#[ I spent way to much time on this trying to reference ONE book so I'm just going to post this and if anyone catches it great.

[twisted-leader-of-something]

The Centenary

Something was here.

Something was there.

Some big event was here, forboding across the land. And most couldn't see it.

But Ramshackle Dorm could.

Grim embraced the kindness being shown to him, while Yuu and Quentin. . . were more nervous about the situation.

Everyone around them was more generous than the three remembered, especially at Night Raven College.

More parties and celebrations being thrown for no real reason.

There was more joy in the air. And it seems everything felt that joy.

Well, all but Ramshackle dorm.

It was. . . interesting.

Friends where suddenly more willing to pay for lunch, less homework and schoolwork from teachers.

Everyone was still, well, everyone just with more. . . generosity.

It was strange.

Strange times indeed.

"Dorm Leader Nighty-Sallow!" Yuu called out and Grim came into Ramshackle's dorm lounge to their dorm leader, sitting in her rocking chair.

"Yes?" Quentin answered, stopping what she was doing.

"I found these strange coins!" Yuu proclaimed.

"Even stranger than the other coins with the strange symbols and 100s on them?" Quentin asked, to which Yuu nodded before pulling out three coins-all with pictures of them on it with the strange symbols and 100s plus another set of symbols for their pocket, and putting it on the table.

Grim's chest puffed out with pride. "It's nice to know we're finally getting the recognition we deserve, especially me!"

"But who would do this? And why coins?" Yuu asked, with a hint of worry in their voice.

Quentin pulled out her magical pen-and the coins glowed with magical power for a moment before falling back on the table. "I can't find anything. It seems like totally normal coins."

"Huh." Yuu said in confusion, but Grim's chest puffed out again.

"See! It's a coin of recognition! Someone finally recognizes us for our hard work!"

"But who made it?" Yuu asked, once again.

"Could be the same people made this 100 coins." Quentin said. "And Yuu seems to be able to find use of it, so if you want to keep it Yuu, you can keep it."

"Really?" Yuu asked, with a face that Quentin couldn't tell was joy, confusion, or disgust, so it probably was a mix of all of them.

"Yes. My magic has determined they're harmless, so I don't see anything bad about keeping them if they might help you with whatever you're doing."

Yuu nodded. The coins stayed in Yuu's possession.

"We're going to the National Art Museum in the Land of Dawn!" Dire Crowley smiled to the other dorm leaders.

He'd called an emergency dorm leader meeting. . . for a sudden announcement?

Typical Crowley. Quentin looked at the cheery old crow with scorn.

"I'm sorry?" Riddle Rosehearts, Heartslabyul's dorm leader asked, clearly confused.

But Quentin knew Riddle. Riddle wasn't asking a question, he was panicking at the suddenness of the Dire Crowley's announcement.

"Yay!" Kalim smiled, even pumping his fist in the air before the tattooed boy blinked a few time sand dawned a confused face. "Wait. Where is the Museum?"

"In the Land of Dawn, didn't you listen?" Leona Kingscholar spoke up, his ears twitching in irritation.

"Right, sorry." Kalim rubbed the back of his head.

"An Art Museum?" Malleus leaned over to Quentin.

"It's like an art gallery, only it's more for the public than for one family," Quentin answered to which Malleus nodded.

"Why, exactly?" Azul Ashengrotto spoke up.

"Because they're holding an anniversary party for a '100 years'!" Dire Crowley cheerfully said, making almost everyone in the room sigh.

"We've got a free pass to the Museum because there's an event going on and you've always wanted to go there, didn't you?" Quentin simply looked at Crowley.

"My Ms. Nighty-Sallow! You make it sound like I planned this out!"

"Because I'm pretty sure you did." Quentin sighed and the tablet in the room, representing Idia, made a snickering noise.

"Quentin realy said no mercy today. We stan a girl who ran out of fucks to give." Idia giggled.

"It's true that the Nation Museum of Art in the Land of Dawn is famous for its' art, but this truly is a once-in-a-lifetime for you all as well! We've been invited to the celebration afterward as well!" Crowley said.

"A party?" Vil Schoenheit commented, and Crowley nodded enthusiastically, seeing to make the Pormfoire dorm leader cringe.

Quentin narrowed her eyes at Crowley then looked around the room-the other dorm leaders, besides Kalim, didn't seem all that interested in the event, and if Quentin was honest, neither was she.

A Party? With art people?

No, thank you. Quentin already had enough pretentious people to deal with in her life.

"I'm sorry, Headmaster." Quentin said formally, seeming to grab Crowley's, and well as everyone else's attention. "I don't think I, or my dormmates for that matter, will make to the event. After all, I, much less Ramshackle dorm have no formal clothing for a centenury event, much less have the resources to get there on our own plus our school obligations will prohibit us from fully joining the event because we've been so busy lately. Please go without us."

The other dorm leaders seemed to catch on to what Quentin was saying and they shot smirks at her as if to tell her she'd done a good job, well, besides Kalim, who seemed to be downtrodden at the mention of Ramshackle's financial situation and Crowley who seemed surprised for a moment.

"Aw!" Kalim said, rushing over to the other side of the table and holding unto Quentin's hands seeming to tear up. "You all can't go?"

"I'm sorry Kalim. Ramshackle just doesn't have the resources like the other dorms all do." Quentin said. "We'll have to sit this event out."

But before Quentin could even relish in her clever comeback to Crowley's proclamation, Crowley spoke back. "Oh, there's no need to worry about that."

Several 'Tch!' noises sounded through the air as well as a small laugh from Malleus.

"Because it's a school event! The school will provide the outfits necessary and the transportation."

"Oh, I see." Quentin said, to which Kalim tackled her into her chair with hug.

"Isn't it great Ramshackle can go?!" Kalim smiled.

"Indeed, it is." Quentin said, sighing.

So, Quentin walked back to her dorm and told her dormmates.

"We've got a celebration to go to tomorrow," Quentin told Yuu and Grim, making them confused.

"For what?" Yuu asked.

"We've been invited to an art museum and Crowley wants the whole school to go." Quentin said.

"What's an art musuem?" Grim asked.

"It's a place where pieces of art are put in one place. Normally it's a public place." Quentin answered.

Grim nodded in understanding.

"There's a party afterwords and we're also going to that as well."

"Really?!" Grim's eyes lit up.

"Yup." Quentin sighed.

"When is this party?"

"Tomorrow."

"TOMORROW?!" Yuu and Grim said in almost complete unison, though with completely different tones.

"YES!" Grim cheered, bouncing up and down with his whole body with pure joy.

Yuu, on the other hand, was not happy. They seemed rather confused and worried. "Isn't that too sudden?"

Quentin sighed. "You know that old crow. He does what he pleases."

Yuu sighed as well before smiling. "Well, at least we're getting out of school for this."

Quentin then smiled herself. "Yes, that's one bonus."

The next day, the dorm found a box.

"Open it! Open it!" Grim cheered from his dorm leader's shoulder.

"I'm working on it, Grim." Quentin teased and opened the box.

Inside the box was. . . outfits.

"Outfits?" Yuu questioned.

"This must be Crowley's outfits for us." Quentin said. "I feel bad for Crewel."

"I want to try it on!" Grim said.

"Grim, we have to-"

"I WANT TO PUT IT ON!" Grim quoted, even throwing himself into the box and clinging to the fabric with all the power his tiny paws could muster.

"Grim, listen to me!" Quentin picked up the cat, who still clung to the fabric but seemed to be listening. "We can put them on after we eat breakfast! None us have eaten yet!"

Grim lit up and the proposition. "Oh yeah! Of course we can!"

Grim then let go of the shiny fabric and went rushing towards the kitchen and Quentin and Yuu looked at each other before laughing their way to the kitchen.

After a decent breakfast, Grim insisted the group try on the outfits in his and Yuu's room. So, with a very insistent Grim, Quentin brought the box to the duo's room.

After laying out the outfits, there were three of them, each in a bag with each of their names on it.

A small bag that had the name 'Grim', there was a small silver and purple suit that Grim enthusiastically put on when he saw how sparkly he was. He had a silver sparkly long suit jacket with silver buttons, a white shirt with the same silver buttons, a purple pair of pants with silver buttons, and a small black bowtie. But, after a while, Grim seemed to be struggling to put on the pants before he gave a pleading look to Quentin, a signal he needed help.

Quentin gave a sigh then a smile then looked at Yuu. "I'll help Grim put on the suit. You go put on your outfit in the bathroom, if you need help, I'm here to help. I'll put on my outfit when I know you two have yours on."

To which, Yuu nodded, grabbed the bag with their name on it, and then went out the door, hopefully to go to the bathroom.

Soon enough, Quentin went back to what she was doing and helped Grim into his clothes. First, the pants were a lot more form-fitting than what Grim was used to since, well, he normally doesn't wear anything.

"Hey, is 100 years a long time?" Grim asked, seeming genuine.

Quentin laughed. "As a human, I think so."

"That's not a good answer." Grim pouted as Quentin finished buttoning up his vest, which honestly acted more like a vest.

"I'm serious." Quentin smiled at Grim before she pulled out the coat. "Everything has its own sense of time. Humans only live around 100 years, so for us, it's a long time. But to other species, that may not be as long. Some Beastman can live longer than humans, so they think it's a shorter amount of time, like a few years. And the Fae, well, to them a hundred years feels a little more than what we call a year."

Grim looked at her in wonder. "How long will I live?"

Quentin laughed again. "That depends on you."

Grim looked confused as Quentin adjusted his coat and continued, "I'm not sure what kind of monster you are, so I can't tell you how long you're expected to live. But I can tell you this-as long as you take care of yourself, you'll live a long life."

Grim looked at Quentin for a moment and then spoke again, "So then, what's a 'legecy', and how do I make it?"

Quentin looked at Grim in confusion, but then stopped, as she seemed to have finished. "Ah. Has Crewel been talking about it?"

Grim nodded.

Quentin sighed. "A Legecy-is complicated."

"Complicated?" Grim tilted his head.

"A legacy is something you leave behind after you've done something. It's what happens after an action. It can be good, it can be bad. Like a magical war leaves a legacy of damage to anything around it, or a magician can leave a legacy of people wanting to learn magic as well."

Grim's face scrunched. "That is complicated."

But QUetin quickly grabbed Grim in her arms and hugged him before Grim started to protest. "But you don't have to worry about it. It's too early for you to worry about your actions just yet. You're a young magician. It's okay to be irresponsible while you're learning how to deal with magic. I was irresponsible with my magic when I was still learning how to use it"

Grim looked at his dorm leader seriously. "Really?"

Quentin laughed. "I've done so many stupid things. I used to love flying on a broom-and I'd chase people around just for fun on my broom, or go to the highest place I could when people told me not to. Or I'd play with magical animals that weren't safe for me. I think it's better you learn your magic in a safe place than in the real world-where things can get complicated if you make one wrong move and they'll get mad at you."

Grim looked at Quentin-and but there was nothing there. There was nothing in those eyes of hers. A dead woman lived in those eyes. but Grim didn't have much time to study Quentin before not for long as Yuu walked in their outfit, and all of a sudden-the light in her eyes came back.

"What are you two doing?" Yuu asked.

"Waiting for you!" Grim said, jumping out of Quentin's arms and towards where Yuu was standing.

"You look good." Quentin stood up and looked at Yuu. "I think it suits you. You look like a polished diamond."

"Of my minion does!" Grim said cheerfully as Yuu blushed. "Only we could see their true worth before, but now the outfit they're wearing really shows it."

"Indeed it does. I bet the boys will regret ever treating you badly. after they see you" Quentin laughed

Yuu was starting to become the same color as Riddle face when he was mad. But they thought quickly and grabbed the bag with the dorm leader's name on it. "Are you going to make us do a fasion show by ourselves? Put yours on!"

"Sure, sure." Quentin said and she quickly cast a spell to put on her version of the purple and silver clothes.

The Dorm Leader's outfit was a dress silver princess dress with see-through silver sleeves and a huge white bow with a smaller purple bow on the inside and a purple strand flowing down the dress across the waistband of the dress with a silver asymmetrical skirt with a purple lining underneath. She also had a pair of matching purple gloves with a single silver bracelet on her left wrist and a pinwheel silver bow with a purple gem in her hair.

"You look beatiful, too." Yuu offered.

"Pfft." Quentin laughed as she put an arm around Yuu, the kind of way a close friend would when trying to tease, to pull you towards a place, to hold close and show that you were there. "No way. You look more beautiful then me!"

"No way!" Yuu laughed and pushed on back playfully.

But before the group could say anything else, a white flash of light came from the room, engulfing the room, and taking those inside with it.

Quentin clung to Yuu for dear life as they found themselves in a void of white, Quentin then looked around and saw Grim before quickly grabbing his hands and tucking them as close as she could into her chest as the surroundings around them seemed to be. . . almost coming into focus like a blur camera being adjusted to come back into focus.

Soon enough, Quentin's feet touched a solid surface. Then she started to see the lighting of the area, and then, she finally could see where her dorm was.

She was. . . in front of. . . what would you even call a building as big as this?

There was no way that was a house. It was simply too big for a single person. It seemed like it could fit a whole city comfortably.

A mansion? A castle?

Maybe both with how big it was.

The building in front looked something like a Cape Cod-Victorian styled mansion-castle that glowed with lurid light that shined into the sky as if it was announcing the building to the world. From what Quentin could tell, the building was made from stone, which had silver and purple decorations scattered all over the building, like what looked like party decorations. Ballons and various other objects seemed to be leaking from the windows like there were too many to hold inside and could burst at any moment.

The place looked so glittering and radiant that was almost like it was begging for them to come inside. And if Quentin was honest. . . this place was beyond gaudy. It almost made her sick how extravagant this place was.

Quentin no doubt this place was hiding something. There was no way this was just a party for a celebration. that was an excuse.

This was a display of wealth.

But. . . for what?

She, Yuu and Grim were in a garden of sorts with various displays of statues flowers, and shrubbery of all kinds.

And. . . the place was filled with people coming in and out that Quentin couldn't even get a count of people. . . and filled with noise.

"Quentin. . . where are we?" Grim asked.

"I. . . don't know." Quentin answered. "Are you two okay?"

To which Yuu and Grim nodded.

"Hello!" A voice appeared out of nowhere, and a glowing disc-like mouse head with dots all over that seemed to glow in the dark appeared out of nowhere, as well as a pair of gloved hands coming from the flat disc-like head.

Yuu and Grim let out a screech in panic while Quentin tried to pull out the dorm weapon. . . which had turned into a. . . white cane?

"Oh! I'm sorry, does your world not have technology?" the flat disc-like head creature said, fearfully..

"Um, I'm sorry, where are we?" Quentin asked, putting down the cane.

"The party, of course!" the robot smiled as if trying to calm them down.

"The party?" Grim poked his head out from Quentin's neck.

"Yes! You were invited by Mickey himself, weren't you?" the flat disc-like head robot asked.

"How do you know Mickey?" Yuu asked, and the robotic being beamed.

"Why, Mickey and Minnie knows everyone! They're the ones hosting the party, after all! You three are Mickey's friends, as well, as under Oswald's protection! Mickey never, ever leaves anyone close to him out! Nor would Oswald ever let you all be forgotten!" the robot smiled.

"What are you?" Grim asked, to which the robot head smiled kindly.

"I'm Toodles, I'm here to help you!" the flat disc-like head said. "Now, I know you three don't have much time to party with us-"

"Woah, woah, woah there." Quentin said, even unintentionally slamming the cane into the ground. "We never got an invitation."

The floating flat disc-like head looked confused. "No. You did."

The robot's hands pointed to one of Yuu's pockets. To which, Yuu shuffled through their pockets pulling out the three coins that said a word, and then a "100" and the Ramshackle trio's faces on it, and when the robot saw the little coins in Yuu's hand, he beamed. "See? You have an invitation!"

"Um, how does this count as a-" Yuu asked but was quickly cut off.

"So, like I said before," the robot head started to float away and the Ramshackle trio followed him. "Mickey knows you all have business to attend to soon, but nonetheless, he still wanted you to enjoy the festivities on a day such as this. He said you all can come back later if you'd like, and he'll even provide dinner for you all."

"Dinner?!" Grim smiled, making Quentin sigh.

Toodles smiled with such optimism it kind of freaked Quentin out a little. "Yes! Should I tell him you'll be having dinner with him?!"

"Hold on, can we go to our obligation and see how we feel afterward? We've got a lot on our plate for our event." Quentin quickly jumped in, before Toodles could force them into something else.

But the robot didn't seem phased at all as he and the trio approached a large door with grand cravings on it of a mouse's head. "Why, of course, you can!"

Toodles then opened the door to reveal. . . A grand party with so many people Quentin couldn't even begin to count them. If she thought there were so many coming in and out-she was wrong. There were so many people here she couldn't get a headcount. But she noticed one thing-all of them were wearing white, purple, or both.

Just like her dorm's outfits.

And they were partying it up.

Quentin only had to look around for a few moment before she understood what kind of party this was right now.

She'd seen this kind of party before. Not exactly like this, but in a different form.

This. . . was a pure party on the verge of going into chaos.

