#but since when are you on a first name basis with your mother the queen dowager???

[mmelolabelle]

look I could write essays criticising alicent hightower and all the ways in which her children have very legitimate reasons to dislike and resent her

but “alicent holds love-”

that is your fucking mother you ill-adjusted disrespectful little shit??? fix your fucking tone sir? i swear back in my day kids would never —

[luverofralts]

Arkhelios University

Queen Maura II of Twikkii Island appeared out of nowhere in the blink of an eye, scanning the room for her formerly deceased cousin.

“Adrian? I was told that you were back, but I never- I couldn’t even hope that it could be true.”

“Maura!”

Adrian embraced his cousin happily. He’d agreed to meet Roman at the hospital to be checked over, but Roman had texted Ulyssa about the sudden resurrection of Maura’s cousin and the Queen demanded to see him immediately.

“I don’t even care how this happened, I’m just so happy to have you back,” she cried, not daring to let go of an actual, living blood relative in case this was just a cruel trick. “It’s been just me and Trent and your girls in the family for so long. But you’re back!”

Adrian could see the desperation to see another family member in his cousin’s eyes and squeezed her even tighter.

“I was told about Grandma and your mom,” he replied quietly. “I’m so sorry, Your Majesty.”

“Yeah, me too,” she whispered. “I don’t suppose you learned who was behind the attack in your mysterious time on the other side?”

Adrian shook his head sadly.

“I was trapped somewhere else, or so I’m told. I never even saw my parents the entire time I was gone. But who would attack us like that? It makes no sense. Twikkii Island is tiny compared to a place like Pleasantview! We’re a vacation hot spot, not some military installation.”

“Well, we’re about to change that,” Maura replied, looking nervous to be speaking on the subject. “Claudia’s been helping train our military and buy- well, it’s not important. You’re alive and that’s all that matters. Ulyssa and I will have to have you and Trent for dinner this week. It’ll be a real family reunion, just like old times.”

Elaine stared at the tiny infant resting in an incubator with relief. Abe was still unconscious, but the doctors were optimistic about his recovery. The emergency c-section had gone well and the newest member of the Bellamy family was stable and doing well, considering the circumstances of her birth.

The little girl had Elaine’s blue eyes. Roman had commented on them the instant he first held her and Elaine hadn’t been able to forget them since. She loved all of her grandchildren, but seeing a tangible physical connection between her and this infant was breathtaking. If this little girl didn’t ignite her grandmother’s living room furniture on a regular basis, Elaine probably had a new favourite grandchild.

“She’s so tiny,” Roman whispered, stroking his daughter’s hair as closely as he could around the medical equipment. “She’s come into the world just as dramatically as her sisters. I guess we were lucky with Theo.”

“You know, Elaine’s a very popular name.”

Roman smiled politely at his mother in law and redirected his attention on the tiny infant in front of him.

“It’s a great name. I’ll mention it to Abe when he wakes up. I’m not naming another child on my own. Hopefully Adrian doesn’t have a problem with our daughters’ names, I never thought he’d be able to use them for himself. I’m glad I was wrong about that.”

“The doctors did say that Abe would be fine, right?” Elaine pressed, her attention focused once more on her son. Roman was Abe’s official next of kin and no one felt obligated to fill in his mother about his condition. “He’s not...your mother didn’t send him anywhere? Is this a coma? Do we need to call Wanda and have her perform a spell?”

If the circumstances were different, Roman would have laughed at the half-whispered horrified way she’d asked that last question. It had taken them a long time, but the extended Helios/Bellamy family was finally learning to embrace the supernatural nature of some of its members. There was something strange buzzing in the back of his mind ever since he’d regained consciousness after rejoining Adrian. A weird connection hummed whenever he went near Abe or their infant daughter and he’d felt it before near the Rivales children who had come to fight off his mother. He vaguely understood that the demon sovereign had been trying to bind Kamalani’s bloodline together instead of just him and Abe, but he had no idea if she had been successful. It didn’t feel like when he’d been connected to Abe and the more time passed, the weaker the pull felt. Maybe the effect would wear off with time. What Roman wanted to know was the sovereign’s intentions regarding his and Abe’s proposed demonic joining. Had her demands been overruled by a stronger power? Did Roman even want to mention the idea when he inevitably ran across her next? 

That was a discussion for another time though. Right now he had a brand new daughter to focus on and a husband to watch over. If his mother was truly incapacitated, there was nothing left on the planet that could keep him from Abe’s side when he needed him.

“Our daughter was in jeopardy and Abe’s been pretty banged up,” Roman replied. “They’re hoping that he’s just recovering from all the drugs they had to give him and the c-section. If he’s not awake by this time tomorrow, then they’ll start to worry.”

“And Theo has a cat that’s magic and he gets to take it to school and his school is really far away.”

“Wow, really?” Adrian listened intently to his daughters as they both fought to tell their father the important things he should know about their lives. They could have been babbling nonsense and it would have been the greatest thing he’d heard, but hearing how reasonably well adjusted and happy his children were was everything to him. Before his death, Adrian had spent hours dreaming about being a father and what his twins would be like and now suddenly here they were. They mostly focused on what their older brother was up to or the things the dog had done that were funny, but each story was an amazing confirmation that he was a father to two bright, happy children who were slowly growing into their own unique personalities and thoughts. He especially loved how close they were to their older half-brother. After watching Maura struggle to connect with her half-siblings for years, Adrian had been half afraid that his girls would feel the same way about Theo.

“Are you going to leave us again? I don’t want you to leave again.”

Adrian’s heart broke hearing the worry in Luciana’s voice. As much as he’d missed knowing his children, they’d missed him too. It sounded like Abe was a decent stepdad and was already far more mature than when Adrian had first met him, but there was no replacing their actual father. Adrian was immensely grateful that Roman had made such an effort to tell their kids about their father. It would have been easy to just have Adrian’s picture sit on a shelf while Abe took over the role of a dad, but Roman had made it very clear that the girls had a stepfather, not a replacement dad.

“No. No, I’m not going anywhere,” he reassured the toddlers. “Never again. I won’t let anyone get between us and if someone does try, Adrienne will come back to get me again. I’m not letting you two out of my sight.”

The toddlers smiled, but this new promise reminded him of the earlier one he’d made to Roman. He had to get checked out by a doctor before he could promise to be around for his kids. Adrian would fight death kicking and screaming if it came for him again, but he knew there wasn’t a chance in hell of him winning that battle. He had to know if this was a second chance at life for him or just a brief window to say his goodbyes properly.

“Come on, let’s go see how Daddy’s doing.”

[sortanonymous]

I drew Queen Pikiria in Meta Knightmare! (plus some info on her and also someone else's much better drawing of her) (Part 1!)

It was a painful mess of flipping between different colorized versions, but I've drawn my AU/fic's version of Pikiria, adopted daughter of Sectonia & Taranza and the Crown Princess-turned-Queen of Floralia. (Based off Pirka from the light novels, but so different in personality, background, and name that she's essentially an OC.) I definitely could have drawn it better (I probably should have added a Dreamstalk flower to the center of the bow, but not only is it too late, but it's a pain drawing either that bow or any kind of flowers), but I feel like this was an okay first effort. Forget mine though, because also after giving a suggestion and a tiny bit of coloring advice, here's the (official?) colorized version of Aiden Stolidus's (aka "insane guy") much better drawing on Amino, even if there's no crown! (Yes, that site still exists and I still look around on there even though I never post.) Honestly, if you need any art of this character as a basis for your own, AU or not, this is the definitive answer. They knocked it out of the park! (Don't worry, I got permission.)

Now take rather randomly organized some info and HCs on her under the cut, even if I might just reuse them for a bigger post if I draw her Spydeair parents soon (and also some of these are carried over from that "How Sectonia and Taranza Became Pikiria's Parents" post from a while back, which itself was half a Cliffnotes version of the Our Little Miracle fic)! (SPOILERS FOR META KNIGHTMARES II AND III, OF COURSE)

She's a Fairie, a species of fairies distantly related to the Spydeair species. (Might also have just a bit of relation to the Ripple Star fairies, but not a lot and I'm not sure.)

These first few points will simply summarize things you can already find in the fics, but I'll bring them up for context. To summarize her adoption yet again (Our Little Miracle), she floated into relatively-newlywed Sectonia and Taranza's garden hours after her birth and after some weeks of taking care of her and eventually deducing how she got here, they happily adopted her as the Crown Princess of Floralia.

Fast forward to her 12th birthday, which was also Sectonia's 35th birthday (The Insane Following Stuff, specifically chapters 5-11). After meeting (most of) the Meta-Knights and getting them to Sectonia just in time for both the queen's surprise b-day party and an attack by Dark Mind's Mirror World forces (long story short, DMK has beef with Secty's family here), she had to use her lightning-fast Fairie wings to save her father from getting crushed by debris. That night, she learned that she'd immediately have to fly all the way out to the planet Skyhigh to be trained for her future for the next 236 months like a glorified college. (Her parents had known this since she was like 6, but were always vague on telling her and just didn't want to think about it.) She emotionally said farewell before flying off into space.

About four and a half years later (chapters 17 and 21-25 of The Insane Following Stuff, to be exact), she had done very well on Skyhigh, taking after her mother and becoming a spectacular and speedy dual-wielding swordswoman nicknamed "Pikiria the Quick", although she was still rather homesick and waiting for a good time to spend her single vacation day. That came sooner than expected when her mother, after over four years of emotional struggles (from Pikiria's departure and fear of Dark Mind's forces) compounded by the Dimensional Mirror's grip on her, caused the darkness transmitted from it to take over and her to have a meltdown. Upon detecting her telepathic cry for help/farewell in a nightmare, she immediately rocketed back to Royal Road just in time to stop her possessed mother from killing the Knights, and both she and her father were able to comfort her and let her regain control. After staying for the next 24 hours to reconnect with and check on her parents, as her mother slowly started to recover, she emotionally went back to Skyhigh.

Once those 236 months were up (chapters 13-18 of The Later Roller Coaster), she had just gotten ready to return home for good and become Floralia's top defender/crown princess when she got another urgent telepathic message from her father and rushed back in panic. In the last few weeks, her mother's corruption had come back with a vengeance and the entire kingdom was on the brink. She reunited with her father and after launching the Dreamstalk mission with him and the people as a last-ditch effort to save both the kingdom and hopefully her mother, she got the Knights up to Royal Road. But the plan imploded down the stretch and right after watching her father get blasted out the window by her warped mother (which she thought killed him), she and Meta were forced into a battle with DMK/Shadow Knight, her mother's (even further corrupted) corrupter. While they did force him to retreat into space, Pikiria was in horror as her mother in Dreamstalk form seemed moments away from death when Hypernova Kirby had the beam pointed toward her. While a sympathetic Kirby did use the beam to instead severely weaken her corruption, thus giving the family a brief moment of reconnection and joy, with the corruption still deep within her, Sectonia went into slumber to fend off the darkness until a potential cure was found. Right before though, she asked Pikiria to succeed her and Taranza on the throne to become Floralia's new queen and clean up the mess just made, which she emphatically agreed to.

Nearly two and a half years after that (chapters 21-24 of The Later Roller Coaster), when the Star Dream crisis happened, she flew into the Access Ark alongside the Knights and eventually had to rush out, though not before she had to fight a clone of her mother's corrupted form. She was able to defeat her through her memories of her real mother's swordfighting technique and escape alongside the crew, but after witnessing a certain shocking loss on the way out, she returned home with even more appreciation for her father.

The story continues in Meta Knightmare IV: The Unforgettable Star-Studded Finale later this year!

MORE HC's COMING SOON IN PART 2!

[raining-anonymously]

Hi hello can I hear your deltarune swap au it sounds very interesting! (also kitten seam is something I didn't know I needed in life)

anon i am [insert phrase with the same sentiment as “kissing you on the mouth” but without the weird connotations]. also everyone needs kitten seam

all right so here’s the basis for those of you who didn’t see the first post:

this is yet another deltarune swap au. i’ve decided to call it “mage from the dark” since the first characters i sketched out in it were seam and ralsei (who are swapped).

seam is a young plush cat (kitten) who lives a lonely life of wishing to be loved like plushies are supposed to be. sure, seam finds ways to pass the time—knitting, sewing, crocheting, collecting things, making tea, practicing magic, failing to learn how to grill—but it’s a dull life. then, finally, the other heroes of light arrive in ruintown: a warrior and a boss monster.

undyne, the warrior, was once eager to prove herself, but has spent her whole life unintentionally intimidating the people she was trying to impress. as a result, she’s embraced this persona, getting into fights and trouble, and often assuming a hostile front. coming face to face with the same childhood friend who abandoned her when something better came along doesn’t help matters, especially since she’s living the comfortable life undyne secretly wishes for. but a part of her still longs to be a hero like in the comic books of deceased writer w.d. gaster…

toriel, the boss monster, is the daughter of schoolteacher mx. kris dreemurr. she’s faced a lot of scorn for being raised by a human (since everyone’s too scared to say that stuff to mx. dreemurr’s face). she found solace in puns, and in her uncle asriel, who she was very close with from their unique shared circumstance of being a boss monster with a human family member. however, kris and asriel had a falling out a couple years back, and he moved out of their house, now working and living in his videogame shop. at least she still has her partner, asgore—but ever since he left for college, toriel’s started to wonder if it’s meant to be. isolated from her peers and doubting her relationships, toriel wished there was someone to tell her what to do, and, well...

it didn’t go as planned.

that’s the main trio, plus hints at some of the others! here’s some other swaps:

the rest of the class is alphys (noelle), mettaton (berdly), papyrus (jockington), carol (mk), sans (catti), maddy (snowy), and napstablook (temmie). there are actual reasons for these decisions, which i will share if pressed.

rudy is swapped with chara, alphys’s godparent and azzy’s best friend, who’s currently in the hospital after a childhood sickness came back.

dess is swapped with goner kid. they’re alphys’s auncle, who disappeared when she was a kid. (this is reminding me how messed up canon noelle’s life is.)

the castle kingdom was once ruled by ralsei, benevolent prince, but after the lightners abandoned the world, he felt he had failed his subjects and stepped down, instead working as an advisor to the new rulers. these were clover, starwalker, mr. society, and jigsaw joe, so as to represent four of the main residents of the kingdom: cards, stickers, chess pieces, and puzzles. (the other groups wisely chose to stay out of the politics.) the starwalker later adopted a ward, after no one wanted to claim a suitless card, who was a young jester named jevil. at first, starwalker attempted to bond with the boy, but its grumpy nature and general lack of motivation made it a somewhat neglectful parent, often handing jevil off to tutorial-maker queen. queen knew what it was to not fit in; although she’d formed an alliance with cards from the spades suit, she never truly belonged among the toys, considering she was a laptop (albeit with child restrictions set on her). as a result, queen tried to be a good mother figure to jevil, and the fact that it got her in the starwalker’s good graces didn’t hurt either—she was always eager to please others.

ralsei didn’t particularly mind his new role—he had a new friend now, after all. lancer, the jack of spades, was hired by clover to be the court party planner, and was known for his salsa, beanies, and hole-digging skills. but after a strange old turtle appeared on the horizon, lancer and ralsei began to drift apart. lancer stopped pestering ralsei to come on motorcycle rides, and to his surprise, ralsei missed those days, terrifying as they had been. and then lancer began to change. his humor got darker yet darker, his pranks became less harmless, his magic grew stronger. then, suddenly, he was back in ralsei’s life like he’d never left—telling him about a new "evil plan.” but unlike previous such plans, this one was frightening and unsettling. lancer spoke of a plan to create a world without a purpose, where everything was meaningless, and then, one day, to suddenly end it all. at first, ralsei laughed it off, but the more lancer spoke of this plan, the more ralsei’s anxiety grew, and the more he suspected his friend wasn’t joking. 

and then it got worse.

it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise when the rulers of the land ordered ralsei to lock lancer away... but it was the first time the former prince had truly regretted giving up his power. ralsei won the battle, but was devastated, and not just physically. unable to bear living at the castle any longer, he turned in his resignation and set up a small, peaceful shop, as far away as he could manage. but even so, he could never forget lancer’s words, nor the undeniable truth he had felt in them. and so, quietly, he waited for the world to end.

oh yeah, and then one day a strange knight appeared and the starwalker locked the other rulers in the dungeon and hired queen as the duchess of puzzles, despite her insistence she had no puzzlemaking programs.

meanwhile in the cybere city...

after a lightner accidentally took him away from his home, rouxls kaard has lived a vastly different life. he somehow managed to instate himself as the rouxler of the cybere worlde, because really, what is code but rules? he hired a cd player named k_k as his head butler, and speaker system sweet as his head of security, because the two of them were among the first to treat him with reverence—and to think, back home they’d never even respected him! yeah, he’d show that god damn(it) starwalker what he was made of. for a while, he was a fairly decent ruler—but after the knight came to visit, rouxls’s perspective began to change. 

of course, people had problems with this. mainly, a trio of artists: tasque manager, spamton g. spamton, and swatch, or as they liked to call themselves, tasque spam’n swatch. the three of them attempted to start a rebellion. it has decidedly not been working, but heck, they’re dedicated!

(yes, cap’n is spamton. i’m still working out the details with that—and trying to figure out what berdly’s version of neo would be.)

[taehyungssss]

into the forest - m

word count: 3.6k

genre: smut 18+ | royal, faerie, forbidden love

pairing: fae!jungkook x fem!reader | hoseok x fem!reader (previous)

summary: as the second princess of the human kingdom, you know to fear the fae, they did wage war on your people for one thousand years after all. what happens when you meet one in the forest, and they aren’t what you imagined?

warnings: mentions of war, slut-shaming (in passing), smut scenes, mentions of rough sex/spanking, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), outdoor sex, nipple play, fingering, oral (f receiving), creampie

a/n: this is my first bts fic so i hope you enjoy it! thanks to all my friends for reading it and giving me feedback, you’re the best

Never trust the Fae, that’s what everyone always told you. They’re tricksters, they’re evil, all they care about is corrupting humans, and you believed them. Why wouldn’t you? As a child you were told tales of the terrifying Fae with their leathery skin, red eyes and big black horns. You would wake in the night crying for your nursemaid, afraid that there would be a Fae under your bed.

The Fae were not of legend though, they were very real, you knew this from your family history. You were not an ordinary child; you were the Second Princess of the human kingdom. Your father and mother were King and Queen respectively, and your older sister was the prized Crown Princess. Four hundred years ago your ancestor, the then King, had ended the one-thousand-year war which had occurred between your kingdom and the kingdom of the Fae. He had agreed with the Fae King to end the exhausting warfare on the condition that neither people would breach the others’ land. Since then, each community had kept to itself, neither interacting with the other, but the horror stories of the Fae remained as a cautionary tale to the brave few who wished to seek them out and break the peace.

You were currently stressed beyond belief by the trauma that was the organisation of your sister’s marriage. As the Crown Princess, therefore the next in line to the throne, she had been betrothed to the most respectable and handsome man in the whole kingdom, Lord Kim Seokjin. Your parents decided that at 23 years old it was time for your sister to finally be wed to her fiancé, and that meant hours of planning and protocol. Being the Second Princess, you were to be the maid of honour, and the dress fittings were beginning to wear you down.

Another cause of stress was that you would be the next to be married. You were yet to be betrothed to anyone, probably because your father viewed you as damaged goods after the incident with the Chief Knight, Jung Hoseok. A couple of years ago, after too much wine at a festival ball, you snuck away with Hoseok to an inconspicuous corridor. The drink had blurred both of your minds and your lips had become entangled in a passionate kiss. You still remember his lips caressing your neck and your begging of him for more. This led to your father, the King and ruler of all, finding you with Hoseok’s hand up your skirt. He definitely wasn’t pleased.

Your father had to be held back from punching Hoseok in the face and the next morning he had the guards practically drag the both of you to a private room for a discussion. He decreed that this brief relationship was not to continue under any circumstances, and if you were caught again Hoseok would be banished. Of course, you didn’t listen, but after a few months the relationship fizzled out, the thrill of getting caught wearing thin. Now Hoseok was married to a beautiful maiden, but you remained on good terms.

Part of you wished you could’ve married Hoseok, at least then there wouldn’t be any nerves. The prospect of being married to someone you were incompatible with made you cringe and feel a little sick in your stomach. No other man had ever made you feel anything, they were either too irritating or too arrogant, and you found yourself fatigued with having to dance with a different suitor at every ball, if only you could marry yourself.

This is how you found yourself riding your beloved horse, Bramble, into the Border Forest. There was nothing better than a good ride to relieve stress. However, you must have gotten carried away as you now found yourself in a part of the forest that you didn’t recognise. The flowers were different here and you couldn’t remember if you passed the red handkerchief that you’d tied to a tree many years ago to alert yourself that you were near the kingdom border. You see, the forest was generally out of bounds as it was close to the Fae kingdom, but you bent the rules on a regular basis, always making sure to stop before your self-placed marker so you didn’t accidentally break the peace treaty. Before you had a chance to panic even more, a voice called to you.

“Lost?”. You looked up to see a tall man with a mullet of black and blue hair in front of you. “Oh, thank goodness,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief. “I thought I had wandered into the kingdom of the Fae.” The man frowned slightly. “You are in the lands of the Fae,” he replied. You froze, you must have gotten very carried away on your ride to come this far out, but the sight of a fellow human calmed you slightly. “Could you please lead me back to our kingdom?” you asked. “Our kingdom?” the man looked puzzled. “This is my kingdom.” “But you’re human?” you half-asked. The man shook his head and smiled slightly. “No, I am Fae,” the man clarified.

You suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. How could this man be Fae? Where were his red eyes or big horns? This man didn’t look like a monster, in fact he was beautiful, ethereal and enchanting. “You seem shocked,” he said. You nodded. “You don’t look like I imagined,” you replied. “You know? The leathery skin and red eyes.” The man laughed heartily. “Is that what they tell you in the human kingdom?” he asked through his amusement. “That’s funny. I look like a typical Fae. No red eyes here. I’m Jungkook by the way.” The man, Jungkook, outstretched his hand. You looked at it for a moment before shaking your head, unwilling to touch your enemy.

“I will not tell you my name, all you must know is that I’m the Second Princess of the human kingdom,” you said in a matter-of-fact way. Jungkook laughed again, much to your irritation. “Continue back the way you came, Princess,” you tensed slightly when he used your title, it slid from his tongue in the most exquisite way. “You will soon be back in the human lands. By the way, I am the Second Prince of the Fae. If you’re curious about what other lies your people have told you about mine, meet me here in two days’ time at sundown. I will answer any questions you have.” You didn’t answer Jungkook, fear of his kind still coursing through your veins. You merely nodded, mounted Bramble and rode back home. You told yourself there was no way you would meet Jungkook again, but you couldn’t deny how your heart pulled you towards the idea.

Despite your brain telling you to stay away from Jungkook, either your heart, or something else, pulled you towards him. Two days after your initial meeting you stood in the spot where you first met. He was yet to arrive, and you were beginning to feel uneasy. It was dark and the sounds of unfamiliar wildlife were putting you on edge. Then you saw a figure approaching, Jungkook. He was illuminated by a swarm of floating lights; it was a mesmerising sight.

