#reblogging this original from last year bc

[daemondaes]

[possamble]

Dungeon Meshi Episode 19 Portrait Masterlist

Divided into portraits from the original manga chapter, portraits derived from later chapters, and completely anime-original additions

Portraits from the original chapter

Pipi

2. random cat? (is this supposed to be an izutsumi metaphor?)

3. Marcille's mother

4. Marcille's mother (the one she was hiding behind)

this one comes with a twist: notice how she has no expression in the original manga panel, but she's smiling in the anime version? well, this portrait comes back later in the sequence with an inverted background and expression:

(that last indistinct one is teased earlier in the scene before her expression is clearly revealed)

5. Marcille's father (?)

Same placement at the same section of the scene--but notice how it's not clear if it's him or not in the manga panel. Though, this is only chapter 42, as opposed to the main flashbacks of his older years in chapter 81--it could be that Ryoko Kui didn't know what Marcille's father would look like yet at the time of writing chapter 42, and gave the go-ahead to reveal his finalized appearance in the anime.

Portraits resembling panels from Chapter 81

Baby Marcille

2. Marcille talking to her father while he's ill

3. Marcille walking with her father

(con't in reblog bc of image limit)

[sayuri-of-the-valley]

On how Crowley and Aziraphale's dynamic shifted in s2:

Okay so I was inspired by this lovely post by @rebeccasteventaylor which I couldn't find the link to in order to reblog directly, but if anyone has a link to it pls I'd love to put it here:

Anyway, while I absolutely 100% agree with @rebeccasteventaylor 's meta, I have to point out that s2 shifted it a little. Especially for Aziraphale.

We don't see him looking away trying to hide his heart eyes anymore as he used to do in s1 (we all remember the "smitten" scene, only to cite ONE). Compare the little breath of lust from the Bastille (when he looks away twice) to the "don't hesitate to ask me if you have any questions about love" one.

In s2, he touches Crowley like crazy. He touches his chest, his hand, his back, asks him to dance, gives him a whole ass cotillion ball.

He was deliberately and explicitly pursuing Crowley this season. If s1 was all Crowley pursuing Aziraphale, s2 was all Aziraphale pursuing Crowley.

And Crowley seemed to either not notice or not acknowledge that Aziraphale was doing that (the way he said Aziraphale only has 3 reasons to call him still drives me crazy. Crowley ffs those were ALL the reasons there is to call someone. He's ALWAYS thinking of calling YOU).

I think Crowley was afraid. Probably for the same reason he never told Aziraphale he was homeless. Which is sad and kinda doesn't make sense at first bc this is all Crowley has ever wanted, right?

Until we remember the last time Crowley let himself love and be loved freely, he was cast away (yes, the Fall). He lost everything bc he wasn't worthy according to some crazy criteria. Apparently he doesn't even know what he DID exactly.

I wonder if Crowley thinks he's not worthy of Aziraphale. I wonder if that's why he refused to see their love for centuries until Nina threw it at his face (Nina LITERALLY doing the Lord's work). I wonder if he's afraid of loving and letting himself be loved and then losing it again. Afraid of daring to ASK and losing everything. Again.

And Crowley wasn't *happy* this season, even with their freedom. I wonder if Aziraphale was mistakenly arriving at the conclusion that he was not enough to make Crowley happy. That him alone would never make Crowley smile the way he did when creating nebulae.

These 4 years were breathing space between the two "wars", according to Crowley himself in s1. And I think Crowley doesn't deal well with their relationship in a calm environment. He only knows how to make grand gestures, and heroic rescues, and go fast and act on impulse because then he doesn't have to THINK. Once he needs to sit down and make a commitment (telling Aziraphale he's homeless for ex), he just STOPS, he can't.

Aziraphale was the opposite. The calmness without any danger was giving him all the space he needed to act on his feelings, while the sense of danger always made him enter denial mode (which ironically seemed to be Crowley's mode in s2).

Of course they still need to put a name on what they are and stop pretending, Nina was absolutely right (and Crowley did catch up on that faster in those last 15min), maybe Aziraphale was still lacking this bit even if he was pursuing Crowley, but we can't deny that until those last 15min the "us" was coming from Aziraphale.

It's sad to realise that unconsciously, without even noticing, Crowley was rejecting Aziraphale almost the whole season.

UNTIL suddenly there's a huge problem, a desperate situation and he wants to abandon everything, take Aziraphale and run away again! (his original plan wasn't even to run away, it was to go to the Ritz). And who can blame him after what happened when he Fell? The Fall was totally unexpected, nobody even knew that could HAPPEN.

Crowley doesn't think himself worthy of Aziraphale (he's UNFORGIVABLE!), and Aziraphale doesn't think he's enough to make Crowley TRULY unashamedly happy and carefree.

And they're BOTH immensely WRONG ofc, we can all see it. They're each other's WORLD.

But they just assume stuff and never ASK, never TALK (bc well, it was literally dangerous before, I get it, their communication issues don't come from nowhere). That's why they have different perspectives on how to fix their situation in the end.

And btw I have to add we can't ignore Crowley was opening himself more too, always taking off his glasses when he was at the Bookshop for example. Ironically he was just a bit slower than Aziraphale for once. All that ofc until those last 15min, when they both change back to their old behaviours (makes me want to bang my forehead onto a wall).

I do believe they'd get there if the Metatron hadn't intervened (interesting that he chose this *exact* moment), especially after that little push from Maggie and Nina (for Crowley) and ofc brielzebub (for Aziraphale) that was gonna make them BOTH confess their feelings.

Anyway, bottom line, fuck the Metatron.

This is also a thread on Twitter :D

[arcanegifs]

On Gifmaking:

So season 2's coming soon, and I wanna reflect on making gifs ever since I came back to Tumblr. I can't believe it's been 2 years of making gifs for this show!!!!! Look at how large my folder is lmao

And those are JUST gifs lol

Anyways, over time, my style has changed, especially how I color edit Arcane gifs. I kind of strayed away from a stylized filter color into just something that looks a lot more "natural" and works with the original scene.

Initially, I thought I'd save time, but I ended up not using my old arcane preset PSDs and resulted to coloring almost every scene manually. So in the end, it takes even longer to make them HAHAHA. It takes around an hour and a half for me to make a 10 gif set, basically. It also helps that I have a photography background, so coloring/editing is a lot simpler for me.

Here's a lil before and after of a dark scene (hiiiii viiiiiii <3)

Arcane is a REALLY dark show, but it goes for most of TV shows. Many of them are darker and harder to bring up the lights to make stuff look nice as gifs. Some people don't like to color their gifs, and that's okay. I personally just like color edited gifs more.

I've started learning how to upscale scenes myself, so that I have a better resolution and leeway to make things look "HD" more.

If you're wondering why my stuff look so "crisp", it's a combination of the scene's lighting, my sharpening settings on Photoshop and knowing how to upscale everything into 4k resolution. Of course, doing this needs an extremely beefy pc, which I am very lucky to own one.

Here's another before and after of a nicely lit scene. These are much, MUCH easier to do than all the darkly lit scenes because of shadows and lighting (caitlyn kiramman truly the rizzler <3)

I've been very lucky to be able to essentially take a nice, long break for like a month doing nothing after being so damn busy for the last year and a half, so it's nice that I was able to make a ton of gifs and be chronically online for a short while LMAO.

It's been so fun! But it's time to go back to reality lmao. I closed reqs for a bit because I was just so swamped with them the last few days, and I wanted to gif scenes that I like this time. I've done like 2 weeks worth of gifs. And you will see Vi a lot bc she's on my mind a lot heehee 🥰what can I say, she's such a babe <3

Here's a lil sneak peek, just look at herrrrrrr 🥰🥰🥰 and yeah, 4k upscaled resolution really helps making these tight crops, it's why i never went back to 1080p lol. It's how I’m able to make zoomed in gifs look decent (like the kirammountains gifset lol)

Thank you so much for all the support, likes, reblogs, and the nice tags you guys give. Yes, I can see and read all of them (both the nice and nasty ones lmao). If you have nothing good to say about the characters or my editing style, or anything related to the edit, please I beg you, just write a separate text post about it <3 If you have nothing nice to say, don't say it in my edits.

Lastly, thank you to the people who share my stuff outside the site and credit the blog and link them back here. I see you and appreciate you <3 You guys don't know how much I appreciate shoutouts and link backs, because people stealing my gifs is something that I've dealt with after making them for like a decade.

Tumblr is sadly not what it used to be in the 2013-2015 era. There’s definitely less activity as time goes by, so I appreciate all the people who credit and link back to this sideblog. Unfortunately, there’s more people who just repost them and it gets wayyy much more traction in other soc med sites. Yeah, ofc I get a lil jealous, but eh what can you do 😞 can’t really stop em.

I also don’t like putting watermarks because it personally looks tacky to me, but I understand why other people do it.

Anyways, if you reached at the end of this lil rambling of mine, thank you! I sadly might be busy during November because that's usually busy season, but I'll try to make time for making gifs of Season 2! Thank you and enjoy your stay on this lil sideblog :)

[feyrescourt]

This is a long and rambly discussion post for elriel nation btw so strap in

I want to preface this by kindly asking the elriel hive to not use any tags of #those ships if reblogged. I want to keep this in the elriel echo chamber. Please and thank u!

A huge part of fandom culture is to ship canonically compliant characters and crack ships. Everyone’s got them, and it’s totally normal, and it’s usually fun to engage with.

The majority of the time I have no issue with this (I am a wolfstar shipper and even though there is canonical evidence of them in the original HP books, they’re widely accepted online and balked at IRL usually due to homophobia and #that nasty, nasty woman’s bigotry), but over the last few years a certain group of crack shippers have taken it upon themselves to fly a little too close to the sun, and want to make it our (elriels) problem. I am talking about the Glees.

It’s late and this just popped into my head so I want to rant about it.

My friend who got me into ACOTAR gave me a breakdown of the ships (bc I read ToG first and went in blind. I became a doraelin shipper very early on and remained one halfway through QoS, it was a whole thing when I realized they were not end game lol), bc I asked her to after my ToG experience. She told me all the characters names and then told me about feysand and nessian endgames but didn’t mention az or elain’s situation. I asked her about it and she told me that she didn’t want to mention much about Az because “by the end of the series azriel has two options for how his story could go, elain or another way”. She shared some anti elain sentiment with me because she’s “boring and doesn’t do anything”. That went in one ear and out the other with me tbh.

When I started acowar, and feyre returned to the night court, I saw how elain and azriel were interacting and I concluded that mor was the second LI of az bc of acomaf. I was not apart of the fandom online at this point, so I was genuinely in the dark about everything around these two. I was just reading and talking to my friend about what I read. I also want to add that I still liked L*cien at this point in the series (it changed in acofas, I became apathetic towards him rather quickly when I finished reading that whiny ass convo with feyre…..I don’t play when it comes to her) but wasn’t sold on eluce because they had like one interaction and it wasn’t a great intro to a ship.

However this first meeting in acomaf….. :)

‘Can you truly fly?’ He set down his fork, blinking. I might have even called him self-conscious. He said, ‘Yes. Cassian and I hail from a race of faeries called Illyrians. We’re born hearing the song of the wind.’ ‘That’s very beautiful,’

“Rhys chuckled, Cassian’s wrath slipping enough that he grinned, and Elain, noticing Azriel’s ease as proof that things weren’t indeed about to go badly, offered one of her own as well.”

Well imagine my surprise when I finished acowar and it turns out mor (the person az has crushed on for 500 years) comes out to feyre before the book ends and she explains that she can never love az the way he loves her. After three books, and everything that happens in acowar it was clear to me that elain and azriel were being set up as each others love interests, despite the mating bond with l*cien.

After Acofas I was officially on the elriel train. I mean…

“Azriel strode to the lone window at the end of the room and peered into the garden below.”

“Azriel emerged from the sitting room, a glass of wine in hand and wings tucked back to reveal his fine, yet simple black jacket and pants. I felt, more than saw, my sister go still as he approached. Her throat bobbed.”

“But Azriel only took Elain’s heavy dish of potatoes from her hands, his voice soft as night as he said, ‘Sit. I’ll take care of it.’ Elain’s hands remained in midair, as if the ghost of the dish remained between them. With a blink, she lowered them, and noticed her apron. ‘I—I’ll be right back,’ she murmured, and hurried down the hall before I could explain that no one cared if she showed up to dinner covered in flour and that she should just sit.”

“Elain swept in, apron gone and hair rebraided. ‘Please don’t wait on my account,’ she said, taking the seat at the head of the table.”

“He [Azriel] was the portrait of relaxed, an arm braced against the carved mantel, his wings tucked in loosely, a faint grin on his face and a glass of wine in his hand. He slid his hazel eyes toward my sister without him moving an inch.”

“Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea.”

(Damn the more I read elriel’s acofas moments the more I can’t help but conclude that they just hate/don’t understand introverts 😭)

Before I started SF, I decided to look at the online fandom and bitch……my jaw hit the floor with all the elain/elriel hate I saw on TT. And everyone was talking about a newer character in SF, and I was seeing the glee fan art and was like oh shit ok maybe elriel isn’t endgame.

Fast forward to SF……

‘What happened to Elain?’

“Nesta saw the blow land, like a physical impact, in Elain’s face, her posture. No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like snakes preparing to strike. Elain’s eyes brightened with pain.”

