#and books of sorrow are big and also old

[thefirstknife]

The God-Wave and the Witness

I've recently been seeing an increase in confusion in regards to the new lore from The Witch Queen about the Hive siblings, the God Wave and the new reveals that all of it was orchestrated by the Witness.

Some even go as far as to say that this was a retcon from how it was described in the Books of Sorrow. That is incorrect. The accusation of retcons comes from a misunderstanding of both old and new lore. I want to clarify this for people who might be genuinely confused. People were confused at the time of release as well, but I thought that with time, this would become clearer? Apparently it didn't and there's still confusion about it.

The new reveal in the cutscene with Ikora and the worm is here. The same dialogue is repeated in Resonant Fury Plate lore, but with additions that I will highlight:

—-It delays our desires so that it may seek its own. These frail siblings… will soon be claimed by the Light. Unless we claim them first. Our whispers were fed to a weak mind. But we have watched these siblings. These children of the king. They are brave minds. Clever minds. Ambitious minds. Yet unsullied by the weakness of aging that plagues their kind.—-

"Then what compels them to hear our whispers?"

—-Desperation. We will tell the most cunning sibling of a cataclysm. A prophecy… of great loss. We will feed her fear. Her pride. We will say… Young Sathona. The end is coming. A great cataclysm. A God-Wave. In the Sky… there is only death. But salvation… lies in the Deep. Lead your sisters down. Your cunning will spare their short lives. And you… will be reborn. The Witch Queen… Savathûn.—-

People seem to be interpreting this as if there was a retcon about which of the siblings first spoke of the Syzygy, aka the incoming apocalyptic event on the Fundament. In Books of Sorrow:

My father died afraid. Not of vile Taox or the Helium Drinkers, but of his orrery. He screamed to me —

“Aurash, my first daughter! The moons are different! The laws are bent!”

And he made the sign of a syzygy.

Imagine the fifty-two moons of Fundament lining up in the sky. (It wouldn’t take all fifty-two, of course: just a few massive moons. But this is my deepest fear.) Imagine their gravity pulling on the Fundament sea, lifting it into a swollen bulge…

Imagine that bulge collapsing as the syzygy passed. A wave big enough to swallow civilizations. A God-Wave.

In Books of Sorrow, the Osmium King learned of the syzygy from the worm familiar and then told Aurash, the eldest sibling, about it. Aurash became obsessed with it almost as much as the Osmium King, but didn't know when the syzygy would come:

I have to find a way to stop it. Before the God-Wave annihilates my species. If I could only get back into my father’s orrery, I could learn exactly when!

This is important. At this point, nobody knew when the syzygy would strike. Osmium King was later assassinated and his children had to flee. These bits are important.

You see, the Witness acknowledges that the whispers were first fed to a "weak mind." Aka the Osmium King. The worm familiar was first his and he was not able to fully understand the whispers of the worm and he never fulfilled what the Witness wanted. The knowledge of the syzygy is still coming from the Witness, via the worm familiar, first to the Osmium King. The Witness also acknowledges that it watched his children and that they are brave, clever and ambitious, but also desperate. The Witness shifted its words to them now.

The same Books of Sorrow chapter also has Aurash acknowledging that Sathona always has a clever plan and "mad ideas" that get them out of trouble. Weeks into their travel away from home, Aurash says:

But more and more we have come to rely on Sathona’s wit. She will go off to be alone (she insists she must be alone) and return with some mad idea — steer into the storm, throw down a net, eat that strange beast, explore that menacing wreck.

Somehow Sathona seems to manufacture good luck by sheer will.

Aurash doesn't know it at this point, and the readers don't know it either, but Sathona has taken the worm familiar. She is getting these "mad ideas" from the worm. She is not manufacturing good luck by sheer will, she is being led, by the whispers of the worm. Sathona reveals this in her own chapter in the Books of Sorrow, immediately following the previous one:

1. It was my father’s familiar. I ripped it from him as we fled. It is a dead white thing, segmented, washed up from the deep sea. 2. It’s dead, but it still speaks to me. It says: listen closely, oh vengeance mine…

She also specifies that everything she told her sisters to do was directed by the worm: she says that she "knows where to find secrets," "knows where vast slow things with long memories live," "knew it [the needle ship] would be there," and that she "knows its purpose" and "what happened to the crew." She also lies to her siblings and contradicts Xi Ro who wants to sell the ship. Instead, Sathona insists that they should use it to dive into the Fundament. This is in agreement with Aurash who wants to get into the ship and command it. Sathona says:

Aurash wants to open the ship and see if we can take command of it. I know this is the right thing to do. I know because I asked the worm…

Another important part is at the start of this chapter where Sathona specifies that at the point of her writing her chapter, they've been traveling for a YEAR:

This year of wild voyaging, these lightning nights and golden days, these forays into ancient wrecks and windblown flights from monsters: these are the happiest times of my life.

Next chapter of the Books of Sorrow also states the following (Sathona speaking):

“We three will die here, in exile. Taox will outlive us. And Aurash, brilliant-eyed Aurash, you will die of old age long before you have proof of your God-Wave, or any way to stop it.”

Why does this matter? Well, a full year after the death of the Osmium King and after a full year of traveling, Aurash still doesn't have either proof of the God-Wave or a plan to stop it. Yes, Aurash first heard of the God-Wave from the Osmium King, but didn't have proof, had no clue when it would happen and had no idea how to stop it or escape it.

For a full year of voyaging, it was Sathona who was talking to the worm. The worm was telling her all sorts of things, things that Aurash believed were just good luck that Sathona was manufacturing by "sheer will." For a year, the Witness was speaking to Sathona, giving her directions, telling her how to survive, where to find the needle ship, where the Worm gods live and to dive into the Fundament.

Obviously, in Books of Sorrow we didn't know that it was the Witness speaking through the proxy of the worm familiar. But we knew, from the Books of Sorrow, that Sathona, aka Savathun, was being given instructions on the syzygy, the God-Wave, where to find the Worm gods and how to reach them in order to escape both the God-Wave and their own mortality through that worm familiar.

It's really confusing to me why people think this is a retcon. Yes, Aurash, aka Oryx, was the first sibling to hear about the syzygy from the Osmium King. But Oryx didn't engage with the syzygy or the God-Wave further; he wanted to go back to their father's orrery to learn more and for a full year still had no new information about the God-Wave or how to stop it. Savathun did. It's directly explained in the Books of Sorrow that she spent a full year being fed whispers telling her where to go.

This was further clarified in The Witch Queen, but not changed. Nothing was changed, it was just expanded that in the year of Savathun being given instructions, the Witness was feeding her fear and her pride and telling her more and more about the syzygy. The Witness also fully mentions that it tried the same with the Osmium King and that it didn't work.

Simplified order of events from the Books of Sorrow: Osmium King acquires the worm -> Osmium King learns about the syzygy from the worm -> Osmium King tells Aurash about the syzygy -> Osmium King dies -> Sathona takes the worm -> Sathona keeps the worm a secret for a year while it feeds her information the siblings need to survive -> Sathona uses the knowledge gained from the worm to lead her siblings to meet the Worm gods

Simplified order of events from the POV of the Witness: Osmium King acquires the worm -> Osmium King learns about the syzygy from the worm -> Osmium King dies and fails to fulfil the worm's purpose -> Sathona takes the worm -> The Witness uses a year of Sathona's time to feed her information and additional knowledge about the syzygy because she's smarter than her father -> Sathona fulfils the worm's purpose

Had Oryx thought to take the worm from the Osmium King, then the Witness would've told him all of this. But he didn't take the worm. Oryx simply heard about the syzygy from the Osmium King, didn't have time to learn more before his death and then Savathun secretly took the worm for herself.

Oryx still spent time trying to understand the syzygy and the God-Wave and tried coming up with a plan to stop it, but he didn't have access to the primary source of information about it; the worm. Savathun had it secretly. Oryx even noted that Savathun was often going off alone and insisted on being alone and then returned with "mad ideas." Meaning, she was off alone to secretly commune with the worm.

This is communicated fairly clearly as a sort of an early mystery in the Books of Sorrow and then explained by Savathun herself in her own chapter (which she also starts with "My secrets").

I feel like this bit in the Books of Sorrow about Savathun secretly communing with the worm alone for a year is often ignored or missed or misremembered. It's very direct in how it's told, specifically about how she suddenly appears with knowledge about the needle ship and the Worm gods and insists that they should dive, while in the meantime, Oryx is despairing about not even having proof that the God-Wave is happening. So yeah, Oryx was first of the siblings to be told about the syzygy by their father, but he had no connection to any of the actual important information about it because Savathun stole the worm and kept it secret. As she does.

Also note that the Witness' speech never says anything about Savathun being the first to ever find out about the syzygy. In the extended version from the lore tab, it states that the first to learn was the Osmium King, who failed, and then the Witness moved on to influence his children. Due to Savathun stealing the worm in secrecy for herself, the Witness couldn't reach Oryx so Oryx was left with only what his father said, which wasn't enough. Books of Sorrow specify that it wasn't even enough to know the basics, such as proof that it's happening at all. Savathun was always the sibling with the most information on the God-Wave.

Another point that's vaguely adjacent that I want to address as well is that this reveal... didn't feel like a true reveal to me. I loved the cutscene and all, but the point of the cutscene ("The Hive were lied to") was an obvious reading of the Books of Sorrow. I didn't expect that to be contentious, even in-universe. Yes, obviously, Books of Sorrow saying that the Traveler is causing the syzygy is bonkers. Traveler doesn't destroy entire planets. The Darkness does.

Furthermore, the Darkness has been consistently depicted as having gravity powers. Where there's gravitational anomalies, there's Darkness. The connection between Darkness, gravity and the Fundament has become exceptionally clear once Last Days on Kraken Mare released which went into out first proper view of what the Collapse was like and what exactly happened. Specifically, it details how the Darkness warped the moon Titan, then released it, causing it to undergo a devastating tidal wave that destroyed the Arcology. My post from 10 months before WQ released that mentions the Fundament as the first recorded instance of Darkness using gravity to destroy.

Like, that is a direct parallel to the Fundament. When this released, it was the final nail in the coffin for what really happened with the God-Wave. I genuinely didn't think that this would be treated as a huge reveal for The Witch Queen. Like, obviously, yes, the Darkness did that to the Fundament and blamed the Traveler to galvanise the Hive into destroying it.

I still loved the whole full official reveal with an absolutely incredible cutscene that still gives me chills. I think revealing things plainly and in an accessible way for everyone is the best course of action for something so important, instead of leaving it to connections between lore books that not everybody will read. I really loved that this was finally fully explained, unambiguously, as was the whole story of how the Hive were tricked. It also curbed all the edgelord theories about how the Traveler is actually evil and the Traveler did that to the Hive.

This confuses me even fruther then when people are saying there's a retcon or that it's a contradiction. The lore around the Books of Sorrow, the Fundament, the Hive and their connection to the Darkness' lies (as directed by the Witness) is one of the most solid pieces of writing in the entire game.

It's the type of lore that has always been written so well and so clearly in line with other lore that it was really easy to take hints from it and understand where the narrators were deceived. Yes, the siblings were told by the Worm gods that the Traveler is causing the destruction of their home and they forced the siblings into an eternal pact in order to make them go hunt down the Traveler for all eternity.

Meanwhile, every other lore ever is showing that the Traveler is not the type to destroy anything and clearly the Darkness it the bad guy here so obviously, the Worm gods lied to the Hive. It's what made reading Books of Sorrow so tragic and ultimately, well, sorrowful. You're kinda expected to conclude that the Hive were the victims of their circumstances who were tricked by malicious forces into doing the bidding of someone else.

I'm glad The Witch Queen fully confirmed that and explained it so beautifully and tragically. It's a fascinating piece of Destiny universe history that ties the power and intent of Darkness across time and space, from the Hive to humans and beyond.

#destiny 2 #hive #witness #darkness #lore vibing #long post #every so often i genuinely see this take #and often it's just people being confused. which is normal! there's a lot of stuff here #and books of sorrow are big and also old #but they're still relevant! and they help us fill in the blanks with this specific event #the new reveal worked directly with the books of sorrow. it didn't contradict them #i'm baffled to see people claim otherwise #you're fine if you just didn't know. that's expected and i hope anyone who didn't know understands things better! #my confusion is with people who claim to be experts and say this. especially books of sorrow enthusiasts #like i've seen self-proclaimed lore experts saying that this is contradicting books of sorrow #and no? it clearly isn't? like. it's right there in the chapters. savathun was always in charge of the worm familiar #oryx only knew what his father said #my guy didn't even have proof that it's real. meanwhile savathun was having secret zoom meetings with the worm for a year #it's actually adorable that he believed his sister is so smart that she was just manufacturing information and good luck for them #oryx vc: 'yeah my sister goes off alone and then comes back with strange instructions that make no sense. she is so smart :)' #savathun: 'get a load of this guy. i am talking to a worm bro. our father's worm! i took it! it's telling me things!' #honestly if they just listened to xivu arath none of this would've happened. absolute dumbasses (complimentary)

[adoregojo]

secret admirer.

hihihihihihihihi, i cannot believe i actually slept for two days in a row? wth? and also that i never did this kind of posts? im such a lazy bum mb yall, I promise I'll write a real fic soon. summary: bllk characters as your secret admirers: isagi, bachira, chigiri, reo. how they fell, what do they do, how did they confess.

isagi.y

him. just him.

you once held his shirt collar to stop him from planting flatly on the floor.

and when you walked away, you walked with his heart in your palms.

yea, just like that

but honestly, isagi himself didn't knew he was such a big sap inside

and the moment he realised you two shared a few classes was the second he almost kneeled and thanked the sky itself for this.

an absolute swoon from looking at your side profile.

he once was long gone within the abyss of daydreaming about you, he genuinely just couldn't look away.

then got called out by the teacher for being too distracted.

definitely prayed that you didn't see that.

writes your name unintentionally in his notebook.

gets so embarrassed about it later and rips the paper.

still dose it again the next day and almost ripped the whole book apart form cringing at himself.

he once was musing over you too much to the point that your name slipped out unwittingly on the dinner table.

his parents couldn't stop teasing him about it, wondering when they would see you walking down their house door.

leaves love notes in your locker almost everyday.

it's something short and simple like: "you look pretty today."

then when he goes home he'll realize how dumb that was because you literally look the prettiest everyday.

dumb, dumby.

takes time to make the first move though.

he just feels like you're way, farther away from his reach.

it's okay, he still considers himself lucky to be one of those who got admire you.

he just hoped you saw him behind all of them, even if it was a glance.

chigiri.h

omgg pretty boyyy

despite chigiri being a confident and self-reliant, the trigger words of his old injury was like a pulling a pin of a grenade to his still-raw sorrowness. something that'll always haunt him.

and what dose he dare to say when they were nothing but truthful? like a salt to his wounds, he tends to just take it and suck it up, or at least try to ignore it for his sake.

but everything flipped when you stood up for him.

from that moment on. chigiri knew that he was far a goner.

out of everyone here he's definitely the most romantic one.

reads all your favourite books and analysis it.

probably named a cat after you.

like isagi he writes love letters for you.

just a little too poetic..

it it's short then it's something like: "loving you is like breathing." or "i hope your days are filled with the same joy you give me with your existence only."

but mostly is: "my definition of love, i see the true meaning of living behind your hue of life. you shall lighten my soul with your existence alone, i was born to see you shin each day, witnessing you is a blessing from heaven itself. the day that i stop seeing you as the owner of the stars is the day my body shall vanish, yet my soul will know it way back to you. from your only and one your admirer."

what a lovesick clown.

he might be a smooth talker on the outside, but trust me the butterflies of sentimental keeps on swirling in his stomach on the sight of you.

told his mother and sister about you.

it was his biggest regrets.

because the next day his sister shouted your name in a demand for you to spend the night for the 'meeting of the future in law'.

he had to physically drag her back to the car, freaking embarrassing.

couldn't meet your eyes for a while after that.

wants to hold your hand.

like, really badly.

it's just that feeling your skin against his cold, pristine hands must've feel like the loveliest, cosiest thing.

the thoughts alone are making him go crazy.

he confessed first, just couldn't help himself.

he just hoped if you would go to the end of the world alongside with him.

bachira.m

the sunshine boy himself.

the definition of fell first AND fell harder.

it all started when the class was ordered to work as duo for a project, something he always despised.

you may say that because bachira was definitely not having the word 'smart' in his book, you'd be right actually.

but mainly since no one really wanted to group up with him.

it was embarrassing, to just sit there and wait to be picked was putting him under the lights that pointed him out as the most pitiful creature in the room.

then you pocked him on the shoulder, and asked him if he wanted to be your partner.

and when he didn't see the sarcasm reeking from you, he knew he tripped hard, and couldn't find it anywhere in his feet to back him up.

it was strange, bachira never had a company, let alone a crush.

but the signs were there, and were painfully vulnerable.

painted you in art class multiple times; you with a smile, you reading a book, you sniffing a sunflower.

maybe also you and him... holding hands or hugging...

stares at your face a way, way too long.

he tells himself it's to crave your features better and detailed.

even he doesn't believe that however.

he draws your eyes a lot.

his second favourite colour is your eyes hue.

he was never the best at writing romantic poems, and his hand writing is just........

so he insisted gets you a gift!

which is a rock.

yes you heard me, rock.

he would even paint a little face with a smile on it and leave it on your desk by the end of the day.

almost went bald from joy when you had it hanging as a small march on your bag.

and when you had a bad day, that goes unnoticed by him.

so imagine your surprise when you would find two pairs of rocks, one kissing the other who had a sad expression on it face.

that somehow that foster a blissful smile on your face. like that little action extinct any remains of the past negative you carried.

and bachira was more than happy to be the reason for your happiness.

definitely rambles about you to his mom.

and his monster.

he once ha a dream about you two smooching.

cried when he woke up because he wanted it to be real more than anything.

you two confessed first, at the same time.

and boy was he dancing on cloud nine at it.

he almost smooch you that moment and then.

reo.m

it's mister perfect everyone, cheer.

you fell first, he fell harder.

no, literally. you fell. tripped flat on the floor.

and somehow, that made the reo mikage heart move.