“You came,” he said, his mouth forming a smile. “I did,” you replied, pulling your shawl tighter around your shoulders. As Jungkook came closer you noticed that his hair was behind his ears, this was the first difference you noticed from yourself, his ears were pointed. “Your ears,” you said. “They’re pointed.” “They are,” Jungkook spoke warmly as he moved closer. “It’s a Fae characteristic.” He came to a stop two steps in front of you, the lights still swirling around him. “How are you doing that?” you motioned around him. “The lights?” “They’re fireflies,” Jungkook replied. “Fae are a lot more in touch with nature than humans are, that’s how we get our magic.” He moved his hands in circular motions and the fireflies spread out around you both, illuminating the area you inhabited. “Please sit,” he said, lowering himself down on the grass. You nervously followed his lead, still questioning why you were here with your ancestral enemy.

“Will you tell me your name, Princess?” the prince asked, the use of your title giving you shivers once again. You stayed silent for a moment. “Y/N,” you replied, shuffling your feet in the grass. “Y/N,” Jungkook repeated. “I like it.” You didn’t really know how to respond, so you settled for nodding, another silence falling on the two of you. “I’m guessing you came because you have questions,” he said. “So, ask me something.” Plucking up your courage you decided on a question that had been troubling you since you had left two days previously. “Why didn’t you tell your king that I trespassed on Fae lands?” you asked cautiously. “It breaks the peace treaty and we’re enemies.” “Are we?” Jungkook asked immediately. “Unless I’m wrong, I only met you two days ago Y/N. How can we be enemies?” You shook your head in frustration. “You know what I mean, we’re ancestral enemies,” you bit back quickly. “You could’ve told the king and declared war on all humans by now, but you didn’t.” Jungkook smiled. “I didn’t tell my father because you obviously came here by mistake, and I’ve never met a human before,” he said. “You say we have leathery skin, but we say that you have no light within, that you’re a barren and cold people.” Your eyes widened. Of course, you knew that the Fae must have stories about humans, but you didn’t expect them to be so philosophical.

“Am I then?” you said nervously. “Am I barren and cold with no light within?” The prince looked you up and down in a way that gave you goosebumps. “No,” he finally replied. “If anything, you’re radiant and lush. Life courses through your veins.” A feeling you hadn’t experienced since your dalliances with Hoseok took hold of you. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you couldn’t look Jungkook in the face. “Please don’t feel uncomfortable in my presence,” he reassured you. “I want to learn more about you, and I sense you wish to learn more about me. I promise not to tell my father if you promise not to tell yours.” He held his hand out to you. “I promise,” you responded, taking his hand in yours. It was warm and soft, it was comforting. Even after letting go you could still feel a tingle where he had touched you. You were in trouble now.

Every week at sundown you and Jungkook would meet in the same place in the forest. On the fifth visit he had been giving you a more in-depth explanation of how Fae magic worked. “We draw our magic from nature,” he said softly, gesturing to the trees all around you. “We can use it to fight, but we can also use it to heal and even create.” He cupped his hands together for a moment, before opening them to reveal a beautiful purple flower. Your eyes lit up in amazement as you marvelled at the bloom he had made from thin air. “For you, Princess,” he said, holding out the flower for you. You took it from him and inhaled the fresh scent exuding from it. “Thank you,” you replied, looking Jungkook directly in the eyes. Not for the first time you contemplated how beautiful they were, like swirling galaxies pulling you closer to him.

You both stayed still for a moment, gazing deeply into each other’s eyes. You felt an overwhelming feeling of safety whenever you were with him, he was of great comfort to you, and now looking into his eyes you felt like you could float away into the clouds. Suddenly Jungkook moved his hand to cup your jaw, brushing his thumb along your face softly. “May I?” he asked. Your stomach erupted into butterflies, surely, he couldn’t be asking to kiss you? “Princess, may I kiss you?” he clarified after taking in your confused state. You nodded, dumbstruck, as he moved closer to your lips.

Jungkook’s lips were soft and warm as they caressed your own, his hand moving to the back of your neck to pull you closer. You melted into the kiss, amazed that this beautiful creature was actually in your arms. All too quickly Jungkook pulled away, taking in your flushed face and puffy lips. Before you had a chance to complain he pushed his lips against yours, more harshly this time. Gaining more confidence, you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck. Jungkook brushed his tongue against your lips and you opened them to allow him in. The feeling of your tongues intimately brushing together gave you a light feeling inside and simultaneously made you feel hot, this never happened with Hoseok.

After an unknown amount of time, it could’ve been minutes or hours, you both pulled away. “I…” you began, at a loss for words. “Thank you.” “My pleasure,” Jungkook replied, stirring feelings within your core. “Your lips are divine, as is the rest of you.” You felt a blush rise on your cheeks as you looked at the ground. “Please don’t look away, Princess,” he said as he grasped your hands. “I like you and I wish to show it. If you would rather stop these meetings then we can, but I would rather we carried on.” You looked back up to his face, he was smiling softly, and his galaxy eyes were glimmering. “I want to carry on too,” you said, pulling him in for another sweet kiss.

Each week the meetings and kisses continued, and you felt yourself falling more and more for Jungkook. Your previous ill feelings towards the Fae had vanished and you wanted nothing more than to be in the arms of your Fae lover at all times. On the twelfth visit you once again found your lips locked against his as you laid beneath him in the grass. This time it was different though, his hands were caressing your body more intensely than usual and you were beginning to feel hot.

Jungkook pulled away, foreheads resting against each other. “Y/N,” he began. “Have you ever been touched by a man?” You felt the colour drain from your face, he could probably sense you sullied nature and no longer wanted anything to do with you. “I have,” you replied cautiously. “Just one. I’m sorry.” Jungkook frowned. “Don’t apologise,” he said, softly brushing your jaw with his thumb. “I’m not pure either, but people don’t fuss over it with men like they do with women. It doesn’t matter to me either way.” Relief washed over you as you heard his words, Jungkook didn’t think you were damaged goods, he still wanted you. “May I touch you, Princess?” he whispered in your ear. Shivers of anticipation travelled down your spine as you nodded fervently.

Jungkook’s hand moved to your clothed breast as he began to massage it, a smirk appearing on his face as you let out a soft moan. He quickly untied the fastenings at the back of your dress and pulled it down to your waist. His mouth kissed where his hand had just been, eliciting louder moans from you as his tongue flicked at your nipple. As he kissed your breasts his hand moved further south, finding its way underneath your dress and on bare sex. “You’re so wet,” he murmured approvingly. “Is this okay?” he asked as he began to rub the bundle of nerves that brought you immense pleasure. You nodded quickly, moaning as he quickened his pace.

The prince stopped his movements and you let out a whine of disappointment. “Let’s get this dress off you properly,” he said, pulling the material from your body. Jungkook was still fully clothed and you suddenly felt very exposed. You reached out and he allowed you to remove his shirt, but you weren’t prepared for what was underneath. You let out a gasp at how incredibly toned and muscular he was, your hands running across his abs. “Like what you see, Princess?” he smirked. “Yes,” you purred as he laid you back down on the soft grass, positioning himself between your legs. Suddenly his mouth was on your most intimate area, his tongue lapping at your clitoris. You moaned wantonly, gripping at the hair on his head. You had never felt such pleasure in your life, and your moans became louder and more frequent as you felt the familiar coil in your core begin to tighten. Jungkook slowly pushed a finger inside you, it felt incredible. “Don’t stop Jungkook,” you cried. “More… Please…” You looked up and saw him smirk as he pleasured you. He added another finger and curled them, hitting the spot inside of you. The coil tightened and tightened until it released, and pleasure flowed through your veins and you screamed out your lover’s name.

Jungkook wiped your wetness from his mouth and began to kiss you. Being able to taste yourself on his tongue was incredibly erotic, and you found your hand travelling down to the hardness at his crotch. He suddenly grabbed your hand, stopping you. “Tonight is about you,” he said. “Let me pleasure you.” He pushed you back onto the grass and removed his trousers and undergarments, releasing his impressive length. You panicked slightly at the sight of it, he was bigger than Hoseok. “You’re so big,” you whispered. Jungkook smiled widely at the compliment. “Yes, but I know you can take me,” he replied reassuringly. “Do you definitely want this?” You nodded and he grasped your thighs, moving them apart. He lined himself up at your entrance and held your hands as he pushed inside. It stung a little as you weren’t used to his size, but after a moment you began to feel comfortable. “Please move Jungkook,” you whimpered.

He began to move within you, leisurely thrusting in and out. His manhood brushed against the sweet spot inside you and you clenched around him, letting out a moan.

“You feel so good,” he said breathlessly. “You’re taking me so well.” His compliments brought even more pleasure to you and he softly held your hands as he brought you closer and closer to orgasm. Sex with Hoseok hadn’t been like this at all, he had been more concerned with taking you roughly from behind and leaving red handprints on your derriere. Something about treating the Second Princess like a common whore had thrilled him, and you were more than happy to indulge him. However, sex with Jungkook was pure lovemaking. It was gentle and soft, you truly felt safe and on top of the world.

You felt yourself getting closer towards release, and Jungkook sensed this from your vice-like grip on his cock. He moved his hand to your clitoris and began to rub fast circles upon it. You gasped and moaned at his touch, taking in his sweaty and downright hot appearance. His mullet was beginning to cling to his forehead and his abs were rippling as he thrusted into you. “Jungkook,” you whined wantonly. “I’m so close.” The pressure in your core was becoming unbearable and you felt yourself hurtling towards release. “Let go for me Y/N,” he leant down and whispered into your ear, keeping up his pace. Your orgasm immediately washed over you, your womanhood pulsing around him as you let out a moan. His hips stuttered slightly, and he managed a few more thrusts before releasing his seed inside you.

Both of you looked at each other, beaming from ear to ear. Jungkook planted a sensual kiss on your lips before pulling away, pressing his forehead to your own. “That was incredible,” he exclaimed, brushing your hair from your face. “It was,” you gasped, still catching your breath. “Jungkook…” “Yes,” he answered. “What’s wrong, Princess?” You were silent for a moment. “I think I love you,” you said nervously, looking away from him. His fingers pinched your chin and turned you back to face him. “That’s good,” he smiled. “Because I think I love you too.”

Six more visits had transpired since the first time you made love, and each time you found your limbs entangled with his, gasping with pleasure. You were becoming more and more fearful of the concept of marrying a stranger chosen by your parents, you only wanted Jungkook. Your parents had not sensed your distress or your weekly disappearances, too wrapped up in planning your sister’s lavish wedding. However, it turned out that you had also become distracted from something of note.

One of your maids entered your chambers. “Your highness,” she said, a bundle of cloth in her arms. “I’ve brought your rags for your monthly bleed. You hadn’t asked me for them, and it slipped my mind. If I’m right, your bleed should’ve started two weeks since? Is everything okay? Should I call a man of medicine?” You could feel the colour draining from your face and nausea filling your stomach. “It’s okay,” you lied. “I got them myself two weeks ago, I was in that part of the castle.” “Oh…” your maid frowned. “Forgive me, your highness, I am glad all is well. I’ll leave these rags in one of your draws for next time.” “Thank you,” you said, relieved she has believed your terrible untruth. Your maid was right, your monthly bleed had been due two weeks ago, but it hadn’t come. The truth sank heavy on your shoulders, Jungkook’s seed had taken root and you were pregnant. You were pregnant with Jungkook’s baby. You were pregnant with your ancestral enemy’s child.

END

feedback is always appreciated! please don’t repost or translate my work

[starfire-s]

here’s a list of the best, mediocre and worst kdramas i watched in 2020

no one asked for this but it’s happening because i have thoughts (also all opinions are my own if you disagree then get well soon i guess... no i’m kidding make your own posts about it don’t hate me please) ahsjsj anyways click to read a lengthy post and if you actually read the whole thing then thank you i hope you enjoy this wild ride! 

THE BEST KDRAMAS -

mystic pop up bar - this show had everything i ask from a kdrama literally i can name it all found family (to real family), well thought out characters, a mystery plot, special effects, soft romances that were well written, a happy ending! no show in 2020 even comes close to how good this one was! the writers literally guided you throughout the whole thing so you could come up with theories and didn’t do a ‘aha! gotcha’ thing where they want to prove the audience wrong but they wanted us to be right and satisfied! the worst part about the drama is that it’s still so underrated and people just brush it off as some random fantasy show but it’s so much more than that! 1000/10

flower of evil - who doesn’t want to see lee joon gi being the son of a serial killer, living with the name of a man who is in a coma, and hiding his real identity from his wife who is a detective? this show constantly had me at the edge of my seat on a weekly basis so the emotions i went through while watching this are unparalleled! the writers also did such a good job on writing a coherent story that made sense and tied up all the plot points in the end. just a really satisfying show to watch! 10/10

where your eyes linger - i literally bought a $8 viki pass to watch this show so it should tell you everything you need to know about how i feel ahsjsj the episodes were 10 minutes long but we got a good story with well written characters who got character development in a total of 80 minutes it’s insane! honestly it’s still hard to believe this show had rookie actors because they were just so emotive that you could feel all the happiness, sadness, yearning and pining! probably one of my fave kdramas this year because of the acting that i always constantly rewatch! would recommend 10/10

crash landing on you - okay so this drama was actually released on my birthday last year and it was a time in my life when i was going through a lot so maybe it’s the comfort this show provided me through that time this is why i have such a soft spot for it? like the romance was good, it was funny, there was found family, the nk soldiers were all softies, there were strong female leads, soft male leads!!! ahh!! no other show on this list made me think about the unification of south korea and north korea irl because i wanted se ri and jeong hyeok to be together 4ever! but the only issue i had with this show was the ending they gave seung jun if they didn’t do that i’d give this show a 10/10 but just for that they get a 9/10

psycho but it’s okay - this was one of those shows where you’re literally like ‘wow everyone here needs therapy’ but this show was amazing i loved the story telling and how each episode related to children’s book/fairytales! the writers also did a good job with how carefully they talked about mental health in depth without villainising their characters but actually tried to make the audience understand why they were this way which included all the side characters too who had a well thought out story in each episode! also the dynamic between moon young, kang tae and sang tae was everything to me the actors all did an amazing job portraying their characters, it truly was a healing drama. the only thing i didn’t like about this show was the whole plastic surgery plot with the mother like that was very far fetched but it provided drama so i’ll let it slide because the rest was amazing. this show is a solid 8.5/10

18 again - another underrated gem! who would’ve thought a remake of that zac efron movie could be this good!! lee do hyun stole this show for sure the way he portrayed his character and gave heart eyes to his kids (when he’s only 25 irl was the best thing i saw this year ahsjs) i loved the family dynamics in this show, i loved how it talked about what it’s like to be young parents and how society still think it’s taboo to be divorced! it’s a show that makes you laugh and cry at the same time and that’s why everyone should watch it! however, the biggest clown thing this show did to me though was that i got sls for the first time while watching a kdrama... hwang in yeop if u’re reading this i love u and u deserved better 🤡 that aside this show was a 8/10

itaewon class - i actually didn’t watch this drama as it was airing because i thought i wouldn’t enjoy the plot but when i watched it i binged the whole thing in 2 days and my biggest regret is i didn’t watch it sooner! everyone knows i have a soft spot for park seo joon since he’s my favourite actor i’ve literally watched all his dramas like he could star in the trashiest drama out there and i’d still watch it and be like wow (looking at she was pretty 👀) this show aside from the acting had one of the best revenge plots in a kdrama! just watching a character realistically hustle his way to reach the top while fighting the corrupt man whose son killed his father was so so satisfying to watch! however, the love triangle in this show was questionable idk what they were trying to do with that but it personally annoyed me! but still i’ll give this show a 7.5/10 because i enjoyed it a lot!

do you like brahms? - kim min jae and park eun bin.. that’s all you need to know about why this is a good kdrama! i’m usually not a big fan of melodramas and everyone knows i prefer rom coms but this show was just so perfectly melo that i loved all the angst and pain we got!! also just watching two introverted people awkwardly fall in love was amazing! the characters story arcs were also handled pretty well with song ah finally learning to speak up for herself and joon young learning to express how he truly feels! but... the love square? was probably the most annoying thing the rest in my opinion was nicely done! i know people had mixed feelings about the ending but i loved that after all the pain joon young and song ah went through they got a happy ending together! 7/10

find me in your memory - okay this show started off very slow and it was confusing at the start but as it progressed everything in the plot started to fall into place! i mean this show really took opposites attract to a new level where the male lead could remember every single detail from his life but the female lead had to forget some of her traumatic memories to help her cope with her life! they were also tied together through a mutual character who was a big part of their lives in a different way! just an interesting melodrama with interesting characters i liked it! and moon ga young... i love you queen!!! 7/10

THE MEDIOCRE KDRAMAS -

more than friends - was the storytelling in this show groundbreaking? no. was the acting decent? yes. also probably the main reason i stuck with this show until the end! i think we can all agree lee soo had the best character development on this show he started off as a bad boy who wore one ear stud to actually becoming a well liked character... who else did it like him? no one. also the chemistry between the mains was 🔥 but the second male lead was so annoying is there a opposite word for second lead syndrome because i had that for sure! i think the best part about this show was the people i watched it with on here... shoutout to the five of us ahsjsj also this show introduced me to a talented actor/singer like ong seong wu (y’all know my kpop knowledge is nonexistent so no i didn’t know he was in a band called wanna one) all in all a predictable show but i had fun watching it so 6.5/10

tale of the nine tailed - i didn’t actually watch this show i watched it through gifs and instagram posts ahsjsjs so am i qualified to talk about my opinion definitely no... will I talk about it anyways yes lmao. lee rang deserved better that’s all goodbye and take care. 5.5/10

start up - probably one of the most awaited opinions. y’all thought this would be in the worst kdramas section but i decided to give this show some rights. the show started off strong, lost it’s way after episode 6 and then the last episode gave me what i wanted so i have mixed feelings. the writing was not the best i think we can all agree, love triangle as a plot device? wow so groundbreaking 🤡 the characters on the other hand... i loved every single one of them i mean ship wars? i don’t know her. the show had a lot of potential that was wasted but we also got some cute moments between the characters so there was really no winning or losing with this show? but in all honesty you can’t put a talented cast together like this and then just decide to give the audience a mediocre plot but the writers did exactly that! i think i can redirect y’all to my ‘crimes this show committed’ post for a in-depth analysis. lastly nam do san was a GOOD and REFRESHING male lead and ji pyeong was also a GOOD and FUN second male lead!!! this show gave me the ugliest ship war ever that i was transported back to my high school tvd days so thank you for that!! but the cast was loveable and all had a lot of chemistry together so here’s a 5/10 maybe that's too generous but... i think the reason why i didn't enjoy watching this show as much was definitely because of the tag on here lmao

THE WORST KDRAMAS -

the king eternal monarch - i miss clowning this show so much. the amount of braincells i lost while trying to understand this plot... i should be compensated by the writers. however, woo do hwan was a treat to look at on a weekly basis... however the writers kept decreasing his screen time even though he had a dual role... make it make sense? and i cannot comment on the plot of this show because i still don’t understand anything? also in my opinion tae eul and lee gon were the most bland couple of 2020, there was no chemistry between them and there was just a random kiss in episode 5 and they randomly said i love you... where was the development? also lee gon was soooo boring and such a one dimensional male lead! literally all the side characters were so much more interesting and the cast was good... but this plot. 2/10

do do sol sol la la sol - i wanna fight the writer who decided that the plot twist on the show would be that jun is a minor? i had no expectations from this show but it looked cute and nonsensical but that plot twist made me run the other way so fast that i never looked back! just because jun is a boy they really thought this would be excused like lmao we all have critical thinking skills???? the clown behaviour. a solid 1/10

record of youth - i hate this show so much. imagine not utilising park so dam who just starred in the biggest oscar winning movie to her full potential. imagine just making her a love interest to park bo gum’s character in the year 2020. i watched it up until episode 6 and i kept waiting for her character to get development... but it never happened so i dropped this show. also this show featured the MOST useless love triangle i have ever seen in my life like what was the point? also park bo gum’s characters family was straight up annoying (minus the grandpa) but they got so much screen time like that should’ve been given to park so dam... also villainising a gay side character for no reason at all in the year 2020? this show was a waste of my time i want the 6 hours i spent watching this back. -100/10 

backstreet rookie - i watched one episode of this and literally wanted to rip my eyeballs out of my head. idk what ji chang wook was thinking when he signed this drama i think he lost his ability to read because that's the only reasonable explanation for why he chose to star in such a dumpster fire show! this show had a racist character... had a high schooler kiss an adult... sexist jokes... just the worst things you can think of in a drama... this show had it. i still can’t believe so many people watched this show to the point where it had better ratings than pbio... really made me question everyone’s taste? but sorry can’t relate my taste is excellent so here’s the rating this show actually deserves -1000/10

if you made it this far... thank you for reading. let’s continue to love some kdramas together and get clowned by others in 2021! looking forward to it 😅

[purrincess-chat]

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH29

The plans are in motion! Just a reminder, after I post CH30 next week, I will be taking a break through the month of September to finish up the final edit. I’ll probably be scarce around this blog as well during that time cause I’ve got to work on my BB piece as well, but my queue is loaded through like January of next year, so it’ll be like I’m not even gone. 

Previous     First      Next       AO3

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Chapter 29: Take Cover

Marinette and Adrien stared at his phone, jaws hanging agape. The silence stretched on until Chloe sighed, and Marinette blinked out of her trance.

“I’m sorry. We’re going to what now?” she asked.

“Ugh, just get over here.” Chloe hung up.

Marinette and Adrien exchanged bewildered looks, and he shrugged as if to say, ‘I have no idea what just happened either.’ Chloe wasn’t one to keep waiting, so they gathered their things and piled into Adrien’s town car. On the drive over, Adrien laced their fingers together, tracing patterns on the back of Marinette’s palm with his thumb. She smiled up at him, that familiar, fluttery feeling spreading through her chest.

She’d dreamed of being Adrien’s girlfriend since they day they met. To her surprise, she was calmer about the whole situation than she’d expected. She wasn’t planning their wedding or naming their future pets, and she’d only daydreamed about his soft lips twenty times that day. They knew each other better now and had grown more comfortable with one another.

Adrien was a true friend and a stable rock in the middle of a storm, always there for her to fall back on if she needed. If it weren’t for him, she would be drowning in her own anguish. Lila may think she had the upper hand, but Marinette and Adrien were the perfect team. Nothing could stop them when they worked together.

Chloe was staring out at her balcony when they arrived, a pensive frown wrinkling her forehead. She turned to them, pursing her lips to mask her expression as they approached. They eyed each other in tense silence until Marinette spoke up.

“So,” she started, “what?”

Chloe rolled her eyes and rubbed her temple with a sigh.

“Look, don’t go getting any ideas. This isn’t about you; it’s about revenge,” Chloe said. “Lila seems to feel the most threatened by you, so I think it will have more of an impact if your name is associated with all of this charity work, and the only way to make anyone else care enough to report about it is to make you someone worth talking about.”

“What makes you think Lila is threatened by me?” Marinette asked with a disbelieving grunt. “All she ever does is toy with me.”

“And why do you think that is?” Chloe rolled her eyes when Marinette still seemed lost. “When someone like her feels threatened, they lash out and try to bring you down.”

“Is that why you were always so mean to me?” Marinette’s eyes narrowed, a smirk curling on her lips.