……and I’m thinking ok, az obviously likes her. Then comes az’s BC. When I finished the elriel portion of the BC I was actually crying bc I was like oh fuck I really love these two….I knew it was over for me, and I was freaked out bc I thought I was going to get got with this “new ship” involving az. Plus I was thinking about elain being left alone in the dark without any explanation and feeling like an idiot for finally showing her true feelings towards him😭. It was like 3AM when I read it so I was hyper emotional lol. But then I read the rest of the BC and was still confused because I didn’t see any romantic subtext with g/wyn. I read it and saw a hurt male who couldn’t stand what he had done to elain the night before, was pissed at his brother for stopping it and making him feel bad when he was finally willing to voice what he’s been feeling for the past year or so and hating that he was shut down because we know he never voices his emotions, and couldn’t bear keeping a gift he picked out specifically for her. A necklace…..for solstice……Then I finished SF as a whole, and still, was confused as to why glee is a ship. Nearly all of their conversations were centered around training, and Sarah didn’t use any descriptors in their encounters that elude to any romance or mutual interest. (Btw I have a whole take on rhys’ part in that BC and I think a lot of ppl are dense and don’t understand what he was going through in that book but I can save that for another time)

Cassian and Feyre have more chemistry than those too lol.

I then talked to my friend about the these ships (elriel, eluce, and glee) ((i didn’t talk about eluce much in this post but that’s a lifeless ship too. I mean…..she can’t stand that red head anyway soooo)), and I said “I’m an elriel through and through. Idc that eluce are claimed to be mates you can tell she does not like him. also glee makes no sense to me.” Not verbatim but you get the point. My friend is very sensible so by the end of our convo, she told me that she’ll accept whatever way Sarah goes and that she’ll give elain a chance when her book comes out.

But isn’t that what all of this shit is about in the end: unjustified dislike/distain/hate for elain? That’s certainly how is appears to me. You cannot look me in the eyes and tell me that you love elain if you ship her with a male whom she has expressed, on multiple occasions, zero interest in AND becomes a shell of herself when he’s around because she just doesn’t want to interact with him. (I want to reiterate that I don’t hate L, I don’t think he’s awful or anything. elain just doesn’t want to know him. And that’s her right.) The glees don’t like her bc she doesn’t fit their stereotype for what they want in an FMC and therefore, for azriel. Which is why they have been chirping that the next book will be azriel’s. Not elain’s….WHAT??? You sound fucking crazy. The eluces (even though they claim they like her) dislike her so much that they go on and on about how she needs to grovel and apologize to the male they like because HE deserves to be happy……the same male who she associates with one of the most traumatic days of her life. Who also has not apologized to her for the part he played in that day, but I digress.

I say all that to point out that Glee specifically is in the crack ship category. No canonical evidence in the text can be used to claim they are ‘mates’ or endgame or anything more than acquaintances. And that’s fine, but don’t act as though they’re to be taken seriously as a canon ship when there’s no evidence to support it. Don’t boldly claim that azriel “has two love interests” when he literally doesn’t. He can’t sleep because of elain. He can’t stop thinking about her. He’s short with his family and others around him the days and weeks following solstice. His shadows threaten to strike nesta when she hurts elain and causes her pain. He doesn’t assign his spies to watch L*cien in acofas because he doesn’t want to know if he’s trying to court elain. He goes full lethal when he hears she may have been hurt. He follows the sound of her laugh to see what caused it. He goes on a suicide mission to save her. They communicate through looks alone when their family is around. Have you read an SJM book before? This is how she sets up her relationships. Like, holy fuck.

You cannot claim elriel is a crack ship because they have had background build up that both FMCs in their respective books have noticed and commented on. Cassian has noticed it too DESPITE not being hyper aware of what’s going on with az in SF. (referencing the scene in SF where elain tells everyone at family dinner about nesta’s love for dancing and the ball story from when they were human).

This ship war shit is fucking crazy because really this should only be between elriel nation and the eluces. Anyway, I’m over dealing with the fever dream brigade and their hallucinations. They’re going to come crashing down like Icarus when the elriel bible release day arrives and all our suffering will finally come to an end.

Then after that I’ll need to defeat the tamlin redemption arch threats, bc that is not a claim, that’s a fuckin threat and I won’t stand for it. But let’s tackle one problem at a time.

Pink: side notes/thoughts that give more context to my points

Blue italics: convos I’ve had being referenced

Purple: elriel moments <3

[vintagemulti]

shards and splinters

parings: marc spector x reader , steven grant x reader

desc: apparently what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. now you’ve died and returned alive, perhaps it’s time to test that theory; or risk losing your life once and for all.

warnings: blood, angst, swearing, fighting, guns and gun violence, death descriptions, long as fuck, sex mentions i guess(? if you squint), hurt/comfort, gory i guess (jake🤷🏻‍♀️) writers note: idk how accurate these are bc i’ve been writing this on and off for years but cover all bases i guess xx

a/n: psa to pls reblog anyway she’s BAAAAAACKKK did you miss me ?? i missed youse … if there’s even a moonknight fandom anymore 🫣 i’m so sorry for the 2 years gone from the face of tumblr, i’ve quite honestly had two years from hell and insane writers block so. can anyone even remember this series?? idk maybe you should all reread the first parts 👀👀 anyways. there’ll be one more part to this (will it come this year? next? 2026? who knows…) bc i HATED my original ending and just had to change it. also sorry if this feels rushed or like it jumps around a lot, it’s been written over YEARS, but i’ve tried my best for continuity. also, i know there’s a lot missing in like fight scenes but they are BORING and i hate writing em so i’m not doing it. tried, got half way thru then didn’t touch this for 7 months so.. it’s no fight scene or no part at all. but my last part is pretty much done so hopefully it’ll be posted soon! ill let youse savour this for a while tho lol. on a real note thank you all SO much for all the love, even two years later. it means the world. all my love, all the time x

series masterlist

masterlist

the air felt different now. it was funny; you and marc had been apart hundreds, if not thousands of times, but he had never felt your absence. not like this. no, never like this. it was different now because he knew he could look for you everywhere and you would still be in that room, not breathing, not living.

he could see it all so clearly now. all of what? all of it. everything; life, your life, his life, where everything went wrong, what he should have done, should have said, how he could have saved you.

there was nothing you could have done, marc.

“that’s easy for you to say.” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. “you’re not the one who was halfway through a fucking argument when harrow took her. and if you can remember, harrow took her because of me.”

steven sighed, and went quiet.

“i should’ve died on that fucking alter.”

marc said it over and over, like a prayer, to go back in time and pull the trigger. he was fuck knows where, it looked like the middle of the desert but marc didn’t care enough to question it.

he had walked out of that pyramid and kept on walking - for hours. the hot egyptian sun had began to set, casting a rosy hue on everything. the humidity make marc’s head ache.

steven had gone silent - a small hum of anger in the back of marc’s head. it usually would have surprised marc, for steven to be the angry one. but he wasn’t sure he would never feel surprised again.

are you going to wallow here forever?

marc looked up, low sun glinting in his eyes, making him squint. but he could tell exactly who it was - crescent staff in his peripheral.

“fuck off.”

khonshu laughed. that’s one way to talk to a god.

“fuck off.” he repeated.

and why should i, mortal? why should i listen to you?

“you did this.” it was stiff, cold, a definite statement. “you did this to us.”

khonshu groaned, moving to block the sun from marc’s eyes so he could see him properly. aren’t you going to question how i am here?

“no.”

perhaps you should.

marc could never cope with khonshu’s riddles. they had always infuriated him - never getting a straight answer. but this one, he could tolerate.

“fuck does that mean?” he was looking directly into khonshu’s eyes now - something he had readily avoided for years. “and don’t give me any of your goddamn riddles.”

if you must be so blunt, it would seem like osiris has taken a liking to your poor lady wife. hathor isn’t half fond of her, either. maybe you ought to go back to the pyramid, something tells me your needed.

and he was gone. disappeared with a gust of wind, leaving marc alone in the saharan sunset, shaking and still covered in his wife’s blood.

she’s alive?

“i-” marc looked around. “i don’t-”

his eyes slipped into the back of his head.

steven took a deep breath, swallowing hard. he set off in a run - towards the pyramid.

-

“this feels so fucking weird.”

you were pressed flat against the wall, peeking around every few seconds to make sure one of harrow’s followers wasn’t coming your way.

i must admit, it’s been a while since i’ve had an avatar.

you let out a breathy laugh. was that your first ever laugh since being revived? you supposed it must be. oh, you wished it was one of steven’s jokes you were laughing at instead.

you didn’t think you’d ever find one of his jokes unfunny again.

“where is he?”

it’s hard to tell. i can’t check, unless i’d like ammit to spot me.

humming, you looked around the corner once again, breath hitching when you saw a shadow come closer.

what made your breath stop completely, however, was the slow, melodic tapping of a cane, following every footstep the person took.

harrow was less than two feet away from you.

swallowing hard, you pushed yourself against the wall even harder, back cold against the concrete. you hoped - prayed with your newfound faith in osiris and his mercy - that harrow would turn back the other way, not hearing your thumping heart.

but your luck had ran out for this lifetime.

the tapping of the cane became louder, until you could see the tip of it in your peripheral, crunching glass finally becoming audible. he was about to come around the corner, and see you. you would be impossible to miss, even the bright red of your new outfit making you stand out.

it seemed like it was impossible to escape harrow, and the tapping of his cane. he had killed you once, what would stop him from doing it again?

apparently, a guardian angel. someone spoke, making harrow turn to look behind him.

this was your chance - to slip away and turn the opposite corner, escape harrow in your new life as you couldn’t in your last.

his voice made you flinch. cool, charming, low. like a snake - exactly like a snake, now you thought about it. the way he slid through life, from the bar all those years ago, to now, awakening a centuries old god, aiming to destroy the world.

you could slither away too, though.

still holding your breath, you sidestepped along the wall, making sure to watch your step over any lose stones, until the wall fell away behind you and led you into another corridor.

as soon as the light from the hall had faded, you let out your breath, hands coming to your forehead and rubbing your eyes.

we have to keep moving. ammit is almost ready to begin.

nodding - although it felt like your brain was rattling around your skull - you looked back up and saw hathor, still looking as beautiful as ever.

this hallway was much dimmer than the last. colder, too. it was like all the light had been blocked, the only thing keeping your vision was the small, fading candles lining the walls every meter or so.

perhaps it was your natural instinct, or a new given sense as an avatar, but you could tell - something wasn’t right. something in the air had shifted, on top of the hot, sticky, egyptian heat, there was something sinister.

your years as a mercenary had taught you to recognise something - blood in the air. and there was certainly blood in the air around you.

“what is harrow’s plan?”

he wants to judge people. through ammit, he believes he can rid the world of everyone bad, even if they aren’t already bad.

“so he’s playing god?” the corridor seemed to go on forever.

he would never admit it, but yes. and ammit is the perfect enabler for him, she’ll know exactly what he’s up to, but because he can give her her power back, she’ll play along.

you scoffed lightly. “harrow isn’t stupid either. he’ll know what she thinks.”

hathor shrugged, a few paces in front of you. only time will tell, my dear.

for a few minutes, the walk along the corridor was silent. the tap of your shoes echoed down the hall, breeze from your passing flickering the candles on the wall.

why did you marry him?

it stopped you in your tracks, hathor stopping too.

“what?”

marc. why did you marry him?

you stuttered for a moment, looking around as if someone would come and help you.

i don’t mean it in a rude way. i’m the goddess of love, it’s natural for me to want to know.

“well,” you paused for a moment and began walking again, slower this time. “we were young when we met, i was coming up for 18 and he was 19.”

and?

“and i knew what i had done to him.” you swallowed. “i felt fucking awful, i thought, maybe if i get to know the guy, and he’s not as much of an ass as everyone makes him out to be, it’ll make it easier for me to forgive myself.”

the corridor kept on, as if it were never ending.

“as you can tell, it didn’t work.”

he wasn’t as much of an asshole as everyone thought?

“no, he was,” you gave a dry smile. “it just so happened that assholes are my type, and i think he worked it out pretty quickly. so after only about two months of knowing each other, he asked me on a date. a real date. it was my first ever date too, god knows anton never took me out. but god, he was such a gentleman.

he picked me up, gave me flowers, wore a fucking tie. and he payed for everything, too. dinner at a four star restaurant, a movie, then out to a bar for drinks.

i knew i had fucked up when he kissed me that night.”

you regret it?

“not for a day. and that’s my mistake- i mean, i was supposed to hate him. i told myself i would hate him. so i wouldn’t feel bad about telling someone to kill him. i didn’t even know how he got out alive- he didn’t tell me about the khonshu shit until after we got married.

oh, our wedding,” you smiled again, a real one. “it was perfect. i was twenty one, marc was twenty three. we were so young. it was a small wedding, just some friends, neither of us invited our family. it was the best night of my life.

it was the night i met steven, too. i think the stress of the day must have triggered it. and that was it- there was marc, and there was steven.”

didn’t it take a while to get used to?

the corridor began to open up, getting slightly wider by the meter. still - there was no end to it in sight.

“it did and it didn’t. i knew for a while there was something happening to him, he would disappear, look confused all the time. i knew it was a matter of time until something changed. and then came steven, perfect steven.

he changed so much- it was like dating all over again. he was even more perfect than marc, stupid english accent included. but, naturally, abuthing that’s perfect must come to an end.”

hathor sighed. and it gave you the impression, just for a moment, that she already knew the whole story. that she was humouring you by letting you tell it. her sigh, sad and resigned, almost confirmed that she knew what was coming.

“the-” you stopped. your voice had broken, and your feet no longer moved. hathor continued for a few paces before looking back at you.

i understand, but if there’s any time you need to tell this, it’s now.

“you know?” you voiced your suspicions.

take into account which god i am, my dear. there is no one else i could chose, but you.

you swallowed. “what’s the point of talking about it if you already know?”

you have been born again. revived. would you like to carry this, this horrible vendetta against someone who has done nothing but love you, for the rest of your new life?

“no.”

then voice it. i can take this pain from you, if you only ask me too. i can help you.

you bit your tongue, looking down at your feet and kicking around a few of the loose rocks. hathor waited.

