#you r blessed by the shipping gods

[fairyringsandwings]

Has anyone told the Attoye fandom on tumblr they got a full page of their otp in the Black Panther Wakanda Forever Activity Packet?

[lunar-years]

Okay I’m in the process of rolling my expectations back to avoid disappointment so I’m back to believing we’re getting a confirmed Roy/Keeley endgame and I’m only hoping they don’t write Jamie having a weird (in a bad way) reaction to it 🙏🙏

[papaiyatree]

wow!! going into the sonic idw tag was a fucking mistake!!

[microwaving-tesilid-argente]

.

[welcometoteyvat]

back to your regular liyueposting

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

💖 APHRODITE: Goddess of Love and Beauty 🕊

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

When you arrive at camp, you’re already got eyes following you. There’s something about you that draws people’s eyes to you. It could be your face, your hair, your eyes, your hands when they move, how you walk, how you move. So when you get claimed by Aphrodite, your fanfare is totally expected by others and unexpected when you get a magical makeover by your godly mother’s blessing. You’re dressed to the nines, your look done up perfectly like you're a movie star walking on the red carpet. People stare at you with awe and you can feel it.

The moment you are shown the Cabin, all you can think of is “Oh god it’s a god dang barbie mansion”; this may either fulfill your deepest childhood dream or your worst nightmare.

There’s gossip everywhere in the cabin. You’re hearing about people’s love lives, social interactions, and everything about the people in camp. Even if you’re not as romantically inclined yourself, you’re practically spoiled for choice for hearing about drama. There may be no TV or shows for you to watch, but this is the next best thing. It’s like the Kardashians, House Wives, and Golden Girls all the same.  

Shipping. So much shipping. Shipping between campers in your cabin and outside the cabin. Shipping between movie stars to literal characters. Heck, even self-shipping is encouraged! It’s a shipper's galore. 

The Aphrodite cabin likes to have fashion runs. A lot of the Aphrodite demigods become models and do a catwalk. But if you’re not that interested in being a model, there are still ways to participate. 

If you like to design and make your own clothes, the Aphrodite cabin has your back. You have access to all types of fabrics, patterns, and materials you could need. You have no shortage of models for you to work with. If you’re interested in doing make-up, cosmetic or movie makeup,  you have plenty of people to practise on. Even if children of Aphrodite have the ability to have permanent makeup and whatnot, it doesn’t mean you still can’t use your skills to be on fleek. 

You know the meme where you see a woman putting eyeliner with the sword to make sure it's sharp? You see that way too often.

You're swiftly proven that functionality being sacrificed for fashion is a myth. It can be done and it has been done, but it's just some outweigh functionality with AESTHETICS

Stans. Stans everywhere. People don’t usually see the Aphrodite kids fight and break character unless it comes to their stan. If you haven’t seen them fight before, you do now. You’re still reeling from the BTS stans.

K-dramas. K-pop. Enough said. 

You look at yourself as best as you could, it was both familiar yet foreign.  It was like looking at the mirror, seeing yourself and all the positives of your body. Even if you had a negative view of yourself, it was gone and changed.  

A girl stepped up, her black hair swaying, and you looked at her in awe as she smiled at you. “Hi! My name is Silena Beauregard, welcome to Cabin 10!” 

“Oh hi” you said lamely, but before you could say anything further, you saw a large amount of pink in your vision. “Oh my god” you couldn’t help uttering as soon as your eyes laid on the Aphrodite cabin. It was pink in glory, and all you can think was that it was a true to god barbie house. 

“Ah yeah,” said Selina, “Welcome to the Barbie house.”

“Wait it’s really called that?” 

“Well, we really shouldn’t be calling it a Barbie house, but ... .I do admit it is pretty much a barbie house” Selina whispered in the last part. 

You couldn’t help snicker and Selina gave you a knowing smile and wink, before she led you to the door.

“You ready?” she asked. 

“Ready as I’ll ever be” you replied after taking a deep breath. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be here for every step of the way” she reassured and you smiled back. As soon the door opened, there was a waft of perfume. It wasn’t particularly strong or particularly bad, in fact it made you happy, but you could smell it anyways. There was a twinge of emotion that stirred up in you; it reminded you of smelling a perfume that reminded you of home and love…for some reason, you had a flash of a woman holding you to her chest and you burying your nose into her, your eyes closing with warmth.

“Hey everyone, let me introduce you to our new half-sibling!” introduced Selina, gently putting a hand on your shoulder. You raised your hand and waved, introducing yourself. That was all it took before the flood work came. Immediately, all the inhabitants in the cabin begun to interview you from where you were from, your favourite colour, your favourite colour, band, and etc-

Your head was absolutely swimming but as you all talked to each other, sharing your likes and dislikes, you had a feeling you were going to be alright.

[yanderemommabean]

MammaBean! If ye have the time, may we please have more yandere murder hornet king! 🐝

The scent of honeysuckle wakes you up, and you begin to groggily rub your eyes. The last thing you can piece together is running away from basecamp as an insect invasion took your crew mates, and demolished your way home. 

You were definitely lost, but now it seems you’re no longer thirsty, or even that hungry for that matter. You weren’t freezing, and the cuts you had acquired while fleeing the attack seemed to be bandaged and healing. Did your group survive? Were you in an infirmary and back at the ship? 

“Awake now? Good…I do hope you’re able to understand me” a deep voice rings, making you jump and clutch the blanket laying on you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, my little flower”. 

You’re frozen, meeting the dark gaze of the creature in front of you. It was one of the aliens who attacked, who massacred your teammates- and it appeared this one was the king. Larger than the others, bolder colors, even more of a dangerous aura, there was no doubt. 

“You seem so frightened. I apologize, my kind is rather vicious when it comes to protecting the hive, I can see why the defeat would devastate you. However, I must say, surviving has put you in a favorable light”. 

Humanoid talking murder hornets. You’ve got to be in a coma or on drugs. Hopefully both. 

“What…what are you going to do to me?” was all you could muster to say. Out of the hundreds of questions you had, the only one that really rang out was the punishment you would receive for surviving. Would you be worked to death? Beaten and killed? Jailed and held captive for ransom? There had to be a reason they didn’t just kill you off. 

The large winged creature chuckled, sitting beside you on your bed, his claw coming to wipe your hair out of your face. “My little flower...So scared, so worried. Do not worry, I will keep you safe, away from any harm” he gestures to the entire room, arm outstretched as he speaks “This is just one of the many safe rooms in my hive. My kingdom, if you will. No harm is to come to any of my people or allies within here, and those who break my rule, are put to the racks”. 

“R..Racks?” 

He laughs, gently rubbing your head affectionately “Hahah! Do not worry yourself with those vile thoughts. I’ll answer all of your questions. Firstly, I must ask…What is your name? And how can I thank you for wandering into my life at the right time?” 

What?

“Wait wait- what are you talking about? I-I didn’t come here on purpose if that’s what you think! I-I wasn’t sent or given as a trade!” 

