#//That's not very good of attempting to destroy me :3

[macabre-discotheque]

I found out LittleBigPlanet (like the entire franchise) is getting delisted altogether by the end of october Chat I am not okay THIS GAME WAS EVERYTHING TO ME IT IS ONE OF THE PILLARSTONES OF MY CHILDHOOD

so if an influx of lbp related art comes by do not be surprised

[starlitscars]

Made of ice

Jackson era! Joel Miller x F! Reader

Summary: One stormy night in the safety of Wyoming, it occurs to Joel that even though life has turned his heart into a slab of ice, there's a soft, melting spot buried deep inside... Only reserved for you.

Word count: 5.2k

Masterlist

Tags/warnings: MDNI, NSFW, implied age gap, canon-typical violence, Joel Miller needs his own warning, protective! Joel, soft! Joel, angst, fluff, smut, finger sucking, fingering, pet names, praise kink, language, no use of y/n, soft dom! Joel, negative thoughts, dea*h wish, self-doubt, self-confidence issues, Joel is a sweetheart here (but he doesn't think he's worthy of peace), rain, lots of rain, lightning, stormy weather, kinda established relationship, let me know if a tag has gone unnoticed.

Author's note: This is my very first attempt at writing for Joel Miller. I've had the idea in my mind for a few weeks now and it's hard to resist when it comes to him (did I say Pedro Pascal?) So I hope the details are accurate and if you decide to read this one shot, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did while writing it. If you want to be mutuals, I'll be more than glad <3

Divider by: saradika-graphics

Made of ice

You should've seen what you made of him.

The calm, slow beats in his chest are strikingly different from how he remembers them. In fact, he vaguely recalls the way those racing, dreadful patterns had carved themselves into his memory. With a rigid heart made of ice, it was nearly impossible to find the pulse in him, even at his most frightened, disappointed state. 

Joel used to walk into the face of danger with a rifle clutched in his dying grip, a life to save and thousands to destroy, and in all those moments any sign of life was nonexistent in him. There used to be rage, hatred, regret, and frustration... Oh lots of frustration, running through the veins in his body. He used to walk, talk, and breathe. But he wasn't alive.

Now he doesn't find it in himself to call it miracle. But somewhere between the lines, you happened. You happened and fuelled the dying fire in the far corner of his heart. He used to keep it empty and dark, like a deserted house with no furniture, a perfect place for the noises in his head to become loud and maybe help him stand the never-ending days of what everyone called life. 

You entered his life and now most of what he feels in these old veins is warmth, safety and attachment. Yes, he doesn't call it miracle, because his past doings are too  stained and unforgivable to deserve a miracle. To deserve you. The real miracle. The fathomable idea of what it feels to be alive.

Joel feels alive.

Some days, it feels like his wretched past is clawing its way back into his mind, calling those demons to end his days of peace with you. Some nights, he's restless... So terribly restless. What if you get injured on your next patrol? What if the Raiders attack you when you're out of the gates of Jackson? What if something bad happens to you the moment his eyes close? What if these damn what ifs come to life? This old mind tricks him into seeing pictures of what has never happened and probably never will. You always assure him that you'll be careful. He trusts you and your abilities, but he does not trust his fears. Because if life is too good, it scares him. 

It scares Joel Miller, way more than it would if he was trapped in a dark room with all of his fears and demons creeping on the cold hard floor towards him. He'd rather spend every day fighting off the Clickers and Raiders and every nasty threat out there, instead of pacing around the room and waiting to see if your patrols end well or not.

So he has no choice but to either convince Tommy to pick him as your patrol partner every damn time you have to do it – which he makes sure is as limited as possible – or occasionally keep an eye on you from a distance and let his thoughts consume him at the same time. Just like what he's doing now. 

His persistence in being close to you tends to earn him annoyed eye rolls and "She's more capable than that, Joel." comments from his brother... almost all the time. But he simply can't help it, and he thinks that you know it. Because you never complain nor haul him over the coals for his instincts and worries and the immense amount of care his rigid heart feels for you. He's silently thankful for that understanding.

You are safe here, he thinks. Even though he feels restless, his heartbeat has never been this calm. He sits and watches you on nights like this and there's only one thought ringing in his head. All the scolding is worth it. You're sprawled out peacefully on the bed. His bed. It must be straight out of a fucking impossible dream. You're here, in his atmosphere, in his menacing, guilty, dark presence... And you have chosen it knowingly. It's all he can ever ask for. 

The dim moonlight is swimming in through the curtains, casting a soft, silvery shadow over your face. Your hair is falling all around you like you're knowingly doing it... Posing for an artist just to paint this delicate beauty on a canva. 

Despite his bitter mood, a content smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Tearing his gaze from you, he downs the remaining whiskey and silently places the empty glass on the table, deciding that he needs a short walk to free his troubled mind. One morning, Maria woke up and decided that Joel needs to stay behind and help Tommy in fixing the issues in the town's only library. So you should have another partner for your patrol days for god knows how long. He fucking hates being told what to do. He fought tooth and nail to prevent that, and if you weren't there to stop him, he would as well turn the mess hall into another ruin that needed to be fixed – which only meant more time away from you. 

So it's going to take only two weeks, at worst. Only a terrible fortnight before things go back to normal. It's almost unbelievable how you have managed to awaken a sense of normalcy in him that he hasn't known in decades. Your absence is an instant threat to this normal life.

Maybe it's about time he gets used to it. He's not that weak. He shouldn't let his angers and worries run him. More importantly, he shouldn't ruin your much needed sleep with his usual problems right now. You've still got the weekend. He'll take a walk and be back here before you as much as stir in your deep slumber.

Oh. The damn library.

...

Jackson is eerily quiet in the middle of the night, enveloped by darkness and as isolated as it can be in this corner of the world. It's a stark contrast to how busy the whole community is during the daylight – bustling with happy greetings, careless jokes, movie days, small parties, and lots of work to do. It all asks for social interaction and he deeply hates it.

He hates when every passer-by's attention turns to you every time you step out in the open. He hates how prying eyes rove up and down your frame every time you walk into the bar. He hates how... He shakes his head, almost rolling his eyes at the loudness of these thoughts. Joel has to remind himself that he is the one you hold onto and introduce to everyone in every social gathering. The proud gleam in your eyes always placates him. There's no need to break a jaw in this town... Perhaps.

Lights flicker by the porches and the sound of his boots on the ground is the only sound that disturbs the silence. The sky is clouding over, distantly promising another stormy night in its gloomy wake. Occasional flashes of lightning light up the road and before Joel knows it, he's passing by the Tipsy Bison. It's 3 past midnight, no wonder why its doors are locked and closed. Either way he comes to a halt, letting the gears turn in his head as he opts for a very familiar path.

Your house. It's a short walk away from the bar.

Joel still recalls that day. How long has it been? Five, six, seven months? It feels like yesterday to him.

He'd had a terrible conversation with Tommy, not at all the way he'd planned it on his first day in Jackson. Things got heated up pretty quickly, leaving a bitter taste of rejection lingering on his tongue, the burn of the whiskey only worsening his mood.

"Just because life stopped for you, doesn't mean it has to stop for me..."

The words were ringing in his head as he stormed out of the bar. Shrugging his jacket on, all he wanted was to walk as far away from that area as possible. This affronted, begrudging, irrational sting was boiling in him and in that moment he was more than ready to leave the gates of Jackson even if it called for more danger. Life had really ended for him years ago, but to hear it from Tommy right after the hell he'd went through to find him... It really hurt. 

The pain was resurfacing in rapid tides.

If his boots could dig deeper, get stuck in the snow and propel him into the cold biting blanket of the earth, he'd welcome it. If life had really ended for him, he had to make it make sense by ending himself as well. This... There was this distant melody echoing in the air and cutting through his troubled thoughts. The wind was harsh against his ears, and each step brought the melody closer. 

It really could be the last song that played before his funeral.  

Joel was surrounded by all the colors, and all he could see was white, eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't pay much attention as he bumped into someone. He barely lifted his head to apologize, and then his gaze settled on the crackling fire on the left side of the road. 

Red and orange and yellow hues. It was a fresh contrast. His eyes were hurting from all the white snow.

He came to a halt, mindlessly waving at the person he'd bumped into. A dozen of kids had gathered around the burning logs in a barrel on the porch, rubbing their hands together and listening to the same melody he was entranced by. The same melody that he thought would be his burial hymn.

Joel's eyes followed their excited faces, wondering who they were looking at. He saw you mirroring their hopeful gleams first, and then he registered the guitar on your lap. 

To make the matters worse, you had tilted your head, shooting him a funnily quizzical look. He might've looked weird back then. The town's newcomer, with a permanent scowl on his face, maybe plotting murder as well (considering that it was the main topic in all the words that already flew around about him).

He didn't answer, still dead in his tracks as if he was immobilized by some invisible force. So you shifted in your seat, silently offering him a spot among the children as if to say "You can come over and join us."

He had two choices in that moment, either a polite decline was on the table or a dismissive frown. He looked over his shoulder at the bar and finally opted for the third choice – or so his mind created another choice for him – and he nodded, joining in on your little gathering without as much as saying a word. He really wanted to hear that song.

He never asked whether you knew the words to that song, but that night when he lay in bed and his thoughts were far from the idea that he wanted to bury himself in the snow, he vaguely remembered the lyrics. And it hit him hard, like a punch to the gut.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world 

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

He wanted to ignore how the words affected him in the middle of the night. It was the first night he could feel some semblance of peace, not sleeping with an eye open in case someone attacked them. Ellie was safe in another room. So he really considered that. He considered the possibility of staying. He was relatively new to the community... And so damn unaccustomed to the whole arrangement. He almost woke up the next morning and started packing before he remembered where he was.

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Those words stuck with him.

And his first encounter with you was a harbinger of different things to come.

One day of patrolling with you led to another, one night of inviting you for a drink led to another. One peaceful afternoon in the stable led to another. One gloomy evening in the clinic did not lead to another. He was way too protective of you to let that happen again.

He truly feels lucky. You could be anywhere else, better off if you picked anyone other than this grumpy, old man. And yet you still want him. You silly girl. You've melted his heart with your warmth. 

But he's like a lake, deserted in the middle of a haunted forest and engulfed in coldness. Even though the center is warm and gooey, he keeps the surface frozen and rigid and menacing. Hard enough to keep his instincts sane and alarmed. Cold enough to let everyone know that you're his and he will not fucking share. 

Lightning strikes again in the sky.

He lifts himself up and off your front stairs with a heavy grunt. An hour has passed since he left for a walk. The clouds have fully gathered in the sky and he thinks that he should be by your side now.

Joel really cares little for the details, always asking Tommy and Ellie to spare him the explanation and get straight to the point. But with you, it's hard to forget a couple of things. One night, a few weeks ago, you were pulling him past the threshold of your house. So adorably drunk and inviting. He was still a little pissed by how the rainstorm had ruined your nightly walk. Despite your complaints about sharing a kiss in the rain, he'd dragged you back to the nearest shelter possible, because he just didn't want to get fucking soaked. Joel didn't find it romantic at all. He was frowning, still pinning you against the wall for a begrudgingly needy kiss. You giggled into his mouth, playful fingers pocking at his chest. "Come on Joel. Let yourself enjoy it... All these neverending drops on the roof, the fresh earthy scent that comes after it... It's just really beautiful. One of the few things that kept me sane before I came here..." 

He's not really against the idea. But the changing weather doesn't bode well with him. One day is sunny, and the next is rainy and it just goes to show how he has no power over the situation.

Hell. A part of Joel is really terrified of the changing weather. One day it was scorching hot, and the next his boots crunched against the white blankets of neverending snow, reprimanding him for his carelessness. Time would pass whether he wanted to or not. He is still terrified, wishing he could stretch the time he could spend with you. God knows he wants an eternity with you. 

He has seen enough rain for a lifetime. He hasn't seen you enough. How could he enjoy getting soaked in tiny drops of water when all he wanted was to bury his face in the crook of your neck and stay there for a while – maybe forever and a little more?

But he has considered it since then. If there are a few things that keep you happy and rainy days have to be one of them, he'll give you that. He'll get used to that. There's no pattern with the rainfall in here, and the weather forecast is pretty much nonexistent. He has promised himself to tell you whenever it rains, even though he despises the idea of you catching a cold after minutes or hours of dancing in the cold, letting droplets of water wash over you without a care in this wretched world. 

He also despises the idea of waking you up.

But he knows you'll like it. You careless, adorable girl. He lives to see that excited gleam in your eyes. Everytime you show it, this old heart pounds impatiently in his chest and it all feels like the first time it has happened.

He's back home in no time. 

So, kicking his boots off as silently as possible, he trudges over and settles down by the edge of the bed, suppressing a low groan. His knees still ache from all the never-ending effort he's put in repairing the library over the past few days. Jesus, he just wants it to be done as soon as possible. It feels like he's losing so much time when he's away from you. Now that you're still pretty much asleep in the same position he last saw you, all Joel wants is to lie down by your side and melt in your warm embrace instead of having to fight with his thoughts and the world to not take away yet another precious piece of him. He can't afford to even think about losing you.

Each flash of lightning illuminates the contours of your beautiful face and he can't help himself when he lifts a hand and lets his knuckles gently stroke your cheek. Your lips are parted ever so slightly and you look so innocent in your unconscious dream. He almost backs down, part of him hoping that it rains throughout the day, just so he doesn't guilt trip himself for the pout on your face if you miss it. You need to rest.

As if you sense his hesitation, you stir in bed and lean into his touch. A low hum escapes you, and Joel is too weak to deny himself the softness it brings. His wounded knuckles are soon replaced with a calloused thumb and he wonders what's so interesting about these hands that never ceases to catch your attention.

One night at the bar, Joel had caught you actually staring at them and when he teased you a little about it, you just shrugged and grinned mischievously. "I mean... I just like them so much. Your hands are always warm, and... and that's all."

He shrugged it off that night. Ellie had also considered it a flex for him to have warm hands even in the coldest days of winter, but with you and the way you looked at him... It was different. He knew it was more than that. 

And when the nights he shared with you went further than his sinful thoughts had planned, you showed him that it was more than that. It was more than the warmth you found there. If anything, your helpless whimpers were an indication of how capable and strong these hands were.

Heat blooms in his chest. It simply is endearing. The way you always seem to recognize his touch and send his head spiraling with the idea that you want him to do more. You've never been afraid of him. You've never pushed him away. You've never judged him for the horrible things he's done. Jesus, it should terrify him. Joel should've pushed you away at some point, because he knows you'd be better off without him, but how could he muster the strength to do so? Since that fateful moment on your porch, your presence keeps on inviting him for more. More than simply existing. And God, if you knew how he wants to do more than that every second of the day... Only if the world lets him breathe a little.

There's another bolt of lightning and raindrops finally begin to drum against the window pane.

Joel shakes his head to get rid of those worrisome ideas. Propping himself on one elbow, he leans over ever so slightly and lets his thumb trace its way to your chin, up to your jawline, and then back to the soft skin on your cheek. He draws circles over the blooming flush and then his thumb is traveling down to your lower lip. Your mouth parts just a little more, breathing even and content and if he gets a grip on himself, he may notice that there's a ghost of a smile in there as well.

"Baby..." He whispers softly, his gaze drifting all over your adorable face. You really are a piece of art, tangled in the sheets, in the safety of his house, and your innocent hums are doing something to him. Some obscene voice that silently pleads for more. More and more... Just to give you more. 

You stir a little more.

He leans over and places a gentle kiss on your forehead, the sweet, fruity scent he's come to like a lot about you engulfing his senses. He watches every little movement with amusement. "My sweet baby... You want to see what's waitin' for you outside."

"Joel," you mumble sleepily, voice drowsy and laced with a hint of confusion as you rub your eyes and stretch your arms before looking around the dark room with a quizzical expression on your face. It doesn't take long for the realization to hit you and the familiar gleam in your gaze makes him smile. You stare a him, wide-eyed. "Is it- again?"

He chuckles and gestures at the window. "Yes, a heavy one at that."

Again, there's that hum of delight as you follow his gaze. The pitter-patter of the rain cheers you up like a lollipop would do to a child. It's maddeningly adorable.

You should be running to the backyard by now, but instead you stare at him for a while. It's his turn to be confused. Your smile gets broader by each passing second as your delicate hands trace his face and run over the salt and pepper patches of his beard. When you playfully ruffle his hair, your eyes are still droopy and dreamy and so damn kissable that he just can't help himself.

His other hand fondles with a loose strand of hair beside you on the pillow before twirling it between his fingers. You bite your lower lip and lift your head just enough for a brief peck on the tip of his nose. He chuckles, letting his fingers draw a line over the column of your neck, down to your chest, and at last they disappear beneath the sheets, settling comfortably on the warm expanse of your belly. 

Joel assumes that his presence is not too close to lock you in place, and yet not too loose to let you drift back into unconsciousness. You just have the perfect moment to escape. For goodness sake, rain is the one thing you choose over anything else. The thing you like a lot.

But you're still here, dazed eyes flickering all over his face and it just gives him a second thought. A new idea to test your patience. Seeing you still pinned under him and unmoving, was not really in his list when he decided to walk back home and wake you up. He chortles with amusement. If you want what he thinks you do, he could give you that... "Come on sweetheart, what's stoppin' you?"

His fingers drift lower, exploring the bare flesh of your thigh, right where his mouth was hours ago. Still as warm as he remembers, maybe a little bruised too. "It's all rainy outside. Ain't that what you wanted?"

"I know..." You mumble, an undertone of need sewn in your voice as you look down over the sheets that cover every movement of his hand. It's too dark for you to see anything anyway. He could easily toss the covers aside, but it's wickedly satisfying this way. "I'm- um, just feeling a little under the influence...and it's- uh, it's distracting."

His hand caresses its way to where he knows you need it the most, and you barely repress a shudder when his fingertips glide over your folds. But he barely feels you, a ghost of a touch hovering there as a smirk threatens to flicker at the corner of his mouth.

"Wonder if my hand's makin' a good influence or a bad one. What d'you say, baby?"

It pelts down steadily outside, but you don't seem to care the slightest about it. Neither does Joel. A low gasp emanates from you when his touch becomes proper, rubbing circles and spreading the slick over your clit as slow and unrushed as he physically can manage. You're still indecently wet after he'd brought you over the edge again and again before you dozed off... and the fact that some of his cum might be gathering in his hand is fueling his lewd thoughts.

You naughty girl.

"A very bad one, I see." He tuts, feeling your chest heaving up and down beneath him. It's easy to rile you up this way. Desperation is written in your expression... and he hasn't even started yet.

"She needs fixin', doesn't she?" Joel asks, bringing his movement to a sudden halt. You're too distracted by everything he does to form a coherent thought. He lifts an expectant brow, now actually waiting for an answer.

"Yes- yes Joel... need it so bad... so bad it hurts." You breathe, a helpless pout forming on your lips.

"I know baby. I know... Jus' lay down and let me take care of it, hm? How's that sound?" He demands again, but this time he doesn't give you a chance to respond as he pushes two fingers past your weeping hole, burying them knuckles deep within your warmth. You gasp at the sudden intrusion, eyelids heavy as you grasp his arm, squirming like a helpless, needy girl.

What a cruel man he is.

"Not off to a good start, angel. I know you can be more patient."

You nod quickly, biting your lip in an attempt to stop yourself from wriggling and twisting on the bed. For a split second, Joel considers pulling out to nuzzle his face between your legs and let the heat consume him. A perfect place to brave the cold, restless seasons. 

But his fingers aren't shy either. He starts with slow thrusts, effortlessly sliding in and out before picking up the pace. He makes you adjust to his rhythm, and when you let go and open up, the obscene moans and chocked out cries are all that fill the silence of the house. Jesus, he lives to hear them every day. He rewards you by curling his fingertips to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

You shudder particularly hard at that, more arousal pooling inside you and soaking his fingers. You're losing your grip with reality, and he can sense it as your legs begin to shake and your knee brushes over the denim of his jeans, but you still remember to abide by his "No squirming" rule.

You're so pliant and obedient in his hands that it does nothing but to spur Joel to give you more. And so he does.

"I like these sounds," He adds a third finger, tilting his head to whisper in your ear. "I dream about them all the time."

You whimper and tighten your hold around Joel's arm. When he feels that your orgasm is creeping impossibly close, his thumb joins and rubs rapid circles over your bundle of nerves and that's your undoing. You clench around him, walls tightening and squeezing his fingers deeper – if that's even possible – as waves of white-hot euphoria crash over your worn-out body and take over your senses. Your back arches involuntarily into him. A sound between a groan and a curse escapes his throat.

"That's it. Atta girl... that's it, so fuckin' beautiful."

His touch is unrelenting as he talks you through it with a string of sweet nothings. 

Only when you come down and rest back on the bed he slowly pulls out. You're panting heavily, face flushed and heated and so effortlessly seductive that Joel is sure no fucking artist could ever capture it in words of a poem or colors of a painting. Joel is the only one to witness this moment and it swells his chest with pride. He wants to drink it in, let it run through his veins like never-ending liquor.

He lifts his hand, smirking as you gape at the way it's glistening under the dim light. You're in awe. He softly places the tips between your swollen lips and you waste no time in swirling your tongue around them, licking the slick off as if it's a delightful lollipop. And the hazy look on your face says that it's more than just a sweet treat.

His own breathing hitches when you open your mouth a little wider and take him fully in, sucking and humming and driving him absolutely crazy. He shakes his head slightly, catching the playful gleam in your gaze.

"Hm. Still a very bad influence."

When you're fully recovered and satisfied, Joel lifts you up in his arms and walks towards the backyard, chuckling at your confused expression. You give a squeal and wrap your hands around his neck to keep yourself steady, at the same time trying to gauge what his next plan would be. You really have forgotten about the rain, haven't you?

He comes to a halt, making sure the blanket he'd just picked off the bed is not leaving any part of your body uncovered. The rainstorm has eased off considerably over the past hour, but he doesn't want to risk it. Keeping you warm and safe in the cold is and will always be his top priority, no matter if his back or knees protest from how much they ache. Hell, he aches for you and that content smile on your face. Nothing beats it.

"My girl still wants to go out, hm?"

Your eyes flicker between him and the half-open door, filled with excitement and delight and a tiny flicker of doubt. "Yes Joel... but...you sure you want to join in?"

"I don't know," He feigns innocence, pretending to think for a short while before his face lights up with an idea. "Do I get a kiss for it?"

You laugh and lean up to press your lips into his in a soft, lingering kiss. It's so tender and reassuring that he has to pull back before changing his mind and taking you back to the bed.

"Then it's settled."

It has been settled for a long time.