?????????

love at first (fall??) sight.

he definitely leaves a trail of gifts for you everywhere.

your chair, desk, locker, bag.

he switches between chocolate and flowers to letters and perfumes, necklaces, etc..

you say how he picked them?

easy, see something that reminds him of you, he buys.

and it's pretty foolish since he sees you in almost everything.

reo is convinced that you're within everything that shins beautifully.

he actually paid the teachers to let him be in the same classroom as you.

paid even more to get a seat next to you.

rip to whoever was sitting next to you.

he once heard that a guy was bothering you.

the next day the guy was the talking of school because he suddenly moved out of town due to his dad losing his job.

hm, must be karma then.

has a shrine of you.

but you didn't hear that from me.

talks about you none stop to nagi and ba-ya.

genuinely sobbed when he imagined you with someone else.

has a flight under your name.

made a makeshift doll of you so he can practice his confessions on.

had a mental breakdown of the idea of you rejecting him.

reo can the most horrible, miserable day to a human kind to live.

then he sees you smiling

BOOM

he's all happy and smiling again, also a little giddy.

you once greeted him good morning, the next day he was planing what ring would suit you the most.

had two planes to write on the sky: 'will you go out with me?' and your name next to it in a shade of a heart.

now, you definitely cannot reject that. (Please don't)

have a nice day everyone.

#blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock #isagi x reader #bachira x reader #reo x reader #chigiri hyoma x reader #chigiri x reader #yoichi isagi x reader #bachira meguru x reader #reo mikage x reader

[deepouterspacecandy]

Weathering the Storm

Okay, so the requests for angst or a fight with Abby have been rather prevalent. I hear you loud and clear. I truly enjoy writing pieces for all of you. But also, I don’t view Abby as the girl who is going to fight with you or land herself in a toxic relationship, so that’s not what this is. If anything, I think Abby is the girl who shows you what genuine, safe love is. It’s normal to tackle big emotions when you’re integrating someone into your life, but I don’t want to perpetrate unhealthy dynamics for my fellow lesbians. You're worthy of a love that doesn’t leave you feeling lost and lonely, and it’s out there. I swear.

Alas, here’s my interpretation of your first big spat with Abigail Anderson in a post-apocalyptic world. 18+ only, light angst, sexual themes.

Your first official fight with Abby feels awful, like a steely punch to the gut. You’ve squabbled and debated over trivial things in the past, but this conflict feels more substantial. It’s beginning to fester into a nauseating and distressing ache in your stomach that serves as a meager reward for feeling frustrated and guilty.

But here’s the thing—surely, it’s only natural to feel upset with her given what you’ve been told. So why then, does it feel like a dark, looming cloud hanging overhead? Maybe the ultimate challenge is in navigating the delicate equilibrium between your triggers and your trust in her.

As you process your emotions, you find temporary relief by immersing yourself in work, fully aware that she is employing the same coping mechanism somewhere beyond the walls of the stadium.

It would be reassuring if she were on the FOB, ensuring her safety and giving you peace of mind, but truthfully, Abby is a highly sensitive girl who becomes immensely distraught whenever she senses instability in her surroundings. Drawing on her inherent instincts, she leans heavily into the role of being useful, which eases the threat of her life coming undone.

You are gentle with that aspect of her because you understand her struggle to be vulnerable.

It feels dreadful to be avoiding her like this, and it’s impossible to shake off the discomfort. But the scale of what transpired feels too enormous to dismiss, and you are at a loss on how to bring your emotions to the surface without everything collapsing.  

With the blanket she knitted for you wrapped tightly around your shoulders, you reread the same page of your book a dozen times. You feel a strong desire to numb the sharp shards of glass piercing your stomach, the very place where warm flutters usually stir. The ache of Abby’s absence eclipses the original cause of your sorrow, leaving you feeling empty and lost. 

When a knock at the door shatters your brooding thoughts, you toss your book onto the coffee table. The idea of dragging yourself off the couch to answer it feels overwhelming, your energy drained.

With a sudden click, the lock turns and Abby steps into your apartment. Her shoulders slump, as if weighed down by the assumption of your hesitancy to welcome her. After shutting the door, she leans on it, fidgeting with her keyring.

“Is it okay that I’m here?” she asks.

Nodding at her, you sit up on the couch, curling your arms around your knees.

With a clink, Abby drops the small lanyard into a trinket dish on the kitchen counter. After six months of subtle hints and coy smiles, it took a mere two weeks of dating for her to swipe the key to your place, and you were more than happy to surrender it to her.

“How’d everything go on your run?” you ask.

A half shrug lifts her broad shoulders, while her eyes deliberately evade yours, exposing her discomfort.

“You remember that old mall?” she asks. Engrossed in her thoughts, she chews on her lower lip. “We finally cleared it today.”

“That’s good,” you say. “Stalkers have been running the place for years. It’s about time new management stepped in.”

Abby puffs a soft laugh, her bittersweet chuckle implying she doesn’t feel deserving of finding your jokes humorous. Her face carries such a profound sadness that it pulls the strings of your heart tight, urging you to rewind time.

“I found something for you, but I left it at my place,” she explains. “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to grease your palm or anything.”

“Well, I’m not above bribes,” you tease, hoping to smooth the furrowed lines on her forehead. “I’ve always been a fan of your gifts.”

“Are you breaking up with me?” Abby asks, choked with emotion.

Her question is a thunderous brick to your chest, stripping you of breath. It wasn’t a notion that had crossed your mind, but as the hours dragged on, you were anxious about her perceiving it as a thought you were mulling over.

“Is that what you want?”

“Can I be honest?” Abby sniffs.

She’s hugging herself so tightly that you’re concerned about her blood flow. Fear grips your heart, leaving your mouth parched as you struggle to swallow.

“Of course. You can tell me anything.”

You pat the spot next to you on the couch, and Abby eagerly shuffles closer, her footsteps soft against the carpet. The rug, carefully wrapped in a protective sleeve when you found it, was a surprising discovery on your most recent run together.

The way she unraveled you on it, after it arrived at your door, is a memory that will always stay with you.

When Abby takes a seat beside you, the weight of her body sinks into the cushion and creates a magnetic pull that draws you closer. Her initial apprehension fades as she gently touches your socked toes, her hands instinctively wrapping around them to provide warmth.

“Out of everyone in this fucked up world, you’re the one I can’t bear to lose,” she says. “But I know sometimes I’ll mess up and it sucks because I’m crazy about you.”

“I’m crazy about you, too,” you say.

“I can’t stand letting you down.”

“Yeah—I hear you there. I feel the same.”

Her hair falls across her face, and you reach out to tuck it behind her ear. She leans into your hand, savouring the gentle gesture.

“I’m sorry for making you doubt me like this. I promise there is absolutely nothing for you to worry about.”

“It’s just that everyone’s talking, you know? It’s a lot of gossip, but it still hurts.”

Reflecting on the day that woman arrived, you can’t help but recall her doe eyes raking over Abby, as if she hung the moon and all its stars.

Which she absolutely does—but only for you.

You two have been through this before, watching as crushes come and go.

Each week, the stadium welcomes a constant influx of new civilians and soldiers, captivating affection-starved humans with the beauty inside. Once people realize that the two of you are already in a committed relationship, they tend to respect the boundaries.

This woman gets under your skin in a way no one else ever has.

“It should’ve come from me,” Abby says. “I feel so bad you found out the way you did. Can I tell you what really happened?”

The pad of her thumb finds your ankle, tracing circles around the delicate bone.

“I want you to hear it from me this time,” she continues.

“Alright,” you say. “Shoot.”

She recounts the party at Manny’s last weekend.

It was the only event that you two hadn’t attended together since you officially became a couple. At first, you didn’t have any concerns because Abby has consistently been dependable in her communication with you.

Manny wanted to throw a wild bash to help everyone blow off steam after a nerve-wracking mission, and you wanted her to enjoy the breather. If you hadn’t been so exhausted the week leading up to it, the bass-heavy music and infectious laughter of your friends would’ve invigorated you—Abby playfully bouncing you on her knee to the rhythmic beat the way she always does.

Instead, it was someone else vying for the empty spot on Abby’s lap. 

“She got pretty wasted, like—all over the place drunk. Near the end, she was hitting on everything that moved, basically.”

“Okay. And that included you at some point?”

“It took me a minute to notice, but yes. She tried to make a move.”

A hot, prickling sensation coils like a bitter serpent in the pit of your stomach, impossible to suppress.

“God, Abby. And you still walked her home after? I can’t understand that.”

Your attempt to keep your emotions in check proves futile as tears sting the rims of your eyes, threatening to spill over. The moment you sniffle against them, her gaze immediately locks onto you.

“Please don’t cry,” Abby whispers. Using the sleeve of her shirt, she dabs away the moisture staining your lashes. “Nothing happened. I swear on your life.”

“Did you think about hooking up with her?”

“Fuck no,” Abby says. “I would never, ever step out on you.”

When she clasps your hand, it’s with a firm grip, as though she’s afraid you might slip through her fingers.

“She was all over Manny, and his new girl was getting really pissed off. Like, she was a total mess, and no one wanted to deal with it. Before shit went down, I got her out of there. But she isn’t my responsibility and I realize that now.”

Mulling over her narrative, you’re convinced beyond any doubt that it’s truthful.

When something needs fixing, everyone instinctively turns to Abby. It has always been that way. She has adopted the duty of looking after her community and providing structure, and you deeply admire that quality in her.

There is a significant amount of pressure that accompanies the responsibility of being a protector. It would be nice if people cut her some slack from time to time.

Perhaps you could be the one to initiate it. 

“You’re spoken for, Abby.”

“I know,” she says. “And I don’t take that for granted.”

“Maybe it goes without saying, but I’ll seriously fuck her up if she tries that shit again,” you warn. “I am not kidding, Abigail. Drunk or not, I don’t care.”

Sporting a mischievous grin, Abby bites down on the inside of her cheek. When she lets go of your hand to fidget with her own, you playfully nudge her.

“What?” you ask.

“I don’t hate this side of you.”

“Yeah, well, we better put the cork back on ‘cause things will get pretty real when I’m kicking her slutty ass all over town.”

“Copy that,” Abby smirks. “Putting the cork back on the crazy, pronto.”

She lifts her legs onto the couch to wrap the blanket around both of you. While she’s earnestly trying to convey the depth of her devotion to your relationship, she’s struggling to contain her laughter at your feistiness.

Her knees collide with yours, bringing back memories of the night she invited you over to watch a movie but couldn’t take her eyes off you long enough to pay attention to the screen.

That first kiss had such hunger and heat behind it that the recollection still makes your cheeks flush, her rough, curious hands keeping you breathless for hours.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Spill,” you say.

“You’ll always be my girl,” Abby says, tracing the curve of your spine with her fingertips. “I’ve known it from the start.”

“Well, I think the people may need a reminder,” you murmur.

You feel her velvet breath on the back of your hand as she kisses it. Tenderly, she pulls you onto her lap and nestles her face in your hair.

“Let’s give ‘em one.”

#abby the last of us #abby tlou #abby x fem!reader #abby x reader #abby x you #tlou abby #lesbian #tlou part 2 #abby anderson

[dootznbootz]

If Rick changed Medusa for the Roman Myth in the TV show to be more 'sensitive', then he better do the same with calling out Calypso and what SHE did to Odysseus as well.

I still like PJO even though some of the changes Riordan did aren't great and make me sad but I feel like I can still enjoy it to a degree. But I am genuinely stumped and a bit disturbed by how he decided to make Calypso a sweet, sad, lonely "good person". Sure, she's sad and lonely but she is NOT sweet. To me, she reads off as cruel to Leo but even then, why tf does he write her as a good person or someone we should be rooting for?

Her only big myth is basically in the Odyssey where she imprisons and rapes Odysseus for 7 years. In mythology, others do that too but these immortals ALSO have other myths that define them. This one myth is practically her ONLY ONE!

At night he slept beside her in the hollow cave, as he was forced to do—not of his own free will, though she was keen enough. But in the daylight hours he’d sit down on the rocks along the beach, his heart straining with tears and groans and sorrow, as he gazed, through his tears, over the restless sea

(Ian Johnston, Book 5)

Another translation of the same passage by E.V. Rieu

At nights, it is true, he had to sleep with her under the roof of the cavern, cold lover with an ardent dame. But the days found him sitting on the rocks or sands, torturing himself with tears and groans and heartache, and looking out with streaming eyes across the watery wilderness.

Rick, dude, how did you read the Odyssey and see her as someone to sympathize with? Plenty of lonely people are out there and they don't do what Calypso fucking did!

It kind of freaks me out that Percy was near this woman as she's over a thousand years old and he's 14 at this point. Even if it WAS for a short amount of time. And pairing her with Leo? These kids should not be anywhere NEAR her!

idk, I doubt he'll fix this in the show but I can hope :')

#I hate her so much. #calypso #anti calypso #anti caleo #rick riordan critical #idk I still care about this series but there were...CHOICES #if the show tries to be like Miller's Circe when she eventually shows up I'll throw a FIT. She turned Percy into a guinea pig #simply for funsies as he's a dude. that's in character for her! #Mad rambles #shot by odysseus #like I wanna reread the series...but I don't remember certain bits and I know some of them will make me mad :P #If I remember correctly as well. I think he portrayed Helen in a 'ditzy' light I think. I think she was in one of Piper's dreams??? #As Helen was another person gifted with Charmspeak if I remember correctly??? #essay

[phaedraismyusername]

It's September and we're in a heatwave so instead of choosing violence here's some oppressive summer gothics to match the abysmal autumn vibes

The criteria - they have to be hot and humid, they have to be gothic in nature, dark in content, and they have to at least flirt with the paranormal

Summer Sons by Lee Mandelo

This follows Andrew as he moves to a college across the country to step into his dead best friend Eddie's old life as he desperately tries to prove that he must've been murdered. Haunted, both figuratively and literally, angry and grieving, Andrew sets off on a path that leads him to question everything he ever thought he knew about himself and their history together as he fights to accept who he is, who Eddie was, and maybe tries to learn how to live without him. Fast-paced, dark, and super gay.

Water Shall Refuse Them by Lucie McKnight Hardy

After the death of her little sister, teenager Nif and her family move to rural Wales for the summer in an attempt to escape their grief. Set in the 1970s during a heatwave the isolation and oppressive weather quickly start to take their toll. With an emotionally absent mother, a father with a wandering eye and a needy younger brother, Nif becomes convinced she's stumbled across her own kind of magic, before catching the attention of the strange boy across the street. Think Shirley Jackson, definitely not YA.

Dark and Shallow Lies by Ginny Myers Sain

Now, this is YA. We follow 17 year old Grey as she returns back to her tiny hometown in the Louisiana Bayou for the summer 6 months after her best friends mysterious disappearance. In a town that claims to be the 'psychic capitol of the world', someone must know something, right? Full of secrets, lies, and a boy who steps out of the forest with storm-bright eyes, this was a quick and twisty atmospheric read.

The Hacienda by Isabel Canas

When political upheaval gets her father executed and his family is left in shame and destitution, Beatriz decides she'll do whatever it takes to find security in her life again. When a handsome Don proposes, Beatriz jumps at the chance to accept and move out to his countryside estate with big plans for the future, but it doesn't take long before she's spending her nights terrorised by a mysterious entity inside her new home, forcing her to seek help from the strangest of places. The imagery is creepy, the tone is tense, there's a hot priest, what more do you want?

Cold Moon Over Babylon by Michael McDowell

Probably the darkest book on this list, and definitely the oldest. When a young girl is brutally murdered within sight of her home, it starts a chain of events that will see a family destroyed, secrets and lies exposed, and a vengeful creature that looks almost human to rise from the river as the town that surrounds it starts to crumble. The people are unlikeable, the book is old, the content is Dark - you've been warned.

Ghost Wood Song by Erica Waters

Also YA but this time for the bisexuals. Shady Grove can call ghosts from the grave with her music, just like her daddy could, but everyone knows that only trouble comes from playing for the dead. When her brother is accused of murder, Shady decides to embrace her birthright and use any power she can to clear his name. It's sweet, it's sad, it's lyrical, and there's a little bi love triangle sprinkled in to sweeten the sorrows. It's also a debut!

