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#i'm reading the book now and this is more pointed than in the series
thevoidscreams · 3 days
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Room for growth
Chapter: 1 Warnings: none so far (Lorgar might get a bit clingy in the future)
"Do you have more of this series here?" The voice, buttery, rich and warm, washed over me, and I hummed into my tea. Turning, I saw Lorgar holding the first book in a series I had enjoyed as a teen.
"Finished already?" It had taken me days to get through the first book, but Lorgar had only had it since that morning. It was just getting to early evening.
His cheeks tinged red, and he set the book down on the end table by the comfortable recliner I'd gotten for him off Craigslist.
"It was quite a good read, I will admit. Perhaps a tad bit predictable... but I can see why you enjoyed the story so far."
That made me smile. I got up to go to my room, the books were all in boxes in the back of my closet.
The apartment wasn't very big, especially with two people now. But with the new position I'd taken at work. The idea of actually owning a house was looking like a really good idea.
Especially with all the financial aid the government had recently rolled out to families with Astartes and Primarchs in their homes. I had loved having him in my home. Even before the financial aid. Bringing him into my home had made my life fuller. It had made me wonder if maybe Lorgar would enjoy having one or two of his sons to keep him company when I was away. And as I understood it, primarchs were meant to be with their astartes.
I brought out the second volume and went back to the living room.
"So Lorgar.. can I ask you something?"
The short, tan warrior looked up from the place he'd settled and smiled at me. "Of course."
I fought the urge to go to him and scoop him up in a hug. Gosh, he was cute. I mean, if he'd been a normal man, I... I shook my head clear off that notion quickly.
Lorgar waited patiently for me to continue, his vibrant violet eyes watching me.
"You know how I recently got that promotion? Well, with it came a significant bump in my pay, and I was doing the budget yesterday. I think we could stand to have a few more house members. And if we're going to be looking for a proper house here in the near future, I thought that having more rooms might mean we could bring home some of your sons. If you're alright with the idea. I think it'd be nice for you to have some of your gene sons with you."
Lorgar all but leaped out of the chair to bowl into me. Nearly knocking me from my feet.
"That would be wonderful! My hearts have been so heavy without my beloved sons. This would bring me no end of joy." He exclaimed, his face buried in my stomach.
I wrapped my arms around him and froze slightly. As an odd sensation of what I dared to call wrongness rolled over me.
Lorgars' face was buried in my stomach. Just above the highest point of my ilium.
Lorgar sensed something immediately and retracted. "My apologies, I did not mean to cause you discomfort."
I felt a deep need to rectify the situation and did so, taking Lorgar by the shoulder. "Hey, no, I was just startled is all.. are you.. taller?"
Lorgar looked at me quizzically, then down at himself and seemed just as confused as I was.
"I am.. unsure."
I ran the tip of my tongue over the back of my teeth and sank deep into thought.
It was obvious he was, now that I really looked at him. When he'd first come to live with me, his head only reached up to the bottom of my hips. The top of his head had been just a hair above where my leg connected.
"Well. I'm sure it's nothing. I'm gonna get dinner going."
Lorgar nodded, and he gently took the book I'd been holding. He seemed equally lost in thought.
Dinner was quieter than usual, and I spent the time on my phone, googling.
'My primarch is taller than I remember?'
The search came up with multiple results of other adoptive families worried that their Astartes had suddenly shot up a few inches in height.
So I wasn't the only one.
I scrolled till I saw a blog posted by someone I had been following for a few months.
[Hey yall, I gotta say I think Sanguinius and his sons are getting taller!!?!?! And I know I'm not tripping cause the beds I had made for him and his three sons (even if they hardly use them) are actually a bit cramped for them now. Am I the only one having this problem? If he gets any taller I might be looking at having to buy a new house. I don't have the space for three full sized astartes and ESPECIALLY not a full sized primarch. 😑 😰
But I won't give up on my family. I love them so much even if I have to buy a mansion to keep them with me. Please does anyone know what's going on?]
I went to the message tab and found a ton of replies of concerned astartes families sharing much the same sentiment.
I looked over to Lorgar, who was eagerly consuming his second plate of dinner. He ate a lot for someone his size already. I bit my lip.
I'd already offered to bring one of his gene sons into my home. I couldn't take that away from him now.
The next tab I opened was my email and began one to my social worker, Tabitha.
[Hey Tabitha,
I recently found myself with a new position at work in a decent pay increase. I know Lorgar has been lonely while I'm away, and my boss has been cracking down on people bringing astartes (and primarchs) into the office during our busy season. I wanted to know if you could connect me with a potential WordBearer who is in need of a placement. I can provide any financial documents you need just as I did before.] I sent it and got up to put my dishes in the sink. "How's the dinner Gar?" Lorgar hummed around a mouthful of food, nodding his delight of the dish. His violet eyes glittered in appreciation. "Glad you like it."
"May I have the rest?" He asked, always polite when asking more of anything, as if he understood just how much mire he required and felt guilty about it. "Of course you can." And I for my part found it impossible to deny him. After dinner I decided to head to bed early. In the shower I thought about all the posts, that I'd seen and began to worry. After toweling off and getting dressed in something comfortable I got into bed and opened the realtor app on my phone.
I needed a better house, something that Lorgar would be comfortable in, I scrolled for what felt like an hour, ruling places out as I looked for the perfect spot. The door creaked open and I lifted the corner of the blanket, Lorgar got into bed and got comfortable next to me. He rarely used his own bed anymore.
"I emailed Tabitha. I asked her about any of your sons that might need a placement."
Lorgar wrapped one arm around my chest and hugged me as best as he could. "Thank you."
I kissed the top of his head gently. "Of course. You don't need to thank me Gar."
"But I wish to, so I shall." He peaked at my screen. "What are you looking for?" "A new place. If we're expanding our family we may need more space."
He nodded. "That is true. I know you will find us the best space for our family." He yawned and rested his head on my chest getting ready to nod off. "Our sons will need plenty of room." It took me a minute to register his words. As I inspecting the land size of one property that looked promising. "What was that?" I asked. But as usual he was asleep almost immediately. I envied that ability of his. "Must have been a slip of the tongue." I reasoned, it happened occasionally.
I set my phone down and plugged it in. I had the next day off and wanted to take Lorgar out to mingle with his brother. Magnus and his placement family lived nearby and Magnus's placement person had called, asking if we could meet up as his brother was missing him. It was going to be a surprise, but I also wanted to ask If they'd noticed anything about Magnus that was unusual as of late. Yawning I turned into Lorgar, hugging him close. It would be a tomorrow problem.
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I am really curious to see your take on Aric and Japeth's relationship. I mean, the beloved author and creator of the series have addressed this issue with 'in their own sick wicked way they had loved' so yeah it's cannon cool. But I feel like the further implications of this? We saw evil 'unable to love'/ 'only ever have true love'. From what I remember Japeth mentioned Aric more than once, how they would write letters to each other how Aric 'begged' for Japeth to come to him but Japeth never did so and then bro spent the last of his life trying to bring Aric back to life. There are so many implications, the dynamics, the context, everything, but I love how you theorise and explore all sorts of ideas so I can't help but wonder how you view all of this :D.
Thanks for taking the time to read this and have a great day/afternoon/evening/night!
Sorry to disappoint, but I should probably start off with the fact that I don't ship Japeth and Aric. While I like Japeth, partly in thanks to @discjude winning me over, and further recognizing the tragedy surrounding him, his relationship to Aric never canonically does him any favors. And, with Aric, I think I'm apathetic enough towards him that I don't actively hate him; I just don't care about him. In truth, if not for Aladdin's pitiful existence actively hammering on my nerves, Aric would probably be my least favorite character.
The first thing I want to address is that Evil being "unable to love" or "only Evers have True Love" is actually false, despite the many times the series puts forth this claim. Yes, we are explicitly told this "fact" in book 1, but the book's point was to subvert/deconstruct the myth.
First, by the end, with her self-sacrifice, Sophie proved Evil's capacity to love, meaning: Evil being unable to love is just a commonly-held belief in the Woods, not the absolute, be-all, end-all truth.
(And the belief could've been perpetuated by "Rafal's"/Rafal's way of running his institution that literally shapes the Wood's perceptions and the future. Alongside this claim about love, consider the existence of the Doom Room, created to punish a singular mutinous class of first-years, based on a now-revised philosophy about Nevers' learning from harsh treatment and (probably) disproportionate retribution that an excessively stubborn dead man already too entrenched in his old ways never had the chance to change because he died—and this is all aside from the fact proven by the display at the very first Circus of Talents, that Rafal's students did indeed learn better when he finally listened to them and mentored them as an equal in their position (as Fala). In addition, the statement: "Nevers learn from deprivation" similarly reveals how the Woods really do generalize about Nevers—until Sophie, the "exception" and iconoclast, comes along.)
Second, Sophie's non-romantic True Love at some point was said to be Agatha, and I think this established fact is consistently maintained throughout the series, even if other elements overshadow it, so not only Evers can have True Love.
My take on Japeth and Aric is that Japeth's love for Aric, however twisted or sincere it was, drove him to become the Snake, follow along with Rhian's Camelot ambitions and initial staging-terrorism-and-hostage-scenarios plot, and commit all his other, duplicitous, villainous acts throughout TCY, later by his own will, which is a motive I find fascinating (and contradictory about the nature of the Woods' Good and Evil souls, whenever Japeth is set next to the rather grey Rhian).
So, while Japeth's devotion to Aric could be viewed as romantic, it's just not appealing to me, personally, due to the relationship's ambiguous one-sidedness in particular. And, I think I once may've read something about Japeth as a Never fighting for True Love (or his perception of "True Love") and Rhian as an Ever fighting for power (the Nevers' ideal fairy-tale ending) being ironic or inverted in some way. That's also some world-building fodder to consider, or even just another point that could overturn the Rules as we know them, yet again. I'm not surprised by that subversion honestly. Japeth is very much like his parents. Nearly every SGE villain Soman has ever written has been motivated by the pursuit of love, or by the overwhelming force of their own (often obsessive) infatuations (with the exception of somewhat flatter, less-developed, secondary villains, like Aric, Vulcan, Marialena, and Peter Pan).
Also, thanks for the compliment!
