#WHAT was goin on with that court scene

[thoughtsfromlayla]

26 Ways of Taking You: D for Doggy

Summary: How does an Endless teach you a lesson? Maybe on your hands and knees.

Notes: ~2.9k words, your girl needs to get laid 눈_눈

Warnings: MDNI - 18+, unprotective sex (do you think Endless can get STDs?), fem!reader, dom!dream, p in v, no foreplay goin' in dry babyyyy, jealous dream, unintentional cheating, slight angst but it gets fucked out, enjoy

⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠄･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄

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The world warps around you once again as your body stretches to a singular dimension. You are the beginning and end of everything. You will be there even when Death leaves and then you will take what she has left and open the next universe. Rebirth and repurpose. 

The Traveller. The One Who Knows. The Singularity. 

You have a name, you think, but it’s so old you don’t even remember how it feels on your tongue. 

It’s lonely being you, your sole job is making sure that everything works out in the end for every being, dead, alive, or yet to exist. And in your lonely existence, you often wander to different universes and realms. Your favorite was the Dreaming, a large realm that spread several different universes ruled by the Lord of Dreams, Morpheus. 

The familiar essence of the Dreaming greets you when you’re done warping into the realm. You feel each cell of your body rebuilding itself, from quirks to cells, from cells to living organisms, you are reborn. With a blow from your lips, your hair made of star systems and nebulas float back into place. 

The familiar corset you wore before you warped cinches around your waist and a breath leaves you, the ivory bones poking into your ribs. It was the necessary fashion for the realm you went to where a sneakily placed seed was enough to end a war that would come in five decade’s time. The rest of the time was spent entertaining the fae prince in his court. A good way to pass the time, but it eventually got boring, hence here you were.

The smell of tea and leather bound books indicates that you managed to weasel yourself into Lucienne’s library. You run your fingers across the spine of old and new books alike, occasionally itching your back when the markings annoy you. The corset dilutes the relief and you’re left with a slight vex for being denied scratching an itch. Lucienne is fast to find you, or you her, it’s all the same to you. You greet each other at a long table. Scrolls, books, and maps laid out before you. 

“Lady Singularity,” She greets with a familiar smile. “It’s good to see you again. It’s been a few decades now, has it?” 

“It has.” You agree as you turn your attention to the worn book in her hands, noticing the familiar face of the fae prince you met. “I was just with him.” You comment off handedly. 

“Of course, the Dreaming catalogs everything. You have been busy.” Lucienne comments as she continues to flip through the pages of your recent adventure. 

You look over her shoulder and read along with her, chuckling to yourself at the fun you had. When a familiar scene starts to unfold on the page, blush creeps up your cheeks and down your neck, a few of the stars in your hair exploding from your outrage. 

“Don’t read that!” You exclaim as you yank the book from her hands. You close it shut and the sound echoes in the library. 

“Oh, please, I’ve read everything. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.” Lucienne takes the book from you and no matter how hard you grip, the librarian has some weird power over the book and takes it easily. 

“Okay, well don’t read it when I’m in the room. I don’t need a friend to know what I did with… him.” Your words taper as you give yourself away the more you speak. “I’m leaving.” You say quickly as you run away from the situation. 

The sun is setting when you make your way up the winding and seemingly never-ending stairs of the castle. The halls were cast in warm pinks and oranges when you reached the room the Dream Lord had given you the first time you visited several millennia ago. The room is the same as you left it, the open window giving to a soft breeze as dusk turns to night. 

You walk to the mirror, noticing slight changes to your physical form when you jump through that wormhole. You’ll stay the night and then go back to your own realm, the dimension between past and future, but for now, the present is much needed. 

You pull at the string of your outer dress and start to breathe easier, the heavy fabric dropping and pooling around your feet. Your shoes come off soon after and then your stockings. Your fingers grasp at the strings that tie your corset together but each time comes just an inch short. You’re becoming breathless from the struggle when your room door opens. 

“Singularity.” A voice calls out to you. His shadow blocks the entire door before he slinks into the room. His robe flowed behind him like a wave of black ink. 

“Hello, Morpheus.” You greet back, looking at him through the ornate mirror. 

You go back to trying to loosen your corset, the markings on your back growing more and more itchy the longer you struggle. You give up with a huff, and your shoulders sag in defeat. 

“Allow me,” Dream offers and his cold fingers run across your upper back, moving the nebulas over your shoulder, then trailer down your shoulder. 

Goosebumps follow the fingers and down your arms before his slender fingers go to untangle the corset strings. You feel his exhale on the back of your neck and you close your eyes, afraid of what you may look like to him through the mirror, or worse yet losing yourself if you were to see him. You do end up peaking and watching intensely at how his expert fingers unfasten the strings of the constricting clothing. 

“I have missed you.” Dream confesses.

His lips press against the base of your neck when the corset finally comes off. Despite it slowly coming off, you find it hard to breathe still. His proximity was going to kill you if the end of time didn’t. He looks at you through the mirror, keeping eye contact with you as his fingers land on your waist. 

“Will you stay the night?” He murmurs against your neck, kissing the soft skin beneath it again. His hands go over your shoulder again, pulling at the chemise and letting the thin fabric fall off by itself. The final piece of clothing joining the others at your feet. 

You turn around, his hands guiding you, and place your arms around his neck, resting them there on his shoulders. 

“Maybe a few nights, if you shall permit it?” You grin up at him with a slight tilt of your head. 

He chuckles and leans in for a kiss and you meet him halfway, standing on your toes to reach his height. Oh, how he has missed the taste of you, the softness of your lips pressed against his. You have been gone too long, he thinks with a groan. 

You jump and find it to no surprise when he catches you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist comfortably as he moves the two of you towards the bed. Morpheus is all hands, running them over the roundness of your ass, up the curves of your hips, back down to caress the plumpness of your thighs. 

His lips continue, running his tongue across your bottom lip and leaning into you when you answer with a whine. The taste of you drives him crazy, his mind is in swirls as he tastes faerie pomegranate and figs. 

“Did you visit the Faerie Prince of Khoné?” He pulls away from your lips despite the difficulty of being away from you. Instead he finds solace in the shape of your collarbone, pressing open mouth kisses onto the thin skin. “I can taste it. I can taste him.” His voice rumbles with danger, the voice of a jealous lover. 

Oblivious, you settle your arms around his neck, playing with the small loose hairs at the base of his head. “I did, why?”

“And you visited him?” He asked again, emphasizing the word to ask you indirectly of what he really wanted to know. 

You look at him, eyes dark and swirling with emotion, his hands on your hips holding you harder as the seconds tick by. 

“Yes?” You answer unsure. “I visited him.”

A frown etches onto his face as he stays silent. 

You scoff at his reaction. “Of course I have multiple lovers, as I expect you to as well?”

Your fingers wander upwards into his unruly hair, twisting a few strands between your fingers. Still, he stays silent. The only indication was the brief flick of his eyes leaving yours. 

“Oh,” You say when you understand. “Oh.” You say one more time when the weight of the conversation dawns on you again. 

You’ve never felt more exposed than you have now, an emotional wedge driven between you and Morpheus. You get up from his lap and it hurts when he lets you, you feel the way your stomach drops at how easily he lets you go. Your arms cross over your chest and you step further away from the bed, and from him. The two parts of the equation are something you no longer saw yourself allowed to be a part of. 

“Forgive me, I presumed you had other lovers,” You meekly say.

Morpheus saw you now, no longer the confident entity that you usually were. You didn’t even meet his gaze. The stars in your hair turned blue and dull, a few dying at the fraying ends. 

“You presumed I had other lovers?” He echos, his voice tipped with anger. He stands now, looming over you, peering at you down his nose. His question was obvious, accusatory, and somewhat downright demeaning. 

“Forgive me, I’ll just…” You turn to leave, running away just as you’ve always done when things get too hard. You feel the way your body begins to warp, unraveling strand by strand. 

The warping stops when cool hands wrap themselves around your waist once again. One moment you are between realms and the next you are pulled back on the plush bed. You stare, dazed, at the equally ornate headboard and try to backtrack what just happened. Morpheus comes behind you, watching with lust filled eyes of you on your hands and knees, at the way your hair falls over your shoulders. You turn your head and look at him over your shoulders, unsure what was happening. Morpheus’s face gives away nothing, even his clothes disappeared, an act that you didn’t see him do.

“What’s–” Your words are cut off as he leans and his hand comes entangled in your hair, firmly grasping it. A gasp leaves your lips and you notice the way your body couldn’t stop the way your back arched at the pleasurable pain. 

“Bow your head,” He growls as he shoves your head into the pillow. Your arms give out beneath you at the slight force. Heat travels easily down to your core and you feel the wetness slide down your inner thigh. 

“It’s Lord Morpheus for tonight, darling. You will do well to remember that.” His voice gravels as he runs a finger down your spine. He traces the markings lightly, causing a ticklish sensation across your back and a whine follows. Your ass pushes back on him impatiently at which he clicks his tongue at. 

“You do not get to ask for anything tonight. You will only take what your rightful lover will give you, understood?” His fingers trace your opening teasingly as his other hand holds down your hip in control, 

“Yes, my lord,” You gape, your eyes rolling and you swore you could see the back of your skull. A plea rests heavy on your tongue, but you bite yourself so as to not break his rules tonight. 

Dream of the Endless is a gentle lover, but even his patience can run thin. His eyes run over your figure, curves prominent at the position he has placed you in. He loved you like this, vulnerable, exposed, and ready for him to do as he pleases with you tonight. 

The hotness of him presses against your entrance, sitting comfortably between your lips and he pushes forward once, twice, neither times entering you. You only whine in distress as he dances the line between teasing and pure, unadulterated pleasure. He caresses his hand over the curve of your ass, against the softness of your thighs, just like before, and you understand that he isn’t mad anymore, but you will be taught a lesson tonight nonetheless. 

He grabs the base of your hair again, the nebulas leaving shimmering stardust over his finger and presses a third time. His other hand grounds you on your hips and he pushes in. Without any proper foreplay his size stretches you uncomfortably. But, Dream of the Endless is a gentle lover so he stays still, fighting every urge in his shaking body as he looks down at your ragged breathing and uncontrollable shivers. 

He waits until you push back into him before he begins to move, taking you in inch by thick inch. He pulls out and a groan vibrates in his throat at the drag of his cock in you. The sound of your muffled moans spur him as he stares at how he enters you again. One more drag of his cock and he starts to fuck you in earnest as your whimpers grow louder. 

The sound of skin slapping against skin bounce around the room accompanied by the sound of your wonton, muffled moans. He pulls at your hair, pulling your face away from the pillows and the sounds grow louder. Each thrust he gives you makes your moans grow higher in pitch. You don’t think he’s ever been this deep in you as he scrambles the thoughts into your brain into nothing more than pleasurable gibberish. 

His hands were everywhere they could get a hold of. You’re chanting now, anything that comes across as a thought in your mind leaves your mouth in a haste of gibberish and repeats of his name like a mantra. Your clit begs for attention and with the last bit of clarity you had left, you moved one hand down towards your core. 

Morpheus is quick to stop you, giving a sound slap on the meat of your ass cheeks, the sting enough for you to yank your hand away. 

“Please,” You whine. “Please, please, please, my lord.”

“Will you return to the Faerie Prince of Khoné?” He asks between pants.

Your pussy tightens around his cock as his fingers and trusts do not slow down. Your orgasm was imminent and just barely shimmering under your skin. The question he asks sounds muffled in your mind, distorted amongst the thoughts of his unrelenting pounding and your clit pulsing from attention. 

“Hah… who?” You managed to choke out.

“Perfect answer, my star.” He whispers in your ear.

“Please,” You beg again. “I need it.” 

He thinks for a bit, considering if you deserve it as he watches you try to fuck yourself harder by meeting his thrusts. With a hum he leans over you, enveloping you in the warmth of his body as his fingers slide between your legs. He taps it once, enough to make you jump slightly in your skin, before he draws tight circles around the enlarged clit, your arousal making the action easy and slippery. 

