#Quinlan POV IS HERE!!

[copypastus]

One last Nesta for @nestaarcheronweek

Ember Quinlan the MVP of standing up for Nesta. Take notes Cassian.

[yazthebookish]

House of Flame and Shadow

Prologue and Chapter 1 reading updates

(Warning: spoilers below!!)

Prologue (Lidia's POV)

Morven and Einar are pieces of shit.

I guess Cormac is gone for good 💔

At least we got some descriptions of how some of the other Asteri look like. It still bothers me Rigelus chose the form of a 17-year-old boy. Ugh what a creep.

"Quinlan and Athalar are mates. She will return to this world because of that bond. And when she does, she will go straight to him."

THEY 👏🏼 ARE 👏🏼 MATES 👏🏼

"Athalar and Baxian dangled unconscious from the ceiling, their torsos patchworks of scars and burns. And their backs..."

The Asteri better start counting their fucking days.

"Lidia couldn't look at the third figure hanging between them. Couldn't get a breath down near him."

UGH!!!!

"Baxian still hung unconscious. Pollux had beaten him into a bloody pulp last night after severing his and Athalar's wings with a blunt-toothed saw. The Helhound didn't so much as stir."

Pollux I hope you'll burn in the deepest pit of Hell and get to have the worst death in the history of SJM character deaths.

"They'd never spoken mind-to-mind outside of their dreaming, but she'd been trying since he'd arrived here. Again and again, she'd cast her mind toward his. Only silence answered."

This sounds a whole lot like a Daemati. Like I'm still not sure if she is but it seems like it.

---

Chapter 1 (Bryce's POV)

"The darkness seemed inherent to the three people standing across from her: a petite female in gray silk, and two winged males clad in black scalelike armor, one of them-the beautiful, powerful male in the center of the trio— literally rippling with shadows and stars. Rhysand, he'd called himself. The one who looked so much like Ruhn."

Let's fucking gooooo!!

"You said your name is Bryce Quinlan. That you come from another world —Midgard." Rhysand murmured to the winged male beside him. Translating, perhaps.

Yes Rhys show us how useful your Duolingo lessons were.

Rhys seems to be agitated about her.

Master of spinning bullshit, indeed. "So maybe I'm here for that. Maybe the sword sensed that dagger and ... brought me to it." Silence. Then the silent, hazel-eyed warrior laughed quietly. How had he understood without Rhysand translating? Unless he could simply read her body language, her tone, her scent—The warrior spoke with a low voice that skittered down her spine. Rhysand glanced at him with raised brows, then translated for Bryce with equal menace, "You're lying."

Bryce, honey, that's the Spymaster of the Night Court.

"I just watched my mate and my brother get captured by a group of intergalactic parasites," she snarled. "I have no interest in doing anything except finding a way to help them." Rhysand looked to the warrior, who nodded, not taking his gaze off Bryce for so much as a blink. "Well," Rhysand said to Bryce, crossing his muscled arms. "That's true, at least."

Not Azriel functioning as Rhysand's personal lie detector. Impressive though.

" I do not pry where I am not willingly invited." Bryce lurched back in the chair, nearly knocking it over at the smooth male voice in her mind. Rhysand's voice. But she answered, thanking Luna for keeping her own voice cool and collected, "Code of mind-speaking ethics?"

LOLOLOLOLOL 🤣🤣🤣🤣

"So this is it, then. This is where we-the Midgard Fae— originated. My ancestors left this world and went to Midgard. .. and we forgot where we came from."

The theory I had since before even HOSAB came out is finally confirmed. I mean it was semi-confirmed in HOSAB but some readers still debated it.

The corner of Rhysand's mouth curled upward. "We will not torture it from you, nor will I pry it from your mind. If you choose not to talk, it is indeed your choice. Precisely as it will be my choice to keep you down here until you decide otherwise."

Bryce couldn't stop herself from coolly surveying the room, her attention lingering on the grate and the hissing that drifted up from it. "'ll be sure to recommend it to my friends as a vacation spot."

Of course Rhys has to pull the "choice" speech whenever he can 🤣 also, BRYCE LOL!!!

"You haven't seen it in fifteen thousand years, or spoken this language in nearly as long-which lines up pertectly with the timeline of the Starborn Fae arriving in Midgard."

So they exist in the same timeline then but Midgard happens to be more advanced.

"It is in our history, Rhysand," Amren said gravely. "But the Asteri were not known by that name. Here, they were called the Daglan."

Asteri are the Daglan, we guessed as much in HOSAB but that's another theory confirmed now!

"Azriel, without Rhysand to translate, watched in silence. Bryce could have sworn shadows wreathed him, like Ruhn's, yet... wilder. The way Cormac's had been."

Ruhn's darkness seemed more similar to Rhys, but Cormac was close to what we know of Shadowsingers. But if Shadows are an Avallen Fae's gifts then how is Azriel one? We're told Shadowsingers are not specific to any courts but there are no Shadowsinger Fae in Midgard than Avallen Fae. But Azriel has a unique way with his shadows (given that magic is more powerful in Prythian.

"The Veritas orb?" Amren said, and Azriel lifted an eyebrow.

Oh damn.

Rhysand mastered himself, a cool mask sliding into place. "You live in such a world." It wasn't entirely a question. But Bryce nodded. "Yes." "And they want to bring all of that ... here." "Yes." Rhysand stared ahead. Thinking it through. Azriel just kept his eyes on the space where the orb had displayed the utter destruction of her world. Dreading-and yet calculating. She'd seen that look before on Hunt's face. A warrior's mind at work.

She showed them the destruction and all the weapons the Asteri have. She even showed them Rigelus. Rhys, Azriel, and even Amren seem at a loss for words.

Bryce examined the silver bean that lay smooth and gleaming in her hand. Amren said without looking at her, "You swallow it, and it will translate our mother tongue for you. Allow you to speak it, too." "Fancy," Bryce murmured.

Of course they have a pill for translating any language and here we've been pondering about how they would communicate.

Amen turned to Rhysand and said in that new, strange language -their language: "The glowing letters inked on her back... they're the same as those in the Book of Breathings."

Oooooh Leshon Hakodesh 👀

Then Azriel said in a soft, lethal voice, "Explain or you die."

Holy hell that's hot—I mean—Azriel that's not a way to treat a woman chill the fuck out.

---

And we got to the end. This is what SJM only had available on her website. 4 more days until I get the full book and continue then 🤩!!

Also, Azriel's shadows seem to be around and thriving after all 😌 I recall being told they're gone for good based on HOSAB's ending, not that I took it seriously Lol.

[charmwasjess]

Out of curiosity what do you think would happen if, in addition to Ventress, Dooku actually got a Jedi apprentice to train? I'm thinking what if Ferus and Dooku ran into each other but if you don't know Ferus substitute another Jedi.

Ohhhh!! 👀👀❤️Like during Dooku's Sith era? 

I think in the books and comics, he does get his hands on at least one Jedi apprentice (Quinlan Vos in current canon) to turn and train, and in Legends/EU, Dooku has a whole vampy posse of Dark Jedi goths, including Sora Bulq, Tol Skorr, Kadrian Sey, and of course, Quinlan Vos again. Look at these magnificent losers.

It’s funny, we really don’t get any current canon look into Sith-era Dooku’s POV goals, unlike Legends which had whole books devoted to it, so forgive my speculating a little bit here. But I suspect Dooku with his mania for teaching and continuing interest in Jedi as a personal resource (for example, his obsession with getting Obi-Wan on his side) he thought the endgame for the defeated Jedi Order would be himself taking over the Temple. Picture his Dark Acolyte gang, but on a much larger scale. I mean, the Temple is right there full of impressionable younglings just waiting for a balanced education of Light and Dark! I could easily see him envisioning himself training some version of what would later become the Inquisitors. Sidious distractedly planning Operation Knightfall with his new better apprentice envisioned as the lead and making listening noises while Dooku waxes on about his New Jedi Order.

Depending on what time they intersect, Ferus and Dooku would make for an interesting conversation, since they both voluntarily left the Jedi Order for very different reasons! It’s been a long time since I read Jedi Quest, but I have a hard time seeing Ferus voluntarily wanting to work with Dooku. What do you think? :3

[yellowocaballero]

hello i am here to gush. genuinely obsessed with all of your fics but this time ab star wars specifically bc i got into clone wars recently and CANNOT stop thinking ab roleswap AU. both the regular and no chip versions make me so fucking insane. i have never encountered a parent/child relationship that breaks my heart quite like that one. the fact that literal-solider-raising-a-kid-in-an-active-war is the LEAST fucked up part ab their dynamic is incredible. also i love thirty with my whole heart

Aaaahhh thank you!!! This ask is so appreciated lmfao. I am VERY CLOSE to being done the No Chip rewrite (I have decided to rewrite every story in the AU and add another one, because I'm insane) and I'm struggling so hardcore with the last story I need to complete before I finish. I want to share them with y'all so bad because a few of them are really freaking good and people need to witness it. I will take the encouragement and hopefully it shall help power me :)

Regarding the insane Cody & Obi-Wan thing: it has to break your heart. Originally, the gulf between them was due to their difference in stations, social status, and personhood, and Cody's unwillingness to close that gap even if Obi-Wan waned him to. But in no chip the gulf is pretty much 100% shitty decision after shitty decision after shitty decision. There are huge themes of cycles of abuse, authoritarianism, and toxic masculinity, and although the effects of these things are a problem in almost every clone, it's definitely worst in Obi-Wan and Cody.

Cody feels helpless, I guess. He has zero control over his life. He can lead the GAR, he can lead the Imperial army, but no matter how much power he tries to take he can't fill that pit of helplessness-induced despair inside of him. He can seize power again and again, he can exert control over Obi-Wan's life more and more, and he can justify everything terrible thing he's done by saying that it's to keep the people around him safe, but he knows that there's no way to do that. The heartbreaking part is that he cannot protect his kid and his family. He'll never have the power that he thinks a father needs to have, the power that Jango had and that he coveted so much. And that his endless struggles to do the impossible causes 80% of problems in the story.

