#even if we never talk we're practically besties

[nikatyler]

Ross on fire is a canon event you can't interfere

[falling-hand-in-unlovable-hand]

i'm so tired of fucking dealing with people today. i'm the only one awake in my house rn and somehow i'm still dealing with people

[portraitofalinkonfyre]

Hiiii!!!! Uuhh sorry I get a bit awkward to approach new people but oh my god I needed to say that I absolutely love your work!! Im truly a fan!! Your Fierce Deity fics bring me to life and I cant stop thinking about it <333

Not sure if this idea is interesting enough but I cant stop thinking about it and I thought you could maybe like it!!

I keep thinking about Reader talking with the Fierce Deity's mask (imagining he still sealed in the mask) like he was physically there, just rambling. We could show him the sky and the grass, mundane things, talk about our thoughts and ask questions to him, like what is it like to be a god and if he is happy with his life.

One question that also pops a lot in my mind is asking what gods thought of humans or maybe, what he thought of them, of us!! Ofc he doesnt respond bc he is inside the mask but then one day he is off of it and he remembers each and every question we ever asked, and is willing to answer them all NFKENFKWFKWKKFKWKDKW

Its just an idea, you dont really have to do it, but everytime I think about it or Fierce in general, I cant help but also think about you <333

Im really glad I found your work!! I hope we can be friends!! :DDD

I wish you a lovely day my little leaf!! Toodlessss 🍃🍃🍃

�� Woods 𖠰

Okay first of all, this idea this absolutely amazing!! I'll have you know I was practically VIBRATING with excitement while reading this! You have no idea how stoked I am to receive asks like this, so do not feel bad at all for sharing! Also what we're literally already besties <3

Man In The Mask

Pairing: Fierce Deity x Reader

Warning(s): N/A

Masterlist

What are you?

It was a question the Fierce Deity had heard a thousand times, often accompanied by blood and blaze: a question of those he protected... and those he did not, whispered on the heels crimson-dripped lips and frightful eyes. He was a god of war, and thus not one to engage in the folly of mortals. Orders were his foundation, and steel his soul, wrapped in a righteous evil that not even the goddesses could bear to gaze upon.

Which is why he felt nothing short of hedonistic when it fell from the lips of the paltry mortal's holding the wretched mask that trapped him centuries earlier. Voice soft and eyes softer, touch featherlight on the chipped edges of his prison. There were thumbs on the apples of his 'cheeks', and the deity was caught between rage and sorrow. Tumultuous emotions were not his strong suit, and neither was restraint, from the way things were looking.

He didn't need to stand before them to feel their weakness, as was typical of most humans, but there was an ember in your eyes that seemed to burn with a light he didn't dare remember, shining like a beacon in the night.

"I wonder who painted you," the human, you, mused, stroking again over the half-glossed finish of the mask. Gentle, comforting, and utterly indecipherable to the deity inside. "You're so dusty; did Time even polish you?"

Why... Why was that relevant? Never in his wildest thoughts had the Fierce Deity expected Time to intrust his 'care' to a human, much less you. His very existence was a burden; how could a so-called hero willingly place something so... so destructive in the hands of, well, he considered you quite innocent to the tribulations of war and bloodshed and sorrow.

But what could he do but wait, snug under your arm, as you prattled on about anything and everything. The notion that you were naive enough to talk to a mere mask, of all things. Had you no sense? No discretion? It was a question he often asked himself, though only because there was no one else to answer.

That didn't stop his dull wonderings on whether you would ask such questions if he stood before you in the flesh. Would you cower? Fight? Flee? Perhaps he would remember the words that fell from your mouth, just to prove himself right once again.

***

The Fierce Deity mask weighed heavy in your hands as you plodded down the small path towards home. A thick forest bordered you from the east, while a blooming prairie stretched as far as the eye could see from the west. There was no doubt in your mind that you were incredibly lucky to live where you did, a fact that was only exemplified by the nine heroes that had crashed into your life (and living room) through a portal that looked straight out of Coraline or some shit.

Never in a million years would you have expected Time, the distrustful forest child he was, to entrust anything to you, much less a mask that supposedly held the spirit of one of the greatest entities of his world, but you supposed it was only proof that miracles did still exist. Maybe.

Either way, you had taken up the mantle of caring for the mask, and there was no way in hell you were going to screw up. Not that Time would let you, the worrywart, and you were only just beginning to catch him not staring holes into your back.

Chronic mother hens aside, it didn't take a genius to figure out there was something terribly wrong with the item tucked under your arm. Whether it was the crimson and navy facial markings or innocuous radiation of something akin to evil, you had no doubt that Time's warnings were not in jest.

Despite this, you couldn't quite shake the idea of a soul being trapped inside, well, the mask was practically a prison at this point. And maybe, just maybe, you felt a modicum of guilt at the entity's fate. Had he deserved it? Perhaps. Was it cruel? Without a doubt.

Which is why you found yourself taking the Fierce Deity's mask with you when you went to the store, or the library, or simply for a walk in the forest, tucked in your satchel to protect from prying eyes, though you always adjusted the cover so at least one of the eyeholes was free to gaze upon the wonders of your world. It was a small mercy that you were willing to afford, one that quickly spiraled into conversation with the mask itself. You always had a habit of speaking out loud, and now you, presumably, had an ear to listen.

But it was all speculation at this point; Time had never outright confirmed whether a living creature resided within the painted oak, only that it was imbued with an evil so ancient it could challenge the goddesses. You had stopped listening at that point, muttering 'drugs' under your breath, but there was always hope in your tone when you reminisced about the world around you.

With a sigh, you stopped, bringing the mask to the forefront of your vision, thumbs instinctually tracing the crimson stripes on the cheeks. It was baffling that something so beautiful could feel so wrong in your hands. You desperately wished to uncover the truth, to breathe in the big reveal and revel in the known mysteries of life.

"What are you?" The words slipped off your tongue like silk, right enough that you could have chalked it up to fate. The mask felt warm, basked in the fading rays of the golden sun, and you had the distinct feeling of being watched. The pads of your thumbs stroked the raised cheeks of the mask, disturbing a thin layer of dust, as more words spilled forth. "You're so dusty; did Time even polish you?"

It felt strange, talking to the mask as if it was a person, but you were too intrigued to care. If an entity truly resided within, you wondered what he thought of you. Was he impressed? Disgusted? Resigned? You had grown up with the belief that if gods truly existed, their disappointment would be without bounds, but that assumption didn't feel accurate when you stared at the shadowed skin of your palms through the eyeholes.

What horrors had a deity of this caliber seen through eyes of oak... and why were you so desperate to find out?

***

The Fierce Deity was convinced you were either crazy or stupid.

Night had fallen some time ago, filling your small quarters with only the pale light of the moon. His prison sat propped against the contraption you called a 'lamp', facing the bed in which you slept. Your nighttime routine was... unusual, to say the least. In his time, maidens wore long shifts to sleep, while here, you had treated him to the ludicrous sight of what could only be described as the shortest britches he had the displeasure of viewing and a sleeveless rag of a tunic that looked as though you wore it to a scuffle with a large animal, not to mention the sheer audacity you had to undress before the mask without regard for decency. Had the Hero of Time not informed you of his status in this wretched prison, because it was as though you had forgotten or simply didn't care at all?

Whatever the case, it was with much dread that the Fierce Deity only found himself more attracted to the mortal cursed with his care. Your life was, at most, mundane, yet you spoke as though every day was a great adventure, in a tone that could have inspired countless scribes into a flurry of activity. More shocking, however, was how he could feel himself clinging to your every word, like a dog waiting for scraps. He had been alone for so long, and the reality that a mere mortal considered him, well, mortal enough to converse with was a reality he never imagined contesting with.

But, despite how thrown off he was, there was a certain comfort in the quiet nights you spent together, however inadvertently they came to be. After a life of isolation, he found a purpose in the steady rise and fall of your chest, in the snorting giggles of your laughter, and the way you flipped the edge of your pack to grant him sight, never mind that he was fully capable of viewing the world without it. It was for that reason that the rage in his battered soul waned a fraction, leaving a sliver of room for whatever this was, and the reason his mind refused to release thoughts of your whispered queries, always centered on him, whether it be his health, status as a deity, or happiness.

Farfetched as it was, the Fierce Deity, god of war and blood and death, waited hours for you to wake, unblinking because he would be damned to miss the very moment of your return to the land of the living, the languid stretch your body performed as you groaned softly, rubbing the creases of your eyes with the same gentleness you treated him to. He would study the outfits you wore, committing them all to memory so he could better understand the core of who he considered to be his savior. Maybe then, when he was free, he could begin to repay your kindness–bit by bit, word by word–until distance became more of a myth that him, and your tender warmth could be validated by more than just a paltry mask. Your very breath became his meaning, your soul his muse, and the Fierce Deity was sure he would never forget it.

But in the meantime, perhaps he would remember the words that fell from your mouth, just to prove you right once again.

I can't begin to express how beautiful this felt to write. The Fierce Deity truly is my muse.

ALSO there will be a part two, so keep your eyes peeled!

[bloodstained-ballgowns]

i thought spyfall was awesome when it aired, and tbh it's still awesome now. 'doctor who does james bond' could be super cringe and at points it sort of is, but on the whole they nail the suspense, the score, the double-agent theme.

having prescient knowledge about the master reveal has me practically rubbing my hands together with glee - the look on his face when he sees the tardis. "say hello to the doctor." the smile and look down when she storms past to 'look around the gaff': he's planning to ‘kill’ her (‘kill’ being the operative word since he would never actually let her die) and you can still see the affection. his slow steer of her investigation, her trusting obliviousness. "the only person with an open mind about all this...don't worry, i'll call him ☺️” "send us your location. kisses!" "we text :)!" - girl little do you know you are talking about your psychosexual homoerotic on and off (mostly off) bestie!!!!

love to see jodie in a suit and the bike chase car chase plane chase is pretty well executed. unlike the bbc to broadcast episodes with sex scenes ("kneel" "how else would i get your attention?") before the watershed but i can't help but support. the four knocks/double heartbeat as their morse code message........... i actually can't cope i've decided

“MI6 has never countenanced the possibility of extraterrestrial life” guys come on now this is ridiculous where were you all when black cubes took over the planet and tried to kill you all where were you when missy turned your dead into cybermen where were you when

nice presentation of the fam's resourcefulness when grappling with the eternal 'we're international criminals and the doctor is nowhere to be found what the fuck do we do' question (the beginnings of the doctorification of yaz specifically is strong here). finally realising how much the doctor has really kept from them and the shitty situation that leaves them in - asking 'what would the doctor do?' without knowing why the doctor would do that, because she hasn't truly let them know her any deeper than 'socially awkward supersmart space auntie' (contrasting to, say, clara, who was so exemplary at the wwtdd question exactly because she knew everything about him). i take the doctor/companion conflict wherever i can even if it's crumbs.

[askinkiskarma]

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕍𝕀𝕀: 𝕄𝕒𝕪𝕓𝕖 𝕎𝕖'𝕧𝕖 ℍ𝕒𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕘𝕙

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: You and Neteyam finally confront each other, after a seven year war that left you broken and bruised.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death, confrontation, admission of feelings), smut, strong language.

wc: 7k words

a/n: we're almost at the end, besties. i want to say a massive thank you for being patient with me, i have struggled with writer's block for a while now, and my life is incredibly hectic at the moment, but thank you for continuing to inspire me to write this story that has come to mean so much to me :(. i hope you enjoy this chapter, that i once again somehow feel weirdly insecure about hahaha, and i hope you'll find it was worth the wait. also this is only mildly proof read bc i am exhausted and i need to sleep ;((( i'll come back to it in the morning i promise x (also pls someone comment on the fact in the photo vi's looking up and he's looking down cause you know - rise and fall together and all)

pls don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog and tell me your thoughts, i loveee to hear from you so much!

na'vi compendium: txepvi  - spark, oare - moon, nawm - great, syä - bitter, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, tewng - loincloth, tsakarem - tsa'hik in training, yawne - beloved

: ̗̀➛ previous chapter (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series playlist (x)

I carved my name into your ribcage We talked of lands away from this cage

"Dad always talks about Earth as if it was a dying hole, but... I don't know."

Neteyam's head was positioned snugly in your lap as you both stared intently at the sky, trying to make sense of the shapes of clouds, and the way they passed you by like birds in the night sky, never to be seen again, just a memento of the present and how every moment was unique and precious, and needed to be cherished. You both loved doing that, in between practice sessions, or before, or after, a way to ground you and remind you there's still beauty in this world outside of what you were being taught, of how everything was in preparation for a grisly reality you both struggled to come to terms with.

"Yes?"

"The little videos we've seen, of the movies and shows Norm and Max and the other humans like to watch... and the books they make us read during English lessons and the music... it doesn't seem that bad, you know? It seems they were happy, and... good. It seemed they lived for more than just fighting and greed, more than this."

You thought about it for a while. He was right. Humans were... beautiful, in their own ways. They had love and heart and soul in a way you never thought possible - it seemed there was always beauty to be found even in the darkest of corners, even in the most unsightly of places, and that gave you hope.

"I want to be more than this, too."

Your eyes snapped from the sky to him, and his eyes met yours, boring into you with a vehemence that almost scared you. When he rose from his spot, he faced you, his face so close to yours you could feel his breath fanning over you, and your heart stumbled in your chest at the proximity and the way his smile always managed to take your breath away.

"I want to know more than this. I will learn, and I will work hard, and I will fight, but Vi, one day, you and me, we'll be free of this. Free to do whatever we want, free to spend our days like the humans in the movies, just happy and ourselves. Wouldn't you like that?"

"Yes. I'd like that."

You said, don't fret love, someday I'll be my own man, I'll be free Oh, but darling, did you mean Darling, did you mean free from me?

“O’i’en…” your voice was hoarse and barely there, a croaking whisper you hardly recognised as your own, but still there. You were still here, and at least for that, you were grateful. Because there was more to your life. So much more you wanted to do and see, so much you felt you were made for and deserved, so much you still have to repent and atone for. Your mind was scrambled with visions of your past, so many of them you’ve lost count, the continuous onslaught barely ceasing as you woke, and you still felt like in a liminal state of being, not quite dead, but not quite alive, either. In those dreams, images of your old Neteyam were intertwined with his face now, much colder, much wiser, somehow even more beautiful, and confessions of “I love you” mingled with hushed whispers of “why is she not awake yet?” and commotion beyond your understanding. You needed answers. The battle, that now felt like a lifetime away to you, also somehow felt like it had just finished, and you rose from your spot with only one thought in mind: Oare was hurt. She was shot, and you needed to find her. 

You wondered if it was fate, or Eywa's doing, that O'i'en was the first person you ran into, even as you were trying to avoid any semblance of another soul, the guilt and sadness mingling in you with flashes of worst-case scenarios, ones in which your distracted mind led to deaths that you will forever carry on your shoulders, that you will forever blame yourself for, that you were sure other people would, too, ones which you were too scared to prove and too spent to disprove, so you settled for ignorance and denial, at least until you found your ikran.

"Oh, Eywa, you're alive!" you were taken aback by his surprise, and by his pure, unadulterated relief and happiness as his eyes found your form, limping and bruised, with bloodied and torn garments and yet still... alive. You didn’t think O’i’en would ever want to see you again, much less acknowledge you or talk to you, but here he was, running, as much as he could, the gash in his leg preventing him from any true momentum, but still, he ran to you and enveloped you in a big hug, that you couldn’t help but reciprocate, melting into his all-too-familiar touch that’s always felt comforting and safe, and never bruising or cold.

You sighed as your mind, much as it always did, brought to its forefront another face, another body, another man that never ceased to pull you out of the moment and into whatever fantasy your mind concocted to replace reality with. As you tightened your arms around him, your palms flat against his back, you noticed your fingers being coated in warm liquid, and the feel of it, as well as the smell of metal that hit you immediately after, made you gasp and break the embrace, using whatever force you had to turn him around and inspect the wound you knew had to be bad enough, if so much blood was pouring out of it, but still couldn’t help be shocked when you were proven right. 

“Fuck, your back…”

“I know… I haven’t had the chance to go see the healers yet.” 

“You haven’t ha- are you serious right now? Come, let’s go now.” You almost forgot about the your plan to avoid people, too concerned for the ugly looking gash pulsating blood that trickled down his toned back, until it soaked in his soiled tewng. He didn’t let you move him, instead taking your wrists in his hand and holding you still. 

“You look like you’re about to collapse, how are you still so bossy? Besides… there’s people who need it more than me.” The purple twinge in his cheeks let you know this wasn’t quite the truth. Not the whole truth. O’i’en was the most selfless person you’ve ever met, and yet, this wasn’t the whole truth. You looked tired and broken, scared and forlorn, and yet, with all your might, you tried to contort your face into something you hoped resembled the way Jake would raise the hairs above his eyes in a clearly disapproving expression, and while you lacked the most important aspect of that whole stare, it clearly worked, because he winced and broke the look you shared, choosing a spot on the ground instead. 