Somewhere along the lines of your moaning, drool seeps out of you, wetting the pillow with your spit. Morpheus notices, of course, and grins at the sight. 

“Let me cum, please let me cum!” You plead into the air, obscenities of his name following soon after. 

“Very well, I shall give it to you.” 

Morpheus fucks you harder, just the way you like it, just the way he knows how to give it to you. Your orgasm is ripped out of you with a high pitched wail, sparking down your spine as little firecrackers light up in your hair, your teeth buzzing with the force of it all. The wetness of your orgasm soaks the inside of your thighs and drips down onto the sheets. Morpheus watches closely as it leaves you in a panting mess and feels himself become undone, releasing himself into the deepest part of you. 

He stays like that for a few moments, relishing in the warmth of your sex. When he does pull out, the mixture of your two arousals slowly seeps out, joining the puddle on the sheets. He calms his breathing, going back to tracing the art on your spine. You collapse in a heap of flesh and bones, using the last bit of your energy to turn over and lay on your back. Morpheus crawls over you, his hand never leaving your skin as he cups your face. 

“No more lovers but you,” You promise as he places a soft kiss on your lips. 

“I could never control you even if I wanted to, but… thank you,” He says as he accepts your promise. 

Morpheus falls beside you and pulls the blankets over both of your bodies, pulling you close so you would be flushed against his side. By now the sun has long since set and the two lovers share each other’s embrace in the company of stars. 

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This was my poor attempt at understanding physics and trying to personify a concept like a singularity

♡ Yours, Layla

[callsigns-haze]

Prison for life..

Pairing: Acotar x reader Warning: This fic contains scenes of peril, violence, and suspense, as well as moments of light-hearted humor and camaraderie. Reader discretion is advised. Summary: Amidst the eerie shadows of the dark woods, YN faces a terrifying encounter with a malevolent beast, only to be rescued by the timely intervention of Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian, whose camaraderie and laughter serve as a beacon of light in the midst of darkness.

This is kinda a request by @callsign-magnolia, i didn't know what to write and the cutie helped me come up with an idea legit only like 2 hours back

Song I kinda used is Prison for life because 🎶I'm a feminist, obviously But I wouldn't really mind him savin' me And I know that I'm fine without a man But I think I would like his protection I'm just bein' honest, can't change what I like I'll never forget it, he told me one night If anybody hurts you, hah I'm goin' to prison for life🎶

As YN found herself amidst the grandeur of the Court of the Long Lost Gods, her mind was consumed with the weight of her impending speech. As the sole High Lady present, she understood the significance of this moment—it was her chance to make an impression, to assert her authority, and to inspire confidence in her leadership.

Yet, despite her best efforts, YN couldn't seem to shake off the nagging sense of doubt that gnawed at her confidence. She paced the opulent halls of the court, her footsteps echoing in the vast expanse, as she rehearsed her speech over and over again.

But each time she spoke the words aloud, they fell flat, lacking the conviction and passion she knew they needed to command attention. Frustration bubbled within her, a simmering brew of anxiety and self-doubt that threatened to overwhelm her.

"I am the High Lady," she whispered to herself, trying to summon the confidence she so desperately needed. "I am capable. I am worthy."

Yet, no matter how many times she repeated the words, they felt hollow, devoid of the strength and conviction she knew she possessed deep within.

With a frustrated sigh, YN sank onto a nearby bench, her hands running through her hair in exasperation. How could she hope to lead her people if she couldn't even find the words to inspire them?

But then, amidst the turmoil of her thoughts, a glimmer of determination flickered within her. She may not have the perfect speech prepared, but she refused to let her doubts hold her back.

Rising to her feet once more, YN straightened her shoulders and squared her jaw, a newfound resolve burning bright in her eyes. She may not have all the answers, but she was determined to face whatever challenges lay ahead with courage and determination.

With renewed purpose, YN returned to her preparations, ready to face the court and deliver a speech that, while imperfect, would be filled with the sincerity and passion that defined her as a leader. For she knew that true leadership wasn't about perfection—it was about courage, conviction, and the unwavering belief in oneself, even in the face of uncertainty.

As YN continued to read over her speech, frustration bubbled within her like a pot left too long on the stove. With each stumble over her words, her irritation mounted, threatening to boil over.

"Damn it," she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with frustration as she reread a particularly troublesome passage for what felt like the hundredth time. "Why can't I get this right?"

Her fingers clenched tightly around the parchment, crumpling the edges as she fought to rein in her frustration. But try as she might, the words refused to cooperate, slipping through her grasp like water through clenched fists.

"Stupid, worthless speech," she cursed, her tone sharp with self-directed anger. "Why does it have to be so damn difficult?"

Each mistake felt like a blow to her pride, a reminder of her own inadequacy in the face of the daunting task before her. She knew she needed to impress the court, to prove herself worthy of her title as High Lady, but in this moment, all she could focus on was her own frustration and self-doubt.

With a frustrated growl, YN tossed the parchment aside, her patience worn thin by her repeated failures. She buried her face in her hands, feeling the weight of her responsibilities pressing down upon her like a leaden cloak.

But even in the midst of her frustration, a small voice whispered in the back of her mind—a voice that reminded her of her strength, her resilience, and her unwavering determination to succeed. And with that voice as her guide, YN took a deep breath, steeling herself for another attempt.

With renewed determination, she picked up the parchment once more, her eyes blazing with determination as she prepared to tackle her speech head-on. For she knew that no matter how many times she stumbled and fell, she would always rise again, stronger and more determined than ever before.

As frustration gnawed at YN's patience, threatening to overwhelm her, a sudden intrusion broke through the turmoil of her thoughts. Rhysand's voice, clear and unmistakable, echoed in her mind—a telepathic communication that caught her completely off guard.

"Having a bit of trouble there, YN?" Rhysand's voice teased, his amusement palpable even through the telepathic link.

YN's eyes widened in shock, her heart pounding in her chest as she struggled to process the unexpected intrusion. She hadn't seen Rhysand since the ball, and the sudden appearance of his voice in her mind sent a jolt of surprise coursing through her veins.

"Rhys," she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "What are you doing?"

Rhysand's laughter rang out in her mind, a warm and familiar sound that washed over her like a soothing balm. "Just thought I'd check in on my favourite High Lady," he replied, his tone light and teasing. "And it seems I've caught you at a rather... opportune moment."

YN couldn't help but chuckle at the irony of the situation. Leave it to Rhysand to appear just when she needed a distraction the most.

"Opportune is one way to put it," she replied, her frustration giving way to amusement as she considered the absurdity of the situation. "I suppose you're enjoying the show?"

Rhysand's laughter echoed in her mind once more, a sound that warmed her heart and eased the tension that had been building within her. "Immensely," he admitted, his tone tinged with amusement. "But in all seriousness, YN, you've got this. I have every confidence in you."

His words were like a lifeline, a reminder that she wasn't alone in this struggle, and that even in her moments of doubt, she could always count on the support of her friends.

"Thank you, Rhysand," she replied, her voice filled with gratitude. "I needed that."

With Rhysand's encouragement ringing in her ears, YN squared her shoulders and returned her focus to the task at hand. With renewed determination, she dove back into her speech, ready to conquer her frustrations and deliver a performance that would do justice to her title as High Lady of the Court of the Long Lost Gods.

As YN struggled with her speech, Rhysand's voice once again intruded into her thoughts, his suggestion cutting through the frustration like a ray of sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

"Hey, YN," he murmured telepathically, his tone conspiratorial. "What do you say we ditch the speech altogether? I know a much more enjoyable way to spend the evening."

YN's eyebrows furrowed in surprise at Rhysand's proposal, her mind racing with the implications of his suggestion. It was a tempting offer, to be sure—escaping the confines of the Court of the Long Lost Gods for a night of freedom and revelry in the Night Court. But she knew she couldn't simply abandon her responsibilities, not when she had a duty to fulfill as High Lady.

"I don't know, Rhys," she replied hesitantly, torn between her desire for adventure and her sense of duty. "I can't just leave without giving my speech. It wouldn't be right."

Rhysand's voice was gentle but insistent as he pressed his case. "You've been stressing over that speech for hours, YN," he pointed out. "And besides, who's to say we can't have a little fun before getting back to business? Trust me, it'll be worth it."

YN chewed on her lower lip, torn between her sense of obligation and the allure of Rhysand's proposition. The thought of slipping away into the night, of leaving her worries and responsibilities behind—even if just for a few hours—was undeniably tempting.

"Is there any chance you can slip past the guards?" Rhysand inquired, his voice tinged with hopeful anticipation. "I'll meet you at the edge of the woods, and from there, it's a straight shot to the Night Court. What do you say?"

YN hesitated for only a moment before making her decision. With a sense of exhilaration building within her, she replied, "Okay, Rhys. Let's do it. Meet you at the edge of the woods."

And with that, she made up her mind—ready to embrace the adventure that awaited her beyond the confines of the Court of the Long Lost Gods, and eager to reunite with her friends for a night of laughter, camaraderie, and the promise of endless possibilities in the Night Court.

With a racing heart and a sense of excitement coursing through her veins, YN cautiously made her way through the corridors of the castle, her steps light and deliberate as she sought to evade the watchful eyes of the guards. Every creak of the floorboards sent a shiver down her spine, every shadow cast by flickering torchlight seemed to loom ominously in her path.

She moved with the stealth of a seasoned predator, her senses attuned to the slightest sound or movement that might betray her presence. Each corner turned, each door passed sent a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, fueling her determination to reach her destination undetected.

As she slipped through the castle's halls like a ghost in the night, YN couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of her surroundings—the ornate tapestries adorning the walls, the intricate carvings that adorned the doorways, the soft glow of candlelight that illuminated her path. Yet, even as she admired the grandeur of her surroundings, her thoughts remained fixed on the task at hand—the tantalizing promise of freedom that lay just beyond the castle walls.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of tense anticipation, YN reached the outer courtyard of the castle, her heart pounding in her chest as she surveyed her surroundings. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the city below, while the distant sounds of revelry drifted on the night breeze—a siren call beckoning her to join in the festivities.

With a quick glance over her shoulder to ensure she hadn't been followed, YN slipped through the castle gates and out into the bustling streets beyond. The city was alive with activity, the air thick with the scent of spices and laughter as people moved about their business, unaware of the secret mission unfolding in their midst.

Heart pounding with a heady mixture of excitement and apprehension, YN navigated the winding streets of the city with practiced ease, her senses sharp and alert as she sought to avoid any unwanted attention. She moved with purpose and determination, her steps quickening as the edge of the woods loomed in the distance—a beacon of freedom that called out to her with irresistible allure.

And as she disappeared into the shadows of the night, leaving the castle and the city behind her, YN couldn't help but feel a surge of exhilaration coursing through her veins—a sense of liberation that filled her with a renewed sense of purpose and determination. For tonight, she was not just the High Lady of the Court of the Long Lost Gods—she was a woman on a mission, ready to embrace the adventure that awaited her beyond the confines of her gilded cage.

As YN ventured further from the castle and deeper into the night, she found herself drawn inexorably towards the looming shadows of the dark woods. The dense canopy overhead cast the forest floor in a cloak of inky darkness, the branches overhead intertwining like gnarled fingers reaching out to ensnare the unwary.

With each step she took, the air grew thick with a palpable sense of foreboding, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance. Yet, despite the eerie atmosphere that surrounded her, YN pressed on, her determination unyielding as she ventured deeper into the heart of the woods.

The ground beneath her feet grew soft and spongy, the earth damp with the remnants of a recent rain, as she made her way through the tangled undergrowth. Shadows danced and shifted in the dim light, playing tricks on her mind as she navigated the labyrinthine pathways that crisscrossed the forest floor.

As she moved deeper into the heart of the woods, YN couldn't shake the feeling of being watched—a sensation that sent a shiver down her spine and quickened her pace. Yet, even as the darkness threatened to envelop her, she pressed on, driven by a sense of purpose and determination that refused to be extinguished.

With each step she took, the woods seemed to close in around her, the trees looming ominously overhead like silent sentinels guarding some long-forgotten secret. Yet, despite the sense of unease that prickled at the edges of her consciousness, YN forged ahead, her resolve unyielding as she ventured deeper into the unknown.

