#which sounds a bit too ominous for an angel

[lowkeyren]

iridescent engravings!

in which — during the annual ball that was held with the sole purpose of finding a suitable candidate to be sunday’s future spouse, you (reluctantly) attended with no intention of winning his heart yet you were the only one he laid his eyes on the whole night.

pairing — sunday x gn!reader

༊*·˚✧.* — wc: 1k, unestablished relationship, love at first sight is real guys, idk why this took so long for me to write but it's finally here!!! likes and reblogs r appreciated, please enjoy <3

elegant crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling; with a hesitant sigh, you stepped on the polished marble floors, making your way into the ballroom. having received an invitation from the family around a week ago, and though you had initially baulked at the invitation, the prospect of declining without causing offense had left you with little choice but to attend.

it's just for a few hours, right… i'll be fine.

the sounds of violins accompanied by pianos filled the air as guests engaged in light conversations with each other. there was an obvious crowd surrounding the main star of the night. sunday was dressed in a refined and elegant suit, exuding effortless grace that seemed to radiate from every movement. you glanced at him, poor guy you think, he's surrounded by endless hordes of guests trying to make a good impression, seemingly never getting a moment to himself, he barely even has space to breathe! 

you were too busy staring and you almost dropped your glass of wine as he happened to look over and lock eyes with you. 

those mesmerizing eyes of his.

you quickly regained your composure and took a sip of your wine, silently praying that the night would end quicker. yet throughout the whole night, you couldn't help but feel eyes boring into your back, it felt like someone was watching you, but when you looked around, everyone was minding their own business. perhaps you’re just getting self-conscious here.

you kept to yourself mostly, except for a few occasions where some of your acquaintances had come up to you, you guys chatted for a bit and they left as quickly as they came. but still, you can't shake off that ominous feeling, it felt unsettling. 

as the night wore on, you walked through the crowd, twirling the wine glass in your hands, the liquid swaying around, threatening to spill out. scanning the area, you spotted sunday across the room, seemed like this time you caught him staring instead. though neither of you broke eye contact, the weight of sunday's gaze bore down on you as you navigated through the crowd, the silent exchange of glances speaking volumes without a single word being uttered. 

he thinks you’re lovely, truly. the most gorgeous one he ever laid his eyes on, and frankly, he ever will. he never wants to take his eyes off of you, not even for a moment.

despite the distance between you, the intensity of his stare drew you in like a magnet. the tension in the air seemed to thicken, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves dancing in your stomach, his eyes pierced through the air and stayed firmly locked onto yours. 

with each step he took, the distance between you shrunk, until finally, he stood before you, his sole presence left you breathless. (he is the most handsome man in penacony after all) his voice, smooth and angelic, broke through the silence as he greeted you with a charming smile, his words washed over you like a gentle breeze on a warm summer's night.

you tried your best to maintain your composure, subconsciously smoothing out your attire, you could feel the warmth rising to your cheeks. you could particularly smell the jealousy from the people around you. but none of that mattered. you allowed yourself to be swept away by sunday’s hypnotising eyes and alluring words. 

“may i?”, he extends his hand, and a surge of anticipation courses through you. before you could fully comprehend the implications, your instinctive response slips past your lips.

"of course," the words escaping before your brain could catch up with your heart. you place your hand in his. with a gentle squeeze of your hand, you think he's going to lead you to the dance floor, what you didn't expect was for him to deftly slide a ring onto your index finger. a gasp escapes your lips and many others too. the delicate ring adorns your finger, it seems like it was made just for you, fitting perfectly. 

the soft strains of music enveloping you like a warm embrace as he gently leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss onto your fingers. around you, the murmurs of the other guests fade into the background, leaving only the two of you suspended in time, lost in the moment.

“mr sunday, a moment please… it's urgent!”, the interruption jolts you back to reality, sunday's gaze flickers briefly in the direction of the voice, the servant shrinks in fear as he gives you an apologetic smile. prominent annoyance crossing sunday’s features before he turns his attention back to you, his expression softening once more.

"stay here, wait for me." he whispers, his voice tingling with regret as he reluctantly releases your hand. with one last glance, he stepped away, leaving you standing alone amidst the murmurs of the other guests, the sensation of his touch still raw on your skin.

you touch the ring on your finger, feeling your heart thump loudly. this wasn't how you had envisioned the night unfolding—your intention had never been to win his heart, yet somehow, he had given it to you anyway.

sunday wasn’t paying attention to whatever the servant was saying, his focus was solely fixed on you, admiring you, captivated by how adorable you looked as you inspected the ring with faint blush painting your cheeks. sunday's eyes trace the curve of your lips, with you standing there amidst the grandeur of the ballroom, he thinks you look far more majestic than any shall ever compare.

a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his chest swelling with a warmth that he hadn’t felt in ages. an infatuation that seems to grow stronger with each passing heartbeat. and the ring, a promise of something more to come, you just need to wait for him.

masterlist

#hsr x reader #sunday x reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai starrail x reader #star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x gender neutral reader #hsr fanfic #hsr fluff #honkai star rail x you #hsr imagines #sunday hsr #sunday x you #sunday fanfic #sunday honkai star rail

[youryurigoddess]

I was minding my own business and analyzing another part of the A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop from the Radio Times footage when I noticed something interesting on Aziraphale’s desk. It looks like the angel was studying a handwritten copy of someone’s last will and testament and left in a hurry, with a bronze medal and a fountain pen on top of it. And… an attachment of a land registry plan, barely visible underneath.

Obviously that’s when my South Downs obsessed brain turned all of its alarms on and decided to read the whole thing. And look for the missing parts, since only a portion of the original document was visible on screen. Unfortunately the full text is much longer and less exciting than anticipated, and — spoiler alert — related to a different area of the country, but still relevant to the Good Omens universe. We’ll look into that in a moment.

Let’s start with the struck bronze medal — acting here as a paperweight, which makes the documents in question already stand out from the usual bumph and bric-a-brac accumulated by Aziraphale over an unknown period of time on his desk.

It’s a very interesting rendition of the mythological scene centered around Daedalus fastening the wings onto his son Icarus (little does he know that this attempt to escape imprisonment will lead to his son’s demise). Contrary to popular sentiment in the history of art, this particular version of Icarus isn’t depicted as a child or teenager, but as a warrior donning a helmet and preparing himself to battle. Which makes perfect sense after discovering that it was made for the Royal Air Force Athletic & Cross Country Association’s WAAF Athletic Championships in 1945. There’s some poetic irony in the fact that the medal was apparently given to the third place winner in a high jump category.

Apart from its obviously military style, this concept seems inspired by a 1885-86 medal by Auguste Patey commemorating the experimental flights at the first French wind tunnel at Chalais-Meudon, a town on the banks of the Seine near Paris. On 9 August 1884, engineers Charles Renard and Arthur Constantin Krebs made the first controllable free flight there when they piloted their airship, La France, over a course and returned to their starting point. From 9 August 1884 to 23 September 1885, La France made seven flights and was able to return to its starting point five times.

The last Will and Testament of Josiah Wedgwood

The last Will and Testament of me, Josiah Wedgwood, of Etruria, in the County of Stafford, made the second day of November, in the year of Our Lord one thousand seven hundred and ninety-three, in manner and form following (that is to say): I give and bequeath unto my dear and affectionate Wife, Sarah Wedgwood, all that messuage or dwelling-house situate at or near Etruria aforesaid, with the buildings, gardens, and appurtenances thereto belonging, late in the holding of Mr. Thomas Wedgwood; and also all that field or piece of land in which the same stands, containing eight acres or thereabouts; and also all that close, piece, or parcel of land lying contiguous to the said dwelling-house, called the Horse Pasture, containing by estimation twelve acres or thereabouts; and also all that piece or parcel of land situate at Etruria aforesaid, heretofore purchased by me from Mr. Hugh Booth; To have and to hold the said messuage or dwelling-house, pieces or parcels of land, hereditaments and premises, with their and every of their appurtenances, unto my said Wife, Sarah Wedgwood and her assigns, for and during the term of her natural life. And from and after her decease, I give and devise all and singular the said messuage or dwelling-house, pieces or parcels of land, hereditaments, and premises, with their and every of their appurtenances, unto my Son, Josiah Wedgwood, his heirs and assigns for ever. Also I give and bequeath the sum of three thousand pounds unto my said Wife, to be paid to her within twelve months next after my decease. Also I give and bequeath unto my said Wife so much and such part of my household goods and furniture as is mentioned and specified in the Schedule or Paper Writing hereunto annexed, marked with the Letter A. Also I give and bequeath the sum of ten thousand pounds unto my Executors hereinafter named, upon trust that they, my said Executors, do and shall place the said sum of ten thousand pounds out upon some good and sufficient public or private security or securitys, at interest, to be approved of nevertheless by my said Wife, and do and shall pay to, or permit and suffer my said Wife to receive and take the interest, dividends, and produce of the said sum of Ten thousand pounds, as the same shall from time to time become due to and for her own use and benefit for and during the term of her natural life.

And from and after the decease of my said Wife, I direct that the said sum of ten thousand pounds shall be applied for and towards payment and satisfaction of the several legacys or sums of money hereinafter given by me. And I do hereby direct that the provision hereinbefore made or intended for my said Wife shall be in lieu, bar, and satisfaction of dower and thirds at Common Law. Also I give and devise unto my said Executors, for the use of my said son, Josiah Wedgwood, his heirs and assigns for ever, that part of Etruria Estate which I now occupy, upon the north side of the Turnpike Road leading from Newcastle to Leek, with the house I now live in, the outbuildings belonging to the same, with the pleasure grounds and all appurtenances thereto belonging, being about sixty-five acres; and also another part of the Etruria Estate, now in the occupation of Richard Hall, being about sixty-eight acres; And also another part of the Etruria Estate, now in the occupation of Thomas Ford, being about forty-five acres; and also the Estate late a part of the White House Estate, on the south side the Turnpike Road leading from Newcastle to Leek; and likewise the land purchased from Thomas Heath, with a small meadow on the north side the said Road, and lying in the Parish of Woolstanton; and likewise a meadow lately purchased from John Mare, of Handley, — all in the holding of Richard Billington, being altogether about eighty-one acres; and also a piece of land on the south side of the same Road, now in the holding of Daniel Haywood, being about two acres; and also an Estate bought from George Taylor, and now in the holding of Jonathan Adams, being about nine acres; and also a small piece of land adjoining the land bought from Hugh Booth, together with a part of the Hough Meadow, and now in the holding of John Ryder, being about four acres; and also an estate called the Spittels, situate in Penkhull, in the Parish of Stoke upon Trent, and lately purchased from James Godwin, containing sixty-three acres or thereabouts; and also an Estate adjoining to the Spittels on one side, and to Stoke Lane on the other, situate in Penkhull aforesaid, in the Parish of Stoke upon Trent, late in the holding of Humphrey Ratcliff, containing fifteen acres or thereabouts; and also a piece of land called the Woodhills, situate in the Parish of Stoke upon Trent, lately purchased from Ralph Baddeley, and now in my own occupation, being about eleven acres; and also all buildings, tenements, houses, farmhouses, outhouses, pot works, warehouses, workshops, and other buildings, of what kind soever they may be, situate, standing, and being upon any of the land or premises above named, and not hereinbefore devised; and also all my share of the models and molds of the Manufactory in Etruria aforesaid. Also I give and bequeath the sum of thirty thousand pounds unto my son John Wedgwood. Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-nine thousand one hundred and ten pounds, and likewise twenty shares in the Monmouthshire Canal, unto my Son Thomas Wedgwood.

Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds unto my daughter Susannah Wedgwood; and which said several legacys or sums of thirty thousand pounds, and twenty-nine thousand one hundred and ten pounds, and twenty shares in the Monmouthshire Canal, and twenty-five thousand pounds, so given to my said Son John Wedgwood, and to my said Son Thomas Wedgwood, and to my said Daughter Susannah Wedgwood, I do hereby direct shall be paid to them as soon as conveniently may be after my decease, together with interest for the same in the mean time, after the rate of four pounds and ten shillings per centum per annum. Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds unto my Daughter Catharine Wedgwood, to be paid to her as soon after her age of twenty-one years, or day of marriage, which shall first happen, as conveniently may be, with interest for the same in the mean time after the rate of four pounds and ten shillings per centum per annum. Also I give and bequeath the sum of twenty-five thousand pounds unto my Daughter Sarah Wedgwood, to be paid to her as soon after her age of twenty-one years, or day of marriage, which shall first happen, as conveniently may be, with interest for the same in the mean time after the rate of four pounds and ten shillings per centum per annum. Provided always, and I do hereby direct, that in case my said Daughters Catherine Wedgwood and Sarah Wedgwood, or either of them, shall happen to die unmarried before the age of twenty-one years, then that the legacy or legacys of her or them so dying shall sink into and become part of the residue of my personal Estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly, as shall hereinafter be mentioned. Also I do hereby declare it to be my will that all the rest, residue, and remainder of my said stock in trade, goods, wares, implements, materials, and utensils of trade, and other matters and things used by me, in or belonging to my said Manufactory, except the models or molds therein used or kept, shall, at the time of my decease, sink into and become part of the residue of my personal estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly. Also I give and bequeath all and singular my household goods and furniture not hereinbefore given to my said Wife, together with all my books, prints, books of prints, pictures, and cabinets of Experiments, of Fossils, and of Natural History, unto my said Son Josiah Wedgwood. And I do hereby commit the Guardianship and Tuition of such of my said children as shall not at the time of my decease have attained the age of twenty-one years unto my said Wife and my said Son John Wedgwood, until such children shall attain the said age. And I do direct that the fortunes or portions of such of my said children shall in the mean time be managed by my said Wife and my said Son John Wedgwood, and a competent part of the interest and produce thereof be applied for their maintenance and education, and the residue of such interest and produce be suffered to accumulate for their benefit and advantage in such manner as my said Wife and Son John Wedgwood shall in their discretion think most meet and proper.