“After… everything, I just didn’t know if I could…or should… go get help from the Tsa’hik. It feels like everywhere I look, you follow. I knew you were hurt as well, and I didn’t know if I could handle seeing you like that, or seeing you at all. But now that you’re here, I realise… I’m just happy you’re alive.”

You smiled, a small feat that felt like the hardest task you’ve ever been assigned, but still, you were glad to know there was still something salvageable about your relationship with the man you once thought you’d spent the rest of your life with. 

“Come, sit. I’ll clean the wound myself.”

“You shouldn’t-“ He stopped when he noticed your look. You were too tired to be trifled with, and he was smart enough to know that. 

You promised home, the kind I'd never known But here we are, skin and flesh and beating hearts And I'm wondering what the hell I'm doing wrong

You worked in silence, as much as you could, the thoughts spiralling in your head, worse with each passing second, and although you didn’t want to ask, you knew you couldn’t avoid it any longer, not when he looked so sad and despondent, not when the gash in his back spoke to a battle fiercer than you wanted to picture, not when you couldn’t help wonder if it was all on you. With a sigh, you spoke, and watched as he went rigid with every word uttered.

“What happened, O’i’en?” 

“What do you remember?”

“Nothing. I remember falling… i remember Oare getting shot.” You wince at the memory, at how it was your unsteady, tired, distracted mind that made her a vulnerable target. 

“Nothing else.”

O'i'en's whole body stiffened, and your hand stilled midair, shivers pulsating in your body as dread enveloped it.

“What. Happened. O’i’en?” 

"After you fell... the battle... took a turn for the worse. A lot of Na'vi died, a lot of our mounts died, too..."

"The Olo'eyktan and Tsakarem tried their best, we all did, but without you and Neteyam..."

The guilt that was big enough to almost crumble you into a mess of sobs and broken shards on the ground dulled just for a moment while his words rang in your ears, echoing until they clicked, until you made sense of their meaning.

"Neteyam...? Where was Neteyam, why wasn't he fighting?"

His body turns to face you again, his barely patched-up wound forgotten in the moment that felt ever-lasting, but not like how time stands still as you're enveloped in a kiss, but like a nightmare you can't escape from, where a moment lasts hours, where every scream is expelled in slow-motion and the monsters get closer and closer with each breath that gets lodged in your dry, hoarse throat.

"He tried to catch you, but couldn't. I think he took you back to the village. He didn't return after. They say..."

"They say he hasn't left your tent since. We've all been working, trying to get everyone back, ready for the funeral, but he... he never left the Tsa'hik's tent."

"You're wrong." What he was saying made no sense. Neteyam has done nothing but wish for your demise ever since you were both nothing more than mere children. His hatred never diminished through time, and neither did yours. You both despised each other more and more each day, with every year passed, with every instance in which neither of you relented or found it in you to be better and take the high road. This whole ordeal, this whole nightmare that only started when you woke up, it was his fault. The fact that so many people died, that you were in this state, that Oare.... fuck. Oare.

“Where are you going? You need to take it easy.” 

“I need to find her. I need to make sure she’s ok, she’s probably in pain and suffering and I should be the-“

You stop when you notice his grieving grimace, his eyes fixed on the ground, tears falling at his feet, that you followed from his eyes to their demise as they splattered on the ground, the droplets hitting your ankles in the process. 

“No.” 

Silence. Dead silence. Death silence. Silence that you couldn’t help fill with a crescendo of denial, louder and higher pitched with every new attempt. 

“No, please. Tell me you’re wrong.” 

“I saw her… in the lineup.”

“The lineup?” 

“Of all the dead… dead animals and na’vi. So many of them, i lost count. She was there… I’m so sorry.” 

Your tears mingled with his own as they collapsed on your feet and on the grass, and you forgot for a second of your rule - no crying in front of people. You forgot this as you forgot everything else, even your own name pushed from your memory as it was flooded instead with images of her, of your sister, that you loved so much, that you cherished deeply, that you thought you’d be able to for the rest of your life, that you were now told was gone, taken from you, in spite of you… because of you.

“No…Oare, no…”

“She’s with Eywa now… I’m so sorry.”

You said, "Let's make ourselves our very own brigade, this love our shield, our blade" Oh, but darling do you see the cuts from which I bleed? It's me you've slain

"Have you seen her? Have you seen syä?"

"What do you mean, Lo'ak?"

"She's gone, bro. She's not in grandmother's tent anymore."

Neteyam felt the blood drain from his face and settle at the soles of his feet, trickling through and into the ground, until he was so empty he felt faint, he felt like he would never be the same again. So many emotions tried him, from ecstatic relief that he couldn’t even explain to himself, at the fact that you were awake, and well enough to walk, to paralysing fear that overwhelmed him, at the fact you were out in your state, that you were gone Eywa knows where, at the fact he’s now going to have to face you and talk to you.

Too many things have changed in such a short amount of time, so many things he couldn’t make sense of or understand, too many revelations and the possibility of more, of the truth, that Neteyam dreaded. A lose-lose situation, his dad would call it - either he confronted you and you told him his father misunderstood, that it wasn’t true, that you too loved him the way he loved you, which meant the last seven years of both your lives, everything you have put each other through would have been for nothing, or his father was right, and having a confirmation of your lack of feelings, which is what he thought fuelled your actions all these years, which was a truth he avoided knowing for a fact for so long, and that might be too hard to bear after all.

“We have to find her, grandma said she shouldn’t be walking around.”

“I know where she is.”

He’s always known where you were when you wanted to be alone. He’s always known because it’s a place that used to be his, his secret spot, his uncharted paradise. A place that he showed to you when you were both children, and that became a safe heaven for the both of you in time, that you took from him after your unfortunate fallout. Just one more thing you ended up taking from him in time. He couldn’t have returned to this place anyway, not with all the memories of you that plagued it, that might as well have been enclosed in a room stuck in a past that he never wanted to revisit. 

It took him no time at all to find you, his mind disassociating from the walk, until it was like he blinked and he was there, in the clearing that he dreaded coming to, where the last time he came, he took it too far, the memory of the words that you spat at each other, the way his anger physically manifested itself for the first time in his life, the way he lost control of his emotions and his temper, it was all so ugly and unsightly, it hurt him even thinking about it.

Your back was turned to him as you lay on the edge of the lake, one leg dangling mindlessly in the water, and Neteyam’s heart dropped to his stomach at the sight of you - your hunched shoulders, so far removed from the awe-inspiring, empowered stance you normally displayed to people. Your tail was thrashing furiously from side to side, ears pushed flat against your head that rested on your bent knee, braided hair tousled and unkept as it fell over your face, shielding you from view. Neteyam didn’t even know whether he should speak - if there was still a voice in his throat that could push sounds out, and as he tried, he heard nothing, the only sound in his ears one of muffled, panted breaths and thunderous, erratic heartbeats, that somehow drowned everything else out. 

"Leave."

Neteyam ignored your words, all of his senses focused on your voice, on the sniffles that accompanied it, and what they represented. Neteyam has seen you cry only a couple times in all the time he's known you, and not once since your fallout. He was sure you would have rather swallowed a poisoned knife's blade than show weakness in front of him. He gulped audibly when he realised that if you did, that means you knew... if you did, there was no escaping the wrath that was currently embedded in your soul, that he wasn't sure would ever leave you again.

“Why are you here? You should be resting.”

He heard you scoff, bitterness laced through your voice that normally was sweet as a yovo fruit on a summer day, that now felt spoilt, like it had been left rotting on the ground, with no one the wiser.

“Since when do you care about my wellbeing, huh? Last thing I knew I could be dead in a ditch and you’d probably throw a party and dance over my grave. Leave me be, I don't want to deal with you right now.” 

"Txepvi... Just co-"

"Don't you dare call me that. You have long forsaken the right to call me that. Just fucking leave, Neteyam."

He felt anger pricking at him like a dagger he was all too familiar with, that was dull and middling, but whose sting still hurt if pushed into his skin at the correct angle, in the right spot, where he was weak.

"I'm not leaving until you get back to the tent. Tsa'hik's orders." That was a lie, but one he felt at liberty to make, since it was quite certain his grandmother would want you back resting, and not galavanting in the woods, with a wound that almost killed you, that made you easy prey for the apex predators lurking in the thick foliage.

I didn't obliterate these walls for you to come and raid my home And here you are right next to me Ironically, I've never felt more alone

“Why did you stay with me?” 

Whatever anger he had immediately dissipated like droplets water of a hot day, replaced by the same fear that was plaguing him early, that not even the adrenaline coursing through his veins could overpower. What was he supposed to say? It's not like he had an answer to give you - he couldn't even conceptualise it for himself, much less put it into words that would make sense, that would ever satisfy your morbid curiosity.

“Answer me, Neteyam.” 

“I don’t know.” 

You rose from your spot on the edge of the lake, and when you turned to face him and your eyes locked, his breath lodged in his throat. You looked anguished, sadder than he's ever seen you, puffy eyes so red, it scared him, cheeks purple and stained, and swollen, wet lips opened to accommodate the heaved breaths and quiet sobs that you tried your hardest to push down, so that he wouldn't see.

It was too late, now. He could see. He could see it all, and it scared him, what you were doing to him, these feelings that were rushing down with enough force to make him buckle under their weight, just like a waterfall that crashed into the river below, warping it with its power.

“No, we’re not doing this shit anymore. My ikran is dead. People are dead, Neteyam. All because of us, because this stupid war, that you caused. That you started. I’m done with the games, and the mystery, and your stupid mouth staying shut. You don’t know? Figure it out. Now.”

I fell for you faster than I fell apart And I guess I'm the one to blame for letting myself fall too hard

"I don't fucking know, OK? I just needed to - fuck. I needed to make sure you'll live."

"Why?! Why the fuck would you care if I live or die? Why? You haven't cared for more than half our lives, and now, when you would have been more useful on the battlefield, when you could have prevented this mess that you caused to begin with, now you want to play the fucking hero?"

“That I started? Are you hearing yourself right now? I wasn’t the one that pushed, and pushed, and pushed until whatever thread it was that still bound us together turned from wool to steel and snapped, yawne. You made it your life purpose to ruin mine, at every turn, in every way imaginable, for years. I did nothing to you, damn it. I just stopped talking to you. I didn’t hurt you, or purposefully tried to make you ache or suffer, I tried to keep my mouth shut and go about my life, without infringing on yours. I didn’t do anything to hurt you, for fuck’s sa-“

“You keeping your mouth shut and going about your life as if your life wasn’t impermeably connected to mine was what fucking hurt me, Neteyam! You saying nothing, doing nothing, acting like I didn’t exist, like I was just a toy you outgrew, that was worse than anything I could have ever fucking done to you, don’t you understand that? Do you understand that you abandoned me? Me, Neteyam, the person who was always there for you, the person who always had your back. Your best friend, your confidant, your training buddy, your sister. I was everything to you, and you just acted like that meant nothing at all."

"It meant everything! And my father fucking ruined it, and you ruined it. You ruined it, and I'll never, ever forgive you." the intensity behind his eyes, glistening with unshed tears that reflected the rays of the sun hitting his golden irises, the ones that put stars to shame and brought you to your knees, scared you. You came here to cry, and let it out. You came here to mourn. You didn't expect this. Didn't want this. But, for the first time in years, Neteyam was talking to you. Neteyam was telling you truths buried deep within his soul, deep behind walls you've tried to climb and pierce through longer than you wanted to admit to, and given the little crack of light you saw shine through, you knew you couldn't let this opportunity pass you by.

"What do you mean?"

He looked tired, you realised faintly. It was true... he did stay with you. His face was sunken and caved in, dark purple bags under his eyes, and you traced the tears that brightened his tanhì momentarily, as they caressed his skin, before falling down his neck.

"Tell me it's not true, what you said to him all those years ago. Tell me he didn't hear you right. That he misunderstood."

"Who?"

"My dad. I heard him... telling my grandmother that you'd never want to mate with me. Or be Tsa'hik. He said you said that. Tell me he was wrong. Tell me I was wrong for believing him. Tell me I was an idiot for not coming to you sooner, for shutting you out of my life. For letting this break me. Please."

Shock stilled you in your spot, replacing blood with current that electrified every ounce of your being. What? After all this time, so much time that kids were born and grew up, time in which you watched Tuk go from barely a babe to a bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, beautiful girl, time in which you gained and lost your ikran, in which you gained a family and lost the future you thought you were always made for, next to the person you thought you'd always have your back... so much time has passed, and to hear it, the reason, was so unbelievable it didn't feel like it was real. You thought about the conversation that he was referring to, that you had with Jake in what feels like a completely life to the one you were currently living. He did ask you, and you did say...

"He wasn't wrong."

I ripped my heart out and put it in your hands in hopes that we'd put up a fight How paradoxical, since now all I can think about is when will we stop trying

You watched as the intensity on his face was decimated in an instant, his eyes blank and distant as all life seemed to drain from them as you spoke words that you spat without truly even thinking about it. Oare's death, still so fresh in your mind, hurt so much, made every fibre of your being scream in agony, and this new revelation, of the reason of her death being attributed to something you said as a little kid in passing, that he overheard and never bothered to fact-check, made what little sanity you had left to evaporate and what remained was a bitter precipitate of fury and pain, that you wanted him to feel, that you needed to inflict.

"This is why Oare's dead? This is why so many people are dead, because of one comment I made to your father seven years ago in passing? Are you fucking kidding me?"

Your teeth were bared as you spoke, and the emptiness behind his eyes was replaced with furious anger as he listened, as he realised you had no intention of putting his mind or heart at ease, as you realised he didn't deserve it. Not after everything that's happened, not after the way your soul crashed and imploded inside your body at the guilt that ate you alive, that churned and ground your bones into fine dust, guilt that will never, ever leave you.

“I was just a fucking child, don’t you understand that? Do you understand how insane it is to punish me for something that happened when I was just twelve years old?!"

“Well, you know what? I was also just twelve years old! And I loved you, Vi.” The break in his voice hurt you, like a shard of glass plunged in the soft of your skin, and you looked down to try to see if blood was coming out of the wound that wasn't there. There was nothing. Just emptiness, like the vast chasm that separated you, that always will, no matter the fact he was so close to you, you could feel his breath over your face, your scent in your nostrils, his glistening eyes big as planets, eyes you could get lost in easily, you could fall into as easily as falling asleep.

Seeing the unshed tears once more made tears gather in your own. The nickname, that you haven’t heard in all these years, that felt like a relic from a life long forgotten, long forsaken, knocked the air out of you, just as much as his vulnerability, that you weren’t used to seeing anymore did.

“I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.” 

“I had to watch you prove me right every day of my life. Watched as you fought every day to push me away from my own family, and my own dad, who obviously always found you better than me. Watched as you moved on, with no issue, and dated Na’vi after Na’vi, letting them touch you and kiss you, knowing I could see it, in practice, where I always was, I- “

“You fucking did the same thing! You pushed me away, you never talked to me. You abandoned me, without as much as a goodbye. Without any explanation. You fucked girls anywhere I could see, behind my tent, so I could hear you. You chose them all so they bore no resemblance to me, so I could know how much you hated me, every time I saw their faces. You ruined my relationship with the one person who loved me, who was good for me. You fu-"

All you do is blindside me, it's hard to be brave But when the night cuts into the day, it's your love I crave I must've thanked my lucky stars too much They left me sitting in too much dust

Your sentence was cut short by a pair of lips crashing into yours, soft and desperate, clinging on to you like his fingers were wrapped tightly around your throat, like if letting go was unimaginable, like it was too painful to envision. In your dreams, Neteyam's lips were bruising and calloused and cold, and no matter how fiercely you wanted to protest, no matter how much you hated yourself for it, they were the only lips you ever dreamt about. And yet right now, they were nothing like you imagined, nothing like you feared, and despite the hurt, and the pain and the anguish and the anger, despite it all, you couldn't help reciprocating, couldn't help the moan the left you as his other hand found your hips, holding you impossibly closer, while your own hands found the back of his neck and his hair, that you tugged on until he growled. When he broke the kiss and looked at you, hunger and ache clear in his bright eyes, that looked more black than yellow as his hand found your jaw, that he lifted to tilt your head back, pushing his thumb past your lips so you'd keep quiet, you let out a small whimper, and watched as his pupils dilated even more, almost overtaking his beautiful, molten irises.

"Just...Stop talking."

His lips found the place on your jaw where his fingers just were, and the feeling of him on you burned like molten lava, and you push your head back, giving him access to all of you. Your mind felt numb - a battle within itself as it was trying to come to terms with all the  crushing emotions that were fighting for dominion over your thoughts and your soul, each one more devastating than the last - from the guilt that you knew would plague you for the rest of your life, that you didn’t think you’d ever be able to overcome, to the grief of losing your spirit sister, to confusion over what you were doing, over wondering if this was a mistake, to the sadness at Neteyam’s confession and the knowledge he loved you, and you pushed him away without meaning to, to earth-shattering anger at the realisation that this whole ordeal started over nothing and could have been solved if he only ever talked to you and finally, to the hatred that still blossomed, even after all this time, and finally, the desire, pure, unadulterated desire to have him, to be owned, to know what it feels like to be wholly his. You didn’t know which one would win, but you could only hope there’ll still be something left of you when the battle found its victor in the midst of all the chaos. 