And as she disappeared into the depths of the dark woods, her footsteps echoing softly in the stillness of the night, YN couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through her veins. For though the path ahead was shrouded in darkness and uncertainty, she knew that it was a journey she must undertake.

As YN ventured deeper into the heart of the dark woods, a sense of unease settled over her like a heavy cloak. The shadows seemed to twist and coil around her, whispering secrets that sent a chill down her spine. Every rustle of leaves, every snap of a twig underfoot, seemed to reverberate through the stillness of the night, amplifying her sense of vulnerability.

With each passing moment, the feeling of being watched intensified, prickling at the back of her neck like a thousand invisible eyes boring into her very soul. It was a sensation that made her skin crawl, that set her heart racing with a primal instinct to flee.

Yet, despite the rising tide of fear that threatened to overwhelm her, YN pressed on, her footsteps quickening as she sought to escape the oppressive atmosphere that surrounded her. Each step she took seemed to echo louder in the silence of the night, a steady rhythm that drove her forward with renewed urgency.

As she pushed herself to move faster, to put as much distance between herself and the oppressive weight of the woods as possible, YN couldn't shake the feeling that something lurked just beyond the edge of her vision—a presence that watched and waited with bated breath.

With every fiber of her being screaming for her to flee, YN pushed herself to run faster, to outrun the suffocating darkness that threatened to swallow her whole. Her heart hammered in her chest, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she raced through the tangled undergrowth, her senses on high alert for any sign of danger.

Panic surged through her veins like wildfire, driving her forward with an urgency born of primal instinct.

Branches snagged at her clothing, thorns scratched at her skin, but she paid no heed to the pain. All that mattered was escape, escape from the unseen terror that hunted her through the darkness.

With each frenzied footfall, YN's mind raced with desperate thoughts. Fear clutched at her throat like a vice, choking off her breath as she fought to outrun the shadowy menace that pursued her relentlessly.

In her terror-stricken state, YN found herself calling out, her voice echoing through the eerie stillness of the woods. "Rhys!" she cried out, her voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Rhys, please, hear me!"

She prayed that somehow, someway, her telepathic plea would reach Rhysand, her friend, her ally, her beacon of hope in the darkness. She clung to the hope that he would hear her, that he would come to her aid and rescue her from the clutches of whatever malevolent force lurked in the shadows.

But as she ran, her footsteps echoing like thunder in the silence of the night, YN couldn't shake the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach—that she was alone, that no one would come to save her from the nightmare that pursued her with unrelenting determination.

With each passing moment, her strength waned, her limbs heavy with exhaustion as she pushed herself to the brink of collapse. But still, she ran, her will to survive outweighing the overwhelming terror that threatened to consume her whole.

And as she disappeared deeper into the heart of the dark woods, her cries for help swallowed by the oppressive silence of the night, YN knew that she was in a fight for her life—a fight she couldn't afford to lose.

As YN's frantic footsteps pounded against the forest floor, her lungs burning with exertion, her foot caught on a hidden root, sending her crashing to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Panic surged through her as she scrambled to her feet, only to find herself frozen in terror as a pair of glowing eyes emerged from the shadows, fixating hungrily on their prey.

But just as the beast lunged forward, ready to strike, a strong arm encircled YN's waist, pulling her back from the brink of danger. Startled, she turned to find herself face to face with Rhysand, his expression a mixture of concern and apology.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner," he murmured, his voice laced with regret as he helped her to her feet. "I should have been here to protect you."

Relief flooded through YN as she leaned into Rhysand's reassuring embrace, grateful for his timely intervention. Yet, even as she sought solace in his presence, the danger still lurked just beyond the edge of their sanctuary.

With a fierce battle cry, Azriel and Cassian emerged from the shadows, their weapons drawn as they faced off against the beast that threatened to tear them apart. Their movements were fluid and precise, their years of training evident as they fought with a determination born of necessity.

As the clash of steel rang out through the forest, YN watched with bated breath, her heart pounding in her chest as she prayed for her friends' safety. With each strike, each parry, they seemed to gain the upper hand, driving the beast back with a relentless fury.

And then, with a final, decisive blow, the creature let out a guttural roar of defeat, retreating into the darkness from whence it came. Panting with exertion, Azriel and Cassian turned to join Rhysand and YN, their faces weary but triumphant.

"We've got you, YN," Cassian said, his voice filled with reassurance as he clasped her shoulder in a show of solidarity. "We'll always have your back."

With a grateful nod, YN allowed herself to be enveloped in the warmth of her friends' embrace, knowing that no matter what dangers lay ahead, they would face them together, united in their bond of friendship and unwavering loyalty. And as they stood together in the aftermath of the battle, YN couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the strength and courage of those who stood by her side, ready to protect her at all costs.

As the tension of the moment began to ease, YN let out a long sigh of relief, her heart still racing from the adrenaline-fueled encounter with the beast. With a rueful shake of her head, she couldn't help but let out a half-hearted chuckle as she muttered, "I am never going out with you guys AGAIN."

Her words hung in the air for a moment, the weight of their shared ordeal softened by the hint of levity in her tone. And then, as if on cue, Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian erupted into laughter, the sound echoing through the forest like a chorus of joyous relief.

"Oh, come on, YN," Rhysand said between laughs, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

Azriel nodded in agreement, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "Besides," he added, his voice tinged with amusement, "where's the fun in staying out of trouble?"

Cassian grinned, slinging an arm around YN's shoulders in a gesture of camaraderie. "Exactly," he chimed in. "Besides, what's life without a little excitement?"

Despite herself, YN couldn't help but smile at their infectious enthusiasm, the tension of the moment dissipating like mist in the morning sun. With a playful roll of her eyes, she leaned into their embrace, her heart lighter than it had been in hours.

"Fine," she conceded with a mock sigh. "But next time, let's try to avoid getting eaten by giant forest monsters, okay?"

The laughter that followed was like music to her ears, a symphony of friendship and camaraderie that filled her with a sense of belonging unlike anything she had ever known. And as they stood together, basking in the warmth of each other's company, YN couldn't help but feel grateful for the bonds that united them—a bond that transcended danger and adversity, a bond that would endure for a lifetime and beyond.

Tagging some:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@kmc1989

@djs8891

@hardballoonlove

@callsign-dexter

@senawashere

@hookslove1592

@rosiahills22

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Dumbledore is a Manipulative Piece of Shit: Part 2/?

The second installment in one one of my favorite subjects when it comes to Harry Potter theories. And this time:

Fidelius Charms, Secret Keepers, and Sirius Black's Trial

So, in my former post in this series, I mentioned I had more to say about the question of why would Dumbledore want Sirius to be arrested and placed in Azkaban? How could I even make this claim that Dumbledore planned Sirius' fall?

Well, here we are, me and my collection of book qutes:

Exhibit 1: He planned for Harry to go to the Dursleys

‘Give Harry ter me, Hagrid, I’m his godfather, I’ll look after him —’ Ha! But I’d had me orders from Dumbledore, an’ I told Black no, Dumbledore said Harry was ter go ter his aunt an’ uncle’s. Black argued, but in the end he gave in. Told me ter take his motorbike ter get Harry there. ‘I won’t need it anymore,’ he says. “I shoulda known there was somethin’ fishy goin’ on then. He loved that motorbike, what was he givin’ it ter me for? Why wouldn’ he need it anymore? Fact was, it was too easy ter trace.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 206)

I quoted this already, but this is very damning evidence. It means Dumbledore planned for Harry to live with the Dursleys completely disregarding Sirius, even when he wasn't guilty.

"But wait!" You might cry, "he thought Sirius was the secret keeper so the moment he knew James and Lily died he figured he was guilty"

That could explain it, well, except...

Exebit 2: Dumbledore Knew Sirius was Innocent

He didn't think Sirius was a threat:

“Hagrid,” said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. “At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?” “Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir,” said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. “Young Sirius Black lent it to me. I’ve got him, sir.” “No problems, were there?”

(Philosopher's Stone, page 13)

He shows no concern over Hagrid meeting Sirius, nor is he worried Sirius would go after Harry (considering he left him on the doorstep of the Dursleys. Outside. In November. Merlin, Dumbledore's awful)

Throughout Prisoner of Azkaban, Dumbledore knew Sirius was innocent before Harry and Hermione told him. In Prisoner of Azkaban, after Harry and Hermione reveal everything they learned about Sirius in the shack to Dumbledore in the Hospital Wing, he believes them immediately. He does not ask for proof. He does not question them further. No, just their word is enough:

“But you believe us.” “Yes, I do,” said Dumbledore quietly. “But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic. . . .

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 393)

Dumbledore is lying here twice. Once, because he always knew Sirius was innocent and always planned to send Harry and Hermione to save him. and twice because at this point in the books he is the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot — the highest court and legislative body in magical Britain — and he doesn't have the power to get Sirius a trial?

And how do I know he always planned to send them back in time? Well, when Harry and Hermione do go back in time, there are two interesting occurrences I'd like to mention:

They were still ten feet away from the forest, in plain view of Hagrid’s back door. “One moment, please, Macnair,” came Dumbledore’s voice. “You need to sign too.” The footsteps stopped.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 401)

“Where is it?” said the reedy voice of the Committee member. “Where is the beast?” “It was tied here!” said the executioner furiously. “I saw it! Just here!” “How extraordinary,” said Dumbledore. There was a note of amusement in his voice.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 402)

Both these scenes happen during the hours Harry and Hermione went back to. And, due to how time travel works in Harry Potter, you don't really change anything when you go back in time because you already went back in time, so everything happens the same.

The fact Dumbledore is aware of Harry and Hermione time traveling earlier in the day before he told them to do so and even helps them suggests he always planned this. He always planned for them to set Sirius and Buckbeak free. Which is why he never worried for either.

So Dumbledore knew Sirius was innocent, which actually leads nicely to a big question:

Who cast the Fidelius Charm?

Let's start by collecting all we know about how the Fidelius Charm works. I explained this in the first post as well, but I'll give an overview here anyway.

As Professor Flitwick says:

"an immensely complex spell ... involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find -- unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it." 

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 205)

The Fidelius Charm was a complex spell that sealed a phrase, a secret within a person. As I already covered, the phrase that hid the Potters included only James and Lily, as Harry was yet to be born. We also know for certain Peter Pettigrew was the Secret Keeper. But we are left with a very important question— who cast the spell?

Peter Pettigrew wasn't known as the most talented wizard and we are supposed to believe he succeded in casting a complex and advanced spell like the Fidelius Charm to a satisfactory level under the pressure of already being a spy?

“Pettigrew . . . that fat little boy who was always tagging around after them at Hogwarts?” said Madam Rosmerta. “Hero-worshipped Black and Potter,” said Professor McGonagall. “Never quite in their league, talent-wise. I was often rather sharp with him. You can imagine how I — how I regret that now. . . .” She sounded as though she had a sudden head cold.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 207)

Professor McGonagall blew her nose and said thickly, “Stupid boy . . . foolish boy . . . he was always hopeless at dueling . . . should have left it to the Ministry. . . .”

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 208)

No, I don't think that's likely. I think someone else must have cast the spell. And who could it be if not Dumbledore— the man who offered the use of the spell in the first place and who we know continues using it years later?

“Naturally,” said Professor McGonagall. “James Potter told Dumbledore that Black would die rather than tell where they were, that Black was planning to go into hiding himself . . . and yet, Dumbledore remained worried. I remember him offering to be the Potters’ Secret-Keeper himself.” “He suspected Black?” gasped Madam Rosmerta. “He was sure that somebody close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements,” said Professor McGonagall darkly.

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 205)

It means Dumbledore was in on the plan for the beginning, at least, according to what he told to McGonagall.

"Dumbledore's Secret-Keeper for the Order, you know -- nobody can find Headquarters unless he tells them personally where it is" 

(Order of the Phoenix, page 115)

We know Dumbledore cast the spell on Grimmauld Place and was the Secret-Keeper for it.