“the baby was supposed to be born just after my twenty-third birthday.”

a beat. hathor didn’t reply.

“but he didn’t live past twelve weeks.”

you looked back up at hathor, anxious for a reply. she didn’t give you one, only nodding.

“i don’t- i don’t know what i did. i was waiting until i could get a scan, tell marc, have it done properly, you know? but when i went to my appointment, i knew. she didn’t say anything, she just looked. then she left, got the doctor to come in.

he said that the baby had died, that they weren’t sure of the cause, but it was a boy. that my baby boy had died.”

tears threatened your eyes. never - never - had you spoken about this before. not even with marc.

“i went home, with a hatred in my heart. the next few days were the worst. i was grieving a child no one knew i even had. the blood was horrible, it hurt so badly. i told marc i was on my period. fuck, for all he knew i was.

and then my baby was gone. and i hated marc.”

why did you hate him?

you shrugged. “i have no idea. i needed someone to blame and marc was the easiest. that’s when it all went downhill, you know? i wanted him to be there for me, for something he didn’t even know happened. and when he wasn’t, i blew up at him. and he blew up at me.

and that was it, for three years. this horrible hatred towards each other, me hating marc for something he knew nothing about, and marc hating me for every other reason.

he hated me the most for making him stay a mercenary. he wanted out, he wanted a normal life in the suburbs with a dog and a big house and maybe, one day, a child.

but i can’t have that. i don’t want that kind of normal - not when i was so close to it and lost it. so i pushed him into this world. i made him take jobs and work himself to death, even when i found out about khonshu. i made him do it.

and that’s why we’re here. because i told him to follow khonshu here. and now look what i’ve done.”

hathor took two, wide steps towards you, and cradled your face in her hands.

you have done nothing that makes you inhumane. none of this mess is you fault. khonshu would have gotten marc here one way or another. anyone in your shoes would be the same.

her hands were warm. you felt a tear fall, running underneath her fingers. “but i’ve been so horrible. i’m a monster - if not for this, for everything else.”

hathor shook her head. you are a human being.

there was silence as you cried and hathor wiped your tears. at least two minutes passed - but it didn’t matter to you. harrow could come running around the corner and you wouldn’t bat an eyelash.

hathor took a deep breath, looking to her left along the corridor. she opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, another figure appeared.

is now a bad time, human?

you flinched at the rough edge in khonshu’s voice. “what do you want?”

what do i want? there’s a long list.

even through your tears, your patience thinned. “seriously?”

hathor took her hands from your face, turning to look at khonshu. enough of your riddles. just tell her.

the unmistakable sound of footsteps, running, drew your attention. they were getting closer.

i don’t think i have to say a word, actually.

just as khonshu had finished, a figure appeared, coming around the twists and turns of the corridor.

your heart stopped.

marc looked around in a daze, eyes falling first on khonshu, then on hathor, then…

“y/n!”

just as he had stopped running, he started again, coming towards you like a lion out of his cage, wrapping his arms around you and lifting you off of your feet.

“oh baby,” he mumbled into your neck.

you had just reached - wrapping your arms around him in equal tightness, hands flying into his hair. oh, god. his hair - his curls, his skin - you’d never take it for granted again.

he pulled back, hands on your cheeks in a mirror image to hathor. his eyes locked into yours, brown irises melting into his pupils, filling with tears.

marc stuttered, trying to get several sentences out at once, before you hushed him.

“please, marc, we don’t have much time. harrow is gonna-”

“i know,” he nodded, eyes still not breaking from yours. “i know- baby, i know. please- please, just give me a minute. i never- i thought i’d never- oh, baby.”

he leaned in, moving his hands out of the way to rest his forehead against yours. he was hot - sticky with sweat and dirt and, although you didnt want to think about it, your blood.

“i know,” you whispered, closing your eyes. “marc, i know.”

barely having finished your sentence, he leaned in and kissed you.

it was like the first kiss all over again, and you supposed it was. hot, needy, passionate, desperate. you could live in this moment.

but the unmistakable sound of khonshu clearing his throat broke your kiss.

if you wouldn’t mind, harrow is about to release ammit. i’m sure your couples catch-up can wait another hour.

“yeah,” you nodded, breaking away, but marc was far more hesitant to let go.

“i can’t-” he looked around, paranoid. “i can’t do this, y/n. i just lost you, i can’t run the risk of losing you again, i’ve never- y/n, i can’t let you go, you’re everything to me, and if harrow- oh god, what did harrow do to you? i swear to god, the minute i see him, i’m gonna-”

he blinked. a beat.

“paranoid git never did know when to be quiet, did he?”

“oh, steven,” you threw your arms around him again. “fucking hell.”

steven, unlike marc, seemed far more willing to let you go. “love, i know, but if we don’t go now, we’re all gonna end up dead. please, we can do this all after, yeah?”

he took your hands in his, stilling your shaking fingers. he was so warm - always so warm.

“okay,” you nodded, looking between him and the gods beside you. “okay.”

-

you had severely underestimated how far harrow was willing to go. it had been what felt like hours, an unrelenting fight. you weren’t even sure when layla showed up, hoping to help you in any way she could.

but her attempts were futile; ammit was huge. really - huge, bigger than the pyramid behind her. khonshu had, as usual, gotten involved too, so that meant he was the same size, almost trampling you with every step he took.

you had tried. really, you had. you’d tried to use your new found avatar abilities to at least land something on harrow, but truth be told, you were failing. he’d hit you far more times that you’d even aimed for him, you were covered in cuts and rapidly forming bruises, you were sure your shoulder was dislocated.

but worst of all? your head wasn’t right. you weren’t sure what was wrong with it - it seemed fine every time you focused on identifying the issue, but every time you weren’t paying attention, it was there again. dizzy, a ringing in your eyes, everything a second or two behind; your vision lagging and cloudy. but just as you’d notice it, it was gone.

it was getting worse, too. you could see marc out of the corner of your eye; he was one to one with harrow. it would have made you anxious if you could properly focus on what was going on. but you couldn’t - your thought were scattered, a ringing back tenfold in your ears, the world had gone distant and hazy.

the doctors told you it was a concussion the next morning. layla had actually came in very handy, able to translate the man’s arabic into english for you.

he had told you that you’d sustained a massive head injury - you figured it would have been investigated, if you hadn’t been one of the people there last night.

‘there’ was all people could talk about. first the sky had gone backwards (you’d missed that part, thanks to being dead), then, out of nowhere, two ancient egyptian gods had appeared, destroying all the buildings in their wake, pyramids too.

it wasn’t that you couldn’t remember it. you could - it was clear in every aspect. it just didn’t feel like you’d been there at all. even the build up to it, every moment from when you’d stepped out of that pyramid, hand in hand with steven, hot air hitting your face;

it wasn’t you.

well, obviously it was you. but it wasn’t the same you. everything felt different, you didn’t have the same emotions you did before. the same key ones, yes, like how you felt about marc, and steven, and who you are as a person, but basic thing, like fear, and compassion? it was gone.

you’d have voiced this to a doctor if you could put ‘i died and got brought back to like by an ancient god, but not the same one who destroyed half of your city last night, sorry about that, by the way’ into layman’s terms.

trauma induced dissociation was enough of a label for you. it fit - everything just felt a little hazy, was all. not that you’d asked your doctor, a google search (excluding the resurrection part) had taken you to pages and pages about dissociation and how it’s normal to feel it after a traumatic event. you were pretty sure dying was a traumatic event.

and yes, you could bring it up to your doctor, he was payed to help you, after all. but there was a strange gnawing in the back of your head: that if you voiced this feeling, it would only get worse, and the happy ending you and your husband currently had would be shred in two because you couldn’t feel properly.

so instead, you listened to his professional diagnosis; a severe concussion, fractured rib, dislocated shoulder, several cosmetic wounds, and mental trauma that would be discovered at a later point, if you ever got around to voicing it to a doctor.

what a lovely shopping list, you thought.

-

it was three days before they let you out, and marc wasn’t getting out for another two after that. you’d had to beg him to even go to the hospital in the first place, but now he was getting the medical attention he’d needed for years, he seemed content in his hospital bed. not that he’d ever admit it.

with two days to yourself (not nights, you’d go back to the hospital and stay with marc), you decided to have the egyptian holiday you had come for.

the first stop was obvious; buy clothes. all of the ones you had were either covered in blood or halfway shredded. once you’d achieved this, in a new white linen sundress (cut below the knees to hide the still raw scars), you felt just slightly lost.

of course, you weren’t lost, you were always quick to get your bearings in new places - mercenary years had left you with a few skills, after all - and you kept yourself in a fairly small area, close to the hospital in case you got an emergency call.

no - the feeling of being lost came from deep down. ever since you’d come back to life it was the same, a strange longing for something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. something you felt you just had to have, maybe not right now, but in the near future. the hazy feeling had already begun to pass, you were sure google had served you well. but it left behind this in its wake, a new, even stranger feeling.

a breeze blew your hair lightly as you looked down the street in front of you. it was picturesque, all kinds of small shops and cafes as far as you could see. you could hear kids playing somewhere, a baby crying in the distance.

the lost-longing feeling piqued at this.

“oh.” you breathed. “oh.”

beside you, hathor, dressed in a golden, floor length dress and looking beautiful as ever, laughed.

oh, indeed. did you forget which god i am?

[lilystyles]

watermelon sugar, highhhh.

part two of the no strings attached series by @lilystyles

no strings attached masterlist & main masterlist xxx

authors note part two baby, enjoy! i hope you all like it i'm still a bit iffy about it! gif creds to original owner. BTW THANKS SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE FIRST PART OF THIS SERIES KISSES TO U ALL I APPRECIATE ALL THE REBLOGS AND LIKES XX (i can't believe the amount of likes fr!)

brief description basically why harry wrote watermelon sugar high, in my head at least anyway. ;)))

warnings! mentions of sex and sexual themes, smut! (f! receiving, fingering) drug abuse (reader doesn't participate), and swearing. around 5k words :)

inexperienced!virgin!reader x high!fwb!harry

* * * * *

It had been a few weeks since she last saw Harry. She had been avoiding the whole situation completely. If someone asked her she’d deny avoiding him. But whenever she shut her eyes all she saw was him, those green eyes. So he wasn’t forgotten.

Y/n was absolutely ruined that evening. After her long day of lectures, she was so overwhelmed this week and was not feeling her best. She felt like giving up and taking a nap. She had only just gotten home from uni and it was dark outside, she felt like she hadn’t stopped all week. So she was thankful it was a Friday because she didn’t know what she’d do if she had to get up tomorrow morning. She decided to take a long shower and wash the day off her skin and warm up. It had been a long cold and rainy day. She just wanted to get cosy and relax. Get out of this bra, these clothes.

When she got out of the shower smelling fresh and feeling warm, she decided to order Italian for dinner from the local place near her and have a quiet night in, she couldn’t be bothered to cook. 

The group had invited her out tonight but she was so tired she couldn’t be bothered. Anyway, Harry was going and she wasn’t ready to face him just yet. Things had been different ever since New Year’s. She felt different around him, and she didn’t know what that would mean for their friendship. She valued it so much and was worried she’d ruined it. She didn’t know what to do.

She called up the Italian place for dinner while scrolling through Netflix. She sighed, sadly. She felt so stupid right now.

She ordered enough food to fill up her rumbling stomach and pressed play on an all-time favourite comfort movie of hers. Notting Hill. God, she loved Hugh Grant. Harry used to make fun of how much she would watch this when they were roommates and honestly he wasn’t wrong. She watched it more than the average person, but was that such a crime?

She had gotten about a third of the way into the film when her phone buzzed on the table. She rarely got texts anymore, especially considering she only really talked to Daisy by text. She just called everyone else. She was expecting a drunk selfie from Daisy saying how sad she was sad that Y/n wasn’t there. But it wasn’t her.

NO CALLER ID

Y/n why didn’t you come out tonight? I miss you.

She was confused about who it could be. It had to be one of her mates. But seriously she had all their numbers. So who was this?

who is this?

The text was read instantly. Then three dots. Y/n’s heart weirdly began to race.

NO CALLER ID

It’s H. 

Obviously.

Who else are you texting at this hour, missy???

She giggled. He must be drunk, he was always like this when he was drunk. Even though she had been avoiding him; he was like a breath of fresh air. She had missed him. She now realised in the two years he had been away from her she had missed him, too much to let him go.

u drunk haz?

bc u sound drunk.

The text was again read instantly.

NO CALLER ID

I’m not drunk! How dare you!1!!!1

i don’t believe you harold.

NO CALLER ID

:((((((

Y/nnnnnnnnnn

why you sad?

NO CALLER ID

I want you.

what does that mean H?

Read. Then suddenly the replies stopped. Y/n felt stupid all over again but after ten minutes of checking, she put her phone down and tried to focus on the film. She was kind of worried though, was he okay? 

Thoughts of him disappeared as the food arrived. 

She ate slowly and sluggishly while Notting Hill continued to play. It was now up to the bit where naked photos of her had just been realised and she came rushing to Hugh Grant’s aid. She liked this part, it was so intimate and romantic. 

Her tiredness got the best of her though, her full belly and the warmth that her fireplace gave her sent her right off to dreamland. Notting Hill continued to play while she curled up under her old knitted blanket. Soft snores escaped her mouth as the fire crackled.

When she woke up it was probably around two am. She was startled and in the dark, Notting Hill was over, the fire had turned to coals, and the rain had turned to thunder. There was a banging at the door. She thought in her fuzzy mind it might be Daisy or even Miss Jones from next door who was an old lady that always thought Y/n was being loud. She sighed walking over to the door and opening it. Rubbing her eyes. Preparing for either a drunk best mate or an angry old woman.