Maybe he can get used to it. Maybe you get a better idea of what you've made of him with your presence at times when he easily complies with things that make you happy. A heart made of ice, molten enough to experience the world with you all over again. Even if he gets soaked in the rain, he's alright with it. You kiss him and all the discomfort is forgotten.

He should give it time and learn to breathe again. Learn to stay, to settle. To let you know that you're all he sees.

Yeah, I don't want to hurt

There's so much in this world 

To make me bleed

Stay with me

Let's just breathe

Stay with me

You're all I see

The words are carved in his head. He chances a glance at the living room before walking past the door. Your guitar is placed on the couch. Maybe one day he'll bring himself to play his melodies for you too. He thinks that he's got a lot of time for it now. He wants an eternity with you, and in this wretched world, eternity lasts as long as you'll have him.

One, two... Ten droplets fall over him. He kisses you again, harder and longer. His ice-cold heart melts just a little more at your careless laughter. Just stay with me.

[ozzgin]

Is it just me or can I imagine a yandere with a darling who’s immune system and possibly everything about them just screams weak and pathetic, BUT their darling is actually very strong mentally and has and will create the most fucked up, batshit crazy inventions from what used to be harmless to something that can help them escape and possibly destroy everything in its path.

But at the end of the day, they become sleepy koalas who hug whoever is near them and fall asleep :)

This could be a request or rant, whatever you can think of! I just wanted to see how different yandere writers would interpret this small imagination of mine <3

But as always, stay safe and take care! everyone needs a break some time to time~

Sorry, but the moment I read the Darling's description, I instantly thought of Dr. Finkelstein from Nightmare Before Christmas. You know, Sally's inventor. 😭 So let me quickly write this down while I'm in my Shelley vibes, because I like the idea a lot. With a little twist, if you don't mind. :)

Yandere! Monster x Inventor! Reader

A frail inventor, and their affectionate rag doll that has been carefully stitched together for the purpose of a caregiver. An artificial existence, trapped within the confines of your lonely tower. Or so you might think.

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, obsessive behavior

"I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel..." [Frankenstein]

You dangle an old, rusty bell for a good minute before leaning back in your chair. The barely audible chimes are quickly swallowed by the loud, mechanical groans of the gears and engines occupying most of this room. No matter, his ears are good. You picked them yourself. And surely enough, within moments, the door to your laboratory opens and someone cautiously walks in.

A tall, slender man. Or rather, something meant to resemble a man. The skin is a clumsy patchwork of blues and grays - you're no talented seamster, sadly - gathering together the body parts in what feels like a parodic attempt at mimicking God and his image. You gaze at the creature approaching you with a tray of tea and sweets. Scarcely your best work, if you must adhere to honesty. Regardless of the quality of your labor at the time of creation, you are proud of the result. How could you not be? You know this man better than you know yourself. Every organ, every artificial nerve cord, every blemish and stitch of his body was placed according to your intentions. A masterfully detailed project that took you years to complete; not an easy feat considering the lamentable state of your health.

"Here's your deadly nightshade tea." The man places a small, porcelain cup on the desk. "Do let me know when I should take you to bed, (Y/N)." You wave your hand dismissively and stretch out your limbs. "Not yet. I am almost finished", you respond, returning to the mound of metal scraps and pipes before you. "Can I ask what you're making?" The pale creature lowers himself to your level, a curious smile plastered on his face. "It's a mechanical heart", you reveal boastfully. "Like the one I have?" You run your hand through the creature's hair affectionately. "Almost. I'm testing out a different way to build the valves, for a more efficient pumping cycle." You continue to explain the intricacies of your novel mechanism, occasionally sipping on your tea. "Who knows, you might have a sibling in the near future."

The man's smile drops in an instant, and his sunken eyes widen at your statement. "What? Am I- am I not enough?" You glance at the creature as he becomes increasingly frantic. "Don't speak nonsense. If it comes out alright, I'll upgrade your own parts as well. I'm a disciple of scientific virtue, of continuous improvement." Nonsense? Vile treachery! You might've chiseled the brain that throbs within the walls of his skull, but his mind is his alone, and you seem to lack a fundamental understanding of his feelings and thoughts. His ardent confessions of love are met with mockingly pitiful grins, in the way a parent soothes a needy child. Even now, your eyes reflect nothing more than sympathy towards his protest. A childish tantrum is what you're most likely thinking. You've no time for emotional bagatelles. He can read you like an open book.

You simply won't understand. There is no place for a stranger in the life he's crafted with his very own hands: you, and him, and the evening tea with a side of butterscotch biscuits, and the bedtime talks, and the stripped branches of the decaying tree that rap at the windows on stormy nights. You might be the Inventor, but he is not just a mere, humble servant, a rag doll to be tossed around or toyed with. As you will soon discover, after all.

You awaken in the midst of night with your temples burning from a much too familiar headache. Although it's not just the pain that has disturbed your slumber. You can hear rattles and thuds coming from the upstairs laboratory. An intruder? Oh, your creations! The sound of glass breaking and metal scraping sends you into spiraling despair. You fumble to reach the nightstand, patting the surface in search for the bell and keys. You shake the handle in a panic, unable to find anything else in the darkness.

The chaotic rustle abruptly stops, followed by descending footsteps. You hold your breath as the chamber door opens, but it's none other than your creature. "Another flare-up? Shall I bring you some medicine?" the man asks with monotonous courtesy. "What have you been doing? What's all that noise?" you demand, agitated, but upon lifting yourself off the mattress you discover your legs are numb and uncooperative. The man hurries to your bed with a worried frown, and you hear the familiar clatter of the keychain coming from one of his pockets. "Have you taken my keys? Cease this foolishness at once!" Indifferent to your reproach, he places a firm hold on your shoulders and forces you back down, tucking you in effortlessly.

"You must forgive my impertinence." he says in a pleading tone. "I do not wish to impede the works of your genius. As your partner, however, it is my duty to prevent you from making mistakes." You furrow your eyebrows at his words. "What mistakes? My invention was flawless!", you argue fervently. "Indeed it was, but not its purpose. What need have you for another being?" It is the creature's turn for a passionate speech. He stands up with a confidence you don't recognize and continues: "You should know by now that I am fit to perform any role. That of your servant, your caregiver, your lover, or anything else you may desire. You can resume your tinkering starting tomorrow, but such blasphemies to our bond as the one today will not be tolerated." He straightens his vest and reaches for the door handle. "I will prepare some tea to help you rest."

Inconceivable. Your own creation, built with your own hands...Has something escaped your attention? His dialogue is deranged, tainted by madness. "Have I done something wrong?" you mumble to yourself, deep in contemplation. "Nonsense." the creature turns to face you briefly. "It was you who created me after all. Everything is perfectly splendid."

[luvf4ngz]

HOT LOVE ON THE WING - jason todd.

Descripton: You’re not upset about your most recent breakup; you’re just upset you have no one to fuck anymore. Good thing your Shakespeare loving best friend, Jason, has a solution to that.

Contents: This Bad Boy Is PACKED With Shakespeare References, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cheating (Not By Jason Or Reader), You And Jason Are Absolute Fucking DORKS, Good Friend Jason Todd, Best Friend Jason Todd, Self-Indulgent, Cunnilingus, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Female Reader, HEAVY Banter, Hair-pulling, Vaginal Fingering, Squirting, Overstimulation :), Pet Names, Praise Kink, Dacryphilia, Soft Jason Todd, Dom Jason Todd, Missionary Position, Doggy Style, Cowgirl Position, Nipple Play, Spanking, Rough Sex, Dumbification, Fucked Stupid, Unrealistic Sex, Unprotected Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Spit/Drool, Goofy Giggly Sex, But Also Hard and Fast Sex, Jason Destroys Your Spiderman Panties :(

Word Count: 3131

Author's Note: If it wasn't obvious from the tags this is a repost from my AO3 hehe. This is genuinely my favorite fic I've ever written, I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :) <3

“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”

You threw open the door to his dorm, instantly honing in on his bed and diving into the soft plush. Jason is sitting at his desk, looking up at you from his book with a roll of his eyes at your dramatic entrance. 

“Well, hello to you too.” His tone is dripping with sarcasm, but his smile betrays his facade. “It’s nice to see you again, stranger. How long has it been, hm?” He teases, his words alluding to the fact that you’ve been spending less time with him lately in favor of being with your “new boy toy” - as he put it.

You let out a hum into the comforter before moving to your side to properly look at him. “Well I think you’ll be very happy to hear that I’m all yours again, Todd, so there’s no need to be jealous.” You cheekily reply. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His eyebrows knit together in confusion. You thought it made him look adorable.

“I broke up with my ‘boy toy’, as you so politely called him.” You giggled out, using your fingers as quotation marks for emphasis. 

“What!? What happened?” Jason’s eyes widened at the news you so casually dropped.

“Apparently he’s been cheating on me for some time. My friend showed me some pictures of him shoving his tongue down some girl’s throat at a party so I broke it off with him this morning. Anyways, what’s been going on in Jay-Land?” You grin widely as you gaze at him from the bed.

Your attempt at changing the topic of conversation went unsuccessful. 

Jason sat up from his spot, setting his book down before hurriedly making his way over to you, settling down beside you on the bed.

“Are you okay?”

“Don’t I seem okay to you? I’m just fine, dude.” You tried to reassure him, your voice unwavering and relaxed as your eyes followed him.

“I mean, I guess; but I thought you really liked him.” 

“It seems like you want me to be sad over this. What do you want me to say? ‘Tears seven times salt burn the sense and virtue from mine eyes!’” You gasp out the line dramatically, bringing a hand to cover your heart and the other to wipe non-existent tears from your face, before bursting out into giggles. 

“Don’t you go quoting Shakespeare at me! That’s my role in this friendship!” Jason playfully nudges your shoulder as a wide grin breaks out on his own face.

“The Jason doth protest too much, methinks.” You do your best to put on a snooty tone, but your laughter prevents it. 

“Oh, shut up.” 

Another round of cackles start up between the two of you, and you both relish in the comfortable silence that falls after. 

“You know,” You start, breaking the silence and making Jason’s head turn towards you. “There is one thing I’m sad about.”

“What?”

“His dick game was mad good.” You say with an extravagant sigh. “I’m gonna miss it.” You fake a few sniffles.

“Aw, come on now. There’s other dick out there.” 

“Nah, it’s too much work. I’ll just have to survive without it for now. ‘But I have that within which passeth show; these but the trappings and the suits of woe.’”

“I can’t believe he’s got you so cock-drunk that you’re quoting Hamlet.” Jason tsks out in false disapproval. “He’s not good enough to be depressed for.”

“He’s not, but the sex definitely was.” 

“It couldn’t have been that good.”

“It was.”

“Not better than what I could do though.”

“Ehhhhhh…” You squinch your face together in overplayed disbelief, causing him to fix you with a sharp glare and a hurt gasp. 

“Is that a challenge?” He smirked, his eyes narrowing in competitiveness. 

“I know it not ‘seems’.” 

“You cheeky motherfucker.” Jason smiles out before grabbing your waist and throwing you further up the bed. It causes you to let out a startled yelp as Jason moved to hover over your body.

“Oh? You gonna prove it to me, Todd? You must be overcompensating for something if you get this riled up over such a small comment. You know, if you wanted to fuck me - you could have just asked.”

“Funny, I was about to say the exact same thing.” He leans in to bite your neck, making your body jolt against his.

“Hey! Play nice, Todd.” You scold, slapping his shoulder before wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m ever so sorry, madam.” He fake pouts before attacking your face with kisses. 

“Stop!” You squeal out, giggles erupting uncontrollably from the ticklish sensation. You move your hands to his chest, pushing him away from you. “Are you ever gonna get on with it, or are you just gonna keep messing around?”

“That’s a fair thought: to lie between maids’ legs.” 

“Ugh, it doesn’t sound as good when you do it.” 

“Excuse you? I’m a Shakespeare quoting champ!” 

“You’re awfully defensive today, Todd.” You note with a grin. 

“Keep talking, princess, see what happens.” He jokingly warns. 

He pulls back from you to pull his shirt over his head, before going to tug at his pants. You follow after him, sitting up to discard your own clothing. Once you both are left in your underwear, Jason pushes you flat against the bed again. 

“Spiderman panties. Cute.” 

“Shut up. It’s not like I planned for this to happen.” You grumbled out at his observation. You forgot about them and your cheeks burned with embarrassment.

“Mhm, sure, sweetheart.”

Jason starts planting sloppy kisses on your skin, trailing his way down your body until he’s reached your waistband. He shuffles down the bed and lies down between your legs, leaning in to snatch the fabric of your underwear between his teeth and ripping it off your legs. 

“Jay! I liked that pair!”

“My bad, princess, I’ll be sure to buy you some new ones.”

“Better still be spiderman.”

“I’m more Team Cap.” He disserts before gripping your thighs and dragging your core closer to his face; the back of your calves rest on his shoulders. 

His eyes drag down your glistening pussy before he lets out a loud wolf whistle at the sight.

“Ew, Todd!” You laugh, trying to kick him for the action but the hold he has on you is too tight to allow movement. 

“What? I’m just appreciating the view.”

He dips his head down, tongue flicking at your hooded clit before he wraps his lips and around the bud and sucks. He feels your thighs tighten around his head as your own tilts up to let out a loud moan. He replaces his tongue with his fingers, expertly working the nub in circles as he peers up at you. 

Your head is turned to the side, eyes clenched and lips spilling shaky whines. 

‘A damn nice sight’, if he did say so himself.

He continues to stimulate your clit with his thumb, pressing his tongue to your dripping hole to lap up your arousal. 

“Fuck, Jason! You really know how to put the money where your mouth is,” You mumble into the sheets, hips bucking up every once in a while from the pleasure. 

Jason grips you tighter, preventing you from moving. He briefly looks up to note “I think you’ll find I know how to use my mouth quite well”, before moving to continue eating you out.

His actions are faster, more feverous. His tongue runs up and down your sex, your slick coating his taste buds. He savors it - lets out a deep hum that reverberates through your pussy and up your spine, sending shivers through your body. He sucks and slurps at you, so passionate that you swear you can feel your soul escaping through your cunt. The wet smacks do nothing but turn you on more, your thighs pressing closer to his head and acting as earmuffs. 

Your hands move from their place bunched in his sheets to his hair, tanging the dark locks between your fingers and instinctively tugging. It causes a low groan to tear from his throat, the bass and depth of it fueling the uncontrollable hot ache in your stomach. That only makes you want to do it again. The second tug makes a sound that’s akin to a growl, before Jason pauses his movements to stare up at you.

“Careful, princess. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.” 

It’s a sight to behold. Jason: heaving, eyes blown, his face shiny from your smeared slick. His mouth is open, panting - his gaze refusing to leave contact with yours. There’s mischief glimmering in the depth of his eyes. 

You don’t reply - only smirk, and yank his head closer to your sex again. 

“Oh, you’ve done it now.” 

His hand moves from your clit to your dripping hole, two fingers pushing their way inside you. His lips reattach to your clit as he starts to move his fingers - fast and rough and leaving you no time to adjust to his intrusion. 

“J-Jesus fuck!” He can feel your thighs twitching, can feel your fingers gripping onto his hair hard in response, and it only spurs him on more. 

His palm smacks against your cunt with each hit, splattering your slick. His fingers move at an unfathomable speed, pads searching for that one spot inside you that will make you see white. 

You’re whimpering and whining above him, senses overwhelmed at Jason’s rough ministrations. It’s too much: the pressure building inside you. It feels like you’re on the edge, senses ready to fall into a never-ending pit of endorphins and fear and exhilaration. There are fireworks inside you, lit and ready to burst and fry all of your sensibilities. 

Finally, it happens - what Jason’s been waiting for. With a slightly tilted angle of his hand and a curl of his fingers, he finds it. He knows because you suddenly tense up; because you let out the most angelic, strung-out moan he’s ever heard; because your walls clamp down on his fingers and a jet of tangy, sweet liquid hits his awaiting tongue. 

God he wishes he could watch you cum over and over and over. He’s gonna think back to this moment when he’s fucking his fist in the future - that’s for sure. The view of you - back arched, eyes teary. The sensation of you - warm and wet and tight against his digits. The sound of you - desperate and high pitched and wailing out his name. He wants it all burned into his brain.

“Jason, Jason!” Yeah, that’s the sound of heaven alright. “Jay! Stop! I came- I can’t!”

Hm?

Oh. He hasn’t stopped pumping his fingers inside you. Oh, well.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. You can take it, can’t you? You made a big show of defying me earlier, put your money where your mouth is - right?”

God, you’re shaking. You look like a leaf shivering in the wind, or a cat left out in the rain. Your eyes are glossy and teary and fuck. You look so beautiful falling apart for him. 

Your brain is in shambles, screaming and begging for a reprieve. It’s dizzying, the assault of your sensations. All you can hear, think, feel is Jason.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, please!”

“Come on, princess. Just let go. Just one more for me, yeah?”

You can’t tell if the second orgasm hits you like a train or slowly drowns you in its weight. Maybe a mix of both - a crashing of a tsunami that simultaneously relieves your ache and steals your breath. 

You’re sobbing, trembling, gasping for breath and trying to regain feeling from the clouds that seem to have replaced your nerves. 

“You did so well.” Jason cooes. He’s sitting up, suckling your juices from his fingers like you were a decadent 5-star meal.

He moves to lay down beside you, pulling your body to curl into his, back to peppering your cheeks with chaste, affectionate kisses. 

“Fuck, Jason.” You heave out, still slightly out of it. 

“Was that okay? Did I get carried away?” He questions softly, concern lacing the green in his eyes. 

“Yeah, no, that was great.” You quickly reassure him. “I just- wow. I need a moment.” 

He chuckles quietly before holding you close to his body again. “So? Did I exceed your expectations?”

“Don’t get cocky. Hubris was the downfall of Macbeth.” You shuffle closer to him. “Speaking of cocky, is that a dagger - or are you just happy to see me?”

“I’m always happy to see you princess,” Jason croons. “but I am extremely rock hard right now, too.”

Your hands drift down his body, sensually tracing every muscle from his chest to his pelvis, before tugging off his boxers.

You swing your body on top of his, straddling his waist as you begin pumping his cock. 

“Well then” You start, positioning yourself on top of his awaiting member, “O’ happy dagger, this is thy sheath…”

You start to sink down on him as you finish the quote, your words trailing off into a wanton moan. 

“I’d yell at you for saying something so stupid if you weren’t fucking squeezing my cock right now.” Jason manages to huff out. His teeth are gritted, eyes shut as he tries not to cum at the sensation of you wrapped warm and tight around him. 

His large hands settle on your waist as yours plant themselves on his chest for support. 

“You have to admit, it’s clever wordplay.” You mewl, mind fuzzy from the sensation of his dick stretching you out. 

Tingles shoot up your body as the pain dissolves into a delicious fullness. You crave friction, your very core feels like it's aching for it. In fact, you think you’ll go insane if you don’t start moving right now. 

You carefully lift your hips up, before dropping back down again, repeating the motion over and over until you’ve built up a somewhat regular rhythm. 

Moans ceaselessly flow from your lips, interspersed with mumbled swears and curses.

Your head is tipped forward, your hair falling into your face. Jason’s hand comes up to brush it back behind your ear, before gently cupping your cheek.

“You feel so good baby, fuck.” He grunts.

His other hand comes up to undo your bra, releasing your tits to him. Both palms move to cup them, kneading at the soft flesh before working your perked nipples with his fingers. 

You still your movements with a whine, too confounded by the assault of stimulations you were feeling. That doesn’t mean that you’re not still desperate and yearning, though. Your thighs do their best to rub against each other, trying to chase friction despite your inaction. 

It’s only as you rest that you feel how sore your legs have become, enough that you let out a pitiful mewl. 

“Is my pretty baby tired?” Jason muses, while he’s still pinching and rolling your sensitive buds. 

“Mhm,” You moan out in reply. 

He quickly rolls the both of you over, laying you down onto your back again before flipping you onto your stomach. 

You quickly shuffle onto your knees, arching back against him in wait. 

“Good girl,” He laughs out. His palms rub against your cheeks, squeezing the flesh there before pulling back and giving it a slap. 

It earns him a broken moan from your throat, and the view of your ass shaking in desperation.

It only makes him laugh again. “Have some patience, naughty girl.”

He spanks you again, and you keen so high-pitched and pretty that he can only relent to your demands. 

Jason grips his cock and guides it to your wet folds, sliding it up and down before finally pushing in. You welcome him easily, pussy molding perfectly to his thick cock. 

A hand settles on your waist while the other tangles into your hair. He yanks your head back as he starts fucking you hard and fast. 

His hips smack hard against your ass with each thrust, slowly turning the skin there sore and heated. His cock is bullying its way in and out of you, the tip knocking against your sweet spot with a force that repeatedly knocks the breath and thoughts out of you. 

Your eyes are rolled back, brain melted, as drool drips from your lips. 

Chants of “fuck” and “Jay” are the only sounds your mouth remembers how to make now. 

“Just keep saying my name like that, sweetheart.” Jason pants out. 

He can’t believe how good you feel around him. You’re so warm and wet that his cock glides in and out so easy, making it effortless for him to abuse your poor cunt. 

The hand in your hair guides you up to him, back pressed against his sweaty chest as he tilts your head and leans in for a kiss. 

It’s messy with your spit and drool, both your movements uncoordinated and sloppy. 

He fucks up into you all the while, gravity allowing him to hit harder and deeper inside you.

He can feel that you’re close again - your body is twitching against him, your cunt beginning to spasm. 

The hand on your waist reaches to rub quick and hard circles against your clit, and you’re gone.

Your whole body shudders as you soak his cock, before going limp is his hold. It’s an intense buzzing sensation that overtakes you, settling deep in your veins until you’re trapped in a pleasing static. Your head is submerged in sticky syrup that makes it hard to think, so you just indulge in the calming weight of it. 

Jason pulls out and gently maneuvers your dazed body back to the bed, hand working himself to completion before finishing on your stomach - his warm cum splattering on the skin as he lets out a husky grunt.

He stays there, catching his breath for a few moments before he disappears to the bathroom while you come down from your high, washing his hands and grabbing a damp towel to bring back to you. 

He wipes you clean before poking your cheek until your gaze refocuses on him.

“How was it?” He cheekily smirks. 

“I certainly died a lovely death in thy lap,” You chuckle.

“If you can still quote Shakespeare I didn’t fuck you dumb enough.” Jason frowns.

“Awh, cheer up, you big baby.” You reach out to pat his head endearingly, “I change my mind; your dick game is definitely better.”

“YES!” Jason fist-pumps like he just scored a touch-down and you smile at how stupid he looks. “Okay, now you go pee.” He shoos you away. “I’ll change the sheets and we can watch reruns of Gossip Girl again.”