Even if Dumbledore wasn't the Secret-Keeper...

There was evidence Sirius is innocent...

Prior Incantato can be cast on wands to show an echo of the last spell they cast. It was so easy to prove Sirius' wand didn't cast a spell. This seems to be a known ministry procedure as Amos Diggory has shown.

“Prior Incantato!” roared Mr. Diggory. Harry heard Hermione gasp, horrified, as a gigantic serpent-tongued skull erupted from the point where the two wands met, but it was a mere shadow of the green skull high above them; it looked as though it were made of thick gray smoke: the ghost of a spell.

(Goblet of Fire, page 136)

Furthermore, a Blasting Curse just doesn't work like that. It would not leave a cleanly cut-off finger. It is described as exploding the target, so the crater Sirius was found in matched, but if Pettigrew was blasted with it, nothing would have been found of him — definitely not a finger and bloody cloths that would've burned.

Not to mention Dumbledore is an accomplished Legilemanse. It's impossible to believe he could've seen Sirius and not know he wasn't the Secret Keeper even if he didn't cast the Fidelius Charm himself.

Exhibit 3: Sirius Didn't Have a Trial Because of Dumbledore

Sirius says in Goblet of Fire:

“Oh I know Crouch all right,” he [Sirius] said quietly. “He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban — without a trial.”

(Goblet of Fire, page 526)

Meaning Sirius has never gotten a trial. To him, he was shipped off to Azkaban without even being questioned. I don't think Sirius knows Dumbledore always knew of his innocence.

“It is your turn to listen, and I beg you will not interrupt me, because there is very little time,” he [Dumbledore] said quietly. “There is not a shred of proof to support Black’s story, except your word — and the word of two thirteen-year-old wizards will not convince anybody. A street full of eyewitnesses swore they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence to the Ministry that Sirius had been the Potters’ Secret-Keeper.”

(Prisoner of Azkaban, page 405)

So Sirius may never had a trial, but Dumbledore has given evidence against him, at his own admission. Most likely he went straight to Crouch and put the final nail in the coffin to throw Sirius to the Dementors.

And again, Dumbledore is Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Fudge is hanging off his every word, and this man — arguably the most politically powerful figure in the British Wizarding world during the end of the First Wizarding War and Prisoner of Azkaban — can't get an innocent, falsely imprisoned man a trial? A man who's an heir to a fortune of an old and noble wizarding family? Who are you kidding, Dumbledore?

But why would he do that?

Because a weapon with no ties is a better martyr. Because Harry is more likely to be willing to die without a real support network. And yes, Dumbledore knew he'd need Harry to die since day one. Dumbledore, at least, suspected Harry was a Horcrux, and knew he'd need him malleable and controllable when the right time comes.

“Is that where —?” whispered Professor McGonagall. “Yes,” said Dumbledore. “He’ll have that scar forever.” “Couldn’t you do something about it, Dumbledore?” “Even if I could, I wouldn’t. Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground..."

(Philosopher's Stone, page 14)

"Scars can come in handy" — What an odd phrase Dumbledore. .

So, he knew, or at least, suspected Harry had a Horcrux in his scar, and when Chamber of Secrets came around:

“You can speak Parseltongue, Harry,” said Dumbledore calmly, “because Lord Voldemort — who is the last remaining descendant of Salazar Slytherin — can speak Parseltongue. Unless I’m much mistaken, he transferred some of his own powers to you the night he gave you that scar. Not something he intended to do, I’m sure. . . .” “Voldemort put a bit of himself in me?” Harry said, thunderstruck. “It certainly seems so.”

(Chamber of Secrets, page 299)

He knew for sure.

Harry's life since that Prophecy was made about two months before he was born was tailored for Dumbledore's ultimate plan to end Voldemort. Sirius being sent to Azkaban was part of what needed to be accomplished to get him off the board and put Harry in the position Dumbeldore needed him in.

[clarinartiste]

Character analysis: the gargoyles as a reflection of Quasimodo

[This is based on the interpretation that the gargoyles are Quasimodo’s imaginary friends, and that their traits can give us some insight into Quasimodo and his own mind and personality]

Part Two: Hugo

Of the three gargoyles, Hugo is the most fun-loving. At the beginning, when Quasimodo looks out at the city below, Hugo says “Hey Quasi! What’s goin’ on? A fight? A flogging?” As we see later during Quasimodo’s humiliation during the Festival of Fools and Phoebus and Quasimodo in the gallows in the Court of Miracles scene, many of the Parisians derive pleasure from public displays of mockery, torment, degradation, and death. And it’s a reflection of history too, a lot of medieval people viewed these kinds of things as sources of entertainment for them.

Being as sensitive and caring as he is, Quasimodo most likely would NOT enjoy those kinds of public executions or displays of torture—in fact, I imagine they would disturb and horrify him. I think that Hugo saying this line is more of a generalization of what the people of Paris find entertaining, rather than what Quasi himself does.

However, what Quasimodo does find entertaining is the Festival of Fools. It’s a joyous celebration with bright colors, confetti, drinking, and merrymaking. Hugo enthusiastically says, “All right, all right! Pour the wine and cut the cheese!” Victor mentions, “Watching the Festival of Fools has always been the highlight of the year for Quasimodo,” and Laverne emphasizes Quasimodo’s long-standing desire to join the festivities, saying, “What good is watching a party if you never get to go?”

Quasimodo deeply craves fun. He clearly wants to be part of this celebration—to seek that kind of freedom and enjoyment with the Parisians. During the part where the gargoyles encourage Quasimodo to join the festival, they come up with different reasons that he should attend. Being his imaginary friends, I interpret this as Quasimodo trying to overcome his own doubts. Hugo juggles the wooden figures and exclaims that there will be “Wine, women, and song!” and “Bobbin’ for snails!” He says “Playin’ dunk the monk!” while dunking Victor with a bucket of water. It shows a cheeky, playful sort of attitude towards religious authority figures like monks, and it also reminds me of Clopin’s line “It’s the day we mock the prig and shock the priest” with his Frollo puppet.

(side note: I also wanted to bring up the part at the beginning where Victor chastises Hugo, “That’s what you get for sleeping with your mouth open” and Hugo sarcastically retorts, “Heheh… go scare a nun.” Also, encouraging Quasimodo to go to the festival, he quips, “No, the Pope. Of course, you!” while putting the wooden figure of a clergyman into Quasimodo’s mouth. This might be a bit of a stretch, but I read that Victor Hugo’s original book has some anti-clerical elements, as he felt disillusioned with the institution of the church at the time he was writing it.

Religion can be a very beautiful, inspiring, and wonderful thing. But unfortunately, some people will weaponize faith for their own personal ambitions, and corruption in churches and other religious institutions is a real issue. Perhaps Hugo the gargoyle lightly poking fun at these clerical figures is a subtle nod to that same concept in the book? After all, in this movie, Quasimodo is raised by a cruel man who claims that the horrific crimes he commits are all in the name of God. Even though Frollo is a judge and not an archdeacon in this adaptation, I feel like the point still stands)

Anyway, back to Hugo and his antics. He loves to have fun, acting unabashedly goofy and outrageous. He plays card games (“I’m losin’ to a bird!”) he crushes on Djali, and he messily eats food and smokes a sausage. Hugo is never afraid to get silly, which is especially prominent during “A Guy Like You.” Using things to imitate curly hair, getting dizzy and seeing double, dangling wooden figures in the gallows (some dark humor), acting as a barber and giving Quasi an over-the-top wig, grinning suavely while pretending to be the head of the muscular statue, getting his horns stuck, and dressing up like Esmeralda.

(look at Quasimodo’s amused smile here :)

Throughout the song, Hugo calls Quasimodo “kid” a lot as a reassuring, affectionate term, and he tries his best to hype him up and make him feel good. Quasimodo and the gargoyles bounce on a cloth like a trampoline, again showing Quasimodo’s strong desire to have fun.

Going back to the point about the Festival of Fools, and Quasimodo being fun-loving, it makes sense why he would want to join. The boisterous revelry, bright colors, singing, dancing, and hedonistic nature of the festival must be incredibly appealing for someone like him. Being isolated in the bell tower for twenty years has really taken a toll on him. His upbringing under Frollo is very strict and ascetic—the alphabet lesson emphasizing sin (abomination, blasphemy, contrition, damnation, eternal damnation)

When Quasimodo absentmindedly says “festival,” he betrays his true desires, and Frollo quickly notices. Realizing his slip-up, Quasimodo becomes more anxious and stutters, “F…f-forgiveness.” But Frollo sees right through him, and he presses, “You said… festival.”

With a look of regret and worry in his eyes, Quasimodo covers his face with his hands. He unsuccessfully tries to reason with Frollo, who swiftly and sternly shuts him down.

Hugo is loud and unapologetic—and, deep down, I think that this is what Quasimodo wishes he could be to Frollo. But Frollo has been an imposing figure to him all his life, and he does not feel like he can stand up to him (until the film’s climax)

I also wanted to point out Quasimodo’s internal resentment towards Frollo. At their lunch, when Frollo asks, “Shall we review your alphabet today?” Quasimodo looks down and mutters, “Oh…yes, Master, I would like that very much.” His tone has a very subtle bite of sarcasm, hinting at his bitterness. But Frollo doesn’t pick up on it, and he continues speaking to Quasimodo as normal. In fact, I don’t think it occurs to Frollo to even consider that Quasimodo is being snarky here.

In the grape scene, when Frollo realizes that Quasimodo helped Esmeralda escape, he loses his temper and thunders, “You idiot! That wasn’t kindness, it was cunning!” He violently grabs Quasimodo by the tunic, shaking him and yelling “Think, boy! Think of your mother!” Then, after calming down and clearing his throat, he says, “But what chance could a poor, misshapen child like you have against her heathen treachery…”

With his condescending attitude, Frollo consistently underestimates Quasimodo’s intelligence. He treats him as though he is lesser—and, fundamentally, I don’t think he really sees Quasimodo as a person. Frollo believes that Quasimodo is incapable of thinking for himself, and so he imposes his own beliefs on him. In “Out There,” he sings, “I who keep you, teach you, feed you, dress you” while holding Quasimodo’s face, demanding that Quasimodo be grateful towards him. Ultimately, Frollo assumes that Quasimodo isn’t capable of free thought or free will. And, in his own cruel and twisted sense of self-righteousness, he sees himself as a “savior” to someone he perceives as below him, devaluing Quasimodo because of his physical deformity.

And, VERY understandably, Quasimodo resents Frollo for this. Even if he does not outwardly show it much, he has been accumulating a sense of bitterness for all the years that Frollo has mistreated him. I believe that Hugo is representative of Quasimodo’s desire to disobey Frollo. When encouraging him to go to the festival, he says with a mischievous smile, “Who says ya gotta ask? You sneak out… and ya sneak back in.”

“You could wear a disguise! Just this once. What Frollo doesn’t know can’t hurt ya.” Suggesting that Quasimodo not tell Frollo about his escapade, he encourages him to assert his independence.

Later, in the dialogue leading up to “A Guy Like You,” Hugo holds a deck of cards and says, “If I know Esmeralda, she’s three steps ahead of Frollo and ask out of harm’s way.” He holds up a three of hearts when he says the word “three,” and flips it. When he says “Frollo,” he holds up the joker card.

The implication here being that Frollo is a joker, a buffoon, a fool. It’s a subtle and impudent jab at him that suggests that while Quasimodo might fear Frollo for how controlling and cruel he is, he doesn’t entirely respect him as a figure of authority. Through his imaginary friend Hugo, Quasimodo lightly makes fun of Frollo as a way to “get back” at him, coping with how horrible he is.

I also wanted to explore how Hugo reflects Quasimodo’s feeling towards Phoebus. After Quasimodo forces Phoebus to leave the cathedral, Hugo congratulates Quasi and says, “The nerve of him! Snoopin’ around here, trying to steal your girl!” and “Way to go, lover boy!”