Almost everyone where was drunk on pure ecstasy. Like all of them were truly happy.

But before Quentin could deduce what exactly what the party atmosphere was-she noticed there was a small crowd of people around the door, as if waiting for them. An anthroponotic group of animals, to be exact. She could see two white ducks, one male one female, a tall black dog-like creature, two smaller chipmunks, a yellow dog, a female black cat, a female black mouse and. . .

Wait. . . is that. . . ?

She recognized a rabbit and a mouse. They were. . . Mickey and Oswald, right?

They were the ones she saw in her dream when the school was almost taken over by Malleus' Unique Magic.

The rabbit, Oswald, if Quentin remembered right, was wearing a white top hat and rubbing a white cane with an outfit mirroring Grim's outfit, only without the buttons on his pants and an open vest.

The mouse, which if Quentin's memory served her well was Mickey, who was also wearing a similar outfit as Grim. No scratch that-it was almost the exact same outfit, where it not for the buttons on the mouse's shorts being bigger than Grim's.

"What if they got lost? Or they didn't send them here? What if-" the rabbit fretted, alongside the male mouse who had a very worried look on his face.

"Oswald," A female black cat in a white dress and hat spoke up, holding the rabbit's shoulders, and another mouse figure put her hand on the other mouse's shoulders. "Your dorm will be okay. They're probably coming with Toodles as we speak."

"I've brought the last guests, Mickey!" Toodles announced, and the group of animal's heads whipped around to look at the trio. When Oswald saw the three of them, his whole body lit up with joy.

The kind of joy that you get from your guardians when you graduate from school, or doing something great and accomplish something-a mix of pride, pure joy, hope, and love all in one bundle. That moment that you remember as a happy moment for years when you have nothing left.

"There you all are!" the black rabbit smiled, and quickly tackled the three in a bone-crushing hug. The kind of loving hug like they hadn't seen you in a long time. "I was getting worried about you three."

"Um, hi." Yuu spoke up.

"What is going on?" Grim asked.

The group of animals looked at each other for a moment in confusion but after a few moments, they all seemed to have realized something.

"Ah. It must have been so sudden for you all. Sorry 'bout that." Oswald scratched behind his head.

"I'll explain," Micket spoke up. "but first let's sit down and eat. You all must be hungry after the journey."

Grim's once more eyes lit up at the mention of food, but upon seeing his realization, he seemed to snap back to being skeptical, like Quentin and Yuu were. Despite this, none of the other animal-like creatures seemed alarmed they seemed rather relaxed.

Mickey lead the trio to a more secluded area of the party, one where you could still see and hear the party but wasn't as loud as in the main room and the other animals followed suit, almost seeming to form a circle around the Ramshackle trio as they walked towards the spot the mouse had designated.

As the group walked, Mickey kept getting called out to.

"Hey Mickey!" A boy with spikey brown hair called out. "Where did you go?"

"Hey-ya, Sora!" Mickey called back. "I was just waiting for the last of other friends!"

"Ah. The ones you said would be late?" the boy answered back. "You got to introduce me to them!"

Mickey nodded. "You betcha!"

"Mickey!" A man with elf-like apperance with red hair appeared before the Ramshackle trio upside down before looking towards the black mouse. "Are those the ones from Twisted Wonderland?"

"Yup!" Mickey nodded. "But they need some time, it being their first time with this and all."

The man gave a smirk before flying off.

"Mickey." A lion that looked. . . No. The King of Beasts said from a nearby bed. "Don't us me wait too long."

"I won't Scar!" Mickey answered back, with fear in his voice.

Mickey then guided the group up a flight of stairs, and then guided the group to a large table, and gestured to the seats, Ramshackle did find their seats, to and the other animals sat near them, especially Oswald and Mickey, who sat closest to the dorm members.

"To answer your question, Grim." Mickey said. "Well, I think it would be best if we introduce ourselves. You all know me. Just in a different form."

"Different form?" Grim questioned before Mickey nodded.

"Hold on a 'eond." Mickey smiled, before he seemed to change and. . .changed into someone they knew.

The red pants with the white buttons and big yellow shoes and black eyes with no pupils.

"Mickey!" Yuu and Grim said at the same time in joyous voice.

"Aw shucks." Mickey simply said, matching their joy and putting his hands on his hips. "Now you're embarrassing me."

Yuu and Grim seemed to relax after seeing a familiar face, but Quentin didn't.

"This is Minnie, my girlfriend," Mickey gestured to the female mouse that had comforted him earlier who gave a little wave.

"This is Goofy and Donald, who I'd mentioned earlier, Yuu." Mickey smiled, gesturing to the male duck and tall dog-like beings who smiled at the Ramshackle members.

"This is Daisy." the female duck smiled kindly and waved a little at the trio.

"This is my dog, Pluto." Mickey gesturing to the yellow dog.

"And the chipmunks you saw earlier-they where named CHip and Dale. They're off getting food." Mickey sighed.

"Or causing trouble." Donald offered.

"And but not least, this is Oswald, and his wife, Orsentia." Mickey gestured to Oswald and the cat who had comforted him eariler. Oswald and Orsentia beamed at being introduced.

"I've been waiting to meet you three ever since you were sorted into my dorm." Oswald smiled while Yuu looked confused, and now Quentin looked alarmed.

Grim, meanwhile seemed to find nothing wrong here, smirked. "Of course you have! I mean, who wouldn't want to meet the Great Grim?!" which seemed to make Yuu and Quentin sigh but made the other animals laugh.

"Oh, it's so nice Twisted Wonderland could join the party this year!" Minnie said, clapping her hands together, and a wave of nods came from the anthropomorphic animals. "Despite how old you are, you weren't invited to anything so only Mickey could really tell us anything about what was going on over there. I thought they wouldn't allow you all into the party this year, but thankfully I was wrong!"

"Yeah!" Goofy smiled. "It's nice to have some new faces around here!"

"Yeah!" Donald cheered. "I can't wait to see how your story plays out!"

After some chatting, Grim seemed to get more comfortable and Yuu seemed okay enough to go with him eventually, the two first years were led down the stairs with Donald, Daisy, Goofy, and Pluto to where the food was.

Quentin watched them as they went into the main party with a look in her eyes that was hard to pinpoint. Sadness? Confusion? Unease?

"What's the long face for, my elect?" Oswald spoke up.

"I'm sorry I just-" Quentin sighed. "I don't understand. I'm really confused."

"You don't have to." Mickey simply said. "This is a party, you're here to have fun."

"That's not what I mean-" Quentin said. "What's all this about Twisted Wonderland and 'new faces'? Who is 'they'? What do you mean by 'your story'?"

Both Mickey and Oswald looked at each other for a moment before looking at Quentin with a smile on their faces. The kind of empathetic smile like they are hiding something-but not without reason. THe kind of smile Quentin saw too often.

Then Oswald took Quentin's hands. "It's alright. You don't have to understand."

"Understand what?" Quentin asked.

Oswald sighed, the kind of tired sigh like a father would give. A sigh that worries the child on the other end, despite the father not meaning to. "There are things in this world that are completely out of your understanding. Out of the laws and principles of your world. Forces beyond comprehension are at play in your everyday life. And while it is scary-it's completely okay."

"You don't have to understand everything," Mickey added, also taking Quentin's hands, placing his on top of hers and Oswald's as if to protect them. "Actually, it may be better if you turn a blind eye to this one. You won't have to feel the pain like we do."

"Pain?" Quentin asked.

"Think of this as a dream." Mickey smiled and said in such a soft voice, it was like he was comforting Quentin as if trying to comfort her very being. "And I think you'll be alright."

Quentin looked at Mickey and Oswald in confusion, but the rabbit and the mouse seemed to want to change the subject, and eventually lead Quentin down the stairs into the party as well.

Mickey and Oswald lead Quentin to the food table and give Quentin one of each food despite her protests and insist she try some.

The food was good-there was many kinds to try, all oddly enough either looked like people at the party or was based on a theme and Grim and Yuu seemed to enjoy it even if people kept coming up to them.

Eventually, Quentin was surrounded by just as many people asking so many questions about her, Twisted Wonderland, what was going on that Quentin was starting to feel overwhelmed. She wasn't sure when exactly sure when she lost track of people, but she did after a while and started going through the motions, hoping she'd survive.

The Great Seven came to the trio first and spoke with the trio. They went parading the three around like favored children to a bunch other other people, who also struck up a conversation with Quentin. Quentin couldn't remember the conversation to save her life-but she thought it was mostly praise and asking about oddly specific things...

Next, Quentin remembers talking to some princesses and princes after the Great Seven, they probably asked the trio were right and then asked them a few questions.

Quentin remembers seeing the people from stories she'd read as a child-The Brave Prince, The Wicked Queen, The Designer Princess, The Lawyer, The Foreign Queen and even the Foreign Princess who all seemed to love her and treated her to lot. Quentin really felt a connection to the Foreign Princess

Next, Quentin remembers a blur of others who were like her-and the rest of it Quentin doesn't remember at all. Things blended into each other until things became as shiny as the silver on everyone's bodies.

Yuu and Grim seemed tired of talking, as after a while, they started to hide behind Quentin whenever someone came up to them like scared children hiding from strangers.

But, before anything else could happen, a clock chimed and everyone seemed to suddenly rush outside.

"What's going on?!" Quentin asked as the Foreign Princess dragged her out, but the Princess simply smiled.

"It's almost time!" the princess in blue smiled as widely as she could.

"Time?"

"It's almost 5:30 for them!" the Princess proclaimed.

Quentin looked confused, but let the princess drag her outside.

When she got outside, almost everyone was outside, looking at the sky as if waiting for something before someone started to count down.

"10!"

"9!"

"8!'

"7!"

"6!"

"5!"

"4!

"3!"

"2!"

"1!"

A loud bell rang outside, and as soon as the bell rang, the loud cheer and animals calls ripped through the people around her.

Bottles popped, glasses clinked, party-poppers went off, balloons and streamers were released into the open air and people hugged each other.

A hysteria of joy flooded in the area and infected the people around her.

Quentin looked at the darkness that the light didn't touch.

And all of a sudden, she was in the party, and not in the party at the same time.

Quentin opened her eyes.

"Child of Andalasia?" Malleus Draconia called to Quentin. "Are you alright?"

Quentin reached up her hand. "I fell asleep, didn't I?"

Malleus nodded. "It is time for us to go."

Quentin laughed as she place a arm over her head. "I had a strange dream just now."

"Is that so?" Malleus asked.

"I don't remember much-only shades of silver, purple, gold and black and talking to people and something with fireworks."

Malleus seemed confused. "Was it good?"

"I think so."

[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season one

Chapter Sixteen - Entanglement

♡♡♡

When you wake up in the morning, you spend a good few moments simply smiling up at your ceiling. The memories of last night come rushing back to you.

You feel giddy.

When the concert had finally ended, Lord Hardy escorted you out to your carriage. He plucked a rose from a nearby potted rose bush and gave it to you. He also had not let you depart without placing a kiss upon your gloved hand.

Your mother had been ecstatic on the way home.

The end of the season was drawing in. It seemed you had managed to secure a match after all. Perhaps you would write to him once he returned to the country.

Your mother and yourself would be staying in London.

Your maid came to wake you, and before you knew it, you were up and ready to face the day. You met your mother for breakfast. All she did was gush about the concert and how proud of you she was.

You couldn't stop smiling.

As you tuck into your breakfast, the butler comes in and declares you have received a gift. You glance at your mother and then back at him as a maid comes in carrying a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

"From Lord Hardy, ma'am."

You grin and look at your mother as she squeals with glee.

Things are looking up for you.

♡♡♡

"Then where did you meet her?" Elosie asks her brother as she follows him through the house.

She was, of course, referring to Genevieve.

"About town," he responds.

"At her shop?"

"Should you not be off somewhere, getting ready to attend your very first ball?" Benedict asks her, hoping to cease her questioning.

Eloise groans.

Hyacinth looks up at Anthony and asks if she may join in on the fun this summer at Aubrey Hall. She is asking about their usual game of Pall Mall.

Anthony snaps out of his thoughts and agrees that she may, as long as she does not touch his lucky mallet.

Eloise sits down with Benedict, continuing to question him.

She had thought her brother had been interested in you, but it seemed she was wrong. Which made his friendship with the tailor even more intriguing to her.

"What other places might Madame Delacroix frequent besides her shop?"

There was also the thought that Eloise suspected the tailor to be Lady Whistledown.

"Many places, Eloise, for her many interests." Benedict responds, sketching in his book. He had still been working on his art since he last saw you.

"You mean her many secrets. You should be careful, Benedict. Madame Delacroix may not be who you think she is," Eloise says. "And consorting with her, well, there may be consequences."

Benedict shushes her quietly, hoping the others didn't hear that.

"I would have expected this from anyone but you," he says. "You think just because Madame Delacroix has a paid occupation, or because she does not reside with the bounds of Grosvenor Square, she's different. Is that it? That she is somehow less deserving of my attention because she is not whom polite society deems appropriate?"

"That is not what I'm saying at all." Eloise clarifies.

"Then what are you saying?"

Eloise sighs and looks at her brother. "You are right. I should prepare for our sister's ball."

"Perhaps you should."

Eloise stands to leave but is stopped by the entrance of Violet entering the room.

"Aunt Winnie jas sent word. Francesca will be arriving home tomorrow," Violet smiles.

"How exciting!" Hyacinth beams.

"Perhaps she can tell us of time spent far from London," Colin comments.

"Fran has missed so much," Gregory points out.

"Mm. Indeed." Violet nods. "It certainly has been an eventful season, what with Daphne and the duke, and then Anthony and..."

Anthony lifts his head.

"Yes, well, never mind." Violet stops herself from going further. She leaves the room.

Benedict sighs as he sketches in his book.

♡♡♡

Eloise knocks on the door of the modiste urgently. Madame Delacroix opens the door, dressed in her robe. Her shop wasn't even open today.

"Miss Eloise, you should come back another day when the shop is open."

"I had hoped you would make an exception for me," Eloise chuckles. "I need a dress for my sister's ball."

"You already have a dress for your sister's ball."

"I need another one. A young lady can never have too many dresses." Eloise forces out another chuckle.

She is let in.

"Oh! Perhaps this one." Eloise goes over to a bright yellow gown. "It would make me look quite in fashion in the eyes of the Featheringtons, I rather think. Unfortunate young ladies. They are still quite stung from Lady Whistledown's recent exposé."

Benedict lurks on the stairs, listening to his sister talk. Did she know he had come here?

"I wish the author would write something flattering about them!" Eloise continues.

"Perhaps she will."

"What makes you say that?" Eloise asks.

"Because she knows what is good for her business, and angering loyal customers is not good."

"No... No, it is not." Eloise agrees. "Whether those loyal customers be Featheringtons or Bridgertons, even... Lady Whistledown might wish to examine what she writes about both."

"Indeed."

"I have heard people say that men, such as my brother, if you will, can withstand rumour and gossip, but... I am not always so sure."

"I know why you are here, Miss Eloise. You are very smart, and you care very much about the people in your life, as you should. But you must know I have no intention of compromising anyone."

"That is good." Eloise says. "Because the queen is enraged. So whoever Whistledown is should be careful. I would hate her to be silenced before she has a chance to change her ways and make things right."

"I believe Whistledown is smart enough to take care of herself," Genevieve states.

"Yes. She certainly is." Eloise smiles. "Charming chatting with you, Madame Delacroix."

Eloise leaves.

"Lock the door." Benedict says, looking at her once his sister has left the shop.

♡♡♡

Lord Hardy had come to visit you. You hadn't stopped smiling the entire time he was at the house. Conversation was engaging and thrilling. You were eager to know more about him, and he about you.

Your mother watched you both talk feeling like everything was coming together.

When Lord Hardy requested you join him, your mother had no qualms against him taking you out for the afternoon. You chuckled as you prepared to go out with him.

A boxing match.

You are reminded of the one Anthony brought you to. The thrilling fight you saw. Not exactly a place for a lady, but you were not about to argue.

"Is this alright?" Hardy asks you.

"Yes. I must confess I find it quite thrilling. Though mother may lose her mind if she finds out."

"As far as your mother knows, we are promanading through the park."

You chuckle as you take your seat next to him, keeping your arm hooked around his. You were looking forward to this.

"It is considered a gentleman's sport, but why remain proper when we can have a little fun?" Hardy grins.

You chuckle.

"Lord Hardy, I think I rather like the way you think."

"Thinking is a dangerous activity, but one I am quite happy to encourage. You must also call me Thomas. I insist."

You smile. "Very well, Thomas."

The Bridgerton brothers enter the arena hall. You spot them immediately. They enter in reverse order. Colin, Benedict, Anthony. Each with a top hat upon their heads.

They don't seem to notice you. You're sat quite far up. Your eyes follow Benedict for a moment. He looks well.

Distance seems to have come between you recently. You've seen him a lot less, and he always seems rather busy.

With the end of the season around the corner, you don't expect you'll be seeing much of him at all. Violet had mentioned Aubrey Hall, their family estate. She had said you were welcome to visit them up there.

You hadn't decided if you wanted to go. Perhaps not. Not if Thomas was going to have all your attentions.