Also I givo and bequeath one annuity or yearly sum of twenty pounds unto my Brother in Law, Philip Clark, for and during the term of his natural life. Also I give and bequeath one annuity or yearly sum of Twenty pounds unto my Niece, Sarah Taylor, for and during the term of her natural life. Also I give and bequeath one annuity or yearly sum of twenty pounds unto Mr. Alexander Chisholm, for and during the term of his natural life; recommending it to my Son Josiah Wedgwood to give him any further assistance that he may stand in need of, to make the remainder of his life easy and comfortable. And I do hereby direct that the said several and respective annuitys of twenty pounds, twenty pounds, and twenty pounds shall be paid and payable quarterly, at the four most usual feasts or days of payment in the year, (that is to say) on every twenty-fifth day of March, twenty-fourth day of June, twenty-ninth day of September, and twenty-fifth day of December, by even and equal portions, free and clear of and from all taxes, charges, and deductions whatsoever; the first payment thereof to begin and be made on such of the said days as shall first and next happen after my decease. Also I give and bequeath the sum of ten guineas unto the said Alexander Chisholm, as a testimony of my regard for him. Also I give and bequeath the sum of two hundred pounds apiece unto all and every the children of my Nephew Thomas Byerley, who shall be living at the time of my decease, to be paid to them at their respective ages of twenty-one years: Provided always, and in case any one or more of the said children shall happen to die without issue before he, she, or they shall attain the said age, then I direct that the legacy or legacys to him, her, or them so dying shall go and be paid unto and amongst the survivors or survivor of them equally, share and share alike, in case there shall be more than one, at such time and in such manner as is hereinbefore directed and expressed of and concerning the said original legacys or sums of two hundred pounds: Provided also, and in case all the said children shall happen to die without issue before they shall attain the said age, then I direct that all the said legacies or sums of Two hundred pounds so given to them as aforesaid shall sink into and become part of the residue of my personal estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly. And I do hereby expressly direct and declare that no interest shall be allowed or paid upon the said respective legacys or sums of two hundred pounds in the mean time from my decease to the time that the same shall become payable by virtue of this my Will; such legacys or sums of two hundred pounds being given by me in lieu of legacys or sums of one hundred pounds, which it was originally my intention to have directed to be placed out at interest, and to have accumulated for such children of the said Thomas Byerley as aforesaid until they should attain the age of twenty-one years. Also I give and bequeath unto each of my Nephews Thomas and John Wedgwood, Sons of my late Nephew Thomas Wedgwood, of the Upper House in Burslem, the sum of two hundred pounds each, to be paid to them at their respective ages of twenty-one years: Provided always, and in case they shall either or both of them die before they arrive at the age of twenty-one years, I direct that the legacy or legacys of the party or parties so dying, of two hundred pounds so given to them as aforesaid, shall sink into and become part of the residue of my personal estate, and be applied and disposed of accordingly.

Also I give to my Servant George Jones the sum of twenty guineas, as a token of my remembrance of his faithful services to me. Also I give and bequeath to the several persons whose names shall be mentioned and comprised in the Schedule or List hereto annexed, signed with my name, and marked with the letter "B," the mourning Rings or other small legacys or sums of money which shall be therein specified and expressed. Also I give and bequeath unto James Caldwell, Esq., of Newcastle under Lyme, in the County of Stafford, the sum of one hundred pounds, which I desire he will accept as a testimony of my friendship and esteem for him. And I do hereby direct and appoint that my said Nephew Thomas Byerley shall, under the direction of my Executors, settle my accounts and manage and conduct the collection of my debts and other matters relating to the settlement of my concerns in business; and that a Salary of one hundred pounds per annum be allowed and paid to him for such particular service, so long as he shall be employed therein, over and above all charges and expenses attending the same. And it is also my Will that an estate at Burslem, late in the occupation of Joseph Wedgwood, consisting of a newly erected dwelling house, a set of pot works, with other buildings, and a field called the Cross Hill, containing altogether about two acres; and likewise an estate in the Parish of Astbury, in the County of Chester, called Spengreen, and now in the holding of Thomas Johnson, containing about seventy-five acres or thereabouts; and also a piece of land on the east side of the Bridge in Congleton, in the said County of Chester, being about two rods; and also all the rest, residue, and remainder, messages, lands, tenements, hereditaments, and real estate, money, securities for money, debts due and owing, personal Estate and Effects of what nature or kind soever or wheresoever, not hereinbefore particularly devised or disposed of, together with such or so much of the several sums of money hereinbefore mentioned and bequeathed as shall, by means of the contingencies and directions hereinbefore expressed, shall all of them sink into and become parts of the said residue of my personal Estate. And I do hereby give, devise, and bequeath the same unto my said Executors, for the payment of the legacys and annuities hereinbefore mentioned; and provided there should be a residue after the above mentioned payments, then I direct that such residue shall go and be divided unto and amongst my said children, John Wedgwood, Thomas Wedgwood, Susannah Wedgwood, Catherine Wedgwood, and Sarah Wedgwood, their heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, equally, share and share alike, as tenants in common, and not as joint tenants; and if there should be any deficiency of real or personal estates for paying the said legacys and annuitys, such deficiency shall in that case be born equally amongst and made up by those my said children above named, (that is to say) John Wedgwood, Thomas Wedgwood, Susannah Wedgwood, Catherine Wedgwood, and Sarah Wedgwood, share and share alike, in proportion to the amount of the legacys to them herein left and bequeathed. And I do hereby nominate, constitute, and appoint my said Wife, my said Son John Wedgwood, and the said James Caldwell, Esq., Executrix and Executors of this my Will. And lastly, I do hereby revoke all former or other Will or Wills by me at any time heretofore made, and do declare this only to be my last Will and Testament.

In witness whereof I have to this my last Will and Testament, contained in six sheets of paper, and have to each of the first five sheets thereof set my hand, and to the sixth and last sheet thereof my hand and seal the day and year first before written. — Jos. Wedgwood (L.S.)

Signed, sealed, published, and declared by the said Josiah Wedgwood, as and for his last Will and Testament, in the presence of us, who in his presence, and in the presence of each other, have hereunto subscribed our names as witnesses thereto; the several following words being first interlined: money—my—happen—said. — Alexr. Chisholm, Thomas Mitchell, Joseph Mitchell, Joseph Rutland

John Wedgwood, of Etruria, in the County of Stafford, Esquire, maketh oath, and saith that he has searched among the papers and writings of his late Father, Josiah Wedgwood, late of Etruria aforesaid, Esquire, deceased, in order to find certain Schedules or Paper Writings referred to in the last Will and Testament of the said Josiah Wedgwood, and therein mentioned to be annexed thereto, and respectively marked A and B. And this Deponent further saith that he has not been able to find such Schedules or Paper Writings, or either of them; and this Deponent further saith that he has never heard or been informed, nor does he believe that the said Josiah Wedgwood ever wrote or made out, or caused to be written or made out, such Schedules or Paper Writings, or either of them. — John Wedgwood

Sworn at Newcastle under Lyme, in the County of Stafford, the 29th day of June, 1795, Before me, John Lloyd, a Commissioner.

Proved at London, 2nd July, 1795, before the Judge, by the Oath of John Wedgwood, the Son, one of the Executors, to whom Administration was granted, having been first sworn by Commission duly to administer. Power reserved of making the like grant to Sarah Wedgwood, Widow, the Relict, and James Caldwell, the other Executors, when they shall apply for the same.

That was… certainly a lot of words. Let’s see if they mean anything! Turns out that this isn’t another John Gibson, rural postman and shoemaker from New Cumnock, Scotland, but a prominent historical figure with close familial connections to someone whose name you definitely know.

Josiah Wedgwood (12 July 1730 – 3 January 1795) was an English potter, entrepreneur and abolitionist. Founding the Wedgwood company in 1759, he developed improved pottery bodies by systematic experimentation, and was the leader in the industrialisation of the manufacture of European pottery. He is credited as a pioneer of modern marketing, specifically direct mail, money back guarantees, travelling salesmen, carrying pattern boxes for display, self-service, free delivery, buy one get one free, and illustrated catalogues.

As well as pretty, decorative vases and crockery with aesthetics and technology rooted in antiquity, Wedgwood put his designs to a more radical use. He was elected onto the Committee of the Abolition of the Slave Trade and designed an anti-slavery medallion which became the most famous image of a black person in all of 18th-century art. Covering the costs of distribution and production himself, Wedgwood ensured that it became a powerful symbol of public support.

Josiah was also a founder of the famous Darwin–Wedgwood family and the grandfather of Charles and Emma Darwin. It was the considerable inheritance Josiah left to his son, Josiah II, that enabled young Darwin’s survey voyage aboard HMS Beagle and, consequently, the development of his theory of evolution.

Okay, but what links the “Prince of Potters” to Aziraphale and his bookshop?

In 1774 Josiah Wedgwood and his longtime business partner, Thomas Bentley, opened a new warehouse, enamelling rooms and most handsome showrooms at 12-13 Greek Street, Soho. In 1795, after Josiah’s death, the Wedgwood studio moved to 8 St. James’s Square and the buildings were later occupied by coachmakers, writers and other artists.

Now, through Word of God we already know that Aziraphale spent the 1600s using his personal savings to gradually buy out portions of the neighboring land in order to build the original bookshop “on Greek Street just off Old Compton”, which finally opened in its current form in 1800.

This means that for the time Josiah’s company operated in Soho, they were at least neighbors.

#Yuri is doing her thing #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #A. Z. Fell & Co. #aziraphale #aziraphale’s bookshop #aziraphale is a landlord #and has a penchant for legal documents #which sounds a bit too ominous for an angel

[sttoru]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒.

‘malaysia, ah. . . yeah, malaysia —kuantan would be nice.’

☀︎｜nanami kento x female reader. fluff (or is it?) + heavy angst. jjk spoilers (season 2, episode 18) / chapter 120. you’re married. mentions of blood. sad / bittersweet ending. major character death. don’t show your friends who stan nanami this, they might jump from a building <3

sunny weather with a gentle breeze and the sounds of the crashing waves eventually landing ashore. the peace and quiet that most long for.

“kento, you’ve been reading for a while now.”

ah, and the voice of his lovely wife whom he cherishes most. a perfect setting — a safe space for someone who doesn’t know what right or wrong is anymore. for someone who’s tired of the way the world is.

time seems frozen when you spend it with the one you love most. and when you spend it somewhere you wish to actually be.

kento looks up from his book, eyes meeting the alluring clear stretch of ocean and the blue sky that held no clouds. his gaze then falls back down on the page he had last read — or, perhaps it was the previous page that he had been reading. or maybe the one before that. or perhaps he hadn’t even started the story.

he doesn’t know anymore. the pile of books that laid next to the rocking chair were all but a beautiful mystery. he had opened them, read them over and over, yet not a single word had been remembered.

kento doesn’t remember.

“kento?” your voice calls out once more. the sorcerer tilts his head back to look up at the one calling. there you were, standing next to him, hands on his shoulders with a gentle smile on your face.

you looked angelic. you looked like all he wanted. all he needed — a perfect complete picture.

kento hums and simply nods in response before looking down at the unknown novel in his hands, “yes, sorry, darling. i got a bit too caught up in the book.”

typical him.

a calming sound of laughter leaves your lips and kento instantly relaxes his shoulders — which he didn’t even know were tense in the first place. as if on cue, your fingers move to massage the muscles.

kento closes his eyes and sighs. he doesn’t bother putting a bookmark between the pages before closing the hardback. not like he needs it if he couldn’t even recall what he had skimmed through.

his eyes move under his eyelids — almost like they’re searching for something under the darkness of the curtains that were casted. the only thing he was focusing on right now were the noises on the beach and your sweet voice.

kento furrows his brows; the sounds of the crashing waves had soon overwhelmed the soft sound of your voice. a moment of peace was disturbed by the loud waves—waves that sounded more aggressive than gentle like they were seconds ago.

waves that sounded like continuous slashes.

a droplet of something warm falls on his skin and his eyes flutter open.

the sea was still there. the beach was still there. the house he had bought was still there. but most importantly, you were still there. though, there was an undeniable change in the atmosphere.

