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jadenvargen · 2 months

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free online james baldwin stories, essays, videos, and other resources

**edit

James baldwin online archive with his articles and photo archives.

---NOVELS---

Giovanni's room"When David meets the sensual Giovanni in a bohemian bar, he is swept into a passionate love affair. But his girlfriend's return to Paris destroys everything. Unable to admit to the truth, David pretends the liaison never happened - while Giovanni's life descends into tragedy. This book introduces love's fascinating possibilities and extremities."

Go Tell It On The Mountain"(...)Baldwin's first major work, a semi-autobiographical novel that has established itself as an American classic. With lyrical precision, psychological directness, resonating symbolic power, and a rage that is at once unrelenting and compassionate, Baldwin chronicles a fourteen-year-old boy's discovery of the terms of his identity as the stepson of the minister of a storefront Pentecostal church in Harlem one Saturday in March of 1935. Baldwin's rendering of his protagonist's spiritual, sexual, and moral struggle of self-invention opened new possibilities in the American language and in the way Americans understand themselves."

+bonus: film adaptation on youtube. (if you’re a giancarlo esposito fan, you’ll be delighted to see him in an early preacher role)

Another Country and Going to Meet the Man Another country: "James Baldwin's masterly story of desire, hatred and violence opens with the unforgettable character of Rufus Scott, a scavenging Harlem jazz musician adrift in New York. Self-destructive, bad and brilliant, he draws us into a Bohemian underworld pulsing with heat, music and sex, where desperate and dangerous characters betray, love and test each other to the limit." Going to meet the Man: " collection of eight short stories by American writer James Baldwin. The book, dedicated "for Beauford Delaney", covers many topics related to anti-Black racism in American society, as well as African-American–Jewish relations, childhood, the creative process, criminal justice, drug addiction, family relationships, jazz, lynching, sexuality, and white supremacy."

Just Above My Head"Here, in a monumental saga of love and rage, Baldwin goes back to Harlem, to the church of his groundbreaking novel Go Tell It on the Mountain, to the homosexual passion of Giovanni's Room, and to the political fire that enflames his nonfiction work. Here, too, the story of gospel singer Arthur Hall and his family becomes both a journey into another country of the soul and senses--and a living contemporary history of black struggle in this land."

If Beale Street Could Talk"Told through the eyes of Tish, a nineteen-year-old girl, in love with Fonny, a young sculptor who is the father of her child, Baldwin's story mixes the sweet and the sad. Tish and Fonny have pledged to get married, but Fonny is falsely accused of a terrible crime and imprisoned. Their families set out to clear his name, and as they face an uncertain future, the young lovers experience a kaleidoscope of emotions-affection, despair, and hope. In a love story that evokes the blues, where passion and sadness are inevitably intertwined, Baldwin has created two characters so alive and profoundly realized that they are unforgettably ingrained in the American psyche."

also has a film adaptation by moonlight's barry jenkins

Tell Me How Long the Train's been gone At the height of his theatrical career, the actor Leo Proudhammer is nearly felled by a heart attack. As he hovers between life and death, Baldwin shows the choices that have made him enviably famous and terrifyingly vulnerable. For between Leo's childhood on the streets of Harlem and his arrival into the intoxicating world of the theater lies a wilderness of desire and loss, shame and rage. An adored older brother vanishes into prison. There are love affairs with a white woman and a younger black man, each of whom will make irresistible claims on Leo's loyalty.

---ESSAYS---

Baldwin essay collection. Including most famously: notes of a native son, nobody knows my name, the fire next time, no name in the street, the devil finds work- baldwin on film

--DOCUMENTARIES--

Take this hammer, a tour of san Francisco.

Meeting the man

--DEBATES:--

Debate with Malcolm x, 1963 ( on integration, the nation of islam, and other topics. )

Debate with William Buckley, 1965. ( historic debate in america. )

Heavily moderated debate with Malcolm x, Charles Eric Lincoln, and Samuel Schyle 1961. (Primarily Malcolm X's debate on behalf of the nation of islam, with Baldwin giving occassional inputs.)

----

apart from themes obvious in the book's descriptions, a general heads up for themes of incest and sexual assault throughout his works.

#james baldwin #motivated by i think people here think it's harder to find resources and read than it actually is. so much stuff online!#motivation nr 2 wtf

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matryosika · 7 months

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NCT127 + NCT DREAM: When they first slide it in

Members included in order — Jaehyun, Mark, Haechan, Johnny, Jeno and Jaemin. Genre — Smut headcanons (18+) Wordcount — 1,100 words Includes — Fem!Reader, suggestive content. Mentions of penetrative vaginal sex, use of petnames, dirty talk. Author's note — First NCT post! This was completely inspired by Juno's (@hyunsvngs) post on OT8 (skz) and the faces they would make when sliding it in. It's such a good read and if you missed it, pretty please go check it out! Wanted to do my own version with some NCT members, so here it is. This is mostly to try and fight back my writer's block, but I hope you all like it.

Jaehyun:

Eyebrows furrowed and lips slightly parted, definitely.

He is the type to let out quiet but deep sighs, and keeps his gaze fixed on where your bodies connect —when he first slides his dick inside of you, he needs to watch. He loves to see how your pussy swallows him full, loves to see it disappearing inside of you. If he is fucking you in missionary, his head would fall down to enjoy the show. But, as soon as he bottoms out, he is quick to lift his eyes up to see you. He needs to see your facial expressions, to hear those gasps and whines you let out whenever he hits the deepest spot between your walls.

Big fan of kissing your jaw and neck while he waits for you to adjust to his size, all whilst emitting quiet but deep groans. I honestly sense he is the type to ask you a question or two before moving inside of you, like a sweet “are you okay?” or “are you ready?”. But like in a whisper, barely even letting the words out. When you just nod, he hums, looking for your approval. “Mhm? Can I fuck you now baby?”

Mark:

It really depends on his mood.

If he’s acting all dom, like he is in control, he would try to act in control of himself as well —eyes close shut, and teeth digging on his lower lip. He is also definitely the type to whisper a long “fuck” as he bottoms out for the first time that night. But when Mark is too needy, and desperate, and he doesn’t really care about holding himself back, that’s when you see his true expressions when he first slides his dick inside you: hazy, lost gaze. I should add that he is also most likely to go a bit crossed-eye/blank eyes right before closing them slowly, immersing himself in the feeling. I can actually hear him saying “shit, just like that baby,” as your walls squeeze him just right. He would try really hard to make eye contact with you, but can you even blame him for not being able to? I just know his dick is always too sensitive, and it takes all effort within him not to come right then and there after first sliding himself inside you.

Haechan:

Oh he really fucking tries to hold himself back. Much more than he would like to.

Haechan tries to appear all collected, but he can feel his heart beating on his throat and his cock twitching when the tip is barely even in. He is the type to slowly close his eyes, almost at the same time he slides his dick right in; also lets out a deep sigh along with all of it. He would pretend he is unaffected by how warm and slippery you are, but his hands would betray him shamelessly —if he is holding you by your hips, he would grip them almost painfully; if he is holding your hands, he would squeeze them too harshly. I also feel like Haechan is the type to curse under his breath or whisper things to himself when he first feels your walls clenching tightly around him. A “so fucking tight” might escape his lips, or an almost whiny “oh God”.

Johnny:

He talks you through it.

It’s not necessarily because I see Johnny mostly as a dominant, but I feel like he loves to take the lead in situations like this. He is the type to make sure you’re really comfortable, that he feels just right inside you. All of his psyche is focused entirely on you, so it’s no surprise that he can control all of his facial expressions and body language to admire and take care of yours. And because he is so in control of himself, I can’t really picture any instinctive or involuntary gestures from him. Nothing but one: a fucking deep, almost predatory gaze. His eyes never leave yours.

If, by any means he cracks, I can picture him as one to slightly part his lips and let out a quick gasp.

If he sees you crying, or whining, his eyebrows would go from a straight line to a subtle furrow and he would want to know how you’re feeling, “too much?”, “slower?”, “talk to me, pretty”. I can also almost see his jaw getting tense when he bottoms out, feeling how your walls are squeezing his dick ridiculously aggressively, “want me to stretch you out for me?”, “You’re still so tight, baby. Weren’t my fingers enough?”

Jeno:

One word: veins.

I can honestly picture Jeno’s facial expressions in such a very specific way. He is definitely the type to let out a somewhat twisted smile when he feels how tight you are for the first time that night, the veins on his neck and forehead/temple becoming too prominent as he tries to regain the control your body has taken away from him.

Cheeks and nose flushed, and a really piercing gaze that makes you feel so small —whether you’re on top or underneath him. Jeno would be damned if he loses eye contact with you, he is the type to fix his gaze on yours as he slowly bottoms out inside of you. Also asks you questions to make you realize how cock-drunk you’ve become, despite him being barely in: “did you miss it, baby?”, or “how badly you want me?”. He doesn’t expect any kind of answer from you whatsoever, but he still scoffs under his breath when he sees how fucked out you’re by so little.

Jaemin:

Eyebrows so furrowed, eyes closed shut and lower lip caught between his teeth.

Jaemin definitely lets out a deep groan, or even a desperate whine, followed by a sweet “oh baby”. He slides his dick in and bottoms out painfully slow —to tease you and himself, of course. Like Jaehyun, only when he bottoms out does he open his eyes to see your face in pure bliss; he might even offer you a complicated, small smile at the sight of pain imprinted on your face. He takes his time prior to fucking you, and he just enjoys the feeling of your cunt cockwarming him. If your eyes start to tear up because of the big stretch his dick is providing you, I can definitely see him as the type to wipe your tears one by one while he gives you words of affirmation. Also feel like he is one to give you instructions on your position to feel his cock better. “There, baby. You’ve taken me before, open up your legs for me more, yeah?”