He was rough as he pushed you until you tipped backwards, but his caress was gentle as he caught you and made sure you weren't hurt as your body hit the damp, soft grass. When he spread your legs and kneeled in between them, you knew you whatever ounce of self-restraint you had was swiftly thrown out the window, and you knew the relief you'd get to feel once he was done with you would be worth the regret in the morning - at least, it felt so right now. His fingers dug into your thighs as they massaged upwards, from your shins to your hips, and when both his thumbs caressed the sensitive spot at the edge of your loincloth, your breath hitched in your throat, silently begging him for more, hoping he wouldn't make you say words out loud you could never take back.

As if he could hear your thoughts, he spoke, his hands stilling on the knot of your tewng.

"Tell me you want this. I need to know you want this, or I stop."

You hissed at him, conflicted beyond words and reason, because no, of course you didn't. But yes, you did. Of course you did.

"I hate you. I fucking hate you, Neteyam."

At your words, his hands dropped from your hips and in an instant, he was on top of you, his gaze stopping the breath in your lungs as he looked at you, his hand gripping your throat once more, the aggressive gesture at odds with the softness in his eyes and the way he was caressing your jaw in barely-there touches with his thumb.

"I hate you more. So much more. I still need an answer, yawne."

You stared daggers at him, and refused to talk, but as you wrapped your fingers around his cummerbund and pulled him in, until his lips met yours in a messy kiss of teeth and tongues, throbbing deep in you at the way he moaned in your mouth, you knew words were meaningless, and words couldn't convey the feelings that tormented you, anyway. You reached for his tewng and masterfully unwrapped it, feeling his cock spring free and slap against your abdomen, and the weight of it made you gasp, a smirk erupting from his face in response.

You needed him. You needed him to numb the pain the he created, that you created, you needed the emptiness that came from being filled to the brim, the fleeting peace that would come with the high that you knew he could provide, because it hurt. It all hurt, and you couldn't stand it. You reached your hand and wrapped your fingers around his length, your slick leaving a wet patch in the fabric, that was increasing in size by the second, just at the thought of how he'd feel stretching you out. He let out a small groan at the way you were caressing him, running your thumb over the slit, smearing the precum that was leaking, that you felt a sudden urge to taste.

"F-fuck!"

"Take off my tewng, Neteyam."

"For once in your life, you will not get to dictate how this goes."

Despite his words, he listened, and you winced at the weight of his body being lifted off you, instantly missing the contact and comfort it provided. But he wasn't gone long, as he removed your clothes, and you tried not too think of how good his gaze felt on you, how empowering the desire in his eyes as he took you in, how he had to lick his lips and swallow audibly, as if he was a starved man in a desert, and you were his fata morgana.

He took no time in attaching himself to you again, the thick head of his cock prodding at your entrance, and the velvety feel of him against your folds involuntarily makes you shut your eyes closed and your head push back, need heightening at the way he starts licking and sucking at your breast, leaving purple marks in the wake of his lips and tongue, that you want on every inch of you, that you wanted to cum on as he made your knees buckle and your vision spot.

His face finds a home in the crook of your neck as he slides inside you, taking his time to feel you, every inch of your walls, as they stretched to accommodate for his size, and it feels so good, too good, his cock in you, his tail around your thigh, his fingers tracing soothing patterns on your skin, or gripping at your waist, his breath on your neck, his teeth sinking in you so he could stop himself from telling you all the confessions bubbling in his chest, all the ways it's all making sense to him now, that he's never hated you, he's just hated not having you, not being able to call you his. Still, as he bottoms out in you, he can't help some of them from spilling out, the dam of his heart slowly coming apart at the seams.

"It had to be someone who had no resemblance to you. It had to, Vi. Don't you understand? Because any time I looked at anyone, I saw you in them. Their eyes, or lips, their tanhì or stripes, even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."

You did understand. You understood too well. That's why you chose O'i'en. Because he was nothing like the Neteyam you came to know in the years you became an adult. Because his touch was warm and made you feel nothing. Because his eyes bore no resemblance to his, the glimmer of amber nothing like the green flickers that felt like were Eywa's inspiration for the forest that surrounded you; O'i'en's tanhì were scattered like light through the leaves and branches of the trees, unlike Neteyam's, which were like the star dust that created all life in the Universe, that shone brighter than any light post, that shone so brightly, they led you home every night when you were young.

The tears gathered in your eyes as he started a steady pace of his hips, conflicting feelings tugging at the string of your already broken and torn apart heart, whose heart beats felt dragging and echoing, different to the two sounds you were used to, instead pulsating three syllables throughout your whole body, enveloping you and taking over your mind, forcing you to come to terms with issues you thought you buried so deeply, you'd never have to see again.

I hate you. I love you. I hate you. I love you. I hate you, I hate you....

I love you.

"Neteyam..."

"I know. You're doing so well for me. So well. Fuck, you feel so, so good."

You moan at his words, the desire bubbling inside of you quickly reaching heights you wouldn't mind falling from, being pushed from, so you could feel the euphoria that came along with falling, without having to worry about the inevitable crash that would follow, at least not right now.

"I can feel you squeezing me. Come for me, yawne. I need to feel you come all over my cock."

For the first time since he's called you that, the term of endearment didn't feel ironic or facetious, and for once in your life, you had no problem obeying his orders - when you came, you came violently, legs shaking and back arched, whimpers and moans pushing past your lips unrestrained, and the sounds made his cock twitch inside of you, his own orgasm so close he could taste it. He lets you ride your high fully before pulling out of you, thick ropes of iridescent cum painting your abdomen and chest, that, in your fucked out mind, you almost wish painted your still-throbbing walls instead.

You know all my dreams, you were one, so it seemed And I love you but with you, it's heartache I breathe You gave it your all, just with everything you took from me

It was almost... domestic, the way he was asleep peacefully next to you, his breath so steady and deep, and so relaxed, it almost sounded like purring, his strong, muscular arms holding you close as you lay on your back, looking at the stars, bright, blurry orbs through the distorted lens of your tears, that couldn't stop falling, no matter how much you willed them away. The crash did come eventually, in the few hours since, and it felt like it broke all your bones in the process.

"You and me, we're meant to rise and fall together."

Those words, that became the overarching theme of your relationship, words that you never realised when you spoke them as a child that you would both take so literally, rang in your ears like a broken record your mind could no longer turn off. You were right, all those years ago. Even back then, you knew. You and Neteyam did rise together. From children to adults, from pupils to teachers, from toy soldiers to hardened warriors, rose you did, until you were so high up, the air was thin and suffocating. But nothing compared to your penchant for falling. You fell hard, from grace, from cloud nine, for the other's other schemes and plots, for your own compulsions, obsessions and greedy desires, and mostly, for each other. Your relationship was fire and ice, it was everything and nothing all at once, a war you fought and a war you lost, a war in which innocents had to die and lives were lost, a war you were finally tired of.

You and Neteyam rose and fell together, over and over again, your whole lives. A twisted carousel that wouldn't stop until one of you jumped off it, and with Oare's death, and the shame that followed it, you finally realised it had to be you.

In the early hours of the morning, after a quick wash in the cold lake, you found your way back to the village and straight to the Tsa'hik's tent. You were happy to see her, and nervous to talk, but you knew the quicker you got it out, the quicker it would be over. So with a deep breath, you spoke your piece, and hoped she'd listen.

“Ma Tsa’hik. I’m here to ask you to let me out of this arrangement. Please. I can’t do this, not with Neteyam. I’m done.”

Oh, my love Is this the end for us? Maybe we've had enough

taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @afro-hispwriter @soleilmoon @crazy4books1 @bakugouswaif@randxmthxughts @xreadersstuff @sirezaya @kimberlyshailany-blog @gyuventure @jujudsmyst @kikookii @nxptury @nonniesworld @koing-slvt @bakugouswaif @isnt-itstrange @tpwkforevermore @alahamums @tallulah477 @gknj9495@aquamarine001 @itssomeonereading @yumimak@sweetbread-m@eqgroil @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @juneonhoth @yagirlheree @jackiehollanderr @legendarynoodlebowl @iameatingmyhair @justasimps-blog@hannabanana-09 @xylianasblog @misscaller06 @yeosxxx @myh3artttt @teyamsbitch@musicownsme @i-live-in-a-fantasy-daydream @zoetrope1997 @itsmy-alteregohere @ntymavtr @curlszx88 @maki-z @riatesullironalite @baahsaama @luna-salem @teyamtesuli @koing-slvt @call-me-doll-face @puresirius-things @saturniac @call-me-doll-face @dreaming-of-the-reality @whorefortim

(sorry if i missed anyone this list is getting so longgg)

[psychesalcove]

„ i think we're one of the same, i don't think we could help it (no i don't think we could help it) ”

𝜗𝜚 headcanons with percy with a child of amphitrite and their dynamic!!

requested: yes, by anon !!

⚠️: not proofread AT ALL, percy being sassy as usual, nothing else i believe!!

💬: thank you so much for the request anon!! I decided to do some headcanons with this, which I hope is okay with you—if not, feel free to send in another ask and I'll get to writing it!! ALSO i thought i had uploaded it but i just saved it to my drafts, so im so sorry for not seeing my mistake sooner!!

𖹭 some background info on this, amphitritea is the wife of poseidon—so this dynamic would be like step siblings in my mind, so that's what I'm going on!!

𖹭 when you first got to camp, percy emideantaly felt like he should get to know you–he didn't know why, but something about you seemed familiar in a way he couldn't place

𖹭 so ofc, like the social butterfly he is, he goes up to you and introduces himself to you,

𖹭 you already know of him bc of the whole savior of olympus and forbidden child thing going on, but you introduce yourself to him

𖹭 he invites you to sit with him so you don't have to be dangling off the hermes table bc of all his kids, and you happily agree

𖹭 the next few days, you are off doing your own things, but you and percy still say hi and stuff when you see eachother

𖹭 about a week has passed since you arrived, and still no sign from your godly parent

𖹭 and, literally no one could figure out who's kid you might be (even my girl annabeth was struggling with you)

𖹭 it was canoe race day, and you got paired up with percy (he def didn't beg Mr. D to have you in his group)

𖹭 you and percy were doing well in it (obv since he's a literal child of the sea), and you two ended up winning

𖹭 and, as percy moved to high-five you, a familiar blue glow appeared above you,

𖹭 you look up, and see a symbol of twin dolphins, the sign of Amphitrite, the wife of poseidon

𖹭 both you and percy were both shocked (probably him more than you)

𖹭 but, he quickly got over his shock and high fived you super hard

𖹭 "you're my sibling oh my gods oh my gods!!"

𖹭 he's like actually so happy when you got claimed

𖹭 but, he knows it can be hard getting used to being in a cabin alone after being with the hermes kids, so he helps you all he can

𖹭 this includes him helping you decorate your space, either with Polaroids of you and your mortal parents and friends, getting fairy lights hung up, and getting some stuffed animals on your bed, and a lot more things

𖹭 he wants you to know that you can always come to him for anything at all!! Even if it is a crush (even tho he knows you would go to piper for that)

𖹭 he would have so much fun introducing you to Tyson,

𖹭 like the three of you would be besties omg

𖹭 you and percy would also do that trend where you make bracelets with eachothers eye color (tyson would have one 2 don't worry 🙏)

𖹭 and both of you would religiously wear them and almost never take them off unless it's deemed unsafe to be wearing)

𖹭 percy would also make you practice with him, mainly bc he wants to be sure that you are prepared if any monster invasion happens or you get sent on a quest

𖹭 on the topic of a quest, he would be like a dad with a teenager going to their first dance or party

𖹭 he's actually so worried for you and what could happen; he's constantly asking if you have everything packed, if you brought enough ambrosia, etc.

𖹭 he'll def talk to chiron and Mr D abou the quest saying that he should also be able to go on it

𖹭 and then he gets all pissy when he can't come

𖹭 he's like: "wdym I can't go with them ☹️🙄😠"

𖹭 ALSO sally absolutely adores you

𖹭 he brought you over to his apartment for the first time and introduced Sally to you and BAM

𖹭 sally now has three kids, along with paul

𖹭 she's also worried whenever you have to go on quests, she makes you food and gets everything you need ready like omg I need sm like her

𖹭 you and percy have also definitely gone to some type of water park and just like,

𖹭 bullied all of the kids there with your water powers

𖹭 but then u guys get kicked out for being too loud and in the lifeguards words, "loitering"

𖹭 you both had to look that word up on Google afterwards

𖹭 percy and you also have sleepovers sooo often

𖹭 mr D at first tried to get you 2 to stop having them

𖹭 but you guys were like "we're siblings we share the same cabin wdym we have to be in different cabins 🤨🤨"

𖹭 percy and you also have beds set up in eachothers cabin that's just, yours or his bed

𖹭 and when you have the sleepovers, the two of you make the best pillow fort known to kind (you probably got the idea from annabeth)

𖹭 on the topic of annabeth, you two would emideantaly become besties

𖹭 percy will never tell either of you but he got a bit jealous of you guys when you first met

𖹭 you'll probably become friends with all of the 7 bc of your relationship with percy (I say that the 7 are all friends no one could make me think otherwise)

𖹭 percy and you have little hangouts where you chill at the bottom of the lake and just chat ab anything — even with the animals down there

𖹭 the two of you also have def went to an aquarium and made everyone think your psychos bc you talked to all of the animals there

𖹭 overall, percy thinks of you as his sibling, and loves knowing that you'll always have eachothers side <3

[smolvenger]

The Tavern Prince (Prince Hal x fem! Y/N Oneshot)

Summary: You are shocked and unhappy to find out you are betrothed to notorious rake, Prince Hal. But one evening, he sneaks you into the Boar's Head Tavern...and your mind about him starts to change.

Warnings: Smut at the end!! 18+ NSFW! (thigh riding, fingering, loss of virginity, dirty talk, good ol' p in v). Reader is super Proper and Prim and has a stick up her butt just because I wanted her to in this fic for the drama and tension of paring her with Hal (and I'm sick of Pick Me Girls in Historic Fiction. So Much) Mentions of sex and cheating (but no actual cheating, our boy would never. Trust me, I'm a Shakespeare expert). Not believable, but we're running on vibes, not accuracy so forget that couples were chaperoned or whatever. References to Shakespeare's plays and words (like "Die"= slang for orgasm and "wag"= boy).

Word Count: 9K (get some water, besties, and whores)

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract (smut starts at "sweetest of ladies" and ends at "Hal...I have no words.." btw bestie for your comfort) @eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@muddyorbsblr

“Y/N, we have something very exciting to announce. The king has given his consent. You are going to marry the prince…” your father announced to you at the table. Your mother nodded her head beside him. 

You let a smile spread across your face. You were so thrilled you held your breath for a second. This was an honor beyond anything you could comprehend of what he would say. How many would want that honor? What woman didn’t want to be a princess? There were many princes in the world, but it had to be one of the English princes. They couldn’t mean some other country. The English king had four sons- which one was your groom? Likely not the youngest two- Humphrey and Thomas. They were boys, far too young for marriage. 

That meant- the second eldest son! You interrupted in your excitement.

“Oh! I am to marry John of Lancaster! Oh, mother-father! How wonderful! He’s the sweetest youth- and he is always at each meeting with his father, the king! Oh, what a good husband he will be! I am so hap-”

“Y/N, I believe you misunderstood us,” your mother cut in. 

You froze, blinking quickly.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “I’m not marrying a prince?”

“No, you are…” replied your mother.

If not Humphrey, if not Thomas, if not John…that left one English prince.  

They smiled and took your hands across the table. 

“The one who matters. The one who will make you one day queen of England through your union…”

Oh no, you thought, God’s blood, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, please, please oh Lord Above- please not him please not-

“You betrothed to his grace, the Prince of Wales, Henry Lancaster…”

It felt like a punch. You blinked, and your voice got smaller.

“You mean…Prince Harry?”  you asked.

“Oh, yes, dear girl! Our daughter- Princess of Wales and then Queen of England!” your mother cooed. She went up and hugged you. Not that she could see the frown growing on your face.

Your father kissed your forehead. You put on a small smile. A practice one when they were looking. You swallowed it back. 

You should have been thrilled to find out you were marrying the prince of Wales, the heir to England, to Bolingbroke, to the Lancasters. Your rational mind knew it was a huge honor.

But married to Prince Harry- no, Hal! That was what his vile friends all called him! Seems fit you should think of him as such!

Hal, the rake. The riotous son. The dishonorable son. The one with a dozen prostitutes at his heels! He even wore a glove from one to a joust once!  The rebel. The drunk. The prankster. The scoundrel. The son his father wished could be swapped for another- everyone knew that. The reason why John of Lancaster was always in court? Because Hal was so little seen in the castle and at events and never appeared! Shirking his responsibilities to hang around bars! With seedy thieves and criminals and who knows what else!

You were not strangers. You had spoken with him the few times he had been in court. Your parents were good friends and old allies of Henry Bolingbroke before the chaotic events that crowned him.  The few banquets Hal appeared, you were there. He only appeared at that ball a few days ago. You did have a dance with him. He spoke some, no more than polite subjects and small talk. But he seemed bored. Perhaps his father was breathing down his neck not to sneak out. 