#book recs #summer gothic #september heatwaves for the L #summer sons #lee mandelo #water shall refuse them #lucy mcknight hardy #dark and shallow lies #ginny myers sain #the hacienda #isabel canas #cold moon over babylon #michael mcdowell #ghost wood song #erica waters #booklr #ya #horror #gothic #southern gothic #seriously tho #if youre at all sensitive to darker themes and topics #i highly recommend googling content warnings and triggers #cos ya know #theres a lot lol

[chuplayswithfire]

One of my favorite things about the toe scene is what the show is saying about an Izzy win. Because the toe scene is Izzy winning and getting what he wants at detriment to everyone around him, including himself (how'd that toe taste buddy).

Izzy spends the entire show hating softness of any kind, hating openness, hating people who question his unearned authority (Stede, Lucius) or people who question at all (Fang) or people who make light of him strict authoritative bullshit (Wee John, Lucius) and uses violence to try and enforce his will and his way of seeing the world (his interactions with all of the above, and also calling the Navy because he's furious "(Stede's) done something to (his) boss's brain" as well as telling Ed he should have been killed by the English rather than grow into a person who think about quitting piracy and enjoy wearing a silk robe and openly express his sorrow.

Izzy rejects softness, rejects change to the traditionally abusive structures of piracy, and is thoroughly furious that getting rid of Stede Bonnet did not transform Ed back into the man he wants Ed to be. When he confronts Ed in episode 10, he focuses on tearing down who Ed has become and what he wants to do in growing into that person - tells Ed that he should have been murdered, that Izzy should have let him be murdered (which cough confirms that Izzy knew the English wanted Ed dead while he was working with them and instead dealt to have a different punishment cough the custody of captain Hands cough), demeans Ed as a namby-pamby pining for his boyfriend, and only reacts positively when Ed shoves him against a wall with a hand to his throat and demands that he "watch (his) tongue, dog".

There he is, Izzy says affirmatively.

And then he claims Blackbeard as his captain and rejects Edward. Rejects the idea of Ed being Edward to his crew, rejects the idea of Ed being open, soft, or engaging in comradery with the crew. Edward better watch his step, he says, moments after saying Ed deserves death and should have been murdered.

It's not a weak or vague threat to say someone should watch their step right after stating that you, the person issuing the threat, should have let them be killed.

Izzy clearly states here that he wants Blackbeard to be his captain. That Ed and everything that encompasses Izzy's idea view of who Ed is should be killed and has no value. Izzy wants the Blackbeard of legend and books and the old days.

The Blackbeard of the old days, episode 9 tells us, cuts toes off and makes their owners eat them for a laugh. Blackbeard kills whole crews, steals ships, and considers it the usual.

Izzy gets what he wants when Ed cuts his toe off, because Ed is living down to Izzy's perception of who he is (which is also Ed's nightmare, because a big chunk of Izzy's purpose in the narrative IS vocalizing and embodying all of Ed's worst fears in the same way the Badminton's do for Stede), and in doing so gives Izzy victory. Izzy wins here, because Ed is acting like the Blackbeard Izzy desires - cutting off toes, killing crews, and as a bonus, getting rid of all the stuff that contributed to Stede's "gross misuse of space" in the captain's quarters.

But it's hollow.

Ed is actually sobbing in his empty quarters, Jim is waking up pissed in captivity, Stede is alive and well and rescuing his crew and Lucius is in the walls and Izzy is still down a toe. Izzy won and got everything he wanted, the Revenge is a goth emo ship of grim darkness, and the show is telling us how its all going to fall apart around him.

#ofmd #izzy hands #our flag means death #ofmd meta #edward teach

[possumbylight]

Lonely Rite

A/N: this is my first time posting my writing on tumblr despite posting on ao3 a bit recently so i wanted to start cross posting my stuff in case anybody here wants to read it too thanks for stoppin by ;)

Summary: She can’t sleep while her husband is away on a two-week business trip. so she turns to the next best thing, even if it is ten feet taller than her and made of stone.

Warnings: None! it’s fluff, and i don’t think there’s any language (if there is it’s super mild), and there’s one teeny itty bitty suggestive line at the end but it is so so mild i swear

Pairings: Zhongli/Reader, Hu Tao and Childe as pals along the way

The driving rain was her only warmth, though it slowly chilled her the longer the evening drew on. It was impractical to risk exposure to the element, but all practicality had dwindled over the past two weeks like a waning flame that finally evaporated into smoke when she had first stepped into the storm.

For two weeks, she had fought to find interest anywhere other than the nagging thoughts in her brain, seeking company from just about anyone who would humor her for even a moment. She was not usually one to stop to converse with street-side merchants for no reason but friendly chitchat-- that was more her husband’s domain, after all-- but everyone from the perfume seller to the old kite-maker to the shaky fishmonger by the docks had entertained her insatiable need to kill time. 

She was running out of topics of conversation. The weather could only get her so far, and she was loath to discuss the death of Rex Lapis, given that she was not good at keeping secrets.

When she failed to sleep for the nth time since her husband’s departure, she grew sick of her ordeal, sick of the inside of her house, and sick of the empty bed that was far too big for her alone. She knew precisely where she was headed when she opened her front door, and even the bite of the stinging rain could stop her from completing her mission. It was, undoubtedly, a drastic measure, but she had put up far too long with drastic times.

Two weeks prior.

“I will not be away long, dearest,” her husband promised, though his own eyes were laced with a distinct sorrow that even his unending wisdom could not mask. “I will write when I can. Will you write to me, as well?”

“If I don’t, will you come home sooner?”

He laughed. She would miss the sound.

“I will return as soon as my job is complete.”

“And you’re sure I can’t come with you?”

“I fear your boss at the book house would not appreciate your sudden departure,” he argued, frustratingly practical to the extent that it made her pout. It wasn’t fair that he always made such good points. She deserved to be impractical every now and again, but her husband always made far too much sense. “And I could hardly put you in such danger. I fear that the days ahead will be harsh. You should not be subjected to such hostilities.”

“And you should?”

“I have survived far worse.”

“Yes, but you can’t exactly hurl mountainsides anymore, can you?” She muttered under her breath, folding her arms like a cross child, if only so that he would dote upon her.

“While it is true that I cannot control the earth as I could in my youth, you underestimate my resolve. I am no feeble old man, my love. I will return to you safely, as I always have, as I always will.”

Eventually, she had been convinced, though hardly happy about it. She may have been a lowly bookstore clerk with a penchant for adventure novels, but she was also a seasoned adventurer herself. Who better to judge such subject matter than one who has experienced it firsthand?

Y/n could have easily boarded the boat with her husband and traveled to Inazuma to fulfill whatever harebrained request had been made of him. Why some random Inazuman citizen had any authority to commission a funeral parlor consultant from Liyue, she did not know, but if she ever met the doushin who had sent for her husband to cross the sea under such treacherous conditions, she would not be kind.

But despite her dramatics, she woke up the next day, rubbed her eyes of sleep all by herself, made tea all by herself, and made the walk to work all by herself, feeling all the while that the sun was a little dimmer without her companion to help guide her step.

She felt desperate. She felt pathetic, like some poor little lost puppy, following her husband around and giving him big moony eyes every time he so much as cleared his throat to speak, but before she had met him, she had been lonely for some time. She was quiet by nature, and when she had packed her life up and moved to Liyue on a whim, it hadn’t been long before she realized that her only friends were coworkers and books.

Meeting him amongst the shelves was a dream, and falling in love with him was a fresh adventure every day.

As she stepped behind the desk at the Wanwen Bookhouse, she remembered exactly where he had stood when she had first met him.

She didn’t want to bother him—most who wandered onto the top level of Wanwen Bookhouse enjoyed the quiet. The Liyue sun was good to them, pleasantly wandering across the spines of books but not so harsh that it bore down on the patrons as they leisurely paced through the shelves. She tended to let her visitors experience the shop at their own pace until they signaled a need of her.

This man, however, looked so remarkably pensive that she could not help but ask. His one hand pressed lightly to his chin and the other tucked behind his back, the only part of him that proved him not to be an elegant statue was his hair, bristling at the ends as the wind flitted through the pages around him.

“Can I help you find something today?” she asked him, approaching as though opening her hand toward a timid animal. “You look awfully deep in thought.”

He took his time responding, but his kind smile was enough to assure her that she had not overstepped. When he did speak, his voice, sturdy as stone and smooth like honey, warmed her.

“I am glad you asked. If I might take a moment of your time, I have several questions regarding this series.”

“I’d be happy to answer, sir.”

He took a single book into his gloved hands, cradling it gently yet weighing it as though assessing its contents through feel alone, as if it would somehow whisper to him the precise questions he ought to ask of her. She took his brief distraction to watch him unabashedly. The people of Liyue were pretty, certainly, but this man had eyes made of precious stone a face of ageless beauty. The way he carried himself alone was enough to make her feel only two inches tall, but the ease with which he spoke to her and the care of his words calmed her.

“I am curious about the author. Zhang Jianning is a name I have yet to encounter. Do you know of his history?”

She nodded, a quiet smile rising on her face. Thankfully, the man had asked her about a beloved adventure series, one which she was immensely fond of. If there was any single employee at the Wanwen Bookhouse who could best answer his questions, it was her.

“Zhang Jianning is actually a pen name. Call of the Ocean Void was actually written by a woman, who used the name of her husband so that she could publish her works.”

“Fascinating,” he replied, and she sensed that he meant it. Sometimes, a customer would ask her for a recommendation, and she would get overexcited at the prospect and accidentally bore the patron into pitying her, nodding along though they had stopped caring long ago. It wasn’t often, after all, that she got to talk to people about a subject she loved so dearly, so when someone asked a question, she really let herself go.

“Her name was actually Zhang Ting, and her work was revolutionary at the time. The genre was flooded with a whole lot of men telling the same stories, and when Ting published the first book of her series, it was an instant success. She revealed her true name when she finished the last installment of the series, and then published everything afterwards under her own name. But instead of changing newly published editions of Call of the Ocean Void, she kept them under her husband’s name as thanks to him.”

“That is a wonderful tale,” the man complimented her, and she flushed at the praise. It wasn’t every day that she had tall, handsome men praising her for her ability to ramble about her favorite books. “Do you enjoy this series yourself?”

“Me?”

“Yes. You are obviously quite interested in its history. Do you enjoy the content, as well?”

“It’s one of my favorites,” she explained as her fingers brushed across the book spines, coming to rest on one particular novel. “The fourth book is my favorite. It’s—well, I won’t tell you, in case you decide you’d like to read it. Do you like adventure novels?”

“I often find myself consuming solely non-fictional accounts and entirely neglecting fiction, but I have recently become quite appreciative of the thrill of adventure.”

Y/n had helped him purchase the book, and within a few days, he had returned for the next book in the series. By the fourth book, he decided that he would buy all of them at once, and she, though pleased by the idea that she had sparked his interest in a beloved series, lamented that she would no longer be encountering the man who was turning out to be her favorite customer.

As she carefully jotted down the details of his newest purchase for her records, he cleared his throat, and for the first time, she witnessed a slight discomfort in his stance.

“Miss Y/n, I wonder if you have ever taken the time to listen to the local storytellers? I find that Tian is quite skilled in his art.”

“Mr. Tian is the storyteller at Third-Round Knockout, right? I haven’t had the pleasure.”

“Then, perhaps you would be interested in accompanying me tomorrow evening.”

“To… to listen to the storyteller?”

“Yes, if you would like. If you have other matters to attend, I understand.”

“No, I would like that.”

Y/n sighed sweetly at the memory, cursing her past self for being so oblivious and so cowardly. If she had accepted that their first trip to the storyteller had been their first date, then perhaps they could have moved on with the whole relationship with considerably more efficiency than they did, dawdling and pining for at least a year.

Despite the memories that lived amongst all of the shelves, she completed her job as efficiently as she could without daydreaming.

Eleven Days Prior.

Several days later, and she was desperate enough to wander into the halls of the Northland Bank, seeking the company of the man who had attempted to drown the entire city with her inside it, and yet, somehow became a friend to both her and her husband. Tartaglia, if rumor was to be believed, had killed her husband, but she only rolled her eyes at such tall tales. The bloodthirsty Eleventh Harbinger would never kill without a proper fight, and despite his grandstanding, a row with Morax was not a fight Tartaglia could reasonably win.

“I’m here to see Childe,” she muttered to the baffled attendant behind the counter. Usually when she made visits to the Northland Bank, she was accompanied by her husband, whose stately presence made up for the fact that the two of them were seemingly nobodies come to call on a high and mighty harbinger. Now all by herself, she was just a shy little civilian who no doubt appeared visibly unnerved by the hollow and clean halls of the bank.

“Lord Tartaglia does not take meetings without an appointment,” came the steady reply. The guards eyed her warily. “What is your name?”

“Y/n. I don’t have an appointment, though.”

“Then I’m afraid you will have to return once you have made the appropriate preparations.”

“Oh. Sorry, then, I—”

“Y/n! There you are, comrade.” If the voice wasn’t unmistakable, the fiery head of hair that bobbed down the stairs was a clear tell from a mile away. As soon as his boots hit the expensive marble floor, all heads in the room bowed in reverence. Y/n felt a swell of pride in her chest. “Don’t tell me that Levin was giving you a hard time.”

“He was just making sure I wasn’t coming to assassinate you, I suppose.”

“And? Are you?”

“Don’t sound so excited about it, Childe. I’m a decent adventurer, but I would be far too easy of a fight for you.”

“Yes, I fear that you would be,” he uttered, though his voice was still riddled with the humor that made his threats so chilling—the ease with which he spoke of conquest and battle, followed by a cheery laugh, made talking with him unnerving at times. It was only because he was a dazzling conversationalist and a loyal friend that she and her husband were able to skillfully repress Tartaglia’s rocky past.

“So why do you still look like you want to try it?”

“Ah, because after I’ve successfully gotten you out of the way, then your lover would have no choice but to fight me. Where is Mr. Zhongli, by the way? I’m surprised he’s left you to roam the streets alone.”

Her face scrunched so pitifully that Childe nearly laughed, had it not been for the unutterable sadness that filled her eyes.

“He’s in Inazuma,” she whined, trekking with heavy step up the stairs behind him. “Some stupid doushin asked for his expertise on a case or something.”

“Inazuma. That’s awfully far. How long will he be gone?”

“Two weeks.”

“Aw, poor little thing. You look like someone’s knocked the wind right out of your sails. But, if you’re lonely, we could always go outside the city and find some treasure hoarders to knock around a bit.”

She pondered the idea longer than she was proud of.

“Ask again in a few days,” she finally sighed. “I might get bored enough to take you up on that.”

One Week Prior.

She had, several days later, taken up Tartaglia on his offer to go adventuring, and even though he had been more than happy to take care of any enemy that passed their way, y/n still ended up aching in the joints and riddled with little cuts and bruises all over every inch of skin that had been exposed during their journey.

So, she hobbled up the long and arduous path to Bubu Pharmacy, praying to all the archons that the tall stairs would miraculously shorten to make her journey less painful.

“How am I supposed to pray to Rex Lapis for the earth to bend to my will,” she muttered bitterly as she heaved another step upward, “when he’s out of town on a business trip?”

“Good afternoon, y/n! You’re looking a little worse for wear. Might I inquire as to why you’re so beaten up?”

Hu Tao skidded to a halt beside her, and somewhere, Qiqi let out a relieved sigh that the director had been momentarily sidetracked by another potential client.

“I went out adventuring yesterday, to pass the time.”

“To pass the time, or to pass away? You know, I have been designing an attractive pair of couple’s coffins for you and Mr. Zhongli, but if you go ahead and die now, you’ll get a significant discount.”

“I don’t plan on dying right now, but thank you,” y/n muttered, somewhat gratefully. She had been quite sure at the bottom of the stairs that she would survive to the top, but somewhere around the middle, her faith in herself wavered.

“Let me know if you change your mind. Have you heard from Mr. Zhongli since he’s been gone?”

“Mm, he sent me a couple letters. The weather’s been rough in Inazuma lately. Apparently, their stormy season is particularly trying.”

Y/n grimaced as she recalled her husband’s wording, and the way she knew he was masking some of the peril he had experienced. No doubt, he was trying his best to keep her from worrying so much that she hopped on the next boat out of town and tried to fight the Raiden Shogun in his honor.

My dearest y/n,

           I write to inform you that I have safely landed in Inazuma’s port at Ritou. The maple trees are rich with color, and the air is clean, when the storms have subsided. Ritou is lined with quaint little markets, and I have found the time to pick up a few souvenirs you will no doubt find interesting.

I did remember my wallet, this time.

The famed Yae Publishing House is my next prospect, and I intend to visit as soon as I have reasonable time. Perhaps if I find a suitable novel, I can read it aloud to you when I return. Though, I miss your voice so much I may request that you read it aloud to me, at least for a night. I could never fully give up the sight of you curled up at my side, dozing off to sleep at the sound of my voice.

