#friend: do you need anything from the store?

[lightseoul]

Hiii congrats on 2k! Can you please do no. 22 for this event. Love you💗

hello, nonnie! thank you so much for the greetings <3 and yes, of course! this was so fun to write lol it practically wrote itself. hope this one makes y'all laugh! and love you too 😚

(this is lightseoul’s 2k milestone event ft. bakugou katsuki! to play, view the numbered list of prompts here, then simply send an ask with your chosen number and i’ll whip something up!)

22. "ARE YOU SINGLE?" (1.3k)

none of this would’ve happened if shitty hair—the hulking brute of a gentleman he begrudgingly calls his best friend—didn’t notice.

they were just taking a short albeit much-needed water break at the tail end of the day-shift patrol, the unforgiving sun having pushed them to near dehydration (as it always does) as they guarded this rather quiet part of the city.

and to be fair, it’s not like he did it on purpose.

he was just briefly but thoroughly scanning the area, like a responsible pro-hero on duty would, when his eyes laid on you.

“what was that?” kirishima, who just downed an entire 500 mL liter of cold water they got from the convenience store a block away, suddenly pipes up from right beside him.

“what.”

when the redhead doesn’t say anything for a beat, bakugou chances a glance at him, only to find the man sporting a shit-eating grin.

bakugou feels himself bristle.

kirishima’s grin only widens. “you just did a double take at that girl.”

“what girl?” bakugou grits out, feigning ignorance.

but any plans he had to keep that charade up practically fly out the proverbial window when the damned hardening hero moves to unabashedly point in your direction, and before his mind can catch up, his body lunges forward to restrain the man’s arm.

the man in question laughs. “i knew it.”

bakugou only scowls at him before shoving him away, as if he wasn’t the one who threw himself onto the guy in panic. kirishima takes it in stride, though, used to years of his friend’s rough treatment, taking the opportunity to look at you instead.

“ooh, she is cute.”

“shut up.”

bakugou fights the urge to follow his friend’s line of vision, knowing all too well what’ll greet him at the end of it.

he admits his gaze might’ve lingered a beat too long, not that he’ll ever admit that to his patrol buddy.

no, he’s taking that secret with him to the grave.

“let’s go say hi.”

bakugou instantly looks up in alarm, but before he can lunge forward again and hold the stupid fucking man back, kirishima is already up and crossing the street, the traffic lights having conveniently turned green for pedestrians just a moment ago.

he pauses for a second, the urge to flee and hide from you before his best friend does something to embarrass him and the curious need to go do say hi raging a tug of war inside of him.

but if there’s one thing he knows for certain as a pro-hero, it’s that a second’s worth of hesitation can cause irrevocable damage.

and so with gritted teeth, he follows suit and crosses the street, and in just a few strides, he finds himself trailing slightly behind the redhead, who’s now merely several feet from where you’re standing, holding to your chest what seems to be a clipboard.

you notice kirishima first, probably having heard the heavy booted footsteps of the two men, turning on your heel at the sound. your eyes widen at the sight, before your face morphs into a look of recognition and… pleasant surprise?

“oh gosh—” you start, eyes annoyingly fixed on his best friend, “—red riot, hello!”

“heya, …” kirishima trails off, and you promptly supply him with your name.

his pr prince of a best friend beams at you. “nice to meet ya!”

and only then does his presence seem to register to you, because your gaze finally drifts to him, and your smile falters for just a millisecond before you school your features into a polite expression.

“hello, mr. dynamight, sir.”

he feels his eye twitch at the salutation, and he doesn’t have to look at the pro-hero beside him to know that the guy is watching the scene before him in mild amusement. he doesn’t know how else to respond if not to ask you why the fuck he’s being treated so formally while you regard shitty hair with subtle familiarity, so he settles with a grunt.

that seems enough to satisfy you, though, because you swiftly turn back to kirishima. “my best friend is a huge fan of yours, by the way.”

and as kirishima readily accepts the compliment and thanks you, bakugou finds his mind singlehandedly honing on what you just said.

your best friend is a huge fan of kirishima, not you.

also, that means your best friend is a fan of his best friend.

and if the four of you were to pair up, perhaps on a double date…

bakugou shakes his head at the thought, and perhaps too aggressively, because he catches both of your attention, the two of you glancing at him with worry.

