#this is so familiar….where do I know this from???? is it Ella enchanted?

[thatshadowgastwhore]

Absolutely wild too accidentally recognize the tangled “if you kill him I will fight you every day, but if you let him live, I will do whatever you want” speech in a Timkon identity porn fic

#like do not cite the deep magic to me witch I was there when it was written #tim drake #timkon #truly an amazing fic #but I read that part and was like huh #this is so familiar….where do I know this from???? is it Ella enchanted? #I kept hearing it in Anne Hathaway’s voice for some reason #then it clicked #no that’s just tangled #certified one am post

[foreverindreamlandd]

Awake My Soul • 16

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

WC: 5k

Summary: It’s been 5 years since zombies first began their invasion, and despite everything you’ve been through, you’ve managed to survive up until this point. Now it’s time to face your most dangerous challenge yet….the grumpy, untrusting, fiercely protective Bucky Barnes.

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of nightmares, healing from trauma, mentions of injuries, liiiil bit of angst BUT MOSTLY FLUFF I SWEAR :)

A/N: Last chapter before the epilogue, folks. Please enjoy all the fluff in this one. Thank you a million times over for your patience. Will try to get the epilogue to you as soon as possible. <3

Series Masterlist

**There is a playlist for this fic, but linking it here messes up the tags so feel free to check it out in the series masterlist!

It was raining.

The soft pitter patter of water droplets as they landed on the roof of the watchtower created a steady, calming cadence for your ears.

Behind you, Morgan, AJ, and Cass squealed in delight as they ran around in the mud and rain with their new friends, Billy and Tommy, twin brothers. 

Once you had settled yourself back to camp, you requested to switch your watch shift to the day. Nights were still hard for you, and though you rarely slept through them anymore, it felt safer to be in the dorms where your family was just a few feet away rather than being outside  by yourself in the dark. 

The dark was still hard for you after all that time locked in that pitch black room with Hydra. 

The only argument Sam had was whether it was too soon for you to return to your regular duties, but you quickly waved him off. It was worse sitting around doing nothing, allowing intrusive thoughts and agonizing memories to enter your mind. You preferred getting your hands dirty as you picked the grown vegetables in the garden, or cleaning the weapons in your arsenal room.

And being here, on watch, where you could escape to whatever world existed between the pages of the book you were currently reading.

You stuck with comfort reads lately, first picking up Ella Enchanted to come back to something familiar, something grounding. Now, you were flipping through Along for the Ride by Sarah Dessen, a book you read at least five times during your days as a young, angsty teen.  

Resting the book on the ground beside you, you turned your gaze to watch the kids play, a  small smile on your lips. From the corner of your eye you saw the twin’s mom, Wanda, standing against one of the brick buildings. Her arms crossed in front of her, and she was laughing at the eruption of giggles coming from her boys.

Lord knows how long it had been since they had laughed like that.

The Maximoffs were one of the dozens of prisoners held at the Hydra camp. Shield had helped as many as they could escape, guiding them through the woods and providing any resources they could as you began your trek home. 

Many of the prisoners broke away a few days after the rescue, itching to go find any remaining members of their previous group.

Wanda’s husband Vision approached to join her in watching them play, wrapping an arm around his wife and kissing the crown of her head as she leaned into him.

From what you learned from the Maximoffs, Wanda had been separated from Vision and the twins for months after being captured by Hydra. Up until a few weeks ago when Shield blew the underground prison to the ground, she had nearly driven herself mad thinking they were all dead.

For the entire journey back to camp, she did not let her boys stray more than five feet from her, and you could see the distress in her eyes whenever she wasn’t holding their hands or holding them in her arms.

Turning your focus back to the outskirts of camp, you extended your arm out, letting the rain splash into the palm of your hand.

It had been so long since you were able to enjoy rain like this. To let its natural tempo steady your heartbeat, for the heightened smell of the trees around you settle your mind, to focus on the feeling of its cool droplets against your skin.

You closed your eyes, letting this small comfort bring ease to your senses. 

A soft whistle sounded off behind you, and your heart fluttered in response. Seconds later, strong arms wrapped you from behind, and gentle lips were pressing lightly on a faded bite mark on your neck.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he whispered, chin resting on your shoulder.

Your hand when on his arm, thumb running up and down the sleeve of his Henley. “Hi, Bucky.”

Bucky let out a small breath of relief at the sound of his name on your lips, pulling away just enough to take hold of your chin and slowly glide your gaze to him.

You stared into those stunning blue eyes, and all of the adoration shining within them as he gauged your reaction to saying his name. Looking for any sign of discomfort, his body relaxing more and more when he determined you were okay.

This was the new routine the two of you had established since beginning your journey of ripping yourself of Hydra’s hold. It took…a lot of patience and learning from you both, and had been far from easy.

When you first cleared your mind of its clouded, confused state after Bucky had been bitten by the runner, the two of you naively thought that you were totally free from the brainwashing that had been done to you. There were so many happy tears, lots of kissing, and lots of smiles as relief flooded through you.

That night, after the rest of Shield had reunited and built camp on the outskirts of the rubble with the rescued prisoners, you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, feeling like everything was going to be okay.

But apparently the nightmares still remained in the darkest depths of your mind, and you were back in the woods running from Bucky. When you woke to concerned eyes, you let out a blood-curdling scream, fighting and clawing your way free from the monster before you. 

Moments later, after a lot of heavy breathing and his calm, soothing voice, you registered where you were and who you were with, collapsing into his chest as sobs overtook you, your brain trying to put itself back together again.

It was one of the worst moments of your life, witnessing the pain in his eyes, the fear that a part of you would always be afraid of him. 

It didn’t end there. Sometimes he would walk up to you too quietly and you would whip around pressing a dagger to his neck. Whenever you said his name, the pain of the collar that was no longer around your neck resurfaced so aggressively that you would keel over in agony.

And though each of these moments devastated Bucky, he was determined to stay by your side and help you through each trigger, determined to help you fight the demons that still lingered in your mind.

You were both determined to make sure that wouldn’t happen. Which was what prompted “The System.” 

Him whistling whenever he was approaching from behind to make you aware of his presence, you saying his name over and over and over again to chip away the pain it caused in your neck from the phantom collar.

Sleeping in separate spaces. That had been the hardest, going to bed desperately wishing to have your greatest protector and friend but having to force yourselves to be apart so that you wouldn’t wake up thinking he was trying to kill you.

Baby steps. It was what you had told yourself during those early days of knowing Bucky, when you were trying to get him to not hate your guts. It had worked then, and you hoped it would work now.

And of course it did, because everything involving you and Bucky would always work out. It had to.

It happened when you were walking the halls of the dorms late one night, returning to your room from the bathroom. When you passed Bucky’s door, you heard sounds of distress.

At first, you wondered if it was in your head, but then you heard the faint cry of Bucky calling for help, and you were by his side in an instant.

You touched his arm. “Bucky?” There was a slight sting in your neck but you fought back a wince.

His eyes were closed, face scrunched in agony. “Help. Help.”

“What’s wrong?” you asked, hand going to his sweat-covered forehead.

“Can’t…can’t…”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t find her.”

Your brows furrowed. “Can’t find who?”

Tears fell from his closed eyes. “Y/n. She’s gone,” he whimpered. “I can’t find her. I need her.”

It broke your heart to hear the pain in his voice, the despair, and without a second thought you crawled into bed, holding him tightly in your arms as he clung to you.

“It’s okay, Bucky,” you whispered, kissing his forehead. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

Your comforting words made him release a long, heavy sigh, and his hands squeezed around your waist in desperation.

His breathing remained ragged for a little while longer, but eventually, with you whispering comforting words, he relaxed.

You tried to stay awake all night, dreading the idea of you falling asleep while he was in such turmoil and waking up in a state of terror being near him, not wanting to be the cause of more heartache for him.

But the nightmares that had incessantly haunted your dreams had made your nights restless, and you were completely exhausted. So eventually, as your eyelids grew heavier and heavier, you dozed off into a deep slumber.

This time, instead of running through the woods, you were standing in the clearing he had once taken you to. You watched a handful of wild horses - one of them a stunning blue-gray color - galloping along the lush field, the warm sunlight of golden hour on your face, sky aglow in various shades of pink, orange, and purple.

It was so…peaceful.

You felt something brush along your neck, and instead of panic, you felt warmth course through you.

Bucky pulled his lips away as you turned to him, his eyes shining in the bright sunlight. He was so beautiful, so happy as he looked at you.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his and resting your head on his shoulder, the two of you staring out into the clearing, no thoughts of danger or fear in your mind whatsoever.

Only love.

When you woke up that morning, the smile was still on your face.

It dropped when you noticed Bucky was no longer in bed with you, but sitting on the floor, back resting against the bed.

He turned to look at you, a shameful look in his eyes like a sad puppy.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

You propped yourself up on your elbow. “Sorry for what?”

His lips curved up in a joyless smile. “Somehow forcing you in here. And then for being selfish and not leaving before you woke up.”

You sighed, shaking your head. “Bucky.” You shuffled over to create a space in the bed, patting the sheets. “Get your ass back in here.”

He narrowed his eyes, skeptical, but when he opened his mouth to argue, you scowled, and he thought better than to go against your wishes.

Slowly, and hesitantly, he got up from the floor and crawled back into bed, his muscles relaxing as he wrapped his arm around you.

Your head rested on his chest, and you listened to his heartbeat slow down.

“You were calling for help in your sleep,” you whispered after a few minutes, and his muscles tensed back up.

“Really,” he replied, hand moving over your head, massaging your scalp. 

You nodded. “You couldn’t find me.”

Silence.

“Do you have that dream often?” you asked.

More silence. And then…

“Every night since you left.”

Your heart split at the sadness in his voice and you lifted yourself up to look at him, hand cupping his cheek. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you.”

Bucky let out a small, bitter laugh, rolling his eyes. “I should be saying that to you, Sweetheart.”

“Are you kidding? You saved me from the dark and brought me back to life, Buck, in every way that it mattered. You have been so kind, and patient, and loving. You never gave up on finding me, and you still haven’t given up on me even though I’ve been a fucking wreck. Through all the shit I’ve put you through, you never gave up on me.”

Tears welled in Bucky’s eyes as he wiped away the one sliding down your cheek.

“And I never will. I’ll never give up, I’ll never stop waiting, I’ll never stop fighting for you.” 

His hand moved to gently cup the back of your head as he pulled you closer for a slow, tender kiss. 

The two of you stayed in bed the rest of the day - with the exception of Bucky running to the kitchen to grab food for the both of you after his stomach grumbled for an entire minute. You stayed there, wrapped up in each other, drifting between silence and talking about anything and everything. 

Things hadn’t been this easy between you two in such a long time, that you had almost forgotten how much you had been craving it.

Enough time passed that you could barely register it passing anymore, your lids growing heavy as Bucky hummed a soft tune you both loved, the rumbling in his chest lulling you to sleep. 

You weren’t sure how long you had drifted off for before he gently nudged you awake, and the room was pitch black.

“We should get you to bed,” he whispered, kissing your temple before starting to slide out of his bed to escort you to your room.

A soft groan escaped and you shook your head, hands gripping around his t-shirt.

“I wanna stay,” you mumbled, eyes slowly closing.

Even in the dark, you could sense the skepticism in his eyes, and though he did not pull away from your hold, his body remained tense.

“I don’t want to risk it, Sweetheart. What if we just got lucky this morning?”

“Bucky, please let me stay,” you quietly begged. “I’m okay. I promise.”

The earnestness in your voice was what finally got him to relax, his body melding back against yours.

“If you start feeling overwhelmed or afraid even for a second, just let me know. Okay?”

You nodded, pulling him closer to you until your cheek rested against his chest once more, already drifting back to sleep. “I will.”

The last thing you felt before returning to your slumber were his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

And then…

You were back in the field, with gentle arms wrapped around you, staring at the most beautiful smile you had ever seen.

You felt loved. Happy.

Safe.

When you awoke hours later - the soft rays of sunlight warming your eyelids - you opened your eyes to a still sleeping Bucky. He must have tried to stay awake all night to make sure you were comfortable, exhausting himself. 

There was a small part of your mind that was just as nervous about waking up with him after these past few weeks. What if you weren’t ready for this moment? What if the triggers were hidden somewhere in your brain, about to go off any second as you looked at him?

You waited for said trigger to turn on as you continued to stare at Bucky, praying that he would remain the man you loved, not feared.

Seconds passed, turning into minutes, and your mind stayed in a state of adoration as you admired the peaceful expression on his face as he slept.

As if sensing your intense gaze, Bucky began to stir, body shifting, arm snaking its way around your waist-

He froze, realizing he wasn’t alone as his eyes shot open, looking over at you, hesitation painted across his face. 

“Morning, Beefcake,” you said, trying to make your voice as comforting as possible.

He licked his lips, eyes scanning yours. “Morning, Sweetheart. How…how are you feeling?”

You responded by crushing your lips to his, hand gripping the back of his neck for support. Bucky let out a moan of relief, pulling you flush against him.

The two of you never slept apart from each other again.

“You’re late for watch, you know,” you chided as Bucky settled himself by your side, gaze following yours to look at the rain. 

He rolled his eyes, fingers sneaking down to tickle your waist and you squealed. 

“I’m never late, Sweetheart, you’re just always annoyingly early.”

You gave him your best mischievous grin. “I know, it’s just that I love busting your balls, Beefcake.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” he grumbled, smile still on his face.

You scrunched your nose at him before leaning forward for a kiss. When you pulled back, your eyes went to the bite mark on his neck and you grimaced. “How’d it go?”

Bucky shrugged, fingers grazing over the newly-formed scar that matched yours. “Same as always. Banner says that my blood is showing up as normal. I’ve officially been given the clean, zombie-free bill of health.”

Your shoulders sagged in relief. “Good,” was all you could think to say.

Bucky pulled you closer to him and kissed your brow. “Can’t get rid of me that easily, baby.”

You smacked his metal arm with a scoff. “As if I’d ever want to be rid of you.”

“You better not!” he laughed. “Cause I don’t plan on ever leaving your side.”

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach and you looked up to meet that beautiful cerulean gaze. “Promise?”

He kissed the bridge of your nose. “Promise.”

Your romantic moment was cut off by a sudden squeal, and you both jerked your heads over to the camp in alarm, only to find that Morgan had thrown a handful of mud at Billy and was now running for her life as he chased her, preparing to strike back.

The two of you chuckled at the chaos before you. “Good to see they’re settling in nicely,” Bucky remarked.

“Who knows the last time they were able to have fun and be so carefree.”

Bucky nodded. “Been a while since we had any newcomers, especially kids. It’s nice.”

“Do you think they’ll stick around?”

He shrugged. “You never know. At the end of the day it’s up to them and what they think is best for their family. But I can’t imagine them saying no to a semi-safe place where they can heal together.”

“This is the best place for that. Healing, that is,” you added with a wink, and Bucky smiled, squeezing you a little more tightly to him.

A few beats of silence passed as you continued watching the kids play below.

“Banner mentioned he wants to talk with us,” he said.

Your brows furrowed. “Did he say why?”

He shook his head. “Not really. He says he has an idea he wants to run by us. Some long-term project or whatever. I was thinking we could go tonight, after dinner?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Actually,maybe we can talk to him tomorrow morning? You and I…we already have plans for tonight.”

Bucky’s lips turned downward in an intrigued expression. “Oh really?”

Heat rose to your face, knots growing in your stomach. “Well, I was kind of low-key planning to ask this super hot, grumpy pants with a heart of gold out on a date.”

His cheeks flushed a bright pink, but tried to keep his expression casual. “I sure hope you’re talking about me, Sweetheart.”

“What, is Yelena not available tonight?”

A loud, dramatic scoff escaped Bucky as you fell into a fit of giggles, and he tackled you to the ground playfully, peppering your face with a multitude of kisses, pinning you down.

“Alright, alright, fine!” you squealed. “I’ll take you on the damn date, Beefcake!”

He pulled back at the peace offering, face smug. “Pick me up at seven?”

You winked. “Wear that skimpy black dress you know I like.”

“Do you think I’ll get a kiss at the end of the night?” His lips lowered to hover over yours.

“Only if you behave,” you replied, suddenly breathless

He let out a low chuckle, the rumbling in his chest vibrating against yours. “Damn,” he murmured, “I know I can’t keep that promise around you.”

“Bummer,” you whispered, lifting your head just enough for your lips to finally meet.

“So anyways, I’m running through the woods as these giant dinosaurs in clown outfits chase after me. I finally managed to climb up a tree, but who’s at the top? Fucking Dum Dum with his giant bowl of soup smiling at me. And then I woke up.”

Yelena took a bite of green beans as you and Kate stared at her, eyes narrowed.

“Have you been sneaking sweets before bed, babe?” Kate asked.

The blond shook her head. “No.”

You crossed your arms and leaned them on the table. “Do you always have dreams like this, Lena?” 

Her lips turned downward as she considered the question. “The clown dinosaurs show up from time to time. But the Dum Dum thing is new….” she turned around and looked at Dum Dum, who caught her gaze, giving her his classic cheery smile and wave. She turned back around with a grimace, “...and slightly more unsettling.”

“Dum Dum is literally the nicest person in this entire camp,” Bucky remarked with a mouthful of bread. “And we literally just fought an entire evil empire and their hoard of flesh-eating zombies. How the hell can he be more unsettling than that?”

“Too much joy,” Yelena said, with what looked to be almost genuine fear in her eyes. “How can one person be so cheerful? In Russia, everyone was mad. Anger is what comforts me.”

“Don’t worry, Lena, if Dum Dum ends up smiling at you to death, I’ll make him pay,” Kate said, resting a reassuring hand on her girlfriend’s leg and kissing her cheek.

“Why does Yelena look like she’s just been to hell and back?” Druig asked, walking up to the table and resting his food tray down to join the group. Before sitting down, he slid the chair next to his back as Makkari - one of the new additions to camp after Hydra’s downfall - took the seat, her smile growing as she looked at Druig. She moved her hand from her chin out in front of her to sign  thank you.

The right corner of his mouth twitched as he mirrored her gesture. 

What had struck you most about Makkari upon meeting her was that – though she was barely able to stand from all of the injuries she sustained the day of the explosion – she was always there to lend a helping hand to someone who needed it, even if that meant holding someone else up for miles when she could barely do it for herself.

The other thing you noticed immediately was the way Druig’s eyes always found their way to her. She could be dozens of feet away and yet he always knew exactly where she was. And every time they locked eyes, she would lift her chin up at him with a smile, and the corners of his mouth would turn up ever so slightly as he lifted his own chin up.

“She’s scared of Dum Dum,” you replied, giving your blond best friend a quick wink as she glared at you. 

“Am not,” she grumbled, and Kate wrapped her arm around her in support, biting back a smile.

“Not what?” Sersi asked as she approached, taking the seat next to you and bumping her arm against yours in hello.

“Afraid of Dum Dum,” Druig responded, and Yelena growled as the rest of the group burst into a fit of laughter.

“Sounds like you lot are having fun over there!” Dum Dum called out. “What’s got the gang in such a fit of giggles?”

“It’s cause she’s afraid of y-” Bucky shouted.