“you’re having a nosebleed.”

your worried comment makes kento stare up at you in confusion. a nosebleed? the pad of his thumb grazes over his upper lip. and there it was; the crimson stain slowly flowing down his finger, “oh.”

kento remembers. he remembers everything clearly. the sudden calmness in his surroundings that were once hectic; why he couldn’t recall what he had read; why the sounds of the waves had changed into something more ominous as the moments passed.

the realisation dawns upon him — and it hit hard.

“i’m tired. i really am tired.” the sorcerer mutters at last. his body was exhausted. his eyes were droopy. things were beginning to fade. the realisation was beginning to kick in. the effects of the hallucinations was starting to wear off.

he gazes at you one more time. his weak hand reaches out to yours and he interlocks your fingers. it pained him to see your eyes filled with sorrow and worry. even if you were but a fraction of his imagination.

maybe that’s how you actually are sitting on the couch in your shared home. maybe you are waiting on him to come back to you.

kento wouldn’t blame you if you did. he did promise that he’d be back, as did he do every other day. and he did come back as promised each time.

well, except for today.

“i didn’t know you were here.” the blonde sorcerer’s hoarse voice calls out once his peaceful surroundings had disappeared into thin air.

malaysia, kuantan — the beach — you. all but a nice dream. perhaps an alternative reality which he wished he could be in right this moment.

“yup. the whole time.”

kento looks down at the familiar face. the blue-haired executioner who was on the brink of finishing his lifetime once and for all.

one last sigh leaves kento’s lips; his life flashing before his eyes. both his regrets and satisfactions—his achievements and hopes.

and lastly, the moment of peace he had experienced before his time was over. you had helped him until the very end — giving him the peace he much needed during his suffering. a dream in the form of all he wished to have; of you.

the dream was a sweet replica of what could have been. but unfortunately, human dreams must always come to an end — and reality is what must be faced once they do.

that’s the way it is.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #nanami kento x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami fic #jjk angst #jjk fic #jjk spoilers

[starrclown]

☆ Have Tea With Me: Hazbin Hotel's trailer ☆

Welcome Matey's to my new series:

Have tea with me. 🫖🍵

Fancy ain't it? Matey's it's time we talk about the Hazbin Hotel trailer. I watched it recently and it has... problems. Look, Vivziepop dickriders stans if you have a problem with this post then kindly leave because I will be complaining quiet a bit. Okay at first let's get my complains across and how I would modify it.

☆PROBLEMS:

Alastors broadcast. Why the hell did THE RADIO DEMON make a TV commercial? Wouldn't that be a Vox type thing? Shouldn't he be making ya know, a radio commercial? Isn't his whole thing that he doesn't know modern day technology? Also, what the hell was the porn studio thing? Like that was part of the commercial. Was Alastor just looming over Angel while he was at work? Did Angel send in that footage? Why is Travis there? That commercial is so confusing and it's only 30 seconds.

The voices. Look I'm not gonna beat a dead horse, some of the voices are bad. I only really liked Charlie's and Vaggies. Vox's voice is just bad for his character. Alastor's sounds odd. What was so cool about Alastors voice is the radio type voice filter and the personality Bosco put in the character. Now the filter is weaker and he just sounds weaker. Angel's voice actually makes me wanna tear my ears off. Cherrie, (wiki confirmed by the way.) was made Australian after the pilot and was supposed to have a Australian accent. Maybe I'm just stupid but I did NOT hear a Australian accent. (This is NOT a dis at the voice actors. God damn they are trying their best.)

The Pride City is too purple. You can tell on multiple occasions that Vivziepop is trying to respond to criticism. If you don't know Pride's original color is purple so they turned up the purple in the city. Ya they did that to much.

The Angel's. Bro Adam and Lute are so fucking ugly. Why spoil the main antagonist of the series early? Like that's if Centerword (bomb show by the way) had The Nowhere King playing in the background for the trailer. (We will TALK about The Nowhere King when I talk about rewrite Alastor.) It makes no sense to show the bad guys NOW.

The animation. Oh my GOD. Dude at some points the animation is so fucking bad. The anatomy is odd and the values make me upset. My most hated scene is where that green skinned demon is being chased by the exterminator. The animation is so off and I can't explain it. The line art looks thinner. (Speaking of which why do both Angel and Andrelphus have diffrent outlines? It looks off.)

The premise changed. WHY DID YOU CHANGE THE PREMISE?? WHY ARE WE FIST FIGHTING HEAVEN NOW??? I will talk about this in a diffrent post cause it bothers me SO bad.

Huskerdust is cannon. Look, I LOVE Huskerdust but they should have waited man. I feel like they will be rushed and I'm scared for how they'll handle them. I also want to make a post about them cause I love this ship and I wanna explain their dynamic in my rewrite.

Both Charlie's and Alastors "demon" forms are so fucking weak now. Always so cool in the comic, now he just has black eyes. Wow, so scary, don't let the tenticals get me.

Luicifers wings. Two things. 1. They should have waited. Having the Lucifers wings being shown should have been a bigger deal. 2. HUSK HAS MORE DETAILS ON HIS WINGS. Husk has more details on his wings then the King of Hell, fallen angel. Just maul that over.

☆TOUCH UP? I DON'T KNOW:

Make Alastor technologically dumb. Have him make a radio broadcast and not a TV commercial.

Let the voice actors do their own thing. I think the issue is that the actors have to live up to who used to play the characters. Let them be fun! Let them be their own thing!

Spread colors around. Make diffrent building different colors to show different demons own the buildings.

DO NOT SHOW THE ANGELS. Make them ominous and something that should be feared. If ya wanna make some Angel's bad fine, but keep them ominous. Like instead of showing the extermination, show the bodies and destruction of Hell. Show small scenes of demons hiding, show Chalie crying over bodies, show businesses destroyed. Make it seem like a problem needing solved.

Okay I don't own a animation studio yet so I can't say much. Maybe donate some of the money for Broadway actors to the animation? Just a tea time thought.

KEEP THE PREMISE. YOU CAN MAKE A GOOD SHOW ABOUT BAD PEOPLE GETTING BETTER I SWEAR. KEEP MAKING THE SINNERS GET TO HEAVEN THE PREMISE VIVIANE PLEASE-

Keep Huskerdust. Just slow down. Oh my God make it seme like it would be a actual relationship. Like make them warm up to each other, talk about their both human and demon lives. (Fun fact: Husk is from Vegas and worked in a Casino. Mafia's actually messed around with Casino's back in the day. I know this cause one of my stories has a mafia member and a La gambler fall in love.) Have them help each other with their addictions. Just slow down.

This go for all tye characters. MAKE THEM LOOK LIKE DEMONS. (Wonderful advice I know. Just you get the general idea.)

Make Lucifers wings bat like. Biblically they became bat like. If ya don't wanna go down that route then make them more royal like. Just make them prettier.

I know this advice is messy but this was basically just touch ups and the potential for this show. This trailer is disappointing :/

Well Matey's tea time is over. Come back next tike and bring your own delicate little pastries.

1. I only came up with Have Tea With Me because if anyone ever asks a question I just wanna draw a scene of us having Tea.

2. I GOT MY AO3 ACCOUNT!!! I'm writing my first fan fiction!! Will post when it's out. My account is StarrClown 😘🫶

- ⭐️StarClown⭐️

#hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop critical #vivziepop critique #vivziepop criticism #hazbin hotel critique

[phantomphangphucker]

Phic Phight - The Bone-Stick Breaker

@46-reasonable-hamsters

Make no BONES about it, there’s a lot of GLOWING remarks in here. A real ILLUMINATING read, that’s positive to leave your eyes SHINING with laughter (and-also-maybe-a-little-bit-of-concern-about-the-authors-mental-state).

Should this be concerning? yeah.

Was it incredibly weird? Yup.

Would any reasonable person be incredibly disturbed right now? YES.

Does Danny need therapy? ABSOLUTELY.

Why you ask?

Oh only because Danny is glowing through the motions of systematically attempting to break every single bone in his entire body one by one, nothing too wild.

Just a little mild self torture is all.

It’s no big deal.

It’s definitely not a sign of a severely unstable psyche, no matter what anyone -Jazz- says.

It’s fun.

That’s a lie.

Well at least it’s Educational.

eh-juh-kay-shuh-nuhl.

Yay! Points for him! And points for another broken bone! A glow-in-the-dark star sticker!

That’s one more rib down!

He’s okay.

Everything is FINE.

It’s not like his boney woney’s are filled with glow-stick juice or anything.

Okay that’s exactly what it is.

He’s a little glowy broken boy.

A bone beater boy.

A real boner if you will.

That was a really dumb joke but he absolutely does not apologize. Just like this is a really dumb plan but he’s not apologising for this either.

Even if his teeth did count as bones and he did attempt to Slap Chop™ one to see what would happen and maybe accidentally sent a chunk flying into the soup pot.

At least he confirmed that yes, his teeth glowed when ‘snapped’, or Slap Chopped™, too.

He’s positive he is absolutely making Technus regret breaking his leg the day before yesterday’s morning, leading to his glowing discovery; all the ghosts were giving positively glowing reviews.

Meaning some were casually cheering the chaos and suffering, and others were begging him to ‘please stop’ and ‘spare us’ and ‘no don’t stab us with your bones! Why do you have bones!’.

But Danny had bones.

Ho boy did he ever have bones.

Bones to pick with everyone that is! Ha!

He’s got this glow stick party going and it’s utterly illuminating the night. Really lighting it up. Giving it a good ol’ spit shine. Absolutely brightening up everyone’s nightmares.

He should start a rave.

A bone glow stick rave.

It would be a bone cracking good time.

Maybe he could liquify some bones, hope they still be shiny, and make a motherfuckin’ proper glowing jello pit. He could use it to try and make people see the light at the end of the tunnel and then all the high people would make a bunch of giggle-watts!

Plus!

Everyone would definitely pay for that!

You know, since he’s not shady!

He is slim though, slim and slime. An ecto-green lime crime, since he be leaving random bones bits around.

The cops must be having a fright over all his nightlights.

He kept ignoring their questioning though, gotta keep the conversations light after all.

Let him be a funky little bean, copper man!

ACAB!

WHOOOOO!

If it was Christmas time he’d replace the city hall Christmas trees star with a bone star. Like a rock star but more him flavoured and more likely to sound like ominous crunching sounds and unholy screams. The kind that would get him basked in holy light out of sheer concern.

Eh. Danny’d still shine brighter.

After all he’s broken a-hundred-and-ninety-two bones, how many bones have those angels broken?

Probably none.

So there.

He’s the winner! Go him! Chicken bone dinner!

Fear the glowing Bone-Stick that is he!

Like a boom stick, except what gets shot and boomed everywhere is BONES!

A real glow up he says, especially since he’s waaaaaaaay brighter.

And then Val has the gaul to catch him in an ecto-net, point at him, and tells him to ‘stop this you menace’ and how ‘seventeen people have vomited because of this crap’ and ‘why is this your response when Tucker cuts off your caffeine supply’.

Which, rude.

Either he got his life blood or they got his bone blood!

BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD! BONES FOR THE BONE THRONE!

Val tasered him into unconsciousness for that one and Tuck dumped exactly one hundred and ninety eight bags of coffee beans on him.

…

But he made it to two-hundred-and-one on his first try? That’s more bones than what’s in one entire hamster! Doesn’t he deserve better pickings for his lickings?

Should he aim for forty-six hamsters next time? Really shoot for the stars and glow amongst them!

He must acquire more bones! Grow them from the ectoplasmic ether!

For the first time in a long time Tuck punches him.

Do they not understand?

Do they not know?!?

That this only causes the rumblies that only broken bones can satisfy to grow!

He will feast on his complete breaks and be one with THE NIGHT IN UN-DIMMABLE RADIANCE!

Shine bright like a bone diamond!

And be better at hide and glow seek!

But first.

Coffee.

Then after.

Only after.

The Bone-Stick Breaker shall return once more upon this mortal domain!

And with him!

UNENDING GLOW STICK BRIGHTERY!

End.