It was neither of the people she expected. Sleep was still with her, eyes squinted and sore, and her voice was gravelly and quiet when she spoke. 

“Harry?”

He was smirking, of course, dimples and all. Eyes all hooded and sultry, he looked edible like this.

His hair was wet but his clothes were dry except for the tops of his shoulders. He was in a 70s ensemble. This orangey red shaded v-neck jumper was on his chest, some dark wash vintage flares on his legs, and some old white boots. His eyes were red and he was obviously under the influence. Of what? Well, she’d soon find out.

“Can I come in?” He asked. She nodded stepping out of the way. Even though things were different the love for him was still there, she’d have let him in her door no matter what, and she would always be at his beck and call. That’s what scared her. 

“Cute shorts.” He said touching her hip, Y/n blushed up at him. 

They were these old bunny print ones that were too small but she refused to throw them out. She was wearing the bunny slippers that matched too and some shirt that she actually thinks was Harry’s back from when they were roommates. It was navy and so worn it had faded.

He stepped inside. She could smell the potent scent of weed and his cologne. “I’m not going to lie, I’ve ‘ad some spliffs tonight. But I wanted to see you regardless. This just sorta’ happened, y’know how James and I get when we are together.”

Y/n did know. The number of times she’d have to help him get to bed way back when.

“Haz darling, I’m going to go home,” Y/n said softly. He was sat on the couch, high as a kite. 

“What? Why?” He sat up now. Hand reaching hers. 

She smiled. “Not really in the mood tonight, Haz. That’s okay though. Stay, have fun with James. Be safe, yeah?”

He stood up, all wobbly. She helped him steady himself. “Don’t go. Please?”

He got really affectionate and soft when he was high. She’d noticed that. Drunk Harry was all loud laughs and chaos. This scintillating star. High Harry was mellow and touchy. Like a teddy bear.

“‘M tired though, H.”

He grabbed his coat from the couch. “Then I’ll come too.”

She sighed pouting softly. “Not trying to ruin your fun, I know how you and James are.”

“You aren’t. Promise. Take me home please.” He said grabbing her hand. She smiled up at him. 

“Okay.”

“I love you, you know.” He said resting his head on her hair. “Y’one of m’best friends.”

“I love you too, Harry. Always.”

“Okay.” She said softly and he followed her to the couch, which was still warm from her sleeping body.

He put a hand on her thigh it was warm and soft to his touch, and he stroked it to calm them both. There was a nervous energy in the room, which was rare for them. It had always been calm and tranquil when they were together.

“Sorry for waking y’up.” He said, genuinely seeming apologetic.

“It’s alright, Haz. What’s up?” She had a feeling about what he’d say next.

He sighed. “I know we said we’d forget it, but I can’t. I really can’t.”

“It was supposed to be no strings attached…” Y/n said quietly. Because she thought that’s what he wanted.

He looked over. “I know. That’s why I came here.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked down at his hands nervously. “I wanted to talk to you about the whole one-night-only thing.”

“Go on….” She turned her body to face him, eyes glued to his handsome face.

“I want to be with you like that again. I want more than just that night Y/n. It's driving me mad. I want you so fucking bad.” He said waiting for a response, nervous.

She could tell he was high, but she could also tell he was telling the truth. He didn’t tend to lie when he was high. “Like friends with benefits?”

“Yeah sure….only if you want to though. I got the impression that you regretted the other night, but if there’s even the slightest chance you might want this. I need to know. If you don’t, well, at least I’ll know. It’s the not knowing that’s making me crazy, Love.”

She put her hand on top of his giving it a squeeze. “I don’t regret it, H. How could I regret you? I just- I don’t know how I’m supposed to be around you now.”

He laughed a short laugh leaning into her side. “Just be yourself Y/n.”

“Easier said than done.”

He just shook his head at her. 

“It’s a deal.”

Harry’s head snapped over, eyes wide and heart pounding so loud he could hear it in his ears. “What?”

She laughed, throwing her head back. “I want to. I really do, but you know we can’t do anything tonight, right?”

His smile quickly turned into a big pout. Hair falling over his eyes. “What? Why?”

“You are unbelievably high. Look at those pupils!” She jested hands resting on his cheeks as she looked into his eyes. There was hardly any green left in them.

“They always get like that when I’m with you.” He leaned closer to show her them. The green had been swallowed by black, his long eyelashes fluttering. His eyelids had gone all swollen from smoking. 

She rolled her eyes at him pushing his head gently away. “Shut up. You really are terribly charming. It’s annoying Harold, you know that?”

“Why’s that?” He smiled hands rubbing her thighs. Her soft plump skin was soothing to play with. His hands were calloused but still soft against her.

“I feel like one of your fangirls. Seriously. Speaking of which, we better keep this a secret shouldn’t we?” She put her legs to rest on his lap. His hand stroked her shin gently, relaxing into the couch. He leaned back against the couch, feeling calm.

He cocked his head. “Why?”

“You’re a rockstar. I’m just some random from Holmes Chapel. I reckon your fans will go crazy.”

He frowned. “They know who you are already but just for our privacy, I think so. It’s hard being under the spotlight. I don’t want your privacy taken from you just because of me. People who I’m seeing or any girl really get a lot of hate, I don’t want that to happen to you.”

She nodded, letting silence fill the space.

“Can I eat you out now?” He said abruptly. 

She laughed in shock her face turning bright red as she laughed loudly. “No.”

He pouted like a little kid throwing a tantrum. “I just wanna taste you.”

He knew how to get her all riled up. She hated it, he really was good at everything he did. Proving all previous fantasies to be correct.

“Harry, we can’t. It’d be taking advantage.” She replied, knowing she wanted him more than anything right now.

“Of who? Me? It doesn’t matter how sober, drunk, or high I am Y/n ’m still gonna’ want to eat yeh' out so bad.”

She laughed shyly getting up. She had never been so openly wanted, he made her feel sexy. It was a strange feeling because her whole life she had been told she was anything but. Especially because she'd gone this long being a virgin. “Let’s just sleep. Maybe when your sober, okay?”

He pouted again, grabbing her extended hand as she helped him find her room. His arms wrapped around her shoulders across her chest as he followed, feet heavy on the rug.

Her bedroom was chilly when they stepped inside. He clung to her for a moment his nose brushing against her neck, lips grazing her skin. “S’cold in here.”

“Yeah.” She replied, feeling goosebumps arise. She didn’t know if it was the cold or Harry who made her feel that way. 

He began to take off his clothes until he was just in boxers she was gonna offer him some clothes but he didn’t seem to care about being naked near her.

She stared at the art that was his body. She hadn’t had much chance to ogle him when they were together last. She noticed the new tattoos, itching to touch them, and ask about them but she refrained.

The tanned skin and rippling muscles, the whisps of hair on his chest, the snail trail on his navel. He was just fucking gorgeous.

“You're staring.” He said. She chose to ignore him, which only made him laugh at her.

She lifted the blankets for him. They were different sheets from last time. These were pink and Harry recognised them from when they were roommates. 

“In you get.”

He jumped in childishly and she joined him. 

Her window was slightly ajar so they could hear the rain bucketing down, it was loud but peaceful. He curled into her back. His hand slid onto her stomach underneath her shirt as he pressed her closer to him, soaking up her warmth.

“G’night, love.”

“Night Harry. Sweet dreams.” She replied.

He kissed her neck. “Trust me, they will be very sweet.” 

Harry was an early riser, he always had been. He loved the mornings. Even when they were roommates and he’d been out partying he’d still get up earlier than Y/n. She on the other hand hated mornings, she always got so grumpy and if he could he avoided waking her up at all costs. 

Even after his late night yesterday, he was still the first up of them both. It was around half past six, and the rain was still heavy and coming down. He sighed peacefully, Y/n was still curled up at his side soft breaths escaping her mouth. She looked so peaceful in his arms.

They’d barely moved all night, the last thing he remembered was her by his side tracing his tattoos with her fingers. Her leg was thrown over his hips and her arms were still clinging to his body. He could stay like this forever. He was kind of foggy after last night, he’d forgotten he’d come all the way over here, but it was a pleasant surprise to have her there next to him.

She moved quite a bit in her sleep, he’d always known that about her. She began to squirm a bit shifting her hips against his side, thigh rubbing over his boxers. “Mm.” She groaned, and he watched her to see if she was awake. But nothing. 

She kept wriggling against him, and against his own will, he felt his boxers grow tighter. He sighed, holding in a laugh at the thought of last night. It’s honestly the only thing that had been on his mind for days, which probably made him sound like a horny old bastard, but he’d never felt like that before except with Y/n. All she’d done was give him a blowjob and he’d had enough of those to know how it goes.

He’d even started a song about this feeling. It was in the works, but he had to laugh at himself. It was about the female orgasm. Or as he called it “the sweetness in life.” He really couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the idea once again. 

His tongue, her. How perfect would it be? Like art being made.

He felt her start to make more noise beside him, pulling him out of his filthy thoughts. 

“H?” She whispered groggily, voice hoarse. 

He looked down. “Hi, petal.”

She rumbled a groan, stretching her arms out her shirt riding up revealing her tummy. “What time is it?” He reminded her of a cat, all stretched out like that.

“I dunno, early though. Probably sixish.” He replied, hand rubbing her back. “How’d you sleep?”

“I can’t focus on what you just said when your dicks hard sticking into me,” She teased, “Can you start again?”

He laughed cheeks going a bit pink. “Sorry, I would’ve moved you but you are not the happiest in the mornings, I wanted to keep my head from being bitten off.”

She rolled her eyes ignoring that comment. “How long have you been awake?”

“A little while.” His eyes hadn’t moved off her face the entire time. 

“How’d you sleep?”

He pulled her closer, one hand on her lower back and the other on her thigh. She could really feel him now. It made this whole thing seem real. This was the first time they’d been like this when they were sober. Her confidence felt smaller and weaker. The tequila was what gave her the courage to get with him in the first place. 

“Perfectly.”

She just nodded trying not to focus on his achingly hard cock sticking into her. The feel of him already had her giddy. “Good. Can I make you a tea or coffee? You hungry?”

She was about to get up but he grabbed her. “‘M ravenous,”

She innocently started to list off what she had for food in her flat. “Well I have some toast, I can make pancakes, and I have cheerios—”

“You’re so cute, Y/n.”

She cocked her head. “Uh- Thanks?”

He kissed her hairline, “I haven’t forgotten our conversation from last night. Have you?”

She blushed, finally realising what he was insinuating. “No. How could I forget that?”

“Can I kiss you?”

She nodded, moving her face close to his, and their noses brushed softly.

As he leaned forward she could feel his warm breath on her face. He pecked her lips softly at first pulling back to kiss her nose too, then one of her rosy cheeks. Before finally placing his lips on hers firmer this time. It was deep and slow, with no urgency in it. He wanted to take his time and enjoy waking up with such an opportunity in front of him. 

He wanted her like this every morning. 

Y/n knew she’d never had a boyfriend let alone a friends-with-benefits before this. The most she’d done is kiss a few dates or strangers in a bar. But for some reason, she felt this was rather intimate for two people who claimed to be just friends who have just sex.

What drew the line between friends who are fucking and people dating? Is the fact they slept together and cuddled up all night something more than friends do? Or is it all part of this whole deal they had, did that just come with it? She had no idea, and she wondered if Harry was like this with everyone he slept with casually. She had to admit sometimes she got sad when she saw how he made everyone feel special. It made her feel just like any other girl he’d been with. When he was far from anything she’d ever experienced and honestly she’d probably compare every other boy to him after this.

That’s what scared her. 

And then of course she thought that if she wasn’t so inexperienced maybe she’d be calmer about the whole casual thing. But Y/n didn’t do casual. She was all or nothing. But if Harry wanted casual she’d do it. She’d do more for him than she cared to admit.

The kiss grew fierier and that felt more like the first time they were together — it was all tongues and teeth. He began to roll on top of her, pressing his hard cock against her and her yearning for him grew even stronger. She honestly thought herself pathetic for how wet he made her, they’d done practically nothing and already her heart was beating fast, her chest heaving against his.

His hands slid up under her shirt massaging her tits gently, as he began to kiss her neck. The hickey he’d left last had faded now which gave him the motivation to do another and who was she to tell him no? Her hands were in his hair massaging him as she sighed contently. Letting out moans every few seconds from the pleasure his touch brought.

How did he already know her body so well? It was like he could read her mind. And yet every move he made seemed so effortless. 

“Take it off.” Y/n sighed gesturing to her shirt. Harry didn’t need to be told twice, he ripped it off and throwing somewhere neither cared to look as his mouth roamed along the peaks of her tits, nipples suddenly hard. Her back arched up to his hot, wet mouth.

His tongue swiped along them and Y/n whined needily, her hands now on his shoulders as her hips bucked up. He sucked just below one of them, leaving a mark Y/n knew she’d touch whenever she thought of him after this. His hands were on her waist fiddling with the waistband of her very small shorts. He kissed down her stomach and on her hip tattoo. 

“When’d ya’ get this lil’ number?” He asked, moving the shorts to reveal a small yet noticeable tattoo. It was a little moth kind of similar to the one on Harry but smaller. 

“I got it with Daisy on a whim one night. I actually used you as inspiration. I didn’t know what else to get. I’ve always loved your tattoos.”

His heart swelled and he kissed it. “It’s sexy.” She smiled, face all pink, eyes soft. 

“Can I touch you, Harry?”

He shook his head and she frowned confused. “Why not?”

“Because I want this to be about you.” He replied. 

She pouted at him reaching for his hand. 

“Don’t give me that, be good f’me and let me make y’feel good Petal.” He said tapping it away.

“Okay, I’ll be good.”

He said. “Atta girl.” 

She felt her stomach twist in want. “You can take those off too.”