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #nct dream smut #jaehyun smut #mark smut #haechan smut #johnny smut #jeno smut #jaemin smut #kpop smut

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stormhearty · 3 months

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Paring: former Azriel x Reader

Triggers: mentions of cheating, mentions of death, cursing, a lot of bold and italicize

Word Count: 3K+

Summary: The High Lords called a meeting to discuss the Death-God’s resurrection. However, with the death of their Seer, tensions run high between Day and Night Court, Helion outraged by the loss of your life. Truths are revealed and lies are exposed. And what happens when the High Lords realize that they have all been too late?

Note: I thank you all for all the love you have given to my one shot!! I had never thought it would have been so well received by fans and writers! I am very amused by everyone's reactions and thoughts on the one shot — everyone is wanting blood and redemption for our poor reader. And she will! This chapter is a segway/filler chapter — but still important. It's still angsty, don't worry. This one shot will probably become a 3 part series. I know in that voting poll I had done asked if you guys wanted a 5k chapter, rather than a 2- 2k chapters, but I wanted to leave you guys with one more chapter to look forward to! Please look forward to it!

Part One | Part Three | Epilogue

<Pushed to the Edge> Masterlist

“You had abandoned my emissary, disregarded her sight and had her take her own life in your Court… And for what? Your mate’s sister’s powers?!” Helion was fuming, amber eyes staring the High Lord of Night down, “And that her mate — - “a growl escaped his lips, as he glanced at the Spymaster next to Rhysand, “Had cheated on her for said sister?!”

The High Lord of Day’s voice echoed throughout the throne room, shaking its very walls at the allegation of what had happen within the wards of the Night Court. Helion’s fingers gripped the edge of the large round table, his claws causing the wood to splint underneath his fingertips.

“And now… you are telling me that her body disappeared?” his voice deathly low, “That your Spymaster’s shadows had whisked her body away to — God-knows-where… That, that child, never had never had a proper burial?!”

Rhysand couldn’t utter a single word against the claims placed against him and his Court — he couldn’t when everything that Helion had roared was true.

“… Show me…” Helion hissed, focusing at his old friend, “Show us what had happened that day…”

Rhysand gulped, staring at Helion before glancing around the table towards the High Lords of Pyrthian. All of them staring him down before all felt the claws of Rhysand's power creeping in their minds, images of that day of your death playing in their minds — all of them watching the confrontation between the Inner Circle and you — on how you were cornered and betrayed, leading up to your very death.

He hated it. Rhysand not only relived that that multiple times during his dreams — where he had failed you. He now had to relieve it while he was awake. Hearing your pleads and cries for him to listen to your visions, and seeing your body dying on that marble floor — to watch it be taken away by tendrils of shadow.

Once the memory came to pass, sobs echoed throughout the room. Helion being the loudest as he ran a hand down his face, his form shaking in his seat. Rhysand glanced towards his Inner Circle, watching his family relive that moment as well; eyes focusing on Azriel, who gripped the arms of his chair as his face wrinkled in anguish at the memory.

It had been a month ever since your death, a month since the sliver of shadows that once served the Spymaster had taken your body away — unknown to even Azriel on where they had brought your body to. And a month ever since more and more whispers of Koschei’s resurrection echoed throughout the Courts. The Death-God’s power vibrating throughout all of Pyrthian — it was difficult to not miss.

The High Lords gathered in Day Court to strategize on the impending danger of the Death-God. However, it was no secret on what had happened in the wards of Night Court. The loss of your light present throughout all of Pyrthian — every High Lord felt it.

Especially Helion.

He wanted nothing more to hurt and maim every member of the Inner Circle; but that wasn’t the purpose of this meeting — though he wanted it to be.

Helion reigned in his emotions, trying to calm the rage that boiled in his blood. Trying to clam the sadness he felt for the loss of you. He straightened up in his chair, letting out a shaky breath, looking back at the Night Court High Lord.

“… I regret that I ever had sent (Y/N) to your Court, Rhysand,” his tone small and disappointed, “Her powers were wasted on you and your Court. A Seer taking their life, being betrayed by the people she called her family,” His head shaking, a laugh, one so loud and so sarcastic escaping his chest that it echoed in throne room, startling the other High Lords, making Rhysand flinch in his seat. “What a damn found family you made. Betraying one’s mate, betraying a person who had served you for five-hundred fucking years over a female who barely has control over her own powers.”

Amber eyes darted to Elain, as he watched her flinch back, hiding behind the eldest Archeron sister, “What prophecy have you seen now?” the sarcasm very evident in his tone, “Have you seen what (Y/N) has seen? Have you seen the resurrection of Kosechi, as well? Your powers are nothing compared to (Y/N)’s.”

“How dare you talk to someone in my Court like — -” Rhysand started.

“You have no right to challenge me in my own Court, Rhysand!” Helion bellowed, hands slamming on the table, standing up as he glared at his once-called friend, “Do you realize what you have done?! Do you realize why there hasn’t been a Seer in millennials? Why (Y/N) has been the only recorded Seer in the history of Pyrthian? Because Seers have been hunted — by Fae, humans and Gods alike. They are so sought after, for their power, for the knowledge, for their sight. Seers have the power to uncover what is hidden, lurking in the darkness. They are the very light that unveils the darkness. They have been hunted to be exterminated for that very power…”

It had been the very reason why Helion had taken you in when you were a child, guarded carefully in the Day Court. To ensure the prosper of your power, the prosper of your light.

Amber eyes darted around the table, eyes staring at the High Lords that had situated themselves in this very room, listening to his tale before they stared back at Rhysand, “You, being the powerfullest High Lord if all of Pyrthian should have known that. And now, her body, one filled with Unknown-God-and Cauldron bound powers is missing…”

A huff escaped his lips in exasperation as he sat down back into his seat, “Her body should be buried here, in my Court, where she rightfully belongs to. But, no. And none of us could properly pray respects for the loss of her light…”

It was no secret that Helion had a soft spot for you. You were like his child, raising you since you were small, watching you grow and become a bright light within the Day Court. He knew how your light felt, how he basked in it as if it was the sun that radiated overhead.

And so when he had woken up that night in cold sweat, feeling the vanishing of your light — he knew something had gone terribly wrong.

“… — Helion…” Feyre tentatively called out to him, “You said her body is Cauldron bound? What do you mean by that?”

The Day High Lord glanced at the High Lady, staring her down before he nodded his head once. Leaning forward to rest his chin on his hand, “That’s what both myself and (Y/N) believe. (Y/N) is one the strongest Seers I have met in my life, those few Seers that I have encountered, ones that have wanted to remain hidden, are no match to (Y/N)’s powers. Your little Cauldon-Made Seer is no match for her either,” he sneered at the middle Archeron sister.

"There has been little records of Seers in Prythian, we all know that. Not even my libraries had enough information about them and their powers. But, despite that, (Y/N) was able to hone into her powers with little instructions… You know that she doesn’t just see the future, she was able to see what was happening now. She was able to focus on parts of Pyrthian and tell me what is and what will happen.

“But during the war with Hybern, much like when Nesta felt the Cauldron, (Y/N) felt it too. We didn’t know why, but we realized she and the Cauldron were somewhat connected. Whether it be the Cauldron was reason why she has her visions or if the Cauldron was the source of her power, they were bound. A natural connection between the two of them. And when the Cauldron broke, (Y/N) had told me she felt the Cauldron’s power sought refuge with her, as if the Cauldron sought her light.

“After the war, she had asked for my opinion — she felt the remnants of the Cauldron’s power tingling through her. She told me she saw more visions, visions of the far off future that she had no idea when would happen, and that her powers were starting to become out of her control. She was starting to lose herself in her powers, lose her mind to it… I didn’t know how to help her…”

The Inner Circle remembered, weeks after the end of the war, (Y/N) had asked if she could return to Day Court for a few weeks. Rhysand had let her, thinking it was not important. Azriel, too, didn’t question on her reason why she wanted to leave.

It was when they started to not care. When they started to focus their attention to Elain — the Seer that had defeated the King of Hybern.

Helion let out a broken laugh, staring at the Inner Circle, “I’m sure you never knew, did you? On how broken she started to be after the war. You never knew how her sleep was plagued with visions, that she couldn’t even close her eyes without images flashing behind them. Of how she sobbed in bed, wondering if she was in a dream or reality. She couldn’t differentiate anymore… And you…” eyes focusing on Azriel, “You never felt her pain because you put up a wall between your mating bond. Did you know, Azriel…”

The Day High Lord’s tone was seething, remembering those day.

“Did you know, how she cried for you? She begged down the bond for you to come and help. Wanting your protection, wanting to help sooth the pain she had felt? Wanting you just to be there? But all she could feel was the wall you placed, ignoring her… abandoning her when she needed all of you the most…

“I sent her back, hoping that all of you would help. I sent her back with sleeping tonics, hoping to help her with her sleep. Hoping that her family and mate would help her through her toughest time. Hoping that you all would see her. But I can see that never happened. That no matter how much she begged for you all to listen to her visions, to see her in pain, you ignored,” his voice was laced with anger, disappointment.

No one said a word. The air in the room tense and dense at the revelation that Helion lamented. No one knew of what you had gone through.