“you okay, bakubro?”

he steals a glance in your direction, which he instantaneously regrets, because he makes eye contact with you. he immediately averts his gaze, choosing to face the guy instead.

“‘m fine.”

kirishima hesitates. “you sure?”

bakugou only tosses him a glare.

“i’m gonna take that as a yes,” kirishima shoots back, before returning the smile on his face and shifting to regard you. “anyway, we were just taking a short break from patrol and wanted to check in. everything alright here?”

that apparently is enough to make you light up. bakugou’s gut churns in what is absolutely not jealousy.

“yeah, thanks!” you reply, gratitude bleeding into your tone. “i was just—” you trail off, eyes shifting down to that clipboard you’ve been clutching this entire time, before: “you know what, do you guys have a minute?”

“sure!”

“no.”

kirishima whips to look at him. “come on, bakubro! let’s help the citizens out, yeah?”

and bakugou doesn’t know why or how, but his mouth runs off before his brain or heart can dictate to him what to say.

“yeah,” he mutters, “for all i know, this is just a fucking pyramid scheme.”

instantly, the air around the three of you goes quiet.

that is, until kirishima pipes up. “he’s just joki—”

“thanks, red riot—” you cut him off, much to bakugou’s surprise, his eyes shooting up to look at you whose lips are now pulled into a tight line.

“—but i think only dynamight here fits my research’s inclusion criteria.”

your what?

and before he could even comprehend the last three words you just uttered, you bring up your clipboard and pen like you’re about to jot something down, and hit him with it.

“are you single?”

bakugou only gawks at you, too stunned to speak. although he apparently doesn’t have to, because you continue.

“are you?” you repeat, before laughing dryly. “of course you are, what with that fucking attitude…”

at that, kirishima instantly barks out a genuine laugh, his booming voice reverberating throughout the street, even startling the cat perched on top of those large garbage disposals.

bakugou, on the other hand, only gapes at you in horror, because who would’ve thought the pretty girl from across the street was a fucking rude ass potty mouth?

a fucking rude ass potty mouth who could clock him like that?

“does he tend to go speechless like this?” you ask kirishima a few moments later, who’s still shaking in suppressed laughter.

“no,” the pro-hero finally replies after catching his breath. “you’re the first one i’ve ever seen make him this way.”

“really?” you reply, voice low and laced with sarcastic disbelief.

“he is actually single, though,” kirishima quickly adds, much to his chagrin. “…if you’re interested.”

as if on cue, you finally turn to look at bakugou, and he—swear to god—feels his heart stop when you glance at him, something akin to curiosity hidden amidst your features.

but he doesn’t get to bask in it, though, or in its implications, because his dipshit of a best friend drawls on.

“if you are, though, that’s great—”

oh, don’t make him do it.

“—because he finds you very much attra—”

BAM!

[frogs-crackcorner]

Turns out Ghost is an absolute sucker for you. He follows you around the house, to every store, friends house or park. He never leaves your side. He'll do anything you ask. Need the light bulb changed because you can't quite reach it? Done. Need your favorite snack? Already in your hand. A weird guy bugging you at work? He's conveniently gone the next day. Simon is loyal to a fault. So when you look him in the eyes and ask if he will buy you a puppy, how could he say no?

Soap comes home later that night, tripping over bags as he enters. Bags of dog food and puppy toys are stacked near the door. He grumbles to himself as he slips off his boots. "Bonnie, ye better not a done wha I think ye did" he calls as he moves through the house. He finds you sitting on the bed, a ball of fur in your lap. "Wha' is tha' lass?", he drawls.

