Just someone who writes whenever they're free. If you know me personally, pretend as if you never saw this account. If you haven't figured it out by now, Scaramouche / the wanderer is my favourite character in genshin impact, so expect some content for him. I would love writing for genshin impact characters but forgive me if I get some things wrong because I haven't even finished Liyue (I'm a new player).
Hi 👋, My name is Mohammad, and I’m reaching out in a moment of desperate need. I’m a father of three young children living in Gaza, and we are caught in the midst of a catastrophic war. Our home is no longer a safe haven, and the future here seems increasingly uncertain. 💔
I’ve launched a fundraising campaign with the goal of raising $60,000 to relocate my family to a safer place where my children can grow up in peace and have a chance at a brighter future.
Unfortunately, my previous fundraising efforts were abruptly halted when my account was terminated without explanation. However, I remain determined to keep fighting for my family’s safety and well-being. 🫶
If you could take a moment to read our story, consider donating, or simply share our campaign with others, it would make an incredible difference. Every act of kindness, no matter how small, brings us one step closer to safety and a new beginning. 🙏
Thank you for your time, compassion, and support. ❤️🩹
https://gofund.me/fd1faea2 🔗
I don't have the capability to fund money but let's all try to help people in dire times. If you see this, please share for awareness or donate to help aid such communities.
i’m feeling rlly encouraged by my little corner of the internet rn, so i want to discuss something that is pretty relevant to dark content and fanfiction in general. nobody can control the things that they’re into, nobody has a say in what kinks or fetishes they develop, and finding an outlet through art and writing is absolutely wonderful in my opinion.
that being said, blanket statements condemning “purity culture” and promoting the idea that all of this art is morally neutral are very much dangerous, particularly in white fandom spaces. that is not what purity culture means.
to avoid boring you, the term "purity culture" originated from the 1990s christian movement emphasizing sexual abstinence. since then, the term has evolved to include the sanitization of art, expression, language, etc. to avoid upsetting or taboo subjects, disproportionately targeting women, queer people, people of color, and all marginalized groups who are historically seen as "inappropriate" or "unclean". the effects of purity culture are very real in both the internal and external suppression of a person's ideas and life experiences. some personal accounts of the 90s movement conclude that purity culture is the cause of ptsd in people who lived through it. people still insist that queerness should be kept out of children's media for being inappropriate or inherently sexual. clearly the effects are still here.
"purity culture" can be applied to a plethora of topics in taboo art. this includes the depiction of racism and racial violence. white creators can depict racism in their work, but these creators and by extension their white followers have a responsibility to analyze their treatment of characters of color. i’ve seen it said that fictional characters cannot be objectified because they are objects, and this is true—however, these characters can be examples of fetishization. racial and ethnic stereotypes can absolutely be applied in dark content.
racial stereotyping is what moves the treatment of fictional characters of color from "objectifying" to fetishizing. an example that comes to mind is comparing fictional men of color to animals--historically, comparing men of color to animals is a form of dehumanization and othering. it was used as an argument to support slavery in america based on the idea that black people were savage, animalistic, and less intelligent by nature, and thus require subjugation by white people as their "stewards". stephanie meyer played into this trope by making the werewolves in the twilight trilogy all indigenous people, specifically focused on portraying men of color. what makes this harmful racial stereotyping isn't that men of color were shapeshifters or werewolves. its because it was only people of color that were portrayed as animals.
racism is prevalent in fandom spaces. many creators of color have shared their experiences with this and been told to stop “clutching their pearls”. the fact is, sharing and creating racist content with an uncritical eye as a white person is irresponsible at best, and makes fandom spaces inaccessible to fans of color. we can’t cultivate online communities without care and concern for one another, and that means taking responsibility, learning about fetishizing tropes and how to spot them in your work or other people’s work.
this is not a condemnation or a callout. as a person of color in fandom, i know a lot of wonderful white allies who actively make the community accessible to fans of color. all i want with this post to help make this space safer for myself and others, and that means pointing out racism and encouraging people to educate and inform themselves.
Summary : A good friendship is something that is rare for even the strongest sorcerer in the world to come across. Surely, he'd do anything to keep it, right? Even if his heart was screaming otherwise.
Pairing : Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader
TW: Angst with sad ending
Gojo Satoru had never doubted himself of being strong. He could bring down entire hordes of curses with just a snap of his fingers, a mere mention of his name would have the enemies of the Jujitsu world trembling with terror.
Yet, when he saw you, with your wild laughter and the way it rang in his ears like the most melodious tune, he felt weakened.
"Toru, you have no idea how bad that date was!" You chuckle, plopping onto the couch "I don't know what Shoko was thinking setting me up with him, the poor dude was straight up trying to worship the very ground I walk on to get in my pants."
Toru, a nickname that only you had shared for him. The sound of it from your lips, how it seemed to bewitch every single sense of his, Satoru wanted to bottle it up just to keep hearing it again and again.
"Oh yeah?" Satoru grabbed a bowl of popcorn and say next to you, grinning "Well, do you know what can be better than some date you can have with any of those dudes?"
"Let me guess, that popcorn you generously have in your hands right now?" You asked, lips curling into smile.
A part of Satoru wanted to scream that it was him. He could be better than any of those idiots you went out to see. Afterall, how could he not be when he knew every single aspect of you as well as the back of his hand?
Would anyone else know all your favourite shows and books? Would they know exactly how you like your tea, the type of bands you enjoy or how to hug you tight while you weep into their shoulder?
"Yeah and this new thriller movie that's been released." Satoru' eyes gleamed with mischeif but the pang in his chest still remained.
You groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead dramatically. "Toru, you know I hate horror!"
The blue eyed man chuckled at your plight. "You can keep whining all you want, but if I say we are watching The Shining, then that's the only damn thing that's going to be playing on the TV tonight."
You rolled your eyes with mock offense and playfully jabbed him in the shoulder, an ordinary routine for you which still succeeded in elciting a deep stirring of longing in Satoru heart.
How would it feel to hold you close, whisper all the frantic thoughts that have been running through his head for years in your ear?
Would your lips taste as sweet as how he imagined them in his dreams?
"You do know that you might be the Jujitsu world's biggest asshole, right?" You leaned over and grabbed some popcorn from Satoru as he grabbed the TV remote, shaking it annoyingly in front of your face.
"I wouldn't have it any other way." Satoru smiled, but there was a strange softness in his expression that went unnoticed to your gaze.
It was for the best that you didn't notice because Satoru knew, deep down in the icy depths of his pride and arrogance that was bellowing at him to just tell you, that you deserved a man better than him.
You deserved someone who could give all their time to you. Someone who would usher you away from all the dangers of the world of curses, not someone like him whose very companionship would mean facing countless trials with curses determined to find the weakness of the greatest Jujitsu sorcerer.
By just being a sorcerer yourself, you came home beaten up every weekend from all the curses out for your blood. Being his would be equivalent to signing a death warrant, you'd never get a moment of peace for your whole life.
Satoru couldn't do that to you.
The movie went on for a few hours and with every scream that escaped your lips from all the blood and gore, each time your arm unknowingly brushed against his own, Satoru had to mentally restrain himself from just kissing you right then and there.
Once the movie was over, Satoru sat with you and listened to your remarks, resting his head on his hand.
"And that scene where blood just spurted from the sink was crazy!" You exclaimed animatedly "I'll admit it, this movie was better than what I expected!"
