#- mainly because its so easy to be open and vulnerable around her!

[fate-defiant]

Duck hits different when you're no longer thirteen and in the throes of navigating friendships for the very first time and defining yourself by your social ineptitude.

[the-s1lly-corner]

TADC cast crushing on the reader

+ gummigoo and princess loolilalu!! Hooray! i think i might have written something like this a long long long time ago buuuuuuuut with episode 2 out and more info on some characters, i decided to remake it... if i have written this before..!

Notes: reader is GN but post mainly focuses on the canon characters

CWs: none

CAINE

Very obvious, and he's not going to waste too much time flirting with you before he asks you out on a date. He gives you special attention compared to the other circus members and always checks in on you first. He's open to flirting, but he doesn't go overboard with it... he's got to keep it family friendly, you know! Boggles at you if you return the energy, before regaining himself and hitting right back with a line. Doesn't hold back any punches when trying to impress you, it hits its peak when he tries to ask you out. It can get... overwhelming...

POMNI

Poor girl. She's so awkward around you, she doesn't want you to think she's some loser. Even though she kind of is already/j. Tries to make conversation with you to get to know you better and to just spend time with you. She's... clumsy... in the sense that she stumbles over her own words and seems more on edge when you're around. You might even think you did something wrong to make her act so tense around you. Not at all confident when asking you out, actually you might be the one to ask her first just to get the tension done and over with. She tries her best not to seem rude or put off by you, she's just clamming up is all!

RAGATHA

Similar to Pomni she's a little awkward, but she keeps herself composed much easier. Yoinking the fact that she practices her words before talking to someone and using it here. She hypes herself up before knocking on your door to check in on you. Very attentive to you and your needs, she subconsciously puts your wants/needs above her own... call her out on that because there's going to come a point where it's going to come to her detriment. Makes you things every now and then, cannot accept anything in return but she will try. Asks you out when she feels the time is right, and even if you don't feel the same she tries to move on with the friendship as normal unless you want some space.

JAX

When he's crushing someone he's the type to tease them and lightly bully them. "But Admin, he already does that," You might say. And you wouldn't be wrong. I can see him leaning more into it, though. So if you notice him getting onto you more than he did before.. well you might just assume he's being a jerk. He thinks love is gross, as immature as it sounds. Cooties mentality, so he does what he can to try to smother those feelings. On top of that he hates the idea of being vulnerable, giving him all the more incentive to try to destroy those feelings. Oddly enough, he still tosses pickup lines your way if he notices it gets under your skin. Is it mean? Yes, but let's not forget that Jax IS mean...

KINGER

It's hard to tell when he's crushing on someone simply because he's so... Kinger. But some big signs to let you know that you're on his mind is him hovering around you more and more as time passes. He's already lost his wife and deeply scared that something is going to happen to you. Actually, that fear might push him to tell you how he feels fairly quickly. It's nearly suffocating, and he needs that peace of mind that he can at least tell you how he feels before anything hypothetically happens. Strikes up conversations whenever he can, a lot revolving around his own interests because that's what helps keep him grounded and in the present moment... but he wants to hear you talk to! A bit of a flirt, surprisingly, but he's very polite about it.

ZOOBLE

Its hard to read zooble sometimes, but they make it easy by being forward with you. They come forward when they realize they have feelings for you, and that said feelings aren't just a dud and won't pass easily. Very accepting on whatever you answer, but I can see them needing some space from you if you reject them. It doesn't mean the friendship is over, Zooble just needs time to get those feelings out. Similarly to Jax, they don't like being vulnerable like that. Unlike Jax, they want to get it done and over with sooner rather than later. Not a flirt, but they will become more... noticeably relaxed and open around you. At least by Zooble standards.

GANGLE

Shy.. and awkward... I know I keep saying the girls are awkward, but Gangle is going to give Pomni a run for her money with how much of a mess she becomes. Doodles you a lot, becomes more cagey about her sketchbooks and papers because of this. Follows along with whatever you suggest you two do for the day, and doesn't protest all that much because she wants to make you happy and perhaps even impress you. Definitely fantasizes about some fanfiction-esque scene that leads to the two of you ending up together... it's actually a little... pathetic... and it's unlikely to happen like that, and knowing a certain circus member.. cough cough Jax.. she's probably not going to get the chance to tell you herself on her terms...

LOO

Very straight forward and confident when asking you out, and she takes it with grace if you don't feel the same. Similar to Caine, she gives you special attention! She might even give you some special privileges in her kingdom... definitely gives you some pointers that she's developing some feelings for you. A great listener, wants to know just about everything about you and she's going to let you rant and ramble about anything you want. She responds too, by the way. She doesn't just listen, she keeps the conversation going. Leaves you gifts every now and then!

GUMMIGOO

If this is post... everything... and he was allowed to stay, having a crush on someone so soon actually distresses him a little bit. He's just learned that he's an NPC and everything he knew prior to... everything.. was fake.. it all feels too sudden. The stress translates into frustration, so you may fall under the impression that he's upset with you. He is.. but only a little, for making him feel like this. But a bulk of it is towards himself and his circumstances. If this were any other time or if he didn't have the knowledge he has now, he would be more open and even attempt to flirt and tease you. Sad stuff.

[emersonfreepress]

ok ok in the spirit of community, how would the ros fair in a paintball war?

(referring to this ask! like the zombie au post this ended up making me think a lot 😅)

ohh... interesting, interesting... p sure the only paintball wars i’ve really seen were the ones featured in The League, Peep Show, and Community... but let me wrack my lil head...

ok, i ended up coming at this from multiple angles like the zombie au post 😅 always so much to consider in battle environments! and in the spirit of community, I'll stick with the individual player elimination style paintball match. in the woods with other e prep seniors. last one standing wins bragging rights

Gabe

Shooting skill | 6/10 - Experience with shooting and practice with Kile ofc

Stealthiness | 8/10 - He's done a fair amount of sneaking around during his after school activities, is super observant (or just paranoid lol), and naturally light on his feet. Good luck ambushing him.

Strategy | 8/10 - Strike deals. Do favors. Form alliances. Shoot 'em in the back once they’ve outlived their usefulness. ...What? It’s just paintball.

How does he win? | Graciously. Gabe likes winning, and especially via strategic manipulation, so it puts a smile on his face. And he's in a good mood so he treats a bunch of you to ice cream or smth 👀

How does he lose? | Slumps in frustration at being outwitted or taken off-guard, sulks about it for a little while. He's not that sore of a loser but needs time to lick his wounds and stop thinking of the different choices he could have made.

Kile

Shooting | 9 - The most accurate shooter of the cast and easily one of the best shots at E Prep. Lots of practice + talent

Stealth | 10 - They're stupid good at climbing trees and 100% consider that a valid method of ambushing their classmates. People start having flashbacks to 3rd and 4th grade recess and P.E. Scanning the trees. They just start taking people out with such efficiency it quickly starts ruining the game 😂

Strategy | 0? 10?? - “...Strategy? You just stay out of sight and kill 'em all, right?” (immediately scolded by Gabe for word choice 🙄) They really do mainly stay out of sight and pick people off with max stealth, like 😆 they'd be such a terror, people would need to take them out early for anyone else to stand a chance! They spend a lot of the game staking out the most frequented paths in the area and taking out groups quickly, all at once. Then they'll get around to stalking and picking people off one by one. The real fun...

Winner type | Stoic. Likes winning combat but the stakes were non-existent, so... the win is meaningless! this just infuriates the losers more 😅 such disrespect

Loser type | Sucks their teeth and tosses their paintball gun to the ground. "Y'all suck." (they're over it five mins later tho lol)

Jack

Shooting | 3 - This is nothing like shooting light guns... ☹️

Stealth | 5 - Not just due to his size making him an easier target, but homeboy is liable to get distracted by a cute squirrel or some pretty flowers 😂 He's not great at keeping his voice down either so good conversation would make him easy to seek out. He's just out here enjoying a beautiful day 😅

Strategy | 7 - All that movie-watching (and DMing) make him a valuable creative mind for problem-solving, but he needs a cooperative team to be effective. Rescued and recruited by Rupan/Rohan early on in the game ^ ^

Winner type | Disbelief! And everyone’s content and satisfied with him winning. Except Vivian/Vincent, that jealous fool

Loser type | Doesn't mind losing at all! He just hopes he was a good teammate and was glad to have fun ☺️

Jessie

Shooting | 7 - Comes from a family of hunters, girly knows how to shoot.

Stealth | 6 - Familiar enough with woods and stalking prey to be capable of sneaking around. Having too much fun to not giggle and get overly invested in the developing plot of the game. Even more easily distracted by critters and flora than Jack 😅

Strategy | 5 - Oh, she's just here to have fun. She'll go with whatever the person she's teaming up with decides, but can adapt easily enough.

Winner type | Surprised... then elated! Bouncing and happy and it's completely contagious. No hard feelings about a single thing. Convinces Heidi to invite people to the Emerson Estate—it's a hot day and they have a nice pool

Loser type | Same as Jack! Congratulates the winner with a hug because she's sweet like that 🧁

Rain

Shooting | 2 - This... thing is so cumbersome. And ugly. At least it shoots pretty colors.

Stealth | 7 - Small and used to sneaking around different environments and seeking out hiding spots. Their height and frame makes them harder to spot too.

Strategy | 4 - Hide!!! They’re not getting assaulted with paint and pellets!! Especially not after managing to make this ugly jumpsuit look cute?? Waiting it out is perfectly legitimate. Might share snacks if you decide to join them in hiding 😆

Winner type | Falls asleep in an unexpectedly cozy hiding spot and emerges as everyone thought they’d declared the winner. I imagine R and others yelling at them to get their gun while the original winner scrambles to get theirs, just for Rain to win by pure luck of the draw. Won’t stop them bragging about it, though! (I want this spurned runner-up to be Vi bc ofc)

Loser type | "So I can stop holding this thing?" Yawn. "I'm so hungry and bored, we've been at this for hours..."

Rupan/Rohan

Shooting | 4 - Ah, shit. These don't shoot anything like light guns.

Stealth | 7 - They sneak out and around town a lot 😂 They just force themself to be careful about how loud grass and bushes are.

Strategy | 7 - They’re treating this shit like an action movie and banding together a ragtag team of misfits to take down the strongest alliances and players. Savvy enough to reject Gabe’s and Curt’s offers to join, not opposed to strategic backstabs. They're very clearly just as focused on having fun as they are on winning—and playing Predator, which honestly works with Kile runnin around. They even brought war paint and borrowed a tactical vest. Is it mostly packed with snacks and weed? Maybe. Does it prove useful for negotiations? Hell yeah.

Winner type | Raucous celebration, just pure joy and adrenaline ☺️ Celebrates with their team, brags a bit, rubs it into Vi's face, makes fun of Curt, the usual. Then invites allies out to get pizza because it's the obvious next step

Loser type | Mostly disappointed they can't keep playing. They're a little sore about being left out of the action, but soon just start chatting with other marked players about how the game went for them. Plenty entertaining on its own, they want all the details

Vivian/Vincent

Shooting | 5 - They've got a little bit of shooting experience.

Stealth | 4 - They're overly sensitive and hate being in nature. Their skin is sticky, they keep feeling bugs everywhere, they've gotten dirt all over their pants, it's so hot, they keep WALKING into SPIDERWEBS, [flails about, screaming furiously]

Strategy | 8 - They have good ideas, they're just difficult to execute alone, especially since they're getting sunburnt and getting crankier and can't stop swatting at insects 😅 they're one of the first people to figure out that someone's taking out groups from the trees, so they stay solo and try to find a single person to team up with. Really what they need is someone who's a better shot but easy to boss around. They can probably just owe them for an in-school favor...

Winner type | Barely suppressed gloating. Vi somehow finds a way to be an obnoxious winner almost entirely by the look on their face. Once they're in a smaller group, they're passionately discussing the details of the game and happily boasting about their triumphs (while glossing over all of the whining and and slip-ups lol)

Loser type | Booo, such a sore loser. (Especially in the scenario where Rain wins 🤣) If they're outsmarted or outgunned in a clear, transparent way they'll growl and stomp off, then quietly glower and sulk for way too long. If they're double-crossed or beaten in an underhanded way oh lord —they're fighting it to the end. R can't help but get involved either way, reminding them it was a damn game with literally no prize. "C'mon, Vi, chill. You want ice cream? Let's get you ice cream."

Heidi

Shooting | 6 - Some shooting experience.

Stealth | 8 - She's very aware of her surroundings and her body. Perceptive yet quiet. Tactical. All residual traits picked up from her many activities over the years.

Strategy | 9 - Most likely to outsmart everyone. The first one to figure out groups are being targeted from the trees. Goes it alone and only open to trading (unless she sees Curt with Jess in which case she puts a quick pin in her plans to rescue her 😂). She also immediately figures out it's Kile, because ofc it is. Keeps close tabs on what groups are doing, knowing that eventually Kile will come down to ground level to pick off individuals and couples. Predator becomes prey 👀

Winner type | Proud but not boasting. She doesn't need to be. Victory looks good on her, natural and fitting. Thanks everyone for a good game then takes the girls for a long ride in the Cadillac 😎 top down on a bright day, baby

Loser type | Damn. She should have won this. Maybe if she'd... She probably could have... Then she snaps out of it, roped in by the celebratory mood of congratulating the winner. She's over any feelings of frustration or regret after getting to discuss the match with the person that took her out/the winner and there's no hard feelings. If anything this was fun as hell, it should be an annual thing. ☺️

Curt

Shooting | 8 - Some shooting experience and a natural knack for it. Good reflexes.

Stealth | 8 - Curt likes to say he gets along with the woods around these parts. Sneaking around is second nature to him. Really good hearing too. He's an easy target if you manage to seduce him though, having no issue leaving himself vulnerable if it means that kind of fun 😂

Strategy | 7 - Honestly, he's most interested in seeing how long he can get away with using charm and seduction for both protection and double-crossing 😂 Eventually becomes persona non grata and gets all of his ammo stolen by a vengeful mark, barely getting away in the process. Since that jig is up, he finally starts thinking a win might be nice... and so he teams up with the only competent player who would never betray him and also inspires the least vitriol in others: Jessie. What? Is his back-up plan using her as a human shield? No! 😚 Of course not! 👉👈

Winner type | Insufferable and gloating. Rubs it in a lot of people's faces, specifically Heidi, Rupan/Rohan, and any participants who genuinely don't like him. Brags to Gabe (who is completely disinterested in gassing him up 😂), then promises he'll make things up to Jessie (who didn't mind and had fun lol). Then celebrates by asking whoever he's flirting with these days for a quick date—and a ride in the Ferrari. Makes a scene pulling out of the parking lot. Ass.

Loser type | Doesn't care one bit as long as he had fun! And he always finds a way to have fun, it's why he's so carefree 😅

[stitch1830]

Pillow Talks

Going to continue rowing the Kantoph canoe here, don't mind me ;)

......

Toph Beifong was a late riser, but even she was bested by the man that lay beside her. She found Kanto snuggled up behind her, his arm wrapped around her waist. Normally, she was perfectly content with the current scenario, but something was off this morning…

Without hesitation or further thought, Toph tugged at Kanto’s arm and said, “You’re wearing pants.”

Kanto stirred in his sleep, slowly waking up from the intrusion. “Hmm?” Was his big response after a minute of silence.

“You’re wearing pants,” she repeated.

“You’re wearing pants,” he retorted in a mumble.

“Why are you wearing pants?”

“Why are you—”

“—Oh, just answer the question, will you, Hotshot?”

The man chuckled into her hair, tickling her neck. Kanto tightened his grip around her waist and replied, “Because you didn’t tell me to take them off.”

“Why does that matter?” she demanded. “You don’t wear pants when we sleep.”

Kanto laughed fully this time, finally finding the energy to sit up and start silly banter with Toph. “And how would you know what I wear when I sleep? I’ve only been staying the night for like, two weeks now.”

“Because every time you sleep over you’re not wearing pants in bed,” she countered.

“Gee, I wonder why…”

He earned a sharp jab to the ribs for that comment, and in return he playfully trapped Toph and tickled her sides until she was in fits and could barely breathe from laughing too much.

When she finally conceded, and as they lay on the bed catching their breath, a random realization hit her.

Her hands found their way to the stubble on Kanto’s cheeks. She grew curious, but she remained silent as her fingers lightly tickled him.

“What?” he asked, sensing that there was more on her mind than she let on.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly. It wasn’t something she normally asked for, mainly because someone else always brought it up, and it made her want to be guarded, yet vulnerable at the same time. But then, she relaxed a bit, and opened up to Kanto. “It’s just that… I don’t think I’ve ever traced your face, or looked at you.”

Kanto hummed in thought, then said, “I thought you did, but go for it.”

“Huh?”

“You can look at me if you’d like,” he repeated. “You were bound to find out how handsome I was at some point,” he teased.

Toph laughed as she shoved his face away from her, but Kanto just bounced back and held Toph’s hand to his face before she could remove it.

“No seriously,” he whispered, rubbing his thumb across her wrist. “If you want to see me, go ahead.”

She hesitated for a moment, but she didn’t know why. Toph wanted to know what he looked like, but it had been a while, months perhaps, since she last saw someone. That included her friends. Seeing a person’s features was never a big part of her life because there were never many people in her life that she cared about to really see. What would be the big deal if Kanto was another figure among millions?

Because it was Kanto.

After allowing her guard to drop once again, Toph flattened her fingertips on his face, moving them up toward his hairline. She used her index fingers as her primary line indicator, moving them around and along the outside of his face and head to capture the shape.

A strong jawline and chin, that she remembered.

Her hands returned to his forehead feeling the miniscule wrinkles that appeared when he teasingly raised his eyebrows. Toph breathed out a laugh, then found the bridge of his nose and his eyes. She gently traced her thumbs over his eyelids, taking in the almond shape of them as best she could and finding where his cheekbones began.

But before she found his familiar cheeks, she returned to his nose. Somewhat long and spirits, crooked.

He always did get into random fights…

She smiled though, because his crooked nose was perfect to her. Easy to see.

Toph then followed the lines his cheeks made all the way to his ears. They were proportional to the rest of his head, his ears, that was. She took in their shape and jokingly tugged at his ear lobes. Kanto made a funny noise that got a giggle out of her.

Immediately after, she went back to his cheeks, feeling the softness of his skin and the prick of his stubble. It was something she could get used to, and she memorized the feeling as she held his face in her hands and rubbed his cheeks with her thumbs.

All that was left was his mouth.

Her hands hovered for a moment by his lips, but then she felt his upper lip, where it dipped at the center and where the corners of his mouth were. She followed the line to find his lower lip, and when her fingers stilled for a moment, Kanto kissed them. Toph laughed and protested at the interruption, to which Kanto just grinned at.

Toph swiftly moved her fingers to find his grin and all its crookedness. She felt the dimples that his smile made, and took in the shape of how he grinned, the left corner turning up and higher than the right.

Spirits, she already loved his smile, and this was the first time she really saw it. Toph always heard it in his voice and felt it in his heart rate when he smiled, but to know what shape his smile took was something special.

Kanto took Toph’s stillness as a sign that she was finished looking, so he broke the silence by saying, “Pretty handsome, no?”

Toph grinned mischievously. “Psh, in your dreams, Hotshot.”

“What?” he playfully gasped. “You saw my grin! Only a hunk could smile like that.”

“Oh, you mean your crooked grin, you dork?” she laughed, pinching his cheeks. “Yeah, let’s just say I’m glad I don’t have to see that everyday,” she fibbed.

“You don’t mean that, most ladies fall for my show stopping grin.”

“Too bad I’m not like most ladies, Hotshot.” Her hands found his unruly hair and began to comb through it mindlessly.

Kanto paused in his retort, because spirits, she was right. She wasn’t like most women.

She was better.

He pushed stray strands of hair from her face, and sat there wondering how many saw Toph Beifong’s guard down like he did just now.

Because he felt like he was the only one who ever saw her this way.

The urge to spill his entire heart out to this woman was powerful and frightening. He wanted to confess his fears, hopes and dreams to her, to talk about the future that he conjured up for them, to tell her that he thought she was the most amazing woman in the entire world. And deep in a crevice of a long forgotten piece of his heart, he wanted to confess the biggest secret he’d been harboring for well over two weeks now: that he was absolutely, helplessly, and completely in love with her.

But he didn’t. Not today. Such a topic was much too deep and serious a conversation for pillow talk, especially when it first began about pants.

Instead, he hovered over her and kissed her. Kanto pressed his forehead against hers, and quietly remarked, “No, you are not like most ladies, Chief.

“But I like it that way.”

The playful smirk on Toph’s face made him wonder if he should be nervous or excited for such an expression. But then she pulled his head down toward her and whispered in his ear, “Take off your pants, Hotshot.”

Excited was his answer.

Kanto returned the smirk and kissed the crook of her neck before travelling down the bed and responding to her order.

“Ladies first, Chief.”

[buckyownsmylife]

Albatross - Tom Hardy smut

The one where your bond is revealed when you become of age and present, but your mate is your father’s best friend.

Warnings: smut, p in v, oral sex (f) a/b/o dynamics, age difference, dirty talk, curse words

A/N: Here it is, folks! One of my favorite fics that I had planned for this kinktober. I love this concept so much that I think I might create a second version of it someday. For now, let me remind you that the prompts were a/b/o dynamics and age difference, but I made sure to keep the reader’s age open to interpretation so no one would feel uncomfortable. You can pretend that the presentation age in this universe is 18, 20, 21 or 25 - or whatever else! It’s really up to you.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I could feel that something was off from the second I woke up. Like the world that I’d woken up to wasn’t the same I’d left the night before. Like suddenly, everything had turned in their axis and I was left scrambling around to understand the change.

Still, I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Call it a gut feeling. As a pack’s Alpha, I knew it was wise to trust mine. But without any clear evidence of something being out of place, all it left me with was this paranoid feeling of uncertainty.

That was, until news broke out of my Beta’s house, also known as my best friend.

“Y/N’s presenting,” he told me, a pained look on his face that I could perfectly understand. It shouldn’t be easy to lose an offspring, to see them grow up and become ready for the taking, but it was part of life, at least for us.

“What’s her status?” I asked, nodding patiently at him as I placed a firm hand over his shoulder, wanting to calm him down. He hesitated for a bit before answering.

“Omega.” I understood his hesitancy. Unmated omegas had a hard time even in packs, especially during heats, since Alphas couldn’t really control their instincts around them. At least, they needed that same connection, which could make the situation more acceptable, as it constituted at least some sort of consensual bond, but the fact of the matter was that omegas needed alphas to get through their heats, or they’d die, and a decision made in need wasn’t much of an actual decision in any sense.

Still, I was their Alpha and I knew I had to calm them down, so I did just so, the only way I could think of.

“I’m sure that when she gets over these first few days of fever, she’ll find her mate, Chris. Try not to worry too much about it. We have a lot of good, strong, eligible alphas in the pack, certainly one of them is her mate.” Of course, one of those alphas was me, but the possibility didn’t even cross my mind. She had just reached maturity, I was over forty and I’d seen her grow up. I was there the day she was born, I’d have noted if we had that sort of... special connection.

Of course, rationally, I knew it was possible. The truth was that the bond only made itself known after both parts present, but I still found it impossible to consider that a girl I had cradled in my arms right after her birth would be my mate. 

My friend nodded, thanking me for the support, and I watched him and his wife try to get through the day before they had to go back home and take care of their daughter. I commended myself for a job well done, hoping that now that the surprise had been clarified, that anxious feeling would disappear.