Who knows, maybe you'll be a married woman next time you saw them.

"Ladies and gentlemen, take your seats. The match is about to begin!"

Thomas smiles at you as you smile back.

The fight starts. You and Thomas cheer along with the crowd as you watch bother fighters. Will the man you want to win. Thomas had placed a bet on him. You had told him that you had seen Will fight before.

Will gets a hit in and you cheer.

Thomas chuckles.

Across the ring, Benedict has spotted you. He sees you sitting there with that man on your arm. He turns his eyes quickly back to the fight.

Why should he care that you're here?

Why should he care who you came with?

You cheer again as Will gets another hit in. And another. And another.

But then it switches up.

The Beast hits back. Again and again and again.

You find yourself standing from your seat. Thomas doing the same beside you. You call for Will to hit him back.

He falls to the floor.

The bell rings.

You cling to Thomas's arm as you watch half the room explode into cheer. You watch Mondrich lay there. It was like he chose to stop fighting. You wondered why.

"Come on, get up!"

He did not. He just accepted defeat.

After the fight, you took Hardy's arm, and he guided you down to the entrance. When you reached the doors, you bumped into the Bridgerton brothers, well, two of them. It was Colin who saw you first and spoke your name with a smile.

Benedict turned to look at you. Colin tipped his hat to your companion. "Lord Hardy."

"Mr. Bridgerton." Thomas nodded back.

"Lord Hardy," Benedict greeted, though he seemed less enthusiastic about it. He then turned to you.

"Shame about Mondrich," you say.

"Yes, quite. Unexpected." Colin comments.

"Is he alright, do you know?" You ask.

"I believe so."

"Shall we go?" Thomas asks you. You look at him and nod. You bid farewell to the brothers and walk away with Hardy.

Benedict follows you with his eyes.

Colin nudges his brother, and Benedict turns his eyes away. He gives Colin a smile and walks on.

♡♡♡

"I am confident I could last a few rounds in a boxing ring."

Daphne had invited you to the Bridgerton house where her family was gathering. Her sister Francesca had returned from Bath, and they were all getting together. The duchess extended the invitation to you, which was nice.

You hadn't seen much of them the last couple of weeks. You accepted.

You chuckled at Anthont words about boxing. He seemed fit enough but did not quite strike you as a boxer. You supposed it was because you can only see him as the Viscount.

"Well, that is certainly a match I would like to see." Benedict responds.

He had been rather quiet with you since you arrived at the house.

You look up and see Daphne and Simon jad arrived. You smile at them both and get up to greet Daphne. She takes your hand with a smile.

"It's good to see you," you say.

"Yes. We haven't had the chance to talk much," she replies.

Francesca then comes over to greet Daphne and her husband. Then Hyacinth, too. You chuckle at the excitement in the room.

Hyacinth steals Simon away for a bit.

"Show me what you have been learning, sister." Daphne requests, wanting Fran to play the piano for her. You join the two ladies at the piano.

Eloise is eating chocolate alone on the sofa. Well, she's alone until Benedict sits down with her.

"I do not share food." Eloise scolds him.

"You are not to do what you did the other morning ever again," he scolds her back. "Do you understand, Eloise?" He asks her.

"You mean visiting my new acquaintance?" She grins.

"She is not your acquaintance."

"I was wrong about her. She is wonderful. You have nothing to worry about."

"I was worried about anything."

"Not worried about what?" Anthony asked, coming over and sitting on Eloise's otherwise. He held his hand to Eloise. She stared at it and then gave him a chocolate.

"Uh, I... I have a friendship with Genevieve Delacroix," Benedict confesses. "The... modiste."

Anthony stares at his brother.

Silence hangs over Eloise's head.

Then Anthony answers. "Good for you, brother. You deserve contentment. We all do."

Benedict and Eloise both look at Anthony with surprise and confusion.

"If the lady contributes to that, then I'm happy for you." Anthony leaves.

"Whatever is in those candies?" Benedict asks. He takes one for himself and stands to join the rest of the family.

"Your pianoforte is quite impressive," Daphne comments. Francesca smiles at her. You agree with Daphne.

"Join me, brother," Fran requests, looking at her third eldest brother.

"Yes, Colin, why not a song?" Violet smiles.

"If I must," he agrees, coming to the piano.

Francesca plays the piano as Colin sings. It's an upbeat song. Gregory and Hyacinth spin and dance while Anthony claps. You laugh softly as you watch.

The song comes to an end, and you applaud Colin for his wonderful singing.

Hyacinth returns to the duke's side to question him about his horses. Violet scolds her lightly, but Simon answers all her questions.

You smile at the sight.

Benedict is slouching in a chair nearby, and you go over to him.

"Hello."

He looks up. "Hello."

You look at him sheepishly for a moment before speaking again. "Are you well?"

"Quite well."

You sigh softly as you look down at your hands. "I've missed you."

Benedict looks at you with gentle surprise. "You have?"

You nod. "Mmhm."

He sits up a little straighter. "You appear to have been busy." He comments.

"Yes." You know to who he refers to.

"Does he make you happy?" He asks.

You nod.

Benedict lets that sit for a fresh short seconds and then inhales softly as he reaches over and settles a hand over yours. "Then I am pleased for you."

You smile at him.

"Thank you."

He removes his hand and sits back in his chair again. You at least feel like some of the air between you has cleared. Yet, he still seems a little guarded.

You say no more and enjoy the rest of the afternoon.

♡♡♡

@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333

@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173

@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner

@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd

@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle

@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15

@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis

@biancamde - @ifgslsofbsodbf - @kniselle - @berarenado - @grassclippers - @bwormie - @avengersgirllorianna

[ineffable-suffering]

The Jane Austen Ball and why it was never about Nina and Maggie

Otherwise known as (*takes a deep breath*): A completely inflated close-up look at various dialogues and events of Season 2 that prove that the Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Meeting Cotillion Ball was supposed to be Aziraphale's confession to Crowley

Look, the point's been made before but that's never kept me from making it myself again, still. In fact, even I made it before, at the end of one of my other metas. But I feel like it's absolutely worthy enough to get its own soppy, way-too-long post. And I do love it so very much to write ridiculously long essays on something that could easily be condensed into a short paragraph.

So, here we go! Snuggle up, get cozy, settle in and, most importantly:

(Word count: 3.177 | Reading time: ~13 minutes)

As I already said above, I laid out a similar case in my meta about why Aziraphale is somewhat of an unreliable narrator. I'll try and recycle it here briefly, so I can further make my point.

When Aziraphale arrives back in London from his Edinburgh journey, he seems oddly happy and giddy for the fact that he just had a rather odd and threatening encounter with Shax. I explain in my other meta that this is because he just spent the last hours of his drive reminiscing on the thrilling and romantic magic show adventure of 1941 and also the fact that he just found out that Crowley has been replaced by Shax and no longer works for Hell.

Ergo: We have a hopelessly lovesick Principality at our hands, who's practically swooning over his serpent who saved him, his books and his magic show all those years ago.

Ergo:

✨This✨

Realistically, Aziraphale should probably be a tad worried about the eery encounter with Shax, in which she definitely had the upper hand on him. But well, if you spend many-a hours driving across the serene countryside (Edinburgh is about an 8-hour drive from London), pondering on one of the craziest, sticky-sweet romantic adventures of your not-life life, well ... things tend to turn a little rosy around the edges. Head in the clouds and all that. Light shades of grey!

Alright, onwards: Once the angel, filled to the very brim with fond memories and butterflies, gets out of the Bentley, he's kindly met with a face full of verdant plants and a very in-character-grumpy Crowley.

Fhwack! Way to burst the rosy bubble.

Seriously, the absolute lightning speed with which Crowley storms out to vacate the bookshop the very second Aziraphale arrives makes me giggle every time.

Let's make a first small (who am I kidding) diversion into analysing the following conversation in unnecessary detail ...

... simply because I enjoy quoting dialogue as an accurate reference in my metas. I'll also highlight certain passages I want to comment on in individual colours so I can back up my thoughts with them below. Alright, their little chinwag goes as follows:

Crowley: "They you are! I was worried something might have happened to you." Aziraphale: "No, nothing happened to me. Very uneventful journey indeed. No strange things at all." Crowley: "Good. That's what we wanna hear." Aziraphale: "Um .. everything okay with- ah.." *nods to the bookshop* Crowley: "Oh, yeah, fine. He's singing to himself. I think he must have been asleep. I heard snoring coming from his bedroom–" Crowley, to the Bentley: "Did you miss me? I bet you did." Aziraphale: "... I'm sure it did." Crowley: "So, any more clues from the mystery of the missing archangel?" Aziraphale: "Not exactly. Or, if there are, I haven't yet cracked the case. But I'm certainly hot on the trail of something." Crowley: "I'm sure you are. Oh, by the way, the whole sudden rain and awning thing was a complete washout." Aziraphale: "Sorry?" Crowley: "You know, project making Nina fall in love with Maggie. I failed, it's your go." Aziraphale: "I see. Well then, Whickber Street Traders and Shopkeeper's Association Monthly Meeting, here we come!" Crowley: "You're really hosting the meeting?" Aziraphale: "Absolutely! And I can guarantee you, it will be a night to remember."

At first glance, this has little to do with the plot of this meta but actually, it folds into my point very nicely! However, it's not time for that yet, so we'll just state the facts as they are for now and then bring them back 'round later when we need them. That being said: For the love of Someone, will these two ever manage to simply tell each other the truth of what happened instead of thinking they can protect each other by lying about it all the time? Hrmpf. As a big fan of open communication myself, I'm close to developing a stomach ulcer with the amount of false truths being spewed here. (Then again – and yes, that is another, way larger meta I'm currently cooking up – it plays so very perfectly into the whole Jane-Austen-Pride-and-Prejudice tragic miscommunication theme that this entire Season has, so I understand the point of it.)

Very uneventful journey indeed, Aziraphale, except for the fact that you were ambushed by a demon who told you she was Crowley's successor, knows about the rumors of the two of you being an item as well as what went down in 1941 (that almost had both of you exposed) and also seems to have figured out where you and your demon boyfriend are hiding Gabriel, all in the span of about a minute. No strange things at all, nooo!

And Crowley's "Oh yeah, fine" is a total lie too. Again, we see him make an absolute run for it before Aziraphale can even enter the bookshop. After all, he just once again witnessed Jim have a Gabriel-flashback, speaking of the Second Coming, while Crowley was alone with him. As fumingly angry he is with the amnesiac archangel – he's also absolutely terrified of what might happen (to him and Aziraphale) should Jim regain his memories. So, no wonder he's quick to vacate the premises after witnessing Jim's rather eery memory flashback (and was, just like Aziraphale, threatened by Shax mere moments later, lol).

But no, nothing out of the ordinary happened to either of them. Tip-top. Absolutely tickety-fucking-boo.

Alright, let's get back on track with the actual topic of this meta. Certainly hot on the trail of something, hm? At first glance, it might seem like Aziraphale is talking about the fact that Gabriel was in company of someone whenever he went to the Resurrectionist Pub. (The clue!) However, I don't actually think he is talking about that. Why? Because, and this slipped my mind too at first, he never actually follows any of this information up, does he? Yes, sure, he went to Edinburgh, found the capital-c Clue and then returned to London. But what does he do with it? Nothing. He doesn't keep investigating this hot trail because that's not the important thing he realized during his journey. No, the more important clue Aziraphale found during his trip, is that Crowley no longer works for Hell and that he is also very much irrevocably in love with him and must confess this at the earliest given chance. (The latter part isn't necessarily a new discovery for Aziraphale, but it surely is fuelled by the fact that he just realized Crowley's out of a Hellish job and simply hasn't told him yet.)

This exchange just the perfect indicator for the fact that Aziraphale, at no point during his drive back, was thinking about the Maggie and Nina mission. He has no idea what Crowley is talking about once he mentions it and seems surprised, even, that he would. Even though they just talked about it on the phone when Aziraphale was still at the graveyard. Which is another important piece of evidence because it means that the last status update Aziraphale got of Mission Lovebirds, was that Crowley had sensed an opportunity to make them fall in love – and had then hung up on him. Why is this important? Because it means that until that very point of their conversation, Aziraphale did not know that Crowley's attempt had failed! There would have been just as much of a chance of Crowley's weather miracle actually working out and Maggie and Nina already having skipped into the sunset happily ever after.

So, riddle me this:

Why would Aziraphale spend the entire ride back from Edinburgh plotting "a night to remember" (because clearly, he already had the entire Ball planned out down to a T in his head since he goes into action right away after arriving) if he didn't even know yet that Crowley's attempt had failed?

To be very clear here: We're not talking about Aziraphale driving on the M1 to London, having a silly little idea for putting on some good music, miracle-ing Nina and Maggie to dance to it and watch them confess their love–

No.

He planned an entire actual Cotillion Ball with very particular location design that involves re-arranging the entire bookshop, specifically designed individual outfits for (almost) every single attendee, topped off with a live band, hors-d'œuvre, drinks and an actual choreographed group dance.

During one car ride.

Where's the party planner Aziraphale AU? I'm waiting!

Now, sure, we know that it's still quite important for Aziraphale to convince Heaven of the faux-reason they gave for their accidental ✨25-Lazarii miracle✨. But if we're all honest, this all seems to be a tad much just to make two random humans fall in love, even for that.

Glittery ball gowns and suits? Red and gold wall curtains? A modified language filter? Bloody vol-au-vents?

Talk about over the top ...

Once we start S2E5, Crowley is still surprised at the mere fact that Aziraphale is actually planning to organize the Monthly Meeting – and he doesn't even know yet that it's gonna be the most extravagant ball-boogaloo that the Whickber Street Community has ever seen! Aziraphale wanting to organize the meeting alone, is enough to render Crowley incredulous, because Aziraphale never mingles with the other shopkeepers. He usually actively avoids them and any sort of social encounters as much as he can because he doesn't care about the bloody Christmas lights, alright?

These things seem mundane and uninteresting to him, obviously, since all he really cares about is hoarding his book collection in peace like the little hedonist he is and drawing as little attention as possible to his none-business business.

Oh, right, speaking of books:

Let's take another unnecessarily detailed look at the whole Whickber Street invitation scene:

Aziraphale realizes very quickly that he's not the only one who's quite unenthusiastic about the blessed Chritsmas lights. And despite his very persuasive methods of temptation ...

... he has to take some more drastic measurements. And those are?

That's right: Giving away his books.

I'll repeat it again, slowly: Aziraphale is willingly (!) giving away or lending his books to pretty much complete strangers to, allegedly, make two other humans strangers fall in love.

Seriously, who is that angel and what has he done with our prim, fussy, hedonistic Aziraphale that protects his books with the vice grip of an eagle carrying his precious prey?

Believe in the importance of Mission Lovebirds as much as you will, but we're talking about Mr. A.Z. Fell here who, over the past millennia, has pretty much spent every day actively working out methods to stop people from purchasing as much as a single paperback from his holy shelves.

And yet: the 1965 September Dr. Who Annual? Given away. The first edition of Expert at the Card Table that was S. W. Erdnase's personal copy? Lent away to grubby human hands to fondle around with.

Let's do another coloured dialogue diversion (don't worry, it's not as extensive as the last one):

Crowley: "You just did what I think you did?" Aziraphale: "I'm not prepared to talk about it." Crowley: "You gave away a book." Aziraphale: "I had to! Maggie and Nina are depending on me. They just don't know it yet."

Crowley backs up my point: This is a huge deal. Aziraphale does not sell his books – let alone give them away for free. We're all shocked! Flabbergasted!

And the explanation Crowley and us get just ... doesn't satisfy. Something and someone sure is depending on this Ball and doesn't know it yet. But it's most definitely not Maggie and Nina, folks.

You know for whom Aziraphale would give away his books in the blink of an eye, though?

Mhm, that's right.

This pretty old serpent.

I want to take a minute to show you the reaction again that Aziraphale has upon entering the very same magic shop him and Crowley went to in 1941 to acquire the Bullet Catch:

You ... you need a minute there, angel? You're sure looking a little ... affected.

And I mean, well, no wonder. He reminisced about that very memory four hours last night. To him, this shop is where the most turbulent, ecstatic, adrenaline-fuelled and romantic night of his life began. And it shows.

I've made my point in my other meta series about how Aziraphale is an incredibly nostalgic character. He romanticizes so many things in his memories – especially the parts that feature Crowley. So, it doesn't surprise me in the slightest that he's once again willing to loosen the tight grip he has on his book collection to get the successor of Will Goldstone's Magic Shop, the shop that started it all for him, to come to his fancy Ball.

As we watch Aziraphale and his little lap dog demon pat around Soho, I'd like to take another second to point out that he goes to seven or more establishments before he even invites Nina.

... and he only does so because she starts talking to them on the street. Almost like he'd forgotten about it. Why not ask her at the very beginning? To establish whether or not he'd have to book-blackmail her too?

"Perfectly ordinary invitation with no hidden agenda of any kind", except that he's using you and Maggie as a pretence to resolve his own clusterfuck of a relationship-miscommunication Jane-Austen-style so that he can then hopefully confess his undying love to his demon not-boyfriend boyfriend.

Marvellous!