“I would not wish any companion in the world but you.” You fake tear-up, wiping your eyes before giggling the whole way to the bathroom. 

Thank you so much for reading! A comment or reblog is much appreciated. Have a great day <3

- sumi ☆ミ

ミ☆ masterlist

[imjustdelusionalok]

yandere!dc: goddess! darling

ⁱⁿᶠᵒ ᵃᵇᵗ ᵗʰⁱˢ ᵈᵃʳˡⁱⁿᵍ۫ ꣑ৎ

darling is a god from another world who just so happens to immigrate into the dc universe after a very long time of probably embodying... well, everything.

firstly having to live for love as a human, and then ending it all to fight for the beauty of life as god.

she is the reason for existence, from the big to the miniscule.

(so basically op goddess reader who has wayyyy too much power in their hands-- ex: nothing can kill them, nothing can put an end to them, etc--)

the least you could do is seal away her powers, but even that would truly not be enough because your only sealing away 0.000000000000001%. (i mean that 💀)

*cough* anyway... aside from goddess reader backstory, lets go to the inspiration <33

she's a mix of Madokami from Puella Magi, HoF Kiana Kaslana from Honkai Impact, and mostly of Ishtar Ashtart/Space Ishtar from Fate Grand Order <3

originally kind and lighthearted after becoming 'God', but as time passes and stars dimmed, she has become... well... neutral. not good, but DEFINITELY not bad. like this!

"let me help you :)" to "...From the dawn of creation. Man has come from the ground not by his hand but mine. go back to the land and return to dust."

summary: lawful, void, alien... yet beautiful, destructive, human.

sooooo. yup.

:p

ʰᵉᵃᵈᶜᵃⁿᵒⁿˢ ᵗⁱᵐᵉ۫ ꣑ৎ

...she has met the justice league before. because, who in their right minds would ignore the giant falling 'star' that came out of a very visible tear in the sky caused by said celestial body???

dramatically crashing down the surface like a meteorite, you lowkey may have destroyed a 'few' buildings... whoopsies :p

they are surprised. this... girl, no- alien, exudes endless quantity of power, leaking from every blurred pore. it also seems like they might be power themselves...

batman goes bazingas at the amount of destruction caused by your fall leading to an airheaded you getting towed to the JL headquarters and any sort of refusal or fighting back is unallowed. (even tho your more than capable of destroying anything AND everything you still oblige)

though cool as ice, you are so confused deep down. head tilted, vacant expression, the usual from the emotionally detached goddess albeit with a little change. 'what are these humans talking about?' you think, 'what threat?' you think again, unaware that you are the threat being spoken of.

the white slits of the vigilante's mask narrows at your disposition. everything about you seems... off. from your oppressing aura, to the... heavenly allure your blankness brings.

"more alien than the actual alien," a familiar scarlet speedster jokes, in an attempt to lighten the heavy mood. (he failed horribly btw) said alien rolls their eyes and sighs. though he has to admit, you lowkey look kind of cute... but he stops, remembering lois.

once you say your side of the story, they go all shocked pikachu faces again. your a god from another seperate world??? i mean dont get them wrong though, they had their fair share of situations like these, as some dc villains and heroes they know arent even from here originally. but they cant help but feel a bit different about you, something about you makes their soul writhe... and its not in a bad way.

so once B confirms your not a threat despite your extreme potential to act like one, everybody is relieved. you just need a littleeeeeee supervision, thats all :3

and oh look at that, your actually not that bad. your cold demeanor fades once they got to know you, and that void in your eyes is filled with a light comparable to the twilight star's soothing glow— pure, tranquil, and ever so mystifying.

every step you take, life seems to exist and flourish all around you. life heals around you. not only that, but also... them. the dead part of them actually, that died from complications now too complicated to be retold and remembered.

you fill the void they never knew they had, and all their aching scars were no longer painful but tolerable. bearable even, and its all because of you.

at this point, everybody knows how this all plays out. this ordinary tune, twisted into a fanatic's song.

their once innocent admiration has now spoiled into something darker, the more you stay in this world. holy eyes peeked at it, not at them but at the abyss that is their 'love.'

...you were starting to get aware. and a rarity occurred, you were... 'saddened'. for eternities you lived alone, and in an attempt to reconnect with that sliver of humanity you hid and kept, you went here to feel something again. and you did, and you were so successful.

too successful, in fact.

they loved you; so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, sooooo much. without you, they would die! :(

and that, in your eyes, is what makes you 'sad'. if your presence drives your beloved mortals to insanity's grip, then you must fly.

fly away from this despair, fly away from this madness.

your 'love' is your undoing, and ultimately also theirs.

their eyes widen as the sky is torn once again, and a familiar star flies back into it, meaning that you--- left. left? left. left? left... left.

something inside them breaks. both hearts any sense of rationality and morality left.

there is no reason to exist without you it seems, and they will do everything just to see you once more, even a second's glimpse.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

...you can't help but feel something you havent felt for a very long time. what was it again, sadness? anxiety? fear? you dont know. the endless rows of your ivory silks flutter even in the slightest movement. something tugs at you, your mind and heart. something tugs at you, telling... that it is far from over.

they call for you, their cries drowned in obsession masquerading as love.

you never answer, as your supposed concern and care for them lessens and your patience dwindles. reality is cruel, but never crueler than you. and that's when you realized it.

...they make your skin crawl. they make you want to vomit. they make you want to scream and cry. they make your ichor run cold. and if they touch you again, you'll--

...huh. who would have thought that was how you truly felt, goddess.

[worth-the-chaos]

Adventures in Babysitting Masterlist (ongoing)

Series Summary: As Dustin’s babysitter, you encounter the perils of the Upside Down as you try desperately to rid Hawkins of the evil lurking just below the surface. However, you’re not alone; you have the gaggle of kids as well as the one and only Steve Harrington by your side as you risk your lives attempting to solve the mysteries of your once quiet rural town | steve harrington x fem!reader (message me to be added to the taglist!)

Chapter summaries and links below the cut!

SEASON 1

Part 1 - You haven’t been babysitting Dustin for very long. Underestimating his tendencies for rebellious behavior, you realize too late that he’s snuck out, with your dire search for the boy leading you to the last place you wanted to be: Steve Harrington’s house. | Word Count: 6.5k

SEASON 2

Part 2 - With the events of last fall in the past, you attempt to move on, still working on your academics and babysitting Dustin. You and Steve have drifted since your encounter with the otherworldly, but he begins to make more active efforts to talk to you, making sure you have an invite to Tina’s big Halloween party. | Word Count: 6.3k

Part 3 - Billy is still hitting on you, Steve’s still mad, and Dustin’s still a pain in the ass to babysit. When he tells you and Steve that there’s a massive problem of upside down proportions, the two of you have no choice but to drop everything to help the boy, reprising your roles as badasses who eradicate the supernatural in Hawkins. | Word Count: 7.0k

Part 4 - Looking for Dart isn’t easy, but it gives you and Steve a lot of time to have a heart to heart, as you slowly start to realize your feelings for one another. | Word Count: 6.5k

Part 5 - The situation with the demogorgons gets increasingly more dire, leading you to the Byers’ house to wrangle four kids that can’t listen to save their lives (literally) while everyone tries desperately to save Will and the world. | Word Count: 8.9k

SEASON 3

Part 6 - It’s summer, and you and Steve are working at Scoops Ahoy so that you can make money while Dustin is at summer camp. The lines between friends and something more continue to blur as your relationship with Steve gets more intimate, allowing doubt to creep in…and the Russians are invading Hawkins. | Word Count: 6.4k

Part 7 - You continue attempting to translate the code, commencing your operation to determine the nature of Russian involvement in Hawkins. Robin and Dustin continue their attempts to push the two of you together, tired of the mutual pining…oh and Erica has enough sass to probably take out an entire Russian army. | Word Count: 5.9k

Part 8 - Well, the five of you do get in that secret room, but the problem is you can’t quite find a way out. Tensions rise as you realize the gravity of the situation, the forced proximity revealing hard feelings between you and Steve. | Word Count: 7.2k

Part 9 - Held captive by the Russians, tensions rise and as you and Steve attempt to navigate communicating in a drugged up haze, your feelings for each other become even more apparent. | Word Count: 7.4k

Part 10 - The Russian invasion and the upside down begin to merge as you meet up with the rest of the crew. You are in the fight of your lives as you scramble to try to stop the monstrous creature from the upside down before it destroys you. | Word Count: 5.8k

SEASON 4

Part 11 - Steve and you are finally officially dating, the kids are finally in high school and no longer need any sort of official babysitting, and life is overall pretty damn good. You try to push aside the unease settling in your chest, but how long can you ignore it before it manifests into something much worse than you could possibly imagine? | Word Count: 6.7k

Part 12 - The evil that you thought you had gotten rid of is still very much lurking within Hawkins. You, your boyfriend, and your friends race against time to try and find Eddie before it’s too late. | Word Count: 6.5k

Part 13 - As you all attempt to connect the dots of the gruesome murders occurring around your small but sinister town, secrets start to spill when Steve realizes you’ve been keeping things from him. | Word Count: 7.2k

Part 14 - Nancy and Robin take a shot in the dark and Steve tries to protect you from the supernatural. When the darkness comes to get you, will his love be enough to protect you? | Word Count: 6.0k

Part 15 - Racing against the clock, you and your friends desperately attempt to connect the dots before it’s too late. Your efforts bring both progress and peril as you and your boyfriend dive headfirst into life-threatening scenarios in order to save each other. | Word Count: 8.8k

Part 16 - For all your encounters with the Upside Down you hadn’t had to deal with it directly. Now, in a fight in foreign territory, you and your friends must struggle to find your way back to the Hawkins that you are familiar with. | Word Count: 9.7k

Part 17 - After finding out more information about Vecna, you and your friends prepare for the worst, and tensions rise as you mentally prepare for the possibility of a future without you in it. | Word Count: 7.7k

Part 18 - You venture into the Upside Down once again in an attempt to find Vecna and stop him in his tracks before he can bring about the end of the world as you know it. With Steve and your friends by your side, you fight against time to get to Vecna before he can get to you. | Word Count: 7.2k

SEASON 5

Coming soon!

BLURBS

Steve takes care of your injuries | Word Count: 2.2k

[akascow]

yet another JAYVIK post about the Butterfly Effect :3

also spoilers lol

So Hextech isn't invented in Ekko's alternate timeline, and I feel like since life seemed so much better without Hextech there can be a couple things to infer about alternate Jayce and, by association, our Jayce (and Viktor!) here:

this is a long one and my long posts never get notes but i promise its actually super interesting to think about so u should totally read through it 🧎🏻‍♀️‍➡️🔥

1. (and also my favorite one bc its Very JayVik lmao) alternate Jayce never pursued Hextech after the explosion: maybe too guilty over killing someone (because we see alternate Vi died from that explosion during the kids' robbery), he does what Heimerdinger advises him to: fully admitting his crimes and not mentioning the arcane. And we can assume the academy burned all his studies too becauseeeeee…

Viktor never endorsed it. Assuming the admission of guilt theory is correct- Viktor never would’ve even known about the arcane in the first place, because Jayce would never mention it in the council room trial. Viktor would never know that the arcane can be used to help cure people, which we see is what piques his interest in the first place. And like, obviously Viktor wants to cure his leg and illness lol

Which means Viktor never interrupted Jayce's suicide attempt after the trial and Jayce probably goes through with killing himself, Viktor never went to check on him. It seems the compelling force behind Viktor’s interrupting in season 1 was initially from Jayce’s journal, which he picks up while browsing all the Hextech equipment they were planning to destroy. Viktor only really looks at the notes because he was interested in the arcane in the first place, which again, can't happen if Jayce never mentions it in the council room. 

Which is SO important to the plot and me that everything happened the exact way that it did for everything to succeed (which is quite literally the butterfly effect btw lmao). Because it shows how extremely important Jayce and Viktor’s partnership was to not only their own lives, but the entire future of Piltover, good or bad ie no hextech=no shimmer and peace between the cities, hextech= tons of shimmer, the corruption of the arcane, and the destruction of piltover.

Jayce needed someone there to believe in him, and that was Viktor: After the council disagrees with him, and he’s kicked out of the academy and banned from studying the arcane, he tries to find comfort with his mother. She’s the one who was saved using the arcane in the first place after all, so surely she’ll understand. But she tells him to give up on this dream, a dream he’s had almost his entire life. His own mother doesn’t believe in him.

He then goes to the Kiramman’s because “I'll find someone to believe in me,”  most likely assuming if they sponsored his studies in the first place, they would still support him after the trial. But they kick him out from the Kiramman household too, as well as forbid his and Caitlyn’s friendship. And with no one left, the very next scene we see of him is as he’s deciding to jump. 

The only thing that stops him is Viktor showing up. With an interest in the Hextech theory after he reads Jayce’s notes, Viktor wants to help Jayce make the Hextech a reality. Viktor believes in him, and he supports him. That interaction is what leads to their partnership forming, them sneaking back into the lab, grabbing the Hextech equipment and showing Mel and Heimerdinger that it was possible to create magic, and Mel's influence leading to the council’s support and the okay on continuing to develop Hextech together, projecting Piltover into success (and of course accelerating it into ruin, seen in s2. but I won’t get into that snowballing effect here because we’ll be here for hours)

Also, Viktor would be against Hextech if his first and only introduction to seeing it was as a tool to invoke harm (on a Zaunite especially). Which is what would drive Viktor away from investigating it, and before their theory ever even has the chance to get off the ground or evolve, it's already dead in the water for good because:

Something both of them, but especially Viktor, have been extremely against during the entire show was that their plans for Hextech WILL NOT be used as weapons to kill or harm, only to make lives better (especially in the undercity). Think about it: Viktor only adamantly opposed using the Hexcore AFTER it killed Skye.

The guilty conscience of accidentally killing another person with his own technology would not have helped Jayce’s mental state either lol. Like, think about the DIRECT PARALLEL in our timeline: where Viktor almost jumps and kills himself, after Skye's death, as a result of his tampering with the Hexcore, before Jayce interrupts him (ohhh their mirroring, it hurts me)

2. If not from jumping, then alternate Jayce was arrested or exiled… I mean like, he inadvertently killed a young Zaunite girl. That's a lot more consequential to his conscience, reputation, house name AND criminal record than just the building blowing up in our timeline. It’s pretty vague if anyone died in our timeline from it, I think the most that’s mentioned is some people were injured (“Was anyone hurt?” “A building was blown to bits, what do you think?”) so it would weigh heavier on Jayce’s shoulders if someone actually died in this timeline.

Also remember: he felt so guilty about accidentally killing a child with his hammer in s1, that he gave up entirely on trying to wipe out the production of Shimmer. Once he sees how his Hextech can be used against someone, he drops all his plans because "thats not what we created Hextech for"

From that theory, I'm assuming more-so that he was exiled though? Because Heimerdinger said he was in the alternate timeline for like 3 years and couldn't find Jayce, so I don't know... plus I feel like he would have found Jayce in jail if he was there lol.

And beforeeeee anyone yaps, ik Heimerdinger actually said he thinks Jayce ended up somewhere else, and never specifically stated that he "couldn't find Jayce". BUT from the end, since we see two Ekko's before he goes back to the main timeline, we can assume that the original person's mind inhabits the other's body so that there aren't like paradoxical two people in one place at the same time. 

SO theoretically, Heimerdinger actually does go looking for Jayce, and if he found the alternate timeline's Jayce, he probably would've mentioned it to Ekko when asked if Jayce was there too… right? I’m assuming he was hanging around Ekko for most of the 3 years that he was there, waiting for our Ekko to be projected into the alternate Ekko, because it's not like Heimerdinger just happened to show up right when our Ekko gets there, he might’ve assumed it would happen eventually. And when the alternate Ekko starts freaking out about being in the wrong universe, it's pretty clear that this is his Ekko now lol

But then why stick around Ekko and not Jayce? I guess he was currently closer to Ekko, calling him his current pupil, and given that he was the one who showed him the Firelights community and gave him hope. Plus I mean, Jayce literally voted him off the council from a disagreement over the Hexcore so there's some salt in the wound there lmao. Or maybe because Ekko is a lot younger and would not react as calmly or rationally as Jayce would (I'm assuming... idrk HAHA). You could argue that Heimerdinger was just visiting both of them back and forth, but again if he couldn't find any Jayce, then I think it would explain why he doesn’t mention any Jayce at all, and that's where this make the most sense, at least to me.

3. alternate Jayce also died in the explosion with Vi- When we see it in our timeline, he and Vi were the closest to the blast. If it killed Vi, it would’ve presumably killed Jayce too. And if he did die, then obviously Hextech would never be invented, reasons being: everything I just mentioned in the previous theories.. but like, even more simplified bc he wasn't there to begin with lol

I only say it's a weaker theory because Heimerdinger definitely would've seen a memorial for him (or at the very least a gravestone), given Jayce was in the Talis house and under the study of the Kiramman family, it was a pretty high status name compared to the average Piltovian citizen, and probably wouldn’t be silenced or brushed away… 

Although to counter that, I guess since everything in the over city is super status-y, maybe the Kiramman’s wouldn't want their name being tied with the death of two people, which is a similar but obviously more significant reason to why they kicked him out of their house in our timeline after the trial, his “name is no good now.” Plus we hear in the council trial from Ximena that the Talis family is a lower house too, and their voice doesn’t hold as much weight, so maybe it wouldn’t actually have that much mention? He hasn’t become the “Man of Progress” yet either since he’d never get to finish his studies…hmmmmm idk

also edit but some ppl just pointed this out to me that viktor likely died from his sickness bc he didnt have the hexcore to heal him and that makes me SAD !!!!

anyway thats all i have. if you made it this far i greatly appreciate you :3 🫶🏻 i love analyzing this show because OUGH the jayvik butterfly effect goes CRAZY HARD bc its both figurative with the theory and literal with the butterflies being in SO MUCH of their imagery UGHHHHH what the FUCKKKK

also some shameless self promos symbolism of viktor’s humanity and jayce's hallucinations analysis posts if u liked this one :3c

[rey-jake-therapist]

Sauron, Galadriel and touch

Each time we see Sauron hug someone, touch their arms or their hair, put his arms around their shoulders etc. it's never gratuitous. He always has an agenda. He does that to manipulate them in a way or another, or to steal them something. He isn't a touchy type of guy, really.. I think he probably dislikes it, most of the time.

In Elendil's case, he probably didn't just pickpocket him but used some magic trick as well, because there's no way Elendil wouldn't have noticed. Not to mention that the dagger literally disappeared from Halbrand's hands up until he gave it back to Galadriel. Anyway, he still hugged Elendil to distract him from what was happening. There was not a bit of sincerity in that move.

Later, he put his hand on the smith's shoulder in an attempt to convince him to take him at his service. It was meant to be a reassuring gesture : "trust me bro, I'm the best !"

In this case, it was slightly different :

Sauron did that to steal Tamar's guild crest, so the intention was similar to when he hugged Elendil. But this time, he didn't do it discreetly. We know now that even as Halbrand (so not in full possession of the powers he had as Annatar), he was able to make his blood look red; so he could have easily projected the image of the guild's crest on Tamar's tunique, to make him think it was still there.

But see, Tamar offended him. He recalled him that Galadriel would probably never want him (though not because he was a "low man", but because he was the very evil she sought to destroy), and Sauron didn't like that. So what he did was provoking Tamar by stealing his crest in plain sight, so Tamar would follow him and give him the excuse he waited for, to do that :

We can also count that as touching, I guess ? But tell me again that Sauron wasn't interested in Galadriel romantically... It makes total sense for him to lose his shit because some man implied he wasn't good enough for her, right...

(I'll later write another meta about the few times that Sauron loses control. It doesn't happen often, but when it does, it's hot terrifying).

In season 2, I think we saw him touch Mirdania twice, and maybe once for Celebrimbor ? Though I can't find a gif of Sauron touching him except when he grabbed him at the end, so I'm not sure about that.

I've already discussed several times, including today, how Mirdania was a stand-in for Galadriel, so I won't go back to that here. Sauron doesn't feel any affection for Mirdania: wether he touches her hair and hand to manipulate her, or because she reminds him of Galadriel, or most likely, for both, it is, again, not gratuitous and not genuine.

And as for being touched... Oh boy, he doesn't like that at all. His reaction is most of the time him pulling a disgusted "how dare you touching me, you miserable worm ?" face.

This scene in particular was hilarious in this regard. He was very upset by Celebrimbor's refusal to forge rings for men, and Celebrimbor unwillingly added to the offence by giving him a condescending pat on the arm. Sauron probably had a hard time refraining the urge to murder Celebrimbor on the spot, here.

The Galadriel Case

Her case is special, as usual. Until episode 8, Sauron never touches her without her consent : after they arrive in Numenor, he invites it, but doesn't force it on her. it's supposed to be a "friendly" handshake symbolizing peace and a mean to give her Finrod's dagger back, but, well, hmm...

It's just straight out flirting. The way he looks straight into her eyes while pulling her to him, his weird conception of personal space... I can't NOT tag @apoloadonisandnarcissus 's thread about the Freudian symbolism in Haladriel interactions... It's worth reading. There was nothing friendly/platonic in his behavior, but, again... no unnecessary touching here.

Galadriel remains equally guarded towards him, even after she spends time with him and considers him as a "friend". As Sauron in episode 3, she only invites it, on the boat that takes them to the Southlands.

Even when she gives him back his pouch, in the forge, she does it in a way that her fingers barely touch his.

When she finds him wounded, she touches him where he's wounded, to check how serious it is. She could take his hand to comfort him, but.... Nope.

And yet, she's not usually that guarded with her friends, those with whom she shares a (truly) platonic relationship with, as we can see with Elrond and Arondir.

It's definitely not because she doesn't trust Halbrand/Sauron. She does, or she wouldn't be that heartbroken over him in season 2. No, I think she keeps him at arm's length because what she feels for him is not platonic at all, and she wants to keep her feelings in check. Keeping her distance with him (physically) is the way for her to do that, or so she thinks.

Now, back to Sauron. While during all season 1 he was never touchy with Galadriel, in episode 8, he suddenly is.

Not only that but he's also very flirtatious, like... more than usual.

Galadriel seems surprised with this unsolicited touching, and iffy, because she doesn't trust him anymore. She has just asked one of her fellow Elves to look in the catacombs of Eregion for everything they had about the Southlands and their royal lineage; after she heard Celebrimbor talk about "power over flesh" and seen Sauron enthusiastically offer his aid to the smith, she starts suspecting that Halbrand may be not who he claims to be.

Coincidence ? I think not. Even if she remained discreet, Sauron probably felt that something was off. He's very observant, and he knows her mind. If she changed of attitude with him, if she seemed even a little bit wary of him, there's no doubt he noticed it.