This was to be your husband?!! And this was to be the king?! The one not even his own father could be proud of?!  Bound to until only Death did you Part!?

When you went to your private quarters, and no one was around, you went to your bed and screamed into your pillow. 

You could already see your married life. Picture it in your head. Princess Y/N and Prince Hal, soon King Hal and Queen Y/N. The banquets would be a mess. Late into the night, there would be crowds of dirty, smelly people. Laughing with food still in their mouths and spitting and pissing all over the banquet halls. There would be thieves trying to reach to grab the jewels on you. Or try to grope you, only there would be no protection. So many drunkards vomiting all over the pretty stone hallways and throwing rocks through the tall windows. 

Your waking vision of your future spiraled further in your head. You knew you would have separate quarters. You would have to go alone- you knew your husband's bed would have one if not two if not four ladies of the night to pleasure him until dawn. Or he would go into your room, bold and drunk with liquor and lust. He had the right to barge in when he wanted now. 

It made you want to cry.  

Three days later, there was a celebratory dinner at the castle for the betrothal announcement. All of you sat down. You were decked in a dark green dress and some jewelry given to you. To make you seem more regal. Not that it made you feel that way. You sat with your family, the King of England wrapped in his dark furs. The three younger Lancaster brothers all looked at you with small smiles- perhaps looking forward to having a sister-in-law. There was just one very crucial seat next to you left empty.

Of course, once the wine was poured and dishes were just set, in strode in, red leather jacket, hat, and all, none other than your intended.

You hated that he was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. An ivory face with tall cheekbones, a high forehead, and blue eyes. Tall and lean. He waltzed in with a slight smirk. His arms dangling back and forth so casually. A slight smile on his face.

“I apologize, I am late, I know!” he announced.

The king stood up, his hands over his thick, dark robe on his hips. Following him, everyone else rose up 

“Harry-where have you been?! We were just about to dine at your betrothal dinner!” he chided.

“Only getting ready, father! I wanted to be more presentable-” he insisted, still standing.

“You will be punctual in the future, especially to show respect to your bride!” the king added on, gesturing to where you sat.

You only looked down at your plate. Bride, bride, bride. Once you thought of the word like a dream, like the word “fairy.” Something light and lilting- surreal and beautiful. Something you could attain too. But it only made your stomach curl.

 You could feel Hal’s eyes, already on you. Then he walked forward and pulled out the chair next to you.

As the king sat down, all sat down. 

Everyone began to eat. You barely could look at Hal. When you did, you found his eyes would drift up to see you. Then at once, you pulled yours down. Then your mother boasted of you.

“Our daughter- she was raised in a convent as any lady should be. The nuns all praised her as a good student- so quiet, ladylike, and diligent in her studies. She is learning all the dances done at parties. Oh- and her needlework is wonderful!”

You stood up, nodding.

“Yes! I sewed on little strawberries on my handkerchief! And I am making some new needlework of a pink rose, like the ones in the springtime-”

Your voice cut you off. Aware you were gushing so much. It wasn’t just the fact that the king watched. He was so used to his sons that a younger female presence was fascinating. King Henry the Fourth himself looked at you with a smile and soft eyes.

No- because Hal was listening and watching. you swallowed and looked next to you. Hal’s face was neutral. He leaned on the table, a mouth over his lip, scratching his chin. You saw him swallow a little and then look back down at his meal.

He didn’t like you. Didn’t even like you, you knew it. He was already thinking of how boring you were! You did have a cousin named Beatrice. She was the one who was climbing trees, and talking saucily to everyone and rebelling and speaking and laughing wildly. If only she wasn’t married by now! Then your family would throw her Hal’s way and they would be happy! If he had to marry at all, it should be someone like her! Not like…not like…not like you…He wouldn’t like you, either. You were sure. Calling you boring just because you prioritized manners and decency. Laughing at your sewing and the dresses you cherished so much. 

“Oh, I am sure they are quite pretty, Y/N. And what think you, Harry?” the king asked.

Hal perked up.

“They…they should be.” he replied. 

Copying what his father said .Of course.  He took another bite and then he put a hand over his mouth again.

“Now- we must set a date for these children. What dates shall you say?” the king asked.

You and Hal shared a look and then perked up.

“We want enough time to prepare a decent wedding, of course. And to prepare them. Yet…the new Lancaster family must be secured through another heir, we know…” your father replied.

You could have thrown up the wine in your stomach. You looked down, not daring to see the look on Hal’s face. 

“I agree. And my son must settle- therefore, I say two months from now shall give us enough time,” the king confirmed.

Two months?! It seemed so short. Not even time to come around to it. 

You always wanted romance. To be wooed and won and courted. You dreamed of the day love would finally shine in some man’s eyes as he fell to his knees and begged for your heart and hand. Not thrown away to a scoundrel who didn’t like you.

“Now- don’t you be so worried, dear daughter,” the king consoled.

You looked up, and you saw him smile kindly at you.

“I remember the days I was nervous about my nuptials, too. Do not be afraid, lady Y/N- you will leave your family, but you will have a new one. Think of me more of a father here than king. You shall have me and three brothers who will look after you and be sure you want for nothing, my dear. And therefore…”

His eyes shot to Hal.

“If this rapscallion does anything to you before the marriage- hurts you. Breaks your heart-anything. You shall come to me and ask to end the betrothal, and you will have my blessing.”

Hal’s jaw dropped.

You gave the king a smile, a genuine one.

“Thank you, your grace.”

You went back down to your food, eating with more of a flourish. Hal then turned to you. It was the first few words he spoke directly to you that night. You braced for a bawdy joke about your wedding night from him, but there was none.

“We do have confits, here, my lady- would you like to try some?” he asked.

He offered you a golden bowl full of little sweets. They were tiny white spheres. He pressed the bowl your way as you peeked in.

“I’ve never had any,” you remarked.

“They are well, after dinner.“Here- try some,” he said,

You popped one in your mouth. And let out a sound of appreciation. They were very light and sweet, you nodded your head.

“Hm- very nice. And they are…sweet, my lord,” you commented.

You took another one as the servants arrived to clear your plates.

The next day was a formal announcement. It would be put on the doors of every church. And all of the court was gathered to watch with their rich cloaks and jewels glinting in the sun. 

In Hal stumbled. How pale he looked- no doubt still hungover. He looked at you and he stopped. Then he stepped forward. You felt as if it was a wedding ceremony already and it made lightning 

“We hereby announce an engagement- his majesty, Henry of Lancaster and the Lady Y/N will be married in two months time. Though they are already married in our eyes- we shall congratulate them on their union and the nuptials to follow,” announced the king to applause.

He turned to you both. He gave his son strict instructions, his eyes stern.

“Now Harry- kiss her and call her your princess,” ordered the king.

Hal looked down on you. He licked his lips, looking down at yours. Dear lord- was he about to kiss you before everyone! You instintually jerked a little away. He froze. Hesitated. He lowered his mouth and then set it tight shut again. Then your intended whispered in your ear.

“The cheek?”

You paused. It didn’t sound as bad as the lips.

“Yes,” you answered. 

He gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek with it seemed half of England to witness. 

This is began. Four long weeks of learning everything one had to know of being a princess. Learning French to converse with ambassadors, the history of the throne, the order of the servants, current matters, in addition to etiquette (which you took to very well) and so many things your head spun. Numerous formal public events where you had to stand by Hal and pretend you were a smiling, happy bride. Swallowing back what you really thought of him.

 Only talking to him when required. 

You didn’t doubt tha the didn’t like you.

No doubt he wishes he was off in Esatcheap, you thought. He doesn't even tolerate me.

All of your life, you did what you were told. It kept the peace. You never asked for much- just to be safe and content. Hopefully one day, maybe one day, fall in love with some nice gentleman and  marry him. A nice, peaceful, happy life. But instead- you had him?! Why couldn’t it be John instead? Or some foreign prince! One who didn’t get drunk constantly!

One day, you had time to yourself. You sat there with your embroidery, putting the pink thread in and out of the white cloth. Glad it could relieve the stress of your mind. In walked Hal, he was a member of the family now and was welcome in and out of your home. You only looked up, acknowledging him. 

“How are you, my lady?” he asked.

“I have been quite busy.” you answered.

He didnt have his cap, but kept on his red leather jacket and dark pants. His auburn curls that shone like amber when he walked by a ray of sunlight. And how…well fitting his jacket was on him. There was something stirring on you when you looked at him that you didn’t like. Attraction and yet also disgust.

“What did you…do this morning, my lady?” he asked. He fiddled with his hands placed on his lap.

He was forcing himself to spend time with you- you knew it. Just trying to be nice, pretending to be nice.

“Said my prayers, Ate breakfast. Wrote a few letters. I had a walk about…” you reported.

“That sounds very nice, Y/N,” he replied.

He sat up. Folding his arms, he leaned against the wall. He gave you a smile as he looked down on you, licking his lips. You had a guess as to what his thoughts were now. But here, without a thousand eyes watching over you, you could indulge in bluntness. 

“And you, no doubt, enjoyed your morning with your whores from the London streets,” you sniped, pulling the pink thread through again. “We might as well be honest with each other if our parents want us to marry, Hal. Expecting fidelity from you is like expecting a fish to sprout wings and feathers. I’m saving myself the disappointment.” 

You  kept your eyes down. Ready to stitch in the next one when Hal said-

“I have not lain with whores…”

You turned your face to meet his, and found his eyes hardening. His smile dropped. He stood up from leaning against the wall. You found your own mouth opening a little, though the words struggled to come out.

“What…what did you say?” you asked. You weren’t sure if you heard it right.

“I…I have not lain with a whore in…five months, Y/N. I will tell you that…”

Guilt burned inside you. You turned your eyes down.

“Oh…I’m sorry…my mistake…” you wished earnestly. “I just know how your…reputation of…you know…”

“I cannot blame you that…” he commented.

You kept sewing, with a bit more fervor. You saw Hal out of the corner of your eye get closer to you, sitting beside you. 

“You are always busy, my lady. Always doing something. Don’t think I do not notice how you study everything one must know to…to… I hardly see you smile.” he said. 

You looked up at him.

“I have serious matters to bear- and I for one, take this upcoming marriage seriously…” you said. “If I must adapt to life in the castle, life as a princess-your princess- I will know how…”

“It is all you do…”

“It’s my duty to…it’s what…what it means to…to marry you…” you sputtered out.

You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so anguished, so sad. You saw the imprint of hte needle on your fingertips. They felt sore- how long had you sewn?

“You think I don’t…don’t take this marriage seriously?! That I don’t take you seriously?!” Hal asked.

You tossed it down and went to the window to look outside to the green trees and grey sky. Unable to face him, wrapping arms around yourself. Feeling tears in your eye ducts.

“Hal…you know I am not the kind of person you’d choose to be your wife…you know I am not the kind of lady you fancy…just go…I don’t care if you’re betrothed to her or buy her for the night, at least you’ll be happy with some other woman. Just…just admit it…You don’t like me, I will…I’ll just make you miserable, I’ll…spare you the disappointment. I’ll speak to your father- ask him to end it… just- go and end the betrothal and leave me in peace…”

You felt a few tears in you. 

“My lady…you’re…you’re crying…” he commented. 

You heard him walk behind you. You finally confessed it all.

“Hal…I wanted…I just wanted to..to have a good life. A normal, peaceful life. I dreamt of…of love and of being wooed and courted and romance…and now here I am, but…but…I’m…”

You thought of it. The upcoming days. Everything. Your life upheaving. Married and made royalty in months.

“I’m just…overwhelmed…” you confessed.

You felt tears go down your eyes. You flinched. You expected him to laugh at you. To scoff at you. He didn’t.

You turned around to him. He found your handkerchief, white with strawberries sewn on it, and handed it to you. You wiped off your face.

“Do you want to know a secret?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“The reason father wanted me to marry you was that you were always so good, so rule-abiding. He believed you would tame me. But I see you…you’re so afraid of pleasing others. You forget your own pleasures in life-haven’t you ever wanted to see life? Life outside of manors and castles? See real people? Not lords and ladies- What it is like?” he asked, leaning closer to you.

You looked up. He opened his hand. You accepted it.

“You look like you have never relaxed a day in your life! And for all your assumptions about me…have you ever seen a tavern, my lady?” he asked.

“I…I…uh…no. No, I haven’t,” you confessed.

“Then…how about a change of scene?” he asked. He gave a small wink. It made you a little breathless.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

You were dressed in some peasant clothes that fit you- a simple blue dress over a white shift and a brown belt and long sleeves. Simple, but pretty. You liked pretty things and wanted to feel a little even as a peasant. Hal in his usual red leather. You both rode out on his black horse He took you out to those streets. It buzzed with flies. You could smell meat and see the butcher’s wares of dead animals hung out everywhere. A tall dog wagged its tail and sniffed the ground. It went up to you and you petted it. He felt scruffy and soft and panted with a smile. Then he went about sniffing. Hal turned to you. He looked out. It was a steady crowd of people going about. You couldn’t help but look about you.

“Here, my lady…take my hand,” he offered, outstretching his.

“How come?”

“I don’t want you to get lost,” he explained.

You accepted it. Feeling it’s warmth as he walked you through. Many turned to see him and bowed to him. It amazed you. He looked around- you never knew so many just ordinary people. All about. Lvinig their lives- how fascinating they were.

He then smiled.

“This…this is the one. The one that’s my favorite!”

It was called The Boar’s Tavern. He helped you in. Already it was crowded with people. Wooden and smelling of roasting, rich, savory meats and of ale, of wine. People chatted everywhere. Children played about with balls made of cloth. Ladies sat on the laps of men and laughed.

In was a woman with an apron, a hat over her head, and fingerless gloves. She was short and had grey hair and bright, red cheeks from her bustling about. 

“Aye! It is his grace, our Hal!”

He went up to her and kissed the side of her head.

The woman turned over and peeked at you, merely folding your hands before you. 

“And my-who is this lady?”

You curtsied out of habit and placed your hands before you. Suddenly shy.

“Mistreress Quickly-this is the lady Y/N. She is…she is my betrothed. Lady Y/N, this is Misteress Quickly-she owns and runs this tavern.”

You looked about. To think- she, a lady, ran this whole business! It was hers! She wasn’t a whore or a wife, she was a woman of business!

“All of this is yours?” you asked.

“Aye, it is. A right and good establishment, if I say so.” Mistress Quickly boasted.

“It’s…it’s very…it’s cozy…and it looked fun!” you said.

“Oh, we do have some fun. Hal-pour her some sack. We will give her some and a meal, on the house! Especially one about to be Lady Hal- oh, to think I’d see the day!” she remarked. 

She went over to gather up a fire for your meal and drinks. Men went about to lounge and laugh with each other. And about were women. Their shoulders exposed, and dresses cut to show more of their decolletage. Would they laugh at you? No…they were focused on drying their laundry. Or their eyes would turn up to you, nodding heads in acknowledgment before returning to their business. Misteress Quickly arrived and handed you both cups of wine or “sack.” It felt cheaper than what you drank at home-but stronger, burning down your belly. 

Then, finally, one approached you. Her head tilted in curiosity. She had unbrushed blonde hair and a dirty dress that revealed her shoulders. She put her hands on her hips.

“Why- you’re the lady Y/N, ain’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, yes I am. Pleased to meet you. What is your name?”

“Eh, call me Doll,” she answered. 

It was obvious-A whore! A real one! Flesh and blood! But even if she was one…you still owed her good manners. She looked down and then up at you.

“Why then- good to meet you too. I can tell already you’ve never had to put a toe here- but need not fear. We’re a merry bunch. Harmless. Everyone’s all laughter and drinks and all.,” she advised.

“That…that sounds nice…” you replied.

She went up to you, gently slapping your arm to hold it. Speaking already as if you were an old friend. 

“But you don’t have to be so all ‘yes my lord’ and ‘no my lord,’ here. Some old goat bothers you, you shove ‘im off. Here…have yourself a drink…”

“I…I’ve never met a…a whore before…” you commented.

“Why, now you have. Don't be scared- I don’t bite,” she said.

Mistress Quickly handed you a cup. Hal was already teasing a serving man named Francis with how many times he could run about. 

“Do you…like what you do?” you asked Doll.

“When the man’s nice, like my dear old Jack here” she gestured to Falstaff. “You get enough to get by.”

“Are you scared of having a baby?” you asked.

“You learn all the herbs and tricks to stop that. Most men want you to pleasure them with your mouth, anyways- can’t have a baby there,” 

You looked down at your cup, warm with embarrassment. Then you asked further, lowering your voice.

“Have you…been with Hal?”

She let out a little a small smile. She didn’t lower her voice. 

“Course I have! Yes-some of the women say he visited them. He’s a regular!” she told you.

“Doll, What was he…he like? Does it…does he hurt you?” you asked agian in a quite voice. 

“Hurt! Oh no! He’s sweet as can be! He won’t hurt you- unless you ask him to give you a good slap as he’s ridin’ you!”