"Now this is why you should have some trust in me when it comes to movies." Satoru said smugly, adoration filling his soul itself as he drunk in your glee.
He couldn't allow himself to be too close to you, not if it meant endangering your life and health. Just being your friend and a part of your life would be enough if it meant just getting to be around you. Even if every thought in his body protested at the sight of you being set up on dates, though his own mind betrayed himself every night with indulgent fantasies of you, he'd make himself be satisfied with just being your friend.
Gojo Satoru could never have a weakness, especially not one as disadvantageous as a lover.
--
Satoru walked through the campus of Jujtisu High, aimlessly going through his phone after returning from one of his missions. It'd been quite simple and hadn't even succeeding in piquing the tiniest bit of his interest.
"God know why they needed me for something so simple." Gojo muttered to himself and put his phone in the pocket of his pants "I swaer to god, it's almost as if they're trying to keep me-"
All his words fell short, lodging in his throat as he saw a sight that he'd been dreading forever. There you were, stunning as always with your face perfectly framed by the setting sun as you kissed some man deeply, your fingers tangled in the locks of his black hair as you pressed your body against his chest.
Gojo Satoru could only continue watching in horror as the man placed his hands firmly on your hips with such familiarity and pulled you closer. At that moment, Satoru didn't even knew who the hell that man was but he could clearly witness that you both fit against each other like missing pieces of a puzzle.
He saw you pull away, your face flushed and lips pink from the ministrations of your lover as you giggled, not even noticing Satoru's presence in your gaze.
Gojo Satoru, for the first time in his life, walked away. He turned on his heel and continued walking in the opposite direction as the bottom of his lips trembled.
What else should he have expected? Of course you'd have someone in your life, someone who'd make you happy in all the ways he couldn't.
He knew that this had been inevitable, but goddamnit the tears that were unashamedly welling up in his eyes paid no heed to that fact.
--
There are certain moments in life where one must control the whirlwind of regrets in their heart.
Gojo Satoru could recall experiencing this when you introduced your boyfriend to him, all smiles and laughter. Your lover had firmly shook Satoru's hand, speaking bashfully of how amazing you are.
When you and your boyfriend looked at each other, as much as Satoru cursed the sight before him in his head, he couldn't deny the attraction between the two of you.
One you obviously didn't share for him.
But the day his very strength, his arrogance and pride as a sorcerer died within him and burnt to ashes on a pyre was when he saw you walk down the aisle.
You'd given him the invitation, practically brimming with joy and blissfully unaware of the tumultuous mirage of emotions as his heart and mind engaged in a tense conflict with each other.
Gojo Satoru felt breathless as you walked down the aisle, absolutely radiant in your wedding dress.
Satoru knew you were beautiful, but at that moment with the way your hair was let down, how the dress clutched your curves and the wind which gently made your veil flutter in the wind, he couldn't deny that you were the most stunning woman that could ever grace his eyes.
As you continued walking ahead, a small part of Satoru wanted you to look at him for just an instant. To give him a sign, anything that you suddenly didn't want this. That he could whisk you away even if he could never fully give himself to you.
But your gaze was far ahead, eyes only for the man soon to be your husband and in all your awe, you didn't even spare a single second for Gojo Satoru.
Satoru's hands trembled as he forced himself to stare at the ground, unable to look any longer. If gods did exist in this world of vicious curses, Satoru was helplessly praying to ones he'd never believed in just for all this to turn out to be a figment of his imagination.
"Y/N, do you take this man as your husband and swear to stay by his side during sickness and health, during all the moments of happiness and sadness that life will have to offer the both of you?"
Satoru forced himself to look up and he could swear that he could feel his heart shatter like glass thrown forcefully against a pavement once he saw you nod your head, tears of joy running down your face. "Yes, of course I do." You clasped your hands, eyes brimming with excitement of the prospects that awaited you in the future.
Unbeknownst to you, there was someone else who was crying in the altar with you. It wasn't your husband, who instead chose to gently caress your face and wipe away your tears with his rough, calloused hand. It wasnt your mother or any of your family members, who were all rather elated at witnessing you during this moment.
It was Gojo Satoru, tears streaming down his face as he bit down the inside of his cheek to choke down the sobs that threatened to spill from his lips. Thankfully, no one noticed him. How could they, when you could simply steal everyone's breath away with a simple flick of your hand?
"Does anyone have any objections?" The priest asked and all the guests smiled cheekily, this was just a mere formality that no one ever adhered to.
But for Satoru, those words seemed to awaken a sense of courage he didn't even know existed to him. Proclamations of love and longing, of how he knew that he could make you happy made its way to the tip of his tongue, only to crumble away as he saw your expression of delight as you gazed into the eyes of the man you loved.
Gojo Satoru was a man of many spades, he was nonchalant, full of himself and always determined to get what he wants.
But he couldn't bring himself to be the villain of your love story, not if it meant seeing that smile disappear from your face on your special day.
"Then I pronounce you husband and wife!" The priest proclaimed, the chance for Satoru to open the dam of emotions that had been welling up within him for years vanishing with just those simple words.
Satoru's eyes never left your face as your husband wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you close. Even then, Satoru couldnt let go of the countless 'what ifs' in his head.
What if he'd been selfish and allowed himself to love you? Would he have been the one to be by your side as your husband instead? Would he have been given the honor of waking up to you each morning and falling asleep with you in his arms? Would the two of you have grown old together after having stepped away from the chaos of the Jujitsu world?
A part of him died inside as your gently cupped your husband's face and pressed your lips against his, hues of pink subtly dusting over your cheeks.
You and your husband pulled apart and you squealed as you were lifted into the sky by his strong arms.
At that instant, a cruel realisation dawned upon Satoru.
This was his price for being the strongest, as much as he devoted himself to the entire Jujtisu world, the few people who knew him beyond just the facade of the cocky sorcerer would keep being snatched away from him by fate.
A lonely life was all that awaited him and the words that he desperately wanted to scream would remain locked within the closure of his heart.
I love you.
Those words would never be heard, instead they would only be replaying in his head for nights to come as he'd toss and turn at the thought of you enjoying a sweet life with another man, even though all he wanted was to be the one for you.
There'd be nights where he'd curse the entirely of Jujitsu, detesting his destiny that had been set in stone from the instant he'd been born.
But all of that meant nothing when he saw how you smiled, exactly like the way which had enchanted him when the two of you had first met as you walked up to him, arm in arm with your husband.
And in that fleeting moment, Gojo Satoru smiled back wryly, the gesture a broken attempt at trying to brush aside the throbbing of his aching heart.
"Go on lovebirds, dont keep all the guests waiting!" Satoru chuckled weakly, motioning for you to go ahead, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding as you grinned and rushed over to your mother.
As he continued to watch you for the rest of the night, the alcohol his sole companion for the event, Satoru supposed the old stories he had read as a kid were right.
The human heart was a fickle thing, always longing for the things it simply cannot have the most.
And you, you would be his one weakness.
The only thing he'd still keep running back to, a curse and blessing all in one.
Summary : You’d hunted down Scaramouche, pushing aside your lingering strings to his previous lifetimes, awaiting the confrontation between the two of you with bated breath. But will your resolve as a hero remain as steadfast as it always was when what you had imagined countless times finally happens?