“Don’t lump me in with her! I’m mean to people for the sheer entertainment of watching them suffer. Totally different.” Chloe scoffed.

“Okay, so how exactly do you plan on making Marinette famous?” Adrien asked.

“Easily.” Chloe shrugged. “The dumb brat has already started making a name for herself, and more and more important people are starting to notice her talent, if you want to call it that.”

“I will ignore the insult in favor of the compliment.” Marinette crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip.

“Look, even my mom has complimented your work, so I think we should—as disgusting as this is—ask my mom to help you launch your fashion career.” Chloe cringed as she said it.

Marinette stared at her for a long moment, and Chloe shifted her weight with a moan.

“Stop looking at me like that!”

“You’re being serious right now?” Marinette asked.

“I know. Even I’m shocked.” Chloe wrinkled her nose.

“You want to help me start my fashion career? Now?”

“It’s the only way to take down that brat for good,” Chloe said, cheeks pink. “After this, I will go back to hating you and thinking you are a talentless nobody.”

“This is uncharacteristically nice of you, Chloe,” Adrien said with a smile. “I’m proud of you.”

“Don’t get any ideas, Dupain-Cheng. I’m not going to be caught dead wearing your trash, but my mom wanted to train you, so I think it’s our best shot.” Chloe shrugged.

“So, what? We’re just going to walk up to your mom and ask her to work with me?” Marinette scoffed as if it were the most absurd thing she’d ever heard. Because it was.

“Pretty much.” Chloe marched past her.

“Wait, we’re going right now?”

“We want to take Lila down this century, Dupain-Cheng,” Chloe said pointedly, crossing the hall to her mother’s suite.

“But…wait, Chloe-” Marinette rushed after her as she barged into the room across the hall.

Audrey was in the middle of a hot stone massage, and Marinette curled her shoulders.

“I don’t think we should disturb her-”

“Mommy,” Chloe said, and Audrey gave some groan of acknowledgement. “You remember my dreadful former classmate, the one who designed the feather hat for Adrien?”

“Vaguely,” Audrey said.

“Well, Clara Nightingale walked the red carpet in one of her designs, and I think you should back her brand,” Chloe said.

“I thought you hated this girl-”

“You and me both,” Marinette grumbled.

“-now it sounds like you’re being nice.” Audrey choked on the word.

“There’s a nasty girl at school that I want to get rid of, and I need to make Dupain-Cheng famous to do it.” Chloe explained.

Audrey moaned as the masseuse worked a knot in her shoulders.

“Get me a portfolio by this time next week, then we’ll talk,” she said.

Chloe clapped her hands together. “Thank you, Mommy.”

“Wait, I’m sorry, a week?” Marinette blanched.

“Fashion moves quickly, dear, so if you want to be relevant, you’ll get me your portfolio with a pitch by next week,” Audrey said more sternly.

“She’ll have it ready,” Chloe promised.

Marinette shot her a look. “I’m not so sure she can-”

“Enjoy your massage.” Chloe grabbed Marinette’s arm and dragged her from the room.

“Chloe, I don’t know if I can-”

"Oh, shut it." Chloe clamped her hand in a mouth-shutting motion. "You are annoyingly persistent when you want to be. I've seen you accomplish way more in less time, so don't you even say you can't do it because if anyone has got what it takes, it's you, and if you tell anyone I said that, I will destroy everything you love."

“A week? To come up with an entire line,” Marinette said. “Not to mention it has to impress your mom—the queen of fashion!”

“And?” Chloe shrugged. Did she hear herself? What was so hard to understand about the absurdity of the situation?

“Chloe’s right, Marinette, you can do this,” Adrien took her hands and gave them a reassuring squeeze.

“But what if I can’t?” Marinette asked. “What if Audrey hates my designs or if I can’t come up with a whole line in time?”

“Then your fashion career is dead, and I’ll just get rid of Lila my way.” Chloe sauntered back to her suite. “Toodles!”

Marinette leaned her face into Adrien’s shoulder with a moan, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“I know this is a lot of pressure, but you are the most amazing girl I know. You’re an incredible designer, and I know you’re going to crush it.” He pressed his forehead to hers, those green eyes shining with a confidence she wished she felt.

She took a deep, centering breath and nodded.

“Okay.” She pressed her lips into a firm line. “Let’s do it.”

♪♫♪ Misery Business ♪♫♪

Lila glared down at her phone screen, her laptop playing Clara’s acceptance speech in the background which only made her blood boil hotter. As if that stupid bakery brat needed more attention. Marinette pulled a couple fast ones on her, but Lila always got the last laugh. She stared down at Adrien’s Instagram post again with a scowl.

“So proud of @marinette-dc! I’m so lucky to have such an amazing girlfriend like you.”

Most of their classmates had already liked it, but it didn’t matter. Lila would figure out a way to spin this back on Marinette. The cracks were already forming in her little good girl reputation. Lila just needed to apply pressure, then everything would come crumbling down.

♪♫♪ Look What You Made Me Do ♪♫♪

The next day at school, Marinette was quite the hot topic after her big debut. Everyone was buzzing about Clara’s dress, and she received compliments left and right, though she found it hard to enjoy her moment with Audrey’s deadline looming over her.

She’d spent all night brainstorming ideas, but so far she had nothing. Nada. Zilch. No ideas. No inspiration. Nothing, and she was a sweaty ball of nerves. Numerous times she’d tried to give herself pep talks. She saved the city on a daily basis, fought ten-ton monsters and tricky magicians. How hard could it be to design a few dresses and coats?

Infinitely hard, as it turned out. In fact, part of her wished it was as easy as fighting an akuma. That there was some clever shortcut to her end goal, but there were no such things in this case. Just her own imagination and the wall between it and her sketchpad.

“Why so glum?” Macy asked as Marinette shoved books into her locker. “Shouldn’t you be excited about your dress? Everyone loves it. Things didn’t go bad with Adrien after we left, did they?” She cupped her cheeks in horror.

“No.” Marinette assured her with a laugh. “Everything is fine, but I just… Another amazing opportunity has fallen in my lap, and I don’t think I can do it, and I’m stressing out over it.”

“Yeah, you are breaking out a little.” Lisette pointed out, and Marinette covered her chin with a groan.

“You’re amazing, Marinette, and you always find a solution,” Macy said, but when Marinette seemed less than convinced, she pursed her lips. “Tell you what, Lisette can help you cover your zit, and we’ll help you get your mojo back, okay?”

“Okay,” Marinette said, allowing Macy to tug her to the bathroom where Lisette managed to completely erase any signs of her stress. Honestly, she was a wizard with a tube of concealer.

“There they are with the lady of the hour,” Eliott said when they met up for lunch. “How did your alone time go with a certain model last night?”

“He gave me this necklace.” She pulled it from under her collar with a soft smile.

“How romantic!” Lisette said.

“How sparkly.” Macy added with a longing look until Eliott nudged her with his elbow.

“We should double date this weekend. The weather is going to be nice, so we could go golfing.” Eliott suggested, and Macy shot up.

“Oh! Can I come? My parents are part-owners at one of the courses so my dad can play whenever he wants.” She bounced excitedly.

“Fine, but you have to bring a date,” Eliott said.

“I’ll just bring Martin again.” Macy shrugged.

“That’s cheating.”

“How? You said to bring a date, so I’ll bring a date.”

“You didn’t even ask him!”

“Fine! Martin, will you be my date?” Macy turned to him with pleading eyes, and his cheeks flushed.

“Uh, sure,” he said.

“Ha!” Macy stuck her tongue out at Eliott.

“That’s all fun and everything, but I’ve never played golf,” Marinette said. “Besides, I have a lot to do.”

“Oh, come on, Marinette. We can teach you,” Macy said. “Please?”

“I-” Marinette hesitated when they all gave her pleading looks. “We’ll see.”

“What’s so urgent that you can’t come out, Marinette?” Eliott asked as they took their seats.

“Does it have to do with that girl?” Martin lowered his voice.

“Kind of…” Marinette took a deep breath before explaining the entire situation—the plan, her deadline, all of it.

“Whoa, you’re really gonna pitch to Audrey Bourgeois?” Lisette whispered, eyes wide.

“I’m gonna try,” Marinette pushed her peas around with a spoon. “I’m kinda running on empty right now.”

“If you need any help let us know, okay?” Macy reached out to place a hand over hers.

“Yeah, we know tons about fashion and starting charities, not to mention handling drama queens.” Eliott echoed. “We’ve got your back.”

Marinette smiled, though the sentiment didn’t reach her eyes. It wasn’t their fault that Marinette was never going to make it in the world of fashion. When she inevitably failed, Adrien would probably dump her, Lila would take over the world, and she’d be left selling stupid little trinkets off of a cart to tourists. Why did she let Chloe talk her into this?

♪♫♪ Yeah Right ♪♫♪

“Good morning, Lila! I have your geometry homework!” Sabrina greeted on the front staircase the next morning.

Lila feigned a smile. Sabrina was annoying, but she did all of Lila’s homework, so she usually didn’t complain. After that brat Marinette scored a point against her last night with the award’s show, Lila wasn’t in the mood to deal with clingy girls with dependency issues.

“Thank you so much, Sabrina. You’re such a sweetheart,” Lila said.

“How is your ankle feeling? Do you need anything? Aspirin? A hot compress? Foot massage?” Sabrina offered.

“Well, it feels much better than it did a week ago, but if I walk around a lot, it gets a little sore. Would you mind taking my bag to my locker for me?” Lila slipped her bag off her shoulder and held it out.

“Of course! You rest that ankle,” Sabrina said without hesitation.

Lila smirked as she trotted off to the locker room. At least Sabrina was easy to get rid of. Some of her other idiots would have insisted on walking her to class—a commitment Lila didn’t have time for today. She needed to figure out her next move against Marinette. Everyone was still conflicted over the stairs incident from the Louvre. That stupid goody-goody built up a reputation over the years that wasn’t so easily collapsible. Even still, every shred of doubt Lila could cast would pile up in the end.

“I see you’re still walking around like you own the place.”

Lila stopped a few steps into the school, jaw clenching. Adrien was leaning against the wall just inside the door, and he pushed away when she narrowed her eyes, taking slow, deliberate steps toward her.

“In case you hadn’t noticed, I do own the place,” she said. “Or I will soon enough.”

“I’ve warned you before, Lila, but you didn’t listen. What you did to Marinette was not okay,” he said darkly, green eyes narrowed into slits.

“Oh? And what are you going to do about it? Call another one of your celebrity buddies to call me a liar? Go ahead, it’ll help me win these losers over even faster.” Lila crossed her arms over her chest and cocked a hip. “You can’t beat me, Adrien. You’re too nice to get your hands dirty.”

“If you do anything else to Marinette, you’re going to learn how nice I am.” He glowered down at her, sending a shiver down Lila’s spine. “You hurt someone I love, so enjoy your reign while it lasts. Pretty soon everyone is going to see you for who you really are, and I won’t feel sorry for you.”

He brushed past her, and Lila rolled her eyes. He was bluffing, and even if he wasn’t, Lila could handle anything he threw at her. Whatever they were plotting, Lila wasn’t going down without a fight.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 26

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: no smut this time, just bucky meeting the family

NEXT CHAPTER

Her mother pulled Bucky into the house. She lived exactly where he’d expect her to live in, a dark academia sort of environment in shades of green, burgundy and dark browns. The walls were filled with shelves containing seas and seas of books and little memorabilia. There were photos of the family on the walls and Bucky noticed the little one right by the staircase of a young girl in a periwinkle dress sat on the beach with a bright smile whom he was absolutely certain was his Y/N. The woman continued to lead them until what he guessed was the living room where the fireplace was on and two kids were running around.

Bucky stood behind with Y/N as her mother made haste towards the drinks’ trolley where Y/N was almost sure the same watered down bottle her brother Anthony had constantly stolen from as a teenager still stood. They were lucky enough not to still have been noticed, her family having an weirdly tradition of not allowing anyone in the living area until they had a drink in hand. Of course she knew why, her family made so many questions both appropriate and inappropriate you’d have to be positively inebriated to deal with it. 

     - Everyone... - Lucy, Y/N’s mother, handed Bucky a burgundy coloured liquid before pulling him inside the living room. - Don’t be shy, Bucky. Everyone, this is Bucky, he’s Y/N’s boyfriend. 

     - I thought he’d be smaller. - a man got up from the dark burgundy couch, walking up to Bucky with an extended hand towards him. Bucky looked at his hand then at his own, before switching to shake it with his flesh arm rather than the metal aberration he’d covered with a glove. - Had a nice flight? Little bean here said she booked first flight tickets even though I told her it’s ...

    - A waste of money, I know dad. - Y/N interrupted. 

    - It was nicer than I expected, sir. - Bucky said yet Y/N could see that little smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. - Your daughter made it all the better.

    - Hope she didn’t bother you with leitmotifs. - another man who looked just around Y/N’s age piped up.

     - Colin, don’t even say that word, it might get her started. - a girl, blonde hair dressed in a baby blue dress added. - Oh wow, you’re athletic.

     - C’mon El, you promised to help me tease Y/N about her first serious boyfriend. - Colin wrapped his arms around Y/N but she merely playfully slapped his chest. - Look at you, the last Y/L/N sibling to introduce someone to the family. We were gonna buy you a cake but mum said no.

    - Colin Y/L/N, leave your sister be. - Lucy slapped her son’s head. - We are very happy that Y/N and Bucky are here. 

   - She’s happy there’s a chance you might give her grandchildren. - Colin whispered before adopting that grin that as children made Y/N want to throw a pillow at him.

   - Colin, I said to leave your sister be. - Lucy wrapped her arms around her eldest daughter. - That is not the reason I’m happy you’re dating. Me and your father were just afraid that you would be a bit lonely in New York.

   - Because you have no friends. - Eloise added.

   - Eloise, leave your sister be. She has plenty of friends. - their father added, not moving from his chair where he had returned to read the paper. 

   - Where is your sister? She should be here to meet Bucky.

   - Claire is busy with her husband convincing my husband to get me to have a rat-like creature they call a baby. - Eloise sat down on the other couch, legs crossed over each other. - Do you want a baby, Bucky?

   - Eloise! - Y/N yelled out of shame. Now she understood why her mother looked so dead whenever she had to go shopping with 4 children at 10 AM. She was clearly wrong to think her siblings would act like regular human beings in front of a guest, they barely acted like regular human beings on a regular basis. - We should go put the bags in my bedroom.

   - No, wait, beanie. CLAIRE! CLAIRE COME SAY HI TO YOUR SISTER AND BUCKY! - Y/N’s mother rushed to the kitchen, yelling out whom he guessed was the name of Y/N’s last sibling. Out of the kitchen and into the living room came a girl dressed in the same dress as Eloise except it was purple, holding a bundle of blankets against her chest. 

  - Aw, let me hold Sophie. - Y/N dropped her bags to meet her sister who handled her the baby. Bucky inspected the scene, watching as her embarrassed facade quickly changed into one of wonder as she looked at her niece. - Look at you, you’re so cute, Miss Sophie, yes you are. 

  - Claire, say hi to Bucky.

  - Why is he so tall? - she shook his hand. - I thought you’d be smaller with that nickname.

Is this was Steve felt like after the serum? Bucky had never stopped to consider that maybe his nickname sounded like a name you’d give a short guy, to be honest, he doesn’t even remember how it came to be, he just remembered his mum calling it and it sticking. However, he did have to admit that he enjoyed seeing everyone’s confused look once they met him as if he was the tallest man alive when he was barely taller than Y/N’s brother. 

    - Conor, Jack come meet Bucky too. - Y/N’s mum held two men by the arm who looked as lost in the family reunion as Bucky did. - Conor’s Eloise’s husband and Jack’s Claire’s. 

    - Okay. - Y/N interrupted before anyone else told her boyfriend he was too tall. Handing Sophie back to her sister, she held Bucky’s hand. - We are going to put the bags upstairs and take the coats off and we’ll return. 

Y/N knew her family way too well. She had been here when Claire brought Jack home for the first time and her father questioned him about a notorious case followed by Colin asking him if he needed earbuds for Claire’s snoring. She had also been there when Conor and all of Colin’s girlfriends so she knew when it was time to run away with Bucky from her very devoted and very curious family who had already decided to have the baby conversation with him before she had even mention it.

Bucky looked at the photos that were scattered on the staircases’ wall. He could always pinpoint where Y/N was, normally in the front with those beautiful, shining eyes. He noticed one particular photo of Y/N alone against a dark blue background in her graduation gown holding her diploma, posing like a beauty queen. He made a note to sneak a photo of it once she wasn’t looking.

She led him into her bedroom. It was a rather small one in tones of white and beige with a double bed. The walls were clean rather than one with a bookcase of dark wood filled with books, trophies and little frames of photos of her as a kid. Her bed had a small white lamb laying on it with some heart shaped pillows and a knitted beige blanket. 

     - Is that you? - Bucky rushed to the shelf to grab a photo of Y/N as a toddler dressed as a ballerina holding a golden medal.

    - Yeah. My grandmother was a prima ballerina so she made all of us do ballet which came quite in handy when I was in Phantom. - she put her coat on the hook on the door. - Sorry about my mum, and my dad and my siblings. I should already apologise for their husbands and the toddlers you haven’t met yet since they’re out with Grandma Louis who I’m also sorry for. 

     - That’s fine. I think they don’t hate me much.

    - It’s better than when Colin introduced Kate, mum was so upset she didn’t speak to her. I would say they love you. 

     - So which one is the oldest? Is there an hierarchy I should know about?

     - I’m the oldest then Colin, Claire and finally Eloise. Eloise got married first and then Claire and Colin is living la vie boheme. 

     - And you? - he wrapped his arms around her waist

    - I’m the actress. Once Aunt Petunia or Grandma Louis gets here you’ll listen to the “the debate team champion becomes an actress kissing all those men and she’s still single” discussion. I also apologise for that in advance. 

    - Well but you are not single anymore. - Bucky leaned down to kiss her. - And I will allow you to parade me as your boyfriend. It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make. 

    - Ah yes, my three time three-time boxing champion boyfriend. 

    - You’re not gonna drop that, aren’t you?

    - What? It’s very alluring, gets me going.

    - Is that why you gave me an handjob at the airport, princess? - he leaned down to whisper against her ear. She felt goosebumps raise up her skin, mouth drying up as she tried to find the words. - You better have thick walls, princess. 

   - Beanie ... - her mother knocked on the door, pushing the door slightly open and sticking her head in. - We were wondering if Bucky ate meat. We bought this meat that’s not really meat and it’s vegan. I asked some of my colleagues at work to help me cook it and we made some but we can make more if Bucky wants some.

    - No, Mrs. I’m okay with anything, it’s fine. 

    - Non sense. Y/N tell Bucky he can pick what to eat. You’re American right? I’m making some chicken nuggets for the kids and Colin, I could make you some if you’d like. 

    - Mum, that’s stereotypical. 

   - Nonsense, beanie. What do you want to eat, Bucky?

   - I’ll eat whatever Y/N does, m’am. - he tried to hide the little grin as Y/N stood by his side still processing what Bucky had just said to her. - It’s fine, m’am, really. I don’t want to be a bother, I’m so grateful you and your family are okay with having me for Christmas. 

Lucy merely smiled at him as a way of saying it was no problem. Y/N knew her family, they adored to embarrass their children in front of their partners, lovers, and friends but they would adore whoever their children adored as if they belonged to the family since the dawning of time. The actress rose her head to look at her boyfriend, staring at the door like a fading vision on the desert, relaxed muscles and expression. Her hold on his hand strengthened as her head laid against his shoulder, laying a small kiss on the fabric of his shirt.

     - Do you want to go downstairs? We can stay here for a few minutes before dinner. 

     - Yeah, princess. - he snapped himself out of his state, smiling down at his caring girlfriend before following her down the stairs.

Her family had a lot of photos, some on big frames on the wall and other small ones in coffee tables and other surfaces. He couldn’t help but look at them, watching Y/N through the ages and wondering how she was. She always had that look, that inner shyness and bright eyed appearance. Most photos were school photos with that dark blue background followed by a few backstage photos of her in elaborate stage makeup and costumes. Bucky wanted a photo of her, any photo of her, to have in his wallet. Not that he would forget what she looked like, he could never forget it but he wanted to. He wanted to look at her face whenever he paid for his coffee, show people when they asked about her, he guessed he wanted to have the same pride in showing his girlfriend his father had about showing his mother. He wanted a suburban existence, no more Winter Soldier, no more Avengers, just James Barnes. Yet, he also knew he did not deserve that. No, he had taken that structure from so many people he didn’t deserve it. 

Once in the living room, there were more people, notably two kids running around the Christmas tree and two women sat by the beautifully placed table. He felt shy, not knowing exactly what to say, barely knowing these people. 

    - Ah, let me look at you. - one of the woman from the table got up and walked towards them. Bucky thought none of it, thinking it to be directed towards Y/N until the woman took him by surprise by cupping his face. - You’re just gorgeous. Nice eyes, strong features. 

     - Aunt Petunia! - Y/N took her aunt’s hands away from Bucky’s face. - Please. 

     - You know what they say about men with strong features, great lovers, great breeders.

     - Oh my god. - that’s it, she was no longer going to have a boyfriend once she got back to New York. - Bucky, this is my aunt Petunia. 

     - Nice to meet you m’am. - Bucky extended his hand to her but the woman merely pushed him towards the table.

     - I thought she was kidding when she said she was bringing someone home yet here you are. - she led both of them to side by side seats on the table. - So, Bucky have you meet Grandma Louis?

    - I’m afraid not. 

    - Look ma, Y/N brought a boyfriend home. 

   - Can we please not treat this like a world limited event?

   - Nope. - Colin sat next to Y/N. - I had a bet with Eloise you’d date a 50 year old librarian and I lost which is unfair because 100 year old soldier is almost the same. 

   - It’s not and you know it. - Eloise argued from the other side of the table. - How’s the movie, Y/N? 

   - It’s ... good. - she forced a smile, not wanting to show the same family who always wondered why unlike every of her siblings she, the debate captain and champion, had turned down the option to do Law and instead pursued an acting career. Did acting made her happy? Yes. Did the movie made her happy? No. 

   - She’s the best actress I have ever met and seen. - Bucky drew invisible circles over her palm. - Everyone’s always speechless during her takes. 

   - That’s my beanie, always the best at whatever she does. - Y/N’s father added. - Besides, one of us has to not be a lawyer. We’re starting to be known as the lawyer family. 

   - So Bucky, are you enjoying London? Have you ever been? - Claire asked while putting the bibs on her two toddlers who were still happily playing with toy cars on the table.

   - Long time ago, it’s a bit different now. 

   - Y/N should take you to see the tree in Trafalgar, it’s absolutely stunning. - Lucy added. - It’s where her father purposed. 

   - It’s where everyone purposed in this family. We need a new tradition. - Colin rolled his eyes. 

   - If it were up to you, you’d purpose in a McDonalds after coming from the pub. 

   - Shut up, Eloise. 

Bucky merely kept to himself during the dinner, replying to the questions that were thrown his way and laughing at the jokes. There was the odd questions every once and then which Y/N would normally reply to followed by telling him she was sorry which he found adorable. Normally it was him who was defensive over her, too defensive even and to see her take on the role warmed his heart. The dinner ran smoothly and soon everyone was sat on the couch by the fireplace. She was by his side, head on his shoulder as a It’s a Wonderful Life played on the television. 