You'll forgive me another short diversion but my God, the whole exchange at the Marguerite's restaurant with Crowley literally cat-call-whistling Aziraphale over to him (and Aziraphale checking if he meant someone else first, I–)? I am weak. So, so weak and

However, this is also when we get a snippet of Crowley finally revealing the truth in place of his "Oh, he's fine"-lie earlier and telling Aziraphale that he's actually pretty scared Jim might turn back into Gabriel and smite him altogether. And Aziraphale's response is, in a cosmic sense, (remember the pink paragraph now) so hilarious:

"Have you thought of just talking to him?"

Yeah, have you? Have any of the two of you? Just thought about talking? To each other? About anything?

'pparently not. But hey, it's all good because remember what the ultimate remedy for star-crossed lovers simply misunderstanding each other is?

Bish, bash, bosh, problem solved!

Back at the ballroom bookshop, Aziraphale sends Crowley to invite Maggie in order to, in my opinion, not spoil the Ball-y surprise for him. (Inviting Maggie only now?! Wouldn't she be one of the only two guests who really should attend? Why the short notice? If she's really that important for the Ball you're planning, hm?)

On top of this, we see Nina almost not attending the Ball meeting after her partner broke up with her and Crowley being the one who coincidentally runs into her and ushers her into the bookshop before Shax and her "legion" of demons start creeping up on them. Again, if this hadn't happened by pure coincidence, Nina would have left to go home and this whole Ball would have taken place without her, rendering the apparent sole purpose of making her fall in love with Maggie useless.

Why doesn't Aziraphale care more for both of them to attend and be there? Why is he instead busy fussing over everything looking perfect and wonderful and doesn't even seem to notice that both Nina and Maggie are really late to the meeting?

Well. Well.

The answer's in the title, babes.

Alas, Crowley safely gets Maggie and Nina to join them, Mr. Brown is the only one who doesn't get a miracled outfit (fussy, petty angel, you just don't like him, do you?), Jimbriel stuns with glamour and flirt (and whatever sexually suggestive thing he does with his cheeks) and the Whickber Street Ball is a-go!

Sorry, I just had to chuck this in again because Crowley's face here absolutely kills me every time. He looks so confused, I am hollering.

And the heart eyes Aziraphale is making at Nina and Maggie now that they're actually here?

Oh, bless it, angel.

He's all like "Oh look, it's working! Jane was right! It's all going to be resolved, all the misunderstanding and quarrels! Crowley, where's Crowley–"

Ah yes, there he is.

Ladies and gentlemen, this is an angel who is not listening to a single word being said right now. No, in his head, Aziraphale is already down on one knee, pouring his heart out to Crowley after they just danced the night away.

Oh, yes, right. The dancing.

Parallel much?

But well, as marvellous and beautifully romantic as her stories tend to be, it turns out that Jane Austen isn't always right after all. Because before we know it, the perfect night shatters into many-a tiny pieces (literally).

And once again, fhwack:

... the rosy bubble bursts.

Let's take one more deep breath so I can make my final point:

In S2E2, Aziraphale explains to us very exactly what Jane's Balls (hrhr) used to be about: Solving miscommunication and confessing love to one another.

During his car journey back from Edinburgh, Aziraphale:

doesn't know Crowley's Mission Lovebirds had failed

remembers 1941 and just how badly he's in love with Crowley

and also realizes that they seem to have been wildly miscommunicating for quite some time now. (Crowley didn't even tell him he basically got let go!)

So, what does maddeningly strong love plus a want to resolve all the miscommunication equal? That's right: A night to remember! A Ball to change it all! A dance, a vol-au-vent, a confession. And, ideally, a happy ever after. Because:

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man angel in possession of a good fortune Jane Austen collection, must be in want of a wife demon husband.”

The Ball was never for Nina and Maggie. As a byproduct, maybe, yes. But the whole rest of the glimmer and glamour, the careful, romantic planning and set up of it all, the book-bating the other shopkeepers– that was for Crowley and Crowley only.

And oh, if only it were as easy as in the books.

*whispers* I'm sorry, I had to.

***

Your honour, the tinfoil-hat crackpot defence rests. Feel free to share thoughts (and prayers) if you want to!

Au revoir! 💗

[jellyclogs]

how op men react to you calling them darling prt.2

characters: Zoro, Sabo, Sanji, Marco, Buggy

y/n has she/her pronouns

Zoro:

“Excuse me?” Zoro laughed.

Your face was suddenly on fire. You hadn't meant to call him darling. You had meant to just ask, “Have you eaten.” you repeated. He looked way too much like the leading man in the romance novel you were reading. It wasn't your fault you called him darling it was the dam books.

“You're missing a part,” Zoro smirked, he was enjoying how flustered you were, it was pretty dang cute.

“Did you eat or not?” you huffed crossing your arms.

“Yeah I did,” he shot you a teasing look, “Darling.”

You thought your face was on fire before… well now it really had to be. You turned and rushed away from him. You might burst into flames from the intensity of your embarrassment. You were going to burn that novel.

“Something wrong darling?” he called after you in a laugh.

Sabo

“Hay Darling could you pass me those papers,” you called to the blond as he was passing your desk painting to a stack of paper across the room from you. You were so engrossed in your work that you hadn't even realized what you'd said.

Sabo froze, a smile coming to dance across his lips, “No problem sweetheart,” he said without skipping a beat. He grabbed the stack of paper before setting them on your desk.

You glanced up at him a puzzled look on your face, “Sweetheart?” you hummed, “What with the pet name Sabo?” you quirked a brow

Sabo’s smile grew, “You're the one who started it.” he wished he could snap a picture of the look you had on your face, it was priceless.

You tilted your head to the side. It took an almost embarrassingly long time for you to relize what you had said to him.  You bit your lip before smiling, “I guess your right darling. I did start this,” you purred.

Sabo's face flushed, “Don't use that voice on me, sweetheart,” he leaned down resting his hands on your desk, “and don't start a game you can't win.” his voice had dropped an octave, it was now low and sultry.

“I'm not sure what game you're referring to darling,” you leaned forward laying on the seductive tone even harder, “But if I did I'm sure I'd win.”

Sobo leaned even closer, his eyes were very intense, “Come on sweetheart, you know you'd lose.”

Before the game you two were playing cold get out of hand Kola stepped in. She slapped the back of both of your heads hissing, “Oh cut it out both of you.” she shook her head, a small smile on her lips.

Sanji:

You smiled to yourself as you baked. You were in the process of making marbled brownies. You made a dark chocolate batter followed by a pumpkin batter before swirling them together. You popped your creation into the oven before beginning to clean up your mess. It was currently 1:30 a.m., so you knew you had plenty of time to leave it spotless. Sanji would not wake up till 5 am

 You knew that using the kitchen without Sanji's approval could be a dangerous game but you just had to. You would ask Sanji to forgive you later. There was no way you could ask him to use the kitchen not when you were trying to surprise him. You were making him a birthday treat.

You spent the 40 minutes it took for the brownies to bake to clean the kitchen till the floor sparkled. You pulled the pan of brownies out of the oven, they were perfectly baked nice crunchy corners and an ooey gooey center. You were no professional but you could bake like one.

You set the brownies on the counter along with a box of expensive black tea you bought him from a few islands ago. You spent the next ten minutes debating whether or not you'd leave a note. Finally, you gave in to yourself and left a note.  “Happy birthday darling,” you wrote out in your nicest handwriting before singing it in the bottom right corner.

Glancing at the clock you read the time was 2:25 am. You skittered out of the kitchen and headed to bead. You sent a silent prayer to whatever god was listening Luffy wouldn't get hungry for a snack before Sanji woke up.

######

Sanji got out of bed at Five a.m. sharp. It may have been his birthday but he would not skip out on his job. He was the ship's cook and he'd be damned if he didn't cook them a proper breakfast. His birthday would be mad special when he saw the look of delight on Nami’s, Robins's, and (y/n)’s faces when they ate the breakfast he made.

He pulled on clean clothes before heading to the kitchen. He needed a cup of nice strong black tea to wake him up. He almost slipped into his normal routine till his eyes landed on a pan on the counter. He rushed over to it wondering which member of the crew had left him a dirty dish to deal with.

He stopped in front of the pan when he saw it was full, someone had made brownies he felt confused. He then noticed the box of tea next to it. The tea looked expensive. He picked it up and read over the container. He realized it was a tea that he'd put back after he realized he didn't have the budget for it a few islands ago. His eyes finally landed on the little slip of paper resting on the top of the brownies. 

“Happy Birthday Darling” he read glancing down to the signature. He felt his heart raced as he read (y/n)’s name. When had she had the time to make this? He looked around the kitchen trying to find evidence of her baking but it was spotless. 

He hugged the note to his chest, feeling tears in his eyes. He hadn't expected much for his birthday. This was so much more than what he expected. He decided to not start his prep for breakfast yet. He brewed himself a cup of his new tea, cut himself a brownie, lit a cigarette, and sat down. He could take a bit of time to appreciate the gift.

######

You were pulled out of bed by Nami at  7 a.m. You were honestly in no mood to be awake, that was until you remembered that it was Sanji’s birthday. You got up stretching and yawning.

You and Nami walked to the kitchen together. You couldn't wait to see how Sanji had reacted to your little surprise. Before you entered the kitchen you whispered into Nami’s ear, “Don't forget to tell Sanji happy birthday.”

 She rolled her eyes at you… hard.

Then the two of you walked in. “Good morning Sanji.” You smiled at him.

Sanj slowly and deliberately walked across the kitchen to stand in front of you. He stared into your eyes for a long moment before hugging you. “Thank you, princess,” he whispered kissing your forehead and walking away, A trickle of blood running from his nose.

Marco:

You were sick, you had a fever, your nose was running and you had the chills. You stumbled from the room you shared with Marco to the infirmary. You knew he had to be there since he wasn't in the room with you. You always got needy when you were sick.

You made it there to see Marco working on paperwork. He was slumped over at his desk working like there was no tomorrow. You knew his work was important but at the moment you couldn't care less about it. You just wanted your lover to come cuddle with you and make you feel a little better.

“Darling,” you whimpered as you made it to his desk, “Will you come cuddle with me?” you sounded absolutely pathetic. If your voice alone had not convinced him to come to bed with you then the way you looked forced his hand. You had a pout on your face the comforter of your shared bed wrapped around you. 

Marco looked up from the paperwork he was working on, “You really shouldn't be out of bed.” he said a smile on his lips as he shook his head.

“I don't wanna be alone. Darling, please come to bed with me.” The pout on your face mixed with the flush of fever made you look more than cute.

Marco laughed, you only ever called him darling when you wanted him to do something for you. He wanted to pretend like it wasn’t an effective strategy but couldn't. Whenever you called him darling he was putty in your hands, “OK my little bird I'll come back to bed with you.” he sighed.

Your pout turned into a smile as you heard his words, “Thank you.” Even with your slightly scratchy voice, Marco found your voice soothing.

Marco stood up from his desk and walked over to you. He easily swept you off of your feet, carrying you bridal style, “Let's get you back to bed before you share this cold with someone.” he had no worries about getting sick himself, ever since he ate the phoenix phoenix fruit he was immune to most colds and illnesses.

“If you leave me there I'm gonna follow you.” You leaned into his chest closing your eyes already feeling sleepy.

Marco just shook his head. He knew for a fact you weren't joking. He sighed, for the sake of the crew he’d better stay with you. He tried to be upset about having to stay in bed with you but he couldn't manage it.

Buggy

You laid in bed next to Buggy. Your lover had his back to you as he slept You had had a nightmare and couldn't get yourself to fall asleep. You didn't want to wake him up, but you really wanted him to hold you. You didn't need to talk about the nightmare you just needed to be in his arms. You hesitantly reached a handout and shook his shoulder, “Please wake up darling.” you whispered.

Buggy was usually a heavy sleeper but the fear in your voice made him instantly roll over. With sleep still fogging his senses he asked, “What’s the matter, honey?” he looked at you with tired but concerned eyes.

“I'm sorry to wake you but would you please just hold me?” you asked in a soft and apologetic voice.

Buggy studied your face for a long moment before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you to his chest. It didn't take a genius to tell you were upset. The look you had on your face was heartbreaking, “Don't be,” he mumbled, “Do you want to tell me what's wrong now or in the morning.” his voice sounded grumpy but you could tell he truly did want to make you feel better.

“In the morning darling,” you close your eyes already feeling like you could sleep again, “please just go back to sleep.” You kissed his cheek.

He grunted in response holding you tighter. He would sleep now, but in the morning he'd find out what had upset you. You were his flashy little partner and he would not neglect you. It did not take him long to fall back to sleep.

The sound of his heart and the feeling of his chest rising and falling quickly calmed you down. You found it much easier to sleep. You found yourself falling back to sleep rather quickly.

[misscinnamonroll16]

Brozone headcanons

Clay and Floyd are the stunt men now that they're adults. Clay's always been a little bit of a daredevil, Floyd already died once, why not live a little.

Clay is nocturnal, like the rest of the Putt-putt trolls. His bros throw his sleep schedule off so when they're hanging out, it's not unusual for Clay to just be passed out somewhere or on someone. If they can, they get Clay to bed so he can properly sleep. If not, everyone's volume goes low.

Both Floyd and John Dory took bartending classes. And by took I mean, Floyd just so happened to be sleeping with a bartender who taught him some things. When making drinks, John's proper about it, Floyd is kind of messy. Floyd's over pouring and spilling.

Clay's handwriting is like a nice print. It's easy to read and looks good on paper.

John Dory is good at photography. He mostly uses this skill for taking nature shots but he's gotten good at candid shots of his brothers. He doesn't let them know about these pics bc they don't look the most photogenic but they look like themselves and that's what John loves to see.

JD has dimples

John Dory almost always has at least one weapon on him.

The brothers think JD has a death wish bc he's constantly going after animals that could literally kill him. "John! Don't touch that, it'll tear you to pieces!" "Psh, whatever. If we weren't supposed to pet it then why does look so fluffy?"

Floyd doesn't go into detail about his past. He'll tell snippets here and there but avoid questions. For one, because he's a bit embarrassed about it. He did a lot of things he isn't proud of, drugs, sleeping around, and drinking. For two, he knows that his older brothers still see him WAY younger than he actually is (like how they still see Branch as a baby) and it would just shatter that mentality. And he doesn't want to do that. For three, it's WAY more fun for him if they don't know and have to keep guessing. Floyd has heard them trying to figure out what he spent the last twenty years doing and starts fucking with them.

John Dory definitely has pictures from even when he was a baby and such. Even ones with their parents but he tries to keep those ones tucked away. Branch is going through them when he finds a picture that has been folded in one of the sleeves of the photo album. It's a picture of John and Bruce and their parents. JD quickly snatches the photo and shoves it his vest. Those people looked like strangers to Branch, that picture probably being the first time he's seen them

The brothers know they didn't have a good childhood but John did his best, despite being pretty much a child himself.

John Dory man spreads no matter who he is sitting next or if he's just sitting in a chair.

John Dory wears the one glove to hide an incredibly deep scar. He got into some trouble with some bounty hunters and needless to say, they drove a knife through his hand. He doesn't want his lil bros to know or worry about it so he hides it.

All the boys (like most trolls) are fuzzy. JD and Bruce have the most prominent facial hair and chest hair. They all have leg hair, arm hair, under arm hair, and a happy trail.

Clay and John have the Blond™️ gene (that's how I'm referring to it) where their hair goes through changes. That's why their hair is so much different from when they were kids. In the summer while spending a bunch of time outside, JD and Clay's hair gets lighter, Clay being a light yellow and John being a soft teal. The others convinced them to do one of those 'take a picture every day for a year' things and make it into a flip book to show how their hair changes color.

The boys really wanted a sister. John jokes that they kind of got one with Floyd

Floyd and John Dory are good gardeners. JD briefly grew his own food and Floyd just has a natural green thumb (not that John doesn't)

Floyd gets random nosebleeds

[dduane]

Re: Magic systems

kosmonaunt asked:

I have the weird hyper-fixation of wanting to know all their is about The Speech and just how everything works!! I love learning about how power systems work, and it helps since I’m trying to develop my own. I’m always stuck on soft or hard magic systems. Since I don’t know all there is to really know about my system. Do you have tips on crafting magic systems? How do you feel about someone being inspired by pieces of your system?

Inspiration is fine! What you want to make sure you do with whatever inspires you, though, is to work hard to make your own take on it different from or better than what you borrowed. Around here we refer to this as "the magpie principle:" if you're going to pick up and play with/make off with a bright and shiny idea, you need to be working to produce something even brighter and shinier as your part of the "exchange". Whether or not you succeed at this (or can succeed), either sometimes or never at all, isn't the point. The point is to always be trying.

As regards building magic systems: there were three different ones in the foreground or background of my first novel alone—all of them with features that at this end of time I can recognize as being inspired by elements of magic systems in other writers' work. But by the time I'd more fully developed them, each had become something unique. The system I'm probably better known for—the system based on the wizardly Speech and its use—sprang more or less automatically from the increasingly complex answers to the question, "What if there was a manual that could tell you the truth about/the secrets of what makes the world go?". (Because once you answer one question, another pops up. "Where did that manual come from? What're you supposed to do with it? What's wizardry for?" Etc., etc.) I've spent the last few decades, on and off, answering that question in ways that (intentionally) mirror the main characters' exploration of the art of wizardry, and what it means to engage in the business of errantry in a world that mostly thinks wizards are a fairy tale.