He certainly planned to tell her the truth about him very soon, at that point, but he also wants the rings to be forged so he could show her what they'd do with them. So this, imho, is Sauron buying time. He knows she's attracted to him, he may even know she's in love with him... I think he's trying to breach her defenses, here.

Did he succeed, even for the few weeks that separated this scene from the Sauron revelation ? That, we don't know. I'd say probably not, because just before the Elf brought her the records she asked for, she doesn't look like someone who trusts him again.

But then she's still in denial about him even after he admits he isn't the king of the Southlands, going as far as claiming he convinced Miriel to go help the Southlands, while it was her idea entirely... So who knows what happened during these three weeks. It's also possible she didn't suspect him to be Sauron, of all people. And anyways, she loves him. She definitely hoped till he revealed himself that he had a good explanation for everything.

Yesterday I published this post very late, and it's only this morning that I realized I omitted to mention a couple of other very important touches... Stupid me.

How could I forget the chin grab ?

We're in full "unsolicited touching" territory here. Personal boundaries be damned ! The chin grab has several connotations here : it's coded as romantic, but it's also an act of dominance and control, though there's no brutality at all in his gesture. Sauron wants Galadriel to look at him, aka to face the truth : he's still the man she loves, but he's also the monster she hates. They both coexist, in him, hence why the claims that "Halbrand never existed" or "Galadriel loved Halbrand but doesn't love Sauron" are both nonsenses and a complete misunderstanding of the season 1 finals. Galadriel knows who he is in this scene, and yet she's tempted.

The act of grabbing the chin is in itself controlling/dominating, but there's also tenderness : he's gentle, he caresses her cheek almost shyly; he wants her trust for Halbrand back, not her fear of Sauron. He wants to show her that she's loved, but you can feel that if she asked him to take his hand off her, he would back off.

Finally, this post ends with Sauron taking Galadriel's hands into his, with her holding Finrod's dagger.

You know, what he did with Morgoth's crown in season 2, binding her to him through a forced blood oath ? He wanted to do almost exactly that in season 1 already, and that's what this scene implies. Except in this scenario, Galadriel would have been ok with it: it would haven't been a metaphorical rape, but the closest to a consensual sex scene we'd have gotten in this show, if they had followed this route.

I'm not saying I wanted this, just to be clear: Galadriel was tempted to join Sauron in this scene, but it would have been a major breach to the LOTR lore if she had. "Touching the darkness", in Finrod's and Galadriel's minds, was never about embracing it wholeheartedly. It was precisely where Galadriel and Sauron's visions diverge. She knows it will never be the way. She knows she'd end up being a tyrant if she succombed to the temptation, and that's why she rejected it, and Sauron with it.

[idontcaboose]

Haunted car au part 9

Previous Masterpost

“O, please tell me someone is close by?” Red Robin hissed into his comm.

“Batman and Signal are on the way, 6 blocks out.”

“Neat, see if they can use the 109th st entrance, I will try to lead my goons that way.”

“Rerouting their gps, stay safe RR.”

Tim wasn't sure how to stay safe with a bullet wound in his leg, and a few grazes across his body. Part of the job he supposes. He wasn't sure which god or entity was enjoying his struggle, but he would not hesitate to smack them in the face with his bō. Tim took a small breather after losing his followers for a moment. His leg has a hole, his arms couldn't keep a strong grip on his grapple, not that it really mattered. A goon got an extremely lucky shot and destroyed the thing. So, grounded, with a barely functioning leg, and about 15 goons, and if the leaders of the group didn't flee already, then them too, looking for him. Not great odds. Oracle said Batman and Signal were on their way, and hopefully heading to the street closest to him that would work for some form of ambush.

“I'll go out a bit early, they won't be expecting it. Nah, they only set up to catch Signal, you know, the meta. The meta that can all but shadow step like a freaking d&d character. Such a great plan Tim.” Tim had started to mutter to himself as he attempted to tie on a better bandage to his leg than the slap dash one he did while on the move. He was just done securing it when a goon appeared.

“I found some blood over here!”

Tim almost screamed expletives on par with Jason or Duke, but he had some self preservation.

“ETA, hopefully it's NOW?!” Tim growled onto the comms.

“We are set up Red Robin, bring them through.” Tim could have cried in relief at Batman's voice, but he had some goons to lead.

Tim ran, not bothering to hide as he did. Luckily the goons did not think about surrounding the alley he was in, and they followed blindly into the bat's trap. He trusted that Bruce and Duke could handle the group, and limped to the Batmobile. It wasn't until Tim got to the driver's side passenger door did the universe have one last laugh at him.

“Well, well, we'll. Let's make a deal, little red bird.” Out of all the people to corner Tim, it had to have been the wannabe leader of the small time gang.

“Depends, is the deal you turn yourself in?” Tim automatically snarked.

“Nah, open the Batmobile, or I shoot you here.” The man sneered.

“Fine, fine.” Tim opened the driver's door and scooted away, his hands away from his sides.

“Good, keep backing up Red.”

Once Red Robin was far enough for the man, he turned and went to get into the car, only for the door to close on the man repeatedly. Tim could not help but just watch as the car kept smacking the guy until he managed to get into the seat. Unfortunately for the gang leader his hand was not fast enough and got slammed between the door and frame. Based on the crack and responding scream, the hand was very much broken. With a last open and close, the engine started, and the Batmobile drove straight into the group of goons and vigilantes.

Tim watched in morbid curiosity as Batman and Signal heard the car roaring towards them. Watched as they grappled upwards with just a small moment from them getting run over. Watched as 3 goons did not have time to move out of the way and got tossed onto the hood, only to slide off at the jerky stop of the car. It wasn't until Batman barked “Report.” over the comms did Tim snap out of his daze.

“The leader of the gang got into the Batmobile, and proceeded to try to run you guys over.” Tim slowly responded. “He held me at gunpoint and I couldn't move fast enough to do anything but let him. How did the failsafes fail at keeping him from driving?” Tim's voice petered out with the question.

The car door then slammed open and the leader fell out of the seat, and tried to scramble as far from the car as he could. It didn't take long for Batman to grab the man for questioning.

“Hey man, you good to move?” Tim startled when Duke appeared in front of him.

“Ya, ya. I have a GSW to my right calf, got grazed a few times in different places, possibly going into shock.” Tim dutifully reported.

“Got it, up and at ‘em.”

Duke carefully walked Tim to the Batmobile and settled him into the back seats, tightened the bandage on his leg, and put bandages on his other wounds. It wasn't until Duke went to go help Batman clean up and triage the remaining goons did he say something strange.

“Stay put, Red Robin. Keep him safe ok?” With the second request, Duke patted the driver's seat and left him alone in the car.

“What?”

Next

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[cosmerelists]

Should You Invite These Cosmere Characters to Boardgame Night?

As requested by anon. :)

I've done two boardgame-related posts before this (I love boardgames): Favorite Boardgames of Each Knights Radiant Order and Should You Invite the Shards to Boardgame Knight?

In this list, allow me to provide some advice about whether or not you should invite these Cosmere characters to your next boardgame night!

1. Adolin: Yes

Adolin is a delight at every social gathering. He brings wine that somebody at the store told him was good. He has fun with every game whether he wins or loses. By the end of the night, he is somehow the best friend of each individual guest.

2. Shallan: Yes

Is she cheating? Maybe. But she makes a lot of puns and you know that if she tries to cheat TOO much, Radiant will stop her.

3. Kaladin: No

He wins everything. It's annoying. He joined Settlers of Katan twenty minutes late and STILL won. How does he do it???

4. Kelsier: Yes

At first you were admittedly intimidated, as Kelsier kept smiling to himself and saying things like "Just wait until I reveal my Master Plan!" But actually, he kinda loses games...a lot. Keeps smiling, though, so you assume he's having a good time! What a good sport!

5. Vin: Only if you like losing

Like Kaladin, Vin wins all. the. time. But unlike Kaladin, she doesn't come late & then win in a blaze of sudden glory, no. She simply...destroys you. Continuously and brutally for the entire night.

6. Harmony: No

No offense to Harmony, who's a good dude 'n' all, but man, he takes FOREVER to make his next move. It's like--we're playing Sorry. You either move forward 10 or back 1. It's just two choices! How is he thinking for like 10 billion years??

7. Lopen: Maybe

Lopen likes to play around and tease people. He MAY mock you a little too much when your attempt to "Draw 2" him backfires and you find yourself drawing 8 cards in Uno... but other than that, he's a good time.

8. Blushweaver: Maybe

You didn't realize checkers even COULD be played as "Strip Checkers."

9. Tien: Yes

Tien is mostly concerned with making sure that everyone else is having a good time. Even after he gets killed during a round of "Werewolves," he continues to grin and encourage the rest of you to have a good time. W-Wait, why do you suddenly feel like crying?

10. Skar: Yes

Like Tien, Skar also seems chiefly concerned with making sure everyone else has a good time. Bonus: he's GREAT at explaining the rules!

11. Lightsong: Depends on how competitive you are

Ask yourself this: if there's a guy there who wins every game despite clearly and loudly not understanding the rules, would that be fun? If yes, then go for it. If no, then don't invite Lightsong--he doesn't understand how to play Hearts and he doesn't care to, yet he has shot the moon TWICE.

12. Nale: No

No one likes a rules lawyer.

13. Shai: Yes

Shai knows all of these obscure, complicated games that actually turn out to be really fun!

14. Hoid: No

Hoid knows all of these obscure, complicated games and while he does explain the rules, you can't shake the feeling that he's actually playing by an entirely different set of rules that he's not being totally honest about...

15. Elend: Yes

Elend was born to participate in board game nights weekly.

16. Telsin: No

She cheats 100% of the time. You didn't even know it was POSSIBLE to cheat in Connect 4, but she somehow found a way...

17. Raboniel: Well...

Raboniel is ENORMOUSLY competitive and cares very deeply about winning...but she also respects the game. She is surprisingly gracious about losing despite her eyes blazing with the heat of ten million suns as she slapped down that 7-letter word in Scrabble. Yet when you responded with your own, better 7-letter word, clinching the victory, you could tell that she respected you for it.

...But on the other hand, you've been clammy with fear sweats for 45 minutes now.

[mingis-orangejuice]

Love and Deepspace Boys with an MC that's good with children Part.3: Rafayel

Summary: Rafayel desperately calls you to help him take care of his little nephew. Rafayel can't stand him but how difficult can one little kid be?

a/n: this one is my fave out of all the fics I've written so far. I love drama queen Rafayel. I made him as dramatic as possible, he's literally jealous of a 5-year-old kid cuz you're giving him more attention. Yep that's my man and imma stick beside him

Genres/Warnings: just pure teeth rotting fluff

Word count: 1173

Other parts: 1, 2, 4

“So what do you say will you help me pretty please?” Rafayel said from the other side of the call. He had called you to ask if you’d help him with his little nephew. He was stuck taking care of him since his cousin and her husband went off on another spontaneous trip. 

“Fine, as long as you pay double, bodyguards don’t babysit for free.” you joked

“Yeah sure double, I’ll even pay triple if you want just get here quickly!” you heard a crash in the background of the call and Rafayel screaming then he hung up.

You were only joking about wanting payment you didn't really think he would agree to it, but that crash had you concerned. Why was he so desperate for your help? How bad can one little kid be?

At Rafayel’s house, you let yourself in with the spare key. You hear your boyfriend yelling, another small voice laughing and the sound of something breaking. You follow the sound to the living room. The whole room was trashed. Mess everywhere, canvases and brushes on the floor, and paint everywhere even on the ceiling. Did a tornado pass through his living room? You see Rafayel chasing a young boy around the room as he causes more trouble “Rafayel what’s going on?”

“Oh thank goodness you’re here” He stops chasing the boy and runs up to you to greet you with a hug “He’s terrible, he’s destroyed everything in my studio I don't know what to do he just won't stop” Rafayel looked like he was almost about to cry.

“Who are you?” the boy stops in front of you “Are you Uncle Rafi’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah, I am” You bend down and put out your hand to shake his. “It’s nice to meet you, sweetie, what’s your name?” 

The little boy looks up at you with a big smile, completely enamoured by you “I’m Nate. Are you really Uncle Rafi’s girlfriend you’re way too pretty for him” he looks at Rafayel and sticks his tongue out.

“Hey I'll have you know that she is my girlfriend and she loves me, so there!” Rafayel sticks his tongue out at Nate too.

“Stop it you two.” you flick Rafayel’s forehead “You’re the adult in the situation you shouldn’t let him take advantage of you” you scold him as Nate laughs under his breath

“He started it, plus he doesn’t listen, he’s just a bad kid, we should bring him to an orphanage and leave him there,” he says pointing at Nate while hiding behind you.

You sigh and turn to look at Nate. “Nate, sweetie did you mess with your uncle’s art?” he nodded shyly. “That's not very nice now, is it” This time he nodded no. “you know you’re not supposed to do that right?”

“But Uncle Rafi was being so boring, I wanted to play tag but he just wanted to paint. He said he needed silence for his work so he left me in here alone.”

You turn and look at Rafayel. “Is that true?” He also just nods, looking like he was being scolded by his own mother. “Rafayel you can’t just leave him alone with nothing to do, what did you think would happen, he’d just sit there for hours doing nothing? No wonder he did all this, he was bored. You could have at least given him something to do.”

“I don’t know what kids like to do, that's why I called you. You’re so smart and would know exactly what to do to help your boyfriend in need riiight?” he attempted to flatter you so that you’d help him.

You sigh again. “Ok well, first we have to clean up this mess...” 

“I think you should make Nate clean it up himself, to make him learn his lesson” Rafayel glared at Nate.

You gave Rafayel the “mom death stare” and he quickly shut up “We are all going to help clean and then both of you are going to apologize, ok?” 

They both look at each other and then back at you. “Ok,” they both say. reluctantly

Later after the mess had been cleaned, you three sit on the couch exhausted. You hear a little tummy rumble.  You look to Nate “Oh are you hungry, maybe we should make something to eat” You head to the kitchen and Nate follows behind you holding your hand. Rafayel see this and jumps up from the couch trying to get in between you two. You push him away “Raf seriously, you’re jealous of a 5-year-old?” he looks a little embarrassed then quietly takes your other hand on the way to the kitchen. Nate looks over and sticks his tongue out at Rafayel again without you noticing. 

You guys cook up a nice simple meal for you all to enjoy but it wasn’t easy. Throughout the whole thing, they were both fighting for your attention. Rafayel was constantly giving you little kisses while you were trying to cook and Nate would keep pulling you away to get you to lift him up so he could get different ingredients or so he could sit on the counter. You found the little fight amusing so you let it go on since it was harmless.

You’re now sitting at the table to eat and the rivalry is still going on. “Come on just eat the food” it's healthy” Rafayel begs Nate “You need to eat something”

“No! it's yucky. I don’t wanna!” Nate whined and pushed his plate away from him.

“Nate sweetie, can you please eat all your food? If you do then you’ll become strong enough to be a hunter like me” You said with a smile. Nate instantly listens and shoves spoonfuls of food into his mouth. He’s finished in no time.

Rafayel looks at you in disbelief. How did you get this little brat to listen so easily? After Nate finished eating you got him ready for an afternoon nap. He gladly listened to everything you said while constantly glancing over at Rafayel to make sure he knew that he was only going to listen to you and not him. You put Nate in a bed in one of the guest rooms and waited for him to fall asleep. Right before you and Rafayel left the room Nate sleepyily said “ Uncle Rafi You should marry her I want her to be my new auntie.” 

You both look at each other and then back at him. “That’s the plan” Rafayel looks at you and winks. 

“Good,” Nate says right before he drifts off to sleep

You and Rafayel are now back on the couch, he holds your hand and looks into your eyes. “Hey thanks for today, you were a really big help I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you” 

“You don’t have to pay me, at least not with money.” You kiss him and give him a sly grin 

“Careful if you keep that up we’ll end up making another Nate” he laughed and kissed you.

[billyshakesp]

One for his Lyctors

Something that will never cease to amaze me is how well TazMuir writes the Lyctors. So I'm making it your problem ;). CW: Spoilers for Gideon the Ninth and Harrow the Ninth.

Let's start off by stating the obvious: the Lyctors are old. Whenever I mention "the Lyctors" in this post, I'm referring to Jod's original crew of eight Lyctors, and, more specifically, Augustine the First, Mercymorn the First, Gideon the First, and Cytherea the First. Those four are the ones we have met at the time of writing this. And they are old. They are each ten thousand years old. However, ten thousand is a number which may not mean much to you since you (presumably) have not even reached the age of two hundred. To quickly contextualise how colossal a number ten thousand years is, just remember that written history only extends as far back as five thousand years. In not so many words, my bbygirls are not actually very baby, and are, in fact, fucking ancient.

We, as humans, do not have any living reference for a ten-thousand-year-old being, aside from an occasional tree or a sponge, or perhaps a condiment bottle so deep in the back of your fridge that it would warrant a paleontological dig, but I digress. So how does Muir write her Lyctors so effectively?

Vicious dehumanisation

One of the most striking things about the Lyctors is the dehumanisation they have suffered over the past myriad. The first thing I noticed while diving into this subject (and by diving into, I mean I took a long shower one day and pissed off my family) is that the Lyctors do not have last names, and their first names function more as titles. Furthermore, the Lyctors are referred to as the hands, fingers, and gestures of the Emperor. In short, the readers and the characters of the Locked Tomb, including the Lyctors themselves, don't see the Lyctors as individuals anymore. Rather, their sole purpose in life has been reduced to just a soldier of the Emperor. Muir really shows the effects of the Lyctors' age; they are ancient, to the point where they have lost their own humanity and the only reason for their existence that they still hold onto is to serve the Emperor.

2. Their morals

Are extremely fucked up. Like, I cannot emphasise enough how fucked up the Lyctors are as people. Their morals are twisted in a way which can only come about from ten thousand years, rotting in deep space. For example, G1deon probably makes like 56 attempts on Harrow's life, and he doesn't give a second thought about it. When the other Lyctors find him, they don't really condemn his actions the way a human would expect another human to condemn attempted murder. To the Lyctors, life and death are both abstract concepts: life has lost all its meaning to the Lyctors, and thus, they do not see value in others' lives, especially the life of another Lyctor. Especially the life of a "Half-Lyctor." Additionally, Cytherea's plot to destroy the Nine Houses, while technically noble in its intent, is just insanely messed up. Yet, it makes sense in the context of her being a Lyctor, and, furthermore, someone who has suffered abuse for the last ten thousand years. She wants to bring justice to Jod, and for her, a small genocide is completely insubstantial. These people do not value nor understand life the way a human would, because they are unbelievably old.

3. The ways they break

Every one of the original Lyctors we see has a point in which they break, and when they break, we see a glimpse of the humanity peeking through. I could do character analysis on all of the Lyctors, but that would take a really long time. In short, we, the reader, get to see shreds of the people the Lyctors once were, and yet this only demonstrates just how shattered they are under the inexorable weight of time (yes, I use inexorable excessively now that I've read these books). Muir feeds us these pieces of the Lyctors' former selves to show just how buried that former self is.

In short, Muir does such a good job writing her Lyctors. They really are some of the most beautifully tragic characters I've ever read. I'm really just compiling some of the elements which I think Muir used to achieve the effect of "this character is bloody ancient." Feel free to add anything you feel that I missed (and I'm sure I missed a lot of stuff), and thanks for reading!

[needle-thread-thimble-spear]

RGU and the Transfeminine, Part 1

OR

Why Miki Kaoru is an Egg

Fig. 1: The Sunlit Garden

When I’d first watched through Revolutionary Girl Utena, Miki Kaoru was initially one of the characters I had the hardest time figuring out. Unlike the other poisoned sibling relationships in the show, Miki and Kozue’s didn’t really make much sense to me. I couldn’t decide how I felt about the character, whether he was “better” somehow than Touga, Saionji, or Akio, or if he was “just as bad”. And of course. What the hell is with that damn stopwatch dude??* Looking at fan writings afterward just deepened the confusion. Everyone seems to have a different opinion on what’s going on with Miki. It’s only after much re-watching, and introspection, that I think I’ve figured out why I’m so conflicted about the character. I’d like to share why- and hopefully along the way I can at least show that Miki is more interesting than many give him credit for. Click the readmore if you please!

(And, to be clear, what is written below is a reading, a blend of evidence from the text, from the subtext, and my own personal experience. I do not claim to be the first to interpret the character this way nor do I claim that this is the definitive read of the character. Nonetheless, I hope I can make my case to you!)

and, a big thank you to @empty-movement for collating all the high quality screengrabs and scans in this post!

Fig 2: Rookie Princes

While I’m not the first to notice, I think it’s frequently overlooked just how similar Utena and Miki are in the first arc. It’s definitely something that flies over the heads of many first-time viewers. But Miki and Utena, are extremely alike! Of course, they are both motivated by an unattainable image of the past, and Miki’s early episodes codify the “sunlit garden” into the RGU symbolic environment. But it’s more than just this. Utena and Miki both treat Anthy in basically the same way. Utena has an easy time convincing Miki that the dueling game is objectifying nonsense. That the principled thing is to leave the whole exercise behind and treat Anthy like a person. It isn’t very hard for Miki to convince Utena to duel him for her hand either. They both view themselves as her personal protector, and (while maybe at different times), both project their imagination of what she must be thinking onto her. Utena does a bit more than Miki to try and figure Anthy out, but it doesn’t take much for her to get swept up in her own image of prince. In both their minds, Anthy needs them to save her. And, when Anthy looks them in the eyes, and tells them. I’m not yours. It destroys them. Freezes them in their tracks, breaks their hearts. Screaming, its a lie, you can’t mean that! Of course they get along so well! They see themselves in one another, plain as day. Little rival princelings, seeking the affections of the same princess, but always with chivalry and good intention.

Fig 3: Heartbreak

But I think there is more to it than that! Miki and Utena (and later Nanami) are some of the youngest duelists (at least, without a black rose anyway). And, they have fairly similar relationships to the other members of the student council. Juri acts as an older friend, mentor, and source of advice for both of them. Its not unlikely that she sees her younger self in the two of them, and while she does very directly take this out on Utena, its her sword that Utena takes to her second duel with Touga. Indeed, Touga manipulates Miki and Utena in unsubtle and sexually aggressive ways, as compared to how he might treat Saionji or Juri. And for both, its their relationship to gender that he directly attacks. He attempts to break Utena’s spirit by turning her “back into a normal girl”, and for Miki he seems to challenge his masculinity. And while this may seem as though the two of them are being shoved in opposite directions, in both cases, Touga hits them in the same place. “You’re a prince then? I don’t think so. Unless you prove it”. Touga isn’t the only one to question Miki’s ability or status. Utena and Juri both tell Miki. You are much more suited to playing piano than dueling. The main difference here is that they tell him this with genuine compassion, but the implication is the same. You aren’t suited to this prince thing. Give it up.