The night kept going in and in until everyone decided to climb up to their respective bedrooms. Y/N turned on the heating the moment she came in, stripping onto her own cozy red pyjamas while Bucky kept inspecting her room. She had a bunch of books and programs from various West End musicals as well as a few bits of Star Wars memorabilia scattered on the shelves and a Phantom of the Opera music box on her desk. What caught his attention was the tiny miniature of a white picked fence house on her bedside table. Had she been an avid miniature collector and he didn’t know about it?

    - Hey, what’s this? - he pointed at the little house.

    - Oh ... that.

    - Is it a sore topic? I’m sorry princess, I didn’t mean to ...

    - It’s okay, Bucky. - she smiled. - It’s just a silly thing from when I was a kid. I told my mum I wanted to marry Luke Skywalker and move into a white picket fence home and she bought me it. Then I just wanted the house as I grew up but hey I live in SoHo, the best I can do is get another one of those

   - You want a white picket fence house?

   - It’s silly. - she hide her head as a familiar heat climbed up to her cheeks. Bucky placed the miniature back where it was, walking up to her. 

   - It’s not silly. I like picket white fence houses too, princess.

   - You do?

   - Yeah. One of my cousins had one when I was a kid and I always envisioned one for myself. 

  - Did you? 

  - Yeah and then I met you and I thought screw the home, as long as I get to come home everyday to you we could be living in a cardboard home but if you want a white picked fence house than I’ll give you one.

  - Buck ...

  - I’m not kidding. - he smiled at her. - We’ll live wherever you���d like and every single day we’ll come back home to each other and I will pretend I’m not tired so I can stay up and look at you smiling at those TV show reruns you like so much.

  - You like them too. - she added. 

  - Maybe but until then ... - he walked up to his bag removing an worn out big navy blue box. - You can have this. 

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[thetypedwriter]

Cold Iron Heart Book Review

Cold Iron Heart by Melissa Marr Book Review 

I don’t think many people are aware or have read the Wicked Lovely series by Melissa Marr, but that’s alright. I originally started this book blog as I had so many thoughts and feelings about the books I was reading and yet no one to share them with. 

So I might be talking to me, myself and I in this book review, but at the end of the day, it’s still a way for me to express how I feel about the literature I’m consuming even if no one else is reading this. 

Wicked Lovely is one of my favorite series from when I was young. I still remember very clearly how my love story with these books started as it was odd and coincidental. I was at the grocery store with my mom and a promised “quick” trip quickly turned into an hour-long shopping spree as my mother was prone to do. 

Back then I was in middle school, had no cell phone, and was bored out of my mind. So what is any pre-teen to do? I went over to the small, sad book selection in the grocery story and picked up the novel with the most interesting cover. 

This book was Wicked Lovely by Melissa Marr. 

I read it the rest of the day and finished it that night, consuming page after page. I was completely transfixed. It was dark, gritty, violent, sexy-all things that my twelve-year old self found entirely fascinating. 

It was a fantasy book about fairies, but these fairies were deadly, life-sized, cruel, violent, beautiful and loving. 

I’ve been enamored with fairies and fairy lore ever since. All because of this book and the series that followed. It hooked me in ways that I still don’t fully comprehend, but I understood then that I hadn’t read anything like it before and I was drawn into Melissa Marr’s world and never quite left it, even all these years later. I’ve gone back and re-read Wicked Lovely multiple times and each time I still found it enjoyable and alluring. 

Cold Iron Heart is a different beast. 

A few days ago, my best friend (who is a journalist) sent me an email saying that local Arizona author, Melissa Marr, was releasing a new book and that she might have the opportunity to interview her. 

I was ecstatic, of course, and not so subtly tried to persuade my friend to let me silently snoop in on the interview (I didn’t, by the way). 

It was then that I realized I hadn’t checked in on Melissa Marr for some time-what had she been writing? Imagine my surprise that one of my favorite series of all time not only had a new book-a prequel no less, but also several new short stories. 

I was flabbergasted. And beyond excited. 

So I ordered the book immediately and read it the moment it arrived on my doorstep to eventually find myself with...mixed feelings with a negative tinge. Okay, more than a tinge, more like a cascading waterfall of negative feelings. 

First off, the book is a prequel. 

Now. Melissa Marr could have done so many cool things with this. There are so many interesting characters that I would have loved to see more in depth or delve into their histories. 

Like Miach and Beira, for example. I’ve heard about the late Summer King since book 1, but never got to read about him as he was dead before the series began. However, his legendary love with Beira, the Winter Queen, would have been so incredibly bewitching to read about it, especially if it involved the birth of Keenan. 

This would have been an awesome choice. 

Irial and Niall would have been another incredible one, probably the best one. We’ve been told over and over again throughout the series that these two hot-heads with a past used to run the Dark Court together, wreaking havoc, taking lovers, seeking new heights, etc. 

But do we get to see this transfixing time? Nope. 

I would even have settled for a story about the Hunt, Sorcha and Bannanach, literally any character done in the right way. 

But...no. Melissa Marr decides to write a prequel that is literally a carbon copy of the first book Wicked Lovely, but innumerably worse. 

Everything in the prequel is exactly the same as the original novels. Miach is dead, Keenan is looking for his Summer Queen, the Winter Girl is pissed off for not being the chosen love of Keenan’s, Irial is temptation in the flesh, Niall and Irial are at odds, Bananach is causing discord, Sorcha is isolated and frigid, the list goes on and on. 

Nothing of consequence, novelty, or importance happens in this book. 

Frankly, it just felt like a terrible redo of the first novel, just set 100 years back. 

I didn’t give a single flying crap about Thelma or Tam or whatever her name was. She was a worse version of Leslie, of Aislinn, of every other cool female character we eventually get to read about in the main series. 

Thelma was contradictory in the worst of ways. She said one thing, like she would rely on no man and never have children and then turned around and did every single one of them like some sort of hypocrite galore. 

She was so irritating and boring to read about that I tended to skim her parts because it was just paragraph after paragraph of bitching and moaning about the same goddamn things over and over again: stay away from fairies, oh god this fairy likes me, no sex, no children, no love and then bam! She just throws it all away. 

Urgh. 

The worst part too is that this isn’t a well written book. It’s repetitive, quite boring at times, and caters way too much to the reader. 

Something I loved about the first Wicked Lovely is that Melissa Marr kinda just tosses you into her world and calls it a day. She doesn’t hold your hand or over explain. She just describes and lets you glean for yourself. 

I loved this aspect of the original series. I liked learning about her world and the characters this way. 

Cold Iron Heart spits on the idea of this concept. Marr repeats herself so much about the same things, who Irial is, what fairies are, why this is happening, that I grew increasingly irritated as the book went on. 

Who on earth is she explaining this for? New readers? Why in the world would any new reader start with this book? The newest one that comes after six others???? It makes no goddamn sense. 

So not only did I feel patronized and aggravated, but the love story between Thelma and Irial grated on me as there was no basis for their love. 

It was ridiculous with no shred of authenticity and I hated it, especially knowing that he already loves Niall and Leslie only to come back and say, “wait a moment! I had another true love that I’ve never mentioned before. Yeah. Her name was Thelma. Or Tam. Or whatever, I don’t know. I knew her for three days, most of which was just sex, and then I lost her after she had my baby but I conveniently forgot about it because of nonsensical plot! Hahahah, good right?”

No. Not good. Horrible. 

Overall, this book is a waste of time and trees. 

I don’t know why Melissa Marr even wrote and published this. I can see her writing this for herself because why not, but as a fan and a reader this was beyond disappointing. 

It’s like how all Harry Potter fans felt when J.K. Rowling wrote The Cursed Child and we got movies about Newt Scamander when we literally wanted anything else-Marauder series anyone??

It’s a particular kind of egregious offense when a favorite series or author of yours ends up ruining the canon you’re in love with. For that reason alone, I am stripping Cold Iron Heart from my heart and mind, like it never existed. 

Just like I did with Cursed Child, or the fact that you-know-who dies in Death Note (if you know, you know). I just...don’t believe it. It ruined all the lovely things Marr had previously written and the stories that defined so much of my love for YA, for fantasy, and for my own writing as a whole. 

I know for a lot of you this was a bumbling mess of a review with little to no clarity of the plot or who these characters are. Frankly, I’d be surprised if you are still reading if you didn’t know the book or the series in the first place, but that’s alright. 

Like I said at the beginning, this is a way to get my intense feelings and thoughts down onto paper and now that I have I feel marginally better, although still pissed off that this book exists and that I currently own it. 

Sigh. 

Well if you stuck around for the ride, I appreciate it. If you skipped this particular book review, I understand that too. 

Recommendation: Burn this book. However, if you want a gritty, tantalizing fantasy story, pick up the original Wicked Lovely and be whisked away into a world that has stuck with me since the first moment I read it on the fateful day at the grocery store. 

Score: 3/10

[jaxsteamblog]

Momtara and Dadko

Click here to read the entire fic on AO3

Content Warning: Suggestive Content

Zuko, as usual, woke up early in the morning. Katara recalled kissing him before he went on his run, but didn’t properly wake up until a few hours later. Normally, Zuko woke her up when he returned, so Katara was confused when her aide came knocking. 

After getting dressed, Katara walked into the dining room where Sokka, Suki, and the children were firmly entrenched in their breakfast. 

“Where’s Zuko?” She asked.

“He’s not with you?” Sokka asked, glancing up briefly before looking back down to continue feeding Lu Ten small pieces of bacon.

“Clearly.” Katara said dryly, taking her seat.

“Mommy, you are being mean to Uncle Sokka. You should say sorry.” Izumi said. 

“It’s okay.” Sokka said quickly.

“It’s not.” Katara said and sighed. “I have been mean. I’m stressed out and taking it out on you, which isn’t fair. I’m sorry Sokka.”

“I understand Kat. I forgive you.” Sokka replied.

“And I’m sorry Mimi. I shouldn’t have yelled at you yesterday.” Katara said, putting her hand on the top of Izumi’s head.

“I forgive you mommy.” Izumi said primly. “Now Kya.”

“I’m sorry Kya. I shouldn’t have yelled at you either.” Katara said, looking at her niece while stroking Izumi’s hair.

“Thank you Auntie.” Kya murmured, looking down at her plate.

“And Lu Ten!” Izumi chirped.

“What did I do to Lu Ten?” Katara asked, tilting her head down to look at Izumi.

“You left him out.” She stated.

“You’re right. I’m sorry Lu Ten.” Katara said.

Sokka picked up Lu Ten, thrusting the toddler over the table. Katara chuckled as she leaned across the corner to kiss Lu Ten. He, with his hands covered in greasy egg, grabbed onto her face as he kissed her back.

“Ew!” Kya and Izumi shrieked together. 

Katara leaned back, wiping her face off as the others started chattering once again.

“What did I miss?” Zuko asked as he walked in. Katara turned and was surprised to see him still in his running clothes. 

Then Hakoda, Malina, and Bato stepped in after him.

“Lu Ten got mommy messy.” Izumi answered.

“He seems especially skilled at that.” Zuko agreed. He walked to Katara and kissed her cheek.

“Good morning beloved.” He murmured.

“Kisses!” Lu Ten yelled. Zuko smiled and made his way down the table and around, going so far as to kiss Suki and Sokka’s cheeks. As he got to Sokka, he took Lu Ten from his lap and walked back to take his seat next to Katara.

“That’s very cute.” Malina remarked.

“Thank you. It was very weird at first; physical affection wasn’t something I was used to as a kid.” Zuko said, speaking easily enough to keep things from growing awkward.

“I can understand that! South Pole custom seems to be very touchy.” Malina said, playfully nudging Hakoda with her shoulder. 

“The first time I hugged Zuko, he thanked me and then shook my hand.” Sokka said. Bato sputtered out a laugh and Hakoda broke a smile. 

“Was he always like that?” Zuko asked, looking side to side for verification from the other South Pole members.

“As children, they were handled a lot. It’s nearly impossible to get toddlers through the snow when left on their own two feet.” Hakoda said. 

“Katara wore one of those wrap things when the kids were babies. Genius. I think I carried both of them all day sometimes.” Zuko said.

Katara snorted and everyone looked at her.

“One time, Zuko had Lu Ten in a sling during a financial meet and, in his sleep, decided to use his diaper.” She explained.

“Nothing is worse than potty training a child during the dark season in the South Pole when your bathroom is outside.” Hakoda interjected as the others were laughing.

“Paw-Paw, what was mommy like when she was my age?” Izumi asked.

The table quieted and Katara stared at her father.

“Well, I wasn’t around when your mother was five. I was fighting in the Earth Kingdom.” Hakoda said.

“You didn’t see her at all?” Izumi questioned with clear shock.

“Not for many years.” Hakoda said with a shake of his head.

“Sometimes I don’t get to see mommy for a few weeks when I live with daddy in the Fire Nation.” Izumi said softly. “It makes me sad.” 

“I was very sad when I couldn’t see my mom or my dad.” Katara said, putting her arms around Izumi and kissing her hair. 

“When I’m queen, I’m going to live here and I’ll be able to see Izumi every day.” Kya announced.

“What about me and mama?” Sokka asked.

“You can live here too if you want.” She conceded and Sokka scoffed in amusement. 

“Oh, why thank you.” He said and smiled over Kya’s head at Suki.

“I had hoped after the war, I’d be able to live with my entire family in one place.” Hakoda grumbled and Malina patted his hand. 

“Tell me about it.” Katara sighed. 

“Excuse me, your majesty?” A woman called from the doorway. Katara turned and waved the aide in.

“The Matriarch is waiting for you. And we just got confirmation that the ambassador has entered the city.” She said, angling a tablet down so Katara could see the verification. 

“Delightful.” Katara muttered. Then, speaking up, she tried to sound more cheerful. “Time to get dressed!”

More voices than she expected groaned in disappointment. 

The first meeting would be a quick, but formal, welcome. In the throne room, Katara had Hakoda and Dong-Lee take their seats first. Then, holding up the thick fabric of her skirt, she stepped up to the platform where her own carved monstrosity awaited her. Kya knelt on a cushion at her side, still on the platform above Hakoda and Dong-Lee. Politics were in everything.

The Ambassador was escorted in and he bowed in greeting.

“Ambassador Yi, welcome to our little oasis in Republic City.” Katara said.

Yi was a stout man, but younger than she expected. He was middle aged with a receding hairline, yet his face was fairly youthful. From his file, Katara knew he was married with three children, all a few years older than Izumi.

“Thank you, Queen Katara.” He said.

“You are here at the pleasure of Chief Hakoda, leader of the Southern Water Tribes, and Matriarch Dong-Lee of the Swamp Tribe.” Katara went on, gesturing with both hands to the other leaders. 

Yi bowed again.

“Thank you, Chief Hakoda and Matriarch Dong-Lee.” He said.

“And I would like to introduce you to my heir, Princess Kya.” Katara finished.

A third bow and Kya shifted uneasily.

“It is a pleasure to meet the princess.” Yi said.

“I know you have meetings with us separately, but did you have anything you would like to bring before the triumvirate?” Katara questioned.

“No, your majesty.” Yi answered.

“Then I give you your leave. I will see you at our appointed time.” Katara said. She stood and Yi bowed again, keeping his gaze lowered. The others stood and left, exiting behind the platform before Yi made his way back the way he entered. 

Such rituals made Katara feel stiff and irritated; she’d be taking her lunch with the man in a few hours while wearing pants. All of the preceding pageantry struck her as unnecessary. 

“He seems agreeable.” Dong-Lee said.

“Well, be careful, he’s from the Upper Ring. There’s been a lot of chatter about pruning the swamp.” Katara said.

Dong-Lee scoffed. “As if the swamp would let anyone do such a thing.” 

“Are all the meetings going to be like that Auntie?” Kya asked, tugging hard at the neckline of her dress.

“Not all of them, no. But enough of them to make you grumpy.” Katara said and Kya groaned loudly. 

“How does Izumi do it?” Kya whined.

“She’s a lot like her father I suppose. They were born into it.” Katara remarked lightly. Kya groaned again and Katara laughed. 

“I wish Thuy was here.” She muttered.

Katara only nodded.

Ambassador Yi met with Hakoda and Dong-Lee prior to lunch, talking about his goals for his appointment and the technical aspects of the placement. The lunch was far more casual, and Yi brought his family. Dong-Lee was attended by her brother and two children, while Malina came along with Hakoda. The rest of Katara’s royal family bustled in and the large table on the veranda was bursting with activity. 

Yi and his family were patient through the introductions, though Katara promptly forgot the names of everyone with him. Zuko had a better mind for names and she would have to ask him about it later. 

“Ambassador, I’d like to introduce my consort, Fire Lord Zuko.” Katara said, gesturing to Zuko. Yi and his family all gave a hasty Fire Nation salute while Zuko only smiled, holding Lu Ten at his hip. 

“Forgive me,” Yi’s wife said, sounding nervous. “But how should we refer to your Highness?” 

“Zuko is fine.” He replied and the blood drained from her face. 

Katara made a tsk sound and swatted his arm lightly. 

“Titles are very loosely held and wielded around here. We both prefer to be on a first name basis, but since we don’t have a family name, I understand it can be awkward.” She explained.

“I do think consort is rather fun.” Zuko said, smiling at Katara, who glowered back at him. 

“I was told the Earth Empire custom was a bit formal compared to the rest of the world.” Yi admitted.

“It was the same in the Fire Nation until very recently.” Zuko said. 

“I’d like us to be friends.” Katara said. “So I’d love it if you’d use our given names.” 

“That would make it easier to know when I’m in trouble.” Yi joked and Katara laughed. His wife looked mortified. 

Lu Ten started to fuss and Zuko started bouncing him.

“I think it’s nap time.” He said.

“Thank you.” Katara replied, offering her cheek as Zuko leaned in to kiss her. 

“Can we go eat mom?” Yi’s eldest son asked, tugging lightly on his mother’s sleeve.

“Please! This was meant to welcome you after all!” Katara said, shooing them away. Yi’s wife and children walked off, heading over to the serving tables.

“You have a lovely family.” Katara said.

“Thank you. Your’s is charming as well.” Yi said and rubbed his chin. “I hadn’t expected the Fire Lord to be so approachable.” 

“He’s a lot like his uncle.” Katara replied.

“Your son looks just like him.” 

“Oh yes.” Katara said with a laugh. “He’s a Firebender too.”

“But how lucky your daughter is just like you!” Yi said.

“Hmm?” Katara turned and faced Yi more purposefully. 

“I was glad you introduced her first, because my packet was incorrect. I thought her name was Izumi.” He said.

“Izumi is my daughter.” Katara said.

“My apologies. Is that her Fire Nation name?” Yi questioned.

“Yes.” Katara said slowly. “You misunderstand, Kya is my niece.” 

Yi’s eyes widened in surprise. 

“Then Izumi is not the Waterbender?” He asked.

“No, Izumi is a…” Katara frowned. “She’s not a Waterbender. Kya is my brother’s daughter. She recently came into her bending and now she’s my heir.” 

“So Izumi is…” Yi sounded panicked and confused.

“Fire Nation. Completely.” Katara said tersely. “She is her father’s heir.”

“I’m sorry. I am completely embarrassed.” Yi said in a hurry, bowing in apology. 

“I can understand the confusion. The inheritance law changed when I was crowned.” Katara said. 

“Thank you for your understanding, your Majesty.” Yi said.

“Of course. You should join your family, they seem to be waiting for you.” Katara said. Yi bowed again and walked to the table. Katara watched him for a moment before turning back toward the palace.

She saw Izumi’s face peeking from behind a wooden beam that supported the pergola. As their eyes met, Izumi darted back inside the palace. Katara sighed, a weight settling on her shoulders. 

Katara’s meeting with the new ambassador was awkward, but she merely questioned him about his goals. The Earth Empire was still gunning for drilling rights in the arctic, which simply wasn’t going to happen. They also wanted to expand their fishing and research waters, which also wasn’t going to happen. Those two points came up time and again, becoming chronic sores in Katara’s life. In the Poles at least, her people had learned how to live in harmony with the seas. They were also intimately aware of what happened when they tried to tip the balance in their favor. Seas could rise, ice could crack, and hungry things could see better than they in the night. 

After the business was concluded, Katara cancelled the debrief with Hakoda and Dong-Lee, pushing it back a day. 

She needed to talk to Zuko.

In their bedroom, Katara sat on the bed as Zuko undid his dress shirt. He never dressed down around politicians, despite his insistence on the given name thing. 

“Am I ashamed of our children?” Katara blurted as Zuko hung the shirt on the valet rack. He paused, his hands still on the hanger and slowly turned his head around to look at her.

“Excuse me?” He asked.

“Yi thought Kya was our daughter and I couldn’t just come out and correct him. It was so awkward!” Katara said.

“I don’t think that means you’re ashamed of her.” Zuko stated firmly. 

“Izumi heard me and she ran off.” Katara said.

“Did you talk to her?” 

“No.”

“We probably shouldn’t let that marinate.”

Katara groaned and bent over, holding her head in her hands.

“I am the worst parent.” She said.

“I think we can both agree that Ozai was the worst parent.” Zuko retorted.

Katara lifted her head, keeping her fingers splayed over her mouth.

“I’m serious.” She moaned and Zuko raised an eyebrow.

He brought both hands sharply up to his face, framing his scar.

“So am I.” He said. 

“I don’t even consider him a parent.” Katara said, falling backward onto the bed. “He’s a monster.”

“Fair point, yet he still is legally my father.” Zuko said.

“I think biologically too.” Katara added.

“Did you know Toph takes Lin and Suyin to her matches?” Zuko asked.

“What?” Katara asked, shooting her confused look up to the ceiling. 

“Lin caught a tooth before she even lost one of her own. It’s nuts.” Zuko said, sitting on the bed beside her.

“And?”

“And she adopted Jae-hwan, seemingly on a whim. No one knows who fathered Lin or Suyin, but Toph doesn’t care because they’d be Beifongs regardless.”

“I repeat, and?”

“And Toph is an amazing mother. Lots of people give her so much crap for simply being blind and having kids, let alone all this other stuff. None of us are perfect, but we’re doing our best. Our kids are great.” 

“I know that Zuko. But I don’t act like it.” Katara muttered, covering her face with her arms. 

“You’ve been really protective of Izumi about this bending stuff, but have you talked to her about it?” Zuko asked.

“No.” Katara said, her voice muffled. 

“I’m telling you, Izumi and Kya love each other. And Izumi is going to be Fire Lord, so it’s not like she’s getting shoved to the side.” Zuko said.

“So what about Lu Ten?” Katara asked.

“Who knows? The Fire Nation hasn’t had a good run with siblings, but Izumi and Lu Ten seem to be fine.” 

“Has there ever been a woman Fire Lord? Or a non-Bender?” 

“Well. No.” Zuko admitted. “But there’s never been a Prime Minister before either.”

“Obviously I don’t need to protect her, so why am I hiding her?”

“When Kya was born, you were so relieved. I thought it was because you were worried about Suki, but you were so anxious before Sokka texted. Then suddenly everything was easier and Izumi popped out two minutes later. I think Izumi was exactly what you wanted her to be.” Zuko explained.