Pairing: Scaramouche x GN!Reader
Genre : Romance, Angst
The devil sat upon his throne, the object of his malignant devotion clutched tightly within his grip as blood streamed down his face.
You knew you should be afraid, that the sixth harbinger was no longer the naive soul you’d once known, he was now a spirit devoid of any holiness without a mere semblance of a heart.
Yet, as much as your mind desperately tried to find a sliver of fear or hatred within you, there was nothing.
Scaramouche walked towards you, his hat fluttering in the wind and he cooed as a single finger of his caressed your face.
You stiffened, feeling the last embers of revolt fading away into a languid abyss as you met his eyes, those damning eyes that had captivated you as Kabukimono and now as this temptress of sin.
“Do you have any idea how long I have yearned for you?” He drawled, his unrelenting grip on your face tightening.
The sword in your hand trembled, an avid reflection of the mirage of thoughts and betrayals that had pushed the two of you into this stage adjourned by fate, a play of your own choosing.
Scaramouche stepped closer to you, chuckling. “Are you going to plunge that sword into me, Y/N? You, who was the very first match which set my rage ablaze, the sum off all my ardour, do you really think you can kill me?”
You rose your blade, the tip aimed at where his heart should have been. “I am the sworn hero of Teyvat. My will is always aligned with the wishes of the people and you, Scaramouche, have sinned grievously against mankind itself. I’m no longer the kindred friend you knew in your previous lifetimes or the faint echo of the lover you once sought in me and it would do you well to remember that.”
“Then kill me.” Scaramouche dropped his hand from your face and grabbed the hilt of your sword, tugging the weapon towards him until a hair breadth was left between it and his chest. “Kill me and become the hero that these vermin do not deserve.”
You gasped, frantically searching for your sense of duty within you, only to realise that it had vanished into the roaring depths of relentless craving of the man before you.
“I..”
How many times had your imagined this during moonlit nights, pictured the look on his face as you drove a blade into his chest?
How many years had you spent tossing and turning in your chambers, steeling your nerves and hardening any faint reminisces about the past?
“If death will be brought to my doorstep by your beckoning, Y/N, I shall gladly look forward to it.”
At that moment, you knew you’d already lost.
Because within those eyes, the windows of the soul, you couldn’t bring yourself to see the ruthless harbinger that had slaughtered innocents. All that appeared in your head was the confused puppet, curious about the realm of humans, running to you with a basket of freshly picked flowers.
All you could feel were the kisses he had once peppered across your face.
All that filled your vision was only his smile that shone like it had been spun from sunlight itself.
You lowered your sword, face colouring in shame. Scaramouche closed any space between you and him, gently placing his lips on yours and you froze up, heart hammering in your chest.
Scaramouche kissed you deep and slow, savouring your timid responses as you reciprocated his affection, like a wanderer in a desert that had arrived upon a bountiful oasis.
Tears ran down your face as you tangled your fingers in his blue hair. You knew what this meant, your oaths to the people, the sacrifices of your comrades, all of it had been ripped apart merely due to a moment of weakness.
Scaramouche gently placed his hand upon your chest, feeling your heartbeat as he pulled away. That rhythm of life, it completed him. Even if he didn’t have a heart, as long as he could hold you close like this, he knew it would satiate him.
He held out his hand, the shared core of hatred of humanity itself, awaiting your judgement. “So my friend, my love, my enemy, will you take my hand for the dance of a lifetime?”
The devil wasn’t the little mythological creature preached to children to encourage them to behave well.
He wasn’t a hideous monster, marred with marks of cruelty that maliciously sat upon your shoulder.
He could be beautiful, a perfect visage of elegance and you had just grasped his palm, a scorned excuse of a savior of Teyvat.
You both knew that this dance between the lines of love, betrayal and duty couldn’t last forever. That it could only be a fleeting moment and the second it was over, the harsh boundaries of war would be drawn yet again.
But surely it wouldn’t hurt to pretend for a little while longer?
Summary: The Balladeer's heart had always been a closed door but you'd managed to throw it open. Your love, though he never knew how to return it, was like warm sunlight kissing his skin. Yet, good things never last, do they?
Love.
A word that shook the heart of every creature with tumultuous yearning, the subject of bards in every drinking den across Teyvat.
Scaramouche could only scoff at the ridiculous notion. Love could never be true, not within the boundaries of a wretched, heartless world where emotions were a source of disdain.
Not in a realm where his tears meant being cast aside, a creature as noble as him was supposed to be as steadfast as the mountains that slumbered in stone.
Especially not in a world where you couldn’t exist.
Scaramouche downed a bottle of whiskey, leaning against the headrest of his velvet armchair as he relished the burning sensation of the drink running down his throat.
The stinging tethered him to this pathetic plane of existence, fastening the strings of his limbs to the earth as he attempted to fly away to the heavens.
He could still remember that night, the wind had felt frigid on his porcelain skin as bonfires reached up to the sky.
The fatui had been rejoicing, their hoarse cries of victory at the thought of another pesky obstacle in their path being tossed into oblivion.
Yet, all he could see was you, all thoughts of merrymaking cast aside at the sight of your bright laughter. The sound of your joy had been a gentle breeze, blowing the cobwebs and opening the windows to sunlight in his heart.
You’d drunk yourself to a slobbering mess, stumbling around as you jested with your peers. Scaramouche swirled his cup of cherry red wine, positively relishing the blush that coloured your face when you met his eyes.
After a couple of hours of painstaking formalities with the other harbingers, The Balladeer couldn’t help the groan that escaped from his throat as the gathering cleared,leaving him all alone with the stars and his mind.
His accursed mind, tormented with the sights of eras long gone.
He could practically see those cruel violet eyes in front of him, mercilessly casting him down from the heavens as he writhed in the air.
Scaramouche shuddered, breathing shakily, the silence penetrating the nooks of his heart.
Just as he was about to return to his quarters, he’d felt a tap on his shoulder.
The harbinger whirled around, only to be greeted by your charming face.
“I wouldn’t have come for this banquet if you were only going to keep staring at me.” You smiled, clasping his hands
If any other soul had done that simple action, it would have warranted instant death but what could Scaramouche say, in your hands he’d always been putty.
You stared at Scaramouche, eyes raking over the way the moonlight lit his porcelain features.
The way his clear blue eyes seemed to hold the depth of all the oceans of Teyvat itself.
The way that soft smile making its way into the corners of his lips had your heart bursting into flames.
“I missed you.” He muttered
“Hmm, what was that again?” You smirked, snaking your arm around his waist
“Don’t test me.” Scaramouche gritted, but the growing grin on his face said otherwise.
The two of you sat between the tall blades of grass, the birds chirped softy as a shooting star whizzed past.
“Did you see that!? Scaramouche, please tell me you saw it!” You cheered, your eyes practically about to fall from their sockets.
You were radiant, a source of such pure vividness that even someone as vile as him couldn’t shun away from.
“Yeah.” Scaramouche said, staring at you as he traced the lines of your palm. “It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”
Deep inside you both knew he didn’t mean the star.
“Y/N.” The harbinger called, gently laying his head on your shoulder.
You stiffened, your heartbeat echoing in your ears as his cold breaths fanned your neck.
“You’ll stay with me, right? Always?”
“Always.”
“Once I get that gnosis, you’ll have to be the one by my side,” He confessed, biting the inside of his cheek “It can never be anyone other than you.”