“No, you were a lost little thing. A gift given to me by the gods while I was lost in my own despair. You were my blessing from beyond the clouds, and I cannot wait to indulge you in my love, and in return, let myself indulge in you”. 

(Mkay this is a bunch of BLEGH but I hope you enjoy bean! -Mommabean)

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

x g l a s g o w g r i n n e r

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x f!OC / 2.1k words

Soap’s always been a little too comfortable playing at violence, always gone-bright when he can turn the threat of it into a promise. Joke’s on the world at large: Special Agent Bordelon’s into that shit.

Or: Soap pulls a knife on a stranger for being a creep, because he’s from the brutal street stabbing capitol of the UK and that’s just how you say “Hi, hey, hello—back the fuck off.” And a million kisses to @lunarvicar for encouraging my bullshit! LOVE YOU NAT 🫶

It is never hard to run with Soap and keep his breakneck pace—the only thing that had been difficult was adjusting to the fact that someone else could finally keep up with hers. It’s a stomach-thrilling shock to look from the corner of her eye, and find the blur of his burly shape there, winking and clicking his tongue without breaking a sweat.

Bordelon is soft for the Scot sook, god forsake the shit out of her.

He’s landed in D.C. on medical leave, a broken collarbone leaving his arm in a sling, and the first thing he’d done—after kissing his way up her neck to the spot behind her ear that made her skin sing and her palms sweat—was sling his good arm around her neck, pulling her in close, and nibbling her earlobe. “Christ, s’it always pishin’ it doon here, too?”

“Naw,” she laughed back, reaching to tangle their fingers together on her chest, his backpack slung over her shoulder, “just October, couillon.”

“Ohh, talk that dirty, fake French to me, mah cherry,” he mock-growled, which just earnt himself a pap! of the palm to his cheek. All play, no sting, and he beamed.

That night burns down to the coals—traipsing back to her apartment, showing off the ugly bruise that bleeds does from his neck to his bottom-rung rib, kissing and touching and figuring out a way to fuck that doesn’t hurt him too-too much.

(The man likes a little ache in it, here and there. Calls dichotomy in that blessed, rock-fall accent. Ratios of sweet to sour, black to white, sun and night. As if he had any more concept of balance and moderation than she.)

He lies across the bed in that silly-ass sling, watching her bitch her smart TV a blue-streak while wearing one of his threadbare navy t-shirts and nothing else. Rubs the spot at the bottom of his sternum, listening to rain slap heavy sheets against the old windows, and says, “Perdita.”

“Don’t you full name me,” she warns, shaking her head, because it is an ill-fitted address. For him, she is Hen, or Perdie, in much the same way he is her Johnny, Jean, or John-boy. A thing you love is all in how you name it, and their names are softened and held close; in the way of lovers who began as friends, once they were strangers no more.

“We’re getting married ‘fore I ship back tae Glasgow,” is how he finishes his thought, and Bordelon turns on her hips, back and forth, vaguely pointing the remote at the screen. He gives her a challenging tooth-sharp smirk. “Thought I should warn you.”

“Mhm. Yeah.” She wonders if she should count this a proposal, or call his bluff, and then she thinks—might as well nail both options to the fuckin’ wall while she’s got the knife. “We go our way onto the courthouse tomorrow. Keep it simple, ça c’est bon?”

International marriage is never that simple, though, and they’re both the wiser to it. But the sentiment is pretty, and it sparks amongst the hard-bought bonfire that lives in the depths of her chest, flames rising and licking to glorify his name. So, they call it an engagement, and Soap pulls a turn-around she doesn’t expect, turning his phone off to pull a shade of night over only the two of their heads.

He’s no family to call, apart from his 141, and even then, there’s a hesitance to his hands. Her man—her bombastic, beautiful bastard—could not stand to be a burden, no. A nightmare that is for him, himself. Even if he were to reach out with the utterly, desolately rare delivery of good news (a phenomenon grown so rare that Neptune would sooner complete circuits around the sun these days), it would make his skin crawl.

Were he to have his way, his burdens would never leave the span of his shoulders to weigh down another’s back, even something as small as what might be an inconveniently timed but otherwise benign or even welcome call.

Come the gray and misting morning, he’s handsy and all-paws, even short a limb, groping for Bordelon as the woman rolls upright on the edge of the bed, pushing her sleep-tangled hair away from her face before it irritates her to death. His hand is warm, callused, and heavy with insistence as it settles into the dip of her violin hip, trying to pull her back into the warm expanse of his hard-packed body.

“Perdie, Hen,” he grunts, tone shading toward playful complaint, “the fuck’re y’doin’ awake?”

“Startin’ off,” she croaks, shaking her head, pushing at his fingers as they crawl closer to her cunt. “Stop that—arrête ça! You’re mangy this morning, T’Jean,” she laughs, pushing more firmly at his grip. “No, get up. Got a friend, knows her way ‘round immigration policy, and she always got an envie for brunch.”

“Brunch?” he questions, flat as buried flounder, falling back into her mountains of mismatched pillows with a dreadful look on that handsome face of his. “Darlin’, am no getting my fat ass outta bed, even for brunch. Feel kinda fruity even sayin’ it.”

“Even for to get us married?” she darts back, turning to look at him, drawing her fingers in circles through the hair on his lower stomach, cooing ridiculously in her rasp-rough drawl, “Even for me.”

“Goddamn,” he groans, throwing baby-dog eyes her way. “I mean, was hopin’ you’d take it serious—cannae tell wi’ your ass—but.” He swallows, one of those corny, I’m-about-to-fuck smiles threatening the corner of his mouth, the one that makes him all coy and keen, looking down at her pale, spidery fingers drifting closer and closer through his thick, dark body hair to his fattening cock. “Wouldn’t you rather stay in bed? Cold morning like this, I could keep you warm.”

She just barely brushes her fingers over his cock before she’s snap-sliding out of bed, copperhead quick, tossing over her shoulder, “Nope! Already sent an email, she knows we on the schedule,” on her way to the shower.

Soap drops back against the bed, rubbing his stubbled face, grunting, “Bordelon, you arsehole.”

But he can’t withstand the siren call of watching her in the shower, so, ever-faithful and ever-horned up, he follows after.

D.C. is about as filthied up with the sorrows of addiction and homelessness as any other place, Bordelon supposes. Can’t tell if it’s better or worse than any of the time she spent down New Orleans or Baton Rouge way. Colder, mostly. But it’s not all the time you need to know about the homeless or the drug addicts—keepin’ eyes on them, keepin’ them in your ears, at least at the sides.

Sometimes, it’s the fella in the khakis, with a puffer jacket and prescription glasses, his behaviors making his Rolex look cheap shit.

Bordelon and Soap slide last into the car before the doors pull shut, close to standing-room early in Crystal City as lunch hour approaches. All the suits are out their offices, scrounging for edibles, droning loud and monotone on their cells. Whole car is damp and humid from the downpour, human body heat causing an intense mugginess that crawls under the clothes to irritate the skin. It’s damn near enough to make Bordelon’s head spin, neck uncomfortable with sweat the way it was all them years down deep, deep in the south.