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elmonstro · 7 months
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Sir John Franklin looked pretty chill about their resources and possible rescue mission for someone who had to eat his own boots in his last arctic expedition...
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jewishcissiekj · 26 days
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made a new reading list let's see how long this takes
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kenobihater · 8 months
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me: awww YEAH this new fantasy book i bought sounds great!! the reviews are awesome and the synopsis really pulled me it! let's crack it open!
the book: *turns out to be written in first person pov*
me:
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khalesci · 8 months
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will I get fired if I say that I actually hate like 90% of dany's meereen arc
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sassysnowperson · 1 year
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How Not to Read Terry Pratchett's Discworld Novels
With the very exciting fantasy books poll bracket going on Discworld and how to read it is in the zeitgeist again. I figured I would take a crack at adding to this important topic with a guide drawn from my own chaotic mess of a reading journey:
Learn that Terry Pratchett is a fantasy author that several people whose reading taste you admire enjoy. He apparently blends comedy, good plotting, and a world that is both grounded and satirical and you're a big fan of all those things.
Fabulous! Decide to read some of his work.
Go to your local library. Love a good library. You're new to the area, so you're also exploring the library for the first time, too.
You have found Terry Pratchett! Points to you! Pull a book off the shelf at random. It's called The Dark Side of the Sun.
Start reading. Realize that this feels more like sci-fi than fantasy. Sigh in smug superiority about people who get the two confused.
Realize about halfway through that this is not, in fact, a Discworld book.
Nobody warned you the guy wrote other things!
It's still good, tho. Maybe a little rough but this was an older book and the author clearly has potential. Let's try again.
Review his works. The vast majority are Discworld. You are highly unlikely to grab another non-Discworld book. Go back to the Terry Pratchett section of the library.
Oh hey he wrote a book with Neil Gaiman! You've hears of that guy!
Grab Good Omens off the shelf.
Take it home, realize, much sooner, that this is also not a Discworld book. Still enjoy yourself thoroughly. You should read more of this Gaiman dude, too.
But okay. For real this time. Go back to the library and don't leave without *CONFIRMING* you have a Discworld book this time.
Grab a book. Look at the cover. Read the back Discworld! Ha HA! You've done it!
It's called Thud.
You are utterly gripped by a story of a man wrestling with himself, his growing child, the political tensions of a city and extremism that echoes reality beautifully while still being entirely true to itself. It's a story of responsibility and love and building communities and Fantasy Chess. You are driven nearly to tears by the sentence *WHERE IS MY COW?*
You emerge from the book fundamentally changed as a person, and finally understanding what all the fuss is about. You are now a Terry Pratchett reader for life.
You realize Thud was in the middle of a series. That was a part of another series. That explains why there was a feeling that you were supposed to know some of these people already.
You finally find one of those flowcharts and figure out a more sensible reading order.
I always sort of laugh when people ask where to start reading Discworld, because Thud would be first on absolutely nobody's sensible Terry Pratchett reading order. I'm still tempted to recommend it though!
(My actual advice: Going Postal if you love con men being stuck doing the right thing, Wee Free Men if you like YA and smart angry girls owning their own power, Guards! Guards! *and* Men at Arms if you like crime shows with heart and are okay giving earlier work a try (the quality gets better and better, but I think it needs at least two books to get you into it), and Monstrous Regiment if you like gender and queer feelings, anti-war books told in the middle of a war, and/or would prefer a stand alone novel...and, you know, Thud if you want a great read and don't mind some chaos.)
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fangswbenefits · 6 months
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The Arrangement (5) - Confrontation
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Summary: Living under the same roof as Astarion was proving to me more of a challenge than you had anticipated.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: Nightmare. Hurt/Comfort. Innuendo. Heavy use of sarcasm hahaha.
Word count: 4.4k
Previous chapter. Ao3. Series Masterlist
If anyone had suggested a few days ago that you'd find yourself living under the same roof as Astarion, you would have called them delusional and point them to the nearest infirmary for a mental check.
But the wheels of fate turned in mysterious ways, and a mere glance at the man sitting across from you was proof enough of that.
The flames swirling and crisping in the nearby fireplace cast the most delicate yellow and orange tint on his pale complexion as he flipped the pages of a book you had lent him.
You had tried to focus on your own reading, but you just couldn't help but to occasionally shift your gaze to him.
Gods… it was nigh criminal how handsome this man was.
It was as if he had been hand-carved by someone intended on wreaking havoc in the name of beauty.
And, as far as you were concerned, they had thoroughly succeeded.
Suddenly, he lifted his head and he met your gaze dead-on, unblinkingly.
So handsome…
A cold shiver ran up the back of your neck, but you found herself unable to look away. It was as if, in that moment, you had managed to block out everything around you but him. The longer you stared at him, the more acutely you felt detached from reality.
“May I kiss you?”
You blinked a few times. “What?”
His eyes narrowed, one eyebrow raised in sheer perplexity.
“No need to look so offended, darling,” he said with a scoff, rising from his seat and snatching the candle holder from the table to your right. “I was merely asking for this. I apologise if the request is out of the realm of your ‘one hundred good deeds I must perform before I perish’ list.”
You blinked again.
What?
You glanced around, but judging from the lack of reaction from both Gale and Shadowheart, you figured that maybe he hadn't actually asked to kiss you.
Great. Now I'm hallucinating…
He returned to his padded chair with a dramatic sigh. “Honestly, I've seen more light in the deepest corners of the Shadowlands.”
Maybe sleep deprivation was finally taking its toll on you, rendering you delirious.
Regardless, the illusion had been enough to flare your heart, and you hurriedly focused your attention on the book in your hands.
“I had quite forgotten how peacefully silent it can be without having you around, Astarion.” Shadowheart spoke as she tended to a few rolls of parchment and letters.
“Well, you can thank Wyll for that.”
She ignored him. “All you do is complain.”
You felt a storm brewing on the horizon as you lifted your eyes to glance at him.
Astarion let out a cynical laugh. “You're one to speak.”
Shadowheart was now scowling. Deeply.
“Besides, that is a rather disingenuous accusation. Want proof?” he asked, clearing his throat. “So, Gale - what are you reading that has you scribbling about like a mad man?”
The wizard snapped out of his nose-deep dive and brought his quill to a halt with a beaming smile. “Glad you ask, my friend. ‘A Visual Guide to Baldur's Gate's Exquisite Cuisine’. First edition. Hand-signed by the finest chefs in the city. What a marvel, indeed.”
As expected, Astarion looked as unimpressed as ever, but you interjected before he could mouth anything obtuse.
“That sounds rather exciting, Gale.”
He nodded eagerly. “A small guilty pleasure of mine, I must say. I'm taking down some notes, so that I can - hopefully - prepare some delectable dishes for us.”
Shadowheart's eyes remained fixed on Astarion as if awaiting for him to burst at any moment.
He exchanged a quick glance with you before muttering, “Unbelievable.”
“I think it's to be commended that he cares enough to try,” you said sweetly, earning a scornful glare from him. “I can't wait for you to showcase your abilities, Gale.”
“My sentiments exactly, dear friend.”
Astarion chuckled darkly. “‘Abilities’ as in setting the kitchen ablaze, or…”
You shot him a death glare.
He shrugged. “You two are a match made in the hells.”
This had you snap your book closed with a loud thud, eyeing him defiantly. “So what constitutes an engaging reading to you, Astarion? Murderous ploys?”
His lips curled into a devious smile. “Something along those lines. Although I do enjoy indulging in some debauchery from time to time.”
You weren't sure Gale would set the kitchen ablaze with his cooking skills, but Astarion's blunt and crass words sure did that to your cheeks.
Shadowheart scoffed.
“There are some interesting books in my collection,” he continued, clearly enjoying your loss of composure. “I will gladly lend you some… or maybe offer a guided tour through my favourite pieces?”
You needed to change the subject.
Fast.
You were most definitely fighting a losing battle.
This was Astarion's playground, and he would always come out victorious.
“Must you always resort to such vulgarity?” Shadowheart sneered, shaking her head in disapproval.
“I'm afraid the city is fresh out of those who know how to properly enjoy themselves, and we can't all be dullards, darling.”
You cleared your throat. “So, Gale… you're leaving for Waterdeep soon enough.”
He leaned back in his chair. “Yes. If all goes well, we shall have access to the Wish spell soon enough, my vampling friend.”
Astarion crossed his arms. “Finally some progress.”
“Maybe you should be more thankful.” You said with a frown.
“As should you,” he shot back. “No more need to offer your blood to me.”
Fair enough.
“Much to your disappointment, I imagine.” Shadowheart chimed in.
But before he could retort, you heard a rising commotion outside that only came to a halt as the front door burst open.
Lae'zel came through, carrying what appeared to be a very much deceased wild boar across her shoulders as if it was nothing more than a sack of feathers.
She kicked the door shut at once, nostrils flaring. “Tsk'va! What are those two doing outside?”
“House arrest.” Astarion informed.
Bringing the carcass to the kitchen table, Lae'zel locked eyes with you, visibly annoyed.
“I had plans to rescue you from that prison. And I would have had it my way had it not been for Gale and his… morals.”
Gale bolted from his seat, suddenly looking rather distressed. “Lae'zel, we've spoken about this before and agreed not to bring bleeding carcasses into our home.”
She glared at him. “You alone agreed to it - I had no part in it.”
He gave her an exasperated look, picking up a piece of cloth to wipe away the strands of blood that had begun to run along the wooden surface.
“If this falls on the carpet, it will be a nightmare to remove the stains.”
Astarion tutted. “Darling, that carpet is so hideous that being splattered with carrion blood would be a vast improvement.”
You rose to your feet, rushing to join Lae's zel, who quickly placed her hand on your shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.
Your lips tugged into a genuine smile.
To her, this was the equivalent of ‘I am glad you're safe and I care for you’ and it warmed your heart beyond measure.
Naturally, Astarion quickly joined your side, earning Lae'zel's disdainful gaze.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, it was a two-for-one type of deal, wasn't it?” Astarion mocked, turning to you. “Free one criminal and get two on house arrest.”
Unfortunately for Astarion, Lae'zel had little patience to entertain his sarcastic remarks and merely scoffed.
“I would have easily rescued from that prison, you know?” She gave your shoulder another squeeze and you nodded. “Those frail guards are no match for a githyanki.”
