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motthe · 8 months ago

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I know probably everyone has asked tis but- how about a smoll blurb on S2 Viktor and reader in the lumen au? Maybe reader also tries to bury themselves by helping Jayce or Mel (I’m more inclined to Mel in particular)

thank you so much for requesting! (the inbox is currently empty so you’re the first to request!!! how exciting~)

SPOILERS FROM ARCANE S2 ARC 1

Days went by, each longer than the last. Neither you nor Jayce had anything to show for it besides the lab left in ruins and dark circles weighing your eyes down.

You two had never been particularly close, always busy running in different circles, but you shared the same important people in your lives. What Mel was to him, Viktor was to you and vice versa. Mel was your confidant and Viktor was his—truly it would make more sense for you and Jayce to be closer. Then again, Viktor hadn’t been all that interested in befriending Mel either.

Not all circles merged, it seemed.

“How is he?” Jayce asked every morning, hovering by the cot you’d taken in the corner of the room. You stopped responding on the third, holding Viktor’s lumen out from where you kept it cradled to your chest.

In the wake of Jayce’s last ditch effort to save him, all that was left of Viktor’s soul was a wispy bronze overtaken by that violaceous magic that had swirled within the hexcore. Where it had been the size of your palm, now it barely filled the center, a few millimeters bigger than the hex tech gemstones.

It was brighter than it had ever been, but that tawny gold that had dulled to a muddied brown in the rise of his illness—that lumen you would know blind—had been stripped away.

He was still alive. That pulsing block encasing him had left his face bare, his breath stable. But whatever it was doing to his body was blurred. You could see the outline of his arms and legs, thin but prominent.

Whatever was going on in there reflected on his lumen, as it barely remained conscious. He couldn’t fly. Where he loved to sit between your neck and shoulder had become cold as he didn’t have the strength to hold on. The warmth of him remained, and some days he managed to move, always wiggling deeper into your palm.

Your heart kept breaking. If someone took a stethoscope to your chest they might only hear the crunch of glass with each breath. It might soon be dust if nothing changed.

Your name brought you out of an empty sleep, a warm hand brushing back hair in desperate need of a wash. The cold metal of a ring had tears filling your eyes.

“Mel,” you whispered, opening your eyes to her gentle features.

“Oh, dearest,” she murmured, throwing her arm around you as you curled tighter, shoulders shaking. It took so much energy to cry, you wish you wouldn’t.

“Where’s their lumen?” You were drifting as you watched Mel turn from Viktor’s prison. “Was it—?”

“No. It’s there.” He gestured to a metal birdcage he’d taken from one of the academy classrooms. Your lumen was inside, pressed against the side facing Viktor. “I put it as close to him as I could.”

“Jayce,” she said, words hardened. “Take it out of that. Now.”

“I can’t!” he breathed, running his hand through his hair. “It keeps trying to go to him and whatever the hexcore did could end up absorbing their lumen, too. This was the best I could do!”

“Put them in a cage?!”

“Mel,” you murmured from your corner. She turned, eyes brought with fury. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not!” Her nostrils flared, her hands waving towards you. “Look at you! You’re sick.”

“I’m heartbroken,” you said, holding Viktor’s lumen impossibly closer.

“They’re injured,” Jayce explained, guiding Mel to the other side of the birdcage. The council woman choked on a gasp as she lowered, taking in the vein-like strips of purple worming out from your lumen. “It tried to take it in. I managed to pull it out of the vortex before the hexcore did that to Viktor.”

Mel rushed back to you, looking you over. You smiled weakly, lifting your shirt where that same injury pulsed under your ribcage.

“It doesn’t hurt as bad anymore,” you promised.

“But it’s not healing,” Jayce pointed out, “and Viktor hasn’t shown any signs of waking up.”

“Heimerdinger?” Mel asked, running her fingers through your hair again. Your eyes closed, tension ebbing away just a bit.

“Missing,” whispered Jayce. “I can’t find him anywhere.”

Their voices strung together, tones bleeding into one persistent hum. You were exhausted. Everything took so much out of you, even breathing. It was as if you could sense each trickle of energy as if left. All the while, that stain on your side grew hotter.

So tired, you thought and fell back into an empty slumber filled with the distant sound of something gurgling.

Viktor woke abruptly, his name echoing somewhere just out of reach. Every movement was hindered, the sensation too uncomfortable to stay in as he struggled to freedom. His hands emerged first, his first step bringing him to his knees. He was used to that.

But not this. Not these limbs, deadened and stripped to muscles trickling with the color that stained the black behind his eyes. The metal of his back brace had combined with the flesh, just as the one on his leg had done with the hexcore experiment. His palms and knees scraped the ground like prongs on porcelain.

He stared at his hands, finding his breath and processing the sensations. Retracing his steps had him in the council room—votes entering the air, Jayce’s hope-filled smile as he turned to Miss Medara and that refraction of light as glass shattered.

Viktor stared at his hands, not anything like they were, when they shielded your lumen from the onslaught of something. An explosion?

Where are you? he thought and passed that ethereal purring in his head, something rattled.

His head turned and blearily, he made out a cage just shy of his foot. Your lumen, flushed against the bars, flashed in worried little increments.

He groaned, pushing back into his calves as he reached, dragging the cage to him. The simple lock flicked open and the small hinges nearly broke as you burst out, burying into his cheek. The cage lied abandoned as he held you, a new strength in him as he spied his cane and Jayce out-cold on the desk nearby.

Your lumen slid from his cheek. He just managed to catch it before it dropped from the air and it’s then he saw the new color bleeding out, purple veins trailing from a spot at your center.

Viktor…

He swiveled, eyes widening at the body curled on a cot against the wall. Even under a blanket he knew your outline, your hair falling off the edge of the cheap bed. Your face was tucked into your chest, one hand outstretched towards his prison, fingers brushing the floor.

Grabbing his cane, he didn’t bother to watch as it elongated under his touch. Now a staff, it brought him to you, dead to the world as he tilted your head back, brushing the hair from your sickly colored skin.

A light drew his attention to the cover over you. Peeking out from beneath was his lumen, changed and pressed against your skin where your shirt had ridden up. The same scar on your lumen pierced your side, the color of the veins flashing as he brought his hand closer to observe.

The memory of Sky cut into him. Those colors pulling at her face as she disintegrated into dust.

The hexcore had attempted to take you.

“Vik…tor?” Your eyes fluttered, breathing mere puffs as you tried to focus on him.

“Be still,” he murmured, the voice strange in his ears. “I must fix this.”

His palm smoothed over the stain, his other hand holding your lumen as white wisps curled around them. He took a breath, fingers quivering. A blinding light flashed through his eyes. Your back arched as if pained, your weak cry echoing.

Jayce’s voice called for you as you dropped onto the cot, panting.

“Viktor?”

He ignored him, taking in the silver scared lines left behind on your side and lumen. It floated from his palm, twirling as if shaking off the excess energy.

You sat up with a gasp, crumbling off the cot into him. He wrapped his arms around you, a memorized response. The warmth he knew from you was the same and yet it did not seep into him as it once did. The sensations were all distant.

“Viktor,” you whispered into his neck, clutching him. He stared down your back at his arms. Holding a hand up.

“What…am I?” he questioned.

“You’re alive!” shouted Jayce, kneeling next to him with a hand on his shoulder.

Viktor wasn’t sure if that was the answer he needed, but as you pulled back and looked up at him, there was a…charge. Familiar, yet new.

Whatever he was, if he could still be with you, perhaps it wasn’t all that bad.

#arcane #arcane spoilers #arcane season 2 #arcane viktor #arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x gn!reader #lumen au #fic content #arcane content #viktor #viktor league of legends #viktor lol #viktor arcane #lol x reader #masterlist

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hysterical-honey · 2 months ago

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Tastes Like Honey

Tastes Like Honey - Swallow

Maddie Nolen × Fem! Reader Ao3 Word Count: 3,090 Summary: A cozy day in with your sweet enforcer girlfriend. TWS:// 18+ ONLY, Reader is AFAB, Reader uses she/her, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Vague time and place within the story but before the events of S2, Porn no Plot, Top! Maddie, Overstimulation, Choking, Cunnilingus + fingering, Scissoring, Size Difference, reader is taller, Dirty Talk, nipple play, Rough Sex, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Dom/sub Undertones, No beta we die like men, No use of y/n. A/N: Request from an Anon!! Hope u like it :3

It was a warm, showery Saturday evening. Grey clouds were heavy and imposing in the sky. The overbearing aroma of spice and cedar was heavy and haughty in the air of your girlfriend's apartment. Eight months you've been together, only four have been 'official,' still within that sweet honeymoon phase of romance. The little tomato timer in your hands makes a careful 'click—click—click' as you pull the top half to the correct time. The scent of cinnamon and salted butter is still present on your freshly washed hands; placing the timer down before peeking over at Maddie, Junior Officer, as she loved to introduce herself more often than not, even unprompted.

"Lamb, could you fetch me a bottle?" Her voice was soft as she smiled at you. "In the cabinet with the wee glass door." She nods her head in the direction you can't quite resist placing a kiss on the crown of her head. A precious chortle is your reward.

"Of course, what exactly am I fetching?" you'd inquire, walking over and pulling the glass doors apart, the shuddering sound of the wood framing hitting the glass.

"Rum, it should be in the back."

"Rum might be too bitter," you'd mumble, a little counter that would make Maddie hum as if to think. "Wine, maybe?" A particular bottle would catch your attention. It was a fat, round crimson bottle sealed with a whirl of gold and silver foil that encircled what seemed to be a cork. Dusk coated the exposed glass. A foreign language was printed delicately on the label—it looked like Noxian. "Damn, that junior officer paycheck brings it in, huh?" You'd hold it up, voice playful and maybe a little curious. Maddie would look over her shoulder; for a split second, you could see the shock in her eyes before it melted away as she turned her attention back to the stovetop. Perhaps you might've noticed the look of momentary uncertainty, but your attention was focused entirely on the bottle as you examined it. The ginger would amble away from the stove and over to where you remained on your knees in front of the cabinet.

"It was a gift after my graduation, actually..." Taking the large, chubby bottle from your hands, looking over the label almost appreciatively. As if to reminisce about a fond memory before pulling herself out of it. "This'll do peachy, lamb. Noxian wine is...Bitter and dry, sweet but not overwhelming. A nice antithesis, if I say so ." Her tone held a sweet, playful pitch.

"Didn't think you'd be such a connoisseur ." You'd jest, standing up before shutting the little cabinet door with your foot with a quiet click and shudder of the wood paneling against the glass.

"Ah, hardly; I just... so happen to know what's good and why ." She'd purr, hands wrapping around the foiled casing delicately until a little crack would break the subtle silence. Striding back to the stove with you heeding onwards behind her, pulling the cork with a ' pop ' before pouring the blood-red, gleaming liquid into the pot. The color bleeds into the mass, muddying the consistency—the smell of bitter fruits mixing with apple cider and cinnamon spice aroma. Mashing the cork back onto the bottle with her palm before she stirs the pot again, you can't help but wrap your arms around her midsection, resting the side of your forehead against her cheek. The tip of your nose pressed gently against her shoulder before kissing the freckles lining the pale, warm skin.

"How long until it's done? I think the cinnamon rolls..." As it ticked away, you'd peek at the little tomato timer near the counter's edge. "...have about twenty minutes."