She laughed at your embarrassed look.

“I’m…I’m his intended so…I wanted to know, to be ready…” you explained.

“Oh! Nervous for your duty and all that!? Well, I’ll tell you- he is a good man. And he’ll be good to you when it’s your turn. Now…what do you think of the sack?”

You took another sip of your cup. 

“It’s…it’s so good!”

“Try it with honey-it’s even better!”

 She showed you a honey jar and poured a little in your cup. And yes- it was even better. 

Then in stumbled an old man. So bulbous and a face so red he reminded you of a tomato. His white hair and great white beard, boasting to a crowd. 

“Three men! Oh no- I tell you- it was five men, hm yes! Five men I defeated there!” he bragged to the dirited companions surrounding him, all with amused looks. 

Then his eyes lit up, seeing you. 

“Falstaff…this is Y/N”

“Yes, and when I saw those six men, I-”

The man called Falstaff paused his bragging and turned to see you. He put his hands over his hips to look at you.  You curtsied again.

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” you said. 

The old man, plumper than a peach with a long grey beard and a red face went to you. He looked you up and down. Then he talked-talked so much you didn’t have time to reply. 

“Hmmm, ah, yes. This is the Y/N-the famous Y/N, lady Y/N. Yes-how much I see already. Her hands positioned to hold- the little smile, her posture-mmph, can tell already where she’s been. One of those convent girls. But if that is who will make Hal die on his wedding night, he will die smugly… I tell you, sweet wag-”

You turned  your eyes down before the floor. Falstaff was talking so boldly of…le petit mort in a public space! But you should have guessed from the whores how open everything was here. Hal blushed and put his head down. You looked away. Falstaff released a large laugh at your reaction. 

The old knight turned to Hal and patted his shoulder. 

“I’ve conquered many a heart in my day. Oooo, old Jack Falstaff has ways with women. Hmm- the letters I’d send them. There is a Lady Ford and a Lady Page and with one letter  to each, I’ll cuckold their husbands easily! So- here’s my advice, wag. Give her a sweet word, a letter -and she’ll be yours. I can show you the format- yes, yes. No woman can resist the love of the knight, Falstaff…I doubt even less this-”

He pinched Hal’s cheek.

“-Handsome, young prince here!”

He handed you the letters he planned on sending them. To your immense surprise, it was the same one only the names were switched. Before you could comment he got them again and folded them up, putting them in his pocket.

“Hmm- this calls for celebration- for Hal’s marriage and my seduction! Francis! Come over, lad! Give some sack before I die!”

He waddled over to where the cup bearer sat.

“Should we tell him? The letters are the same?” you asked.

“I would rather sit by and watch and laugh at him!” Hal replied. 

Then in came a young man with dark hair and dark eyes-slender and with a triangular nose.

“Oh here! A lady is here?! A new lady-” he said. 

“Why, Poins-here-I would like you to meet her. This is Lady Y/N.”

You made your curtsies again. He only gave you a cheeky smile. 

“Oh, well- tis time!” he muttered.

Hal shot to him with wide, nervous eyes. 

“Poins I-”

Poins then swooped you into his arms. You let out a little shreik from the feeling. 

“Hal! I have your maid! And now she is mine!” he teased.

So light and fun, you did not feel any fear. He caught you and lifted you above him with his strong arms. You were surprised at his strength- he hoisted you up and began running through the tavern. People laughed as Poins ran about with Hal chasing him and even you couldn’t help but laugh too. 

“Oh, Poins, you dog! Let me have her!” Hal cried.

Quickly he ran, you squealed from the feeling. Up high and dangling as Poins ran off. He went to a quick corner in one end and set you down. After seeing that he was hidden, he turned to you. 

“He will never admit it-but the man adores you, Y/N!” he confided.

Your jaw dropped.

“He…he what! Since…the bethrothal?” you asked.

“Before that- for several months since he met you! Won’t even touch Doll anymore!”

Shock flooded your system. The words earlier- they made sense.

Poins put up a hand. 

“ I swear he’s like some doe-eyed lover in a romance for you! He could hardly speak to you in your bethrothal- you make him nervous, Y/N! He wanted nothing more than you since when you first met! And now he sighs and pines. He blushes like a maiden! And seems half a man whenever your name is brought up! Y/N- And I must tell you something!”

He leaned closer.

“Long before the betrothal was a whisper…there was one night. It was dark and four in the morn. My sweet honey lord was quite drunk. He would sigh into his cup. I had to be fetched to drag him to a bed. Do you know what he was muttering? He cursed into his cup, lamenting “Y/N- sweet creature- Oh, Y/N! Curse the day Fate gives you to another!’ before he fell to the floor. Dear lady-show him a little mercy! Or be clever- Turn this prince into your servant when you can!”

You had no words. Your eyes are wide. Of course…this could be a lie. Just something he was making up to flatter you. To prank you. But, something inside of you was telling you it was truth…if so, why would he lie to you? What would Poins gain?

Then Hal swept in, his face bright red.

“Please, enough! Are you hungry, my lady!? I think you should to dinner- there’s going to be music you might like.” he suggested.

“Of…of course,  Hal,” you replied.

He turned around, his eyebrows going up as you used his nickname. The one his friends here called him. 

As you reached over, you clasped his hand. Hal went still for a moment, seeing that you eagerly put yours in his. Feeling your touch. Then he went on.

As you ate, you noticed women left with men. They held the hands of their customers and led them to their rooms. Then the moans and grunts and the rhythms of something hitting the walls not long after. Wet sounds, too- without shame of their volume.  You swallowed the urge to gasp and looked down in embarrassment. Hal only gave a smirk as he ate on.

“Are they…” you turned to Hal.

“They aren’t reading, I can tell you that…” Hal laughed as he picked up some meat and chewed it in his mouth. 

“They’re so…so loud…so…so shameless, I never….Wouldn’t they be embarrassed?” you asked.

Yet part of you…you would never admit it…the sounds also…you liked them. You…envied them. And with Hal so near. His leather just brushed against your arms. 

“When one finds pleasure here, they don’t feel ashamed of it. They just enjoy it.”

“Isn’t it…sinful?” you asked.

“Sinful for how their bodies react when they touch each other? How God made them? If they agree to it, it cannot be, I think…”

 Both of you finished your meals. The sounds of their pleasure became dimmer. You heard people get out instruments and play them. There was starting to be laughter. A gentleman with a large and red nose- Bardolph, went up and greeted Hal. As Hal went up to welcome his friend, you suddenly felt a tug on your arm.

There was a gentleman at least ten years your senior. He had sharp eyes and his strong arm pulled you closer. He gave you a wide, lascivious smile as he handed you several coins.

“Here, girl…” he said.

“Sir…what is this?” you asked, looking at the coins.

“This, this is for you, of course, my dear.”

“For me?”  you repeated.

 It then hit you why. 

He grabbed your arms.Panic surged through your system. He tried to drag you off to the nearest dark corner, but you forced your feet still. Tugging at him, struggling to break off. You managed out of his arms, and then he grabbed your hand. But you stayed still. A glimpse at Doll Tearsheet and your heart was racing. 

“Sir- there’s been a mistake! I’m a lady! I am not a whore!” you stated.

“Ah, the whore thinks she can refuse, eh?! Why else would Misteress Quickly bring a new beauty to The Boar’s Head!” he asked.

“I’m just visiting, sir! Doll is right over there! And plenty of others could use it more than me!” you cried. Glancing towards the other women.

Doll’s head perked up and she sensed something amiss. Even the whores looked among each other in seriousness once they realized what was happening. 

“This money’s not for Doll, it’s for you. You would be a delight in bed tonight!”

Doll touched the arm of the prince by Bardolph, alerting him. 

You were ready to fight him, ready to run, then in came Hal. He whipped out his dagger and pointed it to the man’s nose. He jumped off. Doll ran forward and pulled you away, pulling you into a protective hug.

“Leave her be- you miscreant!”

The villain held up his hands and backed off slowly.

“Why, your little grace..what else have you to do with this woman? I was about to pay for her, like any other man here. Why do you act thus?”

The music paused and eyes turned. Amused and worried, as to what would happen next. Would a fight break out? Would there be more men who thought they could be your “customers?” You cowered further into Doll, clinging to her. Oh dear God, how bad this was getting!

Your heart raced. Hal glanced at you. You looked at Hal with wide eyes. He then unsheathed his dagger and looked at the man. Then Hal made his reply.

“Because she is my whore for tonight!”

The earth stopped turning. You could hear your fast heartbeat and your jaw dropped. Hal went up to you. With great strength, he pulled you from Doll’s arms to his. In a second, before you could process it, he sat down on the nearest surface and pulled you to his lap. You made a small gasp at the feeling. He wrapped an arm possessively around you.

Then he looked thunderously at the tavern. They were silent as he made a declaration. 

“I bought her company all this evening. Tonight, she is mine. And if any man here thinks they can dare touch what is mine, their head will be lobbed off under order of the Prince of Wales- is that clear!?”

He nodded his head, and the other wide-eyed men swallowed and took note.

Mistress Quickly scurried towards the musicians.

“Play! Play! Oh- give us a song! Something merry!” she insisted. 

They played and the tension relaxed. People went back to their drinking and their business. But you remained sitting on Hal. 

“Play along,” he whispered into your ear.

But sitting on his lap… It was making you…feel something. Something you couldn’t quite name. Your heart was beating even harder. Your body felt like it was with fever. And as for between your legs, it was stirring, something, something you had never felt before-and you wanted more of it. He was right there, beneath you. You felt his hands go around to your back.

Others were siting at Hal’s table. You both glanced to see whores with their customers- they were kissing. 

He eyed you and them. Then, he touched touched your chin. He asked.

“A kiss for me, my beauty?”

Enough so that no one would suspect anything. 

“I, uh-yes,” you replied.

 Then he pulled you in for a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. Feeling his soft lips, the wine on his breath and tasting rich, like you could become drunk from him-his touch alone was making you feel intoxicated already. You tugged at him, and he kept a hand at your back to secure you. You sighed from it. Groaning from it. Then he released. His pupils were wide and both of you were catching your breaths. 

“Hal…”

You then gathered your skirt in your hands and looked down. What scared you was how much you liked touching him. How…how wonderful this felt. How…nice. Something between your legs was stirring. It was getting wet and you sensed it was not with urine or menstrual blood.

Hal then smiled at his companions at the table and raised a glass to them. 

“Y/N…my pretty whore…to the jewel of the Boar’s Head, Y/N-and a jewel she will be in my bed tonight.”

They cheered as they raised their cups. They had a deep drink. You were handed one and drank too.

“Yes-uh, yes, my lord, I will be-uh, very happy to pleasure you tonight,” you muttered in agreement, before having a sip.

He reached his hand down yours. Then he lifted up your hand to his lips and kissed you on your pulse, keeping a steady hold on it as he lowered.

Then they began to boast of how the wine caskets were being opened and how much they could drink in one go. Laughing, they ran over to sample it. 

Hal turned over to you. He had a half-smile

“My lady…your pulse is racing very fast…are you afraid of me?” he asked, though with a touch of cheekiness.

“No,” you answered. But you were afraid of how much you liked this. 

“It’s only when I touch you, is it?” you asked.

“Yes…yes it is…” you confessed breathlessly.

He made a small laugh and you could have sworn he was blushing. 

“It’s only your body reacting to me. It’s how God, how nature made us- nothing more… Can you continue the pretense? For a little bit?” he asked.

“Yes, Hal, I can,” you said.

He then slid you off of his lap to be on the seat next to him. Once when you thought you could cool your senses, he turned close to you, touching your leg as you were near and wrapping his other arm around you.

“Do you like the wine here, my lady?” he asked.

“I’ve…I’ve never had better, sweeter wine…I haven’t drank too much of it, have I?” you asked.

“If you’re still walking safely, then the answer is no, Y/N,” he replied. 

Then the music got to a gig. People got up, getting partners.

“Are they going to dance?” you asked.

“Yes, they are!” he confirmed.

“You took his hands, smiling and getting up.”

“Dance with me Hal- do you know how to?” you asked.

“Yes, yes I do!” he answered.

You led him over as couples gathered around. They managed to kick their steps in time and though he still had trouble with his feet, he was smiling- relaxed. Far more relaxed than he was at any court ball.

At one point you had to turn around. But all you could see was him. Your bodies moved so well together- almost in sync here. You could look at him and do the steps fluidly. Feeling his touch, looking into his eyes. He held your hand…something was different. He kept a hand to your back warm and splayed. It never felt this nice.

Then…it ended. And he was still holding your hand. Catching your breaths and looking into each other's eyes. Hesitantly, he let go.

“Did you like that, my lady?” he asked.

“I…I liked it. Very much.”

You wanted him. You wanted his touch. More of him. He placed you back on his lap as he sat down right next to a table. He nestled into your neck.

“I’ll tell them I’m taking you with me to the palace and then escort you home,” he whispered. 

“People are…are leaving more, now…” you commented. The crowds were thinning. The noise was calming down. 

“Why…it’s getting late…a tavern has two lives. The celebration and then the dimming, the seriousness, when all is dark and gloomy.”

“It’s still…it’s peaceful… I do like it Hal…”

His lips moved to speak and then froze. He touched your cheek tenderly.

“Y/N…” he muttered.

“What is it?”

His softened to you.

“You’re…you’re a beautiful woman…and…and a good woman, too…” he confessed breathily, earnestly. 

“I am your…your whore…” you said aloud, aware there were others. You nervously glanced around and then he held your chin back to face him. 

“Y/N, I don’t care what you are now. I just want you to kiss me again.”

You did, feeling him. His mouth. His touch. He pressed himself towards you- to keep you close again. You heard him sigh into it. Then lips releasing- yet it felt too soon. He whispered your name. His voice. And it was not pretense. 

“Sweetest of ladies…my dearest…”

Before you knew it, he laid you down on that table. Your breath was knocked out of you. You felt your back hit the wood. He crawled on top of you on the table. Your bare legs peeking from your skirt being hiked up from your position, he touched them, feeling your skin up and down. But his weight didn’t touch you and his hands feeling your thigh made you feel even dizzier. He laid another kiss on you. You couldn’t catch your breath. You couldn’t believe How…good all of this felt. And your folds were wetting already, and not with urine or menstrual blood. He kissed you again. His hips touched yours and you felt your legs go up in instinct. A truly whorelike moan escaped you. You never felt…like this before. This climb up, this ecstasy.

This…need. 

He let go of his lips. Then pulled off of you. But The cold air hit you like a shot. But it was still stirring inside of you. This desire…screaming, turning inside you.

You wanted him.

“I’m sorry- I was carried away,” he muttered. “Y/N…I’ll…I’ll stop,”

“No!” you hissed.

He paused, his eyes wide. You went to him and touched his face. You swallowed deeply.

“I…I didn’t want you to stop,” you confessed.

“What?” he mumbled, tilting his head.

The words flew out of you. You gathered yourself on his lap. Feeling your legs wide, the cool air against your soaking, throbbing arousal. You wanted it complete- you wanted him. You touched his face, speaking softly. 

“Hal…I don’t want you to stop…what…what is it like? When you lie with a woman? With a whore? How does it feel? I want to know Hal…I want to…I want you to…to do the act on me. Take me…you are my husband already they say…then show me what is it like to bed you. What will it be like to be your wife? Please Hal-they think I’m your whore anyway- so bed me. Tonight. Now. Show me what it is like…” you begged quietly.

His jaw dropped. He pulled you closer. Another hand wrapping around you close. His voice was husky and his eyes gentle.

"Y/N...tonight...You want me... and you trust me?” 

“Yes,” you answered.

You felt his breaths shudder. Then he took your hand. He downright pulled you to Mistress Quickley in a corner counting money.

"Is there a spare room?" he asked.

She pointed upstairs. 

"For you? The second one you see up there," she explained with a nod.

He paid her. Then, he took your hand and led you up. Your heart was racing, going right up. He opened the door and let you in.

It was a wooden room. Cozy with plenty of space. Humble chairs. A window with brown crossed latched. And a large bed with a feathered mattress and four posters right when you opened the door. Moonlight shone through the windows. There were a few lit candles. Enough to see, but enough it was dim, private, romantic. 

Hal, far too tall for the doorframe, ducked under it with a fluid ease.

“Now…at last, we can be alone…and at last…you will be mine in every way…” he husked.

He pushed the door shut as he kept looking into your eyes. Then He grabbed your face and he kissed you. Then he took his hands and put his hips to yours. It caused friction that made you gasp. It nudged a sensitive part of you and you shuddered.

"Is it locked? If...if someone walks in?" you muttered, remembering yourself.

"Will they disturb the Prince of Wales, now? I will send them away..." he whispered.

You felt his fingers going up from your sides, then to touch your waist, gripping it. 

"I have someone more important with me now," he said with a smile. 

He sat on the bed and pulled you to sit on his leg. You let out a small sound at the feeling. His hand went up your skirt, finding your thighs.

“Spread your legs my dear…let me help you…I will make you ready…” he whispered.

He bunched up your skirt, so you felt it gather around your hips. His hands opened your legs so that you felt his knee right against your bare folds.