So he did. He had an inkling she hadn’t any undies under there and his theory was proven correct. 

“Sorry I didn’t shave, I didn’t know this would happen.” He looked up at her, his fingertips gliding up her inner thigh. 

“Don’t be silly, Y/n.”

Harry constantly raised her standards every second. 

“Don’t boys get repulsed by hair?” She asked. 

He laughed staring right at her dripping hole, his eyes looked hungry, lips slightly parted. “Yeah exactly, boys. Not real men. I firmly believe men who care don’t actually like pussy. I love pussy, what’s a little hair anyway?”

“I guess m’ just nervous, H.” She replied, looking away. 

He stopped, hands freezing. “D’ya want me to stop?”

Her hands moved from her stomach to his cheeks, stubble grazing her hands. “No,” She said faster than she had wanted to, which actually made him smirk. “I just- What if I do it wrong?”

“How can you do anything wrong? You just have to let me take care of you. Relax, Love. It’s just me.”

“Just Harry,” She confirmed and he kissed her thigh. She felt the stubble graze her and felt her pussy throb deeply. She was yearning for him. 

“Tell me if y’want me to stop, okay?” 

She nodded. “I will.”

He lifted her legs up placing them on his muscular shoulders, pulling her close by her hips. Every single touch and movement of his was teasing and getting her so worked up she was about ready to beg him for it. His breath was making her squirm against his face when he finally decided to kiss her puffy clit which was swollen in arousal. She was taken back to New Year’s when she kissed the tip of his throbbing dick. All pink and slick.

She let out a heavy breath shutting her eyes. One of his hands found hers and she held it, stroking her thumb over his knuckles in encouragement because she was worried her voice would be too shaky. Without further hesitation, his warm tongue lapped up all the wetness dripping down her pretty pussy. 

She whimpered. Was it supposed to feel this good?

He started to suck on her clit, lapping it up over and over. The noise of what he was doing to her was pure filth. Her hand was in his hair tugging at it as she cried out. She tried to stop her hips from squirming but it felt so good. 

“Fuck, Harry.” She said letting out a shakey breath when his tongue started licking her wet hole. 

She gave his hair a particular rough tug and he grunted against her. The vibrations made her whine.

She felt his free hand move against her pussy fingertips tracing up his spit and her slick. Before he began to tease her some more. The tip of his middle finger slid in ever so slightly, her hips leaning into the touch before he pulled away again. He was still harshly sucking her clit, and Y/n couldn’t help but whimper. 

“Harry, please.”

He looked up at her from his position. His eyes met hers as he greedily lapped her up. His finger went in slightly further reaching halfway before he pulled away again. She threw her head back in defeat. He wanted her to beg. 

“Please, H. I want you so bad.” She said, shutting her eyes. 

She felt him pull back for a brief second. “These kinds of things can’t be rushed, Babe.”

She sighed, he was taking his time with her, enjoying every sound that came from her swollen lips. The noise of her slick, dripping pussy against his mouth. The sweet tangy taste of her. Those hands of hers that ran through his hair and tugged when he did something particularly good. He was going to make sure she was satisfied.

He went straight back to it. This time his finger went all the way, knuckle deep, as he grazed that spot that made her scream. He heard her whisper, “Fucking hell.”

He pulled his finger out again. His tongue and lips still working hard against her puffy sensitive clit. She couldn’t contain her moans. They turned on Harry so much that every few seconds he found himself humping against the bed for some relief. 

Her hips bucked up, her thighs squeezing his head unintentionally. He made her so riled up she could barely control her body. Her legs were already shaking from the pleasure. 

When his finger slipped in the next time it stayed. She sighed contently as he began to thrust against her walls that tightened around him every few seconds. His rhythm wasn’t fast or sloppy it was slow but hard. A steady rhythm. They curled inside her and each time he hit that spongey spot and sucked her clit just right her eyes rolled back in her head. 

“Harry,” She begin to chant like a mantra over and over which only egged him on more and more.

She could feel her stomach begin to tighten, and her hands came up to play with her tits. Kneading them and pinching her nipples. The wave of her orgasm snuck up on her, her back arching and her hands finding Harry’s free hand on her thigh to squeeze in a warning.

“Fuck! I’m cumming!” She cried out. 

Harry felt her clench like a vice on his fingers as she got wetter and wetter. He felt it drip down his wrist as she whimpered. Her thighs clenched against his wrist as she writhed uncontrollably beneath him. His tongue and finger didn’t stop though. He looked up through hooded eyes at her gorgeous face. 

Her hair was fanned out above her head, tossed back, mouth agape in an o shape, and her cheeks were all flushed and pink. Her eyes rolled back as she screamed out. “Ah! Fuck!”

When she started to come down from the peak of her orgasm Harry continued helping her ride it out. She thought he would stop, she was so whimpery and sensitive.

“Got another one in ya’?” He asked, looking up. 

“Maybe.”

That was enough for him to keep going. He slipped another finger inside her, he started speeding up now. 

“Look at you, so good f’me.” He said, his voice all gravelly.

She whimpered pathetically, squirming. Already feeling a building in her stomach.

“All spread out, ruined, taking me like a good girl. Such a good girl.” Y/n clenched against his fingers at that comment.

“Jesus, Harry. You’ll be, ah, the death of me.” She replied. 

He just laughed at her. Starting to speed up his thrusts.

Y/n let her eyes flutter shut as she felt her second orgasm start to wash over her and she sighed. This time it felt even more intense than the first, her toes curled and her hands gripped the sheets. She felt a wild deep sensation inside her. “Oh, god. ‘M cumming.”

It washed through her entire body, pure pleasure overcoming her. When she opened her eyes she saw these black spots, her hearing stopped for a second and she let out a loud mewling carnal whimper. Harry was mesmerised by the sight in front of him. If he could he would do this all day.

When her body went limp he slowly pulled his fingers out and she suddenly felt so empty. 

“You okay?” He asked softly.

She opened her eyes, naked chest heaving. “Your…tongue…fuck.”

He giggled. 

“Kiss me, please.”

He placed a peck on her lips, brushing some hair from her face. 

“Thank you.” She whispered, fingers brushing his jaw. 

“No, thank you, Y/n. Been dyin’ to do that for weeks.”

thanks for reading! follow to see a part three! xx if you enjoyed this feel free to check out my masterlist here! xx feel free to request me too!

[thehollowwriter]

Summary: Set in an alternate universe where Silas accepted his NRC letter, another student recounts his time observing this strange first year (repost bc I didn't like the original but I'm still not too happy with it so idk anymore lol)

Warnings: Violence, blood, ableism, self-harm (mentioned), probably full of mistakes. Word count: 2408

(Pls reblog and leave a comment ❤️)

Silas

During my three years at NRC, never has a student caught my interest the way Silas did.

The kid didn't have any last name. He was called up to the mirror dead last, after most students had lost interest in the repetitive ceremony and began talking amongst themselves.

You didn't get a good look at him from your seat, but even you could tell he was small. Tiny, even.

He was dwarfed in size by even average height first years, and he was incredibly skinny. He stood with his hands at his sides, long black claws catching the light of the candles.

He was placed in Diasomnia, the same dorm as I. He didn't have any reaction to

his placement that I could see.

I kept my eye on him as we all filed out the mirror chamber and made our way to our respective dorms. He kept away from the others, glancing at his surroundings and flexing his fingers.

I got a better look at him then. He was pale as death, the only darker shades being the scars and dark purple scales covering his face. His hood was pulled down, revealing the tangled rats nest that was his hair. He was a merfolk, large purple earfins rugged, damaged, and torn. His cheeks, well, they were skeletal. Hollowed out, giving his cheekbones more definition than what was comfortable. He wore large black sunglasses, and that fascinated me because it meant we finally had a deep sea merfolk student.

Our dorm leader gave his little welcome speech, and it was hard to tell if Silas was even listening.

Silas was fascinating to me. Silent as a grave and very anti-social, even for a member of Diasomnia, he was a mystery waiting to be solved.

He had an intense, threatening aura that made other students steer clear.

I thought I just felt a passing curiosity at first. But I soon found myself listening in whenever Silas' name was mentioned, taking note of any detail, or silently observing him... I didn't follow him! I wasn't stalking, of course not, but sometimes I just had to know where he was doing or what he was doing. It was simple curiosity.

Silas turned out to be a troublemaker. He rarely obeyed his professors and never came to the many detentions he was given. He ignored curfew and wandered around at night, even leaving the premises entirely. Nobody knew where he went, but he was always oddly... wet when he got back.

He never wore the uniform properly, either. When he first put on our dorm uniform, it truly showed how small he was. It hung off him, loose and baggy despite being such a small size, showing off his all too frail and bony body.

He spent his nights working, too. I once found him in Diasomnia's lounge at about 3am, doing homework.

He was holding his pen so tightly I feared it would snap, writing at a painstakingly slow pace. Every letter was drawn one careful line at a time, and for once, his expression changed, brows furrowing in a mix of frustration and intense concentration.

I watched him work for a long time. He worked in utter darkness without any lamps or even candles, and he didn't stop until his he was finished, though his earfins would flick every now and then, and I feared he'd noticed me, but... he didn't turn around. So I relaxed.

Silas was hot gossip often. Every week or so, there was some new shocking thing he had done that had everyone's tongues flapping as they whispered amongst themselves and tried to understand the utter mystery that was this odd student.

It was funny how quickly every incident escalated.

At first, it was when he was cleared to take off the sunglasses. His light amethyst eyes were soul-piercing, but also so... dead. It was almost disturbing to look at, even for me. Although his gaze was intense and frightening, his eyes were dull and lifeless, accentuated by his heavy eyebags.

He would silently stare at his professors throughout his entire lesson, every lesson. He rarely wrote things down. It was creepy, and even our esteemed teachers were uncomfortable with him and dreaded having class with him.

Then, it was his obedience. Silas never responded to his professors when they spoke, apart from maybe some vague gestures. I've seen him interact with them before. He looked wary whenever they spoke directly to him, his hands twitching at his sides whenever they moved suddenly or raised their voice at him. After some time, they'd give up and give him detention if he had gotten in trouble, even if it was in vain since he never came to detention at all.

After that, it was his cane, an unexpected development. I supposed it was because he was a merfolk, but it seemed to be for another medical reason. Of course, that isn't the shocking part. The shocking part is how quick he was to raise it against another student when they tried to kick it out from under him. Deserved, if you ask me.

Then, there was the incident that seemed to send shock waves through the entire school, after the first vears began doing duels.

"He stabbed himself," said one of Silas' classmates, looking pale and disturbed. "H-He slashed his palm open and used to the blood to... to cast some fucked up spell. He tried to kill his opponent a-and didn't stop casting until the professors stopped him by force."

"What the hell kind of magic was that?" Said another. "The professor didn't even know what it was!"

"He stained his fingertips with blood and used it to draw something in the air and..."

"His opponent nearly died from whatever the hell that was... how do you even describe something like that?"

Silas wielded some unknown, foreign form of magic that he would not explain no matter how much he was prodded and pushed. He would simply stare back at whoever was talking to him, his fingers flexing and claws tapping against his sides.

"It's abyssal magic," was the quiet whisper against the uproar of theories, from a prince of the Sunset Savanna. "You need blood or animal remains to use it. It sounds just like abyssal magic."

How fascinating.

I tried researching it. Nothing came up. Whenever I asked professors or fellow students, they would look at me in confusion or ask if I meant cosmic magic. Even now, I know almost nothing about it.

This just made me infinitely more curious about Silas and my... well, not stalking, my observations extended to mealtimes.

Silas was very rarely seen in the cafeteria. Apart from the few times he went there, nobody has seen him eat anything at all.

When he did go to the cafeteria, it was always the same procedure. Show up, get whatever seafood was there, then sit in the furthest corner of the cafeteria, where the crowd was sparse and the lighting was dim.

He'd pick at his food, eating tiny pieces one at a time and acting like he was afraid it would suddenly disappear.

I always made sure to be discreet in my observations, even if I felt confident that I would go unnoticed.

I wasn't careful enough, though. One night, when I once again found myself watching Silas do homework, he stopped his mind-numbingly slow writing and turned to stare right at me.

The full weight of his gaze was terrifying.

"Do you think I'm stupid?" He rasped, and my stomach churned, and my skin crawled. Those dull dead eyes bore into me with no visible emotion, and his voice was deep and strained, but so very soft.

I remember being shocked as well. That was the first time I had ever heard or seen Silas speak. My mind was a mess, scrambling to wrap itself around the idea of Silas not being deaf or mute like I had thought.

"You can talk?!"I squeaked out before I could stop myself.

"Yeah."Said Silas. "And I can see, too. Ya think I don't notice ya standing in the corner n' starin' at me all the time?"

He spoke slowly, putting careful effort into pronouncing each word.

"Stop."

I stared at him, slack-jawed.

"Leave me alone," Silas continued, his voice just as soft as it was before. He didn't say anything further, but he did start flexing his fingers like he always did when talking to people, and I suddenly realised that I was very alone with Silas in the middle of night, and no-one knew I had left my room.

A sudden sense of dread that filled me, and every alarm bell went off in my brain at once. I left, walking so that my back was never to him, slowly edging towards the door to the hallway. Those awful eyes, shrouded in shadows, followed me the entire way. I still felt watched even as I closed the door.

I cannot fully explain the fear I felt that night. It was almost primal, like my brain was telling me I was prey being stalked by a predator. I never felt afraid of him before, not even with the stories.

Was it because it was so late and dark? Was it because of those claws, long and sharp and startlingly similar to Cleacoves'? Was it those eyes, those eyes that looked so haunted?

I don't know. I just don't know.

I ceased my observations after that. "Curiosity killed the cat" is a phrase I never cared for, but it felt very much applicable here considering Silas' unpredictable nature.