"May take a bit longer, but don't fret much, Mo chridhe." She settled the wooden spoon onto the countertop before turning her body towards you, her icy blue eyes meeting your own. "Why don't we kill a little time?" Her nimble hands slid up your chest, smoothing over the flesh of your clothed breasts before they'd travel past your throat and thus be placed delicately on either side of your face.

"Why don't we?" you muse, leaning down as you press your lips to her own. Feeling her palms slide over to the back of your neck, you keep your head in place as she licks at your lips, her intention obvious. As the kiss deepened, a sense of urgency took over her actions. A breathy gasp would escape from her, swallowed by your mouth as Maddie would take the lead, gripping the back of your hair lightly, tugging at the locks to guide you onto the chilly countertop surface. Back hitting the smooth tile, your palms grip it as if to find a purchase before returning to her body. It's a heated and needy exchange, her hands slowly trailing down the expanse of your body before her lips leave your own to place pointed pecks against the flesh of your throat. Fingers found their way under your top's fabric before she felt the soft skin of your belly and waist.

There was a certain eagerness in her actions that left you feeling just as desperate. A little shiver ran down your spine as her teeth grazed across your throat, her lips sucking a mark into the flesh just below your pulse. A little whine would leave your mouth as her calloused palms moved across the supple skin of your belly to your ribs. Fingertips teased at the meat of your breasts before grabbing at the hem of your top and pulling it up with only a straightforward movement due to your eager compliance. The momentary separation leaves you breathless as the lingering cold of the room soaks into your skin, her palms warming the flesh as you let out a soft sigh. Lips brushed against your throat as she'd trail to your collarbone, rough mits kneading at your breasts before she'd start to kiss down the valley between.

The alarm bell sound of the timer made you both jump. Shock coiled within the pit of your belly as Maddie looked over at the device as if to expect something else. A soft huff left her lips as you laughed; her little pout was always rather endearing, pulling from the hold of her arms as you'd take the oven mitt from its hook to pull the cinnamon rolls from the warm confines of the oven.

"Smells pleasant," She hums, eyes roaming over your nude upper half with a sense of hunger. The oven's warmth hit your skin as you left the door ajar, settling the casserole dish down onto the stovetop away from the simmering pot. Maddie turned the heat down before her arms wrapped around you again as if desperate to feel your skin against her own.

"Mulled wine and cinnamon rolls...what on earth might we do for dinner?"

"Take-out?" She mumbles against your back.

"Hmm, maybe..." You feel her hands trail up, palms weighing the delicate flesh of your breasts.

"There's a delightful place down the street corner, open...quite late."

"Quite late, you say...we could do quite a lot...until late."

"Aye,"

—--- -

Two mugs of mulled wine sat lukewarm and half-empty as you held her, pressing soft kisses to the curve of her shoulder as your fingers traced idle patterns against the smooth, pale skin of her freckled shoulder. The cotton fabric of Maddie's pinkish sheets was almost too comfortable alongside the thin blanket and quilt that kept you both warm. The sort of comfort that might make you unwilling to move even the slightest bit. A careful hum broke the ambient silence as she turned over, wrapping her arms around your waist. Pale lips gently kiss the column of your throat. It was lazy but intentional as she'd allow her hands to roam over the bare flesh of your hips. The subtle scent of cinnamon and powdery soap fills your senses as she leans up to press her lips to your own, a muted hum pushing past your lungs as you settle underneath her. Allowing her to lay her weight over you before you feel her knees dip the bedding.

"You're so pretty," she murmured against your lips, those steel blue eyes trained onto your own, a peculiar longing hidden beneath. "I want you." Your hand lifted to cup the curve of her cheek; she leaned into the touch as her hand covered your own.

"Then have me."

With a wicked little grin, she presses her lips to your own once again. Hands moving to the pretty pair of panties you retained despite your conjoined state of undress. Naked cuddling was a somewhat unforeseen habit the two of you acquired. Those sweet, pale lips trailed and brushed down the slope of your body as she pulled at the cotton fabric. Swiftly taking them from your hips to your thighs, and thus, they'd be discarded away to the edge of the bed.

Her lips press delicately to the flesh just between your mound and clit, palms flat against your thighs as she keeps them on either side of her face.

"Oh, cho bòidheach dhomhsa, a ghràidh." She breathes out, her voice heavy and almost drawn out. A slight tremble to her hands, to her lips before the flat of her tongue suddenly drags against the hot wet flesh of your cunt. A muted sound left her as she'd tasted you, slow and careful though still with a sense of urgency. Placing a kiss on the puffy meat of your aching clit. A quiet hum left your lips. Maddie was always rather vocal, eating you out like a woman starved, eyes kept trained on you as she mewled and hummed against you, sometimes mumbled praise pushing past her lungs. "Mo uan milis—ah, you taste like honey." Her tone was nearly teasing as she smiled up at you.

"Honey, hm?" You murmur, hand going to her hair gently, before she leans up, palms resting on the plush of the bed below. Lips languid against your own as she'd allow you to taste yourself, licking into your mouth before one of her hands would shove you further down onto the bed—a rather rough motion before straddling your thigh. You can feel the wet heat of her pussy snugly resting against the plush of your thigh.

"Stay." A command that you submit without question, feeling the subtle roll of her hips before her hand would travel back down. Fingers tracing from Clit to the fluttering lining of your opening. Her tongue is in your mouth as she swallows the moan you let out, a finger pressing gently inside. Maddie was never rough regarding this, at least not at first. It was a gradual, building torture of softness that left you begging for her, just as she liked. Pulling from the kiss as she pressed her forehead to your own

"Please—" Gods, you're already begging, needy, and wanting as she curls that lone finger deep within the sponge of your tight walls.

"Please, what, Lamb?" She teases, sitting up a bit more as she looks down at you. A soft whine leaves you.

"I want more, please."

"Oh, you always ask so nicely." Swiftly adding another finger, much to your delight, she shifted to take the swollen flesh of your nipple between her lips. Fingers are moving faster in tandem with each little suckle. A low moan rumbled within your chest as you arched your back into her touch, a hand going to her hair as the other gripped the firm meat of her forearm.

You feel the way her fingers curl, the impact of every little movement as she breathes against your throat, hips shifting against your thigh as if she could hardly keep herself contained. The burning pit of her belly made her feel frenzied; by the Gods, you were so fucking hot it drove her up the wall. The way your head fell back, brows furrowed, and pussy squelched around her fingers. She could feel how wet you were, dripping with every deep jab within your velvety walls.

"Dear pet, you are a sight," she murmurs, licking up the slope of your neck before her thumb presses against your clit, rewarded with a delirious moan as you pull her by the shoulders into a haughty kiss. She scissored her fingers gently, almost experimentally, before adding another finger. Her hand trembled with the effort of getting her fingers as deeply inside as possible. "Good girl, take it."

You bite the bottom flesh of your lip, hardly keeping yourself quiet as she starts to pump all three fingers, pads pressing against a particular spot that makes you huff out a harsh breath. The pit of your stomach coils and twists, and you feel the impending doom of release start to weigh on you.

"Right there—Oh, gods, right there ." You breathe out, voice needy and almost desperate. Maddie chortles.

"Oh, yeah? Right there?" if you weren't so fucked out, you might think she's mocking you. "Tell me, uan milis."

"Mhm —yes, please don't stop." She bites your shoulder, driving you to a blinding orgasm that leaves you breathless. "Holy shit." You mutter, letting your body relax against the soft plush of the bedding. Maddie pulled her fingers from your poor aching cunt with a wet pop. The sudden emptiness makes you shudder as you watch her bring the fingers to her lips. Licking at the come that coats them before taking them into her mouth and sucking.

"You did so well for me," She purrs, leaning back down as she shifts her hips. Leaving your thigh cold, even more so with the slight spot of wetness left behind. Kissing you as her fingers wander back downwards, rubbing gentle and teasing circles around your overstimulated clit. "Can you keep being good for me?" She whispers against your lips, looking at you expectantly. To which you nod, and she smiles a little wider. "I wanna feel you on me, love." You nod again, a bit more insistent despite the buzz within the pit of your skull and the way your thighs twitch with any slight touch. Maddie giggles, taking your lips in another haughty and dirty kiss. All lips and languid tongue as she grabs your thighs, spreading them as wide as she can, lifting her hips, and settling herself as flush against you as possible. The flesh of her clit pressed snugly to your own as she leans forwards to find balance, a soft laugh leaving the both of you as she nearly loses that balance before you take her weight in kind.

The movement of her hips rolling down into your own is careful at first, and she tries to find a rhythm. Soft little sounds drove past her lips in between every kiss. Once that rhythm was found, she'd move faster, with more confidence as she spoke.

"You feel so perfect, mo chridhe." She almost whines out the words. The stubble of her wispy orange hairs rubbing deliciously against your sensitive flesh makes you arch further into the friction. " Mhm—ah, you're so good for me, my good girl, Mo mhile—" Hips grinding harshly downwards as she huffs and moans, voice almost trembling as you feel the way her clit pulses and twitches against your own. The faint squelch of your coupling fills the room. Maddie's hand suddenly reaches out, grabbing gently at the flesh of your throat, wrapping tightly as she looks down at you. Breath caught within your throat as you let out a nearly pitiful sound. Expression was frenzied, some sense of control clear in every little action, and she relished it. "Aye, good girl, take it for me—let me use this perfect cunt." Her teeth clenched, and sweat fell gently from her forehead as she fluctuated the grip of her hand against your throat. Her eyes widened for a moment as she felt that coil within the depths of her stomach, about to burst and drive her mad.

You were similarly disposed of, the pressure of her hand squeezing so tightly yet delicately around your throat leaves your mind numb and cunt clenching around nothing. Finally, she lets go, hand-finding purchase against the plush bedding as her lips crash against your own. Lungs burn as you suck in air in between every kiss. Your hands come up to the back of her head as you keep her in place.

"Ah, fuck yes! " You cry out, much to Maddie's apparent delight, as she tries to move faster. Muttered praise and pleas leave her as she suddenly feels that coil snap; you feel the twitch and pulse of her puffy clit against your own, and it sends you over. The gush makes you both gasp as she doesn't stop.

"Oh, aye, make a mess...All for me, mo ghràdh." She rasps out against your collarbone before shifting and puffing out breaths. Limp against you, just as you were underneath her. Your arms wrap around her as you kiss her hairline, Maddie shifting lazily as she cups your jaw, peppering your face with kisses. "Let's go clean up." She mumbles, her voice breathless and perhaps somewhat reluctant as she settles against you again.

"Mmm, no, I don't... think I can move very well right now." You mumble right back, fingers tracing idle circles as you rest comfortably underneath her.

"Soon, then...as much as I loved that, it's a bit chilly, don't you think?"

"Maybe...but, nothing a nice meal and a bath can't fix...Where did you say that place is, down the corner?"

"Aye..." She'd shift, peeking at the tiny alarm clock on her bedside table. "Doesn't close for another two hours...I'd say we have plenty of time." Dramatically flopping onto you with a little sigh. "I don't suppose you'd mind going out to fetch it? I'll get us a bath ready." She almost pouts, making you smile and roll your eyes.