"Simon helped me picked him out, his name is Ragnar. He's a Belgian malinois. Simon promised to help me train him"

Soap sighs, glaring over at Simon in the chair. Simon huffs a little, not looking up from his book. "She said I wa'n't soft 'nough", he mutters. Soap sighs again and shakes his head, he should have known better.

You've always wanted a dog. It doesn't matter what kind, you'd be happy with any, but no matter how much discussion, Soap never budges, holding the exact opposite opinion about dogs. Which you understand given his experiences with them, but it's still a little disappointing.

Until he compromises one day under the condition he gets to choose the dog. Specifically a guard dog, in his words. One he's known and worked with multiple times. One he trusts to take care of his sweet lass. One that will protect.

You get so excited, you buy the collar and everything, eagerly waiting the day Soap is coming home with the dog... only to be confused when Ghost walks in behind him, no dog in sight.

"Uh, hi, Simon?" You peek around the man. Perhaps the dog is hidden behind the man's massive frame. It's not. "Don't take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?" You shoot Soap a confused look. "And where's the dog you promised me?"

Soap chuckles at your confusion. "He's right here, sweetheart." He pats Ghost's shoulder, and the man takes one big step closer to you, closing the gap within that single stride. The shadow he casts somehow makes him look larger. "You said you'd be happy with anything, and I got you the best one! Ghost'll do anything you say—sit, stay, attack—you'll love him!"

You're not quite convinced. Can't lie and say you're not a little disappointed, but all thoughts of dissatisfaction are briefly forgotten when Ghost reaches down to grab your wrist, the one loosely holding the leather dog collar in hand, and undoes the buckle for you. He then guides your limp hands to slip it around his neck, adjusting it perfectly before letting your hands drop. When he pulls away, a shiver runs through you at the hungry gleam in his eyes, smirk evident in his voice.

"Woof."

You gulp. Maybe Soap is right. Maybe you will love him.

[victormcdicktor]

Please take a moment to help Abood and his wife.

Abood and his wife Maria are struggling to survive the genocide in Ghazzah together since last year.

The home where Abood lived and the clothing store where he worked were both destroyed. He's since been displaced over 10 times, and now lives in a tent with his wife.

The tent is small and does barely anything to protect from the weather. The extreme heat during the summer and the abundance of insects have caused Maria to become very sick. Unfortunately, due to the conditions in Ghazzah, Abood is unable to access medical care for her.

In order to evacuate, they need to raise $40,000 USD. So far, they've raised $36,239; they're getting very close but still need more support!

Do whatever you can to help them; donate if you can and share their campaign! Every contribution matters.

VETTED BY ASSOCIATION

TAG LIST (DM me for removal)

@whisperingmedows @e @rykerpuppy @renmemberme @t0w0bey @teddycuba @yogurtcake2000 @uchorusa @imp-panada @irunkefir @insufferablepilled @ichor-arrows @passion2lovvers @awesomepeoplehangingouttogether @dirkcapitationn @fatalbloomsinmoon @nabulsi @90-ghost @el-shab-hussein @aria-ashryver @northgazaupdates2 @sar-soor @flower-tea-fairies @palestinegenocide @gazagfmboost @palestine-info-uncensored @heba-20 @aces-and-angels @fairycosmos @greenpinkstraw @ibtisams @radicalgraff @r4ms3yy @thestrugglerrr @shug888 @decolonize-the-everything @fototingobug @gaza-evacuation-funds @g3wgaw @greydrits @gainnecorpse @gasfuzbj @hamsterdads @himbo-noxx @heijegerkannibal @juliccardi @jvstcallmespade @kk3o2 @katylokk @keff-fr @literallyneurodivergentandaminor @lenaeeessshhh @la7ma-mafrooma @lutielutik @certified-dentist @cemetaryvampire @chemautopsy @cryptid-catnip @vetted-gaza-funds @vantisanjo @blu-berriez @neptunerings @neatleaf @meit1