It was odd, though. This sense that something would happen to me if I ignored him. Apart from one or two incidents that were really not that serious, he's never attacked anyone out of nowhere before. At least, aside from the whole duel situation.

Anyways, my days of playing detective were done, and I only spared Silas a passing glance from then on.

Everything seemed to calm down. Stories about Silas got lesser as his odd behaviour became boring and repetitive, and the gossip was replaced with something new. Everything was normal again.

Then, something happened.

It happened in the cafeteria. A group of older students had decided to make it their business to harass Silas, taking glee in messing with this small, quiet first year.

Students trying to bully and pick on Silas wasn't anything new, and I knew better than trying to observe, but... I couldn't help it. The moment I heard their loud, obnoxious voices, my attention was fully on them.

"Hey, speak up, pipsqueak!" The laughs and jeers of the crowd of third years gathered around where Silas was sitting could be heard even from where I sat, raising above the din of the cafeteria.

Silas ignored them.

"Come on, you're meant to look your seniors in the eye when they talk to you!" Said one.

Silas didn't respond. He simply stared at his lap, visibly tense, with his hands pressed flat against the table top.

"C'mon, answer! You aren't deaf, are you?" Said another, who then turned to the rest and asked, "Is he a mute or something?"

"No, he talks." Someone answered. "Barely. Not much worth listening to, though. He ain't all that clever. Sounds like he's never been to school in his life."

"That so?" The group's de facto leader, whose name I think was Cade Stobek, leaned down and jabbed Silas in the shoulder. "Come on, then, talk. You won't last long here if you don't learn to respect your seniors."

I wondered if I should intervene... and maybe check Silas' pulse. His deceivingly pale face and lifeless eyes made him look like he'd died right there.

"Maybe he's one of those prudes who don't talk till they're done eating." Someone else said. "Eric's family is like that. Silence at the table until everyone's finished."

"Eh? Is that it, then?" Stobek asked Silas. "Your fish is more important than your seniors?"

He made a grab at the plate of sushi in front of Silas and held it above his head, and suddenly, the sound of glass breaking pierced through the noise of the cafeteria, closely followed by a muffled scream.

Absolutely silence befell the room as students turned from where they were standing or sitting or walking to find Silas gripping Stobek by the hair and holding him in place.

Choked gasps and muffled gurgles filled the silence as blood slowly dribbled from the now broken bottom end of the table's small flower vase being being forced into his throat and onto his pristine uniform, staining it red.

Silas took the plate out of Stobek's trembling hands and released him, letting him fall unceremoniously to the floor.

Stobek's buddies exploded into a series of screams and shouts of alarm, gathering around him and waving their pens.

There was a brief pause, a moment of stillness, and then the rest of the student body followed, a wailing upoar of shock and confusion bouncing off the walls and reaching a crescendo of panicked chaos.

Silas drew his lips back and stared at them all in a silent hiss, earfins pinned back and monstrously sharp teeth glinting in the light. Then, he popped a piece of sushi into his mouth and walked away.

I never saw Silas after that. I don't know what happened, but I'm pretty sure he was expelled or at least suspended as the school desperately tried to scrub the stain a student's murder left on their image.

School was suspended for a few days as the mess with dealt with, but eventually, life carried on. At least, for the rest of us, it did. I'm sure it was a horrible time for Mr Stobek's family and friends. Eventually, I graduated, and my NRC days and the ever lingering memories of Silas' presence were left behind.

I still think about him, though. It's been years, and still, I cannot forget those eyes. That night. I think....I think if I haven't left, I probably would have ended up like Stobek. In a casket, my family demanding justice from someone who... doesn't exist. Silas has no ID, nor does the Coral Sea have any records of his birth.

I can't help but wonder if I went to school with a ghost, or maybe it was all a bad dream that I'm confusing with real life.

Hah... I really hope it's the latter

...........................................

A/N: I hope you guys like this ons better though I didn't change much

Tagging: @distant-velleity @br3adtoasty @rainesol @theleechyskrunkly @jovieinramshackle

@galaxies-and-gore @cyanide-latte @cynthinesia @officialdaydreamer00 @krenenbaker

@offorestsongs @kitwasnothere @elenauaurs @boopshoops @inotonline

@1dont-really-know @kazumify @minteasketches @elysia-nsimp @skrimpyskimpy

@casp1an-sea @offorestsongs @tixdixl @poisoned-pearls @the-trinket-witch

@ramshacklerumble @ghostiidasponk @thegoldencontracts @the-banana-0verlord @cloudcountry

@skriblee-ksk @twstinginthewind @lumdays @theolivetree123 @natsukishinomiyaswife

@authoruio @jewelulu @raguiras @honeynclove @moonyasnow

@skibidibabygirl @paperclvps

[aiizaph]

I’ve woken up after a decent night’s sleep and, y’know, I kinda regret deleting the posts I made last night. I really deleted them because I let one guy (who I blocked anyway) who blatantly ignored my words and claimed that I hate aroaces get into my head and scared me to think that others would misinterpret, or even witch-hunt me over that incorrect message too. If anything, they just proved my point about how we aroallos are never listened to or are taken seriously.

What is aroace-phobia about asking people to not post asexual things as aromantic and not tag aromantic posts as asexual? I’m still shaking rn, and I have no idea why my anxiety is flaring up so bad about this. I haven’t had an anxious reaction this severe in at least over a year.

Ugh, I do admit, the original post’s wording was kinda vague and confusing and did make it seem like I hate aroace people if you weren’t paying attention or aren’t aware of the rampant aroallo-erasure on this site (or even just in general).

I don’t hate aroace people. I never have and I never will hate someone simply for being aroace. I identified as aroace for so many years. To the point that my siblings still accidentally think I’m still aroace. Hell, one of my siblings IS aromantic/asexual (I dont think he uses the aroace label specifically, but he is aromantic and asexual).

What I hate is the erasure of aroallos and other non-ace aros who are just trying to live their goddamn lives. It hurts even more that some of the vehement level of hate we get is coming from people who are also aromantic. I just wish we could all bond over our aromanticism and just get along. I don’t understand why fellow aromantics hate us so much.

I’m turning off reblogs on this post bc I can’t turn off replies, and I’d rather not get a bunch of nasty messages again. Though, I’m probably gonna take a break from Tumblr for quite a while just to recover.

[ben-learns-smth]

re-introduction time, hi I'm Bente (they/he), Ben is also fine! formerly known as bennistudies

quick facts:

mid-20something wrapping up their master's teaching degree (english & german)

starting a new job as a substitute teacher in may (exciting but scary!) (that didn't happen, but other good things did!)

this is a somewhat-studyblr, definitely some langblr content and otherwise the usual meme, jokes, life update, bookish stuff

languages I'm currently learning: DGS (german sign language) & Norwegian

it's been a bit over five years since I joined the studyblr community with my old blog and I've learned so much from others since then but also I just really enjoy seeing everyone doing their thing and making it work, ya'll are so impressive!!

hyperspecific poll with fun facts to get to know each other is here

a more rambly hello under the cut:)

after I basically stopped posting on my old studyblr bennistudies last late summer, I realised that having to switch back and forth between accounts was the issue. I missed being active here! so to solve that, I've created this sideblog for easier access. hi, it's good to see you again :)

for those interested, I'll definitely leave little updates on how the job is going (as much as I'm allowed), especially when it comes to being a nonbinary trans teacher since a bunch of ppl found that interesting when I mentioned it on my old blog. posts related to that will be both under #mine and #bente does gender

originally, I expected to be done with my thesis already, which is why I have lots of language classes going on/starting rn. I have 4 lessons of german sign language level 2 left, level 3 starts this week as a parallel class though (posts will be under #bente learns sign language). last week I started norwegian a1 (#bente learns norwegian)!

other than that new focus on teaching and language learning, it'll be the usual chaos, rambles, and water drinking reminders though. I'm not even gonna pretend that I'm doing this for accountability, I just like sharing my cosy little corner of the world and seeing what you lot are up to

I still track #benniscup, please use it freely for any type of post! yes that includes rambles (if you want me to see and potentially reblog)

if you want to talk books, baking, plants or just about your day, please reach out!

tagging a bunch of my old mutuals and blogs I've followed for what feels like forever bc I appreciate you all and hope you know that: @septemberstudies @learnelle @studyingwithcatsandtea @veralernt @teacherstudiies @lattesandlearning @somerabbitholes @yourneighborhoodbibliophile @adelinestudiess @godzilla-studies @oneanxiousstudybuddy @gabiestudies @patchworkstudies (& the knife gang pals, obviously <3)

[apprenticestanheight]

THE FIVE DAYS OF SMUTMAS QUEUE: DAY TWO

Work Shirts - Lawrence Gordon x gn! reader

All right!! This is day two of my silly little christmas celebration, and of course I had to do what I've been procrastinating since basically the start of this account--write a Lawrence reader insert piece!

I love him wholeheartedly despite my lack of fics for him so this has definitely been a long time coming, and this one, much like yesterdays fic, stems from a thought I had—though with this thought, @mrkheartffmans and I went a lil feral together through the reblogs of the original post and thus, the fic concept came to light!

This is also a few years post trap because I was like "yeah working somewhere for a decade is cool but what about a decade and a half??" also—my mentality was that having it set a few years post-trap would be easier to write?? I don't know how true that actually is but it was my thought process lol.

This fic is for audiences of 18+, so minors, do not interact!

Fic type- this is mostly--almost entirely--smut. There's also angst if you squint because yeah, angst was bound to be present somewhere lol

Warnings- unprotected sex (reader is on BC), and as per usual, the reader is GN for all intents and purposes (petnames included), but I went with AFAB anatomy as that's the anatomy that I know best.

Lawrence wishes he could act like the surprise on the faces of his coworkers when he mentioned having the last two weeks of December off came as a surprise to him, but he can't and he kind of hates that.

Of course people are bound to be a little surprised by it. In the decade and a half that he's worked at Angels of Mercy, the only incident where he took any sizeable amount of time off was while he was recovering from the bathroom trap and could hardly stand, let alone walk like he used to.

But, in the three years since the bathroom trap and aside from that month long period where he allowed himself to recover before going back to work, he'd not taken a single day away. Being at work, seeing to patients and talking to people—even just going to work and filling out miscellaneous paperwork while he sat in the isolation of his office—kept his mind busy and his hands busier.

He came home from work every night and saw you, which just made his entire day as it were. You'd order food or make something quick and just spend your time lounging on the couch, occasionally get a little flirty, and laugh when Lawrences hands started wandering how they used to in the days of your masters degree and his days of medical school.

But, because of a backlog of PTO and the fact that he'd been overworking himself almost to the bone with the onslaught of people needing medical care during the last three months of the year, Lawrence decided to book the 14th through to the 2nd of January off so that he could get some rest and worry about housework so that you didn't have to worry at all, where you normally split the housework fifty-fifty.

Lawrence knew that your marketing job got really, really stressful during the last month of the year. People always unearthed different versions of themselves come the holidays, and all he wanted was for you to come home from your workday and not have to worry about menial things like a messy bathroom counter, week-old leftovers in need of throwing away or dishes not yet moved from the dishwasher to the cupboards.

He gets called into work for an emergency on the 21st, and after running to grab groceries during the afternoon on the 22nd, he's delighted to find what he does waiting for him in the bed you share.

You're typically home from work at around seven, sometimes eight thirty on particularly busy days, and when Lawrence arrives home, it's half past eight.

He goes into your bedroom, having indeed hoped to see you there or at least get a call about work running late with the promise of more details upon your arrival at home as he enters your shared bedroom, but what he sees is so much better than anything he could've hoped for.

You're sitting on the bed, back pressed against the head board, focused on whatever romance book you'd plucked from a charity bookstore on your way home, but it's not what you're reading that Lawrence really takes note of.

No, it's not the book at all, though he does note that the title makes it seem like something from either the regency or the victorian era. It's what you're wearing.

You're wearing the shirt he wore to work the previous day, buttons undone with the cufflinks you'd gifted him for christmas the year his residency ended still holding the sleeves of the shirt together, the duvet covering your legs and hips, which makes Lawrence assume you've stolen a pair of his sweatpants in addition to the shirt.

He knocks, lightly, on the side of the door, and you startle, looking up to the source of the knock and relaxing the minute you see his face.

"You startled me," you say, grinning and closing your book over your thumb so as not to lose your place. "I remember you told me you'd be getting groceries around when I would get home, so I stole one of your shirts and settled in. Figured we could order Thai food or something to that effect, have a late dinner and relax."

Lawrence runs his tongue over his lips, notices the keen way with which you watch him do it.

"Yeah," he grins, further enters the room. "That sounds lovely. I grabbed the last of the necessary ingredients for dinner Christmas Day so that you wouldn't have to worry—I know that work has been something of a mess for you lately and I want to make sure you have the opportunity to relax when you come home."

He approaches the bed, watches you place the book you'd been reading open on your nightstand beneath the lamp.

"I don't deserve you," you laugh.

You've been dating since you were starting up with your masters a year after getting your bachelors degree when you were twenty-three and Lawrence was two years into medical school at twenty-four.

You've been married since you were twenty-five and twenty-six, and seventeen years down the line, you both knew that marrying each other was the best possible thing either of you could've done with regard to the romantic part of your lives, and while you were married you ended up doing the best possible things for your respective careers so it worked in both of your favors regardless.

You were Lawrences rock, especially so in the aftermath of the bathroom trap, and he was yours and would be such forevermore.

"You're right," he says, moving away from the bed to grab a pair of sweatpants. "You deserve more, but I do strive to be what you deserve day in and day out."

"Don't say that," you chide. "You're perfect, Lawrence. I wouldn't've married you had I thought otherwise, I promise."