It didn’t. I could barely sleep that night, my senses in overdrive as I moved around in bed. It was like my body thought there was an upcoming battle and it was trying to prepare itself to deal with it. My heart was beating at a level that pumped the adrenaline coursing through my veins even faster, and by the time the sun rose up in the horizon, I had maybe taken a couple of naps. Actual rest had been absolutely impossible.

Still, until the danger that my instincts were catching onto actually appeared, there wasn’t much that I could do. There was, however, a lot that I had to do as pack leader, and so I tried to get on with my day as if nothing was wrong. I couldn’t very well leave my members worried over something that I didn’t even know what it was. So after I ate some breakfast, I left my cabin to get on with my day, starting of course with a visit to my best friend’s house. As my Beta, he would know what I should prioritize that day. 

Also, I figured it was the polite thing to do, check on Y/N and see if she was feeling better after her presentation. She was a part of my pack, after all. What I wasn’t expecting, however, was for her family to be gathered in the main hall, along with several other members, and that the moment I went through those doors, the only thing I could see was her. 

The smell of oranges and basil hit my nose, inebriating my senses, and I had to hold onto the threshold of the cabin’s door to steady myself. Of course, the lack of balance and the crackling noise the wood made as I broke some of the structure I was holding onto caught everyone’s attention, but no one seemed to understand what was going on with me.

Until Y/N whimpered, her eyes connected with mine as she visibly trembled where she stood. The second that sound escaped her lips I knew everyone had caught on to what was happening, especially her father. But at that very instant I lost every amount of self-control I had managed to gather through my years as a leader and I couldn’t care less about what Chris or anyone else was thinking. All I knew was there was my mate, she was still unmarked, and there were far too many alphas surrounding her.

I made my way over to her so fast I was almost sure I had jumped or ran. In the back of my mind I noticed that people stepped aside to let me make my way to her, but I was too far gone to actually process the information. All that mattered was her. I needed to get her out of here, and soon.

The closer I got to her, the stronger was her scent. I was growling by the time I pulled her to me and threw her over my shoulder. It was an animalistic gesture of ownership, but it was all my mind could come up with at that moment. I just needed to get her out of there. 

It was then that a particular smell hit my nose. Alpha. Turning around, I recognized her father through the haze I was currently under. It seemed like he was trying to calm me down, I could see from his lips’ motions that he was saying my name, but I couldn’t care less what he had to say to me at that moment. He was stopping me from claiming my mate. He was a threat to my bonding and I couldn’t have that.

The second I bared my teeth to him, however, he seemed to understand that there was no talking me out of what was happening. 

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I don’t know if it was Tom’s threat or my pained whimper that stopped my father from interfering, but I was glad to see his retreating form, mainly because it meant that I was one step closer to leaving this room and the god awful smells of random alphas that surrounded me.

It was so putrid that it burned, hurting my insides and making me hold my stomach in an effort to calm down the cramps that were threatening to kill me. A whimpered pain escaped my lips and suddenly Tom’s hands were around me, howling me up and throwing me over one of his shoulders.

The second his hands touched my sweaty skin, I let out a breathy sigh of relief, the close proximity to my Alpha instantly sufficing to calm me down, at least for now. I knew that for me to actually feel okay again, we’d have to complete the bonding.

A shiver went down my spine as the reality of my situation broke a bit of the fever I was currently under. I was about to be claimed by my Alpha, who also happened to be the pack’s Alpha. 

Not only that, but I was about to have sex for the first time, and with my father’s best friend, someone I’d known since I was a kid. Someone I used to consider sort of an uncle. At least that awkwardness from my part had disappeared as I approached my teenage years and started to realize just how attractive Tom was. It was no secret that the unmated Alpha was desired by many women - and some men - in the pack, including the teenage girls who’d follow him around with a love sick expression as soon as their hormones kicked in.

The only thing that stopped me from being one of those girls was the embarrassment over the fact that he was a constant presence on our family meals, always teasing me and making me laugh.

That was what I was thinking about when the world turned to its rightful place, Tom having gently lowered me to my feet again. Before I could even rationalize that I should probably snap out of it and fake a smile, his finger was under my chin, tipping my head up to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” A resigned sigh escaped my lips, knowing I would never be able to hide anything from him, not when he was my true mate and my Alpha. I guess I’d have to get used to this.

“It’s just… This is a bit weird, isn’t it?” I managed to explain, my heart pounding as I feared some sort of resentment or anger from him. Besides, I was also still wrestling with the overwhelming mix of emotions and hormones that tried to take over my body, wanting to make sure I’d never leave this cabin unmated.

But that wasn’t Tom. Even if he was scary from afar, and downright threatening and aggressive when needed, he was also gentle and caring towards his pack members, especially when they were vulnerable.

That was definitely my case now. Also, I was his mate - I had to keep reminding myself of that, it still didn’t feel real - and it was ludicrous of me to even consider that he would ever treat me as anything less than a princess. Even before, he’d always reserved that sort of treatment for me, his “little girl”, as he’d often call me.

So he mirrored my sigh, his arm reaching out to hold my hand in his, and I automatically gravitated closer to him, desperate to feel his warmth on my skin, to know that he was close to me. I knew it was biological, but it felt like something so much deeper. It felt like a calling from the soul.

“Yes, it is weird.” I don’t know why, but the second those words left his lips, I felt the tenseness from my body disappear, my muscles relaxing as he held me close to his chest in a very welcomed hug. Something about knowing that he felt the same way as I did calmed me down, made me feel like this was okay, somehow.

Neither of us knew what was going to happen, but we were going to find out together. We had each other now, and hopefully, forever.

Then, a new wave of cramps hit me, making me double over and startling Tom, who released me so I could hold my stomach, but then tried to reach out to me in whatever way he could find, desperate to know what was going on.

“The cramps…” I explained as best as I could, grabbing onto the front of his shirt in an effort to hold myself up. “... They’re starting again.” Once again, Tom’s strong hands were there to rescue me, and soon he had hoisted me up in a bridal position so he could carry me up the stairs, where his bedroom was located.

Tom’s P.O.V.

“Shhh… You’re gonna be okay, princess. You’re gonna get through this.” God, there wasn’t even a bond between us and I was already feeling her pain. I desperately wanted to help her, make it go away. I could feel the need to protect deep in my bones, trying to once again snap my control, but although I knew what was the only thing that could help her, I still needed her to be okay with this first.

“Tom… Tom, please, help me.” I pushed strands of her hair away from her sweaty face, and she whimpered underneath me, sweat already starting to make her skin glisten underneath my fingertips. I ached to lick it, taste her on the tip of my tongue, but I didn’t feel like I could do it. Not yet.

“Tell me what you need,” I pressed, cradling her face between my palms. “Tell me how I can help.”

“You,” she breathed out, and I could see the desperation in her beautiful eyes. It hurt my chest, and once again the Alpha inside of me tried to claw its way to the front of my brain. “I need you to kiss me. Please, kiss me.”

She really didn’t have to say twice. I was dying to taste her lips since I saw her that morning. So I leaned over her, bringing her to meet me halfway by my grip on her jaw, and the second that our lips touched, I was a goner.

So soft, she was just so soft. Her mouth danced with mine and it felt like velvet against my chapped lips and the way she moaned when I licked on her bottom lip, prying it open, made a deep, possessive growl escape from deep within my chest.

“You smell so good.” I barely recognized my own voice as it came raspier than usual when I forced ourselves to separate so she could catch her breath. I’d happily suffocate if it meant I could keep on kissing her, but it was my job to make sure she would be okay.

I rubbed my nose over her shoulder, looking for the scent gland on her neck and nuzzling it upon my discovery. God, even if I wasn’t on my rut yet, this felt overwhelming, in the best possible way. But I could feel the need to mate rising from within me, and I couldn’t let it take over yet.

It didn’t seem like Y/N was all that opposed to my carnal needs, however, if the way she climbed on my lap to pull me back to her lips by the back of my neck was anything to go by. I still had it in me to chuckle against her mouth, amused by her eagerness, but that was only before she started to rub herself against me, whimpering desperately as she clawed at my shirt.

“Hot… It’s so hot in here. I need to -” I was still so dumbfounded over her last actions that it didn’t strike me what she was about to do until her dress was already on the floor, and I was staring at the practically naked young woman on my lap.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Heat, it was all I felt besides the overwhelming emptiness that made my pussy clench sporadically around nothing. By that point, I couldn’t think of anything else. The pain had been replaced by this burning desire for the man in front of me, but it was burning so brightly that it was threatening to start hurting me, too.

“Knot…” I managed to say, despite my usual embarrassment to say that word, or the next phrase that so easily fell from my lips. “I need your knot.” Tom suddenly tightened his grip on my waist, and I whimpered from the pressure, but also relished in it. I knew there’d be marks, and just the thought of them made the wetness that was already gathering in my pussy start to drip onto my panties.

“Fuck, I can fuckin’ smell you, princess. You’re fucking dripping for me, aren’t you?” I could only whine in response. Tom took me off his waist, but before I could complain, he laid me down on his bed, crawling over me. “I need to prepare you, little one. I know it’s your first time, and even if you’re in heat right now and I’m your mate, I don’t want you suffering, okay?”

Whereas normally I would have melted at his preoccupation, the idea of his preparation only registered in my brain as a delay from my goal, that was to be filled with his cock, so I wailed while he worked on taking off my bra. 

“Why is this so fucking hard?” He complained, the strap escaping from his fingers as he couldn’t seem to have the patience to actually do it properly. “Fuck this shit.” A gasp resonated around the room as he ripped the lace tissue from my chest, but then he was growling and latching himself on one of my nipples, licking and sucking and it made the burn between my legs worsen.

“Please, Alpha, please!” I don’t think he would have been able to separate himself from my breasts if I hadn’t called his presentation. Since it was the first time he was hearing it, though, his head whipped up, and he looked directly at me, seemingly astounded by that simple word.

“Please…” I whispered again, and that snapped him out of his reverie, making him deposit wet kisses all over my stomach as I thrashed around the bed, trying to force him down faster. 

“I’ll take care of you, omega.” My panties, the last piece of clothing left on me, met the same fate as my bra, and then I was naked, spread open for Tom’s eyes to explore me. He licked his lips hungrily, noting, “You’re soaked already,” right as he lowered himself to deposit a kiss over my navel.

“J-just one of the reasons w-why y-you don’t have to do this,” I tried to reason with him, knowing that he had the best of intentions, but I needed his freaking knot sooner rather than later.

“Have to? I’m dying to taste your glistening little pussy. It’s calling out to me, angel.” That was the only warning I got before his mouth descended upon me, engulfing my whole pussy like it was nothing more than an open buffet for him to satiate his primal hunger.

Tom’s P.O.V.

I’d never tasted anything like her pussy before. Immediately, I knew that I’d be spending a lot of my following evenings with my head between her gorgeous legs, licking away at her little clit, and fucking her hole with my tongue.

“You taste like fucking candy,” I growled against her cunt, appreciating the downright filthy sounds that my slurping was creating against her wetness. Pushing my tongue as far as it could reach inside of her hole, I noticed how it pulsed against me, and I couldn’t wait to feel it around my cock.

But first… “I have to prepare you,” I said it out loud, to remind both her and me that nothing else was happening before I could get through this task. Normally, I wouldn’t consider it a hazard at all, I loved making a woman cry out with pleasure underneath me - and this was my mate, not just any woman - but I knew she needed to have me inside of her soon, and quite frankly, I didn’t know how much longer I could hold myself back either.

I pushed one finger inside of her as I continued to suck on her clit, immediately pushing another as she was already really wet and her pussy stretched easily to welcome any sort of thickness inside of it, since she was on her heat. Pretty soon I was able to put a third one, and I pulled away from her pussy just enough to watch my digits going in and out of her.

“Now, that’s fucking hot.” Her thighs trembled on each side of me and her moans became more high-pitched, and I understood that she was about to cum, so I lowered myself to lick her again and that was when she tumbled over the edge, crying out my name and my presentation consecutively, her legs wrapping themselves around my head to keep me where I was.

As soon as the waves crashed down and I was able to detach myself from her, though, it became clear that it hadn’t been enough. She needed me, and now I felt like I could finally give what she needed to her.

“You ready, princess?” I made sure of it as I rushed to open my jeans and get my cock out, groaning as the feeling of my fist around it was enough to make it throb. It’d been hard and ready and pulsing ever since I saw my mate.

“Yes, please, please, Alpha!” With another animalistic growl, I slowly pushed myself inside of her, only stopping when I bottomed out. I wanted to wait until she was ready, I knew she’d be much more receptive to the penetration thanks to her state, but I guessed it would still feel uncomfortable on some level.

Apparently, I was wrong.

“Fuck me, please, Tom, MOVE!” At that last request, I fully let myself go, allowing the Alpha to take over and claim his mate like he needed it to. I slipped out of her before easily manhandling her on her stomach, barking at her to present for her Alpha, and the second her pretty little pussy was thrusted up against me again, I pushed in and started pounding her.

“Fuck, little one, look at you… Taking your first cock so well. Your mate’s cock, angel. You won’t ever get to know how another feels like, will you? Because you’re mine. I’ve waited so long for a mate, for you, and you’re here now. You’re all mine, ‘mega.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I cried out both at his words and at the pressure I felt as his cock’s head speared against my cervix. It hurt, but it hurt so good, there were literal tears falling from my eyes on the mattress underneath me.

“Yours, I’m all yours,” I managed to gasp, and it spurred him on. I couldn’t even identify when he thrusted out of me, I felt so full and the emptiness was fulfilled and all I wanted was to keep this high forever.

“Tell me that again,” he ordered, making me whine as his hips kept pounding against my ass, the slaps echoing around the room.

“I’m yours, Alpha. Please, don’t stop!”

“‘m not gonna stop, I’m never gonna stop fucking you.” With a howl, I felt his knot pop open inside of me, prompting my release just as he pulled me up to carve his teeth on my neck. He kept slowly grinding against me, like he couldn’t get enough, and it made me laugh but also moan in satisfaction as he started to lick over his mark on my skin.

“Mine,” he whispered afterwards, when he managed to adjust us so we were both spooning on his bed, his knot still keeping us connected and bringing me a comfortable feeling of belonging I’d never felt before.

“Yours,” I repeated, caressing the hand with which he groped one of my breasts. “All yours, Alpha. You’re not alone anymore.”

[alittlewhump]

Unbidden - Act 3, chapter 7

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Content warnings: None

Blaise walked in on Morgan after the worst of it had passed, but before he was ready to open his eyes or move. He groaned a protest as she checked his pulse. Her fingers felt hot against his skin. She was repeating his name, he realized.

"Morgan. Morgan. Come on, say something if you're all right."

He tried. His mouth made a couple of syllables but they were incoherent and nearly formless, not the words he'd been aiming for. He took a deeper breath and tried again, producing something not entirely unlike "all right". Close enough.

"What the fuck, Morgan?" Her tone of voice was hard to identify. He forced his eyes open a little. Her tone of face was also hard to identify. Partly relieved, partly annoyed, partly something else. "What the hell are you doing out here? Why didn't you let me know where you were? What are -" There was a clinking as she picked up the bottles. "Are you getting high? Tell me you have a better explanation than that," she said, disgust colouring her voice.

Morgan took another deep breath and pushed himself up into a seated position. He lurched sideways - the golem hadn't responded to his command properly. Wait, no, he hadn't commanded it properly. It was a golem, after all; moving them was not the same as moving his body. That was going to take some getting used to.

"You're going to have to start talking soon. I know it's not easy here, gods know I hate this fucking jungle and everything in it, but this is not an acceptable way to deal-"

"I'm not..." He winced. The pounding of his head intensified when he spoke. He tried to keep his voice low. "... doing that."

"You know I'd love to believe you, but the evidence is all pointing to you doing exactly that. Akarat's beard, Devak is useless after just one of these things and you're half his size. Why the fuck are you alone out here getting knocked off your ass on Alkor's concoctions? No, wait, let me guess - is it for the Balance?" Morgan closed his eyes. The revulsion in Blaise's voice was punishment enough; he wished she didn't have to be shouting, too.

"Yes, actually." As the words exited his mouth, it occurred to him that it was probably not the wisest choice of responses. At least it bought him a few precious moments of silence to gather his thoughts. Blaise was gaping at him open-mouthed when he risked looking at her again.

"You have ten seconds to explain yourself before I fucking lose it," she finally snarled.

"I came out here alone because I needed to focus. I took those potions because I needed the power."

"For what, exactly?"

"To fix this." The golem arm lifted on command this time.

"Fix what?"

Oh, she thought he was gesturing with that arm. His sleeve had fallen down to cover it. He pushed the fabric back up with his other hand, revealing the improved limb. The flesh was smoother than it had been, the valleys of its many scars filled in with new tissue. It was not quite the same colour as the rest of his body, strangely ashen now. It was pleasing to see it was no longer blackened as it had been. Possibly a side effect of integrating such a comparatively large item.

"This arm. It's a golem now."

"What? Really? You can do that? Holy-" She started to reach out, then stopped herself. "Hang on. Is that what Ormus got so upset with you about?"

Morgan wouldn't have characterized it as upset, exactly. The mage had expressed his reservations at length, though, and with some volume at times. He'd just wanted to draw upon the other man's experience, which apparently had included being an observer to some unfortunate experimentation with carnomancy. It had been an informative lecture.

"I considered his concerns." He could tell by the twist of her mouth that he'd chosen the wrong thing to say. "The benefits outweighed the risks," he explained. It didn't seem to help.

"Outweighed - how?" Morgan grimaced as the pitch and volume of her voice rose, stabbing a spike of pain behind his eyes. That particular turn of phrase only had one meaning. So she wanted more explanation, but clearly she didn't want to listen to it at the moment.

"Why are you so angry," he said quietly, pressing his hand to his eyes. Maybe if he just kept his voice low, she would follow suit. "I'm just trying to -"

"Why am - this is dangerous, Morgan!" She had not followed suit. She was just getting louder. "Out here, on your own, fucking - experimenting on yourself. You don't even have a sentry to keep watch. Did you forget about the jungle full of things that want to kill us? You could have died out here!"

That hit him just the wrong way. His head was throbbing, every inch of him was uncomfortable, and he couldn't muster up the energy to figure out how he was supposed to respond. Not when anything he could say was going to be wrong. "What does it matter," he hissed instead.

"It matters because you're my friend, you asshole!"

That snapped his eyes open. "What?"

Blaise turned away, throwing her hands in the air. "You're being an ass! I'm not going to apologize for saying it, honestly there's a lot worse I could think of to call you right now. We have an important job to do, you can't just take a big risk like this without - don't make that face, I said I'm not apologizing."

The rudeness wasn't the part he was having difficulty with. She could be upset for a lot of reasons, they didn't always make sense to him. It was something else that had brought his thought processes grinding to an abrupt halt.

"... I'm your friend?"

"Don't try to change the subject, of course you are, why wouldn't... wait, really? Seriously? Of course seriously, you're always serious. You honestly... all right, so why do you think I'm here in this horrible jungle in the first place?"

"Because an angel told us to come here."

"All right, yeah, that's true. But why was I in that tomb with you when we met the angel?"

"Because Jerhyn agreed you should pursue Baal, to cut off the demonic attacks at their source." He pulled at the hem of his shirt. It was better than it had been earlier, but it was still a discomfort. This reiteration of past events wasn't answering any of the questions he suddenly found himself with, either. At least Blaise's anger seemed to be fading.

"That's also true, but it's not the whole - all right, this isn't working. Look, of course we're friends. We've been friends ever since you buried - reburied - our old commander, at the Sisterhood." Morgan watched in confusion as she seated herself in front of him. It was possible she'd taken the portal lesson as a token of friendship, but... no, that didn't line up with the rest of the evidence.

"You said - after that, after Andariel - you said you didn't like me. Friends are people you like."

"Did I say that? I don't remember... but," she continued quickly, "there's a lot I don't remember. Sometimes I say things I don't really mean. Especially if I'm upset. I just say whatever pops into my mind, and it isn't always true."

"You also hit me several times."

Blaise grimaced. "I did, didn't I? But I apologized for it, I remember that much. I'm - do you really - all this time we've been travelling together, do you still think we aren't friends? That nothing changed? That I don't even like you? Even after everything that happened in the desert?"

"You're a good person," Morgan reminded her. "And you can be kind to someone even if you don't like them. I... yes, I assumed nothing had changed." He kept tugging at the rough threads of his shirt. "You never said anything to the contrary," he added. Between the confusion and the discomfort, he almost wished he could crawl right out of his skin like a moulting lizard.

"You idiot. Look at me." He did, nervously. She was looking into his eyes, eyebrows slightly raised, intense in her focus. No longer visibly angry, which was a positive. "Listen, I really mean this. You're my friend, Morgan. I like you, I like having you around. I think you're a good person too. I care about you, I care about what happens to you, and that's why I'm upset right now. I thought you were dead for a minute there. I know it's somehow not a big deal for you, but I care if you live or die. So talk to me next time before you do something big like this, all right?"

He had no idea how to respond. All he had were questions, mainly why? Why in all of creation would someone like her decide to choose him as a friend? Friends were supposed to be equals, in his understanding, and he was so much less than her in every measurable way. It didn't make any sense. But he would have to grapple his way through that baffling puzzle later. Right now she was looking expectantly at him, waiting for an answer.

"All right," he said. "I'll try."

"You'd better," Blaise said, holding his gaze for a long second. "Now what made you decide to... go through with this? I don't understand a whole lot of what Ormus says on a good day, but he seemed to think it was a really bad idea. And I know your arm was in rough shape, but I thought you had that under control."

At least Morgan had an answer ready for that question. He'd debated it for long enough to reach a concise conclusion. "Andariel left me crippled. Duriel was quick to see that weakness, and we are searching for much stronger demons than him. When I found a way to lessen the damage, I thought it wisest to take it. I do not wish to face a Prime Evil with an obvious vulnerability."

"All right, that's fair enough. I get it. Now, enlighten me. What would have happened if this... process didn't work?"

He looked down at his hands. Why did she have to ask that? Based on the conversation they'd just had, she wasn't going to like the answer, no matter how he put it. "It did work," he tried, turning the golem back and forth in demonstration, flexing its fingers.

"That's not what I asked." There was an edge to Blaise's voice, and Morgan fought the urge to flinch away. "You said the benefits outweighed the risks. I want to know what the risks were."

"I was very careful. Even after I found the dagger, I spent days and days thinking about it before I tried anything."

"Stop dancing around the answer."

"None of the ways it could have gone wrong were very likely to happen. I planned for that."

"Likely or not, what would have happened?"

He sighed. He knew he'd never win this battle of wills with her. "Bodies are complicated systems. Any mistakes could have been fatal."

"Morgan-"

"I didn't realize it would upset you," he hastened to add. "I wasn't trying to make you angry. I just wanted to be stronger, to be able to help you. To help keep the Balance," he added. His priorities were a little confused, between his duty and Blaise and the angel's entreaty, but they all pointed in the same direction at the moment.

Blaise pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's really not what I - all right, ignoring the rest of the problems with that for now, you can't help anything by being dead."

"I'm not dead," he pointed out.

"And I want you to stay that way, understand?" He nodded. It wasn't something he could promise, and he still didn't really feel like he'd grasped why she would want that, but the fact of her wishes was clear enough. She seemed mollified for the moment, giving in to curiosity instead.

"Now tell me about this," she demanded, pointing at the golem. "Was it hard? It must have been hard. You hardly ever use potions. What does it feel like? Did it hurt? Can I touch it? Why did you mention a dagger earlier?"

He held it out for her to examine. "I had to use an enchanted item to fortify it. Like I do sometimes with the clay golems. It was a dagger. The process was more complicated than I expected. It took a lot of energy, and there are some things I still want to try. But the side effects of Alkor's potions are stronger than I'm used to, and I don't want to take any more of them. So I'll have to wait."

