#I do it and sometimes it’s interesting and other times I want to scrap the whole fic

[strandnreyes]

thanks @taralaurel! tagging anyone that wants to!

[little-hermit-crab56]

I've been writing for a while so I thought I'd share some writing tips I've learned along the way.

1. Never sacrifice the flow for a quirky line.

That bit of dialogue or flowery paragraph you really like but it kinda disrupts the flow? Scrap it. I know it hurts, but you need to. If you really want to keep it, find somewhere else to put it where it actually fits in.

2. Dialogue is a dance.

Dialogue should go at the pace of an actual conversation, back and forth with little breaks and pauses. Add as little dialogue tags as possible while still making it clear who is speaking. You can also describe what is happening during a pause in the conversation rather than saying they paused, unless the pause is important.

3. Show don't tell is a guideline, not a rule.

Show don't tell is a very useful guideline, but if you're ALWAYS showing it can get exhausting to read. Skip the boring bits and just tell us what happened, then we can get to the good stuff.

4. If it's boring to write, it's probably boring to read.

If you can cut out a whole scene with little consequence to the story, you probably should. As I said before, you don't always have to show us, you can always tell us.

5. Everything needs to have a purpose.

I know there are probably lots of interesting or cute scenes where your characters are just fucking around, but if it doesn't develop character, relations, conflict, or plot, why should we care? Definitely still write them if they make you happy, but if you're gonna add it to your final draft, make sure it matters.

6. You don't need to explain everything all at once.

I know it feels tempting to put all the lore, and all the character's intentions, and reasonings into the first few chapters, but please refrain, you can reserve that for your character and worldbuilding sheets. Instead, take the time to let us get to know the characters, and the world, in the same way we'd get to know a real person. Make your exposition as seamless and natural as possible. It will take practice to know when to reveal information and when to let us wonder, but you'll get there.

7. Write in a way that comes naturally.

I know you probably have an author you wanna write just like, but that is unlikely to happen. Embrace your natural writing style and perfect it, rather than trying to be something you're not. Writing is an art, you need to find your own style and polish it as best you can.

8. Try to make us feel connected by cutting out certain words like "felt".

"Chad felt like a glass of water." Can be replaced with, "Chad was thirsty, so he reached for a glass of water." Both sentences tell us Chad wants a glass of water, but one makes us feel more connected to Chad than the other. Though both sentences have their time and place, you want to make your audience feel as close to their protagonist as possible. Make them feel like they're there, rather than just an onlooker.

9. We don't need to know every physical detail of your character.

I know you probably spent ages creating the perfect characters and you want to give us the perfect image of what they look like, but it can get monotonous and boring, why do we care that your character has brown eyes unless the colour has some sort of significance? Try to list off only the most notable features of your character and put focus only on the relevant details. Sometimes you can even not describe them at all and throw in little bits of information about their appearance for the audience to put together. We read to imagine, not to have a perfect image painted for us when we could be getting to the plot.

10. You're allowed to be vague.

Allow your audience to assume things, with some things you can just be lazy and let your audience's imagination do the work for you. Of course, don't do this with important things, but you can save so much time you might've spent researching an irrelevant topic when you can just be vague about it. You don't have to know everything you're writing about, so long as you know the bits that matter.

11. Writing is a skill that takes practice.

Don't be so hard on yourself if your writing is a bit cringe, we've all been there. The important part is that you research how to get better and keep writing those super cringe chapters. One day you'll reread something from a while ago and realize you're actually not as bad as you thought.

12. Leave your work to rest.

I know you wanna start editing right away, but once you've finished, leave it for at least a month. The longer you leave it the better, but that depends on your attention span. A month to six months is good if you're really impatient but want a good result. If you keep writing in that time your skills will continue to improve, then you'll be editing that draft with fresh eyes and fresh skills.

And if you're a fanfic author, I usually leave my chapters for a week before editing and posting.

Hope this helps anyone struggling, I thought this might be especially relevant now with nanowrimo.

I recently realized how much knowledge I've been accumulating over the years, I definitely have more but this is all I can think of for now.

I'm no writing guru, but if anyone has anything they're struggling with, I can do my best to help you out, so dont hesitate to ask questions.

[daycourtofficial]

I’m Still Stuck in the Moment

Summary: a mistake on a mission causes you to lose your memories from the last five years, including the new mating bond between you and Azriel. Can he help you get your memories back, or will you never remember the past five years?

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Author’s note: this has been a wip since October I really hope you guys like it. It’s also my longest fic to date - so please enjoy! 💕

“Stealth missions are so boring,” Cassian states from behind you.

“Maybe that’s why you usually don’t get assigned on stealth missions, dummy,” you reply while looking through the desk drawers.

“I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be looking for. Sometimes Azriel talks and I just tune him out.” Cassian mimes with his hands a talking motion and rolls his eyes.

“Cassian, why are you even on this mission if you don’t know what we’re looking for and you don’t like stealth missions?” You ask not looking up at him as you search through the papers on the desk.

“Hmm,” he says, pretending to search through the papers as he drops his voice, “it’s been a while since we’ve hung out the two of us.”

You pause and turn to look at him, a big grin overtaking your face.

“You missed me,” you say, delight coating your voice.

“No, I didn’t say that. You’re twisting my words,” he says, pretending to be annoyed, going to search a different part of the room.

You had been a part of the inner circle for about three years when the mating bond snapped into place. All throughout those three years Cassian did everything he could think of to put you and Azriel together. He’d constantly ask you two to dinner and be ‘sick’ and then magically be okay the next day. He’d force you two to sit next to each other during every dinner, solstice, lunch, breakfast, meeting. Any event where you had to sit down, you had to sit next to each other. Anytime you had to be flown somewhere, Cassian would mysteriously have flown away, leaving Azriel to fly you. The cauldron works hard, but Cassian works harder.

No one else could figure out Cassian’s borderline obsession with the two of you. Whenever Rhys or Feyre or anyone would ask him, he’d simply shrug and say “I have a hunch” or, if he was feeling particularly chatty, “I think they’d have stunning children”.

The truth was Cassian loved the both of you so much that he wanted to see you two happy. He also knew there was something between the two of you, he just didn’t know what. He was there the day you and Azriel were introduced, and he felt something. He wasn’t sure if it was possible to feel someone else’s mating bond, but he could feel the potential between you two.

You laugh as you continue rifling through the desk. “You know Cassian if you want to spend time together all you had to do was ask-“

You’re cut off by a cloud of pink dust coming out of a drawer you opened and covering your face. You start coughing and backing away.

“Shit,” Cassian says, coming over to you. He starts looking you over, assessing for damage.

“I’m fine,” you say, in between coughs, “dusty old drawer.”

Cassian looks skeptical. “Yes, because pink dust is so common.”

You roll your eyes. “We’ve searched the room, there’s nothing here. Let’s go home.”

The mission debrief was short - not much to report. The two of you searched an abandoned outpost, seeing if anything of interest was left behind, finding nothing of value or interest.

You enjoyed stealth missions, but you especially loved coming home to your overly protective mate. You two had a tradition - your own personal debrief, where Azriel would inspect every inch of you for any sign of injury. Wherever you were injured, whether it be bruise, scrap, or cut, he would place long kisses on the spot.

“Better than a healer,” he’d say.

The length of the mission would determine how long the two of you stayed locked up in each other. You two usually spent double the length of the mission together uninterrupted.

Once, after a four day long mission, no one had seen either of you for a week. Rhys had to send a telepathic message to find proof of life from either of you.

That night, Azriel checked your wounds, which you’re not even sure you had any. You considered even “accidentally” cutting your finger, but decided against it.

-

You woke up to a dark room, feeling a heavy presence wrapped around you. Whoever it was was massive, incredibly warm, and had quite the grip on you.

You’re not crazy about casual flings, but it’s not too unheard of, especially considering you spent last night drinking with Cassian and Mor at Rita’s. Mor loved playing matchmaker with you, trying to set you up with the most eligible males she could find.

You look around the room, the realization of being naked hitting you. You spot a pile of clothes on the floor and gently lift the arm off of you and slip out from under the male. You grab the clothes, putting the shirt on first. It seems to be the mystery male’s - it’s incredibly long on you, smelling of pine and mist.

“Going somewhere?” the male asks, rising up from the bed to meet you where you stand.

“Yes, I’m uh I’m so sorry but I don’t remember getting here, so I’m just going to head home.” You say, walking backwards towards the door. As the male comes closer, you recognize him.

“Azriel?” You ask.

“Yes, who else would I be?” Azriel replies, a hint of confusion dancing in his eyes, “come back to bed, you’re probably just confused after a dream.”

“Uh, wow, um I-“ you dart your eyes around the room “I’m so sorry but I don’t remember how I got here, let me go back to my room.”

He stops, all signs of playfulness gone. “You don’t have a room. This is your room. This is our room.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Sweetheart, you moved into my room a few years ago. Your room is just another guest room now.”

You blush at the nickname. Despite your best efforts, he had hardly said much to you in the time you’ve known him. Despite the nickname, the weight of his words starts to settle on you.

“Um, no I have a room here. This isn’t a very good joke, Az.” You say, opening the door to go to your room across the hall. Your feet carry you to your room, your hand resting on the knob as Azriel reaches for you, calling for you. You’re not sure why there’s such confusion in his tone. You open the door to what used to be your room, only to find it devoid of any signs you had lived in it.

The room looked like it had the day you moved in, sans the welcome basket Feyre and Rhys had assembled for you and left on the bed. The blue barren walls stare back at you, the four poster bed neatly made.

No hearth in the fire, no books on the nightstand, no flowers on the desk. Even your beloved stuffed wolf that Cassian teased you about was nowhere to be seen.

“Azriel, where is my stuff?”

Azriel stares at you, in utter shock and disbelief. He grabs your hand, leading you through the house. You’re forced to follow him, due to both his tight but gentle grip on you and your curiosity at where all of your things went. The sounds of his footsteps echo through the hall, a level of noise you’ve never heard from him. Usually he glides through these halls, not a trace of noise made to alert anyone of his presence.

“Azriel, what’s wrong?” You keep asking, and he won’t reply until you’re face to face with Rhys’s bedroom door, where Azriel starts banging fiercely on it.

Cassian is the first to poke his head out, his door down the hall from Rhys’s. Once he sees Azriel is the one causing all the commotion, he comes out into the hall, looking around for any unseen threats.

Rhys opens the door, a pair of sweatpants hastily put on as he allows the three of you entry. You assume Rhys had the same reaction to Cassian, annoyance quickly changing to concern at Azriel’s tone.

You assume that Azriel, Rhys, and Feyre are all communicating telepathically because it is dead silent in the room until Feyre comes up and tells you to have a seat in one of their chairs by the fire.

“Okay, now tell me, what happened?” Rhys asked, putting his hands on your shoulders in reassurance.

“Well I um think I’m missing a few pieces but uh last night I went to Rita’s with Cassian and Mor, I got pretty drunk, and I woke up naked in Azriel’s room. I woke up, I tried to leave, only to find out my room is gone.”

Cassian looks at you, concern etching his face, “we went to Rita’s?” He asks, pointing a finger between you and him.

“Yeah,” you say, “you had been out to see Devlen and when you came back you asked if Mor and I wanted to go out with you. No one else was here.” You look to Feyre and Rhys, becoming even more confused. “Why are you guys all back so early?”

“What do you mean “back early”?”

“Well, Azriel had some mission on the continent, and Feyre and Rhys were visiting the summer court with Amren.”

“Mother help us,” Cassian muttered, as he realized his error, dragging a hand across his face. “On our mission yesterday, she breathed in an unknown powder. It had slipped my mind, she seemed so fine, I didn’t think anything of it.”

You could feel the anger vibrating off of Azriel as he turned to Cassian, spitting “What do you mean you didn’t think anything of it? You didn’t think anything of my mate on your mission?”

Azriel’s words don’t register with you as you were too focused on Cassian’s. “But I didn’t go on any missions yesterday. I spent the day at the library, doing research. Cassian found me, asked me to go to Rita’s, and I told him I’d pay for all of his drinks if he went down to the bottom level of the library.”

“Oh, Mother.” Cassian muttered. “Let’s stop for a moment.” Rhys said, crouching in front of you. His violet eyes shone with kindness and concern as he tells you, “Feyre and I went to the summer court with Amren five years ago.”

“That’s not possible” you scoff, “you guys just left three days ago.”

You look towards Azriel, his usual stoicism a thing of comfort in times like this. Instead you’re met with deep despair as he looks back at you, and somehow you can feel that despair deep in your chest.

Rhys moves away from you as Azriel walks towards you and crouches down in front of you, looking at you like you hold his entire life in the palm of your hands, “Sweetheart,” he starts, “what am I to you?”