I don’t think it’s just the audience who is conflicted slotting in Miki with the other “men”.

Fig 4: Strange Friends

Much ink has been spilled on Miki and Kozue’s relationship, but I do think there is one thing consistent across readings. There is a power struggle going on between them, and they’ve both got something to hold over the others head. Personally, I don’t believe there is any attraction between them. Rather, What’s Going On With Those Two is their mismatch in understanding their sexuality and the RGU concept of “Reality”, and the friction that creates in their image of themselves and one another. That reading may go as follows. Miki sees Kozue as acting dangerously and immorally. In his mind, she is his responsibility, to keep out of trouble at the very least. Perhaps he sees himself as needing to step in for their absent parents. So he sees himself as the mature and grounded one, a father figure needing to keep the both of them on the straight and narrow. Kozue on the other hand, sees Miki as being essentially blind to Reality (with a capital R). She believes he doesn’t have a good grasp of what sex is, or what adult relationships look like. She may believe that she understands what happened with their parents much better than Miki, and clearly sees that her brother is in danger with his creepy music teacher. So she sees herself as the mature and grounded one, needing to protect her brother both by warding off people who would take advantage of him and by getting him to grow up and see things as they Really are. Without their parents, they feel the need to take care of one another and control how the other approaches their sexuality. But in the end, it does seem that Kozue is the one who is better able to manipulate Miki’s behavior, helping Akio convince him to duel a second time. That Miki needs to grow up and accept what he wants. He sees a vision of Anthy, and he’s driving the akiomobile. And, with fearful realization, he discovers the identity of End of the World.

Fig 5: Fear

So then. Why should Miki be so hung up about his sexuality? It clearly makes him very uncomfortable. And why does he compare the sister he had in the past onto the one he has in the present? What’s so special about that sunlit garden, anyway? What is Miki Kaoru’s shining thing?

Let me spin a yarn, if you'll indulge me-

As far as Miki remembers it, when he was little things were perfect. His parents were still there, and he and his twin sister were thick as thieves. They would play piano together, and drink milkshakes. Things were simple and happy as far as he’s concerned, and while his childhood was not nearly as rosy as he remembers, it was certainly better than whatever he has to deal with now. Now his parents are gone for reasons he doesn’t quite understand, and his sister has drifted away from him and acts promiscuously. His body is starting to change, and it fills him with disgust. Worse still, he finds himself envying his sister for some reason. It all floods him with shame. He needs to fight those feeling with everything he has. Being very clever for his age, he finds himself the youngest member of the student council. He becomes involved with the dueling game as it is revealed to him, and goes along with it, not wanting to act out of place. He gets a crush on Anthy, and is unable to figure out what the hell he should do about it. Later, he meets Utena, and the two become fast friends. And how lucky, his new friend is roommates with his crush! She’s just so perfect. She’s kind, and quiet, and chaste, not at all like his sister. He feels a kinship with her. And in an act of cosmic fate- she plays for him his favorite childhood arrangement. It’s just as Touga says. He can’t let the world get to her, the way its getting to his sister. The way its getting to him. He needs to make sure that Anthy, and his memories, are safe. But alas- it seems she doesn’t feel the same way. She’d rather be with Utena. Hopefully, Utena can protect her where he cannot. Miki and Utena go back to being friends, and he nurses his hurt feelings privately. It wouldn't do to make a scene about it, and besides, it wasn’t appropriate for him to think of her like that anyway. Thinking about anyone like that. He can’t help but feel disgusted with himself for allowing it. Later, his relationship with his sister continues to deteriorate, and his father is remarrying. But he can stick by his principles, and stay out of it all, the dueling especially. Kozue, Touga, and Akio have other plans. He is confronted with Reality, and it terrifies him. He sees himself in the drivers seat, Anthy his. This is what he is now, no point in trying to hide from it. He challenges Utena again, taking an early advantage utilizing his new resolve and Utena’s confusion. But that resolves breaks quickly. What is Kozue doing with Anthy?

Pay attention, or you’ll lose.

Fig 6: Crash!!

Miki is disgusted with himself, his role, because he does not want it. He hates what’s happening to himself and his family. He admires Utena and Juri, for embodying his ideal self. He listens to Touga, puts up with his music teacher, even if they make him feel gross and uncomfortable, because he feels he has to and that he doesn’t have a choice. He idolizes Anthy, so much. He is attracted to her, but maybe there is something more. Maybe, Miki wishes he could be her. Miki, in my mind, is a closeted trans lesbian going through puberty as a boy. I think that part of this might be projection, perhaps. But I hope that I might have made my case using the text of the show. But even if you disagree, I hope that you might have a better appreciation for his character. I think he’s fairly consistently people’s least favorite council member as a character, but honestly he’s my favorite and I think there’s a lot more too him than a lot of people give him credit for.

Fig 7: Three Lesbians Hanging Out

… this all being said. I think it’s interesting that Miki thinks Anthy is the picture of femininity right? That this is what he wants.

In the end, all girls are like the rose bride.

Please wait patiently while I make the case, that while Miki is an egg. Anthy has long since hatched...

(And I do mean be patient! This subject, and the concept that Ohtori represents a transmisogynystic institution at its very core, is WAY more personal than this headcanon, and also is much more of a difficult thing to write for dozens of reasons. I'm still not 100% sure it would even be right of me to post my thoughts on that publicly. But if enough people are interested, maybe that would motivate me to write it!)

*What’s a good Miki essay without some sort of Stopwatch Theory tm? Well (and I freely admit much of this is probably projection, but it’s not just me projecting! It’s also my girlfriend!!), Miki seems to get very wrapped up in his own thoughts. He is very self conscious, takes the criticisms of others very seriously, and also seems to get ideas about How Things Are Going To Happen in his head. He desperately tries to make sense of his surroundings, and finds himself consistently failing to do that. So my guess is the stopwatch is a way for him to regulate and calibrate his thoughts and hypotheses and self image. He picked it up in his duty as council secretary, but its something he feels is significant outside of that. Aha moment? Click. Unexpected end to a council meeting? Click. Something go completely as expected? Click. It helps him process I think. That is my formal Stopwatch Hypothesis tm.

Supplement Fig 1: Stopwatch

[pit-and-the-pen]

I'll Crawl Home to Her- Chapter 4

A/n: So I’m pivoting a little bit with this series. In the last chapter, I had reader with Rhys a lot and I’m fighting the urge to rewrite it, but from here on out it’s going to be a lot more of the inner circle stuff while Rhys and Feyre are doing their own thing. I didn’t like how much  I relied on the dialogue straight from the book for chapter 3 so hopefully this makes it a little better to write and more interesting to read! 

Strap in because a lot happens in this chapter. Also this is mostly unedited because my brain in soup at this point.

Warnings: Cannon level description of violence, blood, brief mention of trauma (Rhys and Readers history with Tamlin), suggestive thoughts/language (as always let me know if I missed anything)

WC:19k

Previous chapters: [prologue] [chapter 1][chapter 2][chapter 3]

NExt chapter [Here]

“I don’t get why I wasn’t invited.” Cassian whined, leaning back in the wide backed chair. I knocked his feet from their place on the coffee table and he stumbled as the legs of the chair touched the ground.

“Because last time you were there you fucked someone’s wife and destroyed their house in your attempt to get away.” 

“In my defense, she didn’t tell me she was married.” He grumbled out, crossing his arms like the petulant child he was. 

“Try telling that to her husband.” I continued to tease him. 

“I did.” 

“Children, children.” Mor chided Cassian and I. A bored wave of her hand causing Cassian to turn his attention to her instead. I smiled widely as the two of them started going back and forth. 

Eventually Rhys and Azriel came to collect Cassian. 

“Sorry, boys night.” My brother said, shooting me a wink when I tried to argue. “Don’t pout at me.”

“They’re just afraid they’d lose their ass if they let us play.” Mor returned, all of the males sputtering out a chorus of protests. 

True to their word, they didn’t let Mor or myself join them. Going as far as to lock the door to Rhys’ study. Their loud shouts could be heard from where Mor and I sat together down the hall. 

Mor was swiping the second layer of a silver and black sparkle nail polish on my hand. 

“Are you nervous about going to summer?” She asked casually. 

“Hardly.” Even I wasn’t convinced by my words. Mor raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me. “Fine. I’m just worried we won’t get the book. We’ve only tested this theory of Feyre’s powers once and that was Rhys’ magic.”

“You think the bond could let her sense it.” I nodded.

“It’s not impossible. Even if she hasn’t accepted it. She could be inherently drawn to things that have ties to him. I just have to hope my brother is right.” I stopped talking to start blowing my nails dry. Shaking them slightly while I did so. Mor turned to her own nails, brushing a blood red polish over them. 

The summer court was just as beautiful as I remember it. I was immediately greeted by the smell of sea salt, even the sunshine smelt different. The humidity in the air laced it with something I could not put my finger on but warmed every part of my body. My skin felt instantly sticky, suddenly very grateful for the flowing white halter dress I had picked for myself that morning. 

Even though it was early in the morning, the city below the palace was already teeming with life. Merchant carrying various baskets full of goods, ships sailing in and out of the docks. The rope bridges swayed slightly in the breeze as people flurried about. 

We had winnowed right in front of the palace. The purple and green sea glass doors opened at our arrival. It had been at least a century since the last time I visited this place, enough time that I was in awe of the scene in front of me. As much as I loved my home Velaris, there was something about the lightness of this palace that called to me. The full walls of sea glass and shells embedded into the floor, covered with some shiny surface that didn’t make it painful to walk on.Light chiffon fabric  in pastel purples, seafoam green, baby pinks, and, buttery yellows adorned the chairs and curtains. The sun that shone through the glass walls tinted with all the colors around us. I was still gawking when Tarquin approached us. The time since he came back had been kind to him. His dark skin more bronzed and his long white hair was  braided and adorned with various shells, he was heart stoppingly handsome.The power of a high lord circled him, but unlike Rhys, it carried a certain warmth to it. An aura of safety and security. I swore the water flowing from the fountains around us bubbled harder at his arrival. 

“Welcome. I see you like the changes I’ve made” He winked at me, eyes still flickering about. 

“I believe you’ve met before, although not since your…promotion.” Tarquin eyed Amren before he gave her a polite bow. Amren bit back a greeting that reminded me of what others saw us as. Cold and calculating. 

“And you two were never formally introduced under the mountain. Feyre, Tarquin.” Tarquin’s face set into a tight line as his eyes swept over the revealing dress Feyre was wearing. Even more see-through with the sunlight in the room. Rhys let out a lewd comment and Feyre returned her own before I  could even think to grimace. 

Another's presence in the room had me looking over Tarquins shoulder. I tried to keep my face even as I spotted Cresseida. The female and I had grown closer than anyone else in the court during my last visit. She shot me a wicked smile before Tarquin introduced her, a claiming hand resting on her shoulder. My eyebrow raised to her and she shrugged her shoulders. A promise of explaining later in her dark brown eyes. Varian was next to be introduced. As captain of Tarquins guard, I did not fault him for the way he sized all of us up, especially Amren. 

Our group followed Tarquin through the hallways of the palace. Rhys and the High Lord making polite small talk. Cressida and I walked in step together. 

The room Tarquin led us to was just as beautiful as the rest of the palace. High ceilings speckled with those same pastel colors, a wide open window showcasing the vibrant water of the sea, so rich in color it appeared almost teal. Feyre gravitated towards the window, like her feet were working on their own. The Summer High Lord approached her side and I tried to keep up with their hushed conversation. Rhys took a seat at the table in the middle of the room and motioned for me to do the same. Rolling my eyes as the others approached, I grabbed Cressida’s arm and led her to a set of couches a bit away from the others. “We’ll leave all the important talk to the high lords and generals.” I said, sinking into that vapid facade I carried when I wasn’t expected to be Rhys’ terrifying counterpart. He gave me a bored look of dismissal. 

“You must tell me everything.” I nearly squealed at Cressida, loud enough for the others to hear. 

“There isn’t much to tell, Tarquin is adjusting to being High Lord quite well. However, suddenly it was…He’s a good change from before.” So not interested in her advances then. Her eyes flickered over to the table where the rest sat. 

“Are you not in contact with Tamlin then, Feyre?” The question was laced with challenge and accusations. The idea that she was in not one but two high lords beds a grave insult. 

“My relationship with the High Lord of spring is none of your concern.” She bit back, the perfect edge of regal and warning in her voice. 

“Good, I’d hate to have to return you to your master.” Even from across the room I saw Amren go deathly still. I gave Cressida a small tap on her shoulder, a playful move that warned her to hold her tongue. She gave me a withering glare as Tarquin reprimanded her for her words. 

She turned back to me, mouth opening to continue our conversation as Rhys spoke. If I hear word that she or anyone else sends news of our being here to Tamlin, your lives will be forfeit. I heard the tone of promise. The air growing deathly still as his words registered to the High Lord.I took a deep sip of my wine as feyre whispered out something that had Tarquin laughing. The room seemed to take a collective sigh at the sound. Tarquin was a good change indeed. Cressida sank back into her chair as she looked me over. 

“You look well.” She said once the conversation in the room resumed. I nodded, setting down my glass on the table beside me.

“Fresh air will do that to a person.” My not so subtle reminder to her that she had not been under the mountain. She gave a small hum. “It seems the court has recovered nicely.”  

It was her turn to grow tense. “It was not without hard work, as I’m sure you can relate to. Having a sudden change in high lord and losing half our population has not made it easy to rebuild, but we’ve managed this far.” She sighed, looking at Tarquin who was now laughing with Rhys. “He has made things easier. Gave my brother and I much more control over the efforts than the previous High lord would have.” I took in her words, the tension in her shoulders and heard the tone of someone who had sacrificed a great deal for her court. Something I very much understood. I felt shame rise in my throat at my earlier comments. She might not have been under the mountain but she, and many others in Prythian, had suffered just as much because of it. I’d imagine it would be impossible to find someone who was not affected. 

“Enough about me though, tell me how’ve you been?” Her tone switched back to one of light gossip. I took a deep sip of my wine as I gave her a half-true recounting of the last few months. 

Cressida walked me back to my room, pointing out things around the palace while doing so. Explaining the bits of work that were still in planning. She gestured to my room and said her goodbyes, promising to find me at the party tonight. 

I let out a heavy sigh as the door closed behind me. I had forgotten how exhausting court politics was. How heavy the role Rhys and I played was. Instead of lingering on that, I quickly changed into my clothes for tonight. A flowy dress that mimicked the fashion of the court but with Night Court colors. Silvers and midnight blues, silver chains fastening the dress around my neck. I left the tiara I would pin in my hair on the edge of my bed as I walked out onto the balcony attached to my room. I stared out at the crashing waves, sitting in the sound that they brought with them. The tide was coming in stronger now that it was mid-afternoon. On the horizon I saw the colorful sails of merchant and travel ships bobbing on the water. I leaned against the railing, letting myself become almost hypnotized by the motion of the water around me. I don’t know how long I stayed staring out at the water but Rhys knocking at my door told me it had been at least a few hours. Rhys walked up to my side, leaning against the railing. 

“It's definitely a nice view.” He says, snapping me out of my trance. I only nod. 

“I wish we didn't have to do this.” 

“Which part?”

“I don’t know all of it. The sneaking and the games. I just wish it could change.” I said, voice barely above a whisper. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders. 

“It will be. Once this war is over. That’s what we're fighting for.” He gave a little squeeze before I sighed heavily. 

“I hope that’s how the others see it.” He nodded and I pulled away from his side. Walking back into the room. I picked up my tiara and slid it into my hair. I adjusted my makeup in the mirror on the vanity.  Looking at Rhys I gave a dramatic twirl. 

“How do I look?” He rolled his eyes at the question.

“Every bit the Night Court princess. Now will you please hurry up, we’re already late enough.” I stuck my tongue out at him as we walked out of the room. 

The ship was beautiful. It could fit double the amount of Fae than it was currently holding. Feyre, Rhys and Amren stayed close together while I mingled amongst those who would actually talk to me. Cressida found me at some point in the night, pushing a glass of wine into my hand. I couldn’t help but notice the similarities between her and Mor. Making me wonder just what sat behind her own mask. We got along fine but years of not speaking had made our friendship dissolve. Rhys made his way over to Cressida and I, giving Feyre space to talk to Tarquin. He tried to play the aloof High Lord but I saw the way his eyes kept floating over to Feyre, the way his shoulders stiffened at every smile Tarquin gave her. Cressida must have sensed the tension too because she leaned across the table to reach for my brother's hand, purposefully leaning over to expose her cleavage to him. I tried not to roll my eyes at her attempt to get his attention. 

He gave her a sleepy smile and pointed to the seat next to him. She gave Feyre a lingering glance before she stood up and all but climbed into his lap. I didn’t hold back my eyeroll this time. She shot me a wide grin. “You don’t mind do you?” She asked in a coy voice. 

“By all means, don’t let me stop you. But you should be asking him.” She pouted at my brother who nodded his head, his hand drifting to the small of her back. I downed the rest of my wine before standing up to get more. I had no interest in seeing him lean down to whisper in his ear. I noticed Feyre spared a glance our way, quickly looking back to Tarquin when she spotted Cressida’s new seat. Before I knew it, Feyre was on her feet. Walking away to a less crowded spot on the ship, leaving a very confused looking Tarquin behind her. Taking the opportunity, I joined him at the table. 

“I hope I didn’t upset her.” He joked when I sat down beside him.

“She can be a little…touchy where my brother is concerned. Pay no mind.” I waved my hand to punctuate my words. Tarquin just took a deep sip of his wine. 

We made light conversation, asking each other about our courts and each only giving as much information as was polite. My eyes tracked Rhys movements as Cressida pulled him from his seat and across the deck of the ship. A deep laugh came from the High Lord’s chest. 

“You’re not interested then?” I pointed my hand at the retreating couple, still holding my wine glass,  Another laugh from Tarquin.

“Mother no, did no one tell you she’s my cousin.” 

“Oh…” He gave me a smirk. 

“And besides,  princess. I am still young and rebuilding my court. All of that,” he waved towards the direction Cressida had pulled my brother, “can wait until after. That doesn’t mean that anyone in my court isn’t free fuck whoever they decide.” I almost shot wine from my nose at how hard I laughed, choosing an inopportune time to take a deep sip from my cup. I sputtered out an  “I’m sorry.” between coughs. He handed me a handkerchief to wipe my mouth. “I truly wasn’t not expecting you to say that. Please don’t think I was laughing at you.” 

“Never.” His voice suddenly became more serious than before. 

“Now what about you? No one has caught your eye?”

“I dare you to try with a brother like mine.” It felt wrong to so crassly talk about Rhys. LIke he was the one stopping me from what I wanted. 

“But there’s someone?” He pried. I shook my head. 

“No one that would see me that way.” It wasn’t a lie by any means. He didn’t have to know exactly why. 

“Do they happen to be blind?” I raised an eyebrow in question. “That would be the only reason I think of for someone not seeing you that way.” I didn’t fake the blush that rose on my cheeks. 

“You flatter me. But no, just… I don’t know.” I said in a tone almost boarding on a whine. He laughed again, a sound I realized I liked. We sat and talked until the sun colored the water a deep purple. I looked out at the view, once again falling into a trance as I stared out at the waves. 

“Shall I walk you back to your room?” Tarquin asked, pulling my eyes back to him. I wanted to say no. But the role I played required I saw yes. So I nodded, letting him guide me by my hand back around the palace. I was nervous as we approached my door, not knowing fully what he expected out of me. Especially not knowing exactly where Cressida had pulled Rhys to. I felt panic starting to rise in my throat until he cleared his throat. 

We were outside my door and the panic I felt must have been written across my face. 

“Don’t look so disappointed. But I was not walking you back for that.” I felt my shoulders relax and a blush settle on the tips of my ears. 

“I’m sor-”

“Don’t be. I like my partners more than willing.Enthusiastic if you will.” I laughed, which made him laugh in return.

“Good night.” I whispered to him

“Good night.” He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek before he turned and walked off down the hallway. 

I had nothing to do until Feyre went to look for the book. And I truly had no desire to sit and gossip with Cressida after the heated looks she had been giving my brother. So I simply stayed in my room, listening to the sounds of the ocean. I tried to think of how much the rest of my family would love it here. How much they had loved it here. I lightly chuckled to myself as I remember Cassian's face as Mor winnowed him out of the court last time we had visited. It took days of debate and many apologies before the previous High Lord rescinded the blood ruby he threatened to send after Cassian.  Mor looked absolutely gorgeous with some sun on her skin, although Azriel held onto it longer much to her chagrin. I curled my knees up to my chest at the thought of Azriel. It felt almost selfish for how little I had thought about him since I’d been here. Regardless of the fact that I had no reason to feel bad, a small twinge of shame pushed its way through me. A hand rising to the center of my chest to massage the discomfort away. 

Rhys didn't come to collect me until dinner. He was curt as he announced that the rest were waiting for me, not waiting for my reply before he was leaving the room again. I rushed after to catch up with him. Feyre must have done her job well if my brother was wound this tight. 

“Anything on your mind, brother?” I asked in a sweet voice, purposefully teasing him.

“Don’t you start with me too.” So Feyre must have already talked to him. Good. Maybe he’ll finally use this to tell the poor girl. “Stop trying to meddle.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I just want to get this damned book and go back home.”

“I’m sure that’s all there is to it, Rhys.” I patted him on the back and nearly started running down the hall, suddenly very hungry. 

The days passed by slowly. As Rhys’ advisor, I was now expected to attend the various meetings Rhys had with the summer courts own advisors. I wished we could have left Amren out of these meetings, but as his second, she attended every one of them. Her presence set the others on edge, making any and all discussions freeze at random moments because she so much as shifted her body weight. 

It wasn’t until dinner the night after that Feyre almost gave herself away. One too many questions asked about the little temple in the middle of the tide. Tarquin brushed off her questions with ease but I saw the way his eyes lingered on her longer than normal, like he was sizing her up for the first time. If I blinked I would have missed it, that slight fog in his eyes. A fog that only appeared for a moment before sea green eyes were revealed once again. I shot my eyes to Rhys who shook his head. Not him then. Meaning Feyre must have been able to do that. I was both very impressed and oh so horrified. 

“I can carry you both and then keep watch” Rhys layed out the plan. Amren looked over to me. 

“And her?”

“Someone has to keep the High Lord distracted.” I grinned at her

“What a hard job to do.” She bit back at me, baring her teeth at me. I fought back the urge to do the same. 