He really encourages Quasimodo and raises his hopes of being with Esmeralda. Later, when talking about Esmeralda, Victor says, “Knights in shining armor certainly aren’t her type”—alluding to Phoebus—and Hugo adds, “And those guys are a dime a dozen! But you, you’re one of a kind.”

In “A Guy Like You,” he constantly references how Quasimodo is unique. He sings, “A guy like you, she’s never known, kid” and “You’ve got a look, that’s all your own, kid.” Hugo also tries to elevate Quasimodo’s self-esteem by comparing him to other guys (read: Phoebus). He knocks around wooden figurines hanging from ropes, singing,

“Those other guys that she could dangle / All look the same from every boring point of view!” (also, this might be kind of a stretch, but the figures being blonde and having shoulder-length hair might be a little reference to Phoebus too haha)

Hugo positively affirms again to Quasimodo, “You’re a surprise from every angle / Mon Dieu above, she’s gotta love a guy like you” (side note: I love the ringing of the bells on that second line, something about it sounds so sweet :)

Immediately after the song, Esmeralda brings an injured Phoebus to the bell tower and she asks Quasimodo to hide him. The kiss scene happens, and Quasimodo quietly cries, broken-hearted. But he still helps hide Phoebus, and after the grape scene with Frollo, Quasimodo expresses doubt about himself, bitterly saying, “She already has her knight in shining armor, and it’s not me.”

But his compassion wins over—he cares about Esmeralda so much that it overpowers his resentment towards Phoebus. Of course, he still feels really hurt after seeing Esmeralda and Phoebus kiss, and so he acts bitter and quarrelsome around Phoebus. I really appreciate this because I think it makes Quasimodo more real and believable as a character. Yes, he is a very sweet and sensitive person, but he’s also capable of being jealous and petty, and I feel like that contrast makes him really interesting.

Phoebus pats Quasimodo’s back and asks, “Truce?” After hesitating, Quasimodo says, “Well… okay,” with a forceful pat on Phoebus’ back (right where the arrow struck him)

Phoebus grimaces in pain, and as they head off to follow the map, Quasimodo utters a simple “sorry.” Phoebus grumbles, “No you’re not.” It’s a funny exchange, and another example of Quasimodo being bitter. Like I said before—although he is an overall kind and gentle person, he also has moments of spite, and I think these add some wonderful nuance to his character.

In conclusion, as an imaginary friend, Hugo reflects Quasimodo’s sense of humor, his fun-loving nature, his desire for independence, and his potential for irreverence. While Quasimodo is overall a very loving and gentle person, he also harbors resentful feelings towards Frollo, and a grudge against Phoebus (the latter fading away as the two develop a stronger trust and friendship :)

[novorehere]

Bite-Sized Tidbits:

A snapshot of what life might look like with the seven avatars of sin. Contains a lot of fluff, a little angst, and soft/safe vore with you and the seven Obey Me! brothers. I’ve been working on this on and off for quite a while now, so I hope you enjoy.

Word count: 2096. Written for Vore Day, 2023

—

—

Pride

“I can give you your punishment now, or we can wait until later.”

The edges of the demon’s lips crept up into the beginnings of a smirk. All without breaking his gaze from the stack of documents which he straightened against his desk with a tap tap tap.

“However, I will be leaving for tea with Lord Diavolo as soon as my work is finished. So unless you’d like to spend the evening with Barbatos’ chiffon cake, I’d recommend making up your mind in a timely manner.”

Both of you knew very well that “punishment” wasn’t the right word. Lucifer’s infrequent office calls were less of a punishment and moreso a game, an unspoken routine in which you continuously tested the Avatar of Pride’s patience by indulging his younger brothers’ schemes.

It was a game that toyed with the balance of power, one where you pretended like he couldn’t just shrink you down whenever he wanted and that you couldn’t order him to stop with a single word. It was a game that indulged his pride, one that Lucifer would always win in the end.

It was only a matter of minutes before you were seated in his gloved palm. His ruby eyes lording over you with a gaze that anyone else would find annoyingly high-handed. But after playing his game for so long, to you the affection hiding behind them was obvious.

“Are you ready then, my Lamb?”

He was the morning star, eldest of the seven rulers of the underworld.

Yet despite all of this, Lucifer knew it was you who had him utterly wrapped around your little finger.

—

Greed

Reclining his head against the arm of his couch, the Avatar of Greed kissed his fingertips in mock satisfaction at the burp that rolled up his throat. A barely audible complaint of “gross” only caused him to chuckle and pat his stomach triumphantly.

“Maybe ya shoulda thought about that before bein’ so damn filling.”

A sound like “Guh” escaped the demon’s mouth as a swift kick to his liver interrupted his musings.

“Oi! The Great Mammon’s gonna start chargin’ 10,000 Grimm for damages every time ya do that!” Ya oughta learn some basic respe-”

And there it was, the familiar flutter of tiny fingers rubbing circles into him from inside. Perhaps it was your way of saying sorry… though more likely you just wanted to shut him up. It was annoying how easily you could reduce him to a blushing mess without uttering a single word.

“Hey… ‘s not fair. You’re playin’ dirty…”

Mammon rolled onto his side in an uncharacteristically gentle motion. He couldn’t help sneaking an indulgent glance at the scene reflected in his mirror. There he was, splayed out amongst piles of his belongings with his shirt ridden up and his belly rounded in his lap. If any of his brothers saw him like this, he would never hear the end of their teasing. But luckily for Mammon, not even you could know the way his face became soft as he teased a finger around his navel too gently for you to feel.

“Why’d ya stop? C’mon, now… keep goin’.”

It didn’t matter how much Mammon gambled away or how many centuries it had been since he’d hit the jackpot at the casino. When he was with you, Mammon felt like the luckiest demon in the three realms.

But sometimes it was hard to put it into words. Which is exactly why he treasured moments like these, the moments where his greed got the better of him. The moments where he could steal you away to be his and his alone.

After all, it was much easier to express how madly in love with you he’d become when he didn’t have to meet you face to face.

—

Envy

“You know, this is just like that one scene in ‘My Life as a Shut-In Reincarnated as a Worker in the Shopping Mall Dimension’ where Prince Alfonso goes to the food court kingdom and-”

Leviathan groaned, burying his face into his body pillow as if that could somehow hide him from the voice in his middle.

“You can’t use my own otaku tactics against me, it’s… *hic-* it’s not fair!!”

Your muffled laughter reverberated off the walls of his bathtub, accompanied by the occasional hiccup and the tip of a serpentine tail nervously thumping against porcelain.

He didn’t mean for his horns to sprout from his head when you tried to leave his room that night. He didn’t mean for a serpentine tail to wrap around your ankle, wordlessly begging you to stay. And he certainly didn’t mean for his stomach to loudly vocalize the thoughts that had been plaguing his mind the entire night. What was this, some sort of tropey romance manga?

But here he was, face as red as a bouquet of queen of jealousy and stuffed to the (decidedly metaphorical) gills in his own bathtub. The Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, reduced to a blushing, hiccuping mess. And he had nobody but himself to blame.

But really, how could he have resisted? Especially with the visions of what could have happened instead playing through his head on repeat. Asmo whisking you away to some club filled with normies who could actually hold a real conversation, Mammon snatching you up for an unauthorized night drive in his Demonio 666 Lexura, Beel getting a little too peckish and… he couldn’t bear to think about it.

Leviathan knew wanting to be your one and only was unreasonable. He knew that he was a terrible, horrible friend for thinking these thoughts and becoming so troubled at the prospect of anyone else showing you affection. That no one would ever want to be with a miserable, pathetic joke of a shut-in that wasn’t worth the scum in Henry’s tank-

But as soon as they had come, the negative thoughts washed away like a speck in the ocean as you snuggled closer to his hand, a muffled voice reassuring him that there was no place you’d rather be tonight.

—

Wrath

“With a flourish the detective tipped his hat to the dame, as he disappeared into the evening fog like the curls of smoke which danced from his pipe…”

The demon’s inner monologue was cut short as a violent squirming sensation roused him from his novel. Your ears detected the unmistakable sound of a huff and a book closing, muffled by layers of flesh and fabric.

“Restless as ever, I see…”

Normally, Satan would be more than offended to have his attention ripped from the pages of a good book. But this time the annoyance that swelled in his chest turned not into rage, but affection as the fire settled in his stomach and melted away… You tended to have that effect on him.

The blonde sighed fondly, gazing down at the bump in his sweater.

“…Would you like me to read aloud to you? Perhaps that will help you settle some.”

Pulling the covers up a bit higher around his navel, he tucked them in snugly around his sides. A rare smile crossed Satan’s face as he admired his handiwork. The man reached over to his nightstand, finding there exactly what he was looking for in the dim light. A paperback atop the haphazard piles of hardcovers strewn about, placed there with care as not to crease the art on the cover he knew you loved so much.

With both of you tucked in for the night, it was easier than ever to melt into the gentle rumble of his voice.

“Our story begins in a world of monsters…”

—

Lust:

Asmodeus knows that true beauty comes from within. How could it not, when the skin of the human that emerges from his lips always feels so much softer and smoother than before? He makes sure to bring it to your attention every time, doting over how the glow of his inner beauty rubs off on you so easily. Despite everything, he thinks you look so gorgeous lying in his palm. Layers of mucus, tired bags under your eyes, and all.

But sometimes it’s hard to feel beautiful inside or out with wings dyed black and pointed horns replacing the light of your halo.

—

A delicate, painted fingertip wipes a stray bead of drool from your face. The other hand is busy at your head, gently combing the tangles from your still-damp hair with the tiniest heart-shaped hairbrush. Asmodeus had been ecstatic the day it arrived, practically bowling over Levi before snatching the Akuzon package from his arms with a squeal.

It was a ritual at this point, the way he pampered you after letting you out. Swaddling you in a soft, lilac-scented hand towel warmed by the gentle breeze of his hairdryer, wiping you clean as he hummed a familiar tune.

“Baby, you want my love


No matter who you are


I want you to show me


I fell in love with someone


Besides myself for the first time”

He didn’t need to be the “Jewel of the Heavens” with you as his jewel, a precious pearl to tuck away beside his heart where all the things he loves live.

And he had so, so much love to give.

—

Gluttony

Beelzebub was on the verge of snapping when you came to him.

He was breathing heavily when you found his monstrous, horned silhouette hunched over the empty refrigerator. Frightened eyes were glazed over with a hunger that threatened to swallow you up with their very gaze. His mouth opened in a silent plea, perhaps an apology, but it was drowned out by the roar of his stomach.

Sometimes it felt as if no amount of food could put out the fire that raged within him. The burning sensation could only be briefly dulled by each cooling mouthful that slid down his throat. But then it was gone, claimed by the emptiness inside him that demanded “more.”

But you… you were different.

Simply being around you made him feel full, and for that he was ever grateful. But sometimes he needed more than a feeling. He needed to be sure you were there, to know that you were alive. To feel the weight of that missing piece that left him the day that he fell.

But despite what he needed, he still required your explicit permission to take it.

“…Can I?”

“You may.”

With your words, Beelzebub gave himself over to his gluttony. It was primal, animalistic… but one thing was for certain.

No demon in hell could devour you as lovingly as he did that night.

—

Sloth

Beneath the attic room comforter, an incoherent mumble could be heard from a demon-sized lump in the sheets.

Belphegor rolled onto his stomach as he nestled deeper into his nest of blankets. It didn’t take long at all for a lazy smile to crawl across the Avatar of Sloth’s face. Even though you were undoubtedly squashed in this position, he could still feel your tiny hands working their magic just like he had asked.

Oh, how you spoiled him rotten.

It was hard not to with the way Belphegor expressed his desires so plainly. To borrow your jacket to use as a pillow, to keep quiet to Lucifer about skipping classes, to stroke his hair while he lay on your lap. The others weren’t too thrilled with your coddling, but Belphie couldn’t care less.

After all, they had gotten so much more time with you than he had. They got to know you, to love you, to taste you… all before you even knew his name.

Belphegor was the Avatar of Sloth, not envy. But there was once a time when the unmistakable tingling warmth of his twin indulging in you left the bitter aftertaste of jealousy on his tongue. It was a strange feeling, his brother’s affection for a human. One that, until recently, he couldn’t quite understand. And at the time, he had no desire to.