“On that much we can agree.” He mused.
She gave him a stern look. “I would have left you there.”
“We fought a giant brain, a scheming squid, and a whole parade of lunatics side by side, in case you've forgotten, my dear nest of vipers friend,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Maybe you ought to show more gratitude.”
You expected her to snap at him, but she merely pressed her lips and gave him a nod.
That would be as far as she'd go, though.
“Well, as much as I enjoy this ‘family’ reunion, I'm off to my room,” Shadowheart said from a distance, already heading towards the staircase. “Please do not maim each other in my absence - there's only so much healing I can provide.”
You chuckled and she smiled warmly at you.
“Say, Lae'zel…” Astarion started, circling the boar with utmost interest. “I would hate for perfectly adequate blood to go to waste.”
The implication in his words wasn't subtle at all, and she groaned. “I thought you feeding on our friend was enough.”
Your stomach lurched violently.
He scoffed. “There is no such thing as ‘enough’ blood for a vampire. Besides, she's the main course… this would be more of an aperitif, if you will.”
Now, you felt positively sick to your core.
A wave of nausea and repulsion gripped you tight.
“It would be a mutually beneficial situation - I save Gale from a mental breakdown, sparing you tue ordeal, and I also get to quench my hunger.”
Gale grumbled something in agreement.
But you felt the sudden wish to be swallowed whole by some magical hole in the ground.
The way he referred to you as nothing more than food prompted a visceral reaction from you, and you feared you might empty the contents of your stomach from it alone.
“Um… I'll go get some sleep… I'm too tired,” you said dismissively, already pacing towards the corridor that led to your room. “Have a good night.”
Astarion called after you, but you didn't bother looking back.
But before you could turn the doorknob, you heard light steps approaching and firm fingers gripping your forearm.
Astarion.
His face was void of any amusement. “You're upset.”
You pulled free from his grasp. “A neat observation. No wonder you're such a skilled rogue.”
His brows furrowed lightly. “What's the matter?”
“It seems that I'm only worthy of your attention when it comes to you treating me as nothing but a meal, to hurl your sarcastic remarks at. Oh - and unless I'm on the verge of death,” you said, counting on each finger.
He seemed quite taken aback, his features twisting into a scowl. “You really adore selling yourself short, don't you?”
“You won't even deny it.”
“Then what sort of attention do you want from me?” He asked, taking a step closer, the sudden proximity catching you off-guard. “Do enlighten me.”
You glared at him in silence for a moment, vaguely wondering how the two of you had gotten to this point in your relationship, where everything seemed so… off.
Astarion was standing in front of you, but it wasn't truly him.
He was there, but not really.
He seemed so detached from the Astarion you had fallen for, and a part of you loathed that you had allowed yourself to get so attached to him in the first place.
Eventually, you heaved a deep sigh as he awaited your reply. “The sort of attention I don't have to beg for.”
His face softened briefly and he parted his lips only to press them close together again as if he had decided against speaking.
Right.
You swallowed hard. “Have a good night.”
The hopeful part of you half-expected him to stop you from walking away as you closed the door behind you, but he did no such thing.
You pressed your back against it, taking a deep breath, feeling as if you had just lost something.
Had you been too dramatic?
Did it even matter at this point?
Maybe it was better off this way.
You moved to scrub your face clean in the washbasin, preparing yourself to get some rest before the morning came.
Whatever was of your relationship with Astarion would have to wait for you to be able to think more clearer.
Slipping into your nightdress, you allowed yourself to fall on your bed and onto your stomach with a muffled thud, wanting to do nothing more than to scream into the covers, but remained still instead.
After what felt like hours of restlessly rolling beneath the sheets, you felt your mind lighten and were able to find solace in the peace and quiet.
That was until you heard a distant voice.
A woman's voice.
Her voice.
“Go on. Bleed her dry for me…”
You felt the mattress dip slightly and your eyes snapped open only to find Astarion baring his fangs.
And then he was on you, pinning you frozen with both hands.
“No - stop! Get off!”
He didn't hold back and you felt a familiar sting tear through your neck, his cold lips sprawling across your skin.
“She's so pathetic. Just kill her. Put her out of her misery.”
“Get off!” You cried out, feeling his weight pinning you down.
He didn't waver and you felt your blood being drained from you alarmingly fast as you tried your best to yank free from his vicious grip.
You were going to die.
He was going to kill you.
“Stop! Please - Astarion!”
Something was squeezing your shoulder and you tried to squirm away from the increasing pressure.
You felt him chuckle in amusement against your skin and that was what killed you first.
“ASTARION!”
The grip on you kept on increasing and you realised someone was shaking you.
“Wake up.”
How was he speaking whilst fiercely feeding on you?
Were you already dead?
Your cries turned into uncontrollable sobs and you felt like breathing was no longer an option.
“Wake up!”
The shove against your shoulder was too fierce this time, and you jolted violently, feeling the pressure on top of you only faintly ease.
“Get the fuck off me!”
You tried to conjure a spell - any spell - that might help you set yourself free.
He called out your name and your eyes snapped open at once, only to see Astarion hovering over you, hand now pressed firmly against your lips, muffling your sobs.
Bergamot.
Rosemary.
Aged brandy.
It was him.
He was there.
The nightmare faded with each passing second, and, for the longest time, all you could hear were your laboured breaths as you struggled to step into reality.
Your eyes were blurred from the tears welling up, and you watched his lips part to utter something, but the pounding in your ears prevented you from understanding a single word.
He eventually dropped the hand from your mouth, staring at you with an understanding look on his face.
“You're safe."
For a split second, you wondered if this was truly your Astarion, and once you asserted that it was truly him sitting beside you, you pushed yourself from the mattress, looping your arms around his neck.
He took you in his arms, gently pressing his lips to your temple.
“You're safe. I'm here and I've got you."
You couldn't stop the tears from streaming down as you pressed your face to his shoulder, seeking any sliver of comfort he could spare you.
The door to your room burst open.
“What happened? What did you do?”
Shadowheart's accusatory tone ground on your already fragile nerves.
“She was having a nightmare.”
His cool hand came to the back of your head, further pressing you into him.
“Oh. Another one…”
You felt your heartbeat soothe and your breathing gradually even out.
But his embrace felt too much like coming home for you to part from him, so you didn't, allowing him to rock you gently in his arms.
“It's become more frequent as of late.” She said with a hint of sadness to her voice.
Astarion kept his lips pressed to your temple, grounding you.
You eventually pulled back from him with a loud sniffle. “I'm fine. I am sorry I worried you…”
Shadowheart approached you, kindness on her face. “Nonsense. I am here for you - we are here for you,” she added, glancing at Astarion. “Always.”
“I'll just try to get some rest… you two may go…” you stammered in between a few sobs.
Shadowheart didn't move and neither did Astarion.
You rubbed your puffy and wet eyes. “I mean it. It will be fine.”
“Very well,” Shadowheart drawled out reluctantly. “But please let me know if there is anything I can help with.”
You gave her a reassuring nod paired with a comforting smile.
She returned the gesture and excused herself, clicking the door shut behind her.
Your gaze shifted to him. “You can leave, too.”?
He scoffed. “No.”
“What?”
“You'll have to stake me.”
You were utterly confused by his perseverance.
“I am fine, Astarion. I am thankful for your help, but… you don't have to stay.”
He nodded. “I don't have to, but I want to.”
Your heart clenched tightly in your chest.
And then your eyes fell to his shoulder.
“Oh, my…” you winced at the sight of the soppy fabric of his shirt. “I'm sorry for that…”
He looked confused at first, but followed your line of sight and smiled. “Was this an excuse to get me out of my shirt?”
His playful jab immediately had you chuckle, rolling your eyes at him.
“Not to mention that I've been covered in all sorts of your bodily fluids,” he went on, earning a surprised glare from you. “This might be my…” he paused brielfy, as if evaluating his options. “Ah - my third favourite, yes.”
You should have known better than to take the evident glare, but you could really use the distraction.
“What are the first two, then?”
You hadn't even realised your nightdress had come undone at the front until he reached out to pull back the sleeve that had slid down your arm.
Glancing down, you couldn't help the rush of heat on your cheeks as your breasts were barely covered at all.
“Blood, naturally,” he said in a low voice, tying each set of strings with unmatched dexterity, keeping your modesty preserved. “And your-”
But before he could reply, you quickly pressed your forefinger to his lips, eyes widening as you felt him smile under your touch and pressing a soft kiss.
You felt as though you might implode.
His hands moved up your chest, tying up the last knots.
“There - all neatly wrapped up like a nice little gift.” He said, amusement coating his words.
He was too good at getting under your skin.
More than you were willing to admit, especially out loud.
“Thank you for making me laugh.” You said truthfully, pushing aside how he had so easily made you feel all heated up.
“I aim to please.”
His words hit you like a thousand knives.
“You're more than that…” You said, wanting to reassure him that he didn't need to resort to honeyed words and calculated moves to create a meaningful connection with someone.
But your statement had the opposite effect, and he frowned slightly.
“Don't. Do not start…”
You swallowed and nodded in understanding. “I didn't mean to offend.”
He shook his head, adjusting the fabric of your nightdress over your shoulders. “You didn't. I merely do not wish to make this about me.”
You were slightly taken aback.
“I know all too well the burden of nightmares,” he explained. “Even if elves don't indulge in conventional sleep, we are still prone to nightmares when we trance.”
Oh.
“And I would hate for you to be plagued like that.”
You lowered your gaze, feeling extremely exposed all of a sudden.
“So tell me, darling, when did these start?” He asked, shifting closer to you. “And why were you screaming my name?”
You felt a lump swell in your throat.
He placed his finger under your chin, and pressed upwards until your eyes met his.
“What haunts you?”
You.
“Can we just… not…” You asked, already feeling tears prickling in the corners of your eyes.
Reason told you that a heartfelt conversation with Astarion was long overdue, but you didn't feel ready.
You still felt too startled and too vulnerable.
He had hurt you in more ways than one, even if unconsciously done at times.
“We don't have to talk about it.”
You nodded, a few tears rolling down. “Thank you.”
“We can push all of that aside, even if just for tonight.”
Your heart hammered fast inside you.
He then cradled your face in his hands, leaning in to press his lips to each cheek, kissing your tears away.