She lifted his wrist, running one hand up to his elbow. "That feels so weird," she breathed, but it didn't stop her from repeating the gesture. "It's not quite like regular skin. Can you feel this?"

"Sort of." He actually hadn't given much thought to input like touch. It was nice that it didn't hurt like it had before, and that was as far as he'd considered it. The ache at the connection point was almost ignorable, minor in comparison. He did feel something, but it was hard to tell if it was actually from the physical contact, or if it he just thought he felt it because he could see it happening.

He asked the golem to relay a sense of touch and regretted it instantly. It gave him too much, and not the way he'd hoped - not enough focus on the outside, but a very clear sense of the softly pulsating pressure on each of the individual tendrils buried in the living flesh. It also drew more power from him to accomplish that, which was another new and uncomfortable sensation. He shut his eyes and told it to stop.

Blaise pulled back. "Sorry, was that too much?"

Morgan shook his head. "It's not that, it's not you." He took a steadying breath. "I was just trying something. I should have waited." He squinted up at the specks of light filtering into the building through the thick jungle canopy. "The plan was to rest for another hour or two."

"I guess I blew that, huh?"

"Yes. But I'm glad you came. You don't have to wait with me," he added after a moment's thought.

"Nah, it's nice enough in here. Good spot." She leaned back, propping herself up on her elbows. "I'm glad you finally figured out how to take a break."

"What do you mean?" Of course he knew how to take a break. Everyone knew how to rest, it was a simple matter of not doing anything.

"I mean it's good that you're taking the time you need to recover now. You know, instead of pushing yourself until you can barely walk." She gave him a pointed look. "Like in the desert, when we were looking for the Horadric cube."

"Oh." He had run himself ragged for that. But it had been worth it in the end. It had been essential to get them as far as they were now. Which was, upon reflection, still trailing behind the Prime Evils. It was difficult to know just how far behind they were. Tyrael had told them to hurry, he recalled with a jolt. It was slow going through the cursed jungle. This endeavour had only cost a few hours, but the nagging tug of urgency was starting to pull again.

Morgan took stock of himself. He'd planned to recuperate, but how much did he really need to? The shaking had stopped, his heart rate had returned to normal. He was feeling more than a little drained, though, and his head still ached painfully. "I'm nearly rested enough to start moving," he offered. "There haven't been as many demons down along the river, we could-"

"Don't even fucking think about it," Blaise said cheerfully. "I take it back. When normal, sane people say they're rested, they mean they feel good and they're actually ready to go. When you say it, you just mean you don't think you'll collapse right away. Do you understand the difference there?"

"The difference is that I know my limits," Morgan replied. That was necessary for a priest of Rathma, the ability to gauge oneself accurately, to be able to do the maximum amount of work without walking unnecessarily into death's embrace.

"The difference is that you seem to think your limit is dying!"

"Of course. Don't you?"

"Well, obviously that's a limit for everyone, don't get sarcastic with me."

"I'm not."

Blaise stared at him for a second. "No," she agreed, "you're not. You just... you're missing the point."

"What is the point?"

"Well, you wouldn't ask me to go out hunting demons the next day after being-" She cut herself off abruptly, looking away. "Right after getting seriously injured," she finished, "would you?"

"Of course not."

"But you don't treat yourself the same way."

"No," he agreed. "That's different."

"It shouldn't be different. Why is it different?"

"My duty is more important than my comfort."

Blaise rolled her eyes. "Ugh, your duty. Is it more important than your life?"

"Yes."

"No, it isn't!"

"Of course it is. Long ago, Rathma created our order with the sacred charge to maintain the Balance of the Great Cycle of Being. If it slips too far to the Darkness, the Chaos, humanity suffers. If it slips too far to the Light, the Order, humanity stagnates. Humankind can only progress if the Balance is even. We dedicate our whole selves to keeping the Balance. A single life or death is nothing to the Cycle. Death comes to all living things. And if there comes a time when my death would serve better than my life, I will gladly choose death. That is our way."

Blaise was silent for a time. "You know," she said eventually, "the more I learn about your Order, the less I think I like it."

Despite himself, Morgan's heart sank. The Order was a central part of him as much as he was part of it. If she didn't like it, it logically followed that she didn't actually like him either. That must have been a misunderstanding on his part. He often had trouble with people's intentions. She really just liked having him around, as she'd said - he'd been making himself useful enough for that, at least. That was fine. It was better that way, really. More familiar, easier to understand.

"You're more than just a tool for the Balance, Morgan," Blaise continued. Your life has value on its own."

"No, I - we don't... that's for other people," he said, taken aback. That was not at all what he'd been expecting to come next. And it was wrong. A kind sentiment, to be sure, but still wrong.

"Why can't it be for you?"

It was Morgan's turn to think quietly for a while. The relentless pounding of his head was making it hard to concentrate. Of course there was a reason, but the words to explain it wouldn't present themselves. Priests of Rathma had to hold themselves to a different standard than other people. They were selected to do important work, and in doing so, they shed the conceit of personal importance in favour of the truth. They stepped outside the normal systems of value and worth, for it would be impossible to measure anything accurately from the inside of that sphere. It had to be that way. It was important. There was value in it, a different sort than the value Blaise thought she saw in him.

That was a large and unruly concept, one that threatened to overwhelm the emotional control he'd managed to rebuild. She saw value in him. Not for his work, just for his... self. How strange, how wrong, how tempting. How good that might feel, if he let it. To be worth something in someone else's eyes. A long-buried part of him wanted that, much more strongly than he would have guessed. That part warred with his sense of duty, his obligation to the Order.

He didn't need validation, didn't need to prove himself to anyone any more - he'd been deemed adequate to take on a task for the betterment of humanity, and that was enough. He didn't need friends. That was a want, not a need, and a want that should have been overcome long ago. Personal relationships weren't forbidden per se, but they were dangerous in that they could lead to an erosion of objectivity. But if he could be very, very careful, that hopeful part of him suggested, maybe he could manage it. Maybe he could earn this. The possibility left him feeling strangely, pleasantly light.

"Well?"

Morgan blinked hard to refocus himself. "I don't have an answer for you," he admitted. Strangely, Blaise seemed to be satisfied with that response.

"Well, keep thinking about it. We aren't going anywhere for a while. You just... rebuilt your whole arm. Fuck, that's amazing. Take your damn time recovering."

[starions]

Do SING and HAND, please. Both not exactly easy, I know...

( SING ) singing to mine.

Anya would frequently have nightmares as a child. She didn’t know why she was prone to them, but her young elf mind would always wander to night terrors during her meditation. An enormous white wolf, with piercing red eyes and saliva strings falling off its sharp fangs would haunt her nightly. The image would send her into hysterics, but her mother was always there to calm her down with a song.

“Lace your heart with mine

Let your sleeping soul take flight

Take me through the night

Down down down by the river

Down down down by the river”

She’d fall back into her trance to the sound of her mother’s voice, and would for years even into her late childhood. Her mother died a few years after she reached her elven adulthood, and although she hadn’t heard her mother’s voice since then, she still sang the song to herself. A way to self soothe, she supposed; a way to feel less alone when the world felt like it was closing in on her.

It had been a while since she had any sort of nightmare, but with the tadpole swimming in her brain, they seemed to come every time she closed her eyes. Not a wolf, though; a person beckoning her to give in--to relish in the power bestowed to her. Anya realized yet again how much she needed her mother; not only to sing her a song, but to tell her not to indulge in the power granted to her.

The last tadpole dream lit of fire of fear in her, so much so that she didn’t dare to close her eyes and slip into her meditation. She always thought it would be fun to bend the minds of those who made contact with her--but this was all becoming too much. Anya feared that by using the tadpole power too often, she’d become a slave to it.

So, while her companions were dead asleep in their tents away from the fire, Anya began to hum the melody of her mother’s song. Then, gradually, sing it so quietly it could barely be heard over the crackle of the fire.

“That’s a lovely song.”

Anya nearly jumped in her skin at the voice, and whipped her head around to Astarion, who was watching her as he leaned against a tree. His red eyes looked at her curiously, his head tilted slightly. This was the first time Astarion had seen that bitter facade of hers crack since they’d met a week previously.

“It’s not meant for your ears,” Anya said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ears and gazing back at the fire.

“How rude,” Astarion said, hand to his heart. “I don’t give compliments easily, you know.”

“And I didn’t ask for one in the first place,” Anya snapped back. The two mirrored a glare at each other for a moment before Anya broke the gaze. “These nightmares have me on edge.” 

Not an apology, but Astarion wasn’t expecting one anyway. Still, he peeled himself off from the tree and sat down next to the sun elf. When she didn’t object, he allowed his shoulders to relax. When they both stared at the fire in silence, Astarion glanced at her from the corner of her eye. She was hugging her knees, fingers toying with the new hole in the hole of her leather pants.

“Don’t stop on my account,” Astarion said suddenly.

“What?” Anya asked, snapping back to reality.

“You can keep singing.”

“Oh,” Anya said simply. Anya hugged herself tighter. She felt vulnerable like this, even though Astarion had no idea about her mother, what the song meant to her. Still, the song would ease the feeling on loneliness and fear in her heart. She’d give up her pride if it meant connecting with her mother for just a moment, just until the song ended.

Anya glanced at Astarion, whose piercing red eyes never left her, and stared again at the fire. Then, her lips parted, and she began to sing.

( HAND ) kissing mine’s hand. - under a cut because the last one got too long T_T

“So, you were a bard... before all this?”

Anya glanced from the blood spotted map of the Sword Coast. She was in the midst of deciding which route to take to avoid the gnolls in the Risen Road before she was rudely interrupted by pale elf from over her shoulder.

Anya frowned slightly before asking, “where did you hear that?”

“I overheard you tell Wyll over a few too many glasses of wine last night,” Astarion said. “Your tongue loosens easily, you know.”

Anya cursed her lightweightness and rolled the map in her hand up, putting it in her pack. “Do you eavesdrop on everyone’s conversations, or is it just mine?”

“Oh my dear,” Astarion said with a laugh. “Everyone's. But I’m more curious about you and your secrets. I can’t invision you as a bard, though. You aren’t very cheery.”

“I wasn’t a bard,” Anya said, motioning for the rest of the party to follow her on a hidden trail. “I sang in inns. There’s a difference.”

“And I suppose you learned your rogue tricks in between sets?” Astarion said playfully.

Anya would hardly call herself a rogue either--she was never taught by a master, she means. In truth, Anya was mainly self taught. After she fled Baldur’s Gate, she had to learn to steal without being seen, lockpick barn doors to find a place to sleep at night, things like that. When she got a job as a singer in an inn in Neverwinter, she was allowed to stay for free in return for the tips she’d make each night. She learned quickly that people were stingy, so she began to pickpocket to make sure she didn’t end up in the streets. And to buy the gold necklaces she saw in the shop windows.

“I could ask the same to you,” Anya said, “how did a vampire slave learn his tricks?”

“Cazador had me do much more than seduce nobles; what is a man to do when he finds his coin purse gone on the stroll home?”

Anya gazed up at him with a smile. “He asks for help? And finds you with open arms?”

“Precisely.” 

“Did that work every time? Some of them must forget about it and carry on...” Anya learned a lot as her time as an inn singer. Men liked to talk--about themselves really--and they liked a pretty girl goading them on. She would get someone talking at the inn, ask them questions about themselves with faux interest, and when they were in the midst of their storytelling she’d reach toward the coin purse dangling from the belt and--

Astarion caught her wrist right as her fingers brushed the fabric of the purse. He looked down at her, bringing her hand toward his mouth. “You must be stupid to think you can try that with me,” he purred, pressing a kiss to the palm of her hand. He parted his lips slightly, letting a fang prick her flesh.

Anya yanked her hand away with a scowl, inspecting her hand for blood. She was relieved to see he didn’t break skin. “You talk too much.”

[martvota]

Reading “The Ballad Of Songbirds And Snakes” by Suzanne Collins [1]

✴ The switch of perspectives, an utterly rotten setting, the return of various symbols, something about proper character crafting and should we even like Coriolanus Snow? ✴

The first thing I’ve noticed was that people worried Collins might try and give Snow a redemption arc or use the new book as an excuse for his latter actions but I wouldn’t fret – doing so would only invalidate the universe she has built, would make one of the most important characters inconsistent. No proper writer wants that.

If anything, the way I see it, the book is intended to give us more insight on the beginnings of the system and state we (along with Katniss and Peeta, and all the rest) already know. Which is somewhat fascinating, as all well-crafted universes are.

We are given some more information on the civil war/First Rebellion that has spawned the Treaty of Treason but it (mostly?) doesn’t come in form of a history class; it flows quite freely with the main character’s thoughts and other characters’ conversations. There is no excessive detail or raw facts. Instead, we are presented with broken memories and broken homes, traumas, political and economical outcomes – and none of it is impersonal. Susanne Collins has successfully portrayed a society that has just experienced war. The streets that remain ruined years after “peace” has been achieved, the fierce… nationalism, I’d say? Though Panem is technically one state. What I meant was the approach of Coriolanus’ grandmother, almost teary-eyed over Capitol’s completely false glory, extremely hostile while speaking about the Districts. The “us versus them” mentality, the extremely protective kind of patriotism (post-war patriotism, I’d say). The state is trying to lift itself up, the old money families are attempting to regain their riches, and they are choosing the most cruel tactics to achieve that. 

We got to know the situation in the Districts thanks to the previously published books – but this time we are taking a look at the Capitol at its least glorious (and if the Capitol hungers, then it’s easy to say the rest of the country is dying of starvation).

That being said, I think it is crucial to remember whose perspective we are adopting for the sake of the novel. In this case, it is young Snow’s so – a ruined upper class family’s heir, raised to believe that he deserves what is the best solely due to his surname. Yes, he is to become the cold-blooded tyrant and killer of millions. No past excuses those crimes, ever.

But we have to keep in mind his upbringing, his origin – he has never been taught to empathise, only pity or detest; he has never been taught to respect people from the Districts unless that brings him gain (and even then, such respect should be faked – think of his beginnings with Lucy Gray).

So of course he was not crafted for us to enjoy. In fact, painting him as an obviously likeable, misunderstood boy would make for a redemption arc or an excuse, wouldn’t it? Instead, we are given a young representative of an extremely corrupt system, by no means its victim but rather product. He might not be a straight-out villain just yet but this book is our chance to observe him grow into one, all the while remaining not entirely bad nor good – he is remarkable at many things and it shines through the pages; he is remarkable at playing the protagonist. He is not one, he was never supposed to be one, and a great feature of this book is that the narrative tricks the readers into forgetting that fact.

If we are looking for a just and compassionate lead, this novel is not the right place for our search. Few of the characters are outrightly bad, as in, even the ones we’d expect to have no remorse whatsoever show some of it every now and then (and I am mostly talking about the Capitol’s citizens). Which is good – I’d say it prompts the reader to question, why would they do that? ( ← I might touch upon that in another post or add examples in reblogs. )

The only actually good characters I am seeing so far are Sejanus and Lucy Gray, but I believe that might have been the author’s intention.

Speaking of which, I have seen someone accuse Collins of (perhaps unknowingly) attempting to lessen the value of a compassionate and vulnerable stance (such as the one displayed by Sejanus) in the eyes of the reader, due to the way the lead character views it as. I disagree – the reader should not agree with any of the ideology Coriolanus follows from the very beginning of the book. Him being the main character doesn’t mean that the author agrees with his views. And if the reader falls for that narrative for a moment, then that is completely okay – the way I see it, it mainly shows that the character has been written properly (he does with the real life audience the same thing he does with the fictional people around him, tricking them into looking at things from his perspective).

Besides, there is plenty of wake-up calls (though once you get lured in by the narrative they may become less striking), such as the bizarre scene where teenagers are brainstorming how to make a mass execution more interesting. Under a teacher’s guidance, in class, just freely exchanging ideas that will later take a toll on the lives of thousands. That’s terrifying.

Or the entire concept of the monkey cage, the message it conveys; they are locked up in a rundown zoo, out in the open for other human beings to view and mock – as if they themselves weren’t human, as if they were humanoid. Similar, but not developed enough, not bright enough, clever but not intelligent and never equal. And then the privileged masses that put them there dare to act afraid.

That’s disgusting. That’s cruel and absolutely outrageous, and I love how Suzanne Collins has not given up on her expert usage of symbols (another example: the names, but I could go on and on about that), even if I do think some of those metaphors could have been disguised better and not just served on a platter.

( I’m aware this review might come off as void of criticism but it was completely unplanned— my first impression, if you will. )

I though I would wait with voicing my opinion until I finish the book but now I’d rather update this post as I go, as not to forget anything.

I found out about this prequel by pure chance, just because I had been meaning to give the HG trilogy another read after a long break (so chances are I wasn’t and won’t be able to pinpoint all the allusions to the saga).

[duskandstarlight]

Embers & Light (Chapter 21)

Notes:

Hi lovely readers, I hope you have all had a good week. Loved the comments from last week's chapter. It's so funny, because it wasn't one of my favourites, but it had so many of you feeling all the feels!

I know lots of you have been excited about the re-appearance of Az and I can promise that you get him first thing in this chapter.

For those of you invested enough to care, I'll be posting a few teaser sentences from the next E&L chapter every Wednesday here on Tumblr.

Enjoy! And as usual, let me know your thoughts :)

Chapter Twenty-One Nesta

The next two weeks went by in an extended blur — slow yet fast — as Nesta was thrown into training with an intensity that left her mentally and physically exhausted. Cassian hadn’t been joking when he’d told her he’d have her ready to slay with the longsword soon enough. Never before had he been so critical and sharp, not a sliver of a smile on his face each morning as he warmed her up through the guard positions in the sparring ring. Cassian would make her practice those moves until there was not a step out of place, before moving onto footwork and then actual swordplay, which always ended with Nesta hissing in annoyance when she made an error and left herself open for attack.

Despite that, Nesta knew she was learning faster than others. Nesta saw it in the way Cassian would push her harder still, even when she knew her moves were perfect. On occasion, Nesta would catch his eyes gleaming, utterly thrilled, as if her vicious thrust with the steel were almost the equivalent of her peeling off her clothes until she was wearing nothing but skin.

Staying true to her word, Nesta had asked Azriel to harness her ability to sense others emotions. Not a flicker of surprise had flitted across the shadowsinger’s face when she had told him about the element of her power, he’d only bowed his head in such an earnest way that Nesta had wondered whether he was pleased she’d asked.

The shadowsinger’s training approach hugely differed to his brother’s. Azriel used quiet, calm words rather than barked, fiery orders, but they were no less effective. For their first lesson, Azriel had taken Nesta to a rocky ledge wedged into the right of the mountain pass. It was a viewing platform poised above the sparring rings, which Azriel informed her was used mainly by the war lords and high-status families for the Rite ceremony and major festivals.

The clang of steel on steel rose up to meet them as the males trained. In the centre of it all was Cassian — a larger than life presence — his towering frame and huge membraneous wings making even the largest Illyrian’s appear inconsequential. Even from their height, Nesta could hear his abrupt orders as he worked the males with an intensity that dared them to defy him.

They didn’t. There was a begrudging respect amongst the warriors where Cassian was concerned that was easy enough for Nesta to identify. They had not forgotten how Cassian had fought in the war; how his sword had easily sliced through males as if they were made of nothing but air. His movements were like an intricate dance, his body always anticipating the next move, cutting down opponent after opponent as he led his army to victory. The Illyrian’s might not like that Cassian was a bastard, but they could not deny that he was exceptional in combat. So whilst they might sneer at him, they would watch him fight with eyes as sharp as a hawk, and when he corrected a males stance, they listened and adjusted their own technique accordingly.

“You know Devlon?” Azriel asked from behind Nesta, snapping her out of her reverie. He was standing a little back from her, giving her the space to adjust to their surroundings.

Nesta wondered if he knew about her fear of being caged or the panic that consumed her when things became too loud.

Narrowing her eyes, Nesta searched for the war lord, eventually finding him at the edge of one of the far sparring rings. Two hulking tattooed males loitered by his side. Ragar was one of them, and even from a distance, Nesta spied the pink, raw scar that jagged its way up his jugular and suppressed a shudder.

“Yes,” Nesta said tightly. “I know Devlon.”

“He’s your target,” Azriel told her. “I want you to try and sense his emotions.”

If anyone other than Azriel had asked her to do something so enormous and unachievable, Nesta would have snapped, but there was something about his calm nature combined with his deathly stillness that had her doing his bidding.

To her credit, Nesta had tried, but the noises were too loud for her to retreat into herself, even with the headband snuggled tightly on her ears.

“I can’t feel anything,” Nesta had told him shortly after five minutes of silence. Then she found herself confessing, “I don’t know how.”

Azriel shrugged as if her failure was inconsequential. He was leaning against the craggy rock wall, the green and blue of the snowdrops a stark contrast to his body, which was perpetually thrust in and out of shade. “Try Cassian. You’re around him the most, you’ve probably adapted to sensing his emotions unconsciously.”

Nesta had thrown Azriel a sharp look, but she did not correct him. He wasn’t wrong, after all. So she clipped instead, “Some would say that’s an invasion of privacy.”

Azriel’s lips tugged up at the corners of his mouth. “Perhaps. Given that the Solstice luncheon is in three weeks time, I don’t think Cassian will mind.”

Nesta had studied the shadowsinger for a moment. His body was wreathed in shadow but his face was unobscured. It meant that Nesta could see the hard lines of his face. Azriel looked like he had been carved out of marble by the finest sculptor: his jaw perfectly chiseled, his cheekbones well-defined, his eyebrows elegantly arched to frame hazel eyes that were close to Cassian’s in colour, but not quite right.

“You already know what he’s feeling?”

The corner of Azriel’s lips had twitched again. “I can’t read subtle emotion, only a spike when someone reacts strongly to something and I need proximity to do it. But,” Azriel continued, a rare secretive light blooming behind his eyes as he looked out to his brother in the sparring ring where he was demonstrating spear technique with another Illyrian, “I don’t need to tap into Cassian’s emotions right now. I can already tell.”

He settled his gaze back on Nesta, but they were encouraging rather than hard. “Try,” he urged her, with a smoothness that reminded Nesta of the chill of the midnight blue sky.

Closing her eyes, Nesta forced herself to take a slow, deep breath. She knew the scent of Cassian like it was woven into her DNA — pine, musk and fresh air — and she flung herself out like a fisherman casting a net, searching for him amongst the crowd. Emotion crashed into her with the force akin to a final blow as she let that icy wall around her own emotions thaw. She wanted to curl up into a ball and howl from the intensity of it all, but she forced herself to remain standing, even though it hurt. Nesta flitted through it all — the anger, awe, fury, irritation, calm, jealousy, and begrudged admiration of others — until she located him. It came with such sudden ease that Nesta wondered if it had found her rather than the other way around — the concern and sharp anger — that settled like a weight in the lining of her stomach. The sensation was undeniably Cassian. She knew it in her bones.

“Stop.”

One quiet, chilled command had Nesta opening her eyes with a shuddering gasp. She clambered to stack up those ice blocks until she felt numb and completely devoid of any feeling. The contrast to moments before was worse somehow, as if she had been seeing in colour but now she only viewed everything in shades of black and white.

The first thing she noticed as mud, pine and grey sharpened her vision was Cassian looking at her with a wild sort of concern in his eyes. Despite the distance, Nesta felt as if he were there with her, reaching to rest his palm against her cheek and bring her back. He had spun to stare up at them, as if he had known where they were the entire time. In his hand, his spear was poised and ready, as if he were planning to launch it through the skies to put an end to an approaching attack.