Nowadays the sensation was far from unwelcome. But ever since that night at the castle when he gifted you his pact, Belphegor had found that he much preferred having you all to himself in person. All to himself…

A small yawn escaped the youngest’s mouth as mind wandered to his twin. Could he feel it too, he wondered? The phantom weight of your touch?

…Perhaps he’d ask Beel about it later. But for now, he had an extremely important nap to get to.

—

Neither of you were conscious enough to know it, but that night as Beelzebub carried his brother down to his own bed and tucked him in, he whispered not one, but two good-nights.

[sparkysxi]

Fun things I enjoyed about the Fontaine Archon Quest(s):

Spoilers below. Obviously

Bro Furina/Focalors is the funniest archon yet. I’m sorry Venti she’s taken your throne

I like that they had Childe talk about his abyss experience out loud, so now even people who do not have Childe and don’t know his story somehow at this point know what’s fucking wrong with him

I’d like to state that I am a Childe main and stan so all criticism of him is done lovingly

I understand that Neuvillette is literally not human (likely the Hydro Vishap Soverign?) but he is sooooo autistic coded hehe *twirls hair around fingers*

Either way I am pleased with his character

I was really worried I was going to find a lot of the characters annoying, but I was pleasantly surprised. Lyney is actually pretty good, and Navia wasn’t annoying at all (she was the one I was most worried about). Furina is annoying, but she’s more intentionally written to be so I don’t mind. I liked how her voice actress gave her a very specific intonation pattern!

shout out to Malus for carrying Act II

Paimon’s silly detective glasses. that is all

This quest was probably the same level of darkness we’ve come to expect? Kinda weird in the specific artstyle of the game-I would expect a lot grittier style art wise to match with the story, but Genshin is gacha first and foremost. gotta be pretty

And by darkness I mean. Archon ripping away hopes and dreams from her people. People locking up their Archon to keep her from stopping them harvesting dreams to make a new Archon. Whatever the fuck is going on in the Traveler/Dainsleif quest line. I think murder and serial murder is kinda tame in comparison?

Still liked the court scenes though.

The npcs were fucking annoying. Intentionally, clearly, but if I was really the Traveler I would’ve started yelling about how the peanut gallery doesn’t talk in court proceedings.

The Melusines are adorable.

The end of Marcel/Vacher’s case was *chefs kiss* beautiful. I’m glad those girls got their justice.

Also, I looked up “Vacher” at the beginning of the quest line cause I was like “who/what the fuck is a Vacher”. Genshin has pretty specific naming rules so

Vacher was a prolific French Serial Killer. it was foreshadowing.

I am incredibly intrigued by the Oratrice. what is goin ON with that thing.

Glad Childe got to go apeshit. He deserves it. But oh sweetie I need you to go to therapy

I get why he won’t, he’s not about to talk to Il Dottore of all people about his emotional problems.

The last scene in Act II was beautiful.

The Court of Fontaine is a fun city, I love the design and the aquabus is a great way to get around. I’m a slut for art deco

also MULTI LAYERED MAP

[dankusner]

Plano pastor Terren Dames arrested in prostitution sting

A Plano pastor was removed from his position after he was arrested this spring in a prostitution sting.

Terren Dames, 51, who served as senior pastor at North Dallas Community Bible Fellowship in Plano, was arrested May 2 for soliciting an undercover police officer.

According to a police affidavit, Dames agreed to pay the undercover officer $150 for “full service.”

The two met at an undisclosed address, and Dames was recorded knocking on a motel door, the affidavit states.

Afterward, an officer stopped Dames at the intersection of G Avenue and Central Parkway East.

Dames told police he was visiting a friend at the motel, then Dames began having a medical episode, the affidavit says.

Dames was evaluated by the Plano Fire Department, but he declined treatment at the hospital and was released at the scene, according to the affidavit.

Collin County court records show Dames was indicted in June.

Neither he nor his attorney responded to requests for comment Wednesday.

In a written statement to The Dallas Morning News, the North Dallas Community Bible Fellowship said Dames was removed from his position in May due to a “moral failure” and that “sound, biblical doctrine remains a priority.”

“The church is eager to pave the path forward in healing and restoration,” the statement says.

Dames is the latest North Texas pastor to step down or be removed in relation to sexual misdeeds, or what churches have deemed “moral failures” or “inappropriate” actions.

The most high-profile case came in June when Robert Morris, founding pastor of Gateway Church in Southlake, resigned after sex abuse allegations resurfaced from the 1980s.

Morris was accused of sexually abusing a girl while she was 12 to 16 years old.

Also in June, youth pastor Luke Cunningham at Lakeside Baptist Church in Granbury was arrested and charged with sexually assaulting a child.

Tony Evans, a founding pastor of Dallas’ Oak Cliff Bible Fellowship Church, told his church he was stepping down from leading it due to what he described as a past sin.

This month, Ronnie Goines, founding pastor of Koinonia Christian Church in Arlington, was arrested on one count of indecent assault and one count of sexual assault.

Josiah Anthony, lead pastor at Cross Timbers Church in Argyle, resigned due to allegations of “inappropriate and hurtful actions.”

Also this month, Stonebriar Community Church in Frisco removed a longtime pastor due to a “moral failure.”

Tony Cammarota, a former associate pastor at Stonebriar Community Church, “confessed to church leadership of a moral failure,” the church said in an email to congregants.

“He is deeply remorseful but his sin disqualifies him from serving on our staff as a pastor,” it added. The church did not describe the nature of the “moral failure.”

[griefpersevering]

the ripples they cause

Read on AO3 🕷 Playlist 🕷 Buy me a cup of tea ☕

Chapter Twenty-Six: Did You Fall For A Shooting Star?

Notes:

Happy tuesday, everyone!! I'm sorry this chapter is a week late again - this chapter really kicked my ass! But I'm doing camp nano in April so I should finish this fic and then be able to upload 2 chapters a week to make up for it <33

This chapter was one of the first scenes I had in mind when I came up with the idea of the fic, so it was really special (and really hard XD) to write!! I hope you enjoy it :D

Sneak Peek:

They schedule the wedding for Saturday.

It's a quick turnaround, especially while dealing with one of the biggest court cases of the decade, so they end up scrambling to sort everything out before the big day. Matt has never dreamed of a big wedding — never even thought he'd come this far — but even a smaller event involves more event planning than he'd expected.

"That's the invites sorted," Karen declares, barging through their front door on Wednesday evening. "Friends, family, and colleagues for both the lawyer and superhero sides of your lives."

Matt cracks his back on the dining room chair. He hasn't moved for a few hours, and the wood is digging into his spine. "I've sent the request to the court, and I've collected and sorted all the evidence we do have in case they deny it."

"Theo's offered to let us use the shop to host the reception," Foggy adds from where he's lying on the sofa. "Catering and a venue in one, for free! But perhaps not the most glamourous place."

"Is anything in our lives glamourous?" Matt snorts.

"No," he concedes, "but I know you're only really saying yes because you love mom's turkey sandwiches."

"Well, there is one Nelson's Meat that I love more than any other—"

"Woah!" Karen flaps her hands about aggressively, backing up into the hallway. "I'm gonna stop you right there before I learn more about your sex life than I need to."

"Oh, please," Foggy says. "You've seen us—"

"And I wish I hadn't!" she interrupts, her voice going up a pitch. "You two are menaces, do you know that?"

"You wouldn't be friends with us otherwise," points out Matt.

Karen sighs. "You'll be out a maid of honour if you mentally scar me more than you already have."

The reminder of the wedding sends Foggy's pulse haywire again. He's as excited as Matt is, but the stress of trying to sort out their dream day in less than a week is keeping him up at night. But, as Karen keeps reminding them, they've waited too long to waste time now.

The wedding ceremony itself was the first thing they organised. Matt visited Maggie the morning after he proposed, and over the same latte Father Lantom used to make him, she offered to officiate in a heartbeat. It's unusual for a Catholic ceremony, but as long as it's legal, Matt isn't fussed. Nothing in his life has ever been done by the book, so there's no point in starting now.

Unfortunately, her offer has an expiry date. She's moving to Idaho on Monday to help another church, hence the rush to get everything ready for the big day.

"What's left to sort out?" Foggy asks.

There's the sound of crinkling paper as Karen smooths out the list that hasn't left her person since the proposal. "A photographer, entertainment, suits, decoration, a best man and/or bridesmaids, a cake, flowers, wedding vows, and arguably the most important thing: rings."

Matt groans. "Not much then."

"I already have a ring!" Foggy protests.

There's a slight pause before Karen says, very slowly, "Yeah, but both of you need a ring for a wedding."

"I know that," he grumbles. He extracts himself from the layer of blankets and pillows he's covered himself in on the sofa and disappears into the kitchen, rummaging around in the pan cupboard for a minute before exclaiming, "Aha!" and striding back into the living room.

"You're both idiots," says Karen fondly.

Foggy perches on the chair next to Matt, gently opening up his hand and pressing a ring box into it. "I wasn't sure if you were ever going to get round to actually proposing, so I thought it would be best to have a back up plan in case you chickened out."

Matt carefully opens the lid and brushes his fingers over the ring. It's almost identical to the one he bought Foggy; a simple band, maybe a little wider than the one he picked out.

"May I?" Foggy asks. Matt nods. It's a good thing he's wearing his glasses because his eyes are watering already, and Karen will never let him live it down if he cries.

Foggy slides the ring onto his left hand. It fits perfectly. They stay with their hands intertwined for a minute, and then Matt leans in for a slow, passionate kiss.

Even now, when Matt has been allowed to kiss Foggy for nearly a year, openly showing the overwhelming love he treasures for his fiance feels illegal. Holding hands or wrapping his arms around his waist holds the same thrill that leaping across rooftops does, but multiplied tenfold.

He wraps his hand around the back of Foggy's neck and pulls him closer. Maybe one day, he'll have to let Daredevil rest. There'll be an injury that slows him down, or in a perfect world, there won't be a need for him anymore.

But Matt will be fine with that. He'll always have Foggy, in sickness and in health, and really, what else does he need but their love?

Karen coughs loudly and they separate, Matt's cheeks flushing red as Foggy tries to catch his breath.

"Honeymoon," she says, scribbling it down on her list. "We nearly forgot about the honeymoon."

Continue reading on AO3.

[thadeepend27]

your value doesnt fluctuate with your finances, Know Thy Self

It is written so I knew 

Before i knew

Before I knew

When He was barely Brew 

Do DaIsm make Me Ju’ ?

JudaIsm If U listen

 AdVerbin

adjectivin 

All Religion politiccin 

U b 

droolin I b spittin 

Court side Tickets when I’m Sittin

home Team Winnin 

box Seats

Jonah Jet 

Drafted Ova Gifted 

4Eva ima Risk It 

They Was tryna end scene like I ain’t Script it

Drown me In tha Red Sea like I ain’t Split It

Tried 2 up Tha Scope Open Shot still missing 

UnderMine tha UnderDog

Alchemize A hunnit Flaws 

Only risk it All On my mama issa costly cost..

And..

Real Boss finna take a Loss 

Open Shot Still Missin

Yo Hit Man a Quit Man 

I MUST b That bitch then

This VIP n u don’t have a wristBand

Well 

As-salamu alaykum then

Losses? Ima takem then 

Cross em pump fake em 

Yea im Scorin when I take it in….

Girl he so Fine I swea to god we inna hood

Yup 

slidin inna Hood

We was Ridin inna Hood

vibe was giivnnnn 

Vacation

Ooh My conversation

Red Pill Blu Pill

GetChu OutTha Matrix 

How I’m finna sleep

u OutSide

So Dangerous

U like chill Shawty

“I’m So dangerous”

"Look@Me

U&I not strangers 

Must’ve misplaced Ya 

Grateful 4 tha Map u like music 2 my ears 

Hands 2 my tears 

what’s tha odds id retrace ya….

Tried to replace ya 

How I’m finna face Ya

Why u love me 

&I ain’t even getta lace ya?