Your eyes fluttered shut as he trailed down, inching closer to your lips.
A shudder coursed throughout your entire body, barely able to contain the anticipation.
Please kiss me…
His thumbs rubbed slow circles on your flushed cheeks and your lips parted as his ghosted yours.
Astarion…
Almost there.
You could almost taste him.
Your hands came to grip his wrists tightly, silently urging him to take you.
Please… please…
As your heart thudded faster and faster, you gasped when he quickly kissed the tip of your nose before pressing his lips to your forehead.
You couldn't deny the overwhelming wave of disappointment that washed over you, even if, deep down, you realised it was probably the best course of action, considering how vulnerable you still felt from the nightmare.
A few more tears spilled over, which he quickly brushed away before pulling back.
“I can stay until you fall asleep.”
Your heart dropped.
Everything was conditional with him.
It was always meant to come to an end, eventually.
He would stay with you… but only until you drifted off to another nightmare, perhaps.
It was as if he couldn't simply stay with you.
You shook your head with a sniffle, letting go of him. “No. You can go… but thank you for this.”
“I can stay.”
“... until I fall asleep.” You finished his sentence.
He nodded, eyes locking with yours. “Or for as long as you need me.”
You felt ridiculous from the way your heart immediately skipped a beat.
“Will you hug me?”
He shifted back against the headboard and sprawled his arms out to you with a sly grin. “Come here, darling.”
For a brief moment, you saw your Astarion again.
Open and caring.
You scooted over to rest your body against his, smiling softly as he placed his arm around you, trailing absent-minded caresses along your arm.
His coldness felt comfortable even in the dead of night, and you wrapped your arm around his torso, enjoying the silence.
“Am I too cold?”
You're perfect.
You shook your head vehemently.
But he still reached out to grab the blanket at your feet, draping over your frame.
“You are shivering, you fool.” He whispered and you could hear the smile in his remark.
You snuggled up against him, wishing you could freeze this moment in time.
Slowly but surely, and lulled by his caresses, you felt exhaustion take over, your eyelids feeling progressively heavier.
Maybe this was all a dream.
Maybe you'd wake up only to find that this had never happened.
That you hadn't felt your Astarion once again.
His chin was resting atop your head and your heart skipped yet another beat.
“Astarion?”
“Hmm?”
“What happened to us…”
The hand on your arm stilled for a moment and he hushed you. “Just rest.”
Your eyelids did feel heavy, and you could recognise your own brain fighting away your sleep, but you still wanted to know.
You needed to know what had gone so terribly wrong.
Especially when the man holding you in his arms had just provided immeasurable comfort.
“I miss you… us…” You heard yourself mumble under your breath.
He did utter something unintelligible, but you were far too exhausted to ask for a repeat.
Your warm body slumped against his cold one as he lulled you into sleep with the rhythmic caresses on your back.
It seemed that this time, your nightmare had started and ended with him.
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Morning came and he was gone.
Of course he was.
Even with your windows barred from the sun, he had still chosen to leave.
He had tucked you under the bedsheets and warm blankets.
You had nearly forgotten what a good night of sleep was ever since the nightmares had taken root in your mind.
His scent lingered all around you and it was impossible to escape it.
You eventually pushed yourself up to sit in silence, going over the events of a couple of hours ago.
Why did he always leave in the end?
Why couldn't you just bring yourself to move on from him?
You could have taken the time to open up to him about how you felt, but you were so afraid to push him away.
He had his own vulnerabilities and he didn't need yours weighing him down, too.
You lazily scrambled out of bed, slipping into your robe, ready for a new day.
As you made your way down the corridor, you began to hear heated voices coming from the kitchen.
“Must we all live in darkness because of you?”
You found Astarion sitting by the table, seemingly unbothered by Lae'zel's snarky remarks, the room plunged in darkness, keeping the scorching sun at bay.
“Oh please, feel free to address your complaints to the Grand Duke.”
Gale saw you first and offered a warm smile. “How are you feeling, my friend?”
You hugged yourself, forcing a smile. “I am well, thank you.”
Astarion turned his head to you, annoyance giving way to a sliver of concern. “Did you manage to get some rest?”
You nodded, your heart immediately reacting to his presence.
“Shall I brew some chamomile tea?” Gale offered eagerly, moving about the kitchen to gather the supplies.
“Thank you,” you said, glancing around. “Where is Shadowheart?”
“She headed out to the apothecary,” Gale said, placing the kettle by the fireplace. “She's keen on helping you out with these nightmares.”
Guilt hit you.
Of course she had.
Shadowheart had held your hand through so many perils, yet you couldn't help but to feel guilty that she was searching for help when the solution to your problem was right in front of you.
And he kept glaring at you, as if studying your every move.
A soft knock on the front door snapped you from your thoughts, and you went to push it open, revealing the visitor.
No.
No fucking way.
You immediately slammed the door shut, feeling rage swirl inside you.
“Who is it?” Gale asked.
“No one.”
Then your gaze met Astarion's whose eyebrow was arched in confusion.
“That is no way to treat a guest.” The woman outside chirped happily.
Ava.
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Next chapter: Broken - November 26
Series Masterlist . I don't keep taglists, so feel to follow this story on Ao3 🩷
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xamag-draws · 1 month
Text
BBR thoughts 2024
Since I mentioned that I finally dusted off an old project of mine and was ruminating on how I'd remake it, I thought I'd elaborate a little, now that I've solidified some concepts. For funsies
This is gonna be a bit of a long and unfocused one, but I don't share my personal thoughts here often, especially the stuff about my projects I always marinate in. And for once it's something that people have existing context for, so hey why not
So for anyone who hasn't been following me for a gajillion years, The Black Brick Road of OZ was a webcomic that I posted around 2013-2015, back when I was in highschool going on college (which is kinda crazy to think about). It was sort of a darker twist on The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, although I definitely leaned a lot more into dark humor more than anything in those first few chapters
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I don't think it's available to read anywhere anymore, and I know people have been asking me about it. So here's the full proper archive of BBR, as full as it can be with deceased Flash
I totally used it as an excuse to shamelessly and self-indulgently experiment. It had interactive pages and GIFs and was wayyy too overproduced for what I could handle or what was necessary, but I did have great fun making it while it lasted
Unfortunately, that excess and the fact that I've changed too much as a person by the time I was in college is what ultimately killed it. The direction I wanted to go in was practically unrecognizable from the original idea started back in 2011, so there were many old hold-ups that I felt ruined it
At the time I kinda wished I could start/rewrite it all over, but considering that I pretty much had the entire script done at that point, it felt like a pointless sisyphean task. So I just put it on a shelf and didn't look back for about 8 years, because I didn't know what else to do
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Now to be fair, the nature of my art has always been iterative and cyclical; when I feel like my creative juices have run dry I prefer to leave a project to marinate and move on to something else; cycle through other old things and bring in new skills and perspectives into the mix when I'm ready again. Not very productive, but it is what makes me happy to work on my OCs; I'm doomed to hit a wall with them eventually and I need some time to be able to find a new direction
So that said, I'm glad that BBR was left to marinate for that long. I don't think I was prepared, emotionally or intellectually, to tackle it again until now. The Wizard of Oz book (and the entire series of them, really) has always been near and dear to my heart, but there's a lot of context around it that I'm only unpacking now that I'm older
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I think I always inherently feel negatively about the stuff I've made in the past, like its faults always jump out to me more than the positives, especially the more time passes. I've never liked that, and I do really appreciate the kind things people have to say about BBR to this day. The fact that it still can be recognized and remembered is very sweet
When I left it, I already found it "kinda cringe", and that feeling only deepened with years. When I took my first look back at it, asking the question "how would I rewrite it now?", at first I took a very cynical approach, as in "everything would have to be torn down"
But the more I sat on it, the more I found that I still see some merit and charm in the ideas I was putting out; I just didn't know how to execute them at the time (not to pretend that I know what I'm doing now, but I certainly know more at least). Turns out a lot of my old concepts could be changed substantially with just a few small tweaks. So I'd say that's a nicer way to think about my previous work
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If you haven't seen yet, I posted a first draft of my new designs for some of the characters (the main group, the Goods and the Wickeds). Definitely subject to change, but more or less how I see them now
I'm just playing with these concepts; by no means would I attempt to remake BBR right this moment. Call it a pipe dream among my other ones. But just for fun, this is the direction I'd like to take:
Nowadays I'd probably make it a visual novel, with more emphasis on the visual part than the novel because I'm no English prose writer by any means. It'd still let me play a little with the interactivity while helping cut some corners on the drawing part (only some, I imagine I'd go hog wild anyway)
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I've always intended for some events inspired by the sequel books to take place in BBR's past. Stuff like Jinjur's revolt or Ozma's rule preceeds the main events here. So I think it would be fun to follow the past of a few key characters alongside the main story. One chapter focusing on the present quest to see the Wizard, then one focusing on the past events (that are maybe reflective thematically); rinse and repeat
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I'm also sticking a little closer to the original text in some regards. Not everything that I enjoy from the books would be translated here, it's still just a very loose fantasy on the material; but I'd like to be closer in spirit at least
I like mature, wise and powerful Glinda, I like kind and vulnerable Tin Man, I like the Wizard being a pathetic yet loveable liar, so I'm sprinkling in more of that for example
I'd like to keep some whimsy, but make it more grounded and a bit more serious to be coherent in tone. I think the original TWWOOZ book was a more realistic fantasy in some ways, even for the standards of the time; I like its simple but vivid tactile descriptions and details like bringing attention that Dorothy needed to eat and sleep
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I find it funny that Baum specifically was averse to making his books scary or unpleasant, finding that unnecessary for telling a compelling kids story, but they still can get pretty dark and disturbing, at least for our modern sensibilities. Let's just say that I intend to use the Evoldo and Chopfyt storylines for my purposes. In that way, I feel like a "darker" Wizard of Oz retelling can still mostly be tonally in line with the original and balance it with enough heart and occasional humor
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I slowly grew to appreciate the quaint old-timey quality of the original series, as well. The first book is both timeless and very much a product of the 1900s. Originally I tried to give it a little modern or at least anachronistic spin, but it was moreso because it's what I knew best, so these days I'd rather intentionally lean into the time period. Still not fully historically accurate by any means, but at least directly acknowledging the influence
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The events of the story span across 40 years of these characters' lives, so I'm drawing inspiration from the entire so-called La Belle Epoque: the time period around 1880s-1920s. Basically I'm cooking, and my soup is old Victorian fashion morphing into Edwardian fashion and slowly inching towards flappers
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Some new Dolly outfits
Lots of crazy things, political changes and innovations were happening at the turn of the century, which I think is noted and reflected by Baum in the books as well; the character of Tik-Tok might not blow any minds now, but he was one of the first robot characters in literature at that point; and don't even get me started on Jinjur, etc. Plenty of really interesting stuff one could lightly ponder in an Oz adaptation these days
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Aesthetically, art nouveau has always been a big artistic influence for me, and it'd definitely be its time to shine here. John R. Neill's illustrations of the Oz books often keep me company as well. Nouveau architecture in particular fits that fairytale whimsy extremely well imo
I'd allow myself a little bit of art deco here and there, but ultimately its intimidating geometrical splendor is an antithetical to the flowery nature of nouveau and I associate it with a completely different era. Definitely fitting some characters like my Wicked Witch of the West, but shouldn't be overused
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One of my main problems with the original BBR was that eventually I lost track of what it was even about; and the original ending felt too mean and unfulfilling to be worth it. Now I'd like to stick to the theme of home and family as my main theme, but in a different, more bittersweet way than in the book
An interesting connection I made is that a lot of my aforementioned older key characters (the Witches, Jinjur, the Nome King, etc) all came from the same reformatory as kids, that's how they know each other. In my recent research I learned that in those reformatories it was usually frowned upon to release the children back to the families, which were seen as the original corrupting influence regardless of the circumstance. The reformatory did everything in its power to cut that connection and make itself the only family those wayward kids were supposed to know and love. That's an unexpected tie into the theme of home that I'd like to explore as well
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So yeah that's the current state of it. I have a bunch of outfit concepts I'm slowly cooking, although I'm now sure whether I'd post them... But I do miss these funny guys, and I'm glad some people still do as well :)
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ddejavvu · 5 months
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Omg! I saw that fic you wrote based on friends tv series and i love it! Its so freaking cute!! Reading that fic remind me of another scene of friends tv series if you dont mind writing it?