Adjusting her gaze, Nesta stared over Cassian’s shoulder to stare at the warrior he had been sparring. The male was panting, his wings heaving as he took the moment’s reprieve to catch his breath before Cassian no doubt threw himself at the warrior again.

“Good,” Azriel praised after a beat. “Did you feel anything?”

“He’s angry,” Nesta replied shortly. She didn’t add how she’d felt his concern, she didn’t think it necessary and if Azriel was half as good as others had insinuated, then he knew that already.

Even though Nesta knew Azriel must have felt Cassian’s surprise, he did not voice it. He only asked, “And how did you do it?”

Nesta fought the pink that wanted to blush across her cheeks. Instead, she raised her chin as her eyes narrowed and her entire body tensed, prepared battle. “I dropped my protective shield.”

It was a huge concession but Azriel did not judge her for the permanent cage she kept on her emotions. There was no softened expression or gentle words, only understanding as the shadowsinger nodded. “To sense what others feel you have to let down your own guard. You can’t expect to feel others if you can’t feel your own. Magic is always a balance — give and take. For Cassian and I, our magic and siphons allow us to fight with more precision, but by doing so, we drain our energy reserves. With your ability to sense what others are feeling, you must give a part of yourself, too. It is the same for me; my shadows can filter through the darkness for the feelings others hide, but only if I allow myself to become vulnerable.”

That explained the expressionless face of marble and the shadows that hid Azriel from view. Like Nesta, Azriel preferred to fade into the background; to observe rather than to be observed. There were similarities between them that Nesta could not deny. Perhaps that was why he did not irritate her like others did.

“I have detected others emotions without dropping my shields before,” Nesta told Azriel, remembering Mas’s pain as she slipped on the mountain and Cassian’s guilt after the kerits had attacked.

Azriel nodded. “I suspect when emotions are particularly high they manage to pierce through whatever shields you have in place, especially those you interact with on a day-to-day basis. Basic, more subtle emotion will come at a price.”

Nesta’s expression hardened. To let down her icy shield that protected her from feeling too much had been an unwitting battle she had endured all of her life. One of the cruellest things from being Made was that Nesta’s ability to feel had increased two-fold. She suspected that was why her battle trauma was worse than others: why the deaths of loved ones pierced her heart and rendered it with holes whilst others appeared in tact; why Cassian made her want to rend the sky apart. Nobody had ever made Nesta feel as much as he had.

“You’re clever to have put a protective shield in place,” Azriel told her, breaking her out of her train of thought. “When I was younger, I struggled with my ability to feel more than others. It took me many years to understand how to master my shadows and accept them as an extension of myself. Now, I would not let them go, not for anything.”

His expression had hardened. Nesta knew a little of Azriel’s upbringing — the bare bones from Cassian, who had mentioned it in passing during their training sessions — but not enough.

Azriel had endured cruelty beyond Nesta’s wildest imaginings. His scarred hands were testament to that. And to think that for years the shadows had been his only friend; until he had decided that he would allow them to wind through his magic, like two strands of a rope. Was that not what Nesta had done when she carved a piece out of the Cauldron to take for herself? When she had heard that awesome, archaic voice call to her in the dark, her body churning up inky water onto the rocky ground, her lungs heaving. When that flicker of light had grown in the midnight black, shining like a newborn star.

“Do you think it’s possible,” Nesta had asked, wanting to push that memory far, far away, “for me to learn how to read others emotions well enough before the luncheon?”

The way in which Azriel was wreathing shadows between his open fingers indicated to Nesta that she had not been wholly there for a while. He did not comment, only gave a curt nod of the head. “With some determination, I believe we can have you reading others emotions in three weeks time.” Azriel came to stand beside Nesta. He smelt of night-kissed mist and cedar. “I do not envy you going to that luncheon.”

Nesta raised an imploring eyebrow and resisted crossing her arms over her chest. “What does that mean?”

Hazel eyes scanned the sparring rings below them. “Cassian tells me you experienced first-hand how unpleasant Devlon can be.” His lips quirked up at the sides. “I wish I had been there to see it.”

Nesta’s snort was soft as she remembered how Devlon had recoiled at her flames. “The other war lords are really that bad?”

“It’s not how I would choose to spend Solstice,” Azriel admitted. “The tensions between the war lords are always high, but putting them all into one room together, especially at Ironcrest…” He grimaced as he trailed off. “Lord Marsh has not hosted the Solstice luncheon for at least a century. It has us all wondering whether it was him that decided to hold the event at his premises or whether it was his son’s influence.”

“Brutes,” Nesta said darkly. Azriel’s eyes lit with what Nesta dissected as amusement. “Cassian says they have pulled forward a meeting? About the Rite?”

Azriel nodded. “Yes. The Rite is in the Spring. Every year the war lords come together to talk through arrangements and for each camp to put forward their contenders. It is not normally held until the new year, but Marsh has suggested hosting the meeting after the luncheon, especially given that Ironcrest are hosting the ceremony this year.”

“You think there’s something untoward going on?”

Azriel shrugged. “Perhaps. It’s an unusual move. Illyrian’s are steadfast in their habits and are not usually open to change. The good news is that it gives you more time to hunt for the sword and identify whether it’s authentic.”

Nesta noticed that Azriel had not associated himself with the Illyrian’s. She did not blame him given how he had been treated. Nesta did not like to spoken of in relation to the Cauldron either.

“I want you to repeat what we have practiced every day,” Azriel told Nesta just before he had melted into shadow, his gaze on the horizon; at the sun which was a line of orange before it disappeared entirely to give way to dusk. “Find a target and work on only engaging with their emotions. I will be back in three days. Make them count.”

Nesta had refused Azriel’s offer to take her back to the bungalow. Instead, she had walked down the rocky steps to the training rings, only to find a sweat-soaked Cassian waiting for her.

They had walked back together in companionable silence, Nesta pondering Azriel’s advice; that it would be difficult to allow herself to feel everything all at once. Little and often was the key, he had told her with an apologetic smile, with lots of rest inbetween. Lowering her guard after a lifetime of shielding them was akin to a deaf person suddenly gaining their hearing back — overwhelming.

Azriel was not wrong. Drained from the intensity of the practice, Nesta had been so exhausted that she had all but crawled onto the couch once they had arrived back to the warmth of the bungalow before she had fallen straight to sleep.

She had dreamt of Cassian. Not of the their final moments in the war, but flashes of moments from the day of the kerits — thoughts that she would have usually pushed to the far reaches of her mind: of the way Cassian had looked down at her on his knees after they had defeated the beasts; the comforting scrape of his callouses as he rested his palm on her cheek; the feel of his fingers winding around a tendril of hair; how he had stared down at her with an intensity she should not have allowed, let alone felt…

But Nesta had been unable to look away as those bright hazel eyes had darted to her lips for a second too long. Between them, Nesta had heard his heart beating too fast against his ribcage; the insistent thump against strips of bone resonating in her ears, wrapping around her own wild rhythm. A phantom hand had wound through her hair, and she’d had to catch herself as her chin started to tilt upwards of its own accord…

The pull had been so intense that Nesta had been relieved when he had broken the spell. It was the draw that she had once accused of being Faerie magic. Now she knew it was not that at all, but a magnetism strung between them that she still could not shake. It called her name, begging her to close the distance, and Nesta had woken from the relived moment panting, her fingers slick with desire and a flood of relief when she realised that she was in her bed with the door firmly shut rather than in the living room.

Nesta had been having that dream regularly ever since, amongst others. Males with no faces, large calloused hands dragging over bare skin, lips and tongues pressing kisses into her skin… The visions kindled a gentle fire in her that licked pleasantly through her core, and Nesta often woke humming with a different sort of energy that had previously had her pinning down the nearest male to chase that waving crest of an orgasm.

“I thought we should head to Spearhead for training today,” Cassian told Nesta that morning, as they stood by the front door ready to leave the house.

Nesta caught the headband he tossed at her with ease and settled it over her ears. She never left the house without it.

Cassian looked unusually well-rested, the dark smudges having all-but faded beneath his eyes. He must not have had any nightmares recently if he was sleeping well, but Nesta knew it would be short-lived. Since they had been co-existing together, she had witnessed Cassian flit between wellness and sleep deprivation within the blink of an eye.

Nesta pulled on some long, knee-high boots that would protect her in the snow drifts. “We don’t have to go there,” she told him.

Cassian shot Nesta a sideways glance. “If your power is influenced by emotion, we need to practice in a place that effects how you wield it.”

He cocked his head at her, trying to dissect the inner workings of her mind. Something swept over his expression that looked like disappointment. “Do you not want to fly?”

Refraining from rolling her eyes, Nesta said shortly, “I thought you might prefer to train somewhere else.”

The way Cassian’s eyes softened was so slight Nesta nearly missed it, but she felt it in her core. “I make a point of going back from time to time,” Cassian assured her. Then he added, “It serves as a reminder.”

They stepped out into the frigid cold. Windhaven was covered in a fresh blanket of snow, a storm having hit days before and rendering the mountain pass sparkling white. They had literally had to dig some of the tents out of the snow and Nesta had been so terrified for the orphans and widows that she had made Cassian fly her up as soon as weather had eased up. They had spent the day helping the widows camp to function again. It had pained her that she could not control her fire enough to melt the snow for them, but Cassian had warned her that it could only be used on certain parts of the camp anyway. So Nesta had picked up a shovel instead and helped to shift as much of it as possible whilst Cassian disappeared to melt the path that ran up the mountain.

Later, she had braved the camp fire to curl up with Roksana and a few of the other orphans, using her body warmth to thaw their frozen limbs as she recounted story after story until Cassian had come to take her back to the bungalow.

She had kept her promise to him about venturing out into the camp after dark.

The wind stung as Cassian got them airborne, but then he slid a shield over them in a sheath of red light and the air became still and quiet. It didn’t stop it from being any less cold and Nesta held back a shiver, not wanting him to notice how weak she was being.

But after ten minutes of being in the skies, that resolve had all but faded. Her fingers and toes were so numb she considered that they might fall off.

She scowled. “Are you going deliberately slow?”

Her accusation rang up between them but Cassian only cast a slow look down at her. The movement was deliberate and it had her temper spiking. “Why?”

Nesta’s scowl deepened. “Because it feels as if we are barely moving.”

Cassian cocked a taunting eyebrow. “Be careful Nesta, I’ll throw you into a dive if you keep goading me.”

A snarl unleashed itself from her throat but Cassian only barked a short laugh. “Is this your convoluted way of telling me to go faster?”

Nesta made an unimpressed sound. “All I’m saying is that despite your fancy magic I am still freezing and it would be nice if we made it to Spearhead before noon.”

Another laugh — delighted this time — and Cassian picked up the pace with a few strong flaps of his wings. His eyes were begging for some verbal sparring as he looked down at her. “I’m starting to think you’re getting used to being in the sky, sweetheart.”

Nesta shrugged, refusing to rise to his taunt. Instead, she cast her gaze down to the snow-kissed landscape. Up this high, it looked stunning rather than brutal; a glittering, blank canvas. “It reminds me of riding,” she admitted. That peaked Cassian’s interest. He flung his wings out wide so they soared for a moment longer. Even still, the movement was faster than it had been before her accusation, and the wind roared around the shield he’d put in place. “You used to ride?”

Staring down at the feathered snow-capped pine trees of The Steppes, Nesta dipped her chin. “Before we lost everything,” she said vaguely, but as the memory of it hit her, she found herself snorting abruptly.

Cassian’s lips twitched. “What?” he asked.

He was concentrating on the path ahead of them, and from her view point, Nesta could see every one of his dark eye lashes. They were crusted with ice. This high up, the cold was even more punishing than in the mountain pass. Nesta had no idea why Cassian didn’t extend his shield to cover his entire body. It probably had something to do with the Illyrian’s tendency for self-punishment.

In order to distract herself, Nesta snorted again. “My mother only wanted me to learn side saddle — to ride like a lady,” she explained shortly, “but I used to sneak down in the mornings and gallop across the fields before she was awake. It made me feel alive. Flying is the closest I’ve come to that feeling — the rush and freedom of it.”

It was true. Not at first — not when Feyre’s arrogant mate had sped fast enough to make her vomit — but much later, with Cassian, Nesta had come to hunger for the skies. Flying was exhilarating, Nesta had found, and she wanted more. She wasn’t sure she’d ever like it when Cassian dove, but when he speared through the air, his wings tucked in tight… it made Nesta feel awake.

“And nobody knew?”

Cassian’s voice broke her out of her reverie. She gave a disinterested shrug, making sure the movement was small so Cassian didn’t lose his hold on her. “My father, I think, but he never told anyone and he was often travelling. I bribed the stable boy to teach me to ride properly.”

Wicked amusement loosed a hand over Cassian’s face. “What did you bribe him with?”

“He used to frolic in the hay with a girl — I caught him when he was supposed to be working.”

A sound of amusement rang in the back of Cassian’s throat, as if he were imagining a young Nesta bargaining and threatening a stable boy years older than her to do her bidding. But he only asked carefully, “You were close to your mother?”

That was not a subject Nesta wanted to discuss, so she shut him down. “I wanted to be.”

Cassian nodded in a way that told her he understood. “And would you ride now, if you could?”

Nesta cut him a quizzical look. “Yes,” she said slowly. “Although I would need to relearn. It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the saddle.”

The attention had been on Nesta for too long and her skin was itching with interrogation. Even though it was her who had brought it up, she felt exposed in a way she no longer felt comfortable with. Mentally, she stitched up the wound until she felt calm again. Cassian remained silent, as if he knew that she could not continue.

Eventually, she turned the tables — a deflection and… curiosity. “Do you remember your mother?”

A surprised pause but no sensation lined Nesta’s stomach. He was getting better at catching them; reigning them in so she would not sense them. Sometimes he managed it, other times he didn’t.

“Barely,” Cassian said finally. He did not look down at her and Nesta wondered if speaking about her was precious to him; something he did not usually voice out loud but preferred to keep inside. Nesta understood, so she stared resolutely at the landscape rather than him. “I remember her voice and her hands as we sat around a camp fire. She used to sing to me. This… Illyrian lullaby. I can barely remember it, only a few lines.”

“What were they?” Nesta’s voice was too soft, too quiet, but she knew somehow that Cassian had never told anybody this before. That this information was just as precious to him as Heroicis.

She sensed rather than saw Cassian’s frown. “It sounds better in Illyrian than in translation.”

“Say it in Illyrian then,” she said. Her voice was not demanding but encouraging. A rarity for her.

Cassian seemed to sense it too, because after a slight pause, he dropped into Illyrian with an ease that made her shudder. She listened to the quiet intensity in which he spoke; the gentle lilt in his voice that was almost trance like. She had no idea what it meant, but she felt tears rise to her eyes before she could stop them.

Cassian didn’t notice. She could tell he was still frowning as he finished. “It doesn’t sound right,” he said, slipping back into the common tongue. “It’s supposed to be sung not spoken, but I don’t remember the tune.”

But Nesta would not allow him to taint the words — the words that clearly meant so much to him. She reached her hand up to curl around his shoulder. He looked down at her in surprise.

“It’s beautiful,” she told him with a reverence she reserved for no-one. “Will you translate it for me?”

Nesta wasn’t sure if Cassian saw the silver lining her eyes as his dark eyes scoured her face. Eventually, he nodded simply in answer, and when he spoke, all of the hairs stood up on her arms as a shiver ran down her body.

“Goodnight my warrior heart, Soon Mother won’t hold you fast. One day she will watch you go, But she’ll search high and low, For the twin stars in the night.”

The moment afterwards stretched between them as Cassian banked slightly to the right, his eyes flitting up to view the course ahead. Forest green in dusted white made way to craggy snow-capped mountains, and then beyond that, a pointed stretch of flat mountain pass — Spearhead.

“Have you tried to find out the rest of the lullaby?” Nesta asked when she was certain her voice would not waver.

“Not really,” Cassian admitted. “I asked Rhys’ mother but she didn’t know it. Some lullabies are native to camps and the females… well, they’re scared of me, because of what I did. And… it’s something that I’ve kept for myself for a long time. To speak of it too often made me feel as though I had to part with a piece of it.”

“But would you like to know? If the information was there?”

“Yes,” Cassian said quietly. “I’d like to know.”

Then, as if he too has exposed too much of himself, he said in a voice that was far more conversational and indicated an end to their discussion, “Other than that, I don’t remember much of my time before Windhaven.” Cassian started their descent. He was still moving with greater speed. The rhythm seemed natural for him, and Nesta wondered just how often he had been holding back from tasting the skies as he liked for fear she would give him hell. “All I have in my memory is cold, mud, hunger and too-small fires.”

Nesta nodded even as a lump formed in her throat. She knew what it was to starve and feel unimaginable cold, but to think of Cassian as a little boy cradled against his mother’s chest made the ice want to crack inside of her. She knew what it was to huddle against bodies for warmth so you didn’t freeze to death; she had done that with her sisters night after night, even though the gesture had only ever brought the knowledge that she would never warm up.

Cassian glanced back down at her, and in his eyes she saw a shared understanding that bound them together: You know what it’s like to be starving and cold with no promise of warmth.

“The snow will be deep,” Cassian warned Nesta as he set her down on the boulder in the clearing she had previously burned. “Let me clear some of it so we can spar. I will not be responsible for your frostbite, not when I know how much hell you’ll give me for it.”

Nesta snorted but did not disagree with him. She watched Cassian carve out a training ground for them and tried not to shiver. It was obscenely cold this high up and the wind was so sharp it stung her skin with a ferocity that made her thankful her headband was tight around her head. She was wearing sheepskin leathers, with thermals underneath and knee high boots that Cassian had eyed a little too long when she’d first worn them.

Despite all of her clothing, Nesta’s body still wanted to shake.

She had been slowly and surely been putting on weight, and whilst her cheeks had started to fill out, Nesta wished she’d taken Cassian’s many offerings of second helpings — the extra body fat would be a blessing right now…

A flare of Cassian’s siphons caught her attention as the air hung quiet around them yet again.

“We won’t hear one another otherwise,” Cassian said in explanation. “And,” he added with a feral grin that did nothing to hide the concern layered beneath it, “your lips have turned blue.”

His grin widened at Nesta’s hiss, but he held out a hand to help her down. She batted him away before reluctantly realising it was too far and allowed him to bear her weight as she jumped into the sludgy snow. From the first impact, Nesta felt the cold seep through the thick soles of her boots and creep into the fur lining.

“I want to try something new today.”

Nesta narrowed her eyes. “If you are about to make a sexual advance as a disguise for warming me up, I advise against it.”

Cassian’s canines flashed at the same time his hazel eyes sparked. “Don’t give me ideas, Nesta. I could think of some fun ways to warm you up.”

Nesta snort was unimpressed as she flicked her eyes to the sky. “So predictable,” she sniped. When she held her fingers up, they sparked silver fire. “I can think of some ways to warm you up, too.”

Throwing back his head, Cassian laughed. It was a rough sound, but Nesta heard it for what it was — a distraction. The last time they had visited this mountain pass, Cassian had been in a foul mood and Nesta had been no better. It hadn’t been helped by the memory of pain and suffering that had wound its way from the ground and into Nesta’s blood, until her stomach had been churning with it. Already Nesta could feel the same thing happening; a vibration in her limbs as the energy of years-worth of torment rushed to meet her power. And Cassian… well, being here must be awful for him. Just the knowledge that his mother dwelled here in an unmarked grave made Nesta want to rend apart the sky from the agony of it.

Unclipping a siphon from his armour, Cassian cradled the jewel in the heart of his palm. “I want you to wear this.”

Nesta stared at him in disbelief. She couldn’t have heard him right. “Excuse me.”

Cassian’s lips briefly tightened into a thin line. His mood was darkening by the second and from the slight sensation lining her stomach, she could sense trepidation. This was not a decision he had made lightly.

Yet he stretched his arm out towards her anyway. “Take it,” he ordered, in a way that told him he would not change his mind.

Nesta took the siphon from Cassian. She expected the stone to feel heavy and lifeless in her hand but it pulsed as she touched it; warm, as if it were a steady, beating heart. That heat travelled into her palm… into her veins… until it met her singing power. The siphon glowed as deep as blood as her silver mist curled around it in greeting.

Nesta’s head snapped up to look at Cassian in shock. His eyes had turned hard and unyielding but there was also a light in them that had not been there before. The siphons on his armour were also glowing, as if they too could feel the thrum in its counterpart.

“Siphons store magic,” Cassian told Nesta. His voice had dropped impossibly low — intense. “I’ve wondered for a long while if your magic would be compatible with them.”

Nesta’s eyes widened at the confession — at the gravity of what he was admitting. Once, when she had been very bored and had run out of books, Nesta had dipped into the first few pages of Cassian’s book on siphons, so she roughly knew how they worked. She also knew that Cassian had needed seven to hold the enormity of his power — that if he were to have too few, his Killing Power would blast them to nothing but red dust.

“I could have shattered it,” Nesta snapped. “Are you insane?”

“But you didn’t,” was all Cassian replied. His hands came to her shoulders, steering her so she was facing the clearing of ashen tree stumps and black landscape that should have been pine and stone before she had unleashed hell on it. “Your magic works differently to mine. It is not designed to simply kill. How does it feel?”

“Fine.”

More than fine. Nesta felt as if her skin were singing, her power flowing into the stone as if it were running through a filter. It did not clamber or claw like it usually did; it only filled up the stone like it were an extension of herself. The rest of her immense magic remained in her veins. And Nesta felt stronger… much stronger.

“Illyrian’s use siphons to make our raw magic more precise,” Cassian told her. His voice vibrated against the shell of her ear. He was still holding on to her shoulders, his hands warm despite the immense cold. “We know that you do not need siphons to master your magic, but I thought you could practice using one of mine so you can feel what it is to be in control. If you get a sense of how it feels, I am hoping that you will be able to slip into it more easily when the time comes to practice without one.”

Sensing Nesta’s confusion, Cassian elaborated, “Think of it like the training wheels of a bike. You use them to get a sense of balance, but eventually you have to take the wheels off and master it alone.”

Cassian reached over Nesta to take the siphon from her outstretched hand. Without it Nesta felt light — untethered. The loss was too keen for something she’d only just touched, and from the way Cassian tensed behind her, she wondered if he had sensed it too. Blinking, Nesta turned to see Cassian reaching into his tunic pocket. He brought out a thin corded rope and thread it between the two hooks at the top of the jewel before tying the rope tightly at the ends. He looped it over Nesta’s neck before she realised what was happening.

Nesta stared down at where the ruby rested against her sternum and then back up at Cassian.

“Tuck it beneath your leathers to keep it safe,” Cassian told her.

Nesta didn’t argue. Somehow she knew the gravitas of the moment. Without Cassian’s siphons — his refined Killing Power — he believed himself wholly unworthy. Yet despite the importance of those stones, he was lending one to her. He had risked her shattering it. So Nesta coaxed the makeshift necklace beneath her leathers until the stone touched bare skin.

“This is the closest you will ever get to touching my chest,” she clipped coldly, trying to ignore how the heat from the ruby was seeping into her skin, the sensation deliciously warm.

Cassian’s laugh was deep and rich. “We’ll see.”

“You will not,” she snapped, even as her skin burned with the intent behind his words.

Cassian dared to wink at her as he stepped back. With a flare of ruby, a target appeared in the ashen clearing ahead of them.