He can feel your gaze on him as he slips out of the khaki pants he wears, deciding to go commando and put a pair of light gray sweatpants on for comfort. He changes out of the black button up he'd chosen to wear, pulls a baggy dark blue Henley over his torso and climbs into bed beside you, pressing kiss after kiss down the line of your jaw and across your neck.

"How stressful has work been?" He asks, tone genuine but also slightly seductive.

"Oh, so stressful," you laugh, knowing exactly what he's doing and the fact that seeing you in one of his shirts and just one of his shirts has spurred that on by a mile. "I think if I have to hear one more coworker complaining about last minute shopping during the last few days before Christmas Eve or even on Christmas Eve in and of itself, I will start causing heads to roll. December is the worst time to be in the offices because everyone stops caring about year-end quotas and making sure things are good going into next year and starts caring about whatever gossip is being spread around. It's dreadful, Lawrence."

He pauses, looking at you with genuine sympathy in his gaze. "I'm sorry—I feel gross. I didn't mean to attempt to proposition you for sex like that. I really do want to hear about your day and I'm sorry it's been so terrible, my love. Are you going to book time off?"

You grin. Lawrence is ever-so considerate, always apologizing and stepping back if he's done something in a way that he doesn't appreciate midway through.

"You're going to be stuck with me from tomorrow through to the second," you say. "And—for the record, I didn't hate it. I like it when you proposition me for sex with kisses because your kisses are quite honestly one of the best parts of being married to you. Plus, I have had a stressful month and I won't lie and say that my current outfitting was just for comfort. Sure, bare ass on satin sheets is an amazing feeling, but I was hoping that I'd get the reaction I did, admittedly."

Lawrence tilts his head inquisitively. "You're not—you're—I thought you'd taken a pair of my sweatpants," he grins, moves a hand to your thigh. Sure enough, it's bare. "Oh, Christmas must've come early."

You laugh. "You fuckin' wish," you say, ignoring the goosebumps that Lawrences touch brings on.

You unbutton the few buttons done up on the shirt, press your back against the headboard.

"Stressful month, yeah baby?" Lawrence is almost beaming as his hand moves from your thigh to your stomach, lazily perusing up your chest.

You clench your jaw, squeeze your arms against your sides because you are not going to give in to your handsome husband and his illustrious whims just with a few touches and some whispered sentiments.

"So stressful, Lawrence," you nod. "So, so stressful."

"Do you need a way to destress?" His thumb and first finger locate your nipple, and you exhale a breathy moan, quiet and already wanting to give in to his whims. "If you do, I think I could be of assistance."

"Lawrence," you moan, quiet and needy. "Oh, fuck, Lawrence."

Lawrence moves his hand away from you for a second, only to take off his shirt and the sweatpants he wears before he's back to kissing your neck and letting his hands roam across your chest.

A few minutes of much the same passes by, Lawrences kisses lining your neck and jawline and face and your ethereal lips while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. His hand dips to your folds for just a few minutes, taking your slick onto his fingers and laughing against your shoulder.

"You're so wet for me already," he says. "Fuck, you're perfect."

"Wanna ride you," you're almost stunned at how evenly the words fall from your lips but not at all stunned when Lawrence agrees.

He pulls you onto his lap, lets you grind against his half-hard cock until it's fully hard and you're begging to feel him inside of you and moans when you bottom out, gaze watching you intently as his hands settle on your hips.

"Lawrence," you whisper. "Fuck."

A smile spreads onto Lawrences face before he can stop it, and when you start riding him, he presses his back against the headboard, one hand on your hip while the other lightly holds your chin so as to keep your gaze on his.

You get lost in how good it feels within the space of a minute, maybe two—Lawrence's cock is long and thick, and even if riding it takes some adjusting occasionally, it still becomes very enjoyable very quickly.

"You're so wonderful for me, Y/N," he says. "Oh, this never gets old."

He's loving how you feel around him, clenching occasionally and moaning after a particularly deep thrust that hits your g-spot, and you're just—it's just perfect.

And then, Lawrence gets an idea. He moves the hand that's cupping your face to your wrist, which is attached to the hand that you use to grope relentlessly at yourself, rolling your nipples between your thumb and first finger, sometimes moving to rub your clit.

"The cufflinks, baby," he says. "Don't touch yourself, mm? Use those for me."

He watches you press the cold silver cufflink against one of your nipples, moans as you clench around him at the sensation of the cold meeting your warm skin. You moan in turn, pressing the metal against your nipples and moaning his name.

He moves a hand back to your chin, placing his first and middle finger against your bottom lip. You take the hint immediately and bring his fingers into your mouth, grinding down onto him as you do.

"You're so good for me, pet," he says, moving the hand that rests on your hip to your clit. He starts rubbing it with practiced expertise, knowing the way you like it best after nearly two decades of marriage. "Oh, this is amazing. You can steal my work shirts whenever you want, okay? Especially the ones with the cufflinks. You're amazing."

You moan at the praise, pressing the cufflinks against yourself further, loving the way that the metal feels against your sensitive nipples.

He takes his fingers out of your mouth and goes back to holding your chin so as to keep your gaze on his, wanting to watch you orgasm.

You come completely undone when Lawrence speeds up his ministrations on your clit just enough to make you want more, and Lawrence watches.

You thrust your way through the aftershocks, at which point Lawrence releases into you and lets your chin free from his light grip, kissing you and offering praise as he does.

He pulls you off of him and gets a bath set up, helping you into it while giving you more praise and pressing kisses along the back of your neck and shoulder blades because the orgasm had left you both completely and totally breathless.

You bathe in light conversation, once again talking about your days but focusing on the more positive parts, and Lawrence lets you steal a Henley from the days of medical school. You pull a pair of boxers on and curl up in bed next to him, falling asleep only seconds before Lawrence does.

[lixxen]

hello beloved mutual lixxen. im curious of about danny phantom! ive seen your reblogs of it, and i was wondering if you could explain the premise of it? bc my memory of it was a kids show from nickelodeon, but it seems super popular. is it still running??

anyways it seems kind of fun, im thinking of starting it

Welcome back to Lixx explaining hyperfixations!!

Danny Phantom is a children's cartoon from 2004 that has three seasons and a graphic novel (that came out last year) (the show has been done for twenty years)

It focuses on Daniel Fenton, who is a 14 year old who lives in a small town somewhere in the northern Midwest of the US (near Wisconsin but not in it). His parents are scientists/inventors who are obsessed with ghosts. They create a portal that should bring them to the Ghost Zone, a special realm that ghosts come from, but it doesn't work. Danny does inside of it and turns it on, which turns him into a Halfa. A Halfa is a half ghost, half human. He canonically dies twice in the show. I will not elaborate on how this kid just dies a few times.

The show follows Danny and his friends (and various classmates and reoccurring cast) as he learns how to use his powers and fight off ghosts along the way!

The cast includes:

His older sister Jazz, who is actually a really good big sister who cares a lot even if she's overbearing

Sam, his main love interest who is a Jewish goth girl and doesn't eat meat

His best friend Tucker, who is a techno nerd who loves meat

The A-Listers, who are the popular kids

Valerie, who is a love interest and enemy at certain points

His parents Maddie and Jack, who are overbearing and can be kinda crazy at times

Vlad, his not uncle who is fucking insane and a main bad guy. In love with Maddie

Plus various others!!

The fandom is very active and old. There are regular Tumblr/AO3 events that happen every year with a schedule and there is a steady fanon that has been built around the show that is basically canon (or supported by the canon). The creator, Butch Hartman, is a bigoted asshole who everyone hates.

The show is very fun and it is bingeable. It has a specific formula and is predictable at times. But also, it's very grim because you slowly realize that this 14 year old kid is literally carrying the weight of a realm on his shoulders and is living a double life where his parents basically want him dead and gone while loving his alive self

The fandom loves gore/whump.

I'm not kidding.

I have written a handful of gore fics for this show and tbh they're not even the worst things ever. If you've ever want to see some of the most jaw dropping whump and gore, this fandom has it.

We have fics that are literally the best written alternate universes and have nothing to do with the original show besides characters and death. Like. There's bound books of that specific fic. I haven't read it but it's long and it will make you sob

Some things that are lore building/fanon shit that everyone knows:

Ghost obsessions (you'll know it when you see it)

Ghost cores having specific effects on ghosts (it's canon but not really talked about in canon for more than two seconds)

Danny having allergic reactions to blood blossoms outside of his ghost form

Ghost speak being a ghost language all ghosts speak

Wes Weston and Kyle Weston being unnamed background characters that the fans took and made into full characters. It's actually cool as fuck. They're fully functioning characters and I love them

Death echoes/death days

I will warn that whatever feelings you have regarding to ships needs to be kicked to the side. All things go for ships here. Don't like the ship/don't condone it, don't interact with ir. You will waste your breath trying to play police over ship

Ships also have names. Platonic AND romantic ships. Here's some I can name off the top of my head:

Pitch pearl: Danny/Phantom (Danny gets split into a ghost and human form at one point)

Amethyst ocean: Danny/Sam

Savant Par: Danny/Tucker

Everlasting trio: Danny/Tucker/Sam

Badger cereal: Danny & Vlad (I think????)

Swagger Bishie/Golden Twinkie: dash/Danny

Pink astronaut: Danny/Paulina

Gray Ghost: Danny/Valerie

So yeah lol

This is my most read fic I think. I am gonna start writing again for DP soon. I love reading them

(here's my AO3 fic tags from my bookmarks for DP)

[nicollekidman]

Hi Abby, I am uncomfortable saying this off anon for a variety of reasons, please do not think one of them is cowardice. I have followed you for years and years. I’ve come to love so much media because of you and always appreciate your takes. I have chosen to unfollow you now. I am a Jewish person who has been so scared and upset about what the state of Israel is doing to Palestinians and am disgusted by the war crimes committed by Israel. At the same time, I have numerous Israeli friends and family members who have been murdered by Hamas in the last few weeks. Civilians visiting for educational and cultural exchange programs, horrifically killed. Your recently reblogged informational post about how Hamas is not a terrorist organization was deeply upsetting. This may not matter at all to you, but I ask that you consider empathy to all people involved in this issue. Decolonization is important. My friends and family are dead. These two facts can coexist. Just wanted to share this with you because I know many people see your blog and are affected by the information you share.

probably shouldn’t answer this at 1am and you’ve already unfollowed so you probably won’t even see this but i just want to ask you why my sharing resources and information about the reality of hamas and it’s current functioning within gaza / its original charter immediately made you think that i don’t care about loss of human life. there was not a single phrase in that post that minimized victims of the october attack, in fact, not a single phrase in that post took a stance on anything, it was purely informational. frankly, i think it was so measured to dissuade from reactions exactly like this, and if i had written it myself, i would’ve done a worse job.

and if you had been able to push past your knee jerk reaction to reading “they are not a terrorist organization” you would recognize that clarifying language and correcting misconceptions is one of the most important things we can do, both going forward in ending this genocide and looking back on how and why lives have been lost in both israel and palestine.

i have personal empathy and grief for your situation, and i’m so sorry you have suffered loss amongst your community and loved ones. but your loss does not form a shield behind which you are allowed to hide from truth, or force other people to close their mouths when trying to educate themselves and others. we are currently witnessing ongoing mass death, us-backed genocide, and a hugely successful (in the west) propaganda campaign to make this endeavor as Unknowable as possible, especially to those who have never looked into the reality of life in the region. grounding ourselves in recent history, learning more about words and labels that are thrown around weekly, daily, hourly, SPECIFICALLY to justify and excuse the ongoing campaign of death israel has visited upon the palestinian people for decades…. that is the LEAST we are all responsible for. it is your duty, as someone who has lost friends and loved ones, and it is mine, as someone with eyes on their stupid blog, to make every concerted effort to understand and spread the truth, in context, to enrich our own activism and honor the dead.

saying “decolonization is important” while unfollowing me after years bc i shared information about what hamas is, is so empty and meaningless you might as well have not said it at all. thousands of people are actively and endlessly being murdered behind a smokescreen of Terrorism with the VERY SPECIFIC connotations that holds over the west and the US in particular… attempting to relay information that complicates and clarifies your exact knee jerk reaction is the entire point. i hope one day you are able to look a little closer and recognize that your personal hurt in seeing new information that makes you uncomfortable is not important in the scheme of what we are currently trying to prevent

[knighteclipsed]

happy anniversary!!

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is. Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing! Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Template originally by Neffi!

Name: Kano!! (i often stylize it as 'kano!!' bc lowercase and exclamations cool)

Pronouns: they/it/he (but really, so long as it isn't 'she/her' and it isn't unclear who is being referred to, i don't really care what i'm called 😂)

Birthday (no year): May 6th!

Where are you from? What is your time zone? I've got Haitian heritage, but I was born and raised in Georgia of USA! Timezone is still TOAST✨

(more under the cut,)

How long is your roleplay experience? As long as my TOA experience pretty much :joy: (So, uh, basically just over 2 years HAHA) I did do some roleplay on like. Amino when I was 11. but i didn't really enjoy it or do it much willingly haha

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? My sister was super baller (she would do Minecraft roleplay on her computer) :sungals:✨

How were you introduced to TOA? Dewa's Dimitri art showed up in Tumblr's Dimitri hashtag!! I scrolled through the blog, saw it was a roleplay one, and my Instagram-pilled mind thought she had stolen someone else's art :crylaugh: (I, uh, quickly realized while trying to confirm that the art style was consistent and the subject matter was too niche [thinking of Dimitri dancing with someone at the Ethereal Ball], so whoever this 'mun' person was must've just been really good haha) Over the course of roughly 4 or so months, I learned how narrative rp worked, encountered some of the other blogs in TOA and even followed the masterlist itself! I ended up joining when I saw the previous Linhardt had just been booted for inactivity fdnsjkfnsd

Do you have any pets? Nope! I do have a plant though. I named her Vyse (yes, after the Valorant agent HER PETALS LOOK LIKE VYSE'S METAL FLOWERS) 💞

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) Spring! Winter is much too cold for my taste, and summer is good but certainly pushes my tolerance for heat haha. My birthday's in spring though, which tiebroke between it and autumn haha.