Azriel felt his his heart burn in his chest, as if his siphons were burning his skin — he felt the remnants of the broken mating bond in his chest, aching more at Helion’s words.

He didn’t know, he didn’t see, he didn’t feel the pain you were going through. He had ignored the tug of the bond when he had that wall up. He had been too infatuated with the middle Archeron sister, wanting her to feel belonged in their Court — all the while alienating the person who had been with him through thick and thin.

And, yet, he couldn’t do the same for you.

Bright blue eyes closed as Feyre silently mourned and apologized to the Heavens, to the night sky where you might have been.

But she realized on the implications of what had Helion had told them — that you might have been the Cauldron-bound object that Koschei needed to escape that lake.

She looked up at Rhysand, and he to her as they communicated down the bond. Both of them realizing what could happen.

The gesture wasn’t missed by Helion as he watched them, waiting for them to explain what they might have discovered. However, when they did not say anything, a growl escaped his chest.

“What is it?”

Feyre and Rhysand looked at the Day High Lord, hesitance shown in their features, “… It’s about what (Y/N) had told us. You all saw it in that memory…”

Helion thought, playing the memory back as he watched remembered your face, the anguish of your features shining through his head, listening to your words — your vision of what might pass.

“… That Koschei needed something from the Cauldron to be released from the lake,” Lucien pointed out from his spot next to Helion, the russete eye looking at Elain before back to Feyre.

“What if…” Tarquin mumbled, “…Koschei found (Y/N)’s body? If you and (Y/N) knew of the connection to the Cauldron, that the Cauldron sought her power. He could use her body to be freed from that lake.”

Helion looked at the Summer High Lord, amber eyes wide at the realization, “… If that were to come to pass, we would be doomed. (Y/N)’s body is probably soaked in Cauldron powers. It would be so easy for Koschei to be freed, and no one would ever notice. It is not impossible, but since (Y/N)’s body has disappeared, it is possible for her to have fallen into his clutches.”

Kallias, in the mist of the conversation, was watching, observing, the only remaining Seer in the room. He leaned forward, bright blue hues staring the Made-Fae, as he rested both arms on the table, “Have you had any visions?”

Heads turned towards the High Lord of Winter at his question. It did not phase him, as he continued, ”I heard from your High Lady that you rarely said anything about your visions, since the Cauldron broke. So do tell us, what have you seen about the Death-God?” If she had her powers still, a Seer would be still useful in this situation.

Elain visibly swallowed, as all attention was on her once more. Brown eyes frantically glanced around the table, over to her sisters and then to Azriel who both looked at her expectedly.

A heartbeat later, and the Middle Archeron sister knew that she couldn't lie.

She shook her head, “I have not seen anything… since the Cauldron broke…” her words nothing but a whisper in the wind.

It was as if a pin dropped on marble floors, the silence in the room was penetrating.

A laugh broke the silence. Eris’ shook his in disbelief on the drama they were hearing, “So you’re telling us, you have been lying about having your powers. And that (Y/N), who has actually seen those visions had taken her life?” he glared at the middle Archeron sister, “For what? Because you needed a position in the Night Court? So that you can gain the Spymaster’s affection? To bed him?”

Elain shook her head again, brown eyes desperate as she tried to catch eye with her family, with Nesta, who just looked away, brows furrowed with anguish, “… I just wanted to be useful…” she whispered in fear, slumping down in her chair, “My powers… were the only thing that made me feel like I belonged… But I didn’t have them, and… I just, didn’t want to lose my family.”

“And yet, you were willing to let (Y/N) lose her family, her mate… and her life. Just to keep your own,” Thesan expressed, "That selfishness will be the downfall of Pyrthian."

Elain flinched at the truth thrown onto her face, eyes down-casting, silence taking over her form.

Before anyone could reprimand Elain for her actions, the grand doors slammed open, a dark mist blowing throughout the room. Frightened and confused screams echoed through the room.

Helion stood up, using his power of light to dissipate the darkness that tried to cover the room. Amber eyes glowed as he watched as a cloaked figure float into the room.

Eyes watched the cloaked figure as it settled its form onto the floor, bare pale feet touching the marble.

“… I would think… that if the Pyrthian High Lords would gather… they would invite a God to their meeting. But I guess, manners do not exist in this world…” the voice was grating and brittle.

The hood swept, as if eyes inside were looking at all the High Lords that were now standing up, all attention to him.

A eerie chuckle escaped the hooded figure, spiny fingers grasping the edge before slipping it down. White hair and black eyes were revealed, pale, sickly skin glowed underneath the darkness that had surrounded him.

The figure bowed, a mocking gesture to the High Lords.

“It seems, that you are unaware of who you are being greeted by…” a boney finger raised up and pointed towards Nesta, the eldest sister stiffening, “Though I’m quite sure you do, dearest sister…” he grinned at her.

Nesta gulped and looked at the uninvited guest. She knew who would greet her like that — only the Death Caver has echoed the same words, “You’re Koschei… aren’t you…”

Koschei grinned wider, head tilting to the side as he stepped forward, laughing as the High Lords ready themselves for a battle with the Death-God.

“Oh don’t be so tense, my High Lords…” he mockingly commented, sweeping a hand, “Please sit… Do not stop your meeting for dear little old me. Though it is such an honor for you to do so.”

He rounded the table, eyes making contact with each of the High Lord, black eyes sweeping over their forms before he stopped before Rhysand.

Violet hues and black sockets stared at each other.

“Though I do have to thank you, High Lord of the Night… You have gifted me the precious gift of life. Though, it was through the loss of one of your own… You might have known her. Cared for her… Loved her…” Koschei looked at Azriel whose hazel eyes burned at the Death-God.

He let out a low laugh.

Tarquin’s assumption was right — the Death-God had used your body to free himself from the lake, right underneath their noses. No one felt it, no one knew. And it had been too late to do anything about it; months too late to prevent the resurrection, months too late to find your missing body, months too late of not listening to you.

Koschei looked behind him, far past the grand windows, the familiar cry of the bird of fire and ash echoing through the lands of Day Court, heading towards them — Vassa had come to stop the sorcerer-lord from his destruction.

However, before she landed on the balcony, an arrow, made of shadow and darkness struck her, causing the great bird to plummet to the land beneath her.

Lucien gasped and ran towards the balcony, peering down to see if the mortal queen had survived the fall; but there was no sign of the cursed queen anywhere below.

“What a dramatic entry by Vassa, as always…” Koschei said with a sigh, before another chuckle escaped his lips, dark eyes boring into the empty spot beside him, “Don’t you think… (Y/N)?”

All heads snapped towards the Deathless God, your name slipping from his lips, as they watched a swirl of darkness materialized a familiar figure. Azriel watched, hazel eyes wide as he took in your form, whisps of shadows that had whirled around you — his shadows, one that had abandoned him ever since your death.

“…(Y/N)…” Azriel whispered in disbelief, his voice shaking.

There you stood, next to the Death-God, very much alive.

Very much like a Death-God yourself.

And it echoed in your outfit — tendrils of shadow made up your dress, covering you from head to toe, fluttering near your feet as if a gown swayed by the wind. In your hands, a bow and arrow made of those shadows — the very bow that had struck Vassa down from her flight.

That was where Azriel’s shadows had gone to — leaving him, following you to your death, and making you someone completely different.

Someone that was going to be the downfall of Pyrthian itself.

Tagging: @cleverzonkwombatsludge, @setayeshmohseni, @kindasleepycryptid, @f4iry-bell, @woodland-mist, @kalulakunundrum, @topaz125, @thelov3lybookworm, @hnyclover, @harrystylesfan2686, @anuttellaa, @ithan-holstroms-girl, @judig92, @venuseuripedis, @fairywriter-oracle, @thehighlordishere, @acourtofbatboydreams, @willowpains, @historygreekqueen, @dr4g0ngirl, @ayme301, @kemillyfreitas, @crazylokonugget, @abysshaven, @michaelharrypotter, @naturakaashi, @kittenbi, @namelesssav, @guiltyreader, @awkardnerd, @je-suis-prest-rachel, @quackitysdrugdealer, @thesunloveschips, @brieflyclassymortal, @justdreamstars, @isa1b2h3, @himesuedi, @fxckmiup, @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @t0uch-starved-h0e, @mybestfriendmademe

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #acotar angst #acotar x reader #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #( .one shot : pushed to the edge )#acotar fanfic #azriel angst #helion acotar #eris vanserra #rhysand #feyre archeron

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pixiesfz · 4 months

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invaded l.wm

plot: y/n moved from man city to Arsenal and one specific man is not happy about it.

warnings: violence, talks of a stalker, more of a arsenal x reader than a lotte x reader, blood etc

He was one of the main reasons you left Manchester city, his eyes that lingered on you when in the crowd.

When you first met him he seemed like a normal fan. He asked for a photo and challenged you to a rock paper scissors to secure your top, you noticed his anger when he lost but you gave him your jersey anyways to soften the blow.

He came to every game and yearned for your attention everytime, whenever you didn’t he would then wait outside in the parking lot.

At first you thought it was cute, you had never had such a big fan well that was until he started showing up outside of the field.

You were having a coffee with your mum when you heard the clicks of a camera, turning around you saw him, with his Man City scarf on taking photos of you and your mum.

You politely waved at him and he smiled. When he next showed up it was in the off season as you went to see your girlfriend Lotte.

“You alright love?” Lotte asked as you spotted him behind a tree, how did he know you were here “Lotte we need to go” you ordered as your heart sped up, he scared you “y/n-“ “now” you cut Lotte off as you grabbed her hand and ran to your car trying to ignore his pleas as he followed you.