“We’ll use the siphon as a way for you to practice settling into a sense of calm,” Cassian told her, crossing his arms firmly over his chest. The change in his voice told her that he was done playing. “Us Illyrian’s call it the Killing Calm; when everything goes deadly still in your head before you enter battle. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Yes,” Nesta admitted begrudgingly. It was what had happened with both Devlon and Ragar and his cronies. Cassian nodded in understanding. “I thought so. When you’re angry or overwhelmed, you expel your power in one go. By settling into a sense of calm, we can teach you to master your magic. The siphon will allow you to do that. Let’s practice.”

Nesta hit the target every time. She started by striking the outer edge, but by the end of their practice Nesta’s power was burning holes through the bullseye with a precision that even had Cassian nodding in admiration.

“And all the trees are in tact,” Cassian mused after he’d told her to rest. “We need to work on finessing your flames, but that was a good start. I suspect the memory of emotions from the camp is effecting your control.”

It was true, whilst Nesta had hit the target every time, she had also blasted it to smithereens with each impact. Cassian had replaced them with a casual flare of his siphons, and although Nesta had become a little better over the course of the session, the pain and agony that hummed through her veins had overloaded her magic so that it roared.

Slamming up layers and layers of shield had done nothing to mute the sensation. Despite the siphon, Nesta’s power was constantly replenished and raring to be expelled. In the end, Nesta had given up, allowing her power to blaze through the air with a precise sort of havoc that had Cassian’s eyes gleaming and a muscle feathering in his jaw; as if he was waiting in thrilled anticipation to see what she was capable of at the same time he was hoping she would master it.

As if sensing that Nesta still felt restless, Cassian magicked some longswords and put her to work.

Fighting with the longsword made Nesta feel powerful and strong, but today she was unstoppable, an endless energy pounding through her veins. A month ago, when they had first started training with the sword, Cassian had made her begin with a wooden replica. He had quickly realised that her enhanced strength meant that she could wield the real thing with little difficulty. For all of her starvation, Nesta found that eating regularly had allowed her to slip into her inner strength with an ease that had astounded her. It had not surprised Cassian. He had only observed her bring the sword up into ochs before switching through the guard drill he had taught her with a fierce sort of respect that had made her take stock.

After Cassian could no longer critique her guard drills, they began to spar. Each clang of her steel against Cassian’s only made her feel stronger. Today, on this agonised land, Nesta was faster in every sense of the word — her body as sharp as her mind — and she and Cassian fell into a rhythmic sort of dance, their puffs of breath clouding the air around them.

That’s when it happened. Somehow Nesta forced Cassian into the defensive, and when he had thrown her off of him and feinted to the left, Nesta had read him like the page of a well-worn book. She seized the opening, thrusting forward to strike him clean in the side. Cassian’s eyes widened just as her steel struck his armour.

They stopped abruptly. Nesta’s lungs were burning with the effort but her veins hummed, and the siphon beneath her leathers pulsed as Cassian’s flared. The sensation was like another heartbeat.

Her mouth twisted into a wicked smile of its own accord, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as Cassian’s jaw went slack. She had struck him. She had struck him. And in her stomach wasn’t Cassian’s sense of disbelief, but admiration and pride.

“I believe that was a clean hit, Lord of Bloodshed. Remind me, how long have you been training as a warrior?”

The snicker that left Cassian did not mask the awe that had fallen across his dark features. “A humble warrior doesn't gloat, sweetheart.”

Nesta snorted. “Then it would seem I am not a humble warrior.”

Cassian laughed. His pupils were still blown wide; light brown interspersed with green, like forked lightning through chocolate. This was not like the laughter she usually heard. This was completely unchained and joyous. It melted into the atmosphere, into the stone; a fraction of light within the dark.

“I should have known you wouldn’t be modest,” he told her. “Will I ever hear the end of this?”

“No,” Nesta replied.

Her lips had fallen slightly, but a rare amount of amusement remained across her features. The sensation made her feel lighter… less heavy and manicured. It was not something she’d let anyone privy to. But she supposed Cassian had seen all of her now. And he had not run. He had made mistakes, just as she had. Both of them were stumbling on new legs after the war but they were trying to find alternative paths for themselves. When Nesta searched deep inside herself she found that there was no resentment, not today. Maybe tomorrow… but for now. She looked around them at the unencumbered view; the sky streaked with pastel hues, the sun glowing impossibly large so that everything sparkled, making the snow appear as if it were alive.

Cassian was watching her with an expression that she could not dissect. So she wrinkled her nose and asked, “What now?”

With a wave of his hand, the longswords vanished.

She quirked a questioning eyebrow at him, but Cassian only winked at her with a devilish grin that made her blood boil beneath her skin.

Instinctively, she glared at him. Anything to get rid of the unwanted heat that felt like a brand.

“Training with the longsword is essential, but every Illyrian chooses a speciality in combat depending on their strengths,” Cassian told her. His smile had turned smug, which told her that he knew she was flustered. He waved a hand and a weapon’s rack appeared out of thin air. “Choose a weapon,” he ordered.

Nesta crossed her arms firmly over her chest. It was a small act of defiance. “I’m not Illyrian.”

Cassian shrugged. The gesture was relaxed, but his next words were serious, “Then who are you, Nesta?”

“You should be asking, what am I?” she parried, hoping to deflect the question — to watch his eyes gleam.

But Cassian only snorted and waved a jewelled hand. “What are you? Who are you? Who do you want to be? How will you stake your legacy? These are all important questions in Illyrian culture. Illyrian’s believe that you carve your own individual fate — that you can decide how you want to be remembered. Every mistake in the sparring ring is a valuable life lesson. They look forward not back.”

Cassian loosed a breath at the stubborn expression on her face. “You don’t have to choose a weapon if you don't want to, but I have a feeling that the longsword isn’t your calling.”

Nesta’s nostrils flared. “Are you saying I’m bad? I just struck you, if you don’t recall.”

“No, if you continue your training you could be excellent if you wanted to be,” Cassian replied. The remark was off-hand but Nesta knew that was a compliment beyond reckoning. Cassian might be kind, but in the sparring ring praise was hard to come by. Ok, Again and That wasn’t half bad, were the best Nesta usually received during their training sessions. When he was particularly pleased, he might throw in a Good, but for the most part Cassian was hard-faced and serious.

Nesta tried and failed to hide how the praise affected her, even as her skin started to heat.

But for once, Cassian was not paying attention. He shook his head, as if he were emptying his head of thoughts. “I just have a feeling that there is a better weapon for you,” was all he said eventually. “Would you like to choose?”

Nesta studied him for a moment. There was no mockery in his gaze, only sincerity. She did not respond, she only stood up to the rack and took in the weapon’s before her

Her eyes slid over the knives, her gut only twisting slightly in response — a sign of how far she had come — the spear, the mace, the crossbow, the war hammer, and sword after sword after sword, until finally her power leapt and rubies pulsed. Reaching out, Nesta traced the curve of the bow with her fingertips, feeling the intricate carvings similar to the black tattoos that marked Cassian’s skin. It was beautiful and deadly and hers.

She turned to Cassian with an expression that told him he was not to argue. “This one.”

To her surprise, Cassian just nodded. There was no mocking, he only nodded to the bow, urging her to take it. 

Her skin hummed as she picked it up. The bow was larger than any weapon she had handled before, but somehow it did not dwarf her frame. The wood was polished and smooth, the curvature of it similar to her upper lip. It felt like an extension of herself, just as Cassian’s siphon slotted into a carved out piece of her that had remained empty, waiting unknowingly.

“How does it feel?”

“Right,” Nesta said simply.

Cassian nodded. The movement was short and decided, as if her words set it in stone. “Good. We’ll incorporate it into your training.” He waved a hand and the bow vanished along with the weapon’s rack. “Let’s go back to Windhaven.”

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[seriouslyblacklikemysoul]

Until  Forever - Sirius Black

After a while, I have finished this chapter - it’s small but cute; I think. Also, since I have been away for a long time, just comment below this if you want to be tagged! The next chapter will be out withing this week. As always, my English is a warning by itself!  MASTERLIST  Prologue | Mercury | Delicate | Blue | Running | Aftermath | Stardust | December | Nightfall | Revelations  | Friends

Chapter 12. Resolutions.

             Twenty-two years should be enough time to feel like she belonged and that there was a place of her own. But twenty-two years have not been enough for her, and she had resigned to think that maybe no amount of years will be enough. She could not, after all, force a home to happen.             Her definition of “home” had been blurred, lost even. Instead, “home” floated between the longing for an unnamed place and a stubborn determination to make this place a “home.” This was not to say that she had never felt at home here. She had. Not always though. Other days she was a foreigner here and everything outside her window begun to look strange and dissonant. It was a bit of a paradox. Home had never been geographical for her. It was everywhere and nowhere.            Waking up in the same room, same bed with him was beautiful and terrifying because it felt familiar and hit her close to heart. She had drifted off to sleep without realizing that Sirius was afraid to close his eyes – how could he?            His wounds were bleeding badly, just by looking at her but at the same time it felt as if roses were spilling their sweet water down his spine – a chilling sensation run through his veins. For some reason he wanted to think about her loudly. He had thought about how hungry leaves looked right before a storm – wanting to live but desperate to die within the swirling sensation of the tornado. She was a loud thought. He could try to think of anything else – cookies or how tender flowers were and then she became the only thought in his mind. She swelled up and blocked everything else out. She became the sun, the moon and the stars – and he had loathed the stars, even his name, thanks to his parents, but of course, she was poetry in motion just like the tattoo she now had. She felt as a ringing in his ears, all sweet in its siren, all fluid, all open ache. In the middle of movies, of conversations, of collecting his life, she simply slipped in between the cracks.

           And he was thinking about her again – but looking at her made his mind stop for one moment. He had nothing to be afraid of, even his house felt distant. He knew how incredibly wrong it was but the world had seized to exist.             And now it was her turn to notice him in his sweet serenity and glory – but she couldn’t for if she focused her thoughts solely on him, she would cave in and ignore all the signs telling her to stop, including her own mind. She felt him turning, waking up and pretended she was asleep again with hitched breath, something he did notice. He had never slept so peacefully in his life but he knew that the night was gone and their time was running out. He didn’t know what to do nor how to act around her this time. It felt vulnerable as a moment. The frozen sun softly illuminated the room and the tender stillness gently reminded him that she was out of his reach. He tried to pretend she was asleep; it would be so much easier for both of them. But it was fake and with her around he couldn’t fake anything anymore. She had gotten under his skin and the truth was he didn’t want her to leave.            She never was in one place and he had finally understood why; a soft lover hidden behind cold lies to keep everyone in a safe distance; a rose appearing as a thorn rather than the delicate blossom. There was something in her eyes, as she dared to look at him, that made him question the universe itself. She indolently stretched her limbs and his eyes followed her body. Her eyes met his and the tension was so thick, she could cut it with a knife. She smiled kindly. Trying not to be too blunt about the fact that they shared a bed and much more intimate thoughts the night before, she decided to say a simple good morning instead of prolonging the inevitable, hoping for the lesser evil...            She did try to say it but the words were caught on the back of her neck. She wanted to make it less awkward but once her mind started racing, she would shut down and not be able to function. Instead, Sirius was the one to break the ice. "Hello sleeping beauty. James and the guys are waiting for us. Maybe we should get going. Whenever you are ready" he reminded her. Not having to conceal her tattoos anymore mainly because Sirius and Remus already knew... allowed her to see that things could move forward. As she moved forward she did hoped that she could have the courage to do things differently, to be the kind of a person who took the risk, who led with her heart and showed up in her life with a ruthless dedication to learning and growing and enjoying the hell out of her moments here. She knew that she had to trust the part of herself that felt there was more out there for her that was easy to quiet when she was trying to live by the rules and the expectations of a world that has bred so much dissatisfaction and sadness. She never liked the rules anyway. She wanted to free herself from the boundaries that could hold her no longer.            “Sure… just give me an hour to pack a couple of things and grab a shower, okay?” she boldly asked him as she climbed down from her bed, trying to stop her eyes from catching Sirius’s staring. He had a wicked smile plastered on his lips but agreed with her nonetheless and leaving her be.                                       “I’ll be in the common room. One hour” he chimed cheerfully and walked out of her room as if nothing had happened. She rolled her eyes and grabbed a backpack, charmed it to fit all of her things and threw everything in – the dress, the shoes, a pair of pajamas, a pair of jeans, a comfy shirt, undergarments, a pair of flats and her makeup bag. She always liked to be prepared for everything. She didn't want to go but after a night with him, she found herself persuaded... And the thing was he hadn't even asked her.            After her shower, she got dressed in the simple pair of jeans and a sweater, threw her hair in a bun, grabbed her bag and went downstairs to find him. He was there just like he had promised her. Exactly an hour ago. He was sitting next to the fireplace which was burning brightly, eyes lost in an invisible horizon, absentmindedly rolling a cigarette, his mind traveling miles away in the speed of light. She could almost see his brain thinking and twisting and swirling around - what, she did not know.                Watching him completely unaware of her stare made her realized how vulnerable he was, how soft and tender... and broken. She shook her head trying to stop her mind from wandering around the same old thought and instead focused energy on the one thing she knew she was going to go... She didn’t dare think she would enjoy it.            She would be lying to herself and everyone else if she was to say that being here, in that particular moment, having met the people she met, enjoying something that everyone else could only read, having the chance to be in fictional world, was merely okay... It was terrifying. She didn't believe she would characterize and label it as scary exactly because it was so beautiful an innocent and raw. But it was terrifying, knowing how the story ended, knowing that Sirius would end up in Azkaban, knowing the James and Lily would die before they could reach twenty-two, knowing that Remus would end up believing that he was all alone - but most importantly knowing that she could not change a single detail.            Looking at him was like a war. It felt violent and without escape. A star bathed in blood, tormented by the demons of his own existence. Demons that had escaped the gates of hell, a place she knew rather well. Eyes like spilled Mercury, fists covered in Ares' bruises, mind ruled by Athena's strategy and Pluto's deception. She couldn't speak of his heart; she didn't know if it was sacrificed to Aphrodite or given willingly to Persephone. Sometimes he felt like Hades to her. Dark, soft, bruised, wickedly sinister, broken, desperate for love, incapable of forgiving himself. There was a sad smile forming on her lips... She knew him all too well.            She was looking at him the way she had been wishing for someone to look at her; like the sun wasn’t bright enough; like the moon wasn’t soft enough; like the stars weren’t there anymore. Maybe she was biased. Maybe his eyes were whispering long-forgotten tales to her soul.           “You have that strange look, I cannot decode” he told her as he turned to face her. She just smiled, not hiding behind thin lies.            “Such a plot twist, you are” she whispered as he approached her. Her answer took him by surprise. They were used to playing a game of hide and seek – but she didn’t want to hide any longer. Her eyes spoke a million truths; all those answer he was searching for.            “Who are you?” he faintly asked her, playing with a strand of her long hair.                            “I thought I knew” she admitted. She didn’t know who she was but she knew that she was no longer the same person.            “You fell from the sky and turned my life upside down” he told her with a hint of anger in his voice but she merely chuckled.            “How do you know your life wouldn't be better turned upside down?” she quoted a favorite abstract of hers. He was about to say something but suddenly he stopped. He thought about those words.            “We should go” she softly reminded him.

              James was the kindest person she had met. She remembered him being described as a bully – he had never been one. Maybe he was voicing his dislike in a bit of extravagant way but he never bullied anyone. Okay, yes. Severus had been an exception – when they were 13. Stupid kids, not knowing how to properly react. Who could hold that against him?            He had been the perfect gentleman, as he helped her with her bag and showed her to the guestroom. She hadn’t even thought about a room – but his house was a mansion, a small detail that the books didn’t mention. The room was twice as big as her old one, with an en-suite bathroom.            Seeing Remus, practically stumbling upon him once she left her room, felt like a punch to her chest. He was so tragically beautiful, she thought. Strange, how she could get attached to two different people. But then again, maybe they weren’t so different after all. She saw the questions burning in his eyes. She wanted to tell him everything but how could she justify her selfish actions?            “You came” he looked at her in an almost surprised way. She contemplated her options. Of course, he was surprised. Who would have the nerve or the audacity to face their ex on such a short amount of time? Trying to find the right words to say, she realized that she was still very much drawn to him. Shit.            “I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I really am, Remus” she found herself apologizing but what for? He saw her shift and smiled warmly. Fuck those amber eyes.        “There is nothing to apologize for, love. Just some things to clarify” he led on. She knew that he had to be aware of everything, she just wished that he wouldn’t want answers. But, who wouldn’t?            She pushed the door of her temporary room open with her hip and showed him in. It would be as easy as breathing to be honest – and as difficult as suffocating underwater. He had every right to know, she thought. This was his story, his life…

              Remus had never been stupid – he observed everything and everyone from a safe distance. With her, it had been different from the very beginning. He knew she had secrets and big ones, for that matter, but never had he expected to be told that she was from another dimension – or as she had labelled it, another possibility.              She gave him time; time to get himself together, time to understand her words, time to accept that maybe she was indeed honest, time to connect every bit of information. He was the one who pushed her for answers. He had to be ready to accept them. Yet, everything she told him seemed like a made-up story but he couldn’t shake that damn feeling that she was telling the truth. She hadn’t changed the subject, she hadn’t avoided a single question, she had told him every little detail that would be impossible for her to know otherwise. And he knew that she was special, he was aware of that. He knew that she was different – but how could he imagine that she was from a distant future – from another place, entirely, one he was a character in a book?                His mind was screaming at him for a breather but he refused – he needed to ask more questions but at the same time he already knew the answers. He was battling a losing fight inside of him; betrayal and understanding. She had chosen to hide the fact that she knew about his life and his entire future, yet how could she reveal it to him? It was obvious to him that she acted the exact same way he would have. He understood now the side glances, the soft but sad smile that was always on her lips whenever she’d see him, the inevitable of it all and how doomed everything mush have seemed to her.              Remus had never been stupid – he observed everything and everyone from a safe distance. And then she had come along, shaking his very core, only to reveal something unfathomable. He noticed her eyes again, slowly regaining focus as he tried to gulp down every bit of information. She hadn’t taken her eyes off of his and he felt that maybe, just maybe, history wasn’t written in stone – maybe this once. She had that ability – to change his mind almost instantly, to make him question the principles of nature and life itself. And then a tiny little voice, told him that he wasn’t the only one being affected by her presence.   Afterall, if everything she had told him was true, his friend did need her, and quite frankly deserved her, a lot more. How wrong of him, to objectify her and think of her as a need. She was happily unaware of those last thoughts, he knew.                    “I don’t know how to process this – or rather, how to deal with this’ he truthfully told her and her smile told him that she was expecting that very answer. Absentmindedly, she squeezed his hand and didn’t let go.              “I don’t know how difficult it must be for you, I can only guess. Listen, I could have lied, and believe me, we both would have been in a better shape, but to you – it feels impossible. Lying doesn’t work on you. You already know. And that’s why, I think, you are going to deal with this, one way or another; because you already knew. I know that it’s a lot and I am so sorry. It’s your life, your path, your decision. You can either ask me to obliviate the shit out of you or you can keep it to yourself, or even discuss it with the others” she offered him exactly what he needed. Solace.                      He thought about it for a moment and he knew that the moment would turn into many sleepless nights. How could he ever say those things out loud? How could he accuse one of his best friends that he would kill another? But then again, how could he not? He simply nodded, fully aware of the huge weigh on his chest – and painfully aware of her lips, inches away.          

[sakurasangcl]

ethereal

pairing: Elf!Yukhei (Lucas) x Human!Reader

word count: 3.7k

genre: smut, mainly, with angst and fluff

plot: Because of a century old deal, you’re chosen as the bride of the Fey King. He turns out to be different than what you expected, and a lot more is asked of you than you would have originally thought. 

warnings: creampie, marking, spit, a little bit of spanking, you will catch feels

One hundred years ago, your town had made a deal with the fey. To willingly give them any female of their choice to wed the future king. Over the century, the town grew and those original families never left. Few girls of the proper age were left, and you were one of them. 

The date was set to be October 28th, when the agreement itself was originally made. The eligible females were left by the woods in an old, well kept building made specifically for this day. There were no locks on any doors nor windows in the one room building. There was a large fireplace to keep warm, along with sofas and chairs to lounge in.

You were in a white dress too sheer for your liking, with a blanket wrapped around you while you tended to the fire. The other girls gossiped over who they thought would be taken, and how they felt so lucky and were overjoyed to be there. You, however, just wanted to go home. After a while, some of the girls seemed to have quieted down; it was getting late and the moon was high in the sky. A yawn escaped you as you added more wood to the fire. You pushed a chair closer to the warmth and laid down in it, letting yourself drift off to a light sleep, briefly wondering if you should try to barricade yourself inside. 

You woke up with the fire having nearly gone out, and you felt a shiver of fear overtake you. A cold breeze lowers the temperature in the room, and you realize that the door is open. You open your eyes and move slowly, surveying the room. A large, humanoid creature was surveying the room, taking its time looking at each girl. Nearby, a girl coughs in her sleep. 

It turns its head and looks around you, and slowly walks in your direction. You pull the blanket around you, fear causing your heart to pound in your ears. You kept your breathing stead, trying to remain calm. You close your eyes and feign sleep, wanting it to pass you and leave you be. 

“I know you’re awake, Y/N,” a deep, undeniably masculine voice says. The hair on your arms stands up; he knows your name. He bends down, his face merely inches from yours. “Now, will you come willingly or must I use force?”

You don’t answer, but he takes your lack of movement for one. He scoops you up in his arms, and he's very warm. He makes sure the blanket is still wrapped around you, and he gently touches your forehead, rendering you unconscious. 

You slowly wake back up, and you notice how comfortable the bed you're laying in is. The sheets are soft and smell clean. Your eyes slowly open to the light, and you find yourself in a fairly barren room. As you slowly sit up, a very handsome man rushes over. His appearance was certainly ethereal and non human.

"Be careful, that spell can make a bear stay down. Easy," He says, obviously concerned for you as he places his hand on your back to help you sit up. "How are you feeling?" He asks, searching your eyes. 

You can't help but blush as you look away. "Fine, I suppose. I would rather be home," you say, finding a window to look outside. 

"Well… this is your new home. I hope you will learn to enjoy it," he says, standing up. "There is a bath waiting for you in the room over. I suggest you go now. Someone will bring you breakfast. There is a festival tonight that your presence is required at." He informs you, opening a door to the bathroom. 

"What kind of festival? I've not heard of one this time of year…" you ask, getting out of bed. "And who are you?" 

"Oh! I'm so sorry! My name is Yukhei, Wong Yukhei," Yukhei says. "I'm normally called Lucas, but please, call me Yukhei." 

As you get out of bed, he explains, “The festival is for us. There has to be a ritual so you can be with me.” Yukhei walks over and takes your hand, helping you stand. “Because we, as creatures of the fey, live longer, there is an ancient ritual that we must perform so you can stay with me as my wife.” 

You stumble at his words, and he effortlessly leads you to the bathroom, where hot water was waiting for you. You aren’t sure what to say, and it doesn’t bother him. 

“I’ll leave you here. I will see you tonight. Please, be careful and do not leave this building without me. It isn’t safe for you out there.” Yukhei warns you, kissing your knuckles before leaving you alone. 

Hours later, you’re dressed in a dress that seems to be made of pure moonlight. The silver reflects every light, and the dress both hugs your body and leaves room for easy movement. It has long, flowing sleeves and a slight train that follows you out of the room you learnt was to be your bedroom- shared with Yukhei, of course. 

You found him waiting by the front door, looking even more handsome in his suit. He has you hold onto one of his arms as he opens the door. 

"Whatever you do," Yukhei warns you, "don't let go of my arm and try not to look any of them in the eyes. If you get scared, just hold closer to me. I'm not only their leader, but a high elf. I'm stronger than them, so don't worry." 