Your cheeks flare with heat. You start stammering, his gaze overwhelming. He wants some specific answer, this you know. His gaze is piercing and you can’t look away.

“When we were in the summer court,” Feyre starts musing, “that was… before, right?”

“Before what?” You ask, while Azriel nods his head, confirming Feyre’s question.

The room has grown silent again, before Azriel takes your hands and says “before we became mates.”

Your cheeks are on fire now, wishing you could be having this conversation in private, instead of in front of your family.

“Wait, is that why you came back early? You realized we were mates when you were on the continent?” You whisper the last part as of it’s a secret.

As if Azriel’s face couldn’t show you anymore devastation, he replies, “Sweetheart, we’ve been mated for two years.”

You couldn’t have heard him correctly. “I’m sorry,” you say, “have you been keeping it from me for two years? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Rhys steps in, sparing Azriel the pain of further explaining this to you, “you two have been mates for two years. The war with Hybern is over.”

You look into everyone’s eyes, trying to find a trace of humor, “this isn’t a funny joke, it’s quite cruel.”

“No one is joking,” Cassian says. You stand up, beginning to pace the room.

“No no no, you have to be, because either Mor thought this would be a funny joke because of my crush on Azriel or I’ve forgotten the last five years of my life, including getting a mate and surviving the war.”

You look around the room, everyone looking at either you or Azriel, not a trace of humor in the room.

“This has to be a joke because how cruel would it be for Azriel to find a mate just for them to forget everything about him. Five years! Five years of my life are gone! Up to this point in time, Azriel has said maybe five words to me!”

You are hyperventilating by this point, pacing the room, shaking.

“Rhys,” Azriel says, “please.”

Rhys envelops you in a hug, and everything goes dark for you as you slump into his arms. He picks you up, gently laying you on their couch, draping a blanket over you.

Everyone in the room is just staring at you, praying for you to just jump up and tell them this was all a joke. Azriel just sits on the floor next to you, holding your hand, tears streaming down his face.

“I-“ he starts saying quietly, “I-uh I always wondered how the Cauldron would make me suffer for making her my mate. I always knew it would take her away from me in the end, but not like this. I never could have dreamt of this outcome. I never.. never could have imagined how painful it’d be to see her forget me.”

No one is dry-eyed. Everyone is devastated for you, but especially for Azriel. Cassian, Feyre, and Rhys leave the bedroom, allowing Azriel to stay with you while Rhys keeps you under. They all head to Rhys’ study.

“There is some good news in this.”

Cassian and Feyre snap their heads to look at him, urging him to continue.

“When I was in her mind to sedate her, I could tell she still had memories of the past five years. Some of them were memories so ingrained to her that she has no idea what they are. Another thing is that I could tell the memories were there, they’re just… locked up.”

“Locked up? Like a prisoner?” Feyre asks.

“Yes,” Rhys replies, “like a prisoner.”

“So this powder is keeping her memories hostage?”

He sighs, looking towards the door, thinking about his brother’s face. “It would appear that way.”

Madja was called to look over you in your unconscious state, and after she found nothing wrong, they decided to wake you back up.

While you were unconscious, they decided that Mor and Cassian would watch over you unless you ask otherwise. Rhys wakes you up gently, asking if you need anything. After you decline, he leaves you alone with Mor and Cassian.

“So, um..” you start, not sure where to begin. “Five years?”

Mor nods.

“The war is over?”

Cassian smiles solemnly and nods.

“And Az and I?”

Cassian’s grin widens as he looks at you, thinking about the love you share with his brother. You play with your thumbs, unsure what to ask.

“What do you guys, uh, think of us? Do we seem happy?”

Cassian snorts while Mor replies, “oh we adore the two of you. Cassian is convinced he knew of your mating bond the day you two met.”

Cassian puffs out his chest in pride. “I most certainly knew, years before they did.”

“What made you know?” You ask, curiosity filling your eyes as you sat up.

“Well,” Cassian says, “the two of you didn’t interact much the first few years. Azriel needs time to warm up to people, and he’s worried he’ll scare people off if he comes on too strong. But I could just tell that he so desperately wanted to be your friend.”

“Hmm,” you muse, looking at Cassian in a confused way, “I always assumed he didn’t like me.”

Cassian looks at you quizzically, “and why is that?”

You sigh. “I always thought he found me… too soft. Too delicate.” You look out the window, and Cassian feels a pang of guilt. He knew Azriel could be a bit icy at times, but he hadn’t remembered what it felt like to not have that friendship.

Cassian studies you, “Why’d you think that?”

“I don’t know, it was just little things, I suppose. He’d never laugh at my jokes or talk to me much. Once you had paired us to be sparring partners and he just told you no and walked away to work with someone else.”

You remember a version of Azriel who hardly knew you. You’ve been placed in time right before Cassian started forcing you two to spend time together. For you, Azriel is practically a stranger.

Tears start rolling down your cheeks, “I don’t know him,” you say, “but it’s like my body knows him. I don’t.. know him.”

You take a deep breath, looking around the room to avoid Cassian’s sad face. “But I want him here. I don’t know why, maybe it’s the bond, but I just… want him here.”

You look down sighing, “I feel so bad that this is happening to him, he doesn’t deserve this. Even if I don’t know him.”

Cassian didn’t think his heart could break anymore, but he was wrong. Watching you cry over Azriel’s predicament but not your own gutted him. He moved to sit next to you on the couch and pulled you into his lap, letting you cry for a while.

After several hours of sitting with Mor and Cassian, Elain had recommended you get some fresh air, take a walk in the gardens. You ask if Azriel can join you, so he is staying near you, keeping an eye on you, but not too close.

You walked slowly, not sure if you wanted Azriel to catch up to you or to stay back. You felt gutted that this would happen to Azriel, despite your next to non-existent relationship with him up to this point.

The male trailed behind you, keeping the same distance in spite of your constantly changing pace. Your thoughts whirled and swirled, much like the shadows that dance around your mate. Your mate. You have a mate. And he’s here. That realization caused you to take some deep breaths, trying to keep yourself from spiraling into a panic.

Your brain can’t recall these things, but your body calls for him, wanting you to reach out and grab his hand. It is telling you that you stand on his left normally, allowing free range of motion for his dominant hand. It is telling you to let him lay on top of you, resting his head on your chest while he dozes off to nap. It is telling you to reach out and cup his jaw, that he will smile as you do so and pull you closer to him.

You don’t have memories of him, you have imprints of him, leaving whispers into your skin of how you were made for him. The yearning becomes too much and you need to hear him, so you turn to him and ask, “who did it snap for first?”

He blinks, a bit taken aback by your talking to him. He hasn’t heard you speak since the realization in Rhys’s office, much less speak to him directly. He takes longer strides, catching up to you quickly. He clears his throat and looks at you, “it snapped for me first, and I got to watch it snap for you.”

A soft smile graces his lips as he recalls the moment, so clearly in his memories he wishes he could send it directly to you. He can, he thinks, deciding that if you don’t have your memories, he’ll provide them for you.

“I bought you a locket for your birthday. A bit presumptuous, I know, but I had Feyre do a tiny portrait of myself to put in the locket. I also had a tiny piece of one of my siphons placed in the center so you could carry a piece of me everywhere.

“Your face lit up, but I was so nervous. I was trembling as I gave it to you. I almost dropped it when you asked me to clasp it around your neck. You hugged me so tightly, the locket pressing to my chest siphon and my siphon glowed.”

He smiles and reaches for your hand out of instinct, and you don’t pull away. When he notices what he’s done, he goes to retract his hand, but you clasp onto him harder.

“You had told me you would carry your loved ones in your pocket if you could and I got you the closest thing I could to that. I also had a shadow stay in the locket, they rotate who gets to be in the locket, but they like being close to you too. And in case of emergency they can slip out and find me.”

He pulls at the collar of his shirt, pulling out his own chain with a heart locket at the end. “You gave me one a week later. No siphon, but you used some of your light magic to embue a tiny stone so that it will glow forever.”

The locket looks so familiar, as if it was in a fairy tale you had read as a child. Your hand twitches, as if it wants to touch the locket. “You gave me the locket and when you saw it on my chest, your eyes lit up and I could feel you in my chest.”

You motion to a bench in the garden, and the two of you sit underneath a beautiful cherry blossom tree, its petals falling in the wind.

He moves his collar to tuck the necklace back in, pats it to his chest, then asks, “I’m guessing this is a lot to take in?”

You nod, “I mean it’s just been what five years? I have a hot mate that up until now he’s had no idea I’m hopelessly in love with him, the war is over, I missed Feyre and Rhys’s mating ceremony. It’s all sunshines and rainbows.”

He looks at you, “if it makes you feel better, they snuck out and did the ceremony in secret.”

He hears you grumble, “bastards” under your breath, making him chuckle.

“As for the hot mate who had no idea you were in love with him,” he pauses, watching your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, “he was the same way.”

You gape at him, hitting him on the shoulder, “don’t tell me things just to try to make me feel better!”

He laughs, “I’m not lying!”

You scoff, “You’ve spoken to me three times! One of those times you had asked me to move.”

He looks down, “okay maybe I wasn’t great at conveying it to you, but I thought about you constantly.”

You scoff again, thumping his chest, “you did not!”

“I did so!” He replies, just as childishly as you, “I spent so much of my energy trying to keep my shadows from harassing you at all hours. They kept pulling me, trying to coerce me into rooms you were in.”

He turns to look at you, your eyes a gateway to the before.

“I thought you were so pretty when you first showed up, I forgot how to breathe.”

Your cheeks heat as you look down at the ground, Azriel’s undivided attention being too much.

You look up at him, “okay, well if you were soooo in love with me, how come you refused to spar with me?”

You cross your arms over your chest, looking at the shadowsinger next to you, unable to believe that he’s your mate.

His wings flare ever so slightly, as he quietly tells you, “because being that close to you was too much.”

You look at him quizically, not quite getting what he’s referencing.

Azriel, for all his credit, is trying to be as coy as possible. The you from the present has an absolutely filthy mouth, the dirty talk between you two could strip paint off of walls. But this version of you? It feels wrong, violating almost. You’re not some innocent doe, far from it, but the way you two speak now was built on years of trust, a foundation that doesn’t exist for the version of you he’s looking at.

He sighs, coughing as he says, “I knew if I were to get that close to you, I’d have a hard time and I didn’t want to make a fool of myself in front of you.”

You bring your hand up to your mouth, giggling. “Aww the big, scary shadowsinger is afraid he’ll get a hard on while sparring. Do you have these fears with anyone else? Cassian, perhaps?”

He laughs, the first genuine laugh since you woke up yesterday morning. “Can’t say I’ve ever had that concern with him.” He shakes his head, “but also Cassian isn’t a pretty female.”

You smile, “no, I guess not. He’s not pretty, not like you.” You clamp your mouth shut, despite knowing you’ve been seeing him for years. Parts of you know this, but other parts feel the newness, the uncertainty.

He smiles, looking at you through the side of his eye. “You think I’m pretty?” It’s a sentiment you’ve told him before, but this version of you thinking it too is fascinating.

“Oh yeah, prettiest male I’ve ever seen.” You blush, deciding to tell him everything, “I uh- I asked Mor to make sure I can always sit next to you when we go out.”

Your confession causes him to pause, something he never knew about you. “Oh?” He asks, curious about this new information.

“Yeah, once she even pushed Cassian out of a seat so I could make it in time.” You laugh, remembering the shock on his face as he laid on the ground and you quickly grabbed his seat. “I thought if I sat next to you, you’d uh- fall in love with me.” You rush out the last part, your voice going quiet.

“But uh, I actually told her to forget about it, just last night. Or whenever that was….” You trail off, remembering your current predicament.

But Azriel was stuck in the past, stuck on your latest admission. “Wait, why did you tell her to let it go?”

You sigh, picking up a dandelion out of the grass, “well, I’d try really hard to get you to notice me or talk to me, but you never did.” You pick at the petals of the flower. “I figured I was annoying you, or you hated that I was keeping other girls from being able to chat you up. So I told her to let it go.”

Azriel balks at your admission, having no idea the extent of his effect on you. “I had no idea how to talk to you! You were so pretty, especially whenever we were at Rita’s.” He sighs, remembering how he’d overanalyze how to reapond to you, only to never say anything.

“It wasn’t until… Cassian.” He pauses, trailing off. “Cassian what?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest at the slight breeze.

“Cassian told me he spent a lot of time trying to seat us next to each other, to get me to talk to you. I wonder if he… got the idea after talking to you last night about it.”

You shake your head, “no, I only told Mor that - no way he knows.”

Azriel looks at you, “And how is the biggest gossip and busybody you know?”