“No, sit doon,” Soap says, flapping the good arm great and wide, trying to get her to pop a squat on the only empty seat left, shaking his head. “Dinnae try bossin’ me, talkin’ wi’ that spooky-arse agency voice. Want away from you a minute.”

He dresses up chivalry as dismissal, and she can’t help but grin, even as she dawdles on sitting.

“What? You don’t like how Tiffany sounds? I swear, she’s perfectly nice. And outstanding in her field. She’s an accomplished agent, and her superiors are recommending her for a promotion,” she says, in that self-same agency voice of which he’d complained—rich and clear, dialect: nonregional, speech pattern: nondescript.

“Oof, fuckin’ hate that, stop,” he snorts, faking a shiver, but he does complain, “Hey, what? Where you goin’?” when she actually does move to sit down, tugging her up by the collar of her shirt just a bit to pop a grinning kiss against her mouth.

She doesn’t realize, at least not right away, that the tug at her collar disrupted her shirt. Just enough to make a few buttons slip, exposing more of her right tit under her open coat. Wore a thin top today, loose, but figured the dark fabric would hide any transparency. Hated tight clothes, hated bras, and never wore one; just figured her rack had spent thirty-three years being nothing to comment on.

Well. More than half a tit exposed was enough to catch the attention of the man who cheapens his Rolex by being the one to wear it.

Soap likes strange things because he, himself, is a strange thing, and Bordelon had thought to take him the two hours north to Philly to hit the Mütter Museum to see their medical abnormalities, because once their brunch is out, they’ll have an entire day to themselves. She’s busy showing him pictures, enticing him, when the woman next to her taps her thigh.

Like an alarm hollerin’ in her head, she starts running two tracks instant-like, leaning without looking as she whispers, “Yeah, chere?”

The woman is older, in maroon scrubs—some kinda tech, smell of jelly on her says maybe ultrasound—and nonslip clogs. Can’t quite see her name badge, but that seems on purpose, covered up by her fleece.

“That man over there—he’s takin’ pictures of you,” she whispers back, straightening her jacket needlessly as a hint, “just wanted you to know. Maybe tell your man?”

“Oh, no,” Bordelon hums, smoothly pulling her shirt back into place, “I tell him, he gonna light that stupid bastard up like a candle.”

“Who’s lightin’ me up like a candle?” Soap stage-whispers, all play, and Bordelon knows exactly how the next ten seconds are gonna go, and it plays out picture perfect to her premonition. Bordelon tells him don’t worry, I got it, the Good Samaritan in maroon scrubs informs him of the creep, and the smile on Soap’s face turns into a flesh-ripper grin as all the fun burns outta his gaze like a gas fire in a hyperbaric chamber.

“Oh?”

“MacTavish,” she warns him, “wait til the stop.”

“Naw, naw, naw. I’ll play nice, Hen.” That means, sure as shit, he won’t.

The switch knife he takes out his back pocket is deadly smooth, and so is his broad step to the stranger and his budget, Amazon-bought phone case, pushing straight into his man-spread legs.

The fact there isn’t an immediate uproar, but the man’s face is blanched and staring up at him with a shitload of oh fuck on his face speaks to Soap’s own scary-ass career, and Bordelon can barely see the tip of the knife pressing into the spot just below the stranger’s ribs.

“Hey, pal, mornin’,” Soap says, bright and easy as anything, voice not droppin’ even a note, head tilted real friendly. “Do me a favor, eh? Just drop your phone next t’my boot, yeah? We’ll just get this little creeper session done and dusted.”

Can’t even hear the clunk when it slides out of the man’s limp hand, and it’s even quieter when the heel of Soap’s boot shifts over to destroy the screen, grinding it to dust.

“Good man,” he says, pulling the knife back to close it and slide it into his sling. “Next stop, you’re off. But you’re gonna leave your phone on the floor. Hope you dinnae eat shet on the way home to your ol’ lady.”

Bordelon resists the urge to slap a hand over her face, but when Soap kicks the phone back to her, she catches it under the toe of her boot, catching the expression of the tech to her side, unsurprised but impressed. Must have herself a man like Soap, waiting for her to make it home.

“Sorry ‘bout the screen, Perdie. Think you can get in there and delete his shet still?” Soap asks, tone a bottom lip pout, and Bordelon nods, tucking her fingers into the back of his belt before snaking them up under his shirt, swirling her fingertips into his back dimples.

“Hah. You know it, Johnny,” she hums, looking up at him from under her lashes. It’s a tenderness, sweet and true, taking up space between her lungs. Mad bastard. Crazy motherfucker. Loony bitch. When he looks back at her, he curls his fingers under her jaw, looking relieved. Poor thing knows hit dog hollers, and he long ago stopped yelping when he was struck. He’s looking to be told he didn’t do something bad. But she finds his pace, she always does. Of course, she did.

But that goes beggin’ the question: what’s a hellhole-heart like her supposed to do with a love like this?

Tag List: @alittleposhtoad @skinnyazn @dotcie @snail-eggs @parttimeprophet @kastlequill 💖💖

[fateandloveentwined]

5 notes on Xie Lian and maybe a note more

omg this took so long i'll proofread in the morning. written in chinese originally, under "read more". annotations on [google docs] with translations to come because there are too many.

(if you do chinese, skip to the cut! it is way better than the translation cri.)

it is fortunate that their ship name is coined Hualian and not Hua-xie. The flower withers, the petals fall. Yet there is a time for blossoms, a time for withers — if huaxie it really is, still it is befitting of their eight hundred years of separations and reencounters.

仙花垂憐，川城傾謝。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在無間，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

o n e .

He was pierced by a hundred swords. Thereafter, he offered to be pierced again. The nightly terrors that prowl wild in his dreams: he was ready to embrace it once more. The heart pierces, and yet it trembles.

t w o.

A thought experiment: if Wuming didn't die for Xie Lian at the rematerialisation of the hundred swords, would Xie Lian have accepted his second ascension?

The world is a wretched sea. Mortals, misery. Some people carry with them the weight of conscience, atlas or abyss on their shoulders as they edge stepwise towards the heavenly skies, for they know that the higher they go, the more power they wield in their hands to change the course of the stars. Lin Shu stands on the shoulders of legacy and demarcates Conscience on the ground. He steps into the encirclement he has carved: he holds himself hostage and falls into the nether realms of the incessant inferno, subject to an unyielding pursuit for bygone honours and nobility in store. It takes courage, to live like this.

But it also takes another kind of courage, to not live like this. Xie Lian wasn’t like Lin Shu. Dethroned, mortalised, buried and stripped of power and grace, he wandered on earth for eight hundred years. He did not save the destitute mortals, desolate and crying for help. He did not bestow on them the bountiful blessings, as what a god could do. The did-not-do’s — it takes in another courage to be him.

t h r e e.