You nod, not understanding why he was saying such silly things, but deciding to agree nonetheless. 

You walk through a brilliant garden, surprised at how many flowers were blooming even though it was not in them. Once you exited the main gate, many different types of creatures greeted you. Most seemed to be having fun, and were greeting you with bowing and murmurs of “your majesty.” You heard music the closer you got to the festival, and the creatures were both of your nightmares and dreams. 

All sorts of mythical creatures had gathered, from elves and faeries to oni and tengu, and other types of yokai. Your grip on Yukhei tightened as you made your way to the riverside. Lanterns lit your pathway, and Yukhei remained a steady guide so you wouldn’t trip. You stop by an empty basin, and the music fades away into the wind.

An elderly nekomata steps forward from the crowd, making its way to your feet. The two-tailed cat purrs and rubs itself against you, doing the same with Yukhei. 

“He is accepting you on behalf of the others,” he whispers in your ear. 

A kodama or anito, you aren’t quite sure which, comes over to you, carrying a small bowl above its head. The little creature fills it with water from the river, then offers it to Yukhei. He begins to fill the basin with the help of it, acting rather solemn as he lets your arm go. When he does, you feel vulnerable and hyper-aware of all the creatures surrounding you that could easily kill you if they wished.

The nekomata returns, leaping upon the basin. It drops an odd assortment of herbs into the basin, and the water starts to tint to a light purple. 

An elf appears before you with an ornate knife on a cushion. Fear chilled your spine as Yukhei smiled softly, but you couldn’t read what was in his eyes. He took the knife and brought it to his finger, gently slicing the skin. Three drops of blood join the water, and it causes ripples upon the smooth surface. You gasp as Yukhei does so, but when you look up, the elf was already bandaging his finger. 

A faerie brings you an intricately carved wooden cup, and you take it as offered. 

“Dip it in and drink,” Yukhei whispers. 

You look at him and raise an eyebrow, wondering what it would taste like. You do as he says, and are surprised at the taste. It’s certainly like a tea, with a hint of mint in it. You drink the entire cup before looking at him expectantly. 

He smiles softly and takes the cup, handing it to the faerie. 

You suddenly begin to feel nauseous, but also extremely hot. You feel sick, and you know your feet won’t keep you up much longer.

Before you can fall, Yukhei sweeps you off your feet. He takes off his shoes and yours, carrying you into the river. You suddenly fear that he will drown you, but he keeps you in his arms. The water cools you down, and you begin to feel as though you drank too much alcohol. Dizzy, you rest your head against his muscular chest. 

“Shh, I’ve got you, baobei,” he assures you. 

You blush as you realize you had groaned in pain, and look away to the full moon. Yukhei gently trickles the water onto your forehead, then gently kisses your temple. 

“That’s it here. Let’s go home, okay?” Yukhei asks, and you nod in response, too tired to disagree. 

He carries you, both of you soaking wet, back to what you realize is a castle. He walks you to your bedroom, which had a small fire lit so the room was warm. 

"There's one last thing to compete the ritual," he tells you, beginning to take off his wet clothes. 

"Please enlighten me, because I have no clue what any of that was about. I mean, I drank your blood!" You say, feeling more clear headed now. 

"It makes you immortal, or near so. Like I said, you need to be a suitable partner for me. Everything was perfect except your mortality. And to finish it, well, we have sex," he explains. 

Your snark immediately fades into surprise, and you look at him blankly. "What?" You ask.

Yukhei grabs a warm towel as he undresses and dries off, causing you to look away. "We have sex. You are my wife. I know some human customs, and women don't get shamed for sleeping with their husband," he says. 

You don't really know how to respond, and Yukhei doesn't push you any. He takes a towel and starts drying you off, messaging your wet hair into it. 

"Can I at least undress you so you can wear something dry? It's not safe to get sick after that ritual," Yukhei explains, hesitating with his hands at the ties of your dress.

"Yes, but explain how it isn't safe," you bargain. 

Although you cannot see him behind you on the bed, he nods. You feel his fingers begin to untie and loosen the dress, as he explains. "The ritual itself is dangerous, as it alters the person's mortality and changes them physically. During this time, you are both extremely weak and impressively strong. Your immune system is forced to lower in order for this change to occur, which means you can get sick easier. And that also means you being sick would be more dangerous. Especially if it turns into a worse sickness." 

With warm, gentle touch he pulls down the sleeves and dress, and you were suddenly glad he was behind you. Yukhei takes the towel and wraps it around you, and you stand up, letting the dress fall off. He gently rubs you dry, avoiding you private areas. 

"Why did you choose me?" You ask, still avoiding the topic of sex. 

He smiles and pulls you back on the bed next to him, keeping one of your hands in his. "Do you really not remember?" Yukhei laughs, causing you to tilt your head in confusion. "When we were little, we would play together in the woods. After your school and my lessons, we would play all sorts of games." 

"But that child's name was Lucas… and he was my imaginary friend," you say in disbelief. 

Yukhei laughs once again, shaking his head. "I told you already, I'm often called Lucas. We met when you slipped into the creek. I helped you get out and rescued your shoe from the mud." 

Your eyes light up as you remember the incident, and a sudden wave of relief washes over you. People thought you were crazy over this friendship, as there was no one named Lucas in town. 

You have an urge to lean in and kiss Yukhei, so you do. His lips were soft against yours, and he gladly kissed you back. 

"I'm guessing you believe me?" He asks with a smirk. 

"Shut up and kiss me," you respond, letting him pull you closer. This prompts you to straddle his lap and pull on his hair. 

He gladly does so, his hands gripping your hips firmly, but gently. You try to get your tongue to explore his mouth, but he utterly dominates you. After what was nearly an hour of kissing he pulls away. Yukhei gently rubs his thumb across your cheekbone, his hand cupping your face. Despite being extremely hard against your thigh, his words were tender and his eyes serious.

"Do you want to keep going, or do you want to stop?" Yukhei asks. "Either way it's up to you, Baobei." 

"Baobei?" You softly ask, the term unfamiliar. 

"Baby, my baby," he whispers lovingly. Your heart melts at his tenderness, and you know you give in. You're helpless against his charms. 

"Yukhei," you begin, "I- I want you to keep going. I'm sure of it." 

He doesn't question your words, and he goes back to kissing you. Yukhei guides your hips down, grinding on his muscular thigh to give you friction. He holds you up by your thighs, laying you on the bed with his lips still on yours. Yukhei only pulls away to take off the rest of your dress. 

You consider hiding yourself from him, but you get mesmerized by the look he was giving you. It was one of pure admiration and desire. 

"Baobei… you're gorgeous," he whispers, covering your body with his. Yukhei kisses your lips briefly before moving down your neck. He bites and sucks marks onto your neck, causing soft gasps to escape you. One of Yukhei's hands ghosts up your body and he begins to knead your breasts, pinching your nipple. He moves his mouth the the free one, nipping and sucking until the skin bloomed colors. Yukhei then shifted and gave the same attention to the other one, electing many soft moans from you. 

You could feel your thighs getting slick with your wetness, and he hadn't even touched you there yet. You blush as his mouth travels between the valley of your breasts. Yukhei moves and settles between your legs, holding them open as he gazes at your womanhood. 

"Fuck, you're pussy is so wet for me already," he groans, diving right in with a long lick of your juices. He moans again, adding, "and you taste amazing." 

You tense and pull away from him, but Yukhei grips your hips firmly and growls, "Behave for me. If you don't stay still I will tie you down." 

You gasp as he goes back to eating you out, his tongue thrusting into you as his thumb rubbed your clit. Yukhei moans into you, and the vibrations make you realize the building pressure in your stomach that was threatening to collapse. 

You gasp softly and grab at the sheets, and Yukhei smirks against your thighs. He inserts a finger into you, searching for your spot. When he finds it he knows by how you immediately try to close your legs. 

"Baobei," Yukhei growls, pushing your legs open again as he continues thrusting into you, relishing how you come closer to your high. 

Yukhei watches as he adds another finger into you, groaning at the obscene wet noises. He sucks in your clit, teasing the bud between his teeth. 

You let out a sob of pleasure as you orgasm harshly, and Yukhei gladly laps it up. Your legs shake as you try to ground yourself, taking deep breaths. 

"Are you okay, Y/N?" He softly asks, his clean hand touching your cheek. 

You nuzzle into his hand, nodding. He smiles at how cute you are, his thumb running across your lips. 

"Open," he firmly commands. 

You do as he asks, arousal shooting straight to your core. He puts his fingers in your mouth, the ones covered in your juices. 

"Suck." 

You do, blushing at tasting yourself. "Good girl," Yukhei praises, his voice husky and deeper. 

He then stands up and removes the towels, baring your body and his more fully to each other. Your mouth waters at the sight of his toned body and his happy trail. Your eyes widened at his cock, proudly erect and weeping precum. Yukhei smirks at your reaction before joining you back on the bed, making himself comfortable between your legs. 

"Are you okay with this?" He asks once more, and you begin to see the magic swirling in his eyes. 

You nod, and he raises an eyebrow.

"Words, Baobei," he growls, teasing your entrance with the tip of his cock, getting himself slick with your juices. 

"Yes, please yes, fuck," you breath out, biting your lip to hold back your moans.

Yukhei grins and spits onto his hand, gathering it and your juices to coat himself. He eases himself into you, slowly watching as your face contorts. Once he's fully inside of you, he forces your mouth open with his thumb and spits. 

"Swallow like a good girl. You're mine. All mine," Yukhei says firmly, starting to thrust into you.

You nearly choke as you swallow, his cock filling you perfectly. One of his hands finds your waist as his lips begin to suck on your neck. You let out pleasured moans, your nails taking down his back. 

"Yukhei~" you moan, accidentally clenching on him. 

This causes him to bite you harder before looking you in the eyes. "You're doing so good for me, Y/N. You look so pretty when I fuck you good," he says. "Are you gonna cum on my cock like a good girl?" Yukhei asks, reaching a hand between your bodies to rub your clit. 

You moan louder and nod, the coil snapping once again. Your vision blackens once again, and your legs feel like jelly. You feel yourself clenching tightly around him as he continues to thrust. 

Yukhei suddenly stills and groans, a warmth filling you as he cums inside of you. He thrusts weakly a few more times, his cum going straight into your womb. You whine, sensitive now. 

Yukhei gently and sweetly kisses your lips before slowly pulling out of you. "Can you go for one more round, Baobei? I want to fill your pretty pussy with my cum." 

You nod slightly and he smirks. He kisses your lips gently once more, before attacking your neck. You whine in pain as he bites your soft flesh, and you can tell that you will be bruised. 

He gently turns you over, guiding you into the position he wanted. “Go on all fours,” Yukhei coos, helping prop you up with pillows. “Let me see you,” he coos, kissing your cheek and down  your back. 

Yukhei puts his hands on your waist, teasing your soaking core with his cock again.  You softly whimper and press back against him.

“Even as worn out you still want more? Hmm, gorgeous?” he says, his sweet words contrasted as he smacks your ass, hard. 

You yelp and nod, moaning as he slides his length into you. “So wet already,” he moans, his grip tight on your hips. 

He goes immediately into a brutal pace, leaving you a moaning mess as he chases his high. You moan loudly, crying out in pleasure as he repeatedly hits your g spot. Yukhei reaches down and rubs your clit, and soon you can tell you’re going to cum again. 

He feels you clenching around him and he slows his thrusts. “Not yet, baby girl. Not yet,” Yukhei commands you. “Keep being a good girl and wait for me.” His thrusts then get harder than before, and you know his hands will leave bruises. 

“Please?” you whine, begging him to let you orgasm as you struggled to keep it off. 

“No.” 

“Please?” you sob, tearing up as your body tenses up. 

“Not yet.”

You whine but stay quiet, your eyes screwed shut. Suddenly, your orgasm can’t be stopped as he rubs your clitorsis, and you feel and odd release. You look back at Yukhei who is grinning and groaning, stilling himself as he cums in you.

“Fuck. You just squirted,” he tells you, thrusting limply a few more times as he gently soothes your back, kissing your cheek. 

Your eyes widen in surprise and you blush, biting your lip some. Yukhei laughs at you lovingly, pulling out and watching his cum leak out of you, satisfied. 

You groan softly as he helps you roll over, feeling his sticky seed between your thighs. He disappears for a moment and returns wearing boxers, holding a shirt and a damp washcloth. 

You whine as he spreads your legs, trying to protest but too tired to speak. 

“Let me clean you, Baobei. Then I need to take you to the bathroom. You need to use the bathroom before you sleep. I don’t want you getting sick, remember?” Yukhei gently coos, cleaning you off and helping you into his shirt. 

He then picks you up bridal shower and brings you to the bathroom, patiently waiting for you outside to be done. Once over with, he takes you back to bed and cuddles with you. 

“Are you feeling okay?” he gently asks, kissing your forehead as you snuggle closer to his chest. 

“Yeah.” 

“Tired?”

“Yeah.” 

“Good.”  You slap him, knowing he was smirking playfully at you. 

When you wake up in the morning, Yukhei had already left. Two female elves or fey of some sort of humanoid form come in. They help you get out of bed, giggling to themselves when they see you. 

“What?” you ask them, and they quickly stop their giggling. 

“Nothing, your majesty,” the first one says, helping you stand.

Your steps are uncertain as they lead you towards the wardrobe, helping you stand before the mirror. They go and talk about which dress to choose, and you eye yourself in the mirror. Immediately, you notice the blooming hickeys on your neck and down your collarbone. You blush as you pull off the shirt, looking at the bruises on your body. 

“Admiring my handiwork?” you hear Yukhei say from the doorway.

[twstedoven]

The Bucket List Azul x Reader Chapter 2

Unedited 

word count: 1,177

Author’s note;

I'll be honest with you; I didn't have a plan with the chapter before, but now I have the story's base after a lot of thinking. I'm sorry for the unnecessary dialogue. It helps me understand the characters more (even if they seem occ), and for the unedited chapters, I'm currently trying to find someone to beta the story, which will probably be my sister in the end. On a final note, this story will not focus on the current timeline of the game. As always, constructive criticism is helpful. :)

Azul Ashengrotto.

A second-year student gaining the sturdy position of Octavinelle head dorm leader. It wasn't an easy gain without a doubt, particularly directly placed in a dorm known for its admirable intelligence and cunning peers. However, thanks to a set of eels, Azul ravage his opponents as if it was his last meal. Now they were all in an agonizing account for the rest of their worthless school era. His personality reeked of greed, wanting more but misery for his enemies, illustrated like the true sea witch herself.

Nonetheless, who was there to butcher their morality? His tormentors all had a taste of his wrath. Why attack the gullible? Simple.

To manifest power.

To be on the peak of the social hierarchy.

To attain his happily ever after.

Azul smirked at the trembling students avoiding his perspective. Merging with the background as they should be. In his shaft of hearing, the occasional whisper drift by, some gossip perked his interest in his latest victim's settlement.  

"Poor guy." 

"He didn't deserve that." "But, you already know not to interpose an agreement with him."

What a good day indeed.

Established in their usual meeting place (name), chewed on a low priced stale bread from the cafeteria bargain bin, with an insufficient occupation required to clean an extensive college structured as Sleeping Beauty castle was not an effortless task. She pushed herself to be stingy with each pay. Peculiarly with a specific feline demanding tuna in an instant.  (name) sensed her youth fleeing. "would you like some of my lunch?" An adolescent lavender haired boy questioned. She glanced at the untouched lavish lunch in envy. A well-made lambada engulfs in beef and red wine jus, lastly topped with little parsley.  The inside of her stomach screamed for a godly meal. Repressing down a gulp, her eyes blinked at the marble ground. "Its alright, Epel. I'm already full." "No, I insist! Vil absurd diet is making me go insane. I need to eat something filled with a lot of oil and fat." he shoved his plate in front of her, wary about his surroundings. Epel mainly focused on his upperclassman Vil who was reapplying his foundation. 

"Thanks, Epel! I was getting tired of bargain food." Grim exclaimed. Grabbing the tray in his tiny paws, he consumed the meal in a flash, letting out an air of gas from his mouth. Grim smiled at his satisfying feed. "Oi, you didn't save some for (name)! You greedy cat!" Deuce growled, clutching his fork a bit too hard. "Hey, she did say she was full." "that doesn't mean you should eat the entire meal!" he hastily rose from his chair, glaring. Enough of watching (name) sighed, turning away from the ongoing dispute.  Twisted Wonderland cafeteria was booming then usual; students from all dorms sat with friends enjoying the pleasant atmosphere. She flicked her eyes at a group of hunch boys brutally typing away on their keyboards. No conversation was initiated aside from the occasional mutter—Ignihyde dorm. ��The lighting shone on them was dim, and their table seemed to be discluded from the rest;  how fitting for their personality. 

A loud smash appeared behind. As (name) turned around, a student with abnormal ears shaped like a cat gripped his peer collar.  He raised his fist, threatening to punch him; his friends around him cheered on. This wasn't unusual as the Savanaclaw campus consisted of hotheaded students. However, the female was thankful that Jack wasn't anything like that.  

Scanning once more, her eyes latch onto a pair of shade cerulean pupils—a male with silvery-blue hair touch with a charming smile leer at her.  Resting his head in his right hand, it was like he was asserting her as his next prey. Azul Ashengrotto. 

Was he staring at her the entire time? How come did she not sense it? Is he going to kill her? Shaking out those thoughts away (name) went back to focus on Grim and Deuce bickering, and they appeared to move on to the next matter. Joining with their conversation, she couldn't but help to glance back up at him. Just something about made him exhilarating, like a drug she never wants to finish. Azul let out a radiant grin, expecting her to look at him a second time. Blushing at being caught in action, (name) rigidly rise from her seat. "(name)?" Epel inquired. "toilet," "I need to use the toilet."  

She swiftly trudges away from them, wanting to bolt from Azul's presence.  Bumping into some students along the way, she hastily mumbles an apology, determines to arrive at the women's bathroom.

"Azul..."

Now outside the cafeteria in an open hallway. Not many students were present, still relishing their lunch hour. 

"Azul."

His name kept repeating in her head. Up ahead was the toilet.

"Azul"

(name) fling the entrance wide open. A clean, pristine bathroom was obviously unoccupied as she was the only female in the school. She hugged her arms while her legs cede to the cold tiled floor. Who knew one simple boy could clutter her thinking.  It wasn't like she was in love with the male. They even haven't had a proper conversation yet or stand in terms of friends. Simple entice with his mysterious character. She needs to manage her emotions, now that her classmates witness that little scene. After cleaning herself up, (name) left the lavatory sighing, beginning her journey back to them.

"That was quite the little outburst you cause shrimpy~."

A familiar voice seizes her attention. Leaning against the wall was Floyd next to him was his brother. The Leech twins. The vulnerable female didn't reply; instead, she made an effort of a glare. "Don't look at us like that. It makes me want to gobble you up." He saunters his way towards her, successfully backing her against the wooden door. "Leave her alone, Floyd, if Azul finds out you were playing with his toy, then he'll throw a little fit." The other twin inform. 

 "What did they mean by a toy?" she silently inquiry. As if reading her mind, Jade answers. "Please ignore that statement, but our dear friend Azul would like to talk to you." He pulled his unpredictable brother away from her, giving the girl some space to breathe. "Why?" (name) integrate all of a sudden filled with a surge of courage. "because he can sense a hopeless little girl in need of help." "that doesn't mean anything." 

"ah, but it's true" From what I've heard, you're a primary target  of bullying and currently lacking money for a proper meal." Jade then handed a small printed card detail with information. "come visit the Mostro lounge if you're interested." The little paper was in her fingers, rereading the particulars. "how do you know that I'll come?" "my, my, you do ask so many questions," Floyd revealed. "Let's say we just know." Both of them gave her one last smile before heading in the opposite direction of the cafeteria.

"Azul Ashengrotto, the great witch, able to grant any wishes."

She read out loud.

[fics-and-shits]

Marvel Fic Recs

***smut

Tom Holland x Reader

Oneshots

The Interview (Actress!Reader) by @bigballofstress​

You’re Tom Holland’s costar and girlfriend since the end of Civil War. Usually, you go on interviews together, but this time, you are requested alone on Ellen.

Cinderella (Actress!Reader) by @thewackywriter​

Who knew that going to another boring award show and walking around barefoot would lead her right to her Prince Charming?

Drop the Mic by @young-and-bitchy​

You’re in a rap battle with Tom Holland. 

Vlogs by @spideyyeet​

Being in the vlog squad was dope af but having David Dobrik run into Tom Holland and getting him to surprise you was a whole other thing. Now let’s see what’s it like to have Tom meet the vlogsquad and be with the girl that’s making him rethink some decisions.

Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Oneshots

Send to All Pranks (Actress!Reader) by @thrandybaby​

You’re a British actress appearing on the Michael McIntyre Chat Show, but hilarity ensues at your expense when you accept the challenge to play the infamous ‘Send to All’ prank.

Morning After by @mindrunningfree​

After a drunken night out, you wake up in a stranger’s bed, and on a scale of one to ten, your level of confusion is a fifteen.

Platonic!Avengers Cast x Reader

Oneshots

Beliefs (Teen!Reader) by @supersoldierfreak​

A group press conference with the Avengers cast where you reveal your political views.

Sleeping Beauty by @chrixa​

You didn’t know that the Avengers cast can also be called sneaky paparazzi. Also you love sleeping. Who doesn’t, right?

Handmade With Love by @capsicletho​

Christmas is the time to give your loved one some gifts. What happens when you give your famous second family something handmade?

Clint Barton x Reader

Series

Agent 41 (Agent!Reader) by @nacho-bucky​

An easily-distracted SHIELD agent with a sweet tooth and too many pairs of sneakers. Nothing ever quite works out the way she wants. But hey - it does work out! Usually

Peter Parker x Reader

Oneshots

Clingy Peter Parker by @spider-bih​

A clingy Peter Parker and the reader loves it

Anything For You by @pparkerwrites​

Introducing Peter Parker, dog whisperer by day, Spiderman and dog whisperer by night.

Series

Far From You Trilogy and Blurbs by @hey-marlie​

Y/N Stark is really not here for this European school vacay because in this post-endgame world, she’s mourning the loss of her dad. But one (1) sticky boi Peter Parker is just trying to be the friend he once was while also trying not to flirt too much because if she rejects him (which she wouldn’t, not that he knows that) while they’re in Venice, holy hell he’ll just pitch himself off the gondola right then and there.

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Oneshots

Sparks (Enemies to Lovers AU) by @sunriserose1023​

You and Bucky started off on the wrong foot and it’s just been downhill ever since, and the last time you gave him a chance, you ended up with five broken ribs. It’s just not meant to be.

Cheap Thrills by @avengerofyourheart​

A bet within the Avengers becomes a battle of the sexes, with you at the center of it. Who will be victorious and could it somehow help you snag the man of your dreams?

Air B&E (Enemies to Lovers AU)  by @avengerofyourheart​

When a mission requires close proximity with your least favorite teammate, you try to make the best of it, but a change in plans adds new challenges and possibly a new opportunity.

Notebook (College AU) by @softlybarnes​

 Bucky and Y/N sit next to each other all semester. They never talk to each other, until one day they do. 

The Florist  // The Beekeeper // The Pumpkin Carver (Enhanced!Reader) by @softlybarnes​

Bucky and Y/N make flower crowns together. Both reveal more than they plan to.

Freckles (Drunk!Reader) by @softlybarnes​

The Reader likes Bucky’s freckles a whole lot.

The Regular by @brooklyn-boy​

Bucky Barnes is a regular at your bar. He comes in, he makes sure trouble stays away, and then he leaves. This really wouldn’t be a problem if he weren’t so good looking and you weren’t totally in love with him.

