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buckysimp101 · 2 years ago

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Everything the Light Touches (18+)- Chapter Eighteen

Mafia!Bucky x F!Reader

chapter warnings: fluff, angst, violence

Series Masterlist

Bucky’s lips were tingling. Fucking tingling from that kiss in front of his family and friends. A part of him had almost forgotten what it was like to kiss you, your last one having been only a week ago. But he hadn’t forgotten what it was like to hold you in his arms. The warmth of your body against his days ago when you’d thrown yourself into his arms, wrapped him into your embrace to thank him for getting Wanda to you in time for the wedding.

Ever since the combination bachelor and bachelorette party, Bucky’s brain had been in a fog, one that hadn’t seemed to lift until the doors opened to reveal you in a white dress on the arm of Tony Stark, making your way down the aisle towards him. There was a part of Bucky that was so thrilled to see you, a part of him that preened at the fact that his lifelong dreams, that he’d long since deemed unattainable, had come true. But those hopes and feelings were doused with a cool bucket of guilt and regret as he remembered everything that had led the two of you to this moment.

So he offered you a small smile, held your hand when he was supposed to and slid that ring onto your finger before pressing a kiss onto your lips, hoping they’d be able to provide all the words he couldn’t say, publicly claiming you in front of the world. You’d both walked away from the altar in a daze and it wasn’t until the photographer began gathering your friends around for pictures that either of you spoke.

“James…are you okay?” You breathed the words, almost as if you were afraid to hear the answer. And for once in his life, Bucky was completely unsure of how to respond. So he said and did the first thing that he could think of. He slid his hand to yours and intertwined your fingers before whispering.

“I am so sorry, sweet girl.”

He heard the hitch in your breathing and dared to look at your eyes, the tears swimming there as you took in your husband and he took in his wife.

His wife.

A dream that was made possible by everything going to absolute shit. A dream that would swiftly become a nightmare.

He raised his thumb to lightly wipe away the tears that had formed on your lashes and he thought he felt your body relax into his, if only a little bit, before he turned back around.

“Thank you, Bucky. For saving my life. I don’t believe I’ve thanked you for that yet. I’ve blamed you. Time and time again. For more years than I care to count. But I know you’re putting your life on the line to save me too and I just…needed you to know that.”

Your words were soft but intentional and Bucky could practically feel the emotion oozing out of your words. But he couldn’t respond. Couldn’t reply. A part of Bucky that knew you well, and had always known you, kept him quiet but urged him to hold your hand and give you a comforting squeeze before the pair of you were swept up in the craziness of the wedding reception before you.

Tony was the first of the family to approach the two of you and as he approached Bucky with fire and fury blazing in his eyes he stuck out his hand, Bucky accepting, and whispered with an intensity that would put Natasha to shame, “so help me, Barnes, do not make me regret this.”

Bucky gave Tony a short nod and a swift pump of his hand as the billionaire turned to sweep you into a hug, Pepper not far behind. As more family and friends approached the two of you, it turned into a receiving line, allowing the two of you to greet your guests as they were plied with food and drink and music began to start up in the hall. Bucky’s parents gave him a tight squeeze of a hug as they whispered good tidings to the two of you, and the people just kept coming. And coming. And coming. And while the family and friends had been in the front of the line, the back of the line was full of acquaintances, both legitimate and non, that wanted a look at the couple who would be taking Manhattan by storm. The couple that had essentially started a war.

He heard the whisperings of someone as they walked past the two of you stating, “she must be pregnant… you don’t leave someone, come back after ten years and get married immediately. She was cheating on Stinson with him, she’s got his child inside her and she’s trying not to be cast away like last week’s leftovers. When that’s all she’s good for.”

Bucky loosed a low growl and was two seconds away from stalking after the woman who’d spoken the words when the woman behind her shushed her before hissing, “they are in love and always have been. Why are you even here if you’re so ungrateful and spewing such lies and faith,” before stomping away towards the bar. Bucky made a mental note to thank her at some point during the night.

He felt a finger tap his wrist before realizing it was you trying to calm him down. He could tell by the look on your face you’d heard the words they had said but before he could assure you that he’d take care of you you shook your head and whispered, “it’s not worth it. They’re not worth it,” before clearing your throat and looping your arm into Bucky’s and speaking a little louder, “come, husband, let’s get a drink before we dance all night.”

Bucky swore he felt his heart float out of his chest at your statement, but he didn’t comment on it. He merely led you to the bar to get the night started.

It wasn’t long that the music for your first dance was starting and Bucky was leading the two of you to the dance floor as the chords to Jason Mary’s “I Won’t Give Up” began playing through the venue hall. Bucky’s hand was reaching, almost tentative, but you put a stop to that as you gently took his hand into yours and moved his other to sit on your waist as you laid your head on his chest and the two of you began to sway together to the music.

Your bubble was silent for a moment as the two of you took in the closeness, the proximity, the seriousness of the events of the day. And when you removed your head from his chest to look in his eyes Bucky felt his world fall apart and click back into place. You were his life. You were always his life. And nobody could take that away from him.

In that glance it was as if a moment of silent understanding passed between the two of you. A moment that felt more serious than anything you’d done so far on this momentous day. A look that said he’d burn the world down for you. And you’d let him.

Your stomach had been rolling all night out of fear of what you and Bucky had just done. Not the action itself, but what it truly meant and what it would bring. Wanda and Natasha had seen the look in your eye and had been steadily plying you with alcohol throughout the night while Bucky made sure you had food on your stomach and offered you bites of food whenever you would take a break.

You had danced with Tony and Bucky had danced with Winnie, each dance drawing tears to everyone’s eyes. You had the chance to thank Tony for his protection and his love over the years and you made him promise to let you visit whenever you wanted. He’d sworn he’d never revoke your privileges and that he expected to see his daughter all the time. Even if you did work together daily.

That had earned him a light hearted punch to the gut.

The night was beginning to calm down a little more and the toasts had started. Steve had given his best man speech as he relayed stories of the three of you in your childhood, stories specifically meant to bring a blush to you and your new husbands’ cheeks.

Your husband. James Buchanan Barnes was your husband. Of all the things you thought could happen when you came back to New York this hadn’t even made the list. And while the reason behind your marriage was glaringly obvious to you, you couldn’t help but bask in the feeling of warmth that wracked your body as you chanced a look at your husband.

Bucky was gorgeous, albeit a bit sweaty after dancing and charming people for the last couple hours, you could see where his hand had been run through his hair a number of times, his nervous habit. He was laughing at a story Wanda was telling, likely an embarrassing one from your college days, his blue eyes twinkling with laughter. Bucky pulled his hand from your grip to clap for Wanda’s toast and raise his drink in response, leading you to do the same. The laughter in the room began to quiet down as George Barnes took hold of the microphone, catching the attention of everyone in the room.

“Twenty years ago, this beautiful young woman came into our lives. And I knew that day that she’d change the world. That she’d change my life. My wife’s life. My son’s. You see, having a son is great and all and while he’s definitely done some things that have been silly at times and downright foolish at others,” he spoke with a knowing look in Bucky’s direction causing chuckles to abound in the room, most of them unaware about the latent heat sparking in the elder Barnes’ gaze, before he continued, “but the one thing he did right, was love this young woman with all his heart. Y/N, Winnie and I have never been more happy than today. Never more happy than to welcome you into our family. You’ve been a Barnes far longer than just today. And I am so happy to call you my daughter. We love you, sweet girl. And we just hope you’ll keep that son of ours in line.” His words were spoken with a sincerity that brought tears to your eyes and had Bucky clearing his throat and sniffling slightly. There were easy chuckles throughout the room as everyone lifted their glasses to toast alongside George.

“To my children. May their lives be one of protection, true love, and strength.”

The tears spilled over. You drank your champagne. And the music started back up yet again.

You watched George make his way over to where you and Bucky were sitting as he extended his hand in your direction. “Mind if I share a dance with the most beautiful woman in the room?” His eyes were twinkling under the dance floor lighting and you heard Bucky chuckled behind you as he loosened his arm from around your waist, letting you follow George to the dance floor.

“Don’t say that too loud, Mr. Barnes. Winnie’s around here somewhere waiting for you to misstep,” you teased, causing the older man to bark out a laugh as he spun you out onto the dance floor, teasing a laugh from you as well.

“She knows as well as I that she will always be the most beautiful woman in my life. But nothing compares to a bride on her wedding day,” his voice had softened as had the look in his eyes as the two of you danced slowly on the dance floor. For a brief moment you swore you saw the welling of tears in his eyes as the reality of the day sunk in.

“I’m sorry that this was forced on you, sweetheart. But I do hope you understand that it was the only way to help.”

You nodded, ready to tell him that you understood, that it would be okay, but he continued, “I will say, I always expected that when my son married it would be to you. Just never under these circumstances. But that boy loves you,” you inhaled a sharp gasp, your eyes flaring as you took in the words that George was saying. Loves. Present tense, not past. That was intentional. But before you could even speak, again, he spoke up, “he might not admit it, he’s probably not ready to admit it. But he never stopped loving you. And if this sham of a marriage shows him anything, I hope it shows him how wrong he was to hurt you. And how disastrous it would be to lose you forever.”

It was your turn to well up with tears and you opened and closed your mouth, the words you wanted to say evading you as George pulled you in close for a hug and to press a kiss to your forehead. “I’ve never been happier to have a daughter in my life.”

The tears fell.

George’s confession sinking in your stomach like a lead weight. Your brain taking the time to really take in the words he’d spoken. The words that would swirl in your brain, your heart, your stomach, until you were ready to deal with them.