"Fine, I 'don't suppose' I mind." You look over at the window. The soft orange sunset consuming Piltover and spilling into the room, the faint droplets of rain that remain against the glass, and your girlfriend's still rather heavy breathing make you feel a sense of calm. The slight chill in the apartment adds to the warmth she radiates. The aroma of spice and cedar was subtle and washed out compared to the scent of flesh and lingering cinnamon.

Gods, you really don't want to get up.

#Arcane #maddie nolen arcane #maddie nolen x reader #Maddie Nolen x fem! reader #Arcane x reader #x fem! reader #arcane x female reader #arcane smut #maddie nolen smut #Arcane maddie x reader #Arcane maddie x you #Arcane maddie x Fem! reader #Lesbian #writers on tumblr #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link

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steddieunderdogfics · 1 year ago

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @wynnyfryd! Wynnyfryd has 34 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!

i don’t know, you figure it out

Plot Holes

biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!

Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!

She's got some of the FUNNIEST writing in this fandom, and it's very snappy too like. She's an editing demon for sure, she can take a concept that I'd think would take paragraphs to explain and find the right words to make it hit just as hard with like, two sentences. I also really really love how descriptive her metaphors are, really visceral sometimes, and she's really good at writing realistic life events but still making them fun to read about even when it's about like, devastating shit. The sex she writes is also intense as hell! -- @griefabyss69

Below the cut, @wynnyfryd answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I am but a humble bisexual — I see two beautiful brown-eyed men makin’ beautiful brown eyes at each other, I go a little insane for two years. It is what it is.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

late-night moments of quiet hopeful hesitant intimacy over a shared joint or cigarette. Thin wisp of smoke between them, stars dancing in their eyes. Yeah. YEAHHHHHHH

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

This isn’t really a trope so much as a dynamic, but I love a good dipshit 4 dingus dialogue-heavy scene. Don’t get me wrong, I think Eddie and Steve can both be very smart and knowledgeable in their areas of interest/expertise, but these are two young dudes with no access to the internet. I love letting them be confidently incorrect dumbasses. Just ‘yes and’-ing each other’s stupidity while an exasperated third character begs for mercy.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Well, this question is impossible and furthermore rude. This question came into my home and didn’t take its muddy boots off. This question never mailed me a thank you letter for my lovely wedding gift. That blender was expensive; the absolute nerve. No but seriously, I think The Lathe by palmviolet is going to stay with me forever.

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’m a big fan of doing canon divergence from different jumping off points — the beauty of having characters live in the same small town their whole lives is that you get so many great opportunities for these “what if our paths crossed sooner” moments. I have some very loose notes for a S3 fic where Eddie is the movie theater employee who finds Steve and Robin in the bathroom after they escape the Russians, and I also have an old WIP set between S1 and S2 where lifeguard Steve rescues Eddie and then spends the summer teaching him how to swim. Would love to revisit those after I finish the trailer park AU (which I will be referring to as TPAU because my fingers are tired and because ‘toilet paper au’ makes me laugh.)

What is your writing process like?

Uhhhhh. 😂 I mean, for TPAU, basically just insert the scene from Dune 2 of Paul’s first sandworm ride: I’m shaking I’m sweating there is sand in my nostrils and I am surely about to die— oh wait, maybe I’ve actually got this? Am I actually doing it? Oh shit, look at me go! For one-shots I like to use a more structured outline and bracket method. I start by dividing my doc into numbered scenes, with each scene getting a notes section and a prose section, like this:

This format gives me a lot of freedom to switch up the order of scenes and to move between scenes so I avoid writer’s block. I can also jump ahead to scenes I really want to write without making a mess of my outline. Once I have something written in the prose section of each scene, I go back and work on replacing each bracket with prose until there are no brackets left. Lastly, I create a new blank doc and copy the prose over in order so I can read the full fic and work on edits from there.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I have been known to abuse a semicolon. And an em dash. And a conjunction at the start of a sentence. Yes, I do have ADHD. I’m also a lyricist, so I feel like my prose tends to stray into poetry territory pretty often.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

When I’m finished! Which is probably why I tend to stick to one-shots; I get impatient and want to post stuff the second it’s ready.

Which fic are you most proud of?

‘i don’t know, you figure it out’ for SURE. I’ve never written a fic this long or stuck to a writing project this consistently in my life. Like ever. The last time I even came close was my first NaNoWriMo when I was 16, which was, uh… years ago, plural, and I’ll leave it at that. 😂

How did you get the idea for i don’t know, you figure it out?

“There’s a dead rat on his doorstep.” That’s it. That first sentence/scene popped into my head while I was bored at work, and then I started thinking, “hey, you know what? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done a fic where Max and Steve trade places for S4; that might be fun.” And then NaNoWriMo was coming up, so I thought it would be cool to try live posting a fully improvised fic every day for a month to see how many words I could write. And then this tragic wet cat version of Steve Harrington grabbed me by the throat and took over my whole life.

When writing Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!, what was something you didn’t expect?

How SAPPY these two got!! My god, boys, I’m trying to write smut over here, stop having a beautiful existential crisis! (I blame Briston Maroney for that though lol, I think I listened to ‘Body’ like 1400 times that month.)

What inspired Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!?

@inklessletter posted this totally gorgeous art of Steve and Eddie recording themselves kissing, and I promptly lost my mind.

What was your favorite part to write from biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!?

This exchange: Steve: “What? I’m just asking!” Robin: “You’re being embarrassing!” Steve: “No, you’re just embarrassed. There’s a difference.” Like it’s just so them lmao

How do/did you feel writing i don’t know, you figure it out?

You know when you set out on a long hike in the summer and three hours later your calves are screaming and you’re covered in sweat and your sunburn’s starting to itch and this one horse fly won’t fuck off and your cell phone doesn’t even get service out here so literally WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, and then you climb that last hill and look out on the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen in your silly little life? Basically that.

What was the most difficult part of writing Plot Holes?

Ooh, that one was fun! The only real difficulty was trying to keep it to a microfic because the concept could definitely be fleshed out to a full story — @griefabyss69 and I were joking around about “what if someone did ‘plot hole’ for the @steddiemicrofic prompt fill?” and then that fic just fell out of my head in about 15 minutes.

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

For sure! I’m currently super proud of the graveyard scene in the most recent update of TPAU — I don’t write true horror often, but I love horror so it was really fun to give it a try! Favorite line from any fic is probably this reference to ‘You’re Divine’ in my fic Monsoon Season because I love uncomfortably-aroused prude Eddie, and his internal monologue cracks me up every time I think about it: Freddie Monsoon’s debut novel is called The Fourth Chime, and it is, as far as Eddie can tell, the first installment in a series of unapologetically filthy fuck fests about a man whose lover gets flung into an alternate dimension during an apocalyptic event and miraculously returns as some sort of… sexy bat-boy with a fucking horse dong and a bite kink. Critics are calling it “the most romantic novel of the last decade.” It’s me; I’m Critics.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

My main project right now is finishing TPAU if it kills me, but beyond that, I have a few one-shots for @subeddieweek in the works, including a collab with @griefabyss69 that I’m so so SO excited to share. It’s hot, it’s funny, I can’t wait for y’all to read it.

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

First of all, as @wormdebut would say: I think you’re pretty. Thank you so much for all your hard work! I love this blog, and I love answering questions <3 Secondly: - Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. - Toss cubed sweet potatoes and parsnips, sliced sweet onion, and fresh garlic in a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary, and then spread in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet. - Bake for ~40-45 minutes. (Potatoes and parsnips should be soft without being mushy when you poke them with a fork.) - Prep your sauce: I made a dijon drizzle situation by mixing olive oil mayo, a dash of dijon mustard, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a splash of water, but you could also add a little dab of hot sauce, bbq sauce, or different mustards. Basically just grab like four condiments out of your fridge and play around with the flavors you like until you make a mix that’s thin enough to pour. - Drizzle roasted veggies with sauce. - Enjoy a very tasty side dish (or do what I did and eat the whole sheet as a meal like some sort of parsnip goblin because you were too lazy to make the main dish after chopping all those veggies) okay thank you love you byeeeee

Thank you to our author, @wynnyfryd, and our nominator, @griefabyss69! See more of Wynnyfryd's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #steddie #steddie fic recs #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #ao3 writer #steddie writers #writer's wednesday

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genericpuff · 2 years ago

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Hey so I have a question-

Is Rachel even contributing to LO's art anymore? Like, at all?

CAUTION: MILD FASTPASS SPOILERS AHEAD !!!

I've talked at length about the 'tells' of each assistant and artist, and while it doesn't guarantee that I can tell exactly who drew each panel, there's one thing there's been a lot less of in the most recent episodes that have caught my attention - things that I know Rachel would typically contribute.

And most of it comes down to her lineart.

The shading was always her, no doubt about that, you could tell with how consistently awful it is, how she would take actual decent flats from her assistants and proceed to butcher them with muddied shading.

AmyKim89's flats vs. after Rachel's gotten her hands on them:

(seriously Rachel why tf did you darken Persephone's legs here, it looked so much better before ??)

But there was also her lineart which, at first, I didn't realize who was drawing it. It didn't show up super often in LO but it was always very noticeable when it did so I knew it had to be someone on the team doing it:

The thickness of the lines and the extra little strokes added in along the knuckles and bends, that wasn't something that was really common in LO at this point... at least it hasn't been since S1:

And when comparing it to the lineart she used to do in The Doctor Pepper/Foxglove Show:

(look at the mouth in The Doctor Foxglove Show vs. Hera in the pilot version of LO, they're literally the same)

So yeah, it was certainly the revelation to discover that that one instance of "weirdly detailed lineart" wasn't one of her assistants having a little extra fun, it was Rachel herself. It was already so uncommon for her to contribute all the way back in S2 that her contributions seemed to be more of the exception rather than the norm.

And since seeing the art that's been in the newest FP episodes following the return of the series... is Rachel even drawing at all anymore? Because lately the lineart has felt very thin, in a way that I can't tell if it's her assistants just doing all the lineart now or if she's trying to emulate S1 LO more by using less lineart. But S1 didn't have thin lineart, it had very thick lineart, BUT only being used where necessary to emphasis shadows and depth.

Now the lineart feels very... dinky? Especially when you look at the eyelashes.

That said, there are moments from S1 that had similarly 'dinky' lineart, so take this with grains of salt. It still didn't feel as dinky though as it does today where the lines are practically non-existent in how thin they are.

There are also times when you can tell they're really trying to emulate that S1 look, the pieces are there but they aren't being put together very well:

So yeah at this point I wouldn't even be shocked if all Rachel's doing at this point is scripting and roughs. And considering there are definitely times where she'll just draw without knowing what to write, the 'scripting' is also practically non-existent. It's just her leaving her roughs off to the last second for her assistants to whip out with very little time to pay attention to what's being submitted.

Once again it's Rachel fundamentally missing the point of the criticism that's being made of her work. She's trying to forcefully emulate something that she didn't even have a process behind. I can attest as someone who's been trying to do studies of her past work to recreate it as faithfully as possible through Rekindled, it's very difficult to achieve the 'old LO' look because 'old LO' was literally just Rachel slapping down brush strokes until they looked good, there was no specific process or guidelines that she followed, she just made things look textured and colorful. Everything else was basically up to her figuring out what actually looked good, with panels often having their own vibes separate from others in isolation of one another.

Now she's trying to replicate that look while missing the point entirely that it's not something she can really replicate anymore. Though we do get the odd panel that's way closer to the point, those panels have one thing that she's clearly not putting into the comic as a whole anymore - love and effort.