Where chandler is having a bath and everyone just comes in at one point and start having conversations in the bathroom.
Maybe reader is like the therapist of the group and everyone wants her opinion on smtg and while reader is taking a bath, one by one just starting to enter and start having conversations with her and the rest until one of marauders (reader’s bf) start shooing everyone out so reader could have a peaceful bath?
i changed this a teeny bit, i'm sorry! but i've never seen friends so i think that's okay
--
"Y/N," Sirius is the first to interrupt your warm bath with James, meant to soothe his sore muscles after Quidditch practice, and lull you to sleep against his chest. Thankfully, James has poured a liberal amount of strawberry bubble bath into the water, so there's foam up to your necks.
"What's'a matter, Pads?" James answers for you while you try clearing the almost-sleep from your brain, but the man scoffs at him.
"Prongs, no offence, but I need help with makeup. And you're the last person in this castle I'd come to for that."
Before James can make an affronted retort, you pipe up, smoothing a soothing hand on James's thigh beneath the bubbles, "What do you need, Sirius?"
"Black or blue liner?" He shows off his outfit, then the two eyeliner pens in his hand.
"Black," You decide with a wrinkled nose, "Blue doesn't match your earrings."
"Thanks," Sirius grins, tossing the blue pen onto the counter and leaving with the black one, "Oh-! Sorry, Rem, go ahead."
Just when you'd been about to settle back against James's chest, Remus steps in, clearly having run into Sirius on the way out. James groans, but Remus incurs less of his wrath than Sirius often does, the price of becoming siblings as well as brothers.
"I left The Nightingale on your bed," Remus informs you, "Can I take Falling Leaves?"
"The smaller one," You nod, "Not the special edition. Sorry, Rem, I know you're careful, but I can't afford a chocolate stain on it."
He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but he'll respect your wishes. After all, he's careful in lending out special editions of his books, too.
"Thanks, Y/N!"
"Remus," James calls at the retreating form of his friend, "Do me a favor: close the door behind you!"
Remus does so, and James hooks an arm around your waist beneath the suds. It's warm and slightly pruned, and you sink into it gladly, reclining once more against his bare chest.
"Now that that's over," He gripes, his hand travelling below your waist, fingers hooking into the pudge of your thighs, "We could..."
"Don't even think about it," You pinch his thigh, just above the dome of his kneecap, ignoring his yelp in response, "This bath is to fix your sore muscles, not make new ones."
"I'm fine," James insists, burrowing his nose into the nape of your neck where fine droplets of water cling to your wispy hairs, "Please, darling, I swear I can-"
"Y/N?" Lily calls, the sweet tone of her voice matching the strawberry scent heavy in the air, "I know you're bathing, I'm sorry, but it'll only take a moment."
James holds his breath, but you use yours to call, "Come in, Lily," And he releases his in a scoff, fingers finally abandoning your thigh.
"I was just wondering if I could borrow your green sweater," Lily hums, politely avoiding any eye contact with James's muscled shoulders as he drapes his arms over the sides of the bathtub.
"G'head, babe," You smile sweetly at her, "You going to Hogsmeade?"
"The whole dorm is," She nods excitedly, "You wanna join?"
You consider it despite James's hand plunging back into the water and latching tight to your hip. Finally you decide, "No, but I might end up joining you if James can't learn to keep his hands to himself."
"Hey!" He tears his hand away from you once more, spilling water over the side of the tub when he finds purchase against the edge, "If you keep letting people barge in here, we won't be able to do anything anyways."
"Excellent point," You nod thoughtfully, and James's exasperated groan brings a smile to Lily's face that she shares giddily with you, "Lily, if you happen to see Professor McGonagall on your way over, send her in."
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wasawattpadkid · 1 year
Text
Housewife
Part - 1
Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?
Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader
Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19
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"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"
"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.
Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.
With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'
The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.
The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"
A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."
"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.
"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.
"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."
You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."
"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.
"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"
Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"
He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.
"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"
Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.
"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."
"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."
"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."
"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.
You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.
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Part 2
A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞
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ayselluna · 2 months
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Spawn Astarion Recommendations!
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So I heard you guys want Spawn Astarion Recommendations too! I heard you :) Apologies if it took awhile it got hard to compile everything I read.
I honestly have read more one shots Spawn Astarion than series tbh. but here are some series I love! These are Astarion x Tav / You / OCs following the story from the game! I'll be happy to make another list for AU's! Another Ascended list is on the way too~ :))
I DEFINITELY RECOMMEND FOLLOWING THESE WRITERS TOO as they have really great HCs and One Shots!
The Arrangement by @fangswbenefits - This is one of the first ones I've read and how she wrote Astarion is just so ASTARION! The lines, the slow burn and the smut are exquisite as hell. I do suggest reading her oneshots too! Her smuts are so good I suggest reading it ALONE. XD ONGOING!
The Fangs Between Us by @feyascorner - Not your typical Lovey-dovey Astarion and Tav. Astarion actually felt betrayed and actually tried killing you! Can love still blossom? is it still there? Would you guys even be friends?! So much angst and but oh so goooood! ONGOING!
Shadows of the Past by @pastshadowsff-blog / PallidMoon - What's an Astarion story w/o the angst? I would definitely be devastated the moment Astarion left me! The process of healing and loving, the confrontations here are soooo on point! Have a good gale on the side too~ ONGOING!
Love at First Knife by @bg-brainrot - DEFINITELY A FAVORITE! Aside from the romance from Astarion and TAV you get the WHOLE GANG TOO! I'm a sucker on everything on this series! I can't count how many times I've re-read this while I wait for my other fics to update. ONGOING? I'm not sure but it gets updated!
When He’s all but Forgotten How to Love Again by @bg-brainrot - okay another one from the same author, at this point just read everything!! okay, but what if TAV died and got reincarnated?! If you got an elf TAV this is definitely one for the books! I LOOOOVE this one a lot. Getting your memories back and seeking your lover out, would it be the same? Would he even remember you?! Surely he will right?! but what if he don't? hmmmm READ IT! ONGOING!
Astarion Talks In His Sleep by  @littlejuicebox - This is a short series but this was just memorable coz WE'LL LOVE EVERYTHING in it. It's one of the happy endings you'd totally wish for and how this story got me gasping and giddy was just chef's kiss! You'll love her DADSTARION series too! I LOVE THIS FAMILY A LOT. :))
Cursed To Put My Hands On Everything by @maladaptive-menace - I recently found this and I got hook immediately on the concept! I also love the titles on this series, as the title says~ :)) So imagine you're doing your mundane things IRL and one tiring night you found yourself Isekaid IN the GAME?! You know you're effed up, how would you survive?! well at least you got your dream come true of meeting the gang in the flesh…specially the Pale Elf~ ONGOING!
Winter Holiday Challenge Fills by @justporo - So this is an all fluff from the Winter Holidays! I know it's not christmas anymore but if you missed it during that time who cares?! READ IT! Get all the fluffiness you need from this series! Check that full masterlist on their profile too while you're at it~ :)) FINISHED!
The Currents of Destiny by @lendeah - You and Astarion fights after he didn't go with the Ascension, left and scorn you to die screaming! But what if he sees all the what if that could happen?! Would his decision stay the same? FINISHED!
An Adventure in Making a Life by @redlittlefoxari - okay something different but maybe a PREGNANCY fic anyone? :D This was one of the fastest story I binged! You both just learned you're pregnant but an invitation from a friend comes forth! Maybe keep it a surprise for the gang? How would this pregnancy on the road takes you? ALSOOOO FREAKING LOVIING HUSBAND ASTARION UGGHH i can't~
I have more authors to recommend but we'll keep this list for now! I urge you to follow these authors too and check their other works.
Let me know if you guys are up for more recommendations! I have more to share! <3 Hope you enjoy reading them as I did! More reading buddies!
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cassandraclare · 4 months
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*sighs a bit* Okay. Guys. I have been asked this question a lot, and answered it a lot. I don't know how to give a better answer — Dru & Ty&Kit share significance as main characters — so I guess I'll talk a little about comparison and structures.