Your eyes widen, realization hitting you, “oh my god,” you whine. “He heard me! He heard how pathetic I am!”

Azriel rolls his eyes, but you continue, “I was so drunk! I kept talking about you - and how you smell, and your hands, and your legs, oh my god.”

Your cheeks flare in heat, and your voice drops to a whisper. “I told Mor I had a dirty dream about you the other day - in detail!”

He smirks, “and what were we doing in this dirty dream?”

Your cheeks flame tomato red, as he laughs at you. “I guarantee you, sweetheart, whatever it was, we’ve done dirtier.”

He’s always enjoyed making you flustered, but this is an opportunity to fluster past you, one he will not let go to waste.

“About that,” you start, a sheepish grin adorning the cherry red of your cheeks. “How is our sex life? Is it good?” You ask, your voice lowered.

He laughs, “we make Cassian look like a prude with the amount of sex we have.” You gasp, approval for this future version of yourself. He leans in close to your ear, and whispers, “genuinely the best sex of my life.”

You bite your lip, but he continues. “Our general rule is for every night I’m gone on a mission, when I come back I have to make you finish at least once per day I’m gone.”

He chuckles low, the memory coming to him so easily. “I was once gone for twelve nights.” He pulled back, looking into your eyes. “And yes, all in one night.”

Your eyes widen, and you take a quick glimpse down towards his crotch. He watches you check him out, a smile ghosting on his lips.

You spent several days like that, most of your time spent with Azriel. You asked him about your lives together - where you two lived, what your days looked like together, what your lives with the Inner Circle looked like.

“Have I been able to convince you to take a day off?” You ask, the two of you eating at your favorite cafe in Velaris. Rhys had encouraged you to explore the city, hopeful it’s constant changing is able to jog something in you.

He smiles at you, chewing his croissant. “Actually, yes.” He says after swallowing. “We actually took a vacation to Summer during this past winter.”

You gasp, your eyes widening in excitement. “I’ve always wanted to go to Summer! How was it? Did we see any mermaids?”

He chuckles, “no, much to your disappointment.”

You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Can’t believe I didn’t get to see a mermaid.”

He smiles at your childish antics, looking at your pouting face. He still couldn’t process it - this was you, but it wasn’t his mate. You weren’t taking a bite of his croissant for yourself, you weren’t touching his knee with yours, you weren’t making up terrible excuses to hold his hand in yours.

Looking at you was excruciating, questions plagueing his mind as he looked. Will you ever remember him? Your life together? The late nights, the early mornings, the small moments that made up your relationship?

Or were you destined to be this past version of yourself forever? Would you develop new habits? Would you even fall in love with him, this version of himself who knows everything about you?

“Did we have a mating ceremony?”

He’s jolted back to the present, his mind finding itself in the past that your mind resides in. He smiles, warmth flooding his heart at the meer mention of that day. He gazes at you, telling you all about it. How all of Velaris loved you so much the town was covered in flowers, much to Cassian’s annoyance.

“I was so nervous, the whole day my hands kept shaking. The minutes before I saw you it got so bad my wings started shaking.”

“Why were you nervous?”

He breathes in deeply, surprised that tidbit came out of his mouth. He had never told you how nervous he had been - he didn’t want you to misconstrue it as reservations about you or your relationship.

He exhales, looking at his empty plate. “Being so vulnerable so publicly, declaring for everyone to know that I am yours and you are mine, felt so… intimidating.”

He grabs a napkin and starts shredding it, an effort to keep his hands occupied to keep them from shaking like they did that day. The shadowsinger rarely showed such nerves, but he always allowed you to see past the cool exterior he usually wore. “I was so scared. No one has ever loved me as openly as you do. My brothers love me, Feyre, Nesta, Mor - they love me. Elain, the Valkyries. All of them love me, but you wear your love on your sleeve. It’s practically on your face.”

He laughs as your hands reach up to your face, as if there was some physical marking there conveying your deep love.

“I’ve never had that. It made me a little scared.”

Without meaning to your hand reaches out to his, halting his napkin shredding. It’s the first time you’ve touched him since you woke up five days ago, and it lights Azriel’s heart aglow. He hadn’t realized how much he had been needing your soothing touch, the one way to know you were here with him.

He doesn’t move, allowing you to process what you’ve done as you see fit. He expects you to pull your hand back, retreating back into yourself as you used to do in the early stages of your relationship.

Your hand stays on his, your eyes meeting his. Your thumb grazes over the scarred skin, as if you could soothe the injury from centuries ago with a delicate touch.

It is quiet between you two, the sounds of the other patrons filling his ears. The soft clinking of spoons on plates, the murmured chatter, the scraping of chairs against the floor.

You’re looking at him like you know him, like you remember it all. He feels his heart in his throat, hoping to hear those words from you. You open your mouth and tell him, “I’m sure I was nervous too.”

The moment is gone, you pull your hand away to stir your coffee once more. Suddenly the patrons are too loud, their conversations too idiotic, the smell of the coffee is overwhelming.

A few days later you wake up to an empty bed in a room you aren’t familiar with. It takes you a moment to remember that you’re in Azriel’s room.

Your room.

The room around you is proof that this wasn’t a dream, despite almost two weeks having passed since your memory was lost. You get up, your nightgown grazing your thighs as you take in the room. You walk in front of the bookshelves, fingers grazing the titles.

Azriel really likes detective novels, you think. You’re continuing through when you find some unmarked books. Opening them, you find your own handwriting back at you.

Entries dated 2 years into your future, 3 years in your past. You’re skimming through the journal, Cassian having done something to annoy you to write several paragraphs until you find a new paragraph.

“Azriel.

Azriel is my mate. My mate. He gave me a locket. We stood on the balcony, just watching the stars. He told me about how the stars led him through the depths of his childhood, and how he would spend most of his nights gazing at the moon, hoping, praying for better days.

“Did you find better days?” I had asked him, and he told me, “I found you, didn’t I?”

You shut the notebook, Azriel’s words invading your sense.

“I found you, didn’t I?”

You hear his voice and are transported back, back to that rooftop, back to that cool night where he laid everything bare for you. That cool night where he draped his wings over you to keep you warm, to keep you wrapped in his arms.

You two spent all night on that roof, talking, making out like two teenagers, staying until the sun began to rose and the citizens of Velaris began waking.

You can smell the scent of cedar and mist, a smell you recognize as Azriel. You can see the slight pink hue dusting his cheeks as you kissed his face, littering his cheeks with dozens of kisses.

It all comes flooding back to you as you drop your journal, racing out of your room. You take the stairs down, searching, needing to hold him.

Him.

Your precious mate.

The male who holds an infinite amount of patience for you.

You see him as you round the corner of the kitchen, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you with a soft oof as your legs wrap around his waist. He holds you there, breathing you in, and you whisper in his ear, “I found you, didn’t I?”

Azriel grip on you tightens, a soft sob escaping him as clutches you, holding you like the world could be collapsing around him and it wouldn’t matter.

“I would have done everything to make you fall in love with me again,” he tells you, kissing your cheeks, his tears mixing with yours.

“And I would have kept falling in love with you.” You grab his face, and kiss him, pouring everything into it and down the bond. He responds with his own love and adoration down the bond, his lips soft and delicate against yours as he does so.

You two hear a groan from the doorway, but don’t pull apart. “We make food in here!” Cassian groans, stepping past you two, “go somewhere else!” He picks up a piece of a cookie and throws it at you, hitting you in the forehead.

You grumble, turning to face him, your eyebrows knitted together and a scowl on your lips. Cassian gasps, “you remember!”

You jump off of Azriel and start running towards Cassian, throwing bits of cookie at him as he runs away, “I remember you telling my mate you wish it was your memories gone so you wouldn’t have to be reminded how annoying I am!”

You chase him around the house, threatening him as you do so, until Azriel reached an arm out, pulling you into his chest, and just holds you there.

[bakubonez]

Snap out of it!

Katsuki Bakugo x oblivious! GN! Reader

Summary thing: Katsuki likes you and apparently you have no idea.

A/N: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Warnings: not proof read cuz I’m lazy, reader doesn’t know Katsuki likes them at all + they convince themselves he doesn’t lol, ambiguous ending, mostly focuses on Katsuki’s POV I think

You were an idiot. But Katsuki liked you regardless.

It was a problem, really. You’d weaseled your way into Katsuki’s group of friends, instantly charming everyone. He’d been more difficult to please, though. You’d been okay with it—you knew he’d come around eventually.

Which he did. Problem was, he’d come around and he’d fallen head over heels for you. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue, he could’ve just confessed or flirted with you.

Katsuki had decided to go with the method of dropping hints and flirting rather than straight up confessing to you. He wanted to test the waters first. There was no doubt in his mind that you’d like him; he’d seen the glances when you thought he wouldn’t notice, the little touches, your faint smile when he joined whatever you and his other friends were doing that day(after some pressure from Eijiro!). He knew there was no way it could possibly go wrong.

Little did he know, you were oblivious to his advances.

You constantly brushed his teasing remarks and flattery off as him being nice, not interested in jumping to the conclusion of him reciprocating your feelings in case you were wrong. You didn’t want to get your hopes up and your feelings hurt. So you ignored what he was doing, always somehow convincing yourself that the increase in your heart rate and the heat burning your skin when he made his stupid jokes and such was simply a trick of the mind. He didn’t like you. You just had to accept that fact and get on with it.

It was infuriating to Katsuki, though. Maybe infuriating isn’t the right word, he couldn’t seem to bring himself to be truly angered by you any more. Frustrating. There it was. You were unbelievably frustrating.

He adored you. Ever since the realisation of his feelings had dawned on him, he hadn’t been able to scrub any corner of his mind of you. You always lingered there. When he got bored in class he’d think of you, zoning out while the teacher at the front went on and on about something that clearly wasn’t anywhere near as relevant as you. He’d stumble across videos online that made him think of you, that made him think, ‘you’d like this’. Some of them would make it to you, but sometimes he’d already sent so many of them that day that he needed to save it to a little folder dedicated to you, to keep for when he needed an excuse to message you.

Katsuki hadn’t come to UA with the intention of making friends. But he had. And now he was on the complete other side of his initial promise—chasing not only a friend, but a romantic connection.

And so, the days went on where he’d shoot his shot and miss. He’d miss because you kept interfering. You kept brushing it off.

Eventually he resorted to telling Eijiro, whining and complaining to you about how stubborn and irritating you were right now, but also how much he’d come to treasure you. You’d become precious to him, nestled in your own little place in his heart. He was having a hard time trying to get over you. Maybe it was because he really didn’t want to.

At the end of the day, despite how much he complained about your oblivious nature, he couldn’t bring himself to scrap the future he’d carefully carved out in his mind for the two of you. Katsuki wanted those sweet, domestic moments that he would’ve ignored with anyone else but you. He wanted the less sweet ones, arguments and results of villain battles. All of it. He wanted all of it. He wanted all of you.

It didn’t matter to him what you thought a partner wouldn’t like in you. To him, there was nothing to dislike. The curve of your nose, the colour of your eyes, the texture of your skin, your laugh. Even the parts of you that you tried to hide, he loved all of it. He couldn’t imagine a time where he didn’t.

For now, though, he had to wait patiently for you to catch on, or for his self control to slip from him. He had to tell you the truth one day. You’d snap out of it.

Katsuki hoped it wouldn’t be too late by the time he did.

[flawseer]

#18 - "Fire"

Smaugust 2024

The last few submissions have been mostly visual, but today I want to do something more text-based. I'm always looking for opportunities to ramble ad nauseam about my headcanons and thoughts, but am usually hesitant if I don't think I can make a subject interesting or particularly insightful.

A few months back I was playing with the thought of publishing a speculative analysis on Pyrrhian dragon breath weapons, and how they might differ between tribes. I got up to the conceptualization stage, but then @sidyashchiy-na-plakhe came out with a better and more put-together version of what I was thinking about and touched on some similar points, so I filed those plans away to not step on any toes. If you're enjoying this type of deliberation, I recommend that you check out his take, as it is very thoughtfully put together with some cool visuals.

But, seeing as I have no other ideas for this prompt, and since it's been a while since then, I'm going to air out my scrapped draft here. I guess this is a mixture between canon information and headcanons, with a bias toward the latter.

General Information

Each of the seven Pyrrhian tribes is capable of using a kind of orally-discharged means of attack. For the purpose of this deliberation, I am going to refer to all of these as "breath weapons", even though not all of them are activated via exhalation. It will make things easier to talk about.

There are three general factors to each type of breath weapon, those being potency, range, and start-up time. In the case of fire breath--the most ubiquitous type of breath weapon on the continent--these would roughly correlate to the temperature of the flames, how far they can travel from the source while maintaining their shape and intensity, and for how long the fire must be stoked inside of the user before it can be expelled.