Had Xie Lian really collected scraps these eight hundred years? To deny would be an injury to his memoir, but there is more to that. He served as the high priest of a kingdom, a general to an army; through the grapevine, the crown prince in white had played many roles on the stage of life, a hundred years here in the role of one, and a hundred from forth in the robes of another. In time, the tales of the one who inspired rose and ebbed, yet the legacies remain. He didn’t protect the people with his deified status, yet what endures is his compassion and mercy. In the rain, the figure clad in white walks past the world in joy and tears and touches the hearts he passes — this was his salvation, and his ascension to godhood.

f o u r.

At his second banishment, Xie Lian implores Jun Wu to assuage him of his merit and luck. Mortals light incense in exchange for blessings in supplication. Xie Lian disperses Fortune to earth instead, and disassembles Divinity for the common people to carve out blessings of their own lives.

The works of one cannot salvage the teetering constructs of a foundering world. The world is a tapestry of woven histories; people save the people as the tales unfurl. The stitches tangling in a sea of light, blessed faces lit up in the night by the millions of lanterns adorning the households of the earth, keeping it bright as stars in the sky. And it was so, what Xie Lian and Hua Cheng did.

f i v e.

The sword nears his neck: he is unfazed. The tenderness and gentleness of the noble spirit endures, staid as the meekness of nephrite jade. In the vicissitudes of temperaments, he sits, blasé; he does not concern himself with the triumphs and setbacks of life.

Clouds and storms wash across the world as he continues, with eased smiles and casual dialogue.

It is the most pitiable thing, of all in the world, gazing upon one who smiles placid in face of abject misery. He laughs in his affliction, yet is there such a thing, to be okay in utter wretchedness?

Fleeting moments of forlornness and joy all condensed in the time of a single gaze: his experiences refine him into a jade of the heart. The days of the ingenuous youth awash in ages past, gone were the luckiest teen of the kingdom, but the pureness in the eyes behind the sheaths of pain remain.

— I’m used to it, it matters no more;

who is there in this race with him but the immutable laws of nature in the crescent moon and wind?

The splendour surges, the crowds fete, the splendour falls — in the desert there is none: there is no glass of water waiting at your salvation. Dust and silt fork at each’s turn of fate; flies shovel across the path towards their better destinies. So long as one has feelings, has desires, how could one be truly free? The flower remains. The vista is unchanged. Yet the splendorous tower — the radiant memories of the past — bygones — and still he says that although the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives content. Where, pray, is the fount of the utopian peach blossom? How so, that the heart is at peace, in face of all this?

Yet he is well. His heart at peace. Where the heart lies, the peach blossoms spring.

+ 1

Xie Lian is this person, as such. Though the spring of the peach blossoms have long since dwindled, he hopes, towards.

Original chinese version below the cut

所幸，他们选的CP叫花怜，不是花谢。不过“花落花开自有时”，若真为花谢，也配合他们这八百年的聚散离合罢。

仙花垂怜，川城倾谢。

Heavenly flowers empathise and shed mercy; entire rivers and cities bow down in gratitude.

身在无间，心在桃源。

Whence the body dwells incessant the heart thrives beyond, content.

一、

百剑穿身后复挺出，再一次历万剑戳戮之痛。这一点，我是痛心、亦是悸动的。

二、

有过这样的想法，花城若是没有为谢怜挡下了第二次的万剑戮身，怜怜是不是不会愧疚如斯，会接受第二次的飞升？

“琅琊榜”林殊跟谢怜是不一样的。苍生于苦海，有的人会承载着毕生愧疚跬步而行，因为上了天庭，才有最大的力气赋以一拼，拯救最多的人。此后一生举步维艰，承载着、背负着的不再是一个人小时候的清平理想，更是踩着他人骨脊向上爬行的椎心之痛——往后是画地为牢，是不顾己身也要焚尽一切，济众生于颠簸的无间岁月。这无庸置疑是一种勇气。

可谢怜没有这么做。失去了神力、身分，八百载流连人世，他没有拯救到苍穹下的芸芸众生，没有为他们争取最大的福祉。可这，也须要另一股勇气。

三、

谢怜这八百年真的去收破烂了吗？有，当然有。可他当过国师、当过将军，成就过数之不尽，江湖传闻中不为人知的百年故事。他没有以神明身分保佑万民，可他的慈怜犹存；雨中笠者，垂緌间点拂人间百态——这是他的拯救、他的神明。

四、

第二次飞升之际，谢怜哀求君吾散去自己一身功德、一身气运，自此潦倒人间历尽尘俗。人皆供神求福，谢怜将其福泽尽散，颠沛流离之人得享其华。他致神明于凡人，使世间重拾自由、意志。

孤木难支，一人之劳无能挽苍生、解万苦；大厦将倾，独木焉能匡扶？拯挽苍生，自苍生始，遂藉��民之手拯之。此后万家灯火灿若星河，烟火千里红尘无虞。谢怜、花城做到了。

五、

刀斧加身而神色不改、面无惧色，谦谦君子温润如玉，今古兴衰谈笑风生中雨过天青。宠辱不惊，看庭前花开花落；去留无意，望天上云卷云舒。

云淡风轻。

最疼是口是心非之人，三两莞尔散去心中阴霾，愈是疼痛，愈是笑逐颜开，浑若无事。可刀斧悬颈，万剐千刀，心中岂能无恙？

百般悲喜付诸抬首一眸，千番历练炼就柔和似水：如切如磋、如琢如磨。削磨净尽的是昔日的棱角利刃，透澈瞳帘背后是磔刑凌迟般的刀剜苦楚。“习惯了，不足为外人道矣”——清风拂我，明月清风我。

可笑这世间起朱楼、宴宾客，人情冷暖的荒漠里连救命的一杯水也不肯施舍。浮沉各异势；泣血蝇虫笑苍天：蚁排兵、蜂酿蜜，有感情、有欲望，世间焉得自在者？花相似、景依旧，烟锁秦楼、却道“身在无间，心在桃源”。桃源何在，心何安之？

然心安。心之所向，是桃源。

Tl;dr：谢怜就是这样的人。纵武陵人远，吾往矣。

Full annotations found here. Untranslated for now because there are simply too many; I suggest copying and pasting into the browser if you are interested in the poetry and verses cited. Many of them are not used as per their original meaning, however, so it is 99% on me if you caught the reference but did not understand it.

Anyhow, a note on the two most important allusions, because there is value in such:

[1] 身在无间，心在桃源。Whence the body dwells incessant, the heart thrives beyond, content.

A suggested translation of "Body in abyss, heart in paradise" because I vehemently abhor the official tl.

Incessant hints to the nirvana of buddhism. I didn't play with the idea of using paradise like in John Milton's poem to encapsulate the utopian ideals of Jin dynasty Tao Yuanming's Taoist Peach Blossom Spring visions. In Tao's essay he expresses the notion "I can live in a peaceful provincial paradise where the peach blossoms spring and forget about worldly matters", which is not exactly the biblical Eden. Probably owing to the idea that Xie Lian never actively sought out an extraterrestrial, heavenly, peach-blossom-spring paradise, I did not translate it literally here but figuratively, though opinion probably divides on this one.