“It’s a necessary job. Unless you want to risk Tarquin sniffing us out.” She didn’t have a response for him. “Good. Do you think you can do it?” He turned to face me and I nodded. From there we planned the rest of the details. 

The day dragged by. Tarquin, by Feyre’s suggestion, had taken her to the mainland to show her the rest of the court. That left Amren, Rhys and myself free to make some final conversation with the court advisors. Simple things like trade and training of soldiers felt wrong to discuss with a greater war on the horizon, felt too mundane. 

Evening came around eventually. Tarquin all but deposited Feyre into Rhys’ outstretched arms. He gave her a salacious smile that I wasn’t sure was entirely fake. But gave the right impression of just exactly why I was so eager to leave the palace. 

Tarquin and I walked through the city where he took me to a small bistro. The staff all smiled at him as we approached the open air restaurant. It was quaint, reminding me of something you would find in Velaris. The casual exchange between the owner and Tarquin felt very familiar. I smiled at the couple as they personally sat Tarquin and I. The restaurant had no menu, instead the meal was based on whatever the ships brought in that day and the catch of the day seemed to be crab. They brought out steaming plates and I could only stare at it. 

“I must admit, I’ve never tried crab before.” I picked up one of the legs in front of me, taking note of the hard shell. Tarquin smiled at me. 

“Apologies, I didn’t consider that.” He gestured for the piece I was holding and I handed it over to him. “You have to crack this open” A simple twist of his hands and the shell popped loudly. “And then you can pull out the meat.” Picking up a tiny fork, he pulled the entirety of the meat out in a clean piece. I gave him a small clap. He laughed and handed me another piece. 

“You try.” I earned my own clap from him as I copied his motions. It took me a few tries to scoop everything out but I got there in the end. 

“I’lll just have to practice more.” I winked at him and he gave me a soft smile. 

“If it gives you an excuse to come back here, be my guest.” I let the comment float between us. We ate until he had to wave off the shop owners. A small argument between the three of them as they tried to insist he didn’t need to pay. Tarquin dropped a bag of gold on the table when their backs were turned and all but pushed me out of the restaurant before they could notice. The action was so unlike any other high lord I had seen that I couldn’t help the giggle that left me. 

He had grabbed my hand in his sometime during our walk back through the city. Not paying attention to the way I led him to the stretch of beach on the other side of the palace, on the opposite side of where Feyre and Amren were currently trying to grab the book from. The only sound between us was the crashing waves. 

“Sunlight looks good on you.” Tarquin winked at me as we walked down the beach. Breaking the comfortable silence.  The red that tinted my cheeks had nothing to do with the fleeting sunlight. 

“I’m afraid I might become the same color of that crab if I stayed too long,” I joked back.

“You’d adjust… If you ever wanted to, that is.” His tone was light but I could sense the truth behind those words. 

“You’d do well to remember not to be fooled by a pretty face.” I returned with that same tone. He shook his head. 

“I was under the mountain too. Everyone heard the way you would stand up to her. The way you suffered so others wouldn’t.” His words startled me. I never acted that way to get attention. I told him as much. “And that’s why I know you’re more than a pretty face. You did all of it without thinking. Regardless of what you might show others, I know you and your brother are good people. The people that refuse to see that are fools” 

I didn’t respond. Unable to find the right words. I kept walking, slower than before. The sound of waves crashed over my ears. The white noise comforting. Tarquin was not a bad looking male by a long shot. Even under the mountain he was gorgeous. But even thinking of it, however fleetingly, felt wrong. Some deep part in my chest hurt as I thought of how easy it would be to fall in love with him. My hand drifted subconsciously to rub that sharp sting away. 

“You’re kind too. I see it in the way you interact with your people. Very few high lords care about lesser fae, let alone enough to remember their names.” It was his turn to blush, the skin on his cheeks darkening ever so slightly. 

“I want to be better than those before me. I see no reason to make my people suffer because they weren't lucky enough to be high born.”

“I wouldn’t call it lucky.” I muttered mostly to myself. 

“Neither would I. But to them, to the people that only get to watch…”

“It all does seem rather glamorous. Just another mask to put on.” I bit my tongue, cursing myself for saying too much. To my surprise, Tarquin only nodded along. 

“Better to let them think it’s all parties and banquets. It means we’re doing our jobs well enough.” Once again, silence blanketed itself over us. Both of us were aware that our conversation had drifted to something too real. As I looked out at the ocean and saw the tide starting to swell again, I felt disgust ebb through me. I hoped Feyre had made it out by now. That she had gotten the book. We would be leaving tomorrow regardless. Tarquin must have noticed the look on my face, the pensive far-off look. 

“Are you sad to be leaving?” Luckily he had misread my emotions. I nodded, not entirely lying to him.

“Your home is beautiful and it’s nice to be given a break from Hewn city. Sometimes when I wake it, it’s hard not to think I’m still…with her.” He grabbed my hand in his as I spoke. As I looked into his sea green eyes, I had never felt more disgusted with myself. He was kind and trusting and so naive. It felt too easy. Any other high lord, one that had been around longer, would have never let my brother or Feyre out of their sight. Pretty face or not. But the High Lord in front of me didn’t hold an ounce of suspicion for my court. Had told Feyre that much during their trip earlier in the week. It made my stomach twist. 

“She left our mark on all of us, it’s our job to make sure someone like her can never have that chance again.” My throat felt tight and I couldn't speak. He was a good male without a doubt. I only hoped he would forgive us for what we had to do, and would be willing to hear us out after all is said and done.  

AS if the mother herself sensed my words, an alarm rang from within the castle. Tarquin jumped, pulling his hand from mine as a  figure appeared next to us. I hoped the sigh of relief wasn’t too loud as I saw Rhys. It’s done. We need to go now. Tarquin’s head was whipping back and forth between his palace and my brother. I knew I would never be able to forget the look of pure disbelief in his eyes as the pieces clicked into place. 

“I’m so sorry.” I took a step towards him as Rhys wrapped an arm around my waist and the moonlit water of the summer court disappeared around me. 

My knees gave out as soon as I felt the ground return underneath me. Azriel was at my side instantly, hands quick to wipe the silent tears off of my face. I pushed myself away from him. So disgusted with myself I could hardly breathe. My brother paid no attention to me, instead turning his focus to Feyre. I let out a mix between a sob and a laugh as I saw her pull out the book. Azriel just pulled me back against his chest. And my treacherous body relaxed in his hold. That familiar smell of nighttime and pine and something so Azriel that I couldn’t help but calm down. I clung to him tighter as Feyre struggled to open the book. Scared that this had all been for nothing. Then the sick voice echoed through the room. A language I couldn’t quite make out but chilled me to my very core. Like the book had been made of nightmares themselves. Even Azriel tensed beside me, wings flaring before I felt them wrap around me. The voice burrowed into my brain sending a fresh wave of tears down my face. Then, just as sudden as it had started it stopped. Feyre held the now opened box in her lap, refusing to look into it. 

Amren finally looked and pulled away, swearing. She looked…scared. It was a look so out of place on her face that I almost couldn’t clock it. But as she looked back at the book I recognized the pure terror flickering behind those quick silver eyes and I wondered out loud what exactly we had gotten ourselves into. 

I didn’t stay to discuss the events at the summer court with the rest of my family. As it was, Azriel had to all but carry me to my room. Maybe I was being dramatic but the last few days mixed with that look from Tarquin had worn heavily on me. Waves of guilt kept roaring through me. Enough so that I simply let Azriel place me onto my bed, feeling too disgusted with myself to be in his presence any longer. He only pressed a light kiss to my forehead before he pulled the curtains shut and left my room. 

Azriel didn’t return until later the next day. When I finally was able to look him in the eyes I saw nothing but concern in those hazel eyes. Concern I didn’t deserve or want. 

“Talk to me.” He pleaded. I shook my head, a small sniffle the only sound I made. Willing the tears away. I didn’t even deserve to be crying for myself. He sighed heavily and pulled me into his lap. I was so upset that I didn’t even consider the intimate hold. I just curled up tighter into myself and let him rock me back and forth. 

“I’m a horrible person.” I sobbed into his chest, unable to hold back the tears. 

“Rhys told me everything. You’re not. They don’t know it yet but this could save us all.” I didn’t let his words comfort me. 

“He’s so kind. It sickens me to think that I might be the reason he stops being kind.” My voice broke. The admission was unbearable. 

“He’ll deal with it.” I sniffled one more time before I started to calm down. 

Tarquin did in fact deal with it. In the form of four blood red rubies delivered to Hewn City that morning. I swore when Rhys placed it on my bed. “Azriel’s already sweeping the border, so if you decided to have a melt down on me again, you’ll be waiting for a while for someone to comfort you.” Half a tease and half a plea for me to keep it together. I tossed the ruby to the floor, letting it roll under my bed. 

“You really know how to comfort a female, Rhys. It’s a miracle we aren’t having to peel Feyre off of you, truly.” I spit at him. 

“Be angry at me all you want, but get your shit together. You’ve, we’ve, done far worse things.”

“To people that deserved it.” I whispered back. And that was the root of it all. The way we had done unspeakable things to people in the past had never bothered me, because they would have done the same if they got the chance. But sweet, naive Tarquin…

“He’ll understand in time.” Was all he offered, and I saw red tinge the edge of my vision. 

“But at what cost? He’s a good ally to have if we come down to war and we very well might have pushed him into Hyberns hands.”

“If it takes a simple theft for him to go to Hybern then he was never truly an ally.” I wanted to slap the cock-sure look off of my brother's face. 

“Send in Azriel when he gets back.” Dismissal clear in my tone. Rhys looked at me, but I turned away from him. He said my name softly. 

“Get.Out.” I gritted out, picking up a pillow to throw at him but when I turned around he was already gone. 

Azriel did come to my room later in the day, but only long enough to bring me food and say goodbye. He was doing more patrols, checking  his network of spies for any word that Summer might be preparing to send soldiers to our doors. He left before I could say anything to him, only leaving a single shadow behind. It stayed near my bed until I ate the food Azriel had brought for me. Then, and only then, did the shadow retreat to the corner of my room, making me feel a little less alone as I drifted off to sleep. 

It took days for me to finally come out of my room. Nothing compared to the weeks of waiting for the queens to reply to our request. Rhys didn’t have to inform me I would not be coming to the meeting and I didn't have it in me to argue with his decision. He would keep an open line to me from the human lands and I would be able to add my two cents if it was needed. But after my reaction to Tarquin, wwe couldn’t risk another break down on my end. As much as everyone understood where I was coming from, they knew the role I played weighed heavily on me and if I was to attend the meeting I would need to play my part perfectly. A part I didn’t want to play at the moment. That would leave me with Amren, the ancient fae had not let the book out of her sight since it had been given to her. Rhys and I were the only others who had an inkling of how to translate the equally as ancient language, but it took me far more concentration than it took her. 

She didn’t seem to care because no sooner had my family left before she was hauling the book onto the table in my office. The map had been moved to a larger table so she sprawled out sheets of paper with random sentences scribbled onto them, like she was translating faster than she could write them down. I stared at the pages until my eyes began to blur over. Amren shot me a dirty look when I pushed away from the table rubbing my eyes. 

“Weak.” She muttered to herself and I didn’t dignify her taunt with a reply. I had nothing to prove to her, and she very well might be right. I didn’t have the same pull to war like she did, planning it was hard enough. Despite how naturally it came to me, I despised the scheming and backstabbing that usually accompanied it. I didn’t spare her a glance as I walked out of the room, leaving her to her own devices to try to make sense of the pages of the book. 

It was around dinner time when everyone appeared in the front room of the house. I could feel the tension radiating off of Rhys and I wondered why he hadn’t tried to contact me. Until I followed him into his office and he spun around, looking like he was ready to attack me. 

“They want proof that we’re not the court the rumors suggest. They want to see behind the mask.” He spit out, hands lacing into his hair looking like he might pull it from his roots. 

“What are you going to do?” I asked him softly. Taking very slow steps towards him. He growled before he pushed the contents of his desk to the ground. He stood, chest heaving rapidly as he just stared at the floor. 

“I’m going  to show it to them. For the first time since its creation, I’m going to show someone Velaris.” He sunk into his chair, like his legs would no longer support him. I sensed Cassian and Azriel behind me then. I shot them a look that told them to get out and they left as quickly as they had entered. I walked over to my brother and wrapped my arms around him. The sob he let out shook me to my very core and I could only hold him tighter. NO words of encouragement found their way from my throat. 

“I’m sorry for judging you so much over the last weeks.” He said once the sobs had stopped echoing around the room. 

“You were only trying to-”

“I was only being selfish. You made a hard choice and look at me the moment I’m presented with one.” 

“You’re allowed to feel things, Rhys.” A conversation we had had far too many times. He shook his head against my shoulder.

“Not if this is what it does to me. Not if it puts my family in danger.” He sounded so broken and exhausted. 

“You don’t have to do this alone.” My words only made him start sobbing again. And I just held him, not trusting myself to speak as he cried himself out. 

We didn’t speak of the events in his office, that singular moment of weakness from my brother and the others knew better than to ask. The withering glare I had shot Amren when she even attempted to pry served as warning to leave it be. They let it be as the focus quickly turned to the trip to Hewn city. The Veritas orb would be the only way the queens would ever truly believe us. 

So we all prepared. Dressing in finery like it was no different than our fighting leathers. Because in that wretched court they were synonymous. Lipstick akin to war paint and a lethal smile more than just an expression.

I dug in the back of my closet for the ballgowns I reserved only for these occasions. The one I chose for tonight was made of a fabric so black it looked purple. Cut outs at my waist and a neckline that nearly dipped to my navel. Twin slits up the legs that closed right under my hip bone. I left my hair down as I usually did, pinning it to one side of my head. Slipping in my crown I didn’t give myself another glance in the mirror. 

The dress left no room for weapons anywhere on my body but Azriel would be by my side as we searched for the orb. And hopefully he wouldn’t have to even think of using the polished blade that sat on his hip. 

Mor and I arrived first. Winnowing ahead of the others to announce our arrival. There weren't many preparations to be made, the court never one to stop partying. Only stopping enough to sleep or the occasional formal dinner. So Mor and I waited. And waited. Kier grew ever impatient at the lack of my brother's appearance. 

“He’s your high lord, he can come and go whenever he pleases.” My voice the perfect picture of an ice cold princess. Stuck up and full of mirth. He rolled his eyes at me.

“Yes of course, I just wish to go back to my own festivities instead of waiting for him to grace us with his presence.” 

“You will wait as long as he sees fit.” I bared my teeth at him and all he did was give me a wicked smile. I fought to keep my face even, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of riling me. 

Mor was shifting from foot to foot. Looking at her, you would think she was bored, but her tight grip on her arms was the only indication about how uncomfortable she was. Standing in the same room as her father. Neither of them so much as looked at the other. 

“Why don’t you go check on the others. Make sure they remembered we were coming.” I said to Mor, giving her an excuse to leave if only for a few minutes. She didn’t say anything, just gave me a tight nod in appreciation. When she arrived, her face was grim before that mask of indifference snapped back into place. I would have to ask her about it later. 

I almost sighed in relief when I saw my brother, Feyre in tow behind him, walk through the heavy obsidian doors. Kier had already gone back to the main room, my threatening promise of collecting him when my brother appeared. 

“Wait for the others.” Rhys said to me as he brushed by me, steps not faltering as he walked into the throne room. So I waited for Cassian and Azriel. They arrived a few minutes after Rhys had left the room. 

“What happened?” I hissed at them, seeing their glowing siphons. 

“Ambush. We’ll tell you more later.” Azriel said in a clipped voice, shadows whipping around his feet. Clearly agitated. I nodded. 

“You better.” I answered before we all fell into our positions. Azriel on my right and Cassian on my left, me a few paces in front of them. The three of us walked into the throne room. If it wasn’t already silent, the sheer presence of the three of us would have quieted it. As it was, eyes tracked our every move, people all but jumping out of the way of the three of us. Gone were the playful smiles and casual words. Here I was more than just darkness, if Rhys night incarnate and I was something different entirely. The absence of anything, a void. Everyone here had witnessed first hand my powers. The smoke that could incapacitate everyone standing before me, when I had my full powers. Then there was Azriel and Cassian, the wicked spymaster and the bloodthirsty general. 

A path was cleared for us up to the dias where Rhys was standing. Azriel and Cassian knelt at the foot of the marble steps. I joined my brother on the opposite side as Feyre. A feline smile gracing my features as I looked at the kneeling figures of the court. 

“How lovely of you to finally join us.” 

“Call it fashionably late.” Rhys chuckled darkly at my response. With that he walked over to his throne. Pulling Feyre onto his lap. I walked a few paces to stand beside him, my usual position as his sister. I was not expected to kneel for him, instead presenting a unified front. The terrifying high lord and his equally powerful sister. 

I tried to ignore the way Rhys ran his hands all over Feyre. She had already been warned of the role she would have to play while visiting this court. A role she accepted. I admired how bravely she was taking it all. He leaned in to whisper something I tried to tune out. The court is still kneeling, bodies shifting with the strain of the position. As if remembering that they were even there. “Go play.” Was the only acknowledgement he gave them. Dismissing them like they weren’t worth his time anymore. The music began after a few moments. People scramble to do something to distract themselves. 

I walked over to the two warriors as Rhys summoned Kier from his spot near the dias. I fought the urge to hiss at him as he walked by me. I let a small flicker of smoke leak from my hands instead, a threat. He snarled at me and I only let out a low laugh. 

Azriel was already waiting for me. Ready to surround us in darkness to retrieve the orb. We hung by the edge of the room for a little longer, slipping out seamlessly. 

I led the way down the twisting hallways to the vaults that lay hidden underneath Kier’s bedchambers. Azriel needed someone from our bloodline to get in that room, the wards being keyed to our family. We didn’t run into any guards on the way, the wards making it unnecessary.

We entered the cavernous room and began searching. Azriel sent his shadows off through the various tunnels to search ahead of us. We searched through room after room. Silently cursing my extended family for the sheer amount of things they held onto. Jewels and ancient tomes. Records of every dealing of the court of nightmares. I rolled my eyes at the absurd opulence of it all. Azriel’s shadows whipped back to him, wrapping around his shoulders. No doubt whispering of the orbs wearabouts. He grabbed my hand in his as the shadows slunk back to their previous location. The orb was sitting high on a shelf. Out or reach if it wasn’t for Azriel’s wings. He quickly scooped it up and placed it in a bag hidden underneath his leathers. 

We started the walk back to the throne room. The sound of footsteps alerting us of someone else's, several someones, presence. Without thinking, I pulled Azriel’s face close to mine. Bringing a hand up to his face. His hand went to wrap around my waist at the quick movement. 

“Play along.” I whispered to him. I gave a quiet sultry laugh and the footsteps stopped mere feet from us. I jumped back like they had surprised me. Peeling myself off of Azriel. I stepped away, forcing an embarrassed look onto my face. 

The two males only stared at Azriel and I. Taking note of the secluded spot, the space I had abruptly put between us. Predatory smiles graced their faces. 

“Don’t let us ruin your fun.” One said.

“Unless you would rather us join.” The other added. From the lilt of their voices, I could tell they were drunk. Too drunk to realize exactly who they were speaking to like that. I only made a disgusted sound, pulling Azriel behind me as the sound of their laughter echoed through the hallway behind us. 

Azriel and I blended seamlessly into the dancing crowd. The music was slightly more refined than earlier. He didn’t say anything to me as I pulled his hand into mine and put his other hand on my waist. He slowly let his shoulders relax, leaning into me and his footing became more sure. 

It didn’t take long for me to forget why we were doing this, that we had nearly been caught despite his shadows. As I danced with him, I forgot anything but us existed.

The music flowed through me making me feel light as he spun me around the dance floor. I didn’t care about the eyes tracking us across the room. I couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of his hands on my exposed waist. He whispered a joke at something his shadows must have picked up and I threw my head back with laughter. Truthfully I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this good. My mind fully focused on Azriel. 

I prayed to the mother he couldn’t feel the goosebumps that had risen along my skin against his touch. 

He dipped me low and I felt my breath stop. His face an inch from mine. It would be so easy to close that distance and feel his lips against mine. Every part of my brain was screaming at me to do it. His shadows raced around us like they could hear my thoughts. My traitorous body locked up when all I wanted to do was pull him to me. He took in the tension in my body and started to pull away. Panicking at the thought of losing his body heat against mine, I wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him back down to me, right as he started to stand me up. I bit back a moan as I felt the plush of his lips collide with mine. 

It was clumsy and rushed but I sucked down breaths full of him, hand still locked on his neck. His hands tightened their hold against me and he groaned my name before he pushed me away. 

“I’m sorry. I…” all the joy had leached out of me as I took in his face. He looked disgusted and before I could say anything else he was weaving through the crowd, leaving me alone on the dance floor. 

My mind was reeling. Lips still tingling in the aftermath. I had dreamed of that kiss for centuries but never could have predicted his reaction. The tears were streaking down my face before I quickly wiped them away, pushing my way through moving bodies. I needed to get out of this room, get out of this stupid dress that had suddenly become too tight to breathe. 

Before I could rip it off in the middle of the throne room, Rhys caught my elbow and was pulling me down to a quiet hallway. I haven't even realized he had left his throne. 

“What happened? Are you hurt?” I couldn’t answer with anything other than a sob. He took me into his arms and my skin crawled at the contact. I shrugged out of his hold and could only get out one word. “Mor.” I said her name like the lifeline it was. I saw the conflict in Rhys’ eyes. The need to make me feel better and not leave me alone. But as another sob passed my lips he was all but running away to grab the female I had requested. 

I was hiccuping between sobs by the time Mor arrived. Rhys nowhere in sight, probably returning back to that cruel High Lord facade. I don’t think I could have gotten the words out of what had happened if he was still standing beside me. I choked out the words to her. Recounting what happened and Azriel’s less than enthusiastic reaction. Mor was well aware of my feelings and her eyes shone with sympathy. She held me as I cried it out, tears soaking the fabric on her shoulder. Her hold on me helped to ground me and eventually my tears calmed. I gave her the tightest squeeze I could manage and she held me at arms length, examining my face. Her thumbs came up to wipe under my eyes, coming away with streaks of my makeup sticking to them. My own hands brushed along my face and a sigh of relief followed as I noticed my makeup hadn't smudged too much. No one would be able to know the mess a single kiss had just reduced me to. 

Taking Mors outstretched hand, she pulled me back into the main ballroom, music filling my ears again. The tempo had picked up more turning into something I might hear at Rita’s and definitely something you couldn’t waltz to. Couples had retreated to the sides as the dance floor became a breathing pulse instead of the graceful swell of movement it had been earlier. The pairs that had remained grinding against each other. Mor snagged two flukes of champagne as she pulled us deeper into the dance floor. I knocked mine back as quickly as I could and resolved to block out all the thoughts that were racing around in my head. So I danced with Mor until my brow was covered in sweat, my skin glistening at the rising temperature of the entire room. We ignored all the disgruntled looks aimed our way. Not caring if they heard our laughter for once. 