“What do you mean?” Katara lowered her arms and looked up at him.

“She’s not named Kya, so you didn’t have to go through that. She looks like you when you haven’t been in the sun for awhile, and her hair is just like mine. I remember you talking about how much more manageable her hair was when it started to really grow in.

“And she’s not a Waterbender, so you didn’t have to put her through what you’re going through.” Zuko added softly. 

“But Kya’s going to be fine.” Katara said.

“Kya is going to have to live away from her parents more than you think. Sokka has a job in the Fire Nation now, remember? And Suki is still holding onto the flower shop for him.”

“I.” Katara cut off, not knowing what to say. 

“Sokka’s really anxious about this. He’s terrified of being away from Kya, because he hated being away from your parents.” Zuko said.

Tears welled in Katara’s eyes and she threw her arms over her face again.

“So not only am I a terrible mother, but I’m the worst sister and daughter too!” She wailed. 

“Katara, you know it’s not like that.” Zuko said, rubbing one of her arms.

“I hate that this happened. I hate how everyone makes these stupid choices without me and then I end up doing something terrible!”

“So it’s not your fault?”

“How is this my fault?”

“How is it anyone’s?”

Frustrated, Zuko stood up and walked back to their closet. 

“We talked about kids for years because we knew this was going to be hard. And Sokka and Suki could never have expected that their kid was going to be a Bender. And your dad didn’t go off thinking he’d never see his wife again, or that his children would grow up without him.” He said. 

Katara sat up, glaring at his back as Zuko picked out a new outfit. 

“So it’s me then? I’m the one making everything difficult?” She shot back.

“I didn’t say that.” Zuko replied.

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying this sucks!” Zuko turned around sharply, holding tight onto a t-shirt. “I hate being in Caldera without you for so long. And it’s pure misery when you have the children.”

He yanked on the shirt and rubbed his nose furiously.

“Honestly, sometimes I can’t wait for the children to be grown. Because then I can toss Izumi onto the throne and Kya can move in here and then you and I can finally be together, properly.” He laughed darkly and ran a hand through his hair. “But then I feel terrible because these are my children and I’m already missing out on so much.” 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have gotten married.” Katara muttered.

Zuko advanced on her quickly and grabbed her arms, squeezing her hard enough to scare her.

“Don’t you ever say that.” He said, his voice low. “I would rather have died in the Agni Kai than even think you mean that for a second.” 

“Zuko…” Katara protested and he shook her once, softly but with urgency.

“Tell me to step down. Ask me. Order me and I would crawl from the port to your throne to become your proper consort.” Zuko said. “But don’t you ever think things would be better had I not made you mine.” 

“Stop.” Katara said brusquely, using her forearms to break his hold. Zuko grabbed her wrists, holding them up.

“You gave me your bed, you gave me children. And they are forever a part of me. But you are mine. Just as I am yours.” Zuko kissed her, loosening his grip on her wrists. Katara grabbed his shirt, pulling him onto the bed. 

~

“Do you suppose that was a healthy and loving way to handle our fight?” Katara asked, shaking her hands off in the sink. It was easy enough to heal the minor marks and Zuko examined his chest in the mirror.

“I would definitely say it was loving.” He said and then nodded at his reflection. “But we should probably leave out some details if we bring this up at therapy.” 

“What are you so angry about anyway?” Katara asked.

“I am angry, dear wife, that you are in the throes of your righteous fury while I’m also struggling but I feel like I have to hold everything together.” Zuko said. 

He had an easy way of talking that made Katara relax. Had it been anyone else, she would have launched right into a fight.

“I’m sorry I’m not being more supportive.” Katara said and moved behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and pressing her cheek into his shoulder blade. 

“Like I said last night, I do understand that this is difficult for you. But I think you need to have a little faith and try letting go. Not everything has to be a battle that you win or lose.” Zuko held onto her arms and tilted his head back to bump hers. 

“Fine. So, as a wife first, what can I do?” Katara asked.

“Not much. Summer will be in a few weeks and you get to be Fire Lady again. I’ll be able to breathe once you and the children are in Caldera.” Zuko answered.

“Mom time then?” Katara said meekly.

“Mom and dad time. We’re a team.” Zuko replied.

They dressed and went to Izumi’s bedroom. Apparently, she had run there during lunch and refused to come out.

Zuko knocked on the door and called gently. “Mimi?” 

“Come in.” Izumi said, sounding despondent. 

Opening the door, Zuko and Katara hesitated before entering. Izumi was on the floor, moving her dolls around limply.

“Izumi, it is time. For.” Zuko paused with performative austerity. “The feelings wheel.” 

Izumi heaved a long sigh as she got up and shuffled to her small desk. Pulling open the center drawer, she pulled out a laminated piece of paper and went back to her spot on the floor. Zuko and Katara joined her, shutting the door behind them.

“Okay Mimi, you know the drill. How are you feeling?” Zuko asked as he and Katara sat down.

On the paper was a large circle cut into tiered segments. The wider wedges at the center of the circle were labelled with general emotions like “happy” and “scared.” Things got more specific in the thinner wedges radiating outward. 

Izumi pointed with a heavy finger to “sad.”

Zuko worked with Izumi through the process, getting her to be more specific about how she was feeling. Katara stayed quiet, watching her daughter’s face. She was surprised that Izumi identified “guilty” before ending on “ashamed.”

It wasn’t what Katara expected at all.

But she knew exactly how Izumi was feeling.

“Why do you feel ashamed sweetie?” Katara asked.

“Because I’m not Water Tribe.” Izumi said quietly. 

“Why do you think you’re not?” Zuko asked.

“Because mommy always says that I’m only Fire Nation. That I’m your heir and that’s it.” Izumi explained.

“Okay, that’s a valid reason.” Zuko said and Katara sighed.

“I say that because I know you’re part Tribal. I want everyone to know that you deserve to be your father’s heir regardless.” She said.

“Why would being Tribal be bad?” Izumi asked.

“Well…” Katara drifted, sharing a look with Zuko.

“During the war, the Fire Nation and the Water Tribe were enemies.” Zuko said honestly. “And a lot of people in the Fire Nation still feel angry about that.” 

“So they hate me?” Izumi asked, her voice quivering.

“Oh no sweetie! No one hates you!” Katara said in a rush. “It’s just, they may think being from the Water Tribe will make you a bad Fire Lord.” 

“Do you think I’ll be a bad Fire Lord?” Izumi asked Zuko.

“I think you’ll be the first good one.” He said. Izumi crawled onto Zuko, hugging him.

“You’re good, daddy.” She said.

Zuko hugged her back and kissed her hair. “I’m glad you think so, Mimi.” 

“Your father is a great Fire Lord, and you’ll be even better.” Katara added, patting Izumi’s back.

Izumi still clung to Zuko but looked over at Katara.

“So it’s okay that I don’t look like you or Paw-Paw?” She asked.

“Of course sweetie! And not all Water Tribals look like me. Some of them.” Katara stopped and took in a breath. “Some of them look like your Gran-Gran remember?” 

“And it’s okay that I’m not a Waterbender?” Izumi continued.

“Absolutely. Is it okay that Kya is?” Katara asked.

Izumi thought about it seriously for a moment and then nodded.

“Kya is going to rule the tribes and I’m going to be Fire Lord and then we’re going to take over the world.” She said and Katara sputtered.

“What was that?” She asked.

“Well Lu Ten has to have something and there are Waterbenders and Firebenders in the Earth Empire, so Kya and I are going to take it.” Izumi stated.

“You very much are not, young lady.” Zuko said, holding Izumi up to look at her. 

“But daddy, you said I could do anything.” Izumi replied simply. “And grandfather Ozai took over Omashu, my teacher told me so.” 

“Okay, we’re firing your teacher for one thing.” Zuko said and Katara gently pried their daughter from his hold. 

“Izumi, we’ll have to have a chat about why world domination is not a good thing, but do you feel better now?” She asked.

“Yes mommy. Can I have lunch?” Izumi asked. 

“Let’s go see what’s in the kitchen.” Katara stood up and held Izumi’s hand, pausing while Zuko stared off.

“Coming?” She prompted. Zuko shook himself and stood, looking curiously down at Izumi.

“Maybe we should hold off on introducing her to Azula.” He said.

Izumi lifted her head, her hazel eyes shifting in the overhead light. 

“I already know all about her. Auntie Ty Lee told me about her when we were on Avatar Island.” She said and then looked toward the door. Zuko, bewildered, caught Katara’s eye.

Auntie Ty Lee? He mouthed over Izumi’s head. Katara only shrugged.

She had her own family problems to deal with. 

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[quantumconfidence]

The Stigma Of The Trophy Wife & Why I'm Proud To Be One

Trophy wives and the never ending stigma... So much to say and so much to address. In this blog post as you read it in the title is all about why being a trophy wife (TW) is what I was meant to be. And most probably who you're meant to embrace too.

Keep reading Sister.

First of let me start with this mini clip...

This is all self explanatory to me and many other women who believe in hypergamy. The natural selection and order of things for women who desire to be married to a masculine man.

There's SO many negative cliche about being a trophy wife. The main one being a pretty air-head married to a rich old guy waiting to die so she can inherit all his assets and money.

And then you hear everyone around you saying things like: "why do you want to depend on a man? beauty doesn't last forever and some day he will replace you with someone hotter and younger"

But to me this is coming from such a small minded and scarcity point of view. These idea are filled with lack of everything.

There's SO, so, so much more than this about thinking of yourself as a TW!

Let's address a few of these points though because that is very important.

The "pretty air-head" Idea:

Who said that beautiful women were air-heads?

Just like everyone in this world, God has created each one of us, and you, with a special gift that NOBODY will ever provide like you do it. And that's a FACT.

I personally have worked for the largest and most successful companies in the world during my corporate career. As a people manager in technical supports, and I was VERY successful. These are definitely NOT the type of jobs or accomplishments an air-head would ever reach.

(If you're reading my blogs for the first time, Hello, My name is Mrs Queen and I'm the proud owner of this eCommerce business.)

And so, since when do we have to chose? I mean, hello scarcity mindset!

How being attractive, and maintaining your physical appearance ever kept you from being knowledgable and intelligent?

The "You'll always have to look pretty for him to stick around" Idea:

I cannot explain how this idea to me is SO basic, and SUCH a poor mindset!

Whom ever said that, clearly DOEN'T understand what makes a man marry you, when he truly believe that you're the woman of his dream. Or what makes a man stay with you for the rest of his life. So I'm going to spell it out loud, and preach. I hope you're ready?

First of all, a man stay kept if HE wants to stay kept. That has nothing to do with you but let's not ignore the following because these are contributing factors.

As a woman you're a WHOLE soul and PACKAGE by yourself. You do NOT ever or ever had to be with anybody to complete you. EVER. let me say it again, never, EVER.

And men DO understand that. They're looking and craving for that ENTIRE package. They want to experience it they want to live in it, forever and ever. This is literally their number one reason of living and striving in this world.

Yes, their MAIN reason to be alive. I'm not exaggerating.

What package am-i talking about?

Ok let's start with the obvious one:

1/ Your beauty. 

yes your face and body. And all appearances are appreciated in this world.

If you're thinking "high maintenance" and or "too exhausting" let me tell you the following very simply.

The way you care and take pride in your appearance has NOTHING to do with a man.

Never. EVER.

It has however EVERYTHING to do with how YOU, my sister, honor and love yourself. It's your way of respecting and glorify God's creation of you.

And if a man (your husband) gets to enjoy the perks too, that's his luck.

So don't allow laziness, or misconceptions to twist your mind. Taking care of yourself, and maintaining yourself is your godly duty as a woman. Let me say it again, it's self love and self respect.

Then,

2/ Your Feminine ENERGY. 

I'm literally talking about how your presence makes him feel. Have you ever had a phone conversation or just met someone and the tone of their voice, their smile gave you goose bumps and elevated your energy right away?

Making you smile, and feel warmer inside? That's what I'm talking about. Some people have the power to project their amazing energies into you and make you feel amazing in split-seconds. Everyone is of course different but the ones who love you, DO feel the energy of your soul.

And masculine men CRAVE for the feminine energy. The loving, the kind, the healing, the peaceful, resting, warm energy. They NEED you to be fully immersed into it, and let him join you into it.

They will do and pay anything to help you sustain and protect this beautiful environment. And it starts with the place you live in. Your body (back to point 1). Then your home. and the rest of your universe.

3/ Your RESPECT for him: This goes way deeper than the way you love him. Men will ALWAYS prefer being respected than being loved if they had to chose between the two. If you haven't read them, check out these books:

Love & Respect: The Love She Most Desires; The Respect He Desperately Needs

5 Love Languages

These are most definitely books that WILL drastically improve your relationship for the better. Feminism has us fooled with many ideas, and yes I'm fully aware that this movement gave the western woman many rights, and I'm not talking about this.

The movement also pushes women to violently disrespect men in MANY different ways, on a daily basis. Making you believe that it's a synonym of empowerment. It's not, it truly isn't. It's the number one key to ending your days living in an apartment with hundreds of cats.

4/ Your brain & your drive:

Masculine men do not want air-heads anyway. They want smart driven women who know how to balance all the things stated before and their lives.

A woman who can literally put all this shit together. HER shit together I should say to be more exact. DO not try to rule his life. That's HIS job. Not yours.

A masculine man wants to lead most of the times. LET him. If you believe and trust him, this won't be hard for you to do.

If not, and I mean if you deeply believe that your man cannot lead the way in your relationship, then you probably chose the wrong kind of man for you. It's never too late to find the right one.

Please note: These points ARE the WHOLE package and aren't in any particular order. One doesn't compensate for the others. ALL, meaning EACH one of them are part of the whole package that is you.

So what's a TW then?

It's in masculine men's nature to want to provide, it DOES NOT mean that you shouldn't have your own. As a matter of a fact it is crucial that you have your own AND let him provide.

One idea that I love the most in Islam, is that it is clearly stated that a man has to provide for his household and his wife's need. Only then a woman will submit to him and respect him fully. She can however have her own sources of income and decides if she wants to participate in the household spendings OR not.

Other religions have similar ideas too.

A TW is literally what ever you want to be. But most importantly she KNOWS how to be the most unique version of herself. And that IS ENOUGH.

But then what if you just do NOT want to work?

It took me a while to come up to a very simple realization. And that's because while growing up my mother always pushed me to "be independent". And to this day she still does.

I had to pounder very deeply on these things.

First of all, your value as a woman does NOT depend on what you can "bring to the table". It never was and never will.

Your value does NOT depend on how productive you can be. How much money you can earn, how much achievements you can reach. NONE. OF. THAT.

You are WELL worthy of being loved and taken care of, and just simply existing because you do. period.

Let me say it differently. You were born WORHTY. There's NOTHING that you have to do to be worthy. Your man, husband should know and appreciate that at it's right value.

You are NOT a financial burden. You ARE valuable, without having to do or achieve ANYTHING.

Your value is in you BEING you. Going back to the "whole package" idea.

Is this laziness?

I know these days if a woman doesn't want to work, she's labelled lazy. It's not. It's about understanding that the "whole package" is contribution in itself. It's HIGHLY valuable.

As I said, it's a man's reason for living, so he can experience that "package" with you.

But the scriptures say that you have to be a hard working woman at home or an active member of the society....

Yes. And you already are. Directly or indirectly. A woman who lives in her "whole package" vibe is an inspiration of everyone around her. That's her CONTRIBUTION to the world if she feels that it's enough. So it is. And there should be no room for shaming this.

And the ones shaming these women, are the ones who don't understand what I just wrote about.

The idea of "Keeping your independence"

I cannot believe how much I have been SO stubborn in grasping, holding on SO damn hard on my "independence"....

As mentioned growing up that's something my mom kept on repeating to me. That's because her marriage to my father was far from being exemplary. And I get her from those circumstances.

Let me remind you if you had a mom like mine, you are NOT your mom and your husband is NOT your father. Therefore your marriage and experience with it ARE NOT the same.

My simple question to you is: Why would you want to feel "independent"? How does being married truly makes you feel? Trapped in any ways?

I pondered so hard on this one. As a married woman I DO NOT want to be independent. I am married. Independence is the complete opposite of marriage.

Do you want independence still? Then be single! you'll have plenty of independence.

Marriage and being a wife truly requires from you to completely abandon your maiden self. That's only then that true union is ever possible. Marriage is two people coming as one. If you have found a husband that you love and loves you back, you won't need to feel independent.

We very often take love and relationship advice from women who are still wounded. My mom for example is currently single.

And the teaching she can ever pass on me are the ones of a woman who's been through three failed marriages. That's precisely why I do NOT take marriage advice related to "staying in a successful marriage" from her.

Who have you been listening to so far? Are they in the type of marriage that you aspire to be in? If not, then I invite you to reframe your way of thinking around what they taught you to believe.

The "he will go for someone younger" idea:

Ok, yes that happens, because some relationships aren't meant to last forever. But who says YOU won't do that before he does?? Or leaving him for a better option? Who will treat you better if your current one starts tripping? THAT right there is the TW mindset.

Because you know your value, and the value of being the "whole package".

Your aging DOES NOT diminish your worth or value. It does NOT. The way you perceive yourself is the ONLY factor that can have that effect ladies. Not a man. Not what your mom would say. Or what your "friends" who mean "well", or your community members will say.

NONE. OF. THAT.

It's you vs YOU.

So why wouldn't you feel proud to FULLY be your own FULL package anyway?

You can have it, so flaunt it for you, for God, and your (future) lucky hubby sister.

Popular Reads:

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[elderbloodlore]

Calanthe was not a racist homicidal tyrant: a useless and bitter rant of someone whose favourite character ever got mercilessly butchered.

WHY ARE YOU WRITING THIS? 

Well, let me give you a little bit of a backstory. I first read the Last Wish and the Sword of Destiny in 2012, when I was 14 years old. I instantly connected with the character of Calanthe, and after her death, it took me nearly a year to be able to pick up the saga itself. Ever since, she remained my favourite fictional character ever. As a little girl in misoginistic Poland, I was so lucky to have her as a role model. Because she fought for herself, she took no shit from anybody, she had love and respect of the people around her, and yet she had such tenderness and kindness about her that many strong woman-trope characters are missing these days, and that is exactly what happened to Calanthe when she was being translated to the screen. In 2015 The Wild Hunt was coming out and there were rumours of Ciri being included, so you can imagine my absolute glee and the hope I was filled with to have some more content with that one woman that meant so much to me growing up. And you can imagine my disappointment when all we got about her were a couple tiny mentions, even though the events of the Wild Hunt happen not even a decade after her death. Then the show by Netflix was announced and, once again, I had super high expectations. I wanted to see the wise, kind, beautiful Queen brought alive. December 2019 rolls in, and my hopes are being steamrolled. So here I am, 22 years old and crying over a fictional character, because one of the best written female characters ever (in my opinion) entered mainstream as a bullish, racist, homicidal tyrant. So let me address the biggest changes the show made to my beloved Calanthe Fiona Riannon, the Lioness of Cintra.

THE LOOKS 

That was obviously the first thing that threw me off. I was quite enthusiastic when the cast was announced, but then as the first promo pictures were released, my enthusiasm was slowly dying down. In the books, Calanthe’s looks are adressed very often: 

 “As before, the queen wore emeralds matching the green of her dress and her eyes. As before, a thin gold crown encircled her ash-gray hair.” Sword of Destiny. 

I tried to convince myself that Jodhi May won’t be a bad Calanthe so hard that I actually made this poor ass EDIT to feed my delusions and cheer myself up. In comparison, HERE is my personal favourite art of Calanthe that I find is the most accurate to the book portrayal. 

Even when the first trailer dropped I was still trying to convince myself that even though she has none of her Elder Blood features or her iconic emerald green, that she wore exclusively in the books, she couldn’t be that bad. Right? Wrong. 

THE DEMEANOR 

This is probably the biggest change. Calanthe was one of the wisest, most gracefully-written characters in the entire saga, and I really hoped to see that on screen. She was quick-witted, calculating, but at the same time caring enough to let her daughter choose her own destiny in the end (even if it was to be with a hedgehog-headed man twice her age). Her smiles were said to always be full of kindness, she was acting very proper and clearly cared about her image. I’m not going to be getting too much into it with my own words, let these examples speak for me:

'Ah, Geralt,' said Calanthe, with a gesture forbidding a servant from refilling her goblet. 'I speak and you remain silent. We're at a feast. We all want to enjoy ourselves. Amuse me. I'm starting to miss your pertinent remarks and perceptive comments. I'd also be pleased to hear a compliment or two, homage or assurance of your obedience. In whichever order you choose.' [...]  'Hochebuz,'  said Calante, looking at Geralt,  'my first battle. Although I fear rousing the indignation and contempt of such a proud witcher, I confess that we were fighting for money. Our enemy was burning villages which paid us levies and we, greedy for our tributes, challenged them on the field. A trivial reason, a trivial battle, a trivial three thousand corpses pecked to pieces by the crows. And look - instead of being ashamed I'm proud as a peacock that songs are sung about me. Even when sung to such awful music' Again she summoned her parody of a smile full of happiness and kindness, and answered the toast raised to her by lifting her own, empty, goblet. Geralt remained silent. The Last Wish.

'Aha,' said Calanthe quietly, clearly pleased. 'And what do you say, Geralt? The girl has taken after her mother. It's even a shame to waste her on that red-haired lout, Crach. The only hope is that the pup might grow into someone with Eist Tuirseach's class. It's the same blood, after all. Are you listening, Geralt? Cintra has to form an alliance with Skellige because the interest of the state demands it. My daughter has to marry the right person. Those are the results you must ensure me.' The Last Wish.

‘Very well then. As queen, I shall convene a council tomorrow. Cintra is not a tyranny. The council will decide whether a dead king's oath is to decide the fate of the successor to the throne. It will decide whether Pavetta and the throne of Cintra are to be given to a stranger, or to act according to the kingdom's interest.'  The Last Wish.

'Pavetta!' Calanthe repeated. 'Answer. Do you choose to leave with this creature?' Pavetta raised her head. 'Yes.' The Force filling the hall echoed her, rumbling hollowly in the arches of the vault. No one, absolutely no one, made the slightest sound. Calanthe very slowly, collapsed into her throne. Her face was completely expressionless. The Last Wish.

Guards, armed with guisarmes and lances, ran in from the entrance. Calanthe, upright and threatening, with an authoritative, abrupt gesture indicated Urcheon to them. Pavetta started to shout, Eist Tuirseach to curse. Everyone jumped up, not quite knowing what to do. ‘Kill him!' shouted the queen. The Last Wish.

CINTRA, RACISM AND MURDERING HER OWN PEOPLE 

In the books, Cintra was often mentioned to be obiding by the rules of the elves: 

‘Dear child,’ said Vesemir gravely, 'don’t let yourself get carried away by your emotions. You were brought up differently, you’ve seen children being brought up in another way. Ciri comes from the south where girls and boys are brought up in the same way, like the elves. She was put on a pony when she was five and when she was eight she was already riding out hunting. She was taught to use a bow, javelin and sword. A bruise is nothing new to Ciri—’ Blood of Elves.