“NOTHING’S HAPPENING OKAY LET’S JUST LET IT GO,” Yelena yelled over Bucky, but there was now a smile forming on her face as she began to see the ridiculousness of the conversation, and you felt tears streaming down your eyes from laughing so hard. 

You looked around the table, at the people who meant the most to you all smiling and laughing, as if you hadn’t survived the worst moments of your life, as if your lives weren’t at risk every second of every day.

These were the people who fought for you even when you thought you weren’t worth fighting for, who risked their lives to bring you our of captivity and back home with them. 

And you knew that they’d do it all again in a heartbeat if needed, just as you would for them.

It would be naive for you not to think that there would be even worse moments ahead, that terrible things were bound to happen, that there would be days when you couldn’t remember the last time you laughed.

Those moments would still come, but as long as you could also have these moments, you knew that you could survive anything.

“Alright, Sweetheart,” Bucky said as you led him out of the cafeteria to the location of your date. “Can I get any sort of hint as to where you’re taking me?”

You grabbed his hand. “Not a chance, but I’m sure you’ll get the idea the closer we get to our destination.”

He let out a huff in response and you glared up at him. “So dramatic, Beefcake. We’ll be there soon, so don’t get your pants all up in a tizzy.”

Another grumble, but his lips quirked up and you felt his thumb move along your knuckles.

Though you were joking, there was a bundle of nerves wreaking havoc in your stomach as you headed to the building with the science lab and library, leading Bucky to the semi-hidden  door tucked in the back.

You stopped at the door, looking up at his confused expression.

“Months ago, you pulled off the most romantic gesture I could have ever asked for, and I completely ruined it, then put you through absolute hell for a really, really long time.” Tears pricked your eyes and you looked down at the ground in shame thinking back to the night you left. “I know that at the time, I thought what I was doing was the right thing, but I don’t know if I’ll ever forgive myself for putting you through all that pain.”

“Sweetheart-” he began to say, and you looked back up to meet his watery eyes, shaking your head to cut him off as your hand went to the knob, slowly turning it and pushing open the door to reveal a familiar display.

Amber lights creating a soft glow throughout the room, a couch in the middle, a projector behind it, with a DVD case of a movie based on a book that brought you two together so long ago.

Though you had a feeling Bucky had known what was coming, you still felt a small flutter in your chest when his breath hitched.

“I wanted to give that night back to you, rewrite it so that we got the moment we deserved to share. One where two people go on a date and be all romantic and shit and one person doesn’t drug their partner and run away into the night.”

Bucky breathed out a small laugh, a tear running down his cheek.

You moved to wipe it away.

“You mean…everything to me, Bucky Barnes. You’re the most important person in my life, the one who owns my soul. If I could give you the world I would, if you’d let me. For now, I can only give you a Twilight movie date, and I hope that that’s enough-”

Unable to control himself any longer, Bucky jumped forward, wrapping his arms around the small of your back and pulling you close until your lips collided together, lifting you up in the air. 

You clung to him for support as your head grew dizzy from the taste of him, just as it always did. You weren’t sure if you’d ever get over the feeling of kissing Bucky, how his lips both kept you grounded and made you feel you were flying at the same time. The hunger you felt, never satisfied when the kiss finally came to an end due to you both being lightheaded from the lack of air. 

When that moment happened now, and he pulled away, there was a brightness in his eyes as he stared into yours, and you knew what he was going to say before the words left his lips.

“I love you, Y/n.”

It was the first time he had said it since that night in the woods, when they were spoken with desperation and grief, a moment where both of you thought it would be the end.

Now, as he said it, it felt like a true beginning.

“And I love you, Bucky,” you said in return. It felt so good to finally say that you said it again against his lips as he pulled you closer. 

After 15 or so more I love you’s from both of you, Bucky reluctantly lowered you to the ground and the two of you made your way to the couch.

“I promise I’m not going to drug the wine this time,” you said as you handed him a glass. “Gotta make sure you enjoy the hell out of this vampire romance.”

“You’re too good to me, Sweetheart,” he responded, taking a sip without hesitation as a sign of complete trust toward you, and you almost started crying again at the gesture.

After puttering around getting everything situated, you crawled into Bucky’s arms, head resting within the crook of his shoulder.

“Hey,” Bucky said, and you raised your head to look at him. “I love you.”

You smiled. “God, Beefcake, you’re such a sap.” He let out a low, rumbly chuckle, rolling his eyes.”Hey,” you said, and his gaze went back to you. “I love you, too.”

He leaned forward for another kiss before you grabbed the projector remote, pressing play.

Then, for the first time ever, in the middle of a zombie apocalypse…

You and Bucky Barnes went on a date.

Epilogue

#Bucky x reader #Bucky x you #Bucky x y/n #Bucky barnes x reader #Bucky barnes x you #Bucky barnes x y/n #Bucky barnes #Bucky fanfic #Bucky barnes imagine #awake my soul #zombie apocalypse #zombie apocolypse au

[teecupangel]

time for another "are you familiar with":

Are you familiar with Ella Enchanted? because the idea just popped in my head of, William Miles, in his goal to make his son a better weapon, does something foolish. The assassins don't have any POE, not after the Purge, but they know about them, have studied the technology and made notes when they've had them in their possession.

William tries to create a POE, or at least, emulate the effects of one.

He doesn't start with human trials. He's not that wasteful. But the Apple in particular is *meant* to be used on humans, so it was always going to get there, eventually.

And maybe it was selfish of him. He can see how skilled his son is, silent, observant, a quick learner. He knows, *knows* that given time, Desmond can be the best of them. Can you blame a father for wanting his son to be even better than that?

But things go wrong, spectacularly so. The lab is a ruin; he'll have to start over from scratch, if he even chooses to.

Desmond isn't seriously hurt, thank goodness. He feels guilty, promises himself he'll put more safeguards in place, next time.

Only. Something about Desmond has changed. The boy, always eager to please, becomes even more so. William's barely issued an order before Desmond is seeing to it, at most a grimace of complaint.

Bill's experiment worked, in a way. The power of the Apple, replicated with human technology. Just, not in the way he intended.

It takes longer than it should, to realize something is wrong. To realize *what* is wrong.

When Desmond, eyes downcast, says, "I think there's something wrong with me," Bill thinks he's trying to avoid training. And sure enough, when he tells Desmond to get to it without any more complaining, Desmond does. But a few days later, nervously flexing his fingers and looking up at his father, something defiant in the expression, he says, as though trying to convince himself, "I'm not complaining. I'm just making a statement. I think something is wrong with me."

William raises his brow. "And what do you want done about it?" The boy needs to learn to say what he means. If he thinks he needs to see a doctor, he should say so. There won't be room in the field for imprecision.

To his surprise, tears well in Desmond's eyes, mouth twisting into a pout.

"Crying wont get you anywhere," he says. "Say what you mean."

"If I don't do whatever you say, I get hurt," Desmond blurts, all in a rush. His tears brim over and start rolling down his cheeks as he points in the center of his chest, "A hurt starts here, and it gets w-worse and worse, until it's l-l-like I c-can't breathe--"

"Stop crying," Bill snaps, and Desmond head snaps back like he's been punched. "You're not a baby, there's no need to talk like one."

The tears keep coming, Desmond brushing them away with a clenched fist, but he's not saying anything more, looking up at Bill with pleading, desperate eyes. A little whimper escapes him, and a wince as he clutches at his chest, where hed already been pointing, and it snaps together in a second, Bill going grey as a possibility blooms in his mind.

He doesn't counter his order right away. He waits a second. Two. Five. Ten. Thirty.

(He tells himself he was still putting it together. It was an outlandish proposal, and it took him time to understand. Somewhere, in the place he shovels his guilt into a compost pile from which arrogance grows, he knows that he waited on purpose. Just to see.)

Desmond falls to his knees, writhing, making noises of pain but no words, wheezing and crying, snot dripping from his nose, and something in Bill snaps, a switch flipping from fascination to horror and he reaches out for his son, pulling him into his arms, "It's alright, you're alright, breathe, breathe Desmond, you can cry, you can do whatever you need to do, just breathe."

It is the start of a whole new kind of training.

He finds the parameters of his son's new limitations. What triggers the response, exactly. If it can be avoided. How long Desmond can resist it, and what the consequences of doing so are. How to mitigate the effects of disobedience, to delay pain for when it can be managed. What happens when conflicting orders are given. If there are limits to what Desmond has to obey.

And he orders Desmond, in the strictest possible terms, to never, *ever* tell *anyone* about his weakness, lest they take advantage of it.

Because Desmond will still be an Assassin. Bill had his doubts, at first. But though it's a serious flaw, it can be managed. And in exchange, Desmond is well on his way to being everything William thought he would be. With his condition leaving no room to hold back, no room to doubt, only pushing and pushing and pushing himself to the milestones William *knows* he can reach, Desmond will be the best of them.

(and then Desmond runs away at 16 because literally *having* to follow every order your father gives you is a fucking nightmare, and spends 9 years unable to tell anyone the most important truth about himself *and* trying to avoid anyone figuring it out *and* avoiding running into any assassins because all they'd have to do to bring him home is tell him to go, and his dad won't let him get away a second time.)

I watched it… like… yeaaarrsss ago. I never read the book though XD.

Okay, so in this setup, Desmond’s ‘curse’ comes from the failed experiment to create a POE.

Not gonna lie, this sounds like it could have Evangelion-proportion of holy shit if we tip it to the other side of ‘William Miles recreating POE using Desmond’ but let’s focus on the idea that Desmond must do whatever is ordered of him.

So, in this setup, we need to get the limitation of Desmond’s curse: He feels pain when he disobeys this curse and his chest starts to hurt until he can’t breathe anymore.

What happens when he loses consciousness? Does the curse stop or will it continue to torment him until he dies?

If we go for the first ‘outcome’, this means Desmond could find a loophole by simply waiting until he faints. If it’s the latter then we can have our angst where Desmond contemplates if an order he does not like will be the final and only order that he will ever say no to.

Of course, we do have the ‘Desmond could order himself to no longer obey any orders’ to fall back into and we have an actual reason as to why Desmond never thought of ordering himself.

By the time he had left the Farm, he would have been so frightened by the power this ‘curse’ had on him that the idea that orders he gives himself might be something he had never done.

“I can do this” is a phrase normally uttered but not for Desmond. His own father had erased that phrase in his mind and all he knows is “You must do this”.

So, for him, he would never have thought of ordering himself even by accident and he would definitely try to keep to himself.

Maybe instead of being a bartender, Desmond lives a more isolated life.

He used the training he received (a training that was more painful than it should have been) and lived his life like a ghost, stealing what he needs when he knows no one would be there. A fear that had been ingrained in him when a security guard once tried to catch him by saying “stop!” and his body refused to move until the guard ordered something else.

Another possible solution is a character of your choice who is in love with Desmond ordering Desmond to “only listen to my orders!”. It’s a questionable solution but it will definitely be one that gives us the possibility of a… ‘hotter’ interpretation of his curse. XD

Although…

Soooooo…

You wanna read about an idea that’s quite screwed up and angsty?

Of course you do.

What if…

Desmond’s curse is auditory-only and Desmond realized it when Bill gave him an order via a small note? Any orders given to him that he didn’t hear didn’t count and Bill never realized it because Desmond still did as the note instructed.

But Desmond knew…

He knew that he found a loophole.

Now, his upbringing was fucked up but he never thought of harming himself. He has the self-preservation of a moth close to a flame, sure, but deliberately endangering himself had never crossed his mind.

That’s the reason why he chose to run away.

Because he wants to live.

But then he sees how dangerous it was for someone like him to be around people so he…

Drowns the sounds out.

Using every money he has, he buys the best headphones he could and just keeps listening to music.

He didn’t want to risk the possibility that lyrics could be used to command him so he only listens to music with no vocals, the louder the better.

Until he irreparably damages his ears. But he keeps going, keeps listening…

Because he didn’t realize that he was damaging his ears.

He just thought the headphones were damaged and that’s why his hearing wasn’t as good as before.

So he listened with higher and higher volumes, even tweaking his headphones so they would blast out music louder than they should be capable of.

Until…

Desmond could only hear the silence.

And that’s when he realized…

He was free from his curse.

Tears fell from his eyes and he could not hear the sobs that left his lips.

Were they happy tears?

They were supposed to be happy tears.

So why… why does his chest hurt so much?

#this is angst-y than the last one #which i know you’d appreciate #hahahaha #this does raise the question #if desmond is in the animus #are the orders meant for his ancestors #activate his curse? #ask and answer #assassin's creed #desmond miles #teecup writes/has a plot

[majormeilani]

Drops your door holding wormy and the horror film person holds yhrm like a wanted poster and grabs you puts you under investigation

> 12 , 15 , 23 , 9 , 7 go.

*cracks knuckles* this might get a lil lengthy but. let's GOOO-

for wormie:

12. where does your character's name come from?

if we're talking in her story, her name came from snatcher. when she defrosted from her containment in ice from the kingdom's freeze over, snatcher noticed that she had a glowstick hung around her neck and it was able to glow again. (which is something that can actually happen if you freeze one irl!!!!) so at first, he named her "glow" because she couldn't recall her name when he asked for it. she also had an affinity a worm on a string toy he found and started calling her "glow worm" most times she goes by wormie. snatcher also often gives her glowsticks too to keep her happy.

as far as why I personally chose that name for her, i can't recall the specific reason i ultimately chose that name aside from it aligning with aspects of her design. since she has a very glowy aesthetic and her hair was meant to look like worms on a string. also bc i wanted it to fit her personality, given she's like a scene kid in a way lol.

her name before her death was "ella" because it's meant to somewhat reference the name cinderella, which snatcher calls her once when a party outfit she has gets destroyed.

15. what are your character's opinions on Mustache Girl and/or her motives?

wormie would probably want to be mu's friend but if she labelled her as a bad guy for hurting her friend's feelings on accident, she might think of her as a meanie. but i think wormie would also somewhat understand mu's motives or feelings of being lonely. but once mu starts taking over the planet wormie might think of her as a "big meanie!!" for trapping people she regards as friends.........

23. how does your oc feel about the nyakuza?

wormie would probably be so excited to see them and be like "OH EM GEE!! KITTIES!!!" and she would float around the metro after them and maybe try to pet or play with them. she'd also probably love the metro for its glow and neon-ness.

9. does your oc know any of the main cast?

she is very familiar with the residents of subcon, namely snatcher since she's considered one of his minions/dwellers. when it comes to the rest of the planet, she knows a few who have wandered into the forest but she always tries to make friends everywhere that she goes.

7. how would you character feel in alpine?

wormie would probably be enchanted with the colors and sights of alpine. she would pet the goats and play games with the nomads. i have always thought of wormie visiting the twilight bell and feeling rather......... at home... there.

for cassidy:

12. where does your character's name come from?

for cassidy's name i can't remember why i chose the name cassidy to represent him? i guess for some reason the name really stuck in my mind when i heard it and typically i name my characters the first thing that comes to mind. i also decided to give him a name-name rather than following the vague naming convention most in-game characters do. if he didn't have an actual name, he'd probably be named "the hotelier," which is what you call someone who runs a hotel, which he does.

the name he has in-storywise with his character, the name he goes by is actually his last name, which he prefers over his first name. his first name is actually "paris" but he isn't as fond of it and in a sense is trying to reclaim the name he was given by his parents, since their surname is the name of the hotel anyway. the name paris comes from mice and i joking about this song called "paris & nicole" fitting the duo's vibes. (the duo being her ahit oc nicole and cassidy)

15. what are your character's opinions on Mustache Girl and/or her motives?

cassidy doesn't really consider mu to be all that much of a threat at first and kinda gets where she's coming from. but once he's accused of being a bad guy he kinda grows a grudge against her. he likes to portray himself to be perfect and wonderful and being recognized and perceived for his flaws can set him off, and for mu to see through that would anger him.

23. how does your oc feel about the nyakuza?

i think cassidy has met them once or twice when they've taken up residence in his hotel. i think he's also met with empress before and probably bought something from her jewelry store before.

9. does your oc know any of the main cast?

cassidy has met dj grooves and conductor for the first time on a red carpet meet up and at awards ceremonies. they are aware of one another but are a bit at odds for sharing a common goal. cassidy has also knows snatcher fairly "well," if breaking into his forest for movie related purposes often counts. cassidy is also familiar with many of the express owls, crows (caw agents and lil baby ones) and some of the moon penguins. he of course also has met hat kid and bow kid before as well.

everyone else he knows very vaguely, possibly even been customers at his hotels once before.

7. how would you character feel in alpine?

he probably loves alpine tbh. i do imagine he's probably been there many times before in the past and it's probably where he's met the crows and gained a lot of his employees from.

THANKSSS and thanks if you read all this PHEW.

#answered asks #anon #glow worm #wormie #cassidy the magpie #cassidy #ahit ocs #woah wormie and cassidy lore upon ye

[mixingpumpkins]

Have you read the sandman comics? I haven’t read them (graphic novels are not my favorite genre) or watched the show but have been considering doing both, and was wondering if you would recommend reading the books first? I’m the past, if I’ve read the book before the movie, I tend to be a bit more critical of it (don’t get me started on the Ella Enchanted movie) than if I watch the movie first, but by doing it that way I sometimes miss some nuance/importance/Easter eggs. What do you recommend?

Oh god, the Ella Enchanted movie. 🙃

I have read the comics! I just finished rereading them before watching the series, which was why I didn't binge it immediately on release day. That said:

Watch the series. (Run, don't walk. Seriously.)

Like, I'd encourage you to read the Sandman comics as well, but don't wait to do that to watch the series, especially if you don't really like graphic novels. Tbh, I wish I hadn't bothered finishing my reread before watching - because it was that good - and it's probably one of the only adaptations I've seen where I wouldn't be explaining nuances if I were watching it with someone who didn't know anything about the source material.

You won't miss anything, except maybe the occasional "oh hey, that shot is the same as the comic panel" or the more frequent "oh hey, that line is a direct quote from the comics." And those are just as easily enjoyed as "oh hey, those panels look almost the same as that scene," imo.

Maybe controversial opinion, but I enjoyed the show even more than the comics, and it's been one of my fave graphic novels for decades now. The series fleshes out things I wish had been explored a little more in the comics, and cuts the things (like some other DC character cameos) that I didn't particularly enjoy when I read them.

Every single "major" change so far, like John Constantine -> Johanna Constantine or Lucien -> Lucienne, or Dream's eyes looking human rather than solid black with stars, is an upgrade that works so well. The things in the comics that felt a bit "ick" to me in terms of story, subject matter handling, tone, being dated, etc. have been upgraded too.

I honestly can't remember seeing another adaptation where I didn't want to nitpick against the source material and I actually feel like every single change works better than it was originally written. And you certainly don't need to be familiar with the original version to appreciate how good these elements are.

The other thing I'll say is ... mind the warnings. It can get really dark, and going into it thinking it's another fun series like Good Omens just because it's by Neil Gaiman is a shortcut to a rude awakening. I cried. A lot.

And don't let the gory horror show that is Episode 5 turn you off the rest of it, especially since Episode 6 is up there for one of the most beautifully done episodes of TV I've ever seen.

Enjoy! God, I'm so jealous, I wish I could see it for the first time again.