“Whether you have the gnosis or not makes no difference to me, but if it makes you happy, I’ll stay by your side as long as you want me to be there.”
Scaramouche could swear that a strange warmth seemed to blossom in his chest, but that would remain a thought for him to ponder during a freezing, lonely night.
You placed a chaste kiss on his forehead. “I love you.” You whispered
Scaramouche nodded, closing his eyes. What else could he say? How could a creature like him, a broken puppet with neither a heart nor strong will, be able to understand the intensity of your words?
You knew you would never hear it back but that was fine, it would just be a silent prayer you’d utter to him each day. You didn’t need that simple sentence to understand how he felt, as long as you could still see that gleam in his eyes when he looked at you, you knew you had nothing to worry about.
It was love, Scaramouche just hadn’t understood it yet.
—
With you in his life, Scaramouche knew he was invincible, nothing could stop him anymore.
He was no longer that fragile creature, sobbing and wailing, he was going to be a god.
The gnosis was so close to falling within his grasp that Scaramouche could practically taste victory on the tip of his tongue.
Yet, all those thoughts fell apart into dust fluttering in the wind at the sight of you on the ground, your skin devoid of it’s warmth.
Hair clung to forehead, drenched in blood as you pitifully covered the gaping hole in your stomach.
“S-scaramouche,“ You called, feebly reaching for the man you were bound to leave
“Who did this to you!?“ Scaramouche bellowed, cupping your face
A whimper escaped his lips at the coldness of your body and with every second that passed, Scaramouche swore he could see the light fading from your eyes.
“I-I’m sorry I couldn’t make it through.“ You felt warm tears falling upon your arm and you forced yourself to look at Scaramouche, the bottom of your lip trembling as the harbinger stifled his sobs.
“I won’t let you die!“ He bellowed, tightening his grip on you. You weakly shook your head as your vision blurred.
“I love you, Scaramouche. D-don’t forget me.“
No.
No.
It couldn’t be you.
Another betrayal, another mar upon his frivolous existence.
You grasped his arm tightly, hopelessly trying to hold on to the last embers of life within you just to not leave the man before you ablaze in rage.
But alas, the archons had other plans, and you shut your eyes; blissfulness washing over you.
Scaramouche would have followed you to the ends of the world but at that moment, you’d slipped away to a paradise he’d never be able to reach.
“I love you too."
Those were the words that escaped Scaramouche’s lips, only to be heard by the stars.
He knew what love meant now.
It was you.
It was your touch, the comfort you'd ushered him into.
It was the web of passion he had allowed himself to be foolishly woven into.
You, the one who’d made him have a heart by giving yours even though he’d done nothing to deserve such a boon.
Scaramouche couldn’t help but bawl your name, the wind carrying the puppet’s rage across Teyvat and to the archons.
The world shouldn't be the same without you, it should have been torn apart in flames that should tower the mightiest pantheon, stifling every creature with smoke.
A world without you had no right to have even a glimmer of beauty.
Scaramouche remained rooted in place, the facade of the ruthless harbinger shattering into pieces, leaving only a wailing child stuck in the body of a man crying for the loss of his only salvation.
This art isn't mine, it belongs to mamepokokun who's extremely talented. Please check them out and support them.
Summary : After a one night stand with the woman he can barely tolerate that seems to linger in Childe's memory, what will he do when he sees her again at an official party?
Warning : Making out, some sexual themes, slight swearing
Pairing : Childe x Fem!Reader
Genre : Romance (a bit spicy thought), Enemies to Lovers
a/n : Hello! I've never left notes like this before, but I just wanted to thank you all for the support you've shown for my previous works. Reading some of your comments have truly made my day and I hope this post is able to make yours too.
Childe had never hated anyone as much as the woman he’d caught at corner of his eye.
He’d spotted her across the ballroom, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face. As a harbinger, she seemed to fit perfectly in the background of the ball in the Tsaritsa’s honour.
The party had been a bore, filled with mundane remarks and courtesies. But his eyes hadn’t left her for an instant and he certainly hadn’t failed to see the how she’d spared him a few subtle glances.
The damned woman had been tormenting his mind for countless nights, caressing him softly with phantom touches.
Touches that left him panting for more as he clutched his bed with the moon as his sole witness.
Y/N could feel the eleventh harbinger’s eyes piercing into her back. She almost scoffed at the ludicrous display of hatred, how could a single man be so obvious?
The musicians burst forth with violins and the music began to pick up pace as it blasted through the ballroom. In a sudden spark of courage, Childe began to walk towards her, insults ready at the tip of his tongue.
“Leave me alone, some of us actually are busy and have matters to attend.”
Of course, Y/N, the Tsaritsa’s personal favourite would respond with such coldness. Childe tilted his head, trying to restrain the thoughts that were threatening to spew from his lips.
He wanted to taint her, ruin her and see that facade of indifference burn to ashes.
“Is that so, comrade? I couldn’t help but notice you sulking in the corner for the past while. Perhaps that’s why you seem even more sour than usual, can’t handle not being the Tsaritsa’s lapdog for a single night?”
“Of course not, unlike you, I don’t have to prance around like a jester to retain my position, considering that I have the needed prowess for a harbinger.”
Childe’s jaw clenched and he sucked in a harsh breathe.
“What are you even here for? Came to beg for a dance, have you?”
Childe didn’t know what spurred him, but he couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth.
“Would you like it if that was the case?”
He relished the shock that swept through her face.
“Bold of you to assume that I’d accept.” She replied, regaining her wits.
Childe closed the gap between them, shielding the galling Y/N from prying eyes. “Sure weren’t this cocky a few nights ago, were you?”
It was a tangled mess of limbs as Childe felt his shirt being ripped off.
“As eager as always, hm?” Childe said, hissing as Y/N dug her nails into his back.
“Be a darling and shut your mouth for once.”
Childe pushed her off, crossing his arms over his bare chest; a playful glint in his eyes. “One more vile remark and you’re getting nothing.”
She leaned in close, bringing herself close to his ear. “We both know you want this as much as or even more than me.” She whispered, leaving a sultry kiss on his neck, smearing her red lipstick on his skin.
“Then say it.”
“God, do you ever know when to be quiet.”
“Say the truth.”
“And pray tell, what is this truth?” Y/N raised her eyebrows, growing more impatient by the minute.
“That you know tonight is more than some spontaneous decision with no strings attached.”
Y/N grabbed his face and for a fleeting second, she could tell that if she asked him to, he might do anything she’d ask.
“Then beg for it.”
“Last time I checked, I wasn’t the one pleading to be touched.” Y/N chortled.
Childe flushed, embarrassment rising within him. “Why you-''
Before he could complete his words, she grabbed him by his black tie, tugging him closer to her. Childe stared at the emerald necklace that adorned her neck, light reflecting of it in a plethora of colours. He couldn’t help but wonder how his hands would look in its place instead.
“That night was nothing else other than carnal entertainment .” Y/N muttered, glancing around the vicinity. “Though I’m not sure if you’re as confident about that as I am.”
“Keep up with haughty attitude and one day, I might just end up putting you in your place.”
“You chose to come up to me right now.” The corners of her lip pulled into a grin. "Seems to me as if you're desperate for my undivided attention."
Childe clenched his teeth in frustration. "I'm a harbinger like you, show me some respect."
"Make me."
Red seared Childe's vision as his breaths came out shallow. His fists shook and his head throbbed with rage.