Baby

Lemme bless u lemme Grace Ya 

Give a fuck about a Bentley

Fuck Tha hunnits fiftys twentys 

Time tha only thing U spending

N 

IMA LOVE U WHEN THA SPINNAZ STOP SPINNIN

Open Shot Still Missin 

Ni$ b goin hard

GuWop No Kitchen

I kno a thug got feelins 2…. 

1 shot I’m hittin….

[cewyllenw]

i know no one cares about hp but can we talk about how fucking unhinged the 4th movie is 

[amaya-writes]

The Setters Reacting to You Tending to Their Injuries After a Game

DAY SEVEN OF DATING THE SETTER: A HAIKYUU EVENT

Notes: ok but taking care of a guy's injuries is such an attractive concept to me and idk why

Warnings: established relationship, mentions of wounds and blood (like very little), hand/face injuries, mentions of first aid things like bandaids and disinfectants and all.

Characters involved: Sugawara Koushi, Kenma Kozume, Miya Atsumu, Kageyama Tobio, Oikawa Toru, Akaashi Keiji

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Sugawara Koushi

"Stop moving Koushi."

Sugawara couldn't help but squirm more at your words, making you sigh and tighten your grip on his wrist as you dabbed his index finger with the cotton ball.

"I can't believe you actually ripped off your nail."

"It's not like I did it myself."

You couldn't help but smile at the offence in his voice, but chose to refrain from speaking until you had wrapped a band-aid around his finger.

It was then that you leaned for and placed a small kiss on the corner of his mouth, followed by another kiss on his lips that had him pulling you in further.

However, the fear of getting caught in the changing room by his team was enough to have you pull away a second later, but not before you placed yet another kiss on his lips.

"Please take care of yourself while you play."

Sugawara swore he felt his heart melt at the concern in your voice, one that had him reaching for your hand with his injured one to lace your fingers together.

"I promise I will."

Sure, volleyball was important, but the reckless abandon he usually felt during a heated moment on the court was nothing compared to the pang of guilt he felt for making you worry, which was why his promise was more to himself than to you.

Kenma Kozume

"I can't believe you actually fell."

Kenma's small pout at your words was enough to make you giggle as you continued dabbing at his nose, only stopping once the dried blood was almost non-existent.

When you had gone to watch the Nekoma boys volleyball team's practise match against Karasuno that day you certainly hadn't expected it to get so intense.

However, the most shocking part was how the cats had won but sacrificed their physical state for it, with Kuroo and Kenma both crashing to the floor in their haste to score the last point.

The sight of blood spurting from your boyfriend's nose had been surprising at first, but your shock was quickly replaced with concern as you led him to the back of the gym to clean up.

Kenma, however, seemed adamant about pretending he never fell.

"Don't remind me, it's embarrassing."

You were quick to conceal your laugh as you got rid of the bloody tissues in your hand, only replying once you had returned to his side again.

"But you still won."

"I did, didn't I?"

This time you actually did let your amusement show, feeling genuinely relieved that he was okay.

Kenma, on the other hand, was too busy replaying his fall and soaking in the embarrassment to comprehend your initial concern, but felt thank for your presence nonetheless.

Miya Atsumu

You shouldn't have been laughing, especially not when your boyfriend and his brother sat before you with a busted lip and bleeding nose, but you couldn't help the giggle that left you as you wiped at Atsumu's bleeding lip.

"Oi, what are you laughing about?"

Atsumu seemed more amused than offended at your actions, but his amusement was quickly replaced with annoyance as he heard his brother reply for you.

"Probably the fact that you fell on your face."

"At least I didn't hit my face in the net!"

The two brothers were quick to begin bickering.

Usually, you would have just stood by and watched the scene play out, but as their fight began to get physical you couldn't help but tug on Atsumu's waist until he was far enough from his brother to not be able to get hit.

"Stop trying to more injured. And you should be more careful when you play, 'Tsumu."

You didn't notice the light blush that coated your boyfriend's face at your words, but his brother certainly did.

"Goin' soft, are you?"

"Shut up 'Samu!"

Somehow, the two found it in themselves to continue fighting, a feat that made you sigh and retreat to the other end of the locker room, leaving Kita to do the rest.

If only you had seen the way your boyfriend practically turned red as he replayed your concerned words in his head, maybe you would have stayed and teased him with Osamu.

Kageyama Tobio

"Does it hurt?"

Kageyama shook his head dismissively at your question, but the wince that followed was enough indication that it did in fact hurt.

You weren't surprised, after all, he had basically split open the side of one of his fingers in his haste to win the last match yet for some reason he insisted on not going to the nurse to 'cause a scene'.

It was clear that Kageyama just didn't want to leave halfway through their practice matches, but his persistence was nothing in comparison to yours.

"Tobio, missing one practice match won't be the end of the world."

He seemed ready to argue back but was cut off by your annoyed 'fine' as you began to tend to his finger yourself.

It was only when you were done wrapping a bandage around the wound that you finally noticed how silent your boyfriend was being, which was a little too silent for your liking.

You couldn't help but feel amused as you noticed the blush coating his cheeks as his gaze remained fixed on your joint hands, only drifting away when he noticed you were looking at him.

"Thanks."

He looked away as he said it, allowing you to plant a small peck on his cheek that not only worsened his blush but also drew the attention of some of his team members, who took pleasure in teasing Kageyama for the rest of the day.

Oikawa Toru

"Honestly, Toru, you're such an idiot."

The boy in question gasped at your words, pulling his hands away to dramatically place them on his chest as he complained about how you should be nice to the patient.

It was only when you once again reached for his hands that he rid himself of his dramatics in order to properly reply.

"Excuse you I had to get that receive to win."

You scoffed at his response, winding the band-aid around his ring finger just a little too tightly as you recalled his decision to set the ball rather than receive it.

"No one asked you to receive it with a set."

Oikawa remained quiet for a moment after that, choosing to tug on your hand until you were kneeling in the middle of his knees rather than beside him.

It was only when he spoke again that you realised just why he chose to increase your proximity.

"You're...worried for me."

"Am not!"

Oikawa giggled at your response, using his free hand to turn your chin upwards so you could look him in the eyes.

"Don't worry, it's cute."

"Keep talking and I'll let Iwaizumi deal with the rest of your fingers."

He did keep quiet after that, but little did you know it warmed Oikawa's heart to know that you genuinely cared about him enough to worry.

After all, he didn't get that sort of love a lot, and hoped you would stay around to give it to him for years to come.

Akaashi Keiji

It had been a while since Bokuto had stopped fawning over both of you and apologising for crashing into Akaashi, but your boyfriend had remained quiet since then.

You weren't one to pry, so you chose to silently clean up his scraped elbow and knee and band-aid his hand, which had scratched against the net.

It wasn't until you were completely done that he finally spoke, but with a voice that was a little above a whisper.

"You don't have to look after me, you know."

Akaashi was accustomed to always being the one to take care of others rather than being taken care of, perhaps that was why he thought of himself as a burden for making you tend to his wounds, even if you were the one who insisted on doing it.

His thoughts, however, were far from the truth and made you cup his cheek to ensure he could see the truth in your gaze as you replied.

"You look after everyone, including me. It's only fair that I do the same for you."

The two of you didn't talk much after that, with Akaashi being too busy nervously contemplating your reply to say anything back, but as you walked out of the locker room hand-in-hand and felt him squeeze your palm reassuringly you couldn't help but smile.

Akaashi was always the one to take care of others, but you just hoped he would allow you to stick around long enough to do the same for him.

[ac-schryver]

Every Obikin fake marriage I read I always expect this one scene, I hardly get it but this is how I imagine this.

Anakin: -super drunk and crying on the chaise lounge like some 18th century heroine wailing that Obi Wan doesn’t love him-

Obi Wan: -comes home to Anakin in the “I just killed my husband” robe- Darling?

Anakin: Wah! You’re gonna leave me and we’re goin’ to divorce and I’ll never see your stupid beard or hear your stupid voice again! -hic-

Obi Wan: -remembering that Anakin told him he’d been a theater major- Darling, that was the plan originally. Darling, how much have you had to drink?

Anakin: Two bottles of wine, and that ain’t the point! You’re gunna leave me and take the kids!

Obi Wan: -sighs- Dear One, you brought Artoo and 3PO into our marriage why would I take them? Also Luke and Leia are biologically yours, why would the courts award their custody to me, after awarding you full custody?

Anakin: that’s what Sabé said that you could do! Because you’re like a gazillionaire! And you’ll get back with Satine, because she’s way prettier than me and my stupid accent.

Obi Wan: Anakin, darling, you’re from Texas, and I find southern accents charming. I’m going to call Padmé about her wife.

Anakin: See you’re already calling’ the lawyers!

Obi Wan: after I put you to bed dear one and have Satine come sit with you. You’ve had a lot of wine, love.

Anakin: quit -hic- quit calling me all those nicknames, you don’t mean em! -wails again and passes out-

Obi Wan: Oh my darling drama Queen, what am I to do with you? Well we did say until Death do us part, my love. -sighs, and pulls out cell- Satine could you come sit with Anakin? Of course Korkie can come over to help, but the Twins aren’t here at the moment, Sabé upset Anakin when she picked them up for Padmé.

[merlinxmagic]

The Grishaverse as Descendants Songs

Rotten to the Core: the Crows. no explanation needed.

Did I mention: ...the Darkling. Or Mal. A close call.

Evil Like Me: Jan and Wylan

If Only: Alina

Set It Off: TGT crew

Ways to be Wicked: the Crows. Obviously.

What’s My Name: NIKOLAI!!! Or even Kaz?

Chillin’ Like A Villain: Kaz, Inej, and Jesper to Wylan (Ben)

Space Between: Jesper and Inej :)

It’s Goin’ Down: Kaz&co. when Jan kidnaps Inej

You and Me: MalxAlina, probably

One Kiss: Jesper kissing Kuwei scene, ends with Wylan at the doorway

Good to be Bad: the Crows

Queen of Mean: the Darkling

Do What You Gotta Do: Jan and Wylan but perhaps that’s a stretch (maybe interrogation scene?)

Night Falls: the Crows at the Ice Court

My Once Upon A Time: Alina

Break This Down: Ketterdam and Ravka, something to do with the Fold?

[mobius-m-mobius]

U know thinking about Mobius who’s all about work and tva and catching variants and eating bland salad is just sad and then his whole life changes bc of loki. Mobius’ very structured very disciplined routine has been shaken to the core and he probably never gets flirted with or be the centre of someone’s attention that doesn’t require his expertise. So when Loki flirts and courts his attentions just bc he’s bored, Mobius doesn’t know how to react, i.e the fixing mobius’ tie scene and u can look how he tries not to REACT but you can see a flicker of curiosity of what is this intimacy? bc he never has that with ravonna and he’s intrigues now for more hence why when loki goes off with sylvie, mobius gets all jealous; a feeling with which he probably never experiences before and thus why it’s funny for us to watch him just let loose and loki who is very much intimate with envy and jealousy KNOWS that mobius is jealous as he tries to deny the whole thing like he would a lover like THERES NOTHING GOIN ON I ONLY LOVE U STOP so yes my point is that, mobius’ mundane little life just gets flipped all over bc of loki and it’s so good

Yes yes yessssss exactly this! Thank you for the perfect summary of how much Mobius deserves someone like Loki in his life 😭💖

Idk if the show really ever gives you the chance to let it sink in that Mobius has been living this routine for EONS and at the TVA even that probably feels stretched beyond comprehension. Endless days after days with reading his jet ski magazine being the only thing to look forward to until Loki comes along 😔

(What's worse is that before he got taken by the TVA he likely already had a full career and was finally ready to enjoy time for himself ;;;;;)

And his reactions to Loki are exactly what make their relationship so intriguing, they each become incredibly obvious about what they're feeling for the other which is so out of sorts for their character before meeting? Loki would've seen that as a weakness in himself and as lead analyst Mobius wouldn't have ever lost his temper, much less because of jealously 👀