I hope you are faring well in my absence. I know how reluctant you were to leave me by the docks, and it pained me just as much to watch as you faded into the distance. I could see the tears in your eyes, and my heart begged me to beseech the captain to turn the boat around just so that I could comfort you.

I digress—I do not wish to make you feel lonely.

Inazuma is a beautiful nation, despite its weather becoming volatile at times. There is no need to worry, however, as my lodging during my journey provides me a sturdy roof. I doubt, as well, that this nation’s archon would be so quick to strike me down with her lightning.

Rest assured that the Shogun’s thunder is a terror I have survived many a time.

I hope to bring you here someday, during a season in which the weather is far more temperate. The Sakura trees surrounding the Grand Narukami Shrine are loveliest at the peak of their blooms, and I believe you would enjoy the long and winding walk to the mountain’s peak. The pathway is paved with stone, and the red of the wooden terraces is rich against the pale blue of the sky.

Nothing compares, however, to the way you shine under the Liyue sun. I hope the sun shines on the day I return to you, darling, but even if it does not, I will be equally overjoyed to see you.

                                                                                   All my love,

                                                                                               Zhongli

Y/n hoped that Hu Tao couldn’t read the way her lip barely trembled at the thought of the poetic letter. She wished, after all the beautiful books she had read, of all the brilliant and descriptive words she knew, that she could write nearly as well as Zhongli. He always went on about how he loved the way her words sounded on her tongue or on the page, but she knew that she was hardly impressive compared to him.

She swooned when he so much as asked her to pass the sugar bowl.

Hu Tao, despite having offered y/n a comfortable means of transport to the afterlife, helped her up the stairs until Dr. Baizhu could properly prescribe a salve that would hopefully heal all of her wounds by the time her husband arrived, though she wasn’t opposed to the idea of her beloved doting on her as he cooed at how pitiful her wounds looked.

Perhaps she would skip a few applications and let Zhongli give her a massage, for good measure.

Four Days Prior.

She stared down the incense burner with an intense passion, as though lighting the embers with her very eyes. Of course, she could write letters to her husband, but it wasn’t fast enough. It wasn’t nearly as comforting as talking to him in person, and even though he wasn’t nearly as involved in Liyue’s affairs as before, he was still at least semi-divine, so she was willing to stake her chances that he might hear her should she direct all her wishes to Rex Lapis’s little effigy that sat atop the stone burner instead of waiting for Zhongli to reply.

She spoke to him with little regard for the other supplicants milling about the terrace—if anyone should hear her, they would likely think her some enthusiast of the former Geo Archon, mourning his loss and pining for his return.

“I miss you,” she spoke as the fragrance began warming the air around her. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I miss you so much it hurts.”

Waiting on a sign was silly, but she still hoped beyond hope that the smoke might give her some kind of signal. When nothing happened, she addressed him again, this time listing all of the names she could remember, just in case. The earth might not respond to Zhongli, but it would certainly recognize Morax.

“Zhongli. Rex Lapis. Lord of Geo. Morax. If you can hear me, you should say something now so I don’t look like a buffoon talking to a dead god.”

It could have been her eyes playing tricks on her—her sleep schedule had been wretched in her husband’s absence—but the smoke gave a slight hitch to the left as it rose.

“Yes, I know you’re not actually dead, but no one else knows that. What’s the point of marrying a former god if he can’t hear you when you pray to him?”

She sighed, sitting down on the sun-soaked pavement with her legs crossed.

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be snippy. I just forgot how lonely I was before I met you. Now that we spend so much time with each other, it’s hard to be away from you for this long without going mad. I’m starting to doubt that you can hear me at this point, but if you can, please try to cut your trip short. I don’t know if I’ll last four more days.”

For the next hour, she sat in the sun and mumbled sweet supplications to Rex Lapis, hoping that at least one of them would reach his ears.

He had told her of his identity the night he asked her to marry him. It was a prerequisite, he said. Before he asked her the all-important question, he had to ensure that she was comfortable with all of him—his past, present and future selves.

“Y/n, if we are to proceed with this relationship, I must inform you of something which might alter the course of your feelings towards me. I… have not always been a funeral parlor consultant.”

She expected that perhaps he had been wild in his youth, running with treasure hoarders or engaging in the shady trade that always littered the lower docks. Never could she have imagined that his prior job had been Geo Archon, but the more she thought about it, the more it made sense. He had, more times than she could count, corrected arrogant historians on minute details, filling in narrative holes with all sorts of odd accounts that somehow lined up entirely with historical fact.

Besides that, there was one occasion on which Tartaglia had referred to Zhongli as, “the guy who sealed up Osial in the first place,” which y/n had written off as some strange inside joke between the two.

The night he had revealed the truth to her, it had taken her several hours of questioning, which he had valiantly endured, to adjust to the new information, though her heart never thought twice about her decision to agree to his proposal. When he finally asked the question, she responded so immediately that it shocked him.

“Darling, I am overjoyed to hear this, but I must ask if you are sure. This is quite a lot to take in at once. If you require a few days’ thought, I would understand.”

“I know my answer now. I love you—every bit of you, even the parts that are complicated. I don’t mind what other names you’ve been called in the past, or other lives you’ve lived. You’re my Zhongli now, and you’ll be my Zhongli forever, if you’d like.”

“That is more than I could ever ask.”

When she agreed to marry him, she never pictured herself awaiting his return by sitting cross-legged before his draconic visage, muttering under her breath for only the cool stone to hear. It was worth it, however, to feel that he was so close even when he was so far away. No one else in the harbor could claim that their lover’s figure sat handsomely etched in stone in statues overlooking the city. She was the only one who could confirm whether Rex Lapis at all resembled his statues.

And she was quite smug about that, as well.

One hour prior.

He begged his heart not to expect the sight of her at the docks, her figure swaying amongst the silhouetted crowd as his ship crested the horizon and set for the docks. He had not discussed his arrival time with her, as he did not know it himself, and thus, it would be impractical for him to assume that she lingered at the docks for his return.

Even still, when he saw that the docks were empty at such late hours of the night, his heart stung with the pang of loneliness that would have to last just a bit longer.

He filled his mind instead with visions of her swaddled in blankets, chest rising with steady breath as she dreamed peacefully. When he finally arrived home, he could finally remove his business clothes, let loose his hair, and participate in that sweet domestic ritual of curling up in bed beside his wife, wishing to see her eyes but hating to wake her.

When he opened the bedroom door to find the house entirely empty, he fought to keep himself level. Surely, there was a reasonable answer for this. She had written him hardly a day prior, so he assumed her to be still in good health. Perhaps, even, she had overexerted herself in filling his absence, attending some late-night party from which she would eventually crawl home, exhausted and socially spent.

He doubted this. She had begun to appreciate light conversation more since the start of their relationship, but she was hardly the type to stay out past bedtime to engage in any social activities.

He searched the whole house one more time, thoroughly exhausting all his options until he was left with only the impractical—his wife could hardly fit in the vase by the fireplace, but he had to be sure of this. Compiling a list of her most frequent haunts, he took to the streets, not caring a single bit that the gray clouds had pooled all in one adumbral mass above the harbor, pouring rain that startled the seas with its force.

The Wanwen Bookhouse was, of course, closed at such a late hour, its wares sheltered in billowing tarps that pushed and pulled loudly in the strong winds. He thought she may be there, too, drenching herself to the bone as she fought to keep the pages of her favorite books safe, but she was not hiding amongst the shelves.

The Terrace was empty, save for the dimming light of the glaze lilies, closing their buds to the storm that threatened to pull their stalks from the earth. The incense that had once burned in the public altar was dampened entirely. Just as he was about to head for his next destination, however, the dome of a single lavender umbrella cut through the driving rain.

“Mr. Zhongli, I am surprised to find you here at this hour,” Keqing spoke in measured tone, as though it was perfectly normal for her to be there at that hour. “You’re soaking wet. Might I offer you an umbrella from my office for your journey home?”

“Forgive me, Lady Keqing, I do not mean to be abrupt, but I cannot seem to find my wife.”

“Quite alright, Mr. Zhongli. I assumed she had met you at the docks. I haven’t seen her since yesterday, but if I do, I will be sure to let her know that you’re looking for her.”

“Thank you, Lady Yuheng.”

He was gone long before he could acknowledge the quiet wave of farewell she gave. His next destination—and he prayed this to be wrong—was the pharmacy, where a single lamp flickered in the front office.

“Good evening. Or… is it now morning? Qiqi… does not own a watch.”

“Qiqi, have you seen my wife?” he questioned hurriedly, forgetting in his haste that the smallest of the pharmacy employees was also the slowest.

“Your… wife? You are Mr. Zhongli. Qiqi wrote down your name, because you always compliment Qiqi on the selection of violetgrass. Should Qiqi call for Dr. Baizhu?”

“No, thank you, Qiqi.”

A wasted venture, but one that took him to one of the last locations on his list, and the one place he would find someone who might truly have information. The Northland Bank was, after all, open at all hours of the day and night.

“Enjoying the rain, Zhongli? You don’t seem like the type to go out without an umbrella. I’d be happy to lend a few mora, if you need to procure a new one.”

“Thank you, Childe, but I fear an umbrella would be of no use to me at this point. Pardon me, but I do not have time to speak with you just now, I—”

“No time to speak?” Tartaglia asked him with a strange sort of glimmer in his eye that caught in the moonlight. “That’s odd. It’s rare that you don’t have a story to tell me, though, I suppose it makes sense. You wouldn’t go out in the rain and get soaked for no reason. Tell me, Zhongli, what’s your mission today? You look awfully determined.”

Zhongli sighed. Childe was, by some odd event, a friend to him, and though the two had spent hours exchanging stories, Zhongli was in no mood to humor his friend’s conversation, however amicable. As the hour drew on, his worry grew until it sat heavy right in the center of his chest.

“I have been looking for my wife, to no avail. I am aware that she is capable, but I am beginning to worry.”

“Y/n has certainly been lonely since you left on your little adventure. She’s stopped by the bank on more than one occasion, just to chat. The first time it happened, I thought something must be wrong. I’m not used to seeing one of you without the other at this point.”

“Childe, have you seen her today?”

“I haven’t. But, I might have an idea of where she may be.”

“I would be incredibly grateful for any information you are willing to spare.”

“She’s with you, of course,” Childe answered with a laugh, as though it should be obvious. When Zhongli’s brow furrowed, the younger man’s smile only grew.  “I did say that I hardly see one of you without the other, didn’t I? So where else would she be, than with you?”

Childe lifted one long arm to point upwards towards the horizon, dotted with brightening stars that grew as the sun dissipated behind the harbor’s wavering border. Rising tall, just above the rolling hills beyond the city’s gates, stood a singular, familiar figure, glowing faint blue against the darkening sky.

“I see,” Zhongli whispered. The waver in his tone faded into a fondness that untied the great knot of worry that had tangled his heart. It was silly, of course—he should have been upset that his most beloved had ventured out into the rain on such a wild and sentimental hare, but he could not bring himself to feel even the slightest bit of resentment towards her.

He had left her alone for two weeks. It was only reasonable that she should seek comfort in the next best thing. He hardly took time to thank Tartaglia before rushing towards the hillside, following the faint glow of the Statue of the Seven.

As he approached the statue, he saw her, shadowed by stone and sky, huddled into an uncomfortable mass on the statue’s lap. He fended off the passing sting of jealousy—it was his lap, but it wasn’t.

He hardly had trouble making his way up to the top, though as he did, he could not help but wonder how she had climbed there, and in the rain, of all things, but he thought to ask her later. There were far more pressing issues on his mind.

“Darling, wake up,” he cooed, brushing his fingers across the side of her face and warmed at the precious sight of her squirming and mumbling sleepily. “We need to get you out of this rain. You’ll fall ill in this cold.”

“Zhongli,” she whispered, as though in the midst of a sweet dream. “Get home, already. I can’t sleep when you’re not here.”

“I’m sorry, dearest. I am here now. Come—let me take you home.”

“Mmhmm. Okay. Carry me?”

“Of course. Hold on tight.”

“You’re really home?”

“Yes, my love, I am truly home.”

“Oh, no,” she whined, burying her head into his chest. “I’m sorry. You must be tired, and here I’m making you carry me. You can put me down, I can walk on my own.”

“Nonsense. How long have you been curled up against nothing but unyielding stone? It is my pleasure to carry you home, dear.”

She hummed happily as he crossed the threshold of their house, the amber glow of the kitchen lamp flushing their cheeks red with warmth as they sought shelter from the cold rain. Once she was on her own two feet, she quickly returned to the cradle of his arms, hiding herself away against him as though he would disappear if she did not hold him close enough.

“I must seem pathetic,” she whimpered, and he only laughed in response. The gracious rumble in his chest was enough to give her a smile of her own.

“Of course not. Should it be of interest to you, I found it difficult to sleep apart from you as well. The only way I found myself able to close my eyes at all was because I kept something of yours with me.”

“Hmm? What is it?”

“Oh, I—” he stammered, uncharacteristically flustered at the sudden turn of the conversation that placed all attention on him. “I borrowed a shirt of yours.”

“My green shirt? The one with the pocket on the front? So that’s where it’s been.”

“I apologize if you missed it.”

“I missed it a little, but not as much as I missed you.”

“That is good to hear,” he sighed. He pressed his lips quietly to her forehead, letting himself enjoy the weight of her in his arms before he went to move again, this time taking her by the hand and leading her towards the bedroom. “Come now, darling. We should rid ourselves of these clothes before we both fall ill.”

“Oh?”

“What an odd look in your eyes, dear. I am merely suggesting that you should not remain in wet clothes for very long, for your health.”

“You’re not suggesting anything else?”

He did not respond, but the twitch of his mouth gave him away, and she grasped his hand, eager to follow wherever he may lead.

#zhongli x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli imagine #zhongli fluff #genshin impact imagine #god i am shit at writing specific tags so i hope these work #also if you read this far thanks for reading and i love you

[pinkvaquita]

As the night passes in that destroyed mess of what once was a library, Pure Vanilla simply couldn’t stop to read those ancient books, curious and a little intrigued by what these old pages could say about a continent so mysterious like Beast-Yeast. Yet he didn’t expect to find something he could recall that was familiar with him. In the yellow pages of a book filled with some gibberish he couldn’t understand, there was written in an ink with the same color as the jam a cookie had inside of itself. “Wearing a crown is a dark and lonely thing.”

He remembered this, once in the Blueberry Yogurt Academy he found a book with this line written in it. Strange, and stuck into his mind until now. Yet the phrase never resonated too much with him. 

In all his years of being a king, he has never felt nothing even similar to being lonely. Neither to being lost in the darkness.

Every memory he could recall from this times, they were flooded with the presence of his dearest loved ones. His people, his kingdom and of course, his lovely friends. Some may say that they were tied only by being the holders of the soul-jams, but there was much more than that. 

There were years and years filled with stories of comradery. Of laughing with each other. Of celebrations that lasted days. Of silent nights where they also made company in their sorrows. The bond they had was much stronger than family, nothing could compare or describe all those times they swore between smiles that they were going to be together forever till the end of times.

He also found another counterpoint against that phrase from his times of being lost… it felt so cold, so lost. Pure Vanilla never was able to think of a bigger pain that was those years of letting himself go, of letting everything drift away like little leaves on a turbulent river. The time he felt more lonely and consumed by the darkness, was when he wasn’t a king with a crown to wear. And the day he finally felt like one once again, was when he was able to share once again a room with all of them.

For him, being called king was fiercely tied to his relationships. He would never feel like royalty, without someone to share that happiness with. And everyone seemed to agree. 

Hollyberry didn’t return to her throne until the day she remembered she was a queen with a family and a kingdom to care for, with bonds to still share happiness and gratefulness. Dark Cacao never felt more capable like the day he finally was able to care for the kingdom, the day he did that it finally tasted a bit better in his mouth to being called king. Golden Cheese felt like a queen even if a big part of her valuable treasure was gone, because her friends help her not drown in the misery of a lonely grief. And White Lily finally understood her own value once she now stood in the protection of all the fairies in Beast-Yeast, slowly leaving behind her own isolation.

All of them could agree that what made them truly feel like royalty was having something to fight, to protect, to care and to let themselves know that they are not alone. The moment they were less lonely were the times in their life that they felt all hours they held crowns in their heads.

And yet… the phrase still sometimes haunts his mind from time to time. Not in a way to chase him with guilt, but with a strange feeling of something being off about it. About needing to hear who and why say that. Like right now, his hands went through every page and his eyes quickly checked everything he could in that book.

Sometimes he blamed this behavior and other similar things on a fear of a history like this repeating itself. Since Dark Enchantress, and even more since the return of White Lily, he constantly thought and thought about that god forsaken phrase..

Was it fear of his dear White Lily being lonely and losing herself once again? Was it fear of one of his friends following a similar destiny?

If that phrase existed, there was someone that ruled with a lack of light and people to guide them. A cookie that went through who knows what, and now can only associate a title with these concepts that would fill anyone in agony, someone that thought that being a king was about being alone and nothing else. It was a strange concept… and disturbing one even. A king surrounded by nothing but an obscurity, not letting anyone get close to him or his mind. Thinking himself capable of being able to handle it, when this behavior made it sound more like a tyrant than a king. A king that decided that he was fine on his own, lying to everyone about him being the only one he needed. 