"Aw, are you getting all angry?" Y/N cooed, placing her hand atop his chest. "Oh my, you seem to be getting all worked up over a few words."
She paused, pushing him aside. "You've grown weak, Childe. How pathetic."
A huge thud echoed through the ballroom as Childe slammed her against the wall, trapping her in between his arms. Whispers ran through the horde of guests as an awed silence fell upon the crowd.
She dug her nails into her palms, embarrassment clouding her head.
Y/N swung his arm away. "I have to apologize for my friend, I think the drinks really got to his head. Please, don't bother yourselves with us and enjoy the night." She chuckled nonchalantly
Childe remained silent as the guests broke out into giggles, the thought of a drunken acquaintance bringing forth a bout of humor.
The party began to pick up its momentum and the people returned back to the food, drinks and entertainment. Y/N whirled around before dragging Childe out of the ballroom, her silk dress trailing behind her.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" She hissed, running her fingers through her hair.
The cold wind whipped against their faces and Y/N involuntarily shuddered. As though it was second nature to him, Childe removed his coat and gently placed it atop her shoulders. The woman's eyes widened and she let out a huff. Nevertheless, she clutched his coat and wrapped it around herself.
Childe didn't know what was wrong with him. Every single rational thought within him was screaming at him to get away, that no good would come from this.
Yet a small part of him wanted to know what it felt like. To know how it would feel to take her right there, clasp her hand in his as he ravaged her. Maybe even adore and cherish her.
"Stop looking at me like that." She mumbled
"Like what?"
"Like you love me."
She was of noble blood, the Tsaritsa's right hand and lowering herself to a man of a lineage as inconsequential as the dust beneath the soles of her shoes would be a disgrace to everything she stood for.
But she couldn't control the way all the values that had been ingrained in her came crashing down or how her self restraint hung from a thread every time she looked into those sky blue eyes.
Childe guffawed and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips. "Why would I? After all, it's just 'carnal entertainment', is it not?"
"Then why don't you engage me with it? It's not like the party is very amusing, is it?"
Childe grabbed her by the hips, leaning closer. ""Look who's begging now."
They were in too deep now, lost within the mess they'd made. Regardless of how far they ran, how much they tried to avoid it, some invisible string; perhaps of fanatical lust, fate or even inexplicable love kept tugging them back in.
His lips collided with hers, body relaxing at the familiarity of it all. Her hands clung to his shirt as if reaching out for something to tether herself.
The lines between right and wrong, morality and sin seemed to blur. Anyone could be watching them, feasting their eyes upon such a scandalous sight.
Yet, they didn't care, too far gone in their fervorous longing.
The eleventh harbinger pulled away and his teeth grazed Y/N's neck as the wind ruffled his hair. To her horror, Y/N couldn't stop the whimper that escaped her lips.
"Accept it." Childe groaned, inhaling her perfume, intoxicating his senses.
"Accept what?"
"That you want me."
It didn't matter what she'd been taught. The irrevocable feeling in her heart had grown far too big to be contained.
"You're the only one I could ever want."
Childe smiled, not snarkily like when they fought, but of genuine joy and Y/N could have sworn the stars seemed to dim in comparison to it.
Summary : After Teyvat had been wiped clear of the memories of the sixth harbinger, the Wanderer heads towards a place of thoughts of reminiscence; hoping to find the only one who'd ever understood him.
Genre : Angst, Romance
Scaramouche walked ahead, trodding a path of moss and grass. Squirrels scurried away with every step he took with his wide hat fluttering in the wind.
He had escaped from the Fatui, left behind his dire thirst for vengeance and was now a shell of the harbinger he had been with only memories of his exploits. Memories that only he would remember for the world has spun ahead without him.
He was a lone Wanderer, the nature was his humble abode. He had no name, no home and didn’t have anyone’s arms to go running into as the night grew cold.
Well, no one except her.
He could see a harbor appearing before him, huts rising beneath the clear night sky. Pin pricks of light shone as families slumbered inside, lost to the land of dreams.
Scaramouche hurried beneath the archway, his pathetic excuse of a heart growing warm at the thought of seeing her.
At the thought of hearing her laughter.
At the thought of feeling her touch as soft as the silk flowers that filled the air with their scent.
He turned around familiar alleyways, a path that his feet had lead to countless times; a haunting melody of his past.
Would she remember him? Remember the nights that they spent together and the rough kisses shared beneath the moonlight?
Scaramouche was afraid to find out the answer.
At last, he arrived at a house with rose vines that crawled along the rooftops, their alluring fragrance drawing him in.
Scaramouche took in deep breaths and cleared his throat, ignoring the way his chest seemed to tighten at the thought of seeing her face.
He knocked on the door thrice, loud and clear in sharp contrast to the flurry of questions flying across his head.
Does she still remember the love she had for me?
Scaramouche needed her to, for the notion of not being the object of her affections left him in a cold sweat. If she looked at him like a stranger even after holding him close to her chest at a past which seemed like it was an eternity ago, he wasn't sure what he'd do.
The door swung open with an ear piercing creak and there she stood, the woman that had once melted through the cold defenses of the sixth harbinger, locks of hair falling across her face.
Scaramouche gazed into her eyes, waiting, yearning and even pleading within himself for a sign of recognition.
Yet nothing came, only a look of confusion.
Y/N stared at the man before him, the way his blue eyes seemed to twinkle like the stars in the sky and the billowing clothes that adorned his frame.
"Excuse me, do I know you?" She asked, wariness evident on her features
It felt like a hole had been ripped open in the place where Scaramouche's heart should have been. Screams threatened to rip from his throat as memories of small hugs, shared chuckles and the way her hand had felt in his flashed past his eyes.
They were being set aflame, falling apart to ashes.
"Sir?" Y/N asked, eyebrows furrowed "Do you need anything?"
Scaramouche swallowed the bile that threatened to rise up his throat before replying. "I'm just a traveller and I'm very tired after my long journey. Do you know where I can find a place to rest?"
Please, laugh in my face right now and tell me you're joking. Tell me that you obviously remember me.
I can't lose you too, the only thing that made this tapestry of lies worth living.
"Just keep walking ahead and you'll find the Crescent Inn, it's a very comfortable place, I'm sure you'll like it."
He looked down, tears welling up at the rim of his eyes. His lips trembled as he forced himself to stare at the ground at his feet.
"Are you okay? Do you need a glass of water?"
There it was, that familiar concern that had drawn Scaramouche to her in the first place.
He met her questioning face. "No, it's just been a tough day. Thank you and I'm sorry if I bothered you."
Y/N smiled weakly before slamming the door on his face. Scaramouche turned around and left through her house's gate. The ground beneath him seemed to be tumbling down with every step he took.
He'd made it past her house before collapsing onto the ground, bellowing curses to the wind as tears ran down his porcelain face.
He damned the gods, their lies and torments and how with each of their intervention, they'd ripped apart any chance for him to hope in this world and had forced him to leave a trail of regrets.
Scaramouche had scoured marshes, crossed deserts and climbed the most ruggedy of mountains to find Y/N, only to lose her yet again.
"Scara, look at me."
"Why do you even care for me?" He asked haughtily "A mere mortal like you, do you really think you could satisfy me?"
"You and I both know you aren't fooling anyone with that rude act of yours."