There's a recurring motif in the story about how love can ruin (This Is Star Wars.). I can't really say if Cody's a good person or a bad one, but I can say that love has made a ruin of Obi-Wan's life.

Thirty loves you too. I also love Thirty. I'm doing the Ben POV rewrite now and he's gotten so insane.

Thank you for the encouragement! Please subscribe to my channel so you can see when the story is finally posted. I am vaguely ballparking that it's 200k words, plus the Ben POV rewrite. Snippet of the Order 66 story under the cut :) What I like about the O66 story is that this snippet is cute out of context and very horrifying in context!!!

Another nightmare came. 

They didn’t get any less scary. The terror was the same, again and again. Obi-Wan thought he was going to die three times a month at least, he faced down armies of battle droids again and again, he had come face to face with a Sith. Maybe these things used to be scary, but Obi-Wan was fourteen now. Nothing freaked out fourteen year olds. Look at Quinlan, he didn’t give a kriff about anything. 

The nightmares never changed. They were just as scary as the very first time. But Obi-Wan knew that everyone was sick of dealing with them, so he had convinced Master and Grandmaster to just ignore them when he woke up in the middle of the night again. Fourteen year olds did not make three people wake up just for one nightmare, and Obi-Wan had to shape up.

Cody said it was always okay to wake him up. And clones didn’t need that much sleep. And…and Obi-Wan’s soul was really convinced that he was going to die, that one day everybody was going to die, and somehow Obi-Wan ended up knocking at his cabin door at 0100. 

Regret hit instantly. Cody opened the door almost as quickly as regret, blinking down at the sleepy and terrified Obi-Wan wearing his robe over his sleep clothes. Obi-Wan second-guessed all his life decisions. 

“Uh,” Obi-Wan said, “wanna hang out?”

Cody, still wearing his day armor, leaned backwards and obviously looked at the clock. Obi-Wan started sweating.

Then Cody looked back at him, shrugged, and stood aside. “Alright. If you stay quiet, you can stay as long as you like.”

And then Cody let Obi-Wan into his room.

Cody had been inside Obi-Wan’s room over a dozen times, but the other way around felt different. Clones were insanely private people, and although Obi-Wan’s newfound access to the barracks had opened up a world of wonder and mystery, certain people still remained enigmas. Cody was one of them. For somebody who was so dominant in Obi-Wan’s life, he didn’t actually know a lot about him.

The cabin didn’t help. It was completely bare, with one trunk at the end of his bed containing his personal belongings and identifications. It was the same trunk every clone had, probably with the same personal belongings and identifications. Obi-Wan couldn’t help but be a little disappointed. He was at least hoping for wall-mounted heads of vanquished enemies. What he deserved for thinking Cody might have a personality. 

The reason why Cody was still wearing his armor became quickly evident. His small desk bolted to the wall was piled high with formwork, and the softly glowing white lamp evidenced how Obi-Wan had interrupted him in the middle of his midnight formwork. 

Obi-Wan squinted judgmentally at Cody. Cody refused to be ashamed. Obi-Wan squinted further, insinuating that shame was the only appropriate emotion to feel when you were up at 0100 doing formwork. Cody abruptly looked very frightened. 

“When did you get so good at that?”

“I pick up some stuff, you know.” Never would Obi-Wan ever admit how much. He shucked his robe and carefully hung it up on a peg next to Cody’s bucket, bouncing over and depositing himself on Cody’s cot. He’d never seen such neat corners. “Can I help you with your formwork?”

“I have it handled. Take the cot and get some rest.”

Obi-Wan looked dubiously at Cody. “Then where are you going to sleep?”

“I already slept.”

“You liar.”

“I only lie if it’s important.” Cody sat down at his desk, swiveling the stool back and re-asserting his focus over the formwork. He picked up a stylus, only to halt hard. “Do you…want to talk about it?”

What was there to say? It was just the usual. Death, destruction, a million voices crying out in pain before being silenced. It wasn’t anything Cody hadn’t heard before. That Obi-Wan hadn’t felt before. Yet Obi-Wan still couldn’t beat it. 

“Don’t take any vacations to Alderaan,” Obi-Wan said wisely.

“I don’t take vacations.”

“You’re fine, then.”

“Go to bed.”

Obi-Wan embraced the slightly surreal experience of snuggling under Cody’s thin blanket and tightly fitted sheets. Cody turned the lamp low, leaving a single dim star shining in the cabin’s darkness, and soon Obi-Wan heard nothing but the omnipresent hum of the ship’s atmo control and the creaking of Cody’s stool. 

“...Cody?”

Cody spoke without looking up from his work, implying his complete lack of faith that Obi-Wan would stay quiet. Harsh but fair. “Yes, Commander?”

“I seem pretty stupid, right?”

Cody continued signing the formwork, completely unphased. “Not at all. The future’s a scary place.”

Obi-Wan pulled the thin blanket higher, trying to bundle up in it. It was such a thin and scratchy blanket. He was literally a Marshal Commander, why didn’t he have nicer blankets? Obi-Wan had a soft and fluffy one brought over from the Temple. 

“Are you scared of it?”

A little wryly, he said, “I’ve been reliably informed that I’m not afraid of anything.”

Obi-Wan would absolutely believe that, but Cody didn't sound as if he did. “Then what are you scared of?”

Without pausing, almost absentmindedly, Cody said, “Something happening to you.”

Oh. Wow. Obi-Wan pulled the blanket up higher, close to his ears. “Really?”

For the first time, Cody halted. He looked up, staring at the wall. Obi-Wan couldn’t see his expression, but he spoke slowly and strangely. As if he was surprised, or had come to a belated realization. “I…suppose so.” 

Alright, Obi-Wan had to feel guilty now. He had really thought that Cody scolded him for doing dangerous things because it was against regs. “Sorry for jumping off a cliff with that rocketpack Rex stole.”

Cody leaned back a little, running his hands through his hair. He didn’t turn around, and Obi-Wan had a hard time reading his microexpressions. The dim light cast him in a strange glow, a shadow against the dark. “I - remember that. I remember watching you jump off that cliff. I didn’t even see the pack. I just saw you, and…I’d never felt like that before.”

“Felt like what?”

“Petrified,” Cody said distantly. “Like my galaxy was in its last second before neutron collapse. I think I’m scared of that feeling too.”

“I promise not to jump off any more cliffs,” Obi-Wan said, truly distressed. “No more cliff-jumping for me, I swear.”

Cody just huffed a silent laugh. He bent back down over his formwork, but his heart clearly wasn’t in it. “Maybe I’m just scared of you, Commander.”

“What? Me! I’m not exactly going to turn Sith and start commanding a droid army, you know.”

“Goodnight, Commander.”

Obi-Wan didn’t say anything.

He quickly slid off the bed, trotted over to Cody, and gave him a very tight and very awkward hug from behind. Cody froze. Obi-Wan released him, trotted back to bed, and slipped back underneath the covers.

“Goodnight, Cody.”

[ronibartender]

Tell me what you want

Summary: (Y/N) is a killer AUX agent. When her friend Bryce and boss Ruhn Danaan get tapped to investigate two pieces of the same puzzle she wants in. But that may mean she needs to face more demons than she signed up for.

PS: takes place during CC1

Disclaimer: I give no rights for my work to be replicated, adapted, translated or used for any means. If you have questions please feel free to message me.

A special thanks to @mirandasidefics for allowing me to beta read her amazing writing and supporting me in posting my first fics. Go read her fics on her page, they are to die for!

Reader’s POV

Crescent City was the place everyone wanted to live in, “where dreams came true.” That was all bullshit. Crescent City had more skeletons in its closet than a freakin’ serial killer. Fae royalty was cruel and condescending. Vampyrs were creeps. Nymphs were top manipulators with pretty faces. Wolves were loyal to a fault but brutally violent. Mers were too mysterious to know anything about. The sprites and other lowers such as humans were treated as little more than pests in this city. And the angels rule over it all, claiming they were “enforcers of the law” and “here to serve and protect the city.” That’s bullshit too; they feed off the weak and abuse their power. (Y/N) would know, after dating Micah Domitus for a grand total of a decade, she decided enough was enough when he asked for an open relationship. If he wanted to go around fucking people he could do it without her.

She had no idea how she ended up here; friends with Bryce Quinlan and playing detective with her on a murder case her ex-boyfriend demanded Bryce solve. They’d met at a club years ago, actually. Bryce had fallen off a table while dancing and (Y/N), recently arrived and still sober, helped her onto her feet and shooed away the males trying to get a glimpse up her skin tight dress. Danika had been there too; getting refills when Bryce fell but she was fun. Having lost her and the pack of devils only proved that this city was on its way to shit.

“Since when is the Umbra Mortis your personal body guard?!” (Y/N) strode into the gallery and b-lined it to Bryce.

Bryce chuckled, “since your ex boo thang set him to be my fierce protector as I handle this case.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes, “don’t call him that. Any new leads though?”

“Uh-uh.” Bryce sighed, shoulders sagging. She needed a break through soon.

“I went to see Ruhn yesterday. Asked him some questions but it was fruitless… except for the fact that I found out the Autumn King is looking for Luna’s horn.”

“What for?!”

“Who fucking knows? Wanna come to Luna’s temple? Ruhn wants me to meet him there, I just came up here to get my shit before leaving.”

“If you wanted info from the AUX you could’ve asked me.”

Bryce waved her off, “you had a hot date… I was impulsive. I kinda regret dragging him into this but who knows? Maybe Prince Danaan can prove himself to me more than ‘daddy’s lap dog,” she said. A look of pain on her face but (Y/N) knew not to push. Knew her history and true relation to Ruhn and she knew to stay well away from it. She wouldn’t touch the subject with a ten foot pole in a hazmat suit.

“I’m here,” (Y/N) held Bryce’s hand. “And I’ll go to the temple with you. It’s not everyday I get to see the Umbra Mortis up close.” She wiggled her eyebrows, causing Bryce to chuckle.

“You’re so bad.”