#asks #also as much as i'm about that pirate life please go watch on netflix if you can #streaming numbers are super important and netflix is still weighing a season 2 #this show (and the story in general) is too good not to get more #the sandman

[morifinwes]

Lauraa I finished all the fics, apart from decay (currently reading that now) and I love it sm! Especially the lip gloss one lmao the whole thing was so hilarious to me XD but also like the concept of lwj wearing lipgloss is >>> -yibobibo

@yibobibo then i'm going to rec you some more!! the lip gloss one was !!!!! ajsksks yes!! lwj wearing lipgloss is just so!! good!!

modern

this one is the painful one i talked about:

visitations by var_abelasan (12K, wip, divorced wangxian, post divorce, most of this is angst, uhm lowkey don't but also do want wangxian to end up together, it's messy, the jiangs & lans are shitty, wwx was in prison (brief mentions of that but it's kind of a major plot point), mxy & xy are the little brothers he never wanted but wwx picked them up anyways)

"Wei Ying-" Lan Zhan says, stutters, "I'm sorry." 

And now Wei Wuxian sees it, the red rimming Lan Zhan's eyes, the rumpled edges of his blazer. There is an old, familiar urge for him to reach over, to hold Lan Zhan's hand and smooth his hair, to tell him that everything will be fine. 

"We're all a bit sorry about this, I think," he says instead, and finds that he means it. For Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji and everyone else in that Guanyin temple, the pain must be unbearably fresh, like skin just flayed open. But Wei Wuxian's chest had been cracked open a long time ago, his wounds licked and cauterized and sewn shut over five long years - Ever hurting, but a dull, constant ache, "It's really alright, Lan Zhan."

 

Five years after being accused of corporate espionage and losing everything, the Guanyin Scandal breaks open and Wei Wuxian finds a familiar face at his door.

please don't let me be misunderstood by sysrae (3K, partly deaf!wwx, lwj notices, nobody else does though, idk wwx is like made out of fucking steel or some shit)

Lan Wangji has known Wei Ying for a fortnight, the first time he sees him get hit by a car.

light by redkosmos (10K, blind!lwj, which causes angst, but they manage it, best friends to lovers, fluff, lwj being insecure and feeling like a burden, college au kind of? but it doesn't matter too much)

The realization slowly dawns on him.

He can never again see the brightness of Wei Ying's eyes, the way they crescent when he smiles, never again see the rich black of his hair, the mess of it in the early mornings, never again see the beautiful tan of his skin, the beauty of the scars and marks adorned on it, how he wears his clothes, how it hugs his frame beautifully, how he looks like he's adorably swimming in cloth when he wears Lan Zhan's, and-

(Lan Zhan loses his vision in a car accident and learns to cope with it.)

don't leave me by trippinonskies (19K, brief very brief mention of lwj cheating, he doesn't but wwx is afraid lwj is cheating on him or just wants to break up with him, (he doesn't), marriage proposal, lwj acting distant = wwx's insecurities show up, fluff, angst and comfort)

Lan Zhan! Where are you lost today?” Wei Wuxian finally asks, at the end of his patience.

Lan Zhan looks a little guilty as he looks at Wei Wuxian, “Sorry, just a lot of work to deal with.”

Lie.

If there is one thing Lan Zhan can’t do, it’s lying. Especially to Wei Wuxian. But he doesn’t question Lan Zhan. He just accepts the reply, too scared to know that he is right. Too scared to know the truth.

// or where Lan Zhan is too hung up in planning the perfect proposal and ends up accidently ignoring Wei Wuxian making the other think that he wants to break up //

want you closer by xiaobucephalus ((3K, HORSES, only in the background tho, but wwx is an equestrian vet, which is so fucking valid bro, the lans own horses, a sick bunny, lwj the bunny parent!, super cute, dark bay throughoutbred chenqing is honestly so valid)

“Thank you,” Lan Zhan said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Don’t thank me, Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying laughed again, his voice warming the chill of fear that had settled in his chest. “I’ve been looking for an excuse to get into your hutch for a while anyway.”

safe in your thoughts by anonymous (20K, it's a cherry magic au???? (i haven't watched it, but you have i think?), horny lwj but only for wwx (always for wwx))

Wei Wuxian learns three very important things on the night of his twenty-seventh birthday.

One, that Lan Wangji is ridiculously funny, which Wei Wuxian had known before but what Wei Wuxain hadn’t expected was Lan Wangji to be funny at his brother’s expense.

Two, that Wei Wuxian had finally gone mad, absolutely mental at the ripe age of twenty seven because nothing else would explain the third thing he had learnt.

Third, and the most unbelievable of the lot, that Lan Wangji wants to fuck him.

iura by yoo_im_finally_writing (1K, only added bcs op is right and wwx would've the cutest german accent, it's more fun if you understand german so hit me up if you want translations for the german sentences)

Wei Ying calls in the middle of the night to talk about German law, and Lan Zhan tries very hard not to fall asleep. Or at least, not to let Wei Ying notice he's falling asleep. (As best friends do.)

breathe in the air, the last of its kind by wereworm / @neverdoingmuch (27K, getting together, jealous!lwj, but also kind of supportive, brief mention of cheating bcs of miscommunication, no actual cheating tho, college au, lwj pov)

Following Wei Ying’s line of sight, Lan Wangji can barely prevent a smile from crossing his lips when he sees the short row of rabbit statuettes placed at the front of the display. Silver, with bright gems for eyes, they look elegant yet lively and animated.

“A-Yuan would love one of those,” Wei Ying murmurs, almost as if to himself.

Lan Wangji frowns; the rabbits, while cute, don’t seem like a suitable gift for Wei Ying’s A-Yuan.

...

It’s only when he glances back at the rabbits and notices what has been placed on display behind them, that the pieces fall into place. They’re engagement rings, there’s no doubt about it. Lan Wangji feels his heart sink – Wei Ying isn’t just dating A-Yuan, he wants to propose to him.

Or: the five times Lan Wangji thinks that A-Yuan is Wei Ying’s boyfriend and the one time he learns the truth.

paint smears on sunny days by snowshadowao3 / @angstsexual (53K, getting together, art teacher!wwx, single parent!lwj, they're rich if i remember right, wwx & lwj are both good with kids!!!, this is so good actually, fluff)

To say that he runs to his car would be incorrect, as he is a Lan, and running is both undignified and unnecessary unless in immediate danger. Nor does he slam his key into the ignition, or aggressively swerve around the cars on the freeway, or have a mild panic attack at the fact he is picking A-Yuan up late from school for the first time ever.

He comes close, though.

By the time he arrives, it’s 4:35PM, and he has imagined about fifty different worse-case scenarios. The door is partly open when he gets to it, a messy label of 104B—Art Room scrawled with chalk on a placard next to the faded wood. As he opens it fully, he expects to see a wailing, terrified child, or perhaps a scene of utter misery and betrayal.

What he finds is his son, hands covered in paint, being sung to by a beautiful, dark-haired stranger.

“Ducks live in the pond, yellow ducks, happy ducks!”

Lan Wangji stops in his tracks.

(Or: Falling in love with your son’s art teacher, in five parts)

no bunny compares by gusucloudbunny (4K, god this is cute, fluff)

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian cornered his friend one week before his birthday. “If you could have anything in the world, what would it be?”

Lan Wangji furrowed his brow at Wei Wuxian, not exactly sure how to answer that question in a truthful manner that didn’t involve confessing his undying love for his best friend.

Wei Wuxian is on a mission to get Lan Wangji the perfect gift for his birthday. What Wei Wuxian doesn't know is that the only thing Lan Wangji truly wants is him.

wei wuxian's week of realizing things by photojenny (12K, i have read this multiple times, i always forget what happens, idk why but my notes say it's good, the tags say drunkji makes an appearance and i'm always up for that)

"Lan Zhan, do you like Mianmian?" asked Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji blinked, and stared. It was not the first time Lan Wangji had questioned the perceptiveness of the boy he had a crush on. Wei Wuxian had been smart in the class they had taken together. Yet time and time again, Wei Wuxian had tested the old wisdom that there are no stupid questions.

---

Lan Wangji must figure out how to confess when Wei Wuxian is the most oblivious person he's ever met.

are you my wisdom tooth? because i'd like to take you out by yellowcarnations (1K, crack, fluff, lwj stop flirting with a stranger, even if he is your husband, drunkji but make it to max level)

Lan Zhan wakes up and he has no idea where he is.

There are bright lights and his jaw hurts, he doesn't who this man next to his bed is but oh he might be in love, maybe, probably, definitely.

–

based off that guy-forgets-who-his-wife-is-and-hits-on-her vid but its wangxian.

beep! goes his heart by wearing_tearing (3K, fluff, lwj is like "he, he likes me right? he likes me" and everyone is like "yes, yes he does")

“Wei Ying’s heart monitor,” Lan Wangji starts.

Wen Qing blinks at him. “Yes?”

“It beeps.”

“That’s… what they generally do, yes.”

“The beeps change,” Lan Wangji continues, “when others are around.”

*

Wei Ying’s heart only sings for Lan Wangji.

canon

obedient and bellicose by thunderwear (19K, lwj is cursed by the lan elders, they notice too late, fix-it fic kind of?, lqr being a good uncle and lxc is a good brother, wwx accidentally uses the curse but he doesn't know about it)

It took Lan Wangji a long time to realize he was cursed. Too long really, anyone else would have noticed so much sooner. The problem was, he liked following the rules.

Ella Enchanted AU that no one needed but I wanted.

hello my old heart, how have you been? by ravenditefairylights (10K, amnesia, fluff, wwx taking care of lwj, so much fluff and softness, angst too but not that much)

The issue is, Lan Wangji brings his thoughts back before they stray too far, that it is impossible for someone to be in his bed, unless Lan Wangji himself invited them. He has not. He would remember doing so, and besides, all his night clothes are still on and there is no headache to imply that he was inebriated last night. No, the situation is simple.

There is someone in Lan Wangji’s bed. It is impossible for anyone to be in Lan Wangji’s bed, and yet that doesn’t seem to have stopped the stranger.

or lan wangji wakes up, and wei ying is there. he doesn't understand how or why, and he can understand even less why his hallucination of wei ying is so insistent on bathing him, and braiding his hair, on holding him and fixing his clothes. why the hallucination of wei ying seems so happy to see him.

teach me the way by likeafox (58K, rogue cultivator!wwx, horny wangxian, lwj wants wwx to teach him how to be a good lover, ....wwx is a virgin, the porn is the plot, but there's less of it than i thought)

"I do not wish to leave my future spouse… dissatisfied with my intimate knowledge,” Lan Zhan says, very seriously. “I am hoping to find an instructor, to better prepare myself for such matters."

Wei Ying feels his mouth drop open. He's pretty sure the Second Jade of Lan just told him he's a virgin who wants to learn how to do sex good.

Rogue Cultivator Wei Wuxian is the stuff of local legends. Some of those legends are even true! The ones about his tremendous experience in bed, on the other hand, are not so true. Which becomes a problem when Lan Wangji, on the verge of an arranged marriage and worried he won’t know how to please his future spouse, enlists Wei Ying's help to teach him the art of love-making. Wei Ying's great at improvisation, though, and is pretty sure he's got this sex mentor thing under control. What could possibly go wrong

other aus

of god: my love unholy by tunnelodfawn (3K, tw blood / war, dark!lwj, god!wwx, kind of poetry)

Lan Zhan takes everything as a sign from his god. The blood staining his fingertips—a holy anointment. He sanctifies himself through blood. The strings of his guqin gleam red in the sun—a divine blessing. This is an instrument of destruction. A single note—a cry of power—and in this note the voice of his god unravels the earthly threads tethering man to earth.

The Yiling Patriarch blesses Lan Zhan with war. Wei Wuxian blesses Lan Zhan with agility. Wei Ying blesses Lan Zhan with love.

The base of the Yiling Patriarch’s shrine is the home of Lan Zhan’s knees. He worships. There is something of the blasphemous and the unholy in his prayers. He prays not for victory but for the sight of Wei Ying. Bless me with your presence, he begs.

Or, wherein, Lan Zhan bridges the gap between the mortal and the divine—the worshipper and the god—with blood.

the river and the sea by sasamelons / @sasamelons (7K, soulmate au, arranged marriage (wangxian with each other), they're both kind of dumb but i love it)

Lan Wangji gritted his teeth, wishing to just be left alone. "I am looking for my soulmate," he ground out.

"Oh."

It took Lan Wangji a few moments to realize that Wei Wuxian had stopped following him. When he looked back, the other boy seemed to be frozen to the spot, eyes wide and lips still parted. He quickly looked away when he saw Lan Wangji looking back. "I see. Well, have a good trip!"

--

At six years old, Lan Zhan met his soulmate on the streets of Yiling and promptly lost him again.

At sixteen years old, Lan Wangji met his betrothed and was determined not to like him.

#so...i realized i forgot to check the things i already listed but? i tried to avoid listing fics twice? #yes i've mostly been reading oneshots these past few weeks idk why but i can't seem to find any long fics #or at least not ones that i like #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #wangxian fics #mdzs #mdzs fic #cql fic #the untamed #aamna tag #we're almost through the rec list now? i have so much open but idk why i add so few #i'm just really picky when it comes to which ones to write down and which ones not #and then this became a kind of comfort list? #idk? #but also ANGST #not Angst but ANGST #fun fact: Angst means fear in german

[amy-issen]

ok so here it is!! i spent the last week solely making and listening to this playlist like i was POSSESED because this ship is lovely and deserved a nice playlist!  if anyone wants to know why i picked each song, i’m going to ramble about it extensively in the read more, so check that out if you want! hope you enjoy it! also thanks again to @birbwell​ for letting me use her art for the cover!

i divided this playlist in a few sections so let’s start with the first one (section one: first meeting/pining) i. in the rain - joe hisaishi i wanted to start with a short instrumental track to set the mood, and i looooove howl’s moving castle score, so i had to pick this one! the fact that it has rain in the title also helps to reference how their relationship began! ii. with every breath i take - frank sinatra “every breath that I take is a prayer that i’ll make you mine” my sister is a big sinatra/jazz fan (and also a yakuza fan) so she helped me with picking a few of the songs here! this one is very romantic, elegant and beautiful and i thought it fit the mood (and it’s what i think tachibana listens to in his free time lmao).

iii. gold rush - taylor swift “what must it be like to grow up that beautiful? with your hair falling into place like dominoes my mind turns your life into folklore i can't dare to dream about you anymore” this one is my FAVORITE song on this playlist, and one of the first i picked because this song just fits them like a glove. it’s basically pining 101, and i love that what taylor said this song is about “daydreaming about someone then snapping out of it.” i feel like the first part could be from tachibana’s perspective and the second one from kiryu’s (also giving a bit of a glimpse into the future, with the mention of a coastal town they’ll never find together) iv. first love/late spring - mitski “so please, hurry, leave me, i can't breathe please don't say you love me mune ga hachikire-sōde (my heart seems like it’s going to burst)” this one was another song i picked very early on because i love mitski, and i needed to include her here. i just wanted something to symbolize the trust that tachibana and kiryu have to share to work together, and the feelings that emerge from it, if that makes any sense. i don’t think this has a specific perspective, because i feel like this could work from both kiryu’s and tachibana’s (mostly kiryu though) v. real estate - adam melchor “every time I wonder how i'd carry on without you i'm runnin' out of real estate tryna make all the right moves i don't wanna hesitate i would bet the house on you “ do you UNDERSTAND how satisfying it was to find a song named real estate for them?? come ooon. ok that’s not all of my reasoning for it but it’s like. most of it, lmao another song i felt was about trust and feelings. (also a bit of a glimpse into the future, because i’m sad) vi. i get a kick out of you - ella fitzgerald “i get no kick from champagne mere alcohol doesn't thrill me at all so tell me why should it be true that i get a kick out of you?” another one my sister recommended. i originally was gonna go with sinatra’s version of this, but i love this one and it just wouldn’t leave my brain. again, one from mostly tachibana’s perspective, get this man to sing this on karaoke night right now. vii. like real people do - hozier  “i will not ask you where you came from i would not ask and neither would you honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips we could just kiss like real people do” this is one of my all time favorites from hozier and, again, it just fit perfectly. tachibana and kiryu have both lived some very... troubled lives so far, and while they’re depending on this trust they have in eachother, none of them really care to know about what they’ve done or who they are. this is mostly from kiryu’s perspective, specially with this metaphor of being rescued/dug up from the earth with the whole being found in the rain and saved by tachibana and his poor driving skills. viii. delicate - taylor swift “this ain't for the best my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me... we can't make any promises now, can we, babe? but you can make me a drink” y’all are going to have to forgive me for picking TWO taylor swift songs but COME OOOON this is another one that i picked early on because i could draw so many parallels between the lyrics and things that they both said in that car scene on chapter 9 (mostly tachibana though) and i kept harassing my sister with screenshots to prove my point and i’m gonna do it again

ANYWAYS i’ve made my case, and now we enter the second section of the playlist at last ( section 2: actual romantic/fluffy songs because this is a ship playlist) i. good old-fashioned lover boy - queen “dining at the ritz we'll meet at nine (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 o'clock) precisely i will pay the bill, you taste the wine driving back in style in my saloon will do quite nicely just take me back to yours that will be fine” is this a bit of a cliché? yes. did i want to include it because it’s very cute and i’d like to imagine kiryu and tachibana having a nice date night with no people trying to kill them all the time? also yes. i love this song.

ii. stay with me/mayonaka no door - miki matsuraba “you in your gray jacket with that oh-so-familiar coffee stain just as you always are the two of us reflect in the window display stay with me knocking on midnight's door i beg you not to go home tonight” (translated lyrics) is anyone not obsessed with this song lately? this is the only song here i’m blaming tiktok for making me listen to it lol. in any way, this song is deceptive because it sounds really happy but is actually quite melancholic. i thought it fit their relationship well, and it seemed like a good addition to the playlist with it’s 80′s city pop vibes.