Scaramouche stepped closer to her, brushing the hair from her face with his slender fingers. "Fine, then can you love a puppet, a broken creation like me? I don't even have a heart to give you."
"I love you just as you are, you're more than enough for me." Y/N held his hands, slowly caressing his palm
"Even if it meant tearing Teyvat apart, you're the only one for me. No one else could ever compare to you in my eyes." She continued, a light hue of pink sprinkled over her face.
"I'm not a good person, Y/N. I've killed so many people and I will have to keep doing so. I could harm you, maybe even ruin you and I don't want to do that to you."
"Scaramouche." She muttered, holding onto his hands even more tightly.
“Even my own creator, my mother didn’t want me. I’m not even sure if I’m capable of loving you to extent you deserve without a heart.”
“Enough.” She pulled Scaramouche into a tight embrace, engulfing him in her affection. “I don’t care about your mother or what the world would think of me if I stood by your side, all that matters is that I get to spend a lifetime with you.”
Scaramouche stiffened, muscles tensing as Y/N wrapped her arms around him. “A lifetime would never be enough for me. I would consider your death as the utmost betrayal.” He said, straining his voice to keep its composure.
The darkness of the night couldn’t hide the hurt that flickered on Y/N’s face.
“But at least let me have this.” He whispered, voice soft and vulnerable as the facade of the powerful harbinger shattered into pieces like shards of glass. Scaramouche buried his face into the crook of her neck, nuzzling against her soft skin.
"We can stay like this for as long as you want." Y/N hesitantly placed her hand atop Scaramouche's head, running her fingers through his hair. "As long as an ounce of life exists in my body, my heart will always beat for you."
The sixth harbinger pushed away, the thoughts behind those blue eyes unreadable as he allowed his gaze to wander. "Do you promise that?"
Scaramouche knew promises were worthless in the face of the monster known as time, but he still wanted to hear it.
"Of course I do." She smiled and with such a simple gesture, she managed to completely untether the course of Scaramouche's world.
He didn't know if it was the way the moonlight shone of her face or if it was the alcohol making his mind fuzzy that allowed him to even consider the daring thought that entered his head.
Perhaps he had lost his mind because he placed his lips upon hers, as tender as a fleeting butterfly.
She tasted like honey and Scaramouche allowed himself to drown in the feeling of her body against his and the way his hands fit perfectly against her waist. He’d never been a believer of the gods but at that moment, he couldn’t help but pray that this would last forever.
Scaramouche wanted to laugh at the wind, at the irony of it all. He certainly hadn’t grown wiser about trusting mortals after three betrayals.
Three betrayals and he still wanted to go crying into the arms of a human.
Three betrayals and he'd still allowed himself to let her escape from his grasp.
Every leaf and bird of the forest seemed to sing the words that Scaramouche had been terrified of saying when he was somebody that she used to know.
The breeze seemed to whisper in his ears, taunting him with the three words which if he'd said, might have changed everything.
I love you.
But it was too late and those words would forever remain sealed within Scaramouche, shut within the fortress of his unspoken desires.
Summary : Two souls, willing to do anything for power and marred with the claws of betrayal meet again. The tension rises and self caution is thrown aside.
Genre : Romance, Enemies to Lovers
Warnings : Manipulation, a bit of dub con and some making out
Some angst too if you squint hard enough.
Soldiers, with faces as expressionless as the statues of shrines atop mountains, dug their nails into Y/N's arms.
"Move faster, unless you want to find a sword buried in you." Snarled Meruticco, captain of the royal army "His majesty shouldn't have to wait for so long for such vermin."
The woman swallowed the urge to roll her eyes as a scoff threatened to escape her lips. Of course, the general would be another one of those sheep following blindly behind the king, lost to the throes of devotion.
As Y/N trudged ahead, the marble floor gleamed from the light of the chandelier which hung above and portraits of men and women from a time lost to the wind loomed at her, their accusatory gazes following her steps.
Amidst it all, sat a man atop a throne studded with emeralds and rubies that shimmered faintly with a goblet of gold in his hand. He brought the goblet to his lips and sipped slowly, eyes closed in ecstasy as a drop of wine ran down his lips. As though he'd just acknowledged the presence of his subjects, he opened his eyes; gaze falling upon the woman cloaked in silk before him.
"Your Majesty," Meruticco went on his knees, head down "I, your faithful servant, have brought you the rouge that has wreaked havoc in our lands, Y/N."
The king glanced at the bounds that tied Y/N's hands, yet a word didn't escape his pursed lips. He raised his eyebrow, boredom playing behind his red eyes as if to ask : is this all you've to say?
Meruticco, sensing his master's displeasure continued hastily. "King Cyno, rest assured she shall never see the light of day again. I swear by my sword-"
His words fell short as the king raised his hand.
"If you're done with the theaterics Meruticco, which I can assure you was a complete and utter bore, leave me with this prisoner and take the soldiers with you."
Y/N couldn't help but stare, in this paradise of luxury, the king seemed to glow on his own; radiating poise and power. He had everything she would never get, fame and riches.
She understood why he'd betrayed her, left her to die in the sands and walked ahead. If it meant having a kingdom full of adoring subordinates in the palm of her hand, Y/N was sure she'd have done it in a heartbeat too.
Confusion flashed in Meruticco's features yet he obeyed and left, the soldiers following behind him.
King Cyno set his goblet down, running his fingers through his white locks that cascaded down his shoulder. “Found you, Y/N. At long last, I get to see that face of yours. Tell me, did you miss me too much?”
Hatred simmered in the pits of Y/N’s soul as she spat out. “Don’t make me laugh, Cyno. Tell me, how does it feel to gorge on what was supposed to belong to me?”
Cyno’s lips spread into a grin, a frantic feeling overcoming him. “Oh how I’d missed this your boldness. Why don’t you come a bit closer and say that?”
“What if I refuse?”
“Then I command you as your king.”
“You will never be a king in my eyes Cyno, you aren’t worthy enough to be one.”
“You’re my prisoner and I can have justice be served at any instance.”
Y/N stepped forward, footsteps echoing through the chambers. “I’d like to see you try.” She scoffed
“You always were all bark and no bite. Perhaps that’s why you couldn’t kill me in the first place when I considered you as an ally, isn’t it? I can’t imagine how much you must have been itching to hold a blade against my throat. Don’t deny it, you were always too weak to do the act.”
Red flashed across Y/N’s vision and she stormed towards him. With a flick of her wrists, the ropes that bound her flew away. In an instant, she was upon the king, with her hands around his throat.
Y/N could feel his faltering breaths and steady pulse beneath her fingers. She stared at his face, up close she could make out the way the flecks of light fell upon his visage.
The corners of Cyno’s lips pulled into a smirk as he pulled Y/N closer to him, dragging his hand across her thigh. She fell upon his chest and heat rose to her face, but her resolve remained set in determination.
“My, doesn’t this remind you of old times, Y/N?”
Y/N ignored his snarky remark and tightened her grip on Cyno’s throat. At that instant, the air surrounding them crackled with electricity and a surge of pain ran through Y/N’s body.
She hissed, pulling away. Cyno grabbed Y/N’s face, forcing her to meet his gaze.
“Look at me, Y/N.”
She adamantly refused to meet his eyes, outright wrenching her face away from him.
“I said, look at me.”
Y/N forced herself to meet his piercing stare, teeth grit. “Get your hands of me, I’m not some concubine of your court. If you want to kill me, fight me like a man of honour without these silly games.”