Prompt: Danny breaks a bone in ghost form for the first time, and discovers that his bones function similarly to glow sticks

#danny phantom #phandom #phicphight24 #phic phight 24 #danny fenton #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #my writing #phic phight #phan phic #fan fic #crack #crack fic #broken bones #puns

[loki-who-remains]

The soundtrack for season 2 is unbelievable. I thought nothing could beat season 1 music, but Natalie Holt did it again. I’m in awe. I can't wait for Vol.2.

I’m not a musician, I don’t really distinguish different instruments apart from general terms, but for myself I summarised that strings mainly belong to Loki and Sylvie, the theremin to TVA and Mobius, chorus/voices to HWR and Victor Timely. And again, it comes in three.

Burden of Wisdom

This is the first track for season 2 and it actually starts with the same whispery voices that can be heard in He Who Remains, which is the last track for season 1! I recommend listening to both in chronological order. The contrast between them, the character and gravity they convey. Ugh!

Theremin, chorus and strings are intertwined in a heartbeat-like sound. In this track you can actually hear a bit of the TVA theme but performed on Loki’s strings, as if he's accepted his fate paved for him and Sylvie by HWR. It does sound like a burden.

One Shot

It’s complex music with a lot of drama, hope and despair but also a happy ending. And it is a complicated sequence when Loki time slips to the future, is pruned and gets back to the present. The harp and chorus sound almost asgardian. It’s very stringy, and there are Sylvie’s strings this time too, and an epic, heroic build-up and Loki’s iconic fanfares when he is pulled from the time and soft lands on Mobius. To me personally this is very Sylkius somehow

Temporal Loom

It is the hard of the TVA, so the music sounds like a heartbeat, slightly irregular, quickening by the end. The whispers, and then the epic chorus. You can clearly see a small fragile man on the gangway against this monstrous merciless machine.

Zaniac

This is a banger. 70s disco beat, something from a James Bond movie. But if you listen closely, you can hear strings from Loki Green Theme in the background. They sound ominous but not loud enough for Brad to take it seriously just like he underestimates his opponents just a moment later. Loki’s strings and TVA’s theremin make pretty damn good combo, I love it I love it I love it so much.

Delivery

Such hopeful, pensive music. You know the history was altered that very moment and can’t be undone, this boy will change everything for better or for worse. In the end, the ultimate power in the universe are books in right (or wrong) hands. Chorus is there and is very prominent, not a whisper but almost angelic choir.

Time to Go

I looooove how this one starts so non-HWRy! Very playful, funny and slightly chaotic which suits Victor’s luminary persona that he puts on to hide his vulnerable soft self. It also has Loki’s iconic fanfares, performed by a woodwind this time. It doesn’t match with Loki’s appearance like in One Shot, but still is a really nice touch. And then it’s calm, pensive and somehow lonely. And that’s how Victor is, really.

O. B.

OB’s theme sounds like something from the future. His main notes are simple, optimistic tones arranged with electronic background. It stands out from all other TVA personnel related music. Just like him: a genius unstoppable engineer, alone in his department who won’t hold a grudge for this, always busy, always happy to see his colleagues and work in a team

Your Girl

Hauntingly beautiful and tragically romantic, but with undertones of static, Jaws and a villain theme from a horror movie.

I don’t wanna stop but I will because I feel like I’m starting to repeat myself and don’t have enough words to describe music. No, no, okay, one more

Tricks

The thrill of the chase. Brad's personality aside, it's terrifying to be chased by someone you can neither outrun nor outtrick. Makes you think what would happen if Loki suddenly changed his mind and turned into a full mode villain. Q&A has a similar vibe but with far more dark undertone.

okay I really need to stop here

All I wanna say is, Natalie Holt knows how to convey the essence of a character through music

#loki season 2 #loki series #natalie holt #loki soundtrack #Spotify

[streaminn]

My thoughts are a bit scattered, so I’m not sure if this makes sense, but possible prompt? Much as social media and fan edit tiktoks of visual fiction today will mostly be associated with a song that’s primarily used with said fan edits, it’s safe to assume that the new viper adaptions will have fan edits and a song associated with it, even if the song doesn’t show up in the adaptation. So, in a roundabout way, what song do you think would be the unofficial viper theme song?

nawh i gotchu jd, i gotchuu

(had to search up edit audios bc idk the titles for these)

Songs for Viper! all of them bc my mind can't settle for one:

killshot by magdalena bay reminds me of Viper. Idk why, but its giving me viper and her penchant with admiring the dark and death. Maybe Diet mountain dew by lana del rey!

Toxic by britney spears and judas by lady gaga come into mind too.

Sirens (usually seen for makima if i remember correctly or the one usually used with the ominous ass sounding edits) or Freak by sub urban if we're going for a more ominous vibe

Cinematic? Skyfall or Derniere Danse

Its definitely Sirens however if we're going for the song. yknow i was going to say bloodymary but thats literally wednesday on the show so maybe not LMAO

songs for Helios would be:

Me too from meghan trainer has the same bright and confident vibe helios usually is known for. Same goes for Just Dance by lady gaga.

Big boy is prob just bc Enid is jacked asf and its obvious during action scenes.

Im yours is the name but it has the same aesthetic of helios for some reason. Where she's supposed to come off as this angel -which is usually how wednesday described the character- before going through her own corruption arc. Its the audio that goes "nervous trip over my words, youre so pretty it hurts"

definitely Me too as the song in my mind :)

bonus songs for Imperial gold (helios x viper)

i wanna be yours by artic monkeys

love me by justin bieber (cant believe i'd be listening to him again but it honestly fits)

infinity by james young

Dandelions by ruth B

#streamer enid au #song thoughts #jdwicked

[arialerendeair]

Alec Lightwood Birthday Bash - Prompt Fill

From @to-the-stars-writing

I've seen a thousand amnesia fics, one or the other forgetting who they are, but what about a dual-amnesia fic where something happens on a mission or because of a spell and the others come in to find Magnus and Alec both temporarily forgot who they are, but they're still flirting like crazy with one another

~!~!~!~!~

When Alec woke up, there were three problems immediately apparent.

Number one, he was chained to the wall.  

Number two, he no longer had his stele, his bow, or seraph blades.

Number three, there was someone else across the cell and he looked like he was in even worse shape, if that was somehow even possible.  Which meant that he was going to be rescuing not just himself, but someone else too.  

"Hey," Alec hissed, glancing toward the ominous looking door.  "Hey, open your eyes.  I can't do this alone, and need your help."  

No movement, which meant that the other man was truly unconscious.  Alec frowned as he took the other man in properly - pants that, angels below, were they painted on?  A shirt that was... less fabric than it was supposed to be based on the slashes he could see, and a faint sheen of glitter on his eyes and hair could only mean one thing.  He was trapped in this cell with a warlock, for angels knew whatever reason.  

Alec looked around the cell again and tugged at his chains.  He had a little bit of give, which was more of a blessing than he would have expected, and his feet weren't chained to the ground.  Another quick check confirmed that he still had his boots, and even though the small knife he kept in the holster was gone (dammit, Jace was going to pout about that for hours, that had been a present), what he actually needed was not.  

Taking a second, Alec took a deep breath and focused - most of his runes had expired, but he could still hear the sound of guards much further down from their cell.  The only breathing he could hear belonged to him and the warlock nearby.  Which meant if he made a little bit of noise it wasn't going to bring anyone running.  He looked down at his boots and took a deep breath, testing all of his weight on the chains for a long moment.  

"Why do I get the feeling that you're about to do something devastatingly ridiculous that only shadowhunters know how to do?"

Alec looked up at the quiet voice and saw that the warlock was awake, relaxing.  At least he wouldn't have to be running around with an unconscious body.  That would have made things frustrating and unreasonably difficult.  "You have a better idea?  Magic, maybe?" he hissed back.  

The warlock hummed and shook his head.  "Unfortunately, however we ended up here and based on the..." he wrinkled his nose and licked his lips.  "Memory loss drought I can still taste the after effects of, my magic has either been drained, or I spent all of it.  I'm not without some skills, but nowhere near your own, I imagine."  

"I'll stand for you being able to walk," Alec muttered, ignoring the way that sparkling gold nail polish on his fingers shone on the faint light of the cell.  "You injured anywhere?"  

"Thankfully no."  A faint rustle.  "I am, however, not standing on the ground, so all of my weight has been on my shoulders and arms."  

Alec winced in sympathy.  That was going to mean he'd be able to walk but not do much in the way of fighting while his arms got their feeling back.  "I should be able to get us out of here," he reassured and looked up at his hands again.  "This might take me a couple of tries."  

He took a deep breath and lifted his legs carefully out in front of him.  Breathe in deep, and then move.  Shifting slowly with his grip against the chains, Alec brought his legs up further, bending himself almost in half to fumble with the secret latch on the side of his boots.  

"Darling, yoga instructors would envy that flexibility," the warlock praised.  "Not to mention that it does give one a wide variety of IDEAS, the nature of which is entirely inappropriate for our current predicament."  

Alec fought down the urge to snort, his arms starting to burn before he'd worked the lock pick half out of his boot.  He dropped his legs back down and breathed through the burning of his arms.  "Fuck, I need at least one more round."  

The warlock chuckled.  "Please feel free to do that as many times as you like.  I am quite enjoying the view.  I might enjoy a more practical demonstration later."  

Alec snorted.  "Pretty sure this is not the place to be flirting."  

"On the contrary, it's the perfect place to be flirting," the warlock correct.  "My name is Magnus, and I will be happy to take you out to dinner after this is over."  

"Your wife wouldn't like that," Alec said, his eyes drifting to the ring on Magnus' finger.  He took another deep breath and forced himself to relax, waiting for the burning to subside.  

Magnus looked at the ring on his finger, blinking in surprise.  "I've never had a wife, or a husband, mind you I am as equal opportunity as it comes.  Where did..." he flinched, his head aching.  "Ah, memory loss potion, right."  

Alec gave him a rueful grin.  "If it's any consolation at all, I would have said yes if you weren't attached."  He'd never met someone as beautiful as Magnus in all of his life.  If he'd had the chance, he probably never would have let someone like the warlock go.  "All right, let's try this again."  

Alec swung his legs up in an easy, determined motion and waited, breathing hard, for his fingers to bump against the lock pick.  It took three more tugs, but at last it was free in his fingertips and he could drop his feet again with a groan.  His whole body was sore and he was going to pay for doing that without runes tomorrow, that was for sure.  "All right, now to see if I remember how to do this..."

Magnus hummed.  "Where did a shadowhunter learn the art of lockpicking, I might wonder," he said, watching as the shadowhunter bit his lip in concentration, his eyes drawn back to the delicious sight of those lips reddening.  

"My siblings," Alec said, and that was enough explanation, apparently, for Magnus, who said nothing further as he finished getting himself completely unlocked, carefully resting the chains against the wall. 

Alec rubbed at his wrists and rotated them, looking down at himself before nodding.  He was pretty much unharmed, which was surprising, but he also suspected that whoever had given them both memory loss potions was going to be back soon.  He made his way over to the warlock and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.  

"Listen, I love being chained up," Magnus said with a squirm, his features twisting in pain.  "But I am going to be of no use to you if you don't get me on the ground soon."

"All right," Alec said and stepped in closer before an idea occurred and he flushed, clearing his throat.  There WAS a way that he could take Magnus' weight, so he could focus on the lock... "Don't stab me."  

"If I'm stabbing you, it's only going to be in decidedly sexy ways," Magnus shot back and he raised his eyebrows as the shadowhunter blushed even darker.  "While I am sure that my significant other does not approve, I can't help wanting to chase that blush with my tongue."  

"If you want to get out of here without possibly dying, I need you to be quiet for a second and just... let me get you free," Alec growled, closing his eyes to take a fortifying breath.  Magnus  was married, nothing could happen between the two of them and he was just doing this to help.  Reaching down, he grabbed Magnus' thighs and lifted him, easily.  

Magnus' eyes widened and he gasped.  "Uh, shadowhunter-"

"Alec," Alec muttered, getting Magnus' thighs situated around his waist, leaning in against him to keep him propped up against the wall to take his weight.  He felt Magnus cross his ankles behind his back and bit down the noise that he wanted to make as he leaned in, reaching up towards Magnus' hands.  

"If I didn't abhor infidelity with every fiber of my being..." Magnus breathed out, clenching his eyes shut as he had every inch of Alec, shadowhunter extraordinaire pressed against him from hips to arms.  "You would tempt a saint to sin, Alec.  Please hurry, or I'm going to embarrass us both."  

Alec bit down a groan and focused on the lock pick.  The first cuff, thankfully, was easy and he felt Magnus' relieved gasp, before his arm was flopped down, clearly numb.  He shifted and had Magnus throw the arm over his shoulder and moved his attention to the other.  "Don't worry, I'm not going to let you fall," he reassured as he worked at the lock.  

When Magnus didn't answer, Alec frowned and glanced down at him, but Magnus was biting down on his lip, his eyes screwed shut.  They were close enough that it would be so easy to...