How developed these factors are differs for every dragon, but the two biggest determining modifiers are constitution and age. Being physically fit will make your breath weapon more efficient--and thus stronger--because you have better control over your breathing after exertion. As a dragon advances in age, the three factors all increase proportionally. A Mudwing hatchling can produce a puff of flame very quickly, but it will barely heat up the surrounding air. An elder meanwhile might take several minutes to get their fire going, but when they do, the result will be fearsome and devastating.

Fire is the most common element on the continent, with four of the seven tribes being able to command it. I will go through those first and then follow up with the other variants .

Nightwing fire is a dark purple in color, due to a slight variation in the gas component that fuels the flames.

The flames have no particularly outstanding properties strength-wise, but they emit comparatively little light, meaning they don't stand out as much against the night sky. This makes them ideal for low-profile ambushing, but very unsuitable as signal flares.

If a Nightwing ignites an object, the flames will gradually lose this characteristic as they will begin to consume the air around them and turn into ordinary, orange fire.

Nightwing flames are sometimes colloquially referred to as "Moonfire".

Sandwing fire is, on average, the least powerful among all the fire-breathing dragons. In terms of potency and range, flames emitted by a Sandwing of 20 years will be roughly equivalent to those of a twelve-year-old from the other fire-breathing tribes.

Their unique advantage is that Sandwings can produce these flames extremely quickly, usually within seconds. If readying fire takes a dragon 30 seconds, an equivalent Sandwing can do it in 5.

While for most other dragons the use of their breath weapon is a deliberate and calculated affair, the severely reduced start-up time allows Sandwings to "shoot from the hip" without having to commit to the action, making them less predictable in combat.

A popular Sandwing combat technique is to open a fight by blowing a quick plume of weak fire into an opponent's face and then using the resulting distraction to strike with their venomous tails.

Skywings command the strongest and purest variation of fire among all tribes. Their flames come out very straight and can maintain their shape over vast distances.

They can "cook" their fire by holding it inside themselves for longer than necessary. While this becomes unpleasant or even painful if done for long, it will increase the temperature and purity of the resulting flames far beyond what any of the other tribes are capable of.

Flames emitted after doing this for long enough will come out with an intense blue color that can cut through stone.

For dragons afflicted with firescales, all of the fire they breathe will be like this, as their bodies are already channeling flames at all times to fuel the burning scales.

Because Skywing fire is so intense, it is at times difficult to control. Skywings who become emotional will often start smoking from their nostrils involuntarily.

Mudwing fire, sometimes referred to as "moody fire", is very temperamental. Its strength will vary widely based on a number of different factors, not all of them fully understood, making it appear random at times.

The most commonly understood factor that influences a Mudwing's fire is the ambient temperature. Mudwings will struggle to produce flames in environments that are too cold (close to freezing weather, very cold water, etc.). This can be partially mitigated by ingesting hot stews, soups, or beverages before fire usage.

A factor that isn't as well documented is that the Mudwing's fire breath and their uncanny healing factor are fueled by the same source. This means a Mudwing's fire will be strongest when they are healthy, and begin to diminish if they become injured, as their body will divert resources away from the breath weapon to prioritize keeping itself alive, functioning, and mobile.

Mudwings hatched from blood eggs have a tendency to develop poor breath weapons, as their super-charged healing factor--while potent enough to outpace most damage sustained from fire--is even more resource-hungry than that of a regular Mudwing.

Icewings don't breathe fire. Instead, they are able to exhale a stream of frost magic. There is nothing I can think of to scientifically explain all the properties of frostbreath as they are presented in canon, especially with regards to Queen Battlewinner. Ice that makes you lava-proof? Nah, this is straight-up magic. All Icewings are born with a small piece of magic and this is how it expresses itself.

Contrary to popular belief, frostbreath is not stronger than firebreath. In terms of general characteristics, Icewings and Nightwings are actually roughly equivalent.

What makes frostbreath more overtly lethal than fire breath is the magical component. When frostbreath comes in contact with living tissue, it will form ice crystals on and inside the surface. All flesh in contact with these crystals will gradually turn necrotic. This process is very painful.

The crystals are very persistent and it requires sustained exposure to intense heat to melt them. The best way to accomplish this is via prolonged bath in warm water (close to boiling). This method, if applied quickly after the injury, will usually result in recovery after a few hours of bathing.

Getting hit while in a situation with no access to warm water is very dangerous and potentially lethal. If treatment does not begin soon after, the crystals will begin to spread, killing more tissue and making recovery increasingly less likely, especially once the injury spreads to internal organs.

It is not uncommon for soldiers who get hit by frost breath and are caught out in the open with no treatment options to cut off the afflicted body part to minimize tissue loss.

Icewings are more resistant to frostbreath than other dragons, but not fully immune. They can succumb to the same injuries.

If an Icewing suffers an intense burn, particularly in and around the face, they become completely unable to exhale frost until the burn begins to heal.

Rainwings do not have a breath weapon. Instead, they produce an acidic venom within their bodies, which can be administered through biting, or launched at targets through a pair of collapsible, hollow fangs.

The gland that produces this venom needs sunlight to develop properly. Once the Rainwing has been exposed to sufficient sunlight, venom production will begin, and may even continue without further exposure, but it is recommended to sunbathe for at least 5 hours a week to keep the gland healthy and the venom potent.

The venom is strongly corrosive and able to dissolve most organic materials like wood, plant matter, and flesh. It is potent enough that, if it enters another creature's blood stream directly (via bite, an open wound, or the eyes), that creature will die within seconds.

The venom's lethality will rapidly decrease once it separates from the user. If it hits surface tissue and has to burn through layers flesh, it will usually lose too much of its toxicity before it reaches the blood stream (though it will still function as acid and be excruciatingly painful).

Rainwings are immune to their own venom, but not the venom of other Rainwings. Mixing a sample of venom with the venom of a close blood relative will cancel out the destructive properties of both.

Seawings are amphibious dragons who prefer to live in water, but can also go on land and exist there in relative comfort for a decent while. Their body contains an organ that stores water, from which it periodically draws to keep the Seawing's skin from drying out.

When under duress, a Seawing can forcefully expel the contents of this organ through their mouth as a pressurized jet of water. While this is not very destructive, it can momentarily stun aggressors and allow the Seawing to retreat to the safety of a nearby lake or river.

If the blast is held inside and charged up similar to the fire breath of other tribes, the Seawing is able to draw from their body heat to increase the water's temperature to scalding degrees.

[l0stglitch]

Platonic yandere lost boys headcannons

Notes- This was supposed to be general headcannons but then I started leaning into the darker side of the dynamics more, so now it’s more focused on the relationships between reader and the boys.

Warnings- Emotional manipulation, Psychosis, Non consensual drug use, Yandere behaviour, Murder

Dwayne

• You mean the absolute world to Dwayne.

• Seriously- every waking thought is spent on you. You’re like a drug that he can’t function without.

• Sometimes the others joke that he has separation anxiety (he 100% does).

• He loves listening to you speak. Often you’ll both lie down on your bed and stare up at the ceiling. You’ll tell him about your day through the rose-tinted lenses of childhood, and he’ll listen. He listens with an interest that you have never been regarded with before. It makes you feel special.

• The two of you go down to the skatepark together every now and again and your dad teaches you how to skate.

• You’d never tell the others, but those are your favourite nights. When it’s just you and Dwayne out at night practicing tricks under the solitary streetlight.

• It’s usually empty, but when there is anyone else there Dwayne warns you of how dangerous they could be.

• He doesn’t mean to scare you, but sometimes the only way you’ll follow the rules is by telling you every other man out there is out to get you.

• His warnings made you paranoid and untrusting of everyone for a while.

• It eventually got so bad that you had a psychotic episode- locking yourself in your room for days because you believed that your fathers wanted to harm you.

• Eventually they broke down your door to find you starving and severely dehydrated, having spent days completely devoid of food and water.

• You were too weak to even fight back when they scooped you up and carried you out your room.

• Dwayne was in hysterics.

• He didn’t leave your side for the rest of the week, and made sure to hand feed you all your meals.

• You protested, but he was relentless.

• He almost made you feel like it was your fault. Acting so hurt that you would take such little care for yourself. Do you really hate them that much? Why don’t you trust them after everything they’ve done for you?

• Days later, you found yourself crying in his arms, begging for forgiveness. Through desperate sobs you sputtered out apology after apology, clinging to his leather jacket.

• Seeing you so needy for him- so desperate for his love almost made it all worth it.

• He just ran his fingers through your hair like you were a scared animal, trying to get you to calm down.

• That’s how disputes between you and your father almost always end. With you begging for his forgiveness for something you know deep down wasn’t your fault.

• After your breakdowns, you often sit alone in your room wondering how you let the same thing happen every time. You’ve always had a soft spot for Dwayne, but sometimes you wonder if his powers have more uses than you thought.

• All those times you’ve awoken from a horrifyingly realistic nightmare, or felt a piercing sense of dread at the thought of sneaking out, a tiny fear itches in the back of your brain.

• Are your thoughts actually yours?

Marko

• Marko 100% plays with you the most.

• He’s just naturally more energetic than the others (which often leads him to getting into fights).

• But when he’s not scrapping with surf nazis, he spends the rest of his time practically worshipping you.

• Sometimes when it’s just the two of you, you’ll stop by a playground to play for a bit.

• He’d never admit it to anyone, but sometimes he gets jealous seeing you play with the kids there.

• I feel like Marko is a very creative person (I mean cmon look at his jacket). One of my personal hcs is that he painted the leopard on Dwayne’s jacket.

• He’d definitely buy (or steal) a jacket for you just so he can customise it. He also sees it as a way of showing that you belong to them.

• You’d sit next to him on the couch, sketching out every little detail you want whilst he listens, hanging onto your every word.

• Despite his need to show everyone you are theirs, he also genuinely loves making things for you.

• He made a bracelet for you to match the one Dwayne stole when you first met.

• Out of everyone he’s the most possessive.

• Sometimes, depending on his mood, he’ll ban you from speaking to anyone other than them (even Max). Other times he’ll outright stop you from going to the boardwalk with them. He’d stay with you in the cave whilst the other three go out to hunt.

• It worked when you were younger and more obedient, however during your teen years you grew to be a lot more rebellious.

• Marko absolutely HATES the thought of you growing up. He doesn’t know what kind of a person you’ll be in the future, and that scares him.

• That and the fact that he knows you’ll inevitably want to start dating.

• He’s kind of in denial about the whole growing up thing.

• Unfortunately when you do become a teenager he literally can’t cope. He refuses to believe you are able to take care of yourself and will baby you.

• On multiple occasions you have lashed out at him for the way he treats you, sick of how he refuses to accept the fact that you have a functional brain and can think for yourself.

• Unfortunately Marko has a particularly short temper. He has, on multiple occasions, accidentally shoved you into a cabinet in the heat of an argument, and left you with dark, angry bruises.

• And then comes the guilt tripping. Sometimes you’d wonder if he secretly likes it when you get hurt because of how happy he always looks when he gets to take care of you.

• You’re father’s mood can switch up in a matter of seconds. Sometimes it feels like you’re walking on eggshells around him, afraid that the slightest mistake will set him off.

• Usually Dwayne or Paul are around to tell him to chill out, but when you’re alone you just have to play along with his delusions of you still being his little girl to avoid conflict.

• It’s hard though, especially when he suddenly brings up a new rule to ‘keep you safe’. It’s practically impossible to keep Marko happy, and with every new rule, you know it’s only a matter of time until you break it (intentionally or not).

• He would never admit it, even to himself, but part of him secretly enjoys it when you break the rules. He likes hearing your heart pounding loudly from your chest, betraying the unbothered scowl on your face.

• It reminds him that no matter how grown up you look on the outside, you’ll always just be that timid little girl they found by the carousel. Helpless and in need of her fathers.

Paul

• He doesn’t mean to be, but Paul is definitely the dad that lets you get away with anything.

• Poor guy doesn’t really know how to act around kids, so he ends up either being a bit awkward around you or just treating you like a mini adult.

• As a result, you don’t really fear him as much as you do the others, but you also don’t see him as reliable as they are.

• You know Dwayne will always be there for you. Paul though? Half the time he’s too high to even tell you what day of the week it is.

• He feels guilty about it. Really guilty. He loves you just as much as the others do, but he just doesn’t know how to show it, so he lets you get away with things.

• Oh- you want a chocolate bar for breakfast? Sure, so long as you don’t tell Dwayne.

• You wanna try his cigarette? Ok, but make sure David doesn’t find out.

• At first it’s great. You love getting to hang out with Paul because of the little secrets you share. He gets high and you get to do what you want.