He stopped for a month after that but maybe it was because you stopped going out as much, he was still at every man city game and still waited for you in the parking lot where you politely smiled and waved at the crowd but he took it as you were only waving at him.

Lotte had told you to try and get a restraining order but their had never been enough evidence to even try.

One day before you announced your transfer to Arsenal you saw him again but at your front door. You slammed the door before he could try and get in but it didn’t stop him.

He bashed his fists on the door “You’re leaving me!” He yelled “your betraying me like this?” He asked.

You pushed your weight on the door, tears falling down your eyes as you pulled out your phone to call Lotte.

“Hey y/n” she answered sweetly as you sniffed “he’s here” you whispered out “he’s where y/n?” Lotte asked and you could tell her by her voice that her heart had dropped.

“My house Lotte. He’s found my house!”

“I’m calling the police, can I hang up darling just for a little bit I will call right back” she told you and you closed your eyes “I love you” you whispered in fear

“Don’t talk like that y/n” he is not going to hurt you” she said and you shook your head “I’m scared” you admitted as his fists became louder

“You bitch! I saw you at the Arsenal training grounds, you’re leaving!” He shouted and Lotte’s face turned white from the loudness of his voice “y/n I’m going to call I’ll be back”

The beep of the phone call ending made you sob again, without Lotte’s voice calming you down you were in a forensic mess.

His voice was drowned out by your thoughts and you heard sirens wailing from nearby, he did too as his fists stopped.

“You’ll regret this” he finally stated before you heard him ruffling away.

You never felt safe fully after that whilst you played your last weeks at Man City, you scanned the crowds in fear and always walked to your car quickly after a match, sometimes having Lotte pick you up.

When your news about transferring came out rumours started to spiral, until an anonymous writer came out.

Y/n y/l/n moving to Arsenal because of stalker?!

You pressed on it right away as you laid on Lotte’s chest, photos of you on walks and at cafes, one of you in your home which you moved out of as quickly as you could.

He had took these photos and now he was sending them in to make profit, your privacy for his benefit.

‘We hope y/n is well before her move to Arsenal’ it ended with and you felt yourself snuggling to Lotte even more.

You had been with Arsenal for almost a month now and it was time you versed your old team. It was bittersweet.

You loved the girls on the team and they were now your on field enemies. Lotte was the captain of the game and you were proud of her.

But nothing could stop the weird feeling in your stomach, it made you nervous and your mind was racing.

You thought it would go away as you play but the feeling was still there.

You had subbed on for Beth for a fresh pair of legs on the field on the 64th minute and it wasn’t long before you started making an impact, high giving your girlfriend as you scored a goal agains Man City.

You hadn’t even checked for the man in the crowd as you now sported the red, you should’ve maybe you would’ve seen him and the state he was in.

His eyes were baggy and it was clear to anyone around him that he would be drinking but security weren’t the best for the women’s games so they gave no mind.

It was about the 75th minute he jumped the barrier, a beer bottle in his hand, he wore your old jersey you had given to him as he stormed over to you.

You had your back to him so you couldn’t see him but some of your team mates did and the audience as they boo’d at him in the crowds, thinking he was a trouble maker wanting his 5 seconds of fame.

You looked behind you out of curiousity before you locked eyes with the man, your heart dropped before he raised his arm which the glass bottle was held in and smashed it on your head.

You dropped instantly as he yelled “traitor!” And kicked you at the head.

You had been near the sidelines so the low number of security members latched onto him as he yelled out to you but you were unconscious, on the floor with blood pouring down your face.

Almost the whole field and Audience went quiet and the TV channels who were broadcasting were lost for words.

Medics were on you quick as Lotte tan over with tears in her eyes. She looked at you and towards the man who was tackled to the floor “that’s him!” She yelled and told the security to take him to the jail.

The blood on your face wasn’t going away as more blood from your forehead and your eye fell down.

“Lotte” you choked out and sue dropped to her knees and grabbed your hand “I’m here, I’m here” she told you and kissed your knuckles “I’m scared” you cried as the medics came back with the stretcher “he’s gone now” Lotte told you, tears running down her eyes at the sight of you.

The medics pulled you up and the whole stadium was silent, the Arsenal and City girls watching you with tears in their eyes.

The game stopped.

Lotte followed you to an ambulance and most girls quickly got into their cars to follow you, not bothering to change.

You only needed a few stitches but Lotte demanded for a plastic surgery, saying you would never forgive her if she let you have a big scar from your eye to your temple.

So she waited with her head in her arms, her bright yellow captains arm band tightening around her bicep as she was joined by both the arsenal and Man city team in the waiting room.

“She’s going to be fine” Leah told her England team mate and she nodded “I know it’s just she- she was so scared” Lotte sobbed as she leaned into her team mates embrace and cried.

Both of the teams waited for you to come out of surgery, on their phones as some read articles or watches the film clip multiple times in shock of what had happened.

Lotte saw it every time she closed her eyes, the way you had no idea of the danger running towards you, the way he moved so quick nobody could stop him before the action was done.

The TV was on in the corner as the news talked about what had happened to you. Lotte watched as the reporter talked about the lack of security and how they interviews some of the games watchers, some crying.

Two hours later a doctor came into the room, shocked to see so many players waiting to see your results.

“Y/n y/l/n?” She questioned and everyone’s head shot up “yes?” Lotte stood up and the nurse nodded “she’s awake now but I think it’s best if we send people in groups” she said and Lotte let out a sigh of relief.

“You go first” Alanna said from her seat in the corner to Lotte and she nodded and walked behind the Nurse who took her to your room.

Your stitches looked oily from the numbing cream that they had lathered on top of the stitches. You don’t say anything, your eyes stuck to the ceiling.

“Why me?” You breathed out and Lotte grabbed your hand

“I don’t know baby” she replied and you looked at her, your eyes were blood shot “did they get him?” You asked and she nodded “he is behind bars and the court is allowing us to ask for a restraining order, he’s already not allowed to attend a soccer game ever again” she said and you nodded.

“Do I look as bad as I feel?” You asked and Lotte let out a little laugh “Do you really think I care about what you look like?”

“No but I care what I look like” you smiled and Lotte kissed your hand “you look beautiful, just like you always do”

You smiled “is it just you here?” You asked and Lotte scoffed “uhm actually” she started and went to the window and opened the blind which revealed the waiting room.

“Oh wow” you breathed out seeing both of your teams sitting down in the uncomfortable chairs.

“Maybe send in my national team mates, they’re most likely to tell me if I look ugly or not” you joked and your girlfriend rolled her eyes playfully at your comment.

“Actually almost all your national team mates are here” she breathed out before walking out to collect them.

When half of the Matilda’s team walked in Caitlin scoffed

“You just had to one up me from the World Cup didnt ya”

The whole room laughed at her before she laid on the bed and cuddled into your side.

“Well this will be a fun story to tell in a couple of years” you joked and your team mates laughed.

You smiled as you looked around, Lotte chating to your team mates with a smile as you cuddled into some of your younger players “I was so worried” Kyra told you and you shook your head.

“Takes a lot to take me down chicken”

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lights-in-the-distance · 5 months

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the hbomberguy video was really good, i was a fan of james somerton for quite a while and supported him on patreon (up until last month) so i do feel pretty betrayed, i hadn't really watched his content in a while because i was finding it increasingly cynical and boring, but i had really loved his videos and they helped get me into queer theory and film theory in general. it's really a shame to find out they were largely plagiarized, but at least now i know that there's plenty of authors out there writing original work on queer studies and i can check out their work instead. i really appreciate all the work hbomber did on his video.

it looks like somerton disabled comments on youtube community posts and made a post a few hours ago titled "Raised Concerns" on his patreon, only available to paying patreon members though because jesus fucking christ. i'll try to find someway around it, i'm not giving him any more money. he has a discord server too, it's pretty calm, just people being disappointed basically, not really excusing his actions. his co-writer nick runs the server and is trying to grapple with it. nick wasn't involved in any of the plagiarizing as far as we can tell. he hasn't watched the video yet.

anyway, don't harass anyone about this obviously, spread awareness but don't be a dick. probably no one will see this but i just needed to get my thoughts out.

#hbomberguy #james somerton

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hopelesslyromanticshark · 13 days

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omg r u still taking requests? If not, you can totally ignore this, I'm so sorry!

But if it's still open, could you maybe do like a Jason Grace x gf!reader with anger issues? Like Jason is super calm and reasonably optimistic as we know, so maybe him dealing with a surly/moody girlfriend who nobody else other than him can handle, would be quite interesting to read. Im SUCH a sucker for the sunshine bf! x grumpy gf! trope haha. The reader can have any godly parent.

✮⋆˙ little miss grumpy and little mister sunshine; jason grace x reader blurb

content: jason grace x reader blurb warning: language obvi author's note: i just wanna say that im pretty sure i saw this request or a super super similar go to like five other pjo writers. soooo im not stealing, just wanna clarify, and i went out of my way to not read those just in case i subconsciously copied them lmao any similarities are purely accidental! ANYWAYS just a little blurb for yall. hope ya enjoy!!!

"who the fuck does she think she's looking at, huh? i will fuck her up-"

"probably, and im just going out on a limb here, the art hung up on the walls?" jason offered, quick to cut off your angry rant before the poor girl could hear. you huffed out a breath at his logic, crossing your arms as you turned your darting eyes back to the canvas. jason rolled his eyes at her, but his smile betrayed any harsh feelings that matched her own.