“Take a picture of Athie him for me!!” A squeal came from the cracked door down the hall. Lehabah’s fiery face now a shade of pink, “he’s dreamy,” she swooned and Bryce rolled her eyes.

“You got it,” (Y/N) winked at the sprite.

(At Luna’s temple)

Ruhn Danaan was not pleased to see that Bryce had not only brought (Y/N) but Hunt Athalar too. After questioning Bryce on Hunt’s attendance he turned his gaze to (Y/N), “shouldn’t you be at work?”

“My boss gave me the day off.”

“I’m your boss.”

“Yes. And you’re giving me the day off,” she smirked, tilting her head.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because this is the biggest fucking case the AUX has right now and whether you want to admit it or not I’m one of the fucking best. The only reason I’m not your right hand is because you favored your fucking buddies over a good agent.”

“We are not doing this right now,” Ruhn’s veil of shadows darkened.

“You know it’s true; I may not hack as well as Dec but you know I can take Flynn on the mat, at the range and in the field.”

“(Y/N).” Ruhn’s voice was warning, “I swear, I will stick you on parking duty.” At that she pursed her lips and turned to Bryce. Conversation over.

“Asshole,” she whispered under her breath, knowing his High Fae ears could pick it up just fine, but Ruhn said nothing.

Ruhn told them of his findings; of the Kristallos and how it could be summoned. (Y/N) sensed Bryce’s unease grow with every moment, every breath. She leaned on her leg, brushing her shoulder with Bryce’s. She knew the red head would resent having a public act of affection right now, Bryce couldn’t stand to appear weak, especially not in front of these males. But a small touch like this… a simple comfort. I am here, the touch seemed to say.

When Hunt walked away to make a phone call (Y/N) was unfortunately stuck in an awkward position, still as the statue beside them, as the two siblings went at each other about their past and their falling out. Bryce had the last word, looping her arm through (Y/N)’s and yanking her out of Ruhn’s shadow bubble. The lights burned their eyes as they blinked their way to Hunt.

(That night at the AUX)

(Y/N) was typing away at another boring report. Yes, she had a squad of her own. Ruhn was AUX head but he had five squad leaders below him; one for each section of the city, excluding the meat market. Flynn was his right hand, Declan his left. Ruhn had chosen two other males he trained with and trusted for the other two positions but (Y/N) was the only female squad lead on his team and they treated her like it.

Her squat at least respected her; they covered Asphodel Meadows. People knew not to get on her bad side, no matter what kind of shifter of fae or whatever you were, there was no one who knew (Y/N) who’d want to see her in a foul mood. They’d all seen her take down criminals three times her size without hesitation; she wouldn't hesitate to knee an alpha-hole In the balls.

“I haven’t seen you work this late since you were an intern,” she’d sensed his presence so she didn’t startle when he placed a cup of coffee on her desk and pulled up a chair, turning it to straddle it.

“It’s only 3 am, I’d say I’m working early,” she didn’t look at him. Didn’t want to. Ruhn Danaan was a fucking ass. They used to be friends; she’d been working at the AUX long before Ruhn had gotten his shit together and decided to make a living for himself instead of living to defy his father. She taught him many things, took him to the mat until he could pose a true match, until they had to work overtime to beat each other in a match. But then she got passed on the promotion of being AUX head. And when she Stood up to the department about it, Ruhn’s predecessor, who’d been such an inspiration to her, looked at her with sad eyes and said. That’s politics for ya… and left.

When Ruhn passed on her to be his right hand he didn’t look at her for weeks, didn’t answer her texts or calls. Soon enough he was nothing but her boss and that was that.

“I’m sorry I was a dick.”

“Which time?” She still didn’t look at him, still typing away on her computer. Ruhn sighed, taking the mouse and pressing the save button, “hey!”

“It’s a report, not a book,” the prince retorted. When (Y/N) took the mouse back and tried opening the report again, Ruhn unplugged the computer entirely. When she opened her mouth to give him the verbal lashing of his life he cut her off. “I want to officially/unofficially put you on this case”

That made her take pause, “what?” Ruhn simply pushed the cup of coffee closer to her. My father tasked me with finding the horn. Micah tasked Bryce with finding the killer. She has fucking Athalar helping her out… I thought we could tag team it.” He offered her a crooked smile, lip ring tilting with the movement.

Her face remained as hard as stone, “cause I’m disposable? You don’t wanna put Dec and Flynn on this, why? Cause they’ll get hurt? Cause you think-”

“They are on the case,” Ruhn growled through his teeth, cutting her off, his patience wearing thin with this female. “They’re helping where they can, all under the table, just like you’d be doing.”

“Why do I suddenly get to sit with the cool kids?”

“Because you’re a fucking good researcher and you know ancient myths and history and magic like no one else I know.” He was close now, too close. It reminded her of the times when they were friends; he’d taken her to one of his father’s events, she didn’t have a dress so he bought her one. Paid for her hair and makeup too. They didn’t match. He was in an all black suit and she was in a red dress; but they had fun. He taught her to dance a few steps and once the ball had turned boring they went to a pizza parlor, still dressed to the nines.

There was only one time when they’d almost crossed that fine line. Only once. A large group had gone to the White Raven to celebrate one closed case or another and after several shots and mixed alcohol, Ruhn had danced her up against the wall and squeezed her hips. “Tell me what you want,” he’d said, voice as smooth as silk. For a moment she couldn’t move, only feel him in her space, filling it in the best of ways.

The moment was ruined by several females tugging Ruhn away, begging for dances and pictures and asking him questions about his tattoos and piercings and if he had either in naughty places. It wasn’t until she spotted him kissing a Nymph of sorts that she decided enough was enough and she would be made a fool of. She left the Raven, stumbling right into Tristan fucking Flynn who was waiting for his requested ride to arrive. He offered to share the car and pay for her ride home once he was dropped off but during the ten minute ride to his place things had happened; maybe it was the copious amounts of alcohol in their systems or it was the jealousy rushing through her veins alongside it but when Flynn offered her a hand out of the car and into his place she didn’t refuse. They never talked about it, he was in the kitchen when she woke up the next morning and she’d left without saying goodbye. They were normal enough after that, coming to a silent understanding that it was a fun night and nothing more.

She doubted Ruhn knew any of it as he looked into her eyes now and told her, “I want you on this case. Tell me what you want.” The same words he’d said that night… he looked at her lips and then at her eyes again, “tell me what you want,” he whispered this time.

She smirked and leaned in a little, “you wanna know what I want, Danaan?” He nodded. After a beat her face turned to stone again, “a raise.” And with that she stood up, grabbed her bag and walked out. Ruhn’s peace offering in the form of coffee still sat untouched and steaming on her desk as she walked away.

[bookbitchx]

Hello hello here's a lil rant about SJMs writing of Rhys and it driving me crazy :) (CC3 spoilers, ACOTAR spoilers, minor TOG spoilers)

I agree with your post that questions whether or not SJM was being purposeful when she created the dynamics of the IC and their allies. I personally think in order to determine if SJM is doing this purposefully its important to take all her books into account (especially with the crossover in CC3 😭 And because SJM's only finished series currently is TOG, most of my comparisons will involve that series)

I suspect that the IC's emotional journeys are still very far from over. Especially Rhys and Feyre since they have been arguing off page (which is understandable given it wasnt their POVs) and SJM purposefully included Ember Quinlan defending Nesta in the bonus chapter. Now each of these characters have VERY strong personalities, but Ember in particular comparing rhys to someone who abused her is EXTREMELY important for us as readers to note for future books. And i really hope that its because SJM is finally gonna let him be held accountable for being an ass towards his mate's sister and for meddling so much in their relationship.

Rhysand in particular out of all of the IC has probably the most potential for a good redemption arc. Hes traumatized by his families deaths and UTM in canon and it would be safe to assume his childhood in Windhaven wasn't exactly pleasant. So giving us the Archeron POVs to unpack these centuries old characters is bound to get messy due to their own lack of experience, (but it makes for good fan interaction, i see you sjm).

Rhys definitely has better intentions than the Highlords before him did, but he still has some iffy behavior that stems from needing to have control over his surroundings likely due to traumatic events where he felt powerless to save those he cares for. But that doesn't excuse the fact that he has (accidentally) hurt more people while trying to keep control. He withheld life saving info from his mate bc he didnt want her to worry, he threatened and chased Nesta from the city because she shared the info he was hiding, he stole the book from Tarquin despite the fact that he likely would have helped rhys anyway, he locked his IC in Velaris to protect them (when Amren could've solo'd anyone in UTM 🤫). All of which to me sounds like could be control issues.

Now for who I think is the closest character we have to really compare to Rhys, the MC of TOG also struggled with control issues throughout the series. And her own trauma also mirrors Rhys' to an extent, especially her family life and the fact she was also stuck without fresh air while she was in Endovier. She made bad choices throughout her story, ones that affected the people she loved directly. But when her arc concluded, she was able to make healthier decisions for herself and loved ones despite that.

If SJM truly loves rhys as much as she claims, I don't think she wouldn't give him an opportunity to heal like the one she gave to Aelin. Especially after she hinted in CC3 that things are NOT always all fine and dandy in Feysand's relationship, Feyre herself said she was furious with the IC in acosf, and the two of them have yet to discuss how Rhys' actions utm affected her.

Realistically, I don't the highest hopes for Rhys' character arc unfortunately, but a girl can dream of a better ACOTAR 😂 I wanna believe that it'll be a great series when it concludes but im hesitant in putting my faith into SJM tbh 😔 Anyway, I hope you have a wonderful rest of ur day/ night and im so excited to hear your thoughts!

Heyy

I hope you're having a good day/night too!

You definitely make some good points.

I can kind of see similarities between Rhysand and Aelin, but at the same time, I don't.

Aelin, for all her faults and mistakes, had at least tried to do the right thing, no matter how misguided it was. She was selfish and reckless and ended up hurting people close to her, but she owned up to it. She was also young. She was, what like 19-20? Not an excuse, but a factor.

Rhysand, on the other hand... God, where do I even start?