First, all series have different structures. I don't think it's super useful or predictive to try to map an upcoming, unknown book series onto an existing series. In TLH the main character was Cordelia, everyone else was secondary to her, and people's roles and the significance of them altered from book to book. It was a big ensemble cast and they mostly stayed put in London especially in book 1.
TWP focuses on a smaller group of people. It also has a very different structure. In book one, Dru is not with Kit and Ty. They are in different places, both of which have their own stories that are significant to the plot. There is no way to see Place One without following Dru. There is no way to see Place Two without following Kit and Ty.
I know that TWP is a long way off. I know there are people who are very angry with me that there's such a gap, but there isn't anything currently I can do about that, or about the fact that I don't yet have the schedule for my upcoming books. That rests in the hands of several different publishers who must coordinate the release times and production schedules for four different series. I am not withholding any information about when these books come out. I simply don't know it yet.
I understand that TWP being a long way off makes for anxiety, and that those who are worried Kit and Ty will somehow be secondary are looking for tiny clues in microscopic details — micro-reading the of placement of the word "and" in my newsletter and such — that are meaningless, but I get that it all comes from anxiety. (FTR, those worried Dru will be secondary are equally anxious.)
I think there is only so much I can say. Because there's a big gap between TLH and TWP everything I do say or every image or hint about it is freighted with a weight of assumption it can't really support. Anxiety is always going to trump reassurance. And truly, at the end of the day, if you only care about Kit and Ty and find the idea of a Dru story tiresome, you will feel like they got shafted because when you absolutely hate a plotline, you will always feel like it's taking up way too much space. That's just how our minds work.
I've been doing this long enough that I know no book can survive a hostile reading. I know that Book Three of a trilogy is the one people hate until they don't. (When Clockwork Princess came out people hated it so much I considered quitting writing!) I know that it's wonderful to love a character but can also be a problem for people when I put out books that aren't about that particular character or dynamic. I know that for a lot of people, Sword Catcher and Ragpicker King are just tiresome things that have no business on my schedule because they're not Shadowhunter books. And I get it. But I also have to block it out, because I've been writing a long time, and I've gotten to a point where I know that I have to write the thing I want to be writing, because if I don't, if I sit down and try to force myself to write something I'm not feeling like writing at that time, I'll be making myself physically and mentally sick. And that's no good for anyone, really.
I suppose the positive thing is that, while this would not have been true five years ago, I am at the place where I want very much to be writing Wicked Powers. I missed these characters and am glad to be back with them. I consider this a story in which there are three main characters. And that is all I can say right now because it's all that I know.
(And this was much more of a general response to a lot of things than a specific response to this question, but I did feel like it was stuff that I needed to say. Creators are at the end of the day, just people. Sometimes we are powerless to reassure. Sometimes we are tired. Sometimes we are wrong. Sometimes we try things and they don't work. Sometimes we can't explain to you what our story is going to make you feel, because only reading it is going to tell you that. This may be one of those times.)
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shadowandlightt · 4 months
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Of Nightmares and Memories | nine | Azirel X reader
Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut
Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight
A/N; *to the tune of Britney Spears* OOps I DID IT AGAIN. Also I'm more nervous about this part than I have been for this entire series, so be nice and kind and I hope you enjoy <3
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Mor showed up a few days later. She appeared as you were lounging in a chair, attempting to read some random romance novel you’d come across. 
“He’s taking her to The Weaver,” She stated in lue of a greeting. 
“Well then he’s a fool,” You snorted, not looking up from your book. 
“YN,” She warns, “He’s taking her to The Weaver.” 
“Yes I heard you,” you roll your eyes and look up, “What difference does it-” 
You stop upon seeing the look on her face. The worry and the pain hidden there. You swallow the lump in your throat at the sight. She looked at you like you would break at any moment, and maybe you would. Maybe she saw the truth in you. 
“They’re mates, aren’t they?” You question, voice sounding strange. 
She only nods and moves to sit on the couch across from you. You nod slowly in understanding. You wanted to be happy for them, but somehow you couldn’t feel it. Like there was something wrong with you. Like you were broken. 
“I had a feeling,” You tell her, “From the moment she became Fae and he came for her the first time. I had a feeling.”
It was true, you did have a feeling. Something deep within you told you that they were drawn to one another in ways that neither of them could explain. You often wondered if that was the same with Azirel too. If you were secretly mates, you used to pray for it as a child. Because you couldn’t imagine a better mate than him 
To this day you still couldn’t imagine a better mate. But how could he want you now? Mate or not. You’d never have the same relationship that you had before. Nothing would be the same. How could you pretend to be the same person you were when you were taken when everything around you was different? You weren’t sure how you were going to do any of this. 
“Please come home,” Mor begged. 
“I can’t,” You try to keep your voice from breaking, “I can’t go back there.” 
“Why?” She demands, standing from the couch, “Why are you denying yourself this? It’s Valaris! Your favorite place in all the world! You hate being here, you always have.” 
“Maybe I deserve to be here,” You mumble, “Maybe I deserve to be away from all of you.”
“What are you talking about?” She questions. 
“I didn’t try to run when I could have. I gave up. I fucking gave up and accepted my fate there,” You explain, slamming your book shut, “I let myself become Tamlin’s little play thing, I allowed him to strip my powers away. I let him do everything to me and I never fought back.” 
“You never deserved what happened to you,” She shook her head, “I’m not so sure that I wouldn’t have given up either, if I’d been in your shoes.” 
“I spent fifty years thinking all of you were dead.”
“Oh, Y/N.”
“I really did give up then. Because I realized Rhys wouldn’t be able to come for me. Up until that point, up until she took him, I was convinced he would come save me. That all of you would somehow find out I was still alive and come marching into the Spring Court and raze it to the ground.” 
You shake your head, trying to clear the thoughts that were swirling about. Your back ached along the two big scars. Everything about you just hurt. Your skin, your head, your chest, your heart��everything. You just wanted it to stop. You needed it to stop. 
Mor sat back down and reached over to take your hands in hers. There was nothing but love in her eyes, no sign of the pain that you saw when she first arrived. You want to pull away from her, pull away from the tender touch that reminded you too much of your mother. 
“You survived,” She swore, looking deeply into your eyes, “You made it out. You were brave and cunning and you survived. That’s all that matters now.” 
Your head shakes again, “No, it’s not all that matters. You can’t understand, none of you can.”
“Then help me understand,” She begs, “Help me understand what’s going on. Help me help you.” 
“You can’t help me, Morrigan,” You said, standing up and ripping your hands away from hers. 
You walked to one of the large widows, wondering how bad it would be if you flung yourself from the Palace. How much would it hurt when you crashed into the mountain below? Would it be enough to bring you the release you so desperately craved? Would Mor be able to stop you in time? 
You thought long and hard about it, but in the end you turned away from the window. Hating yourself for even thinking such a thing. It would destroy Rhys to get you back only to lose you again. You couldn’t do that to him. That was the only thing stopping you. 
“Azriel knows we’re hiding something,” She says from her spot on the couch, “I’m not sure how much longer we can hold him off.” 
You nearly cringe at the sound of his name. Cauldron, what is he going to do when he finds out about you? How will he react? Will he even want to be in the same room as you? Will he be able to stand to look at you after everything you’ve done? 
“I don’t care,” You lied, “I don’t give a fuck if he thinks you’re hiding something. You don’t tell him about me.”
“Yes I know, Rhys’ order was very clear,” She rolls her eyes. 
“You should go,” You tell her, “Before they wonder where you are.”
She sighs and gets up from the couch. You can tell she wants to say something else but decides against it. You watch as she disappears into darkness. You finally felt that you were able to breathe once she left. 
You fell deeper and deeper into the darkness as the days went on. The feeling in your chest only got worse with time. You wondered what would happen if you went down to The Hewen City. What would they do if their princess suddenly reappeared after so many years. 
You wondered if they’d kill you, just to spite Rhys. Or if they’d bow down to you like they used to. But then you remembered one of the last conversations you had with Azriel, and how he hated the way so many of the males talked about you and you felt sick. 
Everything surrounding Az seemed to make you feel that way these days. You could feel it deep in your chest, the sort of ache you always seemed to feel whenever you were away from him. After all of these years it still hadn’t subsided. In fact it seemed to be getting worse as each day passed by. Like being back in the Night Court and being so close to him was making it worse. Or maybe it was the fact that the Faebane was finally starting to wear off and your powers were coming back. 
No matter the reason, you weren’t sure that you could go on like this any more. You didn’t know how you could live with the constant ache forever. Because you never planned on going back to Valaris, you couldn’t face the city you loved after what you did. After how you allowed your mother to be killed. She loved Valaris, and loved flying over the city. And it was your fault she was dead, no matter what anyone else said. You were to blame. 
You didn’t expect Rhys to appear several days later. He looked tired. You wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him that it was going to be okay. But even you didn’t believe that. You couldn’t believe that it would be okay. Too much had happened. 
“We’re going to the Summer Court,” He tells you, “Feyre, Amren, and myself.”
“Enjoy.”
“Little Star, tell me what to do,” He begs, stepping closer to you, “Tell me how to help you.”
“I’ll tell you like I told Mor,” You sigh, “You can’t help me.”
“Come back to Valaris, be with your family.” 
Your head shakes. You couldn’t bear to face Cassian and Azriel. Not now, maybe not ever. It’s something Rhys could never understand. He was able to readjust easily after Amerantha. But he hadn’t spent hundreds of years being beaten and mistreated. He wasn’t starved and drugged every day. You couldn't be mad at him, as much as you wanted to be. Because you knew he suffered too. 
“I can’t come back.”
“You keep saying that but you never say why,” he challenged. 
“Because it’s all my fault!” you finally broke, tears streaming down your face, “It’s my fault, Rhysand. She could still be alive if I had just done something. Anything. But I didn’t.”
“If you’re to blame, then so am I,” He countered, “It should be just as much my fault. I told Tamlin where you would be. I’m the one who didn’t come to meet you as I promised, I left you undefended.” 
“It’s not your fault, Rhys,” You felt anger boiling up in you now. 
Because you didn’t blame him. You never did. He had duties to attend to that day, you understood that he couldn’t get away. He trusted Tamlin. The son of spring had him fooled, and that was not Rhys’ fault. Not in the slightest. 
“Then it isn’t your fault either,” He gently argued. 