"i don't like it," you muttered to the boy, who chuckled as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

"well, i think it's graceful-"

"funny," you smirked up jason and now it was his turn to sigh. he offered his hand to you, which you readily took into a tight hold, before leading you towards another part of the museum. your lips twitched upwards and jason beamed a smile at this, shooting forwards and pressing a warm kiss to your cheek. instantly, you were shoving off the boy, playfully, squinting a soft glare at him. much softer than you would anyone else.

"woah! cool! you think these still have blood on them?" you whispered to jason, nearly pressing your face to the glass as you looked in at ancient torture devices. jason tilted himself, adjusting his glasses as he muttered the information plaque out to you.

"hmmm, no. i'm sure they thoroughly clean them," shrugged jason in response, offering you a soft look and squeeze of your hand.

"bummer," you hummed, flipping some of your hair over your shoulder before pulling jason behind you as you got distracted by the gory weapons of death in the next room.

and jason was more than happy to spend his evening reading about beheadings and brutal dictators and horrid war conditions if it meant spending his evening with you.

though, he wasn't a huge fan of getting kicked out of the museum, having to carry you out as you continued to curse the security guard in ways that had jason blushing at their lewdness.

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #pjo #hoo #pjo fandom #heroes of olympus x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #jason grace #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #the heroes of olympus #heroes of olympus #jason grace x reader #the lost hero #pjo hoo toa #toa #jason grace fanfic

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hrhmimieucliffe · 2 months

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⚠️Another Rant Incoming⚠️

I hate how some people are so threatened by Margo in general. Sure, her and Miles had a like 10 second interaction (with mad chemistry), the writers said Margo thinks Miles is cute, and the script implies that Gwen was a little jealous which is why they specifically say she yanked Miles FROM her, but all of this isn't going to undo 2 movies worth of Miles and Gwen development and content, whether Miles feels like she betrayed him or not. He WILL eventually forgive her, and they'll go out, let's be real. Miguel's canon blah blah will be proven wrong or will be shown to not be entirely correct (which it already has been) and Gwen will realise it's cool for her the with him. They'll use their watches to be with each other.

Just constantly trying to figure out why people are so threatened by a 10 second interaction she had with Miles, lmfao. Him and Gwen are cute and always have been cute, and will get together.

And please don't give me the "YAll juST hAtE inTerACIaL RelaTiOnsHips" bs, because 1. First of all I am a Black woman and I love all kinds of men and admittedly I have had way more crushes on non black men than black men and would happily date a non black man, so no, I don't hate interaccial relationships, and 2. That's just an annoying reach.

Just tired of people acting like this in general when a fan even tries to imply that a character is even attracted to a black girl/woman, like.... what is peoples deal with that? Same way some of the non black people are trying to argue with black women about the fact that Hobie would most likely date a black woman first and foremost before any other woman, given the time he lives in??? Like... it doesn't even stop at characters, people act like this in real life when a man dares to show an attraction to us.

This is why we need more black women being loved in fictional media, because otherwise, we'll have people acting like this.

And I'm sorry, but I've gotta say it, yall would accept characters like Miguel being with a hologram or his MARRIED (with a daughter) friend, before you ship him with a Black woman, like....

Also I see ppl hating on Hailey and I don't like that either, stay away from her.

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echos-gal · 4 days

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ok i'm rapidly losing hope that Tech is still alive, and this sucks because it was basically the top thing i desperately wanted from this season. i wanted to see him survive. so here's my exhaustive and embarrassingly long list of reasons why he SHOULD still be alive, and if he isn't, why it was a missed opportunity. obviously no hate to the writers or anything, i love them dearly for creating this show!!!

(if you're a "Tech should stay dead for the stakes/so someone in SW stays dead for once/i hate delusional Tech stans" person, kindly keep scrolling, this ain't for you)

SEASON 2:

right from the start, Romar connects with Tech and calls himself "a survivor." HELLO???

in this same arc, Tech breaks his leg in a fall which he survives. he continues to walk on it, fighting off troopers to save Echo & Omega, showcasing his persistence and grit.

one of Phee's first lines is "better late than dead," and we know she shares a connection with Tech. she flirts with him later in this scene. it would be a shame not to reuse this line, i'm just saying....

Cid still owes Tech for racing for her in Faster. we see Cid looking miserable as she betrays the batch in Plan 99, so her playing a part in his rescue/comeback would be a nice way to show her growth. (i'm afraid there isn't enough time for this, though- as much as i thought a Cid redemption was on the horizon!)

Phee and Tech's departure is awkward, and although we have some context from season 3 (they talked more than we realized), the scene would do best if reconciled in person imo. it felt like it was setting up for something, and feels weird to leave hanging.

"don't go running off with any pirates or smugglers" could not have just been a throw away line. it set up for him to do exactly that. how fitting would it be if pirates or smugglers actually did manage to pick him up before the empire made it to the railcar crash site?

Hemlock's retrieval of the goggles shows that he sent a team to look through the wreckage. he thought there was a chance Tech survived, and may have him.

i won't go into the logistics, but big falls ARE survivable. in star wars especially. we have no idea what was below the layer of clouds/mist Tech fell through.

SEASON 3:

this is mostly CX-2 centric. their armor is very similar: the jaw/mouth shape, the hexagons over the ears, the rectangles on the chest, and the pouches/pockets.

"domicile." that is all.

CX-2 uses technology more than the other operatives we've seen, and he gets past the encryption on Phee's ship with ease.

"who are you?" was enunciated in the exact same way Tech says it to Trace and Rafa, which i definitely think was intentional.

CX-2 stops to use his rifle scope in the exact same spot where Tech and Phee stood to let down the ladders in the sea surge on Pabu.

he survives a waterfall plunge on Teth, which appears to have fooled Rex's group into thinking he'd died. the writers could have killed him off there and sent a new operative, but they chose to stick with CX-2 pursuing them to Pabu.

it's worth noting that while this CX is designated as "2," Tech's CT number is CT-9902. he is associated with the number even on a visual level: he's a dual-wielder, he wears goggles, he salutes with two fingers.

FROM A STORY PERSPECTIVE:

firstly, i am sorry and i LOVE the writers, but if you want people to accept a character's death, you've got to show his family and friends' grief. we saw no reaction from Crosshair or Phee, no tears from Hunter or Echo. it feels like fans were sadder about Tech's death than the characters in the story.

Tech seems to have been mentioned more in the second half of season 3 than the first half, which works if they want to bring him back in the finale.

the finale is called "The Cavalry Has Arrived." i really don't think you can have the cavalry (aka the bad batch) arrive without every member present. i also don't think it would feel right to play their theme without Tech there. idk, that feels incomplete!

we saw no body, and Hunter received Tech's goggles not from a trusted ally or friend, but from Hemlock. this calls into question the legitimacy of his claim that the goggles were "all he could salvage."

Tech alive and being held on Tantiss would provide a nice parallel to Echo in the first mission where we meet the batch, in TCW. and [ep 14 SPOILERS] we see that Echo is currently looking more like his TCW self, with his earpiece removed.

feels kinda sour that a character who a lot of people related to as neurodivergent representation would die just a few episodes after having a deep conversation with his sister about it.

likewise (and as a white woman i can't speak for WOC), from what i have seen, Black women are rarely the main love interest of a series! Phee is the ONLY love interest in this whole show, and it would suck to just cut off that romance before it could really become something. a lot of people wanted to see TechPhee become canon.

CX-2 is the one who destroys the marauder. it works well storywise for its pilot to have been the one to do that- the person who worked so hard modifying it, flying it, and teaching his sister to fly it. i'll be lowkey pissed if it turns out some random dude blew it up.

it's also CX-2 who invades and sets fire to Pabu. this is emotionally gripping on its own, but if he is Tech, it's even more so.

we have no idea what the operatives go through. Crosshair isn't telling, but it clearly put him in a really bad place. if Tech underwent this conditioning in his post-fall injured state, there's a chance he could come back from it. Emerie is probably the key to this, if they take the CX-2 route.

this show is all about a family trying to stay together as the Empire desperately tries to rip them apart. seeing the whole family together again - even if not everyone survives - in the finale is the satisfaction that the show ideally would go for. the last time they were all together was the season 1 finale. that was about 2 years ago in the show's timeline.

leaving Crosshair and Tech's final interactions be where they parted on the Kamino platform also feels off. Tech was the one who really vocalized the need to rescue Crosshair in season 2's finale. Crosshair, in the meantime, has changed significantly as a person. Tech's comment about Crosshair being "severe and unyielding," and unable to change this facet of his nature, is incorrect. leaving Tech dead would mean that he never gets to see this change in Crosshair, which makes me feel like a deflated balloon.

FROM MY SELFISH PERSPECTIVE!!!

give me Tech with cool scars and slightly disheveled longer hair. this is such a good opportunity for the creators to give him a sweet new look!

we never got to see Tech without his goggles on, despite Phee constantly referring to his eyes. he definitely doesn't have them right now (they're in the Archium), so we could get Mister Big Brown Eyes if he's alive. it's another missed opportunity if not, imo!

the goggles being placed in the Archium was a beautiful scene that makes me tear up whenever i think about it. it's symbolic, it's bittersweet, and it's exactly where the goggles belong. but was it closure for me? not really.

Tech is a character who became a LOT of people's favorite in season 2, including my own. why kill off a fan-favorite with an entire season to go?

yes, i desperately want a Rex and Echo series. yes, i want the batch to cameo in it, and yes... that includes Tech. making up for lost season 3 Tech content 😎

the finale will feature the zillo beast, and Tech loves the zillo beast. FREE HER! REUNITE THEM! he would love to witness her rampage.