A king so convinced that his loneliness was justified, that he tried to blame it on wearing a crown instead of admitting this was because of himself. A king that maybe when he realized loneliness was a pain, and in an attempt to hide it, he wrote in a book. So he could remember his own lie. “...who would make such a statement? And why in this book that has nothing except doodles and pages cutted by scissors?” 

The question Pure Vanilla made out loud obviously didn’t receive an answer. Or at least not one by talking. Because as his hands finally reached the end of this book, he found something that caused his heart to stop in his own tracks. Ignoring the strange words, incomplete drawings and torned apart parts of this book that apparently his function at some point was as a vent diary.

The same calligraphy was also used for this little firm he found at the bottom of the last page. With  nothing more than a simple yet obvious “S.M.”

“Maybe my imaginations are not that far from the true…”

And he wasn’t wrong. Shadow Milk growled in his confined space between Pure Vanilla's conscious and unconscious mind, as he watched an old say from himself returning to the surface. 

He didn't regretted his words, he still thought it was right what he said. Because even if he was the king of fools, with no kingdom or even a body to control…

He was so so so so sooooo… alone.

#i made this at 2 am #enjoy it Shadow Milk fans #Vanilla milkshake fans are included too #cookie run kingdom #cookie run #crk #shadow milk cookie #cr kingdom #pure vanilla cookie #shadownilla

[to-fly-with-clipped-wings]

Prologue - Killing Butterflies

Prologue - Killing Butterflies Pairing: (H. Potter x Black! reader)

'When had the pangs in his heart become so painful? So loud? He hadn’t a clue. So, when Regulus found it within himself to straighten up and gently remove his hand from your grasp, he didn’t register it – the complete and utter sadness taking hold of his nerves and paralysing them like snake venom. He silently pressed his lips to your forehead in a final goodbye.' OR: in which the vague exposition of Killing Butterflies is revealed.

Series Summary: (Y/n) Black - the one and only heiress to the noble house of Black - who also happens to be the daughter of the infamous Regulus Arcturus Black (and the niece of the notorious criminal Sirius Black). But despite the titles, rules and expectations that befall you, there are only two things that you long for, at which you will not cease to achieve: Firstly, to fill in the big shoes left behind by your late father. And secondly, burn the butterflies that flutter within your stomach in the presence of Harry Potter (who happens to be the sworn enemy of, perhaps, your entire family).

-> Series Masterlist and Summary -> Harry Potter Masterlist

Regulus Arcturus Black was a man who, for as long as he could remember, had never felt an emotion that had not been either sorrow, rage or the bitter sting of regret.

And even now, though he gazed toward the delicate form of his daughter, he was certain that the only emotion that was building inside of him was an overwhelming sense of deep, deep regret.

A feeling so powerful, yet one that had become somewhat of a solace to Regulus. An old friend accompanied him once more. However, what made this instance so peculiar was that this regret did not hurt or impair him – it did not itch under his skin or alight a vicious fire throughout his veins. This particular regret seemed to permeate, strangely, from beyond the confines of himself.

'When pressure builds to dangerously high levels, it will be released in one way or another.'

How puzzling. From where had that sentence emerged?

Well, for all Regulus knew, there were multiple ways in which his degree of built up pressure was being released.

For one, it could be within the tears that he bore on his pale face for the world to see, or in the way he had buried his head in his hands to tug at his curly locks of hair – or, remarkably enough, as the aloof memory that had suddenly just settled its stronghold at the forefronts of Regulus’s mind.

A weapon that stood forth in times of profuse despair and desolation, yet it was one that usually remained mute in Regulus’s lovely ballads of pain and regret.

It had been years since he had thought about this memory. Despite this, however, it was one that he’d treasured dearly.

He had been seven years old, and his brother, Sirius, had been eight, when the latter had somehow smuggled a muggle book into the house. Regulus remembered how horrified his younger self had been when Sirius had revealed the origin of the new novel. Sirius had quickly been able to calm Regulus down, wrapping his arm around Regulus's shoulder and they nestled into a dark corner in Sirius's room in 12 Grimmauld Place as Sirius read the book aloud.

It had been about volcanoes and explained the peculiar ways a volcano functioned, at least according to the muggle mind. Sirius had pointed to the sentence about that sentence pertaining to ‘built up pressure’ and made a rather crude comparison between volcanic eruptions and their mother, causing Regulus to gasp, and then to giggle and cover his mouth.

Regulus often wondered if his younger self would have guessed that reading a muggle book of all things with his older brother would later become the only memory that allowed him to conjure a patronus.

When had the pangs in his heart become so painful? So loud? He hadn’t a clue.

So, when Regulus found it within himself to straighten up and gently remove his hand from your grasp, he didn’t register it – the complete and utter sadness taking hold of his nerves and paralysing them like snake venom.

He silently pressed his lips to your forehead in a final goodbye.

Wiping his eyes, and glancing at Kreacher (who was standing in the corner of the room, his own tears streaming down his face) Regulus muttered the words "Expecto Patronum."

A blur of blue was expelled from his wand and his patronus stood dutifully in front of him. Bending down, Regulus whispered to the patronus, urgently muttering to the creature.

Kreacher, the wretched looking house-elf, gazed up at Regulus, his large, glassy eyes swollen and bloodshot.

"Kreacher." He spoke hoarsely, his throat thick. "Promise me that you will always take care of (Y/n), no matter what happens. Care for her tenfold the amount you do for me. Promise -.."

Kreacher nodded earnestly, before promptly bursting into tears again. He sobbed loudly into Regulus's robes.

Taking Kreacher's hand into his own, Regulus asked the elf to show him to the cave - the Great Cave that the Dark Lord had taken Kreacher to and from which the house elf had returned gasping and terrified, not all that long ago.

Kreacher nodded, tightening his grip on Regulus's hand. With a loud crack, both he and Regulus Disapparated from the room.

And so, 12 Grimmauld Place was left in silence.

The only sign of movement was in the wispy blue trails of a dog, as it took flight through a window.

------------------------------------>

Hello everyone!!!!! ^^

Thank you so much for picking up this series😊 I can't wait to share with you guys the story of young (Y/n) Black as she battles being the last Black, the daughter of a former death eater, the niece of a heinous criminal and her budding crush on Harry Potter Just for reference, so sorry that this chapter is incredibly short. I promise that the later chapter will be literally triple this size but yeh

To start, I'd like to set the context for you guys to make reading this book a lot less confusing haha:

The plot of this series will be following the plot of the Harry Potter books (That being said, Regulus does actually die in 1979 (a year before most of the H.P. crew is born) so to account for this, Regulus will in fact be dying a year later!! :D)

Also in this chapter I did make up and add a few things that aren't canon but are vital for the plot later on so please excuse these additions!!

This book will be written in second person

Also, this book will be a slow burn and enemies to lovers. Their romantic journey will be stretched on for quite a long time before they actually get together

Continuing on…

Your mother, due to unknown reasons, gave up full custody to Regulus and has never showed up in your life. Her blood status (and identity) is also unknown, but everyone just assumes - or hopes - that she was pure-blood.

Canonically, Walburga Black died in 1985. So basically when you are five years old. During this time, you do live in 12 Grimmauld Place, and when Walburga tragically dies, the laws of the Ministry require you to live at the Malfoy Manor.

BTW!!! I got this idea from the Demon Slayer anime where at the end of the episode they reveal "extra details" about the characters or story. I just love this idea and I'm definitely going to use it!!!

^ majority of these will be about (Y/n) and will be about one per chapter

But since it's the very first chapter of this book I'm gonna throw in a whole bunch of them!!! 😀

You look almost exactly like your mother (so essentially you don't really need/have to look like you come from the Black family) but your mannerisms and personality definitely come from Regulus.

You have greyish eyes (essentially grey streaks within your natural eye colour). This is a small detail but exists because grey eyes are ICONIC within the Black family (everyone has them!!) and as your eyes are not purely grey, it helps symbolise your alienation with your family and heritage. You are supposed to be a Black… but are you really?

You and Kreacher are pen pals and write letters to each other almost weekly.

The prologue scene is set around a month or two after you were born.

And lastly, you have a very soft spot for house elves and for the longest time, Kreacher was your best friend. Also, quite possibly, your only friend.

Taglist (thanks for asking btw (: ) - @mysouleaten

#harry potter x reader #harry potter x y/n #harrypotter #harry potter x you #harrypotterxreader #killing butterflies #killing butterflies harry potter x reader #harry james potter #harry james potter x reader #hjp #hjp x reader #hjp x black! reader #harry james potter x black! reader #harry potter enemies to lovers

[murfpersonalblog]

Carol Cutshall better get an Emmy this year, I ain't playin!

"Cutshall and her team had to embrace a new reality, one initially devoid of the first season’s material pleasures..... Free of their maker, an austere Louis and Claudia flee New Orleans for Europe in search of a coven of vampires to call their own. There they find themselves in the ravaged wasteland of World War II, where sorrow pollutes even the blood they drink."

"It was such a drastic change going into season two. We went from the height of glamour, which we last saw during a Mardi Gras party, to the polar opposite in the premiere. When you look at Louis and Claudia in their shearling coats in Romania and the amount of mud and blood on them, those looks are built for surviving and searching and starting over."

This what I meant when I talked about AMC intensifying the horror for show!Claudia vs book!Claudia. They're starting over, runaway slaves free at last from Massa Lestat's domestic terrorism; following the Drinking Gourd north to the promised land of milk & honey--but their exodus isn't some glorious adventure--it's Hell on Earth!

I adore the juxtaposition Carol makes between the obscene opulence of Mardi Gras NOLA vs the Grimm realities of war-torn Europe. Book!Lou&Claud traveled across Europe in a lavish carriage Claudia picked out, and had the luxury of taking their fancy coffins with them in it.

NGL I was hoping Carol would talk about these outfits in particular:

AMC's Lou & Claud look like they've been sleeping underground/in a battlefield, dressed in animal skins/furs--not the fancy furs PETA jumps folks for, but nasty Caveman Couture rags. And I can't help but think about the furs they wore in the film, looking rich AF, even as Lou complained about how sad he was. 🙄😒

So I am SO IN LOVE with AMC sending Louis & Claudia to WWII Europe. They're in Ploiești/Romania in 1941--in the book they're in 1800s Varna/Germany. Romania was a major ally for the Nazis in WWII, and the LAST place Claud should be--let alone Louis (a gay Black African American man)--let alone because Romania was bombed TF up in the early 1940s.

They're running slow AF like regular humans--no super vamp speed at their disposal to flee from the bombs--cuz they've been STARVING. They're eating the dead like a bunch of ghoulish necrophages (come through, Witcher 3 folklore!).

Like, in the film the big idea was that drinking dead blood could kill a vampire. But in TVL & Blood Communion we know that's not the case when Lestat drinks the corpses Armand gave him, and when Lestat gives the Vampire Court Rhoshamandes' corpse--it's not deadly, but it's not great, either. Drinking blood should be PEAK sensory pleasure; but this just shows what they've been reduced to.

So to see Louis & Claudia tearing into pieces of the dead to suck up what's left is like cannibalism at its rawest, basest & most primitive--straight out of a dystopian zombie apocalypse. There's no transcendent power in the dead like what Maharet & Lestat described. Lou & Claud are scavengers in as battlefield, fighting for scraps just to survive and endure, but not really live.

And I feel so much worse for Claudia, cuz she LITERALLY didn't ask for this mess! Unlike Louis--and unlike book/film!Claudia--she was Born into Darkness w/out her awareness or consent. AMC puts this poor girl through HELL. The things she's seen & experienced made her "built for survival;" but she's also "built like a bird," and just as ignorant about vampires & the Old World as Louis--though they're both bookish intellectuals who THINK they're ready for Europe.

So they have no effing idea, cuz Lestat never told them WHY Europe was such bad news. They're blind and completely in the dark!

And then they FINALLY arrive in Paris--a breath of fresh air after the war.

But glamour returns to their lives as the pair forge ahead in Paris.... Seduced by their habit of living loudly and proudly — at least at night — Louis relaxes into his post-Lestat life, taking up photography and exploring his sexuality in subtle ways. “The look I landed on for him was that of artists and café society, and French workwear with a little bit of a blue-collar look,” Cutshall says. “It’s not the finery that we are used to for Louis, but his fastidiousness in how he wears it — tucked and belted — is still there.” There is a visual hierarchy among these old-world vampires. Louis wears the costume of the common man, placing him below the coven’s creative director, Armand, the so-called love of his life"

The "visual hierarchy" of Louis being "placed BELOW" the Old World vampires had me vibrating in my seat, especially wrt Armand, the biggest baddest boogeyman vs fledgling vampires in the books.

"We want to break away from the disguise he had in season one, because he is the mega predator,” Cutshall says. “He's not threatened by anyone. So, in everything he does and wears, he can be like an animal who is not afraid to lie on their back and bare their belly."

Which is precisely what I said about Lestat in his Mardi Gras dress & his Matador pajamas. Cuz Lou & Claud are constantly put on the exact same level--at the BOTTOM of the food chain & the gendered/social hierarchies of vampire covens in both NOLA & Europe.

But what's interesting's that AMC diversified the Theatre--there's Black & Asian vampires, not the all-white coven from the books.

The Theatre has truly become a microcosm of the entire world, highlighting just how sheltered Lou & Claud were in the New World. The history of America is very black and white--or rather: white versus black. After the Native Americans were wiped out, American racism molded & shaped centuries of slavery & oppression specifically designed to keep Black people at the bottom of barrel, even when they were "freed/emancipated." But in the Old World, power & conquest was continental--Africa & Asia & Europe were ALL major superpowers at one time or another, kicking each other's arses. Race & racism still plays a huge part in European imperialism, OF COURSE, but WWII showed how white folk are just as prone to killing & oppressing each other, let alone anyone else. 😂 Louis & Claudia's problems w/ Lestat are radically different from their problems w/ Armand (now a brown Asian, as Russia & the Ukraine are also globalized; dispelling the myth about Russians only ever being white people).

But Santiago's an altogether different beast--but eerily familiar.

"Her thirst for attention is surpassed only by Santiago, the extravagant emcee of the theater troupe. For Santiago’s big onstage entrance in episode two, Cutshall took inspiration from performers like Peter O’Toole and Laurence Olivier. “I started with Fred Astaire, but with a bit of a bondage twist for Santiago’s curtain look,” she says. “Who were the top dogs of the time that he would want to emulate? You can feel him striving for that."

What is fundamentally wrong with Santiago (and Lestat) is that he's a HUGE showboat, desperate for attention & validity, specifically from LOUIS, a vampire older than Santiago, attractive & new & interesting, who's approval he actually wanted & expected. But Louis's too mature/smart for Santiago, and immediately clocked him as a clown and a BUFFOON.

AMC dyed Santiago's hair blonde on purpose, ISTG, cuz the parallels w/ Lestat are hilarious. Armand's the coven master & creative director, but Santiago's the emcee & "show pony," just like Lelio!Lestat was back in the day. Les' pony on meth meme is SO apt!

And just like Lestat pulled the rug under Armand at Les Innocents, taking on a leadership role for the Children of Satan and ushering in their new era as vampires who'd join society via the Theatre, Santiago usurps Armand's position as the ringleader against Claudia & Louis. Even though Armand wanted all that to happen, he's more passive than Les & Santiago, far more active & dominant despite being significantly weaker & younger in the Blood than Armand. Wolf Killer Lestat and "top dog" Santiago are cut from the same cloth, down to the pinstripes--which Carol already said were supposed to symbolize cage/jail bars--"back in your cage, sweetheart."

CAROL! I desire you CARNALLY! ❤️

#interview with the vampire #justice for claudia #louis de pointe du lac #the vampire armand #male fashion #fashion statement #fashion history #read a dang history book #mind blown #must see tv #the hype is real #iwtv tvc metas

[slytherhys]

Cruel Summer I

A/N: I would like to apologise simply because I've been in an all-out war with this chapter and it's taken me longer than what I wanted to finish it - I think I've rewritten it over 3 times simply because it never felt right. But I truly hope you guys like the final version and feel motivated enough to keep reading.

Also...she's a big one. 😳

TW: Strong language and eventual explicit content

Prologue - I - II - III

If there was one place in the world where nothing ever seemed to go wrong, it was the Archeron’s summer house, just 6 miles to the south of the city of Adriata.

Ever since they were little girls, driving up to that sunny house on the rocky coast of the city to spend the summer with Nana had felt like the closest thing to heaven a 7-year-old Elain ever knew.

To this day, there was nothing more comforting than the scent of salt and lemons, the sight of walls painted in every possible shade of blue, as if Nana had wanted to capture every single mood of the sea inside her own home. 

Not for the first time, Elain wondered if that was one of the reasons why Nesta had been so adamant on celebrating her engagement party here – for what that old house represented. For the happiness that had brought them through their shaky childhood. As if by being here she could have the comfort of freshly baked goods and worn-out books in her future life – Nana’s blessing, in its own way.