It's weird because ACOTAR is so different from TOG in terms of writing, and I'm just talking about first person/third person POVs.

I honestly believe that SJM tried to make the series black and white. Tamlin Bad, Rhysand good. Eris bad, Mor good. Nesta bad, Feyre good... and accidentally ended up with a controversial mess.

I mean good for her. Publicity is publicity no matter if it's positive or negative (here we are talking about it), but yeah.

Rhysand was supposed to be this morally grey character, but she ended up making him a self praising, self-proclaimed king of feminism, most powerful High Lord with nothing to back it up.

○ He gives Feyre 'choices' only when the outcome is in his favor.

○ He claims he's all for women's freedom to choose whatever they want... yet he lets those Illyrian camps keep women as glorified slaves and praises the leaders for giving them 2 hours of training.

○ He's 'the most powerful High Lord' yet he can't control the HC, and the camp leaders barely respond to him.

○ He, Feyre, and the IC feel entitled to information that affects the whole of Prythian... for what I don't know.

○ I'm not even going to get into the acts he commits against his 'family' bc I would be here for a while.

○ He encouraged his mate to take her petty revenge on Tamlin, destroying his entire court in the process, innocent lives and homes, not to mention making Prythian more vulnerable to Hybern.

○ He got mad at Nesta for giving the mask to Bryce... isn't that what he did with the book? Except he stole it and destroyed Summer Court property while Nesta controls the mask.

You're right about his control issues, though, as was seen with Nesta every time she didn't listen to him. I can see how that would relate to the lack of control he felt UTM, but...

Did 50 years UTM getting SA affect him? Obviously. I don't disregard the trauma he went through, but I also don't turn a blind eye to the things he did UTM.

He assaulted his mate with no excuse. He could've easily left her in that cell instead of making her wear a napkin and get drunk against her will. Amarantha didn't even care when he paraded her around and only got mad when she saw them kissing.

The children of the Winter Court that were killed, I don't know why it was brushed off with no consequences because who else would have done it? Daematis are extremely rare, and somehow, there was another one powerful trapped under the mountain, but he doesn't know who? Another Daemati who was working for Amarantha and didn't call out Rhysand on the Claire Beddor lie?

God, this turned into a rant, I know, and I'm sorry, lol.

I personally don't see a redemption arc satisfying enough happening or at all really. I read somewhere that Rhysand was created after SJM's husband Josh... yk where I'm going with this.

Anyway, if you sat through this, thanks!

[lilolilyr]

Fic rec time! Star Wars: Obi Wan x Jaster Mereel

'The Temporary Temple Guards': 60+k, by RoosjeM on Ao3, not rated, prequel trilogy

Summary: It was a widely known fact within the Temple, that the Temple Guards stationed at the Coruscant Temple were experiencing a ‘shortage’ at the moment. Seeing as Knights were sent out to complete missions and went on protective details, they were also the Corp that was responsible for the Temple Guards.

“I may have an issue.”

“What is it?”

“I have a youngling in front of me. There is no one else around and I am pretty sure he’s Mandalorian, and he's lost.”

Or: it’s Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi’s turn to be a Temporary Temple Guard and of course one of his past missions comes back to haunt him.

It's quite canon-divergent from even before the fic timeline starts, the author sums it up quite well in a note on chapter 2:

"Korda VI happened differently, Galidraan didn't happen but Mandalorians and Jedi have not been in contact so all they really know about each other is galaxy wide rumours and their troubled history [...].

I moved Obi-Wan's timeline up. [...] the Missions to Mandalore [was] his last missions as a Padawan in this fic (meaning he's early twenties when he is there). The Naboo mission is not a thing.

Jaster [...] writes the Supercommando Codex earlier. His Haat'ade were only starting to gain allies which eventually led to the Clan Wars.

Jango is younger as well because I think baby-Jango is top tier comedy."

This fic is so good, I'm trying to follow it along despite my usual modus operandi with wips being either a) ignore it till it's finished or abandoned or b) read what's written then forget about it forever, because i just don't have a good enough memory to know what fic it is whenever sth updates...

I just re-read the first ten chapters (because, again, no memory) and summarized them all so in the future once the fic updates, or if I don't read the next chapters in one go, I can just read my summary instead to remember where I'm at - when I wanted to continue my summary on my bookmark for c11-16, I ran out of character space! So I'm continuing it here on tumblr instead :)