“If I’d wanted to kill you, I could have done it long ago. Besides, don’t be silly, since when has there ever been any honour in between us?”
“Then what do you want from me?”
“You.”
Y/N’s eyes went wide before narrowing in suspicion. “Don’t think I’d fall for that again, we’ve already done this charade before.”
“Don’t act as if you were innocent, you tricked me too. You were going to sell me off to the rebels.”
“Even more reason for me to not believe a single word that comes out of your mouth.”
“We’ve betrayed and fought and killed for each other, to find each other. No one has seen you the way I have and we both know there’s no equal for us both other than ourselves. I want you, I need you and if you run away now, I would burn the world to find you again.”
All the possible words that could have escaped from Y/N’s mouth were stolen from her. Taking advantage of the temporary shock, Cyno caressed her face; something akin to affection in his touch.
Y/N felt herself getting lost and Cyno brought his face closer to here, his breath fanning across her face. “You love me Y/N, you can’t hide it from me.”
“If there’s one thing you should have realised from knowing me, Cyno, love and hate are two sides of the same coin.”
“Then let me love you, let me have you for as much as I desire.” The king whispered, running his fingers through Y/N’s hair.
“How long would you need to satiate your desire?” The thought escaped from Y/N's mouth against all sense of rationality.
“An eternity.” Cyno replied, steadfast in his answer
“Then show it.”
“Show what?”
“Show me how much you need me.”
Without a single word, Cyno closed the gap in between them, colliding his lips onto the lips of the woman before him; his sworn enemy, traitor, criminal and the thief who’d stolen away all his common sense.
The kiss was frantic as Y/N straddled Cyno’s lap and pulled his hair causing the king to whimper. It was a mess of passion, fury and desire.
Y/N pulled away, lips red and panted. Cyno raked his eyes across the body of his sole betrayer, heart thumping in his chest.
“Be mine.” He proclaimed, voice loud and clear as it rang across the throne room. “Be my queen and I would serve at your feet.”
Y/N grabbed Cyno's head and slammed the back of his head against his throne. "I would rather die. Every single time you sit upon this throne, don't forget that this kingdom will always be mine and I won't rest until I reclaim it and have your head mounted upon a spike."
Cyno groaned, vision blurring and at that moment, all he could see was her face and the fire that flashed in her eyes. "I wouldn't expect anything else. I could only meet death by your hands."
Y/N turned on her heel and ran swiftly outside of the castle, her hair flying behind her.
Cyno didn't attempt to stop her, but remained glued to his throne and not a single command for her capture uttered from his lips.
He knew that she would be back for more, to continue this relentless game of cat and mouse that never seemed to tire the both of them.
Yet, why did his heart seem to sting with a sense of betrayal? There was no way that she would allow herself to succumb to his temptations, she was far too calculative for that.
So why had he been the fool to give his heart to a woman desperate to shed his blood?
So I read a lot of books during my school vacation and I’m going to review them since my vacation has ended and school started today.
BOOK #1 SIX OF CROWS BY LEIGH BARDUGO (First book from Six of Crows duology) -
Ok so I LOVED this book. It had an amazing plot and pacing. I really admire how Leigh Bardugo made the characters neither good nor bad, but somewhere in the between. The world she made in her story is not black or white, but in shades of grey.
I enjoyed the action in this book a lot, especially in the last chapters where they were breaking out from the ice court.
And the tension between Kaz and Inej was really executed well. I was rooting for them the whole series. I seriously fawned over how the author expressed Kaz's inner thought and emotions.
And the backstory and dialogues between Matthias and Nina was so engaging.
I loved how we as the readers got perspectives from different characters because that showed different sides of the story.
When I saw Kaz‘s back story I literally cried. It was just so freaking sad how greed ended up ruining the life Kaz could have had.
My favourite character was Kaz since I found him really engaging and I loved the way he came up with ideas for his criminal activities.
However, when I first started the book, understanding all the new terms and places was a bit hard for me, but that didn’t affect my experience at all.
This story and the whole duology had diverse characters which I was so happy to see.
I also really enjoyed Inej’s character. She was strong and invincible as the Wraith, but a long time ago she was a scared little girl who had gone through a lot in the Menagarie, which still haunted her.
Inej was a breath of fresh air for me because usually when authors try to write female characters to make them empowering, they end up making the characters as “im not like other girls“ and literal Mary Sues with no weaknesses or basic character development.
Inej had her own demons she fought with, she had different sides to her, she was not afraid to protect herself but she was scared of her time at the Menagarie and missed her parents a lot. All these emotions made Inej feel human and real.
I really enjoyed the other characters to, but if I wrote about them this would become way to long. Overall, I loved the characters, action, place setting and plot.
I would give the book a rating of 5/5 stars, it deserves it.
BOOK #2 THE CROOKED KINGDOM BY LEIGH BARDUGO (Book 2 of the Six of Crows Duology) -
So first of all, THIS BOOK MADE ME CRY SO MUCH. LIKE BESTIE LET ME BREATH WITHOUT BURSTING INTO TEARS.
Second of all, I’m still not over the character death. This author broke my heart.
Third of all, this book was written so well and the writing was just immaculate besties.
So, The Crooked Kingdom had a lot of angst. Like a lot. It dove into the back stories of our characters and it left me crying looking like the ugly version of shrek.
The writing was so beautiful that I had to put down my book for a few minutes for my brain to process this masterpiece.
The way Leigh Bardugo wrote about the relationship between Inej and Kaz was literally perfect. I’m going to show you all a few quotes about these two from the book itself so you can understand what I mean.
~ “I would come for you.” He said and when he saw the wary look she shot at him, he said it again “I would come for you. If I couldn’t walk, I’d crawl to you, and no matter how broken we were, we’d fight our way out together - knives drawn, pistols blazing. Because that’s what we do. We never stop fighting. ~
~She smiled then, her cheeks red, her cheeks scattered with some kind of dust. It was a smile he thought he might die to earn again.~
HELP HOW DOES THIS AUTHOR WRITE EVERYTHING IN SUCH A PRETTY WAY.
There's also a gay ship between Jespar and Wylan (such cinnamon rolls) which was represented really nicely.
The characters backstories was written so well. They were all so unique and filled with emotions and really explained how the characters ended up becoming who they were. These backstories literally made me sob the whole day.
Leigh Bardugo, I would sue you for emotional distress if I had the money.
Leigh Bardugo explored each of the traumas of the characters and as someone with certain traumas, I felt that she wrote about such a sensitive topic in an appropriate manner.
As for the ending it made me smile and cry at the same time and I don't know if I can forgive Leigh Bardugo for the sudden character death she pulled of.
I would rate this book a 1000000000000000000000/5 stars. It was that good.
Would I sell my soul for another book in the six of crows series? Hell yes.
BOOK #3 A DARKER SHADE OF MAGIC BY VE. SCHWAB
The plot of this book was nice. I enjoyed how Ve. Schwab portrayed magic as both a dangerous and wondrous thing.
I liked the concept of the various worlds she had going on. However, these various worlds were only of London and I would have preferred if it explored various other places to.
There could have been more diversity between the characters though. It didn't bother me that much, but I would have enjoyed that.
The main character Kell was likeable. I enjoyed reading his emotions and inner thoughts, like how he felt he was just a tool for the royals and seeing his inner turmoil with the mistake he felt he was making.