It was at Nana’s house that Feyre had gotten her first canvas, using Nana’s old brushes to paint from morning until late afternoon - the very same brushes that Feyre still kept somewhere in her studio even after all these years. It was where Nesta and Nana had spent entire afternoons reading and drinking fresh lemonade, while Elain sat under the lemon tree and tried to draw all of her favourite flowers in the garden overlooking the sea. Memories of laughter and sorrow, of growing up surrounded by her favourite people seemed to follow as she crossed the empty house and stepped into the terrace. Memories of love and happiness. Whereas she’d usually smile at their comforting presence, today they seemed to mock her.

Elain squinted against the setting sun, the sea breeze ruffling her satin dress against her skin, the salty scent a gentle reminder that she was home. It ought to feel comforting, but try as she may, all Elain felt was the sweat under her arms, the beating of her erratic heart pressing against her ribcage. It was all she could do not to throw up the champagne she had picked up at the entrance – mainly since her stomach seemed to riot at the very thought of seeing him again.  

The terrace was crowded, people Elain had never seen before talking with familiar faces mingling, laughter and chatter a steady sound that played along the soft jazz playing in the background. All around the terrace, fairy lights illuminated the evening sky, creating a sort of romantic ambience that could only be achieved in Adriata in the summer. Food was served, as were glasses of champagne, sangria, and lemonade. People danced, flirted, and chatted, happy to celebrate the love between two of her favourite people.

It was absolutely lovely – it was a shame Elain felt completely out of place.

But it all still felt like a victory – for the first time in six long, lonely months, Elain had finally felt ready face her family and finally stop running away from her own mistakes. So what if that meant spending entirely too much money on a new dress? So what if it meant getting her hair done and spending almost two hours locked inside her hotel bathroom trying to perfect her winged eyeliner?

Sometimes looking good is the best armour, she could almost hear Nana say, her voice raspy and familiar. And she had to agree, albeit a bit reluctantly. As shallow as it was, the thought of not looking her absolute best, of not seeming as happy as she ought to be, made her nauseous. Mainly when he would surely be there.

Hence the 260 dollars spent on a lavender satin dress.

However, as her eyes scanned the crowded terrace, she couldn’t help but wonder if it had all been for naught. She didn’t feel strong – she highly doubted she looked it.

Deep down, she knew there was nothing to be worried about. As far as anyone was concerned, Elain had simply been too busy with her new promotion to come around as much – or at all – so there wasn’t much she needed to explain. She didn’t need to explain the sleepless nights, the hair colour changes, the amount of times that she had opened her store with puffy red eyes and a heavy heart. And all over a man that hadn’t tried to reach out once.

How ridiculous was that?

Feyre and Nesta certainly didn't need to know about all of that. She had already earned enough pity stares and condescending pats on the back once - she hardly needed to prove to them that she was the naive little girl they thought she was.

Even if they were right, Elain thought with a wince.

Maybe coming hadn’t been the best idea, after all. Maybe even with the dress, and the make-up and the therapy sessions, she wasn’t ready to face her family. To face him. Six months didn’t really feel like that long if she really thought about it. And maybe Nesta would forgive her for leaving. Maybe she could later explain that something had come up and-

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were about to bolt out of my engagement party.” Her older sister’s voice interrupted her inner turmoil, making Elain choke on her drink, tearing up as she stared at Nesta. Her sister smiled warmly, her blue eyes taking in Elain’s appearance from head to toe. Elain was relieved to see there was no anger behind them.

Nesta looked stunning – a pretty halter satin dress that wrapped around her curves like that had been the only purpose for its creation. Her long brown hair was up in a bun, the diamond earrings Cassian had given her for Christmas glistening under the fairy lights. Elain smiled, ignoring the wave of memories that threatened to drown her at the sight of that particular gift. It wasn’t the time for that.

If she were lucky, there wouldn’t be a time for that at all.

Elain grinned under Nesta’s intense scrutiny, wrapping her arms around her older sister. “Your engagement party, Nesta.” She said as way of greeting, still not quite believing it was truly happening. “I still can’t believe you're getting married.”

Nesta smiled, eyes going distant for a second. “Sometimes I can't either.”

Nesta and Cassian had butted heads more often than not, but finally seeing them accept the love they obviously had for each other had felt like everything was finally aligning.

She’s finally going to be mine, Ellie. Cassian’s voice had been heavy with emotion on the phone, as if still not entirely sure his words were true.

Elain had cried for hours, feeling like maybe, despite everything they had gone through during their childhood, there was still hope. Both her sisters were happy and loved by incredible men. So what if she was the only one left, as her family members enjoyed remembering her constantly? So what if she could already feel their assessing stare as she stepped away from Nesta’s embrace, as if already planning all the ways they could criticise her or, even worse, set her up with the endless line of single sons her neighbours all seemingly had.

She shuddered, eyes darting away from Aunt Lyla.

“My engagement party.” Nesta pulled away, raising a brow. “The one you’re 20 minutes late to.” She said, and despite the teasing tone to her voice, Elain could still hear the hurt lingering under her words. And could she blame her? It wasn’t like she could exactly explain.

I’m sorry I’m late! I had two mental breakdowns trying to get my makeup right and when I finally did, I cried and made a mess of it, so I had to do it again. Then my body didn’t feel like my own, even as I put on an entirely too expensive dress and shoes that pinch my toes every two steps. And you know why? All because I’m so desperately in love with someone who doesn’t give a shit about me. Because I wanted to look good. I wanted him to regret hurting me.

She highly doubted that sounded sane.

“I’m sorry, I-” she stammered.

“Where are your things?” Nesta eyed her hands – empty except for the empty champagne glass she had been wearing as an emotional support prop. Now, she felt as if maybe she shouldn’t be drinking at all – not with the piercing stare her sister was giving her.

Elain furrowed her brows. “My things?”

“Didn’t Cassian text you?” Nesta asked, walking to the back of the terrace, throwing a look over her shoulder that told Elain she was supposed to follow. And she did without complaint.  

Elain eyed another glass of champagne, wondering if grabbing a second one would be a good idea. “He texted me the address,” Elain frowned as she watched the bar, still following Nesta as they crossed the room. “Not that I needed the reminder of where Nana’s house was, but I appreciated the effort.”

Nesta scoffed slightly, eyes scanning the crowd – probably for her ill-doing fiancé. “I sent him the exact text he needed to send. All he had to do was copy and paste. Even forward the message if that was a little too hard. And still-”

Elain stopped Nesta with a soft touch to her arm. “Hey,” she smiled. “Everything’s okay.”

Nesta bit her bottom lip, eyes worried as she scanned the room again. Elain swallowed, a bubble of unease making its way up her throat.

“Everything’s okay, right?” She asked, voice low as she noticed Aunt Lyla eyeing them with a gleam in her cold eyes.

Nesta smiled unconvincingly. “Of course,” She sighed. “I’m just nervous.”

“What should Cassian have told me?”

Nesta shook her head, eyes focusing on everything but Elain. “Might as well just tell everyone at the same time.” She said, as if that eased Elain in any shape or form.

A torrent of scenarios flooded her mind – maybe they weren’t getting married after all; maybe they were already married; maybe they all knew Elain was embarrassingly in love with Azriel and this was some sort of intervention filled with people she had never seen before; maybe their dad wasn’t coming.

Elain shook her head slightly, startled to see Nesta was already a few paces ahead, heading straight to the very same people Elain had hoped to avoid for a bit longer – even if she was craving their hugs desperately.

Rhys and Feyre were standing by the large oak table overlooking the sea - the same one where they had shared every meal with their Nana when they were little. He had his arm around Feyre's waist, his white shirt contrasting beautifully against his dark skin. Feyre was laughing, her blue dress making her eyes stand out, even against the vast of the sea. Cassian was all lazy smiles, a beer in his hand as he told what was probably a very interesting joke.

Elain almost waved at them, trying to get their attention, but Nesta had other plans.

“You didn’t tell her?” Nesta shrieked, slapping Cassian’s bulky arm as soon as she reached him. Cassian startled, spilling some of his beer as he turned to his fiancée, eyes heating once they trailed the slope of her curves.

There was nothing like being around her sisters and their partners to make Elain wish she was less observant.

“What didn't I do?” He smirked, leaning back against the stone wall as his eyes found Nesta’s. For a second, it was as if the entire world ceased to exist around them.

That is, until Nesta growled and physically stepped away from Cass.

“You didn’t tell Elain!” She said, outraged. Cassian’s eyes widened slightly, flickering to Elain’s hovering form. He grinned, handing his beer to Rhys and taking two steps before wrapping his arms around her.

“Ellie!” He said, pulling her a few inches up from the ground and planting a kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful.”

Elain smiled despite herself. “Hi Cass,” She squeezed him back. “Heard you were getting married?” She teased, making Cassian chuckle as he set her down.

“As soon as possible, too.” He said, eyes softening as he pulled Nesta to his side, dropping a sweet kiss on her temple. Her sister beamed up at him, pure joy in her eyes even if she were trying to seem mad.

“Elain!” Feyre pressed a kiss to her cheek, smiling as Rhysand gave her a hug. “We’ve been waiting for you.” Feyre said as she leaned against Rhys, his hand wrapping around her waist like it was the natural thing to do. She supposed for them it was. “Are you already settled in?”

Elain chuckled, eyeing everyone as they stared at her. Nesta simply looked away, her eyes scanning the crowd even as Cassian pressed a kiss to her cheek, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist. “I am, I got in last night.”

Cassian look at her then, furrowing his brows as he smiled, confused. “No, you didn’t.”

Elain raised her eyebrows. “What?”

“We’ve been here for two days, the first person to get here was-”

“Where have you been staying, Ellie?” Rhys cut in, ignoring the glare his best friend sent his way.

“At the hotel on main street.” She smiled uncertainly, noting the look Cassian sent Nesta, unease building inside her stomach as the seconds ticked by.

“The hotel?” Feyre frowned, eyeing Nesta for a second before her gaze returned to Elain. “Hasn’t Nesta-”

“Let’s wait for everyone to get here.” Nesta interrupted swiftly, making Rhys raise an eyebrow. He mumbled something under his breath, earning a glare from Nesta and a soft nudge from Feyre.

“Hasn’t Nesta what?” Elain asked, eyes flickering between the four people standing in front of her.

“He will be here any second now.” Nesta said, grabbing a canapé from the table and shoving it into her mouth – to avoid further conversation, Elain was sure.

Fuck, something had really happened, hadn’t it? “Is everything okay?” She asked Nesta again, eyeing Cassian for good measure, who simply gave her a sympathetic smile. Nesta simply kept eating small entrées, sharing nervous glances with Feyre. "Nesta." She pushed.

“I want to have this conversation only once, so let’s just wait for everyone to be here.”

“Who’s everyone?” Elain all but whined, her heart racing inside her chest. She knew who everyone was – knew exactly who they were all waiting for. She just didn’t want to admit it, to face it.

Nesta raised a brow. “Who do you think, Ellie?”

Feyre bit her lip, Rhys smirking behind his wine glass as they both look away. “I’m not sure.” She said, laughing nervously as she wiped her clammy hands on her dress.

“Just tell her.” Feyre sighed, leaning back against her husband in defeat.

“But-”

“Fucking hell, tell me what?” Elain snapped, wincing as everyone turned to look at her.

“Fine!” Nesta huffed, pasting a bright smile on her lips before her eyes settled on Elain. “We’re spending the next two weeks here.” She said simply, as if that made any fucking sense.

It didn’t.

Elain frowned. “Why are you and Cassian spending two weeks here?”

Feyre turned her head towards Rhys, whispering something that made him chuckle. Nesta eyed them nervously before turning her attention back to Elain.

Jesus, this was a shitshow.

She could feel sweat running down her back, her breathing ragged as Nesta explained, “Not just me and Cassian.” She said, holding her fiancé’s hands as if needing the support. “All of us.” She said with a firm nod.

“What do you mean all of us?” She chuckled. “I don’t know if I can-”

“All of us.” Nesta pressed, as if it were obvious. “I already talked with your friend and he didn’t mind holding your shop for the time being.” Nesta shrugged, once again acting as if that was a normal thing to do. As if she could just make changes in her life and Elain had to be okay with it.

She took a deep breath, urging herself to calm down and not ruin her sister’s engagement party. Cassian was fidgeting, as if physically unable to stand the tension that suddenly seemed to surround them. Elain felt like she could choke on it.

“The next two weeks are for Cassian and me, Feyre and company,” Rhysand rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his wine. Unbothered, as only he managed. “you and-”

No. Not happening. “Why?”

Nesta sighed, as if she was the one being insufferable. “Because I’m getting married, Elain.”

She scoffed. “Yeah, in months.”

Rhysand snorted, making Nesta narrow her eyes. Cassian fixed his throat, sending Elain an apologetic smile. “Not really.”

“What do you mean not really?”

Nesta rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she eyed Cassian nervously. “Stop asking stupid questions. What do you think it means?”

“When, exactly, is the wedding?” She gritted through her teeth.

Nesta squared her shoulders, raising her chin as she said, “Well,”

“When?” Elain pushed.

“In two weeks.” Rhysand added helpfully, earning himself another nudge from Feyre.

“Rhysand!” She reprimanded, but he simply pressed a kiss to her cheek, ignoring the glare Nesta sent his way.  

“Just put her out of misery, Nesta.” He deadpanned, making Nesta bristle.

“Thanks.” Elain muttered.

 “It wasn’t your fucking place-”

“Nes, it’s not a big deal.” Feyre interrupted gently, trying to keep everyone calm.

That she grabbed Rhysand’s glass of wine and drank it all went unacknowledged by all of them.

“It is to me!” She huffed, glaring at their little sister. “Why are you always taking his-” Elain tuned out, suddenly feeling too hot.

Two weeks. They were all going to spend two weeks together in the same house – a house that once upon a time had become her escape, her safe space where all things were bright and pretty. All because, for whatever reason, Nesta and Cassian were getting married in two weeks. And there was a reason, Elain was sure of it. Nesta liked planning too much for it all to be a casual agreement.

“In two weeks?” Elain asked, needing verbal confirmation. “Why so soon?” She wondered if they heard her – then wondered if she had spoken too loudly when they all fell silent. Rhysand reached for two more glasses, handing one to Feyre. Nesta’s hand was still wrapped around Cassian’s, her knuckles white where she squeezed his fingers. Why Elain noticed that, she didn’t know.

“Why not?” Nesta challenged.

“Why are we staying here?” She pressed.

“Is that important?”

“I’m apparently spending two weeks away from my shop so yes, I’d say so.”

“You spent the last six months in your shop, so I don’t see why that would be a problem.” Nesta snapped, taking a deep breath as soon as the words were out of her mouth. Everyone else remained quiet, including Elain. It wasn’t like Nesta wasn’t right, so there wasn’t much to say anyway.

“Because” She tried again. “I want us to celebrate together before the wedding. We want to be able to celebrate everything with the people we love.” Her voice was gentler, her hand still tightly wrapped around Cassian’s. She briefly glanced at Feyre’s husband. “And Rhysand can come too.”

“Funny.” He drawled, but not even their usual bickering turned Elain’s attention away from the fact Nesta Archeron was nervous. Nervous because she thought Elain would leave, that Elain would rather be in her shop than to take two measly weeks off to celebrate one of the happiest times of her sister’s life with her. Nervous because she had planned a two-week getaway at their childhood home just so they could have a little bit of happiness before everyone was off to their own lives, away from each other as they had been for the past six months.

Mainly thanks to her.

Could she ever turn away from the people she loved the most? No, she couldn’t. Not even when it meant spending two weeks facing the very same mistakes that made her stay away for so long.

Elain turned to Rhys, frowning. “You took the weeks off?”

Rhys shrugged. “We all did.” He smiled softly, turning his attention to Cassian. “My best friend is getting married.”

“You’re telling me Azriel took two weeks off?” She said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. By the way Feyre raised an eyebrow, she doubted she had been all that successful.

“Well… Yeah.” Rhys said, eyes flickering around the group. “I approved his vacation myself.” He eyed her carefully. “Why, Ellie?”

She shrugged; aware she was threading a very dangerous line. “Seems unlikely.”

Rhys exchanged a look with Feyre, and for the first time Elain felt annoyed. How was it fair that they seemed to be able to communicate with one another with no words ever being said?

“He has never missed one of our gatherings, Elain.” Feyre added gently.

Unlike her, they didn’t need to add. “I know, but-”

“Azriel is staying.” Nesta said plainly. “I just need to know if you are too.”

Staying, meaning it was very likely he was already here. She wasn’t sure how to feel about it – how to feel about all of it. She couldn’t go away. She couldn’t leave her family simply because she was too much of a coward to face a man. Her Nana would be turning in her grave if she even dreamed of it.

So what if her heart was cracking open at the thought of having to see his face every day for two weeks? So what if she was supposed to celebrate love as if it were something to celebrate, when really it had broken her so thoroughly she hadn’t managed to go on a single date without wanting to throw up? And she had tried – she had tried to be the person her Nana wanted her to be, to be someone her sisters would be proud of. To be the person she had always been when she was with Azriel.

She wasn’t sure she was strong enough to do it – and if the hair dye, the sleepless nights, and the failed dates were any indication, she wasn’t.

But for her sisters, she’d do it.