Feel free to save this post if you are also following the fic along as it's written and have the same memory problems as I have :) if you aren't up to date with the latest chapters yet, beware the spoilers below the cut!

~~~ continue reading ~~~

C1

Obi & Quinlan are temporary assigned as guards bc of a staff shortage

A Mandalorian kid is lost, sees a man in armor & asks for help, not caring that it's a Jedi, not a Mandalorian! Obi brings him to little keldabe as taking him to the temple could cause an international incident, breaking pretty much all Guard rules apart from the vow of silence which he keeps the entire time.

In Little Keldabe he is threatened with weapons but not harmed because the kid is in the way. Once the kid's Buir shows up (Jaster, though he doesn't recognize him), Obi escapes through the sewers.

C2

Flashback: obi's mission on mandalore! Satine and the new mandalorians are a bother, Obi-Wan doesn't like their fake-pacifist weak ways, he wants to join with the Haat'ade for his and Satine's protection. They go by Ben and Tina for anonymity.

Present day: Jaster POV: on Coruscant for peace talks the Senate asked for, he hates the planet. When guards lose Jango he's even more pissed and ofc worried.

"You saved the squad that just so ended up being the current Mand’alor’s squad.” Quinlan remembers about Obi-Wan's time on Mandalore.

There's video footage of Obi bringing Jango to little Keldabe, so the mandos see (and Jaster thinks Obi seems familiar), and the Jedi find out- obe's not worried about the council because 'Yoda felt guilty for all the kark Obi-Wan had to go through under Qui-Gon Jinn’s care since he was the one that pushed them together.'

Turns out the council isn't too pissed anyway because his stunt improved the image of Temple Guards quite a lot. He's still asked not to repeat it.

C3

Jaster's mandos observe the temple looking for obi-wan. Jango also wants to find 'his Aran'.

Obi-stays temporary guard with Feemor, and they have lineage tea with Dooku, who's quite nice if you get to know him better.

The Temple Guards bring the lurking mandos datapads: subtly and threateningly telling them to piss off.

Flashback: obi on Mandalore with his late adopted dad Bardan Jusik of House Skirata (Kal's uncle btw), learning about armor.

C4

Overtired obi in Guard armor (& hidden Mando vambraces) after his shift stumbles across visiting Jaster, they fight and Jaster takes off his helmet to reveal - they knew each other, friends when Obi was on mandayaim

More flashbacks of the haat'ade, mentions that Qui-Gon left obi behind and did a shit job at mentoring in general, and more flashback to how Obi became Ben be aliit Jusik of House Skirata: Bardan offered to adopt him, asked him to consider becoming haat'ade. The Goran had figured out he was jettii and offered armor anyway. He also became close to alor Jaster, into the inner circle of the Haat'ade.

C7

Flashback: Jaster x Obi get together ♡

When death watch attacks, Obi-wan fought back with his lightsaber. Bardan's death by darksaber was blamed on him by the Skiratas and he named Dar'manda. Obi took Satine and left without telling Jaster goodbye. To

Present day: Jaster tells him he should have come to him to clear it all up, that he would have protected him, that he loves Obi-Wan/Ben and doesn't think their time was a lie, that he wants to get to know Obi-Wan properly now.

C8

Jaster tells Obi that his buir Barden lived! The Skiratas have been looking for him all this time.

The mandos are offered lodgings in the temple (bc Jaster and Obi are taking so long in Obi's rooms xD) they recognize Feemor as the threat/message bringer bc he 'moves the same'. Feemor is freaked out by this.

Barden POV: he is impatient, not having heard from the mandalorians on Coruscant since they went to the temple. He and Alor Skirata are also looking for Ben, going to MelidaDaan.

Jaster finds the dha'ka'dau in Obi's room, who didn't know what it was, just that the kyber wanted to rest.

Mandos incl Jaster&Obi are invited for breakfast, the mandos realize the Jedi are all just one big family.

Council meeting: it's revealed by Jaster that Obi is still considered adopted mandalorian, even if Barden had really died. It's decided he should go to Mandalore as a potential watchbeing and to give him the opportunity to meet with the Skiratas.

C9

The darksaber decides to come along to Mandalore, bullying Obi-Wan into it (sentient sword!!)

Obi-Wan won't hide his Jedi heritage this time. He's being a bit petty about it, refusing to wear any armor apart from the kom'rk(vambraces).

En route, Jaster and Obi meditate together. Jaster is just slightly force sensitive.

C10

Bardan learns about the former Young on Melidaan but doesn't figure out that 'Obi-Wan' is his kid. The Young regret that Obi-Wan left and they don't know what happened to him.

Arriving on Mandalore, Obi-Wan is greeted with weapons aimed at him when Jango asks to be picked up. Jaster reprimands the mandos and has Obi with Jango walk next to him despite him not having a rank

C11

Walon Vau, a friend of Bardon and so Obi's uncle, comes to collect him for first meal. He is asked to sit with him, Jaster and the other alore. Jaster says that despite first meal not being socially important for mandalorians, he wants to spend it with his cyare Obi-Wan because it is important for Jedi.

Obi-Wan goes to the Forge with the Goran, who asks why he isn't wearing his armor, and Obi-Wan finally admits he struggles with the dual identity of Jedi and Mandalorian. He meets Mand'alor Tarre Vizla in a vision who thanks him for taking care of the dha'kad and asks him to unite Mandalorians and Jedi. Obi-Wan's armor is to be reforged.

Bardan and Obi-Wan have a tearful reunion.

C12

Obi-Wan tells his buir everything and asks for advice about what to do after the three months posting in Mandalore is up.

Erri Skirata feels guilty for being the reason Ben/Obi-Wan ran away. Obi-Wan and Erri have an official clan dispute talk with the Goran and Jaster, and Obi-Wan forgives her for what happened, saying given the circumstances, he understands why she thought he killed Barden. He just wants to move past it.

Jaster with Kal's help starts an investigation in the Jedi's ties to the Senate and the Ruusan reformation.

C13

Obi heals a plant, thought on Mandalore to be the last of its kind, and recognizes it from a Jedi garden.

The Young are visiting and Obi-Wan has another tearful reunion! Nield apologizes for blaming Obi for Cerasi's death. Barden realizes Obi-Wan the General of the Young is Ben, his son, and breaks down crying.

C14

Obi-Wan and Barden have a talk about OW's past with a mindhealer present. They speak of Bandomeer.

Jaster has Kal look for old information on Jetii armor

Obi-Wan defeats Walon in a spar for the first time.

C15

Jaster reminds/tells Ben that he is trying to court him.

In the Forge, when receiving his beskar'gam, OW has a vision of Tarre Viszla telling him "You must unite Jedi and Mando’ad. Should you fail, you both will fall. Enemies are everywhere."

Ao3: C1 | C13

OW's Jedi siblings come by unannounced for his birthday. Bear clan lives with Barden during their stay before they're called back by Yoda.

C16

Feemor works in the archives with Kal and Kal asks him on a date.

the bookmark that started this post

Fyi, I use this code to hide spoilery summaries on Ao3 bookmarks:

<details><summary>spoilers </summary> WRITE YOUR TEXT HERE </Details>

Header image by me, made from this and this and of course trusty remove dot bg and Sony Sketch App.

My other star wars stuff: Tumblr web Ao3 Instagram

[postluminescence]

everyone adores you (at least i do)

CC-1010 | Fox/Quinlan Vos, Undercover Missions, Dancing, Fake Out Make Out, Jealousy, (but its buried under ten layers of repression), Pre-Relationship, Flirting, POV CC-1010 | Fox

“Good?” Fox says, because it's the only word he can muster through his throat, which might be closing. Could he be allergic to the drink Quinlan ordered him? It would be an easy way to explain the heat in his face and the tightness in his chest. Quinlan nods eagerly up at him. Fox doesn't say anything back. He doesn't have anything to say to the way Quinlan's eyes look in the light.

written for day #5 of foxquin week with the alternate prompt fake dating (though it went kind of off the rails). this is my longest fic for this week and probably the one i am proudest of!

read here

[foreverchangingfandomsao3]

ganar mirjahaal (to have peace of mind) (1,631 words) by foreverchangingfandoms Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Kira (Mind Healer OC) Additional Tags: Whumptober 2024, Whump, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs Therapy, Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets Therapy, I've been waiting so long to use those tags together, Emotional Hurt, Anakin Skywalker Turns to the Dark Side, Obi-Wan Kenobi Knows About Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi Is Bad At Feelings, Well he's bad at his own feelings and that's what counts here, Therapy, Obi-Wan Kenobi Has Issues, Mentioned Qui-Gon Jinn, Mentioned Quinlan Vos, Mentioned Padmé Amidala, POV Obi-Wan Kenobi, Sheev Palpatine Dies, To be clear he dies off screen and isn't mentioned but he's very dead for plot reasons Series: Part 31 of Whumptober 2024 Summary:

After Anakin falls and Palpatine dies, Obi-Wan can't bring himself to talk to his former padawan so he seeks out a mind healer.

My fill for whumptober day 31 - Asking for help (therapy | making amends | “I’m alive, I’m just not well”)

[flowerparrish]

So during Voiceteam, @paintchipblue made this really neat Podfic Comment Bingo, and it was such a joy to tackle while going through post rounds / at the end and bookmarking stuff I wanted to listen to. Everything looks so new and shiny and exciting, so this was a really fun way to prioritize what I listened to I M M E D I A T E L Y and what I marked for later so I could make sure I got through the whole collection!

Here are the podfics I listened to (and as such, am now recommending YOU listen to and comment on!) under a cut:

Not in English: robot-revolutionarys tumblr dashboard read by CainPods, wilfriede0815

Fandom for Robots, German translation of a fic then podded

(Had) No Comments: Almost Home read by @devilwithabirddress

Hades (Video Game 2018), Asterius/Theseus

Has a Ghost: Light the Way read by @kittonafoxgirl

Pokemon, featuring Litwick, Lampent, Chandelure, and Original Child Characters

More than 5 Voices: Conventions for Robots, multi-voice organized and edited by @gilraina

Fandom for Robots, featuring Computron & bjornruffian

Free Space: gold in the dirt read by @kbirbpods

Star Wars, featuring Commander Fox, Quinlan Vos, and Jon Antilles

A Cold Read: robot-revolutionary's tumblr dashboard, featuring me & @olive2read and edited by olive2read!

Fandom for Robots

Not Safe For Work: the beauty of discovery, read by @42donotpanic

Marvel/DC Crossover, Bucky/Clint/Jason

Wild AU Premise: dark and burning (soaked with orange blossoms), read by @kbirbpods

Star Wars, Feemor/Fox

Has An Actual Ship In It: A kiss behind the barricades, read by @kbirbpods

AFTG characters (Jean Moreau/Jeremy Knox) in the Star Wars universe as Jedi padawans

F/F Ship: in search of a sky for smoke to rise to, read by @korechthonia

Star Wars, Padmé/Arla Fett

OC As A Major Character: By His Side, read by rambling_company

Star Wars, outsider POV about Obi-Wan/Anakin

Under 5 Minutes: The Living Among the Dead, read by @kbirbpods

LOTR: Eowyn-centric

Canon Over 200 Years Old: Silver Skins, read by wilfriede0815

Fairy Tale featuring a selkie's daughter

Character Study: Many Colors, read by @42donotpanic

Marvel, about Natasha Romanov

[sithfox]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox/Quinlan Vos

Characters: Quinlan Vos, CC-1010 | Fox

Additional Tags: Dai Bendu Language (Star Wars), Mando'a Language (Star Wars), CC-1010 | Fox is a polyglot, As are the rest of the clones tbh, Hurt Quinlan Vos, Quinlan Vos Needs A Hug, POV CC-1010 | Fox, Protective CC-1010 | Fox, Touch-Starved

Series: Part 2 of A Study In Scarlet, Part 7 of FoxQuin Week 2024

Summary:

Fox walks over to him, absently intending to wrap his arms around his waist, but the moment Fox brushes his bare skin he shudders violently, as if he's startled to be touched. Fox freezes in place.

Oh. He knows what's going on here.

[sofiasjornal]

House of Sky and Breath Review 🌙

I’ve been in a real battle over how to rate this book. Until I reached half of it I was entirely convinced this would be another five-star book but a few things irritated me enough to lower the rating a little. So here we are:

Rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ and a 90%! 