(fr this panel is so gorgeous but I feel like at this point it was more sheer luck because of how rare it is to see panels like these nowadays, this feels like an accident LOL)

Case in point, this honorable mention towards Persephone's outfit which is literally just a color-swapped version of the sketch that Rachel posted to Blue Sky that got meme'd to death in the ULO sub:

Did you catch that though? The weird dark patch over her boob and the gap in the lineart of her cleavage?

That's because they copy pasted the first panel and then erased out the hands, but missed the part of the hand shading that was overlapping the breast and the gap in the lineart.

I shit you not, Rachel coming up with memes on Blue Sky that she's scraped out of shows she watched 20 years ago is basically the full extent of her writing at this point.

Haha take a thing and make it bigger! So funnyyyy!

(seriously Rachel's 'humor' feels like it's stuck in 2010)

Yep, you're really earning that #1 NYT Bestseller label that you haven't even gotten since Volume 3, Rachel. Put your hand down, there are no high fives for you here.

#anyways this is all speculation ofc #so take it with mountains of salt #obviously we don't have an actual official list of who drew what panels #but it's clear from the flats we've seen on her assistants' web pages and their personal flairs that they're carrying the bulk of the work #i literally have no clue why they put up with this shit but i guess we'll never know lmao #maybe they really do just love LO that much #no hate if they do #but damn #are they really happy with the work that's being put out ??#at least the work they're showing off is before rachel's gotten her hands on it i suppose LOL #rachel's literally forgotten how to draw #lore olympus critical #lo critical #anti lore olympus

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jackjackal · 1 year ago

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Unpopular Opinion...

I don't hate it...but I'm not a huge fan of H2O season 3 (I might even write my own rewrite like I'm doing for HoA)...but here's why:

Bella is GREAT...but she's absolutely no Emma (and she's not supposed to be...I know!) All I'm saying is that her character is a little on the Alex from Totally Spies level (which again is not a bad thing!!) BUT Alex 100% got overshadowed by Clover and Sam...and I think that Bella's the same way in H2O. Rikki and Cleo are just a little bit more interesting character-wise (just in my opinion). Which means Bella is a lot like Sirena in the Mako Mermaids Netflix spinoff...she can sing BEAUTIFULLY, but other than the singing...she really just follows Will around the whole season like a lost little puppy (as does Sirena to David) and she doesn't do much of standing up for herself (at least in episodes 1 - 15). Even her power is kinda a reflection of her character...it's like slime...something that's cool and fun to play with, but eventually you get bored with it. What I mean by this is that she 100% was brought on board for looks (even Bella stans have to admit she has WAY more scenes in fancy dresses and bikini tops than Emma, Cleo, or Rikki) and because of this it muddied the whole theme of the show a bit by going against EVERYTHING H2O stood for (female independence and power...power not from the ability to turn heads or from their mermaid abilities, but from their own strength of character and intelligence, emotional or otherwise). In the end, Bella just does not meet the standards to replace Emma (and I don't think she was meant to...but still). Her character is just not as dynamic...and I think that's one of the things that makes me not rewatch or like S3 as much as S1-2.

They changed ALOT. I said it to one of my friends earlier...S3 is like that episode in S2 when Ash takes over and changes the cafe. It's just too much too soon. The JuiceNet becomes Rikki's, Bella replaces Emma, Will's there (we'll get to him later), Sophie's there (Neo-Charlotte who's less of a good villain), Sam's there, all of them are older by a noticable amount and Zane has a haircut like a 70-year-old, Mako's going insane with creepy tentacle creature thing, and the whole freaking theme song changes to be more fast-paced and "hip" with a lot of what sounds like to me to be autotune. Now I realize change is good and everything...but it really just makes me sad to watch the whole thing. ESPECIALLY when Lewis leaves (I think my heart was crushed and spat on). He was being all cute and romantic in this season with Cleo too :'( BUT, overall I liked a lot of the changes (Bella, as I mentioned was fine just maybe not as good as Emma was, Drummer!Lewis my heart, and I enjoyed the family antics with Sam...so I really didn't mind her being in it, it was cute that Don fell in love <3 ) Summary of this point: I don't like change and Emma was not my fav character but she was MY character (the most like me). When she left...it kinda made me think of things...like am I replaceable?? Anyways...moving on...

Will. Pretty much enough said with that. He's arrogant, too obessed with power and mermaids, and way too mean to Bella. He treats her like dirt most of the season and makes me wonder like...is Will the real villain of S3??? Also they make his character out to be like he's a merman just without the powers (with the whole free diving arc)...and it's honestly kinda like he's a Byron wannabe but also a weird Frankenhybrid of Dr. Denman, Zane, Zac (from Mako Mermaids), Erik (from Mako Mermaids), and idk now I'm just listing people. His character is just kinda strange to me because first of all where the other guys have their faults, they're also sensitive and romantic at times. Will is not. He's just kinda annoying. I even like Nate more than him lol (cause at least his character isn't two-faced like Will's...he's always been NateTM). Anyways...Will and Sophie are like the evil but not evil? dynamic disaster duo of S3. They're both just kinda not fun to watch...which brings me to Sophie.

Sophie. Again, enough said. She's a Charlotte wannabe with all her red hair, snooping problems, and obession with Will (which is kinda a little weird...but not unlike Charlotte's obession with Lewis...except they weren't brother and sister...yikes). She also presses my buttons, which, good job show writers. But it just makes it a little like this has happened before. What's new? Also makes the season a little less rewatchable.

I'm really just ranting at small details now, so I'll get to my last and ultimately largest point. Season 3 lost the magic for me. When I was rewatching for the zillionth time...I noticed this rather huge change. Seasons 1 and 2 I was MESMORIZED. The water, the ocean, the pleasing details of Emma, Cleo, and Rikki having the white, purple, and red motifs throughout, the details of small little scenes like how in the episode with Rikki's father she held a CHIPPED mug and her father held a non-chipped one like she felt her image was broken/imperfect based on their lack of money and less impressive house while the dad could care less and was honestly proud of it (wooooah, okay sorry about that, but like that scene made me sooooo happy as a writer like UGGH...writers/directors made gold with that scene). Anyways, details like this were just not there in S3 (well vitrually not there...there were some like when Sophie wore Rikki's color red to impress Zane)...almost like the whole message changed from being about struggles of being a teenager and growing up to yay mermaids!! And let's focus more on the image/humor of the show as opposed to teaching us important morals. It just...kinda lost it for me. It just was not nearly as magical as S1-2 and I'm not talking actual magic. I'm talking vibes and inner magic...and all that shiz.

Overall...I give S3 a 3.5/5 ⭐️s Decent if you want more of a H2O fanfic experience but just NOT as good as the OG mermaid trio and OG guys (Lewis, Zane, and Ash...Byron you were great too, but not as good as Ash).

Which brings me to Ash...okay, okay jk! I'm not gonna steal more of your life than I already have. But just know that if I get around to my S3 rewrite idea (which I already have the plot decided and everything) then you'll be seeing a lot more of him! Woot! Thanks for reading and putting up with me. Feel free to chat with me anytime your feelings on H2O season 3 or any topic really! I love chating with fellow obsessees!💖🧜‍♀️

#rant post #h2o just add water #H2O season 3 #read at your own risk #unpopular opinion #bella h2o #season 3 #ao3 writer #feel free to rant #with me #what do you think?

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johnathancanines · 18 days ago

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Day 2: Garden Hose

Rating: E Word count: 479 Notes: idk where i'd put it since getting Arrow House is always a ??????? to me but it's post s2.

Sadhbh is pronounced SIGH-ve like five.

Most days he had no regrets about buying Arrow House. But most days it wasn’t full of what seemed to be every child and those who only recently ceased to be one in his extended circle of acquaintance. For once the issue wasn’t John’s kids but that wasn’t too surprising when Cook was there. Whoever left out the hose was likely to get fired if he found them out today. His lawn was torn and muddy and all the children were screaming — especially the girls, the shrillness was giving him tinnitus— as Cook and the younger lads sprayed them all with the hose. Especially the girls. Sadhbh was sopping, having been not just been Cook’s clear favorite target but also from being used by her cousin Moira as a human shield as she screamed obscenities at the boys for what she would do to them if they got her hair wet.

“Enough!” Tommy bellowed. He suddenly felt more like a grandfather than a father or uncle, was this what they’d done to Charlie? Christ. He’d have to give him a good bottle of whisky for Christmas as an apology.

The children all turned to look at him, the majority wide eyed and terrified — save Cook who was still laughing and Sadhbh who looked relieved.

“Alright enough of that before you do more damage. Cook drop the hose, Isiah go turn the bloody thing off. Now none of you is going back in my house before you let the maids get the worst of mud and wet off yeah now get to the garden door and make a queue. Littlest first. I want more time to deal with you idiots.”

Michael and the rest of the older boys had the sense to look at least hesitant but Cook was already heading off to the door with a shrug of his shoulders. As he came in line with Moira and Sadhbh he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up against him laughing as she screamed in surprise. Tommy ran over and ripped the two apart, pausing only to make sure Sadhbh didn’t fall before getting in Cook’s face.

“What? She’s up for some fun!”

“No. None of that. No.” Tommy’s voice was dangerous but it only seemed to harden Cook’s defiance.

He was going to brain this boy one day, the only thing that stopped him from doing it was the sad knowledge that no one but him would care that he had. Tommy kept a grip on Cook as he turned to the girls.

“You two to the front of the line alright?”

Moira and Sadhbh nodded. Sadhbh’s gaze drifted to Cook and she smiled a little.

“Good luck Cook.”

He could feel Cook explode into tension at that. Like a stallion straining at a stall to get to a mare. Jesus Fucking Christ he needed a cigarette.

#june 25 writing challenge #peaky blinders ocs #peaky blinders fanfic #sadhbh x cook #trying to catch up asap can you tell?

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unicornletters · 2 years ago

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loyalty, touching, caring business -- izzy/fang/frenchie -- during s2 -- spoilers -- non-explicit

Fang and Izzy never talk about Izzy’s desire for strong arms around him and some fucking recognition around here. They never talk about how Fang could give those things to him pretty easily, if Izzy admitted to wanting them from him. It’s all just sort of there, muddying the air between them, for years.

When Fang folds Izzy into his arms and lets him cry, Izzy loses it. It’s too much for him. It throws him off his Ed-managing game and what follows gets him shot.

He thinks of Fang’s arms around him as he’s slipping out of consciousness from pain, though, and of his own hand tucked into Frenchie’s.

Izzy does what he has to because he has to. That’s all. It was Ed or the crew, and the crew conveniently includes Izzy, who’d die just like the rest of them if Ed had his way. So. Farewell, Ed.

The fact that it saves Fang and Frenchie doesn’t hurt, either.

Even as he watches Fang take years of frustration and anger out on Ed’s prone body (is it just him or is that a lot of crotch stuff?), Izzy thinks of Fang using that strength to hold him, in innocent and sexual contexts.

“He’s a beaut, ain’t he,” Frenchie says, having materialized next to Izzy.

He doesn’t respond.

“He’s got it bad for you, too,” Frenchie says. “Wouldn’t take any work at all to get him.”

“What about you getting him?” Izzy asks acidly.

“That wasn’t too hard either.” Frenchie looks at Izzy. “You know we’re not a package deal, right?”