[2] 纵武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。

念武陵人远，烟锁秦楼。——《凤凰台上忆吹箫·香冷金猊》 李清照

李氏取自：

烟锁凤楼无限事，茫茫，鸾镜鸳衾两断肠。——《南乡子·细雨湿流光》 冯延巳

Extreme liberties taken. Li Qingzhao wrote the first poem from the perspective of a lover. She sits at her own chambers reminiscing about her lost lover. This in turn was alluding to Feng Yansi's poem. Both works reference a tower/chamber where two mythical lovers spent their time at before ascension. As such, this phrase denotes here something unattainable from past memories and someone locked in perpetuum, in stasis, waiting for something to come.

In relation to this line on the chamber/tower by Li Qingzhao, a direct allusion to Tao Yuanming's peach blossom utopia was also alluded to in Li's poem in the antecedent line, despite both being used to speak of romance and not sociopolitical utopian ideals. The sleep-deprived me thus thought it "apt" to cite both lines in the writing to express Xie Lian's longing for the peach blossom paradise, despite said paradise being no longer extant on Earth, and him being in incessant hell. The peach blossoms in question tie in with mxtx's allusion of the peach blossom spring in tgcf's famous quotation; thus explains the reason for all the convoluted quoting.

this much for now. I hope something makes sense, at least. The english version is very, very figurative since I realised the chinese version was nigh impossible to literally translate without dedicating a relatively great amount of time to it. I don't know how this will be received at all, but why hi, and hope it is something at least xD

[jaxxsoxxn]

That one scene from Hercules the Disney movie

Captain cold : I can’t believe you’re getting so walked up about some hero

Captain boomerang : this one is different. He’s honest and sweet. Captain cold : oh please 

Captain boomerang : he would never do anything to hurt me 

Captain cold : he’s the flash 

No, 'cause Boomer is probably so defensive about it. Cold would rather die than admit he cares, but he saw how Speedster can and will fuck you up, so whenever the two r just chilling around him, he gets full-on nitpicky.

Because of Flash's speed healing, I honestly doubt he has a lot of scars, especially from Digger, but the other way around? It's never anything too dangerous, usually a smaller cut that healed badly in the prison or something alike, but he has more than many scars from our fav Speedster. It's nothing that's too noticeable usually and his biggest harm was breaking his nose once or twice, which with how many times it was broken already makes it less than worth noting...

...for anyone, but Leonard Snart himself and his picky nature. Does he intend to make Flash feel bad with his snarky comments? Not exactly, but he's happy with it, even if they won't break up. Golden Glider absolutely adores it and tries her best to comfort Digger by saying "It's just in his big brother nature", but she's also not sure about what Flash wants from this relationship.

I wrote before that the JLA would need some time to understand that Digger is dating him without a second reason, but the Rouges? Some of them would eventually accept that Captain Boomerang and The Flash are dating just because they like each other and no-one is planning on changing their sides, even if Boomer is already on the grey-ish spectrum (tho most Rouges enjoy being on the grey-ish spectrum), some of them would never understand.

Trickster, for one, adores the fact that he can now hang out with the Flasher and just fool around! He's pretty fond of it and Boomer looks 100 times happier than before, so he's okay with it as long as it won't mess up anything.

Mirror Motherfucker- I mean, Master likes that he can annoy Barry more, but his fun is usually cut short because if there's one thing this man can do, it's running. The second Boomer is ready for their date or just happy to get somewhere else, he disappears. Him and Mirror boy ain't becoming besties any time soon, sadly. Lisa, who adores M&M(s), is a little sad because of it.

I feel like Captain Cold could warm up to the idea- (haha, get it?) but over all, he would not be a fan. You can see your totally-not-friend get his ass handed by a guy this many times before not trusting him with said totally-not-friend.

Weather Wizard would take a hot moment to warm up to the Speedster, but in the end, he'd be happy for the two (CC: Et tu, Mark?). He is the one and probably only Rouge that is willing to listen to Digger's rants about speedy. He's not trusting Barry per se, but he's not unhappy about the two together - even if there's no gain for him in it.

Golden Glider, a sour sweetheart she is, acts way more happily about it than she is - if she'll learn that Mark gets the juicy info from Digi, she's silently seething. Might be a little too much like her brother sometimes...

Heatwave, gods bless him, is slightly bitter about the fact that the Suicide Squad knows before them. Like, what do you mean people that kidnapped you know before us, your friend- he means, coworkers! He sulks a little, but as he's pretty happy for Digger, he is not as happy for Flash.

Also, a lil thing:

(expect possible ColdWeather/Hail aka CC x WW in the closest future <3 bc i lov 'em

Also the chatfic will happen!! I'll post the link to it, bc this mf is going to be on ao3, sorry <3 ships expected: Boomerflash, HarleyIvy, Flag x Deadshot for fun, Mirror Master x Golden Glider possibly, ColdWeather/Hail probably

It will be a chiller, easy to read and write ff! More info later <3)

[xxswagcorexx]

hell ya! please info dump about casino quartet that would be awesome

STARTS VIBRATING OKAY!! for those who dont know, casino quartet refers to the group/ship name of ash, branzy, clown, and red (also known as branzypierceswagdoons or the abcd's because. Ashswag Branzy Clown and red. Doons) . i am #)(%*@#()%*#(@% about them 4 reasons i will elaborate down the cut ^_^

reason one: oh my GOD the comedic potential of these fuckers is sooooo. not one ounce of communication or sanity between any of them god bless!!! they are all enablers of different things and all make each other worse!!!! they will kill each other over not doing the dishes!!! also the diff dynamics between all of them would be Insufferable like clown and branzy would just do So Much pda during the most inappropriate times while ash and red have to Put Up with it while beating the shit out of each other <3 cue clown and red coming back home and doing God Knows What (not talking about feelings straight up) (repressed emotions) (bullying) and ash and branzy get white girl wasted on whiteclaw of wine or whatever and ash bitches about red to branzy while branzy calls him babygirl (branzy is the only one that can call ash this) (once red overheard this and ash almost killed him) (he had to be held back by branzy and clown so he wouldn't kill him) (<- this one is sponsored by cherny)

ANYWAYS ash and clown r a funny bunch too. clown would Always attempt to get ash to do stupid shit and try to hit him with the big wet pathetic eyes and "but please?? for me.,.." and it only works 20% of the time when ash caves in (do not worry ash bullies clown back) (also literally based off of this) . both of them think they're the most normal ones . red and branzy r literally just vibing. imagine everyone else being insufferable/them being insufferable to others and they're like "omg hiiii bestie ^_^" and they chill and knit while drinking sweet tea together or whatever . they're awesome

REASON NUMBER 2: PUNCHES THE GROUND ok ok. they're like 0 canon content of them IN VIDEOS but u have to understand : the original team chaos had red in the group . and the only reason red left is bc they didn't tell him anything (also ash was asleep like 90% of the time L) but like. i think u Could do smth interesting with lingering feelings abt team chaos Esp considering ash Did go back to red and apologize for s3/team chaos and gave him favors .,.. that's if u wanna go Canon Compliant ofc but i think there Could be something that u could write abt clown and red being Farely loyal and strategic and ash and branzy being willing to betray and both being wildcards. i feel like u could do smth interesting with that (and also if you wanna go romantic) some polymary negotiations might b fun ti explore :thumbs_up: usually the Link between them is clown and red but i've also seen branzy and ash ^_^ either way they r rlly fun to think about either way!!!

i dont really like a reason number 3 so i will put this mangoball edit here . thank u for letting me indulge in my insanity

[aliusfrater]

"I don't ship wincest but I have eyes and I can see" literally the best way to put it god bless you

you get it. like those boys r weird in canon and im pretty content with that

[ichirukilover]

I closed the door to Bl/each after the tragedy of 6/86 and briefly opened a window to LA, because well that pair is my weakness and it made me laugh how treacherously I/R it was.