@fancysmudges @brokenbackmountain @mothblossoms @aleciosun @fluoresensitive @khizuo @lesbiandardevil @transmutationisms @schoolhater @timogsilangan @appsa @buttercuparry @sayruq @malcriada @palestinegenocide @sar-soor @akajustmerry @feluka @tortiefrancis @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @visenyasdragon @belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @kordeliiius @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish @theropoda @tamarrud @4ft10tvlandfangirl @queerstudiesnatural @northgazaupdates2 @skatezophrenic @awetistic-things @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @nabulsi @sygold @junglejim4322 @heritageposts @chososhairbuns @palistani @dlxxv-vetted-donations @illuminated-runas @imjustheretotrytohelp

(sorry for the randomness of the tags, I just used what popped up. If anyone has advice on how to make a good taglist please tell me)

[personapeters]

bf!kyle spencer headcanons (pre-death) part one ⟡ ݁₊ . ⊹ ࣪ ˖

series links: part one • part two

rating: sfw — contents: kyle just being so boyfriend :p

— bf!kyle who… was sickeningly nervous the first time he said he loves you — but since then, he says it every chance he gets - the end of each phone call, through random texts throughout the day, as you’re falling asleep, in your ear when out in public; whenever.

— bf!kyle who… teases you often - he has no issue with physically showing his affection, but when it’s verbally, he struggles a bit more when it was anything other than an ‘i love you’; poking fun at small things here and there but you know exactly what he means by it and he loves how you can dish it right back at him.

— bf!kyle who… isn’t too keen on public displays of affection but loves physical touch more than anything, so he works around it — sliding a hand into your back pocket while you wait in a line, hooking his fingers into the loops of your jeans, tracing shapes onto your thigh when you’re out to eat with friends.

— bf!kyle who… drives your drunk friends home whenever you need him to, always watching to make sure they get inside safely before driving off — no matter the hour, he was there when they needed him.

— bf!kyle who… enthusiastically introduces himself to your roommate, holding out a gentle hand with a tight, close-lipped smile: “hey, nice t’meet you, ‘m kyle.”

— bf!kyle who… texts you random pictures throughout the day of ‘cool’ things he’s come across — like a duck shaped cloud that does not resemble a duck in the slightest, or a heart shaped potato chip that surprisingly does look almost like a heart.

— bf!kyle who… loves rollercoasters and is constantly begging you to ride them with him — he loves how tightly you grip his hand while bracing yourself for a drop, even if it leaves a mark.

— bf!kyle who… wraps his arms around your waist from behind and rests his head atop of yours while waiting in line for said rollercoasters, lightly swaying the both of you and murmuring in your ear whatever nonsense he can think of to make you laugh.

— bf!kyle who… isn’t too involved with social media, sometimes posting a random photo here and there, but never misses an opportunity to comment on your pictures: “hot” - “ur actually insane” - “i took that :p” - “ive seen it u can take it down now lol”

— bf!kyle who… is extremely smart, regardless of the stereotype, helping you study any and every subject — if it’s something he doesn’t know, he’d attempt to teach himself just so he could help.

— bf!kyle who… does anything he thinks will make you smile, just for the sake of seeing it — poking at your sides, pulling faces at inappropriate times that he knows could get you both in trouble, reciting cliche jokes with a playful smirk to make you cringe.

— bf!kyle who… asks you to recite your notes aloud to him whenever you’re studying, laying his head on your lap as you do - he says it helps to retain the information, which is true, but he mostly just enjoys hearing your voice and watching you speak.

— bf!kyle who… loves taking you to book stores, offering to buy each and every book you show an ounce of interest to: “y’like that one? grab it… y’don’t have to need it to want it, babe… okay, fine, then i want it… yeah, maybe i’ll let you borrow it,” with a wink.

— bf!kyle who… loves when you sleepover and wear his university branded t-shirts, loving how the ends rest just above your mid-thigh: “think you should keep this… looks way better on you.”