• It isn’t until you start to grow up, and he begins to enjoy your company more that his behaviour starts changing.

• Out of everyone, Paul (ironically) knows the most of your secrets.

• He’s just so much easier to talk to than the others- and whilst he doesn’t always give you particularly good advice on how to deal with certain situations, you can appreciate him for listening.

• Your trust in him backfires though, as he realises he can use your secrets against you.

• He literally blackmails you into spending more time with him. You don’t wanna hang out? That’s fine- but be prepared to have a stern telling off from David after Paul found a bag of weed under your bed.

• You picked up most of your bad habits from your father. Getting black out drunk and stealing cigarettes with your small group of friends, for example.

• Compared to the others, he isn’t very controlling in terms of rules. He knows that telling you what to do directly will only make you rebel, so instead he takes a slightly different approach.

• He drugs you.

• It took years for you to finally realise why you would sometimes sleep for such long amounts of time, despite not feeling tired beforehand.

• Eventually you connected the dots, and came to the sickening realisation that he would put crushed sleeping pills in your food every time you mentioned wanting to go out with your friends.

• After confronting your fathers about it, you refused to eat any food they had prepared for you. This lasted a while, until you ran out of money and were no longer able to afford cheap takeaways.

• It becomes a lot harder for Paul to drug you after that, however every now and again he manages to slip you a sedative.

• You absolutely hate it.

• You hate feeling completely helpless. Mind dull and emotions muffled by the effects of the drug. Even your body feels heavy, and you find that you only have enough energy to lay in Paul’s embrace, waiting to fall asleep.

David

• Ok let’s be real David is definitely the most distant father out everyone.

• After all, he has a reputation to uphold (and he’s scared of completely fucking up as a dad).

• He prefers spending time with you inside the cave rather than going out to the boardwalk.

• He uses excuses similar to Dwayne- telling you how dangerous it is, but unlike Dwayne he doesn’t actually believe what he’s telling you.

• David knows that it’s very unlikely that anything will happen to you. You’re hardly ever by yourself, so the chances of someone actually managing to hurt you are slim- especially with four overprotective vampire fathers lurking nearby.

• The real reason is that it makes him feel less in control. He can’t decide who you’re friends with, or who talks to you when you do occasionally manage to sneak away from them.

• Your biological family is gone. But who’s to say there isn’t someone out there looking for you still? David can’t help the everlasting paranoia from seeping into his every thought.

• So for peace of mind, he sets rules and curfews. Anything that will ease his worries.

• Practically every minute of your life is dictated by David. He thrives off of controlling you.

• Each and every rule and punishment goes through him first. He’s essentially the backbone of the pack.

• You resent him for it. You hate the way he encourages the others, and how he speaks down at you so condescendingly.

• Your relationship wasn’t always so strained though.

• As a kid you completely idolised David. His hair, his bike, his music. You were like his shadow. Constantly trailing behind him, grasping onto his signature trench coat.

• He loved every minute of it. Your father would spoil you. He’d steal little gifts at every opportunity, and buy you posters and t shirts of all the bands he had gotten you into.

• Unfortunately, as you got older you made friends outside the pack. You developed new interests, and David felt threatened.

• After all, you’re supposed to their little girl. You were supposed to grow up and stay with your fathers- your pack. Not branch out and meet new people.

• So in response, David killed one of your friends.

• One of the boys in your group who he thought you were becoming dangerously close to.

• Of course, you didn’t know David was the reason he had gone missing, so when you broke down in tears, feeling terrified for your friend, David was there to hold you.

• The way he gently rubbed your back and soothingly whispered into your ear almost made you forget about the disappearance of one of your closest friends.

• That brief moment of bliss bringing you back to your childhood as you sought comfort in your father’s tender embrace.

• David could only pray that you would remain ignorant to the truth about your dearly departed friend.

Tag list- @bella-goths-wife (lmk if anyone else wants to be added)

[flightofthejackdaw]

I just want to say how much I adore the women of One Piece, not just on a ‘holy moly these women are beautiful’ but also on ‘holy moly these women are so well written’

I love how many layers the lady’s have, even those who are not part of the main cast

Nami acting as the brains of the crew, but always being up to scrap with the boys and put them in their place, her fear of trusting and being betrayed being a core aspect of her character. WCI and Wano are pretty recent examples of this, with her anger at Sanji, and her belief in Luffy. I love how confident she is in her self, and how she is a little evil sometimes she’ll use everything at her disposal to get what she wants. How she knows that she’s needed on the crew and without her they would’ve all drowned along ago, and she’s beautiful and cute and she knows this. I hate people thinking that she’s less of a character post timeskip just because of her appearance, she’s so much more than that

Vivi’s love of her people and her country, her worrying nature and her desire for adventure despite her position. Her care for the crew despite the small amount of time she knew them. Also how she’s basically the main character of Alabasta, and how she’s the one saving her country

Robin going from someone who was always looking over her shoulder, always running and never having a real place to call home. To someone who knows she has a family who loves her and will protect her no matter what, and she can be her strange morbid self without judgement (other than from Usopp)

Viola and Rebecca, two ladies forced into a living hell under Dolfamingo. One humiliated by her own people and forced to fight for her life when at heart she just wanted peace, and the other whose soul was almost broken by Doffy but chose to fight against him even if she knew she wouldn’t win. Viola going to stab Doffy even if she knew she would fail shows her strength as she stood up against him even if it could’ve meant death because she wanted to do what she could

And there are so many others that are just as amazing:

- Big Mom: a major villain with a twisted idea of family and love. One of the most powerful pirates in the sea, all this strength but she’s still just someone that was abandoned by the world and became obsessed with filling that void

- Pudding: a woman twisted by the abuse she suffered hating herself and lashing out at others in turn. And how that persona comes crashing down when showed only a bit of kindness

- Boa: the strong powerful empress, who is deeply scarred and can’t show any weakness to her people. And just wants to be loved by someone who sees more than her beauty

-Reiju: the older sister that had to go along with her little brothers abuse, and helped when she could. But only when she couldn’t be the target, she’s flawed and distant but she loves her brother

- Bonny: a literal child who braved the seas to save her father and became one of the most wanted pirates of her generation in under two years, scrappy and tomboyish with a soft heart for her dad

These ladies are living breathing characters! And there are some many others that are just the same, they are all so well developed and different from each other in character. And none of them are just there to be, ‘the girl in the group’ or the ‘love interest’ (though Boa likes Luffy and Pudding likes Sanji neither are their main character traits and have story reasons for being in love)

I love them so much

I love women

A certified girl kisser wrote this at like 1 am

[dduane]

hello mrs. duane, i've been following you for a while, but i just wanted to say that the young wizards series is one of my favorite series of novels that i've ever read and has a huge impact on how i write my own stories and worlds, so thank you for creating them. my absolute favorite detail about how the YW series works though is the nature of the ordeal and how that informs the dynamic between wizards and the lone power. the whole system of "a young wizard is given an ordeal because they'd be the best suited to take on the lone power for this particular problem" is really cool and interesting, but i absolutely love how the way it's handled means that the lone power basically has Personal Beef with every single wizard in the universe. something about how the lone power is always like "oh fuck, not these two again" every time it sees that nita and kit are involved in foiling another one of its plans is so funny to me, especially how absolutely sick of their shit it was in wizards' holiday when it was asking for kit and nita's help. it's just such a fascinating and entertaining dynamic and adds so much to the lone power's character as an antagonist. i just wanted to tell you how much i enjoy it.

I'm glad all that works for you. :)

If I have a recurring preference for my bad guys—Big Bad or otherwise—it's that they need to have sound reasons for engaging with their antagonists/victims/whatever, and not just be flailing around aimlessly looking for ways to be Eeeeevil and make unfocused trouble. They should also, ideally, routinely see themselves as being in the right: and in some cases, the injured parties. (One model for this attitude I got from Le Guin—that line in The Left Hand Of Darkness where the King asks some poor functionary light years away, by ansible, "What makes a man a traitor?" and the answer comes back "I do not know... No man considers himself a traitor: this makes it hard to find out.")

The Lone Power is therefore well in this mold. It would probably (in the first instance, anyway) have had no trouble with engaging with Creation had Its colleagues not insisted on disagreeing with It regarding its uniquely annoying invention, Entropy. Instead, though, they took the undignified and inelegant approach of not only siding with physical Creation against It, but unilaterally enforcing this attitude by (the hyperdimensional version of) brute force!—surely the last refuge of those with no really solid argument on their side.

So It's left stuck in profound disdain for the Creation all its peers are defending, and yet is forced (again and again) to descend into that creation, into the icky mucky morass of gross physical embodiment, to try to demonstrate to the other Powers and their deluded minions how wrong they are about the value of Life. And yes, absolutely, It has serious beef with every single damn scrap of living matter that has the absolute gall to be alive in Its despite. The more sentient, the more beef.

And the more sentient those chunks of Life prove themselves by repeatedly getting in the Lone One's face, the more galled It gets by them. Especially the ones who have the absolute cheek to claim to be doing it on purpose, because they seem to think they have some right to have beef with It! It's like being dissed by bugs. Infuriating! Makes It want to stomp on them all the harder.

Needless to say, the "bugs" have their own take on this. :) (Which just pisses It off worse.) And that a being that's come to disdain sentience itself as wasted on the lower orders winds up spending so much of Its own sentience on attempting to punish such lesser beings... well, the irony's almost certainly inescapable, sometimes, even for that One, so very invested in being Right. Viewed from a vantage point closer to the Heart of things, you could almost feel sorry for It. And in some moods, you'd be tempted to laugh at It... which naturally It pretty much hates more than anything else.

Eventually, of course, the goal (whispered here and there in Timeheart) is that It will discover being Right is of less value in the long run than it originally believed: that what matters is correcting the error—if it can be corrected—and starting over. What that will look like, for the time being wizards can do no more than speculate.

Meanwhile, they continue to take things personally. Earning the Lone One's very personal enmity, and indeed doing it repeatedly, isn't at all safe. But in some moods, it can be really, really fun... which (both in those moods, and out of them) is what makes Nita and Kit and their colleagues so dangerous. :)

[seraphinitegames]

The Wayhaven Chronicles - Update 26/Jan/2024

I did something this week I don’t normally do: I rewrote Adam/Ava’s scene as I was writing it.

Normally, when I do rewrites, I will keep going with the scene I’m on and then decide afterwards. It’s surprising how things change once the whole scene is written! But something just wasn’t quite right with how I wanted their opening to be.

It didn’t match with the ‘vibe’ I wanted for the love interest openings.

Book Four starts out with quite the punch, which I always love doing with getting straight into some action and drama, hehe! :D

But unlike Book Three where it continued on with drama for a bit, I wanted to slow things down. Have a chance to spend some time with the love interest properly, especially as Book Four is pretty darn intense!

And A’s just felt too…drama, lol!

Obviously, this is A’s scene, so some drama and angst is always expected, but their romance might not be what people expect in Book Four considering the ending to it in Book Three.

A’s romance is the most emotional rollercoaster romance of the lot. Up and down, down and up! And there may just be more up in this book than down…before the plummet that may just come in the oft-talked about major angsty painful Book Five, hehe! ;D

So yeah, it just wasn’t working, so I made the decision to scrap it and redo it long before I would normally. And it was SO the right decision! Now things are flowing waaaay better, and it feels more like how the others scenes will with the love interests.

Sometimes, you have to take the pain of deleting a whole bunch just to make it shine brighter…something I know but that always makes me wince as a creator, especially after days of working on scenes!