So when weeks ago I saw a beautiful I/R fanart on Tik Tok (The anime came back, so the algorithm decided it was a good idea to torture me), and the response to a comment that said "They should have ended up together "was "READ THE MANGA", I was baffled. I mean, what did that mean? had I read a fake manga all those years and the "real manga" appeared Da Vinci Code-style after 2016? Was it all a Jump conspiracy? Have we been duped all this time?

That piqued my curiosity, so I wandered around several sites, reading publications from the "correct/canon/real manga" point of view; and well, you'll see even worse things the bible says.

Here are my favorites:

"The I/H was evident from the beginning, just read chapter 0": yes, because a one-shot that is a sketch of the general idea of a manga, that goes through many revisions and rewrites is absolutely determinant in the development of the main manga, and seriously, what exactly is the evidence?

"HM arc is the ultimate proof of I/H, he went to rescue her and even came back from the dead for her": well, so did her other friends and even R/enji and R/ukia, maybe they were all in love with her too. And about the resurrection...just...never mind.

"I/H are perfect for each other" Here I could do a whole essay from a psychological point of view that proves that it is an absolute fallacy and was more than clear in the FB arc, in real life they wouldn't work and would be a toxic couple. And God knows at least that boy needs therapy.

"O***ime looks like Ma/saki" * Bombastic side eye. Criminal, offensive side eye *

"O***ime deserves I/chigo”: Oh, so he was some kind of trophy for being a good girl, so it wasn't enough to objectify her, they also do the same with the boy.

"Ru/kia was a shinigami and I/chigo was a human, and she's much older than him, their relationship was impossible." *Everything but the rain entered the chat*.

"I/H fought together against Y/wach": And we all know how well they (he) did, right?

"W/D/k/A/L/Y": *sigh* that's what it looks like when you try to fix a mess and fail miserably.

"W/D/k/A/L/Y's scribble": ...

"Anime invented IR": The studio simply pushed something that was already implicit in the original material and they knew it would sell more, it's basic marketing. Most of us knew what was filler and what wasn't (rolls eyes).

And there definitely wasn't a parallel manga that magically made sense of that ending. What a disappointment.

And I/R are the delusional and lacking in compressive reading? It's so much easier to say you just don't like people ship I/R, instead of sending them to read the manga or giving lazy arguments. Pathetic.

This was long, but I just needed to vent or something, because I honestly found the whole situation absolutely hilarious.

My English is broken, so I hope I have been understood.

PS: So in my delusional mind I/R is right now enjoying his honeymoon on the beach *wink**wink*.

Blessings.

As someone that didn't leave after the ending and has seen all these "amazing points" take form and basically became the classic "IH and pro ending dudebro agenda" list, let me tell you, I was and still am baffled too. No matter how many times I read them, I still get shocked at how some really believe that bunch of BS, or better they keep repeating it untill they'll believe it.

You adressed them in a simple but direct and straight to the point way, I don't even need to add anything to what you said, agree to all of it, wait lol well maybe I could add the the pilot chapter lit has In0ue de0d at the end of it but what do we know, that doesn't seem to matter to them lol it doesn't have to make sense smh

In our delusional mind that ichiruki honeymoon on the beach is so vivid and real... I wonder why lmao

[remyfire]

just had to pop in and say hello to a fellow animorphs kid. the animorphs to mash pipeline is real

spRINTING in and sliding into home base all cool and stuff yes hello :D :D

Animorphs my beloved. I started reading it way too young, probably, and we could only get maaaaybe 12 books out of the whole series in my library. I think I first found it before it was completed, actually, so maybe that's partly why, idk. But when we were dating, my wife nabbed me all of them in a big lovely digital package, so that's how like 20-year-old me got to finally finish reading the series and then cry my eyes out and stare at the ceiling for an hour processing it. Goddamn. Beautiful shit ;v;

Amusingly I had an Animorphs MASH AU pop into my head once, and it's going under the cut because I'm gonna go off at the mouth about it and I don't think many people will care about it, but you activated me and I'm excited now :D

It was specifically circling around Hawkeye being the only person to have this ability (no I have not yet decided how the escafil device got there before Elfangor did, don't worry about it, that's for later me to decide if I ever wrote it) and ending up morphing into Sophie for recon purposes because he could get away with a lot more scouting out of a suspected Yeerk installation as a wild horse than as a human in a jeep. Unfortunately the Sophie instincts make him too happy just to runrunrunrunrun. I think I had Radar as the only person who knew that Hawk had this ability, so when someone brought horse!Hawk back like "Oh hey I think the colonel's horse got out," Radar was just sweating and trying to pretend he wasn't hiding Sophie in her stall like "OH HOW WEIRD IS THAT," while Hawk who was rapidly approaching the two-hour mark was trying to very subtly trot into the barn and not panic Sophie as he morphed back out, bless them.

THEN my brain took it a couple of different routes! One was the variant of Frank's breakdown between S5 and S6. I posited the idea that a casualty that came in was the first to be infested, probably by a Yeerk scouting ship that went down somewhere deep in the forest, and when its alien host was dying on the ground and being investigated by a panicked American soldier, he didn't notice the lil slug creeping up his boot, over his pants, closer closer ever closer until it touched his face, and while he was in a panic and tripping over himself trying to get this thing off of him, he stumbles and bangs his head on something, and while he's reeling from it, that's when the Yeerk infests him. His host is now bleeding profusely from a head wound, though, and about to pass out, so when he ends up on Frank's operating table, this fucking Yeerk has already had a hell of a day.

So Frank manages to get infested by this Yeerk—again, I futz the details, they're not important rn hfkfd I think I posited Frank leaning down to hear what this gasping soldier is trying to say and the transition happening that way somehow—and the Yeerk is struggling to operate Frank's very poorly medically trained brain, so he is maiming and murdering casualties left and right. Everyone thinks he's cracking up because of Margaret's recent marriage, so they send him off on R&R. And the thing is that this Yeerk is starving and has been already for a full day, so the second Frank is there in Tokyo, his Yeerk has started to go insane from the lack of kadrona rays, and god bless Frank, but he was fragile enough already, and his conservative little mind was already paranoid and keen for conspiracies as it was, so he goes straight off the deep end. He does not get sent home with a promotion. He just happily believes that he did.