iii. on melancholy hill - gorillaz (covered by matt forbes) “just looking out on the day of another dream where you can't get what you want, but you can get me so let's set out to sea, love 'cause you are my medicine when you're close to me" this is a gorillaz song but i went with this cover because it fit the feeling of the playlist a little better. another song that i just love very deeply and i thought fit the sentiment of kiryu being like “hey i know we have Big problems and you’re very sad in the moment but i’m here for you” iv. (i love you) for sentimental reasons - nat king cole "i think of you every morning dream of you every night darling, i'm never lonely whenever you are in sight" surprisingly, not one that my sister recommended, but one i found for myself while looking for quiet  romantic songs. i feel like this is tachibana's reply to kiryu being there for him and helping him. plus, idk i just wanted to imagine them slow dancing to this. v. positions - ariana grande (covered by travis atreo) "perfect, perfect you're too good to be true but I get tired of runnin', fuck it now, i’m runnin' with you" i picked this cover because i felt like using ariana's one would be a little goofy for this section lmao, but i really like this song and how it's about commitment and doing everything to make a relationship work. i just wanted to throw some sexy vibes before this playlist delved into depressing stuff. also if you telling me tachibana wouldn't absolute body a tiktok set to this song you're lying to yourself. (section 3: oh no this is getting sad) i. forever - labrinth "i'll live forever" i love everything labrinth makes, the euphoria soundtrack lives in my mind rent free and this is my favorite one. this barely has any lyrics so, again, mostly a track i picked for its intrumentals and feeling overall. mostly preparing you for the sad stuff ahead. ii. hong kong - gorillaz "you swallow me i'm a pill on your tongue here on the nineteenth floor the neon lights make me calm" this is my favorite gorillaz song, by FAR, and i think it's introspective vibe really fits tachibana's character. not really a song about relationship but i really wanted to include it because it's just such a GORGEOUS song. iii. fragments - severon another instrumental track! this one i stole from a playlist my sister made for a fic i wrote last year. again. sad vibes. iv. sign of the times - harry styles (covered by LANY) "remember everything will be alright we can meet again somewhere somewhere far away from here" i loved the synth-y vibe this cover had, while still keeping this song's sad "our lives are dangerous and i'm about to die" vibes. i mostly wanted to evoke the vibe from the scene where tachibana agrees to go with lao gui after kiryu gets shot. just really sad all around. v. so close - jon mclaughlin "we're so close to reaching that famous happy end almost believing this one's not pretend let's go on dreaming though we know we are so close, so close, and still so far" me? picking a song from disney's enchanted??? for a playlist??? it's more likely than you think. idk this song just gives me that vibe of being so close to being happy and together, almost reminiscing and wondering what could have been. but it just... won't happen. vi. as the world caves in - matt maltese "yes, it's you i welcome death with as the world, as the world caves in" oops, yes, i had to go there. just couldn't resist including this song, and i feel like it's really self-explanatory. vii. places we won't walk - bruno major "neon lights shine bold and bright buildings grow to dizzy heights people come alive at night in places we won't walk" again, i feel like this song speaks for itself. a bit of a meditation on kiryu's perspective on things that could have happened, things they would have done, that kiryu will just have to do alone from now on. viii. carry me out - mitski "i drive when it rains at night, when it rains, i drive and the headlight spirits they lead me down the styx so black it shines and carry me out carry me out"

possibly the saddest and the most powerful song in this playlist, because i just had to put a mitski song again. the image of kiryu carrying tachibana's body is just constantly in my mind when i listen to this, but i could also see this song being from the perspective of tachibana's spirit. ix. arms tonite - mother mother "i died in your arms tonight i slipped through into the afterlife it was nice" lmao this felt a bit like a cruel joke to include, but i didn't want this playlist to end TOO depressingly. it's a nod to tachibana dying in kiryu's arms, sure, but also it's romantic and possibly a little hopeful (tachibana lives au!!! orpheus and eurydice au!!! fuck it, idk!!)  xi. everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears "there's a room where the light won't find you holding hands while the walls come tumbling down when they do, i'll be right behind you so glad we've almost made it so sad they had to fade it everybody wants to rule the world" not a recommendation from my sister, but it is her favorite song, and she was happy that i included it. another 80's bop with sad lyrics! i feel like this is a lovely summary of their story together and it feels like a nice little bow to wrap up the playlist.  i hope you enjoyed my long ass explanations! i might add songs later (or make an entire second playlist altogether for the fic i'm writing rn, but let's not get ahead of ourselves)

#tachikiryu #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku #kazuma kiryu #tetsu tachibana #playlist #audio #THIS IS SUCH A LONG POST I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE ALL THIS ARRRRGH #praying this shows up in the tags lmao

[starswornoaths]

Prompt 25: Wish

I squeaked by submitting the word doc on this one bc I was so weirdly. invested. akdlhsflkdg

I wrote, briefly, about one of Aymeric’s exes, so it felt only right to introduce one of Serella’s! How fun!

word count: 2,120

It was a rare thing, Serella wishing on a shooting star. As a child, she did it every time she saw one, and had always had the sort of wishes that come with youthful naivete. Having been forged into a tool for the betterment of the realm, and having long grown out of those childishly selfish sort of wishes, she knew them better as a channeling mechanism, as a broad expanse of energy she could tap into. She knew them better as a chart to map out her course, as a balm to heal the hurts of those around her.

Even now, stood not far from a banquet table with a flagon of mead in hand, eyes watching the way Hyana, Estinien, and Aymeric all spoke in animated whispers and all dressed in finery befitting this Gridanian gala, Serella was reluctant to make wishes, to hope for something for herself. Admittedly, she had taken the excuse of wanting more mead to just observe the three of them from afar. Aymeric, dressed down but still elegant, all fine leather and soft cloth in that shade of blue she could only associate with him, eyes crinkled in a smile in that way that only happened when it was genuine, and only really happened in their company. Even Estinien had managed to dress up a bit, though she suspects that had a lot to do with Hyana wrangling him into it— and ah, Hyana. She was resplendent, wrapped in a gown that looked to be made of the forest itself, she moved with the grace and power of water itself, and Serella watched, transfixed.

The three of them made a stunning constellation upon wish she could chart her course, a guide home when she was lost. A pity, then, that Hyana and Estinien yet hesitated in joining. Someday, I’ll be useful enough to justify it to them, she thought to herself— and ah, there was a wish, she supposed. She had memorized every constellation, every gate for an Astrologian to open, and still, she could think of no better stars to wish on than the three of them, and chose to make it enough that she wished for them to be happy.

So enchanted and thoroughly distracted, she hadn’t realized she was being watched until she felt a nauseatingly familiar aether close in on her. It was a heavy feeling, like standing in a room that had only moments before been on fire, smoke filling her lungs and weighing her down, oppressive and heated. On reflex, Serella’s hackles raised in anticipation for the source of that uneasy feeling. 

“Ella Bella!” Called the wraith from her past.

Serella didn’t turn her head to look at the woman who had called her in such a tittering, birdsong voice. Her hands curled tighter around her flagon.

“Lady Eveanne.” She replied evenly, eyes fixed on her constellation. 

“You remember me!” The Gridanian noblewoman gasped in exaggerated relief. “Oh, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, my how things have changed!”

“And yet stayed the same.”

For a start, that larksong voice of hers had grated against some of her more benign nightmares, scraping and simpering as it was, talking about Serella and at Serella without speaking with her. Always, always about, “My little doll might be a little broken, but she’s still made of sturdy porcelain, isn’t she?” 

Little wonder Serella had foregone relationships for so long after she lad left Gridania.

“Why won’t you look at me, little doll?” She crooned.

You’re the Warrior of Light. You have expectations and titles and a job in the military and you have to be better than breaking her fucking jaw in.

“I’m too busy watching my partner.” Serella admitted, and really, it was true; Aymeric alone was more pleasant to look at, never mind the fact that there were two other people just as stunning as he was.

With her newly formed habit of making a wish upon a star, she begged him to notice her gaze as she took a long pull of her mead. Its sweetness settled on her tongue just as his eyes met hers, bright stars all their own, brilliant blue giving her a warm smile that turned inquiring, gaze drifting.

She hadn’t realized where he was looking until she felt Eveanne’s hand on her arm. She nearly jumped from the contact, and swiftly moved her arm to fold behind her back, out of reach.

“You found a partner?” The noblewoman spoke up in that higher pitch she often took when she was feigning interest in conversation. “Ohh, where…?”

Serella hadn’t realized she would use the opportunity to lean into her personal space, pretending to peer out into the crowd. It was, perhaps, unbecoming to stumble backwards, away from her, but the scent of her perfume— rose hips and lavender— rankled her.

Looking at her was worse.

We’re the same height now. Serella realized, and something about that angered her. Eveanne hadn’t aged a day in the near decade it had been since they had last seen one another, her chestnut hair held back in artful pleats folded over in a delicate hairpin bejeweled to resemble a peacock. The motif continued in her dress, all rich silks of blue, green, and tinges of gold. She looked, as ever, too opulent for her setting. She was the sort of woman who would show up to a funeral in a cherry red ballgown and insist her black sash was appropriate.

“Ahh, now she looks at me!” Eveanne beamed, clapping her hands together in front of her face once. “And how strange, my little doll is not so little anymore.”

Hands still pressed together, she tilted them to press against her own cheek, scrutinizing Serella. Uninterested in her, Serella turned back toward where Aymeric was now speaking in hushed whispers with Estinien, as if he were hurriedly trying to end the conversation— or perhaps talk Estinien out of something reckless. Or both.

Hyana was conspicuously absent. Serella couldn’t find her in the crowd.

“Was it the little bird in the green dress?” Eveanne asked. “Is it her?”

Serella didn’t answer. She didn’t know how to properly respond, and Eveanne wasn’t worthy of the knowledge anyroad.

“You’re not being properly cared for.” Eveanne continued, and the way the words stretched under her sneer made the way she pursed her lips audible enough that Serella knew exactly what expression she was making without looking. “Dresses don’t suit you anymore. You’re so boxy now.”

She would think that, the petite slip of a woman. Serella recalled a harvest festival attended on her arm, hearing her go on about how no one there dressed to suit their frame— or can’t afford to! She had laughed at her own joke, joined in by the cronies that had wanted some of her influence. Even then, Serella hadn’t understood the joke, beyond just being said to be cruel.

In hindsight, it should have been an informative, illuminating experience on Lady Eveanne Deautimoix overall.

“Such is the way of adventurers and Paladins alike.” Serella shrugged, and frowned deeply when she realized her flagon was empty. She set it aside on the table with a grimace, hating that there was nothing to occupy her hands now. Folding them tightly over her humble olive skirts, her creme sleeves and bust seemed stark, but she had thought her dress lovely. “And any piece of clothing will suit the wearer if it is properly tailored.”

“Ohh, did you learn that on your adventurers?”

“I learned many things. Not the least of which was how to be happy.” Serella hoped and prayed and wished with everything that she was that that would be enough for her to just leave.

“Were you truly so unhappy with me?” 

“I didn’t even know what happiness was with you.” Serella sneered, at the end of her patience. “I had to turn into a Warrior of Light before I even remembered the concept.”

“Oh, Ella Bella mine,” Eveanne crooned. Then, quick as lightning, darting out like a snake with its fangs bared, her hand caught Serella’s chin and turned her head to face her. “A Warrior of Light. Finally, my broken little doll found her use—”

“Let. Go.” Serella warned, voice a low snarl, her disgust evident. “Or I will break your arm.”

Eveanne opened her mouth to retort, likely with an, oh, you wouldn’t hurt me, which would be setting herself up for disappointment, really, but then before either of them could really react, Eveanne’s cold fingers left her face. Forcibly. 

Serella blinked owlishly, not entirely certain when Hyana had come over or how much of the conversation she had heard, but it was apparently enough to move her to wrenching Eveanne’s arm away, bending it in such a way that it seemed on the edge of snapping.

“What kind of arrogant little prick do you have to be,” Hyana snarled low, eyes burning with rage. “To try something like that with a Warrior of Light?”

Eveanne had never known the threat of danger. In all the time Serella had known her, her privilege had always been enough of a shield to keep most everyone at arm’s length from her. 

Hyana, for a thousand blessings, was not most people.

“Oh, are you her new handler?” Eveanne hissed, unaware that Hyana would, in fact, break her arm.

“Hyana, let her go. It’s alright.” Serella reassured with a tip of her chin.

Hyana didn’t seem keen to let go— for a blessing, Aymeric managed to beat Estinien through the crowd to join them, though the moment his eyes settled on Hyana grasping the woman’s forearm, he stilled.

“Eveanne, if you value the use of your arm, shut the fuck up.” Serella hissed, at least grateful she’d had a wish from some decade past granted in that regard. “No one is my handler— and just because you saw me as your charity pet doesn’t make you one, either.”

She turned kinder eyes to Hyana, still straining with the effort to not break her arm. “Let her go. I promise, it’s alright.”

Hyana still didn’t move, not until their eyes met for a long, long moment. Though she still burned with fury, she threw Eveanne’s arm into her torso.

“I see you near her again, I’ll be licking your blood of of my blade. Are we clear?” Hyana snarled in low warning.

The stillness of the gathering was not lost on Serella. Her ears burned. She had just wanted mead, how did it come to this? Even still, she couldn’t help but marvel at the three of them, all rage wrapped in finery, all upset on her behalf.

That was still something she needed to get used to, she supposed.

In much the same way she had done with Hyana, Aymeric turned gentle when he turned to step at her side. “Are you well?” He asked, his hand warm at the small of her back.

Eveanne gasped. At the sound, instantly, Aymeric’s gaze steeled as it darted to her.

“I know you.” Aymeric said, voice thick with open contempt. “Lady Deautimoix. Just influential enough to buy your way into politics but not important enough to have power over them.” He scoffed. “That you would have the confidence to disrespect a war hero so blatantly offends all sense and sensibility.”

Her heather gray eyes were wide with horror. It was a strange look on her, fear. Serella felt a little bad to take some measure of glee from it.

“I...forgive me, Lord Speak—”

“I am not the injured party. She has made her intentions clear.” His reply was swift but curt.

Eveanne left, and melted into the crowd with some semblance of shame— or a publicly acceptable facsimile of it, at least.

The noise of the celebrations resumed as quickly as it stopped, and the three closed in on her, all alarmingly gentle.

“You’re alright?” Estinien asked, the most reserved, though his gaze was discerning.

“I’m fine— really, I’m fine.” Serella shrugged them all off. “Really, I’m used to it—”

“Used to that?” Aymeric balked.

“That’s...more or less how relationships have been. Like with her.” She shrugged again, uncomfortable with their shocked gazes. “I was useful. And when I was useful enough, I was rewarded with affection. That’s...that’s how it works, right?”

The silence was sharp and loud in her ears, and it answered for all of them in the wake of their upset.

“I’m breaking both of her arms.” Hyana said, gathering her skirts and turning heel.

“I’ll make sure there are no witnesses.” Estinien mused, already stepping in line with her.

“No.” Serella and Aymeric said at the same time.

They stopped, however reluctantly.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxiv #I am as ever your shield #unstoppable forces and immovable objects #Serella Arcbane #Hyana Geriel #Aymeric de Borel #Estinien Wrymblood #'why is her ex such garbage?' great question definitely not based on real life events #'why does Serella think the way she does about herself when she's a WoL?' also excellent question trauma doesn't care #I wanted to write more articulately about her actual relationship trauma #but I was literally running down the clock it's the first time I've had to submit a google doc link ahdfuighilu #ANYWAY I HOPE THIS SPARKS JOY

[daylightsun]

What I Learn from Years of Reading and Collecting Books and Letting Some of Them Go

These past few days, I "KonMari" my room and decided to rearrange my bookshelves. While sorting out all of my belongings, I discovered a box filled with books I manically collected during my college years sitting underneath my bed. After opening it, the books seem to be staring at me while I stare back at them like we are having a confrontation of sorts. For a moment, it made me reflect on my life as a reader and book collector, and this sense of nostalgia hit me.

After snapping out of this nostalgic state, the fact remains that my shelf space and room space are precious and limited, and I only want to fill my life with things that “spark joy” within me. I need to decide which books would stay and which would eventually go to the bin. So in honor of literature month and the books I am about to throw away, I would like to write some piece to honor my journey as a reader and book collector.

Starting Years as a Reader and Book Collector

My fascination with books started early in my childhood. I remember holding my small hardbound fairytale books, a book set with stories like Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs and Three Little Pigs. But it was the illustrations at first that engrossed me. It's like my eyes can't get enough of the colors and drawings. I look at them again and again, committing them in my memory. Then there was my childhood best friend Grimm's book of fairytales. The book was enormous and heavy. It contained more words and the occasional one to two pages of illustrations, like the naked butt of the king in The Emperor's New Clothes, the candy house of the witch in Hansel, and Gretel other beautiful illustrations inside that book.

However, it is in my teenage years that I started to enjoy reading literature, and book reports ignite my interest in book collecting. Books like Ella Enchanted, The Little Prince, and Thieves of Ostia were carried inside our classroom boxes after boxes. A sheer excitement overcame me, forgetting the fear I felt days before asking for extra money to buy something outside the average family expenses, even if it is for school requirements.

I did not grow up in an environment that encourages me to read books outside the typical academic obligations. It is usual for Southeast Asian households to be thrifty, so buying books for leisure is a luxury. Moreover, since it does not involve cleaning and moving around the house, reading for my parents is a lazy activity. Not to mention what damage it can do to your eyesight, they would add. However, I continued to read in secret and went against the general expectations.

I have read Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince while holding a flashlight while everyone in the house is sleeping at night so no one could scold me. I read with my friends at school. We exchanged novels, particularly stories about young adults. I bought my first novel, L. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables, in a book fair inside my school using my savings. And even after my childhood best friend, who was four years older than me, went away to college, I marched to their house and borrowed books from her mother like Louisa Alcott's Little Women.

Reading helped me to cope with my deep-seated feeling of isolation and loneliness because of being an adopted child. I found out pieces of the truth through indirect hints and silent whispers between adults and childish banter between cousins. So I was left alone on my own devices to understand and stitch the truth. But in reading, I started to find solace and identity with the people I meet in stories. Books became for me houses I visit to explore and get to know the people living inside. And sometimes, I leave too early out of boredom or just out of an inability to comprehend the house. But sometimes, even after the visit, a piece of my heart stayed inside those pages. When I read, I have companions, and when I buy a book, I have something of my own.

Moreover, in books, I found girls like me, like Anne in Anne of Green Gables or Mary in The Secret Garden. Orphaned and neglected at a very young age and adopted, they were able to find acceptance and love. In those stories, they eventually mattered and belonged to the people around them. And in my heart, I wanted the same assurance these characters have that I am going to be OK despite my "oddness."

Not encouraged to read, buy books for my leisure, and being an adopted child in her young adolescent years made me want to form a personal path of rebellion. I decided to be a bookworm and persist in reading and building my book collection even if I am discouraged! Talk about being brave and revolutionary. Though I developed a deep affection for reading and books by this time, this "rebellious" way serves another personal purpose, and that is instead of being single out because ofbeing an adopted child, I can be single out because of my "bookish-ness." This identity gave me a powerful feeling of being significantly different from the crowd. I am somehow special but without the burden and constantly feeling the need to fight the pity of the people around me.

College Years

When I went to college, I develop an unhealthy impulse of excessively buying booksbut not reading them. There is a Japanese term for this impulsive behavior called "tsundoku." My obsession with buying books can be attributed to two main culprits. First, I started to attend and participate actively in church, and second, the store Book Sale.

In our church, we have a statement I wrote in the tablet of my heart with great faithfulness and love. It goes this way "Great leaders read books," which is a remarkable statement unless someone went overboard with trying to read books by purchasing them. This someone is, of course, is me. Ooops.

On multiple days within a week, I would visit and sit on the SM Baguio's Book Salefloor, hunting and obsessing over books. I would gladly move stacks upon stacks of books desperately looking for a purchase treasure. And most of us know, books are sold at Book Sale at a meager price. It became a standard for me to go home to my boarding house with three to five books. And oh boy, the stacks of books in my room just grew and grew. By the end of my seven years in college, the heaviest of my baggage is the one enormous box where I managed to fit all the books I have acquired.

Even though my college years were a time of my compulsive and unhealthy behaviors in reading and book buying, these were also the years I familiarized myself with what types of storytelling I would enjoy and who are my favorite authors. Neil Gaiman and Haruki Murakami cast their spell on me, and I would read again and again stories like The Little Prince, Memoirs of A Geisha, and The Last Time I Saw Mother.