— bf!kyle who… supports every extracurricular activity you do with the upmost effort — like showing up to each and every soccer game, sitting at the very bottom of the bleachers to see you the closest, cheering along with the other friends and families in the stadium, yelling, “that’s my girl!” with an abundance of pride, wanting everyone to know exactly who he was there for.

— bf!kyle who… is a golden retriever puppy in human form - his big, dark eyes and soft, blonde hair representing the physical aesthetic, while his curious, loyal, unconditionally loving, energetic spirit embodies the overall nature.

— bf!kyle who… doesn’t like to let you drive, wanting to be the one to escort you wherever you wanted to go. whenever you’d protest, he’d say you’re music taste was way better than his and he needed you to be the designated dj for every single car ride.

— bf!kyle who… loves to leave small kisses all over your body whenever he could — specifically on the curve of your jaw, the tip of your nose and the back of your hands; always letting his mouth linger for a few seconds before breaking the connection.

— bf!kyle who… tries his hardest to open each and every door for you - blaming it on “southern hospitality” when in reality, he just wants you to feel as special as he knows you are.

— bf!kyle who… occasionally brings you around his fraternity brothers when he has to, but only briefly and at a distance - he’d keep you tucked safely behind him, keeping his fingers loosely laced with yours as he greets the men and dismisses the two of you in the same breath.

— bf!kyle who… loves kneading softly at your thighs as he falls asleep — it starting as a way to comfort you but now, he often finds himself absentmindedly tracing and gripping at the plush flesh like a kitten as he slowly drifts to sleep.

— bf!kyle who… plays video games every once in a while, forcing you to play with him and on days where you would simply watch - he’d request you sit on his lap because from there, ‘the view’s much better.’ — and admittedly, it was.

— bf!kyle who… would try and surprise you with home baked goods for the sake of creating something for you all on his own. he’d hand you the container full of sweets with a bright, cheesy grin on his face which only further prompted you to ignore the jarring crunch of eggshells in your mouth upon tasting them.

— bf!kyle who… would always try to keep a hair tie on his wrist or in his pocket, just incase you or one of your friends needed it.

— bf!kyle who… would absolutely melt whenever you ran your nails through his hair, lightly swirling the tufts between your fingers and smoothing them downwards behind his ears — nothing in the world could soothe him faster.

— bf!kyle who… never lets you walk back to your dorm alone — it was never up for discussion, no matter the circumstance.

— bf!kyle who… blushes super easily, the apples of his cheeks and tips of his ears often turning pink whenever you’d casually compliment him or even send him a smile from across the room.

— bf!kyle who… warns you it will be cold but, telling you to bring a jacket of your own but secretly loves when you don’t; just so he can give you his — loving how the sleeves stop way past your fingers and how the hood slips over your eyes again and again, no matter how many times you push it back up.

— bf!kyle who… doesn’t get jealous often — obviously, he doesn’t love when he catches guys ogling at you, but it doesn’t really affect him unless he feels like you’re being a little too nice in return - in reality, it’s a very average amount of platonic common courtesy, no fault of your own - was still way too much, in his opinion.

— bf!kyle who… always considers your friends with each decision he makes involving them — he never stays too late in your dorm, nor does he ever try to convince you to bail on plans with them in order to spend more time with him; although, he really wants to.

— bf!kyle who… makes a huge deal out of things you beg him not to - having little gifts and flowers awaiting you on his bed whenever you ace a big exam or win a tournament or competition of any assortment; although, he would always have them for you regardless, even if you ‘failed’.

— bf!kyle who… takes care of you when you’re sick as if your life depends on it — constantly pressing the back of his hand to your forehead to make sure you aren’t too hot, offering to make you even more tea that inevitably collects among the half-drunken cups on your nightstand, and checking the time to determine if it’s been long enough since your last doseae of medicine before he administers you more — he’d jokingly say, “euughh” whenever you’d blow your nose while simultaneously throwing the dirty tissues away for you with a small smile.