So let’s begin with the things that irritated me. First, the whole Danika thing. How many things can Danika hide from her supposed best friend until Bryce realizes she doesn’t know her at all? I understand why she hid the whole “we can end the Asteri” thing. But why hide Braxian and who her father is? I’m sure Bryce would’ve also preferred to hide the fact she was the autumn king's daughter. In HOEAB, Danika’s secrets were compelling enough to move the story, but in HOSAB, I thought it went overboard. Every time Bryce said “Danika would’ve told me/ she would not hide this” I really wanted to scream. Let’s hope this changes in HOFAS.

Another thing was regarding the references to Aelin. Like I said while I was reading the first two books, Bryce reminds me a lot of Aelin. I’ve felt the same with Rhysand in ACOTAR. I don’t how to explain it but I feel these two are very much connected with the Queen I love so much. What pissed me off was when her references started to be lampooned by other characters. Lidia saying “Liar I might be but at least I’m no fool” really and royally pissed me off. Aelin is Aelin. Lehabah’s “I'm not afraid” is much easier to accept because she was sacrificing herself, a parallel to Aelin’s entire existence. But I think it’s time to give it a break. Either put Aelin in HOFAS and let me be happy or let her rest in Terrasen. 

With that being said, let’s go to the good things! Everything I said about the first book applies here. I still wished we saw a little more of Ruhn outside the group and his romantic involvement with Lidia (that I knew was Day from the fucking start, so points for me!). I hope HOFAS changes that as well. For the next book, I think it would be really interesting to see the story or some parts of it from Lidia's pov! I’m assuming she will be the one that helps them all escape but we’ll see. 

Also, Hunt, Ruhn, and Braxian being prisoners of the Asteri really didn’t surprise me. Bryce is the key to everything so she couldn’t be the one to get caught and made prisoner. Hunt, I was almost certain because there’s something about himself he was still to figure out- the whole thing about him being bred for something else. Perhaps finding this out will be the key to escape and bring down the Asteri with Bryce? We’ll see! Now Ruhn was a surprise because I don’t see a purpose for his imprisonment other than the connection with Lidia. He has trauma enough, even though it’s rarely mentioned, so it can’t be to give the character some depth. We’ll see that as well! 

I want to fucking kill Celestina with my own two hands! I was so right about not trusting that bitch! So much love for Hypaxia, how will she explain she was partly responsible for them being caught and betraying them all? If Hypaxia doesn’t leave her crying on the ground I will!

Now, the best part of the entire book is that last chapter! I felt my heart racing through all of it! I ran from spoilers like they were the plague so I really wasn’t expecting this at all! Before Bryce was caught and she was looking over the map, I thought maybe there would be a reference or an indication about Acotar’s world or togs, but nothing. So I thought maybe there was nothing there. BUT THEN! Then Bryce goes through the portal and falls into the grass! Hell doesn’t have grass (I think!). And then “the demon” appeared with his black wings. And I started screaming! Because we know who has those black wings and scarred hands! That’s Azriel! And then all of them started to appear and my brain turned to mush. And that ending… “Hello, Bryce Quinlan. My name is Rhysand!” I SCREAMED! 

I’m very curious to see how this falls into the ACOTAR timeline but before I go into my theories I really need to reread this last chapter again to really set it into my head before starting HOFAS! 

But what an ending!! 

[snarkformysanity]

House of Earth and Blood Chapters 95-Epilogue

I tricked myself again. It's 97 chapters and an epilogue.

But we're nearly there. Nearly. Let's knock this shit out.

Bryce and Hunt go back to her apartment, where Syrinx is waiting, having opened the door. Apparently, Bryce doesn't know chimeras can open doors, and apparently hasn't learned it in however long she's been living with Syrinx. Whatever. I don't care.

Bryce starts crying, and Hunt carries her into her room. They spend a few moments reminding us of the plot and how awesome their respective adventures were. Conversation turns to Bryce's star power, and the horn. She's got a new eight-pointed-star mark, right between her breasts, apparently.

But his face grew grave. “You’re going to have to learn to control it.” “We save the city, and you’re already telling me I need to get back to work?” He chuckled. “Old habits, Bryce.”

Yeah, if you thought he was going to stop being a domineering ass, well, I have bad news for you. You're in a Sarah J Maas book.

And though the path she’d been thrust onto was royally fucked, and had led her through the lightless halls of grief and despair … Here, here before her, was light. True light. What she’d raced toward during the Ascent. And she wanted to be kissed by that light. Now.

Excuse me while I go retch.

Oh no. The book's going to subject us to another sex scene, an actual one this time, presumably. Fuck me, I thought we escaped scot free. More fool me. I wondered why chapter 95 was so randomly long compared to the other chapters in this section.

Hunt’s dark eyes turned near-feral. As if he could read those thoughts on her face, in her scent. “We have some unfinished business, Quinlan,” he said, voice roughening. He threw Syrinx a Look, and the chimera leapt from the bed and trotted out into the hall, lion’s tail waggling as if to say, It’s about time.

Yes, even the fucking dog ships it.

Anyway, they start getting handsy. We are once again reassured that Hunt has a big dick, in case we were worried.

But she pulled back, meeting his hazy, burning gaze. The words she wanted to say clogged in her throat, so she hoped he understood them as she pressed a kiss to his now-clear brow.

Yeah, cause communication is for shmucks. True love is when your partner can randomly read your mind. But only when it's dramatically convenient, of course.

Oh, wait, hallelujah, Bryce's mum calls and puts a damper on things. Yup, apparently Bryce thought banging Hunt was more important than letting her family know she hadn't been nuked out of existence, and now mum is worried.

Bryce decides that now is the time to take a shower, telling us that she's absolutely filthy. Presumably, that filth is now smeared all over her bed. GG Bryce. You clearly have your priorities in order.

“What’s that water?” “My shower.” “You save a city and make the Drop and can’t even give me your full attention?”

Oh, mum, you have no idea.

Bryce and her mother discuss Bryce's power, how it's more than the Autumn King's, and how the news broke the story of who her father is. POV switch to Hunt.

Hunt had a good idea of what Ember had asked her daughter. And wouldn’t you know, he’d been about to do just that with Bryce when she’d called.

He is once again contributing greatly to the plot. The world doesn't revolve around your dick, Hunt. You don't think, in the wake of all that's happened, that Bryce's mum might have something to discuss with her other than you?

He hadn’t cared that an entire city was looking on: he’d wanted to kiss her when the light of her power had faded, when Hunt had lowered his wings to find her in his arms, looking up at him like he was worth something. Like he was all she needed. End of story.

Haha. Hahaha. Haha. Ha....... no, no the book doesn't realise how creepy that is. Yikes.

Ugh, well, apparently Bryce's mum was talking to her about having sex with Hunt. I can do nothing but roll my eyes and wish for death.

Anyway. Hunt calls Isaiah. They don't really discuss much of consequence, but the discussion takes an entire page. Isaiah asks Hunt to come to the Comitium and help him, because with both Micah and Sandriel dead, it's devolved into a pissing match over who's in charge.

Hunt tried not to bristle. Bryce and him getting naked, it seemed, would have to wait.

Hunt angsts a bit about how he'll now be the possession of whoever takes over from Micah, how they probs won't let him see Bryce, or even let him live, etc, etc. You know, the usual. Then...

Unable to help himself, he glanced at his wrist. He blinked once. Twice.

Obviously, his tattoo is going to be gone, but the book can't just tell us that yet. No. We've got more fake tension to milk.

We spend a quarter of a page with a Bryce POV, where she gets a call from one of the Asteri. Then we end the chapter. And it's one of those annoying chapter breaks where the next one picks up exactly from where the previous one left off, which begs the question of why it was needed. Cheap, cheap, cheap.

Anyway, turns out the Asteri freed Hunt as a show of gratitude for Bryce saving the city, and all they ask in return is that she not use the Horn to open any demon gates. Seems a reasonable enough request. Hell, they're even expressly willing to overlook the deaths of Micah and Sandriel. Won't stop the book from blathering on as if this call is the most dangerous thing ever, though.

The Asteri make some veiled threats, and then give Bryce and Hunt their blessing. Cool.

Hunt asks Bryce to go to the Comitium with him. They go to the roof, but then realise their friends are down on the street below and go to talk to them. Fury is amongst them, which makes Bryce remember Juniper, and she goes to call her but.... her phone is somewhere in the city? What the fuck did her mother and the Asteri call her on, then? Does she have a cordless landline?

Ruhn is also with them, and proceeds to infodump all the cool stuff he got to do off-page after leaving the crashed helicopter. He confirms that, while people could hear Bryce calling from the gates, they couldn't really get to her on account of, you know, the hordes of demons in the way.

Anyway, the two hug.

Hey, speaking of Ruhn. Is anything going to come of that whole "claiming" thing before? Or has that been forgotten along with Hunt's dickishness?

Well, the siblings have a moment. Hunt even butts out for it. A Christmas miracle.

“You’re my sister.” Ruhn didn’t bother to keep his voice down. No, there was pride in his voice. And damn if that didn’t hit her in the heart. “Of course I’d come to save your ass.”

Ruhn warns her that the Autumn King is probably going to want to meet with her.

She arched a brow, tucking away the warning, and said, “Hunt told me about the mind-reading.” He’d mentioned it briefly—along with a recap of the Summit and everything that had gone down—on the walk up to the roof.

So the book is aware that it doesn't have to have characters repeating information we already know to each other, and can summarise the re-tellings? Why doesn't it do it more often, then?

Anyway, Ruhn gets a call, and leaves. Bryce looks back to Hunt.

Bryce looked to the rooftop across the street. Where the angel still waited for her, a shadow against the night. But no longer the Shadow of Death.

Had to get one last epithet in there, didn't you, book?

We get a summary of Bryce and Hunt working at the Comitium, until Bryce is too exhausted to continue so Hunt orders Naomi to take her home and keep watch over her. Because even though Bryce has uber power now, Hunt still isn't willing to relinquish control, I guess. She will be Watched.

Anyway, the next morning, she goes for a walk to the river. Apparently Tharion promised her the River Queen's full support.

Bryce hadn’t the nerve to ask whether that support was due to her being the bastard daughter of the Autumn King, a Starborn Fae, or the bearer of Luna’s Horn. Perhaps all of them.

Or, maybe it's because the merpeople are interested in helping to get the city back on track, and it has nothing to do with your various powers?

Bryce sits on a bench and looks across into the Bone Quarter. She wraps up a few loose threads with Juniper, and then in an honestly pretty heartwarming moment, answers Connor's message from two years ago (asking her to message him when she got home safe), and then deleting both his and Danika's message threads. As a gift for saving the city (or so Bryce assumes) the Under-King allows the mists of the Bone Quarter to part for a moment, so Bryce can see the wolf pack (bar Danika, who gave her power to get Bryce out of the Drop) waving at her. Then Hunt messages that he's back. Go away, Hunt.

There was an angel in her apartment. Which meant it must be any gods-damned day of the week. Which meant she had joy in her heart, and her eyes set on the wide-open road ahead.

No, I don't know what this means.