But what I am most thankful for reading around this time is the opportunity it gave me to connect to other people through knowledge sharing. When I read an excellent book that gave me a lot of insight, there is an internal urge to pass it to someone else or talk about it with a friend. So I either talk about it or give the book. Giving that well-written book will sting a bit. Still, the disappointment of not having someone to undergo the experience of reading it is more painful than letting it go because I've discovered that there are types of books that cannot stay only in one pair of hands but have to travel to the next pair to be held and read. Some stories and books are personal to me, and they will stay on my shelves as long as they can, but there is another type of book that the knowledge they contain needs to be passed on and shared.

Working Years

Buying books using the allowance from your parents are far easier than using your own hard-earned money. Being a young professional and just started to manage my finances made the reality of my unhealthy addiction hit hard. I can not longer afford to go to book shops without thoroughly thinking if the book I am picking is something I should buy. "Adulting" has forced maturity in me.

Putting some healthy breaks on my general attitude towards reading and book collecting is just one part of the exciting times ahead of me as a bibliophile. Going back to my hometown and having more personal freedom have opened the doors to uncharted territories. As a reader and book collector, I've been officially and finally introduced to book fairs and Philippine Literature.

When I talk about book fairs that I participate in this time, these are the mega fairs that involve many publishing houses. Book fairs with book launching, book signing, live-reading, and writers' meet and greet events. The Manila International Book Fair (MIBF) and Big Bad Wolf are an example of these fairs. The experience was exhilarating and magical, and I would like to think that every reader and book collector would agree that book fairs are sort of heaven or nirvana on earth.

But so far, the greatest book fair I get to experience must also be the most challenging endeavor I undertook professionally, the Frankfurt Book Fair 2019. Imanaged to be a part of the team that organized the delegation that represented the Philippines in the largest international book fair. FBF is annually held during October in Frankfurt, Germany, with participants worldwide and boost to be the most extensive platform for digital and printed content. So even though I did not personally go to Frankfurt, being part of this massive event as a production assistant and being part of the early planning stages to post-prod was a dream come true. Seeing over 500 books published by the leading publishing houses in the country and written by Filipino authors showcased in the entire world in a beautifully designed stand made me very happy and proud.

Working in a government agency that primarily serves the Philippine publishing industry also gave me a closer look into the local literature. Unfortunately, I did not grow up reading books written by Filipino writers. Aside from the usual piece of local literature my Filipino textbooks in high school and college courses offered, Philippine literature did not become part of my early reading and book collection. But my ignorance of Filipino authors and literature ended when  I worked at NBDB and when a friend lent me Philippine literature books. As I started to read the literary works of Eliza Victoria, Nick Joaquin, Luis Joaquin M. Katigbak, and other amazing Filipino authors, I felt both shame and relief. I finally got to experience my national consciousness and Filipino identity through literature by Filipino authors for Filipinos.

But my bad habits in college still are present and had managed to erode my psyche. Surrounded by so many book-related things, I got back to the same dangerous pattern. I acquired more books but have no diligence and genuine interest in reading. In the process, I become a hoarder like the Businessman from The Little Prince, who cannot stop owning and counting every star he sees in the sky but never understood its value. After all, what is a book without its reader?

And as a result, something bad happened. The words in the pages started to leave me, I slowly lost the ability to build worlds in my head, and my insatiable thirst for knowledge had dwindled. Then one day, I lost all of my interest in books. For one and a half years, I would not touch any books on my bookshelves and stop actively reading and looking for books to buy. I had enough.

                                                           *** Going back to the present time and Marie Kondo, she mentioned in her best-selling book, The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up (and yes, I have the book), that the KonMari method encourages only to keep around thirty books. Thirty books seem to be awfully few, and how can a person who loves reading and collecting books find the courage to let go.

But as the book explained, you need to ask oneself the fundamental question of the KonMari method, "does this spark joy?". Does this book spark joy? Have I read this, and if I happened to have, does it aroused my intellect? And I have asked these hard questions to every book in my belongings.

It is almost four years after my time at the university. I am currently in a work-from-home setup which is a very fortunate situation while in the middle of a global pandemic. And yes, I am about to throw books, a lot of them, which you might think is a waste, but deep down, I know I will never reread these, nor will I ever start to read them again.

Honestly, I cannot remember the exact day I pick up a book on my shelf and read again, nor the reason behind it. But having the courage to declutter and purge my book collection, I realized a few months ago that I started again to read and purchase books, but this time there is an effort to be mindful with every reading and purchase made. This subtle change in behavior gave my reading and collecting a better sense of purpose and direction.

My life is composed of limited time, meaning I can only read books that much. But I've been in a relationship with books for many years now. Collecting books became a form of personal art, and reading stories helped me become a better person. It healed me, became a catalyst to learn a couple of life lessons, and taught me to give. And I do not see myself stopping at any point in my life. So might as well keep and read books that only truly capture my spirit, challenges me, and, if I was lucky, changes me. Because that is the thing about it, books are powerful.

#books #reading #literature #philippines #filipinowriters #southeastasian #literaturemonth #collecting #konmari #bookcollecting #bookcollector #bookcollection

[swanqueeneverafter]

The Once & Future Queen Pt.14

Storybrooke. Swan-Mills House. (With the family reunited, Ella and Henry watch Emma cradling her daughter in her arms by the fireplace. Although Maria is fast asleep, Emma is still whispering promises to never leave her again.) Ella: "Now that's what I call a happy ending." Henry: (Smiles:) "Yeah, it sure is. You know, word on the street is you made me a mix tape.” Ella: “Who told you? (Henry makes the lock and key motion to his mouth:) Hm, all right, I did.” Henry: “Well, I think I'm gonna need to see what's on it. I mean, you know, this could change everything.” Ella: “Well, then I better get it.” (Ella gets up to find the mix tape.) Regina: (Leans on the couch behind him:) “Aren’t you two adorable?” Henry: “Oh, hey Mom. What’s up?” Regina: “Not to interfere with whatever is going on between you two, but do you think you could look after Maria just a little longer?” Henry: “Sure. I mean she’s already sleeping so-” Regina: “Great. It’s just that Emma and I need to take a shower and we might be some time.” Henry: (Winces:) “Yeah, I really wish you hadn’t given me that image.” Emma: “Sorry, kid. We’ll try not to be too long.” Ella: (Returning with the tape:) “And if you believe that, you’ll believe anything.” (While Emma and Regina head for the stairs, Henry takes the tape from Ella and begins to read the label.) Henry: “Oh, ooh. Okay. We got some Beyonce... not a big surprise. Nice. Not a big surprise. Lauryn Hill. That's always a good choice.” Ella: “Mm.” Henry: “Oh, wow. Mikky Ekko, ‘Pull Me Down.’ Look at you! Now, that is an impressively deep cut.” (The rest of Henry’s appraisal is cut short when Ella leans in to kiss him.)

The Land of Oz. Past. (The Wicked Witch dines alone.) Zelena: (Taking a bite of her food:) “Ugh. The salt, please.” (As one guard rushes to bring her the salt, another enters the room.) Guard: “Your Wickedness, there's a man here to see you. He says he needs help.” Zelena: (Sighs:) “Don't people remember I exiled that charlatan Wizard ages ago? Maybe it's time I did something to remind them. Well, send him in.” (The guards open the doors and a man walks through them.) Stanum: “Hello, Zelena. It's good to see you again.” Zelena: (Shaking her head:) “Do I know you?” Stanum: “Perhaps you'd know me better if I were holding a bird's nest.” Zelena: (Stands:) “Stanum.” Stanum: (Chuckles:) “It's been a long time. And I see I'm not the only one who's changed.” Zelena: “What are you doing here?” Stanum: (He approaches:) “I was hoping you'd help an old friend. I chopped down a tree belonging to the Wicked Witch of the North, and she punished me by giving me a terrible curse.” Zelena: “What? She turned your clothes to tin?” (Chuckles.) Stanum: “That's just it. It's not just my clothes. It's me. (Lifts his sleeve to reveal his arm turning to tin:) And it's spreading. And unless I find a new heart soon, there won't be any of me left.” Zelena: “You'll be a walking tin can. (Giggles:) Well, what am I supposed to do about any of this?” Stanum: “There's an enchanted object. The Crimson Heart. It's said to be hidden in the woods, and there's a horrible monster that guards it. I need your help to get it.” Zelena: “Mm. So, you get a heart. What do I get out of this little arrangement?” Stanum: “Whatever happened to you using your magic for good?” Zelena: “Well, it's as you said. I've changed. And using magic to be wicked is a lot more fun.” Stanum: “That may be, but I don't think being wicked is the reason you're not helping me. You act powerful, but I think you're really afraid.” Zelena: (Closes the distance between them:) “How dare you talk to me like that. Do you know who I am, what I can do?” Stanum: “Yes. I just don't have much to lose anymore. Hope you enjoy having dinner by yourself.” (Stanum turns and begins walking out of the room.) Zelena: “Guards! (The guards block Stanum’s path:) I'm not afraid of some monster in the woods. I'm the most powerful witch in all of Oz. Now let's get that heart, and I'll prove it.”

Storybrooke. Present. The Dragon's Lair. (Zelena sits at the bar beside Rumple, discussing Morgana and her chances of being redeemed.) Zelena: "I mean it's not beyond the realms of possibility. Look at me. Look at you." Rumplestiltskin: "Yes but the fact remains that Morgana has no one left to support her. It was only through Belle's love and my desire to truly change for my son that saved me. Much like the love you have for your charming daughter here." Robin: "Thanks." Zelena: "Actually it was my time spent with the latest incarnation of Robin Hood that made me think Morgana might not yet be a lost cause." Robin: "Yeah?" Zelena: "Mm. (Takes a drink:) You see Robin was still haunted by all the men he killed back when he was in the King's army. It was only when he met up with you and your Dad's old mates that Robin felt he could do something to turn his life around." Rumplestiltskin: "Which is exactly what I said, it's the love of others that ultimately leads you down the path of redemption and Morgana has no one." Robin: "Well, Guinevere gave Morgana a second chance. She might still be willing to see the best in Morgana?" Zelena: "It's worth a shot. Trouble is, Guinevere and I aren't exactly on speaking terms. Ever since I aided Arthur back in Camelot, she doesn't quite trust me." Rumplestiltskin: (Scoffs:) "Imagine that." Robin: "Regina and Emma know her pretty well. Or Snow White, you could ask her to smooth things over between you two? I know Snow's good friends with Lancelot." Zelena: (Considers:) "That's true... but I think I'd rather ask Regina and Emma for the favour. I did just save their arses back in the forest after all." (Zelena pulls out her phone and makes the call.) Swan-Mills House. Bathroom. (The top of Regina's phone is visible within the back pocket of her discarded jeans. Unfortunately as the phone begins to ring, the sound is muffled by all of Emma's clothes that are currently piled on top. Despite having successfully managed to rid themselves of their clothing, neither Regina or Emma have made it to the shower. Perched on the marble counter top, Emma has her legs wrapped around Regina's shoulders as the brunette devours every last drop of her essence. Leaning back against the bathroom mirror, Emma allows the powerful orgasm to wash over her completely. Rising slowly up to claim Emma's lips with her own, Regina enjoys the look of utter satisfaction upon her wife's face.) Regina: "Mm. Ready for that shower now?" Emma: "G-give me a minute. I don't think I can walk anywhere right now." Regina: (Whispered into Emma's ear:) "Then let me carry you." Emma: "You're not serious." Regina: "Feel my arms and you tell me. (Emma slides her hand from Regina's back to her bicep and gives it an experimental squeeze. When Emma emits a groan of desire:) I had to do something with all my excess energy while you were away. Turns out that kettle bell in the garage was useful after all." Emma: (Wrapping her legs tightly around Regina's waist:) "Then what are we waiting for? (Regina smiles and kisses her wife before lifting her into her arms and walking them to the shower:) Holy God, woman. I've never been so turned on in all my life." (Regina chuckles and steps into the shower. Any further conversation is lost under the sound of falling water.)

Morgana’s Hovel. (Agravaine strokes Morgana’s cheek as she lies unconscious where he placed her on the bed. He gets up and walks over to the fire while Morgana stirs, dreaming.) Spirit World. (Apparently on the brink of death, Morgana is able to walk through the spirit world, where she is surrounded by dozens of lost souls. Troubled by their incoherent moaning and wailing, Morgana is relieved to see a familiar face walking towards her through the crowd.) Morgana: “Sister!” Morgause: (Holding up her hand to stop Morgana coming any closer:) “It is a joy to see you, my Sister, but please, do not come any closer.” Morgana: “Why not?” Morgause: “Because it is not your time to join me. (Morgana nods and stands firm:) Your latest battle has left you suspended between worlds.” Morgana: “I fear all is lost, Morgause.” Morgause: “You must be strong. (Morgause lowers her hand and turns it palm upwards. A large silver coin appears within it:) Take this.” (Morgana steps forward to accept the coin.) Morgana: “What is it?” Morgause: “It is the Coin of Necromancy. It will allow you safe passage back to the world of the living. Once returned you must travel to see the Dochraid and she will guide you. (Noticing the lost souls closing in on them:) Go quickly, Sister. These ghouls would seek to keep you here forever.” Morgana’s Hovel. (Morgana wakes, wide eyed and terrified, and sits up. Agravaine looks over and sees her awake.) Agravaine: “Morgana! (He rushes to her side:) When I found you, you were unconscious in the woods. What happened to you? Morgana, who did this to you?” Morgana: “That doesn’t matter now.” (She stands and walks away from the bed.) Agravaine: “It doesn’t matter? I don’t understand.” Morgana: “What’s important is that I hide this place from prying eyes. A cloaking spell should do.”

Agravaine: “All right. But then how will I be able to find you?” Morgana: “I shall use blood magic for the spell. You will be able to come and go as you did before. However, once it is in place I need to leave.” Agravaine: “No, my lady. Clearly it is not safe for you out there.” Morgana: “I will not sit and cower in my hovel, my lord. Besides, I have a new plan to reclaim Camelot as my own.” Enchanted Forest. Tavern. (Mulan and Ruby meet up with Tinker Bell and Tiger Lily.) Mulan: "So, things worked out pretty nicely for you two, huh?" Tinker Bell: (Holding Tiger Lily's hand:) "Yep, I'd say so." Mulan: "Are you still living in Neverland?" Tiger Lily: "We go back and visit occasionally, but Storybrooke's been our home for awhile now." Ruby: "They first arrived with Regina and Emma and the others when they returned from rescuing Henry. Granny swears by their herbal teas." Mulan: (Confused:) "Herbal teas?" Tinker Bell: "We run a little shop on Main Street. We sell crystals, herbal supplements and remedies." Tiger Lily: "With a 100% approval rating." Tinker Bell: "Yeah, because all of our products have a little fairy dust sprinkled in them. It drives Blue crazy." Mulan: (Chuckles:) "I'll bet." Tiger Lily: "She wasn't very pleased to see us when we first arrived. I think she felt a little threatened." Tinker Bell: "Oh she just needs to get that stick removed from her butt and enjoy herself." Tiger Lily: "She's still mad at us because some of her sisters left the convent. Turns out they took inspiration from us and realised they wanted more out of life." Tinker Bell: "Two became nurses and work at the hospital now." Mulan: "That's great. And er... (Nods to the hand holding:) things are obviously good between you as well?" Tinker Bell: (Smiling at Tiger Lily:) "Yeah, I'll say." Tiger Lily: (Chuckles:) "We started as mentor and mentee, then quickly became friends." Tinker Bell: "Then... well it took us awhile, but we finally realised our feelings for each other ran deeper than friendship and, well, here we are." Xena: (Entering with Gabrielle:) "You know, I hear the best relationships start out that way." (Everyone makes room at their table for Xena and Gabrielle, who have come to celebrate Mulan's return.)

Gabrielle: (Hugging the warrior:) "It's good to have you back." Mulan: "It's good to be back." Xena: (As she and Mulan clasp forearms:) "You know, Gabrielle and I have some experience with alternate timelines." Ruby: (Smiles:) "Yeah, we know." Mulan: "It's one of our favourite episodes." (Before Gabrielle can reply to this, an arrow whistles through the air and lands in the middle of the table between them. Everyone turns to see the archer.) Merida: “Sorry to break up the welcome home party, but I needed your attention.” Xena: (Growling:) “There were less deadlier ways of getting it.” Merida: “Deadly. That’s a perfect word to describe what we’re facing right now. You see, I’ve just spent the better part of three hours trying to find Morgana’s hideout and I couldn’t. Which is strange because I was standing inside it just this morning.” Xena: “Wake us when you get to the interesting part.” Merida: “Obviously Morgana’s using her magic to make finding her impossible, which means she’s up to something.” Gabrielle: “That’s a fair assumption. What do you want us to do about it?” Merida: “I’m looking to put a team together. I say we hunt down Morgana and put her out of our misery.” Mulan: “Merida, no! If you go after Morgana without a plan you’re just asking to get killed.” Merida: “I’m tired of waiting! The longer we wait, the more likely Morgana is to come up with another scheme that puts us all in danger. I say it’s high time we do something about it once and for all. If you don’t want to join me, fine, you’ve earned that right. But I won’t just sit around and do nothing.” (Xena and Gabrielle look to each other.) Gabrielle: “We’ll join you.” Merida: “You will?” Xena: (Looks surprised at Gabrielle, then nods:) “Yeah. If only to stop you from getting killed. Besides, after what I did to her sister, I’m pretty sure I’m high on Morgana’s ‘to do’ list. Might as well make it easy for her.” Ruby: “That’s all well and good, but you still don’t have a way to counteract Morgana’s magic.” Merida: “Actually, I think I might know someone who’d be interested in joining us. She’s no fan of Morgana’s either. You coming?” (Xena and Gabrielle look to Ruby and the others then follow Merida out of the tavern.) Storybrooke. The Dragon's Lair. (Emma watches Snow White dote on Maria while she sits at the bar.) Emma: "You know I was the one who was gone for awhile, right?" (Emma points to the banner overhead which reads: Welcome Home Emma & Mulan. After much back and forth between Robin and Granny, it was decided to hold a joint celebration at the Dragon's Lair and Granny's. With the guests of honour promising to make an appearance at both venues, each restaurant is sure to turn a profit.) Snow White: "Of course, Emma, but you won't let me hold you half as long as Maria will. So I'm getting my cuddles from her on your behalf." Emma: (Smirks:) "Fine by me. That just means more hug time for my Dad." (Emma pulls David in for a hug and he wraps his arms around her tightly.) A Short Time Later. (David sits down to speak with the Reporter.) Reporter: "I saw that hug between you and Emma earlier, there looked to be a lot of emotions behind it." David: (Nods:) "You know, time is a funny thing. When you're happy it can fly by. When you're sad, even a week can seem like an eternity. I know what it's like to be separated from the ones I love. I literally slept through almost three decades of my daughter's life and the first ten years of Henry's. When the curse broke and I finally realised how much time had gone by, I was crushed. Every day since then, I've made a point of being present. Of living in the now. (Chuckles:) I admit that to some I may appear to be the typical hen-pecked husband, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love Snow and would do anything to make her happy. Emma is the same. I know how important it was for her to not miss a day of Maria's life like she did with Henry. I see the joy that lights up Emma's face when she's surrounded by her family and recognise that in myself. So you asked me if there was a lot of emotion behind the hug we shared?" Reporter: "Seems I was right." David: (Smiles:) "Emma will never fully admit it, but I know how much that week or so away would've taken out of her. Some people say as the years go by that things like this get easier, but they never do. I'm just glad Emma's back and able to enjoy everything she's worked so hard for." Reporter: "That sounds like a very proud Papa talking?" David: "Oh yeah. I couldn't be more proud of Emma."