What is your IRL occupation? I'm a college student! (The job search is real.....)

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? Writing. Reading. Roleplay 😂 (Offering actual info: I love programming! I draw a lot. I like making/listening to music. Love and light <3)

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? Baldur's Gate 3 GWAHAHA. (i have a lot of unfinished saves on other games tho: Hades(? made it out several times tho), Triangle Strategy, and the first Ori fnjkdjskf)

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: i don't. pokemon. i did once use Mew (the discord bot) tho and i really liked my Wartortle :] i also have a giant holographic Espeon card and the eeveelutions are unsurprisingly my bias GWAHAHA Honestly tho my answers are probably the same as last year--dragon and dark. Squirtle, Wartortle, Gible fndsjkf

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! (Optional bonus challenge: if you filled this out last year, try not to repeat what you said back then!) I shared my programming endeavors last year! Also some math stuff so--I play a shit ton of D&D. I've got three regular campaigns going on; might be four if my workload isn't too much :weary: I DM one of those games and am a PC in the other two--the fourth would also be a game I DM, which is why I'm working with my schedule to solve this fdnsjkfn

How did you get into Fire Emblem? Played Smash Brawl on the Wii, was suggested by Kai (WHO WRITES KLIFF RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH) to play more characters than just Sheik, and while he was wrong to suggest Ike, he was right about Marth. Later I followed him to Fire Emblem Heroes, then Sacred Stones, and then Three Houses--that's when I properly became an FE fan haha.

What Fire Emblem games have you played? Finished (in order): Three Houses, Sacred Stones, Engage Started (in order): Shadows of Valentia, Awakening demo, Binding Blade in Japanese, Binding Blade in English, SOV again, Genealogy of the Holy War, Awakening (the full game), also Shadow Dragon in English--that's it i think :joy:

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: First was Sacred Stones! My first finished was Three Houses tho haha. Favorite is one of those two or Engage idk GWAHAHA

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! I think Valter successfully stole first place, then Dimitri, Amber, Diamant, and then Linhardt or Selena (FE8) fndsjkf

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! Dimitri! I picked his allegiance in FEH as a joke (I wanted someone to ask and myself to respond 'he's pretty :]' bc imo it'd be MAD FUNNY but then we got 3H for real and I ended up liking him a lot GWAHAH)

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 Dimitri. Diamant. no one else i don't think but maybe if I ever play Fates something might happen with Kaze 😂

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: N/A - Fates: haven't played but it would probably be Kaze - Three Houses: Dimitri; Yuri is the next on my list but if we aren't looking at my completionist ass he'd be competing with a Dimitri rerun 😂 - Engage: Diamant! And probably Diamant again haha

Favorite Fire Emblem class? idfk i told someone Mortal Savant recently. it might be Wyvern Knight tho they're scrunkly :softsmile:

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? Either a sword user or a mage! I would be playable, and I'd be strong in magic stats while pretty weak physically. (Imagine a swordmaster like that fgndjsfnsdf) No idea what class specifically but I'd probably be unpromoted on recruit!

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? (Black Eagles, Blue Lions, Golden Deer, Church of Seiros, Those Who Slither in the Dark, unaffiliated civilian, other - for example Almyran) Blue Lions. long live King Dimitri 🙏✨

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? Boons - probably Reason and Authority? Banes - Heavy Armor fndjkfn maybe Axes as well!! Budding Talent - Flying (the fear of heights go crazyyyy but i do love the thrill 🥺)

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? (Firene, the Kingdom of Abundance; Brodia, the Kingdom of Might; Elusia, the Kingdom of Knowledge; Solm, the Queendom of Freedom; Lythos, the holy land of the Divine Dragon; Gradlon, the desolate land of the Fell Dragon) I'd be a Brodian sniveling about the cold 24/7 (affectionate)

How do you pronounce TOA? 🤔(separate letters, to-ah, other?) Separate letters! It's intuitive to me.

Current TOA muses: Valter and Selena (FE8)!

Past TOA muses? Linhardt as of last moon, Colm as of a year ago in two days!

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Linhardt! And I could totally see him coming back, but he'd need a longgggg nap first fndjksnf

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) People with really strong emotions seems to be the trend? Even in the case of Linhardt and Selena (who are generally more muted in their expression), they have strong determinations; characters that are particularly tragic are also to my liking. (Also if their dialogue is scaaaaawy I'll probably end up liking them HAHA) Not really changed since last year haha.

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? Not really? Though I will say my ability to write Selena is kind of a miracle; I generally have a difficult time understanding femininity and womanhood, but maybe it's that Selena is trans that makes it a lot more intuitive to me dfnjksf Either way, she's a good bridge into woman writing I like her a lot :softsmile:

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? (If you filled this out last year, has this changed in any way?) Last time I just wrote I like dialogue! With the question slightly rephrased--I like confrontational scenes a lot actually fndjskfnds I realize a lot of folks find confrontation difficult/stressful to navigate, but I am mildly insane and slurp that shit up onb!! Say something absolutely horrendous! Slam someone into a wall (or the floor or some furniture) GWAHAHA!! (For the sake of transparency: Don't actually just walk into my inbox and start fighting my muses. I value the narrative a lot and would rather it come from somewhere and not be Too much fndsjkfnd I talk about this on Valter's mun page especially.) I like when characters don't get along! It's interesting! I love conflict! The big downside to this being my favorite is that you have to be really careful to navigate people's boundaries, but I'm willing to sort that out--just chat with me!! I only bite friends!!

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? Two answers for my present muses: for Valter, I want him to betray Maria (bc he's a fucking asshole and I want him to deal with the consequences of that fndsjkfns); for Selena, I'd really like a Glen here :oldplead: (this is not a scenario but genuinely if she found out Glen died actually she would be very sad!! get her with the emotions 🫵)

Favorite TOA-related memories? Nat and Dewa recognizing me as the Linhardt reserve just because I kept liking all of Dewa's stuff (including an arena thread with Nat's Linoan) 😭😭😭, Sirius rolling Valter as his liege in KKE, Colm getting dressed up by old ladies par Lloyd (Midsommar), Ree asking N if he was okay with writing body horror (Unscripted), Selena failing to kill "Vigarde" (AO), Valter and L'Arachel taking a million years to leave a burning classroom!!, Linhardt's Whole Friendship with Sophia, Linus slamming the Moonstone into a wall (and the floor), Valter getting chased by a giant Pikachu (Midsommar), Selena and Mlear :softsmile: (and by extension: Selena meeting Flear :crylaugh:), Valter beefing with EVERYONE (and also maybe stabbing Alfred? (he didn't)), Colm and Pelleas friendship 🥺, and the list goes on!

Present or past tense? Generally past tense? It changes mid-post a lot though; actions my muses are actively committing as present tense, but actions immediately past are generally. past. fndsjkfn It makes sense to me i prommy 🙏✨

Normal size text, small text, no preference? No preference! But I write in normal text unless asked to write otherwise; I don't take issue with the default size

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 Chat y'all already know.

[cttrajan1206]

hi!! im here to ask about your ocs!!

first of all i would like to say PLEASE read the shadows house manga if you werent planning on it already...! youll get so much more that wasnt offered in the anime since it cuts off at season 2 , its just so good.. SO GOOD ok. ok

about astral and anjem!

i know you said you dont have all the details worked out so its ok if you dont have an answer to any of this atm!

could you talk a bit more about their dynamic/relationship, if you have anything else you wanna say?

what are their goals in the house? are they pursuing roles within relief team, starbearers, etc? are they wanting to get invited?

how good is astral at controlling his soot power? do you think its likely any of his experimenting on anjem could go wrong + how would he react, would he be able to fix it?

love ur ocs :}

WAAA HELLO?? i never original post ever so i was really surprised and excited when you reblogged it saying you'd read it later - AND NOW IN MY INBOX TOO? WAAAA.... >O<

But waa ok ok so! Funny enough, @tsukiomoon was over at my house and convinced me to read Shadow House (having watched the anime) while we were at a bookstore. I'd already glanced at it a few times over the years so I was. Very easy to convince tbh djdhfjf So I actually began with reading the first two volumes!! Then after that, I was thoroughly hooked so we proceeded to binge the entirety of it together in two days. That said, I'd love to read the manga. I'm debating on it because the official translation -> scanlation currency exchange is not in my favour ToT but I think I like it enough to bear through it, the anime missed a few scenes from even just the first two volumes after all.

Onto the ocs!!

Dynamic/relationship: This is a fun one. I've mentioned they both very much love each other already, I think at first they're both very superficial about it and build up versions of each other in their head (Astral even moreso having known longer). It gets deeper as time goes on but Astral isn't obssessed with Anjem just as a person, but also for his quality of being human. Anjem is similar likewise but there's a mighty power imbalance there.

Astral is actually also a special shade! He remembers before morphing. He's probably the worst one to do so though because he doesn't really care about the Shadow House - not when it gives him license to not only have Anjem to himself, but also such close access to humans. To him, the memories just give him a clearer understanding if the Faces' limits. He gets very annoyed with seeing others treat their living dolls badly and will pick fights about it or ask Anjem to give them recompensary gifts to them.

Anjem I'm less clear on... He's bad at cleaning but Astral doesn't mind particularly (and also doesnt produce enough soot for it to be a problem). The rigid structure of his life gives him comfort in its reliability but he does often long for some of the luxuries Shades get. Like nice clothes and better food. He doesn't like coffee though haha. I don't think either of them ever realise the brainwashing thing bc Anjem's too picky and never fully swallows the coffee anyway, sometimes vomiting it out. He still gets the effects partially though

Goals: I think Astral does want to escape the House eventually - he doesn't care too much for getting everyone else out, he just wants to find more and more humans and learn everything he can about them. Anjem I haven't decided too much yet. He knows Astral's goal and wants to be there with him to see it too, to travel the world, but I think he'd be scared of taking that step.

I think he wants to see his siblings again, one last time

Roles: Oop... Astral's power is very good for healing wounds so technically the relief team would be good for him but I personally wouldn't put him in a room with so many humans in it XD He keeps his power very downlow but regardless, I think he'd have made his way into the relief team. He's their bigger advocate on training to treat dolls better.

Anjem wanted to be in the research team instead but, as a Face, he has to tag along and look pretty

Power: At first Astral was pretty bad at controlling his power. He doesn't have blood himself after all, it was very unknown territory. In fact, the only way he Did grow better at it was When his experiments on Anjem failed. They could be very dangerous failures too, in case his soot clogged a vein or he clotted uo the wrong part or forced it to produce too much blood. In his panic to fix it, he tended to reflexively reverse whatever he'd done and so far, though there have been catastrophes, Anjem hasn't died. There was a time when Astral stopped his heart but that's whatever, he's immensely better at controlling them now. He doesn't frequent the training room (especially since his powers require blood), but instead has perfected his powers through practice in his room. He does also keep a few vials of blood he requests from the relief team that uses to practice with at times.

He prefers it best when it's with Anjem though :)

There was once, when the brainwashing had worn off more, where Astral fucked up. In attempting to heal a wound on Anjem's wrist, he accidentally sped up the production of the blood and it poured everywhere, spilling out faster than healthy. Anjem, wide eyed and afraid that this time, he was going to die, scrambled away from him screaming. He tried to run away but the pain was blinding him so much he could barely concentrate. Nothing Astral said could convinve him to calm down, and the last thing he saw before passing out was Astral roughly grabbing at his arm.

Astral was able to stop the blood, working with this as an experiment to control his area of effect, and sealed the wound. He bandaged it up and treated it with care, pressing a careful kiss of regret on the bandage and on Anjem's hand, the black mark staining his skin.

Anjem woke later in his box. He was afraid and angry and upset. He didn't talk to Astral for a full week, only interacting with him as a Face. Astral was heartbroken by this and apologised many times. They made up finally, after Astral stopped him from cleaning and held his hands, about to apologise again, when suddenly Anjem lifted the shade's hands and pressed a kiss to each.

"I'm tired of this. I miss speaking with you. I forgive you, so stop apologising every time I enter a room."

That mended things but going forward, Astral started getting external vials until he was better at his control.

Tidbits!

Astral likes his name but also wants to be separate from it. In private, he asks Anjem to call him "Aster" as a similar compromise. Anjem means "star" in arabic - he named his Face to match the name he preferred :)

Anjem is mostly good at reading Astral's emotions but they have a system of handsignals and body language to indicate the faces they want to make.

I've been thinking on them and their age awhile. I hadn't noticed when I made them that adults get finer clothes than the chikdren but I refuse ti change my design, I'm attached </3 I think they're similar to Barbara and Maryrose - old but still in the children's wing by virtue of not being given an invitation

This is partly due to Anjem's scar but mostly due to Astral's refusal to be useful outside of the bare minimum (this is not a noble thing, he's lowkey just lazy)

Oh my god I wrote a lot sdjbhf

Yeah!! That's them! That's my boys. I'm thinking of making a couple more too - I want to explore the idea of someone using their Face to hide disguise their real emotions

Thank you so much for asking 😭 it means the world to me and got me to think about them more

As an extra, have a doodle of Anjem's second sight of Astral:

[woolying]

HAPPY HALLOWEEN ‼️ 👻 🤍

this is based on their halloween costumes from last year (it is actually a redraw of the piece i did back then and posted on twt ill put it below bc its kinda bad alas thats why we improve)

(reblogs are appreciated <3)

the original from oct 2022