You can’t help but shake your head again. He didn’t understand. He couldn’t understand. He wasn’t there. He didn’t hear her. He doesn’t see her every time he closes his eyes, he doesn't hear her screams in his nightmares. 
“You don’t understand,” You cried, “She didn’t even beg for herself. Even as they cleaved her wings from her body, she only begged for my life. Begged for them to set me free. Even as they hacked her to pieces, she cried for me.” 
“Y/N-”
“I’ll live with that knowledge forever,” You sob, “Do you have any idea what that’s like? To know that you failed your mother? That she died for nothing, because you are nothing?”
“Don’t say that.”
“Why? It’s true. I have nothing left to give,” You shrug, fighting back the tears, “There’s nothing left for me.”
He surges forward and grabs your shoulders, “Don’t say that. Don’t you even think about it. Never think about something like that. There is so much left for you in this life.”
“It doesn’t feel that way, Rhys,” You feel numb all of the sudden. 
The void is back. And you’re once again a shell of yourself with no fight left to give. You sag against Rhys’ hold on you, wishing you could just crawl back into your bed and forget that this conversation ever happened. 
You wish he would just leave already so you could just disappear within yourself again. You wished he would just leave you alone to waste away. It seemed to be the only thing you could think of doing these days. 
He looks into your eyes and goes silent for a moment. You know the look he has, he’s speaking to someone, mind to mind. You feel anxiety well up within you, because you have no idea who he’s speaking with and what he’s telling them. 
You can only hope that it’s Morrigan and nothing else. You can only hope that he’s trying to ascertain how serious you are about having nothing left. But then shadows ripple in the room, subtly at first, but enough that you realize it. And it’s not you calling to them 
“You promised me,” You cry, hitting his chest, “You fucking promised.” 
“I won’t let you wither away to nothing,” He says sternly, “Not when there’s someone who can stop it.”
The shadows take form. You rip yourself from Rhys’ grasp and try to run but you hardly make it out of the room before the man is then flesh. You know the second he’s here, because you can feel it in your very bones.  Like a song in your blood. You try to keep moving but your body betrays you and stops. You think that maybe he won’t take notice of you. Maybe he’ll be too focused on Rhys. But then you hear footsteps. So hesitant, so light you hardly hear them. 
You can hear your heartbeat in your ears, or maybe it’s his. You think you might drop dead here. Right in front of both of them, and then where would they be? Your hands are shaking, just like the rest of your body. But you keep your back towards him, too afraid to turn around. 
A hand reaches for your shoulder. His touch is featherlight, but you can feel his scars through the thin material of your shirt. You knew it was him, long before he touched you. You could smell him better now though. Could feel that void in your chest slowly starting to fill. 
As if his very presence was enough to bring you back to life. 
Hesitantly, he speaks. Voice so silky and deep, just as you remembered it in your dreams. Only now it’s a dream made real, and he’s here. You’re alive and he’s alive and suddenly he’s gently spinning you around to face him. 
There are tears in his eyes as he opens his mouth, “Y/N.”
It’s the only thing you hear as he studies your face. Your lip trembles as tears fall anew. You can feel the air filling your chest, nothing but the scent of him filing your nose. For the first time in years you want to smile, because he’s here. And more devastatingly beautiful than you remembered him being. 
“Az,” you cry out softly. 
He pulls you into his chest, holding you there tightly. For the first time in a couple of hundred years, you felt complete. You nuzzle into him, still crying, getting his leathers wet with your tears. You couldn’t bring yourself to care though, because it just felt right. You could feel it deep within your chest, the part of you that always seemed to connect you to him. 
“You’re alive,” You can hear the disbelief in his voice, and the wonder too.
“You’re alive,” You cry, finally allowing the words to sink in. 
He was alive, after all of these years. He was untouched during Amarantha’s rule. Valaris was untouched. Everyone that you loved was okay, and so were you. Somehow, for the male holding you and your brother, you would fight to be okay. 
He pulls away from you and cups your face. You watch as he looks you over, carefully scanning your body. Any of the lingering bruises from Tamlin had faded away into nothing. There was nothing to prove that anything happened at all besides the two long scars on your back. 
“Y/N,” He whispers again, “Oh my Y/N.” 
Then he leaned in to kiss you and it was as if your whole world shifted to just him. He was the only thing that mattered. Just Azirel. Always only Azriel. Your Azriel. Your perfect, beautiful, scarred Azriel.
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runningfrom2am · 5 months
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cold nights // part six
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summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.7k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: i just finished writing s1, and we're halfway through! so in case anyone was wondering, s1 will have 12 parts :) i haven't started s2 yet but i am so excited to!!
series masterlist // playlist
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Days passed, no sign of Coryo. The only reason you know he isn't dead is because Sejanus came and told you he would be alright. That didn't do much to quell your worries.
Selfishly, you were scared you wouldn't get to see him again. You knew you wouldn't, actually. Now you were truly alone. Just you and his blanket, the book he gave you, and the dress your mother made. And Sejanus Plinth, you supposed. None of the surviving tributes would even talk to you- not that you really felt like talking. Just reading. You've read and re-read Romeo and Juliet no less than three times since Coriolanus passed the book through the bars to you the night before you went into the arena.
"I know you asked for this, and it's a little early, but happy birthday." Coryo whispers, smiling as the dark of night encases the two of you into your own little world.
He hands you a small box, wrapped in parcel paper and complete with a ribbon made of some kind of knitting thread. You grin, taking it from his hand and carefully untying the bow, delicately pulling the paper apart where it's taped together so as not to rip it. A copy of Romeo and Juliet. Old, tattered, falling apart; well-loved.
"Oh, Coryo, you didn't have to give me anything. That's too sweet." You grin, immediately flipping through the pages despite the dark preventing you from seeing a single word. "Thank you."
"Of course." He says, watching only you as your eyes flick over the pages. What little light falls from the moon is reflected in your eyes, and he wouldn't dare look away.
"My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep; the more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite." You say softly, and at first, he thinks you're talking to yourself until you look up at him. A small, almost shy smile fit perfectly onto your lips.
"You like it?" He asks, the answer obvious even to him.
"I love it."
You were his tribute. Not a friend, certainly not more, but as he reaches through the bars to let his fingers brush over your cheek all rational thought means nothing. He doesn't realize he's staring at your lips until you comment on it.
"Is this why you asked if I have a boyfriend?" You whisper, your natural smile returns, and he's quickly looking anywhere else. Your eyes, your hair, the spot where his fingertips meet your cheekbone just below your hairline. Anywhere else. "Because I know it wasn't on that list of questions."
He's quickly backtracking, dropping his hand. This was wrong and he knew it. "I, uh, Tigris made you some cake. It's not good, but it's the best we could do." He says, redirecting his attention to his bag as he pulls out the small paper bag.
You sit back, blushing furiously. "I'm sure it's delicious." You smile, and it comes across more nervously than you intended.
"Here." He hands it to you, and you gently place the book next to you on the ground so you don't get any crumbs on it. "I have to go. I'll see you tomorrow."
And just like that, he's gone.
You're grateful when you see Sejanus coming back with his bag of food and water. It had become some form of a routine, at this point. The citizens of the Capitol weren't allowed to bring you food anymore, he was the only one who did for you now that Coryo was gone, and now that his tribute had escaped as well.
"Sejanus." You smile, standing up as he gets closer.
"Y/N. Holding up okay?" He asks, a sad look behind his tired eyes. He looked almost as tired as you, you were sure, but you hadn't seen a mirror since you left your house before the reaping.
You sigh. "I'm holding up." You answer simply. Sejanus is the only person you feel comfortable being totally honest with, but at the same time, you don't want to because you know he already feels bad for what you're going through. He's the only one outside this cage who kind of understands. "How about you?"
"I'm alright." He shrugs, reaching into his bag and pulling out a sandwich for you. You could never get sick of these. "I also have salt, if it needs more of that." He hands you a small bag of table salt alongside it.
"Thank you." You grin, tucking the bag into your pocket incase you needed it. "Any news about Coryo?" You ask hopefully, taking a bite. You already feel your starvation-induced nausea fading away.
"Not really. He's recovering, though." Sejanus answers. "Are you ready for the interview tonight?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." You grin. "I was right, I didn't need the book. I already had the whole thing memorized, but it's been so lovely to get to read it again."
"It must be." He nods. "Gives you something to do."
You hum in agreement, looking around at the other tributes. No one is even moving much anymore. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
You look down at your sandwich while you think about how you want to word this. "Is Coryo..." No, that's not it. "I got the feeling that he actually cared for me. Is that true?"
"Coryo has never been one to tell anyone what he's thinking." Sejanus says, entirely unhelpfully. That's not his fault, though. "But if I had to guess, I would say yes."
"I'm just wondering because it's nice to have friends now. Here. At the end." You smile sadly before taking another bite. "And I was worried I had upset him."
"You? No." Sejanus shakes his head. "I don't think you could if you tried."
"Why's that?"
"Well... It's hard to explain. He's always been super focused on school, on the prize, but now, when it matters most, I feel like he's more focused on you and making sure you actually win." He tells you. "But, like I said, he wouldn't talk about it even if I asked him outright."
You nod. "Thank you, Sejanus. For always being honest with me."
"Of course. It's the very least I can do, all things considered."
"Can I ask you for one more favour?" You ask hopefully. "If not I understand, you must be quite busy."
"I have the rest of my life to be busy." He shakes his head. "What do you need?"
"Will you tell Coryo thank you, for me?"
"Yes. Of course." He agrees without hesitation.
"And do you have a pencil and paper?"
Sejanus headed home for a while and then back to the hospital after his visit with you, armed with your note in his pocket to pass on to Coryo. He was hoping he would be awake right now, he had been so on and off the last few days. More grumpy than normal, and Sejanus could tell it was driving him up the wall that he couldn't go see you. But the interviews had already started, so he would get to see you soon- even if it's just through the screen.
"Tigris." He whispers, pulling back the curtain as he sees the familiar girl sitting at his friend's side. She hadn't left her cousin most of the time he'd been bedridden, she was there every time Sejanus checked in.
"Oh, hello." She whispers, smiling at him. "He's still resting, but he's feeling a bit better today I think."