Don't think I ever stop thinking about the way he LEANS IN at first when Loki reaches for his tie because that's in my mind every single day but every one of their cafeteria scenes (episode 2, my beloved) are probably my favorite of any ship I've ever had. I mean look at this

He was angry at Loki! Frustrated and annoyed and disappointed over the way he acted during their last mission and didn't hesitate to let him know exactly that but all of a sudden Loki not only proves he listened and did the work but now he's putting on this whole show and how many times do you think anyone's sat with Mobius for lunch and made him laugh like that? They're just these massive dorks with love for each other written all over their faces 🥰

[ceilingfan5]

au where taako is the dragon and kravitz is the prince (reverse paper crowns, bay bee)

listen im incredibly tempted by this. you monster

especially since ive been playing w/ prince krav/assassin taako

first of all, i love paper crowns so much. and second of all, listen. royalty aus are TASTEY. but you know what. fuck royalty

on the one hand it would be insane to do a thing i already did (and with another person @ maggie HEY <3) but flipp'ed. on the OTHER.

listen full disclosure im playing w this with ailem and we have some THOTS

here are some of them. im not sure, like. it feels like there are some discreet aus bein smuched here. HRMM

1. okay okay okay. taako WAS a dragon. he (youngish) got cursed to not be anymore...huge distress. (maybe at this point he also got separated from lup, who was also humanized???) and he went looking for someone to break the curse and they convinced him he needed either like. a certain amount of gold or murders to do the trick and he's like. seems legit. and got trained to assass. you know, the verb,

2. this seemed like a legitimate strategy for a bit. but also like. woof. shit was rouff. poor guy. and like. he didn't know things could be a Lot Better bc he was used to orphan dragon twin life, which was goodish but not the same as good human life? he did Multiple Homicides. maybe let's go with the gold model. he's goin for gold lol. theres a price on his non-scaly head. anyway. he's out there. getting older, struggling to be a person. like most of his attention is on going back to being a dragon and he's like. so mad he has to have a human form and so fucking alone and shit sucks so bad. (meanwhile lup has ended up learning to be human with the castle death cleric/mortician/ ????? death, the, the fucking rq. who is also kravs loving mentor. because i want to take down the monarchy. im fully stealing this from ailem whomst i love. regardless lup is getting trained up in like. synonym for necromancy. barry is there. i know,)

3. taakos getting itchy he's like. gotta be dragon gotta find lup gotta get this over with. what is The Highest Bounty. (guess. too late it's the prince) so he's like coolfine. coolcoolfine. i'll get a castle job. BOOM BODY GUARD, istus, captain of the guard, clocks him immediately but is also like. this bitch is gonna feel loved for the first time and melt. no one can resist sweet sweet kravitz. this is great and safe.

4. you know the rest. taako bodyguards. krav falls in love. taako realizes he's been in love. there's tension. there's kissing. like so much kissing. theres, you know this, there's bed sharing. why WOULDNT i. taakos like hey, listen, the monarchy sucks actually, and krav, is like. woah. too true. i didnt super wanna rule anyway, shouldnt someone the people trust and pick do this. krav would much rather be kissing taako instead of doing politics, shouldnt someone like. fully trained and invested do the fucking job. honestly, listen. you know i love to romantacize, but woof, there is no such thing as royalty that is good. if we're getting realistic. LISTEN. i love the dream as much as you do. but if you start doing the math it's an nightmare. anyway raven and istus and taako and lup and barry are like fuck the system shake shit up and krav is like. oh neat sure

5. there's drama. there's kisses. there's much more than kisses in explicit detail, trust me. there's political intrigue without getting too nastey. there's Events and Parties and probably, listen. you asked me. you came to me, on this night of my day off, but also like a week ago. there's a masked ball and theres a long, long and intimate scene. maybe multiple long intimate scenes. this is my court and you're jingling in it. anyway they take down the monarchy and get taako his gold to lift the curse and he gets to be dragon again and so does lup (there's a whole. parallel plot there) and taakos like SICK. still gonna stick around w my boy in wherever we go into hiding during the full ass revolution so he doesnt get got, but also like. i can be the real me when i feel like it. and control my own destiny and enjoy hugs and sweets and blowjobs also. this is the life. no one could have predicted this.

god damn it. i do not need to write a long fic. i do not need to write a long fic. i,

[olivonie]

biggest fan ; atsumu miya

(1) "maybe he's my laptop wallpaper"

synopsis ; you are the youngest bokuto, and the biggest atsumu miya fan in all history (self proclaimed) so just your luck that a threat from your older brother to go to his game ends in you meeting your celebrity crush, and trying to not freak out, but oh what chaos ensues...

perfumers guide ; is the best friend literally just me inserting into my OWN FANFIC?? W A BOKUTO LOVE STORY? yeah fuck off let me have what i want its my fanfic motherfucker,, u, our beautiful mc, are a fangirl/boy/them/idc,, also i referred to ur friend as ur friend the whole fic, might give them an alias later on but idk for now,, tysm to my loves @scouts-ahoy and my bestie indigo for betaing for me <3 ily guys sm <3

perfume ingredients ; light cursing, rlly funny friend, fanperson-ing???, idk tw atsumu miya/j, bokuto being a butthead brother, gn reader (hopefully it comes across as such), omi being a bad friend/j,, cheesy corny romance movie esc love story <33,, written like a wattpad fanfic so sucks for u

word count ; 1388 words

“I can’t believe he blackmailed me like that!” You cried out, standing outside the building of the volleyball game you were attending.

“Don’t pretend you weren’t gonna show up anyways. Besides, he got us front row seats! Isn’t that awesome!” Your friend of many years squealed, adjusting his shirt before turning to you with a smirk, “Plus~ after, we’re going to dinner with your future boyfriend~” They teased, and you squeaked, chasing after them as they laughed. You both got in line and entered the building, packed full of people as you talked while walking to your seats according to your tickets.

A week prior your brother, Kotaro, had burst into your room in the apartment you shared, jumping on the bed and shoving two tickets to his next game. You had said you would buy your own tickets, since you wanted to be independent and were sick of relying on "big bro ko ko" but he interrupted you, threatening that if you didn’t take them he would tell Atsumu, his teammate, about your “big fat enormous super fan googly disgusting mushy gushy crush” on him and so you begrudgingly took the tickets. You decided to go with your friend, who was more excited to see your brother than the actual game.

“I can't believe you’re a brother banger…” You murmured. Your friend turned to you, a look of mock betrayal on their face.

“Honey Boo Bear! You dare think I’d cheat on you my beloved snookums?!” They said overdramatically and very loudly. You giggled, playing along with their antics with a smile.

“Pumpkin wumpkin! I can see you have feelings for another who is not me!”

“No! My cuddle wuddle baby poo I would never!-” They said, cut off by your laughter, followed by their own. Of course, even if you were pissed at Ko for blackmailing you into going, you couldn’t deny your excitement to see the Atsumu Miya, who had been the apple of your eye since you first saw him play with your brother. You had created a fan twitter for him for christs sake! That fucking enamored. But, even if he was on the same team with Kotaro, you had never met him face to face.

You had dazed off and couldn’t see nor hear your friend, before they had shaken you back into consciousness.

“Oi! The game is about to start, dumbass!” They said, and you turned to look, seeing both teams enter the court. Your friend screamed and chanted when they saw Kotaro, who waved at the both of you with energy filled motions. And then, as if in slow motion, entered the “love of your life.”

He was like a renaissance statue, carved from the finest marble and shaped into this beauty. His eyes were filled with life as he waved to all his fans, and when he swept his gaze over to where you were standing, it felt as if time stopped. It was like that scene from every cheesy romcom movie where the main character’s heart pounded erratically, and just like in a movie, the breath from your lungs was stolen away. Were you in heaven? This is totally heaven right?

His eyes. Oh, his eyes. Like molten gold, the sun's reflection on a lake. Like the sweetest caramel, that you could practically taste on your tongue. Atsumu seemed frozen as well, before Shoyo came over and shook him awake, turning to the court with a single glance back at you.

“Oh my god I think I might die.” You said, practically falling into your companions arms, who raised a brow at you.

“Are you okay? What happened?” They asked, a concerned expression on their face.

“Did you not see?!?! We made eye contact!! For like! A minute! And now I’ve fallen in love with him and I want his children!” You screamed, and they clasped a hand over your mouth quickly.

“One, crowded area, don’t say that shit out loud. Two, what’s the big deal? Weren’t you already in love with him?” They said, tilting their head to the side to look at you.

“Yes but like we’d never made eye contact! And I’m like! His biggest fan!” You squeaked, your voice cracking as you cleared it, looking desperately at your friend.

“How big?” They asked, and you gave an exasperated sigh.

“Maybe he’s my laptop wallpaper..” You murmured, twiddling your hands together. “Laptop wallpaper” had been an inside joke between you two to measure the depth of your obsession. Laptop wallpaper being the biggest, and twitter profile picture being the lowest.

“Oh my god big big…” They whispered, and you two continued to talk over your dilemma as the game went on.

As the game came to an end, with another victory for the Jackals, the two of you ran down the steps with special access passes, also gifted to you by Kotaro, and ran to congratulate the team. There was a sappy moment where your friend jumped into Kotaro’s arms rambling about how amazing he was, as he walked over to you and raised his hand for a high five, which you begrudgingly gave.

“You suck, butthead.” You said with a smile, and he grinned at you, as you walked off to a brooding black haired man, who was staring off in another dimension before you called his name, “Hey Omi! You did great!” You cheered, and he turned to you with a semi-smile.

“Thanks little Bokuto.” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“The least you could do is say my name!” “I think little Bokuto works just fine.”

“Omiiii! That is so cruel and mean! I am going to report you on Stop It!” You said, and he laughed. Kiyoomi has been your friend since high school. You didn’t like the idea of being overshadowed by your brother, so you chose a school where no one would recognize you as his sibling, and bumped into Kiyoomi. Literally. And decided to stick around the brooding loner who preferred to eat lunch on the rooftop away from the hordes of people.

“So, did you totally fitz out when Miya came on court?” He said with a knowing smirk, causing your face to heat up as you cried out in protest.

“I did not!”

“They totally did.” Shoyo interrupted, and you spun around to throw a fake punch at him. He dodged with ease and stuck his tongue out at you, and you did the same.

“Shut up!” You yelled, groaning when the two laughed at you, “I’m gonna wait outside for you guys! And Omi! You smell horrible!” You cried, grinning in triumph at his annoyed face, looking at himself covered in sweat and sighing.

You walked out of the gym, waiting outside the doors as you said you would, opting to scroll through your phone idly.

“Yer Bokuto’s sibling right?” A light voice asked by your ear, which caused you to jump and throw a punch out of instinct. A groan and head of blonde hair that you’d seen hundreds of times in twitter edits and your dreams made you gasp. “You sure know how to throw a punch huh? Yowch,” Atsumu grunted, holding his stomach as you panicked and apologized, to which he laughed, “It’s okay! I didn’t give no warnin’ so I scared ya! I get it!” He said, and you blushed profusely.

You just punched your celebrity crush in the stomach, there goes your dreams of a fanfiction type first meeting. You sighed, putting your hand out to shake his as you introduced yourself.

“I’m Atsumu Miya.” “Well obviously.” You said and then gasped at how rude that must’ve sounded. You were about to apologize again until he laughed. He looked at you with those eyes again.

“Yer real funny! I hope yer goin’ to dinner with us, it’d be totally boring without ya.” He said, and you nodded.

“Of course, I promised my brother.” You said, and he did a small fist bump, before pausing and taking out his phone, passing it to you.

“Put yer number in there, pretty please.” He said, and you nodded, typing your phone number and name. He smiled when you handed his phone back, checking the time before whispering curses, “Fuck, I still gotta change, but I’ll see ya at the dinner kay? See ya round pretty!” He called and you waved goodbye blushing at the compliment and chuckling before the realization set in.

“OH MY GOD I JUST GAVE MIYA ATSUMU MY NUMBER HOLY FUCK”

extra;;

"you are so loud..."

"shut up ko you're fat."

olivonie 2021

reblogs are welcome !! pls !!!!