The smooth leather of his pants hit against your most private area- wet and sensitive. You felt it…brush against him, the material of his pants. You let out a gasp. So sensitive- stimulated. But you wanted more. 

“Do you like this feeling?” he asked.

You nodded. He guided your hips. It moved back, and then forth- making friction and a chill ran against you. You let out a small gasp.

“H-Hal! That…that feels…feels so good…”

He moved your hips to grind against his thigh.

“There….now darling…ride it like a horse-there,” he said.

He guided your hips to grind against his leg. You placed your hands over his broad, strong shoulders. It was pulling you close. The tension- it was making you gasp. Sounds coming out of you that you never thought you could make-touching him. Even with his codpiece on, you could tell something was stirring inside him too. He gave you another kiss as you rode his leg. Then his hands went over to your blouse. He touched your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright, my lady?” he asked with a smug smile.

You let out a moan as an answer. He grabbed you. He kissed you more as if he was drunk and you were ale. Still clothed entirely and already a mess for each other. His voice low, he said into your ear.

"When I join with you, I'm going to make you cry out louder with pleasure than any whore here ever did. And they will know who gives this to you- your lord. And when I'm inside you, there will be more blessings between your legs than any church could give me…”

He kissed you again. His hand moved up to cup your breasts. He moved them around, feeling them. He moved, a finger playing with the string tie that held it together- your shift beneath he began to unlace the strings of your bodice. You paused, the cool air of your chest as it was lowering for him.

“I didn’t say you could stop…keep going. I’m going to undress you slowly- I want to enjoy every inch of you revealed to me…” he ordered.

You kept grinding.

Your blouse was loose, showing your shoulders. He pressed a kiss onto them that made you sigh out another little groan.

His hands greedily remove your garments. He took off your belt,. The little fingerless gloves joined it’s pile. Then finally his hands went to the collar of your dress and shift, already loose. He pulled your dress over your head. Then, in only your shift, he tugged it down until it pooled over your hips. Your bare breasts and stomach before him. You felt his eyes see you, all of you. You chilled from the cold. But he only smiled. He wrapped both arms around your waist and cupped your cheek. He looked down-seeing your breasts rising with your excited breaths. He licked his lips at Your stomach and Your hips. 

“Beautiful…just beautiful…how lucky I am to enjoy you for all of my life now,” he said.

Then he kissed you at the nape between your neck amd shoulder. You sighed into it.

"H-Hal..." you voiced out. 

You held onto him.

“What are you thinking, my love?” he asked.

“That…this duty feels…feels nice…That I…I’m going to be your wife and…I should…perform my duty to you…” you voiced out. 

He put his hands on your hips and stopped your grinding. Then he took and you half threw you on the bed. He went over to you getting on top of you. You felt his fingers then reach one digit to your folds. You let out a small cry. 

"You should know of passion, not duty, in our bed. You should know the ecstasy I can give you every night from now on. would you like that?” he asked.

"Y-Yes...my lord, yes Hal.."

You gasped feeling it. He removed his fingers, slick with your juices. He began to undo his jacket- your wetness grazing the leather and making a small stain. Then removed his black shirt. He went up to you. 

He took your hand. He traced the wrist gently with his finger. Then he kissed it. 

"There is my little sweetling...such a good little wife she will be…doing everything for her husband…and she will be rewarded…”

 You got him, your nails digging into his warm back. He slid a finger back into you. He got it out, then back in. You clutched onto him- feeling him against the lips between your legs as he swirled around. You ground against it, finding even more pleasure.

"Oh...oh Lord....Hal…your fingers are so…so-!”

"Do you like that, my sweet lady, do you enjoy being ruined this way?"

"Yes...yes...more, Hal- I want more!"

“Sweet little bird…so eager, so willing. Willing to please- to let me corrupt her. What would those nuns think of you now, hm? What would they know of what we have here, now?  I will enjoy having you- and I will have you every night. How does that sound for Duty, hm?”

He kissed and slid a tongue over yours. He slid another finger, pumping in and out.  Your legs had to widen to accommodate him. You made so many noises. 

You felt so hot, you felt his weight, shifting on top of you. To kiss you. To adore you. His snaking body grinding against you-he kissed you like you were food. His need. His ache. His hair fell softly through him. He cupped your cheeks and kept kissing you again.He groaned as he kissed

He let go with a smirk on his face. You felt something bubbling inside you- going up.

"I should have…should have taken you on the table...before all of them to watch-"

“Better late than never,” you breathed out, both of you melting into small laughter. 

But right before it climbed too high up, he removed his fingers, slick with you. You took his body in. His beautiful, lean body. How soft yet strong he was. So many muscles in just his arm alone. His chest- how beautiful it was. How…broad he was, too. And not just his chest that felt large. 

He removed his codpiece and slid off his pants easily. Your eyes went down to that cock-hard and eager and huge. Twitching. You had to swallow a moan from it-how was it going to fit in you? He then slid you down the bed-and he remained standing.

“Yes- look at me, darling. It might hurt a little, sweet wife. I will be slow,” you voiced.

But you were so eager-so desperate-you had to be with him. How warm he felt now- skin against skin. He kissed you once more time, his hips teasing what was to come.  Yet he was still remaining standing.

"Here...are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes, yes I am! My lord, please! Please take me!”

You felt his cock teasing against your entrance. He began to graze his hands up and down your thigh. touching up and down them. He looked at your pussy and smiled. Then, positioning your legs already to be between his head. He began to trust in you by sinking in. Inch by agonizing inch, he slowly vanished in.  

You let out a cry-a whimper. You had never been filled like this.

“ Oh my god-Hal!”

He groaned, easing him last bit of his cock inside you. The slight pain then began to melt.

“Do you want me to stop?”

The pain was gone-fizzled to pleasure. You were…getting used to him.

“No…no…please…please keep going. Please-”

He backed and then thrust.

“Oh! Oh- yes-yes, Hal-please.”

The began- thrusting slowly inside you. Still standing and you laying down. His hips rocked back. Creating such friction, such heat, like none you have felt. He was groaning hard. Each thrust was better than the last one.  

All you could say was a prayer. Simply repeating “please-yes-oh, oh my god-please, Hal, please-yes, there, Hal-”

You were used to it, then he increased the pace. He hissed out your name. He held you still so you had to take all of him- not that you would complain.  You felt your voice rising. All you saw was him, felt was him. He was nailing you-he was keeping you right into the end of the bed as he stood. So deep and full were his penetrations. Then his hand slid.

“Ah- yes-Here..my little rose has a rosebud inside her-” he said.

He found your nub, and then began to strum it with his thrusts. Even more pleasure whirled in you- it felt even better.

"Oh! Oh-gods! Hal! Yes! Yes-please-Yes! There!”

"Yes-cry my name, tell all of Boars-nrgh-all of Boar's Head-nrsh-who your lord is..."

Flesh slapped against flesh as he increased his pace. You weren’t sure now- you slide back and forth, whimpering with pleasure. 

“You-are-mine-now-nrgh-Gods and-Fuck-yes your lord-yes-gives you-gods-yes,this-fuck-your lord always-always satisfies you-”

His pace increased. He was grunting, moaning. You now understood why the noises came from those rooms-you were making them yourself. He pounded and pounded you into the bed.

“Hal…Hal-something-something in me-it’s…it’s going up…” you whimpered.

He kept strumming you.

“You’re close-close my dear-it’s going to overwhelm you- yes- it’s-it’s me too- give into it-give into it- cry ou t- let it happen-yes-fuck-yes-yes-yes, now, my dear- come now- come now!”

Then finally, you felt it-pleasure bursting, overwhelming you. It hit you so suddenly, so hard, you let out a shout that echoed.  You cried out-

“Yes-Hal-Hal!”

With a groan and a thrust, brought on by your own brink, he came. You felt him pump inside you. It was probably lucky to have the wedding in two months- if a child came from this, none but you would know. 

He paused, collapsing down onto you. Only to hold you, nestling you close.

“Hal…I…I have no words…” you whispered.

“You cannot ask to break this betrothal…not after what we’ve shared…” he breathed. He then went up to see your face. “Please, Y/N…I…I…”

“I love you too, Hal,” you replied.

He smiled, kissing you. A deep breath of relief through him. He positioned himself there on the bed, holding you for only a bit. 

“We…we will have to get home soon…we…we will get in trouble…” you said.

“What sweet trouble it was….but I will see you home safe…” he replied.

 He redressed you and you helped redressed him. When it seemed the tavern was asleep without witnesses about the main room, he held your hand and led you back to his horse outside. Eagerly you both galloped, but you laughed as the wind tickled you. You found riding so close to him comfortable now and leaned back against him. An embrace as each landing of the steed’s hooves brought you closer. Then you were brought back home.

He was there at the entrance, knowing the servants would escort you to separate rooms, separate beds. He took your hand and then kissed it. A goodnight promise.

“Sleep well, my lady, he wished.

“Shall I see you tomorrow?” you asked.

“Every day,” he replied with a smile that matched yours.

[sundropstories]

Not a Secret

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Summary: The team witnesses you and Bucky kiss for the first time and you start to realize they don't all know you guys are married. Or even in a relationship.

a/n: This takes place kinda after civil war. Timeline will make more sense in the little story <3

˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧˖⁺‧₊ ˖⁺‧₊

Bucky has been away on a mission for a bit now with most of the team. I've stayed behind with Peter, Kate, and some of our newer younger avengers. To just kinda hangout and keep them on track with training.

"Y/n, Mr.Stark just let me know they're on their way back now."

"Thanks Peter!" I say, a smile spreading on my face.

I miss Bucky so much! This is the longest we've been apart...since we've been together.

—

The elevator door opens and I practically jump off the couch to see my husband.

"Oh my god I missed you guys!" I say rushing to give everyone hugs.

This might seem like I'm crazy but, they've been on this mission for about two months. I guess some guy was making the serum..you know the serum. So they all went to figure that all out. So I've been hanging out with a bunch of teenagers for a couple months of course I miss my adult friends!

—

I'm speaking to Natasha about the mission when my favorite super soldier finally walks in.

"Yay your back!" I yell jumping into his arms to kiss him. The whole room falls silent and the energy shifts.

"Well she didn't miss the rest of us that much." I barely hear Tony say. Too focused on the handsome man looking back at me.

We pull away arms still holding each other. "You guys want me to give you all welcome back kisses?" I raise my eyebrow questioning them and let out a small laugh.

"You will not be doing that. You're only allowed to kiss your husband." Bucky says from behind me. It was then I started to notice the confused faces turn into surprised faces.

Then Sam speaks up "Excuse me, you guys are married?!"

I look back at Bucky, who still has an arm around my waist. "Are they fucking with us right now" I whisper. He just furrows his eyebrows in response.

I turn back to the team and lift my left hand showing my ring and he does the same. "Yeah..." I say to the team.

"When did you guys get married?" Natasha joins in on  questioning us.

"2017..but, no one was talking so we just had a small reception." Bucky finally answers.

"So why'd you guys keep it a secret?" Sam questions.

"What?" I start laughing "It's not a secret. Steve, Wanda, and Vision we're at the wedding. And we couldn't get a hold of the rest of you."

"Also some of you refused to talk to some of us at the time so we just...forgot to tell you. But, we thought you'd have figured it out after we all moved into the compound together..." Bucky adds.

This is so weird. I mean we're not exactly the most flashy couple but damn. For super hero's and spy's they're not very observant.

" I don't understand how we never noticed. Probably because You guys live in separate rooms." Tony says.

"No." I say. "Bucky and I share Bucky's old room, I've never used that spare room before."

It was weird at the time when he gave me that room but I just thought it was like an extra or something I don't know...

"I just thought you guys were like besties or something. I never thought Bucky to be the relationship type he's just so.. you know." Sam says letting out a small laugh.

—

After that really weird conversation Bucky and I went up to our room to finally just be together.

I missed this.

"It's so nice to finally have you back this bed feels so empty when you're gone." I say plopping myself onto the bed.

"I missed you so much doll." Bucky says laying next to me.

I shift to be laying in his arms, and look up so our faces are only inches apart.

"I love you Bucky."

"I love you too y/n."

[finchesslingshott]

me and @coffeeistired went on a whole rant together about modern!finch + modern!race and their bestie lore so here you go enjoy

they met each other in an adoption centre and when they went to the same middle school and found each other in class (my brain says like 6th grade when they met) they both got so excited (race/finch creds)

they were practically attached at the hip all through middle and high school, but they had a phase right after they graduated where they both got rlly busy and drifted apart and panicked and finch called race at like two a.m. in tears one night and was like "WE'RE STILL BEST FRIENDS RIGHT YOU DONT HATE ME???" (finch creds)

race reassured him, they had a good talk, and fell asleep on call together (finch creds)

THEY MET UP THE NEXT DAY AT BAR AND FINCH’S DUMB ASS CRASHED ON THE DRIVE HOME 😒 (he has never been able to live this down) (race creds)

finch and buttons were alr dating by then and buttons found finch waiting in the hospital (race broke his arm or smth) and smacked finch upside the head then kissed him (finch creds)

Race used to jokingly guilt trips Finch over that….”what do you meannn ya don’t wanna go to the pet shelter with me? Ya broke my arm! I’m trying to cheer myself up, I don’t wannna go aloneeee :(“ but he stopped after a month or two after he realized Finch might geuninely feel bad (race creds)

and finch did feel bad. immensely. finch literally wouldnt even touch a bottle of beer or smth for literal months and cried so many times over it, he was so scared to lose his and race's friendship because it meant the entire world and then some to him (finch creds)

Right now, Modern!Race is in collage to be an aerospace engineer, he has an internship at a space station(which is how he makes a good portion of his money- using that to pay off collage) and he’s an assistant teacher for the local middle/elmentray school’s special education program, he goes down once or twice a week. He doesn’t tell people his job because he thinks they won’t beilve him since he’s…”too dumb” (race creds)

a lot of race's little students he helps out with take piano lessons (some take voice and/or dance) from finch and finch reports to race what they say about him (finch creds)

BONUS —

in my mind finch is the shortest and he and buttons take the crud out of finch for being small (a mere 5'6") (finch creds)

"we shoulda nicknamed you smalls instead of finch-" "SHUT YOUR MOUTH." (finch creds)

Race has no room to talk he’s short too/J (5’7 1/2) (race creds)

"RACE YOURE AN INCH AND A HALF TALLER THAN ME SHUT YOUR TRAP" “I CANT HEAR YOU FROM DOWN THERE” "I HATE YOU" (finch/race creds)

Meanwhile, Buttons grinning evilly in the background with his 1/2 an inch over Race (buttons creds @thegreatbuttoneer)

"BUTTONS BABY I LOVE YOU BUT NO ONE ASKED ALR???" "youre just mad you have to get on tiptoe to kiss me" "i'm divorcing you" "WE ARENT EVEN MARRIED YET FINCH" (finch creds)

anyways i'm back in my own house so expect a lot of random drabble as we continue the binch revolution, love you guys <333

[m4rs-ex3]

✨ rayllum ✨

whaddya want from me i have to talk about it rn. aaaaaaaaaaaaa🫶🫶🫶🫶 boundaries. trust. FINGERGUNS. they. them. my pronouns are they because i'll never be them. callum is done wasting time being mad and is now devoting all of his time remembering and/or discovering HOW MUCH HE LOVES THIS GIRL UGH 💕💞💖💗💞💕💖💝💝💘💖💓 he is the sweetest fucking thing rn oml he can see now that she will always be there for him and he wants her to know and im normal. aside from the core developments of their relationship omfg we were SERVED. the banter, the softness, the absolute bestie(+) behavior. let's review:

(e1) "practical? like what ; :)" that is the flirtiest fuckin face ive ever seen

"yes. you. uh.. rayla."

"i was lookin for you! uh.. callum." HIS FACEEEE HIS WIDDLE SMILE

"i can see that. let her go." ZERO hesitation. also mad foreshadowing

"she broke into the high mage's office." "no that's crazy. she can go in there any time she wants." UGH i expected a "no that's crazy she would never do that" but he's straight up like 'whats mine is urs bbg" 😭✋

"the elf stole it." oh.. ok his face doesn't look too happy there i wonder if "shes not 'the elf.' she's rayla." OH FUCK ME THEN

"and she was hiding a weapon" "so what? she always is?" IM SCREAMING I LOVE THEM SM

it doesn't even seem that for a second he was perturbed about rayla having the murder weapon, more so that he was looking straight at the murder weapon. she's always been in the clear 🫡

"if she didn't tell me... she has a good reason." THIS. THIS RIGHT HERE. THIS-- iiis getting its own post.