Back At The Bar. (Henry and Ella arrive.) Ella: “Hey guys. Nice turn out.” Emma: “Yeah, it’s not bad.” Henry: “Hey, Mom. You okay?” Regina: “Yeah, just overworked and underpaid.” Henry: “Well luckily you know the owner. (Nods to Robin:) If I were you I’d ask for a raise.” Regina: (Smiles:) “What can I get you?” Henry: “Two beers, and make it the good stuff, because we are celebrating.” Regina: “Celebrating?” Emma: “Uh, you mean other than my safe, heroic return?” Henry: “Well that too, of course.” Ella: “But also, we got the electrical system running on the food truck.” Regina and Emma: “Ah.” Regina: “Well, that is good news.” Ella: “I just wish I knew when we were actually gonna make some money.” Robin: (Cuts in:) “Why don't you come work for me?” Ella: “What?” Robin: “Well, I mean, why not? I can use the help. You know, this place has picked up quite a bit since Maleficent’s stopped scaring away half the customers. Plus, now that Emma’s back, I doubt Regina will be sticking around much longer.” Regina: (Smiles:) “Now that you mention it...” Robin: “See? So finish that drink and grab an apron.” Ella: “Robin, thank you.” Emma: “That's good. Right?” Ella: “Yeah, no, it's amazing.” (After a bit of non verbal communication between Emma and Henry - namely Emma prodding him - Henry turns to Ella.) Henry: “Uh, so I was thinking, maybe it's time you let me take you out on that date.” Ella: “The make up date, you mean?” Henry: “Yeah, have I apologised for that yet?” Ella: “Not today at least.” Henry: “Ah, well I am very sorry for standing you up like I did.” Ella: “Uh huh. Well I don’t feel like going to a restaurant. I wanna do something fun. What do you think?” Henry: “Absolutely. Fun I can do, no problem.” Ella: “Then I guess it’s a date.” Henry: “Great.” (Emma and Regina exchange knowing smiles just as Drizella enters the bar.) Emma: "Drizella. Nice of you to make an appearance." Regina: (Coldly:) "Uh, yeah, we’ve got a strict no-whiskey-for-witches policy." Drizella: (To Emma:) "She's still not talking to me? (Emma shrugs:) What if I said I know of a way to defeat Morgana?"

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

[fandomoblivion]

Ella Enchanted (part three)

Fandom: Stranger Things season 3

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Summary: (Y/N), also known as Nine, was a girl being experimented on all her life by the Hawkins Lab, conditioned into following every command her brain heard. She managed to escape the lab, with the help of her little sister Eleven, and was taken in by Hopper. Now, it’s a year later, and the three of them are a happy family. She just got her first job, where she works alongside Steve “The Hair” Harrington… who her father doesn’t much like.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1,088

Notes: ask and you shall recieve the next part! i know there’s not much here, and there’s not much steve in this part, but their section of episode 3 was very short. i promise you there will be more to come thanks to Miss Rona though :)

prologue / one / two

The next day, as you were walking on the first floor of the mall on your way to your shift, you spotted a familiar face hiding behind binoculars in the bushes. It seemed as though they had spotted you too, so you awkwardly waved.

Steve didn’t respond, but Dustin grinned and yelled, “(Y/N)! Get over here!” 

You felt your brain go fuzzy as your feet dragged themselves over to where the boys were. Steve was yelling at Dustin in hushed tones about getting “caught being spies,” but you tried to ignore the dumbassery.

“Hi.” You said quietly. You still weren’t comfortable talking normally around anyone except Hopper. Even sometimes with El, you had problems getting out full sentences. She understood, though. Quite often you two could have full conversations, only speaking one word each back and forth. 

“I can’t believe she’s with him.” Steve grumbled, clearly looking at someone through the binoculars, ignoring you completely.

“Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?!” Dustin said, grabbing the binoculars.

Steve choked around the neck strap for a second, saying, “Stop, hey. Stop.”

“Give me those!” Dustin said, taking the strap off Steve.

You stood awkwardly, rocking back and forth on your heels. You felt uncomfortable standing there, being a part of this conversation. You felt even more uncomfortable when Dustin said, “I don’t get why you’re even looking at girls anyway. You have the perfect one right in front of you.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “If you’re talking about Robin, I-”

“Robin?! No! (Y/N).” Steve looked at you and met your eyes. You felt the blood drain from your face. 

“She’s an experiment, Henderson. She’s not a girl.”

Ow.

You felt like you had been slapped. Here, in the middle of the mall, Steve just said the words that had been haunting you, keeping you from acting like a normal teenager this whole time.

“Steve!” Dustin said. “(Y/N), he didn’t-”

“You’re right.” You huffed, walking away as swiftly as you had walked there. You were glad they didn’t tell you to stay, or come back, or… 

You were upset. So, you rushed up the escalator to Robin to start your shift. “Hey, Translator.” She joked, handing Lucas’s little sister a taste of some flavor she didn’t need to taste. Robin looked up at you, used to you not saying hi back. She furrowed her brow when she saw your glossy eyes. “Shit, what happened?” She asked, closing the ice cream case.

Erica started to protest, but Robin just shut her up with a quick “I’m going on my break, twerp.” And she grabbed your arm, pulling you into the back room.

“What happened?” She repeated. You avoided her gaze, but she ducked and dodged her head around to meet your eyes. “(Y/N).”

“Steve said something.”

“What did he say? Tell me.”

Oh fuck. 

Your brain went numb as you repeated Steve’s words: “She’s an experiment, Henderson. She’s not a girl.” Robin didn’t know about Eleven, or about Hawkins Lab, or about your past at all. She didn’t know what Steve’s words meant. And yet…

“Dick. He called you an experiment? I mean, sure you’re weird, but like in a cool way.” You let out a breathy laugh. “Seriously. That’s a messed up thing to say, and it’s so not true. Got it?” You nodded. “Cool. So I’ve been trying to translate this bit of Russian all day, and I cannot for the life of me get it down. Can you do it?”

You nodded. You needed her to tell you straight out to translate it, not ask you to. You thought for a second, then asked, “Um, do what?”

“Translate this.” She said, playing the full tape.

Fuzzy brain. “The week is long. The silver cat feeds when blue meets yellow in the west. A trip to China sounds nice if you tread lightly.”

“Tread! That was the word. I was thinkin’ squeeze. That is so not squeeze.”

Suddenly, you heard a knock at the back door. “I got it.” Robin went and opened it, and a delivery guy was standing there. You saw her sign for a package, and then he left. After he left, she ran into the hall and stood, watching him walk away.

“Are you okay?” You asked, walking over. 

“Silver cat.” Robin said, pointing at the delivery guy’s uniform. Sure enough, on the back of his dorky LYNX DELIVERY shirt was a picture of a silver cat.

Robin grabbed your hand and the two of you rushed out of the ice cream parlor, pushing past Steve and Dustin on your way. She pulled you to the center of the mall, up onto the planters.

“A trip to China sounds nice.” She said, repeating it over and over to herself as she looked around.

Then it clicked in your brain. “Imperial Panda.” You said, looking at the Chinese restaurant. 

“If you tread lightly.”

You pointed right above the restaurant. “Kaufman Shoes.”

“When blue and yellow meet in the west.”

 Your head felt like it was spinning. You and Robin looked around and around, until Robin stopped, looking up at the clock. There was a blue hand and a yellow hand. 

“Robin.” You two looked down and saw Steve standing there. “The hell are you doing?”

“(Y/N) cracked it.” Robin said, grinning.

“Cracked what?” Dustin asked.

Robin jumped down, helping you down too. “She cracked the code.”

“Of course she did.” Steve mumbled under his breath. 

“Let’s take a walk, Steve. I’ll explain the code to you in big, slow words so you understand.” Robin said, leaving you with Dustin.

“Is he always mean like that?” You asked the kid.

He groaned. “Sorry about him. I kinda yelled at him for you after what happened earlier. He apologized, and then I was all ‘Uhh, dude! Don’t apologize to me! Apologize to (Y/N)!’ and then he was all ‘Durrr my brain no workey.’” You laughed at the kid’s energy, and the two of you started walking towards the food court. 

“Thank you.”

“Anytime.” There was a pause. “So… the code?”

“Right. Yes.” You tried your best to explain what you and Robin figured out to the kid, stuttering over your words and trying to form full sentences. You did your best, but still not good. He did his best to understand though, repeating everything back to you to see if he was understanding. 

He’s a sweet kid. You realized you’re gonna need him if you intended to work around that Steve Harrington much longer. 

-----

TAGLIST 

@alina-margaret . @almostsecretmusic . @american-duchess . @anamcg317 . @annaewww . @bubblegumcat229 . @bucky-newtlock . @canny1902 .  @christinawxxx . @cosmickha0s . @creativedogs . @darkcrystal-wolf . @decaffeinatedtachycardia . @djisprobablydead . @eliza-kat . @eyeballtoes . @fandomsstolemylife00 . @fredweasleysupportgroup . @ggclarissa . @ginger-swag-rapunzel . @gracelynns . @grippleback-galaxy . @gruffle1 . @hananabee . @hannarudick . @harrys-kiwi . @hayadora . @heavenlyholland . @hellhoundschewtoy . @izabellah816 . @likemeonlyme . @lilyhw1 . @loco-latte . @l0ve-0f-my-life . @mackycat11 . @megsell99 . @metuel18 . @phluffyphantom . @potterhead-witch . @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc . @princessrow12 . @queen1054 . @rainbowmarta . @sheridans-dynamos . @sunshine-and-riverwater . @thecaptainsgingersnap . @thegloryofliterature . @thoughstofaredhead . @ucantknowmeyet . @used-avocado . @whataloadofmalarkey

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #stranger things s3 #steve x reader #jonathan byers #joyce byers #will byers #dustin henderson #nancy wheeler #lucas sinclair #erica sinclair #mike wheeler #max mayfield #chief hopper #jim hopper #jane hopper #el #elle #eleven #x reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction

[lesdemonium]

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope Chapter 15

Ship: Geraskier Word count: 43347 (total) Chapter: 15/16 Summary:  

“Such a nice, beautiful sound,” the fae crooned. “If only he were this way always.”

Julian’s mother stood up. She claimed she was prepared to stop the fae, to protect her baby, but in Julian’s darkest moments he doubted this part of the story. His mother loved him, of that he had no doubt, but she had been young and weary, and even years later, she couldn’t quite get the twinge of exhaustion out of her eyes when she recalled Julian’s infancy. Even if she had been keen on protecting him, the fae was too close, too fast, too set on his plan.

“A gift, for the new mother,” the fae continued. He leaned a hand in to stroke Julian’s cheek. “I give you the gift of obedience.”

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier’s mother with Jaskier’s obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the “gift” became more of a curse.

Additional tags: AngstAngst with a Happy EndingHeavy AngstUnrequited LoveNot Actually Unrequited LoveAlternate Universe - Canon DivergenceCanon EraNot Canon CompliantCursed Jaskier | DandelionAlternate Universe - Ella Enchanted FusionCurse of ObedienceRape/Non-con ElementsImplied/Referenced Rape/Non-conJaskier | Dandelion Whump

read on ao3 - read chapter 1 on ao3

read chapter 1 on tumblr

Something was different.

When Jaskier woke, his body stiff and his joints aching, the dungeon was quiet. In the days--had it only been days?--since he had been imprisoned, the dungeon was constantly alive with noise. Guards everywhere, chatting as loud as they pleased, at all hours. Jaskier had been unable to sleep soundly, not that he would have, being bound to the wall.

Now, though, when Jaskier craned his neck to see beyond his small field of vision, he couldn’t see a single guard. No one was talking, there were no footsteps echoing, Jaskier couldn’t even hear breathing other than his own. He sagged in relief for a moment, only a moment, before he noticed other sounds. Far away sounds. A struggle happening, elsewhere. There was distant yelling and every so often a clattering of metal on stone.

What was happening? Where was everyone? He blinked as he glanced around his cell, as if that would give him any hints, but inevitably he found nothing. All he could do was wait.

No sooner than he had decided that, did the door to the dungeon slam open. Footsteps approached him, and Jaskier braced himself. Cahir came into view, a mage beside him with rich dark skin and a long, sweeping cloak. If she hadn’t come with Cahir, and hadn’t snarled at Jaskier disdainfully, he might have called her beautiful.

“He finally came for you,” Cahir said, sounding pleased.

Cahir unlocked Jaskier’s cell and stepped close to him, as Jaskier stared at him bewildered. Surely he didn’t mean Geralt. But, the barely restrained glee in his eyes, he must have meant Geralt. Cahir grabbed Jaskier by his jaw, pulling him close and wrenching it open despite Jaskier’s sudden vigor in trying to get away from him. He revealed a glass vial, and poured the contents down Jaskier’s throat before he had a chance to struggle away. It tasted like sludge, and Jaskier sputtered as Cahir released him.

“You’ll sleep now, long enough for him to get you away and trust he rescued you. Don’t forget our plan, Jaskier. Get the witcher out of my way, and bring the princess back here for me.”

He tried to resist the pull of the draught, but Jaskier’s limbs soon grew heavy and he collapsed against the cold stone wall. Beyond the dungeon, the struggle grew closer. Jaskier stayed conscious just long enough to watch Cahir and the mage disappear into a portal, before Jaskier fell into darkness.

When Jaskier woke again, he found a pair of blue eyes staring intently down at him. He shot up, just narrowly colliding with the young girl hovering above him, and looked around wildly. Something in his abdomen pulled, and he winced, smoothing over one of his wounds with the palm of his hand.

He was surrounded by trees. The sun shone brightly through the leaves, and though the foliage shielded him from the worst of the bright rays, Jaskier’s eyes still twinged as he struggled to adjust. The girl to his right was unfamiliar to him, but as Jaskier examined her, the knot of dread in his stomach grew. If Cahir was right, if Geralt really had saved Jaskier, then this had to be--

“Jaskier,” a familiar voice said from behind him.

Geralt stepped closer, until he was finally illuminated by the sun, and Jaskier could have wept. He had so longed to see Geralt again, but now all he wanted was to run away. His curse would not let him. Instead, he sat, frozen, staring up at the man who was simultaneously the only and the last person Jaskier wanted to see. To his mortification, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

“Geralt, you have to--I can’t--” Jaskier tried feebly, but the words died in his throat. He couldn’t tell Geralt about Cahir’s plan, and what Jaskier had to do. Jaskier tried, though. He tried as hard as he could to push back the blockage in his throat, but all that came out was a high-pitched, keening sound, and Geralt reached out to touch Jaskier’s arm.

“It’s okay, you’re safe now,” Geralt soothed him, or tried to, but Jaskier’s pounding heart would not calm.

Jaskier watched, stunned, as Geralt looked over his wounds. Several were bandaged, and he removed the dressings that had bled through and applied new ones. Jaskier couldn’t speak, his mouth gone completely dry, as Geralt rubbed a salve into the cuts on his wrists from his shackles.

“You’re Jaskier,” the girl cut in, and Jaskier turned to look at her, feeling a bit sheepish for forgetting about her so quickly. He chalked that up to being in a delicate state. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

Jaskier sniffed, trying to quickly pull himself together, and managed a smile. “I am,” he answered, nodding. “And who might you be?”

“I’m… Fiona,” she said, glancing at Geralt. Geralt shook his head, briefly, and she looked back at Jaskier with a small smile. “I mean Cirilla. But you can call me Ciri.”

Jaskier nodded, though his smile faded into a grimace. This was who they were after, who Jaskier was to deliver right into the jaws of the monster. Jaskier’s heart was leaden in his chest as he catalogued her face. She looked so much like Pavetta, and as a result this child felt so familiar to Jaskier. She felt dear to him, and Jaskier couldn’t betray her. He had to get out of this. He had to fix this.

Jaskier wheeled on Geralt, snatching his wrist away from the witcher’s nimble fingers, and cradling it against his chest instead.

“Geralt, you have to go--you have to leave, now. Leave me behind,” Jaskier insisted, his eyes filling with unbidden tears.

“Jaskier, no,” Geralt answered, shaking his head as his eyes furrowed. “I’m not going to just leave you again. Not without--Not after--”

He cut himself off, abruptly standing. Geralt’s gaze fell on Cirilla for a moment before he looked back at Jaskier, and bent down to pull Jaskier to his feet. Jaskier went willingly, though once he stood steadily, he pushed Geralt away.

“No, I don’t--” Jaskier tried, but it was getting harder to speak. He couldn’t find a way to even dance around the truth, around what Cahir had forbidden him to tell Geralt. He also couldn’t find the words to convince Geralt to leave him. “I don’t want--”

“We--We need to go to town. We’re far enough away, we’ll be safe there, and we can get you a healer.” Geralt held out a hand for Ciri, and pulled her up as well. Jaskier looked between the two, shaking his head, but no words would come out. “We can talk there.”

Geralt reached for Jaskier’s hand, but Jaskier snatched it away again. He tried to walk away from Geralt, but all Jaskier succeeded in doing was stumbling wildly, pacing back and forth as if he had gone mad or was having a conniption of some kind. Geralt’s features knitted together, looking so guilty, and every time he chanced a step forward, Jaskier let out a high pitched noise, so anguished and panicked even Jaskier didn’t know how it could have come from his own body.

Cirilla looked terrified, but still Jaskier couldn’t stop. His body wouldn’t let him run away and put as much distance between them, but still he tried. It was like he was back in that forest with Geralt so long ago, his traitorous body conflicting with his own mind, and he was powerless.

“Jaskier, you need to calm down,” Geralt said, stepping forward slowly, his hands out before him. Jaskier tried to get away from him to no avail, and felt hot tears stream down his face. His whole body hurt, and he could feel the fight leaving him. “You’re panicking, but we have to keep moving.”

Geralt stepped closer, and Jaskier tried to shove him away, but Geralt did not yield. Instead, he swooped down and picked Jaskier up, slinging him over his shoulder. Jaskier thrashed, trying to dislodge himself, and finally stopped when he pulled at a wound hard enough to make himself gasp.

“Geralt, I don’t want to go! You need to leave me here. I have to--” The words caught in his throat again and he let out a frustrated groan. Jaskier looked up and saw Ciri staring at him, her eyes wide. She was following them now, as Geralt stomped his way through the forest, but she kept a safe distance between them, as if she was afraid Jaskier would swing at her . “Ciri, please, tell him. Tell him to leave me.”

Ciri shook her head. “We’re trying to help you. Why are you fighting him?” she asked.

Jaskier slumped, all the fight finally gone, and he pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes. “Geralt, please . For once in your life, just listen to me.”

Geralt shook his head. “I can’t, Jaskier. I have to make sure you’re safe. And then I’ll--I’ll go however far you tell me to. Just let me get you safe, first.”

Jaskier bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to make it bleed. The indignity of this all was truly disheartening. He had no choice in Cahir’s plan, and now he had to go wherever Geralt moved him. For all the times Jaskier had followed after the witcher as he was told, repeatedly, to get lost, and now the tables had finally turned. Of course Geralt had to be a contrarian bastard.