Fourth Time’s the Charm by @brooklyn-boy​

Bucky remembers the three times he meets a certain thief, and is blindsided by the fourth.

Trepidation by @brooklyn-boy​

You’re rescued from HYDRA by the Avengers, only to be met with a ghost of the past in the form of Bucky Barnes. They tell you he was brainwashed, that it wasn’t him, but you aren’t so sure.

Blink Twice by @brooklyn-boy​

Zemo kidnaps Bucky and injects him with some sort of drug that paralyzes him and takes away his ability to speak. He’s meant to die alone, in a ditch like he was supposed to back in 1944. But then someone finds him…

Uptown Boy (30s AU) by @brooklyn-boy​

You’ve spent so long pretending to be a selfish, conceited, spoiled little rich girl that somewhere along the way, the line was blurred. Now faced with an ultimatum, you have to decide if your pride is worth the only person who’s ever truly loved you.

The Scoop (POC Journalist!Reader) by @brooklyn-boy​

Bucky Barnes laments the fact that every single person he cares about is a dumbass when it comes to their own personal safety. He also hates every single journalist, newscaster or reporter he’s ever met until you.

Who Are You Trying to Fool by @notimetoblog​

A perfect chance of messing with new recruits presents itself to Bucky. Can he pull it off or will you foil his plan?

We’re Gonna Need a Bigger House by @sunmoonandbucky​

You find the courage to tell Bucky about your latest ultrasound.

But Here I Am (Agent!Reader) by @sunmoonandbucky​

After years of being separated from the Avengers, Bucky finds you during a job.

Take it Easy, Romeo by @sunmoonandbucky​

The Soldat remembers one person through it all.

***A+ (Dark!Professor Bucky x CollegeAged!Reader)by @chixkencxrry​

You thought that all your credits had been complete, but a glitch in the system forces you to take a summary course in order for you to graduate. Insert Professor Barnes, your history professor who’s a total ass.

A Year of Firsts (College AU) by @whitewolfbumble​

Part One // Part Two

It wasn’t supposed to be a year of firsts, but then you met Bucky and everything started to fall into place.

13 Cats and a Sorceress by @kentuckybarnes​

Beings from another dimension start to invade New York City, and cats invade Avengers Tower.

Sounds Like a Personal Problem (Law Firm AU) by @kentuckybarnes​

Part One // Part Two

“Remember that favor you owe me?” “Uh-oh”

Pulling Rank (Agent!Reader) by @kentuckybarnes​

A mission has gone badly, and you have a reckoning.

Start With My Name (Medic!Reader) by @kentuckybarnes​

Part One // Part Two

Things get out of hand at a strike mission against Hydra, and you’re responsible for cleaning up the mess.

It Doesn’t Mean Anything (Until it Does) (Agent!Reader) by @cordytriestowrite​

The things that you and Bucky do don’t mean anything so just drop it okay?

Vulnerability (Modern AU) by @mareli-carter​

“We’re both in small claims court and I got into a huge fight with the person suing me but you stepped in to hold me back before security got there.”

Important by @mareli-carter​

“I did that annoying thing where I put loads of smaller boxes inside one big box, and you’re getting really mad, but I can’t wait to see your face when you open the smallest box.”

Two Punks In Love (40s AU) by @jaamesbbarnes​

Years go by but the way you and Bucky care for each other doesn’t change. You’re still the punk who starts fights with anyone breathing in the wrong direction, he’s still a charming little fucker.

Bulletproof (Agent!Reader) by @jaamesbbarnes​

You and Bucky are the most competitive little shits there ever was.

Fair Play (Agent!Reader) by @jaamesbbarnes​

After a rough mission, you and the team go to Coney Island for some fun. Still injured, you can’t go on the rollercoaster with the others so Bucky decides to keep you company and to make your day as memorable as possible.

Saving the Day by @jaamesbbarnes​

On your way back home, you are being followed by a couple of creeps. When your eyes fall on the most impressive and handsome Avengers, you don’t think twice and find yourself a fake boyfriend and savior.

I’m Not Going Anywhere by @jaamesbbarnes​

Working for Stark isn’t always a walk in the park, it’s exhausting. But a certain super soldier and his constant flirting make it bearable. 

Emergency Room (Doctor!Bucky) by @jaamesbbarnes​

Who would have thought that going to the ER could made a bad night turn pretty nicely?

Series

Holiday Heist (Thief!Bucky, Modern AU) by @avengerofyourheart​

When the art gallery you manage is robbed on Christmas Eve, you suspect the handsome stranger who flirted with you earlier in the day, but instead of involving the authorities, you take matters into your own hands with surprising consequences.

Flour Girl (Enemies to Lovers AU) by @avengerofyourheart​

Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? 

Playing With Fire (Modern AU) by @sunriserose1023​

Some things just do not mix. Oil and water. Fire and gasoline. You and Bucky Barnes. When it was good, it was great, but when it was bad, it destroyed everything in its path. You’d tried–both of you had–but some things just aren’t meant to be. A year after your break up, Bucky gives you a call, and you willingly dive headfirst back into his orbit. You set boundaries this time, put up walls, determined to keep yourself from being burned again. You’re not about to let him get too close. Only problem? Bucky didn’t get that memo.

***Incubus (Incubus!Bucky) by @after-avenging-hours​

When some of the best sex of your life leads to the unveiling of a world you barely even knew existed, you know you’re in a heap of trouble. James Buchanan Barnes is the kind of man that fills your deepest and darkest fantasies, mainly because he is one. When emotions get involved in a relationship that’s been founded on sex, there’s no turning back. And honestly, you’re not even sure if you want to.

***Disney Corruption by @after-avenging-hours​

Bucky joins you for your late-night Disney movie sessions.  It’s difficult for him to get through them without finding the sexual innuendos

***Hunter!Bucky by @after-avenging-hours​

Bucky is part of the hunting party for the village.  One day, he catches you in the woods, long after you should be tucked away, safe in the village.

Heartbeat (Soulmate AU) by @after-avenging-hours​

Soulmate AU where your heartbeat matches the beat of your soulmate’s; they speed up together, slow down together, skip at the same time, but that means they also stop together… 

I’ll Be Seeing You by @brooklyn-boy​

The Howling Commandos come across a tortured Italian woman in the winter of 1944. With only rudimentary means of communication, Sergeant Bucky Barnes still somehow finds himself falling in love.

Siren’s Song by @brooklyn-boy​

The Avengers come across the profile of an enhanced individual, missing and presumed still under HYDRA’s control. With the power to bend anyone’s will with just a command, the team decides to prioritize freeing this individual. But trust is hard to earn from a former HYDRA asset. Nobody knows this more than Bucky.

Clan of Three (Mandalorian!Bucky) by @brooklyn-boy​

Bucky Barnes is a Mandalorian bounty hunter. All he has to do is take this kid and her glorified babysitter back to the client and be done with it. That’s it. Simple?

Revival by @brooklyn-boy​

Bucky returns to his childhood home only to discover its inheritor struggling to return it to its former glory. Luckily for you, Bucky’s memory isn’t that bad.

Compromised by @brooklyn-boy​

As a Senator for New York, you’ve been fighting hard to have Sergeant James Barnes acquitted. An attempt on your life by a new terrorist sect brings you in contact with the Avengers themselves, and even closer to the man you’ve been working so hard to protect…

Uptown Girl (Millionaire!Bucky, Modern AU) by @brooklyn-boy​

Epilogue

Bucky Barnes is a bit of an eccentric millionaire. He lives alone, aside from his housekeeper/personal assistant. When his mother tells him he needs to get married or be cut off, Bucky lies and tells his mother that his long-suffering assistant is his fiance.

Out of Time by @brooklyn-boy​

On the run from HYDRA in 2023, you accidentally use your time-traveling technology to jump 80 years back in time. Safe for the time being and with Howard Stark vouching for the legitimacy of your time travel claims, you’re stuck in the SSR headquarters until you can fix your gear. Which wouldn’t be half as hard if a certain James ‘Bucky’ Barnes wasn’t so damn distracting…

Stereotypical (Model!Bucky, Modern AU) by @avasparks​

As a PA/secretary, you are all too familiar with the fantasies nearly all men share: banging their hot assistant. Former jobs haven’t worked out for you for that exact reason, and now starting out at a new company, as the secretary for the CEO of the hottest modeling agency in the country, you’re hoping this one will be different. But after meeting your new boss, Mr. J.B. Barnes, you’re not so sure if it will be. Then again, maybe Mr. Barnes is not as stereotypical as you think he is.

Sugar (40s AU) by @softlybarnes​

By a miracle of fate, Bucky Barnes does not fall off of the train. He does not spend decades as a brainwashed assassin. Instead, he goes home to Brooklyn to spend his life with a girl he adores, a snarky nurse that he met during the war.

Two Kingdoms (Royals AU) by @softlybarnes​

Y/N, set to be a queen, is taken on her wedding day by King James, the ruler of another land. At first glance, James’ Kingdom seems to be thriving but Y/N soon realizes something darker and more sinister is at work in James’ land. And she seems to be at the center of it.

City Love (CEO!Bucky, Modern AU) by @chrevastan​

You attend one of Natasha’s office parties against your will and end up meeting a charming stranger who turns out to be the person who runs the company.

Next to Me by @sgtjbuccky​

After an attempt on you and your identical twin’s life, your father calls in the Avengers for protection. Bucky soon realizes your father’s goal is solely to keep you sister safe, and decides that the times of doing the bidding of others are long gone, and takes your protection into his own hands.

Most Wanted (Thief!Bucky, Modern AU) by @sgtjbuccky​

The life you dreamed of wasn’t the one you lived. Day in and day out you tried to change the outcome, but somehow you always ended up right where you began. Fed up with it all, you wished upon a star and was granted with Bucky Barnes, and it wouldn’t take you long to realize that whatever mess you were about to get tangled up in, it would change your life entirely.

Merry and Married (Modern AU) by @sunriserose1023​

It’s been almost a year since the most humiliating moment of your life. You’ve done your best to move on—by literally moving across the country, starting a new job, and you’re finally starting to feel settled. That, of course, is when your bubblehead cousin sends you the invitation to her wedding—which is exactly one year to the day that you were left at the altar. You have to go, but you don’t have to go alone.

Astrophile (Firefighter!Bucky, Single Dad AU) by @all1e23​

Orion Rebecca Barnes’s favorite thing in the whole world (Besides her daddy of course) was spending hours after school in the bookstore by her house. Aunt Nattie takes her every time her dad has to work an overnight shift at the station and it’s her absolute favorite place. Plus, the owner GIVES her any book she wants because she’s the coolest girl Ori has ever met. It didn’t take long for Bucky to notice his daughter’s sudden interest in constellations and the large stack of astrology related books piling up in her room. He’s spent her entire life trying to teach her about the stars and where her name came from with little interest from his little comet and all of sudden she’s in love?

To Build a Home (Family AU) by @ussgallifreyfics​

The glimpses into a life Bucky never thought was possible for himself. A world where he would find someone who he could love and be loved in return - a person he could start a family with. This is how an ex-assassin navigates the world of parenthood.

Not Happening (Modern AU) by @notimetoblog​

An online dating site clearly makes a mistake when it matches you with the one person you cannot stand.

Hero For Hire by @delicatelyherdreams​

Tired of constantly being sat on the sidelines for missions, Bucky Barnes decides that he’s going to do his own hero work and offer his services to the public as a freelance “hero for hire.” He expects to be asked to rescue cats from trees or help little old ladies cross the street, but he doesn’t expect to get tangled up in your life. He definitely doesn’t expect to fall for you either. But, when you’re a hero for hire, you’ve gotta see the mission through.

<<p>Stray by @jaamesbbarnes​

When Bucky stumbles upon a stray cat near his building in Bucharest and takes him in, he doesn’t expect for his world to turn upside down.

Schlaflos (Rogers!Reader) by @mareli-carter​

Steve’s younger sister, a nurse during the Second World War, finds herself in Hydra’s possession after trying to help the Howling Commandos save Bucky.

The White Wolf (Mobster!Bucky) by @captain-ariel-barnes​

James “Bucky” Barnes is the most feared man in New York. What happens when a flower shop owner gets tangled up in his empire?

Sly as a Fox (Vigilante!Reader, SocialMedia AU) by @sunmoonandbucky​

After the blip, the Avengers continue on with business as usual.  But they soon find out that while they were away, someone took it upon themselves to do the job they left behind.

A Lesson in Love (College AU) by @buckyywiththegoodhair​

In which you’re assigned to write a story about romance, a subject you know nothing about, and Bucky, a hopeless romantic, offers you his assistance.

***Artistic License (Sugar Daddy AU) by @cametobuyplums​

Once upon a time in Paris, there was an aspiring creative down on her luck. What’s a beautiful young woman to do? Agree for the wealthy Bucky Barnes to be her Sugar Daddy, of course.

I’m With You (Modern AU) by @wkemeup​

When two strangers meet on a layover in the Charlotte Airport, they are sent on a whirlwind weekend filled with cancelled flights, painful questions over giant checkers, an ex-boyfriend’s wedding, and a confrontational graduation. They find that a lifetime can sit in the span of three days and it doesn’t take very long at all to fall in love.

Flowers Bloom (Soulmate AU) by @revengingbarnes​

Whenever someone is injured, flowers bloom on their soulmate at the area of the wound. You are born with flowers around your entire left shoulder.

Agent 28 (Agent!Reader) by @kentuckybarnes​

He’s a Soviet-trained assassin. You’re a secret agent. He has a thing for thigh holsters. You have a thing for his behind (who doesn’t?) But it’s all hush-hush. What shenanigans will the two of you get into to keep your affair concealed from the rest of the Avengers, all while you’re trying to save the world?

Howler & The Black Cat (Vigilante!Bucky x Vigilante!Reader) by @kentuckybarnes​

By day, you’re just another employee at Stark Tower. By night? A justice-seeker known as Black Cat. No one knows your secret, and certainly not your sometime partner in vigilante activity, sometime-pain in the butt Romeo, Howler. But no matter how hard he tries, you have no intention of giving in…

While You Were Sleeping (mentioned Steve Rogers x Reader) by @kentuckybarnes​

Mistaken as Captain America’s girlfriend following a near-death experience, you keep up the pretense under the suspicious eyes of his best friend, Bucky Barnes. But soon you find out that Steve Rogers isn’t all he’s supposed to be, and somehow, Bucky is so, so much more.

Don’t Sit Under the Apple Tree (40s!Bucky x OC) by @kentuckybarnes​

In 1941 Brooklyn, a young woman spends her nights sneaking out of her parents’ house to play jazz piano at clubs. Although she disguises herself to keep out of trouble, it doesn’t fool everyone.

Sugar Daddy’s (Modern AU) cowritten by @kentuckybarnes​ and @nacho-bucky​

Suave, confident, charming Bucky Barnes has a deep dark secret – and you, a small-town investigative journalist, are determined to get to the bottom of it. What lurks in his shadowed past, and how deeply will you be drawn in? Co-written with @caitfairwrites!

Seven-Thirty (Modern AU) by @nacho-bucky​

You were planning on a productive — if lonely — weekend, but the little girl across the hall has different ideas about how you and Bucky Barnes should be spending your time.

Lemon Pie (40s AU) by @nacho-bucky​

Moments measured in messy days and peaceful nights; in too-tart pies and slobbery toys. Bucky returns from war to find a life he never expected: a rich symphony of mishaps and mayhem and immeasurable love.

​

[dobrikburrito]

one day, j.w.

words: 2.7k

plot: you’re not giving Jeff the time of day, but you’re also low key hating when his attention is on some other girl.

disclaimer: angsty fluff? yeah.

⠀

From the past few weeks, the new joke of David’s vlogs was Jeff’s endless tries to get your attention, asking for dates, hookups, kisses, anything. Since Jeff was one of the best looking guys in the squad, David absolutely loved the fact that you were turning Jeff, of all people, down. He was a good sport, not minding the public rejection and actually finding it quite hilarious.

“You know what… One day, one day.” Jeff was looking directly at David’s camera, pointing at it. “One day I’ll finally get in her pants and it will make all this struggle worth it. It will be the best day of my life.”

Jeff was in the passenger seat, while Erin, Carly and you were in the back. With Jeff’s energetic manifesto, David was dying of laughter. Immediately pointing the camera to you, you were quick to give an emotionless response.

“I’d rather die,” You told the camera. Everybody in the car was screaming.

Jeff was laughing the most as well, he loved how hard you played. Not one used to be rejected like this, he was actually turned on by it. Loving to play around, what helped was the fact that he thought you were the prettiest and smartest girl he’s ever met. It did start as a joke, since he didn’t want to have one meaningless hook up with you and ruin your friendship. But now? The interactions have made him not stop thinking about you.

“Come on, be honest here. Why do you always reject me?” Jeff asked you directly. “Is it the botox rumours? Because I told you they were bullshit.”

You shrugged. “I guess I just don’t see what all the fuss is about.”

“Fuck.” Jeff oofed, but smiled, touching his chest. “My heart.”

See, you did find Jeff handsome. You did like his kind of humor and personality. He wasn’t bad. The mean responses were mainly something you knew David thrived for, but also a way of protecting yourself. You’ve been with guys like Jeff before. The pretty ones, the ones that everybody wants, the ones where all the prettiest girls would throw themselves at. You were cheated on by a guy like Jeff and you promised yourself not to ever fall into that trap again. Your heart was too vulnerable to even think about it. Besides, you’ve never hooked up with any of your friends from the squad. A fun kiss here and there, yes, but nothing more. You pride yourself in that, prioritizing your friendship with everyone. You’ve seen what could happen otherwise, like Todd and Corinna, for instance.

“You keep playing hard to get, babe.” Jeff told you for the cameras. “Like I said, one day I’ll show you what you’re missing.”

-

The next day, you were all in David’s room talking about life and careers. The topic on Jeff pursuing a stand-up comedy career was brought up since Jason had asked him to open his next Improv performance.

“Yeah, it’s hard man, it’s hard doing comedy like this, you know?” Jeff said, looking at David and then everyone else. “No, I look at myself in the mirror and I’m like I don’t like this guy, he’s too good looking.”

Everybody laughed at that line, which made Jeff go on, “I keep thinking… Maybe if I wasn’t so good looking I would actually have a chance with (Y/N).” The room laughed even more, everybody looking at you. “I know that’s the reason she won’t go on a date with me. Too much beauty in the way of our love.”

You were lying in the lovesac, looking at them, quickly facepalming after Jeff was done talking. You looked up to the ceiling and shook your head. “God… Now I know why you went to prison.”

Jeff bursted out laughing as well as everybody in the room. “Am I lying though? You never gave me one good reason why you wouldn’t date me, hook up with me or give me one tiny kiss.”

“Fine. I’ll give you ten reasons.” You sat down on the lovesac, looking at him.

“Oh boy. I regret it, I take it back. Don’t tell me.” Jeff hugged himself and laughed.

“No, no, no. You keep asking me, let me tell you!” You pointed at him. David was absolutely living for this interaction, laughing his ass off.

“Can you see the rage in her eyes? They’re in flames, man. I’m scared.” Jeff reasoned with David. “Don’t let her murder me.”

You tried really hard not to laugh and keep a straight face at Jeff’s reaction.

“The fact that I’m denying you is the only reason why you’re so interested, that’s one. You’re used to getting your way with girls, not used to being denied.” You started, pointing a finger. “You think I’m a challenge to be accomplished. You have a dozen Instagram models DMs waiting to be answered and you can get a hookup within the hour. You’re pretty and handsome and has a great body, we get it, it’s not hard for you to get girls.”

“Calm down, (Y/N), don’t go butchering the man.” Jason reasoned, but everybody, including Jeff, was laughing.

“You know, that’s funny.” Jeff pointed at you, now. “You say that like you’re not one of the prettiest girls in this city. And honestly, the denying part does make it a challenge for me, but I wouldn’t keep going if I wasn’t really interested in you as a person. I think you’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met. I’d be lucky to go on a date with someone like you.”

His words caught you off guard, speechless. The fact that you didn’t find any words to answer him made everything even more hilarious, because now Jeff had shut you up, which was an accomplishment on its own, one that no one had ever done before.

“That’s for sure the smartest-mouth in the city, and you shut her up, congratulations, Jeff.” Jason bumped fists with Jeff, laughing.

-

Another couple of days went by, David asked you to come to his house to film for the vlogs, but you had another meeting and could only arrive later. Once you did, you asked Natalie where everybody was and then headed to David’s bedroom once she informed you. The moment you walked inside, you saw David filming Jeff with Kelsey and Stass, and they were talking about his botox and the fact that he said he had it just to mingle with them.

You loved the girls, but you left the room, not exactly happy with the fact that someone else was having the snarky bits with Jeff for the vlog. You took your time out, grabbing a bottle of water and talking with Natalie.

You heard steps out of the room, the cameras were off and everybody was coming to the kitchen. “Oh hey, (Y/N)! I didn’t know you had arrived, why didn’t you join us?” David walked to where you were in the kitchen counter, giving you a quick hug.

“Oh don’t worry, Dave. I arrived and I saw you doing the bit, I didn’t want to bother.” You smiled at him.

“You’d never bother us.” David laughed and shook his head, walking away.

“Oh, there you are.” Jeff made his way towards you as well, and you saw the two girls sitting on the couch. “I thought you weren’t able to make it.”

Jeff came in for a hug and you quickly returned it, but also let go of him just as quick. When the cameras were off, everything was more chill and you actually got along with Jeff. The flirting was heightened for the cameras.

You looked away from him, a little upset, but trying to hide it. “Yeah, I had a meeting this afternoon, I was in the middle of it when David texted me.”

“Ooh, new brand deals?” Jeff joked lightly, actually interested in your life.

“Mm… Yeah, kinda. Don’t tell, it’s new yet, but I’m partnering up with Benny Blanco to record a single.” You looked back at Jeff. His eyes were surprised, but also with admiration.

“Oh wow, (Y/N), that’s huge!” Jeff whispered and you smiled softly. “Oh my God. I’m so happy for you! If anyone deserves this, it’s you. You’re so hardworking and talented, they’re lucky to have you.”

His kind words melted any annoyance you were holding onto before. “Thanks Jeff, that means a lot to me.”

“I’m here for you, okay? Anything you need. I know how you get anxious with big things coming up.” Jeff caressed your arm and looked into your eyes.

The sole fact that Jeff had noticed your anxiety whenever you felt pressured and the way he was making sure you felt supported now made you realize that maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought and was also completely different from your ex-boyfriend.

“Thank you. You’re a really good friend, Jeff.” You smiled after a deep breath. Despite the word friend disappointing Jeff a little, the fact that you went for a longer hug and kissed his cheek was enough to spark some hope.

You smiled at him and walked away when David called.

-

You turned the little cup of Tequila shot in your mouth, both you and Natalie knocking the cups on the wood table once you drank it out.

“Take it easy, ladies.” Scotty said, laughing.

You and Natalie looked at each other, making a face as if that was the dumbest suggestion ever.

“Every time Scott ask us to take it easy, we’ll take another shot.” Natalie suggested and you nodded immediately in agreement.

“Did someone say shots?” Zane was literally holding a platter of ten shots he had just bought for the whole group.

“That’s not helpful at all,” Scotty rolled his eyes and threw his hands up, in defeat.

Tonight was a moment of celebration. You had told everybody about the record deal and David had the idea for us to come party in a bar at Hollywood Boulevard. Feeling on top of the world with your career, you were happy. But something was deep down bothering you.