“Could have fooled me,” Izzy grouses. “Holding my hand.”

“Yeah,” Frenchie says as Fang does something to Ed’s body that makes a crunching sound, “because I wanted to. I still want to. But I don’t have to.”

Desire that doesn’t culminate in taking doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to Izzy, but he shrugs like he knows what Frenchie’s on about anyway.

“Suppose you both put me to bed after this shit’s over,” he says. “I’m liable to bleed out.”

“Aye-aye,” Frenchie says. “We’ll get you right.”

And, to Izzy’s surprise, when he’s tucked up in the captain’s bed with Fang at his back and Frenchie sprawled over both of them somehow, he feels more right than he’s been in years.

Something to this… loyalty, touching, caring business. He’ll be fucked if he ever admits it aloud, but going soft’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

Fang snorts in his sleep behind him and Frenchie, also in his sleep, half-heartedly slaps at him. Izzy barely contains a laugh.

What a fucking week.

#izzy goes soft #izzy hands #izzy hands/frenchie/fang #fang/izzy/frenchie #throuple #power throuple #ofmd fanfic #ofmd s2

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armchairaleck · 2 years ago

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Dark Magic Dreams

Okay, this will be part one of a series of things I would like to look at regarding the possible purpose of, and various meanings and imagery contained within the dark magic dreams we see in TDP.

Now a lot of what I am going to write about regarding these are ideas that I’ve either heard or read about in relation to Twin Peaks, a fandom I am deeply fascinated by, but honestly way too dumb to write about. As such you will have to accept that I am not an expert on any of the stuff I am going to cover, they are just things that intrigue me and so I will probably extrapolate completely wrongly, but you know, maybe there’s something of interest.

Also please feel free to correct any incorrect assumptions I make, I really don’t feel like I’m a great reader of this sort of stuff anyway, but… I’ll give it a go.

So first an overview of some of the knowns and unknowns (mostly unknowns) about dark magic dreams:

Claudia states to Terry that everyone has one dark magic dream on their path to becoming a mage. Just one, after the first use, and then pretty much you’re good to go. Now I’m going to presume that Viren is the first person who has gone to the somewhat extreme lengths of dying, being resurrected, and then doing dark magic AGAIN to get a second shot at that fever dream. I admire both his commitment to the cause and his err.. foolhardiness here, but that’s Viren I guess.

In the show we see two dark magic dreams. Callum’s first in s2 and Viren’s second in s5 (with a mirror image of his first also imbedded within it, for extra time/space/fate/freedom mind fuckery here I guess).

The dream of time and space... (yeah sorry I will be peppering these captions with lots of Twin Peaks quotes)

Both these dreams seem to contain similar themes –

There is an emphasis on echoes of the past and future - Callum sees a possible corrupted future self that he rejects before he sees a lot of wind/sky imagery that surely points to his unlocking of the sky arcanum (interestingly this segment is also set at sea, a possible foreshadowing of the ocean arcanum to come?)

Viren mostly sees the shadows of his past mistakes - training with Kpp’Ar, himself crowned as the king of Katolis, Harrow on the night of the assassination and healing young Soren, presumably the point where things started to go drastically wrong for him… and then he also sees the future echo of Claudia’s path following his own. Ouch.

The dream of suffering and pain…

There is the image of the double self, Callum sees himself corrupted, Viren sees his younger uncorrupted self in the mirror, while his younger uncorrupted self would have seen a vision of future Viren, looking mighty fine I must say.

Yes, look in the mirror. What do you see?

Is it a dream, or a nightmare?

Both Callum and Viren also meet the spirit/ghost or subconscious projection of people who have been important, influential or close to them. Callum gets Harrow and Sarai and erm... Villads, while Viren sees Kpp’Ar, Harrow, baby Soren and erm… Sir Sparklepuff and Opeli (okay still figuring those two out precisely, but Sir Sparks I guess holds a whole new bond for Viren now...)

It's like I'm having the most beautiful dream...

And the most terrible nightmare, all at once.

Finally there is a very strong emphasis on the path you follow - fate versus free choice, destiny being preordained or something you write yourself, which is muddied somewhat by the fact that we know both Callum and young Viren clearly rejected the path of dark magic in their dreams annnd then went on to do more dark magic. Now Callum we know has only taken a step so far on what we presume is a slippery slope, while Viren has leapt off the mountain so to speak.

So those are the similarities between the dreams. I’ve also been thinking about the possible reasons for the dark magic dream existing in the first place.

They could be simply a side effect, something baked into the creation of dark magic itself, if Aaravos created dark magic it is possible that his connection to the stars has simply left these echoes and visions of past and future in the dream somehow. This could be accidental, an unforeseen consequence, in which case it might play to the advantage of the dark mage, or it could be something placed there on purpose, to accentuate the power that dark magic holds over the wielder – this path is already written, you have no choice.

It could be a warning, the subconscious urging the mage to turn back - the path you are about to follow is filled with certain danger. It would be interesting to know how many, if any, dark mages do turn back at the dream stage.

Or it could be a physical side effect, the body having to sweat or dream out the corruption/toxins from their first use, in which case it is interesting that this particular side effect only ever happens the one time.

One other factor seems to be that dark magic can also help the caster unlock an Arcanum as well, we see Callum connect to sky after his first dream, filled with keys, so the dream space might also channel certain energies. This might have some interesting potential for Viren, providing he doesn’t expire on the cold, hard ground, but I’ll park that thought here for now.

I awoke from that dream realizing that I had subconsciously gained knowledge of a deductive magical technique.

Anyway to finish this first post, I was interested in a couple of images that occur within Viren’s dream.

The mirror of Aaravos

So when corrupted Viren looks at young Viren and young Viren looks at his future self, and the bounds of space and time do that little weird wobble thing that hurts my head, they are looking at each other through the mirror of Aaravos. Now this could imply several things, but it has to be a deliberate choice for that mirror to be the window between them.

Was Viren’s path always somewhat predestined? His younger self would have no knowledge of that mirror having not yet reached the point of finding it in the storm spire, that future is still years away, so it can't be imbedded in his memory, or can it?

Why does he already see his future self through that particular mirror? This element of the dream has been confirmed to be the same experience at two different points in time. Now of course young Viren always had the choice to step away from the path he was following at any point, but it interesting to me that the image of that mirror was already baked into his personal dream space as if the path is already written.

Or perhaps the mirror just has some symbolic reference to imprisonment… in which case?

The cursed coin

Next is the image on the back of the coin, this sorta weird symbol often with a central circle which we see several times:

These are the ones I could easily find, there could be others..

The pattern is not quite the same, but we've been informed it can be associated with a different sort of magic - old magic, deep magic. Due to the nature of the cursed coins I’m loosely wondering if this could be a type of magic that has something to do with the soul or spirit of a person. I don’t feel personally that this has to be incompatible with the ideas and theories of it also being blood magic, because ideas surrounding blood and the soul/life spark are often linked.

What seems possible in these cases is the mage is paying a soul cost that is greater than usual, whether this is symbolised through the spilling of blood, as in the two spells Aaravos proposes to Viren, or by doing something heinous to the detriment of your principles, such as trapping others in the cursed coins. This could also track with the two spells that Claudia does that change her hair colour.

It might be a stretch, but I don’t personally feel Lissa would have left Viren for casting a dark magic spell to save Soren. Now there might have had to be some sort of terrible sacrifice involved but we’ve seen a deer heal full body paralysis, so I’m not really convinced Viren had to slaughter a baby elf at the alter to save his son (not saying he didn’t either of course, but there’s the possibility that isn’t actually the cost). So there might have been something else that Lissa and possibly Kpp’Ar had a problem with. Well having seen Kpp’Ar in action I feel he’d be more adverse to potential outside control rather than delving into the depths of blood magic.. so not sure quite what went on there...

Honestly, mostly I just like the idea of selling your soul for something, and the consequences of that, and possibly it could link to Aaravos/Lucifer comparisons. Every time someone does dark magic they seem to be making an unknowing pact with him and perhaps it's possible deep magic err.. deepens it.

This could also track with the coin spell being "Your soul is my treasure", and Harrow’s dream use of the spell on Viren. Be interesting to know where Viren acquired those coins, because no shade on Viren, but I’m not sure he’s capable of making them… I guess maybe Kpp’Ar has a treasure hoard of illicit artefacts in his basement or something…

So in that case we would have dark magic as being the gateway to Aaravos and some sort of deep/blood/soul magic as being the next step along that path, but one that not many are willing to make.

This might explain why Aaravos has been hanging around in prison for 300 years, if a certain amount of influence was needed to steer someone towards his prison, perhaps Viren is the only person desperate enough to have gone this far down the path. I don’t know, very hard to tell with the paucity of dark mages on the show tbh.

So we look closely at the eyes to see the nature of the soul

In this case I think the dark magic dream could be seen as something of a spiritual journey, the dark night of the soul, and possibly a chance to integrate the light and the dark that coexists within us. It’s clear there is a path to choose, but it also seems that it might not be quite as simple as choosing the ‘good’ or the ‘bad’ but all of these choices carry within them moral dilemmas and complexities - what are the things we are willing to do and by extension possibly lose for love.

I feel that Callum and Viren mirror quite strongly in both the theme of sacrificing for love and the desire for power. Why else would you really become a mage primal or otherwise unless you are seeking power over things and mastery of them? Where does this leave Viren now (if he’s not exhaling his last breath on the beach, and I can’t make up my mind about that)? I will hopefully explore some of these possibilities in other posts and yes they will feature a lot of Twin Peaks ideas cos it’s practically the only other show I watch. As such I have not seen Mad Men, but Twin Peaks has very close links to the nature of the soul, the ability to navigate between the black and the white and to the catastrophic consequences for both yourself and others if you are not able to do this, and we've all seen some of those in TDP.

Through the darkness of future past, the magician longs to see..

Am I gonna read way too much into literally everything? You betcha…

Full disclaimer here, I am not really trying to read the show or work out what it's going to do with some of this stuff, I am just looking at ideas that interest me. What interests me certainly isn't looking at it through a straight up lens of morality, which is why a lot of my thoughts will doubtless be wrong.

#tdp s5 spoilers #the dragon prince spoilers #tdp viren #dream baby dream #thoughts

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jawtitan · 7 years ago

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No matter what y’all say about this season, we can all agree that it looks visually delightful, yes?

#jess talks #I feel like the s2s3 leap was wilder than the s1s2 honestly #S2 still looked like... muddy...

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theowritesstuff · 2 years ago

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Yours No More

Nikolai Lantsov x gn!healer!reader

Summary: Hiding an almost-relationship with the Prince of Ravka is hard enough, but it gets even harder to navigate feelings when he’s engaged to a Saint

Prompts: “are you really so oblivious?” & “it hurts, just how much I ache for you.”

A/N: What can I say? I love writing healer!reader. Also once again I’m mixing book canon and show canon

Sobachka - puppy

Moi tsarevich - my prince

Moi tsar - my king

SHADOW & BONE S2 SPOILERS

When thinking about your life, the young prince of Ravka seemed to be a prominent feature. There was before Nikolai, the life you lived before the palace, then there was after Nikolai, the life surrounded by other Grisha, serving the royal family.