— bf!kyle who… keeps a polaroid of the two of you from one of your earlier dates in his wallet — his fraternity brothers would see it and endlessly tease and chastise him for it, but the soft grin on his face from the memory would never dare to falter.

— bf!kyle who… never wants you to pay for anything, especially when you’re with him — he doesn’t exactly fit in the ‘broke college student’ stereotype due to his scholarships floating him through, so he wanted to use his money for better things - like you.

— bf!kyle who… uses ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ far more than the average person — “can you stay at mine tonight, please?” - “no, thanks, baby but thank you.” - “please be careful, please?”

— bf!kyle who… never speaks up when his order is wrong, and begs you not to either, not wanting to be a bother to anyone. yet, you still do, as politely and kind as possible - solving the problem.

— bf!kyle who… secretly loves gossip - letting you spill every detail you have in full depth, listening attentively with furrowed eyebrows and lips parted when the drama get’s particularly juicy.

— bf!kyle who… isn’t too fond of horror movies, but forcibly watches them with arms wrapped tight around your waist and his face in the crook of your neck, under the guise of ‘protecting’ you.

— bf!kyle who… never forgets anything you tell him about yourself, no matter what it is — your shoe size, siblings names, childhood pets - your favorite color, flower, movie, tv show, artist, song, food, dessert, drink, candy, ice cream, scent, fabric, sport; the list really could go on and on. it always surprises you when he mentions something you completely forgot ever telling him, and he only smiles with a small shrug, happy with himself for it.

— bf!kyle who… buys you a shirt matching his own whenever you mention liking it — sure, he could give you his, and he often does, but he also really loves surprising you with a smaller version of his own attire, grinning like an idiot whenever you put it on.

— bf!kyle who… listens to your music playlists whenever he’s in class, wanting to like what you like and understand you just that much better.

— bf!kyle who… never does anything physically without asking first, no matter the degree: “this okay?” - “can i…?” - “tell me if you want me to stop, please.”

— bf!kyle who… will stop you in the middle of walking to tie your shoe, pulling your foot onto his crouched knee to entangle the laces before lightly patting your ankle when he’s done, smiling fondly up at you.

— bf!kyle who… texts you menial updates throughout the day, just for the sake of starting a conversation: “just saw a bird steal a nut or somthin from a squirrel… lifes crazy :0”

 personapeters 2024 — all rights reserved • masterlist

[hannamoon143]

Street by Street- Laufey

Hwang Hyunjin with Street by Street from Laufey for the fall series

Genre: Angst, somewhat hurt/comfort?

Warnings: crying, nothing rlly

Wordcount: 1k

Fall series masterlist

a/n: this song requested by my pookie @skyberrybahng. Here we go with hyunnn, lemme know how yall like it, i dunno exactly how i went with this one. but yesss, have a cozy fall! <33

not proofread

„I’m taking back my city, taking back my life.“

Yes that’s what you’d do now.

After your and hyunjin’s breakup you avoided him in the best ways possible. If you had to go grocery shopping you’d drive to the other end of the town, and for work you only took your car. And besides that, you didn’t go out at all. Since hyunjin was only living two streets from you the possibility to meet him was just too big.

 It wasn’t that you two broke up in such a awful state that it was super traumatic. But that was the thing that made it so horrible for you. You saw it coming weeks before, everything slowly breaking. When he’d call you clingy and annoying for the smallest things, when he’d not make any time for you anymore, or snap at you also if you didn’t do anything wrong. Until it just reached the point where your relationship seemed to be nothing more than a burden to the both of you. So at the end it was mostly just agreeing to being not a couple anymore. He wasn’t able to deal with his life, so he let it out on you, and you were hurting because of the way your relationship was going.  You knew it could have ended way worse, and other people would be relieved that the break up was without much anger and fighting at the end. But as i said, that was exactly what hurt the most for you. Months of hurt and misunderstandings, that maybe could have been fixed with a long, calm talk, but instead just led to a numb break up.