"Alec," Magnus growled.  

Alec snapped his attention fully back to the lock and finally heard the click that signaled it would let him free.  He caught Magnus' other arm easily and slowly, with Magnus sliding down his body in a way that had the both of them groaning, low and desperate, until his feet were on the ground.  He reached up and carefully massaged at Magnus' shoulder, helping to work his circulation back to normal, before he moved to the other arm.  

Magnus was staring at him with unreadable eyes and Alec flushed, turning away from him.  "Are you all right?"  

Magnus nodded and tilted his head, studying Alec in confusion.  He looked down at his fingertips, a small blue flame sparking around his fingertips and he sighed in relief at the feel of his magic starting to return.  "Looks like I'll be back to fighting form soon."  

Alec nodded.  "We don't have too long, Magnus.  We need to get out of here and do it quickly.  If they were able to restrain the both of us - that means they caught us once and they could do it again."  

Magnus frowned and looked out past the cell door.  He closed his eyes and listened, a faint tendril of his magic reaching out.  "Two guards at the end of the hallway.  There's at least seven other prisoners.  More guards further along."  

"Do you know where we are?" Alec whispered, glancing out into the hallway.  They were on borrowed time, they needed a plan.  

Magnus opened his mouth to answer, but was nearly sent to his knees when pain hit his head, making him stumble.  Thankfully, Alec, who was the most chivalrous shadowhunter he had ever met in his life, caught him, easily, as though he'd been born to do it.  "Memory loss potion took that, which tells me we know where we are."  

"Right," Alec said with another nod.  "Do you know why they would have given me the potion too?"  

Magnus shook his head.  "I don't.  Nor do I know why they put us together when it seems most of the other prisoners are alone."  

"Well," Alec gave Magnus a shy smile.  "I'm glad that I'm not alone."  

Magnus swallowed, his heart giving a traitorous lurch.  He was married, he needed to remember that he was married and pretty boy shadowhunters were... were not meant for him.  "Me too, Alec.  Me too."  

Alec gave a nod and squared his shoulders.  "If you..." he hesitated, then held out his hand.  "If you were to take some of my energy, would it help recharge you?"

Magnus' eyes widened and he stared at the shadowhunter, who was looking at him calmly.  "I... yes, it would, but..." But no nephilim would willingly give their energy to a warlock like that.  

"We need each other," Alec said, his voice quiet but firm.  "And you need your magic to help the both of us get out of here, right?"  

"Right," Magnus agreed, his voice soft.  He reached out and took Alec's hand.  "I'll try to make sure it won't hurt."  With such different energies, such different power, that was going to take more effort than he could maybe afford but he would try.

Alec smiled.  "It's not going to hurt.  I know that you won't hurt me."  

Magnus swallowed, his thrice-cursed heart flipping in his chest again, and he reminded himself that he was married, that he could feel the power his partner had poured into the ring and took a second to blink away the tears before he closed his eyes and breathed in deep.  He reached out to establish the connection and gasped, Alec's soul, all his power, completely laid bare for him.  

His magic reached out greedily, drinking from the fountain of Alec's soul - but unlike any other session of sharing magic that he had ever done, there was no resistance, no hesitancy.  Alec trusted him, and trusted him not to go too far, and not to take too much.  Magnus wanted to sob that someone trusted him this easily, this much.  

Alec held onto Magnus' hand as tight as he dared, keeping him carefully supported as he felt Magnus draw more out of him, until abruptly, it was over.  Without thinking about it, Alec urged more of his power at Magnus, to take what he needed, because they were going to need it.  He felt Magnus muffle a noise into his shirt, but he held on tighter, until he finally felt Magnus steady himself, ready for their break out. 

Magnus sucked in a frantic breath. He wanted to say something, wanted to explain what it meant for them to be able to share energy, to share magic like this, because it was unheard of. It wasn't supposed to be this easy, and Alec's magic should have resisted him, but…

"Ready?" Alec asked, looking to the door. "I'm going to break down the door and we're going to race down the hallway. Grab what weapons we can and make our way towards an exit. Once we're there we can regroup."

Magnus shook himself and nodded, gathering magic around his palms. "That sounds like a plan. Try not to get yourself killed, shadowhunter."

Alec's lips quirked up. "Same to you, warlock." He winked at Magnus and turned back to the door. He took a deep breath and studied the door before he kicked at where the deadbolt was keeping the door shut, putting every ounce of his remaining strength rune into the blow.

The door burst open and he and Magnus were sprinting down the hallway.

By the time the Circle members, and Alec's had almost frozen at the sight of the scars on their necks, scars that he knew, that he recognized, that made his gut churn and fear choke his throat, turned to attack them, he'd grabbed a seraph blade off the table and skewered one of them while Magnus took care of the other. Relief surged through him at the sight of his stele and he grabbed it, activating runes as fast as he dared before he grabbed his bow. A quick survey of the room showed nothing else and he looked to Magnus, who was staring down at the shadowhunter in front of him in confusion.

"Magnus?" Alec hissed, keeping his voice down. "We have to keep moving, they're going to know we broke out soon?"

Magnus knelt down and touched the ring that was around the dead shadowhunter's neck. A jolt of familiarity went through him and he tugged it off, the chain breaking in an easy motion. He lifted it up and looked at the ring on his finger. They were clearly a matched pair. What was a circle member doing with it?

"What's that?" Alec asked, stepping closer. The sight of the ring had his head throbbing in pain and he nearly stumbled, frowning. "I, fuck, my head, Magnus what is that?"

Magnus' eyes widened and he looked over at Alec, then back to the ring. Alec's fingers were white-knuckled with his hold on the table, and on his ring finger was a very, very obvious tan line. A tan line that matched the ring in his palm. "Alec…" he trailed off and looked at the ring before handing it to him, his hand shaking. "You're… look at your hand. You're missing a ring."

Alec knew they needed to get the hell out of here, they didn't have time for this, but… there was no rune on his hand, which meant that he didn't have the wedded union rune on his chest either, so had he… worn a ring? His grit his teeth through the surging pain and took the ring from Magnus, locking his knees as he struggled to breathe through the pain. "This is part of what I forgot," he hissed, looking up at Magnus.

Magnus stepped in closer and grabbed the ring from Alec, shoving the ring onto his finger. "Sometimes you can trigger memories by putting something back into its proper-"

Alec didn't hear the rest of the words, it was like the world in front of him melted away. Magnus was smiling at him, his eyes bright and golden in a tuxedo with flowers all around them. Music was playing softly and Alec wanted, needed to kiss him with everything that he was. It was a perfect moment, Magnus' hands carefully cupping his as they traded rings and it was slid into place where it would always-

"Alec!" Magnus hissed.

Alec blinked himself back to where they were, captured, with more hostages and then down at his hand that was cupped in Magnus'. Their rings matched, and his eyes widened. He lifted his eyes to Magnus, wide and shocked. "Is that, Magnus, I…"

Magnus grinned, bright and excited. "Apparently I don't need to feel badly about flirting with you now, shadowhunter. My magic knows that ring, even if I do not, and it belongs right where it is."

Hope and joy surged through Alec and he yanked Magnus into his arms, squeezing him tightly, relief that he wasn't even sure he should be feeling making him weak. "We'll talk about this later," he promised, his eyes darting to the other cells. "First we have some cells to open and hostages to free."

Magnus' eyes were bright and angry. "And some circle members to take care of."

Alec nodded and Magnus turned towards the cells, but Alec grabbed his wrist, tugging him back. He dropped his eyes to Magnus' lips. He, he knew they'd kissed, he could almost see it in his mind's eye, but he couldn't remember what it felt like, how it felt to kiss Magnus. "I, Magnus…"

"Come here," Magnus ordered, yanking Alec down by the collar to seal their lips together. He didn't let himself get lost in how easily Alec responded to the kiss, nor did he pin the shadowhunter back against the wall. Instead he pulled back and grinned, winking again. "Now come on, we've got a job to do."

Alec swallowed and nodded, following Magnus back into the cells.

~!~

Hours later, Alec and Magnus were sitting side by side, holding hands tightly as they faced a barrage of questions from their friends and family.

"So let me get this straight," Jace said, rubbing at his temple. "You don't remember the fact that you're married?"

"Nope!" Alec said happily, even as he grinned at Magnus, who grinned right back at him. "Think we're both glad of it."

Catarina sighed. "You're sure it's an Agribar memory loss potion, Magnus?"

Magnus turned to her and smiled. "I am. I can taste it. Which means this particular brand of memory loss will wear off in about twenty-four to forty-eight hours."

"Why do you two look so happy about this?" Isabelle asked, her eyes narrowing suspiciously. "I thought you woke up and didn't know who each other were."

"We did," Alec said, squeezing Magnus' hand again in apology. "But we uh, we figured it out as we were escaping. And now we're both exhausted and want to go home." He shrugged. "I can't go back to work until I can remember things again."

Magnus gave Catarina another winning smile. "And I certainly can't return to my High Warlock duties until I'm sure that I am operating at full strength."

Jace frowned and scowled at both of them. "Why do I get the feeling I'm missing something here?"

Isabelle's eyes widened and glanced between them and she started laughing. "Oh you two are unsubtle."

Alec shrugged. "Seems like a good opportunity."

"A good opportunity for what?" Jace pressed. "Are you both going to be okay?"

Alec cleared his throat. "I'll be back in two days, but I'm going to spend that time recovering with Magnus. I have a lot to remember." He gave Magnus a look and hoped that his blush wasn't showing too badly.

Jace's eyes widened and he groaned. "Oh fucking, fuck you. This is payback for Book Club, isn't it?"

Alec raised both of his eyebrows at Jace. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I am going to kick your ass in training so hard when you're back," Jace threatened, narrowing his eyes at Alec. "Enjoy your days off while you have them."

Catarina watched the shadowhunters stalk off, amused, before turning back to Magnus and Alec, who were still holding hands. "Can I make you a portal home?"

"That would be lovely, Catarina," Magnus agreed, his shoulders relaxing.

With a twist of her fingers, it was there, and Magnus wasted no time tugging both he and Alec through the portal, looking up at his shadowhunter. "We seem to have a unique opportunity in front of us, Alexander."

Alec raised his eyebrows, biting down a smirk.  “Oh?”  

Magnus licked his lips and started to gently urge Alec back to the bedroom.  “Unless you are too tired, of course, but I have no doubt had the chance to explore every inch of you thoroughly as is my right as your loving husband…” 

Alec snorted and rolled his eyes.  “I’m sure… where is this leading.”  

“Well, now I have the chance to explore you again for the first time ever.  If you would be interested in indulging me?” Magnus paused, waiting.  

Alec reached out to grab Magnus by the belt and tumbled the both of them to the bed, tugging Magnus in for another deep kiss, groaning against his lips.  

“That was graceful,” Magnus whispered.  

“Shadowhunter,” Alec said, smirking as he pulled Magnus down for another kiss.  

And later, when Alec woke curled in Magnus’ arms, all of his memories exactly where they should be, he sighed in relief and pressed in even closer, humming happily as Magnus’ fingers sank into his hair.  “Love you,” he mumbled.  

“I love you too, my Alexander,” Magnus breathed.  “Even when I have no memory of you, you are my everything.”  

Alec grinned and rolled Magnus back into the sheets again.  “Someone is angling to start our mutual day off right.”  

“Of course,” Magnus said with a challenging smirk.  “Now, why don’t you show me what you know how to do with all of those memories and experience of yours you have back now, hm?” 

“My pleasure.”  

#Aria Posts #Malec #Alec Lightwood Birthday Bash #ALBB2022 #Alec Lightwood #BAMF Alec Lightwood #BAMF Magnus Bane #Temporary Memory Loss #Flirting #These two are ridiculous and I love them so much

[randomvarious]

Today's mix:

Global Underground 014: Hong Kong by John Digweed 1999 Progressive House / Progressive Trance

So, I guess I'm just ping-ponging back and forth between Global Underground mixes by Sasha and Global Underground mixes by John Digweed now. Back when these guys teamed up in the past to do things like Northern Exposure, it yielded some absolute magic, but when they're doing their own separate mixes for Global Underground, I haven't found their output nearly as satisfying. Many would disagree with me on this, though 😅.

But this Digweed double-disc is pretty frickin' good, in my estimation. And what's a little surprising about it to me, in particular, is that I actually really like the first disc—the progressive house one—a lot more than the second disc—the progressive trance one. I've definitely spieled about the late 90s era of progressive house before and how I find it to be largely boring, and the past two mixes that I've dug into from both Sasha and Digweed have much acclaimed progressive house discs on them that seem to cement my view even further.