And then my brain took it a beejhawk route as I am wont to do where Hawkeye needs to know who is trustworthy around him, and he desperately needs to know if he can talk with BJ about what he's seen, what he's experiencing, so he gets them three-day passes and takes him to Seoul, and for the very first time...Hawk seduces him, and barely within minutes of arriving. And there's this brief pause before BJ surges into him with this low hum and unabashed, languid desire, and Hawk ends up pinning him down on the bed and making a quiet choked sound before he looks up at him with a feline grin and murmurs how he wants to play a game with BJ.

And this is how Hawk ends up tying BJ to a chair tight as he can in the middle of a Seoul hotel room, all while whispering the filthy things he's gonna do to Beej once he's got him secure. And then once he's checked all the knots and knows BJ can't get out of them, Hawk catches BJ by the chin and grins and looks him right in the eye and whispers, "I've got just under three days here alone with you. And you're gonna die the slowest, most excruciating death possible. And when you're squirming free, doing everything you can to find just one shred of food, I'm gonna laugh myself silly over how pathetic you are. And then I'm gonna grind you into a puddle for daring to get your disgusting little slime all over this fella's perfect fucking brain." Because he knows Beej wouldn't have drifted that easily into an affair with him, not without at least some degree of grief and self-directed frustration.

And unbeknownst to him, BJ—who has been so goddamn careful the entire time he and Hawk been working together to not let a lick of his desperate desire show through and tempt him, really tempt him—had intentionally pushed all those wet dreams and fantasies and hunger to the forefront of his mind just so his little Yeerk would bypass the sharp reluctance that BJ has to cheat again, so that it would instead think it was being incredibly clever, about to really wrap Hawkeye around its finger and find a way to make him another lovely host as well while his current one is all tied up with nowhere to go.

Something something watching the man you love writhe in agony for three days straight as his little parasite is using his voice to call you the worst fucking things possible with all the knowledge he has of what hurts you more than anything. Something something hearing him cry and plead and beg and promise you everything you've ever wanted with him if you'll just untie him, having to sit there against the wall with your head in your hands and whisper it's not him it's not him it's not him.

Man. What a fucking series, am I right? I'm really normal about it. Thank you for unlocking my babbling :D

[jojo-0-o-deactivated20231228]

The wooden floorboards creek and croak under the clickety clack of your newly acquired gilded leather boots as you make your way up to the deck, over vast hordes of fortune, past engorged piles of gold and spice, doubloons and silks, navigating mazes of stacked chests brimming with books and boundless scrolls. You tip- toe around your comatose crewmates, satiated by plunder and ransacked stores of rum, to the mast of your ship, and look out onto the horizon.

Heliotrope hues of dusk creep up behind the melting sunset, calming the raging gusts of the sea to caresses of the breeze. Wisps of ghostly silver swirl hazily amongst sporadic speckles of spangling starlight like a stewing soup in the sky, its delicate marbling mirrored on waves that twinkle under the moonlight. Skull and crossbones whip in the wind and the ship rocks lazily as if lulled to sleep by the cradle of the sloping sea. You sigh, contented, and pray to avoid a watery grave for many moons to come.

or, Books Master list:

A Series of Unfortunate events by Lemony Snicket, 1 through 13(Epubs)

Tales of Dunk and Egg by George R. R. Martin 01-03, 1, 2 & 4(Epubs)

A song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin, 1 through 5, including 4.5, A World of Ice and Fire, and Fire and Blood(no.1 is a PDF, the rest Epubs)

A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas, 1 through 4(Epubs)

All For The Game by Nora Sakavic, 1, 2, &3(Epubs)

Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery, 1 through 8(Epubs)

The Fowl Twins by Eoin Colfer, 1&2(Epubs)

Artemis Fowl by Eoin Colfer, 1 through 8(PDFs)

Carry On by Rainbow Rowell, 1, 2, &3(no.3 is a PDF, the rest Epubs)

Chaos Walking by Patrick Ness, 1,2 &3, including 2.5 and snowscape(snowscape is a PDF, the rest Epubs)

Chronicles of Alice by Christina Henry, 1&2(Epubs)

City of Ghosts by Victoria Schwab, 1,2 &3(no.1 is a PDF, the rest Epubs)

Children of Blood and Bone by Tomi Adeyemi, 1&2(Epubs)

Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu(Epub)

Heaven's Official Blessing by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu(PDF)

The Scum Villain's Self Saving System by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu(Epub)

Discworld by Terry Pratchett, 1 through 41(Epubs)

Divergent by Veronica Roth, 1,2 &3, including 0.5(Epubs)

Earthsea by Ursula k. Le guin, 1 through 6(Epubs)

The Farseer Trilogy by Robbin Hobb, 1,2 &3(PDFs)

Fence by Sarah Rees Brennan, 1&2(Epubs)

Folk of the air series by Holly Black, 1,2 &3(Epubs)

Harry Potter by J K. Rowling, 1 through 7(Epubs)

Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, 1, 2&3(Epubs)

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan(Epub)

Tears waiting to be Diamonds by Sarah Rees Brennan Parts 1&2(PDFs)

Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini, 1 through 4(Epubs)

The History of the Middle Earth by J R. R. Tolkien, 1 through 12(Epubs)

The J R. R. Tolkien collection: Bilbo's Last Song, Tales from the Perilous Realm, The Children of Hurin, The Fellowship of the Ring, The Hobbit, the Hobbit(enhanced edition), The Legend of Sigurd and Gudrun, The Letters of J R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings (collection) Illustrated by J R. R. Tolkien; Alan Lee, The Lord of the Rings (collection), The Return of the King, The Silmarillion, The Silmarillion(illustrated) by J R. R. Tolkien; Ted Nasmith, The Two Towers, Unfinished Tales(Epubs)

The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer, 1 through 5, Including 3.1(4&5 are PDFs, the rest Epubs)

Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard by Rick Riordan, 1, 2&3, including From the Nine Worlds and Hotel Valhalla Guide to the Norse Worlds(Epubs)

Once Upon a Broken Heart by Garber Stephanie, 1&2(Epubs)

Percy Jackson by Rick Riordon, 1 through 5, including 4.5, Camp Half Blood confidential, Demigods and Monsters, Percy Jackson and the Singer of Apollo, Percy Jackson's Greek Gods, and Percy Jackson's Greek Heroes(Percy Jackson and the Singer of Apollo is a PDF, the rest Epubs)

The Heroes of Olympus by Rick Riordan, 1 through 5, including The Demigod Diaries(Epubs)

The Trials of Apollo by Rick Riordan, 1 through 5, including Camp Jupiter Classified(Epubs)

The Demigods of Olympus - An Interactive Adventure by Rick Riordan(Epub)

Shades of Magic by V. E. Schwab, 1,2&3(PDFs)

The Dark Artifices by Cassandra Clare, 1,2 &3(Epubs)

The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare, 1,2&3(Epubs)

The Last Hours by Cassandra Clare, 1&2(Epubs)

The Mortal Instruments by Cassandra Clare, 1 through 6(Epubs)

The Eldest Curses by Cassandra Clare 1(Epub)