You knew you couldn’t keep living like this. Doing everything to avoid hyunjin, totally minimizing your social life. And for some reason you woke up today, and wanted to change this lifestyle. After all you couldn’t be a social wreck just because of a man, that wasn’t even a part of your life anymore. So you picked out your clothes, and then headed out for work. It wasn’t far away from your apartment but it was the first time you were walking since the breakup.

The streets were holding painful memories. The little cafe you worked in when hyunjin and you first met, the bookshop where you had your first book date with him when it started to rain all of a sudden. You remembered every little detail. His cute dumpling laugther making the rainy day brighter, the books he was reading to you, and how he slowly brushed his fingers through your hair, your head on his lap, when you were telling him some of your favorite quotes. But that was at the start. Way before everything started to crumble.

You pierced your gaze away from the window of the bookshop, slowly going your way again. Everything in this little town was reminding you of him in some sort of way. The park you used to have picnics together. The convience store you always went to with him. The cinema where you started crying because of a sad movie, and how he then just scooped you into his arms and comforted you as if something tragical happened. But that was probably what you needed. You had to remind yourself first that all this was in the past, to let go. You wouldn’t regret any of these times with him. But you wouldn’t regret the break up either. You always knew that he’d move on before you’d do. He was just like this, and you would be lying if you’d say you didn’t stalk him a bit after it ended. He seemed happy. Often he’d be in instagram stories of his friends, on parties or random hangouts. It always stung in your heart. But you saw clearer now. He moved on, and you would do this now too. This town wasn’t just his. And you would make him know now.

Later that day, felix, one of hyunjin’s close friends texted you something about how he saw him making out with another girl at a party and he felt the need to tell you or something. For a second you thought about just blocking him, but felix was always a nice guy, always being kind to you. So you just thanked him and said bye.

 And if you were being honest? You could almost thank hyunjin for that, because that was what you needed to finally move on. You’d been sitting at home all day, except when you were at work, since the break up, pushing the knife only deeper by yourself, in never ending self pity the last months. But now, this last little push from him, was all it took. You ripped the knife out, and now, you would heal. That was the promise you gave yourself.

 And later when hyunjin would pass by you on the streeet with the girl on his arm, you’d just greet him with a bittersweet hello, and walk by. How you would probably do it with every other person on the street. You saw exactly that he had a guilty look on his face, and that the girl was a bit hesitant, but you just walked by. One month ago you would have gone home and broke down, but now it couldn’t hurt you anymore. You were claiming back this city. And oh, not just this city. Also your life, that hyunjin seemed to take with him when you two fell apart. But you were taking it back, brick by brick, no matter what it costs.

And one day, he would be the one that would walk by you, with no one by his side, And he’d see a confident, happy woman, that didn’t even seemed to notice him. And the grieve and pain that you now left behind you, would slowly catch up to him.He knew it was mostly his own fault it was like this now. But still, he wished he could cry in your arms, like he used to when he was frustrated. That you’d just come over and hold him until the storm in his mind and his heart would be calmer. But instead he’d go home, and sit in his apartment, that was suddenly way too silent and empty if you’d ask him.

taglist: @onementally-unstabel-kid @lina-linny @0omillo0 @darqlys

[tamquamalteradam]

help me with my uni project — questions for queer teens living in queerphobic environments: what are some challenges you face in accessing queer books and how do you overcome them? 🌈📚

Hey guys it's been a while! Truly sorry for long time no TRC content, I have been struggling with life ajfdhskadfj. Pls help with my bookish project for uni, I know there are a lot of y'all queer bookish people on here. I'm doing my senior capstone project on increasing access to queer books in the U.S., especially given the rising book bans and hostility towards queer people and themes. Queer books are so important to me, they helped me find my community (and my girlfriend! lol) and were a source of safety when my family was not. However, I grew up in California and always had easy access to queer books in my public/school libraries. Since I don't have personal experience not having access, I really want to hear from people who are experiencing this to better inform my project! If you have time to comment some thoughts in response to these questions, I'll be so grateful! You don't have to answer them all, any comment would be helpful!