People slowly began to filter out of the reception hall as the night came closer and closer to an end. Wanda had left not long before to go back to her hotel room and prepare to head back to California the next day. While the two of you were getting ready that morning you’d almost begged her to stay an extra day but she’d teased up and told you how much she missed her boys before promising you to spend time together while you visited with Bucky in just a few weeks.

Tony and Pepper hadn’t been far behind Wanda and now the only people left were you and Bucky, George and Winnie and Steve and Natasha as men scrambled to get cars ready.

You hadn’t planned for a fancy send off and you exited the hall with Bucky’s arm draped lightly around your shoulder as his mother babbled on about the gossip she’d heard regarding some woman who was cheating on some man and how it was ‘absolutely scandalous darling.’

“Sweet girl you looked absolutely breath taking tonight, didn’t she just take your breath away, James?” You could tell Winnie was baiting Bucky but he seemed just fine to fall into the trap as he responded with a touch of a growl.

“Absolutely stunning.”

Your breath had hitched yet again and the place where his arm touched you had your bare skin igniting in flames.

“Yes yes Winnie dear we know she was beautiful, no star has ever shined brighter. A regular Barnes family princess,” George grumbled as exhaustion began to seep into his features. You heard Bucky huff out a laugh causing you to face him to question what was so funny.

You saw the grin playing on his lips and opened your mouth to question him, when all of a sudden that grin dropped as fast as it had appeared, his eyes widening and his mouth opening to shout.

“GET DOWN!”

It all happened in a blink of an eye. Shouts erupted around you as loud pops sounded on the street. Your knees hit the ground before you could even gather your wits and you felt the physical presence of Bucky surrounding you as the sound of loud pops and screams reverberated through your bones. As fast as everything had been, Bucky had managed to slam you to the ground and reach for his gun as the gunmen had approached from out of nowhere. And his father had done the same. He threw Winnie to the ground next to you and proceeded to shoot at the approaching men, Steve and Natasha joining in as fast as they could. You could hear their shouts. A loud scuffle of feet as people ran. And then there was the squealing of car tires followed by a brief silence, accompanied by the sound of ringing in your ears.

A silence and ringing that ended in a heart-shattering, gut-wrenching wail.

A wail that would haunt you for the rest of your days.

The wail of a widow.

As Winnifred Barnes sobbed over the corpse of her husband. His blood covering your wedding dress and her hands.

The war had started. And it had claimed its first victim.

a/n: i am sorry. i am so, so sorry.

taglist:

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#mafia au #mafia fic #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky x yn #mafia!bucky x reader #everything the light touches #buckysimp101 #james bucky barnes #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #im sorry #i am so sorry #it had to happen

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girlmostlikely · 1 year ago

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COCSA is such an underrepresented form of sexual abuse. It invokes the most helpless sense of ‘what’s the point’ that it’s almost crippling. It’s easy in theory when the core concept of CSA is enacted by an adult against a child. There’s a clear cut perpetuator and a young survivor that is plied with therapy and compensation for a continued life with a semblance of normalcy. But when you’re a child victimized by another child it’s as if your trauma becomes a moot point. People will transition their speeches into the dangerous area of playing the devil’s advocate. Professionals will insist you try and feel a sense of empathy for them to have mimicked such behaviors in the first place. They’ll proclaim that the other child is just as much of a victim as you are until your issues become an equally shared weight. Only that’s not fair in the slightest because I was fine and I was normal. I did not ask to shoulder such trauma, let alone someone else’s. One day I was just a child and then one day I felt almost middle aged amongst preteen peers. That person has forever warped my worldview and plunged me into a miserable existence of obsessive measures, a broken foundation of trust, and severe body image issues that may never be truly readjusted. I can’t allow any new personal connection, the idea of sex turns my stomach, and I will never have children. They’re married now with children living the American dream. I lie awake and wonder if I’ll even be able to sleep at all.

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oliferbrooks · 3 months ago

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FULL BIOGRAPHY.

Name: Olifer Brooks

Gender & Pronouns: Cis Man. He/Him.

Age: Thirty-Seven Years Old.

Birthday: 12.04.1987

Occupation: Best-Selling Author. Ex-Navy Seal.

Neighborhood: Midtown

Length of time in Wilmington: Whole life.

Living situation: 3 Bedroom apt. With two male friends.

Negative Traits: Internal, Broken, Explosive, Overly-Sarcastic & Untrusting.

Positive Traits: Empathetic, Passionate, Quick-Thinker, Excitable & Playful.

Currently Playing On Spotify: I Can Change - Lake Street Dive.

Below the cut will include the following triggers. TW: Cancer, Parental Death, Depression, Injury, Mass death in Action, Military Discharge, PTSD & infidelity.

ABOUT

Born and raised in Wilmington, NC, Olifer had always dreamed of a life filled with more than this place offered. Dreaming of the world depicted in his favorite books. From Tolkien to Fitzgerald. And all he’d craved from the minute he was born was adventure. His father, a former RAF pilot, had ensured that Olifer was well-trained and involved in as many sports as he could be. Honestly, as a kid, he always assumed his father wanted him to be just like him.

But it hadn’t been that, after all, it’d been a distraction.

While his mother plied him with books, as many as she could — he found that was where his escapism always lay. His father was all about sports, as much as physically possible: all so he wouldn’t see that day by day his mother’s hair was falling out, the strain to afford medical care or the way she couldn’t come out to the sporting events anymore because it was too painful to get out of bed. Olifer hadn’t known then just how ruthless cancer could be until he watched it take hold of the person he loved the most. It was in this time, when it became something he couldn’ be distracted from anymore and his hand found the pen instead of just reading the words.

At first it’d just been his thoughts, his wants and dreams. And his wishes for his mother to get better. Journalling had always been where his best ideas sprang from. And from there be began creating his true love, coming to life on paper as he penned his first fantasy novel. It’d been terrible, and reading over his work, he’d thought it was amazing at the time. But he paved the way to what would become his true passion in life. During his high school years, he formed a close-knit friendship with a few loyal friends. And would meet the only woman that was ever able to catch his eye, no matter how hard he tried.

People who met the pair always laughed at the notion of long-lasting highschool sweethearts. They staunchly believed that it would only ever be them against the world. His parents had been the picture of true love. Married in their early twenties, they had not spent a day apart, and there was no doubt that their kind of love was unmatched. Only coming around once in a lifetime.

And that hd been exactly what Olifer wanted for his life.

Highschool wasn’t easy. Especially with the care that both he and his father took turns with. His mother, his top priority. But they always made sure he was allowed to enjoy his life — parties, football games, time with his friends. They never allowed Olifer to miss out because they knew it was a crucial time in his life and one day she would be gone. It came sooner than they’d expected. Three weeks before graduation, she fell asleep and never woke to see another sunrise.

Reeling from his mother’s death — all the love he’d held for writing evaporated. Struggling to pick up the books she’d once plied him with. He wondered if she’d been preparing him, giving him tools to help with the grief of her death. His father, distraught, found it hard to talk, their home becoming a silence that was so loud Olifer couldn’t stand being at home. It was here that the trio truly formed, although he and his girlfriend had been together for three years at this point, and his best friend had always been in the friendship circle — the three of them became inseparable. They did everything to keep him occupied.

However, once graduation arrived, that feeling of hopelessness grew stronger every day. He couldn’t write, he couldn’t read and believing his mother had more time — he’d forgone university applications for that year so he could care for her and spend the time he had left. Lost. Completely.

So it came as a shock when Olifer announced his plans for his future.

Olifer, without telling anyone, enlisted in the Navy. His new dream set on being a SEAL. He’d always been overly involved with sports and had excelled at most of them. But he never once discussed it with his partner, best friend or his father. His depression was evident, and he bore the weight of the loss on his shoulders. So they supported him, even if they didn’t fully agree with how he was going about his life — throwing away his true dreams for this…

But Olifer excelled. He became the top of his class. The rigorous training required to become a SEAL had only fueled him once he left. According to his discharge letter, his military career was distinguished by bravery, strategic acumen, and leadership. He never shied away. Fought with every breath that he'd had. Some even thought him insane about how he put his life on the line every single time. Olifer participated in numerous high-stakes missions worldwide, constantly travelled.

It was his third tour, stakes higher than ever when they were ambushed. One minute he’d been patrolling with his brothers in arms, the next, he was being med-packed on the field. His friends didn’t make it. And just like that, it happened quicker than he’d ever expected. He was done. Sent home, honourably discharged. But what was honorable about losing the only thing he’d done for his whole adult life?

Transitioning from military life might’ve been the hardest thing he ever hd to do. The surrounding people could see the marks that his friend’s death had left upon him, just as his mothers had. He wasn’t able to let it go. His partner did all she could, and while he was back, and as always, the hopeless romantic with her — he just wasn’t the same anymore. Nightmares, flashbacks…it all ate away at Olifer.

However, when clearing out the garage, he came across his old journals. He’d spoken about them in his group sessions with former veterans — but standing there with them in his hand, a reminder of his mother’s voice, he did something. Unwaning to keep living his life the same way. He began writing.

Maybe it was because he was finally re-finding his passion that he noticed that the only woman he’d ever loved was slipping away right beneath his nose.

That all familiar, vivid imagination fueled something he’d lost long ago, resulting in a successful fantasy book (a re-work of the one he wrote as a teen) which turned into a series that quickly gained a devoted following. His first two books became bestsellers, earning him a semi-famous status in the literary world. The protagonist of his series, a character shaped by Olifer’s own experiences, resonated deeply with readers, due to his ability to incorporate his battle field knowledge into realistic war scenes, and firsthand experience.

His rising fame saw money like he’d never known, even as a SEAL, but even with everything looking on the up — nothing could stay that good forever. He knew that. He knew he had lost his whole life. He’d meant to be on a press tour, but a last-minute cancellation saw him coming home, a bottle of wine in hand. Oh, how he’d fucking missed her. What he didn’t expect was to walk in, and catch her mid-affair with no one other than his best friend from highschool. The third member of the trio.