"That's good. I'm glad to hear it." Sejanus agrees, taking the seat next to her. "I went to see Y/N. She's eaten. She doesn't look good, though."
Tigris nods, returning her gaze to her sleeping cousin and pushing his hair away from his eyes. It's not like he needs to see, but she would do it anyway. Just to make sure he wouldn't be annoyed when he woke up. "He's been worrying about her. I can tell."
"She asked me if she did something to upset him. Has he said anything to you?"
"No, nothing." She shakes her head, lip jutting out at the confusing statement. Nothing at all would indicate to her that he was upset with you, but it's entirely possible that stuck in that cage day in and day out you could quickly become paranoid about who you could trust.
"Okay, good. That's what I told her anyway." He tries to be quiet as he speaks, but the whispering wakes his friend anyway.
Coryo's eyes fly open and he gasps, eyes landing on the two of them sitting in front of him.
"Coryo," Tigris says softly, a small, worried smile on her face.
"Y/N?" He asks, his voice husky from sleep. "Is she-"
"She's alive," Tigris promises, gently rubbing his arm, landing her hand on his and squeezing it gently.
"Is she hurt?"
"Not badly." Sejanus shakes his head. "A few decent cuts and bruises, but she'll be okay. I brought her some antibiotics the other day so nothing will get infected." You won't be okay, they both know that, but you certainly wouldn't be dying from the minor injuries you sustained in the rebel bombing.
He nods, slightly, trying to sit up. "How long was I sleeping? What did I miss?"
"Another tribute died from injuries," Sejanus replies. "Everyone is still scared. No one will go see them anymore, I haven't seen any of the other mentors there either. But I've been feeding her. She's okay."
Coryo nods, wincing at the pain in his back as he moves. The burn was bad, but apparently, it was healing well.
"Marcus is still missing. I haven't heard anything about him. They're hunting him but I still think he has a better chance out there than he would tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Coryo asks, rubbing his head with his free hand, Tigris still holding his other one. "They're still going ahead with the games?"
Sejanus just slightly shakes his head, looking away. Coryo knows that that is a yes.
"Oh no... Y/N.... She could've run," He mumbles. "But she saved me."
"I tried to convince her to. I did." Sejanus reminds him. "She wouldn't budge."
All heads turn as Lucky's voice on the TV catches their attention. "And now, our final tribute. I first met this young lady in the zoo not too long ago. From District Twelve, Y/N Y/L/N. Come on out here!"
Lucretius motions for you to step out onto the stage and you do, gently placing the book and the blanket you had brought with you on the floor in a neat pile before joining him.
"Lucretius." You smile. "It's good to see you." You're nervous in front of so many people, the audience in front of you is much larger than the small one you spoke in front of at the reaping, and being in front of a camera without Coryo by your side made you antsy.
"You as well, Darling. Now, I was told you had something you wanted to do for us so I'll just leave you to that. Charm us! Remember, the world is watching." He smiles, gently patting your shoulder before walking just out of view of the cameras. His statement was far from reassuring.
"Uhm..." You stare out at the audience, and suddenly you're scared you've forgotten the entire thing. You had to do well. For Coryo and his prize. He needed this. "I've become aware that not many people know this play." You chuckle, trying to hide your nervousness behind it. "But Romeo and Juliet has always held a special place in my heart and I want to share that with the world, before I go."
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes. You wonder if Coryo is watching. He's not here, you're sure of that, but you do hope he gets to see. And he does.
He stands up as soon as your face first appears on the screen, declining help from both Tigris and Sejanus as he limps over to the TV, cranking up the volume. Your fate depends on this, he knows it, but he can't look past the blue tint under your eyes and the bruises that litter almost every part of your exposed skin. The cuts are what get him the most. Your knuckles are cleaned up, mostly, but red and irritated as you twist your hands together nervously in front of you. Same with the crude black stitches on your upper arm. Irritated, neglected by professionals, but at least it wasn't serious.
"Come on... You can do it." He mumbles mostly to himself, and Tigris reaches up to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder as the three of them watch.
"O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" Immediately, he is confused. He expected to be, of course, but he could also tell as soon as you started reciting it, after the first line, your confidence was coming back to you. This play was your safe space.
"Deny thy father and refuse thy name. Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love; and I'll no longer be a Capulet." You look out at the silent audience as you speak, a smile forming on your lips. They're listening. "'Tis but thy name that is my enemy: Thou art thyself, though not a Montague."
Coryo is wishing you had explained more to him about what this play is about. "What's Montague? It is nor hand nor foot, nor arm nor face nor any other part belonging to a man. Oh, be some other name." He should have asked. Why didn't he ask? You told him yourself that you could talk about it for hours. Why didn't he take advantage of that when he had the chance?
"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet; so Romeo would, were he not Romeo call'd, retain that dear perfection which he owes without that title." A rose. Of course a rose, was this for him? He longed to understand it better as he watched the donations tracker tick up and up toward the thousands.
"Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name, which is no part of thee," You take a deep breath for the first time since you started speaking. "Take all myself."
It was a beat or two before the audience clued in that you were done, and then the cheers started. A standing ovation, people wiping their eyes and clapping for you like you had changed their lives.
"Wow! Now wasn't that something, everyone!" Lucky laughs, coming back into the frame of Coryo's view from the camera. Tigris was in tears. The continual uptick of the donations counter was reassuring to him. As you smiled, cheeks flushing red. "The donations are just flooding in with a record high! That must feel good."
"Thank you, it does." You nod at Lucky, trying to place all your focus on him so you don't get too embarrassed in front of the crowd. At least you knew Coryo would be pleased. If you understood his prize situation as well as you thought you did, this was very good for him. "I just want to make my family and my mentor proud."
"You have a real talent. It's such a shame." The host says to you and you laugh awkwardly.
"Well, everyone loves something. I just loved books."
You continually referring to yourself in the past tense makes Coryo want to puke, looking away from the screen only briefly to take in the other nurses and patients watching too.
"We have just a few moments left, but I need to know, what is that about?"
"Oh! Well, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy." You explain, back to yourself again. "It's about two star-crossed lovers from feuding families. So, what Juliet was talking about, to put it very simply because I could go on and on about this, was that she loved Romeo for who he was- not just his name or his family. It didn't matter to her that they came from different places. She loves him anyway, and if he couldn't let go of his family, she would give up her own life for him."
Coryo's eyes widen. So it was about him. He can't help the tug on his lips that threatens to form a smile.
"Alrighty then, that's very sweet." Lucky replies. "Now, you said it's a tragedy. What is so tragic about a love story?"
"Well," You chuckle nervously. "They both die at the end."
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reasonsforhope · 2 months
Text
"At HarperCollins, a lot of attention and thought is given to deciding exactly what combinations of margin measurements, font, and layout feel most appropriate for the genre, and writing style.
But in a case of do-your-part environmentalism, designers at the publishing house have now standardized a series of subtle and imperceptible alterations to normal font style, layouts, and ink that have so far removed the need for 245 million book pages, totaling 5,618 trees.
Telling the story in Fast Company, representatives from HarperCollins, one of the four largest publishing houses in the world, explained that the idea first arose in Zondervan Bibles, HarperCollins’ Christian publishing division. Being that the Bible is 2,500 pages or sometimes more, saving ink and pages was not just an environmental consideration, but one of production costs.
A new typeface called NIV Comfort Print allowed Zondervan to shave 350 pages off of every Bible, which by 2017 had amounted to 100 million pages, and which, as Fast Company points out, would be four times higher than the Empire State Building if stacked.
The production and design teams then wondered how much they could save if they applied the same concepts to other genres like romance and fiction. Aside from the invention of the eBook, publishing hasn’t changed much in the last 100 years, and the challenge was a totally novel one for the teams—to alter all their preconceived ideas and try and find a font and typeface that resulted in fewer pages without being harder to read.
They eventually standardized 14 different combinations their tests determined were the most environmentally friendly, and which delivered an unchanged reading experience.
But the challenge didn’t stop there. Printed books, one might not know, are printed in large sheets which are then folded into sections of sixteen pages, meaning that Leah Carlson-Stanisic, associate director of design at HarperCollins, has to calculate the savings of space, words, and ultimately pages with the help of her team to fall in multiples of sixteen.
Nevertheless, they have been successful with it so far, and in the recent print run of one popular book, 1 million pages (or a number near 1 million that coincides with the 16 times tables) were saved.
“We want to make sure our big titles, by prominent authors, are using these eco-fonts,” Carlson-Stanisic said. “It adds up a little bit at a time, saving more and more trees.”"
-via Good News Network, April 4, 2024
--
Note: Great! Waiting to see this on the rest of their books and at the other big publishers!
Actually, though, it's worth noting that this may not come quickly to the other large publishers, because Harper Collins almost certainly owns that font - meaning that other publishers would have to pay HarperCollins in order to use it, on an ongoing basis.
More on publishing shit and more realistic solutions here below the cut!
What I'm hoping for and think is more likely is that this will inspire the development of open source eco-friendly fonts, which would be free for anyone to use. That would make it far more likely other publishers would adopt eco-friendly fonts.
I'm also hoping it would inspire other publishers to create similar eco-friendly fonts of their own.
Ideally, there would be a whole new landscape of (hopefully mostly open source) eco-friendly fonts. And/or to see calculations of the eco-friendliness of popular existing fonts, compared to each other.
If we could have a publicly accessible list of calculations for different fonts, including fonts designed to maximize eco-friendliness, I really do think that it would affect which fonts publishers choose to use. Here's why:
Most people in publishing are on the left (notoriously, actually) and really do care about the environment
People in publishing are plenty aware of these issues re: paper and trees, I promise
Shorter books means smaller production costs - and possibly smaller shipping costs as well, over time! So it would save them money too.
Eco-friendly fonts could also be combined with other measures for greater effect, such as bamboo paper (already in use for a lot of projects where page color/quality is more flexible) and thinner paper (aka paper with a lower weight) that uses less trees.
Don't expect books to all move to just one or two different fonts, though. Publishers and typesetters and font designers will innovate to create more options instead, though it will take longer. This is because different books really do use different fonts for various different reasons - one new font to rule them all isn't really a solution here.
"Every book is in the same font" may sound like a "whatever" deal to a lot of people, but as someone who works in publishing - trust me, it would actually make your reading experience worse, even if you could never quite put your finger on why.
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