And yet, the progressive house disc from this set really clicked with me. Diggers gets into a ~deep zone~ in the middle that I don't really jibe with, but a lot of the selections that surround that part are nothing short of excellent. The opener is this sleek and classy, talkbox-infused mix of Underworld's "Cups," by Manchester trio Salt City Orchestra, that sounds like it belongs in some kind of nocturnal-set Mercedes-Benz ad; Leiva's "Something for the Soul" has this fantastically hazy and dubby lead synth to it; Luzon brings in some old world flavoring with his sampling of a late 80s tune by Israeli world music-pop star Ofra Haza in "The Baguio Track;" and then the disc closes with a dark, brooding, and ominous monster from London's Medway, with "Flanker," a song whose constant synth chirps have a way of sounding like an approaching swarm of killer hornets who have their stingers at the ready 😧.

A good amount to enjoy in the second disc here too, especially in its latter half. Digweed runs back-to-back with two different mixes by The Netherlands' Lucien Foort, aka Funk Function; first with Science Dept.'s "Persuasion," which has a bit of an aquatic vibe to it, thanks to a catchy lead synth melody that sounds like rapid, whimsical flute stabs; and then with something smooth in Johan's "Crash." And immediately following that pair is a remix of Dutchman Hole in One's "Amrad in the 7th Phase" by the legendary Ferry Corsten, which features a great, sudden infusion of whistling synths 😌.

Still though, I didn't find this second disc to be as entertaining or cohesive or consistent as the first one. And while people rave about both of these CDs and consider the whole package to be one of the greatest commercial DJ mix releases of all time, I definitely disagree. But out of the trio of GU Digweed mixes I've now ventured into, this one might be my favorite, overall, with Sydney second, and Los Angeles definitely a distant third.

Listen to CD1 here. Listen to CD2 here.

Highlights:

CD1:

Underworld - "Cups (Salt City Orchestra Mix)" A.D.N.Y. Presents Leiva - "Something for the Soul" LSG - "Into Deep (Medway Remix)" Luzon - "The Baguio Track" Jean Phillippe Aviance - "Useless" Medway - "Flanker"

CD2:

Breeder - "Sputnik (New York FM Mix)" Science Dept. - "Persuasion (Funk Function Future Mix)" Johan - "Crash (Funk Function Groove Mix)" Hole In One - "Amrad in the 7th Phase (Ferr's Subliminal Recut)" Bedrock - "Heaven Scent (Evolution Unreleased Mix)"

#progressive house #house #house music #progressive trance #trance #dance #dance music #electronic #electronic music #music #90s #90s music #90's #90's music

[tetsunabouquet]

Heir To The Lands Chapter 7

Evidence Masterpost

Livvy felt thrilled, knowing she had finally found the Seelie Court. She kept clear eye of any guards walking around, too paranoid about faeries being able to sense her ghostly presence. She walked ever so slowly, darting behind anything at the slightest of sounds. Slowly, she inched closer to a gate where a guard was flirting with some kind of nixie who was swimming in the glorious, grande fountain of the garden. She thanked the Angel as she slid inside the castle, the marble walls having a faint glow that reminds Livvy of glow in the dark sticks. She didn't knew where she should go, but she figured the Shadowhunter the Seelie Queen was keeping was kept secluded away deep in the castle. Livvy, for the maniest time about now, thought she could kill for a compass rune about now. The maze like place would certainly be less confusing. She slid past walls, crept past hallways and doors. Thankfully she was a ghost, because she certainly would have tripped over the many vines that seemed to lead to some kind of bathroom section as evidenced by the various inhumanly smelling perfumated scents and the thin cloud of steam the direction was leading into. Livvy certainly would have loved to explore this place, alive, and without the fair folk. That bathing place certainly seemed to be an interesting idea, and the flowery decor was quite nice. She could not fault the Seelie Queen's taste, but that might be the only compliment you could give this woman, if the tales about her and the tale of the two goblins were to be believed. Livvy, however, felt something dark and sticky in the atmosphere, which totally ruined the cute vibe the interior was giving her. It was an ominous pressure in the air, that kept Livvy on her intangible toes. She came across a staircase downstairs almost by luck, and she thanked the Angel once more as she slowly floated down, her heart pounding with excitement that she might have found the dungeons. As she reached the groundfloor of the dungeons she had indeed had found, she could vague noises. People, who were talking, She, out of habit, tiptoed across the room and peeped around the corner. There she could see two figures. One goblin with an unusual shade of pink skin was talking animated to a prisoner who she was feeding some Faerie fruit. The man, no boy, really, as he wasn't that old yet, accepted the Faerie feeding him, Livvy's trained eyes could see he didn't distrust the goblin, even though he seemed clearly miserable to be chained up. Livvy was betting this pink goblin to be the sister smitten with the boy. He seemed quite familiar to Livvy, and as she thought hard, she couldn't help but think he looked a bit similar to Perfect Diego. Livvy's eyes widened with alarm, as she realized she was staring at Jaime Rosales.

Emma breathed deeply, the poison had been treated and she was resting. The group, in the meantime was torn in a discussion at what to do. It was clear, the cat was out of the bag. They had found Kit, but that left the following questions. Who had sent the hunters, and what were they planning? "Obviously, the Seelie Queen is the most logical suspect at this point, but we have no evidence against her." Jules stated, anger shimmering in his eyes as he remembered the manipulative woman. "Can't we just start an official investigation against her? Jaime has been missing for nearly a year, " Dru asked, her hands clenching into fists as the ache in heart pounded with worry, the ache that had been there ever since she heard he went missing. "I know, but it's not so easy. Kieran already stated the peace between him and the Queen is quite uneasy, and there are plenty of people in his Court who detest the new bond they have with the Clave. This is an incredibly tense political situation where we cannot act without evidence." Jules looked like he could punch someone. "I think it would be wise for Dru to go back to the Academy. I don't think they have spies there and will notice she went back before she was supposed to. You should inform your Headmaster about what happened. So the Clave is prepared for any escalation." Tessa said, friendly. Dru grumbled, but she nodded. If there would be future attacks on the Clave in Exile's adress, it might just be dangerous with how unstable their society was right now. As a soldier, she knew where she ought to be.

#twp #the wicked powers #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #shadowhunters #shadowhunter chronicles #livvy blackthorn #jaime rosales #jules blackthorn #julian blackthorn #emma carstairs #tessa herondale #tessa gray #tessa carstairs #dru blackthorn #the seelie queen #pink goblin

[scary-movies-on-netflix]

THE OUTWATERS (2022)

Hello, readers.  I’ve been gone for (quite) awhile, but I have returned to bless you with more movie reviews.  Today’s selection is “The Outwaters,” an entry into the found footage subgenre.  Certain people are raving about this, yet others call it hot trash.  Which is correct? I will render, once and for all, the objectively correct judgment.*

We start off with a 911 call, where the dispatcher listens to people yelling and screaming.  We then, I presume, jump back into the past, where we spend a good thirty-plus minutes setting up our characters.  (The conceit is that we’ve found the memory cards of some young folk who were lost in the desert a few years previously.)  We have Main Guy, who mostly holds the camera and mike, his brother, Singer Woman, and Ange.  They are heading into the desert to film Singer’s latest smash music video, which will brilliantly feature her walking around barefoot in the desert.  Everyone is mostly bland and forgettable, but at least they’re not assholes, as is far too common in these movies.

Anywho, the first day Main Guy sees an axe sticking out of the sand, which is sort of creepy.  That night they hear strange booming thunder.  Main Guy walks around, shining a tiny little light at things in the dark, which is annoying for the viewer because we’re not really seeing anything, just parts of things.  He ends up seeing some flashing lights in the sky.  Shit!  The next day Main Guy films Singer doing her singing thing.  His shots are very close in, almost no wide angles, which will be extremely annoying later on, because (again) we’re only seeing parts of things.  That night the booming thunder returns, and Main Guy walks off, except this time he sees the silhouette of a guy holding that same axe from earlier!  Main Guy turns to flee, but we hear footsteps and a thud and can only assume that he has been axed in the head, as he will spend the rest of the movie in a dazed and confused state.  He returns to the camp just in time to hear slashing around the girls’ tent and catch a glimpse of them running off into the desert.  He then spends three minutes hiding in some bushes as we listen to the ladies scream in pain and terror.  We don’t see anything at all, just a black screen, except at the end where he wanders off and encounters Ange, whom he promptly abandons.

The next day he’s all alone, except for the mounds of red flesh dotting the area.  Oh, and the red worm creatures.  There are red worm creatures that shriek and slither away from him.  Mind you, at this point there are about forty minutes left in the movie, and we spend that time with Main Guy as he repeats a loop of horror over the next few days.  That first day he encounters the worm monsters and loses his clothes.  That night ends with him in some kind of watery hell with a pulsing beat, and he’s spit out through a glowing slit…so I’m pretty sure he’s being reborn.  A lot happens the next day.  He sees himself and his friends walking through the desert and he chases a bloody version of Singer.  Highlights of that night include finding a bloody Ange, visiting his mom’s house, flying on a bloody plane, and encountering a monster!  Shit!  Well, I can only assume it’s a monster, since we’re only blessed with a tiny little beam of light, so we see bits and pieces of some sort of reptilian thing.  It certainly sounds monstrous, so there’s that.  He goes back to the tent, where he and Ange are attacked by tentacles, but, again, we have only a tiny little light.  He goes back outside, where he approaches the same bloody axe from earlier, but an ominous voice says, “SHOW THEM,” and he’s plunged back into the water.  We end up staring at something like a starfield while an angelic choir sings, but he’s shoved back through the slit of light into the dark desert.

Main Guy has landed at a sign stating, “Warning” and “Restricted,” and he sees an old gas mask.  He encounters himself holding an axe.  Daylight comes, and he sees the severed heads of his friends planted atop posts.  He wanders off and finds a fossilized shark tooth, which is neat!  Except that he uses the tooth to cut off his own penis and then disembowel himself.  He finally puts down the camera and walks away, lifting up his hands to a plane flying overhead.  THE END.

This was…fine.  It’s a bit above average when considering other found footage movies from the past few years.  I don’t think it’s as good as all the reviewers are ranting.  People go into the desert, encounter horrors.  This is either about some type of haunted location, or, give me a moment, the kids are suffering from some type of delusion or drug-induced episode and kill each other.  In any case, the main conceit of these films (i.e. found footage horror) is that we only know as much as the protagonist with the camera.  We, the audience, are fine with that because there’s an internal narrative logic.  This film, “The Outwaters,” breaks down along those lines because the night time scenes are mostly illuminated with a tiny little light with an extremely narrow beam, so we barely see anything.  However, sometimes the same flashlight is being used with a very wide beam, so we see everything!  This is extremely annoying because there’s no narrative reason to switch the beams of light, except to limit what the audience is seeing at that moment. This is breaking the contract between the film and the audience, where we accept the limited perspective of the narrator, so long as the limitation is consistent.  To make up for this, I suppose the sound design is good.

Currently streaming all over.

*Obviously!

#the outwaters #outwaters #found footage #horror #horror movie #movie review #2022 #average

[ravetaper]

CAPOZZI Live Set December 2022 Downtown LA

This is a 68-minute audio recording of Capozzi live set 12-3-2022 in Downtown LA. The event took place at 1720 E. 16th Street in Los Angeles. The set started at 11:15 pm.

Rave Tapes · CAPOZZI Live Set December 2022 Downtown LA

YES!! I got it! I got a recording of Jordan Capozzi playing an intimate warehouse in my hometown of Los Angeles! 1720 is a smallish concert venue situated on a dark, grimy corner in LA's warehouse district. It was what I imagined to be an ideal venue to see Capozzi. The atmosphere outside was ominous but thrilling, just like Capozi's music.

I wasn't sure how the recording would come out. My recent recordings from Exchange LA – one of the city's premier EDM venues – sound rough. The acoustics in that room are boom-y, and the sound system is hit or miss. Sometimes it's tuned nicely, sometimes it sounds off. Same with the Hollywood Palladium. Bigger names play that spot, but the sound system always seems underpowered. Recordings from those two venues are often barely passable.

The sound at 1720, on the other hand, was good! Loud but clean with plenty of low end. It's not a massive venue, so getting to the sweet spot between the hanging speakers wasn't a problem. The result is a recording that's too good not to share.

The crowd was lively af. Recurring screams, hoots, and whoop-whoop disco calls expressed the crowd's overflowing excitement.

The show itself was blissful. It proved that Capozzi's set at EDC LV 2022 was not a fluke. This girl has serious talent. While her mixing skills are solid (more on this later), she really shines in selecting tracks.

There are several factors that define a good dj. The main criteria include technical skill, mastery of the gear, knowledge of the music, and ability to read a crowd. In reality, those elements aren't too hard to learn. Modern dj gear can automatically match beats. Countless YouTube videos teach novices how to transition from one track to another. But the one skill that can't be taught – is selection, knowing which tracks to play, in which order.