Broken couldn’t even begin to explain how this man felt. He’d lost everyone he truly cared for, but this one knocked him to his knees. Literally. The emotional fallout from this betrayal has left Olifer struggling. The argument they had that night was one for the history books — he’s pretty sure the whole street heard.

But he was still a gentleman. He left the house for her; he packed his stuff and by the middle of the following week — he was gone. Olifer was heart broken, unable to comprehend that he’d been so blind. So finding the advertisement for a house share was a blessing in disguise. Currently, he’s dealing with the loneliness of it all, and attempting to write his third novel (badly) — the flair is gone since he lost her, but he’s trying. Every single day.

#olifer brooks #biography #about

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avitus-ostrander · 2 years ago

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5 comfort characters & 5 tags

Thank you @sonderlativ for the tag

#1 - Varis zos Galvus (Final Fantasy XIV)

Many of my favorite characters are not necessarily comforting. I do not handle character death exceptionally well. After being brutally emotionally tortured by Blizzard for years as they slowly and agonizingly character assassinated and killed off a character I loved (who at the time was a comfort character, helping me recover from another character death), I was left unable to get attached to anyone.

Enter Varis.

I remember finishing the ARR MSQ and seeing him show up and thinking “ooh the new emperor is really attractive…” and that was kind of fun. I hadn’t experienced that sort of instant pull to a character in quite some time. It still took an act of will to allow myself to actually get attached to him. And then, after some agonizing, I decided to ship my player character, Aurelien, with him. This was the most self-indulgent thing I had ever allowed myself to do.

He also got me back into drawing after a multi-year hiatus. If anyone wants to see some random shipping pics, they can be found here.

He’s a serious, dedicated, deeply flawed person, and I love him immensely. Also, his relationship with my OC is possibly the only ‘healthy’ relationship I have ever written.

#2 - Millions Knives (Trigun)

This will come as a surprise to (probably) no one who is following me here.

So I’d been having a pretty difficult time and was struggling a lot. I’d pretty much given up on being alive and was just mindlessly counting down the days.

Then my best friend suggested we give Trigun Stampede a try. I was skeptical, because reboots often burn me and Trigun was something I loved from my childhood, but I figured if it sucked we could hit the bricks.

When Knives showed up and announced his presence by playing the piano, I completely lost my mind. I instantly felt something I had not felt in SO LONG. I regained the will to live. I felt EXCITED to be alive again.

I really tried to fight it for a few days, but I couldn’t. I gave myself an undercut. I smiled uncontrollably at any mention of anything even tangentially related to him. Hearing a single note from a piano made me feel like I was going to faint from joy. Finally, I confessed to my best friend that I was deeply obsessed.

The reason he does not make the number 1 spot is because this fixation has come with some serious emotional upheaval, as I evaluate some of my unresolved issues that I see reflected in him. And also, Varis is such a minor character that I just didn’t see that much negativity about him. Knives is in the spotlight a lot more, so it can be more challenging to just casually indulge without running into people who hate him.

No one has to like him and I can see why some people wouldn’t, but he brought me back to life and sometimes I just want to be able to feel happy about that.

[Honorable mention here goes to Legato for helping me through my Knives-based angst when it comes around. He was my favorite from Trigun in my youth and one of two characters I built a character shrine for (if anyone remembers those).]

# 3 - Erwin Smith (Attack on Titan)

This one is a bit more obscure in its reasoning. Levi was actually my favorite character in Attack on Titan, but I wrote this figure skating/hockey AU where Erwin is arguably the best figure skater in the world and, just before he can prove this in competition, he gets injured and has to give up his dream.

Years later, a bitter and aimless Erwin discovers Levi, who is participating in underground murder hockey tournaments, and decides to take him under his wing. Erwin regains his sense of purpose. Levi stops risking life and limb on a daily basis. And I got insanely attached to Erwin while working on this crazy AU.

There was a comic I was working on for the prologue for it, but I only got 3 and a half pages in, because I couldn’t figure out how to render the climactic scene. (for those interested: pg 1, pg 2, pg 3)

#4 - Yuri Plisetsky (Yuri!!! on Ice)

I swear I don’t exclusively like angry blondes…

But I might (almost) exclusively have them as comfort characters.

Yuri on Ice is in general one of my comfort shows. I’ve loved figure skating since forever, so an anime about figure skating was a dream come true! It doesn’t hurt that the main characters are adorable.

But this mega grouch was my favorite. He is angry and standoffish, but really soft on the inside. And he’s an incredible skater. What more could I ask for?

(Everyone should brace themselves for the potential that everyone on this list will be drawn skating at some point, if they haven’t been already)

#5 - Malokh Skullsplitter & Auralion Duskwither (World of Warcraft)

So these two are OCs. As such, I don’t have any great color pictures of them. I started coloring this one, but it’s stuck on a tablet that needs fixing. All of my other pictures of these two are even more outdated, so this will have to do.

I haven’t played WoW in ages and am not sure I ever will again, but I still love my characters dearly.

Aura is a Blood Elf shadow priest. Malokh is an Orc warrior.

Anyway, Auralion has been my absolute favorite OC for about… 13+ years now? Like everyone else on this list, he is an angry blonde. He’s also a (very slightly) older twin. When I don’t have a current obsession, I draw/write stuff about him. This is not his proper hair. This is his hair growing back after he was nearly incinerated. Here is a picture of how his hair normally looks.

While Aura embodies a lot of my struggles and I channel a lot of my angst into him, Malokh embodies a lot of the things I feel like I need. It’s about to get kind of personal here so feel free to skip to the end…

As a little kid, I had the misfortune of simultaneously finding out that death was a thing and that it could be violent and terrible, and I never felt safe again. My parents comforted me by telling me that I was not important enough to murder, and my takeaway was “these people won’t and can’t defend me.” So I decided I would be the person to defend the family. I became a very aggressive, very cruel person because I didn’t feel safe unless I was the worst person in the room.

But really, all I wanted was for someone to say they would protect me.

Malokh embodies all the things I wanted as a kid. He is fiercely loyal, compassionate, intelligent, patient, and he would absolutely wreck anyone who threatened the people he loves.

I have loved orcs since I was a little kid and first played the original Warcraft RTS game. There was something very comforting to me about being so big and strong that you didn’t really have to be afraid of humans.

I ship him and Aura in the red quadrant (because I do Homestuck style shipping for some of my OCs).

And Malokh has black hair, so he breaks the pattern!

Anyway, tagging: @skuppycake, @dragonofeternal, @evilgeometry, @setsuntamew, @arahith

No pressure if anyone does not want to do this or doesn’t have time! I tried to message everyone to make sure it was okay, but I am not sure if all of the messages got through. I was getting a lot of ‘message not sent’ errors and lately when I try to comment on posts it takes multiple tries for anything to show up.

#5 comfort characters tag thing #Not going to tag anyone mentioned because it would not be useful for anyone in the tags #I want to reiterate that this isn't necessarily an ordered list of favorite characters - just comfort characters #There are some characters I am deeply attached to that did not make this list. It was a tough decision.

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sheepinthebigcity · 2 months ago

Note

🚨Urgent appeal to every person with humanity🚨

Save us we die a thousand times every day

Since October 7, 2023, we have endured what mountains could not bear.

Since October 7, we have been suffering from the war and the siege. We have not eaten vegetables, fruits, or meat for a whole year. Save us.

We have been bombed every day since October 7th.

Since October 7th we have lost our dreams

Since October 7, we have been suffering from hunger, thirst and deprivation due to the siege.

Since October 7, we have been suffering from hunger, to the point that we have to eat animal feed.

We suffered from the lack of clean drinking water due to war and pollution. We live in an environment full of diseases

This is a small part of what we have lived and what we live every day

Save us from this brutal and barbaric war.🙏❤️‍🩹

VETTED BY BUTTERFLY NU 913

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/e/2PACX-1vTKQYInYewFiGUX4afdHK-rANJDT4dgOC4IV6elKYNvYI2HvOTf_6IsTqt5m2KXcr_pGxcqR8AvsAJi/pubhtml?pli=1

Verified by @gazavetters Our team at #GazaVetters has rigorously vetted and approved this campaign, earning it a spot on our official list at #32.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1YGgkXoyam7tnbXb-vqWsHFs3Puyf_xYeXY2dPrZQY1M/htmlview

Donation Link

https://gofund.me/b6d25f08

Instagram link to see the extent of the suffering

https://www.instagram.com/anas67804?igsh=MTNzcXJ1dzdkaTY4eQ==

TikTok link

https://www.tiktok.com/@anas.alshrafa8?_t=8pyoCOULsX7&_r=1

Thank you for your help

I've talked about this one before, it has since been vetted by TBE (#913) so donate

#fwihmm

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shinycantdoit · 2 months ago

Note

🚨Urgent appeal to every person with humanity🚨

Save us we die a thousand times every day

Since October 7, 2023, we have endured what mountains could not bear.

Since October 7, we have been suffering from the war and the siege. We have not eaten vegetables, fruits, or meat for a whole year. Save us.

We have been bombed every day since October 7th.

Since October 7th we have lost our dreams

Since October 7, we have been suffering from hunger, thirst and deprivation due to the siege.

Since October 7, we have been suffering from hunger, to the point that we have to eat animal feed.