Before getting into describing my own approach to building a system, I needed to take a little time to look around and make sure I knew what you meant when you mentioned hard and soft magic. My best guess is that you're referring to what a lot of people are calling "Sanderson's Three Laws of Magic" (fairly enough, as Brandon calls them that himself). I had a look, and have come to the conclusion that they're more general guidelines than laws... as in each of his three essays on the subject, Brandon no sooner names his basic laws/principles than he starts punching holes through them to make room for systems that don't follow them rigidly. (And frankly I find this kind of endearing.)

With his first one, in particular, I have no quarrel at all: the concept that in one kind of magic, which for his purposes he defines as the "hard" kind, rules are extremely important. (Which is why I'm kind of horrified that he apparently got dogpiled about this take on a Worldcon panel, because to me it seems so intuitive. Some of the best fantasy storytellers I know, like this one, would agree with him.) Then later he gets on to the equally valid ideas that limitations on magic are really important, and that culturally interconnecting multiple systems is useful; and here too we're in agreement. This is reassuring to me, considering that I built my first four systems—all of which feature approaches resting on similar concepts—while Sanderson was between four and six years old. :)

People using Sanderson's Laws will look at the three systems in the Middle Kingdoms books and classify them as varying sorts of relatively hard magic, with their power rooted in two or maybe three different sources. (The blue Fire is a gift of the Divine, nearly lost since ancient times and much damaged, but now slowly being recovered: sorcery is a language-based art in which no one's terribly sure where its power comes from: and the so-called "royal magics" probably started out as a blood sorcery that over centuries was shifted toward very specific uses by the power of the demigod-descendants who employed it.)

The Young Wizards novels, though, feature an extremely hard magic deeply rooted in science and (more or less under the hood) very, very rules-intensive... while its power relies on correct use of the language used to create the Universe, and the active cooperation of the Powers still busy about that work. And this is the reason why, though people are going to naturally be curious about the Speech itself, no one's going to hear very much from me about its actual words.

This is because the Speech is canonically described as so powerful that its use is something you can feel in your body and mind (and theoretically your spirit): bone-shaking, life-changing, unmistakable. And there's no way that made-up words on the page can realistically be expected to evoke physical sensations like that in the reader... or like the sense of the universe going silent around you, leaning in to listen, as you speak your spell. The careful writer knows that it's unwise to attempt to produce responses in the reader that, when they fail, will only emphasize how that thing is not happening, and stands a good chance of shattering the illusion one’s trying to weave.

So a Speech-word gets dropped here and a phrase there, but no one's ever going to get enough of it out of me to try to build a spell. Readers are better at doing that work for themselves in their own heads, out of hints and whispers. Over ten books and their interstitial material, there are plenty of those scattered through the text: not to mention the most basic principles of wizardry, which are laid out before the end of the first chapter of the first book in the series. So I'll leave you to get on with deducing what you can from canon.

Meanwhile, if I was about to build a new system, I'd look at my main characters—in the setting of their home cultures—and ask myself for answers to these questions:

What do they want more than anything?

Why can't they have it?

What kind of power will help them get it?

When they do eventually get within reach of the power / the desired thing... what will its achievement cost them?

And will they pay the price?

...Because the payment of such prices is where you find out what your heroes are worth. (Or aren't.) The above arc succinctly describes, in broad strokes, both The Door into Fire and So You Want To Be A Wizard, and a good number of the books that follow them. (Because why abandon what works, or try to fix what's not broken?) :)

With answers to the questions above you can start feeling your way toward what you need—always looking closely at the cultures your characters spring from, and how those cultures will shape their response to the magic they seek. (Or that finds them.) Maybe it's no surprise that the preferred arc structure of a writer who was a psychiatric nurse will be deeply involved with questions of motivation: because motivation is at the heart of almost all human behavior. Find the motivation and you find the character's heart—and, often enough, what kind of magic they need to make their desire and intention overflow into triumph.

...There are quite a few "How to design your magic system" pages out there. You might glance at these to see if there's anything useful in them for you:

How To Build An Amazing Magic System For Your Fantasy Novel

How To Create A Magic System In Six Simple Steps

Building Your Magic System: A Full Recipe

How To Create A Rational Magic System

However, my favorite is the "So You Want To Write A Functional Magic System" page at TV Tropes, which is nicely arranged yet also completely nonprescriptive—a pick-'n'-mix jar of prompts, things other writers have done that've worked, and generally useful ideas. (And try not to vanish too far down the many interconnected rabbitholes...) :)

Now get out there, build the world, and make the magic(s).

[soupandsorcery]

"Astarion and I had a conversation about you once," Ciro says, seemingly apropos of nothing. They're stoking the fire higher in the hearth to ward away the chill in the air. Astarion is in the bath, which he'd promptly claimed for the next 'hour--no, two. Actually, just come check that I haven't drowned if you don't see me before bed'. Gale is sitting on the bed, making a face at the way it squeaks, even though the three of them have stayed in much worse places than this.

"Do I want to know?" Gale asks, and Ciro can feel him watching them. They've grown to learn the differences between the way Gale and Astarion look at them, though they both manage to convey their own hungry sort of awe with just their eyes.

Ciro smiles and feeds another small, neatly split log into the fireplace. "It wasn't bad. It was complimentary even. For Astarion."

"Oh, I'm sure that was interesting. Tell me."

The bed squeaks, and Ciro turns to see Gale lounging. He's shucked off his outer robe, and is just in a tunic and pants. For a man who looks so good in finery, Ciro thinks they might like him best when he's dressed down and comfortable. He looks more approachable then. More touchable.

"It was a little while after he bit me for the first time," Ciro explains. "And he was saying that after tasting me, he was wondering what the rest of our group might taste like. I think he compared you to a fine, well aged brandy."

Gale's eyebrows lift and something sparks in his eyes. It's curiosity, the same light he gets when he's about to spend the next few hours buried in books, chasing down some obscure spell or reference.

"Really?" he asks. "That is high praise from Astarion."

"I told you." Ciro smiles and comes to join him on the bed. It's going to be a tight fit for the three of them, but when the inn keeper offered them two rooms to divide up, they'd quickly declined. "I agreed that you'd probably taste very good."

Gale's cheeks go pink, and Ciro laughs softly. For a man who can weave erotic magic like no one they've ever met before, sometimes the simplest things make him blush. And maybe that makes sense. Maybe Gale has spent so much time with the grand and the ethereal that the small and mundane still manage to catch him off guard.

It bodes well for Ciro then, small and mundane as they are.

"What is it like?" Gale asks, sitting up on his elbows. "When he bites you?"

"It hurts," Ciro answers truthfully. "But that part is over quick. Then it just feels sort of...warm. Woozy. But Astarion always makes it a seduction. You know how he is." Gale nods. "He's good at distracting me from the pain of it and making it into something more tender."

Gale's eyes are very warm now, lit by the firelight and the heat of his curiosity and desire. "What does he do?" he murmurs. "Paint me a picture."

"That's not my thing." Of the three of them, Ciro is the worst with words, but they try anyway. "He kisses the spot where he bites me, and his hands wander. I don't really think about the pain when he's stroking me...you know."

Now their cheeks are on fire, a splash of red across their pink skin. Gale is still gazing at them intently, like he's expecting more, and Ciro feels the heat from the fire and the thump thump thump of their heart.

"Words are all well and good, Gale darling," a drawling voice interrupts them. "But they're no comparison to the richness of experience. Wouldn't you agree?"

Astarion emerges from the separate bathing area, draped in nothing but low slung pants. His pale skin glistens in the firelight, and his hair is damp and even curlier from the steam. He looks like a treat, but then, he always does.

He catches Ciro looking and smiles, small and tender, before winking at them.

"You ah-- You might have a point," Gale says, clearing his throat. "And I have been thinking about it."

"Really?" Astarion's eyebrows climb up his forehead. "I...didn't think you were interested."

"I wasn't. At first. Not that I'm opposed to you feeding yourself, of course, but Ciro had it well covered, and. Well, I'll admit I was being a bit of a baby about the pain aspect of it. But Ciro makes it sound very intriguing. And I've seen the way they look when you're finished with them."

"How I look? How do I look?" Ciro asks, glancing between the two of them.

"Soft, sleepy," Gale says at the same time Astarion purrs, "Ruined."

It's enough to make them blush darker, and then groan, falling face first into one of the pillows on the bed. "You're the worst," they mumble.

"Which of us are you talking to?" Astarion wants to know.

"Take your pick."

He chuckles, a low, rolling sound that does things to Ciro's body and their heart. It's not fair that he's so casually attractive. Or that Ciro is so easily flustered.

"Leave them alone," Gale says fondly.

"Alright, I'll turn my attention back to you then," Astarion replies. "Are you actually interested in seeing what it's like? I won't be offended if it's more of an...idle curiosity."

Gale is quiet for a moment, and Ciro can practically hear him thinking. "I suppose I should try it, shouldn't I? I can hardly be involved with a vampire without letting a little blood every now and then, right?"

"Well, you could. It's hardly a requirement. But I won't deny that I am still ravenously curious to find out what you taste like."

Ciro snorts into the pillow at the word choice and gets poked in the side for their trouble. Their men and their drama.

"We'll call it an experiment, shall we?" Gale declares. "I'll try it, and if I don't like it, no harm, no foul."

"No harm, no foul," Astarion agrees. "I should have done this better when it was my first time with Ciro. You won't be offended if I make this a little more romantic for our dear Gale, will you, pet?"

Ciro sits up and finds Astarion looking at them intently. It's an honest question, they realize, from the way Astarion looks at them and the little furrow of anxiety between his brows.

"I won't be offended," they promise him. "You've more than made up for it."

Astarion smiles, reaching for Ciro's hand to kiss the back of it before sweeping around the room. He grabs one of the chairs from the little side table and puts it near the fire, then stands in the center of their rented room with his hands on his hips. His eyes flick back to Ciro, and a smile plays around his lips.

"Could I trouble you to help me?" he asks. "Gale isn't as...familiar with pain as you are. It might help if he had a distraction." There's a mischievous glint to his eyes, and he picks up one of the pillows from the bed and lays it in front of the chair.

Ciro catches on to Astarion's meaning before Gale does, and they smile, sliding off the bed. They kiss Astarion's cheek, leaning into him for a moment. "I can be distracting," they murmur.

"You certainly can."

"I--oh," Gale says, finally catching on.

"Indeed. Come sit," Astarion drawls, gesturing to the chair.

Gale practically scrambles to obey, sitting down in the chair, legs spread. Ciro slides in gracefully, sinking down to their knees on the pillow. It's clear that Gale is nervous, from the way he's shifting and his eyes darting back and forth. Ciro can't pretend they didn't feel the same when they did this for the first time, but they've all come a long way since then.

"Breathe," they murmur to Gale. They slide their hands up his thighs, fingers massaging the muscles there. "We'll take care of you."

"Yes," Astarion agrees, moving in behind the chair. His long, elegant fingers slide over Gale's shoulders and down to his chest. "You are ours to look after."

"Alright." Gale takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, and his posture relaxes. He sits back in the chair and tips his head back to regard Astarion. "I'm ready."

"Hm, not yet, I think," Astarion murmurs. "Ciro?"

That's their cue. With an ease borne of practice, Ciro walks their fingers up Gale's thighs even more and starts unlacing his pants. Gale lifts his hips enough that Ciro can drag the garment down, freeing Gale's cock. He's already on his way to being hard, but it never does take much to get Gale going when the two of them are involved.

Ciro glances to Astarion, to make sure he's comfortable with this amount of sexual contact happening right in front of him. It comes and goes these days, and sometimes he wants to be involved, while sometimes he'd rather not be in the room at all. But now there's a honeyed warmth to his eyes, and a slow, pleased smile tucked into the corners of his mouth.

He catches Ciro looking and inclines his head a little, in answer to the silent question.

"Focus on me," Ciro murmurs to Gale, one hand wrapping around his cock to stroke it slowly.

Gale's eyes are riveted on Ciro as he sucks in a deep breath, hips already bucking minutely up into Ciro's touch. Ciro grazes his thumb over the head of Gale's cock, gathering the growing wetness from the tip to spread down as he keeps working him up.

Astarion keeps his hands on Gale too, fingers dipping under the open collar of his shirt, dancing over his collarbones.

"Ciro's beautiful on their knees, don't you think?" Astarion purrs into Gale's ear. It must have an effect because Gale's dick twitches in Ciro's hand. "So very eager and obedient. So ready to please you. To please us both."

There's so much promise in that tone of voice, and it catches Ciro up in it too, making them swallow hard.

"Perhaps we'll both indulge in how good you must taste tonight," Astarion says, and Ciro dips their head to lick a hot stripe up Gale's cock.

"Ah," Gale moans. His hands are wrapped around the arms of the chair, a white knuckled grip as Ciro and Astarion work him up between them.

"Yes, very good," Astarion continues, and Ciro doesn't know which one of them he's praising. They suppose it doesn't really matter.

They ease their mouth over the head of Gale's cock and then take him all the way down to the root. Not having a gag reflex has come in handy many a time with their lovers, especially Gale, who is surprisingly well endowed.

They hold it there for a moment, taking in the feeling of Gale in their mouth, the way the head of him hits the back of their throat, the way they can feel the tension climbing in his body.

Then they pull off, sucking in a gasp of air before going back to it.

Astarion just waits. Watches. Occasionally offers praise in his low, seduction edged voice. When Ciro glances up, they can tell that Astarion is thumbing Gale's nipple under his shirt, and that Gale is sprawled in the chair, almost boneless with pleasure.

"If you keep this up--" Gale chokes out. "I am not likely to--ah! I'm not likely to last."

"That is the goal," Astarion says. He sounds a bit breathless now, but is otherwise composed. Ciro knows that if they looked into his eyes there would be a million different emotions in them, but they focus on their task, sucking Gale down and swirling their tongue around the head of his cock.

He leaks a salty drip, which Ciro laps up eagerly, letting themself get lost in it. Gale's little moans of pleasure are almost musical, and Ciro knows from experience that he's beautiful when he falls apart.

He's close now, Ciro can taste it, and apparently Astarion can too because he chooses that moment to bite him. Ciro hears his voice, a low, "Breathe, love," and then Gale's gasping sharply.

Ciro looks up, but it's not pain on Gale's face. At least not entirely. He looks like he's in a harsh sort of ecstasy, sharp and brutal, but like he's enjoying every second of it. His body arches a bit, and Astarion keeps a hold of him, not letting him buck too hard.

He's learned, from his time feeding on Ciro, how to really refine this art. How to walk the line between pain and pleasure, and wait for the moment when the two can blend together beautifully.

Gale's there now, wrapped up in it, and Ciro has just enough time to pull back a bit before Gale comes undone, coming hard in their mouth.

Ciro works him through it, licking him clean before they pull off. Astarion pulls away a moment later, dragging his tongue over the small drips of blood that have spilled down Gale's neck. He presses a kiss, tender and soft, to Gale's neck, and then lets out a pleased sigh.

"Well?" Ciro asks, sitting back on their heels. "Was it everything you expected?"

Astarion smiles, and he almost looks drunk with it. "And more, darling. We were right, all that time ago. He's positively exquisite."

"I'm flattered," Gale says. "And spent."

"It's a very good look for you," Astarion tells him.

Between the three of them, they manage to bank the fire and move their way to bed in various states of undress. By an unspoken agreement, Gale gets the middle, and Astarion and Ciro curl up on either side of him. It is a tight fit, but Ciro has never complained about having to huddle close with these two.

It's several minutes later when Astarion speaks again. "Was that...was it alright?"

Gale chuckles and turns his head to kiss the tip of Astarion's nose. "'Alright' doesn't do it justice in the least. That was an experience. One I would be happy to repeat, if you're all willing."

"Count me in," Ciro murmurs sleepily.

"I suppose I could be convinced," Astarion replies, and he sounds very pleased behind the flippant words.

"Then it's settled."

Like so many things between the three of them, it comes down to a conversation and mutual agreement, and Ciro smiles, happy and eager to see where life leads them next.

[anonymouszephyrus]

Voltron Characters Headcanons, go!

FINALLY! I HAVE.. too many..