FROM A "SURPRISE!!!!!" PERSPECTIVE

it seems like most people think Tech is either CX-2 or dead. it would be a great finale twist if we DID get CX-2's identity, it's NOT Tech, the audience loses hope, and then he shows up. i think this is actually plausible given the other assassin schematics Hemlock was looking at in Point of No Return. Tech might be in Hemlock's grasp, but not an active operative. having an enhanced clone to toy with is something Hemlock would want to keep under wraps. we see him step out of the assassin chamber at the start of that episode - if Tech is anywhere on Tantiss, i think it's here.

i think the writers have expected us to have all lost hope by now, so his finale reappearance would ideally come as a shock. the finale is almost guaranteed to be a very long episode, so we really might have quite a bit of time to explore his return, if it happens.

secret 16th episode: i know, i'm putting my clown makeup on as i type this. but the previous 2 seasons each had 16 episodes, with a two-parter finale. season 3 is just 15, with a single episode finale. TBB formally ends may 1st, so what if we get a may 4th surprise episode detailing how Tech survived? (that or an epilogue leading into a new series, which i think is more likely actually!)

#i definitely forgot some points but i just need to post this and be done with it #feel free to add your own observations 👀#tbb tech #the bad batch #tech lives #techphee #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers

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most-datable-datable-bracket · 2 days

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QUARTER-FINALS MATCH 2

Elliott propaganda:

“Just look at him. Pure hunk energy.”

“I will punch anyone who dislikes him. He’s like a fire emblem character in the modern day. He’s so flamboyant and handsome, he can play the piano and he’s best friends with the old fishing man!”

“dramatic writer man with sexy hair”

"Since I like elliott. I will state some reasons why I like him

Imagine if Mr. Darcy didn’t insult your family first time you met him, that’s Elliott. The man who’s basically the hallmark romance love interest. He’s a writer who moves to the small town in the country side to find inspiration for his writing. Then he finds the farmer.

He has a crab living in his pocket

He can play the piano (hopefully it isn’t the river flows in you however)

His fans sometimes hc him as a merman and that’s just a major plus IMO

He genre of the book he writes is dependent on what genre you say you like.

He also sends letters to you if you marry him

Okay and also some things I dislike

His liked gifts, the easiest one is pomegranates, which cost like 6000g to grow a tree if you don’t pick the fruit cave. I AM NOT GETTING SQUID INK IN YEAR ONE FOR YOU.

he might be British /j

The fact he has no kitchen but still likes food like lobster, like he is just a mystery. Lives in a cabin, with no kitchen, no washroom (okay no character has a washroom), but still likes the most fancy food out there and has luscious hair worthy of a L’Oréal ad.

Gifting him on rainy days when you don’t have two hearts"

Asra propaganda:

“He GIVES AWAY HALF HIS HEART TO REVIVE YOU okay but like. He's the MCs roommate and they were together for a few years before the MC caught a plague and died and he obsesses over a way to bring them back before succeeding by making a deal with a god to trade half his heart for MC and betraying the emperor. And then when MC comes back but without any of their memories, he takes care of them and teaches them how to live all over again and he never asks for anything in return. On all the routes where you don't choose him he's really supportive and helps you out despite your history and overall he's just really nice and supportive of the MC and is their rock no matter what route you go down. Also he has a pet snake named Faust and I love her she's so <33

Idk I just appreciate him so much”

"He gave you half his HEART!! He would literally go to hell and back for you!! He wants to take you on adventures all around the world—doesn’t matter where, as long as he’s by your side!! AND he’s nonbinary!!!"

"He is so caring!! Anyone who says he is boring or his 'route' was boring is a LIAR or didn't really understand his character! He is such a sweet person

Asra propaganda on this poll doesn't even do him any justice!! He makes friends wherever he travels to , likes knitting for his familiar snake , is a sweetheart, WILL take care of you even in the lowest point of your life"

#sdv elliott #elliott stardew valley #Stardew Valley #asra alnazar #The Arcana #The Arcana Game #Quarter-Finals #MDDC 2

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arcielee · 1 year

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The Past and the Pending

Summary: Aemond will find you and bring you the fuck back to Westeros. Paring: Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader Word Count: 3790 Warnings: Smutty smut, possessive Aemond (you know you love it, I do too, no judgement) dubcon, oral (female receiving), fingering, p in v, all the goodies. Author's Note: We are coming to the end of this depravity and there is one last part after this. I cannot express enough thanks to @f4ll-for-you for all of her help! I literally posted, “Hey, this is my first ever Reader Insert attempt, does anyone wanna read it?” And she was the only one willing and the friendship that has blossomed has absolutely changed me for the better as a writer. Thank you from the bottom of my heart ♥ lēkia - brother Tags (kindred spirits): @glitterandgoldfinds @narwhal-swimmingintheocean @fan-goddess @welcometothelioncage @hueanhdang @sahvlren @heavenly1927 @missusnora @lemonivall (I have never had a taglist before, but if you are bold it is because Tumblr has betrayed me and it will not allow me to tag you, I’m so sorry) Series: Call It Dreaming

Prince Aemond Targaryen was a quiet force that would sweep through the Red Keep, his dark presence engulfing every room he entered into. His temperament would be described as obsessional, almost consuming, whenever his meticulous mind was set on something or someone. His traits and his drive would have been admirable in a firstborn son, but instead he learned early on his fate was predetermined, understanding that his title would forever be superseded by the fact he was only a second son.

On the night he returned from Storm’s End, he came to realize that his power dynamic had shifted. Aemond was ushered away into the small council chamber, not even able to change from his clothes that hung heavy from the rain. He saw the change in the expressions around the table, the disappointment in both his grandsire and mother’s expressions, but Aegon did not share their concerns and found optimism within his err, boldly stating how his brother had, “the true blood of the dragon.”

Aemond was grateful his brother stood at his side with the new alias Kinslayer tacking onto his legacy and, in return, he devoted himself to serve his king, no matter the personal opinion on his drunken addled reign.

He was a formidable ally to Aegon, quick to push his grandsire and his self-serving counsel aside, while suggesting for Daeron to return to the Red Keep at once, which would allow Tessarion to be added on the battlefront.

Aemond then turned his focus to the retaliation he knew would come from his sister, pouring over tomes and books to scrutinize battles past and best predict the impending. It did not prepare for the attempt made, but the gods showed favor as Daeron happened to be visiting with his mother when two brutes slipped into her quarters by one of the many ingresses that lined the castle walls. The prince’s yells were quick to bring the attention of Ser Criston Cole and together they were able to subdue the would-be assassins.

The two men with the monikers Blood and Cheese were beaten until they were unrecognizable, until the needed confession spilled from their broken teeth and bloody lips: that they had been sent by Daemon.

An eye for an eye, a son for a son.

The outrage for the attempt on the little Targaryen princes allowed the uproar needed amongst the seven realms to capture and bring Rhaenyra and their uncle to trial. They were convicted and their execution was a show for the smallfolk, thus ceasing any more murmurs of who Viserys had wished to be his heir.

This led to present day, with the seven realms now under the unquestionable rule of his brother, King Aegon II, who proved to be an insipid drunk with access to the royal funds, which was used to throw extravagant revelries that allowed him to wag his cock at every woman within Westeros.

Yes, he was the king and he was kin, but Aegon was still insufferable.

His brother’s incessant celebrations left Aemond numb to their victory, with an emptiness that replaced the consuming vengeance he had felt since that fateful night on Driftmark. He always assumed when it had been rightfully served, that a sense of peace would take over but instead he found a gnawing want for something more.

“You need a woman, lēkia,” Aegon had told him with a giggle.

In that regard, Aemond had an insatiable appetite but only once it had been awakened. The last woman he took to bed was when they first claimed Harrenhal and slaughtered every Strong within, save for a bastard who served as a wetnurse.

Their chemistry was explosive, burning bold and passionate until the inevitable end of the wick. Alys spoke often of her purpose, stating the gods have given her a new destiny to fulfill, whereas Aemond was respectful of the old gods and the new, but found he often preferred the process of coming to a conclusion with thorough research, as opposed to an unseen deity’s say-so.

When he told her this, she clucked her tongue and touched his cheek. “My prince, I know your destiny and you just need to find her.”

Instead, Aemond returned to the Red Keep and fell into the mundane routine of small council meetings, training with Ser Criston, and riding Vhagar. The only time he felt a sense of purpose was backside the massive she-dragon, allowing her freedom to soar over the seven realms and trusting the gentle pull of the reins and a word utterance would return them to King’s Landing.

To return to nothing.

He had always preferred seclusion, but it wore on him as of late. His sister was busy with the twins and her new babe, a young princeling named Maelor, while his mother was devoted to breathing down Aegon’s neck and upholding his royal reputation. Daeron found his purpose within the Citadel and was forging his chains and Ser Criston allowed time to train with him, but he was dedicated to the shadows cast by his mother and brother.

So when his day’s tasks were done, he would retreat to his room and allow himself to remove his eyepatch and the façade it held, choose a book from his growing collection and seat himself in front of the fire to read.

This was how you found him.

His agitation was apparent by the rush of color to his cheeks; he could not fathom how you managed to enter without him realizing. He watched as you made a soft noise of surprise, your backside was to him and he knew, from what you wore, that Aegon had picked some whore from the Streets of Silk and slipped her in.