“You sure call a lot of shots,” Jaskier spat, though his ferocity was greatly diminished by the fact that he was, more or less, having this conversation with Geralt’s ass. “ Now you want to stay with me? You’ve finally finished running away, after evading me in city after city? What, did you hear me coming? Smell me? And you just ran off . But now that it’s your idea, oh, Jaskier can stay! Even if Jaskier doesn’t want to! All that matters is what Geralt wants!”

Geralt sighed, but he kept marching on. He didn’t even bother to give Jaskier any answers. Jaskier tried, with great effort, to needle Geralt into some sort of response, but his walls were back up. No matter what tactic Jaskier used, Geralt would not be moved.

“You’re very angry,” Ciri finally chimed in, after Jaskier had gone on a particularly poetic tirade about the not-so-pure speculated lineage of Geralt’s mother.

It took a considerable amount of effort for Jaskier to raise himself enough to look Ciri in the eye. She looked less terrified now, at least, but no less interested. Her head was tilted just slightly and her eyebrows sat high on her face.

“Well,” Jaskier said, giving in to gravity--and his aching, not-at-all-healed wounds from being beaten for days--and allowed himself to flop back against Geralt’s body. “There’s very little dignity in being thrown like a sack of potatoes over someone’s shoulder and carted off to wherever they want you to go.”

“I have to make sure you’re safe, Jaskier,” Geralt finally chimed in. Jaskier could have hit him, if he’d had better leverage.

“Did we all forget the fact that I’ve been injured? In more ways than one?” Jaskier rolled his eyes, to the benefit of no one but himself.

“Your worst injuries are on your back and legs. I could carry you bridal style, or make you ride Roach, but those options would hurt more.”

“You could let me walk.”

“You’d run,” Geralt said, with a great deal of finality.

“Haven’t I earned that? Haven’t I earned the chance to make my own decisions about where I go in regards to you?” Jaskier spat back.

Geralt was quiet for a long moment. Jaskier was sure he wouldn’t respond at all, when Geralt softly uttered, “I’m sorry, Jaskier. Let me be selfish a little longer.” So softly Jaskier almost didn’t hear him.

Jaskier didn’t struggle again until they made their way to a town. Which town, Jaskier had no idea. He struggled anyway, with enough ferocity that Geralt had to wrap both arms around his legs to keep Jaskier from kicking the people they passed by.

“Let me go ! We’re in town, I can find the healer on my own!” Jaskier insisted. Geralt ignored him, and instead negotiated with an innkeeper for a room and to fetch a healer.

When Geralt laid him down in the bed, Jaskier bolted upright and tried to scramble away, but Geralt’s hands caught his wrists with ease, and he forced Jaskier back down. At least he managed to look pained as he did it, though it did nothing to sway Jaskier’s feelings. Instead, he struggled harder, trying ineffectually to escape Geralt’s grip.

“Ciri, stand outside the door,” Geralt finally said, his voice laced with exasperation. Jaskier, foolishly, felt a great deal of pride that at least he was grating on Geralt. “Jaskier and I need to talk”

“No!” Jaskier cried, finally freezing underneath Geralt’s hands. “No, don’t go. Geralt, you have to listen to me, no .”

Geralt, eyeing Jaskier warily, let go of Jaskier’s wrists. Jaskier didn’t move, not even a little, as he silently pleaded with Geralt to listen to him, just this once . Instead, Jaskier was horrified as Geralt turned to Ciri and nodded once, and she stepped outside, closing the door behind her.

They were alone. They were alone, and Jaskier’s body reacted instantly. Geralt was still turned toward the door, and Jaskier grabbed the dagger Geralt kept hidden in his belt. Jaskier freed the blade and, blessedly, that was as far as he got before Geralt caught on to what he was doing. Geralt’s hand caught Jaskier’s wrist midair, the tip of the blade poised to sink its way into Geralt’s heart.

The shock was clear on Geralt’s face as he found Jaskier’s eyes, and his grip turned almost crushing as Jaskier’s hand continued to press forward with all the strength Jaskier could muster. Geralt could have actually crushed Jaskier’s wrist, but he didn’t. He was still holding back. Jaskier wasn’t even surprised by the tears pricking the corner of his eyes as he, too, tried futilely to fight against his own body.

“Geralt, you have to go,” Jaskier begged. He pressed further still, almost lifting off the bed, and Geralt clambered over him, straddling Jaskier’s hips and pinning him into the mattress. “I can’t--I have to--”

“Jaskier, what are you doing ?” Geralt demanded, his face scrunched into a grimace, as if he was actually in pain.

He caught Jaskier’s other wrist as Jaskier tried to push him away with a hand on Geralt’s face. Despite the pain Jaskier felt and the fact that every muscle in his body cried out for him to stop , Jaskier pushed forward. The curse would not let him stop, and he seemed to be growing even stronger. Geralt was beginning to struggle to hold Jaskier’s hands back, their arms shaking with the effort they were both exuding.

He was going to kill Geralt. Jaskier had no control now, could do nothing to stop the way his body twisted and fought against Geralt. The only saving grace was Geralt’s superior strength. But how long would that hold? Jaskier had never been able to move his witcher unless Geralt willed it, and now even Geralt was starting to realize that Jaskier would not be stopped, perhaps could not be stopped.

Jaskier’s eyes squeezed shut, pressing hot tears out the corners, and his teeth clenched painfully. He had to stop. He could not, would not, hurt Geralt. No matter how angry or hurt Jaskier was, he could not hurt Geralt. He could not hurt Ciri, who was innocent in all this, and yet would be used as a pawn in whatever political game Nilfgaard was playing. Used like a pawn like Jaskier had been all his life.

“Geralt, Geralt, I can’t,” Jaskier tried, his breath beginning to come in loud gasps as he tried to stop his muscles. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I don’t want to--I have no choice--”

Geralt shook his head. Jaskier’s hips bucked, trying to knock Geralt off, and Geralt’s thighs tightened around him as he struggled to keep his hold.

“I lied to you!” Jaskier cried. “I lied so many times. All the time. I know--I know what Lazuli meant. He wanted me to tell my truth, and I’ve told so many lies, all I tell are lies and half truths. I told you you’re the only one I’m honest with, but it wasn’t true, it was never true.”

His bucking finally prevailed, and Geralt was thrown to the side. Jaskier’s body pressed forward, throwing the witcher more off-balance, until Geralt was stumbling off the bed to the ground. His hands released Jaskier’s wrists as he fell, but Jaskier followed after him, until he was the one straddling Geralt. The hand holding the dagger flung toward Geralt’s neck, and Geralt grabbed Jaskier’s wrist and his forearm, pushing Jaskier’s arm back with as much strength as Geralt could muster. Jaskier’s free arm braced itself on the hilt of the dagger, pressing his inhuman, cursed strength to push the dagger forward.

“Lazuli told me to tell my truth.” Tears fell from Jaskier’s face into Geralt’s hair. He was panicked, breathless, trying to get the words out as quickly as he could. “I love you, Geralt. That’s my truth. I love you .”

All fight left Jaskier suddenly, and he collapsed forward for a terrifying second before he caught himself. His fingers unwound from the dagger and it clattered to the floor beside Geralt’s head just a moment before Geralt shoved Jaskier back. Jaskier’s head collided with the post of the bedframe with a loud thunk and Jaskier crumpled against it as Geralt leapt to his feet.

“You tried to--”

Geralt was interrupted by the door flying open. Cirilla stood in the doorway, her eyes open as wide as her mouth as she took in the scene.

“I was--I was downstairs asking after the healer, then I heard fighting and--and-- what happened ?” Ciri sounded panicked and confused, her eyes fixed on Jaskier.

Jaskier pushed himself up, using the bed frame as support as he stared at his own hands, now moving of their own accord. He had only just gotten to his feet when Geralt turned on his heel and rushed out the room, grabbing Ciri by the wrist and dragging her out of the doorway and, presumably, out of the inn.

Jaskier could only stare dumbly at his hands, then at the dagger on the ground.

“I’m free,” he whispered, though no one was there to hear him.

read chapter 16

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier fanfic #geraskier fic #geraskier fanfiction #my writing #gerlion

[yv-sketches]

I've the how to your dragon series and the wizards of once books. Any recommendations for books to read that are similar?

Thank you so much for this question!! 😊

I’ll do my best to answer, however, English is not my native language, so I am not super familiar with the Great Middle Grade series that undoubtably exist. I also read too many non fiction books when I was younger

Here are a few books/book series I found enjoyable in a similar way. (The list is not super long and none of them feature dragons, sorry.)

Most of these are more like twoo, because they’re really good but can’t touch Cressida’s masterpiece. I cannot think of ANY book series that can compare to httyd’s philosophical three way war and grand finale.

(Click read more for a list of half baked book recommendations by me XD)

1 ~ The Care and Feeding of a Pet Black Hole - Michelle Cuevas

This is a stand alone that could easily be “How to take care for a pet black hole” written by Hiccup. It’s a short book, but it has the exact same dry and clever humour and becomes truly meaningful further into the story. The ending is bittersweet too.

This is probably the book I think has the most similar atmosphere to httyd. If you could collapse the emotions from httyd into 200 pages, this would be the closest matching result.

2 ~ Percy Jackson - Or literally anything by Rick Riordan

Rick Riordan is iconic and the only one who could win a ‘chapter title battle’ from Cressida. Examples: “My sword has a better social life than I do” or “A God buys us cheeseburgers” I am very ashamed to admit I have only read the first Percy Jackson book (I really should read the rest, you may sue me for not reading this iconic series) but I really liked it and from what I heard about the rest of the series it only gets better.

At least one crazy adventure each book, plenty of swordfights and a snappy protagonist to comment on everything. I’m not sure how to describe it accurately, but these books are written with the same hilarious tone as Cressida’s. You can read them out loud and they’d be funny I guess?

Also: Main characters with ADHD and dyslexia (looking at you Wish and Xar), characters from different countries, cultures and LGBT characters who have storylines outside of that characteristic. If you liked vikings, Magnus Chase is his triology about demigod children of Norse gods (though long series probably won’t bother you as httyd book fan).

3 ~ Cogheart - Peter Bunzl

These books are fun steampunk adventures. The setting is vaguely historical, but with victorians instead of vikings, pesky adults who don’t listen to children very well and an unusual pet companion. There’s also a secondary storyline about how beings with human intelligence are treated as lesser, and it’s treated important enough without overshadowing the main plot.

I’ve read the first two and so far it’s a series where you can read each book separate (though the first few httyd books could also be read as separates). There are two more and perhaps the secondary citizen issue will end up being the overarching plot?

4 ~ How to Become King - Jan Terlouw

The clue is in the title. The main character wants to become king, but has to complete 7 impossible tasks first. It does not get more straightforward than that.

The book does not have Cressida’s ridiculous humour, but the main character is Pure Good like Hiccup and each impossible quest actually has a lot of depth to it. A big part of the story emphasizes how humility and kindness are the things that make a good king. It’s a pretty old book and probably the most unknown one on this list.

5 ~ The Slightly Alarming Tale of the Whispering Wars - Jaclyn Moriarty

(I own a signed copy of this and the author was so nice) It is the second book set in this world, but with new characters. She said it can be read on its own, but perhaps it could be a bit confusing if you haven’t read the first. I hadn’t read the first and I was confused.

The absolute highlight of this book was the narration. There are two narrators who take turn narrating, and while doing so they comment on each other. They argue with each other and quip about how they do a better job narrating. It makes you feel like you’re part of the story too, similarly how Hiccup addresses the reader and comments on his younger self.

6 ~ Artemis Fowl - Eoin Colfer

Did anybody say fiendishly clever plan? When it comes to cheating death and trickery, Artemis Fowl is Hiccup and Xar’s long lost sibling. Except.... he is not as nice. To quote Camicazi: “You see, [I] have no morals at all. It's very useful...”

Where Hiccup was a Pure Cinnamon Roll and Xar an emotional hotheaded disaster, Artemis is a straight up bastard who cares for only four (4) people in total.

It’s very reminiscent of the earlier httyd books. Silly schemes, potty humour and characters that walk a fine line between likeable and annoying. I have not read the entire series yet, but the characters slowly mature with each book.

7 ~ Ella Enchanted - Gail Carson Levine

This is more of a twisted fairytale like twoo and not a fantasy epic like httyd. It’s the story of a girl on an impossible quest in a fantasy world. There are a lot of fairytale tropes, but I really liked how the extremely complex kingdom fit into one book.

It’s the only book on this list where different languages are a major plot point, and there is an inequality problem with some creatures, similar to the wild dragons in httyd. The ending can’t compare to the satisfying yet bittersweet solution of book 12. It’s a fairytale happily ever after and certainly easier on the heart than httyd.

? ~ Anything by Roald Dahl

Everyone knows Roald Dahl, which is why this is probably an useless recommendation. His books are funny, crazy and sometimes a bit grim, but always great. What else can I say?

? ~ The gentleman’s guide to vice and virtue - Mackenzi Lee

Ok, this one is by no means a middle grade book. More like 15+. (There is violence and romance is a major plotline. Both the violence and romance are 15+, and while I did not find it too bad, it might not be for everyone)

However, it has almost all of the ingredients of a Cressida book. I really felt like I should include it because it belongs somewhere high on this list! On the surface it’s a whacky adventure with a sassy protagonist in a somewhat historical fantasy setting. Below that surface, it deals with major issues in an absolutely beautiful way.

The quotes are artistic, and this is the ONLY ya book I’ve ever read with messages that hit as hard and are written as subtly as the ones in the httyd books. (I have read books more beautiful, and books with greater messages than this one, but the serious parts were woven into the story in such a refined way.... I’ve only read that in Cressida’s books.)

Mind you, the protagonist is more of a Disaster Boy ™ than Xar and I wanted to slap him sometimes. Like Xar, he learns and gets better.

~

A few other books I should mention

Coraline by Neil Gaiman. The story is not similar to httyd and twoo at. all. which is why it’s not on the list. However, this is the ultimate book about not-so-great parents. Hiccup and the entire twoo gang can relate. Just a heads up: this is a somewhat scary story. Cressida doesn’t shy away from suspense and terrifying details, but in Coraline, the suspense is one of the main aspects.

A series of unfortunate events from Lemony Snicket. I haven’t read this, but I still want to. From what I’ve heard it’s a sarcastic adventure series that’s a lot more serious than it looks.

I have never read this series either, I do not even know what it’s about, but I’ve heard people from the httyd books fandom talk about it: Keeper of the lost cities by Shannon Messenger.

~

I hope this list was the kind of answer you were hoping for!

If you are looking for better recommendations, there are a lot of httyd book fans who can give you some, like @books-are-like-dragons @thefellowshipofthedragonmark @httydbooks-doodler .

#ask #books #tggtvav

[slasherscream]

if you're still taking V requests could I have a lil black!reader and V with reader getting some comfort while they're depressed :']

it really buttered my egg-roll to write this

v x black!reader ft. // soft comfort

He notices everything about you. 

It is such a luxury to have another living, breathing person in the shadow gallery and he doesn’t take it for granted.

He observes you constantly, consciously and unconsciously. How will this interact with Y/N? Would Y/N enjoy this? They’re wrinkling their nose again what could be the matter? 

You are a fixture in his life now. A constant, when for so long the only constant he has kept has been his rage, his vengeance, his mission. 

To neglect you in any way would be a crime.

So yes he notices from the very start when you begin to wilt like a flower without sunlight. You try to hide it but there’s no hiding how the gallery begins to lack the usual lightness you bring to it. 

You were so taken by his home the moment he’d spirited you away. Enchanted with its treasures and beauty. And he knows it is beautiful. Full of beautiful and rare things - but when you first took everything in         smiling from ear to ear? It became merely a reflection of your own loveliness and vibrancy.

It dulls as your happiness does. 

From the jukebox plays a crooning old school tune that you listen listlessly to from your spot on the couch. It’s one of your favorites but the energy is wrong. You aren’t engaged by it. Eyes closed, mouth turned down into a frown, and each breath you take seeming utterly forced. An effort just to breathe and an effort just to be living.

V takes all of this in and decides it would be ….inappropriate for him to allow this to continue on. He would be beside himself if you mistook him trying to respect your space and boundaries for not taking note of your suffering. For not caring.

He tries to make noise as he approaches you. The last thing he wants to do is startle you and you’ve taken to asking him if he walks on air because he is, in fact - always managing to startle you. At the sounds of footsteps you open your eyes and glance his way.

Your expression shifts only slightly but the fact that you look even slightly less miserable just upon seeing him is …..well it’s- 

“You’re back.” You say, sounding tired.

“I’m back.” V echoes as he moves to sit beside you. 

You shift as if to be further out of his way, legs curling up to be closer to the rest of your body. He can feel the warm imprint you left on the cushion, probably from hours of remaining still and unmoving.

His hands flutter uselessly for a moment before he settles them on his lap. He’d wanted to ….touch you, that he knows (he thinks of it, of settling his hands over your legs. Of using his hands to pull your legs - gently - back over his own, where he could simply… touch you and then he must imagine a world where you would enjoy being touched by him as much as he would enjoy touching you) . But that is not ….the point of what V wants to do. That is just an instinct that grows in him with each passing day. One that must be ignored as best he can. 

“Might I pose a question?” He says, eyes focused solely upon you from beneath the safety of his mask. It is the only reason he ever feels so comfortable looking at you so bravely, so openly. 

“Of course.”

“Are you - are you unhappy here?” He is momentarily startled by how quickly you spring into a sitting position. He is warmed by the force with which you deny his question and a tension leaves his shoulders that he hadn’t known was there. That’s troubling but staunchly ignored (like so many of his feelings regarding you).

“Why do you think that?” You ask, still frowning. 

Silence settles in the room, aside from the songs still playing from the jukebox. All the ones you’d selected sounding ….melancholy without the usual accompaniment of your dancing and enthusiastic singing.  

“Ah.” You say, laughing in a way that’s distinctly unhappy. “It’s nothing you did - it’s nothing at all really it’s just - I’ve always had … low moments like this where I just can’t seem to be happy." 

More silence until, "Is there anything I can do to lift your spirits?" 

You are about to shake your head, touched by his concern but unwilling to allow your misery to spread. You know this is just something that you’ll have to let pass. But then you think (the music is still playing - just the right kind for dancing. For holding someone close. Lovingly. It’s been so long since you’ve been held.) -

"You’ve thought of something.” V leans forward, focused on the way he’d seen an idea drift over your face before you’d shaken your head and tried to rid yourself of it. “Please - seeing you so unhappy is nearly unbearable. If there’s something I can do - anything I can do, I’ll do it." 

The statement lingers in the air with such a passion you have to look away from his mask. You feel watched in a way that makes your skin burn. 

"You could….Would you dance with me?” Your eyes focus firmly onto some bit of priceless, stolen memorabilia in the farthest corner of the room. 

“That would make you happy?” You manage to nod and then try not to tense when you feel, more than see, him get up from the couch. You’re half afraid he’ll leave you alone. A quiet mockery of your request. But that’s just the dark part of your mind talking to you.

V would never do anything so cruel and furthermore, his heart feels like it’s trying to escape from his chest even as he steps before you and bows in a way that’s both over dramatic and entirely charming. “May I have this dance?" 