There were many elves and dwarves living peacefully within its borders. Calanthe’s two names - Fiona and Riannon, come from her ancestors that are respectively a quarter and a half elf, and known to be that. Calanthe was the one who taught Ciri that non-humans are not dangerous:

‘I’m not afraid at all!’ Ciri suddenly cried, assuming her little devil face for a moment. ‘And I’m not parrotised! So you’d better watch your step! Nothing can happen to me here. Be sure! I’m not afraid. My grandmamma says that dryads aren’t evil, and my grandmamma is the wisest woman in the world! My grandmamma… My grandmamma says there should be more forests like this one…’ Sword of Destiny.

There was no actual reason nor basis for the showrunners to make her racist and make her murder elves. Having her walk into her own daughter’s birthday party, bathed in elven blood, while she knows that the same blood flows in her own veins, at least partially, was completely unnecessary. Even in the polish version of the show from 2001 Calanthe said: 

RELATIONSHIP WITH GERALT 

This probably hits me the most on personal level, because I feel like Calanthe had a huge impact on Geralt’s growth as a character, and with such a drastic change to their relationship, I’m unsure as to he will now proceed to develop. Calanthe was, in large, one of the first people in the books that treated Geralt as anything more than a mutant. Here are some of my favourite scenes between the two, in comparison with how their relationship was portrayed in the show:

"At times, no, for years at a time, I deluded myself that you might forget. Or that for other reasons you might be prevented from coming. No, I didn't want anything unfortunate to happen to you, but I had to take into consideration the dangerous nature of your profession. It is said that death follows in your footsteps, Geralt of Rivia, but that you never look behind you. Then... when Pavetta... You know already?" "I know," Geralt said, inclining his head. "My sincere condolences..." "No," she interrupted, "it was all long ago. I no longer wear mourning clothes, as you see. I wore them for long enough.” Sword of Destiny.

He slowly pushed the cup on the table so that the clink of silver on malachite would not betray the uncontrollable trembling of his arm. "You don't deny it?" "No." She bent to seize his hand with vigor. "You disappoint me," she said, giggling prettily. "This isn't voluntary," he responded, laughing as well. "How did you guess, Calanthe?" "I did not guess." She did not release his hand. "I said it at random, that's all." They broke out in laughter. Sword of Destiny.

"I will not take it. It is too great a responsibility, one that I refuse to assume. I would not want for this child to speak about you the way... the way I..." "You hate this woman, Geralt?" "My mother? No, Calanthe. I doubt that she was given a choice... or perhaps she had no say? No, she had, you know, enough formulas and elixirs... Choice. There is a sacred and incontestable choice of every woman that must be respected. Emotions are of no importance here. She had the indisputable right to make such a choice. That's what she did. But I think about meeting her, the expression on her face then... it gives me a sort of perverse pleasure, if you understand what I mean." Sword of Destiny.

A rosebush grew next to the gazebo. Geralt plucked a flower, breaking its stem and then knelt, his head bowed, presenting the flower in his hands. "I regret that I did not meet you sooner, white-haired one," she said, accepting the offered rose. "Rise." He rose. "If you change your mind," she went on, sniffing the flower, "if you decide... Return to Cintra. I will wait for you. Your destiny will be waiting for you, as well. Perhaps not advitam aeternam, but for some time, no doubt." "Farewell, Calanthe." "Farewell, witcher. Look after yourself. I... I sometimes feel... in a strange way... that I am seeing you for the last time." "Farewell, my queen." Sword of Destiny.

FALL OF CINTRA AND CALANTHE’S DEATH 

We were robbed of so many epic scenes that truly took away from Calanthe’s millitary accomplishments and showed none of the strength and determination she originally had: 

"The Nilfgaardians dealt the first blow," he began after a moment of silence. "There were thousands. They met with the armies of Cintra in the Marnadal valley. The battle lasted all day: from dawn to dusk. Cintra's troops valiantly resisted before being decimated. The king died, and that's when the queen..." "Calanthe." "Yes. Seeing that her army had succumbed to panic and scattered, she gathered around herself and her standard any who could still fight and formed a line of defense that reached the river, next to the city. All the soldiers who were still able followed." "And Calanthe?" "With a handful of knights, she covered the troops' crossing and defended the rear. They say she fought like a man, plunging into the thick of the battle. She was impaled by pikes when she charged against the Nilfgaardian infantry. She was then evacuated to the city. What's in that flask, Geralt?" "Vodka. Want some?" "Well then, gladly." "Speak. Continue, Dandelion. Tell me everything." "The city wasn't properly defended. There was no headquarters. The defensive walls were empty. The rest of the knights and their families, the princes and the queen, barricaded themselves in the castle. The Nilfgaardians then took the castle after their sorcerers reduced the gate to cinders and burned down the walls. Only the tower, apparently protected by magic, resisted the spells of the Nilfgaardian sorcerers. Even so, the attackers penetrated inside four days later without making camp. The women had killed the children, the boys and girls, and fell upon their own swords or... What's is it, Geralt?" "Continue, Dandelion." "Or... like Calanthe... head first, from the battlement, the very top... It's said that she asked to be... but no-one would agree. So she climbed up to the crenelations and... jumped head first. They say they did horrible things to the corpse afterward. I don't want... What is it?” Sword of Destiny.

I understand that this happened because of limited screen time, probably, but the whole Fall of Cintra had been squeezed into what seemed to be a single day, a crushing defeat for Calanthe’s forces, and probably in some way, punishment for her pride. 

AFTER CALANTHE’S DEATH 

While reading the rest of the saga, these little snipits of people talking about Calanthe, mentioning her, often with respect and reverence, mentioning how her people mourned her and swore revange for her, truly kept me going through. I wished that, at the end, Ciri would find it in herself to return home and liberate it, as back then I had no way to spoil myself the ending. In the books, you can really feel the outrage almost all of Continent feels after the murder of Calanthe: 

[...] Cintra is a symbol. Remember Sodden! If it were not for the massacre of that town and Calanthe's martyrdom, there would not have been such a victory then. The forces were equal — no one counted on our crushing them like that. But our armies threw themselves at their throats like wolves, like rabid dogs, to avenge the Lioness of Cintra. Blood of Elves.

[...] Bear in mind that these men left their homes and families, and fled to Sodden and Brugge, and to Temeria, because they wanted to fight for Cintra, for Calanthe’s blood. They wanted to liberate their country, to drive the invader from Cintra, so that Calanthe’s descendant would regain the throne. Baptism of Fire.

In the show, there is none of that. In fact, people seem to be full of disdain and hatred for her, saying things such as: 

which, in turn, fills me with dread for the upcoming seasons, because I can already feel all the further butchery coming my beloved Queen’s way.

IN CONCLUSION

In all honestly, there is very little the Calanthe from the show has in common with the one from the books, the one I originally fell in love with. Which is not to say that Netflix’s Calanthe is not a great character in her own right, because who doesn’t love a badass sword-wielding Queen, but as a portrayal of the greatest ruler within the Witcher universe, and one of, in my opinion, best written female rules in literature, she falls flat, and that’s what pushed me to write this useless and slightly bitter rant, in hopes to maybe interest more people in the original version of Calanthe and maybe, just maybe, prompt some of you to read the saga or, at the very least, the short stories. 

[thebibliomancer]

Archaia’s Jim Henson’s The Dark Crystal Age of Resistance #12

The Journey into the Mondo Levidian Part 4

In this installment, they do not journey into the Mondo Levidian at all. Maybe this should have been titled Into the Guts and Back Again: A Gelfling’s Tale.

In part one, newly All-Maudra’d Mayrin deals with a Sifan separatist crisis but also plenty of unresolved mother-induced insecurity issues. She charters a ride with Captain Kam’Lu to speak to the separatist leader Fenth but a sea monster sinks the ship.

In part two, Mayrin and Kam’Lu are adrift at sea on a raft following the sinking but then they get eaten by a sea monster. The two meet the monster gut dwelling Boblings and learn that they have a limited time before the Mondo Levidian returns to the deeps and then there’ll be no escape for a trine. With the Bobling King’s daughter Gunda, the two set off on a journey out of the Mondo Levidian.

In part three, Mayrin, Kam’Lu, and Gunda set off on a journey to the Mondo Levidian’s porticol and fight a lot of Zoa. Mayrin and Kam’Lu become friends on the basis of name-shortening. And Mayrin flies Kam’Lu out of the closing porticol to save him from Zoa and prove her mom wrong.

So they’re out of the giant fish so what more is left of the story at this point? The answer is beneath the keep reading.

So let’s get started!

Dot arrives on SkekSa’s totally sweet monster/ship which she is very proud of.

SkekSa: “Greetings and welcome to the greatest behemoth in the Silver Sea, Ambassador Dot’leth! You’re aboard an unstoppable ship built with Skeksis ingenuity. Does our mastery of nature itself make you tremble in awe?”

Dot: “I assume you mean the second greatest behemoth in the Silver Sea, considering the attack on the Sifan ship that cost the lives of All-Maudra Mayrin and Captain Kam’Lu --”

SkekSa: “Well, yes, that was reported... but the captain of this ship has yet to find any proof of the alleged creature that destroyed the Sifan ship.”

Now, at first blush, this seems like SkekSa slipping up and accidentally admitting culpability like Prince Humperdinck in Princess Bride and his fastest ships.

But when the Mondo Levidian emerges from underwater, SkekSa goes from ‘what the heck’ to ‘i WANT that.’

SkekSa: “Second-greatest behemoth in the sea... bah! What does that ignorant old Vapran know about the sea! The only monsters here are --”

Mondo Levidian: -emerges-

SkekSa: “Oh. What other secrets are hiding in this infernal world...?”

And

SkekSa: “It’s been many trine since SkekSa discovered such a wonder -- and a majestic creature such as this deserves a naming ceremony! Vassa... You will be mine! The Mariner sails only the greatest creature -- er, ship -- in all of Thra!”

I had been assuming that the Mondo Levidian attack was a conspiracy by SkekSa to seize power for her preferred Gelfling clan. But it seems like it was just crazy random happenstance that she and Fenth got opportunistic over.

Also, holy crap, Dot has a full name?

And Fenth and Dot are implied to have History, being a little awkward around each other.

Over on top of the sea monster, Mayrin and Kam’Lu discover that the Zoa (led by the Zoa wearing clothes. The Necrozoa?) are following them up and out of the porticol. Mayrin and Kam’Lu have to take to the air again to try to escape to SkekSa’s ship.

Watching all of this happen, SkekSa settles on ‘bored of this.’

SkekSa: “New plan. SkekSa doesnt’ care anymore about your Gelfling squabbles.”

Fenth: “But...! But....! You said I could have power! We had a deal!”

SkekSa: “And SkekSa is bored of politics. I want that creature. I will be unstoppable, and all of Thra will be mine to explore! Entire lands waiting to be named -- named after me!”

I kind of like that SkekSa’s priorities are 1) Giant monsters, 2) Naming a lot of shit after herself, 3) The Sifan, I guessss. 2.5) is probably ‘ugh Skeksis politics uuugh.’

Mayrin manages to lead most of the Zoa swarm in front of the Mondo Levidian which jumps up and eats them.

She lands on the deck of SkekSa’s ship and has a moment with Kam’Lu.

This very good friendship has just become a kissing relationship.

It has been a hell of an enemies to lovers for them, huh?

The remaining Zoa and the Zoa-in-clothes, identified as being a queen Zoa? land on SkekSa’s dreadnought and Mayrin declares that the Zoa stand before a United Thra “Vapran courage and Sifan honor!” and for the Zoa to turn back or be destroyed.

Then there’s a massive Zoa vs Gelfling fight scene with SkekSa yelling for them to get off her ship.

I adore her.

Fenth gets upset that Mayrin is uniting the Sifa and Vapra and decides ‘hey, all kinds of things can happen in the heat of combat’ and throws an entire ass sword at Mayrin’s back.

But Kam’Lu blocks the attack with the goo shield (which he evidently kept). And its a bit of a broken pedestal moment considering Kam’Lu’s personality in issue one was ‘hey did you hear this cool stuff Fenth is saying??’

Kam’Lu: “Vile traitor! I trusted you! I believed in your lies and your wisdom! I thought you would lead us to something better... But you are the poison to all Gelfling-kind -- a poison I can no longer willingly imbibe!”

Good for you, Kam’Lu.

The war against the bugs ends when Mayrin stabs the queen Zoa in the eye and yells a defiant speech to her.

Mayrin: Queen, I am not one for violence -- But I will resort to it if I must! I will do whatever is necessary to save my kind -- just like you. We are the same! Please! Turn away! Turn away and end this needless bloodshed!”

And the queen Zoa does.

Whether actually moved or cowed by Mayrin’s speech or because she’s smart enough not to go in for sunk cost, the queen and the remaining Zoa take off.

Good job, Mayrin.

Although, it is funny that you tried to sue for peace when you earlier described the queen Zoa as “a monster filled with blind hate, resentment, and beastly rage. Something born in the pit of despair and darkness... Something that knows only hunger and power.”

But it won’t be the first time that Gelfling were way off in regards to the Arathim slash offshoots, nor the last.

Still, it feels right that the final boss of Mayrin’s plot was a giant monster queen wearing her mother’s clothes that she fends off by confidently telling to buzz off.

Fenth tries to blame the whole situation on Mayrin for leading the bugs to the ship, which is technically true. But Kam’Lu has become Mayrin’s biggest supporter because the boy believes with all his heart.

Kam’Lu: “You’re wrong! Mayrin is here because she had to save us at all costs! She is here because she is fighting to keep the seven clans together! She has been through a bizarre adventure, struggling through the stomach of monsters unknown!”

“I was just like Fenth -- I distrusted Mayrin because she was a Vapran. But Mayrin has saved my life too many times to count. She proved her strength in the toothrakes! She outwitted the horrifying King Bobling! She fought bravely and earned the respect of the greatest warrior of Bajula! She is what the Sifa clan needs. What all Gelfling need! In the darkness of the Mondo Leviadin, Mayrin led the way. I believe in her.”

“LONG LIVE ALL-MAUDRA MAYRIN!”

“And I swear, from this day to my last, when my body is taken by Thra, that I will fight for her -- by her side. As her friend... Her captain... Her...”

And then he trails off there because Mayrin holds his hand and the poor boy only has so much processing power.

Also, he kinda embellished Mayrin’s accomplishments by saying she outwitted the “horrifying” Bobling King. That guy was a kitten.

The Sifan Maudra is intrigued by all this love biz and asks Mayrin what she would do if the Sifans do decide to leave the clans.

Mayrin: “If we are to separate, then the seas will weep for the lonely Sifa clan. The mountains of Ha’rar will shake in the bitter Vapran gales. We must be the shining light of Thra -- together!”

“We are the living monuments of everything that touches us, be it the good and warm that gives us hope... or the malice and greed that drives us down darker paths. And... I wear my mother’s colors. I know it. I feel it -- I accept it. But I am not my mother.”

“I promise that I will bleed for you! I will fight for you! I will break my body in half to ensure that you have yours! To sail the sea as you see fit! So please, give me the chance to prove it to you! Give me the chance to fail and to succeed! if you do... Perhaps we may all grow old together -- knowing what unity is meant to be... knowing what love is --”

WOO!

Fenth is less than thrilled. Not just for his thwarted ambitions but because SkekSa has thoroughly gotten sick of him and is probably annoyed that she had to sit through all these speeches without even getting a giant sea monster.

She grabs him and drags him away through the crowd while everyone is distracted being jubilant.

SkekSa: “Take a long look at the Silver Sea, Fenth -- It will be many trine before you witness it again... Skeksis friend SkekTek the Scientist has plans for Gelfling who fail!”

Huh. Wonder what that means. This is way too soon for draining to be on the table.

Later, WEDDING TIME!

On the cliff above Raunip’s pass, the Sifan and Vapran come together for the wedding of Mayrin and Kam’Lu.

Dot assumes that Mayrin chose the venue so she can fly Raunip’s Pass with the power of love but Mayrin chose the venue so she can deliberately not do that because she’s done following her mom’s path.

Mayrin: “You have taught me the most important thing, Kam’Lu -- that I am the only one responsible for the path I fly. That we must all chart our own path -- and that we cannot do that when the dense cloud of grief fogs our vision. And that to be my best self -- no matter who it is that I am -- I must be myself. Faults and failures and scars and all. Understanding that acceptance is not the same as failure. We must think of the future of our kind.”

Its also implied that Mayrin is already pregnant as she declares that she’ll name her firstborn Seladon, after Mayrin’s mother.

... It is incredibly ironic. Mayrin declares that she’s going to set her own path and then chooses her mother’s name for her daughter. The daughter that she’s going to repeat a lot of Seladon I’s parenting mistakes with, giving Seladon II a whopping case of insecurity and unfortunately no character building adventure with a hunky sea captain.

Hm. I wonder what happens with Kam’Lu. That whole family situation probably would have been less of a timebomb with him around. Alas, the sea is a harsh mistress. Full of fish and salt.

So, the last arc of Archaia’s Jim Henson’s Dark Crystal Age of Resistance comics. I still have two of the YA novels to read but with the cancellation of the show, who can say when there will be more comics.

But the comic ends strong. We visit another parent when they’re young and get to see more wild Thra life. We get to see SkekSa! She’s a delight. We get to see another side of the Sifan than the brief appearances in the show.

Thanks for the good times, Archaia’s Jim Henson’s The Dark Crystal Age of Resistance comic.

[sisterofiris]

Everyday life in the Hittite empire

Have you ever wondered what your life would have been like if you had been born in central Anatolia 3500 years ago? No? Now that I’ve brought it up, are you curious to find out?

Well you’re in luck, because that’s just what this post is about. So sit back, close your eyes, and imagine yourself in Anatolia - that is, modern Turkey. Are you ready? Can you see the mountains, the red river and the towering buildings of your capital, Ḫattuša? Can you hear the chariots driving up the road? Can you feel the electric brewing of a storm in the distance?

Then let’s go.

(With a brief disclaimer: while I study Hittitology, this is not intended as an academic-level post. It was written to give general, approachable insights into Hittite culture and can be used as writing inspiration or to titillate curious history nerds around you, but if you’re writing an academic paper on the subject, I would recommend you check out the bibliography instead.)

About you

First things first, are you older than five? If so, congratulations on being alive. Child mortality in this place and time is very high, so you’re one of the luckier ones among your siblings. You probably have at least a couple of those; you may even have as many as six or seven, especially if you come from a well-to-do family with access to good healthcare. When you were little, your parents might have told you the tale of Zalpa, in which the queen of Neša gives birth to thirty sons then thirty daughters who marry each other, but you know this only happens in the stories - not to normal people.

When you were born, your parents rejoiced regardless of your sex, as sons and daughters are equally valued in your society (albeit for different reasons). Your father took you on his knee and gave you a good Hittite name: maybe Armawiya, Ḫarapšili, Kilušḫepa or Šiwanaḫšušar for a girl, or Anuwanza, Kantuzili, Muwaziti or Tarḫuzalma for a boy. Gender-neutral names, such as Anna, Muwa and Šummiri, would also have been an option. Many people around you have Hurrian or Luwian names, even if they are not ethnically Hurrian or Luwian themselves. (This is comparable to the modern popularity of Hispanic names like Diego, or French names like Isabelle.)

It’s hard to say what you would have done during childhood. While your earliest years would have been spent playing and babbling in grammatically incorrect Hittite, by the age of six or seven you may well have already started training in the family profession. If a girl, you would have been taught to weave by your mother; if a boy, you might have helped your father out on the farm, tried your hand at making pottery, or spent long hours learning cuneiform. (There may have been careers requiring gender non-conformity, as there was in Mesopotamia, but as far as I am aware this has not been proven.) You know that even the noblest children are given responsibilities - king Ḫattušili himself was once a stable boy.

Now, as an adult, you are a working professional contributing directly to Hittite society. You look the very portrait of a Hittite: as a woman, you have long, dark hair that you probably keep veiled, and as a man, your hair is around shoulder-length and your face clean-shaven. Ethnically, though, you are likely a mixture of Hittite, Luwian, Hurrian, Hattian, and depending on when and where exactly you live, maybe Assyrian, Canaanite or even Greek. There’s a fair chance Hittite might not actually be your native language. Still, you consider yourself a Hittite, and a subject of the Hittite king.

Well, now you know who you are, let’s get along with your day!

Your home and environment

Your day begins the way most people’s days do: you wake up at home, in your bed. As an average Hittite, you probably sleep on the floor rather than on elevated furniture. Your floor is either paved or of beaten earth, and your house itself has stone foundations and mud brick walls, with a flat roof supported by timber beams. Windows are scarce and small, to keep the indoor temperature stable.

Outside, the rest of the settlement is waking up too. Statistically, you live in a village or small town, surrounded by forest and mountains. Summers here are hot and dry, and winters cold and snowy, with spring and autumn being marked by thunderstorms. Most inhabitants work as farmers, relying on the weather for their survival. Contagious illnesses are a constant threat - under king Muršili II, the land suffered a deadly plague for twenty years - as are enemy invasions. If you live within the bend of the red river, in the Hittite heartland, consider yourself lucky; if not, your settlement could well be shifting from one kingdom’s property to another and falling prey to both sides’ raids on a yearly basis.

Admitting no enemy forces are in the area today, you take your time to get up. You might tiredly stumble to the outhouse to go pee. Eventually, you’ll want to get dressed.

Clothing

As a man, your clothes comprise of a kilt or sleeved tunic, with a belt of cloth or leather. As a woman, you wear a long dress and, if you are married, a veil. All clothing is made from wool or linen, and a variety of dyes exist: red, yellow, blue, green, black and white are all colours mentioned in texts. If you are rich enough, you may be able to import purple-dyed fabric from Lazpa (Greek Lesbos) or the Levant. You will also want to flaunt your wealth with jewellery, regardless of gender.

Of course, your shoes have upturned ends in the Hittite style. Historians will tease you for this. Don’t listen to them. You look awesome.

Mealtime!

It’s now time for one of your two daily meals (the other will take place in the evening, after your work for the day is done). This will be prepared at the hearth, a vital element of every home, and which is likely connected to an oven. The staple of your diet is bread; in fact, it is so common that “bread”, in cuneiform texts, is used as a general term for food. It is usually made from wheat or barley, but can also be made from beans or lentils.

Worried you’ll get bored of it? You needn’t be: your society has enough types of bread that you could eat a different one each day for a whole season. Fig bread, sour bread, flat bread and honey bread are just some of your options, along with spear bread and moon bread... yes, in other words, baguettes and croissants. (Something tells me the Hittites and the French would have a lot to talk about.)

You also have various fruits and vegetables available: cucumber, leek, carrots, peas, chickpeas, lentils, beans, olives, figs, dates, grapes, pomegranates, onions, garlic, and more. Your diet is completed by animal products, including cheese, milk, butter, and meat, mainly from sheep and goats but also cows and wild game. Honey, too, is common.

These ingredients can be combined into all sorts of dishes. Porridge is popular, as are stews, both vegetarian and meat-based. Meat can also be broiled and quite possibly skewered onto kebabs. And of course, food would be boring without spices, so you have a variety of those to choose from too: coriander are cumin are just two of them.

As for drinks, you can have beer, wine, beer-wine (good luck figuring out what that is), milk or water. If you’re well-to-do enough, you may own a rhyton, a drinking vessel shaped like an animal such as a stag or bull. Don’t forget to libate to the Gods before drinking your share.