We suffered from the lack of clean drinking water due to war and pollution. We live in an environment full of diseases

This is a small part of what we have lived and what we live every day

Save us from this brutal and barbaric war.🙏❤️‍🩹

VETTED BY BUTTERFLY NU 913

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/e/2PACX-1vTKQYInYewFiGUX4afdHK-rANJDT4dgOC4IV6elKYNvYI2HvOTf_6IsTqt5m2KXcr_pGxcqR8AvsAJi/pubhtml?pli=1

Verified by @gazavetters Our team at #GazaVetters has rigorously vetted and approved this campaign, earning it a spot on our official list at #32.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1YGgkXoyam7tnbXb-vqWsHFs3Puyf_xYeXY2dPrZQY1M/htmlview

Donation Link

https://gofund.me/b6d25f08

Instagram link to see the extent of the suffering

https://www.instagram.com/anas67804?igsh=MTNzcXJ1dzdkaTY4eQ==

TikTok link

https://www.tiktok.com/@anas.alshrafa8?_t=8pyoCOULsX7&_r=1

Thank you for your help

one year is madness!!

#vetted #vetted by multiple #will add link

0 notes

irleughlivelyatalanteangodfan · 2 months ago

Note

🚨Time is running out save us🚨

We need your help. 🙏😔🍉🍉

It has literally been a whole year and we are suffering from the woes and groans due to the brutal and barbaric war we are living through

.Suddenly our lives have been turned upside down. We suffer every day. We are persecuted every day because of the war and the siege.

In this war that ended all our dreams and hopes of living in safety and achieving our academic dreams and others

We suffered from the lack of food until we had to eat animal feed.

We suffered from the lack of clean drinking water due to war and pollution. We live in an environment full of diseases.

My brother suffered from jaundice, a disease for which there is no treatment in Gaza due to the siege and the lack of hospitals and clinics.

Yes, we suffer every day, and here I am, knocking on the door of help for those who have a conscience, a heart, and feelings towards us.

This is a small part of what we have lived and what we live every day.

VETTED BY BUTTERFLY NU 913

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/e/2PACX-1vTKQYInYewFiGUX4afdHK-rANJDT4dgOC4IV6elKYNvYI2HvOTf_6IsTqt5m2KXcr_pGxcqR8AvsAJi/pubhtml?pli=1

Verified by @gazavetters Our team at #GazaVetters has rigorously vetted and approved this campaign, earning it a spot on our official list at #32.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1YGgkXoyam7tnbXb-vqWsHFs3Puyf_xYeXY2dPrZQY1M/htmlview

Donation Link

https://gofund.me/b6d25f08

Instagram link to see the extent of the suffering

https://www.instagram.com/anas67804?igsh=MTNzcXJ1dzdkaTY4eQ==

TikTok link

https://www.tiktok.com/@anas.alshrafa8?_t=8pyoCOULsX7&_r=1

Thank you for your help

I am so sorry for all your suffering. I apologize that I cannot do more but reblog and share, I hope campaign spreads to as many as possible. I hope that you reach your goal as soon as possible and that all your loved ones reach safety and peace.

€10,761 raised of €50,000 goal! Everybody, please help!

#free palestine #gaza fundraiser

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caelenbielecka · 5 months ago

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BIOGRAPHY

Full Name: Caelen Bielecka.

Pronouns/Gender: He/Him. Cis Man.

Age & Birthday: Thirty-Nine Years Old. / 12.04.1985

Birth Place: New Bellevoux, La.

How long have they been in town?: His Entire life / On and off.

Living Situation: Lafayette Hills. Pinot Picasso - 3 bedroom apartment. The other two rooms are open to two male roommates for their bachelor pad styled living situation. It's a Bud Light and poker kind of atmosphere.

Occupation: Ex-Navy Seal. Veteran. Semi-famous novelist.

Family: Mother (Deceased), Father (Alive).

TW: Cancer, Parental Death, Depression, Injury, Mass death in Action, Military Discharge, PTSD & infidelity.

Born and raised in New Bellevoux, La, he'd always dreamed of a life filled with more than this place offered. He had always dreamed of the world depicted in his favorite books. From Tolkien to Fitzgerald. And all he'd craved from the minute he was born was adventure. His father, a former RAF pilot, had always ensured that Caelen was well-trained and involved in as many sports as he could be. Honestly, as a kid, he always assumed his father wanted him to be just like him.

But it hadn't been that, after all, it'd been a distraction.

While his mother plied him with books, as many as she could — he found that was where his escapism always lay. His father did it with sports: all so he wouldn't see that day by day his mother's hair was falling out,the strain to afford medical care or the way she couldn't come out to the sporting events anymore because it was too painful to get out of bed. Caelen hadn't known then just how ruthless cancer could be until he watched it take hold of the person he loved the most. It was in this time, when it became something he couldn' be distracted from anymore and his hand found the pen instead of just reading the words.

At first it'd just been his thoughts, his wants and dreams. And his wishes for his mother to get better. Journalling had always been where his best ideas sprang from. And from there be began creating his true love, coming to life on paper as he penned his first fantasy novel. It'd been terrible, and reading over his work, he'd thought it was amazing at the time. But he paved the way to what would become his true passion in life. During his high school years, he formed a close-knit friendship with a few loyal friends. And would meet the only woman that was ever able to catch his eye, no matter how hard he tried.

People who met the pair had always laughed at the notion of long-lasting highschool sweethearts. They staunchly believed that it would only ever be them against the world. His parents had been the picture of true love. Married in their early twenties, they had not spent a day apart, and there was no doubt that their kind of love was unmatched. Only coming around once in a lifetime.

And that hd been exactly what Caelen wanted for his life.

Highschool wasn't easy. Especially with the care that both he and his father took turns with. His mother, his top priority. But they always made sure he was allowed to enjoy his life — parties, football games, time with his friends. They never allowed Caelen to miss out because they knew it was a crucial time in his life and one day she would be gone. It came sooner than they'd expected. Three weeks before graduation, she fell asleep and never woke to see another sunrise.

Reeling from his mother's death — all the love he'd held for writing evaporated. Struggling to pick up the books she'd once plied him with. He wondered if she'd been preparing him, giving him tools to help with the grief of her death. His father, distraught, found it hard to talk, their home becoming a silence that was so loud, Caelen couldn't stand being at home. It was here that the trio truly formed, although he and his girlfriend had been together for three years at this point, and his best friend had always been in the friendship circle — the three of them became inseparable. They did everything to keep him occupied.

However, once graduation was done, that feeling of hopelessness grew stronger every day. He couldn't write, he couldn't read and believing his mother had more time — he'd forgone university applications for that year so he could care for her and spend the time he had left. Lost. Completely.

So it came as a shock when Caelen announced his plans for his future.

Caelen, without telling anyone, enlisted in the Navy. His new dream set on being a SEAL. He'd always been overly involved with sports and had excelled at most of them. But he never once discussed it with his partner, best friend or his father. His depression was evident, and he bore the weight of the loss on his shoulders. So they supported him, even if they didn't fully agree with how he was going about his life — throwing away his true dreams for this...

But Caelen excelled. He became the top of his class. The rigorous training required to become a SEAL had only fueled him once he left. According to his discharge letter, his military career was distinguished by bravery, strategic acumen, and leadership. He never shied away. Some even thought him insane about how he put his life on the line every single time. Caelen participated in numerous high-stakes missions worldwide, constantly travelled.

It was his third tour, stakes higher than ever when they were ambushed. One minute he'd been patrolling with his brothers in arms, the next, he was being med-packed on the field. His friends didn't make it. And just like that, it happened quicker than he'd ever expected. He was done. Sent home, honourably discharged. But what was honorable about losing the only thing he'd done for his whole adult life?

Transitioning from military life might've been the hardest thing he ever hd to do. The surrounding people could see the marks that his friend's death had left upon him, just as his mothers hd. He wasn't able to let it go. His partner did all she could, and while he was back, and as always, the hopeless romantic with her — he just wasn't the same anymore. Nightmares, flashbacks...it all ate away at Caelen.

However, when clearing out the garage, he came across his old journals. He'd spoken about them in his group sessions with former veterans — but standing there with them in his hand, a reminder of his mother's voice, he did something. Unwaning to keep living his life the same way. He began writing.

Maybe it was because he was finally re-finding his passion that he noticed that the only woman he'd ever loved was slipping away right beneath his nose.

That all familiar, vivid imagination fueled something he'd lost long ago, resulting in a successful fantasy book (a re-work of the one he wrote as a teen) which turned into a series that quickly gained a devoted following. His first two books became bestsellers, earning him a semi-famous status in the literary world. The protagonist of his series, a character shaped by Caelen’s own experiences, resonated deeply with readers, due to his ability to incorporate his battle field knowledge into realistic war scenes, and firsthand experience.

His rising fame saw money like he'd never known, even as a SEAL, but even with everything looking on the up — nothing could stay that good forever. He knew that. He knew he had lost his whole life. He'd meant to be on a press tour, but a last-minute cancellation saw him coming home, a bottle of wine in hand. Oh, how he'd fucking missed her. What he didn't expect was to walk in, and catch her mid-affair with no one other than his best friend from highschool. The third member of the trio.

Broken couldn't even begin to explain how this man felt. He'd lost everyone he truly cared for, but this one knocked him to his knees. Literally. The emotional fallout from this betrayal has left Caelen struggling. The argument they had that night was one for the history books — he's pretty sure the whole street heard.

But he was still a gentleman. He left the house for her; he packed his stuff and by the middle of the following week — he was gone. Caelen was heart broken, unable to comprehend that he'd been so blind. So finding the advertisement for a house share was a blessing in disguise. Currently, he's dealing with the loneliness of it all, and attempting to write his third novel (badly) — the flair is gone since he lost her, but he's trying. Every single day.

#caelen bielecka #biography

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genieife · 8 months ago

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How Geniefie is revolutionizing travel planning app

In today's fast-paced world, planning a trip can often seem like a daunting task. From booking accommodation to arranging activities and arranging transportation, the process can quickly become overwhelming. Fortunately, technology has come to the rescue with innovative solutions like Geniefie, an innovative travel planner app that is changing the way we travel.