His tone was sharp when he questioned what you were doing and he saw you jump. Aemond was in a sour mood and he knew he was projecting, but his temper flared and he glided across the room to take hold of you by the throat, though he was careful with his hold.

What he had not expected was the beauty that seemed to glow from you, your look so exquisite and unlike anything he had seen before within Westeros. The embarrassment of you seeing him so intimately tightened his expression and you returned his look with an unabashed regard that held no tremor of fear, but your eyes seemed to brim with a sort of adoration.

His gaze rolled over your shapely legs that peered below the hem of your queer clothing and the gnaw of lust began to form in the pit of his stomach. He watched with rapt attention when you removed that flimsy piece of clothing to show the small clothes that fit with your figure with the most delicious flattery to your curves.

His passion had been awakened; he had to taste you, he had to touch you.

His fingers trailed your skin, soft like silk to his touch, and your scent warm and subtle. Your body fit so well against him and the noises that spilled from your kiss swollen lips was a sound he always wished to hear. The moment he finally sheathed himself inside your wet warmth, you mewled so pitifully and he shuddered from how your cunt molded so perfectly around his cock. Aemond struggled to pace himself, but your tightness clutched so sinfully and he swore the world anew when he spilled inside you.

Aemond pulled you beneath the covers, unwilling to have you return from wherever his brother dragged you from. He loved curling against your soft backside and how you felt pressed against his chest; there was pleasure from watching you sleep, with the subtle rise and fall of your bare chest with your every breath, while cradling his arm between your breasts.

He regretted falling asleep, for when he awoke you were gone and all that remained was the queer clothing you had arrived in, your fragrance still lingering on the thin fabric.

Aemond went to find his brother and confront him about you, only to learn that Aegon had been bedridden since late the day prior with stomach pains. “You swear you have not left this bedchamber, lēkia,” he questioned.

“Speak softer,” Aegon moaned, dark circles that amplified the purple of his eyes. “I swear to you I did not leave my room for anything last night, save the bucket.”

But if she was not his, where did she come from?

He called for Ser Erryk and together they searched every brothel within the city, questioning every madam and giving the description of your beauty. There was no lead and they tried to entice him with what they had available, but Aemond did not want the touch of anyone but you and you alone.

You had become his new sense of purpose, consuming his every thought.

It was weeks before he saw you again; there was the familiar soft gasp falling from your lips and you were back, flesh and blood, in his bedchambers. His temper flared and you were coy with your reply. There was the question that had tormented him for weeks, “Where are you from?”

“I cannot say.”

He wished for an answer, but his body betrayed him and the ache he felt only began to subside once he grabbed onto you, feeling your soft flesh and enveloped in your warm aroma. He pulled you close, appreciative of the black, simple dress that complimented the curves of your body; your nipples peaked beneath the fabric and your body arched, the soft flesh of your ass pressing into his crotch.

You were intoxicating and he was mournful with his words, “I imagine you will leave me again.”

“I will need to,” you replied, your eyes doleful. “But I will stay as long as I am able to.”

As long as I am able to.

Your words remained with him, a soft echo in his mind as he returned to the monotonous tasks of his every day. They rolled away and one night, in the quiet of his bedchamber, he laid back and stared at his canopy above his bed. His gaze held nothing, but beneath his pillow he held a grip of his dagger, the fabric of your shirt touching his knuckles.

He ached for your touch, the clothing left behind had lost your smell, and he mourned that he did not hold onto you, refusing to allow you to return from wherever you had come from.

Aemond did not remember falling asleep, but he felt the shift at the edge of his bed and the realization he was not alone in his room. He had an automated response, only to fully awaken once he saw the hold he had around your neck and your wide eyes.

The passion remained the same and how perfect your body was against his own. A sense of ataraxia washed over him with you wrapped in his arms, a comforting calm until he felt your body tense every so slight. “What is it?” He was quick to ask, wanting to resolve whatever vexed you in this intimate moment.

You turned to face him, your eyes glassy and the tip of your nose red with your words, “I only wish I was able to stay longer with you.”

Morning came and his bed was empty again, but he now understood what must be done. He returned to Harrehal and sought out Alys. When he entered the throne room, he looked up at her and she wore a wicked smile on her painted lips, but her focus was on the mortar in her hand. “What do you seek, my prince?” She asked with the lilt of her Riverland accent.

“Who,” he replied, his gaze watchful as her hands continued the motion in front of her. There was a collection of mason jars, marble bowls brimming with herbs from all over Westeros, and the wispy smoke of sage hung heavy in the air.

Alys lifted her kohl smeared eyes, a twinkle to the blue that bore into him. “You finally found her,” her tone was playful, almost teasing. “You know that I need something of hers to locate.”

He handed over your vintage shirt.

“The White Duke,” she grinned. “Is this dear to her?”

“I hope so,” he answered.

She tsked and took just a shred of the fabric, dropping it onto the marble slate in front of her before sprinkling a powder on top. A flame sparked and it reflected in her eyes. “Fate is peculiar,” she began, her tone still teasing. “She is not of this world, my prince.”

Aemond remembered your reply, I cannot say, and he asks, “Am I able to get to her? Would I be able to bring her back here?” He swallowed. “She has visited me before.”

“Yes, I am aware,” Alys continues. “I can create an access that will allow you to retrieve your destiny, as well as a potion that you must give her so she can return with you, with whatever she carries.” Her eyes focused on him, her lips drawn into a thin line. “We cannot traipse back and forth this plane of existence, my prince. I can give you two days, but after that the portal will be closed so on one else can cross.”

She paused for a moment. “This, of course, will cost you, my prince.”

But no cost could compare to the opportunity to see you again. Aemond returned that evening and noticed a chalk symbol on the cobblestone. Alys handed him a small vial with a soft purple glow emanating from the glass. “This is what she must take to be able to cross over and stay within Wetseros,” she instructed. “Where you arrive will be the same way you must return.”

He nodded, his jaw clenched.

“I will close this portal in two days, whether you return or not,” she repeated and she gave him a kiss. “Good luck, my prince.”

Aemond Targaryen found himself in your room.

Where he stood was a soft, iridescent glow beneath where he stood and it faded away. A purple lucent light remained, casting from your bedside and allowing enough light for him to look around. It was apparent the space was intimately yours, an almost chaotic cleanliness and your fragrance touched everything. He noticed a velvet chair with clothes folded on top and to his right, by the door, were your shoes neatly lined up. Aemond bent over and removed his boots, placing them alongside.

He saw a shelf that stretched from the ceiling to the floor, littered with literature and small trinkets; on the wall were pieces of artwork that hung. His gaze then fell towards the bed where you were sleeping; you were wearing a thin, white tank top and the blanket was halfway down your hips, your lips slightly open with the soft breaths of your slumber.

There was the curl of his lips as Aemond took slow steps around your bedside, his eye taking in your relaxed form in the sheer top, and he reached to gently pull the quilt back further to show the black cotton underwear that hung on your hips. His hand reached out to you, his fingertips pressing into your soft skin and his touch elicited a sleepy moan from your lips, your nipples pebbling in response.

He felt the tightness in his trousers and he pulled back to remove his tunic before moving to climb into your bed, pressing closer, his nose trailing from your collarbone to the curve of your neck, his mouth opened slightly as he took in your smell.

You shift beneath him with a sigh, goosebumps spreading over the skin that shows, and he was quick to place his palm to cover your mouth; your eyes widen and it takes a moment to recognize it was Aemond Targaryen, bare chested and pressing up against you. He relaxes his grip and your hands move to touch his face, your fingers soft on his jawline, “Aemond-?” Your voice is a harsh whisper and he moves forward to take your mouth with his own.

You moan into the kiss as his tongue massages against your own, shifting himself to move on top of you and brace his elbows on each side of you, caging you in. You move to open your legs and cradle him against your hips, your hands tangling in his silver hair.

His lips move downwards, tracing your jawline to your neck and kissing your chest. He shifts his weight to one side, reaching to grab your neckline with one hand and pulling to allow your breast to spill. His hot mouth suckles and bites into your soft flesh and you moan louder, grinding your hips upwards for friction.

You see the curl of his lips as he reaches for your stretched neckline and tears it down the center. “Hey,” you push to your elbows, your voice low. “I would have taken it off if you just asked.”

“I do not ask for what is mine,” he replies and pushes you back into a bed with a kiss that removes the air from your lungs and all thoughts from your mind until all you can think is the sensation of his lips trailing lower, his kisses sprinkled over your chest, your breasts, your ribs and lower.

You lift your hips and peel off your underwear that is soaked with your anticipation; Aemond moves to your center with a greedy lick of your silky folds, the sensation sending shivers throughout and your clit blossoms in response. “Vok,” Perfect, he praises into your cunt and you shiver again with his Valyrian.

You feel his slender finger curl into you, a tentative touch to your velvety walls until you clench in response. He hums his satisfaction before adding a second finger for a come hither motion to massage that spot within you; you mewl pitifully and bring your hand to your mouth to smother your noise.

He pulls back to look at you and you are quick to whisper, “I have roommates,” he probably does not know what the fuck that is, “I live with others here, they have their own rooms… I-I don’t want them to hear me.”

“I do not fucking care,” he growls and he dips lower until his mouth is on your cunt. You gasp at the simultaneous ministrations of his mouth and his fingers within you; your thighs begin to shake and you nearly cry when he quickens his motion, the pleasure crashing over you and your cunt clenching desperately around his fingers as he coaxes you through your orgasm.