Shadowhunter Chronicles extras by Cassandra Clare, including An Illustrated History of Noble Shadowhunters and Denizens of Downworld, Ghosts of the Shadow Market, The Bane Chronicles, and the Shadowhunter Codex(Epubs)

Six of Crows by Leigh Bardugo, 1&2(Epubs)

The Grisha Trilogy by Leigh Bardugo, 1,2&3, including 1.5 and the Darkling Prequel - Demon in the Woods(Epub)

Skullduggery Pleasant by Derrick Landy, 1 through 14, including 1.5, 2.5, 6.5, 7.5, 8.5, &13.5(Epubs)

The Kane Chronicles by Rick Riordan, 1,2&3, including The Kane Chronicles survival guide, and Demigods and Magicians(Epubs)

The Locked Tomb by Tamsyn Muir, 1,2 &3, including 0.5 and 2.5(Epubs)

The Magesterium series by Holly Black and Cassandra Clare, 1 through 5(Epubs)

The Raven Cycle by Maggie Stiefvater, 1 through 4, including 4.5(Epubs)

The Dreamer Trilogy by Maggie Stiedvater, 1&2(Epubs)

The Witcher by Andrzej Sapkowski, 1 through 6, including 0.5 & 0.75(Epubs)

The Wolves of Mercy Falls by Maggie Stiefvater, 1,2&3(Epubs)

Throne of Glass by Sarah J. Maas, 1 though 7, including 0.5(Epubs)

The Underland Chronicles by Suzanne Collins, 1 through 5(Epubs)

Unwind Dystology by Neal Shusterman, 1 through 4, including 1.5 and 4.5(Epubs)

The Vampire Chronicles by Anne Rice, 1 through 12(Epubs)

The Warrior cats series by Erin Hunter :The Prophecies Begin 1 through 6(PDFs), The New Prophecy 1 through 6(Epubs), Power of Three 1 through 6(PDFs), Omen of Stars 1 through 6(PDFs), Dawn of the Clans 1 through 6(PDFs), Vision of Shadows 1&2(PDFs)

A discovery of Witches by Deborah Harkness(Epub)

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenz(Epub)

Blindsight by Peter Watts(Epub)

Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Patterson(Epub)

Dune by Frank Herbert(Epub)

Elantris by Brandon Sanderson(Epub)

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell(Epub)

Hollow Kingdom by Kira Jane Buxton(Epub)

How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe by Charles Yu(PDF)

I Am Still Alive by Kate Alice Marshall(Epub)

I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver(Epub)

Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami(Epub)

More Happy Than Not by Adam Silvera(Epub)

One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich by Alexander Solzhenitsyn(Epub)

More Than This by Patrick Ness(PDF)

The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness(Epub)

Red, White and Royal Blue by Casey Mcquiston(Epub)

Salt to the Sea by Ruta Sepytis(Epub)

The Adventures of Charles, the Veretian Cloth Merchant, Captive Prince Short Stories Book 3 by C. S. Pacat(Epub)

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak(Epub)

City of Brass by S. A. Chakraborty(Epub)

The Martian by Andy Wier(Epub)

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern(Epub)

They Both Die at the End - Adam Silvera(Epub)

The Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo(Epub)

The Poppy War by R. F. Kuang(Epub)

The Song of Achilles by Madison Miller(Epub)

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern(Epub)

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zerin(Epub)

Torture Mom by Ryan Green(Epub)

Where I End and You Begin by Preston Norton(Epub)

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman(Epub)

Message me, or make a request in the notes, and I’ll send you a copy(via email)

[avastyetwats]

Watch The Flow

Continued from here. @izzyeffinhands

"For months?" He repeats in question, wondering if he heard that right. Months could mean either a few months or several months ago before they were even together. It had to be the former, right? Regardless, Stede was curious. He was dying from curiosity if he's being honest and it shows in the way he's practically shaking. He's about to ask again - about to beg again - but then he holds up a finger and Stede goes quiet and still, like an obedient puppy being told to sit and stay. He whines when Izzy walks away, his heart racing with anticipation, his stomach doing all sorts of flips as he anxiously waits.

Then Izzy returns and Stede starts bouncing again when he sees the large packaging. Whatever is inside of that is huge! "Oh my... Izzy, what is it? Can we open it? Please? Please!" He begs and pleads, but then Izzy is doing just that. He's setting it on their bed, taking out his knife and slicing it open. He makes a face every now and then as though scared he may cut whatever is inside of it, but he knows Izzy is smarter than that. Clearly. And always careful. He moves closer, still bouncing on his feet and rubbing his hands together, trying to resist the urge to reach out and help him open it, but he doesn't want to get in the way or take this away from Izzy. He doesn't want to--

GASP.

"Is... is that..." Already his eyes are welling with tears. "Is that my... my r-red coat...?" He can barely speak a full sentence without stumbling over his words, in complete shock and awe that he coat he fell in love with, that was nearly torn to pieces, that was forced to be left behind on the cursed ship was laying here in front of him. It looked new. It looked fresh. It looked... put together. On the front there was no rip, only evidence of repair and oh god. Oh, god he was crying now. Not only did Izzy somehow sneak this back on board for him, and keep this for months, but he even fixed it for him? No one has ever done anything like that for him. He's so overcome with emotion that tears are falling from his eyes now and before he even touches the coat he missed so dearly - honestly his favorite article of clothing ever - he throws himself at Izzy, wrapping his arms around him as he cries softly into his neck. "Oh, Izzy..." He murmurs, nuzzling into his neck. "Thank you. Oh, god, thank you." Most would think him silly for reacting like this over a coat, but Izzy would understand. He always understood Stede. He... was the only one that truly did. The only one Stede truly felt safe with, the only one he could truly be himself around without fear of laughter or ridicule. He was his safety, his home.

It wasn't just the item itself. It was the thoughtfulness behind it. It was Israel's love for him. That's what made him so emotional in this moment. To be loved so wholly, so completely, so deeply? It was the greatest thing in the entire world. It was everything to Stede. Israel was everything to him.

Sniffling, he pulls back and kisses him, then, with tears still running down his face. "You've... you've had this for months? Since..." Another sniffle as he wipes his eyes, turning to look at the coat once more. "It's been here all this time and nothing 'cursed' has happened. See, I was right." He chuckles, but he isn't sure he wants the crew to know just yet. He'd love to prove them wrong, and himself right, but he'd also much rather enjoy it himself for a while. "Shall I put it on?" But he doesn't even wait for an answer, because he's pulling away from Izzy and quickly grabbing hold of the coat, slipping it on with ease and oh, oh god, does he feel good.

Confident. Powerful. Charming. Sexy.

No piece of clothing has ever made Stede Bonnet feel all those things at once and more. This was not a cursed item. No. It was a blessing.

Grinning, Stede shakes out his arms and pulls at the front of the coat to straighten before he glances over at Izzy "Now watch the flow, darling." With a wink, Stede struts across the room - hips swaying, chin held high - until he's in front of the mirror and, much like those many months ago, does a twirl until he's facing Izzy again, lips curled into that charming smirk of his.