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Personalized recommendations:

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Diploma: In summary, Geniefie is revolutionizing travel planning by providing a seamless, personalized, and community-focused approach to adventure. Geniefie enables travelers to explore the world safely and easily with innovative features and a user-friendly interface. Whether you're on a solo expedition or planning a group trip, Geniefie is the ultimate companion to make your travel dreams come true. Download the app now and experience future travel planning first hand.

Are you tired of the hassle of coordinating multiple services to plan your trips? Say goodbye to the chaos and welcome a new era of seamless travel planning with Geniefie. Our magical trip planner app redefines your journey by integrating every aspect of your travel experience into one unified platform. Whether you're embarking on a solo adventure, a group excursion, or a spontaneous nano trip, Geniefie has you covered. From itinerary creation to booking accommodations and finding the best travel deals, Geniefie effortlessly handles every detail of your trip. Stay tuned as we explore more features that will enhance your travel experience. Get ready to elevate your journey with Geniefie, the ultimate free trip planner app! Download now and experience the difference.

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#plan my trip #travelapp #seamlesstravel #adventureplanning #itineraryplanning #Geniefie

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nhrkythoughts · 11 months ago

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B-E-A-U-T-Y

When I was a child, I saw people using the standards of beauty as fair complexion and non fair complexion to measure goodness of character, observed it more in my peers. Or maybe at such age,children take their parents view of things as their own(most of the time).

Then there was teenage where I was not the expected standard complexion due to summer swimming classes lol and did not attention much attention from boys .Well not that I cared,but certainly was curious to know how it felt to be a standard pretty.Bought and used a lot of makeup and actually enjoyed it.

Maa refused to allow me swimming next summer.Took me to cosmetic stores and bought me whitening cosmetics.This time,I was not okay with it.I would have rather spent that money on some girly novel I wanted.

On the brighter side,there is my dad, obviously, am a daddy's little princess.I have been victim of being his model to his photography , secret candid (which are societally ugly ) photos he takes of me.He accepts my beauty when I raise my voice against him,sees beauty in my tears,care and frustration. After all,how can he not? I have inherited his crazy facial expressions.I have lived with my younger brother for 16 years and I do not know what his beauty opinion of me is.What matters is he loves me and that he choose to share that opinion with me.

I have been on both the sides.I have seen how I was advantaged when perceived as beauty and how I was disadvantaged when I wasn't

How in one school in one grade,I was just a regular face among boys and how in other school other grade,every boy wanted to be with me. I was lucky that all the sets of girlfriends in my life found and find me beautiful inside and out.

Society! Ahhh….When any familiar member of society(Indian of course) meets you after a long time, you receive a mandatory comment on your physical appearance is very critically analyzed whereas 'how are you' is asked for formality. Good to not experience it much these days.

Somewhere, I jumped from society perspective of beauty to more logical, scientific and happy one.

I am at a stage where question of my beauty self doesn't cross my too often. After several busy days,when I look at myself in mirror,I go…' Damn,It's been a long time I saw my face' Then my face assessment is based more on my emotional mood of face rather than beauty.

I find my beauty in my raw existence… tangible or intangible.So, no brightening skin creams, no talc,never waxed or will,never threaded eyebrows or will.And no validation from any other human being is needed.My twisted mind dreams of receiving guinness world record for body hair someday.

I am in love with my face coz it is capable of making millions of expressions. It is fascinating to see the faces of my parents in mine.I am capable of choosing beautiful or ugly….inside or out

I reject being perceived as externally beautiful and not internally beautiful.I reject being perceived as internally beautiful and not externally beautiful.

But now, Maa still nags me to put effort in getting fairer complextion,so many failed attempts to get me into expensive meaningless parlour dependence for beauty.People continue to give me free advice on getting fair. Their intentions ain't bad though, mostly based on social opinion. Everyone is entitled to their opinion no? It's my choice to let their opinions form mine or not.

Face is just a natural dress on skull for the purpose of identification by other faces,the standard beauty is bound to fade away with time.

Isn't is beautiful phenomenon that every face is unique and is a product of millions of dna updates? That's an ineffable beauty .Yeah,yeah….One might argue,there are at least 7 faces like yours.Well,it's not so often you come across more than 1 of them, Do you?( Yaar…. Look alike twins are also pretty rare :p..Ayyoo! No Kodinhi plis)

Beauty of the inside? I am deep sonderer. so you are, by default of your unique life journey are beautiful….good beautiful or bad beautiful.

Real genuine smile makes anybody beautiful.Highest form of beauty is self-obsessed and selfless love, positive mind,non judgemental heart-all in one soul!

Time gives you more time to you to see my beautiful or ugly face and less time for me to see myself.How you deal with it is none of my business.

Make yourself feel beautiful, be it make up,no make up, following societal standards or not…. anyway which would make you feel beautiful.Obviously,only if you feel the need to feel beautiful.Like life goes up and down…beauty also goes up and down.That's the beauty.

What's most beautiful? The Sky!

PS.My nose is prettier than yours 😜

-Demonic Angel Beauty

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svyat0s · 2 years ago

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257. Ĉu vi sciis ke hodiaŭ estas la naskiĝtago de Beulah Louise Henry? Nun vi scias. Kial mi markis ĝin? Ĉar ŝi estas aŭtoro de proksimume 110 inventoj.

Kaj la letero "I' elfalis. Invento. Hodiaŭ mi proponas revi/aŭ rememori de infanaĝo, ĉar tie ni ĝenerale faras neregeble/kaj proponas/donu ideon, kiu ŝanĝus vian vivon aŭ ni ĉiujn. Aŭ igis ĝin pli facila/pli komforta.

#Mi_ĉi tie_eterneco

Anaso, ĉi tiu. Jam ekzistas tia ideo, komunismo.

Ĝenerale, ideoj kiuj plibonigas vivon, pli ol maro. Sed feŭdismo ne permesas ilin efektivigi. Ne, ne kapitalismo, kapitalismo estas same kiel sistemo, por la enkorpiĝo de ĉiuj ideoj, nur ne por homoj, sed por gajni monon. Sed feŭdismo estas konservativa sistemo, legu la difinon, ne temas nur pri tero. Vi estas simple malklera se vi pensas tiel. Unu el la samaj seriozaj signoj de feŭdismo estas la laborrenkontiĝoj. Fikaj kohortoj, kiuj ne enlasas novajn ideojn kaj novajn ludantojn eniri, ĉi tio estas dividita merkato, ĉi tiuj estas monopoloj, ĉi tiuj estas kontraktoj. Kapitalismo batalis kontraŭ ĝi. Ni kutimas riproĉi lin, kaj certe pro la afero, sed sciu, kapitalismo, kiu venkis la nunan feŭdismon, multe pli facilas la vivon al la homoj. Kapitalismo ĉiam estas malamiko de la homaro, sed ĝenerale mi kredas, ke kapitalismo ne estas sistemo, sed ĉiam nur meza etapo. Longa vivo estas neebla sub kapitalismo, ĝi aŭ evoluos al socialismo, aŭ glitos malsupren, degradis, sin defendante, al feŭdismo.

Do jes, socia socio multe plibonigus la vivon de homoj.

#Mi_estas_ĉi_tie_eterneco

257. Do you know Beulah Louise Henry's birthday is today? Now you know. Why did I mark it? Because she is the author of approximately 110 inventions.

And the letter "I". That same invention. Today I propose to dream / or remember from childhood, because there we generally do it uncontrollably / and offer / give an idea that would change your life or all of us. Or made it easier / more comfortable.

#I_here_eternity

Uh well... There is such an idea already, communism.

In general, ideas that improve life more than cosmos. But feudalism does not allow them to be implemented. No, not capitalism, capitalism is just like a system, for the embodiment of all ideas, only not for people, but for making money. But feudalism is a conservative system, no, damn it, read the definition, it's not just about land. You are simply ignorant if you think so. One of the same serious signs of feudalism is the work strict groups. Fucking cohorts that do not let new ideas and new players in, this is a divided market, these are monopolies, these are contracts. Capitalism fought against it. We are accustomed to scolding him, and certainly for the cause, but you know, capitalism that has defeated the current feudalism would have made life much easier for people. Capitalism is always an enemy to mankind, but in general I believe that capitalism is not a system, but only an intermediate stage. A long life is impossible under capitalism, it will either develop into socialism, or slide down, degrade, defending itself, into feudalism.

So, yes, a social society would greatly improve people's lives.

#I_am_here_eternity

257. Сегодня день рождения Бьюлы Луизы Генри? Теперь знаешь. Почему я отметила именно ��ё? Потому что она автор приблизительно 110 изобретений.

А выпала буква И. То самое изобретение. Сегодня предлагаю пофантазировать /или вспомнить из детства, потому что там мы вообще безудержно это делаем/ и предложить/дать идею, которая изменила бы твою или всех нас жизнь. Либо сделала легче/комфортнее.

#Я_здесь_вечность

Дак, эта. Есть такая идея уже, коммунизм же.

Вообще, идей, улучшающих жизнь, ну просто море. Но феодализм не дает их воплощать. Нет, не капитализм, капитализм-то как раз, как строй, за воплощение всех идей, только не ради людей, а ради заработка. А вот феодализм - это консервативный строй, нет, блин, читайте определение, это не только про землю. Вы просто невежи, если так считаете. Один из таких же серьезных признаков феодализма - это цеха. Сраные когорты, которые не пускают новые идеи и новых игроков, это поделенный рыночек, это монополии, это договоры. С этим боролся капитализм. Мы привыкли его ругать, и безусловно за дело, но знаете, победивший теперешний феодализм капитализм и то бы сильно облегчил жизнь людям. Капитализм все враг человечеству, но я вообще считаю, что капитализм не строй а всегда только промежуточный этап. Невозможна долгая жизнь при капитализме, он либо разовьется в социализм, либо скатится, деградирует, защищаясь, в феодализм.