We both laughed as we found our way to the edge of the crowd again, grabbing more champagne. We both hung back catching our breath together and I let out a heavy sigh as I emptied the glass. I spotted the shadows from across the room and all but slammed the glass onto the table behind me. 

“I’m leaving.” Was all I said to Mor as I stalked away. She didn’t try to stop me, only grabbed my arm to winnow me back to Velaris. She didn’t linger. Returning just as swiftly as we had arrived. 

I just made it back to my room before the tears started anew. Ripping the pins out of my hair and peeling the beautiful dress off my shaking frame, I didn’t make it to my bed before I sunk down to my feet. Pulling my knees close to my chest I let the tears come. 

He was allowed to not return my feelings but in those moments on the dance floor that kiss had felt so real. The way I effortlessly fit against him or the laughter that flowed freely from me. It all felt so right and to see that look on his face. It broke some part of me I had been holding onto for so long now. That small dream that he could for some reason ever return my sentiments. That he would ever see me as anything as Rhys’ sister. 

I eventually was able to pull myself into bed and curl myself into a ball. Tears lulling me off to sleep. I must have dreamt that night because I swore I felt those familiar shadows glide over my skin but by the time I opened my eyes they were gone. 

I managed to pull myself out of bed the next morning. Pushing the stinging rejection to some deep part of me. There’s a war at our doorsteps and you’re crying over a kiss. I reminded myself to stop being so pathetic as I walked down the stairs to the kitchen. I was the last to arrive apparently. 

“You disappeared rather quickly last night.” Cassian said to me, tone teasing but laced with questions. 

“We got the orb, and I no longer wanted to be there.” I shrugged. Pointedly ignoring the gaze of the shadowslinger I could feel burning a hole in the side of my head. I didn’t talk to him all morning, suddenly finding someone calling my name when he tried to speak to me. It was childish, sure, but I didn’t have it in me to discuss it without breaking down in front of him. As it was, I could barely make eye contact with him. My lips tingled every time I look at him. A feeling that I imagine must be similar to being struck by lighting erupted over my skin. I couldn’t be in the same room as him. Lucky for me, Rhys had called me into his study to go over the events of last night. What that would mean for our upcoming trip to the queens.

I was so out of it that I didn’t even notice that Rhys had stopped talking. 

“What happened to you last night?” Rhys asked in a soft voice. I shook my head. If I started talking about it I wouldn’t be able to stop. Rhys would know everything.

“Weren’t you just the one telling me you don’t have to do this by yourself. Gods just let me help you.” 

“You can’t fix this, Rhys.”

“Why not?”

“Azriel kissed me.” He tensed at my rushed words. 

“Did he hurt you?” His voice was cold as death. I shook my head.

“Not the way you mean.” He tapped his hand impatiently against his desk, waiting for more of an explanation. So I sighed and told him everything. 

“How long have you been in love with him?” He asked when I finally finished my story. 

“I’m not-” His pointed stare made me wither. “Only a few years after you became high lord.” I admitted. He had the audacity to laugh. 

“Cassian and I called it.” I gaped at him.

“Not out loud or anything but we always assumed.” 

“That’s all you have to say about this?”

“You’re an adult. He’s an adult.” 

“So you have no idea why he reacted that way.” He looked sheepish at my question. Hands going to pick at an invisible piece of lint. “Rhysand.” He flinched as I said his full name. 

“No. I have no idea.” He threw his hands up in the air before he said “Have you tried, I don’t know, talking to him yourself?”

It was my turn to look sheepish. 

“That explains why you’ve been avoiding him all morning then.” A smile playing at the edge of his lips.

“And I’m sure you were whispering all about the mating bond in Feyre’s ear last night?” I returned. 

“Touche.” 

“Who would have guessed, the two scariest fae in all of Pyrthian and we run with our tails between our legs at the thought of a romantic relationship.” 

“Pathetic truly.”

“If only they could see us now.” I joked back. 

I felt better after my talk with Rhys, lighter even. It was nice to have him know even if it meant I would have to endure his teasing at times. Azriel said nothing about my change in mood as I finally acknowledged him, Rhys making a lewd gesture behind the spymaster. I fought to keep my laugh down. Azriel looked behind his shoulder to find a perfectly still Rhys, his head turned back to me and then to Rhys again, like he might catch him if he moved fast enough. 

“We should-” He started before I held up a hand.

“Not necessary. I got the message loud and clear.” He deflated ever so slightly at my words and didn’t say anything else. So I carried on about my day as usual, until it was time to get dressed for tonight.

The gown I wore tonight was vastly different from the one I wore to Hewn city. This was a silver, tiered dress. Ruffles formed to look like butterfly wings and encrusted with gems on the edges. The neckline was far more modest than my other dress, swooping gently right under my collar bone. I couldn’t help but twirl in the mirror. Giggling at the rainbows the clear gems threw across the ceiling. It truly was a gorgeous dress. One I had custom made from one of the shops in Velaris. 

I didn’t wait for any of the others to join me. I had gotten ready at the house of wind so I could join the festivities the moment I was ready. Too excited to waste one minute with Mor fussing about her hair. I stood on the balcony, eyes already searching for those little flickers of starlight. 

“You look beautiful.” A voice behind me said, making me jump. I haven't heard Azriel approaching behind me. He stood beside me by the railing, leaning on his elbows. It was peaceful, standing next to him with the wind brushing against my skin. The events from last night eddying out of my mind with him so close to me. 

“I missed this.” I nearly whispered to him. Looking out at the lights of the city I loved. Hearing the laughs and joyous shouts of everyone above us. It was all too much and not enough, the thought of it bringing happy tears to my eyes. Tears that I felt scared hands wipe away before I could. “I’m sorry. I just… I never thought I would see this again.” His eyes filled with a deep sadness. Before he could open his mouth to speak again, Mor called my name. Rushing over she put a glass of champagne in my hand, pulling me upstairs with the other. Azriel trailed behind us. 

I looked over my shoulder and gave him a soft smile that he returned. Cassian was waiting for all of us, talking to some pretty female that was batting her eyelashes at him. He didn’t give her a second glance when he spotted us approaching, the female calling his name as he retreated from her side. I could have laughed at the look she gave all of us but I didn’t have time to think about it as Cassian swept me into a bone-crushing hug. 

“Look at you all dolled up, princess.” Cassian said as he held me at arms length. 

“Couldn’t have you upstage me” I winked at him which only made him throw his head back with laughter. I joined in and felt a weight uncurl from my shoulders. 

“Come on.” Mor said as the music started to pick up. The telltale sign that the best part was just ahead. My eyes searched the crowd for my brother. I wanted to share this moment with him. I caught the outline of wings on the balcony above us. Tucked away enough that I really had to search for him. I saw the sparkle of Feyre’s dress and a warm smile plastered itself to my face. His arm was wrapped around her waist. I looked away, giving them their privacy. 

No sooner had I looked back to the sky did I see the faint trails of light beginning to fill it. First one, then a few more, then the sky was full of the brightly colored trails. Bits of stardust landed in the river below us, covering the surface with their glittering color. Mor grabbed my hand, pulling me into a uneleagant dance. Cassian and Azriel joined in a few moments later. The four of us not caring about the moves we made, simply soaking up each other's company. Azriel wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me close to his side and I felt my heart skip a beat. Mind instantly going back to our dance at the court of nightmares. He shot me an almost apologetic smile that told me he was thinking the same thing. I shrugged at him. Nothing to apologize for. He kissed me and I kissed him back. Simple as that. It didn’t have to mean anything, nothing more than the heat of the moment decision. As much as it hadn’t been that for me, as much as it stung to know that’s all he saw it as.

 Shaking the thoughts away, I grabbed his arm and swayed gently to the beat. Cassian and Mor devolved into a dance that was more jumping than dancing. They wrapped their arms around each other howling with laughter. 

I felt the glittering substance hit my arm. Looking down to inspect it, I noticed Azriel’s wings sporting their own splatters. It took every ounce of brain power I possessed not to reach up and brush it off of those beautiful wings. Instead I dipped a finger through the dust on my arm and wiped a streak over Azriel’s cheek. He stared at me in disbelief before a booming laugh left him. The sound warmed my heart. He laughed like this so rarely, truly carefree. It seemed so natural to lean in and rest my head against his chest. His arms wrapped around me as we just stood in each other's embrace. I tilted my head up so  I could see his hazel eyes already looking down at me.

“Azriel I…”

He let me go when Mor cried out my name, cutting off my words.

“You’re not nearly drunk enough.” She said pulling my arm to the table holding the full glasses. I turned to look at Azriel but he seemed to have disappeared already. His shadow trailing across my shoulder being the only indicator he had even been there. 

Mor and I stayed on the rooftop until the sun started peaking over the horizon. Coloring the Sidra a beautiful pink and orange. Sighing heavily as the lingering effects of the alcohol had started to wear off finally, leaving nothing but exhaustion in their wake. Mor simply grabbed my arm and winnowed us back to the house. 

Cassian and Azriel were asleep on the couches. A bottle of whiskey sitting empty on the table between them. They wouldn’t wake up until later in the afternoon. I threw blankets over both of them and started heading to my own room. I didn’t stay up long enough to bathe nor did I peel myself out of my dress. Suddenly too exhausted to even keep my eyes open. 

I woke up sometime in the late afternoon. Rhys all but pulled me out of bed.

“We're leaving soon.” That woke me up. With a curse I stumbled over myself to get to the bathing room. I took a hasty bath, washing away the remaining stardust that was stuck to my skin. I braided my hair and dressed in my Illyrian leather. Daggers slid into their place on my thigh. I strapped my sword to my back and was down to meet the others in less than thirty minutes. Rhys gave me an approving nod. 

Going to Windhaven never got any easier. I had no love for my old home. It was only a blessing from the cauldron that I haven't been born with wings. The cruelty I faced growing up was enough. The shudder that racked through me had nothing to do with the cold. 

I ignored the sneers from passing by males. Azriel and Cassian tight by my side serving as a buffer for the nasty comments that were usually thrown my way. Feyre was silent beside me, taking in the sights around her. 

We walked until Lord Devlon walked in front of us. A brutish male that was one of the few people in this world I can say I truly hated. Mor snarled at the mention of the girls they were supposed to be training. 

“And why aren’t the males helping them with the chores?” I dared to ask him. He looked at me like I was no more than a speck of dirt on his leathers. 

Before Devlon could grace me with a response Rhys cut him off. The demanding voice of a high lord telling him to clear out our old house. The tone even Devlon couldn’t argue with. 

Rhys, Feyre and I stood in the clearing. Time and time again she reached her power out, getting stronger each time. I practiced along with her. She stood in awe of the mist that poured out of my hands, getting thicker each time until it hugged the ground like fog. 

“When did you meet Tamlin?” Feyre asked after a string of questions about Illyria. Rhys and I both stiffened. The mist instantly retreated back into my hands. 

“Show me something impressive and I’ll tell you.” She rolled her eyes but did it anyway. Holding out her hand she conjured a butterfly out of the water in the snow. It was very impressive. 

“I’ve known Tamlin since he was young. The more decent children of the high lords at the time. Definitely better than Berons bunch.” He almost shivered and I willed the earth to swallow me whole. “And significantly better than his brothers, who knew from the moment Tamlin was born he would be high lord. He was the lesser of the evils so I decided it would be better if we were friends… I don’t know why but I even taught him some illyrian techniques.” 

“Did anyone know?” He shook his head. I blanched at the thought of how angry our father would have been had he known about Rhys and Tamlin’s friendship. Rhys looked to me, knowing the next part of the story was mine to tell. I just nodded at him, giving him permission to say the words I couldn’t. 

“When my father got wind of our friendship… for lack of a better term. He decided it was time for the two courts to align themselves more. And that’s where this gets even more complicated.” He trailed off, once again looking at me. 

“Why?” Feyre pressed on and I wish she hadn’t , wish she would have let it go at that. 

“Because the only way to join the courts in any way my father deemed worthy was to marry them together. Literally.” Feyre’s eyes went wide and her gaze landed on me. I couldn’t meet her eyes. Shame rising up, tightening my throat. Rhys continued. 

“We all saw the power that Tamlin had, the power that marked him as the next High Lord of spring. And without any sisters for me to get paired off to, that left one option.” He shrugged over at me. 

“What happened? I mean, I’m assuming you never…never went through with it.” I took a deep breath, willing my voice to work. 

“I moved to the spring court, I tried to fight it but my father would absolutely not hear it. Every plea fell on deaf ears. So I went because I had to,” my hands were shaking as I pulled up the memories. “It wasn’t so bad. Tamlin was different back then, sweeter, less guarded. At least when he wasn’t around his father. We became friends over time. But the closer we grew, the more protective he got over me.” She nodded, understanding the feeling. “Eventually it became a little more. He fell faster than I did, I never really saw him as more than a close friend but we were supposed to be married so I played along. Wishing every day that I could return his sentiments. Calanmi came that next year and he sought me out.” She paled at my words, her hand rubbing absentmindedly at her neck. I quickly added. “It wasn’t horrific by any stretch of the imagination. If I had said no, regardless of the magic, he wouldn’t have done it. Would have stopped. But that was when everything shifted for him. I couldn’t go out to the gardens without having his sentinels on my tail. Was damn near confined to only the house. Lucien wasn’t around as much then, still fairly new to the court. And of course, his father was watching our every move. Gauging the relationship as it progressed. Watched as I withered away under Tamlin’s overbearing protection.” I couldn’t stop the words as they flowed out of my mouth. 

“I pushed back as much as I could. I was constantly sneaking out which only made him more overbearing. We fought more than we didn’t. Both of us said and did horrible things to each other. I knew I couldn’t live like that forever. Couldn’t continue to suffer just because my father had some grand plan.” I finally met Feyre’s eyes and I almost flinched at the understanding in them. Of course she would get it. Her own experience was not too different from mine. She nodded at me, a sign to keep going. 

“So I started planning how to get back home. I couldn’t just winnow away in the dead of night. I knew he would come looking for me. I knew he wouldn’t let me go that easily. I had to break whatever love he thought he held for me, I had to make him let me go willingly. It wasn’t peaceful by any means. I went too far one day in an argument and for the first time ever he lost control.” I pulled up the arm to my jacket, letting the glamor fall away on the three angry claw marks that I never let heal. A reminder of just how destructive both of our tempers had gotten. 

“Why do you seem so calm about this, why didn’t you let me know…I would have-” Her skin was rippling with darkness. Fire flickering from her palms. 

“Would have what, Feyre? You were willing to die for him. I couldn’t take that away from you. I wanted to believe he could change, that he would be better to you. But that is simply how he loves.” I took a steading breath. “I said we both did some terrible things to each other and I stand by that. He’s a villain in my story as much as I am in his.” 

“We simply didn’t want to think we were trying to turn you against him” Rhys echoed. 

Rhys reached for her as she was already walking towards him. My ears barely picked up the whispered words. 

“I want to paint you.”

“Nude would be best” I rolled my eyes as Rhys reached to winnow me with them. 

I was able to catch up with Mor and Cassian as they surveyed the newest girls in training. Most of them were too scared to even pick up a sword, their eyes not moving from worriedly staring at Cassian. Signing, I stepped up in front of him. 

“Magic or no magic?” He asked, raising a challenging eyebrow to me. 

“Magic.” That gave him full permission to use his siphons. That was one department where I needed the practice as much as he did. I tried to pull all my focus on that kernel inside me. The smoke curled out from me before it retreated the moment I moved towards Cassian.

“Try harder.” He growled at me. And I did. I’d been able to coat the ground in the black fog. Cassian stepping to avoid it, but it followed him like a serpent. Twisting and curling around him. It was easier this time. More like trying to pull it through murky water as opposed to a brick wall. Something had changed since this afternoon. It was easier to hold onto it, and didn't leave me as breathless as before. It took a few more tries but I was even able to move around, the fog still staying on the ground. When we were done, I noticed Mor was coaching three of the girls who had been brave enough to pick up swords. I smiled at Cassian as we both watched her. It wasn’t much but it was progress. Slow progress but a start. 

All of us sat around the fire that night. Gathering as close as we could, trying to gain any sort of warmth from it. Feyre looked like her hands might just fall off, not built for or used to the frigid temperatures the night brought with it. We sat absently chatting as we all ate. Mor was going to Hewn city in the morning and Azriel had already left to scout out the human lands. I wasn’t happy with the idea of him going alone but he waved off my concern, promising me he would be safe. Mor, true to her word, left before the sun had even risen the next morning. Grumbling my good bye to her through sleep filled eyes. 

Rhys had convinced me to train with him and Feyre again. Impressed by the progress both of us had made so far. Feyre and I traveled further back into the clearing, putting space between her and my brother. I didn’t ever ask him what exactly had happened during starfall but the tension between the two was palpable and I didn’t blame her for needing space. As much as I hated being away from Azriel, the distance was nice. I felt like I was suddenly unable to think clearly around the shadowslinger. Thoughts more often than not drifting towards the memory of his lips on mine, his hands around my waist. 

A voice I recognized called out Feyre’s name. And to my horror it was not my brother but Lucien standing in the middle of the clearing. 

I stood by, ready to use my powers at the first sign from Feyre. Lucien and the wraiths at his side had yet to notice me. 

I hung onto every word of their exchange. Someone tipped us off that you had been here. Rage boiled my blood. Devlon no doubt being that someone. I took a step forward as Feyre stepped back. 

“Tamlin hasn’t been himself. We’ll take you back-

“Touch her and I kill you.” There was no warmth in my voice for my old friend. Lucien spun around so he was facing me. Giving Feyre time to put space between the two of them. He stared at me, mouth gaping. Smoke was already swirling around my feet. It would take nothing for me to reach out and get Feyre out of here. But this was her battle to fight. I wouldn’t make that choice for her. I felt my self control start to slip as he opened his mouth again.

“Of course. What poison have you been spewing into her ears?” He spit at me. 

“Don’t make this about me.” I spit back so harsh, he flinched. A twig snapping had Lucien whipping back to face Feyre. 

“Let’s go home.” He said as he reached out a hand. I reached for my dagger, wondering if I would be fast enough to sever it from his body if he reached any closer for her. 

“That stopped being my home the moment you let him lock me away inside.” She spoke, quiet as death. He at least had the decency to look ashamed. 

“He made a mistake. He’s sorry, we’re both sorry.” I couldn’t help the scoff that left my mouth. He only ripped his gaze on her away for a second. 

“All this time and you can’t come up with better excuses, Lucien?” I goaded him, “Will he change? Will he be better if she just gives him time?” I felt the fog thin out by my feet. I didn’t pay it any mind. 

I lunged forward the same time Lucien did. A shout leaving my mouth. But his hands found nothing. Feyre was now standing behind him with Rhys at her side. I didn’t let myself relax. 

“Didn’t your mother tell you what the word no means?” Lucien did nothing by spit at my brother's feet. But it was that one word from his mouth.Whoring prick. That had me lunging for him. A firm arm across my chest from Rhys was the only thing holding me back. 

“You made your point Feyre-now come home.” He reached his hand out again but feyre only stepped back. 

“You gave up on me.” The way she spoke those words hit me like a punch in the gut. Lucien’s eyes flickered over to me. No doubt remembering me saying similar things. I was suddenly very far away until I saw those beautiful IIlryian wings peek over her shoulder. Lucien to his credit did not fall as he stumbled back. 

“What did they do to you?” Horror laced his words. Good. 

“Tell Tamlin I won’t be coming back. That if he sends anyone for me, I’ll show him exactly what we do to those who wander into our court.” I felt no sympathy at the hurt that washed over Lucien's face. 

“You’re dead. You and everyone in your court.” He was gone before I had the chance to lunge at him. 

“Scheming prick. Stupid, overconfident bastard.” I kept shouting, kicking the snow around me. I had half a mind to go track him down at the spring court and finish the job I should have done a long time ago. It wasn’t truly Lucien I was mad at, no he was simply the messenger. Once again trying to clean up Tamlins messes. It was either that or have no court to call home. Anger flared through me at the thought. How Tamlin took advantage of Lucien’s situation and turned him into nothing more than a mindless crony. I didn’t pay attention to the words Rhys and Feyre spoke around me. Didn’t even notice Cassian flying in beside me until he gave my arm a small shake. I ripped it out of his hold without even thinking, letting loose a snarl. He spoke my name, reminding me of where exactly I was.

“You’re all safe. Come back with me.” He said, moving closer to me again. I felt the tears already sliding down my face as he scooped me into his arms. 

I hardly moved for the rest of the night. The shivers that ran through me had nothing to do with the cold. Azriel was still hunting for lingering signs of Lucien or the spring court so that left Cassian to deal with me. Something he was not known to be the best at, despite his best efforts. 

I sat with him until Mor came to collect us both, whatever business she had in Hewn city officially ended. 

She sat with me all night. Both of us curled up against each other as we slept. 

Rhys and Feyre were supposed to be back later in the day so we all waited around for them. Hour after hour past and not a word from them. Azriel had left once again when we told him as much. He returned an hour later. 

“Nothing?” I asked him. He slammed his sword down on the table. 

“Not a damn thing.” He huffed, storming to one of the rooms in the back of the house. 

It was almost nightfall and I had been pacing back and forth across the living room of the small house when I heard a noise from outside. All of us were on our feet, rushing outside before we could think better of it. 

The sigh of relief that left me quickly turned into a gasp as I saw Rhys fall to his knees. Cassian and Azriel were on their side of him instantly. Feyre was still standing, in perfect shape actually. Good enough that she was able to march right past me and into the house. The two Illyrian warriors all but dragged Rhys into the house before leaving to go collect Majda. Feyre or Mor were nowhere to be seen.

Rhys’ eyes opened slightly and he only called out Feyre’s name. I shushed him, dabbing a wet washcloth over his head, he was burning hot. Majda came and confirmed what I already knew. Poison. Faebane. 

“He’s healing so he’ll need to just sleep it off,” she rose from beside his bed. “His mate's blood very well might have saved his life. He’ll recover in a day or two.” Her words caught me off guard. His mate. If Feyre knew her blood could heal him…Shit. Casssian and Azriel must have made the connection at the same time I did because when we heard Mor enter the house again, we all ran to find her in the living room. 