Let's start with the original Red & Blue duo:

KEITH (Aka. He isn't emo, just unique)

- Demisexual Homoromantic (Yes.) - He/Him Pronouns - Full Name Headcanon: Keith's full name is “Keith Akira Kogane” and other languages. However, I like to think that Keith's father (whom I've named: Hyeong-Min, Hyeon by itself means “Virtuous or Worthy” and Min means “Sharp-minded” which I think fits someone who is Keith's dad.) His surname in Japan is Kogane, yes. But in Korea, it would be Kim. As both Kim and Kogane mean “Gold” in Korean and Japanese. This does mean that Keith has a Korean name along with his usual one. I'm choosing to go along with the idea that when Hyeong-min's parents left Korea and moved to Texas, they gave him a Korean name but when Hyeong-min and Krolia had Keith, they chose to gave him multiple names depending where he was. TLDR; (Japanese - Akira Kogane; Korean - Ki-Joo or Ki-Joon Kim/Kogane; Common - Keith Akira Kogane.) - Absolute Literature nerd (He spent a shit long time in that cabin. There's no way Adam or Shiro hadn't found him before and given him books or something to occupy himself.) - I love having him as Japanese-Korean + Half-Galra but he was raised in Texas so he's forgotten a lot of his Korean since no one was there to continuously talk to him in the language like his dad did. Shiro talks Japanese with him so that one is still fine. Keith's been trying to relearn Korean but it's hard since he gets sad (and mad) when thinking about his dad. - He wears eyeliner. Shiro taught him to. - He wears too many rings. And whenever he has to wash his hands, he takes them off, and Lance practically faints every time Keith flexes his hands to ensure his rings are in place. - Despite being touch-repulsed, Keith is so fucking touch-starved it's unreal. - Keith only calls Shiro “Takashi” when he's mad or sad. No in-between. One time he did it was when he was younger, Shiro beat him in Mario Kart and he got so mad, he screamed: "I'm disowning myself from you, Takashi!" and Shiro almost cried. - Keith's Galra side only comes out when he's focused, mad, or extremely flustered about something. Lance teased him to no end one time and his skin started turning purple. - After Allura and Keith had their talk, Allura's been trying to make his little Galra situation better. If she sees him slowly turning purple and becoming anxious about it, she'll turn purple too for the remainder of his ordeal. (And then it becomes a “who wears purple the best”) - Keith loves music, he likes to play the keyboard or piano at times, only problem is that he's a bit tone-deaf (which is surprising considering he actually is pretty good at playing those instruments.) - He is lactose-intolerant, only that he doesn't give a shit and does continuously eat or drink dairy products, it doesn't make him sick though because of his Galra genes... but he does, quite literally, destroy the bathroom.

LANCE (Aka. Too many sad shit)

- Bisexual Disaster (with a hint of internalized homophobia) - He/Him Pronouns - Full Name Headcanon: His real name is Leandro Agustín Nuñez Carmen Esposita-McClain, shortened to Lance McClain. Just like @autisticlancemcclain's headcanon, I love it a lot. (Sorry for the ping, if it did) - All his siblings have acronym names along with their mother. Mervin, headcanon McClain papa's name, is the only one without one. - Lance has central heterochromia, meaning the inner ring of his eyes are brown whilst the rest is blue. Kinda like this:

(This is a picture I got off Google, please don't sue me. And yes, I know it's more orange than brown but I couldn't find a good enough reference to show you all, basically it's just like that except the middle is much darker) - He's constantly terrified he'll forget things from Earth. Like his sense of time, the way colors are, the way the light moves, the moon changing every night, everything. Not just because of you know, Voltron and stuff, but because he has memory issues too. - He accidentally forgot the name of his niece and nephew one time and panicked afterward as he scrambled to think of what they were. Now, he has little notes in his pocket that holds all his family members' names. - Lance is a prodigy at playing music, specifically guitars but he doesn't think he's good after the last time he played in a competition, he got absolutely destroyed and insulted by one of the other sour competitors that he never tried to play a guitar again because everytime he tries to, that memory keeps coming back and it's one of the many reasons he has such low self-esteem. - He thought he was sick the first time he had a crush on a guy from the first week of being in the Garrison (it was Keith) and rang up his mother only to be politely told that he wasn't sick. - Lance often tries to write little poems for Keith because he knows how much he likes literature only to throw it allow or out the airlock when he thinks it isn't good enough. It leads to the first poem Keith received from him being the most romantic and elegantly made poem he's ever read... (and he only got it because Lance forgot where he left it when he was planning on throwing it away again) - Despite being a flirt, Lance cannot handle being flirted with. Keith is surprisingly smooth with his comebacks (it's only when he doesn't try). - Keith sometimes accidentally (or purposefully, depending on the situation) initiates physical affection and it flusters Lance to no end. - He prefers wearing gold because Keith told him one time that it suited him. Aka: Keith's opinion of anything Lance wears is what he sticks to as a fashion choice.

I've got more for the other characters! Stay tune for those. Next up: Pidge & Hunk, the lil' nerd duo!

PART: 2 & 3

[smoooothoperator]

Beautiful Stranger

10: Ready Or Not

Driver! Lando Norris x OC (Lily Barton)

Summer love, strangers to friends to lovers, Greece and Greek mythology references

Words: 2.7k

warnings: Lily's pov, handritten and falshbacks in italics

Masterlist

Official playlist

previous part | next part

a/n: hello guys!! I'm warning you, the next chapter will be the last one of the story! (not including the epilogue, obviously). I hope all of you like this chapter even if for me seems boring, love you all❤️

Every type of feedback is very welcomed

She was broken.

The moment she heard the knocks on her front door she knew he was leaving. Leaving forever.

No matter how much pain he gave her, no matter if he lied to her. She fell in love with the person that shared those days with her. She should forgive him, right? Give him a second chance and let him explain.

But how? How can she do that? Why is it so hard to control her emotions? 

Logan, or Lando, whoever he is, lied to her. It's not funny when someone lies to you. But when that person knows everything about you, all your fears and deepest secrets, the trust is gone so quickly.

And that's what happened to her. She trusted him enough to let him sleep on her bed, to let him take showers in her bathroom, to have a bath with her. Enough trust to give herself to him.

And now she's standing in the middle of her apartment, with cushions and blankets on the floor, balls of paper ripped off of her sketchbook with portraits of him. 

"How could you?" she mumbled, looking at the first draw she ever made of him. Those eyes staring back at her, this time with a mocking gaze. "Why…"

She spent that day in her bedroom, under the blankets trying to find some comfort and emotional support. 

But the pictures on her phone weren't helping at all. All the memories coming back while watching them, those weren't helping at all.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed excitedly, walking closer to one of the pillars of the ruins. "We are in Delfos!"

She was looking around, like a kid in a candy store, and he took pictures of her. He took pictures of her smile and how her eyes were bright while looking at all those ruins.

"I only see broken things" he joked, making her slap his arm softly.

"Just imagine it" she said, pointing around. "It just gives me shivers thinking about it"

"You are so cute" he chuckled, kissing her temple. "Come on, take a picture with me"

She sighed, locking her phone and leaving it on the other side of the bed. 

She took a deep breath, feeling how the wave of sobs started again. Her brain was punishing her for trusting someone like him, making her remember all the moments she had with him, all the moments she started to fall harder and harder for him.

Logan was a liar and she loved him. 

Lily tried to love before. To fall in love with her fiance, or even like him. That man was good with her, he didn't deserve to be left alone in that church, without a wife and with all their family laughing at him.

"Liliane, would you like to go out for dinner with me?" Adrian asked her, walking inside her apartment. "Come on, get ready"

"Adrian… I really don't want to go outside" she sighed l, closing her book and leaving it on the coffee table. 

"Then I'll make you something and we'll have dinner here" he nodded. "I saw you have a nice wine around, maybe I can make something and we can open it"

She took a deep breath, looking at the man. How can someone like him accept what his parents did? He's 26 years old and she's 23, how can someone accept something like that just to make their parents happy? What type of parents are them? 

"Alright" she nodded. "What are you going to make?"

"Well… I heard that you love Greece" he said. "And casually one of my coworkers' customer is the owner of one of the most famous Greek restaurants in London"

"The Andromeda?" she gasped. "No way, that's one of my favorite restaurants in London!"

"I know, that's why I asked if I could have the recipe of their most famous dish" he said, showing her the screen of his phone.

"That's… that's awesome, Adrian" she smiled softly, visibly touched by the gesture he had with her. 

"So yeah, continue reading whatever you were reading while I cook our dinner" he nodded.

Adrian was a handsome man, someone that has all the girls of the company behind him. But she wasn't jealous. She didn't see him that way, she couldn't see herself being in love with him even if she tried.

She blames the karma for everything that is happening to her. If only she tried to be how her parents wanted her to be, or accept her destiny and marry a man she couldn't love.. if she didn't abandon her family, none of this would be happening.

She was heartbroken, knowing that she was having an inner fight, wanting to get up from her bed and go talk with him or just ignore him until he leaves the next day.

The first half hour was easy. She only had to close her eyes and take deep breaths, ignore the noise of her surroundings and focus on her heartbeat. 

But again, memories with his face on it came back.

"Lily!" he giggled, getting out of the water of the sea and running towards her.

"Don't you dare! No! Logan!" she exclaimed, knowing that he was going to hug her with his body wet from the water. "Stop it!"

"Come on, let's cool down a little" he chuckled. "You are too hot. And I'm not saying it because you are hot and sexy. If I out an egg on your thigh I bet it would fry"

"You are exaggerating" she laughed, rolling her eyes.

"Come to the water with me, come on" he asked her, kissing her shoulder. "It's really nice"

"I was tanning, Logan" she sighed, sitting on the towel.

"And you can continue that later" he smiled. "Come on, are you the same Lily that the same day you had your ankle bandaged, needed to be in the water and fell to the floor of the bathroom? Or the one that literally dragged me out of my apartment to take you to the beach?"

"Oh, and you loved doing that" she smiled, pecking his lips. "Didn't you?"

"Of course I did" he chuckled. "And I loved every minute of that and what came next"

She felt tears again, making her close her eyes hard and gasp while opening them again and sit on the bed.

She heard that love comes with pain, but never imagined it could be that painful.

She doesn't know when she fell asleep, thinking it wasn't possible after what happened, but the knocks on the front door were the reason she woke up.

She heard him. His voice was sad, it didn't sound the same as the previous days. 

Lily wanted to open the door, to ask him to stay and never leave. But it was for the best, for both of them. She wanted to tell him so many things, ask him so many things… but her body wasn't helping at all, staying still on the door of her bedroom.

She saw the paper slipping through the door, making her breath get stuck in her throat and her heartbeat increase. She was battling her own body to walk towards the door, wanting to see him one last time. But her body wasn't cooperating.

Maybe she has to forget him. Maybe it's a sign her own body is sending her. Her brain and heart were having an argument, her angel and demon were fighting on her shoulders.

"Why would you want to go to him? He lied to you! He deserves your hate and your silence" her mind and demon groaned.

"You love him, Lily. And he just said he loves you. Everyone deserves a second chance" her heart and angel argued back.

"No" she frowned, looking at the paper. She wants to pick it up, to read it. Maybe it has the answers she's been searching for.

"He hurt you, Lily" her demon said. "Burn that thing. Rip it off. He doesn't deserve your pardon"

Her body was working. Her legs were taking her to the door, letting her grab the paper. It was like her body was being controlled by cords, she was a ragdoll.

"Please, Aphrodite" she mumbled.

She believes in love. She always wanted to find someone who loves her no matter what. Someone who would give her everything she needed and deserved. 

And he, Logan, gave her everything.

Ignoring the paper, she opened the door hoping to find him there, waiting for her.

But there was no one waiting. 

"Fuck" she mumbled, looking down and closing the door.

The paper remained untouched and ignored for days. All her answers were there, and still, she didn't want to read them. Every time she walked out of her apartment she stepped on that letter. 

"Kalimera, Lily" Nora smiled weakly at her. "How are you feeling?"

She looked at the woman in front of her, watching her sad smile directed to her. She knows what happened.

"Good" she lied. 

"Lily…"

"No, really. I'm good" she nodded. "I’m really good”

“How many times will you repeat that you are good? Are you doing that to convince yourself?” Nora sighed, placing her hand on her shoulder and squeezing it softly. “You don’t have to lie to me, kid”

“I just…” she sighed, feeling how her shoulders got heavier. “He lied to me, Nora… he made me fall in love and believe his lie from the start. You know me. You know that I don’t like lies…”

“Was it really a harmful lie?” the woman asked, grabbing the chair next to her and sitting on it. “You know why he did that?”

“It doesn’t matter. He lied” she mumbled.

“It does matter. He’s famous. You know how that life is, you know how it is being the daughter of someone that has an important name” she said. “You came here to escape, just like him”

“But that’s not a reason to lie! To tell me that he’s a person he’s clearly not”

“You are being selfish here, Liliane” Nora said, making her flinch when she heard her birth name. “You came to this town escaping from your life, making everyone believe that you are someone you are not. Tell me this, kid. Do you keep that ring you came with? Do you still have the money your parents gave you?”

“Nora…”

“No. This is my time to talk” the old woman interrupted her. “You came to Parga the same day of your wedding. You came to this town with things from your previous life and locked them in a wardrobe. You know you can’t hide from f¡your past forever, Liliane”

“Stop calling me that name…” she mumbled.

“It’s your name. Can’t you see? You came here and did the same thing he did! You changed your name and made everyone believe your lies” she frowned. “That guy loves you. That guy came here all days asking how to make your favorite dishes, which places he should take you. That guy called to check if there weren’t any paparazzi around because he didn’t wanted to expose you two because he knew that sooner or later someone would find him”

“I didn’t ask him to do any of that!”

“Exactly! He did that because he loved you! He loves you! Did you read the letter? Did you read the emails?”

“W-what emails?” she frowned.

“I gave him your email address”

“Nora!”

“Lily, please. I want you to be happy, he made you happy” Nora sighed holding her hands. “Just give him a chance”

Lily sighed, getting up and getting ready to work, trying to get distracted and not look at her phone.

If he sent her emails, why not send her a text? Oh, right… because they never exchanged their numbers.

Summer finished. And then autumn came. 

She read his letter a month later, having to grab it after receiving a package with his name on it. 

The moment she opened the box, his perfume invaded the apartment, knowing that he sprayed it on the clothes inside of it.

She sighed, grabbing the baby blue hoodie and hugging it. It definitely smells like him.

"Idiot" she whispered, breathing the scent of the material. 

A card caught her attention, making her sigh when she recognized his handwriting.

My amazing Lily,

I hope you like this hoodie. I read that the cold in Greece comes late, but I know that you like to wear hoodies no matter the weather outside. 

I hope next time we meet you wear this hoodie. 

I miss you.

I love you.

Yours,

Lando.

She sighed, tracing the handwriting with her fingertips. She remembers how he used to write on her notebooks, trying to copy the words she wrote in Greek.

She imagined how he looked while writing this letter, how he could be biting his lip, how he could shrug his nose.

The day she received the box, she read his letter and emails, making her wonder how he's doing, how is his life without her.

She wanted to answer, write to him and call him. But there was something stopping her. 

What was it? Fear? Maybe… Anger? No. 

Pain. The knife of betrayal was still buried on her chest and everytime she read about him, it slipped deeper and deeper. 

Maybe his life is better without her. Maybe she was only a summer fling for him. Maybe he doesn't need her anymore.

That's what she thought while opening her email app, not finding news about him. 

Maybe… maybe he forgot about her.

He went from writing all weeks to write only once a month. Even if he said that he loves her, she feels alone, not loved anymore.

Maybe she should write to him. Maybe she should ask why he doesn't write to her anymore. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe…

Maybe she deserves this, all the torture and the pain. Because Nora was right: she's a liar too.

What she considered her home was now a torture room, making all the memories of them come back to her. The town she loved was now the stage where ghosts of them danced in synchrony, making her remember that he's no longer with her.

Everytime she walked through that street she could remember the first time he saw him, making her feel goosebumps on the ankle she injured.

Everytime she went to that private beach she could remember all the times they nearly kissed, how he confessed that he was dying to kiss her, searching for orange shells and talking about nothing. Now she looks around trying to find those shells as a way of having him close to her again.

This place holds too many memories of him, of someone that is no longer hers.

Maybe she has to leave and find a new home, a new place, and start from zero. Be herself, Liliane Barton. 

She called him immature. But how wrong was she, when the immature here was herself, living on a lie she created even if she escaped from one. She never wanted to be what her parents asked her to be. She thought that she could be like those women from the tales her babysitter read to her when she was a kid. She thought she could be brave and strong, a fighter everyone could respect.

But to be fair, she's still being a little girl that wants to escape from the real world.

"Mature, you idiot" she groaned looking at herself in the mirror. 

She tried to find somewhere to go. Somewhere to settle down and act like the adult she is. A home, a job… whatever she needed.

"What if he comes back?" Nora asked her with a sad smile, grabbing the keys of the apartment. "What if he's searching you?"

"Will he?" she smiled weakly. "Do you really think he will come? I don't think so… he stopped writing, Nora. Even if I wrote to him once he never replied. I'm the past…"

"Oh, Lily…"

"Liliane" she corrected her. "I learned my lesson. No more lies"

"I'm proud of you, little girl" she smiled, hugging her. "But… I'm sure he will come"

"Then if he does that you know what to do" she whispered, hugging the woman that was like a mother to her one last time, pulling away and grabbing her suitcase.

When she came for the first time to that town, dressed with a summer dress and her hair styled as a bride, she was a scared girl.

But now, dressed with a red hoodie and the name of the eSports team of someone she still loves on it, she feels free.