Так что да, социальный социум бы сильно улучшил жизнь людей.

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leiawritesstories · 3 years ago

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The Assassin And The Princess

Aelin Week, Day 6: Child Aelin

Word count: 3,062

Warnings: um.....I apologize in advance. That is all.

Opening line belongs, of course, to SJM. Alternate canon setting--basically, there’s no Valg and no Maeve, but that doesn’t mean shit won’t go down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time in a land long since burned to ash, there lived a young princess who loved her kingdom. And her family. And the magic that had blessed her, the flames that thrived in her soul. Aelin of the Wildfire, they called her, the Heir of Mala. Her parents called her Fireheart, for the flames brightened her life, animated her heart.

That princess died a long time ago.

Aelin lived only in a secret, quiet corner of the young assassin-in-training’s heart, a lovely dream that she only allowed herself to dream when she was alone, when she was safe, when she had collapsed into her squeaky bed at the Keep after a grueling day of training exercises and not nearly enough food.

It was a survival measure. Because Aelin could not live in the Assassins’ Keep, but Celaena could. Celaena Sardothien, the half-drowned girl with red-blonde hair who’d washed up along the Florine River barely a stone’s throw from the Keep last winter and had immediately been taken in by the ruthless, coldhearted (if he even had a heart) leader of the Assassins’ Guild. Arobynn Hamel had claimed he “saw great potential” in the slight, coughing, half-drowned girl and had taken her in, given her a place to sleep, and promised her on that first night that one day she would be the greatest godsdamned assassin the world had ever seen.

Aelin--no, Celaena--laid on the unfamiliar, uncomfortable bed that night and breathed as deeply as she could over and over and over again, repeating her new name to herself until it had sunk into her mind. She was Celaena Sardothien, her parents had died in the plague, and she’d traveled to Rifthold to live with her aunt and uncle, only to discover that they too were dead. How had she ended up floating down the river? She only remembered getting thrown out of a restaurant, the owner screaming that they “didn’t take in no godsdamn wharf rats!”

And so Aelin Ashryver Galathynius became a child of the past, presumed dead along with her parents in the devastating plague that had swept all of Erilea. The last thing she’d done as Princess of Terrasen was slip into Lady Marion Lochan’s room and beg her governess to shift her appearance just a little bit, just enough to hide her true identity.

“I’ll learn how to change myself back,” she swore, her earnest young eyes wide. “I promise.”

Lady Marion, seeing her earnestness, had agreed and had made her hair this new color, had tinted her eyes from turquoise to blue, hiding the distinctive gold ring that marked her as an Ashryver, had made her just a smidge taller and leaner than she was. Looking into the mirror, Aelin touched her new face, not quite recognizing herself with these new features.

“Go,” Lady Marion whispered, holding the door open for her. “And may Mala herself protect you, Princess.”

“I’m not ‘Princess’ anymore,” Aelin whispered back, daring to give the woman who’d been at her side since she was a little girl a brief hug before she slipped out into the night.

She’d spoken the truth. No longer was she Princess Aelin Ashryver Galathynius. Now, she was Celaena Sardothien, orphaned by the plague, running to a new city in a new kingdom to escape the disease. To escape herself, for if she remained in Terrasen, the lords of the council would surely find her and would surely use her as their puppet to gain control of the kingdom. Her only option was to leave for a time and go somewhere where she could develop her strength, her knowledge, her skills, and then return once she’d come of age and claim her rightful throne. So she chose Rifthold, home to Erilea’s finest academy of magic (as well as numerous Guilds who plied other, less tasteful trades) to be her new home.

Ending up in the Assassins’ Keep had been...unexpected. But that didn’t mean it was entirely useless; in fact, the more Aelin considered it, the more she realized she could adapt her plans to fit where she’d ended up. After all, the Assassins were perfectly respectable on the outside, providing security to royalty and nobility and other important personages. And a quick, quiet death when paid properly, but that part was kept as silenced as their assassinations. Who was she to turn down the offer of training with the Guild? It was a golden opportunity, and any princess-in-hiding would be lucky to have it.

By the time she was sixteen, Celaena was arguably the best apprentice in the Assassins’ Guild. Her Fae heritage--surprisingly common among the Guild’s apprentices, at least four of the seven had some Fae blood--granted her an extra little boost of speed and strength during training exercises and the great advantage of immortal stealth during both training and assignments.

And if some of her status as the top apprentice had been beaten into her by Arobynn Hamel, the Lord of the Assassins, so be it.

Every scar and mark on her body told a story, each of them a reminder of something she had done. Or something she’d failed to do. The slender line slashing across her upper left arm--the time she’d dodged a hidden stiletto wielded by the man she’d been assigned to take out. She’d taken him out all right. The time she’d been in bed for a week with broken ribs--leaping from a third-floor window during a training exercise, only to find that there was nothing to soften her fall except her Fae form and her own ability to tuck and roll. The bruises and scrapes that so often marred her knuckles--testament to the hours she devoted learning and perfecting hand-to-hand combat. The slight knots in the middle knuckles of three fingers of her left hand--healed fractures from when Arobynn had slammed a door closed on her hand. “Tolerance under pain,” he’d snarled. The slim white lines scattered across her upper back--lash marks. From the military-level punishments inflicted upon the apprentices for any kind of misconduct. Not all of the lash scars she bore were her own; she was known to snark at whoever was dealing out the lashes to spare her fellow apprentices the torment.

Her snark had both won her the gradual respect of her fellow apprentices, who though they would never admit it, admired her ability to take their lashings with barely even a grunt, and the notice of Hamel himself. Who was the reason she could take the lashings with barely a grunt. He’d begun giving her extra trainings when she was around eleven, pulling her aside at the end of the day to teach her another form of combat, or to make her show him what she’d learned that day, or to send her along with a team going off on an assignment so she could watch and learn, or whatever else he wanted to make her do.

I am going to make you the greatest godsdamned assassin the world has ever seen, Celaena Sardothien.

The words echoed in her brain, her heart. As she grew older, as his training sessions grew more grueling and the pain he inflicted upon her more severe, she began to hear the echo of the words he hadn’t spoken to her.

I am going to make you the greatest godsdamned assassin the world has ever seen, Celaena Sardothien, and I will use whatever methods I deem necessary to do so.

So she gritted her teeth and bore the pain of her training, chanting over and over that it would make her stronger. You do not yield. Words from long, long ago, whispered into her young ear by a woman whose face Celaena had nearly forgotten. My Fireheart. You do not yield. No matter what face she wore, she would not yield. Did not yield.

Each stroke of the whip only made the fire within her burn brighter, burn hotter, made the leash she’d learned to keep it on tighter and stronger.

For she could only show a bare hint of her gifts, lest one of the more cunning Assassins grow suspicious and start snooping around about her flames. And discover in all too little time that there was only one person in recent history with a gift as powerful as hers--her. Aelin. No! Not Aelin. Celaena.

She could not let herself be discovered. Not here. Not yet. She still had several years before she came of age, before she could spiral down into the well of her magic and erupt into crackling wildfire, burning down every darkness in her path until she reclaimed her rightful throne.

She hadn’t spent these last several years taking magic lessons at the Academy on top of her training--and on her own coin--for nothing. After all, she’d made Lady Marion a promise, and she very much intended to keep it.

Perched on a rooftop, her black clothing and mask blending her seamlessly into the shadows, Celaena pressed her pointed ear right up to the edge of the skylight, tuning her Fae hearing in on the voices inside the building. She tended to wear her Fae form when out on scouting assignments; the immortal senses were just so much sharper than human ones, even with the amount of training she’d put into expanding her human senses, and whispered conversations were usually only audible to someone with immortal ears. And this assignment was no different that the others she went on.

Except that it was.

Because this was the skylight above the council room of the Assassins’ Keep she had her Fae ear pressed against, straining to pick up the hushed murmurs of Arobynn and his lackeys.

Celaena knew the Keep was heavily warded, the skylights and any other point through which someone could potentially hear a conversation even more so. She knew all of the security measures, both magical and non-magical, that protected every square inch of the ornate, though not out of place, redbrick mansion. Years of training exercises and careful study had familiarized her with every last corner of the grounds.

And had given her the hints that something wasn’t quite right within the Guild. Yes, she knew that their public façade was the guise of armed security, and that it worked rather well, but inside the Guild, there were multiple ideas as to just how the Assassins ought to operate. Keep up the public and private businesses, bringing in money from both sides, or cast off the cover of their public appearance and become as infamous as their name suggested? Or dip into the waters of torture, as one of Arobynn’s right-hand men seemed to be advocating.

Snatches of the debate in the council room floated into Celaena’s pricked ears, bits and pieces of arguments that she filed away in her memory.

Abandon the public act...know we’re behind...disappearance anyway...no questions asked...lucrative profit...Rifthold under control...monarchy...magic-wielders...why bother with pretenses?

“Magic-wielders.” Now that caught her interest especially. What the hell could the Assassins want from magic-wielders? Sure, small gifts like those possessed by some of the Guild members--insignificant things like uncanny stealth, light hands for pickpocketing, the ability to mimic voices, a handful of people with small healing gifts, and her own fire gift--were rather useful on the job, but something told her they were talking about the more advanced magic. The kind possessed by the students and staff and alumni of the Academy. But what the hell could they want with that?

She pressed her pointed ear back against the skylight, checking her watch quickly to make sure she was still on schedule. Perfect. At least ten more minutes before any of the Assassins on security detail passed by this part of the Keep.