Hope you all the most amazing weekend! We’ll be offline as usual, so I’ll update you all again next Friday! <3

[ghostaholics]

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐍 '𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓' 𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

➸ PAIRING: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x fem!Reader; 18+ only ➸ BANNER CREDIT: cafekitsune ➸ OTHER GHOST NSFW HEADCANONS: here & here

➸ BLINDFOLDING: obligatory, a deal-breaker especially early on in the relationship; lots of things he has planned for you that involves his mouth, and while he could pull up his mask as far as he needs to, just have the hem of it resting on the bridge of his nose, sometimes he prefers to do away with it all so as not to become an obstacle that's impeding on his fun – hence, a blindfold (maybe a spare military scarf that he's got lying around or any other scrap of fabric that'll suffice) to block out the visual of his face – the temporary deprivation of sight has your other senses heightened, with tactile being the most obvious as you become extremely responsive to his touch when you’re not sure what to anticipate next (❝ Should tie you up too, tease you 'til you can’t stand it anymore. How’s that sound, sweetheart? ❞)

➸ RECEIVING HEAD: likes it almost as much as giving; will never turn it down when the opportunity presents itself

(1) deepthroating - you need the practice since you couldn't get it all the first time he fed you his cock, couldn't quite accommodate the girth of him no matter how hard you tried that night; so, you've been working up to it, finally able to get your mouth full, throat fucked, just your wet heat encasing him and he can't help but apply light pressure, palming the back of your head to push you down on his dick and letting out a guttural groan whenever you occasionally gag while taking him down to the base (❝ Breathe through your nose, love. Choking on my cock like this... fuckin' hell. Don't go hurtin' yourself now.❞)

(2) when he's sitting with his legs spread wide, you kneeling in between them and looking up at him through your lashes - doesn't rush you, tells you to slow down in fact, so he can enjoy the sight of your lips wrapped around his dick for longer, how you're so enthusiastic about making him feel good - about cock-worshipping - practically drunk alone on the pleasure of sucking him off as if this might be more for your benefit than it is for his; you start working him with your mouth - gently licking at the seam of the sensitive head and lapping up the prespend there because you're a good girl for cleaning up the clear and sticky mess gathering around his slit before pressing a kiss to the blunt tip, or when your tongue runs wet along the length of him before trying to swallow him down your throat (❝ So good to me... love this almost more than that pretty pussy of yours. C'mere, sweetheart. Gonna return the favor and spoil that li’l cunt with my mouth. ❞)

➸ PARTIALLY-CLOTHED SEX: can be impatient when he’s in a rush, certainly has little to no tolerance for undressing you or himself for a shag somewhere inconvenient (it’s called a quickie for a reason but he’s only interested when there’s a high probability that you’re already wet before he’s even laid a finger on you, e.g. eye-fucking him across the room for the last hour while lightly chewing on the tip of your pen and dragging it across your bottom lip before pausing at the corner of your mouth, or verbal foreplay throughout the day where you’ve been dropping dirty comments about how you much you’ve been thinking about him just slowly rubbing at the entrance of your cunt, having him fill you up with his fingers or his cock); honestly doesn’t want to waste time sliding into you after all of that – the most he’ll otherwise do is ruck your shirt over your chest to paw at your tits, knead at the flesh and pinch/roll your nipples between his fingers while pounding into you from behind (❝ Move these panties to the side before I rip ‘em off you. Really don’t think you should’ve been bloody wearin’ any in the first place. ❞)

➸ SQUIRTING: riding him, leaning back slightly with one of your hands grasping at his muscular thigh to stay upright – and the view drives him crazy, how you’re bouncing, fucking yourself down on him over and over, along with these desperate little rolls of your hips; you’re doing so good for him that he makes the executive decision to assume control now, thrusts up into your aching hole, bruising – almost punishing, but he can’t stop when he’s got you moaning even louder now and gasps spill from your mouth when you take him to the root – cockhead brushing against the front of your cunt at this angle every time he drives inside you (❝ Right there, huh? That the spot? Fuckin' know from how goddamn wet you're gettin' me— ❞) and he keeps going until you start coming hard then, soaking his cock so bad that the fresh rush of slick pools across his thighs, leaks down his balls (❝ Christ, got you gushin’ all over me. Let's see it again, c’mon. ❞)

➸ DEGRADATION KINK: light on the insults, doesn’t necessarily mean it in a literal sense but knows that they have their time and place during sex; he equates them to something affectionate – prefers to use the ones that possess a more positive connotation in lieu of/alongside praise based on the situation and really enjoys how your cunt involuntarily clenches upon hearing that sort of stuff

❝ Yeah, can feel this cunt pulsin’ around my cock. Such a cute li’l fucktoy – jus’ can’t help it, can you? Need you to stay still for me, though. ❞ (e.g. cock warming)

❝ Taking me so well… being so good, aren't you? Careful love, don’t want ‘em hearing how loud you are; they might get the wrong idea about you, moanin’ like a whore and all that. ❞

❝ Where’s my dirty girl want me to finish? Inside, is that it? Fuckin’ Christ you’re a naughty one, sweetheart, lettin’ me fill up this cunt. Greedy for it, like a bitch in heat— ❞

❝ I know you’re more than a cumslut, love. But you beg me to fuck you stupid, damn near let me abuse every single one of these holes of yours, and—c'mon, you see why I might have a hard time believin’ myself, right?”

➸ HAIR-PULLING: if he finds out you're into it, then he’s very much in favor of grabbing a handful of your hair, fingers spanning over your scalp and slightly tugging so that he tips your chin up – not enough to hurt; usually only does it when he’s trying to get you to look at something (bent over the sink, and you need to look at your reflection, don’t want to miss that, of course) or he just wants something to grab onto (when you’re on your knees while he’s face-fucking you, gotta make sure you maintain eye contact); accidentally discovers you share this kink when his intention is to give you a low warning for teasing him, bringing your ear close so you can hear him properly without him having to raise his voice but you just end up letting out a soft moan in response

(1) if your hair's long enough - he likes wrapping a ponytail around his hand, and will appreciate a nice plait, but he's not choosy

[linkemon]

I won't say I'm in love (Shroud Idia x Reader)

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi. You can also check out my commissions if you’re interested.

Other oneshots can be found here.

ɪᴅɪᴀ ᴛʀɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇᴀʟ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛᴀʙʟᴇ ꜰᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏʀɪɢɪɴᴀʟ ᴍᴇɢᴀʀᴀ ꜰʀᴏᴍ ʜᴇʀᴄᴜʟᴇꜱ. ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀʏ, ʜᴇ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴏᴛᴏᴍᴇ, ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟᴀɪɴ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʀᴘɢꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ᴡʜʏ ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ꜱᴏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴀᴄᴄᴇᴘᴛ ɪᴛ.

— Ortho, can you repeat that again? — Idia blinked rapidly.  

He stared at his brother as if he had suddenly sprouted three heads. In the darkness, illuminated only by the light falling from the screen, he had the impression that the dark, robotic silhouette had turned into Cerberus. A huge dog standing guard in the doorway. He would love to cross to the other side of this imaginary Styx but he couldn't. Such betrayal? His own brother stabbing him in the back?  

— Bro, you don't have to be so dramatic…— Ortho shook his head. — I invited [Reader] because you haven't seen each other for a long time and...  

— And you don't see any problem? You're a huge red flag for doing this behind my back. —The older brother hugged the pillow. The huge dakimakura seemed to help him shut out the world.  

The youngest Shroud turned on the light. The glow of LED bulbs seemed to peer into every corner. It was looking for colourful wrappers from sweets imported from abroad. It skimmed over every screw and scrap of metal from failed projects. It even discovered piles of comic books mixed with records falling out of their packaging. The room was a mess. Ortho was aware of this. However, he stated that it was not worth turning the knife in the wound. He did not comment on the state of affairs. Instead, he turned on the quick cleaning mode. Idia joined him reluctantly. Silently, with a suffering face, he threw the garbage into a large bag.  

Ortho wondered what exactly he had done wrong. According to his information, [Reader] and Idia did not have a quarrel. On the contrary. Since everyone had returned from S.T.Y.X. HQ, he felt like his brother had finally made some friends. People he likes spending time with. They played games together and sometimes he even let them take him outside, which was a big success in itself. The prefect didn't mind his enthusiasm for fantasy. She seemed happy to learn about the media that reigns supreme in Twisted Wonderland. She hadn't had much opportunity to explore this side of the world, so Shroud was quietly happy to introduce the, as he put it, noob to the most important corners of Internet.  

The contact ended quite suddenly. Ortho didn't need special programs to notice that something was wrong. He asked [Reader] directly but she said that Idia was apparently very busy with a new project. He would have believed it if he hadn't lived with him. How busy can you be watching the same old Premo concert for the thirty-third time in two weeks? His brother looked like he couldn't find a place in his own beloved room and didn't want to say what was going on. So Ortho did what he always did — he pushed him. The invitation was the first step. What he will do with this fact will be his initiative alone. With that thought he left the room.  

There was a faint knocking sound through the metal door. Idia felt like he had just had a heart attack. He had a choice:  

a) pretend he's not there (20% effective, most people on campus knew it wasn't true because he used this attack too often)  

b) say that he is sick (an even worse plan, because someone will definitely take him to the hygienist)  

c) ask [Reader] to go away (a tragic choice in RPGs that causes you to lose a companion; if she hasn't hated him by now, she definitely will after this option)  

d) open the door like a civilized person his parents tried to raise him to be (he will be given the fearful status but will gain +10 courage)  

He decided on the last option and, taking a deep breath, opened the door.  

— Hi! — [Reader] immediately went to her usual place on the huge pouffe. She fell on it like a giant starfish from the Octavinelle aquarium.  

The boy expected anything. Or at least reproaches. He didn't fully understand himself. Was he such a good liar? NO. He wasn't stupid. He knew his capabilities. He was never great at this. Unless we're talking about framing someone from the opposing team in games but that's not the case. Maybe he was annoyed that she didn't miss him as much as he missed her...  

— I brought us a new game. Cater recently mentioned that his sisters had some to give away because they were bored of them, so I took all they had.  

— What do you have there? — he risked a safe question.  

The girl handed him a colourful package. He guessed that the record was second-hand. The colourful cover looked like it had seen better days. However, after seeing a crowd of pretty 2D men, he guessed what genre he was dealing with. Visual novel. And not just any kind. In his hands he held an otome…  

— Reincarnated in a fantasy world with six princes after being run over by a carriage... Okay, this title is so long it doesn't even fit on the cover. Meet them all: rules-loving, wild, THIS ONE IS A MERMAID?!  

He didn't feel like reading the rest. Idia wasn't a noob when it came to otome. On the contrary. He ate his teeth on all possible game genres. Usually, however, he made sure that they maintained any level. However, this title seemed to him like a bunch of random tropes. Someone on the other side just had to wait to throw them all together and create their fan dream.  

— I guess we can just take making choices — he said, inserting the disc into the console.  

— Don't worry, good people, for ladyknightskibidi:3 has arrived! — announced the prince with the archetype of the mysterious figure.  

— Idia, you have the humor of a seven-year-old — said the girl, seeing the MC nickname written on the screen.  

— But admit it, you're enjoying it. — Shroud handed over the controller.  

The heroine's long hair waved in the wind. Her eyes seemed to contain the light of all the stars. Rose petals were floating in the air and their strong scent seemed to captivate everyone around. Even though it was the middle of winter and they basically should be dead...  

— You can even choose the colour of the horse. Do you think this is important to the plot? And what if we miss the illustration? — [Reader's] hand hovered over the controller.  

— It's an obvious move. They want us to think that white is assigned to the pretty guy and black is assigned to the mysterious guy. Meanwhile, it's quite the opposite. I don't know who the last one is assigned to but it doesn't matter — Idia said.  

The white steed, a brave companion on many journeys, headed towards the main gate, where ladyknightskibidi:3 met the archetypal prince with a heart of gold who was talking to an NPC. She made her purchases, although they actually had no impact on the plot and were just a cash grab to force players to buy new outfits for the characters. So she left without a new dress, which was highlighted in the illustration by the armor that did not match the idyllic setting. After all, who says you can't kiss in full armor on the beach...?  

— There's no way we're going to pay for any DLC. Who do they think they are?  

— Do you know what the process of publishing indie games looks like? They have to make money somehow.  

— I don't care, we don't pay! I got this from Cater. Free is a fair price.  

The heroine saw the ultimate villain of the series, whom she had to defeat. With the power of kindness, friendship and, of course, sarcasm. Mostly sarcasm. Dressed in completely mismatched clothes because good stats are the most important. Even if it means you get married in a neon hat... The most important thing is that MC and her groom rode off into the sunset. Good ending unlocked. Now just repeat this a few times and multiply it by each save to also make bad endings...  

— Is it the end already? I understand they had to cram in a few routes but this is so short. — Shroud shook his head.  

The screen showed a colourful collage of obtainable illustrations. The end credits and the creators' names were scattered between them.  

The chosen one of MC's heart seemed to be smiling mockingly at Idia from behind the glass. Here is another story where someone like Vil from Pomefiore wins a girl's heart. Handsome, rich and famous. The complete package.  

— Oh yes, beautiful and perfect type. Why am I not surprised that bishōnen won? — Shroud mumbled into his sweatshirt sleeve.  

Unfortunately not quiet enough.  

— Idia, need I remind you that you also made half of the choices. You're also responsible for the outcome — [Reader] commented, putting down the controller.  

— I chose exactly as normies do in real life.  

— It's not about the game at all, is it? — [Reader] looked straight at him. — You've been avoiding me for two weeks. — So he really wasn't a good liar after all, he thought. — I don't think I gave you a reason to be offended but if I did, just tell me. And if it's another S.T.Y.X. problem, I'll try to do something too but I can't help you if you don't talk to me at all.  