“I’m staying, Nesta.” She nodded, smiling as she felt her decision settle into her bones, her resolve strong. “Of course I am.”

“I’m glad.” A too-familiar voice sounded from behind her, making her entire body freeze where she stood, her heart racing as she fought the urge to turn around. Feyre met her eyes, soft and so understanding she nearly sobbed.

Because behind her, Azriel Rosehall stood, a smile on his face, his eyes as guarded as they had been the last time she had seen him.

How did he manage to look so good when she felt as weak as she had the night she had left him in that foyer? How had her life changed so drastically while he got to look the same, be the same? It hardly seemed fair.

Elain raised her chin, squaring her shoulders as her eyes locked with his. The bastard simply smiled, as if no time had passed at all. “Hi El.” He tilted his head. “Long time no see.”

#cruel summer #elriel #elriel fic #elriel fanfic #elriel fanfiction #pro elriel #elain archeron #elriel month #elriel month 2023 #azriel #pro elain archeron #elain x azriel #my writing

[bluelead35]

the folio of foliage

alhaitham’s birthday special. 

alhaitham x gn!reader 

mentions of cyno, tighnari, nahida, nilou, and kaveh, and the reincarination theory, hints of alhaitham’s lore relating to his grandmother 

fluff, sfw, birthday blues, comfort, memories, nostaglia, sentiment, friendship,  bittersweet, confession, friends to ??? 

heavily inspired by  @l00106​ with their alhaitham birthday art, hope you dont mind me tagging you! 

In ancient civilizations and time gone by, many believers of the Scarlet King would bring offerings to celebrate the manifestation of the first appearance of their leader. They would bring fresh fruit from the forests, sing songs in front of the great mural of his Eye, and have great feasts. Even his fellow divine would join in on the festivities. The Greater Lord brought her presence to the desert to listen in and bring speciality items and songs, but also the Goddess of Flowers would put on a dance for the king. Despite Scarlet King’s hesitation towards his birthday celebrations, when both of his friends ceased to exist, he missed them dearly. 

But to cover up this feeling of sorrow, he would frown on these celebrations until the end of his rule and the fall of Gurabad. 

Alhaitham’s eyes scanned the pages of his book, sitting in a big blue chair that was placed in front of a large table sprawled out with books and papers. He had no time to dwell on the past, but he could never put aside his time for reading. The scribe understood the Scarlet King’s hesitation towards celebrations because at the grand scheme of life, fluff is only there for filler and that there was no true purpose to that. Only through logic and events that furthered life along directly was important. 

But to Alhaitham’s friends, they believed that birthday parties were crucial to life. It celebrated the way that Alhaitham was alive. .Alive enough to help the archon of his city. 

“Whatever do you mean Alhaitham’s birthday party? He has never struck me as the type to party?” Cyno’s voice was soft and quiet but you could hear it just fine over the ruckus in the cafe. A couple of students at the Akademiya were giggling and gossiping just thinking about Alhaitham. 

“I would love to participate. I could gather the ensemble for a special performance for him.” Nilou chimed in, setting down a few cups of coffee down on the table, smiling. 

Tighnari’s ears wiggled for a moment in thought as he came up with something. 

“We could get the archon to help.” Tighnari suggested, as Kaveh began to saunter in. 

“You, making a birthday celebration for that hermit?” Kaveh exclaimed, as Tighnari sighed. 

“Hermit" means someone who lives alone, Kaveh. He lives with you.” 

Kaveh rolled his eyes, sitting down next to you. 

“Like what do you see in him anyways?” This prompted you to look at Kaveh with the softest and tender look on your face. You chuckled, a light blush on your face, but then swallowed the feeling with a big gulp of coffee. 

“What do you mean? I just want to do something special for him. He saved the city from that godawful sage and the archon too.” You explained, as you received four looks from your friends. You brushed it off, as you began to initiate ideas for the celebration. 

*****************

His fingers brushed the spine of an old book-probably as old as him or even older. He couldn’t even remember a time without it. A small smile crept on his lips in the secret confines of his office, seeing the old lettering written inside the cover. It was addressed to him and I could still remember the feeling he had when he received it. 

The sunlight was seeping through the home, as an older woman sat next to him. He tore apart the wrapper paper meticulously and was surprised with a book. Its green cover with gold lettering brought his attention to the title. He looked at the woman and smiled wide. 

He held the book close to him as a young child, being inspired to read everyday, and now as an adult, he would always carry it around. The memories were worth it to bear sadness, but again, it’s a part of life. Celebrations were not. 

He shut the book, seeing the title of it, The Folio of Foliage, and put it away for the time being, feeling a tear inside but quickly dismissed it. He heard a group of students giggling up on the elevator, as he rolled his eyes. 

“Excuse me, do you have an appointment?” He asked the young ladies as they shook their heads. 

“Oh no, we just wanted to wish you a happy birthday.” 

He nodded at the regards, having no emotional response to it, and then dismissed them. He kept his head down in his books until nightfall. 

He closed up his office to be met with the shiny diamonds in the sky. He wiped his brow over the amount of work he had finished, and began walking along the street until he heard someone call his name. 

Her green eyes smiled into his own, as she was sitting on a swing she had crafted. He looked at her in admiration and respect, as she smiled. 

“A little someone told me it was your birthday, and you worked the entire day?” She questioned, as he nodded. 

“I don’t see celebrations as being crucial to life.” He responded, as she smiled. 

“I suggest you head down to Zubayr Theatre anyways. Just follow the scent.” The archon smiled, as she disappeared. He sighed, rolling his eyes and walked down the road to find the theater lit up with fireflies from the forest. He expected grand collaborations of sorts, but it was just you. 

You stood proudly on the theater’s stage with a few flowers in your hair, and surrounded by presents. You smiled at his appearance. He looked up at you with his mouth slightly agape, as the stagelight floated above you. 

“What’s this all for?” He asked, looking up at you. You turned red at his gaze, and titled your head up to find your friends above in the curtains of the stage handling the technical details. 

“Your birthday. I know you don’t like celebrations, so I thought maybe this doesn’t count as one.”  You offered his hand up. 

“The others helped clear Grand Bazaar out, so it’s just us two.” You smile at him, as he takes your hand. The softness of his hand onto yours made you blush even more, but kept strong. 

There was a silence that arose between the two of you, just watching the fireflies together and seeing the stars float in the sky, as you took a chance. 

Leaning on his shoulder, you clear your throat, “Did you tear up today?” 

He looked at you in confusion, “Huh?” “Did you get sad at all today? You know, birthday blues.” You explained, as he rested his head onto yours. 

“I did, yes, but I guess it’s quite alright.” “It is. It’s okay to be sad on your birthday. It’s a day celebrating your birthday and well the sad things that come across. The past memories make it sad sometimes. The thought of remembering someone when they’re gone, but isn’t that crucial to life?” You chuckle, as his eyes widen in shock. 

“I guess you found me out.” 

He eyed the presents in the back and having a bit of a smile, “Hope you accept these from the others. The one’s decorated in purple are from Cyno, green are Tighnari, blue are Nilou and red is Kaveh.” 

Another form of silence. 

“Also would you accept my gift for you? I know it would never top your grandmother’s, but…”  You trail off, the light blush resurfacing. 

“Hm, what is it?” He seemed a bit distant, aloof maybe, but he was inside his mind trying to process all of this. You whisper in his ear before giving him a kiss on the cheek.  “Happy Birthday, Alhaitham.”

#alhaitham x reader #alhaitham #Alhaitham genshin impact #genshin impact #alhaitham's birthday fic #fluff #comfort #sentiment #lore #scarlet king #goddess of flowers #nilou #cyno #tighnari #Kaveh

[thenewgothictwice]

A Conversation with Derek Walcott Prize-winning Poet Mosab Abu Toha – ARABLIT & ARABLIT QUARTERLY

"This conversation originally ran last year, in November 2022, after Mosab Abu Toha won a 2022 Palestine Book Award for Things You May Find Hidden in My Ear: Poems from Gaza. Last week, the collection won the Derek Walcott Prize, the judge calling it a “supertonic glossary of sorrows so extreme it bends the brace of language into fortifying, never-naïve, elegy.” ArabLit’s Jean Franco spoke to Abu Toha while he was visiting London."

"If this means something, it means that not only we in Gaza and in Palestine care about our own lives, but it’s also about the stones, the bathtub that was crushed beneath the house, the family cat, our footsteps and our memories that are being erased by the explosions and attacks. It’s about more than just our lives: it’s also about nature, it’s about the sun…

Another thing to consider is that because Gaza has been under siege forever, not only since 2007, many people my age have never been able to leave Gaza and see what the world looks like. So for me, for people my age who have never left Gaza, if you ask them ‘how big is the world’? They might answer ‘maybe it’s 10 or 100 times bigger than Gaza?’, because Gaza is their limit. I think geography and our sense of the world is distorted.

Even children confuse real life things with things associated with attacks: one time my son, when he was three years old, was with me on the balcony when he pointed at a cloud and said ‘daddy, daddy, it’s a rocket!’, and I had to explain to him that it was a simple cloud – a good, life-giving thing – and not smoke from a rocket."

#mosab abu toha #palestinian poetry

[phantom-of-the-ruckus]

Fairy tale Au Post 1

TW: For blood, scars, mentioned murder, and slight gore

I love the Grimm Fairytales and Fairytales in general. So, I decided to make an au with Hello Puppets which takes inspiration from the tales intertwining in the musical "Into the woods"

Credits to Bright and Elena's picrews:

Bright:

Elena's: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1855819

So here's a brief summary of the Au

I don't believe in Fairytales: When Sarabeth was 5 years old, she swore every night an angel-like woman would burst out of her grandmother's storybook to tell her stories every night. The stories, of course, were Fairytales in the book itself. The fairy would read her stories until one night she stopped as Beth grew older.

22 years past, and, now, journalist Sarabeth "Beth" Jenkins finds the storybook in her mother's attic once more and decided it to a local library as she is too old for Fairytales ...or she anticipated because fate gave her an unwelcoming twist

After opening the book, Beth finds herself trapped in the book itself unable to escape unless she fixes the torn pages. With new friends and foes, Beth will try to find a way to return the balance of the storybook and the real world as soon she realizes there is more than stories.

TO NOTE:

1. The only romance to be found would be only with Beth and Anthony, the established couple of "The Iron Stove", and Owen and Amy

2. I took some creative liberties with the stories themselves for fun and for oblivious reasons

3. Stories do interconnect, as the fairy tale world is not exactly that complex due to the characters being from written stories (so here's the inspo from the "Into the woods")

4. Gremlin doesn't have a second picrew due to gremliness (picrew didn't have her blue

5. I didn't realize until too late there was an axe option

Here are some of the main characters!

Sarabeth "Beth" Jenkins

Story: Not yet written/Forced into "Red Ridding Hood" by book

Character role: The human from the real world/Red Ridding Hood

When she opens her grandmother's fairy tale book, she is sent to the beginning of Red Ridding Hood's story as she is off to see her Grandpa...until she remembers she doesn't have one.

But, hey, At least she got to wear modern clothes!

Although she is stuck in a world where danger constantly lurks around...

Owen Gubberson "The Wolf Man"

Story: UNKNOWN/ Red Ridding Hood

Character Role: Unknown original role/ Big Bad Wolf

He appears to be the Big Bad Wolf in "Red Ridding Hood" but...he is not fully a wolf, isn't he? Maybe he is a werewolf or something, but there is something off about him...

And why he wants the storybook so badly?

Still, he is clearly someone to avoid....

The Fairy Godmother

Story: Unknown original story/ Cinderella and other stories relating to fairy Godmothers

Character role: Unknown original origin/ The Fairy Godmother in fairy tales

It is unknown how she came to be a Fairy Godmother, or where did she originally come from. Some say that she was not a fairy tale character at first, or that she was responsible for the narrator to disappear.

Nonetheless, she was a benevolent protector, and helped Queen Daisy to go to the festival before becoming a Queen. She also did help many fairy tale characters before her disappearance.

It is rumored that she is still alive somewhere, but it's well known she lost an eye and a rose bloomed instead

Rumor goes it was the Wolf Man behind the incident because she allegedly cursed him...

Daisy Danger (The Baker Queen)

Story: Cinderella

Character: Cinderella, now the widowed mother of two charming twin princes

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful but sorrowed baker girl who lived with her wicked stepmother and brothers as a servant after her parents died. She dreamed to go to the Prince's Festival to have fun and not work for once. Sadly, her stepmother destroyed her dresses and forbid her to go to the festival. The young woman wept at her mother's tree until a mysterious Fairy arrived and gave her a lovely dress among with slippers. The girl went to the festival and became the belle of the ball as she danced with the prince. Her wicked stepmother never recognized her.

Eventually the girl had to leave and forgot her slipper, the prince swore to find her but ironically found her through her banking and the two fell in love and married and had twin sons.

The king sadly died at war and her sons were off to help. Thankfully, she befriended the widow of one of her step's brother, and a blind prince from far, far away

Riley Ruckus (The widow with an Axe)

Story: Blue Beard

Character: Blue beard's wife/Daughter of Red Rose (Dora Ruckus) and Rapunzel's son (Manfred Ruckus)

Once upon a time, a vengeful trickster stole away the daughter of the late Queen (nicknamed) "Red Rose" and the late King for cutting his beard and breaking the curse on Manfred's brother. The trickster gave the child to a cruel couple, and the girl grew up to soon be married to a wealthy widow with a heart black as coal with a blue beard. The girl, however, was smart and managed to outsmart her husband many times. One day, the husband gave her the keys of his mansion so she could visit any room she liked except one with a red door while he was out in business. Realizing something was off, the ever so smart girl opened the door and realized the widower murdered all of his six wives, and she was probably next as the key to the forbidden room was enchanted so when she accidentally smeared it would never come off.

The husband return knowing his wife opened the door, and he took his sword ready to murder her in that dreaded room. However, when he entered, he never realized his axe was missing until too late. The girl bravely chopped off his head and inherited his wealth and adopted his dog. Her late husband's brother swore to avenge his brother

She sold his mansion, and befriended the Queen, who pardoned her crime and punished her cruel fosters. Now she lives with the Queen ready to find her home, and help her and the queen's friend, a blind prince, to find his sisters and break his curse.

Nicholas "Nick" Nack (The blind Prince)

Story: The seven Swans/the princess with the star in the forehead (gender bent)

Character: The prince and brother of seven sisters/Nephew of Prince Snow White's princess (Nicole/ @dolly-royal OC)

Once upon a time in a far, far away kingdom, there was a king with seven lovely daughters. Sadly, the king was slowly becoming mad and obsessed with having a son to take the throne, to the point that he swore to kill his own daughters if the next child of his was a son. The queen hid her daughters in the forest and promised to raise a white flag if her child was a girl (meaning they could return), or a red flag if her child was a son (meaning they could never return.) A red flag was rose and the seven girls never returned. Eventually, the queen died, and the king married a witch, however the only son made a promise to his mother to visit his sisters behind his father's back. The girls loved and swore to protect their brother from any danger, until sadly the witch found out about them and saw the seven girls as a threat to her throne.

She cursed the girls to be swans, and then took the Prince's eyesight so he could never find his sisters ever again unless a gentle girl from another world's tears fall into his eyes, breaking his blindness.

His father died, and a mysterious fairy turned his stepmother into a mirror. He was eventually found by the dog of a widow, friend of a benevolent Queen, who took her under wing. Now he is trying to find his sisters and break the curse

Until Beth broke his curse, and offered to find his sisters so he and the rest could get their happily ever afters.

Mortimer Handee (The witch)

Story: Sleeping beauty and the Iron Stove/ Most stories with a witch (except from some like Hansel and Gretel. He's not the trickster in Riley's story)

Character: The witch/sorcerer of some fairytales

Once upon a time, there was a magician king who lost it all, and swore to get revenge on anyone that wronged him. So, he turned to dark magic and began to torment princes, princesses, damsels, knights, etc. He particularly cursed the trouble making daughter of a noble king into a deadly slumber unless the tune of a magical harp was played to wake her up. He then locked a handsome prince into an iron stove, before a lovely Princess broke him free. Furthermore, he turned the prince into a talking iron stove himself. He tricked a young farmer into buying magical beans to help his family, and tricked the noble king into lying to said farmer so he could retrieve the harp from a giant to save his daughter.

He spent around tormenting people, until he was threatened by the Wolf Man to take away his powers if he didn't help him capture a woman in a red jacked and her book.

Likewise, he decided to bring back to life a puppet of a childless toy maker in hopes to capture the mysterious lady and her book.

Anthony Pierson (The Puppet boy)

Story: Pinocchio

Character: Pinocchio

Once upon a time, there was a childless toy maker and his wife. They couldn't conceive, so they spent their time making toys for children. After his wife passed away, the toy maker created a wooden puppet lad to become his son to cope with the grief. A mysterious fairy Godmother took pity of the man and brought the puppet to life. Sadly, the puppet boy wasn't exactly the greatest boy and had a complicated relationship with his father who left him, and the boy became dormant and bitter. Years later, a witch brough the puppet back to life with the promise he could make him a real boy and take revenge from his father if he helped him capture a mysterious girl and her story book.