...magic under our control...Rifthold...ours...two points already stabilized, the third is here...temple...expand over all of Erilea with proper casting...empire...

She’d heard enough. More than enough. Celaena’s mind raced, whirling with the implications of what she’d picked up. Silent as the night itself, she slipped away, inched down the brick façade of the Keep, slipped back inside through an incredibly well-hidden secret entrance and covered it back up, locking it behind her just as she’d discovered it, and made her quick, silent way back to her rooms, her Fae form granting her immortal speed and stealth until she shifted back into her human form, her mind still reeling.

Arobynn was planning some...spell? Some ritual? Something that would...that would confine and control magic all across Erilea.

Holy hell.

Holy burning hell.

He was going to make himself master of all the magic-wielders. And then use them to rip the continent into shreds under his ruthless, bloody hands.

The only question that remained was...when?

In the weeks and months that followed, Celaena stifled everything she knew and theorized about Arobynn’s plans, ordering herself to keep her mind clear of all those thoughts. She couldn’t risk him or anyone else suspecting that she knew anything other than what was whispered around the Keep, around the Guild. And whispers there were indeed, rumors that the Assassins were going to take down the Adarlanian monarchy and establish themselves as rulers. Of course, this was all gossip perpetuated by the youngest Assassins and the apprentices, but even gossip has some hint of truth. So no matter what Celaena knew, she kept quiet. She shoved what she’d heard into a dark corner of her mind, hiding it away with Aelin. Hoping and praying to whatever gods existed that even Arobynn wouldn’t be unhinged enough to actually attempt this insanity.

Apparently, her prayers weren’t enough.

Because, not quite a year after Celaena had first overheard Arobynn and his lackeys plotting away, on an ominous gray day that promised a powerful storm at any minute, an invisible wave pulsed across the entirety of Erilea, spreading from the temple at the center of Rifthold outwards, knocking Aelin to the ground, breathless, as an iron hand as cold as death itself wrapped around the embers of her magic and tugged.

The other magic-wielders out in the training yard picked themselves up off the ground, shaking their limbs, a few of them flexing their fingers and trying to call upon their magic but finding it unresponsive. Dazed, Celaena flexed her own hands, thankful beyond thankfulness that her training at the Academy had done at least one thing--it allowed her to lock up most of her famous wildfire, giving her the appearance, in all ways, that her fire gift was ordinary. A few embers sparked weakly out of her and fell to the ground, extinguished. Shaking herself, she tried again, once more unable to produce anything more than a brief spark, a tiny flash of firelight, before that icy iron grip snuffed her flames.

She knew then that she was right. Arobynn had cast some sort of spell over the whole of Erilea, rendering the gifts of every magic-wielder within the radius of his spell under his control and his alone.

And then his voice, so familiar and yet still so chilling, echoed in her mind, in every magic-wielder’s minds, sending a shiver skittering down her spine.

You may not know me, but I know you. I am your master, I hold the reins of your power. Follow my orders, and you go about your lives as normal. Disobey, and you reap what you have earned.

Celaena shuddered, the cold, distant order chilling her to her very core. Disobey, and you reap what you have earned. So familiar, the words, spoken to her when she was but a child. She was seventeen now, no longer just a child, but an assassin with a Fae form and a whole host of hidden secrets.

She was Celaena Sardothien. And she would not be afraid.

Not even when Arobynn Hamel held her flames in his unfaltering, otherworldly, magical grip, his control a constant icy presence against the heat of her fire.

You do not yield.

That is what Celaena repeated to herself, over and over again, as she marched in ranks of identical black-clad magic-wielders down the main streets of Rifthold, setting fire indiscriminately to whatever stood in her path, as she and the rest of her captive brethren were compelled to slide through the ranks of guards protecting the stone-and-glass palace, as she marched through the polished palace, her boots clicking emptily against the floors, as she and her rank dragged the kicking, cursing King of Adarlan out to the steps of the palace and propped his bound, magically silenced self up for all of Rifthold to see, as Arobynn’s silky, heartless purr compelled her to shove her sword through the King of Adarlan’s throat.

You do not yield, she repeated soundlessly to herself as the king’s blood sprayed onto her gloved hands, staining the steel of her blade. You do not yield. You do not yield. You do not yield.

Not even as she and the ranks of magic-wielders were puppeteered across Adarlan, across Fenharrow, across Melisande and Eyllwe and part of the Western Wastes, until they reached the edge of the spell and had to turn back. Lest any of Arobynn’s precious minions escape the boundary of his control and go rogue.

You do not yield.

For she was Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan’s Assassin, and she had been testing the bounds of Arobynn’s control over her ever since the day his unearthly, unholy spell rippled across the continent. For she remembered her training at the Academy, and she remembered how even a single instant where she could break any control over her meant that the control had its limits. And a single instant she had achieved, not that long ago, drinking in a single bare stolen breath of glorious freedom before the ice-cold iron control clamped back onto her, tighter than before.

That was how she’d received the three parallel scars that slashed across her back, from her left shoulder to the right side of her waist.

And you will reap what you have earned.

A display of what would happen should anyone else be stupid enough to try and break through Arobynn’s control.

You do not yield, Celaena repeated through the white-hot pain, her teeth clenched around the leather strap in her mouth to keep herself from crying out. You do not yield.