The Dane Twins (basically the villains) were so coldhearted which was cool and they gave me a bi panic from the way I imagined them lol.
However I had an issue with one character called Lila. I liked that she had a thirst for adventure and felt trapped in a small little word. But she always gave of the vibes of "I'm not like other girls" which was a little bit annoying. Lila looked at other women as a bunch of idiots who fawned and threw themselves at men. Now I understand this story took place in the 1800's but even then there were women working in factories and as nurses. Not all were just nobel women looking for suitors.
Ve. Schwab could have instead made Lila despise patriarchy and capitalism, how the rich rolled in lavishes while trampling the poor who struggled in the streets. It really sucked seeing a woman tear down other women.
So I would give this book a 3.5/5 stars.
--
Ok so I did read more books during my vacation, I'll post that as a part 2 cuz I'm to lazy and sleepy to type anymore.
Anyways I hope y'all enjoyed this besties, I'll try to post part 2 as soon as possible. Bye and I hope y'all have an amazing day/night.
You detested a certain boy in your last years of school. You hated his condescending smirk, the way he loved to tease you with little 'funny' remarks and most of all the fact that he loved to compete with you over anything.
You were almost eighteen years old, you should be the mature person unlike a certain idiot and move on from this petty rivalry. But you couldn't do that when your rival was Han Seojun, the most annoying brat you've ever met.
Han Seojun loved the rivalry he had going on with you. He loved it when you glared at him and lived for the thrill of annoying you.
Every weekend you and Seojun used to do bike races just to prove that one was better than the other. You both loved seeing eachother riled up and so eager to win. Whenever Seojun won, he always rubbed it in your face and would make sure to boast about it every ten seconds. However whenever you won the bike races, Seojun would become the moodiest anyone had ever seen him and would compete with you even harder to your dismay. Han Seojun was a sore loser.
He never cared much about his studies and mostly guessed while writing his exams, at least until you came along.
Now, he always studies and prepares well for his exams just to try and get higher marks than you. You had always been cautious of your studies, but ever since your rivalry with Seojun, you worked even harder just in the hopes of boasting your better marks to his idiotic smug face.
He always sat next to you during lunch time just to rile you up more and make you groan in utter misery.
You had a part time job in a cafe as a barista and the instant Seojun found that out he just couldn't resist using that to annoy you.
"So Y/N, how about you go and make me some coffee. I'll make sure to give you a tip if your coffee is good." He would randomly say at school
You had chucked a school book at him and both of you had ended up in detention, but it was worth it since you were able to wipe that arrogant look on his face. And yet again, Seojun chose to annoy you even there.
Your rivalry had been the strongest until your final school year where things seemed to change between you two. You both stopped bothering each other and Seojun ended up becoming close with Suho and Jugyeong.
As much as you hated to admit it, you missed him. You missed his annoying smirk, the way his eyes seemed to light up when talking about his mother, his cute smile and you even missed his stupid pranks.
You had spent most of your time hating him and now you hated the fact that you missed him. You missed your bike races every weekend, eating lunch with him and just talking to him. Seojun didn‘t have time for silly old you anymore, he had moved on. Maybe you were just to attached to some silly rivalry with him to actually think he would stick around. Seojun had made really good friends and didn’t need you around anymore, so you let him go.
At least that’s what you thought until a few months later you stumbled across Seojun in the neighbourhood park during night. He was sniffling and his eyes were red and puffed up, like he had been crying.
You put your grocery bags down and sat next to him on a bench.
“Hey Seojun.”
He looked up towards you, his eyes filled with tears. Your heart shattered at the sight.
”Hey Y/N. Haven’t seen you in a long time.”
You looked at him for a few seconds and asked him tentatively
”Are you okay Seojun?”
At this question he seemed to break down and started sobbing. You immediately put your arms around him and engulfed him in the biggest hug.
”It’s going to be okay.” You muttered as you held him tight “No matter what happened, I will be there for you.”
After a while Seojun stopped crying, still in your embrace. Then he sat up.
”Sorry you had to see me like this Y/N.”
You scoffed “Don’t be silly, you’re also a human to show those emotions.”
”Thanks for being here for me.” Seojun replied softly
“What even happened?” You asked your voice filled with concern. You were worried about him.
And so Seojun told you everything. He told you about him and Suho. About how he liked Jugyeong, but she only had eyes for Suho. He felt good letting out all that he had gone through.
"I got my hopes up thinking someone like her would actually like an idiot like me." He said sighing pitifully "I know the decision I made of letting her go was the right decision, but it hurts so bad. Why did I have to like her?"
You sat there in silence for a few moments before saying "Love rarely works the way we want Seojun. You made the right choice and I know letting go of someone close to your heart hurts a lot, but there are people around you willing to help you through it."
"Like who?" Seojun said "I don't want to worry my mom and sister."
"Me." You said looking Seojun right in the eyes "I know we weren't exactly the nicest to eachother but I always did consider you as someone close to me. And I always help the people close to me."
Seojun stared at you for a few seconds. "Were your eyes always that bright?" He wondered because at that moment they seemed like stars
Seojun finally replied "I don't know how to thank you Y/N."
"You don't need to thank me at all." You stood up from the bench and held your hand out to him "Friends?"
"Friends." He said and grabbed your hand
Over the next few months you helped Seojun move on from Jugyeong. You took him to cafes and arcades, watched movies with him and helped him realize that what happened wasn't his fault. You both went back to your old routine of eating luch together and bike races every weekend. Seojun started feeling more like himself again. You both teased eachother as usual, but you both were closer now.
Seojun had comforted you all the time to and he couldn't deny he was feeling something for you. He loved seeing you smile, he loved holding you close and you were his top priority. You made him happy and he was so grateful to have you in his life. Even the flaws that made you human were beautiful in his eyes.
However, he felt scared to tell you after what happened with Jugyeong, so he kept quiet.
Meanwhile you were utterly head over heels for Seojun. You loved seeing him happy and you always made sure to be there for him. You adored both his perfections and flaws. For you, he was the best person in your life.
Though you were nervous to tell him how you felt, you knew telling it was better before it was to late.
You had hated Seojun for a long time, now here you were blushing under a cherry blossom tree in bloom with Seojun pinned beneath you. How quickly things change.
Seojun was very flustered, but he didn't push you away.
"May I?" You asked softly for his consent
"Of course." He said and pulled you by your collar to close any space between you both
Your lips locked together deeply and it seemed like they were molded just for eachother.
Seojun kissed you slowly and softly, like you were a fragile piece of glass in his hands.
Finally both of you pulled away panting, lips swollen and hair ruffled.
You both stood together, blushing for a while. Finally Seojun said with a grin "I can't believe you were the one to pin me down."
You rolled your eyes "Don't act as if you didn't enjoy it."
"You were just lucky this time." He said dramatically
"Whatever drama king." You said scoffing "So would you like to go to a cafe with me?"
"Shouldn't that come before the kissing?" Seojun said stifling his laughter when he saw your flustered face slowly turning red.
"This is the first time I've asked someone out!" You protested
"Aw, poor inexperienced Y/N." Seojun said smiling
"Shut up." You muttered embarrassed "So what's your answer?"
"Obviously yes." He said and pulled you in for another kiss.
--
Ok y'all I finally managed to write something without losing motivation. Go on, give me some applause.