The bass house field is crowded with players. Some have been around for years and have significant followings. I've listened to quite a few. Many are good, very good. Capozzi belongs in the top echelon of bass house deejays. I say this because Capozzi's track selections are extraordinary.

The main criterion for my fandom is whether a dj's selections move me. Do the songs evoke some kind of emotional response, or not? Is there something in the track that is sonically interesting? It could be a compelling melody, a creative use of effects, a hypnotic pattern of chords, inspired lyrics and vocals, etc.

I have an easy litmus test. If I find myself saying numerous times during a set "holy crap I can't believe what I am hearing; this is one of the coolest things I have ever heard!" then I know it's a good set and I like the dj. Pretty simple. However, lots of sets by big dj's are mixed – they have good parts as well as parts that drag on a bit, or just don't feel inspired. They don't move me.

For some reason, Capozzi's selections push all my buttons. Yes, the tracks have that medium tempo and shuffle groove I love. But more importantly, there's soul in the selections. There's heart, there's funk, there's something unique that makes each track memorable. There are also no "filler" tracks in Capozzi sets. Each track she plays brings something juicy to the table.

And I should note here that this music is straight up bass house – the sub-genre to which I've recently become addicted.

For me, bass house represents a perfect culmination of EDM's best musical elements. It has a moderate tempo, clocking in around 126 beats per minute. Not too fast, not too slow. The rhythms are often syncopated with "swing" or "shuffle" patterns – giving them an upbeat and danceable groove. The synth-heavy instrumentation is reminiscent of techno. Rarely will congas, pianos, or rhythm guitars be heard – the sounds of traditional house music. Bass house composition is minimalist yet compelling. Naturally, rumbling sub-bass is ever-present. Good bass house tracks can be incredibly intoxicating.

Good bass house tracks. That's the key. Not all dj's are as skilled at picking good bass house tracks. And that's exactly where Capozzi excels.

Capozzi plays a track with the lyric: "rate...my...selection!"

Sure. I'll rate your selection. This one was 10/10, again!

Purists will appreciate how Capozzi matches beats manually, by ear, the old-fashioned way. I know this because I can hear it in the mixes.

Personally, I am ambivalent about sync. I see nothing wrong with using technology to make the dj's job easier. But some old-timers insist beat matching must be done manually to be considered a "real dj".

Right or wrong, those traditionalists would be satisfied with Capozzi's methods. Not every mix is perfect, but to old school heads, that's perfectly ok. The issue isn't getting out of sync. That happens to everyone who beat-matches manually. The issue is how a dj handles it, how the dj gets back into sync. Capozzi mixes like a long-time veteran – she manipulates the tempo faders and nudges the jog wheels to align the beats, or accelerates the transition into the new track. Standard dj procedure, really. No big deal. However, I chuckle to myself because I'm amused (and amazed) that Capozzi chooses to mix the traditional way. It's a sign of chutzpah and tenacity. I love it.

But damn, this set was so fun, so satisfying. I had perma-grin from start to finish. Several times I pinched myself as I realized how amazing it felt to be at a Capozzi show, live and in person.

I haven't felt this much enthusiasm for an artist for a long time. It reminds me of the fanaticism of Grateful Dead followers, some of the most diehard fans. Like them, I hung on to every note, curious to know which song was coming next. Certain songs have become recognizable, signature tracks. Like a committed Deadhead, I cheered when I heard familiar tracks fading in:

All Eyes on Me by Capozzi

Selection by No Signe

Kick a Hole in the Speaker by Capozzi

I'm glad I made the effort to get this one. I already know I will savor this recording for a long time. I must have listened to the Capozzi EDC 2022 set 50 times. I've been craving new material. This provides the fix I needed.

I'm stressing about when the next show will be. Countdown NYE wasn't in my plans. The venue is far out of the way, it's in a sketchy neighborhood, it gets packed, and lots of other reasons. I also usually spend new years eve with family. But. Capozzi. Is. Playing. Uggh! Still not sure what I'm going to do for that one.

Well, at least I have something to keep me satiated for a moment. I'm sure I will play the crap out of this set, blasting it at home and in the car. I just hope it doesn't take me 6 months to make it to another Capozzi set.

Buy Capozzi music on Beatport!

Follow Capozzi on Instagram!

Follow Capozzi on Spotify!

Here are some not-great images from the show:

Official Insomniac flyer:

#capozzi #live set #bass house #2022 #los angeles #1720 #rave tapes

[that-one-girl2020]

The Lonely Angel

A/N: This is pretty platonic, and the idea is inspired by another story on AO3, it’s great so I definitely recommend it. I don’t post often and this is the first story I’ve posted on here in a long time so hope you like it!

P.s.- Sorry if the formatting is a little weird, I copy and pasted from google docs...

An Enigma of Broken Wings by Catlorde

The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS cautiously. Once more, the TARDIS had taken him somewhere he hadn’t been meaning to go, in fact, he was trying to take Donna to an alien market that he had once gone to. Instead, he poked his head out to find the TARDIS parked in the middle of a cemetery on Earth, around the same time that he had picked Donna up from if he was correct.

“Unless there’s another planet identical to Earth, I’m pretty sure we’re not on Kalla-whats-it,” Donna remarked as she followed behind him and they both looked around curiously.

“Uh, no, this is Earth, United States, Michigan, 2008 to be exact,” He tugged at his ear as he stuffed one hand in his jacket sheepishly.

“What are we doing here then? Or are you just that bad of a driver?” The redhead snipped at him and he rolled his eyes and huffed.

“I am the best driver around, I’ll have you know,” he snarked right back as they began strolling around curiously. “I’m not sure why we’re here but there’s no harm in looking around.”

The continued looking around quietly, looking for anything out of the normal that would have drawn the TARDIS and the Doctor there but there wasn’t anything out of place that they could find, no people, no signs of alien life or events. That was, until Donna took notice of a particular statue stationed in the center of the cemetery. “That statue sure is pretty, too bad it’s so run down,” Donna remarked as she gestured to said statue. “It’s a little sad though.”

At the center of all the gravestones, there was what seemed like a stone bench with a statue of an angel kneeled beside it, it’s arms resting on the bench with her head buried in its arms, its wings sprawled gracefully behind her and donned in a simple white dress that clung to her form scarily realistically. Like Donna had said, the statue was beautiful despite the obvious aging, the stone worn down, turning green from weather, plants starting to creep up her legs and dress, and stone chipped in some places. The only odd thing about it was the old radio resting at her feet, in a similar state as the statue itself.

At first, the Doctor didn’t think anything of it as they slowly approached the statue to get a better look at it. However, the Doctor pulled Donna to a stop when they saw a chipmunk climb up the stone and approach the bare arm of the statue and gently nudge it with its nose, as if the statue would come to life and pet it. Despite the gentleness of the scene, the only thing that happened was the chipmunk disappearing before their eyes.

“Donna, do not blink, do not look away from the statue, don’t touch it, and don’t blink,” The Doctor ordered sternly as he pulled out his sonic screwdriver to scan the statue quickly, not looking away for a moment.

“What, why? What is it?” Donna questioned, a hint of panic in her voice.

“Don’t look away from it,” the Doctor ordered once more when he noticed Donna turn to question him.

“Why? What is it?!” Donna asked once more, this time not moving her gaze away from the statue.

“A Weeping Angel,” the Doctor answered her solemnly as he continued to scan the angel and the stone she was sprawled against.

“Okay, and what is a Weeping Angel?” Donna fished for more answers, becoming irritated with the short responses.

“The kindest assassins in the universe. A Weeping Angel doesn’t just outright kill you, they send you back to the past to live out your life and consume the years that you should have had in the present, that’s what happened to the chipmunk,” The Doctor explained distractedly.

“And why can’t I look away from it?”

“Because they have the most solid defences in the universe as well. They’re quantum locked, as soon as they fall under the gaze of any living thing, they turn to stone, because you can’t kill a stone and a stone can’t kill you. But then you blink, you look away, and yes it can,” The Doctor finished ominously and the two were silent for a minute as Donna absorbed the information and the Doctor finished scanning the statue and looking around the area. “I don’t get it though, Angels usually hunt in groups, even if it's just a couple, like four or so. But this one is alone, there isn’t another Angel anywhere in the city, let alone the state. And the plants around it signify that it hasn’t moved in years, I’d say ten at the least, and erosion suggests that it hasn’t had significant food in the same amount of time.” The Doctor furrowed his brow as his thoughts raced, trying to figure out why the Angel was here. It wasn’t trapped, it wasn’t well fed, it wasn’t even in an area where it had access to people. “One thing is for sure though, this has to be the loneliest creature I have ever come across.” The Doctor continued to explain without being prompted, “Weeping Angels, even in groups, are still the loneliest creatures in the universe since they can’t even look at each other or they’ll turn to stone, freeze. However, Angels have a weak telepathic connection, allowing them to communicate on some level, which is why they stay in groups. But this one is by itself.”

The two of them frowned as they looked at the Angel, still tense but slowly relaxing as they realized that the Angel hadn’t moved even when the both of them had scanned the area to look for other Angels. “Poor thing, what do we do then?” Donna asked with empathy clear in her voice.

“I’m not sure, if we touch it, we risk being sent back to the past, without the TARDIS, leaving us trapped, but we can’t just leave it here,” The Doctor frowned thoughtfully.

The two of them blinked however when the radio flickered to life without either of them having touched it. There was static as the radio seemed to adjust before the sound of a young woman’s voice came through, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

The Doctor and Donna blinked in shock at the sound of the voice before the Doctor questioned, “Who are we speaking to?”

There was a pause as the voice seemed to think for a moment, “Me, I think.”

“Whose voice are you using?” The Doctor asked, a little bit of anger in his voice as he knew somewhat that the Angel wouldn’t have been able to use the voice without spending time around said person.

The voice paused once more, “I think it was mine.” The Doctor blinked in shock as Donna frowned, confused.

“What do you mean?” Donna asked softly, concerned for the statue she held empathy for.

“I used to draw a lot, I think. I saw an angel statue once, in the park near my house, and I drew it. I stared at it so long, my eyes started to hurt. I got dizzy and fell. It was late. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t move. Then I was stone,” The woman explained, the sadness in her voice obvious as she tried to remember the events. The Doctor and Donna’s hearts clenched painfully as they realized that this was once a woman with a life and a family. “The other one didn’t like me. She didn’t like that I didn’t send them back. She and the others left. I stayed.”

“What happened to your family,” The Doctor asked softly, even though he could figure out what happened.

“They were sad. They left too. They took everything but this stone. They left this stone here. Animals keep me company. They’re kind. They feed me when I’m hungry.”

The Doctor nodded as that explained what had happened with the chipmunk earlier. He thought it odd that an animal would approach a Weeping Angel so willingly. He went around to the other side of the bench where there was an inscription, what they had thought was a bench, was actually a grave.

“In Loving Memory of…

(Your Full Name)

Daughter

Sister

May 8th, 1976-October 20th, 1998

“Life is more than just what we see…” ~(Y/n)”

He looked down sadly as he realized this was the woman’s own grave and she probably didn’t even realize it. She sounded like an amazing woman, it was difficult to think that a woman he would have liked to meet was now reduced to a statue living, no, existing off the kindness of the animals around her.

Donna joined him on the other side of the stone and gasped softly as she came to the same realization, “Your name was(Y/n)?”

There was another pause as the Angel thought for a moment, trying to remember, “I… think so.”

“It’s a beautiful name,” The Doctor remarked softly as they gazed down at the Weeping Angel.

“Is it? I think I liked it too,” the woman replied thoughtfully. It was sad for Donna and the Doctor, that this woman was once living a bright and happy life, and now she could barely remember it.

“Doctor, we can’t just leave her here,” Donna told him softly and he agreed silently even though he had no idea what they would do. He was reluctant to bring the Angel into the TARDIS as it would be an eternal food source for the statue. However, he couldn’t leave the once human woman here to slowly waste away as stone.

As if knowing his thoughts, the woman spoke once more, “It’s okay, you can leave me here, the animals are kind to me,” She spoke simply as if that was all she truly needed, which made the Doctor’s hearts clench even tighter. He knew what it was like to be by oneself. That deep sense of loneliness that settled into your soul and wasn’t easily shaken.

That just solidified his decision, “You can come with us. The TARDIS can make a room for you and we can visit you everyday. You don’t have to be lonely anymore,” The Doctor offered kindly.

At that moment, both Donna and the Doctor blinked, and in that split second, the Angel turned their head to look up at them in shock, which they returned. The Angel had her hair tied up in the same fashion as any other Weeping Angel, a little more softly so that some hair could frame her features, but her face was significantly different. Instead of the sharp teeth and frightening snarl that he expected, they were instead greeted by soft features and a kind face. She was beautiful. “Really?” She questioned innocently.