For she was Celaena Sardothien, Adarlan’s Assassin, and she was going to rip Arobynn and his unholy spell to shreds.

~~~~~

TAGS: please lmk if you want to be added/removed!

@charlizeed

@cretaceous-therapod

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@loudphantomdragon

@flora-shadowshine

@nerdperson524

@claralady

@fireheartwhitethorn4ever

@julialovebooks

@nesgoddessofdeath

@morganofthewildfire

@rowanaelinn

@wesupremeginger

@story-scribbler

@nicolivesinbooks

@mackenzieclutt

@stardelia

@maeclin

@gracie-rosee

@shanias-world

@mybloodrunsblue

@swankii-art-teacher

@wordsafterhours

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@violet-mermaid7

@holdthefrickup

@skeletons-and-wildflowers

@goddess-aelin

@rowaelinismyotp

@dealfea

@irondork

@themoonthestarsthesuriel

@live-the-fangirl-life

#aelin week #my writing #child aelin #alternate-ish canon #tw: violence #tw: arobynn #potential new story?#maybe but no promises #i'm sorry #maybe

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nightfurmoon · 3 years ago

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Miss Heed’s Instagram Q&A Translated!

Source of her instagram below! (miss_heed) Check her stories to see the photos of her while she answered the questions!

Putting all of them under a read more because there’s a looot.

What is “The Golden Rule”? Oh, how can you not know? It’s Goldheart’s league of superheroes.

Do you have a best friend? And if so, who is it? All my followers are my best friends, of course! I love all of them equally

What inspired you to he a superheroine? Oh, you know, helping people

Have you seen the drawings that fans do for you? Aah, of course!

Miss Heed, is it true that tomorrow you’re doing a live? Yess! Tomorrow is a super special day with a very cool guest…

Hello. Where is your friend Penumbra? We haven’t seen her in a while, is she on vacation? She’s not on vacation, we’re working together to help people

How did you discover that you had powers? One just knows when they’re super and you can’t hide it

When’s your perfume releasing? Thanks to some friends it’s almost ready

What do you think of your haters? They’re all villains, so they don’t matter. If they hate me, it means that they hate justice, so they’re people that deserve the worst

Any tips to start as a hero? Oh, you only have to follow your dreams

Why did you decide to be a hero? You don’t decide that, you’re born a hero, bb. Ily

Miss Heed, how can I be as beautiful as you? If you follow me, you already are (heart).

Do you have a family? All my followers are my family. I heart U

Do you think there’s someone better than you? Oohh, you also think I’m the best?

Do you know G-Lo? That little girl that sticks like gum to the hero Bicep?

If there was an infiltrated villain in your profile, what would you do? Oh no, plis. This is a q&a for people with a golden heart. NO VILLAINS ALLOWED.

Why are you so godlike? Kisses from Argentina. Ahh thx Ily

Miss Heed, what’s more important? Being tough or elegant? Being yourself!!

Do you know who’s the one that broke into your house to steal cheese? Ahh how scary that they broke into my house. My intelligence team says that the villain Mauser Jr could be the culprit

Do you get along with Coyote? He’s sooo cute, we’ve become best friends

Do you like iguanas? Eeww they disgust me

What will your perfume smell like? Like justice, victory, and roses

Not a question but… You’re very cute. Ahh thanks bb

Do you dye your hair? Or is it natural? The question offends me! Of course it’s natural

Do you have any favorite food? I love the acai bowl. They’re soo tasty

Do you think a villain and a hero can fall in love? No. Even if they’re redeemed, some things will never change.

Do you know Alan Ituriel? Whoo?

Do you speak other languages? Obviously, sweetie

What do you think of top hats? Ahh those things are super old… Do they still exist?

Where were you born? In Cosmopolis! I’m a big city girl with a big heart

Why are you so kind when there’s mean people out there? Ahh I know, but it’s up to us to demoralize and eradicate villainy, don’t you think?

How long have you been in the hero business? Heroes AREN’T a business. We do it for justice and love. Corporations don’t manipulate us like they do with villains.

Miss Heed what is your superpower? Love!!

How is your relationship with other heroes? It’s greeeaat. The heroic community sticks together

What do you think about what happened with Sunblast? It’s a shame, we’ll miss him a lot

Do Omega and Coyote get along? They were archenemies before, but now they’re besties!!

Why did you speak English in the beginning and then you switched to Spanish? Because I saw that a lot of my followers were from Latam, then my beautiful HeedCam started to translate my captions

Have they told you you’ve got a lot in common with a pink heroine from Townsville? If you’re talking about Blossom, she’s one of my lovely followers!

You’re the best. Is being a superhero a hobby or a job? It’s a calling

Do your eyes naturally have hearts in them or are they contact lenses? They’re natural of courseee

Pizza with or without pineapple? With pineapple of course

Do you have pets? Sometimes we joke about Omega and Coyote being by watchdogs hehe

What do you think about Dark Phantom and Ghoul? I’m close to capturing them, they aren’t very clever

What are your beauty secrets? Eating healthy and sleeping well knowing that I’m freeing the city from horrible villains

Did you design your superheroine outfit? Of course, that way I can make some changes to it if I want to

Where would you want to go on vacation? I need to go to the beach, I’ve been suuper busy defeating villains

Do you only help stray kittens or someone else? I help anyone in need!!

What do you think of Mawrasite? She has been a very productive member of society ever since I defeated her

When is your birthday? 3rd of June

Hello Miss Heed, do you get along with Omega? We’re good friends! Him and Coyote are very protective and kind friends.

When are you returning to Guadalajara? I want to return soon! I need a vacation

What happened to Quimera (the supervillain with animal parts?) She also became a productive member of society with my help

What sign are you? Geminis!

How are you so beautiful? Aww thank you, remember that beauty is internal!

Do you think cactuses are suspicious? Cactuses? What kind of question is that, bb?

Dogs or cats? (Cat emojis)

#villainous #villanos #nightfur talks #cartoon network #villains #black hat #demencia #official villainous #505 #dr flug #flug #animation #cartoon #miss heed #instagram #heed #superheroine

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eight-house · 4 years ago

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The Moon Signs in Bed

MOON IN ARIES

Aries’ passion is immediate; love and desire do not build up gradually, but begin full force and proceed with high intensity. In the bed- room, you enjoy taking the lead, and go after what you want with intensity and determination. Between the sheets you’re a fiery lover—easily aroused, with physical desires that urgently demand satisfaction. You have a strong appetite for anything new and innovative, and a talent for keeping the spirit of your love alive and thriving. You’re open to trying anything that is fun and adventurous—at least once. Although your sexual needs are high, intimate involvement with one person may become a source of conflict, because you require a great deal of personal freedom. It’s often easier for you to commit yourself physically than emotionally, so you deflect what you’re feeling into your sexuality. Then you deal with your emotions on that level, instead of confronting them directly. For you, a successful permanent relationship needs to be based in friendship as well as in love and romance.

MOON IN TAURUS

Your needs and desires are simple and of a practical, physical nature. Highly physical, your enjoyment of lovemaking is direct and unabashed and all types of physical contact appeal to your strongly sensuous nature. While you have no trouble drawing your lover to you, you actually enjoy being seduced. Initially shy, you become a sexual dynamo once aroused. For Taurus the neck is a major erogenous zone, and you welcome slow, sliding kisses along your neck as a prelude to love- making. Your personal recipe for love consists of equal parts passion and romance. However, while romantic, you don’t overlook the realities of life. No matter how passionate, hasty couplings in bleak, uncomfortable places hold little appeal for you. The bed partner who sets the scene with candles, music, and flowers, and plies you with delectable goodies such as exotic fruits, chocolates, and fine wines truly knows the surest way to your heart.

MOON IN GEMINI

More mental than emotional or physical, your major erotic zone is between your ears. You get off on fantasizing and talking about sex. Your aversion to boredom makes witty banter and subtle promises of previously untried bedroom techniques the ideal come-on from a prospective lover. You expect sex to be fun and prefer making love in unusual places. Risk provides an added thrill, and the possibility of getting caught in the act fuels your erotic imaginings. Even at home, you dislike having your lovemaking confined to the bedroom. Variety and change stimulate your desires, and you’re willing to try anything new or different. Since you love gadgets, sex toys and devices are a welcome addition to your erotic activities.

MOON IN CANCER

In an intimate union, the intensity of your sexuality is directly connected to the depth of your feeling for your companion. The act of love can carry you to incredible heights or leave you feeling deflated and let down. Sex for its own sake is just not your style. In the bedroom, your approach is romantic, sensual, tender, and always considerate of your lover’s wishes. You long to be courted and love to kiss and cuddle between the sheets. In intimate moments, you’re shy and sensitive, but in your dreams, you’re bold, imaginative, and audacious enough to take risks that you hesitate to pursue in reality. Your ideal bed partner coaxes you out of your shell, and gets you to reveal your most erotic imaginings. When acting out your secret fantasies, you engage your entire being in an exotic game of joyful seduction.

MOON IN LEO

Love is your ultimate aphrodisiac, and your idea of the perfect turn-on includes tons of affection and admiration. As a lover, you’re not a big fan of subtlety and believe that actions really do speak louder than words. While aggressive and dramatic in the bedroom, you’re never crude or boorish. Your sunny, romantic idealism permeates your lovemaking just as it lights up every other area of your life. Physical intimacy makes you feel alive and fulfilled, and your sexual prowess and ability to please your lover are exceedingly important to you. Because your plea- sure-seeking instincts are strong, you’re eager to experience all the joys lovemaking has to offer. Your sex drive is greatly enhanced by the comfortable accoutrements of the good life, and you get off on being pampered and wooed luxuriously, as befits your regal, leonine status.

MOON IN VIRGO

Because of its introverted aspect, Virgo is not a very sexual position for the Moon. Even when your deepest feelings are engaged, your shyness makes it hard for you to be demonstrative. You want a close union based on mutual respect and affection, and appreciate the refined elegance of beautiful, tasteful surroundings. Getting physical with your lover allows you to relax and forget about mundane worries. Since pleasing your mate is foremost in your mind, once you feel comfortable with your bedmate you make an amazingly skilled, generous bed partner. When you find a new way to gratify your lover, you hone the technique until it approaches perfection. While not the most exciting lover, you’re definitely one of the most considerate and obliging. Moreover, like a fine wine, your sensuality becomes richer with age and experience

MOON IN LIBRA

Your approach to lovemaking is glamorous and alluring. You appreciate the intri- cate rituals of old-fashioned courtship, and enjoy being wooed with finesse and sophistication. Sex and romance are intertwined in your mind, and you prefer artful seduction to a carnal free-for-all. Your erotic sensuality emerges most readily in a sumptuous setting that engages all the senses. Luxurious bedding, sultry nightwear, soft music, flickering candles, and fresh flowers add the requisite spice to your lovemaking. A special night dedicated to love, in a romantic setting with moonlight and whispered words of adoration, serves as a genuine turn-on and affectionate gestures and loving words draw out your passions and get your sexual juices flowing.

MOON IN SCORPIO

Imbued with a smoldering sexuality, when you turn on your sultry charm, few can resist you and, once you get going beneath the covers, you have tremendous staying power. Your passionate lovemaking requires a dynamic bed partner with physical stamina equal to your own. Your innate fascination with sexuality inspires numerous fantasies of erotic seduction. Acting out these scenarios with your mate provides an outlet for your active imagination in addition to being a guaranteed turn-on. An extremist, you equate sex with power and control, making you a de- manding, but wickedly delightful lover. You intuit your partner’s secret desires— and make them come true. Sharing your lusty thoughts with your beloved serves as tantalizing foreplay for steamy nights of intense lovemaking.

MOON IN SAGITTARIUS

Your sex drive is strong, but erratic. At times, your bedroom style can be wildly experimental, and you’re always eager to explore new ways of expanding your sen- sual horizons. Physical attraction sparks your interest initially, but it takes intel- lectual stimulation to hold it indefinitely. Spontaneity, fun, excitement, and adventure turn you on and matter more to you than grand passion. A short getaway is relaxing, and camping, hiking, and making love under the stars reinvigorates you. Your natural exuberance, candor, and lack of guile in the bedroom allow you to express your sexual desires openly. More interested in action than fantasy, having sex in different locations—at home and otherwise— is a real turn-on for you. Why be restricted to the bedroom when there are so many other appealing places to make love?

MOON IN CAPRICORN

When aroused the strongly sexed lunar goat is capable of intense and sustained ardor. Where lovemaking is concerned, you like to take it slow and get it right and you work at love with the same diligence and dedication that you apply to other areas of your life. Your style of lovemaking, while respectful and refined, tends to be no-nonsense and you consider coquettish games a waste of time. Nevertheless, whatever you lack in the romance department, you more than make up for in skill and sexual prowess. Despite your down-to-earth attitude toward sexuality, you can be vamped and seduced. Your ideal lover knows how to lure the horny goat out of hiding by creating an atmosphere of sensuality where you can relax and give full rein to your many erotic desires.

MOON IN AQUARIUS

In the bedroom, you’re daring and unconventional. A genuine nonconformist, you’re sexually uninhibited and predisposed to experimentation; if something sounds fun, you’re willing to give it a go. You exude a sex appeal that positively crackles with electricity, and you believe that nothing is too far out as long as it pleases both partners. However, no matter how much you enjoy making love, you always keep your wits about you and never allow yourself to be totally swept away by passion. Lovemaking has little meaning for you unless it truly engages your mind along with your body, and you respond as readily to verbal suggestion as to physical stimulation.

MOON IN PISCES

For the fish, love and sex are irrevocably intertwined, and nothing gets your attention faster than an old-fashioned romantic courtship. You want a lover who quotes poetry, scatters rose petals, and makes all-consuming love by candlelight. In turn, you enchant your lover through subtle seduction, and your unpredictable nature makes you endlessly fascinating. In bed, your aura of vulnerability brings out your partner’s protective instincts. Although you love to kiss and cuddle, the physical side of sex matters less to you than an emotional connection with your lover. Even so, you’re no slouch between the sheets. Prepared to give your all, you readily set your own needs and desires aside in order to satisfy those of your bed- mate

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