Communication was never his default stat. However, he had to admit that he rarely tried to put any points into this skill tree. He just didn't develop it. He really wanted to start but just thinking about it felt like the ends of his hair were starting to change colour. The edges of the metalic chairs reflected an embarrassing red. As always, his hair had to betray him.  

Idia was a nerd. He thought through the situation in several hundred different ways and came up with tons of potential solutions. So why wasn't this conversation in any of his plans? Why was it so difficult to put any of the imaginary conversations into action? His brain went into a glitch because he had to face this hopeless truth that he didn't want to reveal even to his own brother.  

What could he say? [Reader] didn't deserve this prolonged, embarrassing silence. But she waited patiently despite two weeks of being ignored. So he did what was the only thing that came to his mind.  

— I'm an NPC — he finally said.  

— Okaaay. — Prefect of Ramshackle tilted her head uncertainly.  

— No, you don't understand — he sighed, rubbing his forehead. — For example, take the MC from Reincarnated in a fantasy world... uh... the MC from this game. You are like her. The main character is always running around and helping all the characters around her, without looking at herself. She doesn't even realize that she is smart, selfless and beautiful. She always knows what to say to bad guys and is not afraid to fight. And then a prince arrives on a white horse. He's pretty, rich, and provides her with everything she needs. There are no flaws because that's not how you write ikemens. They just should be cool and that's it. Then these two come together and boom! Good ending. At their wedding, the creators will put the NPC who sells you items in the crowd because they don't want to make a new model, so they can use it. In the sequel, maybe he'll even say a few words and you'll find out that he has a brother, a magic workshop and will repair your carriage but that's where the relationship ends. He will stand by the gate and sigh because he loves her but he will never tell her because he is not even in this game. He was never selected so he didn't make it to the cover...  

Everything he said came to him with a delay. When it came to games, his brain had always thought faster. But now he cursed him inwardly because the statement seemed to hang heavy in the air.  

[Reader] looked at him searching for something. She seemed to weigh her words. But he was prepared for anything. He played so many bad endings. This one will just be another one of them. So why was his heart beating so terribly fast and he was silently praying to his favourite idols to just take him away?  

— There are almost always secret routes in otome — the girl said.  

— Huh? Idia blinked rapidly. — I've played more otome than you, I don't know if you should educate me…— [Reader]'s raised brow made him stop talking.  

— The truth is, I played it a little with the Cater's sisters. This game also has a secret route. The seventh romance character is hidden. You unlock it when you pass…  

—…all routes — Shroud interjected. — Okay, I'm seriously shutting up now — he added, looking down.  

— This character is an item NPC. — [Reader] paused in case the boy was to interrupt her again but nothing happened. — What I mean is that the MC can also choose an NPC. If only he tells her how he feels and wants to take part in the game.  

The screen illuminated her face with a pale glow and the boy realized that in the darkness she really looked like the main character. How can you seriously say something so cool, as if nothing happened? She stared at him with silent expectation. He wanted to scream into dakimakura but he probably wouldn't look too cool doing it. So he mentally prayed to his idols. If there was ever a time the Premos should help him, this was it.

— In the game, the MC makes decisions, so technically she has no causative power and... Ahem. Okay. I know that I'm going too far. Sooo... would you like to go on a date with me? But it's best not to go to Mostro Lounge because there are a lot of people there and for the first time it could be tragically scary and...  

— Idia?  

— Yes? — He swallowed loudly.  

— I'll go on a date with you but your hair is burning the controller right now...  

[curtsycream]

My Heart Lingers in Italy

In which James Potter visits Italy for a school trip just to meet two girls that change him forever.

This is pretty short but it is only my first installment of this series if you want to call it that. It will be part of my summer project for my writing. So updates may be a bit slow but quality over quantity right? Anyway I hope you enjoy, it wasn’t beta read this time I wanted to get it out before I rewrite it completely or just scrap the idea. Also when they trade IDs it was supposed to be for Line and such like that but couldn’t find a face social media maker for that one, so yeah also English is not my first language so if my grammar or spelling is off I apologize in advance.

“Lily, where are we going?”

The two girls held hands as they weaved through a crowd of tourists. The streets of Verona normally weren’t so packed but it was tourist season. Smiling Lily tugs Y/N forward as the two girls walk, “Remember you said you’d go to Piazza San Zeno with me. I explicitly remember telling you last week when you were busy talking with Sienna.”

Y/N smiled broadly, “don’t tell me you were jealous again. You know you never have anything to worry about, she just wanted to know if I would be applying to universities outside of Italy. I told her I’m going wherever you go,” she whispered.

Ducking her head down Lily tried to use her hair to hide her reddened cheeks. “You’re so annoying sometimes, come on!”

The two girls, one smirking and the other blushing made their way to the open flea market. It was packed with locals and foreigners alike. Y/N waved to any and everyone she knew running different stalls. When Lily stopped walking she bumped into the shorter girl’s back.

“What’s the hold-up, Donnina?” Y/N glanced up to notice a group of teenagers. All about the same age as the two of them. But what stuck out the most was a group of boys playing around near a booth. Their playful nature was animated and rather funny.

Grinning she wrapped an arm around Lily’s shoulder, “oh I see it’s those tourists. They’re rather cute I’ll admit,” she commented.

“What do you think about that one?” Lily asked pointing at a bespectacled boy with dark hair.

Squinting Y/N finds herself analyzing the boy from his charming behaviors to his handsome looks. “Attractive,” it was simple but for someone like Y/N, it meant a lot.

Lily and Y/N knew each other inside and out better than most people did. So a simple compliment from Y/N meant she wanted to get to know him too.

“Should we talk to him?”

“What about that thing we rushed here for?”

“Aldo will be here next Sunday with the book I want to look at, should we talk to him?”

The urgency in her voice was clear, it hinted at her fear of passing up on what could be a once-in-a-lifetime deal. Nodding her head Y/N nods her head in his direction, “Let’s go.”

Pulling Lily along she smiled softly when standing in front of the boy. Up close he was much more handsome than she gave him credit for.

James was listening to Remus explain the difference between the two books in his hands to Sirius. He knew Sirius only did this to rile him up. Looking away from his friends he noticed two girls walking towards him. One was short and flushed and the other tall and grinning.

He would be lying if he said that he didn’t feel something. They were opposites of each other yet they looked so good together. Like that of sunshine and rain where together they equal out to rainbows. A balance is what they represent one that he wanted to be a part of. It was a strange feeling but it felt meant to be.

“Ciao,” he said without thinking.

The tall girl smiled with a laugh, “Ciao.” While the shorter one looked away before looking back at him with a smile, “Ciao.”

“I, I didn’t really pass Italian just enough to end up on this trip,” he explained. He felt as if he had to as if he owned them something.

“No it’s fine, we know English. Your accent British?” The tall one asked with just as much interest as a puppy. Her accent is thick as she speaks fluently and confidently.

“Yes, I guess the accent was very obvious,” he joked.

“That among other things,” the words from the shorter girl made him grin. Her voice was lithe sneaking up on his ears with agility. While the taller girl’s voice felt like velvet wrapping around his eyes blinding him with mystery. Both were opposite but equal in the effects they were having on his senses.

“Oh, what are these other things?” He asked leaning forward enough to smell figs and jasmine on her. A floral and fruity scent that made him lean back some.

“If I told you so easily it wouldn’t be as fun,” she told him.

“She’s always like this if you’re wondering, you’ll have to pry her secrets from her cold little hands to know.” The glint of amusement in the taller girl’s eyes was evident. Just like the smell of mint and lemon when she stepped closer to whisper that to him. The crisp and citrus scent was exhilarating like a cool breeze sweeping over him.

“I’ll keep that in mind for the next time we meet,” he tells her.

The confidence in his tone was enough to cause Y/N to look away. Lily found herself squinting at him, “who said we would meet again?”

“I can’t say for sure but I hope so,” he says. “You’re both really interesting.”

“We’ve said less than five sentences each,” she tells him. All he did was shrug a look of certainty on his face. His expression revealed it all as if he knew they would.

“Then let’s trade IDs?” He asked them.

“How do you even know we have the app?”

“I don’t, but I’d like to hope you do, red.”

Laying in her bed whilst looking up at her ceiling Lily sighs. Sitting up she glanced over at whom she deemed her other half. The other girl was sculpting something with clay her headphones probably blaring some loud music.

Each time Lily tried to sleep her mind would wander to the bespectacled boy they met. His charisma was refreshing in a way she had not expected. Though she denied it on the trip back home she did enjoy his company.

His words so easily teased and left her cheeks red. She couldn’t understand how he so easily did so. Before she could think longer about the British boy she felt arms snake around her waist. A head resting on her chest, “What are you thinking so hard about, Donnina?”

Weaving her fingers through the taller girl’s hair the ginger sighs. A look of contemplation on her freckled face. “That guy…the British boy. He’s not easy to forget,” she uttered.

Mulling over Lily’s words she agreed, “I get that..he’s very charismatic in a way. But under all that, there is this heart tug where you can’t help but enjoy his company.”

“Exactly!” Lily exclaimed as she brushed hair out of the other girl’s face. Her finger trailed down her forehead and along the bridge of her nose. “I wonder if that’s normal…to feel that way about someone you just met.”

Humming softly Y/N’s fingers ghost over Lily’s sides before resting on her hips. “Maybe it’s a British thing? To be so charming and have people eager to see them again.”

“I thought that was the French?”

“It’s all relative, or how do people say Greek to me.”

Lily snorted shaking her head, “I think this is why you shouldn’t skip out on your literature classes.”

“Why would I stop when I have such a beautiful tutor to teach me when I don’t show up for classes?”

“You’re such a flirt.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way, donnina.”

Verona was beautiful at night, James remembered Remus telling him it was the city of Romeo and Juliet. A lovely Italian city where lovers can go and enjoy the sights around them.

Lover or not he had to admit that the city was more than he expected. The town with its medieval architecture and the meandering Adige river. It was hard for him to stop looking out of his window as the moon reflected perfectly upon it.

He could hear Sirius and Remus’ hushed tones within the room. The two had spent the day with James although James made it clear he was okay alone. He didn’t want to ruin the time his friends could have in such a romantic place together.

But he was grateful, sighing he glanced down his eyes finally leaving the river. People were still walking about outside conversing. he expected the nightlife to not be as active. From the morning and afternoon being busy with bustling marketplaces, piazzas, shops, and gardens. But from the way people were chattering and laughing it seemed there was more to the city.

For some reason he found himself watching a duo of two women. One tall and the other short both of them laughing and clinging to each other in their drunken state. He wondered if they did similar activities, or rather he wondered what they were doing now.

A small ding left his phone, his hand dived into his trousers pocket to retrieve it. A message from Y/N appeared on his phone, eagerly he opened it.

Typos are on purpose because they are messaging in English. To better clarify when it’s just Lily and Y/N speaking together it will be in Italian. I’ll better indicate that in the next installment, but Y/N is terrible at English but she tries. I’m such a sucker for this trio already.

[muzsmoux]

MHA headcanons because the show makes me happy: part 2

This turned out sort of Bakugou heavy, I don't even like him that much but alas he's an interesting little guy. Like last time, if you don't like them or it clashes with canon that's okay. I can be wrong about inconsequential things sometimes. As a treat :)

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🌟 Tsuyu is autistic and does not mask at all. If you want a brutally honest opinion without aggression that comes from annoying Bakugou, Tsu is your gal.

🌟 Aizawa hates great danes. He's neutral about dogs in general, not his thing but people can like what they like. But great danes... They just don't sit right with his soul.

🌟 It does kind of bother Ojiro when Denki uses his tail as a fidget toy in class. But it seems to help him focus a bit so Ojiro doesn't have the heart to tell him to stop.

🌟 Thirteen has a program for troubled kids struggling with "villainous" quirks. They want to show people that if literal black holes can be used to do good in the world, so can any other ability.

🌟 Kirishima is a good singer but he only does it when he's alone. His singing voice is much softer than his speaking voice, and he thinks it's not manly enough. Bakugou knows this because he sometimes hears him practice Lemon Boy at night. He doesn't say anything about it though because he'd rather admit to Deku he considers him a good friend than jeopardize that experience.

- Welcome to the Bakugou interlude! One of these have a VERY brief mention of PAST domestic abuse, it's marked by this 💥 if you'd rather skip that. -

🌟 Bakugou got his passion for cooking from Auntie Inko. She'd always let him help with dinner when he stayed over, and taught him that cooking is a way to show love when putting it into words is too hard. Now he makes lunch for his friends every Saturday.