Sadly he didn't expected that the fairy godmother that first gave him life, also curse him with his nose growing if he lied...nor that he would ended up falling for the girl (and vice versa), and wanting to help her quest.

Sadly the Wolf Man and the Witch aren't to happy about this...

Angelize "Angel" Analyze (The feather princess)

Story: The iron Stove

Character: The princess in the Iron Stove

Once upon a time, there was a shy but wise princess reading books into the forest when she heard a sweet lad's voice asking for help. Hesitantly, she rushed to help only to find an iron stove. It turned out that the lad was trapped because of a wicked witch wanted revenge from his father, so she used a feather she carried to open the Iron Stove and free the prince. The two eventually became friends and fell in love, the prince proposed and they became engaged. However, the princess father was not thrilled with the idea of her daughter marrying some iron stove in the forrest, so he gave away the Prince's location to the witch that cursed the prince.

The witch turned the Prince into a stove, and the princess ran from her kingdom and father to help her lover return to his original self.

She eventually realized there was hope as Seven swans told her and her lover to find blind prince, a widower, and a benelovent queen to guide them.

Charles "Charlie" Burlington (The Iron Prince)

Story: The iron Stove

Character: The prince trapped in an Iron stove

Once upon a time, there was a clumpsy prince charming, whose father tricked an evil witch. One day, the young lad was up getting a stroll into the gardens when an elderly man asked to him out get log and coal for his iron stove. The boy rushed and help the old man, but when he was about to turn on the stove, the old man (who was in reality the witch his father tricked) lock him in and cursed the lock so it would become unbreakable and no key attempted to be forge would open the stove. So he spent his days asking for help and begging for someone to free him, until a shy princess managed to open the stove as a feather was no key or strong enough to break the lock. They became friends, and then lovers to soon marry off.

Sadly his lover's father was not pleased and told the witch that curse him his hiding place. He was turned into a stove and became hopeless until his love return swearing she will find a way to break the curse

On their long adventures, he offered to keep a young swan warm burning log an coal on himself with the help of his lover. Touched by their kindness and their situation, the swan calle dher six sisters and told him to find a blind prince and his friends to help him break the curse.

Scout Harper (Briar Rose)

Story: Sleeping beauty

Character: Sleeping Beauty/Briar Rose

Once upon a time, there was a trouble making but sweet princess running wild and causing trouble in the town. She eventually befriended a young farmer, after he took care of her stuffed Rabit. The two became friends, and she promised to tell her father to help the farmer and his mother. However, she was drawn by a spinning wheel in an old cabin and when she touch spindle, she fell into a deep slumber. This was because her father refused to invite a wicked witch, who was once a kind, into the part on held when she was born. The wtich placed a curse on her that she would fall into a deadly slumber when she touched the spindle of a spinning wheel (which his father foolishly decided to destroy all) and could be only be woken up by the melody of a golden harp.

Thankfully, her farmer friend found the harp through some beans and a magical beanstock,and helped her wake up. The down side, was that her father tricked him into stealing that harp from a giant living up in the clouds. So, the two basically became outlaws and now are finding a way to avoid the giant's wrath and get revenge on that witch man.

Thankfully they found a mysterious girl with a red jacket/cape whiling to help them out along with her friends. Sadly, she also appears to have that crazy Wolf Man and the Witch after her...

-

This took longer than expected, but alas I still got some more cast to create and work on more picrews as I got a lot of drawings to get done + Picrews help me visualize better and honestly I kinda don't want to get full designs of so many characters yet.

Anyways, I've been brainrotting lately about this fairytale AU, which kinda helped me bring back my energy and love for HP once again.

For those curious about what Charles looks like a stove as the curse does take time to break, here it is:

He has eyebrows and his mouth shaped into a smile when he needs to. The Au of course takes into the angsty side but sometimes we need a bit of comedy to lighten up things up + honestly I could not resist the stupid urge to make this a thing

Ask box is always open and I would be thrilled to answer your questions while I work for the next batch!

#hello puppets #hello puppets midnightshow #riley ruckus #nick nack #mortimer handee #daisy danger #Owen Gubberson #Anthony Pierson #Sarabeth “Beth” Jenkins (OC) #Beth Jenkins (OC) #Angelize “Angel” Analyze (OC) #Angel Analyze (OC) #Charles “Charlie” Burlington (OC) #Charlie Burlington (OC) #scout hello puppets #tw: body horror #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: violent death #tw: murder #tw: mentions of death #tw: mentions of violence #tw: implied death #tw: implied violence #tw: abandonment #there is too picrews because i decided to with both XD

[biblicallyaccuratechicken]

@toytanks I had to ok

Have a list of every MCR song (that I've heard of) and how it relates to Billford, which I definitely do not ship and if you've ever seen any proof to the contrary noo you didn't

I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love

(fuckk even the album name is Billford-coded)

Romance -- no lyrics, but I do think that the fact that they only played the part in minor and not the major one does feel like Billford

Honey, This Mirror Isn't Big Enough for the Two of Us -- post-betrayal Billford. There are two distinct parts to this song; the one that comes first is Bill, and the other is Ford.

Vampires Will Never Hurt You -- honestly this kinda feels like the opposite of Billford to me, it's more like Ford x Jheselbraum.

Drowning Lessons -- One Of Us AU? It still doesn't feel quite right to me though

Our Lady of Sorrows -- it definitely feels like Billford, particularly from Bill's perspective, but some of the lyrics make me think more of Fiddauthor (kill me right now)

Headfirst For Halos -- it feels like Bill starting to catch feelings for Ford and partying trying to forget but still gushing about him lmao

Skylines and Turnstiles -- it just kinda feels like Billford, I can't explain it.

Early Sunsets Over Monroeville -- to me it kinda feels like around the time Ford found out about the betrayal. Like, the narrative of being really close and sharing happy memories and dreams, and then suddenly your lover is a monster you have to destroy

This Is The Best Day Ever -- perhaps, if Ford was a shape like Bill, and Bill destroyed his dimension for Ford's sake.

Cubicles -- lmao I can see Bill sulking about Ford to this song

Demolition Lovers -- this song was definitely on the soundtrack of the most toxic relationship I've ever been in, so I know for a FACT that this is 100% a Billford song.

Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge

Helena -- I could see this being from Ford's point of view, during Wierdmageddon. Some of it feels like One Of Us AU.

Give 'Em Hell, Kid -- on the other hand, this one is definitely Bill during Ford's exile

To The End -- the level of toxicity is definitely there, but since it's a pretty clear narrative, I'll call it vibes-only-Billford

You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison -- it is, again, mostly vibes-only, but I can also see post-betrayal Ford feeling this way if they happened to hook up during that time

I'm Not Okay (I Promise) -- I really don't think this fits them at all, but the one clip of Frankie going "you have something on your face" and then violently taking a fallen eyelash from the cheerleader's face before absolutely booking it is something I could see happening between them and it cracks me up

The Ghost of You -- this feels like either post-betrayal Bill or if they became a couple and Ford died of old age

The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You -- This is just Billford. I. What do you want from me.

Interlude -- not really Billford. I'll say it. Yeah, it's melancholy, but again it feels more like Ford x Jheselbraum or Fiddauthor.

Thank You For The Venom -- Billford, either perspective. It feels very reminiscent of the exile era (or even during Weirdmageddon?)

Hang 'Em High -- This also feels very much like Billford. Not sure when I'd place it to, but the vibes are there, especially One of Us AU imo.

It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's A Fucking Deathwish -- Billford. That's it that's the commentary.

Cemetery Drive -- definitely post-betrayal Billford, particularly Ford's perspective ("Is this what you always want me for?" I'm going FERAL)

I Never Told You What I Do For A Living -- Bill. Bill. Bill. Bill. Bill. You Cannot Change My Mind It Is Imbued With His Essence And The One He Is Singing To And About Is Fordsy.

Welcome To The Black Parade

The End. -- nothing obviously Billford sticks out to me, but some of the lyrics could be applied to either of their perspectives, precisely because it's so neutral

Dead! -- post-season 2 Ford about Bill (though the last lyrics are definitely something Bill would vibe with)

This Is How I Disappear -- post-betrayal, pre-season 2 Billford. Could also fit pre-betrayal, but not as much due to its “laughing at a bad thing to hide the pain I lie awake over” vibes

The Sharpest Lives -- Bill. 100%. Maybe Ford during exile. Idk I know he made some decisions he regretted later back then.

Welcome To The Black Parade -- Ford post-season 2, maybe? It doesn't scream it to me, but it could be made to fit ("your weary widow marches on etc etc)

I Don't Love You -- post-betrayal, from Bill's perspective

House of Wolves -- it's just Billford. Idk what you want me to say.

Cancer -- if Bill reincarnated as a human and couldn't be with Ford

Mama -- this one fits Bill as a character really well, as well as One Of Us AU Billford

Sleep -- post-betrayal Billford

Teenagers -- yeah I don't really see it. Some of the lyrics do have that paranoid feeling Ford has pre-exile though

Disenchanted -- definitely feels like Billford from Bill's perspective. Some of the lyrics also feel like Bill reflecting on his life as he's dying, and the bridge in particular feels like post-exile Bill

Famous Last Words -- So. Much. Billford. I can't speak.

Blood -- doesn't really strike me as Billford. I do see elements of the two of them separately though

The Black Parade: The B-Sides

My Way Home Is Through You -- heavy Billford vibes, though some of the lyrics also make me think of Ford x Jheselbraum. That's neither here nor there though, as this is a Billford-driven list of reviews.

Kill All Your Friends -- Billford. It feels like both of their perspectives, but some of the verses feel like Weirdmageddon-era Bill.

Heaven Help Us --definitely a Billford song. Again, it could be from either of their perspectives, but I'm feelin a lot of Bill from a few of the lyrics. Ford has his moments in the sun too, though

Danger Days: The True Lives of The Fabulous Killjoys

(listen a lot of these are about love so ofc they're gonna be Billford that's just how my idealistic brain works ok I mean who said that I don't ship Billford hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha)

I am counting Look Alive Sunshine as part of Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) because it's true ok -- it kinda feels like the two of them coping with their separation during the exile era and it cracks me up to hell and back

Bulletproof Heart -- Bill trying to convince Ford to join him during Weirdmageddon and it's working

SING -- this is definitely how Bill sees himself. In a Billford context, I can see this also as him trying to convince Ford

Planetary (Go!) -- wow, our first 100% pre-betrayal Billford song! It tastes like candy and battery acid and stardust

The Only Hope For Me Is You -- this could easily apply, with its galactic imagery and love-song-esque feeling. I could see this being Ford, having been by Bill's side after Weirdamageddon for many years, telling him "This isn't the answer, we only need each other"

Party Poison -- HHHHHHHHH it feels like Billford in that it feels like the two of them interacting. Lyrically, it mostly makes me think of Ford during Weirdmageddon trying to stop the party, but MCR are musical geniuses so it also feels like the party itself. This one turned me into a little geek ngl it's one of their songs that gets the biggest primal reaction out of me.

Save Yourself, I'll Hold Them Back -- gonna be honest, this one, more than anything else, reminded me of Dipper and Wendy's time together during Weirdmageddon. It does feel very much like Bill though in the sense that it bleeds anarchy and lasers

S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W -- again, this was part of the soundtrack of my toxic relationship, so I really want it to be Billford but if I'm being honest it's just hard to see.

Summertime -- This does feel like Billford, in a more fluffy way than any of the others. "Terrified of what I'd be [...] Could you stop the noise" feels a lot like Ford as he met Bill. Really, this whole song is more Ford-sung than Bill, but I could also see most of the lyrics being sung by Bill (it just depends on his back story, which as of now we can only speculate)

DESTROYA -- I definitely would put this on a Billford playlist, but imo this is another vibes-only one. Like, the denial of God and the "we're in this together" and stuff is there, but lyrically it just doesn't quiiite hit the mark for me

The Kids From Yesterday -- much like Planetary (Go!), this one feels like pre-betrayal, stardust and citric acid, Billford

Vampire Money -- this seems like Bill's initial ideal of how Billford would turn out lol. Also, Bill partying and pretending he's okay without Ford during the exile. Also, Ford partying and pretending he's okay without Bill during the exile. Also, Ford being mad at Bill during the exile. Also-

We Don't Need Another Song About California -- this does feel like Ford talking to Bill, and it also has Billford vibes

(i know there are others but i haven't heard them that often so i wouldn't be a good judge so! moving on...)

Conventional Weapons

(I hope to God these are all Billford cause they're some of my favorites)

Boy Division -- I can very easily see this as Billford, and like Bill is bein dramatic to Ford about what happened at Weirdmageddon cause you know he's not letting that little "murder" go even though it was incredibly justified and Ford has way more reason to be mad but he's just patiently sitting through it and waiting for Bill to let him talk

Tomorrow's Money -- despite the actual point of this song, it also feels like Bill talking to Ford post-season 2 at some points

AMBULANCE -- oh this is very Billford. Yessiree, this is the good shit, especially One Of Us AU

Gun. -- This is definitely from Ford's perspective. What are you obsessing over a gun for? To kill this dream demon? Why are you so worried about having a son? Hm? So in other words, you're obsessing over this dream demon and sad you can't have a family with him? Is that it? Pretty gay tbh

The World Is Ugly -- This is an us-vs-them love song. This was made for them.

The Light Behind Your Eyes -- Bill sad about losing/leaving Ford cause he's just one more in a string of people dear to him but especially Ford because it's been so long since someone was that close and he wishes now that he could've done things differently but alas

Kiss the Ring -- I'm sorry, it's mostly just Weirdamageddon-era Bill. Some of it is like Ford replying to him, but otherwise there's not really all that much Billford in it

Make Room!!!! -- yeah again, it's mostly just Weirdmageddon Bill, though in this one he is doing a lot of ogling Ford I think

Surrender The Night -- oh Billford 100%. Dreams, secrets, surrender, everything. It's just Them, and you can't change my mind

Burn Bright -- this feels like the idealized version of Billford we you all have in our your heads, y'know? Like, we you want them to go on these adventures together and be steamy about it a good amount of the time, and that's what this is. This is them being anarchist murder hoboes together and I love that for them <3 and that's that ig

#this took me way too long #hvmw svop #•••---••• #i swear i'm normal and not extra and not a ford kinnie and not a billford shipper i swear don't tell on me to mom please #codecracking

[spinningbuster98]

Castlevania (NES) Ending: And this time STAY dead!

Stage 5 is uhh quite infamous you could say!

Now I think that most of the stage actually isn’t that bad, it doesn’t even have any insta kill obstacles for once. The main threat are those Knights who take a lot of punishment and will throw axes at two different altitudes without any warning, but here’s a trick I found out: throw some holy water and then back away: they will try to close the gap between themselves and you and in doing so they’ll run right into the column of fire generated by the Holy Water which will kill them in roughly two hits!

The big issue is the entire ending portion where you have to deal with two of these fuckers AND an endless wave of Medusa Heads at the same time, and right after that you fight Death, by far the hardest boss in the game besides the Count, who just floats around while spawning an endless supply of homing sickles.

The idea I guess is to use a throwing crucifix, which you can find in the room just before, to keep the sickles at bay while also doing your best to dodge them and Death. It CAN be done...but after that hallway of pain and misery you’ll most likely be at Death’s door not just literally but also metaphorically. I have done it this way in the past but I just couldn’t do it this time, what you see here is me going for the cheap strat: hold onto that Holy Water you get at the start and use it to burn the bastard before he even has a chance to know what hit him

The last stage is short but fuck that part with the fliying birds that drop an endless supply of Flea Men! I used the Stop Watch here otherwise urgh

Fortunately you can die as many times as you want against the old Count, there’s a permanent checkpoint right at the stairway

The first phase of the fight is...honestly the best of the entire game, mainly because he actually has a goddamn pattern and feels like a genuine test of your reflexes and skills! No wonder pretty much every game afterwards will copy this fight one way or the other!

Unfortunately his second phase is...much less graceful. He jumps around the room and occasionally spits fireballs. The issue is that given his size, the room’s size and Simon’s slow speed it’s almost impossible to properly slip under him in order to not get cornered. His only weak spot is the head so you’d think the Crucifix would be the best weapon against him...but actually the Holy Water is the better option! It may not hurt him but it does stun him giving you plenty of time to wack at his head during his second form

Here’s a really fun fact for you: you see those undefined sprites his body explodes into after the first phase? According to a developer interview featured in the Castlevania Anniversary Collection booklet, Castlevania Book of the Crescent Moon, those are the pieces of Dracula’s Body that you’ll later have to collect in the next game! Yep they were already sowing the seeds for a sequel! that’s so cool!

What’s also very interesting is that, also according to this interview, the monster we face during the second phase isn’t technically Dracula but rather “the manifestation of mankind’s evil” (Unfortunately I can’t find any scans online to post here but if anyone can add them feel free to do so). This is very interesting because the idea of Dracula gaining strength from people’s collective evil will be repeated several times in the game and Aria of Sorrow will show us a literal manifestation of humanity’s evil. And these base concepts had already been established, albeit from behind the scenes, all the way since this dinky little mid 80s NES game!

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