This time she's free.

taglist

@lestappenloverr @racinggirl @roni-midnights @livster8 @kakorrhaphiphobia @starkeyellow @celestialpierre @ophcelia @msliz @lorarri @ironmaiden1313 @imsorare @mycenterfold @im-an-overthinker @soosheee @karmabyfernando @landoyesrizz @sticksdoesart @beatricemiruna @nonameishere @flwr-stella

[aurorawest]

I finished The Mars House last night and have been trying to gather my thoughts beyond ADJFAWEHDHA; and AHHHHHHHH. Let's see how this works out.

In a lot of ways this is a pretty typical Natasha Pulley book, which makes you love complicated people who have done bad things, possibly for good reasons and possibly not. The love interest is to all appearances a xenophobic nationalist, but you better believe I loved Gale pretty much immediately.

In other ways this book is different from her past work—obviously there's the far future setting, but it's pretty clear that Pulley wanted to Say Something about gender with The Mars House. This book is a response to and shots fired at the terf ideology and it is not at all subtle about it. And of course, it's a Natasha Pulley book, so there's still empathy for the far-future Martian terfs.

So I would definitely call it the most...political? of her books, which for me was not at all a bad thing. It has everything that I love about Pulley novels—her gorgeous use of language, her ability to wring beauty and pathos out of the small and ordinary, the gay pining, the morally dubious main characters. I've seen reviews say both that the science is ridiculous and that the book is hard science fiction, and I would come down on the side of the science probably being a bit ridiculous, since it's definitely not hard science fiction (lol at the reviewers who are throwing that term around and not knowing what it means). I actually have no idea if the science is plausible or not and I honestly don't care, because that's really not the point of the book.

Anyway, now I'm just going to list things. Doing a read more for spoilers! And I'm not joking, I'm going to spoil the whole book under here so really, if you haven't read it and you care about that, don't keep reading.

The worldbuilding was so good. I mean, this is one of Pulley's strengths, but I had wondered how it would stack up in a sci fi novel versus her historical fiction. As usual, everything was so visceral and textured. Tharsis and Songshu feel like real places I could visit.

THE MAMMOTHS OMG OMG. When they decided to ask the mammoths for help pulling up the gravity train, I almost jumped up from the couch yelling (I would have, but I couldn't disturb my cat who was on my legs). The entire idea of communicating with mammoths and studying mammoth society almost made me cry. Having spent even a tiny amount of time around elephants in the wild, all of that rang 100% plausible. And true in my heart.

I need a sequel where River and January go to Alpha Centauri to talk to the aliens that the Penglai mission is going to find there.

I'M ABOUT TO SPOIL THE ENTIRE BOOK SO DON'T READ ANYMORE IF YOU DON'T WANT THAT.

Speaking of River, yeah I guessed that "Aubrey" was actually River. The clues were well done and I felt smug when I was right.

But!! I actually thought River knew more than they did! A literal chill went up my back when River revealed they had NO IDEA AUBREY WAS LITERALLY IN THEIR ROOM WITH THEM.

The scene in River's bathtub had me screaming crying throwing up.

Is Natasha Pulley working through something re: waifish orphans? I knew Yuan was going to end up being adopted into House Song within pages of their (his?) introduction.

I love that we never find out if River is biologically male or female. I love that January says it doesn't matter and he means that and never tells us.

Speaking of gender abolition, can I have that please for myself.

All of the animals were, as always, a delight. Shoutout to the puffin at the beginning who we never see again, as well as Shuppiluliuma in her basket.

The ancient Mediterranean references littered through this book (see above) were also a delight.

When you think about it, both of Aubrey's consorts fell for River, and that's funny.

The flashes of love between River and Aubrey were devastating.

The haptic implants are a dystopian nightmare and absolutely a realistic prediction of where we're going to end up.

Mori and Daughter!!

[crystalyssa35]

A General Guide to Writing Well, Now, & Consistently

In all my years writing, I have struggled with keeping writing as a fun and healthy habit. It took me five years (and many instances of writer's block and giving up) to actually have a basic set of guidelines to keep my writing going...

And I would like to share these "rules" with you all today!

Now, a bit of a disclaimer: developing the quality of your writing skills comes with time, research, and thinking. It may sound frustrating to hear, and you may hear it often, but the only way to get better at writing is to write and read often. Many times, just by jotting a silly thought down or reading fanfiction, you can spawn ideas without realizing it.

Now, to the list of tips that (I hope) will help you on your writing endeavors!

If you are not having fun writing your story, your readers will not have fun reading it. It sounds silly, but it's true! If you're enjoying your writing, you're more likely to write more and input more ideas into it!

Even if you have people to check your works, reread them on your own anyway. This may be a little frustrating tip for some, but let me tell you: I used to HATE checking my own stuff. The worst way I learned that personally checking it is a necessity was when my aunt checked it and pointed out tens of mistakes within my grammar, storyline, and characters. Check yo work, it will save you a LOT of embarrassment in the future.

Write anything. Read everything. As ambiguous and obscure as it will sound, it makes sense with context. As I mentioned before, the only way to get better at writing is to write and read often. Write anything your mind desires, that's simple enough. But read EVERYTHING; not only books, blogs, and articles, but also games, texts with friends, billboards, pictures with text, and (sorry, students) even homework as well. You'll be surprised how much your vocabulary expands when you actually pay attention to anything that is written (for me, it was video games. Seven-year old me knew vocabulary that I was taught in seventh grade because of it). And on that note...

Research what you don't know. Please, this one is genuinely important (I'm biased because it's one of my pet peeves). This includes words you don't know the definition of, spelling, and even generic, real-life information you want to add into your stories (e.g. I actually spent four hours researching how gemstones are categorized for my sci-fi story: Eco-Adstrum). Unfortunately, sometimes researching and fact-checking your ideas before writing them down can prove to be unmotivating, especially when you're wrong. But, it's always good to stay optimistic and be creative enough to twist the actual fact to mold it to your stories. Unless you're writing non-fiction, then maybe don't do that last bit.

If you have no ideas, keep wiggling your pencil. To those that recognize that phrase, yes, it is not my own. This is a piece of writing from former Tumblr user "officialtheonite" (I was only able to find the post because it has been reblogged multiple times) and their fifth grade writing teacher. Essentially, even if you have no ideas, keep writing. Write ANYTHING, even if it doesn't make sense. You will always be able to double-check it later and you will save yourself a lot of wasted time sitting around trying to stir the soup in your brain.

Balance the usage of your names and pronouns. To this day, I still struggle with this. I tend to use an abundance of pronouns when I'm referring to a character, so much so that sometimes, it becomes unclear on if we are still talking about aforementioned character or if we're talking about a different character entirely. Use names when the focus or action of a character is on stage; use pronouns if we are still talking about said character (even if we are talking about the same character, make sure you at least reiterate their name when there's a new paragraph).

I'll be editing and reworking this list as time goes on. I hope these tips can be of use so some of you all. Feel free to ask me any questions if needed. Enjoy writing and keep at it! I believe in you all!

[ddarker-dreams]

Hi Lock~ I wanted to ask you abt how you got into literature, and how you’d maybe recommend someone else to start? I want to expand on my reading (and also you’ve hyped up Dostoevsky sooo much I’m hooked but I KNOW I’m not at that lvl yet haha) but there’s so many different sources and stuff idrk where to start. I have seen your list of recommendations and other people’s lists as well but Im never sure if they’re a good place if someone is just starting into literature; I’ve been really interested in Picture of Dorian Gray, Jane Eyre and Frankenstein right now, do you think they’d be okay? Did you look at books you knew you’d be into? Or did you try out smth new entirely? Also did you look at any sources online that you could recommend? I know I’ve asked a lot so you of course don’t have to answer them, but please let me know what you think!!

I also wanted to ask, as someone who’s read many classics in literature, in your opinion, how would you define literature? And what do you think makes a book a classic?

From a very clueless anon, hope you and bun bun have a great day and stay hydrated!!!!

hello anon!!! there are so many interesting questions here, i'll try answering them to the best of my abilities!!!!

(how i got into literature)

i'd been neglecting published works for most of my life because i just preferred fanfic way more. it wasn't until a bit into 2021 that i saw this Discourse Causing Post that 'you can't grow as an author if you don't read published works,' or something among those lines. i thought this was really interesting because i'd never given it much thought. around that point, even though writing was a hobby, i felt really motivated to improve. i normally spent no more than a day or two on a story before moving onto the next. which is fine, because fanfic writing is a hobby, but i felt i'd be capable of more if i put in the extra time and effort.

so basically i got into it because i wanted to write my silly little yandere fics better jdfklgjsdg

(recommendations for getting into literature)

i focused on the genre i thought i'd be the most interested in: horror. then i branched out from there. i looked up what people considered must-reads for the genre because i figured that'd be a good place to start. if you know what sort of genres you like, doing some research into its most prevalent/foundational works isn't a bad idea. that's the approach i took. authors throughout the centuries influence and inspire one another, i wanted to be able to map those connections out. this also helps give some context to older books with references that'd be loss on a modern audience.

(how i went about looking into books to see if i wanted to read them)

i research everything like my life's on the line, so i do look into books before i read them. i go for a synopsis that doesn't include spoilers and consider if that's a story i'd get invested in. if not, i'll read some reviews for fresh perspectives. if i'm still kinda meh by then, the book gets passed on.

(defining literature/classics)

UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH literary theory is not my field of expertise ... i'd personally define literature as any written work such as fiction and nonfiction. it can encompass so many things that defining it feels tricky. as for how i'd define a classic, all art is subjective or whatever, but there are stories that just have the It factor. whether that is their cultural impact, or works that are pillars to the genre(s) they were written in. you can see the ripples that it made after its publication.

finally, as for the books you listed (jane eyre, the picture of dorian gray, and frankenstein), i'd highly recommend them!!! all of them are apart of the gothic genre, which is one of my favorites. they've all stood the test of time for good reason.

[asherheed]

sunsets of our youth

⚘ ‹ featuring › alhaitham x fem!reader

⚘ ‹ tags › lighthearted, fluff, meeting for the first time, partnerships, banter, they're schoolmates, in my head the six darshans have a point system like in hogwarts, reader is trying to be civil and keeping it together but fails anyway, implied pining

⚘ ‹ note › i'm back from the hell that is uni (sorry for being v ia my priorities are all over the place) with another alhaitham fic to commemorate his arrival in the next update <3 good luck to everyone who will be wishing for him!!

Today will be a good day – this was something you’ve been trying to tell yourself lately as your final thesis defense for the current academic quarter scheduled by the Herbad assigned to your field of study was drawing near. Not only were you plagued with one major academic deadline, but you were also required to participate in a paired final debate for a school event with a guy named Alhaitham that made you question your sanity.

Most of your days were spent inside the House of Daena double-checking if your references were dependable, so with each question asked of you would be answered with brevity and a certainty that your responses would leave no room for further questioning. You weren’t the type of person who would break under the interrogation of your own research. You’ve dedicated time to understand it, cultivated methodologies to achieve near-perfect results. Although your classmates might repeatedly say you were doing too much already as one of the leading students in the Akademiya, you simply would not settle for less, especially when the final deliberation of grades was just around the corner.

It doesn’t help that competition among your peers is as toxic as an unmonitored game of TCG. If you were to simply not go above and beyond, you would hardly be able to hold a prestigious position reserved for Vahumana scholars and have the academic freedom to pursue your own research without having to consider the ethics involved (not that you would do something illegal).

Walking up the stairs to the library, you made your way to your favorite spot in the room: the table near the shelves containing books for Haravatat students. You smiled as you saw your seat was unoccupied, placing the books you’ve borrowed the week prior and the scrolls containing your notes on the empty table.

Today you were unsurprisingly earlier than your habitual schedule. Then again, given that there were only four weeks left until the defense, you wanted not to waste any time dawdling in the comfort of your bed. Being painstakingly neutral with that time limit made you restless. You were glad most of your classmates opted to finalize their work a week prior to the deadline, as you have most of the library all to yourself.

Well, and to the gray-haired man who just walked in, eyeing you distastefully.

You raised an eyebrow and opened your scrolls as he approached your table. Skimming through the unmarked references you needed to check, you took out the books necessary for examination, and was about to get started when an irritated sigh made you turn away.

You looked at the man, tilting your head to the side. “Can I help you with something?”

He pursed his lips, frowning. “You’re in my seat.”

Glancing around the room, you replied, eyebrows furrowing, “There are plenty of empty seats nearby.”

“Yes, and you’re in my favorite one.” He replied like this was public information.

A dazed look of bewilderment crossed your face, and you schooled it into impassiveness, uncertain of your next approach. “You don’t own this library.”

He rolled his eyes as if you were being unreasonable. “Obviously.” He replied, pulling out the seat opposite to yours and placed his scrolls and books with a huff.

Narrowing your eyes, you glanced at your scrolls and pressed a hand to your temples.

Today is going to be a good day.

Remarkably, everything was going well between you and the man. You kept to your side of the table, and he did the same. His gaze was intent on his work, and you found his undoubtedly unpleasant presence to be tolerable than you expected. The sound of rustling parchment from the occasional shift of position and the turning page of a book filled the air between you two, and you felt a sense of relief from the interaction you had with him earlier did not escalate to further unpleasantries.

All good things must come to an end, though, as you surreptitiously eyed the books, he had with him.

“You’re from Haravatat, aren’t you?” You asked as he glanced at you and nodded. “What’s your research all about?”

“Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to disclose that at my own discretion,” he muttered, and you clenched your jaw.

“I can assure you that I’m not someone who would stoop so low and steal the subject of someone’s thesis.” You grumbled, discomfited by the fact that he could just accuse someone of such a thing so blatantly. How rude.

Leaning back, he pursed his lips in thought, then sighed. “I’m defining how the approach of Haravatat and Vahumana on the study of history has its consequential influence on the interpretation of the universal rules and various ruins.” He answered, raising a brow expectantly. “I’m certain you’re well-acquainted with this argument, seeing as your school is part of my study.”

You shifted in your seat at his scrutiny of your presence, contemplative. “How did you know I’m from Vahumana?”

“You are Y/N, aren’t you?” He cleared his throat and rested his chin on his hand. “Part of the Akademiya’s Top 10? You’re practically famous.”

A flush crept across your cheeks and he avoided your gaze. “That’s not relevant. Those records are purposefully concealed to the public for confidentiality, unless there are exceptions.”

He leaned away from the table, suddenly resuming his work. “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“So?”

“So what?”

You sighed heavily. “How do you know me?”

“I hardly think that information is valuable. After all, the Akasha Terminal exists, and I’m clearly wearing one right now.”

Touché.

Grimacing, you turned on your Akasha Terminal. You didn’t really like using it because it often provided you with headaches in the morning, but you felt foolish for not trying to know who this person was while he knew all about you. Apparently, even from the moment he saw you. Despite your negative sentiments towards the technology, you accepted the fact that you might be plagued by a migraine tomorrow for a solitary question.

Your vision swam as the words appeared in front of your eyes, and your mouth went dry as the man’s face emerged beside it.

“You’re Alhaitham?”

“Congratulations.”

“How is that possible? My Herbad said you were the most pleasant student he’s ever had to work with, and I’m supposed to–” your mouth fell open. “Oh, god.”

“Ten points to Vahumana.” Alhaitham mumbled, stealing a furtive glance at your flustered appearance. He looked away again, clearing his throat. “Would you want to discuss the terms of our partnership for the debate, or do you need a day to compose yourself?”

Today was not a good day. Today was not a good day at all.

Clasping your hands together, you straightened in your seat, taking note of Alhaitham’s inconspicuous way of hiding his unease at the thought of being your partner. You couldn’t blame him. You also would have preferred to meet with your partner professionally than whatever both of you did.

To be fair, you weren’t the one spouting claims for probable theft.

“Let’s strike a deal, then.” You declared, gathering your composure, and Alhaitham finally looked at you, appearing relieved. “We work on our sources for the debate and practice for the next two weeks, and then we’ll leave each other alone once we’ve won. You won’t ever see me again unless certain circumstances arise.”

He pondered for a moment before nodding slowly. “Yes, and I want my chair.”

“No, I get to keep the chair, and you’ll get to have the seat you’re on right now,” he crossed his arms, about to retort. “But we get to keep this whole table. Well, at least for as long as we cross paths unintentionally.”

“You do realize that is highly improbable considering that we go to different schools.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You don’t own this library.” He echoed your words at you, and you see the quick upturn of his lips.

You hid a smile of your own, forcing your face to remain stoic. “Obviously.”

For a moment, you wondered if he’ll reject you as his face scrunched up, but then he nodded. “I agree to the terms of your deal.” Standing up, he reached his hand out. “I hope we can work together professionally.”

You highly doubted that. You shook his hand, and it enveloped your whole hand. “I hope so, too.”

The sound of more people coming inside the House of Daena made you glance at the entrance, and Alhaitham followed your gaze. He gathered his scrolls and books. “That’s my cue.” He said, and you watched him disappear from your sight.

[infamous-if]

Hi sunshine!!

Hehe I’m gonna pretend I was the first to send an ask to your newly-cleared inbox 🤣 I was just reading your writing advice post about beat sheets and I was wondering if you had any more writing advice? Mainly how you’re able to write so much but also how you’re able to do so in a linear fashion.