💥 Masaru is actually Katsuki's stepdad. Mitsuri managed to escape her abusive first marriage when Katsuki was four. After all the trauma, she found safety in the kind, gentle man that is now her husband. Masaru is endlessly patient with his son and Katsuki turned out to be 100% a papa's boy. And Mitsuki couldn't be any happier about that.

🌟 Not counting his boyfriend, Bakugou's closest friends are actually Ochaco and Denki. Besides Kirishima Ochaco is the only other student he considers a true equal. And Denki just kind of weaseled himself into his heart along the way.

🌟 When Bakugo is being particularly difficult Denki likes to call him a boomer.

🌟 Bakugou's worst enemies aren't the LoV or even Deku. It's Mina's neon pink and chartreuse zebra print faux fur collar dressing gown and Kirishima's 8-in-1 shampoo.

🌟 Pro hero Dynamight, famous for his smoky eye and sharp liner, has an alt skincare and makeup brand with violent names and edgy packaging but impeccable quality. His most recent release is the 3rd Degree palette, a collab with Shouto.

- That's it for the Bakugou interlude! -

🌟 Fatgum was VERY popular with both girls and boys in high school and all the "nice guys" were seething about it. He was a tall, funny, thick guy and the definition of a dad friend. He always had crackers or granola bars on him in case someone skipped breakfast.

🌟 Yaomomo takes commissions from her classmates if they want something made. She takes payment is in the form of chocolates equivalent to how much fat she has to burn to make the item, or based on how stupid she thinks it is. (She charged Denki 2 whole chocolate cakes for a maid dress.)

🌟 Hatsume is secretly working on a new hero costume for Momo. She overheard her confiding in Jirou that the outfit is cold and makes her feel exposed and vulnerable, so she stole some leftover scraps from Mirio's costume for studying and got to work immediately.

🌟 Even in his true form, Toshinori is freakishly tall. Endeavor, a full time beefcake of almost 2 meters, can just barely look the decrepit old man with turbo asthma in the eyes. And that drives him insane.

🌟 Toshinori thinks of his Allmight form as drag. When he lived in the US he explored all the things he'd missed out on living in a more conservative country and became a regular at the ballroom scene. The queens inspired him to camp up his hero persona to the MAX.

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Thank you for reading!! If you liked this you can check out part 1 here.

[obsessive-valentine]

I just adored your mad scientist hc post and was wondering what their life would be like. Like would y/n go to school? Would they be allowed friends? Would the scientist ever seek out a mother figure for his child? (Or make one himself???) I'm srry if this is a ramble I just love platonic yandere fics lmao.

Platonic!Mad-Scientist + Experiment!Reader (PT2)

We love rambling around these parts anon, the best ideas come from conversations ❤️

Some world building of life after escaping the lab with platonic mad-scientist. TW brief mention of murder

Life would be pretty simple in the little terrace house on the quiet part of town, the house is kept clean and homely a very harsh contrast to the office he lived in for most his life back at the lab. He still collects specimens, making his home office like a little museum - he also still fiddles with things making odd inventions from the locals scrap.

In fact that’s how you both have become beloved members of the community, he offered to fix something for a neighbour and did such a good job people sought him out. He also makes things for you, like how you loved music so he’d fix up music boxes or how you loved a certain animal or bug that he made a little mechanical figure of it that swam/flew/walked.

He wouldn’t see the point in letting you go to school though, despite how friendly the people are, mostly because he’s smarter than any teacher they have; he’s practically a genius when it comes to math, science and history. But it’s also because he doesn’t want you becoming to independent.

Despite not going to school you’re still seen by the towns people-very often- when you tag along with the scientist when he’s running errands or shopping. You’re always well dressed, good manners and happy so there aren’t any suspicions, if anything, admiration for such a dedicated father. Most of your ‘friends’ are the older people who run the shops, there’s not many opportunities for you to play with other kids your age and he makes sure of that.

Definitely takes you to the pictures and restaurants often, probably a weekly thing or more. I mean he’s basically retired due to being payed plenty during his days in the government labs, so aside from small favours for the towns people and personal hobbies (dissecting and mechanics probs) he really is just a house father; leaving ample amount of time to take you out on cute little evening dates.

Because he’s so dedicated to your upbringing it’s very unlikely he’ll become romantically involved with a woman and no chance he’d seek it out for himself. He might if it benefited you but truly doesn’t believe you need anyone but him, he’s incredibly smart and not just book smart but emotionally evolved with you, there’s nothing he can’t do that a mother would do for you. He himself isn’t interested in romance but I wouldn’t rule it out completely, just unlikely.

You both spend most mornings doing school work together then he lets you have free time as he cleans or cooks, then in the afternoons he’s usually in his study fixing, building or dissecting and recording in one of his thousands of accumulated note books. He doesn’t mind you sitting with him while he does this or even better helping. After this sometimes you both go into town or if it’s a quiet day you both stay home and cook dinner.

At some point you’re sent to bed, he sticks to a strict bedtime only to be broken on birthdays or holidays. He will tuck you in and read a chapter from the book he bought not so long ago. He doesn’t sleep as much as you, usually he returns to his study or sometimes he sneaks out and gets rid of a certain problem person that’s been a bit rude to you or him, he only tolerates stuff from his darling child who can do no wrong, other than that he does have a bit of a temper. No one will miss a ill-mannered person anyways.

[roseworth]

Any thoughts on Bart and Rose?

MANY

they make me so goddamn emotional. first of all bart being genuinely interested in being friends with her in a period of her life where she felt like no one really wanted her around.. like the titans kinda had to look after her and the older titans saw her as an unstable child that had to be taken care of (which is correct. but she didnt like that). but BART just looked at her and thought she was cool and wanted to hang out with her <3

and him saying "its not like that" is sooo sweet bc he really just wanted to be friends with her 😭 ge*ff made their relationship sorta romantic but its so sweet that he saw her and said "idk how i feel about her but i just know i want to hang out with her <3"

also my fav thing ever is that he sees her screaming at donna and crying and goes "this is the perfect time to make my move 😎" its so fucking funny because then the NEXT time he sees her he does the exact same thing. she watched her foster parents get murdered in front of her and bart goes "hey rose! its me your friend!" ily bart. but he just keeps running into her at the absolute lowest points in her life and trying to be friends. like baby shes about to kill herself this is not the time to hang out...

and then. GOD. HELLO. tt03 #12 makes me lose my fucking mind btw

sobbing because hes the ONLY PERSON that ever reached out to her during this era. hes the only person that recognized there was something wrong and tried to help her. he knew her!!! he thought she was lying to slade because he couldnt believe she would do that. GOD.

it drives me insane that so many people who shouldve done something to help her just. didnt. but i understand that sometimes the story has to happen and they couldnt do it. thats FINE its FINE

ooouuuuggaaagahguhhohuguhhoyhuguhhughggaghahhguhhuogouhghhggagghhguhuahgguhhohooouuauauhghggaagahhuhguhooouguhaggahghgh. im fine.

"rose was there. trying not to be like her dad. trying to be something else." ACK. OUCH. ok im fine.

then. titans of tomorrow 🤮

scraps of what could've been....... i assume geoff had an arc in mind where the titans take rose back (they were at least kinda hinting at it in some of the stories) and i so badly want to know what would've happened. i like the renegade arc but i wish we got a story with the titans taking her back :((( i dont trust jeff geohns with anything but... in my imagination it would've been a great story with bart coming to get her and convincing her to leave her dad

and im still refusing to acknowledge the rest of the titans of tomorrow arc because that story is so goddamn stupid and boring. but theyre married or something in it idk

BUT. BUT BUT BUT. heres where i get insane

because ouuughhhh they could be besties but they just. keep missing each other. right person wrong time but platonically because oughhhh they first met when rose's life was just completely destroyed. then they meet again when rose's life was destroyed AGAIN. then!!!!!!!! when rose meets the team its right after bart leaves and later dies

throwing up and crying bc after rose dies we get so much of rose's favorite trauma response of suppressing it and pretending she doesnt care then trying to fuck someone

someone that she considered a friend but hadnt been able to talk to in years dies and she says "LOL that funeral is so boring! haha bart meant nothing to me. im fine. stop talking about feelings and lets skinny dip right now. bart who" go off queen <3 she does not want to let herself feel any emotion so she represses it as hard as she can forever

(btw. i have complicated feelings about this bc as much as its in character for her to repress all her feelings with sexualizing herself,,,, ew. idk if this is johns or mckeever but its one of their faults and i know it because despite defining all the important aspects of her character theyre both so gross about her sometimes. men 👎 but thats a completely different rant)

ARRHCHHGGHFAHN.... THEN. titans of tomorrow (🤮) again

bart spent this entire story saying she was awful and trying to murder her (they divorced i guess. stupid ass storyline i dont care) shes still sad to lose him again. this is literally the only time she lets herself mourn him and its right after hes been trying to kill her. there is so much wrong with her <3 <3 <3

also as i was looking for that panel i saw this one and i think its so silly:

thats my girl!!! take no responsibility for anything ever and always find someone else to blame for your actions 💞 and bonus points for hating men !

anyways. then later the krul run happens and theyre both vaguely out of character but they FINALLY get to be friends again!!!!!! theyre buddies!!!!!!!!!!!! theyre hanging out!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

besties bullying a 12 year old together <3

also one of my favs because i know its supposed to be "haha barts being creepy to her XD isnt that so funny" but inside my head this moment is just bart getting so excited about being on a team with rose again that he refuses to let her miss any of the action. he grabs her hand and gets her into her costume and doesnt think anything of it because hes just so happy that he gets to hang out with his buddy <3 that wasnt the writers intention. but it is to me

if youre willing to exaggerate. they r so besties here. they are taking every opportunity to hang out because they finally get to be buddies :') we still get to see bart just genuinely liking her and once again he just thinks shes cool and wants to hang out with her <3333 theyre so much fun

and i cant keep looking for screenshots because reading the end of this book bums me out since the new52 happened and they couldnt finish any of the arcs they had planned. lili worth i miss you every day

anyways yeah to answer your question. i love bart & rose 👍 the way hes one of the only people that just. likes her. hes the first person (ish) that reaches out to her after her mom died when she was at a very low point in her life and he continues to just enjoy her company and like her as a person which doesnt happen a lot <///3 there are so few people that like her and want to spend time with her and just genuinely think shes a good person but bart always does!!!!! barring t*tans *f t*morrow bart always likes her and always thinks highly of her when no ones else does 💞💞💞 theyre so sweet and i want them to interact again

[jbird-the-manwich]

I keep running into a sentiment along the lines of “If you’re a witch you shouldn’t need to study” and A) I feel like it has to come from tiktok (or that one scene in GoT and they wanna cosplay circe for a minute) and B) there’s almost always an insinuation that any who do study are looking to correct a lack of ability.  I think we should actively dismantle the notion that studying witchcraft or magic and performing the labor of information hunting and verification is always a power grab or a pursuit of results actually. 

You can get fine results without tomes of historical spells. but studying is fun. Especially when in the course of that study you often find threads of theory or practice that despite vast gaps of distance or time have nevertheless appeared to have evolved very similarly. 

You don’t need to know things I suppose. But you also don’t need a wall of funko pops or plants or paintings. There is enrichment in the act of collecting, curating and preserving. Decorating your mind and your books and your drives with little scraps of treasured, hard won data. Particularly when what you collect is obscure historical parallels or precedent for things you yourself experience. Seeing how other people have wielded and directed and policed power throughout time can be and often is less driven by a thirst for power itself and more a thirst for knowledge, trivial and not.

 Most of us already know how to wield our own power. That’s not what we're looking for. We’re looking for inspiration, information, a thread we can pull chronologically from one age back to another to find that it’s some semblance of ourselves holding the other end. To see the creativity and logic of our ancestors. To learn the ways in which magical practice has been rationalized. Some of us simply have an archivists bent and find joy in the work of learning itself. It’s not about the power. It’s about the high. The Interest. The Intrigue. Some of us just plain adore a spreadsheet. Some of us are witches and nerds. Sometimes studying is a hobby. Some of us like to pick up a book and come away with an answer to why the fuck we found a shoe in the wall that one time. Some of us want to leave behind for our progeny a grimoire or seven that slaps. Some of us are alchemists and artificers and smiths and enchanters in the genuine physical sense and require data to generate an object we’ve been tasked to create. Some of us are comforted by the knowledge that we’re merely doing a dance that has been done before. Some of us want the future generations of our bloodlines to know exactly where to look if they’ve been cursed. Some of us are just procrastinating. But I would bet that most if not all of us are studying within a context that invalidates the sentiment that we’re bothering to learn at all because we’re not “powerful enough” otherwise. Some of us just want to see what other people did with the same power in a different context. Some of us are hereditary and long-matured in our ways and have massive beautiful veiny dicks you will never get to see with that attitude.