Daily work

The next thing on your plate, after food, is work. What you do depends on your social status and gender, and most likely, you do the same work as your parents did before you. You could be something well-known like a king, priest, scribe, merchant, farmer or slave, but don’t assume those are all the possibilities; you could also be, for example, a gardener, doctor, ritual practitioner, potter, weaver, tavern keeper, or perfume maker.

It’s impossible to go into detail on every career option you would have in Hittite society, so for the sake of brevity, let’s just discuss four - two male-dominated, and two female-specific.

Farmer

As a farmer, you are the backbone of your society. You and your peers are responsible for putting food on the plates of Hittites everywhere, thus ensuring the survival of the empire.

Like many farmers, you live on a small estate, most likely with both crops (or an orchard) and livestock to take care of. You may own cows, sheep, goats, pigs, horses, donkeys, and/or ducks. Your daily routine and tools aren’t that different from other pre-industrial cultures, though you have it a little rougher than most due to the Anatolian mountain terrain. If you have the means, you hire seasonal workers - both male and female - to help out as farmhands, and you may own a few slaves.

You get up early to milk the cows, and at the onset of summer, you or a hired herdsman may lead your livestock up to mountain pastures to graze. Depending on the season and the work that needs to be done, you may spend your day ploughing the fields, harvesting grain or fruit, tending livestock, shearing sheep, birthing a calf, repairing the barn, or various other tasks. Make sure to take proper care of everything: new animals are expensive, and losing one could get you into a precarious situation. In particular, you’ll want to keep an eye out for bears, wolves, foxes, and even lions and leopards.

Scribe

Few people are literate in Hittite society, and you are one of the lucky ones. You have been learning to read and write in three languages (Sumerian, Akkadian and Hittite) since childhood, and after long years of copying lexical lists and ancient myths, your education is now complete.

As a scribe, you are the dreaded bureaucrat. In a small town, you likely work alongside the town administrator, recording tax collections and enemy sightings as well as corresponding with other towns, and with the capital. You and your peers are the go-to people for officialising marriage agreements and divorces, drawing up work contracts, and creating sales receipts. If not in the town administration, you could also work in a temple, recording the results of oracles, cross-checking the correct procedures for a ritual, and making sure everything necessary for a festival is available. If you are particularly lucky, you may be employed by the nobility or even the palace, and be entrusted with such confidential tasks as writing the king’s annals or drafting an international treaty.

Regardless of where you are, two things are essential to your job: a stylus and a tablet. You may be a “scribe of the clay tablets”, in which case you will need to carry around a bit of clay wherever you go (and some water to moisten it). Otherwise, you are a “scribe of the wooden tablets”, in which case you use a wax tablet in a wooden frame, which requires less maintenance. It’s unclear whether these types of tablet are used for different purposes.

Fun fact: you likely have a few pen pals around the Hittite empire. After corresponding with other scribes for so long, you’ve started writing each other messages at the bottom of your tablets, asking each other how you’re doing and to say hi to each other’s families. Your employers needn’t know.

Weaver

Weaving, to a Hittite like you, is the quintessential female activity, along with textile-making in general. Like farming, this is a backbone of your society: without weaving, there would be no clothes, and without clothes, well, you can’t do much.

As a weaver, you produce textiles for your family and in many cases also for sale. You work in an atelier within your home, along with the other women of the household, keeping an eye on your smallest children as they play nearby. While your husband, brothers or sons may transport and sell your handiwork, you are the head of your own business.

You are skilled in multiple weaving techniques, and can do embroidery and sew fabric into various shapes (including sleeves - take that, Classical Greeks). You create clothing for all sorts of occasions, including rituals and festivals, outdoor work, and winter weather, and if you are lucky enough to be commissioned by the nobility, you put your best efforts into clothing that will show off their status. Don’t try to cheat anyone out of their money, though; prices are fixed by law.

Old Woman

Contrary to what you might expect, you don’t need to be old to be an Old Woman - this is a career just like any other, though it probably does require a certain amount of life experience and earned respect. As an Old Woman, you are a trained ritual practitioner and active in all sorts of cultic, divinatory and magical ceremonies.

Most commonly, you are hired for rituals protecting against or removing evil. Your services may solve domestic quarrels, cure a sick child, or shield someone from sorcery (a constant threat in your society). This is done through symbolic acts like cutting pieces of string, breaking objects, and sacrificing and burning animals, which are of course accompanied by incantations - sometimes in Hittite, sometimes in other languages, like Hurrian.

Far from a village witch, you are high-placed in Hittite society and trusted by the royal family itself. You have taken part in major rituals and festivals, including funerals, and you perform divinatory oracles too. This last responsibility gives you a large amount of influence over the king and queen; if you establish that something should be done, then it almost certainly will be. Use this power well... or not.

Your loved ones

After a long day ploughing fields, writing tablets, weaving clothes or reciting incantations, it’s finally time to reunite with your loved ones. For adults, these likely - but not necessarily! - include a spouse and children. You may just live with your nuclear family, but living with extended family is also common, and there may be as many as twenty people in your household. Siblings, aunts and uncles, parents, grandparents, children and babies all share the evening meal with you, and some nights, you might gather afterwards to sing and dance, tell stories, and play games.

You also have relationships outside of home. Friendship is valued by Hittite society, with close friends calling each other “brother” and sister”. You might meet up with them regularly at the local tavern for a beer and a bit of fun. Someone there might even catch your eye... Interestingly, there are no laws against that person being of the same gender as you. So, same or different gender, why not try your luck tonight?

Greater powers

It’s impossible to spend a day in the Hittite empire without encountering religion. The Land of a Thousand Gods is aptly named: Gods are in everything, from the sun to the mountains to the stream at the back of your house to fire to a chair. You should always be conscious of their power, and treat them with respect. Though there are few traces of it, you may have a household shrine where you make libations or offer a portion of your meal. Your Gods may be represented by anthropomorphic statues, by animals such as a bull, by symbols such as gold disks, or even by a stone. Either way, treat these objects well; the divine is literally present in them.

You should also be wary of sorcery. Never make clay figures of someone, or kill a snake while speaking someone’s name, or you will face the death penalty. Likewise, always dispose of impurities carefully, especially those left over from a purification ritual (such as mud, ashes, or body hair). Never toss them onto someone else’s property. Has misfortune suddenly struck your household? Is your family or livestock getting sick and dying? These are signs that someone has bewitched you.

Some days are more sacred than others. You participate in over a hundred festivals every year, some lasting less than a day, some lasting a month, some local, some celebrated by the entire Hittite empire. The most important of these are the crocus festival and the purulli festival in spring, the festival of haste in autumn, and the gate-house festival, possibly also in autumn. The statues of the Gods are brought out of the temples, great feasts are held, and entertainment is provided through music, dance and sports contests. Depending on how important your town is, the king, queen or a prince might even be in attendance. All this excitement is a nice break from your regular work!

Sleep and dreams

Phew, what a busy day it’s been. The sun, snared in the trees’ branches, has set on the Hittite land, and you are ready for bed. Time to wrap yourself snugly in blankets and go to sleep.

You may dream, in which case, try to remember as much as you can. Dreams can be a vehicle for omens. Maybe, if the Gods are kind, you might catch a glimpse of what the next days, months and years hold in store for you.

Good night!

Bibliography

Beckman, Gary, “Birth and Motherhood among the Hittites”, in Budin, Stephanie Lynn, Macintosh Turfa, Jean, Women in Antiquity: Real Women across the Ancient World, Abingdon 2016 (pp. 319-328).

Bryce, Trevor, Life and Society in the Hittite World, Oxford 2002.

Bryce, Trevor, “The Role and Status of Women in Hittite Society”, in Budin, Stephanie Lynn, Macintosh Turfa, Jean, Women in Antiquity: Real Women across the Ancient World, Abingdon 2016 (pp. 303-318).

Golec-Islam, Joanna, The Food of Gods and Humans in the Hittite World, BA thesis, Warszawa 2016.

Hoffner, Harry A., “Birth and name-giving in Hittite texts”, Journal of Near Eastern Studies 27/3 (1968), pp. 198-203.

Hoffner, Harry A., “Daily life among the Hittites”, in Averbeck, Richard E., Chavalas, Marc W., Weisberg, David B., Life and Culture in the Ancient Near East, Bethesda 2003 (pp. 95-118).

Marcuson, Hannah, “Word of the Old Woman”: Studies in Female Ritual Practice in Hittite Anatolia, PhD thesis, Chicago 2016.

Wilhelm, Gernot, “Demographic Data from Hittite Land Donation Tablets”, in Pecchioli Daddi, Franca, Torri, Giulia, Corti, Carlo, Central-North Anatolia in the Hittite Period: New Perspectives in Light of Recent Research, Roma 2009 (pp. 223-233).

[amandlas]

almost gone (in these little moments get your cards out)

tfota | jude x cardan, she doesn’t come back au, no smut, hurtful and punishable tbh (ao3)

entry to jurdan week 2020 by @jurdannet - day 7: wild card! a what-if au had jude tried to make a new life in maine (don’t worry, cardan shows up). heaps of angst. little payout. sorry in advance. trigger warnings: violence, guns, shooting, and death mention.

[canon divergence from twk ending. title from “lay your cards out” by poliça]

*

gone. she’s gone. avulsed from her land, never hers, and her lover, never loved. the mortal world welcomes her with wide arms, arms that are shorter than she remembers, a little less homely, much less magical. after all, how can the ordinariness of television, powder tea, and surround sound compare to the true magic of faerieland?

vivi says it will be well. of course she does. why wouldn’t she, with her strong blood and pointed ears.

jude stares and stares at the tv. at the window. at the door. she’s not so stupid as to believe it will allay her want, but like programming, she follows the routine nonetheless.

*

two months. oak is recalcitrant to her teachings. vivi is buoyant in her obliviousness. they do not see her. she cannot see herself. the closest thing she has to a mirror is miles away, attending a new husband and parading with stars dangling from rounded ears. if taryn were to come, jude thinks she wouldn’t recognize either of them.

*

she is ashamed to watch her pillowcase blotted with tear stains at nightfall.

it’s more embarrassing than waking up the first time to menstrual blood staining her sheets, two stories up in madoc’s estate, knowing not what it meant or what to do.

jude duarte avoids as superfluous emotions as sadness or hopelessness. being a mortal in faerie, those sentiments would wash her out of focus, riddle her with doubt, and with a certainty would so far as kill her.

but, she thinks, i am not in faerie anymore. i am no longer in a place where blood is a better find than tears. where eyes are dry and swords are sated by throats and bellies.

perhaps in her native world it is safer. that’s what jude wanted this whole time, was it not? safety. if she were meant to feel relief, she should feel it now.

survival feels wet against her cheek.

*

he keeps slugging his damn arms. jude tugs oak roughly to her, fixing his stance, and urges him to strike.

“will i still be king someday?”

as per usual, he tries deflection to talk out of a combat lesson. jude is unmoved. “yes.”

“are you sure?”

she shifts her weight to her other leg. “there is no other way.” his form is poor. she identifies his weaker side and rounds slowly to it. “the crown answers to blood. raise your elbow higher. protect your face.”

oak listens for once. his voice is shrill still. “so there is no one else?”

of course there’s someone else. another bearer of the crown, another royal to lead their nation. but jude grits her teeth and resorts to her best asset: lying. “no. no one else.”

her little brother pauses, their lesson half-present in his mind. intrigued, she watches the scrunch of his brows as he formulates a thought. “unless cardan has a child. then there would be another.”

if he sees her freeze, he doesn’t mention it. the scenario turns her thoughts errant, threatens her with a conniption. some sick part of her wishes to linger on the possibility, but with oak before her and posed to fight, she cannot allow herself that masochism.

oak stands expectant, his arm growing weary and slouching. the least she can do is not lie.

“i suppose.”

he remembers none of the stance the next evening.

*

“no word from dad. taryn either.”

jude lifts her face to catch vivi rummaging through envelopes of mail. “what, were you expecting miracles? a shift in the weather?” she scoffs, coming back to her task. counting money. hard-earned cash from late shifts of all services and flavors. espionage, theft, the occasional sparring match. the underground fae crime ring taints the soul, but it pays in fifties.

vivi interrupts her quick fingers. “he liked you best, you know. dad always gave more of himself to you than to me or taryn.” she notices her brother sitting at the couch, leans in to rumple his hair. “or oak.”

jude shoots vivi a cruel look, an exasperated look. “what good that did to me.”

her sister’s eyes are fierce as a growling cat where they pin her in place. “quite some good, your highness.”

jude does a fucking great job at not screaming.

*

she hates to think of the name.

what could his true name be, she wonders? if she commanded it, before the brokering of their epically failed marriage for his release, jude asks herself if he’d given it. if he’d hated her that much more.

her mind swirls with reminders of midnight black eyes, of fingers against her lips and the abstruse feeling of possession by another being.

she won’t think of it. she won’t dream of it. she won’t aerate the two syllables in a whisper of dark sky. she certainly won’t be pelted with the scariest word, the four letters she refused since childhood to allow a place in her. the word that died with a blade on its back as it ran to the kitchen. the word that meant a certain foolishness, a certain danger. she won’t. it’s her new mantra: she won’t, she won’t, she won’t.

falsehoods have always been her strongest asset.

*

“we shouldn’t be watching this shit,” heather sighs between mouthfuls of red licorice.

they’re leaning on the couch, lined up like soldiers catching their breath amidst pilgrimage to battle. the television blares high. jude notices heather has shifted her free hand to cover oak’s eyes.

she inspects the playing show more closely. one second there’s a wide shot of scenery, familiar in its medieval setting, and the next there’s a person. a striking young woman with silver hair like new iron falling in tresses across pale shoulders.

the figure is so intimate it nearly makes jude jump. “a princess,” she murmurs.

heather shakes her head. “no. oh no. well, sorta.” oak squirms in her hand, breaking free of her hold, to which she sighs and acquiesces. “sure, i guess, but more than that. it’s complicated.”

from her place next to oak, jude nods. “royals tend to be.”

her sister’s lover, or ex lover (certainly an ex something), barrels on. she uses hand gestures to further her explaining. “her father was the mad king, but she was only a baby when he got dethroned. she was exiled from her home, far across the sea. then she married a powerful man, leader of a tribe, and sorta grew into herself. after he died, his rivals and his people tried to disbar her. turns out she had more in her arsenal than was believed.” heather wags her eyebrows at the show.

jude couldn’t be more confused until a huge, black winged creature crosses the screen. “are those…”

“yup,” heather confirms. “the mother of beasts. and her husband’s people, they followed her. even though he was gone, and was their real ruler, and it was unacceptable that she rule on the basis of who she was, they still accepted her as leader.”

jude stiffens. “really.”

they made it seem so close, so easy to reach. the princess-who-wasn’t-a-princess straightens her spine, amplifies her voice. when she speaks, people heed.

heather slices her reverie. “because she has magic.” she points to the overflying monsters. “badass.”

ah. because. she. has. magic.

a non-magic girl slouches back in her non-magic couch, watching a non-magic box, consumed by baneful imaginings.

*

unprepossessing. that is what they called her. ugly, if wine or fury loosened their vocabulary. how had i let someone who called me that touch me at the collarbones? kiss my throat? call me his sweet villain? jude has no answer. she replays and loops the plethora of adjectives her dear husband and company had called her. wormfood. unsightly. repellent. direful. unbecoming. synonyms alike to the same derivative, final word.

mortal.

the circle of worms, she and taryn. daughter of dirt.

she wishes she were nobody’s daughter.

*

it takes her three nights after that to realize now she really is nobody’s daughter.

*

her exile hits the half year.

*

bride of faerieland. the mortal queen.

a fugacious dream, she finalizes. no more than a fleeting child’s wish. had she remained at home, no, in faerie , she’d never have been queen. not without the people’s approval and not with her mortality. a hollow crown, a fool’s wreath.

she cements it into her brain, sears it to memory. she never. would. have been. a true. queen.

oh, but what a vision they would’ve been. jude, stiff boned with graying hair, and cardan beside her, youthful as ever and tethered to her with ball and chain. unescapable. a fresh minted prison for him. he’d be gagged to ask for her kisses, much less beg for them. when her skin sagged and time plundered her heart, how quick he’d be to run from her. a bat out of hell.

when it processes that she’s thought of his name, written it to existence in the myriad of her thoughts, she breaks into a cold sweat.

*

she won’t call her exile a blessing. there’s many descriptors for the singular event that redefined the last leg of her fleeting teenage life, and blessing won’t cut it. recently, however, jude has had the chance to add timely to the list.

jude kills a troll. he’d been preying on humans the same time as her abscond to the human realm. this particular troll began his horror streak after developing a taste for the helpless glaze in their eyes at final moments before teeth sunk into shoulders, the way they rolled back or if the occasion came up that the eyelids would fall crookedly. the funny look of a drugged, passed out, mindless loon. except these were dead loons, victims to the desire of a beast. these humans had been lured into the abandoned subway tunnel, but jude had strolled there all on her own.

“that bitch carries the devil,” commented one of the fae. gathered in a ring, stealing glimpses of her over their shoulders.

waiting for her pay, jude kicked the tip of her boot into the solid ground, arms crossed. “that bitch can hear. i may not have fae hearing, but i’d abstain from testing me were i in your shoes.”

the fae she had spoken to was of the sea, and was barefoot. irony not lost on her.

sooner than expected, jude duarte developed a reputation. successful runs, frightening recounts of what she did to earn her money, it swiveled up and circled around her like a tornado. some fae considered testing if the legend was bigger than the person, and some fae had lost the use of a limb. she knew she’d been strong before, but this new world taught her what an unstoppable force she was. had always been.

they give her a nickname. fearful of evoking the name given to her at birth, though being human it had no effect on her. still, shadows shivered at her wake, watching, consuming jude duarte’s trail of defeated foes. in the damp, cold streets of maine, in a world she long since had cut true tethers from, she’s reborn as the wrath.

in her mind, somewhere in the bowels of the elfhame palace, the court of shadows laugh up a storm.

*

oak grows less querulous and more capitulant to his role. jude in turn decides to do the same with her old-but-now-new home amidst mortals.

she watches tv. repaints her bike. buys new clothes. eats toasted waffles with peanut butter and honey.

when heather mentions a museum across town, jude no longer stares at her blankly. she doesn’t fumble or grasp for words. her foot’s planted on the ground, steady and strengthening.

she becomes inclined to music. an old trait, now in a new ambient. vivi glamours money to grant her a gift, a small excuse to cheer her up. the gadget fits most of her hand, sensitive to her tact and bright during the darker hours. heather hauls her laptop once in a while to upload new songs onto it, teaching jude how to sift through the list.

music player in her hand, jude sheepishly assembles a queue of songs that she likes. tunes that have replaced bards in taverns or notes plucked from lutes.

an aggressive song by a vexed wife goes first, the one with words that hit jude harsher than she wants to admit, the title saying not to hurt yourself. another one called once upon a time. a wedding song turned rock, a “strong electric guitar” according to heather, the singer belting about being loved tenderly. paint it, black by the stones that roll. where once her fingers would’ve stumbled over the gadget’s buttons, today she masters with ease.

the stunted child, the wraith of a human girl she once was rears her head in jude’s dreams. she gains color with each passing day.

*

by the time her exile hits eight months, jude begins the transition. she intends it to life, gives it air to breath.

i, jude duarte, will be happy in the mortal world.

she wills herself to change on a molecular level. when the desire of faerieland hightails back, she slams it to the back of her mind. she transforms the pain into power, into will. the scar left behind from her banishment becomes fuel for her new life. for the transformation into who jude could truly be in this wide, marvelous, enormous human world.

they don’t want you. they have not once wanted you.

he doesn’t want you. not like you do him.

he

doesn’t

want

you.

move on, she begs herself. move on. move on. move on. stop chasing after ghosts.

*

the wrath is elbow deep in a goblin’s guts. he swindled bryern a bagful of gold coin. it came down to her to rescue it back, and assure the impediment of a repetition. that’s when she met her.

“hnnnnggg…” moans a figure across the room.

jude ignored the drugged out junkies on her way in, leaving them in the back burner while working through the bulk of her job. but the turncloak goblin is dead, and was that noisy mound moving?

“help…” she hears.

jude rarely considers herself so altruistic. but the meekness of the plea pulls her across the room, tugs her legs to the sprawled person.

human. a girl, dirty blue hair all too reminiscent of nicasia, but not so polished as to pass for a sea princess. no, this girl appeared on the edge of a precipice, thin coat of sweat across her body.

“more,” the girl begs.

like clockwork. jude squats down to get closer. “want me to get you out of here?”

weakly, the girl nods. “she’ll find me.”

“what’s your name?”

the stranger smacks her lips, eyes rolling in her head. “lolli.”

lolli turned out to be an easy haul but a terrible map. jude exasperatedly dragged her through alleys and corners, hearing the laments of her companion through the journey. lolli got sidetracked from her ride-or-dies, see, shot up a bit too much powder - something she called never - and had an urgent need to return to the clan.

jude’s self-preservation rang high when she knocked on the selected door and met a fae two heads taller than she. his red skin shone bright in the doorway, his glamour invisible to jude’s geas.

“thank you for bringing pop back to us. i’m qylin” he says across from jude, having invited her in and given her a once-over. “uh, you mortal?”

she’s declined a drink, but accepted a chair. “as they come.”

qylin moves closer. “and you took out melbor? pop’s supplier?”

“is pop meant to be lolli?”

“her full name’s lollipop.”

“oh. i see.” a red flush runs across her face. “melbor huh? didn’t catch his name. i did catch both his kidneys though.”

qylin whistles.  “damn. a mortal.” he pronounces it with wonder. nothing like she’s used to. it falls with disbelief in her ears.

“that’s quite a might you got in you. here.” in an outstretched hand, jude finds a tiny acorn that no doubt has a message inside it. “if you ever quit meandering for coin and want to run with the real wolves, i’ll answer.”

wolf. she’d been a girl and she’d been a mortal. then she’d been wormfood and after that she’d been a queen. couldn’t say jude once considered herself a wolf, or imagined running with them. then again, she had become so many things far from her imagination.

the ward. the mortal. the queen. the wrath. her list of faces ran endless, each mask pressing heavier and heavier on her fragile composition.

*

in the beginning, vivi congratulated her like a preschooler with a trophy. “look at you, making an effort. i told you home wasn’t so bad.”

months later they’ve turned to “you are too far out” accompanied by the tapping of her foot, a face riddled by concern. “you’re jumping into danger again.”

vivi didn’t know how jude missed being afraid.

*

if she dreams of cardan, the sting pulls her awake and breathless into the chirping crickets of the dark hours.

*

ninth month. her exile is a baby somewhere, born and breathing. a marking reminder of her incipient rule cut short.

jude duarte makes a decision. she steps outside of the girl she used to be, the teenager latched to a world that had not once been hers.

the acorn is light in her hands. she splits it open, unrolling the paper inside, and when she sees the address and phone number it takes her a total of eighteen minutes to pack.

*

saying goodbye without telling them it’s goodbye cracks a new wound in her already shattering heart.

*

oak thinks she’s going to the gym. vivi thinks she’s babysitting oak. heather might’ve had a clue, but she kept silent while jude hugged her, muttering a quick thanks for watching her brother while vivi came from the post office.

it appears, after years, she’d learned to say farewell to all things that were close to her.