I have..absolutely no writing background and my writing process is very instinctual rather than organized. I type with my eyes closed so I can visualize scenes like a movie and I follow a beat sheet consisting of “fuck it we ball”

it’s dope that you have a novel writing background, little me would think you’re like the Viola Davis of literature if she heard that. (23 year old me thinks you’re cool too dw HEHEH)

Anywaysss you know I love your IF and I’m sending you a virtual hug!! 😁

Hi! and lolol I'll pretend you were too hehe

And good question! I think having a novel background does help since I've gotten used to writing a lot. I really respect IF authors who jump into IF with no writing experience because no only do you also have to code and write multiple books (routes) in one, you're also sharing that work to the public almost immediately.

It took me having to post fanfic + indie publishing to grow a thick skin and an understanding against hate and criticism, so people who choose this as their first foray into writing have my immense respect lmao it's not easy!

Mainly how you’re able to write so much but also how you’re able to do so in a linear fashion.

I've said before that I'm able to write a lot because I plan everything before hand. I'm not capable of pantsing and I'm a plotter through and through. When I know the beats to a scene and have a goal, I can just focus on reaching that goal instead of trying to come up with a purpose.

For example, I'm currently working on a novel as well as Infamous, and I just spent like....eight hours today just working on the outline (again). I think I have about 15 different variations of the outline, but I can't write if I don't know what's coming up next. I think I spend more time working on the outline than the book. (For example: One book I spent one year working on the outline and then wrote the book in 3 months lmao).

Anyway, almost every conversation in a book has a purpose, even if it's not obvious. Sometimes it's to express motivation, further the plot, create conflict. Sometimes it's to add depth to characters which usually results in conversations that seemingly have no purpose (like the band talking about whether orion would be a good band member or not) but they do! (its to establish the dynamic and level of closeness + personalities). When I know what I want to tell in a scene and what I want to express, I don't meander as much. So I plan plan plan plan.

But really, if you work best off instinct, I encourage you to go that way. There's no right way, and you don't want to force yourself. Sometimes people write their best when they're figuring it out along the way. I'm not capable of that hahahahah

As for linear, I can NOT jump around as much as I wish. I need CONTEXT like...I love referring back to old conversations and using the older conversations as context to newer ones people who can jump around and write non-linearly are superhuman.

Typing with your eyes closed seems so cool. I do have a cinematic approach to writing as well, but I also only type with three fingers lmao (I never learned how to use all your fingers for typing) so I need to see plshfhsdfhdsj

thank you!! I love your IF as well and your energy! Your posts are so fun to read and Memento Mori is SOO GOOD!

[reejindeed]

Hi ceej, hope you're well! I was wondering how you draw scenes with multiple characters without getting overwhelmed and how you decide what poses they should be in?

When it comes to big group shots, I try to break things down into little vignette scenes by grouping characters together, usually in groups of two-three. Those two to three characters all have something going on, either someone's doing something and the rest are reacting to it or someone is striking a pose and the others are striking poses around that pose. You give yourself one anchor point, one action, and then think of how the characters would react to that action... Then you just keep repeating that process with however many characters you need to squeeze into the piece. From there it's about contrasting body language and facial expressions. Just the regular "family photo" shot can be kind of boring, especially if it feels overly posed. Generally I try to go with something that feels very candid.

Unfortunately when it comes to how to decide what to start with from there, I can't help much. I've never fully been able to describe my method beyond I'm just... Drawing what I see? I don't always feel like I'm really the one deciding what's going on in my drawings, everyone has always kind of moved around and did whatever they want. I just apply the filter of "this is supposed to be this character." I can "direct" in the way that you can direct a model, but unless you physically went up to them and moved them around like a paper doll yourself there's only so much control you have.

This is why I really struggle to explain HOW to draw something (like hands or faces) or how I choose what I draw. In my eyes, I'm drawing what I can see. I spent a lot of time training myself to "look harder, see more," throughout high school and college, so this is the method I've always preferred. Even though I'm not working from photo reference or anything like that, I can "see the model" that I get the basic shapes and movements and gestures from that I can apply to whoever it's meant to be, if it's meant to be fanart.

So other than breaking open your skull and trying to completely rewire your brain to be as crazy as mine, my suggestion would be to look at group shots from comic books and photos. See how everyone is interacting with each other, and what little stories they seem to be telling... Then think about what kind of story you want to tell yourself. It doesn't have to be a full epic, it can be as simple as "X decided to annoy Y and Z finds that amusing. A and B are judging from the sidelines, having their own conversation about it." I think a lot of baroque-era genre paintings also set these scenes really effectively, if you want something more historical to look to.

[gatitties]

Who 's the villain?

─JoFoes x gn!teen!reader (platonic)

─Summary: You wanted to have a less boring life, what you didn't expect was a kidnapping and ten villains older than the sun trying to take care of you, and not by choice.

─Warnings: none

OKAY, I'm currently finishing watching the part 4, HOWEVER, I always end up getting spoilers, I found some books on wattpad and here about this theme with the villains and I really liked it, so here I am writing this to please myself for the lack of content 😔, I'm sorry if the villains between parts 5-6 are not as faithful to their personalities, I am guided by other writings I also plan to write more parts, however not as long as this one (I just got a little excited 🙂)

You were wallowing in your misery, you angrily threw the notebook with messily written notes across your room, letting an exasperated sigh escape your lips, you wish you had an invention that would make you remember all the contents of the exam, but alas, Doraemon did not exist.

You rubbed your temples, noticing how the sun had completely hidden, you decided to go out to get something for dinner, knowing that your parents weren't big fans of dinner, they would just let you get what you wanted or if it was something more elaborate you would ask them to do whatever just for you, you settled for something simple today.

You took the food to your room, closing the door and clearing your desk full of sheets, opening your computer to put something on the background because there was no way you were going to eat without seeing something, you moved restlessly in your chair, turning it as time passed ridiculously slow, one of the wheels got stuck with something and made you stumble to the ground, luckily you had already finished your meal and didn't stain anything.

"Damn, why is there always a random pencil on the floor?"

You grabbed the green pencil, looking at it as if it were your worst enemy and threw it towards the desk, it bounced and returned to the floor, but you didn't realize it, you lay down looking at the ceiling, your mind completely empty without wanting to be conscious of your responsibilities, couldn't you skip the entire phase of adolescence? Or at least, do something more entertaining? Your days were spent stuck at home without much to do because all your friends were too busy or it was difficult to agree on a date to go out together.

You got up from the floor, closing the window of your room because it started to get cold, looking at the stars, you wished you had some interesting change in the rhythm of your life, as if destiny itself had planned it, something tugged at the collar of your pajamas, you coughed from the sudden grip, struggling to free yourself from whatever was holding you, it had more strength than you and ended up dragging you out of your house, you screamed when you saw that you were falling from the second floor, but you barely had time to react when some arms picked you up and put a cloth over your mouth.

Now, when you thought about having a little more interesting life… you weren't referring to this, voices that were distant became increasingly clear as did your consciousness, it seemed that several men were arguing about something that you still didn't understand, your body shook when you opened your eyes finding several imposing people, luckily no one seemed to have noticed that you stood up so you decided to use that to your advantage.

You moved slowly along the sofa, you were about to put your foot on the floor when you felt an intense gaze on you, you exchanged glances with a tall, muscular man with barely any clothes, his hair was very pretty, but you weren't going to stop and flatter him right now.

"The little human has finally woken up, maybe they have some answers about this situation."

"Little human? My God, I've been kidnapped by aliens…"

You mumbled, swallowing hard as you saw that now all eyes were on you, you laughed awkwardly, lowering your other foot to the ground, everything remained in an awkward silence until you decided to use your legs to run wherever as fast as you could.

You went up a flight of stairs, hearing footsteps behind you, you went crazy when you saw the magnitude of the house you were in, you could easily get lost in the maze of hallways and rooms, you managed to avoid the arms of another tall and strong guy, luckily you were elusive, you turned into a hallway and hid in a closet watching as a blonde with fangs and some kind of priest were looking for you, once they left your vision you ran down again hoping to get out the door.

You were startled when another blonde man in a purple suit grabbed your shoulder before you could reach the living room where you woke up, sending a quick kick to his shin you ran towards the door, unfortunately another person grabbed you to stop you, this time you didn't hold back and screamed when he approached you, latching onto your waist in a strange hug.

The strange thing is that he started to scream just as scared as you, you slowed down your scream while the pink haired boy continued to have a commotion, the strange situation left you confused, but the presence of the others entering the room made you react, looking at the windows of the living room, you made the new plan, and before anyone reacted or guessed your thoughts you ran to the windows, or tried to.

"Ack-! What the hell…?"

Your head began to hurt because you fell directly to the ground, frowning when you saw a damn green pencil rolling on the ground, you groaned in pain and trembled when you saw how everyone surrounded your body, apparently you had nothing more than to accept your fate .

"Oh Father who art in heaven, forgive me for having insulted all those people while playing Roblox and Minecraft, forgive my sins and let my body rest in-

"Hey kid, you're not dying, cut that shit."

You frowned at the blonde who interrupted you, he had a stupid helmet with the word 'Dio' on it, before you could complain the priest spoke.

"No, it's good for young people to pray, continue."

You looked blankly at the guy, did he really think you were seriously praying? Someone picked you up by grabbing your ankle, you tried to look at the redhead who had picked you up and was looking at you with big eyes analyzing every movement, but your neck started to hurt trying to get a good look.

"Santana, that's not how you hold people."

Another giant snatched you up, now holding you with his arm on your legs, instinctively your arms went around one of his shoulders to keep you upright.

"Now then… I think you have something to explain to us, don't you?"

You blinked a couple of times in bewilderment, looking at all the men in the room, you pointed at yourself in confusion, exchanging awkward glances with everyone.

"Excuse me, I did what, exactly?"

"Don't play dumb! As much as I would like to live again to reign in this world, I, Dio, remember exactly that I died and now I am here."

One of the blondes pointed at you accusingly as if you had caused him to come back to life, a shiver ran through your entire body, pushing your body further against the man who was still holding you.

Each one expressed their displeasure against an entire lineage, all apparently dead on another occasion or timeline, leaving you even more confused, how did these crunchy old fossils think a teenager brought them back to life if you seem even more confused than them? Apparently everyone woke up before you and started an argument, accusations flew between them but they came to the conclusion that none of them knew anything, so that's why you were the last accused, the last to wake up.

"Well eh- I'm sorry to disappoint you but I have nothing to do with it, the last time I checked I wasn't doing any ritual to bring back dead people…"

Everyone seemed ready to discuss the topic again, but the television in the living room suddenly turned on, the guy who was still holding you, crushed you against his broad chest, scared by the electronic device, while the majority watched expectantly.

A video from a certain 'Speedwagon foundation' began to play explaining some things about a social reintegration program, something about a second chance in an alternate universe and things that you couldn't understand, apparently the others seemed to understand most of the references about some things called stands and their weakening, throughout the entire explanation you looked with your eyes blank, not knowing that you were painting with what seemed to be villains from another universe, apparently the video coincided with your thoughts when you heard your name come out from the person speaking in the screen.

"And another thing that will show that you are capable of returning to society as rational people is being able to take care of the teenager that you have at your side, we hope that they can also provide you with some reasoning and kindness."

"I don't think I gave my consent for this… isn't this considered kidnapping?"

The television was turned off, leaving now a very silent room, apparently that foundation had enough power to do anything, they fulfilled your wish to change your pace of life, but at what cost? Everyone looked at you again.

"So we just have to not kill people for a while and make sure the human doesn't die? That will be an easy task."

Everyone seemed to nod at what one of the giants said, you looked at them nervously, you weren't sure if they really understood what this was all about, but at least it ensured your life in some way.

Wamuu put you down once the whole situation became somewhat clearer, and your next move was to find your room and hide under the covers in hopes that this was a weird dream.

It was not.

You woke up suddenly when the door to your room flew to the floor, splintering in several places, well, goodbye to your privilege of privacy, the first thing you saw was the tail of a dinosaur moving slowly, which you recognized as Diego complained about the blow while Valentine ─if you remembered correctly─ looked at him with fury, the fight continued down the hallway, deciding not to intervene, your stomach asked for food.

The living room seemed a little messier than the night before, apparently some people couldn't get along with each other, you shrugged and entered the kitchen, finding a nervous Doppio being watched by Santana.

"Hello…"

You greeted, receiving a small nervous smile from the pinkette and a silent look from the pillar man, Doppio seemed to escape once Santana's eyes watched you move around the kitchen, conveniently full of food, since you were not a cook and your skills were limited, you opted for some simple toast.

"What is that thing?"

You stifled a scream when the redhead spoke, pointing to the toaster, you briefly explained how it worked as he nodded, what you didn't expect was that when the buns jumped he got scared and broke the toaster, you looked at each other in silence for a second, your buns at least landed on the counter safe and sound.

"That thing tried to attack me."

"Sure… hey, don't worry, it scared me too even when I know they're going to jump."

You'll think about how to get a new toaster later, you sat at the table that had been cleared by Kira, who seemed to be the only one to make himself something decent for breakfast, it was the only half normal at least at first glance.

The first days passed in a blur, a new toaster appeared at the entrance of the house, the arguments continued, and your routine was based on locking yourself in your room and dying of boredom, sometimes Santana followed you around the house asking about the electronics devices, of course he wasn't the only one to ask about how things worked, but your interactions were brief.

You also took charge of tidying up the house a bit, since these men seemed to have no sense of cleanliness except for Pucci, Valentine, and Kira. Your door was not yet repaired, you used a blanket to cover the opening, but you decided that today you would try to fix it, after walking around the house you found a room with tools, you didn't know what you were going to need so you grabbed a box with several heavy things.

You looked blankly at your old door, starting to glue the parts together with super glue and stapling them with a staple gun, it was good enough as it held together without falling apart again, the problem was that when trying to frame the door in place you stubbed your finger too strong.

"Oh, fuck!"

"Teenagers should not swear."

Pucci looked at you seriously as if you had committed a war crime, you could only dry a mischievous tear that escaped due to the pain in your battered finger, ignoring the priest you returned to work under his gaze.

"What are you doing here, huh? Watching the puny human?"

The last thing you needed was eyes on you, Dio's presence gave you chills and caused you to stub your fingers more than you would have liked while you finished fixing your door.

"Oh my! How can you just watch while a teen does all the work? An exemplary family man would be the one who should take care of these things."

The hammer was snatched from your hand, when you looked up you saw Valentine, who finished your poor job, the other two had disappeared seconds later.

"Thank you."

"No problem dear, you should treat those battered hands."

You nodded looking at the redness on your bruised fingers, either you had really bad aim or you were really shit at carpentry, but whatever.

You were mostly ignored as no one really cared about your existence because you seemed to be able to take care of yourself, however Doppio found himself attached to you, you didn't know if it was because he was just as fearful as you in some ways or because he found comfort in you because you seemed less tougher on him than the others, they weren't especially friendly or at least their appearance was scary enough not to be around.

But you started to lose your mind, you wished you could do something with your boring life, however your routine was to spend your days watching fights break out, considering that all your electronic devices were gone, it drove you crazy by not being able to do anything fun.

Then you entered your villain arc, you were supposed to have some immunity to these geezers, so you decided that what would reign in the house would be chaos. Everyone started to really rethink whether taking care of you was going to be that easy. You didn't even try to make things chaotic, your mere existence was, it was just something you kept to yourself, so as not to embarrass yourself or stand out too much for your clumsiness.

Kira found out that your cooking skills sucked to the point where you could burn water somehow, the pillar men would be confused as to why they can't use the TV like you told them to, and there's only a background video of some guy singing 'never gonna give you up' on a loop, Dio will find everywhere a pink diary with glitter and some red letters 'vampire diary' where there are poorly made drawings of him and Pucci with hearts, casually your tongue will rant with the words most barbarians in front of Pucci and occasionally inciting fights between Valentine and Diego, you discovered the identity problems of Doppio and his alter ego Diavolo and decided that your best option was to gaslight him to annoy.

They also discovered that you have some kind of power ─you don't─ because they find colored pencils lying randomly on the floor that they usually trip over, although you are not free from your curse either. Since you discovered all that about the stands after doing a little research on your own you started punching the air in the hope of hitting one of them.

You are only making their existence more complicated and they were already dead in other universe, do they have to take care of you? Well, you'd run around juggling knives in shoes twice your size to see how long it would take them to realize that you'd accidentally stabbed yourself, hopefully if they failed in their mission to take care of you they would return to their graves and you back to your normal life, which now seemed be much more fun than being trapped with pangea survivors.

At least now you have their attention, they will prevent you from tripping down the stairs, from burning yourself trying to cook, they will even go to the point of scolding you if you stay up late, indeed, none of them ─except for Kira─ knew what it was like to deny doing things to a teenager, so you moved on to your disobedience phase, you weren't that much of a brat, at this point you were doing it just to annoy these guys, although your real problem was with the Speedwagon foundation, since they were the ones who deemed you "fit" to show them empathy and a new way of seeing life peacefully.

The foundation definitely didn't take a psychological test before making that decision, they think you are a psychologist, and you are the one who needs a psychologist, you are definitely not the person who can fix them.

At first you thought you were locked in with them, but in truth, they are the ones locked in with you.