You can’t help the small laugh as you slide your hand into his waiting one. You wonder if he can feel the way your pulse races (he can. His hand so much bigger than yours, his fingers brush across and wrap around your wrist and it only makes his own pulse race ever faster–) "You may.”

He guides you smoothly to the center of the room and a new song starts up as if waiting for his cue. The voice of a crooning Ella Fitzgerald begins to sing the classic and now illegal version of “Someone to Watch Over Me”. You both relax and stiffen at the familiar tune. It feels a little too on the nose.

He could spend the rest of his life watching over you, he thinks.What would it be like? To be loved like that- you wonder.

There is a distance between the two of you that is uncomfortable and one of you must take the plunge to eliminate it. You are the one to do so. Already so miserable and tired you thoughtlessly seek out the rest of the comfort you think you’ll find in his company. There’s a moment where he stops breathing when you step more fully into his space, the circle of his arms. Now you can feel the human warmth of him from underneath his costume. He can feel yours as well and after a stuttered breath his arms wrap more firmly around you. He begins to move you in smooth and soothing circles. 

You continue to surprise him by resting your head on his shoulder. He knows he’s imagining the tickle of your curls against his neck and underside of his chin, his clothing is too thick for that - but it’s the nicest thing his imagination has ever conjured, the phantom feeling of your hair that has always looked so soft. 

He glances at the hand still tucked into his own, gloved one and tries not to think about how your brown skin might look against his own (it’s a terrifying thought just as much as it is a ….one that fills him with-) 

Slowly he tucks you closer, a hand settling at your waist that he tries not to make feel …proprietary, even though it does ignite something fiercely possessive in him. You make a noise that sounds heavy with contentment and he thinks some of the gallery’s light is starting to return. 

#v x reader #v for vendetta imagine #v for vendetta x reader #v for vendetta #black!reader #this really did become...fic didn't it #goooood i KNOW v is an asshole but he is ALSO the most romantic asshole on earth

[letterboxd]

Touching the Void.

Searching for cinema that soothes? Ella Kemp suggests it could be as simple as looking for a film poster with a white background.

How many weeks has it been? When did any of us last go blindly into a cinema and take a chance on something new? Film-watching in the time of Covid-19 has changed. The immediate and never-ending news of the world is frightening. Is it still, and more than ever, okay for me to sink into movies to alleviate my mood, just for a bit? How is that even possible when the world has come to a standstill?

We are forced to adapt, and it has taken some time for my attention span and emotional capacity to adjust. But I think I might have found a solution, and I have the meticulous list-makers of Letterboxd to thank. It was Izzy’s list of comfort movies that first lit the fuse. Specifically, the second, third and fourth row; films including Billy Elliot, Clueless, School of Rock.

Fifteen stark posters, speaking one truth: We are vulnerable and nervous. What we need is a film poster with a white background to assure us the movie exists entirely to serve and soothe us.

Part of Izzy’s ‘comfort movies’ list.

List-making on Letterboxd has never been more prolific. Pandemic movies, overdue filmography catch-ups, comfort movies galore. Everyone categorizes and logs their watches differently, but Izzy’s pattern speaks to me with an epiphanic answer. I’ve always admired successful color-coding, but now I see its crucial function.

As I scroll for distraction, for something guaranteed to be good (because I cannot and will not be subject to any uncertainty I can avoid), I see the rainbow. The pale blues of Studio Ghibli, Wong Kar-wai’s passionate reds, the pastels of Netflix Original breezy romances. Like some kind of cinematic ikebana, countless Letterboxd members have mastered the art of arranging film posters. There are standouts: the staggering oeuvre that is Gordon’s chromatic roundup of favorite posters; the comprehensive color-graded history of women directors via their best posters, courtesy of Vanessa; and the penchant for beige in the year 2015, as spotted by Letterboxd co-founder Matthew Buchanan.

A selection of Gordon’s favorite movie posters.

But when I see these 300 examples, color-coded by typography and accents by Sera Ash, I recognize that white movie posters are the ones most likely, in this very strange time, to take care of me. I see it in three distinct filmmaking periods: Disney animations from the 1940s and 50s, the video marketing for cult comedies of the 1980s and 90s, and the alternative marketing materials of my favorite films of the 2010s. Each poster is straightforward and inoffensive. It captures the story, but never dares to impress or intimidate beyond basic description.

A 1975 re-release poster for ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’ (1937).

In 1937, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs announced the birth of Walt Disney’s feature-length empire. While its original theatrical poster is also mostly white, it is represented on Letterboxd by a 1975 re-release poster depicting a peek through the keyhole: a curved triangle framing Snow White, the dwarves, and the two sides of the jealous queen, against a vivid green forest. In the bottom corner, a castle. To the left, the title—her name in red cursive, theirs in black. These simple images come together to present an elementary summary of the ingredients within. The white frame showcases the seminal animation craft without suggesting the viewer diverts their eye anywhere else.

This technique was common across other animated titles, collected in lists like dantebk’s Disney animated classics. Pinocchio toys with the hyperreal relationships between characters alive and wooden, human and animal—but does so on a plain canvas, so that the magic remains within reach. Dumbo, Bambi, Cinderella, Peter Pan—each follows suit. Whether with the mustard yellow of a circus tent, the faint sketches of grass tufts, the gold dust of an enchanted fairy godmother or the ink blue of a midnight starry sky, these colors (indicative of each defining scene-setter or mood-maker) only pepper a blank background, and so make their significance ever greater with the most sporadic touches.

A selection from dantebk’s list of Disney animated classics.

Live-action knockouts from these decades—films like The Shop Around The Corner and The Red Shoes—embrace painted recreations of their protagonists (Margaret Sullivan and James Stewart as festive lovers in the former, Moira Shearer as a tortured ballerina in the latter) and use the color red as a signifier of romance, against a plain white page, to set the mood. Slashes and splashes of red have been used to create a vibe in genre cinema for many decades—a trend deftly chronicled in this list by Rocks.

As far as we know, the underpinnings of digital photography began in the 1950s, and the first published color digital photograph dates back to 1972, when Michael Francis Tompsett shot a photo of his wife Margaret for the cover of Electronics magazine. Consumers got their hands on the gear in the late 1990s, but movie studios really started to make the most of sharp digital photography and stark white backgrounds for their striking posters from the late 1980s onwards. Because, never mind the multiplex, the video store is where you wanted your comfort fare to stand out in the 1980s and 90s.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off (1986) and Say Anything… (1989) form a handsome, trend-setting 1980s pair. While the theatrical poster for Cameron Crowe’s Say Anything… deigned to include John Cusack’s co-star, Ione Skye, by the time of the film’s video release, the focus is clearly on pre-High Fidelity Cusack, as proud underachiever Lloyd Dobler, smouldering lopsidedly under the weight of a boombox. It’s the singular image of the film to this day.

Meanwhile, Matthew Broderick as Ferris-slacking-Bueller is making the most of his title activity, arms behind his head, a proud smirk on his face. Nothing else matters except that these charismatic young stars are stepping up to leading-man status. The white background accentuates the star power of these new boys in town, embracing the limelight in one fell swoop.

Star power is everything: beautiful people doing simple things against empty backdrops, because what could be more important than the regularity of symmetrical bone structure, of familiar charm? The trend boomed in the 1990s and 2000s, in films widely embraced by casual moviegoers. The sort who list “watching Netflix” as a Sunday activity on dating profiles and use the Christmas holidays to rewatch comedies they have memorized over dozens of half-attentive viewings (absolutely zero judgement here!).

The vast majority of these films have white posters. Who is your soothing cup of charm: Tom Hanks on a bench, nothing more nothing less, from 1994’s Forrest Gump? Or Heath Ledger, effortlessly cool, leaning on the brown corduroy armchair Julia Stiles sits in for the 10 Things I Hate About You poster from 1999? (The 90s harnessed the increased appeal of having two lookers just sitting and posing against a plain background, as demonstrated in this chilling list by Ashley.)

Ashley’s list of couples posing in front of a white background.

Will Ferrell had been earning his stripes as an actor for years, but he changed the movie comedy game as Buddy the Elf in 2003. There’s plenty of visual humour in Elf, but Ferrell’s coat-stand posture bedecked in festive green velvet and those tights is… enough. A white background lets the ridicule slide, just.

How many Disney series really deserve a whole movie—and one that stands the test of time? Lizzie McGuire, resting on her tiptoes with a swinging suitcase in hand, sells The Lizzie McGuire Movie like no idyllic views of Rome ever could. It’s reaching out to an audience loyal to the character, one who will follow her to the ends of the Earth, or at least to another continent. Hilary Duff could be doing almost anything on this poster and it would achieve the same effect—so long as the white background remains plain enough to keep eagle-eyed fans on the main event at all times.

It’s surprising that the star-making system only let Meryl Streep appear in a tiny box, one of four character tiles, on the poster for The Devil Wears Prada in 2006. But the design here taps into 1940s animated sensibilities, giving prominence to a devilish red Macguffin larger than the humans. It still achieves the same function—a glossy, glamorous design with the accessible sell of a quotable, star-fuelled comedy.

Red may be the color of romance and the devil; it’s also the color of comedy. Exhibit A: the 2007 gross-out comedy Superbad, whose star power—marking the emergence of Jonah Hill and Michael Cera—is used to an opposite and impressive effect on its poster. The awkwardness of these teen boys—lanky, unkempt, insecure—is what cinches the comedy. The simplicity of the poster design, with their uncomfortable posture against, well, nothing at all, further anchors their incapability of facing the world in any confident way, shape or form.

There are countless more examples, like Marley & Me, Bridesmaids, 27 Dresses (notice how the red type is replaced by pink when the film’s plot veers toward the altar). But to understand the curious and timeless appeal of the white movie poster, what happened to it in the 2010s cements its adaptable strength.

As the art of graphic design has continued to bloom, the aesthetic argument for the colorless color-block movie poster has shifted to embrace a film’s context. Consider Danny Boyle’s Steve Jobs, the enjoyable 2015 drama that provided Michael Fassbender one of the most under-celebrated roles of his career, playing the late Apple co-founder. The poster turns the canvas into a blank screen: the title is typed, the text insertion point poised, waiting for the next key press. As Jobs, Fassbender occupies the bottom right corner, in profile, thinking.

This starkness makes sense: what’s next, Steve? It offers a rare example of a poster from the past decade that fully leans into the monochrome aesthetic entirely on purpose—to serve the restrained and unequivocal need for white. (And it’s interesting to compare with the marketing narrative for an earlier film about another tech leader: observe how Jesse Eisenberg’s Mark Zuckerberg eyeballs us from The Social Network’s dark-mode poster.)

Comfort movies don’t own the white poster, of course. Jordan Peele’s Get Out toys, both in its marketing and its delivery, with the binaries of black and white. It’s deployed on-screen with sophisticated horror, and this extends to its two most graphic poster variants.

While one poster sees Daniel Kaluuya’s character, Chris, sat on a chair split vertically between black and white, the all-white poster allows only a center-frame letterbox to reveal Chris’s enormous eyes, accompanied by an all-caps type treatment. The vast expanse of white only makes the image more menacing, framing the claustrophobia so effectively. The landscape crop is a device that defines stern dramas as much as arthouse comedies, as documented by Haji Abdul Karim in their expansive list.

Haji Abdul Karim’s list of white-with-landscape-image posters.

But back in the ‘comfort’ realm, we’re seeing more and more that the marketing wants to have it both ways—the negative with the positive; the art house audience and the multiplex crowd. As genres blend, demographics collapse and audiences become more fluid, a film’s advertising needs to speak more languages.

Two ultra-comfort films from last year demonstrate this idea well. The poster for Judy sees a backlit Renée Zellweger finding her light, receiving her applause. Black is the key color, right down to the classic little black dress; the eye is drawn to the title, spelled out in red sequins. It’s showbiz, it’s drama. Though the film itself fudges a few of the more uncomfortable facts of the star’s story, it’s still honest about her addictions.

In the white-background version, which was more widely distributed, Zellweger, in a floral dress, turns away from the light. The name still sparkles, but in softened gold. There’s no less glamor, the stakes in the film are just as high, but she’s perhaps more accessible like this. The focus, as it was in the 90s, 80s, 40s, returns to the main event.

Greta Gerwig’s Little Women, too, played with dark and light. The indie queen released her previous film, Lady Bird, via design-conscious distributor A24, and Gerwig’s singular aesthetics promised that her Little Women remake would be worlds away from all the others. But when the first images for the film were released, the marketing campaign was questioned by die-hard Gerwig fans.

Both of the group posters are curiously stripped back, freezing Louisa May Alcott’s beloved March sisters in a moment. In the darker image, they gaze out a window, secure in their festive domestic bubble, but set on what’s beyond. There’s more to life, and the film, than this room. It feels more lush, painterly, certainly more dramatic.

Whereas the white poster, at first, seemed like a mistake. It took one of the first images teased from the film and just... dropped it onto a poster. The March sisters look as if solidified by clay, entirely undynamic and at odds with the fluidity and warm soul Gerwig had made herself known for in her filmmaking.

And yet, nothing matters more than these characters. Beth, Jo, Meg and Amy are holding each other, happy, each in their own favourite color, and there is nothing more to fight over. The white-poster alternative lets the 2010s viewer stay attached to the most important part of the film.

The lessons here? A white poster is a vital sign that you’re safe here. You’ve made the correct choice. Attention spans are dwindling, options are expanding, focus is difficult. The promise of a white frame tells me what matters, what is good, where I should place my time and my value. For now.

#movie poster art #poster design #film poster #film poster design #movie marketing #movie design #white posters #comfort movies #comfort films #letterboxd lists #Letterboxd #little women #judy #ferris bueller #disney #graphic design

[my-swan-song]

Kotlc: Easter Egg Hunt

Title: Keeper Crew’s Easter

Word Count: 1105

Note: @ellas-enchanted​ was like: foxfire egg hunt? And I was like: well now I have to do it. So, thanks for the idea, Ella. Also, keep in mind that I wrote this in like two hours, so the prose and pacing aren’t the best. And beware of bunny puns. Sorry for any grammar.

Sophie wasn’t sure if she regretted introducing her friends to Easter or not. As she looked into the mirror she was leaning more towards regret. Bunny ears; she was wearing bunny ears. Somehow a combination of Biana insisting that it would be cute and Keefe’s constant begging had convinced her to wear bunny ears.

Sophie scowled at the mirror. She’d curled her hair at the request of Vertina, but in her opinion, she just looked like a rich pony with far too large ears.

“Wow, Foster,” she heard Keefe’s voice from her doorway. “Your glare is really hare-raising.”

Sophie turned around and saw him, Biana, Dex, and Fitz standing at the front of her room, all wearing bunny ears. At least she wouldn’t have to suffer alone. Biana had actually decided to draw a bunny nose and whiskers on her face. “How many bunny puns are you going to make today, Keefe?”

He put on a somewhat evil grin. “I don’t know, but I made a list yesterday. You want me to read them.”

“Not at all.” Sophie picked up her basket, walked through her room’s door, and said, “Edaline’s probably done hiding the eggs.” She made a motion for her friends to follow her down. 

When she had offhandedly mentioned the Easter Bunny a few weeks ago, she was first worried that one of her friends would say that it was based on a giant rodent that had escaped rehabilitation, but her friends had decided that they wanted to have a hunt. So Sophie had spent time with Edaline painting fake eggs before her mom sent her away while she presumably put things in the eggs and hid them.

Sophie opened Havenfield’s front doors and let the fresh air hit her in the face. 

Edaline walked up to them. “There are seventy-five eggs out here. Whoever finds the most eggs wins.”

Sophie suddenly felt the need to win this. Actually, it would almost be embarrassing if she didn’t. After all, she had far more experience with egg hunts than anyone else here. Plus, the egg hunt was taking place in her home, so she had the advantage of familiarity. Sophie made a mental list of all the likely hiding spots; in Verdie’s pen, in the branches of the panakes tree, that one bush Luna liked to sit inside sometimes.

Edaline signaled for everyone to start and all of Sophie’s friends scattered across the Havenfield property. 

Sophie thought for a moment and began to levitate. Not to teleport, just high enough that she got a good view of Havenfield from above. Sandor made a few attempts to call her back down, but Sophie was determined. When she reached about forty feet in the air she stopped going any higher and scanned the pastures. 

Immediately, she spotted an egg stuffed into the branches of a tree in a pasture and another on the shore near the waters by Havenfeild. She looked for her friends to gauge their progress. Most of her friends hadn’t gotten any eggs, but Dex had one and he seemed to be looking around for another. She had to speed up.

Sophie lowered herself to the grass and ran to the tree she had seen an egg in. She channeled her energy into her legs and jumped up onto a low-hanging branch. One she stabilized herself, she slowly hauled herself onto her legs. The egg was withing reach. She held onto the bark of the tree with one hand and reached for the egg with another (she’ll take a potato chip and eat it?), and cautiously grabbed the egg. 

She let out a sigh of relief as she jumped down and put the egg in her basket. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Keefe flailing wildly as he struggled to locate an egg. When their gazes met, Sophie shot him a grin and held up her basket.

“Oh come on, Foster,” Keefe said. “You don’t have to rabbit in.”

Sophie could practically hear the groans from the sitcom audience she had made up in her head. She rolled her eyes and headed over to the Ocean’s shore where she had seen the other egg

She picked it up, examining it for a moment before she placed it in her basket. 

Sophie and her friends spent the next thirty minutes hunting until they wound up with Sophie and Dex being tied with sixteen eggs, Fitz having fourteen, Biana having fifteen, and Keefe having thirteen

There was still one egg left and she and Dex were both fighting for it. Or rather they were both dashing around the Havenfield pastures while trying to find it. 

Sophie scanned the area around her once more, wondering at this point if Edaline had made a mistake when she counted the number of eggs when she finally spotted the last one out of the corner of her eye, sitting in a bush.

She noticed Dex begin to follow her eye line. She started sprinting towards the egg, with Dex following at her heels. As they both sprinted towards the egg, the world seemed to slow around Sophie. She could see Dex’s shadow behind her, beginning to catch up. But she wasn’t going to lose. 

Sophie channeled strength to her legs, she felt the familiar sensation of energy building up around her. Excitement bubbled up in her. The air around her seemed to tingle on her skin. After a moment of build-up, she heard a loud crackle and felt herself shoot into the void. 

After a split-second, Sophie reappeared several yards ahead of her previous spot, the egg right in front of her. She clamped her hands over the egg, Dex appearing next to her moments later. It took her a few beats to realize that she had actually won. She cradled her egg, putting it in her basket as, delicately, as if it were a baby.

She thought it was mildly anticlimactic when nothing else really happened. Although, Keefe did tease her about how he knew she would win and Biana and Fitz gave her a smile.

Edaline walked up to her and Dex. A group of her other friends had formed around her. “Do you want to open your eggs?” her mom asked.

Sophie nodded. She and all of her friends looked at each other for a moment before they all opened their eggs. Small glittering butterflies erupted out. 

Sophie watched, entranced, as the holographic butterflies swirled all around her and her friends. A grin was plastered on her face. At that moment, she even forgot about the bunny ears. No, she didn’t regret this.

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kotlc fanfic #keeper of the lost cities fanfic