And now, the epilogue. It's Jesiba talking to Aidas, in cat form, and dropping hints about what will presumably comprise the next book's plot. Bryce's light is apparently the same as someone called Theia, who both Jesiba and Aidas knew, I think from the time the fae first came to this world. And some vague hints about Hunt's father being proud, so I'm sure his father will turn out to be a Big Deal later. But I don't care, because the book is finally, finally, FINALLY fucking over.

[redheadsdefender]

People using the Ember bonus chapter to hate on Cassian can't understand nuance and POV if it hit them on the head.

Cassian wasn't mad at Nesta because she "disobeyed" Rhys, he was mad because she put herself in so much danger by entrusting a Trove object to an alien who previously stole Truth Teller and because he knew that if the information got out, her life could be forfeit from the other High Lords, since it would be viewed as treason (it is said as much in the bonus!). He was mad because he was afraid for her, but still when Rhys berated her, he intervened when he went too far and he shifted closer to Nesta. Yes he didn't yell at Rhys, but Cassian has always tried to keep the fine balance between Rhys and Nesta, he has told both of them separately to give it a rest in ACOSF, but he tries to be diplomatic when both are there and you know what? Good for him. Good for keeping his family intact and not adding oil to the fire.

And don't forget that we get all that from the eyes of Ember Quinlan, a human woman hugely prejudiced against fae males (with good reason ok, but still, she made her own kid hate half her heritage, we see Bryce struggling with her fae side even in hofas and that's 90% the doing of Ember let's be honest here). So, the bias in the tone of the bonus chapter is clear. You think Ember would see Eris and think "oh yes this male deserves Nesta"? She'd probably hate his guts even more for looking alike the Autumn King.

Chronological Order:

This is what happens after Nesta tells Ember that Cassian -who still thinks he isn't worthy of both being Rhysand's brother and Nesta's mate- is the most furious with her of everyone:

Bryce comes back to give the mask back and for her parents. Bryce finds Ember, Randall, Nesta and Cassian sitting around a table, chatting, enjoying tea and chocolate cake.

Bryce recognizes by the smell that Cassian is Nesta’s mate and she finds him fascinating, vaguely familiar. (Hunt?)

Then Nesta stood up holding a knife, while Cassian reaches out for a hidden weapon as fast as thought. (Ready to end every threat to his mate, like a protective mate would).

Both Nesta and Cassian stiffen when Hunt enters in their world. And Ember reassures Cassian about Rhys' behavior.

When Bryce extracts Truthteller, Cassian is ready to jump between Bryce -with the knife- and Nesta (Again he is ready to give his life for Nesta)

Ember tells that she explained Bryce’s behavior to Rhys and Azriel (not to Cassian, because Cassian believes Nesta’s words and doesn't doubt her)

Cassian must have done something for Randall and Ember with Rhys as an intermediary, otherwise what reason would Randall have to thank him?

Then Cassian smiles and Bryce understands why Nesta is in love with him.

When Nesta is waving to Bryce, Cassian realizes it’s a personal moment and takes a few steps back, giving the girls their moment, but staying nearby to be ready if danger arises and Nesta’s life is in danger.

Bryce says that as all good mates do, she knows that Cassian is monitoring every move she's doing and that if she missteps against Nesta, Cassian will tear her apart.

When Bryce draws the star sword, Cassian stiffens.

Doesn't seem like he doesn't care at all for her, on the contrary Nesta feels that he is protective of her. She even with amused look defines he and Hunt "Alphaholes."

[mongooseblues]

The Ethics of Fantasy

When you decide your OC is usually healthy so if you want to catalogue every cold he ever catches you gotta jump around significantly in his timeline.

Anyway Cal is twenty-five in this small story of quiet caretaking and not-so-quiet pining.

- — - — - — - — - — - — - — - — - — - — - — - — 

It’s only been a week and a half, but when he opens a door he wasn’t expecting to hear a knock from and sees her there on the front steps, he realizes that pathetically enough apparently that was all it took to miss her, and then he’s grinning and giddy and not just from the fever.

“Josephine!!”

“Whoa hello, someone started in on the beer early,” she giggles, and steps forward, intending to give him a hug.

“Oh, no I’m not drunk,” Cal laughs, “just sick, also definitely contagious you probably shouldn’t—”

She silences him with an immediate hand to his forehead, and her discovery results in disbelief. “Cal?!?”

“I know,” he says, realizing he probably does look rather drunk as he turns aside to quickly cough into his fist and brings a hand to his chest afterwards and says, “Excuse me, sorry.”

He suddenly remembers why she’s here. “Oh my god we were supposed to study weren’t we?”

“It’s okay!”

“I am so sorry Josephine I should’ve called you, I lost track of… well, everything.” He leans away to cough again and follows it up with a swipe at his nose with the tissue permanently balled into his fist.

And then he takes in Josephine with his full attention — here on his porch with her wide eyed compassion and her parted mouthed smile with teeth so beautifully large that you can only ever really see eight of them at most on the top row and her mane of hair gathered into a braid so thick it must have been a struggle to gather and he doesn’t recognize this purple sweater so it must be new.

It takes him at least a second too long to register the question.

“Caaan I come in for a minute?”

“Yes, of course oh my goodness yes, please do, so sorry, it’s so cold out, snf! Where are my manners?”

“It’s okay!”

“I’m—” he starts, but is unable to get any farther than that, as he brings an arm over his face and the other hand to the wall to steady himself. His breath catches on a ragged inhale and he capitulates into sounds that speak of deep, established congestion and a war-ravaged throat.

“Huh’ZISSHH-JUE! Hh! h’GIZSHHH’jue!!”

He pulls himself back upright, looking at the result on the sleeve of his sweatshirt and less concerned about it than he probably should be. “Nguh, ‘scuse-h-GSHHYUE! snffffh! ‘Scuse me.”

“God bless you…” she says, brimming with concern.

He mumbles a stuffy “Thank you,” and visibly sways on his feet.

She touches his shoulder and softly says, “Why don’t you sit down Cal.”

“Not a bad idea.”

He assumes a safer sitting position on the couch and she keeps a hand on his back until he gets there, which is also honestly not a bad idea, because there’s something unnameable in his sense of perception that feels like it’s getting out from under him.

“My sincerest apologies in advance for this because it’s about to be disgusting,” he laughs lightly, before doubling over and blowing his nose productively a few times, one of which ignites a tickle fierce enough to pitch him forward into a fitful “K’SHHHyue! h-Hih’KSHHYUE!!” followed by a softly mumbled, “Goodness, snf! So sneezy.”

“Bless you,” she says, as he clears himself of as much of the newly resulted wetness as he can, and afterwards straightens up with some leftover snuffles.

“Ay yi yi, I’m sorry.”

“You sound so sick,” she says quietly, still looking him over like there’s something else concerning to be found there.

“Yeah I’m not feelin’ too hot,” he confesses, digging the heel of a palm into a teary brown eye. “Think I might have a sinus infection? I don’t know, I was sick over the break—snff!—and I was getting over it, but then these past couple days I started feeling super sick again, snf! I guess I may have just caught something else on the heels of the first thing.”

“You should see a doctor…”

“I know, snf! I’ll make an appointment. Did you still wanna study?” he asks, lamely but hopefully, because he really does want her here, which is probably a little selfish of him considering he forgot she was coming at all and especially considering he’s about to be rather lousy company.

She smirks. “No offense but I don’t think you’re in the best shape for studying.”

“Yeah I guess that’s probably true,” he admits, but now that he’s seen her he’s feeling needy and the idea of her leaving so soon is kind of making his heart ache. “But if you still want to, you can stay here and hang out? There’s beer and stuff.”

She turns her attention toward the TV, where there’s a paused movie on screen. “What were you watching?”

“Cinema Paradiso, oh Josephine have you seen it? I’m only like ten minutes in, s’nff! I can start it over if you want!”

Cal and Josephine were usually platonic but sometimes the edges blurred. There was fondness regardless. Sometimes, on Cal’s part, maybe too much fondness. He isn’t holding out for her, but he does like her. He does, occasionally, pine, yearn, imagine. And, he’s well aware, a one-hundred-whatever degree fever and Giuseppe Tornatore’s cinematic poignancy were not going to help any of that.

She smiles. “Yeah why not?”

“Yes! You’re gonna love it, snfff! You’re gonna cry like a baby and so am I.”

“Wait is it sad??”

“No no! It’s heartwarming and wholesome don’t worry, snf! I mean it’s a little sad but it’s not—”

“It’s not like… Bicycle Thieves is it?”

“NO, it’s not nearly as sad as Bicycle Thieves, snf! I promise. You’re gonna weep like a child don’t get me wrong, snff! but it’s very uplifting.”

Josephine laughs. “Like a child he says.”

He asks her about her week. Her sister’s two-month-old maintained eye contact with her as she held him, just staring into her eyes for at least a full minute and it was like he was looking into her very soul, and her family was well meaning about accommodating her veganism at Thanksgiving but not all of them fully understood the concept and thus there was a buttered mashed potato incident she fears her aunt felt guiltier about than she needed to.

She asks about his week. He stayed with Naveen’s family which was good aside from the night Naveen’s mother tried to matchmake and invited a potential marriage candidate to dinner who had been told Cal was studying to be a doctor, which while technically true was definitely not the sort of doctor she’d expected, and then there was an awkward phone call with his father and he glosses over the details and summarizes it as being ultimately positive even though once the words leave his mouth he ceases to believe them.

Then Cal seems to suddenly become preoccupied with something in the middle distance, and Josephine glances in the direction of the wall he’s staring at until he explains, “Sorry I think I’m abouttosneeze—”

Nose twitching, a lip tugged upward like a pink curtain lifting to reveal teeth in a panicked mouth — an involuntary display covered hastily by a tissue he all but collapses into, angled as far from Josephine as geometry will allow him.

He’s loud. “huh-EHHHkhue! Hh! HEHHK’KSHOO!”

“Bless you…”

“snfff! Thankyou,” he says, picking his head up but not daring to bring the tissue away, and mumbles through its folds, “God, snf! Making myself dizzy.”

“Ohhh Cal, poor baby,” Josephine coos, and Cal feels his face flush even harder in spite of himself.

He offers her a hazy half-smile and tells her he’ll be right back as he goes to the bathroom to blow his nose where she won’t have to experience it quite so much, and washes his hands with the thoroughness of a surgeon afterward.

When he returns he opens the fridge and says, “I got those IPAs you liked last time — do you want one?”

“Oooh yes please.”

“I did remember you were coming when I was shopping yesterday, I don’t know when it escaped me exactly,” he muses, opening just the one bottle to the satisfying snap-fizz of hissing carbonation and bringing it back to her on the couch.

“I imagine it probably had something to do with this absolutely terrible fever,” she says, again laying her mercifully cool hand to his forehead, but for longer this time. As if she’s trying to memorize in exact detail its creases. A plaintively whispered, “Sick baby.”

Cal couldn’t be sure what it was that ever set it off exactly, but sometimes Josephine would just suddenly start acting especially sweet and being very physically affectionate and they’d either end up cuddling or kissing, or on rare occasion fucking, depending also on factors he couldn’t be sure of. They got along so well and had such an ardent friendship that it was almost like sometimes there would occur a sudden unbearable spike of impossible fondness that could only be assuaged physically.