Having a direct view of the bar, you saw Jeff and Todd. As usual, Todd was hugging Olivia, his girlfriend, and they were talking with Jeff and this other brunette. Jeff was laughing loudly, having the time of his life. The girl would touch his arm while talking about something that was making him smile. At one point, the girl turned around to hug another friend and you saw how gorgeous she was. As much as you’d never like to admit, you were jealous and hurt. With absolutely no right to be, of course.

Taking one last shot, you pulled Natalie to the dancefloor, deciding that the best way to damp your feelings for Jeff was with loud music and alcohol. Singing your hearts out to every new pop song playing, you and Natalie were dancing together and having the best time, clearly heavily drunk.

You don’t know how much time had passed, but you felt a couple of hands coming on your waist from the back. About to turn to look, you heard a voice in your ear.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but you look even better when you’re drunk and dancing.” Jeff held your waist tight. “How many shots did you take?”

Turning around to face him, you tried your best to not look as drunk as you were. “Not as many as I’d like.”

“I think you’ve had enough for one night, (Y/N). How about I get you a bottle of water?” Jeff looked in my eyes with his deep brown ones, his intense stare making sure I knew he was going to take care of me.

The emotion in his eyes made you angry, somehow. The alcohol got the best of your emotions.

“What? Did your first option blow you off, so you had to give it a try with good old (Y/N)?” You said, rolling your eyes. “Where is she, Jeff? The pretty brunette you couldn’t stop smiling at?”

“Is that jealousy I sense?” His tone was playful, but only enraged you more.  

“Oh, you’d love that, wouldn’t you?” You scoffed, sarcastically. “There are no cameras here, Jeff, no need to pretend to be into me.”

“What makes you think I pretend?” Jeff was looking at you, studying you. You knew part of him was enjoying to see the blabbering that came out of your mouth. He knew the alcohol would probably make you talk way more than you were used to when sober. “Besides, if you must know, I was just talking with that girl. I never intended on going home with her.”

“Sure didn’t look that way to me, or to her, may I add.” You smiled ironically and looked away, not finding Natalie anywhere. You let go of his grasp on your waist to try to walk away.

“Why is it so hard for you to admit that you have feelings for me?” Jeff pulled you by the waist again, now in a quick movement, making sure your body was tightly close to his.

“That’s because I don’t have feelings for you.” You kept your stance, looking back into his eyes, angrily. “Stop wasting my time, Wittek. I’m not gonna be your next conquest.”

“Is that what you think you are to me? A conquest?” Now he was starting to get offended. “Do you really think so little of me?”

When you didn’t answer him, the silence only confirmed it. “Fine, (Y/N). You win. I won’t play this game anymore.” His hands let go of your waist and he shook his head, starting to walk away.

A wave of all the emotions in the world caught you at the same time. You couldn’t stop yourself from walking after him and taking his hand back. Looking back at you, he waited for something.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to…” You tried to say, barely able to form a proper sentence without feeling overwhelmed by your own feelings.

“Admit it. Admit that you feel the same way about me as I feel about you. Admit that you’re jealous about the girl I was talking to earlier. Admit that you can’t stop thinking about me. Admit it or I’ll leave, (Y/N).” Jeff walked closer, intensely looking at you.

When it took you a second, he had just decided to leave again. “I admit it.”

Jeff stopped on his tracks, looking at you. He wanted more.

“I admit that I’m jealous and that I hate seeing you with other girls. I admit that I’m a mess and I don’t know what I feel, but that I also can’t stop thinking about you. I admit that I’ve been hurt and that I’m scared.” You shrugged, biting your inner cheek. “I admit that you make me feel things I’ve never felt before and that it’s often easier to just deny it.”

You closed your eyes while saying the last few words. The moment you opened them to see Jeff, he touched your face with both of his hands, staring at your lips. When you didn’t refuse him again, he took his chance and kissed you with all of his soul.

His lips were soft and smooth on yours, you could feel the sparks and bells. You felt your body melting under his touch, especially when his tongue was on yours, as your mouths collapsed together, while he gave you the best kiss you’ve ever had. You held his shirt tightly in your hand, making sure he wasn’t going anywhere.

After your mouths parted, both of you completely breathless, Jeff looked at you, with the same eyes of admiration and passion you’ve seen before.

“I’ve waited so long, I’ve imagined this so many times… And it’s even better than I ever anticipated,” Jeff confessed, quickly giving you another soft kiss.

You smiled and pulled him close, throwing your arms around his neck, kissing him again.

“Does that mean you’ll actually go on a date with me now?” Jeff asked, holding you by the waist again.

“Don’t push it,” You joked. Jeff raised an eyebrow and kissed you intensely again, taking your breath away one more time. “Okay, yeah, we can go on a date.” You quickly changed your mind, making him smile.

[gaylorswiftvibes]

I am caffeinated and quarantined and ready to lay out all of my thoughts as to why Taylor has yet to come out, the obstacles that will have to be addressed before she comes out, and therefore create a timeline as to when she will come out and what that will look like. I don’t know about all of you, but I find myself constantly questioning why this is all happening. Why has Taylor not come out yet? Why does she purposefully leave so many clues if she doesn't want to come out yet? Does she enjoy making us feel insane like the sick masochist that she is? Why has it felt like she’s about to come out several times but then she backtracks? What’s complicating this process? How long will we have to wait? Over the years, Taylor has enjoyed watching other people attempt to piece together the story about her love life and understand who and what she writes about. However, when she comes out I do think she will want to set the record straight (ha) in as many ways as possible without damaging her reputation or the reputation of anyone with whom she has had any sort of relationship. However, before she can come out, she will need to be in an optimal situation with her masters, the best timing possible for maximum impact and best optics, and Karlie's reputation/life to not be destroyed in the process. 

This MANIFESTO of a blog post does presume several things. 

Taylor Swift and Karlie Kloss are both either bi or gay and both desire to come out publicly at some point.

They had a relationship.

They are likely still together. If not, they are still friends who care about the wellbeing of the other person and they are also in communication about koincidences. 

If they are together, they purposefully made their relationship private to protect both of them (mainly Karlie) and have more control over their public narratives after kissgate and significant public speculation that their "friendship" was something more. 

Karlie's relationship with JK is fake. Their marriage is not legal and there is likely a contract that provides prescriptive guidance for how she publicly portrays and discusses their relationship. This contract was likely made to provide Karlie with career opportunities and to provide JK with a beard- I do not believe that it is directly financial but it could be as well. 

It’s clear that Taylor first started wanting to come out after she had already reached incredible success. It is unclear how this timeline occurred. Was she already out to herself and her family before her career even began? Did she originally intend to remain publicly closeted for her entire career? Did she go through a period of denial about her sexuality? I think the closest thing to answers we have to questions like these are clues within her music. I do believe her motifs of blue, darkness, shade, and secrecy mainly lead back to being closeted while her motifs of gold, sun, daylight, and public affection reference being out and proud. Interpret what you will from her writing and the timeline of her albums. To me, this does point to Taylor originally wanting to remain intensely closeted (hence beards and their massive publicity and the potential for some of those relationships to have been “real”, although this is a conversation for another day), later on wanting to remain quite secretive about her relationships with women, and most recently yearning to not be secretive any longer. It seems like her music points to wanting to come out- so why hasn’t it happened yet?

She knows that coming out is going to generate attention and sales. It would make the most sense that she wants to own her masters at the same time that she comes out. This is a major factor of why we're still waiting and will likely be waiting until the rerecordings come out or she makes a deal to get ownership of the masters. The clues along the way are a way to maintain some level of authenticity, to create buzz, and to create The Story that will undoubtedly one day be highly scrutinized and publicized. I do believe that The Story (as I will be referring to it) has been in the works for quite some time and that Taylor does plan to shed light on it at the time that she comes out. The Story will include as much truth as possible about her relationships. After Miss Americana came out and Lana Wilson insinuated that there is more of her story to tell, I do think it is possible that she will release another documentary alongside her coming out. However, this is pure speculation and an extremely biased view as I personally believe that would be very sexy and cool of her.

Part of this marketing scheme does come off as distasteful, but I do think it's less about her wanting more money and more about her wanting SB to not profit off of this or have any control or say in the message that she wants to communicate. Ultimately, a large piece of this unknown timeline will be revealed before or in November 2020. If they haven't made a deal for Taylor’s ownership by then, I assume she will publicly reveal if she is rerecording and potentially begin to promote her rerecordings. Worth noting, it is my belief that if there is follow through with the rerecordings that they will be copycat records intended to sound as identical as possible. I am hopeful for the "original" versions to come to light one day (I want her midnights and she never loved me deserve premium recordings), but I don't think it would make much financial sense to release these instead of the copycats (we can hope for alongside, but it doesn't seem too likely). At the end of the day, the masters situation will resolve one way or another by the rerecording date.

We should also generally be aware of timing. Taylor is going to want to create maximum distance between her and any direct negativity before she comes out along with any other major events (pandemics, elections, big news stories, etc.). This is definitely the point I will harp on the least, but something to keep in mind if something happens that harms her public image down the line (please god not again). I’ve considered that she may want to keep her coming out to “use” when she starts to get less popular or when society stops “tolerating her being successful”, but I don’t think that will happen anytime soon. I do believe that it will coincide with an album release just because that would be sickening.

This is not to say that once the optimal situation for her masters is obtained, Taylor has no other reason to not come out. It doesn't matter whether she and Karlie are currently still together, The Story includes Karlie in an undeniable way since it is clear that they were in a relationship for a few years at the minimum. I really don't think Taylor would want to come out without being able to address their relationship. However, the narrative would completely depend on if they are still together or not. If they are no longer together, that may be more incentive to consider a possibility of her coming out without addressing Karlie. Since I personally believe they are still together, I will be addressing the potential narratives for Karlie from that perspective. 

One option to consider beforehand is the storyline that Karlie and Taylor were close friends but never together. They each have their own relationships that eventually end for unrelated reasons (meaning eventual JK divorce and oatmilk disappearance), then they rekindle their "friendship" and "start" a relationship around the time that Taylor comes out. I don't like this idea because it, in essence, defeats the purpose of The Story. If this is the time to come clean, be vulnerable, be honest, this is a significant lie to keep. And at the end of the day, the truth is in Taylor's discography. The albums point to a secret relationship, not just pining for a friend or whatever that storyline is.

The way I see it, once The Story is laid out, the two major narrative avenues are decided by claiming whether the Karlie JK relationship was real or not. If the choice is made to support its legitimacy, they could spin this relationship in a number of ways.

They could choose to portray it as on again off again. This would leave a partial timeline open for a relationship with Taylor. They could cite infinite believable reasons for the JK relationship being this way (K*shner/Tr*mp family issues, distance issues, typical relationship issues, etc.). This narrative allows Karlie to not be portrayed as a cheater, JK to not be portrayed as a horrible person that would put a vulnerable 19-year-old at the start of her career in a long-term bearding contract, allows JK’s sexuality to not be questioned, and allows their relationship’s authenticity to go unquestioned. I do think this is the most likely narrative if it is chosen to portray Karlie and JK’s relationship as legitimate even after it ends. After all, Karlie has already stated publicly that they have “been through a lot together” and that “it hasn’t been easy” and they met it 2012 when it was “a different world” (WWHL, January 2020). They could also take the tangential route that they were not exclusive at the beginning of their relationship, but I am not sure when it was definitively publicly confirmed that they were together; although it is confirmed that they met in 2012, they could emphasize that they were friends at first or not exclusive. They were interacting with each other online on a routine basis by 2013. This included them liking each other’s posts, posting pictures of one another, posting the same picture, or posting in the same location (many of these have been proven to be latergrams and don’t seem like natural relationship posting, but that’s beside the point). In June 2015, Karlie posted a photo of them together with a caption wishing him a happy birthday and thanking him for “three years of love and laughs”. However, there was still speculation in the comments at the time over whether they were a couple or close friends. Their engagement was announced in 2018, so there is potential to create a storyline in which JK and Karlie were just friends since 2012, Taylor and Karlie dated, then JK and Karlie dated and married, JK and Karlie divorced, and then Taylor and Karlie got back together. I don’t think this is likely but I think it is worth considering since in hindsight the announcement of their relationship seems to have been kept purposefully vague, specifically when it comes to timeline. Maybe that was intended to keep their maximum options open when considering their likely eventual separation narrative.

They could choose to portray Karlie as someone who cheated on her relationship with JK with Taylor. I do not think this is a likely option as it would damage Karlie’s reputation, although they could attempt to make a sympathetic appeal. Karlie has been "with" JK since she was 19, and I don't think they would purposefully promote the narrative that she cheated on the man that she later married. As I am racking my brain for all possible options, I suppose they could make an appeal that they had an open or polyamorous relationship, but that would be low-key insane considering their largely girl-next-door personas. But hey, you cannot say that I am not thorough and thinking outside the bun.

They could choose the narrative that their relationship was partially authentic and partially inauthentic. They could use the storyline that they “fell out of love” (ha) but chose to remain close friends and not go public with their break up. This is highly unlikely because their “marriage” occurred after her and Taylor were so publicly close. There is also no clear motive for doing this other than bearding so it does call into question JK’s sexuality.

They could also choose to reveal the JK Karlie relationship as fake. However, this would put JK in a difficult position and it’s almost unimaginable that he would be okay with it. I think there is an extremely unlikely possibility that he would want to publicly come out and create some sort of best-friends-mutually-bearding-without-any-contract-narrative. 

So, what are the other options? Well, she could tell (what I believe to be) the truth. She signed a contract in order to boost her modeling career, her marriage wasn't legally legitimate, and they never had an actual relationship. It certainly makes her choices and The Story make sense, but it would have endless ramifications. We have no way of knowing what the contract terms look like. It makes JK look like a terrible person, it puts his sexuality into question, and it makes Karlie look inauthentic (even though she has done a great job of mostly separating him from her public persona). I would genuinely not want to make an enemy out of a Kushner for fear of the safety of myself and my loved ones. It's a scary thing to make an enemy of someone who has so much power that they are virtually above the law. However, if there's anything we learned from the sale of the masters or the call, it's that publicity and public perception changes the options that are on the table. If Karlie and Taylor come out with the full (what I believe to be) truth, the world might see them in the way that most of us see them. Karlie was young, and was taken advantage of, and trapped into something she did not want. They were both struggling with and deciding if/how/when to come out publicly. Taylor was dealing with intense public scrutiny and the sale of her masters. They had no options to be honest about their relationship publicly. This option makes everything known, including their fear of the revenge JK and others might take against them, financially or otherwise. This results in anything they do in revenge receiving public backlash. If we're being honest here, this is my favorite narrative option purely because it's not a narrative; it's the truth. At the end of the day, we all love Taylor and her music and therefore want to know her and understand her on a deeper level. We all want the BRILLIANCE of her closeted writing to be properly admired for what it is. I think we all also want Taylor to feel loved and understood for who she truly is and what she's truly been through. Part of this is going to happen through being as honest as possible.

There is also the issue of oatmilk. Since she has literally never confirmed that they are actually dating (other than the sarcastic “she asked my boyfriend”, and the NME kiss (?)), she could take the route that they were always just friends. From this, should could take credit for the purposeful bearding, say that she just let it happen and let the media interpret their friendship that way and it didn’t bother her, or blame the media for spreading misinformation (which would be annoying because she clearly encouraged it). She could also break them up and legitimize their relationship, but that obviously takes away from the authenticity of her music and story. Either way, I feel like getting rid of oatmilk will be the easiest part of this process.

IN CONCLUSION, there are still many important issues to consider when we wonder why Taylor hasn’t come out yet and we shouldn’t use our impatience as reasoning to say that she is not gay. I believe that all of these issues would have to align or resolve in some way before she comes out. With any luck, it will be with TS8. However, the major wild card to consider is Karlie’s relationship with JK. We truly have no idea what this contract looks like, especially after the predicted end date last year was acknowledged by Karlie (instagram freedom post, seven long years tweet) and then still continued. We can hope that the public separation has been outlined in her renewal or that she would be safe in an exposé process, but nothing is certain. Ultimately, we all want the both of them to be happy and feel loved and appreciated for who they truly are, and to have control over the narrative they want.

Fuckin hell this is way too long but feel free to DM me with any questions because I clearly have too much time on my hands!! Peace and blessings

[meritre24601]

Black, grey and white

Sounds really deep doesn’t it? It simply means good, bad and somewhat fitting into both categories. And actually it is even simpler I just need a rant. I spent too much time in the English Cheese in the trap comment sections and it really bugs me that especially starting with the Goodbye chapter Inho is seen as better than ever, practically a perfect little angel and Jung as worse than ever, the devil in person (if Inho’s the angel). So I decided to look at the good and bad qualities of both boys. I guess most if not all of their qualities fit in the grey category but I’ll try to consider what I think the most accepted opinions are among readers. Feel free to argue, to add to my lists or just simply comment, I love talking about CitT. Oh and I’ll edit, expand this post as my opinion changes and I think of new things to add to the lists. It’s not really continuous, and since it’s long I doubt people will read it, the sole purpose is to get this out of my system (and maybe start a nice discussion). I’ll also pepper it with some of my drawings I uploaded earlier to make it more fun. I try to be objective but it’s easy to guess my preferences, right? Let’s get started!

Inho’s biggest problem in my opinion is his selfishness and that he simply doesn’t understand that everything he does, including speaking (it’s closely connected to his rudeness) has its consequences. (insulting people in high school, putting down Inha’s art) It’s understandable that he is selfish as he had to look out for himself  the better part of his life and I see it as a survival method (same with his sister Inha) but it can ruin his relationships with other people (all kinds of relationships). As a result, he doesn’t really value human relationships, especially friendship or at least he says so on more occasions (for example after the dinner at Seol’s, right before the fistfight of the boys). His treatment of his old co-worker and somewhat friend also demonstrates that. Leeching off people is also part of his selfishness, not caring if the other doesn’t have more money than him. But that’s something he showed in the first half of the story. His short temper and tendency to violence gets him in trouble especially because he rarely stops to think before he acts. He gets better with  controlling his temper and does give up his pride to play piano again, although due to a push from outside. He refuses to look at things from other peoples point of view, what he sees and believes is the truth and changing his mind is really hard if not impossible (example: his belief that Jung broke his hand) He improved a lot, he’s better now at controlling his temper and sometimes sees the wrongs he did and tries to correct them (Inha). But himself, his pride is most important, always, even if he hurts others.

(Picture is webtoon Inhos opinion about his drama self. No question who wins if there is a fight. Text is by English Webtoon CitT commenter Celery)

Now Jung’s biggest problem is his manipulative behaviour, and it’s greatly disliked and frowned upon so it landed in the black zone. It’s very useful at times but it can also bring great harm. (stalking, homeless lady, unnamed kid nicknamed Chopin) Like Inho he also improved, his punishments are not as severe as earlier (Sangchul S4) But just like Inho looking out for himself, Jung uses manipulation mainly to protect himself and those he cares about. Since it’s effective I don’t think he will stop, ever, it’s a core part of him that can’t be completely changed, like Inho also stayed selfish and aggressive and rude, although better than at the beginning.

Being calculative is connected to Jung being manipulative it’s a trait that helps him with his plans and life. Likely also helps with work and helping Seol.

Another trait readers dislike is his mask of smile, he just wants to be left alone and probably has the least trouble this way. And why should he care for all the people around him, there are just too many and they don’t care either. But being rude to them doesn’t bring anything, either, so there you have it. It’s the opposite when he turns cold - that’s basically him being angry. He closes himself off so one can only guess what’s the problem. I consider that a bigger problem since it also affects his loved ones. It’s okay to cool off but if he stays a sad little clam, who can guess what caused trouble and how to correct things? I think Seol is slowly getting him to be more expressive but that also results in him being more vulnerable (S4 Ch66) and that his “bottle“ can’t hold that much - he keeps things to himself, bottling everything up but he can’t bear that as well as earlier. (S4 Ch 66 and 71) Bottling things up isn’t good, either, as he himself tells Seol, trying to  get her to share her problems with him so he could help.

He’s quick to judge people and it’s hard to change his opinion (but not impossible) Yep, the number one example is Seol’s case.

Both boys have victim mentality, thinking what is theirs is taken or them receiving undeserved damage.

Done with the blacklists, moving to the grey questionable traits (actually most traits can be both harmful and helpful)

To tell people right away what he thinks is very typical for Inho (like when he told Seol she’s way out of Jungs league, bragging that he won the fistfight) so he appears genuine and honest to readers - but his truth is often distorted, just like Jung’s and while people see it with Jung, they often overlook it with Inho,  believing his truth to be the ultimae truth. It has two sides and the real truth lies somewhere in between. Honesty is a great trait but it can cause just as much confusion and a biased view on the story. (And that drama didn’t help with that) Loud. Why did I put that there? Because some people aren’t bothered one bit by him starting to yell out of the blue while others can’t stand those kind of people. Inho is also not the smartest out there and he is aware of that. it’s not that bad but not good either. But it’s an important reason in my opinion for him not being a good match for Seol romantically even if they were in love. She is so much more intelligent and capable, I have no idea what those two would talk about if Seol doesn’t develop an interest in classic music and piano. I don’t think that would end well. Right now I don’t think he could be someone for Seol to lean on, he would get a lot from the relationship but - forgive me - he would be an additional burden for Seol. When he has built up his new life (S4 Ch76), I’m sure he’ll be a supportive, good partner to a suitable girl.

Now let’s look through Jung’s grey list. He is secretive and mistrusting, those two traits walk hand in hand, also his sensitivity. It’s good if you don’t burden others with every little thing and keep things safe but going extreme causes not only harm for others but for himself, too. I think one important cause of the misunderstanding between him and Seol was him being mistrusting and sensitive (actually Seol as well) It got worse with Seol again and again unintentionally making him appear to be weird in public. (staring at him as she observed him, snickering incident, when she talked to others right before dropping the papers that Jung kicked) That freaked him out more than anything since he doesn’t want to be the weird one his father stampled him to be ever since he was little. Sensitivity helped them to determine what kind of people they encounter but it also makes both of them judgemental.

Now let’s get to the good part. Inho is good at heart and if he cares, he really cares and tries his best to help. My favourite example is the pepper spray but he also tried to stop Younggon with his fists, although that didn’t discourage Younggon one bit but it still shows Inho cares. He is really passionate about playing the piano and is also talented.  I put him being impulsive in the list trying to capture the good half of his brutal honesty and thinking before acting. In  situations where quick acting is vital it’s very useful. Maybe I should have left it as honesty as I initially did but he caused too much harm with that (starting with Inha’s art and the unwanted nickname Dogfur) He’s a good boy but has lots of baggage.

Jung doesn’t have less baggage, just different, but that doesn’t make either him or Inho bad people. They are like most people out there with their own troubles and good qualities.

(That’s just an unfinished sketch because I wanted to draw them happy together.)

Now back to Jungs good points. He’s intelligent, he cares for Seol and tries his very best to please her (once it got through to him that she’s a good girl, not like he initially thought). I guess he could be more open, but if you leave him alone he’ll leave you alone, too.  But he does care and he is obedient and listens to what others tell him and tries to act on that. He’s still trying to be like his father wants him, he listens to Seols wishes and even if he doesn’t show it, he even considers what people he dislikes tell him. Inho is a good example, when he told Jung that Inha is potential danger to Seol or when during their fistfight he told Jung that he’s bad for Seol, in the chapter where Jung actually ran to Seol for comfort it was shown that he did think about what Inho said and it made him uncomfortable. In S4 Ch76 we hear that Seol didn’t make it into Jung’s father’s company - I take it as Jung listening to Seols request to not use his influence to get her in there. (She must have had a bad day, otherwise she would have been accepted for sure, she is such a good worker) How odd now that I have the chance I can’t think of anything more to write so that’s it and here is one last picture, simply because it’s one of my favourite moments.