We pulled out a bottle of good wine as she confirmed what we had already thought. Feyre knew, no she doesn’t seem happy. No I won’t tell you idiots where she is. Of course, we could find her on our own if need be but it was the idea behind it. Mor only shared the more intimate details with me. Shooing the males out of the room. “Go take care of Rhys if you care that much. He’ll tell you himself.” They both stomped off in a way that reminded me of toddlers, walking into Rhys room. Mor rushed the words out. Feyre was fine overall, just pissed at him at all of us for keeping something this big a secret. I didn’t blame her one bit but it still stung a little that she was mad at all of us. Did she know how much we had been begging Rhys to tell her? 

Rhys woke up in the middle of the next day. He winced as I slammed the door

“How did she find out?” 

“Hello to you too. No, how nice to see you Rhysand, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“How did she find out?” I asked again. He sat up a little more, wincing slightly

“She trapped the Suriel.” I balked at him. “It seems it’s not the first time she's done it either.” 

Feyre had trapped the Suriel… that could mean. I didn’t want to get my hopes up but I was already on my feet. 

“Where are you going?” 

“Stay out of it, Rhys.” I closed the door a little softer. It took me practically getting on my knees, begging, to convince Mor to take me to the house she tucked Feyre away in. She only agreed when I promised I wouldn’t mention my brother. She needed to bring Feyre more food anyways.

I stood outside the door, feeling very stupid as I held a basket full of food for her.“If you’re asking me to forgive him, you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Feyre had only opened the door an inch

“I need you to tell me how to catch the Suriel.” She opened the door wider

“Why do you want to know?” She motioned me into the house and I looked around wildly. The smell of fresh paint lingered in the air and covered her skin. 

“I have something I need to ask. Please. I know you don’t owe me anything, especially right now. But please.” 

I stood in the middle of a clearing, new cloak in hand. My hands had frozen on the walk over but I had to talk to the Suriel. I knew it was around here, if it had talked to Feyre only the night before. The snare I made was sloppy at best. But I prayed to the mother it would work. 

The scream that echoed through the clearing had me running towards the sound, crossing my fingers. 

It had indeed worked. The Suriel had my velvet cloak in its hands.It thrashed violently as I approached, suddenly;y going still as it sensed my presence. 

“ Let me down before I gut you.” 

“I have a question first.” Hollow eyes looked at me, pinning me in place. 

“You seek answers about your curse?” 

“How do I get rid of it?” 

“You already know how. The very thing that the wicked queen knew you would never do.”

“Stop the games. Tell me.” I was shouting, hands shaking. 

“Forgiveness. Forgive the one you hate the most.”

I flinched like the Suriel had burned me. The words swam around my head. I vaguely realized I was shaking my head. 

“That can’t be it.” I pleaded. 

“I am many things, but a liar is not one of them.” I felt the angry tears starting to trail down my face. “Now let me go. I only have so much patience for meddling fae today.” I pulled out one of my jeweled daggers, slicing the rope that held the Suriel’s ankle. As the figure retreated, I sank down to my knees. Forgive the one you hate the most. 

It was a rare occurance to be summoned to her private chambers. Attors on either side of me, ready to strike at the first sign of push back. They unceremoniously threw me into the center of the room, pushing me to my knees in front of the red headed female. 

“Leave us.” She said in a voice that turned my stomach. I dared to raise my eyes off the ground. Rhys was perched in a soft looking chaise, he didn’t hold my eyes for long. The Attors shuffled out of the room but I knew they lingered in the hallway. 

“I hear you’ve been causing trouble again, princess.” It was all I could do not to flinch at the way she said that name. The name my family had called me for centuries. A defiled, twisted rendition of the sign of my family's love. “Well, I have a surprise for you.” Her voice dripped with a wicked delight. From somewhere in the room a noise drew my attention. I completely froze as I saw Tamlin being led out in chains. Even Rhys momentarily broke his mask to glare at him. Amarantha smiled at me as she walked over to him. She squeezed his cheeks in an overly familiar way. “Doesn’t he look good like this?” She laughs at my lack of response, pushing him away from her. He didn’t try to hide his stumble. “No groveling at his feet then? No apologies for the mess you got him into?” 

“That’s no-” An invisible hand around my throat cut off the words. Rhys’ eyes flickered to mine, an apology lingering in his violet stare. 

“Did I say you could speak?” She released her magic and I nearly fell to the ground, sucking in painful gulps of air. She stalked towards me, stopping inches from me. Her hand went out to cup under my chin, forcing me to look her in the eye. “Maybe if you hadn't broken his heart, he would have accepted my offer the first time.” I bared my teeth at her and she gave a sharp cold laugh. 

“Oh, this is going to be so much fun. Are you sure there’s no kind words for our little High Lord over here?”  I just held her gaze. Not wavering as I saw the fury in my lack of response, my lack of fighting. “Pity. Where’s that sharp tongue of yours now?” She pushed me, I landed on my back. I didn’t even cry out, too familiar with this treatment from her. 

“You’ve made your point.” Rhys said in a bored voice from his seated position. She only gave him a low growl. 

“You’re no fun.” She cooed at Rhys. The same voice you would use on a babe. Despite my best efforts, trails of black smoke so thick it looked like ink left my fingers. Another invisible force collided with my body and my power retreated back to me, my chest feeling like someone had poured ice water into my veins. Before I could even attempt to try again, she lifted me onto my feet by my hair. “As much as I’d love to see you try, I’m bored with you already.” She yanked my head back before releasing her hold on me. “Tamlin, any words of goodbye?” Forest green eyes met mine. After all that I endured in this hell, I had never felt as small as I did now. That simple glare, so full of hatred, reducing me to that same afraid girl I had once been. Tamlin didn’t speak. Neither did I. 

“Shame. You’ll wish you would have said something soon enough.” I didn’t have time to think over her words as the cold hands of the Attor wrapped around my arm, hauling me back to my room. Didn’t make the connection between that slam in my chest with the trickle of power that I was left with. 

It was right there. Amarantha was never one to just give you information. Just like that riddle that had saved us all. Everything had been a game to her, why would this have been any different? But there had to be another way. Thinking back to my encounter with Lucien recently, there was no way in hell I was forgiving any of them any time soon. I would talk to Helion. Go by myself if need be. Because it was going to be a cold day in Hel before I ever forgive Tamlin. 

I called out for Rhys. For anyone to come and get me. It was at least a day's journey on foot back to the boundary line outside of Windhaven. I sat by and no one came after me. I reached deep within myself and imagined the space I wanted to go to. I didn’t even make it half way before I popped back into the cold clearing, panting. I tried again and it was like I was reaching through brick again. My powers boarded up behind walls I could not break through. I kicked at the snow, cursing. I tried one last time, crying out when nothing happened. So I began to walk back, hoping when I got close enough Rhys would hear me screaming for him in my head. It wasn’t Rhys that came to get me. Instead, Mor appeared beside me. 

“Where have you been?” She said when she spied me, half frozen from the wind. 

“Later.” Was all I could get out, I was bone tired. 

“You all really need to get your shit together.” She grumbled under her breath as she winnowed us back to the house. Don’t I know it.

Rhys had gone to apologize to Feyre, and had not been back since. We could only hope that meant all was well, or that she had at least hid the body herself. 

Rhys and Feyre returned the next day. They didn’t even attempt to hide the smell of the bond, and as happy as I was for my brother I gave him a wide berth. Cassian on the other hand only saw the tension in Rhys shoulders, the way his eyes were drifting between Feyre and every other movement around him. 

“Anytime you want a real ride, Feyre, let me know.” As if his words weren’t enough, the wink he sent Feyre had Rhys lunging for him. I had to quickly side step out of the way to avoid being hit by flailing wings. Ushering Feyre into the house I muttered loud enough for her to hear, “Big Illyrian babies.” 

They fought for an hour and despite being covered in blood, Feyre sent Rhys a look that the rest of us could not run away from fast enough. Mor winnowed the two of us to the house of wind. Azriel was already there, wings tucked in tight as he looked out the large window overlooking Velaris. I snuck up behind him, a rare achievement to make the spymaster jump when I placed a hand on his shoulder. The others slowly trickled into the room as we all waited for Feyre and Rhys to join us. 

The sun was just starting to touch the water when we heard them enter. One by one we stood in front of Feyre before giving a low bow, hands on our hearts in an ancient gesture of respect. One she had more than earned. I couldn’t help but smile at my brother's joy, it radiated off of him in waves so strong I swore I could reach out and grab them. The joy of finally having Feyre by his side. Rhys’ eyes followed my hand as I rubbed a small circle into my chest, separate from the sign we had given Feyre. The tension eased slightly.  Rhys quickly looked away before I could ask him why he was staring so intently on me. 

The human world was just as I remembered it. Despite seeing it less than a month ago, I still gawked as we approached Feyre’s family home. I knew she never lived in this particular estate but the idea that Tamlin made this possible for them thawed my heart just a fraction. Forgive the one you hate the most. I haven't gotten the chance to talk to my brother, or anyone, about what Suriel had told me. Everyone too caught up in Rhys and the Queens we were sitting in front of. 

I sat in stunned silence at the vipers in crowns in front of us. The queens I had met before would laugh if they heard these were their predecessors. 

Mor opened the box in front of her and I had to sit on my hands to stop the urge to knock it out of her hands and destroy the orb. Azriel’s hand on my shoulder did nothing to calm the storm brewing inside of me. We all took a collective breath as the bright lights of Velaris filled the orb.

“This is Velaris,” My brother started and I felt his heart shatter in front of me. “For five thousand years, we have kept it a secret from outsiders. This is what I have fought so hard to protect. The cruelty you believe I possess to protect this city, my people. Dreamers and creators and good people with families. People that have never known strife or violence. All of what I have gone through over the centuries was to protect them.” I couldn’t stop the sniffle that left me and I desperately tried to blink back the tears rimming in my eyes. 

“We will..consider this information.” Mor snarled beside me. I felt like the eldest queen had punched me in the stomach. I went to stand but Nesta beat me to it. 

“Give.Them.The.Book” I didn’t discount the single tear streaking down her own face. 

“No.” A word so final I couldn’t breathe. 

“We appreciate the gesture of your trust.” But I could not look away from the way Cassian stood next to Nesta. The calm he emitted from standing so close to her. When I looked back the queens were gone. 

I looked to my brother, head reeling at the events that had just happened. We fulfilled our end of the bargain. Screaming, manipulative-

In Rhys’ hand sat a box, a box not unlike the one Feyre had struggled to open when we returned from the summer court. A surprised noise left my mouth and Azriel tightened his hand on my shoulder, rubbing small comforting circles. 

Nesta and Elain chose to stay in the mortal lands. The sisters are staying in their family home. The last thing I heard before we left was Nesta whispering to Feyre. That’s why you painted stars on your drawer. 

There was no celebration when we arrived back in Velaris. No sense of triumph as we handed the book to Amren. We had gotten what we needed but at what cost. To Rhys, to my family, it had cost everything. All that he suffered during the war, from my father, from the Illyrian soldiers that looked down on him so much. All that he suffered under the mountain, from Amarantha, all the horrible things we had done together. All of it was sacrificed to the wicked queens who still did not know we possessed the book. Queens who would gladly sit back and watch Prythian and their world be destroyed. 

Rhys and Mor went to the Court of Nightmares the next morning, to return what we had stolen before Kier noticed. Azriel and Cassian pulled me into my study to go over the map, planning for the inevitable war. We added more pins to the maps, adjusting the Illryians to their new location scattered across the mountain ranges. Added the black pins for the warriors we prayed Kier would grant us. I don’t know how long we stayed in that room, Cassian and Azriel periodically doing a lap of the house and its perimeter to watch for anyone who would want to hurt Feyre. Overgrown guard dogs. But I found that even I was keeping a more watchful ear out for any sign of trouble, a light cover of fog I kept over my hands like gloves, ready to attack at a moment's notice. 

The next day, Azriel pulled me from the map to accompany him on patrol. Leaving Cassian the great pleasure of entertaining Feyre until Rhys’ return later today. The city held an eerie silence today despite the citizens going about their usual routines. It wasn’t much later than that thought crossed my mind that I felt the ground beneath my feet quake. My head whipped to Azriel who had gone as still as a statue, his shadows scattering out from him searching for the source of the sound. 

“Azriel?” I questioned, looking around the area for any threat. And then I followed his eye line. Eyes turned to the once clear midafternoon sky, now tinged in clouds of darkness. They were moving far too fast to be only storm clouds. 

“Get Amren and Cassian, now” I choked out. Azriel’s arms were around me instantly, taking off into the sky. Feyre and Cassian had gone to the amphitheater on the other side of the city, hopefully they weren’t far from there. A red light filled the sky, a homing beacon to where we would find Cassian. Quake after quake filled the ground as those creatures tore through the shield around the city. They reverberated through the air, Azriel only held onto me tighter.  

Cassian was shooting through the sky and I felt the ground beneath my feet. Azriel stayed long enough to hear me cry out to him, “Be safe.” He was gone. And I was running towards the direction I had seen Cassian fly in from. Screaming filled the air and I reached for the sword on my back, daggers left forgotten on my hip. I gave tentative push of my power and could have cried in relief at the cloud that pushed out from me, however thin it was. I pulled my earlier thought from my mind, the twinge of something I felt as I had looked at Feyre’s home in the human lands, the physical proof of Tamlin taking care of them, I focused all my spare energy onto that single kindness and I watched the fog grow thicker, curling around me in a way that was so familiar.

 I clutched at that feeling as I heard the screams around me grow louder. I could not run fast enough to stop the swarm of Attor like creatures that flooded the streets. I thought of Elain’s sweet face and Nestas beautiful dresses and willed my power to wrap around the creatures in front of me. If they could see me, they didn’t let it show. The only sign I had that my power had worked against them was the choked screams they let out. My sword tinged with their blood as I ran it clean through them. I pulled that black smoke into me, panting as I forced my legs to run ever faster. Reaching out for something deeper, I visualized the next swarm of them I could see and I felt the familiar pressure as I appeared in the middle of them. Shooting my power out with a force I didn’t recognize, I made quick work of them. They didn’t even get the chance to scream this time. I couldn’t focus on the blood that now stained my blade and face. Could only think of the distance between me and the bright pops of red and blue in the sky, the water I could hear roaring just ahead of me. If I had looked up I would have seen the pack of water wolves Feyre was using to chase them from the city streets and back into the air. 

The tremble that took my feet out from under me was one that did not scare me. Rhys had arrived and his rage took out half of their forces. His power filled the air with a metallic scent and I did my best not to think about what the dusting of red was as it covered my skin. A second roar, far stronger than the first one spurred me on. I did not fear the darkness that slipped over my eyes, those stars and nothing short of pure night. When I could finally make out shapes again, I saw the outline of wings, not those gnarled and bony wings of the creatures attacking us, but Illyiran wings, claws fully extended. I didn’t think as I barreled towards the shape. Didn’t think as I launched myself into Azriel’s chest. His arms came to wrap around my waist, pulling me so tight to him I struggled to breath but I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I gulped down whatever breath I could, filling my lungs with the scent of him. Heart hammering in time with his own wild heartbeat. The screaming had stopped, leaving only a horrifying silence in their wake. I did not let go of Azriel as he winnowed us back to the townhouse. 

All of us were sitting in the living room of the house in various states of disarray. Mor’s hair was caked with dirt and flecks of blood, her eyes starting to flutter shut. Feyre was curled up next to her also looking like she was ready to fall asleep any moment. 

I could see the gears in Cassian's head spinning. The general already thinking about what this means for the greater battles ahead. Obviously, the queens had sold us out to Hybern. Our home had been used as a bargaining chip and it had bit us in the ass. 

My eyes flickered over to Rhys and I could tell his thoughts were in a similar spot. It wasn’t your fault. I said into his head. He flinched, a disgusted look replacing the grief for a brief second. I told them where the city was, I gave them the information freely and for the first time in centuries an outsider knows about the city and then we get attacked. How is that not my fault sister? It was my turn to flinch. With Rhys in his current mood, there was no point in trying to argue back. So I finally closed my eyes and tuned out the conversation between Cassian and Rhys. I didn’t have the energy to talk about Hybern right now. The throbbing headache behind my temples let me know just how much magic I had used today and let me know how much I needed to start hunting for ways to break this curse.

At some point Azriel had stretched out next to me on the couch, my back to his side. Half asleep, I turned to face him and just grabbed his arm. Curling around him as best as I could in our current position. Someone in the room chuckled as I settled down once again. I don’t know how much time passed as they all just sat and talked. I drifted in and out of sleep but couldn’t piece anything coherent together. At some point I felt Cassian standing over me. 

“Come on let’s get you to bed.” His voice held more humor than I would expect from him after today. My eyes didn’t even open before I said. 

“Move me from here and you will lose that hand.” I snuggled closer into Azriel to prove my point. The male by my side laughed a stiff laugh but wrapped his arm around me tighter. I was too tired to care about the content purr that left my chest at the motion. Too tired to care that he scooped me up in his arms and carried me all the way to my room. And definitely too tired to hear the three words he whispered to me as he closed my door.

Taglist: @nickishadow139 @tothestarsandwhateverend @quinzzelx @durgenyx @i-am-infinite @mariahoedt @acourtofbatboydreams @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @nocasdatsgay

[captain-joongz]

Abraxas; Masterlist

Pairing: mafia boss!Min Yoongi x police office!reader

Genre: humour, angst, investigation themes, dark themes, enemies to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut, some fluff

Summary: My downfall ended up being a story in three acts. The introduction, the seduction, the damnation.

Or; Young and fresh out of police academy, I set out to take down one of the biggest gangs in Seoul. I didn't expect the whirlwind my life would become after meeting the one and only Min Yoongi. Caught between two worlds, it was hard to say whether I was pulled down or returned where I always belonged.

Current word count: cca 78k

Warnings: dark themes, talks of illegal activities, murder, sexism in the workplace, brief reader x OC, eventual smut, innacurate description of police work, some slight stalking (reader tailing Yoongi), each individual chapter will have its own warnings

A/N: welcome to my new and very first series! I will attempt to update this every month, so it's done quicker. Hope you enjoy your reading, don't be shy and feel free to interact!

Taglist is open! Let me know if you wanna be added ^^

playlist / songs that fit the vibe : daylight by david kuschner, love again by dua lipa, let the world burn by chris grey, nothing matters by the last dinner party, killshot (slowed + reverb) by magdalena bay, adore adore by yoav, little girl gone by chinchilla, play with fire by sam tinnesz, the night by choi baek ho, astonist's lullaby by hozier, take me to church by hozier, smoke sprite by so!yoon!, all the good girls go to hell by billie eilish, my strange addiction by billie eilish, nobody's soldier by hozier, wet nightmare by bibi

Act 1;

Ch. 1 | Interlude I. | Ch. 2.1 | Ch. 2.2 | Ch. 3.1 | Ch. 3.2 | Interlude II. | Ch. 4 | Interlude III.

"That which is spoken by God-the-Sun is life; that which is spoken by the Devil is death; Abraxas speaketh that hallowed and accursed word, which is life and death at the same time. Abraxas begetteth truth and lying, good and evil, light and darkness in the same word and in the same act. Wherefore is Abraxas terrible."

- 3rd sermon, Seven Sermons to the Dead, Carl Jung

The First Companion | An Old Friend | Boy Warrior |

Act 2;

TBA

"The bird fights its way out of the egg. The egg is the world. Who would be born must first destroy a world. The bird flies to God. That God's name is Abraxas."

- Demian: The Story of Emil Sinclair's Youth, Hermann Hesse

The Prodigal Son | Enemy of an Enemy is a Friend | The Golden Maknae |

Act 3;

TBA

"It is splendid as the lion in the instant he striketh down his victim. It is beautiful as a day of spring. It is the great Pan himself and also the small one. It is Priapos.

It is the monster of the under-world, a thousand-armed polyp, coiled knot of winged serpents, frenzy.

It is abundance that seeketh union with emptiness. It is holy begetting. It is love and love’s murder. It is the saint and his betrayer. It is the brightest light of day and the darkest night of madness.

To look upon it, is blindness. To know it, is sickness. To worship it, is death. To fear it, is wisdom. To resist it not, is redemption.

It is the delight of the earth and the cruelty of the heavens. Before it there is no question and no reply.

That is the terrible Abraxas."

- 3rd sermon, Seven Sermons to the Dead, Carl Jung

Epilogue

[en-stbc]

i've seen enough people crying over this uzi sacrifice scene in ep7 but i don't think enough people actually analyzes esp uzi and N's character (atleast from what i've seen??) and my god i need to rant because this scene the more i watch it the more it ABSOLUTELY destroys me (save me nuzi save me...)

messy rant incoming...

alright, quick recap of the characters so i can later explain my points better

pilot uzi had no one to rely on, treated as a freak by her community, neglected by her father and overall completely isolated with the world. She had no one but herself, that's why she never allows herself to show any vulnerabilities so people won't take advantage of her and literally dismisses her own feelings and coping mechanisms as "angsty hormonal teen feelings" and developed a inferiority complex of wanting to prove herself and be recognized. Meeting N was more than just a change of trajectory in her life, he helped her in so, SO many ways from making her realize that her feelings are validated and it's okay to lean on others when you need it the most, to be vulnerable- something that she desperately needed but was never provided- to helping her just.. overall improve herself and promise that he'll always be there when she needs him the most. N is so integral in uzi's life, all she needed was someone to understand her, and there he was.

meanwhile N is always treated as a worthless nobody by people around him which is very evident in the pilot with his interactions between J and V. He clearly has issues when it comes to his own self worth and completely robbed of autonomy. All he ever wanted was to be useful and seen by others, which leads to him going along with other's insane crazy ideas without questioning morals and rights or wrongs. Uzi was the one that helped him find a ground he can stand on and finally being able to defend himself and what he thinks is worth protecting, as well as being a genuine friend he can finally talk and bond with after being ignored for so long.

and back to the scene. The reason why this scene hurts so much for me is that uzi finally found someone so important to her that she's willing to sacrifice herself and thanked N for "everything" he's ever done. He gave her everything that she could possibly ask for, she was content. Uzi even used her solver powers to push N away to make sure he wasn't in danger or an attempt to save her. The fact that she even thanked N, making it sounds like her final words to him implies that she was okay with dying and giving up her own life just really says how much N meant to her. She couldn't have done all of this without meeting him, to be selfless and sacrifice yourself for someone you truly love.

for N he's probably absolutely devastated, especially after V's sacrifice the ep before. Both of his closest friends sacrificed also for the sake of saving him, he literally could not do anything but watch them disappear in front of him. He'd probably blame himself so much for failing to save them and the fact that he has self harm tendencies every time he makes a mistake... N is definitely VERY TRAUMATIZED from this and also needs time to heal as well.

overall im very normal about nuzi these 2 will be the death of me i love them so much. both of them meeting each other was the best thing that ever happened to them and watching them grow and develop is so 😭😭😭

have a good day thank you so much for reading this very messy rant and bare with my very limited vocabulary if you did... ;3