"it means i trust her. unconditionally." brb dying happy

his face when she unchained herself god he loves his non-law-abiding girlfriend

"you don't have to explain or justify anything to me. you can tell me when you're ready :)" what can i even say at this point

(e2) "well i'm glad you liked it :)" kill me now

"and now... here we are," there it is he still sees them as one unit, defying all odds and persevering all circumstances oh me oh my

stargazing obvi

(e3) RAYLA IN CALLUM'S DOODLE. HE DIDN'T HAVE TO ADD HER IN THERE YET THERE SHE IS LOOKING ADORABLE

"she can't stop us." "nobody can >:)" "so we're going to lux aurea right? ; :)" "too right we are >:)>:)>:)>:)"

their chaos <3

(e4) rayllum montage my beloved THAT MUSIC

if you guys have been weird please show me normal

"rayla, we've been through a lot, and a lot has changed, ah- um, well, some things have changed, but not.. everything. uh... i would do anything for you."

i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i would do anything for you i wo

this is not fucking real what the fuckity fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

they are The standard

i've seen a lot of ships in my day way too many perhaps but no one compares

he's so patient and respectful w her 😭 the way he just gently holds out his hands

she fully emphasized that freeing them wasn't her priority and yet just ZERO hesitation callum saw his girl in distress and dropped everything no second thought required

THE HAND HOLDDDD THAT WAS SO SOFT

HE WAS SO FRICKEN EXCITED TO HELP HER

about to die and only one priority mhm

THUMB RUB THUMB RUB THUMB RUB THUMB RUB THUMB RUB THUMB RUB THUMB RUB

"i waited too long" i am so absolutely insane feral indignant

"i hope you know-" "i know."

bury me

(e5) fist bump. thats it im done im gone oh m !!!!! FIST !!! BUMP !!!!! YOU ABSOLUTE DORKS YOU <3<3<3<3<3

i am weak and the water scene is literally my favorite

he IMMEDIATELY knows shes uncomfy

AND he waits for her

"i don't think i'm comfortable pushing- hey!" "see? i pushed you first! pushing is easy!"

12:06 ish that glance downward tho 👀

the hand snatch of the century. her face. his face. that squeeze. "together." that ttm parallel.

HE HELD HER HAND THE ENTIRE TIME 😭😭😭💗

"-the entire world would be in danger-" IM SORRY BUT HE LOOKED STRAIGHT. AT HER. THAT LOOK KILL ME

"an amulet. or, uh, is it a talisman? what's the difference?" HER SWEET LIL GIGGLE (might just be the last sweet moment i have to report on)

beginning o e7 they're standing together on deck what happened all last night i need to know

her catching him when he collapsed :') and holding him up the rest of the time

"LET HIM GO!"

so e8 🙂

so

e

8

🙂

female rage has nothing on callum.

5 seasons. so many characters. so many losses. we have never seen this much emotion from anyone. i can hardly joke right now but he really embodied "don't you just wanna go apeshit?" i consume so much fucking media and this is new even for me. callum has never even had a temper. through all of this--getting kidnapped, abused, mentally and physically, seeing what his friends are going through--he hasn't broke. and then, seeing his biggest fear, the thing he's been plagued with for years, the thing we've seen him throw away his life to prevent, comes true, and he loses it. the scream, grunt & inhale, the speed, the aggression, the fucking expression. it's not hard to see how what happened next happened, i'm surprised he didn't do worse.

“all that talk about how love makes you stronger, but the second you see that elf girl in pain, you completely lost yourself.” mitski miyawaki kindly carry me out

every threat or demand finnegrin has made and callum has done nothing but scour. he has been as strong as anyone can be. and all of a sudden here he is crying out for mercy, pleading, bargaining, the lowest we've ever seen him. it hurts, but finnegrin was right.

"just... just let her go."

"NO! NO"

his defeat. we know this is because of... literally everything he has ever stood for being demolished. but his personal moral catastrophe aside, don't you find it interesting how he did all of that to keep rayla safe, and yet he never once went to her? i made another post abt this but i'm saying it again: rayla told him not to. and she believed in him. she's safe, but i don't think he thought he really saved her. he doesn't think he deserves anything she's giving him. he refuses to indulge in her, he refuses to confide in her, he refuses to seek her out. but he just saved her life. but that's not enough. not enough to resolve this within himself, and apparently not enough for the girl who's life he has saved twice now, who has stuck by him for years, who has dedicated everything to him, to be able to be okay with it. and he just kind of... accepts it. he doesn't beg for forgiveness, that being said he doesn't tell her either. this may seem like he's protecting himself, that he really just doesn't want to lose her, that he doesn't want to face this at all, but maybe it's him not wanting to disappoint her. yknow i really hate to be one of those people who ignores how basically all of callum's character surrounds his own internal conflict in favor of rayllum fan service, but fuck it's hard no to sometimes. he wants to be her hero, but he isn't; not to himself, anyway. this would always be the case. and yet... he did it all anyway. if that isn't unconditional, i'm jumping off a bridge.

no matter who he's protecting he is still being so strong for her

"yeah. yeah, i'm okay. i am." no, that obviously wasn't the truth. but for a "horrible liar," he sure appeared at least a little bit better. at the end of the day, the end of the battle, rayla's okay. and that always seems to help.

face touch 🩷

that hug man. her deep sigh. his shame melting into unavoidable comfort. him letting go despite all his better judgement. also it was cute. homicidal. but cute.

THE OTHER WATER SCENE IM STARTING TO THINK I HAVE A TYPE

the "eyes on me" thing AUUUHGHHGHGHGHGH

"i-i'm getting out" 👏ZERO👏HES👏ITATION👏 AND THE THING THAT MADE HIM BREAK WAS THE FEAR/SADNESS IN HER VOICE. LIKE AT FIRST HE WAS JUS LIKE "U GOOD?" BUT THEN HE SAW HOW UPSET SHE WAS AND WAS ALL "FUCK THE FATE OF THE WORLD IM GIVING YOU A HUG"

the squad reunion post-claudia when rayla gives callum's arm an extra little squeeze 😭

the ending handhold 🫶 thereee'ssss my little married couple

welp i would say it's been fun but it's been more so absolutely excruciating so. it has been.

if i still had feelings i would be so happy <3

[girlslikestarlight]

tips to get everything you want ✶⋆.˚

PART 3

Link to Part 1, Part 2

under the cut, you'll find psychological advice that will get you a YES for everything you ask for. think of these as tools for the next time you need to seduce, request, or attain.

<image from pinterest, below info source: influence by robert cialdini>

☾₊ ⊹ SOCIAL PROOF

This is where all your besties come in to back you up. You can say basically anything about yourself, but that doesn't mean anybody will believe you. But if somebody ELSE is telling people that you're the best tutor around/an amazing personal stylist/hot and single, people are more inclined to believe it. The more friends you have validating that you ARE something or HAVE something, the more true it becomes in the listeners' minds.

This doesn't have to be about belief either. One person paying you a tip sets the social rule for being given lots of tips.

Observe this in a group! If you tell a joke and one person starts laughing, everyone else will join in laughing too.

If you're making music or even just posting yourself online, one fan can draw in a million fans. It's just about setting a social rule. You only need one person on your side to get the ball rolling.

☾₊ ⊹ MAXIMISE LIKEABILITY

I obviously don't have to tell you that people will help you out because they LIKE you. I know you know that already, so here's how to use this to your advantage.

How do we apply this?

Network through mutual connections. The most effective way to network is to pick up on other industry contacts and names of people with desirable knowledge or experience. It's less scary to call on an important person when you're armed with "Your friend Laura suggested I reach out..."

Find a commonality. I used to work in customer service for tourists I knew I'd never see again, so I'd tell little white lies when I scanned their passports. "That's my Mum's birthday too!", "We're both Smiths", etc. I honestly did this so they saw me as a human being and didn't Karen me, I really don't recommend lying to anybody you might see twice - try and find a true common interest!

Glow up. It sounds bad but it's true: everyone finds hotter people more likeable no matter how much they deny it. The hotter you are, the easier time you'll have in a social situation.

Give compliments. I don't mean the simpering "you're sooo good and it was such an honour to listen to you" kind of compliments. They can be simple and slipped into the conversation. "Love those earrings. So you both work at the same company, right?" or "Great speech! I've been thinking about applying to..." People love praise and it's so easy to give it away without diminshing yourself.

☾₊ ⊹ SCARCITY

You'll know this one from your high school economics class. The rarer something is, the more people want it - right? People want things that are exclusive. That's why you're going to be exclusive. Give nothing away.

How do we apply this?

You can practice this in romance by being choosy about who you give yourself too and holding onto that thread of desirability.

You can practice this in your career by developing hard-to-find skills that make you more valuable to employers/managers.

Developing a niche interest or hobby might seem lonely or tough when less people are talking about your field... but when more people are interested in the same small hobby as you, there's an instant community - and community is so, so valuable.

☾₊ ⊹IN SUMMARY

If you don't have time to read all that, here are the takeaways:

It only takes one person to establish the social rule, whether it's giving you tips, applause, etc. There are lots of small ways you can indirectly create instant likeability. By demonstrating rare qualities, you make yourself more desirable.

...and that is a wrap on this series! Don't forget to use your powers for good. Your best qualities will always come from your deepest core values and internal truths, so make decisions that will make your 'inner you' proud.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Yours secretly,

Starlight

[new-acc-is-lake-creature2]

how to deal with guests that don't practice good xenia?

My aunt and her husband were transphobic to me and I didn't let it slide. To make everyone else more comfortable, I settle to ignore them ans hide in my room and I did after the initial offense. I didn't like them before that but treated them kindly. But the day after, her husband would ignore me.

Now a few months later they're acting like we're besties. They never addressed nor apologized. They either think I'd forget or be pressured to drop it at some point.

I'm ngl, they've been here 4 days and they esp the man talk literally nonstop, even just literally babbling. Everything about them infuriates me and ive been short with them, cussing under my breath, but not confronting them. I forgot xenia and do feel my actions werent in line with good xenia.

Her husband is passive aggressive and wanted to do karaoke. I politely told him there's at least 3 karaoke bars open 3 times. 3 times he said but we can just do it here, let's just do it here, it'll be fun.

My aunt and her husband are nice people, but that's different from kind. They don't care about sincerity, only their comfort even at the cost of others.

They're not blatantly bad guests like they don't eat all the food, leave spills on the floor, but are they not disrespecting me?

It's my grandma's house not mine, and she 'politely' sides with them and tells me in private to just be nice and deal.

But I still feel responsible to practice xenia as a host, but how does one deal with bad guests, especially in such a way as my aunt n her husband are?

[sergeifyodorov]

re: ur thoughts on the current trending hockeyblr/ao3 ship and how objectively wild it is that it Is What It Is. what current ships would you nominate in its place? noah fence to sidgeno … but which Classic Teammates In Love HRPF Ships do you think should take over for them? or like, which ships are you surprised AREN'T as popular as oiler/flame-who-isn't-even-still-a-flame?

hskdfjdks okay hm... my super totally unbiased opinions are about to be put into this world... blast me if you will etc

teammates in love ships that should be more popular

sid/letang. i know we're all into the arranged marriage aesthetic of sidgeno and we don't care about "defencemen" in this house but . kris letang is right there... he's a hot girl... he's a bad bitch... he's a supernaturally intense freak which means he and sid could get it on in such wild ways... and most importantly he's quebecois we need more francophone representation in our hockey rpf

steven stamkos/victor hedman. fundamentally we are not taking advantage of wily fox steve stamkos and Giant Conn Smythe Winning Sequoia Tree Victor Hedman who are right there.. they endured so much pain 2gether before winning their cups... they're besties... etc. look at that gifset of heddy lifting the cup over his head and tenderly kissing golden-haired stevie who's hugging him like he built the world. know what i know.

quinn hughes/elias pettersson. they were ROOMMATES ON THE ROAD they are DESIGNATED SAVIOURS OF VANCOUVER together quinn is bedraggled and practical and petey is bald and cunty. i know they're young but if petey sticks around... yknow. it'll get there. with your help etc etc

matthew tkachuk/sasha barkov. i agree i get it machuk is interesting he's an interesting fic character. sasha is right there... he loves him....

other ships that should be more popular

sid/ovi. they're both inchresting characters they're both extremely old men with lots of history they had to go through each other to win the cup EVERY TIME THEY DID IT...

geno/ovi along the same lines. actually my opinion of ovi is that he's a fascinating character ficwise all around... enigmatic, charismatic,,, i don't understand nicke backstrom which is the biggest reason nickeovi isn't on the first list. but sid/geno/ovi is nightmare threesome material and we should talk about it

not a Specific ship per se but we need usntdp fics of the generation BEFORE jhughes/zegras/caufield. i want something that compels you to draw a jeichel/auston/machuk/clay keller web so complicated you need to full-on Pepe Silvia in order to understand it.

jack hughes/nico hischier but specifically me and sol spiceberrie's vision of it

also not a specific ship but Guy That Sucks fic. the good old homosexual self-loathing spiral... yes... Yes... dont do it with machuk though he's too emotionally intelligent. needs to be a total bad-vibes mirror-staring cut-shaving don't-know-how-to-cry situation.

here's MY one-interaction-that-i'll-never-get-away-from enemies to lovers fic that makes no sense: auston matthews/rasmus dahlin. there's one (1) fic in the ship tag and i wrote it. my claim to rarepair fame...

[butterflydm]

WoT reread: The Strike at Shayol Ghul & some final thoughts, post-reread

So, I was not planning to do a full reread back when I first picked EotW back up again! My primary motivation was to refresh myself on books 1-3 so that I would be prepared for S2 of the show, lol.

But I'm glad that I did this reread. There was a lot in the books that I had forgotten or where I'd bought into the fandom party line despite the books themselves not supporting the arguments imo, so it was great to dive into them again and see what I think and not simply what general fandom thinks. Thanks so much to everyone who commented on or interacted with my reread posts. <3

While this next bit is technically not a reread because I never got around to reading it when it first came out, I went ahead and read "The Strike at Shayol Ghul" (written in 1996 by Jordan). Thanks to @wafflelovingbatgirl for reminding me about its existence! I may try to get around to reading "River of Souls" (about Demandred, by Sanderson) at some point, but TSaSG was easy to find online.

here there be spoilers

The Strike at Shayol Ghul

It's pretty short -- it's "an introduction" written by someone in-world -- Jorille Mondevin, who is the Royal Historian for the Queen of Kandor. Looks like the Queen that we know in the series -- Queen Ethenielle. Nice. I always enjoy 'in-world" texts, so this is very interesting.

She's telling the queen about a recent discovery of a "partial copy" of a "history of the world" from the drilling of the Bore until the end of the Breaking of the World. We get a worldbuilding note here: that the practice of printing survived the Breaking "when so much did not", which helps explain the high literacy level in the Westlands. While many inventions were lost, the printing press survived! Though most of the actual writings were lost during the Trolloc Wars and the War of the Hundred Years.

"We must marvel at any writing that has survived more than three thousand years." So true, bestie. (I've decided that Jorille and I are besties) "What we know is based on fragments, copied and recopied a thousand times, but at least we know something from them. Even a little knowledge is better than ignorance."

I love how this feeds into the basic concept we're dealing with -- history becomes legend. We're talking about that process here, of knowledge being reduced to fragments that are passed on.

Oh, man, reading this does remind me about reading about IRL fragmentary texts. "Such a history would no doubt be a vast, multi-volume work, yet of the two hundred and twelve surviving pages, the largest number of consecutive pages number six, and nowhere else more than two."

She notes that the dates given in the text make no sense, because "no calendar dating from the Age of Legends has ever been found". There are references both to large-scale events such as cities destroyed by balefire during the War of the Shadow, as well as mentions of individuals' personal appearances. But nothing that tells the special significance of most of the people mentioned.

The six consecutive pages that survived are of particular interest, because they are about the sealing of the Bore by Lews Therin Telamon and the Hundred Companions.

"We still cannot be certain how long passed between the creation of the Bore and the actual beginning of what would come to be called the War of the Shadow, yet plainly at least fifty years and possibly more than one hundred were marked by a rapid decline in the social order". During the first three years of the War of the Shadow, the Shadow made great in-roads and then during the next four, Lews Therin pushed them back to reclaim some of what was lost.

But ultimately, the Shadow began to prevail because it did not care if it left disaster in its wake. It was soon clear that they were losing again and their losses were accelerating. "If they were to win at all, it must be done quickly".

There were two plans proposed at the time that are mentioned here: first Lews Therin's idea of directly attacking the Bore itself. The Seals were going to be used to shut the Dark One away from the world. The plan was considered risky due to the Dark One's influence on the immediate area surrounding Shayol Ghul, with Lews Therin admitting that he expected few or perhaps none of his "raiding party" (of twenty thousand soldiers and 13 Aes Sedai) would survive. Additionally, there was a concern that if the seals were not placed in precisely the right locations, the strain of them would rip open the Bore entirely and free the Dark One.

The other plan, in opposition to this, was proposed by Latra Posae Decume. Her plan was to use two massive sa'angreal (the ones that Rand ended up using during the cleansing of saidin) to push the Shadow's forces back and erect a barrier around Shayol Ghul until... you know, they figured something better out. Downsides to this plan: the Bore has kept getting bigger since it was first drilled, so it might continue to do so behind this barrier as well, and if the Dark One got loose inside the barrier, the barrier itself might come undone under the strain.