Now appeared to be one of those times. And for him those times always corresponded with wanting too much from her, more than he knows he should have, more than he’d ask for. On this occasion, the too much he wants is to be able to settle his head in her lap, for her to card her hands through his hair. And he has a stupid vision of wiping a tear from her cheek when the movie eventually makes her cry—in a silly little gesture that might convey ‘You’re the kindest person I think I’ve ever met and your empathy is beautiful to me.’

“Have you taken your temperature?”

“I have not.”

“You don’t have a thermometer?”

“I do actually.”

“Where?”

“Bathroom cabinet.”

She fetches it. Cal hadn’t bothered because as far as he’s concerned a fever’s a fever, but if Josephine wanted to take his temperature she was more than welcome to.

Her response, when she sees the number, is not expressed in words. Just a pout and an empathetic hand to his cheek, coaxing his eyes to close and a quiet sigh to escape him, and as much as he’d like to keep her there forever he can savor only seconds of her touch before he has to break the spell, fold a tissue over his face and turn desperately away from her once again. Thrice again, technically, with tenting eyebrows and shivery sneezes forced to fight their way through the complexities of his congestion.

“Huh’IZSSHHjue! Hh-h! huh’KIISHHjue?! Heh-hh? Hiihg’KSSHHjyue! snfffh! Oi, snff. Excuse me, snffh!”

He sits back up, snatching a long chain of tissues one after the other like a panicked magician resorting to his final trick. Pressing them to his face with both hands, he mops himself clean of the whole messy production, finishing up with a shaky exhale.

Sneezing had indeed become a woozy affair and the congestion is heavy enough to make him constantly sort of breathless and almost claustrophobic, and the combination is so dizzying it’s a wonder he hasn’t managed to faint today.

Josephine appraises him carefully and says, in complete sincerity, “Well god bless your little heart, Cal,” which wouldn’t sound quite the same coming from anyone but Josephine and god he’s so weak for her and maybe always has been or maybe it’s just this stupid fever but he feels simultaneously euphoric and very very unwell and this seems in so many respects like a febrile fantasy he’s conjured and he needs her to touch him again to make sure she’s real.

Please just let her touch him again he doesn’t care how.

They start the movie finally, and once he’s fairly confident she’s enjoying it from her laughter and reactions to little eight-year-old flashback version of Salvatore as he runs around the movie house being mischievous and adorable, Cal’s thoughts drift back to her.  

She’d been in a relationship since she studied abroad in Athens, back in undergrad. He was a Greek man named Sandros, cheek-chiseled and curly haired like a marble statue. It was evidently an open relationship. No jealousy, she’d claimed, which sounded incredible, in the not credible sense, but she seemed happy.

It did feel morally grey at times, not on her part but on Cal’s, though Josephine insisted it wasn’t. Even so there was something about carrying out an emotional relationship with someone otherwise engaged that felt illicit at best, and Cal at one point found himself asking for clarification over whether hypothetically an emotional affair counts the same as a physical one or where exactly one crosses the line here.

She said it fell under the same subheading.

Of course he agreed with it in principal. It was a beautiful notion — that if you love someone you should want them to experience as much love as possible, even if it comes from other sources, and there was love there, between them. He loved her, in his way, and she loved him, in hers. Though he knew there was something more profound about the way she loved him than vice versa.

He feels like a drunken stupid Alcibiades in his violet-and-ivy crown, reflecting on the pure nature of Socrates’ companionship by bemoaning the fact that Socrates wouldn’t fuck him and where does such a man get off just going around making people love him and then lying next to them on the couch all night without touching them?

Because so similarly Cal wanted too much from Josephine, his peer but in so many ways his mentor, his Socrates, and it was certainly his own selfish desire that had him asking her to stay here, and there’s some irrepressible, despicable part of himself that will register slight disappointment when that sort of touching would not occur on this couch tonight either.

Not only did Josephine ask for nothing but she didn’t seem to want anything from him. If there were aspects of him she wanted, they were obtained in the normal course of their relationship, they weren’t occupied by imagined scenarios like the ones he conjured at night, or when his mind drifted from a text, or when they sat close enough to so easily picture the feeling of her skin against his. She wanted things how they were, he wanted them how they were not. His love was a desire and his desire an emptiness, and surely there was something metaphysically unfair about the insatiable nature of that desire in the face of such generosity as Josephine displays to him on a regular basis.

In a perfect example of this just now she grabs a throw pillow, places it across her thighs and beckons him, “Come here.”

And yet still he wants to touch her, but he won’t. He will take only this. He repositions the tissue box to be within reach and then lays his head atop her legs, and she welcomes him with a quick affectionate brush of fingers through his hair and he is lucky even to know her, and so much more so to experience her soothing touch and her sweetly spoken ‘Oh Cal poor baby,’ when he’s sick and wanting.

“Gosh, you are just radiating heat,” she frowns. “I feel like there’s an electric blanket on me right now.”

“Sorry,” he smiles.

“No it’s nice.”

“Oh—snf!—wait is it too cold in here?” he wonders.

“No no, hush. Just lie back, sniffles, there you go.”

He could happily drown in her softness and quiet murmured authority.

“Hey Josephine?”

She looks down at him and he continues. “You’re going to be… such an amazing professor, snff! I really hope you know that.”

“Well thank you Cal, so are you.”

“No but I mean it,” he says, looking at her like the world itself will stop spinning if she doesn’t believe him. “If you-h! Oh?”

He stops talking when a persuasive inhale tempts him, and he sits halfway up and brings an expectant crooked arm to his face to just kind of hover there, uncertainly, until he finally releases an unresolved breath, left with nothing more than a goofy look on his face and a vague sense of dissatisfaction. “False alarm, sorry, snff! I feel like I’m about three seconds away from sneezing at all times. Um—snf!—but what was I saying?”

“You were babbling.”

“If you were my teacher, Josephine, you’d be the best one I ever had. I mean you kind of are anyway.”

“You’re delirious, Cal,” she says, but it’s delivered with fondness.

He tended to get sentimental at higher temperatures.

Cal does manage for some minutes to get lost in the film, to let his mind drift from relentless moral philosophizing to Salvatore and Alfredo and the little movie house that could, but soon he starts feeling vaguely carsick from trying to parse sideways subtitles so he just stops reading them.

The other thing is that being tipped to one side this way is making his nose run terribly, so he sits up and says he’ll be right back, again.

“Did you want me to pause it?”

“Nah I’ve seen it before,” he says. “It’s actually kind of my ‘sick day’ movie.”

She says, “Aww.”

In the bathroom Cal wipes the sweat from his face, blows his nose, accidentally makes himself sneeze twice more, then again starts over. He’s being rougher on his nose than he probably should, and while he knows he’s tearing his skin up he’d much rather make his face tender than drip onto Josephine’s knees.

When he returns she offers a belated bless you and he asks her if she has a sick day movie. She does. Meet Me in St. Louis. That might actually be the cutest answer you could possibly have, he says, and then wills himself to stop talking.

“Oh sweetie are you shaking?” she notices, then, voice warm and honeyed like she’s speaking to a child.

“Just the fever,” he explains.

In a single rapid motion she slides the kantha quilt off the back of the couch onto Cal and he blinks in surprise as it lands on him and they laugh and he says oh thank you and drapes it over himself and she sort of tucks in the sides around him like it’s a sleeping bag.

“Josephine solves my problems once again,” he says, and then wills himself to stop talking, but harder this time.

Here with her, and a film he may well have memorized if it weren’t in Italian, he’s suddenly slowed and sleepy and he couldn’t think of a place he feels safer falling asleep and that very much includes being alone.

“I’m thinking about my nephew again since I brought him up to you. About the way he was staring at me.”

Josephine often talked during movies. It used to annoy him, but not anymore. Actually he does it too now, at least when it’s her he’s watching with. He sniffles and turns his head to give her his full attention.

“I feel like I didn’t mention this before but I wasn’t even talking to him really. I said hello but then it was just… mutual staring. Not staring like he was bored or zoning out but like he was completely fixated, fascinated... and I wondered what could possibly be so interesting?”

Perhaps the kindness and goodness in those strikingly green eyes he could sometimes be found staring into for a bit too long himself… How goddamn cheesy, thank god he’s not able to say things like that to her, thank god he’s not someone’s boyfriend tonight, that there’s no one right now who’ll have to listen to him in his wilting floral crown, fever-drunk and waning poetic.

“Maybe he liked the energy about you,” he says, hoping these words to be neutral enough.

“Hm, maybe,” she ponders, and during the pause he diligently studies the angles of her face as she’s lit by momentary television flicker. “But I felt like there must be something he knows that I’ve long forgotten.”

Cal smiles. “Some early, untarnished wisdom?”

“Yeah,” she says, thoughtful. “Whatever it is that makes the simple act of looking into another person’s eyes so apparently profound.”

She might be the most insightful, poetic person he’s ever—oh.

“Did I just… drip beer condensation on your face?”

She did, the cold droplet making contact with his cheek and catching him off guard, reflexively blinking.

“Only a tiny bit,” he grins.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” she apologizes, through laughter he joins into and outlasts, and then he has to sit up to cough a few times as a consequence. Her hand finds its way to his back and then helps ease him down when he catches his breath.

Leftover chuckles as they look at each other and Josephine more fully wipes the wetness from his cheek and Cal says, “That might just be sweat at this point-h? Oh wait Joh-h-sephine I’m—”

He pulls her hand away from his face and starts to sit up, forced again to shudder into the sleeve of this poor abused Georgetown sweatshirt before he can get anywhere close to the tissue box as a too-familiar sensation crashes through him like a wave.

“HiihGIZSSHHyue! HIISSHHiuu!”

At this point a wad of tissues finds its way into his hand and if he had time to say ‘You’re an actual angel thank you,’ he probably would, but instead he says, “Thay-” pushes his face into the tissues and sneezes so violently it disorients him.

“ihh-DJIISSHHH!shyue…”

Suddenly his ears hurt like he just got off a plane, and a small whimper he did not mean to set free gets swept out in an exhale.

“Aww sweetie, bless you. You okay?”

“Um—snff!—yeah, I think so,” he manages, through soggy tissues and stuffiness. “Sorry that was loud.”

“It’s okay I’m used to you.”

He gives up on going all the way to the bathroom every time he needs to blow his nose, both because it’s exhausting and because he feels dizzy just lying here at this point so standing would probably not be a very good idea.

After Josephine abandons the empty bottle she settles an arm across his chest and asks, “Is this okay?”

“Oh it’s more than okay,” he says. “Just wish I knew what I did to deserve such treatment.”

“Well it’s very simple, Cal. You don’t feel well and I care about you.”

His eyebrows are imploring and he wonders if she can see it on his face that he fantasizes about her and when he says it back he knows they’re saying different things.

“I care about you too, Josephine.”

“I know,” she says, tapping a finger to his nose, and for a moment he loves her too much again and it hurts, but it passes.

And later, not much later at all, when he drifts off during the movie she’ll very gently kiss the top of his head, and though half asleep he’ll think the word philia, and feel once more the purity of a love that wants for nothing.