You were offered up to the Lantsovs as somewhat of a personal healer, ready to tend to them whenever needed. The king and queen didn’t really have a need for a healer most of the time, and the older prince was often far from the palace. They younger prince however, the sobachka, had a tendency to dive headfirst into danger whenever he liked.

While this very well could have made Nikolai a thorn in your side, you’d quickly grown fond of him. It was impossible not to, what with his crystalline blue eyes, the blonde waves that adorned his head, and his charming, carefree spirit.

You’d been given an easy role. You’ve seen how other Grisha are treated amongst the other royals, sometimes even the soldiers from the First Army. Your poor friend Genya was dealt a terrible hand when it came to the roll she played in the palace, so you were grateful for the young prince’s kindness.

He became just as infatuated with you as you did with him just as quickly though. Whenever you ran to him healing a scraped knee, or when his parents sent you with him when he joined the First Army specifically to tend to him, you stole his heart little by little, until he could no longer call it his own. He almost looked forward to getting hurt, because it meant he could call upon you.

If asked he’d deny it, but he begged his parents to let him take you with him whilst he studied for his apprenticeship. They were hesitant to send you away, to lose their best healer, but Nikolai was persuasive.

He asked you to tailor him, just enough that no one would recognize the prince of Ravka on a ship. You reluctantly agreed, slowly waving your hands over his face, changing the features you’d grown to find comfort in. His blonde waves now a bright red, stark against his pale skin. His once sparkling blue eyes were now a muddy green color. The only thing that really remained of your prince was the ever present smirk he had.

“How do I look?” He asked you.

“Different.” You nodded.

“Good. No one will be able to pick me out of a crowd.” He looks over himself in a mirror.

“I could.” You stand behind him. “I think it’d be quite easy to pick you out.”

He smiles, but furrows his brows. “How so?”

“Well, let’s start with your posture. You’re still too regal. Relax your shoulders a bit. You’re no longer carrying the weight of a prince.” You place your hands on his shoulders, using your thumbs to massage the muscles. “Then there’s your charm-”

He quickly turns his head to face you, a bold smirk resting on his face. “You think I’m charming?”

You laugh. “I think you’re confident, sometimes overly so. I think you have this air about you that draws others to you.”

“Are you?” He asks, his voice barely above a murmur.

“Am I what?”

“Drawn to me?” He leans closer to you, his eyes shifting down to your lips.

Before he could press his lips to yours a sharp knock sounded from the door. You pulled away from each other quickly, both trying to hide your flustered states.

“Come in.” Nikolai called.

Tamar opened the door and poked her head in. “Love the new look captain.” She laughed. “Ready to go?”

Sailing the seas with Sturmhond took some getting used to. The few Grisha you knew helped you settle into this new life, while others in the crew wondered why their captain kept a healer so close.

You shared a bunk with a few of the other crew mates, but more often than not, Nikolai pulled you away to the captain’s quarters. He wanted to keep you close to him.

“What if someone breaks into my room and stabs me?” He asked, shrugging.

You shook your head. “Then you’d probably want the Bataar twins here to protect you.”

“Here I’d be. Laying on the floor, blood pooling out of my chest.” He collapses to the floor with a loud thud, a hand over his chest. “Slowly letting the life drain from my body.” He closes his eyes for a moment.

“Don’t be so dramatic sobachka. I know you wouldn’t take death laying down. You’d fight it until your very last moment.” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t help your smile from growing. “Even then, you’d probably drag your corpse to me.”

“I would.”

Occasionally, in the quiet night, he’ll allow you to wipe away the tailored face you’ve created for him, and bring back his softer Lantsov features. You brush a hand through his gold locks, pushing them away from his face.

He lets you admire him in silence. A clever quip waiting on the tip of his tongue, but he never allows it to escape in fear that it will ruin these moments with you.

“Moi tsarevich.” You sigh as your fingertips travel from his hair down the side of his face, tracing over his cheekbones.

“You don’t have to call me that.” He whispers to you. His eyes remain locked on yours as yours travel around his face, memorizing every detail of him.

“Nikolai then.” You give him a soft smile.

You reluctantly pull yourself away from him after a while, ready to tailor him back into his privateer persona. “It’s probably time for Sturmhond to return.”

“You sound disappointed.”

“Well,” now you smirk at him. “I think the prince is decidedly more handsome than the pirate.”

“Privateer. It’s an-”

“Important distinction. Yes, I know.” You laugh as you slowly tailor him back into Sturmhond.

Once finished you walk over to the other side of the room, where he’s added a bunk specifically for you. You blow out the few candles that were lit, and climb into your bunk.

“Y/n?” Nikolai calls from the other side of the room.

“Yes?”

“Do you really think I’m handsome?” You can hear his grin.

“Good night Nik.” You roll your eyes affectionately, rolling over to face the wall.

He falls asleep with a smile on his face, your new nickname for him floating around in his head.

You’d fallen into an easy routine with Nikolai aboard the Volkvony. You spent time with the crew during the day, tending to injuries, sometimes even practicing the heartrender specialties with Tolya or Tamar. Then the evenings you’d spend with Nikolai. You keep him company as he makes plans for where the ship is going and why, you show him what the twins have taught you.

“Watch this, I can adjust your heartbeat a little bit!”

He watches as you do the heartrender motions in front of his chest. He can feel his heartbeat quicken just a little bit, but whether it’s from your powers or your close proximity he’s unsure.

“You don’t need to use your powers to make my heart speed up.” He takes your hands in his and holds them to his chest. You feel his heartbeat through the thick blue coat he’s got on, and sure enough it’s beating faster than usual.

He’s smirking down at you, proud of how flustered he’s seemed to make you as you pull your hands away from his chest. You excuse yourself, and quickly leave him there, wondering whether or not he holds the same power over your heart that you do his.

Evenings are spent sharing moments with Nikolai, both of you teetering on the line that divides friendship and more. Quiet moments shared where you both wonder what would happen if you crossed that line. If you just leaned into each other, and took what your hearts most desired.

When Nikolai had taken in Alina Starkov and Mal Oretsev you were nervous. You knew Nikolai had a penchant for adventure, but harboring the sun summoner and a deserted First Army soldier was an entirely new venture.

You knew that he wanted to take them back to Ravka, to regroup with the First and Second Army there to find a way to destroy the Fold and take down Kirigan. He helped them find and kill the sea whip, giving Alina another amplifier to use, while you stayed behind on the ship, away from the danger.

Nikolai grew closer and closer to Alina as time went on, well after she learned who he actually was then punched him out of frustration. It was clear he was trying to create some sort of relationship with her, a type of alliance between the Ravkan royals and the living Saint.

Whilst Alina became closer with the prince, you started to form a bond with Mal. He was a bit hesitant about you at first, having a hand in keeping Nikolai’s identity a secret was a little hard to forgive, but he found you were a nice change from the air that Nikolai brought with him wherever he went.

“You spend practically every minute with him. You must find him insufferable.” Mal scoffs, watching Nikolai attempt to win over Alina.

It breaks your heart a little, watching him with her. It almost feels like you’ve been pushed to the side in his life. What was once a life long friendship has now turned into a mere partnership. He’s replaced you in his heart with a new Grisha, one much more powerful than you.

“No.” You shake your head. “His company means the world to me.” You tell Mal, quiet enough so he’s the only one that hears you. “You know what that’s like though. To spend so much of your life with someone that you form what you think is an unbreakable bond with one another.”

He gives you a sympathetic smile. He feels the same way. He knows Alina loves him, he’s sure of it, but like you, he fears that something could pull her away from him.

Being back in the palace separates you even more from Nikolai. Instead of sharing a room with him, you now occupy a room at the other end of a hallway from him. You both long for one another in the quiet night. His room is far too empty, and his bed far too large for just himself.

You think that maybe he’ll ask you to stay with him, like on the Volkvony. That you’ll share a space with him again and you’ll have that little bit of peace you once shared. But he never comes to your door, and you never go to his.

Nikolai doesn’t fail to notice your relationship with Mal starting to grow. While you once sat by his side during meals, Alina now occupies your seat, and you sit with Mal, laughing with each other about something only the two of you can hear.

He feels something in his chest, a sharp pain to his heart. This is something even you, the best healer he’s ever known, couldn’t fix.

You feel the same pain when he announces his engagement to the sun summoner. Unlike Nikolai, it takes a moment. He announces it at dinner, while the First and Second armies are gathered together, that their marriage will help heal Ravka. You’re frozen, too shocked to move. It’s Mal that pulls you back to reality, his hand on yours.

You feel the pain in your chest, a twisting sensation in your stomach, as you turn away from Mal to look back at Nikolai. He’s looking around at the cheering soldiers, but his eyes catch yours for a moment. He sees the red that begins to outline them, and the tears welling up. He looks like he might go to you, to assure you that you have his heart, and not Alina. But he straightens himself out, then sits back down.

He desperately wants to follow you as you quickly exit the room, no doubt heading back to yours. He wants to chase you down the halls, to wrap you up in his arms and wipe away the tears he’s the cause of, to whisper words of love against your lips. But he can’t. He must marry Alina for the sake of his country.

He keeps an eye on you at the engagement party his mother threw for him. You’re talking with other Grisha. You look breathtaking. The only thing missing from your ensemble is the Lantsov emerald. You don’t spare him one glance at all that night. That is, until chaos ensues.

Shadow monsters destroy everything in sight, and take the lives of so many. You search for Nikolai in the bustling crowd, but a hand grabs your arm, pulling you away. Zoya drags you away from the scene before you, tugging you through numerous hallways.

She leads you to a series of tunnels underground, all while you try to pull away from her.

“You won’t be of any use if you die trying to save the prince.” She grumbles at you. “You’re one of the few healers here, and we’re going to need all the help we can get.”

You hate to admit it, but as usual she’s right. There are dozens injured, some worse than others. You’re about to get to work when someone calls out your name.

You look down to the other end of the hall to see Nikolai. He looks fine, no visible injuries, but he does look distraught. He practically sprints to you, and pulls you into a tight hug.

“I couldn’t find you. You weren’t there, and I thought-”

“I’m fine, I’m fine Nik.” You pull away just enough to be able to look him in the eyes.

His scan over you, searching for injuries, until you lift his chin so he’s looking at your face again.

“I’m okay, I promise.”

He nods and takes a deep breath.

“Besides, shouldn’t I be the one worried about you? I am your healer after all.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Right.”

Alina pulls Nikolai away, asking if he’d seen Mal anywhere. You take that as your cue to leave. You start going from person to person, helping heal them in any way you can.

When it comes time to make a plan for Ravka’s next move, and Nikolai and Alina suggest finding the Neshyenyer, your mind starts to wonder. He’s sending Tolya and Zoya to go to Ketterdam and recruit the Crows to find it.

You think selfishly for a moment. It would be a way to get away from the soon to be king and queen of Ravka. A way to alleviate your heart of the pain you feel when you’re around them.

“I’d like to accompany Tolya and Zoya.” You tell him.

He looks surprised to say the least. “Why?”

“Well, there will be seven people looking for a mystical weapon, danger is bound to arise, they may need a healer.” You attempt to convince yourself and him that this is the reason you’d like to go.

“No. You’ll stay here.” He shakes his head. He can’t fathom so much space between you. “You’re my healer.” He puts emphasis on the word my, you don’t know if he notices it, but you do.

You listen intently for his heartbeat. It’s pace slowly accelerates as he starts to pace around the room.