Latra and Lews were both, apparently, very convincing speakers, with Latra getting every female Aes Sedai "of significant strength" to sign what the manuscript calls "the Fateful Accord" though Jorille doubts that's what it was called at the time. I wonder if the 'strength level' was "Nynaeve-level" or if it was lower and more like "Egwene/Elayne-level". It was believed that the signing of this accord killed Lews Therin's plan in the water, because "men cannot create a circle, only be brought into one created by a woman".

Work on the massive sa'angreal was rushed into production. There is, Jorille says, a lot of speculation among historians about whether or not the sa'angreal would have worked as Latra had proposed. She also mentions speculation about whether or not women going with Lews Therin into his plan would have protected saidin from the taint or if it would have only meant that saidar was tainted as well.

But disaster struck as the sa'angreal were completed. The place where the access ter'angreal were created (needing to be done remotely due to "uncontrolled resonances during the finale stages" -- Jorille doesn't know what that might mean, but I'm guessing it would mean feedback leading to a big boom) was overrun by Sammael and the forces of the Shadow, though they did not find the access ter'angreal.

With the sa'angreal unusable, Lews Therin argued again for his plan but Latra wouldn't budge. As time had passed, even more of the female Aes Sedai had pledged to the Accord, even though they weren't strong enough to be part of the circle anyway. "Tempers and passions rose, and an apparently unprecedented division along male-female lines began to develop among the Aes Sedai in general, if not within the Hall itself". The Hall decided to stay with Latra's plan, attempting to smuggle the access ter'angreal out of the area now controlled by Sammael.

Jorille notes that all those making the attempt to find the access ter'angreal were later found out to have been captured, tortured, and killed, though none of them betrayed the location of the ter'angreal to Sammael.

As the Shadow swept forward, there was the "re-emergence of the peace faction" who argued that negotiations should be held with the Forsaken. Jorille notes that this peace faction, over the course of the War, would send people on its own to try to negotiate with the Forsaken but, upon the return of the delegations, they would act out plans that aided the Shadow's cause "though it seems that in some instances, they were completely unaware of what they had done" (aka Compulsion).

Despite how dire the situation had grown, Latra's resistance to Lews Therin's plan held firm. "the lines of division had hardened to a point where many female Aes Sedai refused to speak to male Aes Sedai, and the reverse as well". Lews Therin decides to act on his own, without the Hall.

Jorille notes at this point that Latra had earned the name Shadar Nor, translated as "Cutter/Slicer of the Shadow" but what deeds earned her that title have been lost to history.

So, Lews Therin launches his own assault against Shayol Ghul, with the "Hundred Companions" (though Jorille says that text notes they numbered 113 at this point) and ten thousand regular soldiers.

"Exactly what occurred that day can never be known, only the results. Of the soldiers, not a single man or woman returned to give any account." It is known that the seals were placed safely, that "all thirteen of the Forsaken" were at Shayol Ghul and trapped in the sealing along with the Dark One. If that had been the only result of the attack, then the world would likely have recovered well over the next few years, Jorille speculates. "Civilization has retained a large degreee of cohesion in the ares held by the Light" and without the top generals, the armies of the Shadow fell into struggles for power among themselves. "In any case, the War of the Shadow must be said to have ended that day at Shayol Ghul."

But, Jorille adds, this was not the only result of the assault. "Instead, there was the counterstroke from the Dark One at the moment of sealing, and saidin itself was tainted." Lews Therin and his companions "went insane on the instant" and by the time the taint was discovered, hundreds more male Aes Sedai had been driven mad by the taint. "That fateful day at Shayol Ghul ended the war, and began the Breaking of the World."

She says that the manuscript itself, in its own introduction, speaks for what the people at the time were suffering: "Whoever reads this, if any remain to read it, weep for us who have no more tears. Pray for us who are damned alive."

Very informative and pretty evocative as well. One of the things that I love about WoT is the post-apocalyptic setting and one of the things that I love about that setting is learning about the world before and during the world-breaking event (one of the reasons I also love the Horizon Zero Dawn games).

I have no clue why I didn't read that back when it was first published. It's great and it's pretty short. Though I realize that a lot of that information had kinda filtered into my world-knowledge already, lol.

My personal ranklist for the WoT books:

The Fires of Heaven (😍)

The Shadow Rising (😘)

The Dragon Reborn (😘)

The Path of Daggers (😘)

New Spring (😘)

The Great Hunt (😄)

The Gathering Storm (😄)

Lord of Chaos (😄)

The Eye of the World (😄)

A Memory of Light (🙂)

Towers of Midnight (🙂)

A Crown of Swords (🙂)

Winter’s Heart (🙂)

...

...

...

...

...

Crossroads of Twilight (😒)

Knife of Dreams (😒)

While I am glad that I did a full reread this time, there are definitely parts of the books that mostly frustrated me and I'll probably just skim past them in future rereads (I suspect I will want to do at least some rereading after S2 airs) -- I'm not sure if I'll ever reread Mat & Perrin's sections of CoT & KoD again. That's essentially the heart of the Slog right there.

Some things that definitely changed for me during this reread:

a. I noticed how much shipping material there is for Cauthor as a pairing (obviously this is mostly in the first five books but there are crumbs even after they separate). Very exciting to me! I didn't go into my reread expecting much, because fanon had definitely affected my memories of Cauthor and I was assuming that their friendship permanently broke in TGH after Mat found out that Rand could channel. Very untrue! I (and many of the other readers, I must assume) was just too young to pick up on all of Mat's subtext back when I first read the books.

b. Gawyn's stock massively rose for me. One of the best points that @markantonys made to me about Gawyn is how similar his 'coping with trauma' behavior is from the outside to Rand's is -- we just spend so much more time in Rand's head that we understand him and his choices better than Gawyn's. And I think that the TV show bears that out a lot because show!Rand got a lot of the same complaints thrown at him as book!Gawyn does. I gained a lot of sympathy for Gawyn over the course of this reread.

c. Min's stock, on the other hand, massively fell. I remembered her as my least favorite of Rand's romances but was still fond of her, but wow, my reread burned away so much of that fondness. Which is kinda a shame, because now it's going to be a genuine effort to make sure that I don't hold the sins of book!Min against show!Min, whereas before I did my reread, I was liking show!Min a lot. But between her (admitted to in her own PoV!) manipulation of Rand to get him to fall in love with (the invented version of) her, the way she acts in their relationship (to pick a few things: trying to force him to be jealous because she thinks it makes the sex hotter; threatening him with knives; reading his mail and trying to burn it before he gets the chance to read it himself; punching him hard enough to make him grunt), and the way she changes herself to suit the person she believes she needs to be to get and keep Rand's attention... it's just yikes all over. She's not my least favorite character in the books, but she's definitely the character who fell the furthest down on my list after my reread.

d. While I didn't like Tuon any better in this reread, Sanderson does set up the Mat & Tuon relationship to be much less.... character-breaking for Mat than it was in CoT & KoD. Mat's brain starts working again around Tuon in AMoL and she actually experiences some minor consequences for her actions, it seems like, instead of just skating through everything on brainwashed autopilot like she did in the Jordan books. I actually feel like the Mat in AMoL is prepared to Do Something about the Seanchan Empire and slavery, while it felt like CoT & KoD Mat would have just rolled over and let Tuon do whatever she wanted because (much like Min) he'd given up his morals and personality for the sake of his prophesied romance.

e. I was able to really parse through and see what I liked and disliked about some of the 'plot shortcuts' that Jordan used -- the ta'veren shortcut of coincidences is mostly fun, because it forces the plot to happen when the main characters are there but gives an explanation for it, but it also affects random things (like people falling off buildings or the rate of weddings in a town), but wow did I dislike some of the heavy-handed romance prophecies and how they mostly seemed to be used to bypass crucial relationship development (especially in Rand/Min and Mat/Tuon).

f. There are also the two major Mat-related plotholes I noticed that still bug me so much, even now, one during Jordan-era and one during Sanderson-era:

Everyone's vow of silence about Mat being trapped in Ebou Dar (Nynaeve is the worst offender because she spends weeks/months with Rand and never bothers to tell him that his best friend was left behind in enemy territory).

Mat's magical teleportation to Ebou Dar at the start of AMoL that completely breaks the logistics of the narrative.

Both in clumsy service of attaching Mat to the Seanchan storyline At All Costs (Even Logic), which really does stand out to me as the worst plot choice that Jordan locked himself into way too early on via prophecy and then didn't know how to handle when it actually showed up on the page.

[dancingskeleton-wishingiwasghost]

Bestie

Disclaimer/edit: This is my first fanfic Ever so please don't be mean. I have never played COD and I have no idea how I ended up in the fandom but I'm here now. Also I typed this on my phone so forgive me for that.

CW: cursing

The silence is... comfortable, all things considered. You, curled up in the corner of the couch with a book you finally have time to read, and Ghost, looking over some papers in the armchair that's seen better days, with a steaming "cuppa" as he likes to call it. You want to tease him about it but well... it's Ghost, your superior and probably the most intimidating person you have ever met and you'd rather not find out the hard way that he doesn't have a sense of humor.

But you two have gotten into a kind of routine where, when there was down time between missions that was just a little too quiet, you'd both end up here in the common area and do your own thing.

So when Soap does a double-take when walking through, asking "Right, what's all this then?," you knew you had to fuck with him.

A glance at Ghost before looking back, "What are you talking about?," sporting a confused look on your face.

"I mean you two hanging out. I've never seen you two together in the same room outside of briefings before."

Back to Ghost and you share a look, hoping your eyes convey that he go along with what you're about to do.

"Of course we'd be hanging out, we're best friends," you give an incredulous look.

"...fuckin' what," Soap gives an incredulous look back.

"Oi! Manage that," Ghost growls.

"Oh fuck you, I was talkin' to Gaz for 5 minutes outside that door and I haven't heard a Sound come out of this room that entire time," Soap says, becoming frustrated.

"That's because our friendship has surpassed the need for words. We're comfortable just being in each other's company," you respond, leaning back into the couch.

"I think you're full of shit 'cause I've never seen you two together or meetin' up except for when necessary," Soap very pointedly says.

"What are you, their mum?" You couldn't be fucking happier that Ghost was going along with this as Soap sends a look his way.

"Yeah! And not that it's any of your business, but we went to karaoke just last week!," bringing the attention back to you.

"Karaoke? Him!? You expect me to believe that?!" You do feel Ghost's stare on the side of your face, probably wondering how you're going to make this in anyway believable.

"Well it's more me singing and him indulging me by coming. He doesn't sing unless I have at least 5 drinks in me but I never remember much afterwards..." trailing off and scrunching up your face, hoping you look like you're trying to remember these made up nights.

Soap glares at you for a moment, trying to find some kind of fault on your face before letting out a sigh.

"Yeah, that actually sounds like something he'd do. Now what was this comment about her mum?" Soap asks, turning towards Ghost.

"I was facetiming her when he came up behind me. Scared the absolute bejeezus out of her enough for her to scold him. When he was finally able to get an apology in she started asking questions as if this was school and not the military! All 'how're they doing?' and 'they getting along with the other soldiers?' It was mortifying! I might as well not have been there the way she was talking. And then- oh and Then! She asked for His number! Can you believe that?!" You deserve a fucking oscar the way you have Soap's attention over this performance.

"'S not my fault she likes me better. Says I'm a delight." The mask gives nothing away but the look in his eyes tell you he's having the time of his life, his arms over the back of the armchair, looking more relaxed than you've ever seen him.

"Oh now I Know you're fucking with me. No offense Ghost but you're about as delightful as steppin' on a pinecone barefoot!" Soap practically spits at him.

"'S not what her mum thinks. She even sent me some treacle tarts."

"She sent you treacle tarts?! She doesn't even make me those!," you get in before Soap can say anything. Never mind that she's never made them before. Ghost gives a shrug while Soap looks back and forth between the two of you, looking like he's trying to grasp at straws.

"Bu-but you're American! You've even said before that both your parents are American!"

"And my mom could have travelled and decided she wanted to have them for the rest of her life after trying them once, you ever think of that? And really? 'I'm American' is the best you can come up with?," you give a pitying look.

"This mean you believe us then? That we're best mates?" Ghost interjects in his gruff voice. Actually hearing him actively going along with the bit and not just throwing in a line or two while you ramble gets your heart racing for some reason. You hope it doesn't show on your face.

"Hell no, do you see that look on their face?!"

Fuck.

"That's because this is the first time I've ever heard him say it and I'm trying not to get emotional, don't ruin this for me," you have no idea where that came from but you barely know what you're saying any this point, "Anyways, as much as I would love to keep listening to you doubt the validity and integrity of Ghost's and my friendship, I have this thing I need to get to that starts riiiight abouut," looking over Soap's shoulder at the clock, "now, at anywhere else but here. So I'm gonna get going. Ghost, you coming?," you ask getting off the couch. You actually feel your heart drop to your ass when he actually gets up too, gathering his things.

Soap's eyes are impossibly wide as he watches the both of you make your way out, flabbergasted. And it is taking everything inside of you to keep yourself neutral, but there's just.. one last thing you have to say before you leave.

"Honestly, I'm really disappointed in you. Acting like we'd do this as a bit just to mess with you. For shame, Soap, for shame. After you," a small smile slips as you hold the door open for Ghost. He nods his head in thanks and, dare you say, almost saunters out.

Soap's eyes widen further and shouts, "Hey!," but the door's already closed.

You and Ghost walk in silence for a period until you're sure you're far enough away.

"You think that last bit was too much?," genuinely curious to how he'll respond.

"I think it was just enough for him to question if the entire thing was a sham or not. He'll be scratchin' his head for weeks after this," his low voice giving away the smirk that's in there. You both stop and look at each other for a pause before you dissolve into a fit of giggles.

"I have - never Seen - Soap look so mad before!," you manage to gasp out, clutching your sides as you fall against the wall, "Oh my God I wonder how long I could have kept that up for! Thank you for going along with me."

"Are you kidding? That's gonna be putting a smile on my face for the next month." And that sends you into another fit, doubling over almost sending you to the ground. Entirely missing the quiet chuckle he lets out.

"I think we could milk this out for another week. What say you? Wanna keep the bit going?," he sticks out his hand, his eyes more playful than you ever knew they could be, that you completely forget to be surprised at his question. A grin creeps up onto your face and you give his hand an enthusiastic shake, wholly ready to commit to the bit.

"Bestie, I think we can make it 2."

[amischiefofmuses]

🎹 the worst roleplay trend i ever saw

🚙 the one thing i will never do in roleplay

📒 three blogs i couldn't live without

MY EXPERIENCE IN THE ROLEPLAYING COMMUNITY || Accepting

Worst trend

The worst trend I've seen isn't really that bad, as I don't really keep up with trends and any really bad ones tend to die out before they reach me I guess??? So, it'd probably have to be the tiny blogs people had for a while, back when you actually had to use blog themes and couldn't just navigate on the dash like we do nowadays. People would have these fucking 500x300px boxes for their whole blog content and while it could be pretty, the accessibility of it was a NIGHTMARE. I don't even have particularly bad eyes but sometimes I'd be squinting at them and their crunchy graphics like 'wtf is happening in this rp rn..?'

Thing I'll never do in RP

Outside of my usual no-go's in my rules, I'd never do a plot where someone's love fully fixes another character's trauma. While I understand why that's an appealing cute lil idea, I remember being FUCKED UP by that when I was younger when seeing people write characters with similar things to what I had but WOW their trauma was solved by some smooches. It's just not how things work, however 'cute' the idea might be, that shit takes time and is messy.

Three blogs I couldn't live without

THIS IS SO HARD- I love my moots so fucking much smh, I can't just do three. I'll at least just stick to doing my mains, just because I'd otherwise not be stopped. @compelledcurator - Feli is legitimately my oldest friend, we've been besties for 17+ years now and it's been a GIFT seeing how she has improved and grown over the years. We're often sharing our rps with each other, going on call and discussing how excited we are about our plots with each other and other people. She does such an amazing job of capturing her characters thoughts and emotions, and also will back and forth on plots so easily with me. A forever fave, she's fucking stuck with me. @ficklefables - Sai is an amazing writer and while I was nervous to write with them at first, we became fast friends tbh couldn't imagine not having them around to write or chatter with???? I always get excited seeing their content on the dash, and I love getting to throw little tidbits out at each other about our nerds. To me, their iterations of their muses are perfect and they're another forever fave that's stuck with my sorry ass. @auroradicit / @hopedefined - While we've not done tons IC here on tumblr, I know Rory as a passionate skilled writer and a LOVELY person, you can tell that they put care into what they write and I respect that so much. Nothing has my attention more than someone who actually loves their muses, cause SAME. Not often someone matches my energy on that shit ahahaha. @bucketfullofocs - Star is a sweetheart who has been there for me in times they really didn't have to, in times we were practically still strangers. Since then I've come to consider them a great friend. Outside of that, they do a great job with their OCs, integrating them in interesting ways into different universes, ensuring they all have unique traits and personalities. Absolutely worth the follow. @cr1msonpeak - Absolutely STUNNINGLY talented writer and a joy to chatter to ooc. We're both very wordy people and it's great to have someone who ends up writing a small novel alongside me ahaha, especially when it's all so artfully written! We haven't talked TONS but whenever we have it's been a joy.