*

qylin refrained from asking questions, just as jude liked it. she watched, studied, learned, kept to her rank while scheming for more. the room and cot qylin offers is as home as any she’s had.

*

when she urged cardan to inveigle the princess of the undersea, it led them to a hidden alcove draped with vines, to a couch where she’d bared more of jude duarte than she had in her entire life. the memory is both a memory and the dream that recurs most in her sleep. their tryst, their unculminated tumble, their fumbled connection, whatever people would want to call it. in her sickest hours, jude allowed herself to think of it with a tender gaze, with a pink shiny filter, with the dreaded word she’d been on the run from for years.

that you hate me. tell me that you hate me.

“i hate you,” jude whispers. “i hate you and i married you and i hate you.” the two phrases weren’t mutually exclusive.

*

lollipop has been gone for weeks, but her junkie spirit is alive.

the wrath evaded nevermore like cats did water, but the gradual acclimation to qylin’s ring fills her with misplaced ease. it took them damn near six months, but jude finally surrendered her arm.

it pricks, the needle, like the pinch on her finger when cardan stabbed her for the salt in her blood. for the antidote to faerie fruit.

she’s high. she’s at a revel in new york and she’s vulnerable and she’s high.

it doesn’t take long for jude to cement her decision to never do drugs in her natural life again. but once that’s been engraved in her think tank, the world turns mellow and technicolor. it tells her to enjoy while it lasts.

she’s surrounded by leaves, platter of fruit, dancing pixies and slender fae. painful reminders of the home she direly tries to forget.

in a mirage, she pictures black curls under a golden crown of flowers. cruel lips forming a smile.

as if underwater, ears plugged with chlorine liquid, jude hears a seductive voice to her side. “what a pretty thing.” a woman. tall and thin, fae ears and slit green eyes. eyes that fall down to jude’s chest. “busty.”

not all quite there, jude struggles but succeeds in recognizing the tone coming from her courtier. and before she can respond, to her surprise, a second woman emerges from the back of her new companion.

she’s got beautiful straight teeth and straighter talons. “careful. saphine can bite.”

after being called hideous half a life, this come-on douses jude awake like a bucket of water. she studies the two girls and the raking nature of their eyes. she thinks perhaps if she paid more attention she could’ve recognized that in cardan’s eyes. could’ve told it apart from the hatred, the arrogance and the disgust.

without preemptiveness, without pause to think it over, jude tugs both girls to her. her body busts in sensation.

she remembers cardan in a maze, draped in languor and gold faerie drug and girls. black shark eyes watching her while horned girls had their way with him. one kissed his neck, she remembers, and another his knee.

“here,” she scoffs, pushing down sapphire or whatever’s head to her knees. “above my boot.”

a chuckle. “feisty, huh?” she hears, and she truly doesn’t care.

next, jude unceremoniously pulls the second girl up to her neck, leading them exactly where and how she wants them. she’s a constellation of heat and brief spikes of libido.

does cardan think of her? when he’s in bed or bedding someone new, whichsoever activity he performs at night, does jude cross his mind? does he remember her? sometimes in the ridiculous seclusion of her mind she thought cardan would be faithful to her once upon a time. she could slap her own cheeks for such foolishness.

his face appears stark in her memory. deep hollows on his collarbones, raven black hair and eyes devouring her like fruit. his lips, they’d been so soft.

jude leans her head back and laments her ghosts. she inhales sharply.

after the hot spell passes, after jude feels the trickle of tongue make its way up to her thigh and another down her chest, she pushes them away.

why? she doesn’t know. jude is only sure of the fact that she’s tired and doesn’t want this and instead wants a glass of water then maybe a bed.

saphine tilts her head, rolls her eyes, and waves her off, moving along. jude is thankful, for the first time, at being so easily discarded.

*

a month later makes two years since her infamous exit.

“unless cardan has a child,” oak said. many moons past.

the memory of him brings upon a dream. the opposite to her listless, watered-down dreams she grew used to having.

she sneaks through the palace, it’s name near forgotten to her, crawling against walls or chasing shadows.

he’s there. he’s in many of her dreams and he’s there in this one. hair astray. tilted crown. reclined on a couch, his tail freely swishing left and right.

if he remembers their pact of marriage, he doesn’t bother to show it. no mourning, no sadness, no desperation. unlike the other dreams of him, in this he’s placated. joyful, even, in a way so seldom his character.

jude’s understanding is little.

something squirms in cardan’s arms. when she gets closer it nearly takes her breath away to a fault, threatening to kill her. it’s a baby. older than a newborn but small enough to fit in his arms, to paw at his chin and gargle.

no test could prepare her for this sight.

and cardan. he’s absolutely changed. reinvented in the light of this babe, this creature jude hasn’t seen the face of. because that is his spawn, the tiny tail swishing from its rear indicates as much. that, combined with the black tresses, leaves no doubt that she is looking at a king and his heir.

in the depths of her shriveled dignity, jude duarte senses another break, another disgusting branched crack.

her husband is inconsolable in love. his bright smile slashes wide across his face, softening his sharp cheekbones. he lifts the baby to his face, pressing their noses together, cooing. she hardly recognizes him. but she recognizes the lack of a need for her.

this was a nightmare.

cardan lets the child descend, adjusting them in his lap with heartbreaking gentleness. to her horror, the toddler turns and pierces jude in place with raven black eyes.

she runs cold all over. the child has the look of a girl.

her coloring is unique, darker than cardan’s and any fae’s. it’s closer to… jude’s own. and below the black curls, which she realizes now is actually dark amber brown, there’s ears. rounded, untipped, human ears.

jude is utterly unmoored. the scene melts. she wakes up to hands descending upon her, to frightened questions of why she was screaming and that she’s woken up half of the gang. they cannot get a straight answer from her, and after plowing her with cups of water and aspirins from a quick run to the mini-store, the most they get from jude duarte is a somber face and a fall into her pillow.

*

jude becomes a gallery of girls. she’s judy, and she’s martina, and she’s amelie with the occasional latika. running in qylin’s underworld gang requires her to. police don’t catch her, fae detectives don’t either, and if by chance she needed to run an errand the name she gave was one of a basinful of fake i.d. cards.

“i once had a twin,” she offhandedly told someone.

“what was her name?” they asked.

jude slurped from a tall gas station soda cup. “doesn’t matter.”

*

three years. the earnest smile she’d lost a number of winters ago returns tenuously but surely. as a sliver, as a tiny reminder, as a planted seed showing the very smallest evidence of root.

*

a pixie joins their ranks. young and limber. her cerulean skin reminds jude of a blue court under the sea.

“fand,” she greets the mismatched group. “newborn nomad.”

jude welcomes her by the form of a nod, turning back to the display of headshots splashed on the table, organizing it into a semblance of order.

she feels fand dance around her, suspicious to her presence. she thinks for a hot minute that fand might want to cause trouble. jude focuses her attention to the knife hidden between her breasts.

the pixie stares at her, unabashed, and right as jude thinks to reach to her chest, fand grows the courage to ask. “you. do i know you?”

the question falls flat. “i don’t believe so. there’s little chance our paths crossed.”

fand squints. “well, i’ve just left elfhame. finally broke from that unruly mess.”

lightning forks in jude’s chest, attacking her nervous system. an old phantom possesses her body, causing her to still.

the pixie moves closer, inspecting. “your look, it’s so familiar.”

jude understands in a minute.

taryn. fucking taryn. always, forever, impossible-to-be-rid-of taryn.

summoning years of falsehoods and acting experience, jude breaks eye contact to laugh and feign offense. “all mortals look the same to fae, i’m sure.”

that is not a lie. she learned that from the wickedest prince himself.

*

when fand slips away from the gang two nights later, jude forces herself to block it from memory.

*

she’s almost twenty-one. in faerie she might have died since she was eleven.

here, she’s got a family. a rough knit circle of confidants, people she rarely thinks twice about trusting anymore. her music keeps her company, and her growing arsenal of skills, of wins, it warms the smallest piece of her soul.

how could she have hated such a place?

*

“counterinsurgents. we calculate two dozen below the bridge,” jekka, qylin’s second, explains over a map.

jude’s focus is precise, uninterrupted.

the years, the lack of practice from a simple lack of need to, makes it so that she doesn’t religiously check the perimeter, doesn’t spot a green face. his dark tuft of hair and hooked nose, spying from the window, hidden among leaves and wind.

if she had seen him, she might’ve remembered her old friend. if she’d seen him, she might’ve broken down in tears, or begged for a word, or done none of those things to help jekka figure out their positions for the next day’s raid.

*

“watch for the sniper!” one of her gang yells.

jude ducks, experienced muscles leading her across the space, the shielded street with broken streetlights. abandoned houses repurposed for criminal night creatures sprawl one after the other. they’ve chosen one a stone throw from the river, so close they could taste the salt while counting bloody fae or human scalps.

five, six, seven leaps and she’s out of shot, crammed into a wedge in the building. she took down three counterinsurgents already. the wrath ran rampant today.

another figure jumps out the window, two yards from her, and takes off running through the backside of the house, the one facing the water. swift as the wind, jude pursues in fervor.

bam.

first the noise like thunderclap. then the pain.

oh.

when they screamed sniper, she expected an arrow. she expected a taut bow and a sharp, easily removed tip of metal. not a bullet.

*

in the end, jude has been a galaxy of abridges.

she’s had abridged parents, gone before her eighth birthday. that led to an abridged innocence and an abridged life in their rudimentary home in maine. she’s had an abridged relationship with her sisters. an abridged sense of belonging.

she had an abridged romance with a prince and king. that chapter being severed short was, as they all were, not her fault.

she had an abridged marriage. an abridged kingdom rule.

to be culminated in an abridged life. thin and meager.

she hopes no matter how small her garden has been, that each poison flower and cherry blossoms she’s sowed has done its best to enrich the tiny piece of universe allotted to her.

*

she should’ve known when she saw the river.

in water all began, and in water it ends.

there are no screams. no chaos. the gang has left her, chasing their foes further up the street, looking to corner them. jude? she’s going for a dip. a passage to the next life. she’ll float to it. gargle on the last of life.

“huh,” she whispers.

the ache is pungent in her back, the bullet hitting close to the spine but not quite. deadly, though. deadly for sure.

she wasn’t queen of nothing. she was queen of death, the hierophant of misery. her whole life has been a string of it. well, no longer.

jude duarte reaches the water’s edge, using each fiber of her strength to not fall in quite yet.

*

in the haziness of all that she’d done and all that she’d run from, he comes to her. in dream, in flesh. she’s not yet in the water.

“jude.”

this has to be the mark between. the straddling line of life and death. because somehow, impossibly, she hears him.

“jude!”

or?...

her brows scrunch in confusion, a naked toe in the river already. she wants to turn, but the seeping life at her back won’t allow it.

she doesn’t need to. long arms surround her, someone moving in front of her to read her face, to see what lies there.

it’s him.

jude’s lids droop. her back is on fire, and she burns in the flames. he’s barely changed. matured into his looks, if she had to put it into words. his tar eyes, slender lips, pointed nose and legendary black curls suddenly remind her of being seventeen.

there’s so much in his face she can barely read any of it. “is it you? is it really you?” he demands.

she’s always been jude. who jude became, that was a different question. one she no longer cares to ask.

“i found you. i finally finally found you.” his voice is incredulous.

is he the harbinger of the beyond? was that his role to play this entire time? her thoughts eddy and murk the more time passes with a hole in her back.

it is an arcane thing, in truth, to be held by a creature she’s craved and despised. her body responds on its own by pressing closer, seeking warmth.

he might be crying. could also be the angle of the sun.

“please,” he whispers.

she hasn’t said his name in years.

“cardan.”

his eyes fall closed.

her mouth repeats the motion, recognizing the familiarity of his name. cardan. once her king. her husband. the sight of him brings forth a wave of emotions, cascading through her like a waterfall.

cardan tugs her close to a punishingly tight degree. “i thought you dead.” he speaks into her ear. “we searched for years. i thought you were gone. gone, jude.”

the word pulls her back, creates distance between them. jude lets herself get lost in his eyes, those splendid eyes, bottomless and infinite, a serene look on her face as she responds:

“almost.”

the fractious prince too arrogant to be a ruler does not stand in front of her. this man is similar, but a sense of strength she hadn’t seen is forefront and shining. jude wishes she could appreciate it.

if only this weren’t the last time.

“so it is you.” she says it with wonder, with a detachment that lets her turn away from his arms and face the river.

cardan’s intake of breath indicates he has finally seen her wound. he twists his neck, shouts to someone far back, hidden in the houses. “shes hurt! SHE’S HURT!” his voice is raw and desperate.

jude walks into the water.

a hand at her arm stops her, keeps her in place, but she shrugs it off with newfound confidence and turns around. cardan’s incredulous face sparks memories of faraway lands and kingdoms.

“what are you doing?” he demands.

jude’s lips break into a smile. how she missed his voice. she walks back until water reaches her waist, then her chest, then the crown of her head.

“stop!” she hears.

the layers of the girl she was, who she is, who she could’ve been, they merge. yes, she had missed faerie. yes, she had wanted cardan. yes, she had wept tears of rage at knowing she could not have either of them back. if she cried now, her tears would turn to river water, melding into the beautiful greater whole.

a hand grips her chest. another tugs on her neck, urging her up, up, up.

air. sweet air in her lungs.

jude gasps, her plans interrupted. the bulletwound at her back sears at the salt water, the sensation so intense it actually numbs her and leaves her feeling very little.

cardan presses her flush to his body. he raises her up, and his face is marked with horror and betrayal.

“how could you?” he weeps. his features are anguished, desperate. he’s shaking her by the shoulder. “how could you?”

jude smiles a wet smile. “remember when you pushed me into the rapids? and you forced my twin to abandon me and kiss your cheeks? i can’t remember a time when i’ve been warm since then. the water, it was cold. like a leech.”

“the roach is gathering for a salve. jude, you will be okay. you need to get out now.”

she realizes there’s something wrong. “wait. no. that’s a lie. i am a liar.” she tilts her face to his, eyes meeting. “you were warm. behind the throne room and in your bed. you kept me warm. but you ripped me from my home and i've been cold since.”

cardan does something she didn’t imagine him capable of. he didn’t do so when balekin beat him. he didn’t do so when his family was slaughtered. he did so this moment, with her encircled by his arms. cardan sobs.

maybe this is when he understands he’s been forever her herald. the marker of her death. their destinies, interlinked, but only for this.

as he bares himself open, jude candidly studies his face. there’s freedom in allowing herself to admit she missed him. missed all of it. her kingdom that never was.

“i’ll heal you,” he implores. his hand runs down wet and shakingly down her face. “you’re my queen. we’ll use our magic. we will, jude, if you stay with me. don’t you get it? the exile was fake. i never meant for you to vanish. i’m begging you, please, help me heal you.”

her forehead falls on his. waist-deep in water, she feels his short breaths fall on her cheek. “you held hatred for me once.”

slowly, miserably, cardan shakes his head. the motion makes her pull away but he doesn’t let her, staying together. “love. i held love, jude.”

love

four letters.

years of running. and it caught up to her all the same.

his words hit her worse than the sniper did. she staggers in his embrace.

“hold.” he says the word with intensity. “i hold, jude.” cardan refuses to let her go, won’t let her fall. “you walked away with my heart.”

thoughts swirl in her head. they swim around like the fish crossing in between their legs.

“hold,” she says weakly.

hold love. he loves me.

impossible. and true.

“huh.”

*

“hold me,” she asks him. and he does.

he does.

he appears vacillant to his actions save for holding her.

jude can’t remember a time when she wasn’t running. from her parents’ demise. from madoc’s threats. from the cruel fae. from her sister’s betrayal. from cardan’s torments and, apparently, his ministrations of love. from her own shadow.

they haven’t moved from the water. it’s been a minute. it’s been four years.

jude feels her body slag, the water making up for the new deadweight.

“i wish you’d never left me,” he murmurs.

gratingly, she lifts her hand to trace a finger along the hard, straight line and point of her husband’s ear. “cardan, are you here to ask me for a divorce?”

his face breaks. she’s fully leaning on him, his long arms cradling her to his chest. amidst their soaked clothes, she feels the thudding of his heart against her cheek.

jude’s eyes flutter open and closed. “i want to tell you i will. i want to tell you i’ve waited for it. i - ah…” a jab of pain causes her to pause. “i want to tell you it hasn’t been eating me alive to be apart from you. i want to tell you… so… many… lies.”

through her misty vision, she sees cardan shake his head. “you are not leaving me.” the conviction in his voice draws a laugh from her.

“oh, cardan.” it’s the last good breath in her lungs. in the distance, she feels the ripples of someone entering the river, racing towards them. she sees only pitch black eyes. “i already have. i already have.”

they are esoteric, rendered in numinous light. from their entwined bodies in the water, there grow white flowers at the riverbed, their petals straining for the sun.

[girlllthatsgrim]

NSFW Alphabet (Harry Potter Version)

James Potter

A= Aftercare

I think James would be very attentive and fun after sex; he would be that guy to leave in the middle of the night and buy food at a diner just because the two of you are hungry. He would also be the one to have a pillow fight before and after doing the deed.

B= Body Part

The favorite part of his body would be his penis; it’s kind of arrogant, but he was very proud of how long and thick he was. As far as he was concerned, he had the best of both worlds. Like Sirius, James is also an ass guy. I can see him and Sirius just watching girls pass by them and eye the trunk to see what’s going on. The bigger the better.

C= Cum

Since James looks like a messy person to me, I think his semen would be all over you; Your chest, legs, back. I don’t think he would do this on purpose all the time to degrade you, but he just ejaculates a lot. It has to go somewhere.

D= Dirty Secret

Sirius and James are very similar in personality(it’s almost scary) so I do think that James would also be a slight exhibitionist too. The difference between them, however, is the fact that James has more of an ego than Sirius. In his mind, the first humans were practically naked so why can’t he do the same? I also think that after his partner finds out about this and they’re offended by it, he would still continue to do it because he doesn’t care.

E= Experience

Similar to Sirius, James would have tons of experience too - though I think Sirius would have a bit more just because he’s more of the smooth talker while James is a bit rough around the edges. He still got skirts though.

F= Favorite position

To be honest, I don’t think James would have one. Unlike Sirius, James is an even split between dom and submissive AKA a switch. Every time the two of you would have sex, the positions would change; I would attribute this to his overall incessant creativity. He is a prankster afterall.

G= Goofy

Goofy is this guy’s middle name; he would be the one to make sex or dick jokes and girls can’t help but laugh at them. This would translate into the bedroom as well and I think it would be super fun. Depending on the girl, he might tone it down a bit, but I think James would be cracking jokes non-stop.

H= Hair

If there is one thing that James is known for, it’s his hair. While it looks nice on his head, I think James would be the type of guy to shave on a regular basis just because it feels better for him. On a woman, I don’t think he would mind if she was hairy as long as it’s maintained. He would definitely tease you about it though by saying something like, “Queen Kong is looking quite delectable today.”

I= Intimacy

Based on what I’ve read about him, James appears to be someone who values true love. Obviously, he’s been with other women, but he was always searching for the right girl. Furthermore, if you factor in the type of parents he had (whom I think loved each other very, very much), that would cause him to be a hopeless romantic. I wouldn’t be surprised if he played a really slow love song on a record player while the two of you had sex. He might even sing along too. He would also shower kisses all over your body, loving the fact that he’s found the right woman. James would also be the kind of guy to use pet names more than your real name as well; something like ‘love’.

J= Jack off

Because James is a hopeless romantic, I think that once he finds that one girl - that’s it. You’re all he can really think about because you make him so happy. James is, I think, a deeply passionate person and sometimes that passion translates into masturbating quite a few times. Not every single day, but if you were apart for an extended period of time he would definitely “pull the skin”. He would tell you when he masturbated too, which is weird, but that’s how he is. I think he would also be quite loud about it imaging his lady love. Though when you masturbate, it’s a whole different ball game; that would set him off real quick.

K= Kink

He would have a few, namely impact play and orgasm control. Since James likes ass, I think he would revel in spanking - especially when he switches to his dominant side. I also think he would like orgasm control because James is a big tease outside and in the bedroom; he would control your orgasms simply because he can.

L= Location

James is as adventurous as Sirius is - I would argue even more than him, but he would always prefer to do the deed in the bedroom. He would joke and say something like, “Why so shocked? Did you want to sneak into McGonagall’s office instead?” Obviously, he was kidding, but just because he preferred the bedroom does not mean he wouldn’t take risks.

M= Motivation

James seems like he would be a wonderful dancer and I think he would like girls that can dance well too. I think It would really turn him on seeing a girl dance to something similar to Ciara or even Shakira. I also think twerking(if this kind of dance existed in the 70s) would drive him absolutely insane since he’s an ass guy.

N= No

Dirty talk wouldn’t be his thing. It’s bad enough that he sometimes ejaculates all over you. He does use pet names, but never anything like degrading like ‘bitch’ or ‘slut’. I’m positive his mother, Euphemia, would be absolutely horrified to hear that he called his girlfriend that and I’m sure his father would thump him upside his head for that too.

O= Oral

As a switch, I think James would enjoy both -not really favoring the other over another. Which is why if you would ever want oral from him, he would suggest the two do you do 69 to even out the playing field.

P= Pace

Generally, his pace was fast, but that was because he got so excited when you two had sex. His passion can’t be contained in that moment especially if you played with his curls and cried out how much you loved him.

Q= Quickie

Yup, he would be the guy to do quickies.

R= Risk

If you weren’t a risk taker before you met James Potter, you will soon become one because this guy is the #1 risk taker out there. He is considerate of your feelings on things, however, that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try and persuade to the Gods on why the two of you should have sex on the Quidditch field.

S= Stamina

For some reason, I imagine James Potter to be quite muscular. Not WWE material, but because he has to be physically fit for quidditch, he most likely has a pretty nice six pack. So, I think his stamina is impressive for that reason; he could probably go on for about 7 or 8 rounds.

T= Toys

He wouldn’t be one to be a Johnny Raincloud, but I think he would be against using toys on his lady. James considers himself to be quite a great lover so why would his partner need a sex toy when the real thing is right by her? Even if she really wanted to, I believe James to be very stubborn despite his adventurous nature and he probably wouldn’t yield.

U= Unfair

I mentioned this under Kink, but he is a big tease.

V= Volume

If I had to compare him to Sirius, James wouldn’t be as loud where he’d wake up everyone, but he would definitely be more obnoxious about it.

W= Wildcard

I think he would be into a good massage from his partner, especially after a rough day at quidditch practice. However, him being the extra person he is, I could see him stripping down naked for it just to see you all hot and bothered.

X= X-ray

Flaccid: 6

Erect: 8

James is one of those rare cases who has both the length and the girth. He certainly has a reason to be proud.

Y= Yearning

Having good stamina sometimes relates to a guy’s sex drive and I think James would have a pretty high sex drive generally. For one, he’s always working out and some studies show that people who exercise more tend to have higher libidos. Second, he has the love of his life on his arm 90% of the time. Of course, he could control himself when he needed to, but if push comes to shove you best believe he’s wisking you away from prying eyes.

Z= ZZZ

I highly doubt James would fall asleep before you since he’s a powerhouse of pure energy; give it a half hour and he’ll be out by then once he sees that you’re asleep.