You step in front of him, blocking his continuous path, and take his hands in yours. He closes his eyes, relishing in the feeling of having you so near. He leans his forehead against yours.

“I think we both know, I am yours no more sobachka.” You murmur.

He shakes his head and opens his eyes. You can see tears slowly start to build up. “If you insist that you must go, take this.” He reaches into his pocket, and pulls out his gold compass. “So you can always find your way back home.” Back to me.

The trip to Shu Han was definitely an eventful one. Tolya kept a watchful eye on you after being told explicitly by Nikolai to protect you at all costs. The Crows were an eclectic bunch, no one quite like the other.

Seeing Nina again was nice. She was still the same witty friend you remembered her to be.

“What? The prince let you off your leash?” She laughs when she first sees you.

“The king.” Zoya corrects her.

“Yes, he’s tending to his country, and his soon to be wife at the moment.” You tell her.

Her face falls slightly as she looks between you and Zoya. “Oh. My apologies, I didn’t-”

“It’s alright Nina. I’m really here to help forget about him.” You lower your voice. “Besides, he was never mine to lose.”

You stayed with Tolya through the heist, getting nearly killed by poisonous gas, and choking down a butterfly to save yourself.

Other than the poison slowly making its way through your body, the gas didn’t harm you physically. It lulled you to sleep, pulling you into a sweet dream.

You were with Nikolai, of course, in the palace. Light shone into his room from the large window, making the gold in his unkempt hair shine. His arms were wrapped tightly around you as you both lay the soft sheets of his bed.

“Hello my love.” His voice is deep, still strained from sleep.

“Moi tsar-”

He nuzzles his face into the crook of you neck, pressing soft kisses against the column of your throat. “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that.” You can feel him smiling against you.

“Pirate Prince then.” You smirk.

He scoffs, then pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. “I wish we could stay like this forever.” He says, moving to cup your face with one of his hands.

You reach a hand up onto his bare chest, just over his heart. You listen, searching for the all too familiar rhythm, but you don’t hear anything. You give him a sad smile and shake your head. “Me too Nik. But I know this isn’t real.”

He pouts. “Promise me you’ll come back. Back to the palace. That you won’t find a new life in Shu Han, or Ketterdam.”

You know he isn’t real, that he isn’t actually asking you to come home to him, that it’s just what you wish he’d do. Even so, you press a kiss to his cheek.

“I promise.”

You wake with a burning sensation in your throat, in the dark temple. Tolya and the Crows are with you, some in a coughing fit, others completely silent.

Tolya comes over to you, and rests a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright?”

You nod. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

His eyes scan your face. “What did you see?”

You know he can hear your heartbeat spike. He glances down at your hand as you subconsciously reach for the compass that hangs around your neck, hidden under you clothes. You know you won’t get away with lying to him, but you do it anyways. “Nothing.”

You’re grateful that he doesn’t push for an answer.

After retrieving the blade, you all head back to Ravka together. The Fold has now expanded, nearly covering the entirety of the Spinning Wheel.

“Stay with Zoya.” Tolya tells you. “You’ll be able to help Alina.”

Your heart yearns to go with the other group, to find Nikolai, but you know saving the sun summoner takes precedence over anything at the moment.

“I’m sure he’ll be okay.” Nina tries to assure you. “He was always headstrong.”

Kaz glances at you as you wring your hands, about to follow Zoya, Nina, and Inej.

“Y/n.” He calls to you. He walks over to you and speaks lowly. “Watch over my wraith, and I’ll keep an eye on your king.”

You give him a grateful smile. “Thank you.”

The journey into the Fold was terrifying. You kept yourself as silent as possible as the four of you searched for Alina. She and Mal were near the edge of the fold, fighting what looked to be a volcra. It had a hold of Alina’s hair, pulling her further into the darkness.

Inej slashed the monster with the Neshyenyer, killing it. They both looked grateful to see your little group.

“We need to get further into the Fold to destroy it.” Alina nods her head towards what looks to be nothing but pitch black.

You check over Alina for any injuries as you head further into the darkness. You heal any small cuts or scrapes you find on her, quietly watching her skin mend back together.

“There. In perfect condition to destroy the Fold and save Ravka.”

She snorts out a laugh. “No pressure, right?” She creates a small bundle of light in her hand and stares at it.

You smile at her. You want to dislike her, but you can’t. The living Saint who has stolen Nikolai’s attention from you is actually amiable. She’s kind, very brave, and willing to do anything to end this war.

“You’re going to make the perfect queen when this is all over.” You tell her.

She looks up at you and shakes her head. “I never wanted this. Nikolai thinks this engagement will strengthen Ravka, but I know my heart belongs to another.” She glances to Mal. “Just as his does too.” She turns back to you with a pointed look.

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he could love anyone the way he loves you.”

“He doesn’t-”

“Oh, I assure you. He does.” She scoffs. “When I accepted his proposal I thought that maybe we could learn to love each other, but I see the way he looks at you. I hear the way he talks about you. I may be the sun summoner, but to him you’re the brightest. You’re the shining light in his life.”

You feel warmth spread across your face. Did Nikolai really feel that way about you?

“If we succeed today, the crown may be mine, but I promise you, the heart of the king will be yours.”

You understood just how strong shared love could be when you saw Alina light the fold. Combined with Mal’s power she was able to cast an immense light into the darkness. Flashes of gold and pink spread around you.

Kirigan arrived not long after, ready to fight Alina, but she was able to assail him. You rushed to Mal’s side when he collapsed, trying your hardest to help him. Kirigan had delivered a near fatal blow. In all your years of healing Nikolai, you’ve never had to heal something this large.

Alina falls to her knees next to you, taking his hand in hers. You do everything you can for him, focusing all of your power on keeping him alive.

Streaks of light flew from Alina. Reds, purples, and golds flashed through the sky, breaking apart the Fold. She takes a dagger from Mal’s side, and plunges it into his chest, screaming out as bright blue lights surrounds you. You shield your eyes, but can still see the blue behind your eyelids.

When you open your eyes again, the Fold has dissipated.

“Can you heal him?” Alina asks you, with tears down her cheeks.

“I’ll try.” You nod at her, then turn your attention back to the now unconscious boy.

Kirigan slowly rises up, and walks towards you. Alina stands up, taking a protective step in front of you and Mal.

“Now, you know sacrifice.”

“Beyond anything you’ve ever known.” Alina tilts her head up at him. “And look what it did.”

“Indeed. Look what it did.”

You try to start Mal’s heart again, but can’t seem to get it. Nina kneels down next to you, lifting her hand to his chest.

“I’ll get his heart started again. You focus on the wound.”

You take a deep breath, then pull the knife out of him, quickly moving your hands to sew his skin back together.

You’re so focused on saving Mal, that you don’t realize Alina has knelt down next to you again.

“He’s putting up a good fight, this one. Like something’s holding him on the other side. Give him a reminder then, of what matters over here.” Nina tells her.

After a few moments Mal wakes up, gasping for air. You sigh in relief, leaning back to check over the rest of the group. Inej and Zoya are both unharmed, staring down at Kirigan’s body.

Zoya stays with the body, while the other five of you start the hike back to the Spinning Wheel. Your spirits lift as you get closer and closer, and enter through one of the walls.

There are bodies strewn about on the ground, and groups of people gathered with hushed conversations. Their attention all turns towards your group as you enter though. Most of them are watching Alina, giving her silent thanks for finally destroying the Fold. Kaz’s eyes are locked on Inej, only briefly scanning over her, before he looks to you and gives you a slight nod.

You look past him to see Nikolai sitting with Tolya and Tamar. He’s got blood smeared on the side of his head, and he struggles to rise to his feet. He can’t seem to take his eyes off you, slowly limping in your direction. You rush to him, holding his waist with one hand, and the other pressed against his chest.

“Nik, what happened? I leave you alone for a few days and you nearly get yourself killed.” Your words are teasing, but your tone doesn’t quite match.

“I’m okay.” He smiles at you.

“Let’s go sit down so I can heal you, alright?” You guide him away from the group to a more private area. He sits down on a crate, groaning at the pain in his leg.

You heal his leg, then sit next to him, with your hand hovering over the wound on his head. He’ll have to wash the dried blood off, but you’ve closed the wound.

His eyes wander over your face as you heal him. He feels whole, complete with you here next to him.

“I should go see if anyone else needs any help.” You say quietly, rising to your feet.

He grabs your hand in his, softly pulling you down next to him again. “Allow me to be selfish for a moment, and keep you here all for myself.”

You reach into your top, and pull the compass out from underneath it. You lift the chain up over your head and hold it out for him.

“It seems you need it more than I do.”

“No.” He closes your hands over it. “It kept you safe. And it brought you back to me.” He whispers.

His eyes glance down at your lips, then back into your eyes. It looks like he’s having an internal battle with himself. A battle that only ends when he leans forward and brushes his lips against yours. You lift your hands to his shoulders to steady yourself. He pulls you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

Everything comes rushing back to you in that moment. You softly push him away, breaking the kiss, and turn your head from him.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asks, reaching for your hand again.

You pull your hand away from his reach quickly. “This isn’t right Nikolai.” You stand up and take a step away from him. “We can’t do this, not when you’re engaged to Alina. I can’t-”

He’s quick to get up and move to stand in front of you. “Y/n, I assure you, my heart belongs to you.”

“You can’t say that Nikolai. You can’t just play around with my feelings.” You shake your head and wipe away the tears started to form in your eyes.

“Play with your feelings? Are you really so oblivious?” He scoffs. He takes your hands and holds them to his chest. “Listen to my heart. Hear the way it beats for you, just for you.” He takes a tentative step closer, so close to you that his nose brushes against the tip of yours. “It hurts, just how much I ache for you.”

“But Alina-”

“Was just a political move. I thought that an alliance with the sun summoner would strengthen Ravka.” He takes a deep breath. “But a marriage with her wouldn’t mean anything to me, not when I could’ve had you.”

“Nik…” You trail off, attempting to gather your thoughts.

He lets go of your hands, and moves to hold your face. “Tell me to leave. Tell me you never want to see me again, that you’re going to leave and live in Ketterdam, and I promise you, you won’t ever have to deal with me ever again.”

You can’t fathom doing any of that.

“Or, tell me that you’ll stay here with me, and that we’ll work this out. Tell me that you feel the same way I do. Because I will find a way to rule Ravka with you by my side, I swear to you.”

A smile starts to spread across your face. “You always have been stubborn sobachka.”

Before he can retort you pull him into a kiss, sealing your own promise to him, that your heart does in fact belong to him.

#nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #grishaverse

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uselessheretic · 2 years ago

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sorry if this is out of left field, but i’ve been thinking abt it for a while…i would consider myself a passive izzy enjoyer and i am not at all an “izzy loved the toe cutting” person, /however/, I feel like you (the general you, not you specifically) can’t deny that he was happy about it after the fact? like the next day the “blackbeard is himself again” line he is definitely jazzed abt that and part of the demonstration that blackbeard is himself is the toe mutilation

also i’ve been wanting to ask more active izzy lovers/supporters, again i enjoy the man and am interested to see where his story goes but i will never ever forgive him for what he did to ed when he was trying to heal, is that something izzy stans don’t think about? don’t care about? take it as a given that everyone agrees was fucked up it so it just never gets brought up? sorry i’m not trying to put you in any specific group if you don’t want to be or assume where you stand but i enjoy reading your meta so was interested if you had any thoughts about it

i feel like a lot of it is up to interpretation! there's not generally one opinion held on things, and i've seen different ways people have read those scenes.

i know that i've seen quite a few people challenge the idea that izzy is "happy" when he does his "blackbeard is himself again" but it's really just how you read it. when you look at how he smiles there, it feels kinda? off?? forced. honestly, i don't think he's actually glad about it, but i also don't think izzy is aware that he's not. i feel like a lot of his emotions ep10 is very mixed up and muddy where he's largely acting from an emotional place while not even knowing what that place is. whether he's actually glad in the moment is something you can read multiple ways imo, but i do feel like even if read as "he's happy this happened" most izzy people would still be like "but that's not gonna last." what izzy thinks he wants isn't in line with what he actually wants, and i expect that to come to a head in s2 as izzy's forced to address the actual root of his issues surrounding ed.

as for the being cruel to ed when ed's sad, again, i just think that's up to the fan. one place izzy stans defs differ is that the majority of them don't view whatever ed was doing as healing. i think it's a mixed bag personally, where ed's first reaction to heartbreak of doing things like reaching out to lucius is good! but it's not perfect where he really comes off like the drunk girl crying in the bathroom when singing his song to the crew. it's definitely better than the fucking kraken though lol but even with ed's song you can see how his interpretation of lucius' "let go and be born again" goes a bit over his head and straight back into suicide ideation. the talent show and the crew's agreement towards it feels kinda like damage control, and another continuation of ed being avoidant to his actual issues. he never actually mentions stede during this time and the first time his name comes up is with izzy who's being an absolute cunt, but it evokes a strong reaction from ed. i don't think ed would be happy if anybody mentioned stede.

in general though, i feel like it is kinda taken as a given that izzy's actions were fucked up, but that it's not on the same level as the way people in fandom talk about it. izzy was being purposefully cruel. he was trying to hurt ed. there can be some reasoning behind it, about whether ed's behavior is threatening their lives or that izzy's acting out from feeling abandoned yadda yadda yadda, but it doesn't excuse it anymore so than it excuses ed's actions in retaliation.

the show is about imperfect people where characters like stede and ed in another show would be straight up villains. stede's literally a deadbeat dad who abandoned his family. if this story was from alma's pov we'd want him dead. ed made fang kill his dog! that on its own is almost always considered an irredeemable offense that automatically excludes a character from redemption, but it doesn't in ofmd. izzy's actions are bad, but they're no worse than stede or ed's. i feel like fans just take it as another continuation of how fucked up ed and izzy's relationship is where you can see the way that they escalate throughout the season dragging each other down deeper.

there's no need to justify it or defend it because why would there be? he fucked up and was a dick. for a lot of izzy stans, that doesn't exclude him from sympathy though. it's just adding flavor to the everything bagel of their cringefail marriage.

#ofmd

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thephantomcasebook · 2 years ago

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Dyana returning for s2 and possibly being involved in jaehaery's death and thus ultimately making it "aegon's fault" is kinda funny when otherwise the blame would've mostly been put at aemond's feet (daemon's hit on the children aside. and let's be for real, it's definitely going to be daemon's hit, and rhaenyra will look like a hapless bafoon). I never "blamed" aemond for b&c reading f&b, but it very much read as a situation of one thing leads to another. aegon's "involvement" now muddies the waters, which can be interesting, but considering aegon's track record on the show it just seems kinda overkill at this point.

I honestly think that a lot of the ground work of vilifying Aegon and creating the fiction that Aemond is a bad person - despite the fact that no one has ever came at me with a reason that Aemond is a bad person in Season 1. It is all in service of trying to justify "Blood and Cheese" and exonerating Rhaenyra from any blame.

Cause, on the surface, in Fire & Blood, there is actually no justification for the murder of the children. Luke was sent into dangerous territory for a dangerous mission, armed - You are always armed when you're riding a dragon. And he got caught up in a personal grudge and duel of which he is he 100 percent responsible for starting and fostering over near a lifetime of resentment.

The murder of Jaehaerys is supposed to be a monstrous act condoned by monstrous people who are unquestionably the villains of the entire dance. And if you still don't believe that, than all you have to do is look at Viserys II basically putting a Taboo on his own parents names - barring his children and nieces and nephews from ever naming or recognizing Daemon and Rhaenyra as legitimate in any way. And why all of Daemon's children defied his legacy by marrying into his rivals families and continuing their lines.

GRRM has a ton of inconsistencies (Shoutout to @duxbelisarius Military Breakdown series) but he has always baked into the narrative that Rhaenyra was a monster and a villain - and is forever remembered that way by the ASoIaF Universal history, not because of sexist historians, but because of her own children who survived.

The main issue with the telling of this story is that it is being told in the 2020's, in which leftist political activism has become the orthodoxy and official opiate mainstream religion of Hollywood and London entertainment industries. Thus, because of inter-sectional feminism reaching cult like devotion in writers rooms and board rooms throughout mainstream entertainment, they cannot show a woman, a protagonist, becoming evil and acknowledging it as evil.

Don't get me wrong, they're still evil characters doing evil things, it's just that these corrupted and morally bankrupt people think that what they're writing is moral. That in their fucked up algebra "Tragedy" + "Justification" X "Girl Boss" = Morality.

Therefore, as long as they give every woman that has been wronged by Aegon and Aemond justification to avenge a tragedy by being proactive girl bosses, than anything that happens to Jaehaerys is morally right.

Thus, in our minds, what happens in "Blood & Cheese" is an unforgivable and purely evil act of savagery that everyone in Westeros for all time condemns as monstrous.

But to nut jobs like Sara Hess, Olivia Cooke, and Emma D'arcry (Or any "activist" in general) - who is only interested in their political and social agenda - Rhaenyra, Dyana, The White Worm, are villainized by sexist historians for being women of their age with power or agency and that they were justified in their evil acts because they are powerful women. In fact the idea that them being women, in general, is justification enough to do terrible things and see it as morally good, because, they were women.

It's the kind of sociopathic behavior rampant on this site with a bunch of weirdo window lickers cuing over "Let women do crime!" which is fine, but those same people also don't want those same women to face the consequences, to face condemnation, to face justice, for the evil they do.

So, to sum up, I disagree with your premise that Rhaenyra will be in the dark about "Blood & Cheese". What I think is that they're building up moral justifications through villainizing the male characters of Team Green of why Rhaenyra is justified in doing what she and Daemon plan to do.

#House of the Dragon #Aemond Targaryen #Aegon II Targaryen #Anti Rhaenyra Targaryen #Sara Hess

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evita-shelby · 3 years ago

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Hello ❤️ I’m glad your feeling better! ❤️ I saw your post about requests being open and I was maybe wondering if I send request a fluffy Michael Grey x fem!reader for you maybet? There would be no smut though if that’s ok! The idea would be that the reader is Charlie’s nanny and both her and Mike like eachother but are oblivious. Then one day the kids are playing and get Michael all muddy (b/c I believe s2 and 3 Mike would love playing with kids like his foster brother!) and he has to take a bath so he goes upstairs and just assumes a maid had run one for him and goes behind like a folding curtain to undress, not realizing that the reader had just stepped out for a second to grab towels for HER bath. And then yeah, if your comfortable with it it would just be like the kinda funny/embarrassing trope of accidentally walking in on someone undressing and both being kinda frozen in shock and dying a little inside? And maybe like Michael ends up turning around so fast he like runs into a door and gives himself a bloody nose😂

maybe at the end after they both avoid each other for the rest of the day they end up admiring their feeling but idk?😂 you can do whatever you want with it if you’d like!❤️❤️ You don’t have to do it too if you don’t want to❤️❤️Have a great day!!❤️

The Bath

I had too much fun writing it, could be that i might be a it high from the cough medicine lol

Also reader dislikes Grace, is Danny Whizz Bang's niece and has a habit of stealing

Gif by @pennylanefics

You didn’t always get time for a relaxing bath. For fuck’s sake you were a nanny and when your stuck up rich lady boss died, you had to stay and take care of Charlie, the only good thing to come out of her.

That had been three months ago. Barely spring. You reckon you haven’t had a break since then.

Shelby was a good and fair boss, nice to look at, but too old for you. His wife had tried to fire you several times before she died because she was threatened by a pretty young thing like you who disliked her for all the shit she did in 1919.

Your uncle, Danny Owens, had died because of her. Not that she ever knew.

If anyone asked you, Mr. Shelby should’ve married that fancy rich lady with the horses John had told you about. At least that one could be trusted not to frame a man for their crimes.

But you adored little Charlie, reminded you so much of your own siblings and your cousins who depended on your wages and Shelby’s good nature.

He was two and just beginning to be trouble.

But he was playing with John’s kids and Michael Gray under Polly’s and Esme’s watchful eyes, so you had time for both a long hot bath and a nap. Been so long since you’ve napped during the day.

Nap and dream of Michael, a little voice in your head teased you.

You liked him from the moment you met him at Polly’s doorstep. You’ve wanted to fuck him since you saw him take off his shirt to help Curly with the horses.

But he, much like his cousin, liked rich girls. And you were too poor to be middle class let alone rich. So, the only Michael you’d have in your life is the one in your rather dirty dreams.

You just needed some towels and maybe that good bath scent you’ve been stealing from the late Mrs. Shelby’s bathroom supplies. It wasn’t like the dead woman needed them anyways.

---

Michael hadn’t had wholesome fun like this in what felt like years.

He’s still laughing, being careful not to get mud on things and doesn’t notice he went into the wrong room. His room was between his mother’s and Finn’s, but everything in this fucking house looks the same and the nanny had the room between Polly’s and the nursery.

His mother had likely ordered Mary to ready a bath for him, how sweet of her. Pol was always thoughtful like that, he smiled to himself as he closed the door to the bath.

He wonders if it was Y/N who drew him the bath. She liked the floral scents and the fancy soaps and making sure it was the right temperature.

Michael should man up and talk to her, but part of him is worried she’s going to say no.

Polly had told him that she wouldn’t, but he can’t help, but listen to the voice in his head that tells him he’s not good enough for her.

He’s too busy thinking about how pretty she looks in Grace’s stolen earrings this morning while he undresses that he doesn’t notice this is not his room.

----

You’re too busy humming some classical song you were told to play for Charlie to soothe him as you pushed the bath door open with your back.

You were sure you’d left it open, but maybe you closed it by accident.

You turn and you scream, dropping Mrs. Shelby’s fancy French soaps on the floor, and your turned back around with every intention of running out of the room.

Naked as the day your mother wrenched him out of Polly’s cunt, Michael Gray.

He shouts back and trips as he scrambled for his pants or the nearest towel.

“I am so sorry, Y/N, I assumed you were done readying the bath.” He grabs the towel and winced as he wrapped it around his waist.

“Mike, why the fuck would I let you use my bath?” you ask gesturing to all your things on the counter.

“Fuck, not again.” He muttered when he realized it wasn’t his room.

It wasn’t his fault. The lady of the house had purposely redecorated some rooms to look almost exactly the same as the others. After all, she was going to sack you the morning after her charity gala after she caught you gossiping with Polly and Ada about her.

It was uncharitable to think it, but no one ever liked her anyways, so you think it: she died right on time.

#michael gray x fem!reader #michael gray x reader #michael gray #grace bashing not sorry

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