Neither of them responded for a moment, shocked by the beauty of the statue before them. After shaking themselves from their surprise, the Doctor answered her innocent question, “Of course. You’ve spent enough time by yourself.” After a moment of hesitation, the Doctor looked away, offering his hand to the statue in a show of trust, which Donna followed. For a minute, the Doctor waited, he was about to take his hand back when another hand slid into his. It was a strange feeling. A living hand of stone that wasn’t quite stone at the moment. When he knew she was standing, he began walking back to the TARDIS, Donna walking alongside him, opposite the hand that was holding the Angel’s, (Y/n)’s. It was a strange walk back, both having to fight the urge to look back at the Angel as it would halt their progress.

Once the trio got to the TARDIS, the Doctor hesitated for a moment before opening the door to his most precious belonging. Then, he tightened the hold he had on the Angel’s hand as a reminder of what he was doing and why. This woman had been alone long enough. He led the woman down the hall that the TARDIS lit for them, leading them to a new room that neither the Doctor or Donna had seen before. The Doctor opened the door to what looked like the outdoors, a large field of long grass and wildflowers, in the distance, they could see a lake in the distance with a willow tree next to it and a forest beyond it. It was a beautiful setting that fit the Angel behind them.

The both of them closed their eyes to let the Angel ahead of them to familiarize herself with her new home. “Thank you,” the Woman breathed softly in awe and the two opened their eyes. The Angel had set the old radio she had carried with her down at her feet as she had wandered a few meters into the field, now frozen in a standing position, her head tilted back in the light as she soaked in the sky and the artificial sun pleasantly. The Doctor could feel the slow yet steady stream of energy the sun gave off as the Angel revitalized before their eyes, the signs of weather and corrosion fading away. She was even more beautiful now than when they had first seen her, now that she was whole and they could see her face. Unlike Weeping Angels who were Angels their entire existence, (Y/n) was a light grey, unlike the ominous dark grey of other Weeping Angels.

“We’ll leave you to explore, the TARDIS will transmit you to wherever we are in the TARDIS if you want to talk,” The Doctor told her kindly and as he blinked, she turned to look at him with a smile that warmed his hearts, glad he made the decision that he did.

“Thank you,” She repeated once more.

The two left the room, closing the door behind them as they returned to the console room. After a moment, Donna spoke, a content tone to her voice, “We did good today, eh, Spaceman.” His hands rested comfortably in his pockets as he thought back to the kind Angel they now housed on the TARDIS. “Life is more than just what we see…”

“Yeah. Yeah, we did.”

The End

#doctor who x reader #david tennant x reader #10th doctor x reader #doctor who #10th doctor #doctor x reader #david tennant #barty crouch jr x reader #matt smith x reader #weeping angels #don’t blink #donna noble #reader insert #doctor who oneshot

[absolutelyfizzing]

angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.  

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

#warren x reader #warren worthington x reader #warren worthington imagine #warren worthington iii #warren worthington the third #warren worthington iii x reader #warren worthington fluff #warren fluff #warren imagine #x men #x-men #x men imagine #x-men imagine #x-men x reader #x men x reader #x men apocalypse #x-men apocalypse #ben hardy #ben hardy fluff #angst

[arialerendeair]

I posted 2,570 times in 2022

That's 1,012 more posts than 2021!

106 posts created (4%)

2,464 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cenedrariva

@cuubism

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I tagged 1,173 of my posts in 2022

#dreamling - 618 posts

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Longest Tag: 136 characters

#but i really do believe people need to understand it’s not loving the source media as much as it is loving the relatability of the media

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Challenge Mode

50,000 words.

48 Hours.

Starting now.

Wish me luck!

65 notes - Posted November 19, 2022

#4

I’ve seen so much meta and so many posts about Nightmare as Dream’s other form, but I am obsessed with the other side of Nightmare’s coin.

What about Daydream? What about Dream when he’s in the fresh blush if love that’s like the first days the flowers bloom in spring? What about Dream when he had a wife and son and his son’s music echoed across the Dreaming?

What about two parents who were so tied to creation, teaching their son to sing, and to play music, and the Dreams that must have been created before it turned to sorrow. What about the happy side of the coin?

I’m just having a lot of emotions about Dream’s other aspects. I just. I love Nightmare. I love writing Nightmare (and Torment, who is a step beyond Nightmare in my mind), and their opposites. Who are Dream, and… well. Daydream.

66 notes - Posted November 14, 2022

#3

Alec Lightwood Birthday Bash - Prompt Fill

From @to-the-stars-writing

I've seen a thousand amnesia fics, one or the other forgetting who they are, but what about a dual-amnesia fic where something happens on a mission or because of a spell and the others come in to find Magnus and Alec both temporarily forgot who they are, but they're still flirting like crazy with one another

~!~!~!~!~

When Alec woke up, there were three problems immediately apparent.

Number one, he was chained to the wall.  

Number two, he no longer had his stele, his bow, or seraph blades.

Number three, there was someone else across the cell and he looked like he was in even worse shape, if that was somehow even possible.  Which meant that he was going to be rescuing not just himself, but someone else too.  

"Hey," Alec hissed, glancing toward the ominous looking door.  "Hey, open your eyes.  I can't do this alone, and need your help."  

No movement, which meant that the other man was truly unconscious.  Alec frowned as he took the other man in properly - pants that, angels below, were they painted on?  A shirt that was... less fabric than it was supposed to be based on the slashes he could see, and a faint sheen of glitter on his eyes and hair could only mean one thing.  He was trapped in this cell with a warlock, for angels knew whatever reason.  

Alec looked around the cell again and tugged at his chains.  He had a little bit of give, which was more of a blessing than he would have expected, and his feet weren't chained to the ground.  Another quick check confirmed that he still had his boots, and even though the small knife he kept in the holster was gone (dammit, Jace was going to pout about that for hours, that had been a present), what he actually needed was not.  

Taking a second, Alec took a deep breath and focused - most of his runes had expired, but he could still hear the sound of guards much further down from their cell.  The only breathing he could hear belonged to him and the warlock nearby.  Which meant if he made a little bit of noise it wasn't going to bring anyone running.  He looked down at his boots and took a deep breath, testing all of his weight on the chains for a long moment.  

"Why do I get the feeling that you're about to do something devastatingly ridiculous that only shadowhunters know how to do?"

Alec looked up at the quiet voice and saw that the warlock was awake, relaxing.  At least he wouldn't have to be running around with an unconscious body.  That would have made things frustrating and unreasonably difficult.  "You have a better idea?  Magic, maybe?" he hissed back.  

The warlock hummed and shook his head.  "Unfortunately, however we ended up here and based on the..." he wrinkled his nose and licked his lips.  "Memory loss drought I can still taste the after effects of, my magic has either been drained, or I spent all of it.  I'm not without some skills, but nowhere near your own, I imagine."  

"I'll stand for you being able to walk," Alec muttered, ignoring the way that sparkling gold nail polish on his fingers shone on the faint light of the cell.  "You injured anywhere?"  

"Thankfully no."  A faint rustle.  "I am, however, not standing on the ground, so all of my weight has been on my shoulders and arms."  

Alec winced in sympathy.  That was going to mean he'd be able to walk but not do much in the way of fighting while his arms got their feeling back.  "I should be able to get us out of here," he reassured and looked up at his hands again.  "This might take me a couple of tries."  

He took a deep breath and lifted his legs carefully out in front of him.  Breathe in deep, and then move.  Shifting slowly with his grip against the chains, Alec brought his legs up further, bending himself almost in half to fumble with the secret latch on the side of his boots.  

"Darling, yoga instructors would envy that flexibility," the warlock praised.  "Not to mention that it does give one a wide variety of IDEAS, the nature of which is entirely inappropriate for our current predicament."  

Alec fought down the urge to snort, his arms starting to burn before he'd worked the lock pick half out of his boot.  He dropped his legs back down and breathed through the burning of his arms.  "Fuck, I need at least one more round."  

The warlock chuckled.  "Please feel free to do that as many times as you like.  I am quite enjoying the view.  I might enjoy a more practical demonstration later."  

Alec snorted.  "Pretty sure this is not the place to be flirting."  

"On the contrary, it's the perfect place to be flirting," the warlock correct.  "My name is Magnus, and I will be happy to take you out to dinner after this is over."  

"Your wife wouldn't like that," Alec said, his eyes drifting to the ring on Magnus' finger.  He took another deep breath and forced himself to relax, waiting for the burning to subside.  

Magnus looked at the ring on his finger, blinking in surprise.  "I've never had a wife, or a husband, mind you I am as equal opportunity as it comes.  Where did..." he flinched, his head aching.  "Ah, memory loss potion, right."  

Alec gave him a rueful grin.  "If it's any consolation at all, I would have said yes if you weren't attached."  He'd never met someone as beautiful as Magnus in all of his life.  If he'd had the chance, he probably never would have let someone like the warlock go.  "All right, let's try this again."  

Alec swung his legs up in an easy, determined motion and waited, breathing hard, for his fingers to bump against the lock pick.  It took three more tugs, but at last it was free in his fingertips and he could drop his feet again with a groan.  His whole body was sore and he was going to pay for doing that without runes tomorrow, that was for sure.  "All right, now to see if I remember how to do this..."

Magnus hummed.  "Where did a shadowhunter learn the art of lockpicking, I might wonder," he said, watching as the shadowhunter bit his lip in concentration, his eyes drawn back to the delicious sight of those lips reddening.  

"My siblings," Alec said, and that was enough explanation, apparently, for Magnus, who said nothing further as he finished getting himself completely unlocked, carefully resting the chains against the wall. 

See the full post

67 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

#2

What it says on the tin - and I love it. 

95 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

A Knight’s Favor

Okay hear me out.

Renaissance Fair - Hob drags Dream along for the fun of it all, mostly for an excuse to wear some of his oldest clothing, and his replica claymore (with dulled edges), attracting attention from everyone as he and Dream move together. 

They watch performances by the dozen, and take in the tournament matches, when, after it’s all over, the master of ceremonies steps forward and says that he’s going to need everyone’s help to coax someone to do an exhibition match.

Hob’s eyes are widening and he’s cursing as Evan looks up at him, smirking wide and he’s nearly scrambling out of his seat when Evan gets the crowd shouting his name in a chant, demanding he come down and put on an exhibition. 

Dream, of course, is watching all of this in amusement, and Hob’s just, embarrassed (in a proud way) and sighing.  He explains that it’d disappoint people if he didn’t, so he steals a quick kiss (which gets all of the AWWWs from the audience) and heads down to the arena.  He and Evan are kitted up, and have their weapons of choice (longsword vs. claymore was always an interesting one, since neither of them bother with shields).  

Hob is just settling into position, when a ROAR goes up from the crowd and he sees Evan laughing and gesturing behind him.  His breath catches at the sight of Dream standing there, holding out a ruby, a clear replica of HIS ruby, on a shimmering golden chain, a faint smile on his lips.  He’s approaching before he realizes it. 

“I believe it is custom to bestow a favor on the knight one wishes to win,” Dream says, his voice soft as he bends down and drapes the chain over Hob’s head, settling it against his chest before tucking it into his leather jerkin.  “Do attempt to win for me, valiant sir knight.” 

Hob’s flushed (and it has nothing to do with the light armor he’s wearing), and staring at Dream, who has the smuggest smirk on his face that he’s going to kiss off as soon as he’s done winning the battle.  But he nods, because of course he will win this fight for Dream and he turns back to Evan. 

Evan is smirking and Hob resolves to wipe that smirk off his face, and settles into a stance he hasn’t used in far too long.  He doesn’t hold back, not for a second.  He’s not going for a killing blow, only disarmament, but he can see the surprise on Evan’s face as he twists and wields the claymore in a way that only masters of it can. 

The fight is quick, brutal, and the crowd is roaring their approval. 

Hob can feel the heat of the ruby against his chest as Evan tries to push him back, forcing him into tighter combat.  A quick twist of his hips, faking dropping to one knee and Hob was able to toss Evan over his shoulder, sword and all, before spinning to point the claymore at his throat, grinning. 

Evan will laugh of course, and as the crowd cheers, he hugs Hob and thanks him for the match, and Hob turns to Dream who is...

His eyes are almost as hot as the ruby burning against his chest, the ruby that stands out against the white linen shirt he’s wearing under his armor, and Hob is grinning, triumphant and victorious as he strides towards Dream and reaches out for his hand, bowing low over it in a courtly bow before yanking his Dream into a kiss.  There’s another roar around them, but Hob forgets all of them as Dream kisses him hard enough to have him forgetting his name, let alone any silly old tournament. 

202 notes - Posted October 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #My year in review should literally be #“Aria did nothing relevant for the rest of the year” #“But then spent 2.5 months reblogging Dreamling NONSTOP” #“And that is all the info we have on her - thanks”