There is a wet squelch when he pulls his hand back and you weakly look, face flushed, as he brings his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean, his grin wicked. “As sweet as last night,” he says and he moves to unlace his trousers before returning to nestle in the cradle of your hips.

Your eyes are glazed and you sigh with the pressure of his chest to your own, his hard and warm and still somehow molds so perfectly against you; he moves his hips and you feel his cock pressing against your slick slit, tantalizing your swollen lips. “Aemond, please,” you beg, your nails biting into his toned shoulders.

He reaches his hand to line himself with your entrance, the gentle thrusts of his hips to fill you and you moan at the stretch of your walls as his cock sheaths into you. He begins to rock against you, hitting deeper within, and the soft pants of pleasure spill from your lips with his every thrust.

Aemond leans forward, his mouth finding yours with a gentle kiss that does not match to the powerful pace of his hips. “Wait,” you breathe and he pauses, his expression curious as you push him back and he follows you lead to lay back onto your bed.

You take care to prop your pillows behind his back and his gaze watches as you climb on top, your touch gentle to guide his tip between your wet folds. He reaches to grip into the softness of your hips, lifting to ease the entirety of his length into you; your head tilts back with a cockdrunk grin to your lips and you slowly begin to rock against his hips, while Aemond presses to meet your motion.

You look down at the prince and his gaze is intense in return, one sapphire eye and one lavender eye that bore through you. The lighting of the room gives him an ethereal beauty and your eyes admire how the shadows spread across the rivets of his chest and abdomen when he flexes to meet you with the motion of his hips. His silken hair spills on both sides, a contrast to your dark sheets, like a silver halo for this deity clenched between your thighs.

“Aemond,” your voice is so low, but he is rapt to your attention. “Jenigon nykēla.”

Touch me.

He releases one hand and reaches between your thighs, his thumb gentle with his touch until the slick on your cunt coats his tip. He finds your pearl and moves in circles to match the rhythm of his hips, his touch igniting the passion that coils in the pit of your stomach. Your nails bite into his chest, leaving creases of red crescent moons on his pale skin; you bite your bottom lip, quickening the movement of your hips.

Aemond returns your passion, rutting upwards until your breath hitches and your velvety walls begin to clench around him, coaxing his own release with a guttural groan from the back of his throat; his arm pushes himself upright and the other moves to slip around your waist, burying his face in the juncture of your neck and shoulder, soaking in your scent.

He falls back and pulls you with him, his arms wrapping around you and you nestle against his chest; your smile is unable to leave your face as you press a kiss to his chest, moving to press your lips to his neck. He hums, his cheeks dimpling with a closed lip smile, and you whisper, “Aemond, how did you find me?” Your voice is soft. “This has to be a dream.”

He hums again, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “I will tell you everything in the morning,” he promises, nestling with you beneath the quilts on your bed.

Your fingers trace the hard planes of his abdomen, the softest touch to test if he was really there. But in the morning you will be gone, you don’t say and, instead, his steady breathing lulls you to sleep.

#the past and the pending #Aemond Targaryen x Modern!FemReader #aemond targaryen #aemond fanfic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x modern!reader #hotd fanfic #aemond smut #thanks for reading #and thanks for all the love #♥

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sillylotrpolls · 5 months

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For the record, Tolkien really did have some drafts in which Boromir lived. In these, he not only became increasingly envious of Aragorn, but eventually betrayed him to Saruman.

After the Men return to their city, “Boromir deserts and sneaks off to Saruman, to get his help in becoming Lord of Minas Tirith” (TI 210). Surprisingly, this plot point stays in place for a while. Later, Boromir is said to be “enraged” when “the Lord of Minas Tirith is slain” and Aragorn is chosen to rule in his stead (TI 211). In this version, too, he defects to Saruman. Christopher Tolkien suggests that in this, Boromir may be “a faint adumbration of Wormtongue” (TI 214). This suggestion is fascinating, as it brings to our attention possible affinities between the heir to the stewardship of Minas Tirith and the power-hungry wizard. According to the outline, Boromir does not repent, but is “slain by Aragorn” (TI 212)!

Source: https://www.tor.com/2020/10/15/exploring-the-people-of-middle-earth-boromir-the-brave/

#lotr #lord of the rings #poll #polls #boromir

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lizzieonka · 23 days

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Unpopular opinion: There is no Link Click “trio.” It’s just the ShiGuang Duo + Qiao Ling

Now, before the Qiao Ling fans come after me, I just want to make it clear that I do not hate Qiao Ling. She’s a queen, and I love her. What I do hate, however, is the writers’ neglect of her character.

Warning: This will contain major Link Click season 1 and 2 spoilers.

Cheng Xiaoshi, Lu Guang, and Qiao Ling have been marketed as the main trio right from the OPs and EDs all the way to the different official artworks and PVs. But despite this, Qiao Ling has never been portrayed like a protagonist in the story itself. Her value has always been tied to some other character, and what’s sadder is that even as a supporting character, she’s still being neglected by the writers.

Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang both have something in themselves that push the story forward. Cheng Xiaoshi’s recklessness in s1 is what gives tension to the dives and what leads to the overarching plot related to Emma. His planning in s2 also keeps the plot going. On the other hand, Lu Guang acts as the voice of reason, grounding the fantasy aspect of the show. His hypocrisy revealed in s2 also reshapes how we view the entire story.

But what about Qiao Ling?

Throughout most of season 1, she’s been kept in the dark about ShiGuang’s powers, which in turn excludes her from a big part of the story. In s1, it was only during the kidnapping arc that we see a bit more about her, but the focus wasn’t on her at all but on some random extra. And at the last episode when she finally gets to be in on the whole eye power thing, Li Tianchen possesses her, overshadowing Qiao Ling entirely and redirecting our attention and interest to him. (Extra: In season 1, between Qiao Ling and Emma, would you dare say Qiao Ling is the protagonist? I bet you won’t.)

Then in s2, despite Qiao Ling’s extra screen time and more involvement in the plot, the neglect of her character is even more palpable. She got possessed by a murderer, nearly killed her friend, and even tried to stab her own brother, but even after all these, we barely get to see how she had to process everything.

It’s really no surprise many people loved this scene:

This, for me, is the one time, the ONE time Qiao Ling is portrayed as a character on equal grounds with Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang. If Link Click were a sports anime, this would be the scene where she discards her role as the female manager over a bunch of male athletes and expresses her desire to become a player as well.

But unfortunately, after this episode, Qiao Ling is once again pushed to the sidelines. She’s a player now, yes, but a player who’s just being pushed along the game. She may take the initiative in some things (like talking to Li Tianxi), but even then, the things she do are all still just to help her friends. You know, like a supporting character. None of what she’s doing is for herself alone. (If any Blue Lock fans are reading this, Qiao Ling has no “ego,” so to speak.)

Qiao Ling has no goals of her own, and this is how the writers failed her.

All the other major characters have their own goals. Heck, even the antagonists are more like protagonists than Qiao Ling.

Cheng Xiaoshi wants to find his parents. And he also just wants to help the people he meets in dives

Lu Guang selfishly broke the rules of time travel just to keep one man alive and will do it again if he must

Li Tianxi betrays her brother and Qian Jin just to find a way home

Li Tianchen approaches ShiGuang and later kidnaps Cheng Xiaoshi because he also wants to go home

And Liu Xiao wants to, I don’t know, change the rules of time and space entirely?

God, writing that last bullet makes me realize that even Liu Xiao, who only showed up in the last episode of season 2, has more weight in the story than Qiao Ling. This is ridiculous.

Seriously, what is Qiao Ling even here for??? Play big sister???

Just market her as a supporting character. It’s fine. She’s still badass.

I also don’t have much hopes over how she will be in season 3 because of how season 2 ended. Qiao Ling seeing Lu Guang’s memories means her worth in s3 will inevitably be tied to this secret. It’s the s1 ending all over again. At the end of s1, her worth was tied to the mysterious Red Eyes. At the end of s2, it’s tied to Lu Guang.

If the Link Click writers are gonna keep pushing her as a protagonist, then they better start treating her like one!

It’s not enough to just give Qiao Ling a goal, by the way (although it is very important too). She must also become a player who has the power to control how the game goes. If she ends up inheriting Li Tianxi’s powers, as many theories have said, then may the drama around her not be focused on how she may leak Lu Guang’s secret at any time.

I don’t know what she could do with her powers, but I think it would be very interesting if she ends up opposing Lu Guang.

Lu Guang wants to keep Cheng Xiaoshi alive, but...

...he’s no longer alive. The Cheng Xiaoshi we see is just a glimpse of the past...

What if… as Qiao Ling sees more of Lu Guang’s memories, she sees more of the real Cheng Xiaoshi and suddenly… wants to let go… wants to move on?

The fandom have talked a lot about how ShiGuang may react once the secret is out. But what about how Qiao Ling would react to it over time as she realizes those memories weren’t just her overthinking things?

In season 1, she couldn’t bear to face that kid’s father for years, and at the end of s2, she couldn’t bear to confront Lu Guang… In s3, how long can she bear looking at her dead brother?

The chances of her “giving up” Cheng Xiaoshi and returning to the original timeline is slim, though. I’m just giving an example of how she can be more like a protagonist.

Anyways, I’ll end here… I still have so many thoughts, but I can’t figure out how to organize them. This has also been in my drafts for over two weeks and I just want to post it already!

#qiao ling #qiao ling meta #shiguang dailiren #link click #时光代理人 #link click spoilers #miyamiwu.meta #miyamiwu.src #link click meta

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