What are some challenges you face in accessing physical queer books?

Are these books just not in schools/libraries/stores at all, or are they there but needing transportation/cost poses a challenge?

Is being seen holding or browsing overtly queer books a concern?

What are some challenges you face in accessing digital queer books (e-books, audiobooks, etc.)?

If you find it hard to buy/borrow digital queer books, what is the barrier (cost, needing a parent's credit card info, needing to sign up for a library card, etc.)?

What are some ways you still manage to get your hands on the queer books that you want to read?

Are there any websites that you have found useful?

Are there any frustrations with these sites and ways you think they could be improved?

If there was a "free online bookstore" of queer books where you could apply to receive a free copy, would you prefer to get it as an e-book, or as a physical book (if discreet shipping was an option)?

Where do you usually hear about queer books that you would like to read (Instagram, TikTok, friends, etc.?)

Anything else about your experience with accessing/not being able to access queer books would be appreciated!

(If you wanna private message your answers, pls do so! I'm also on Instagram with the same username)

Thank you sooo much in advance! 💗

[munson-blurbs]

could you write argyle x shy!reader headcanons? i feel like their dynamic would be so cute

I may have gotten carried away 🫣 smutty headcanons under the cut.

Argyle is such a sucker for his shy girl

When he first sees you, he’s immediately dumbstruck

He’s bringing a pizza to your table of friends and rambles about god knows what

“Uh, hey, here’s your pizza. I’m, um, Argyle. If you need anything. Like napkins. I see you, uh, have napkins, but if you need more…I have napkins in the back. Of the store. There’s lots of napkins. No napkin shortage here. It’s sad for the trees but good for, uh, spills.”

He makes you smile without even meaning to

One of your friends goes up to him later and gives him your number

When he calls and asks you out, it’s more rambling where he’s trying to sound casual but utterly fails

“Do you like movies? Yeah, me, too. Oh, hey, we should see one together! Maybe Friday night, if you’re free. Or if not, that’s cool. Well, not cool because I’d be super bummed. But no pressure or anything, man. I mean, woman.”

When you accept, Argyle takes you on a date

He lets you pick the movie

He does the yawn-and-stretch, his heart beating a million miles an hour

And then you carefully snuggle into him and his brain goes HOLY SHIT

Man literally doesn’t move the entire time except to very gingerly take popcorn from the bucket you’re sharing

Once you’re officially together, Argyle introduces you to Jonathan

You’re nervous about meeting his best friend, and he calms you down

“You have nothing to worry about, princesa. Byers’ll be on his best behavior. He knows not to mess with my girl.”

(What you don’t know is that Argyle threatened to cut off Jonathan’s supply of Purple Palm Tree Delight if he made one wrong move.)

Speaking of when you get nervous, especially in social situations, Argyle is the king of forehead kisses

He just goes, “hey, look at me” and then leans in and MWAH on your forehead

Argyle always lets you braid his hair

If you’ve never smoked before, he teaches you how, never laughing when you cough

“Just a little inhale. There ya go, mi querida.”

He loves watching you get comfortable with the people he cares about

The first time you (lovingly) make fun of Jonathan, Argyle bursts out laughing

“Well, you do look like Ringo if his mom gave him a bowl cut!”

Argyle loooooves holding your hand

He always does that little thumb-rubbing thing as a way to remind you that you’re safe with him

NSFW BELOW

You’re not super into PDA, but you do love make-out sessions in the back of his van

The first time you make out with him in the back of his van, he gets really into it

Like, cums in his pants after dry humping for a few minutes

Not so dry after that

One thing Argyle did not expect is how loudly his shy girl moans

You’re breathless and squirming beneath him, arching your back as he pulls you close

When you realize how noisy you’re being, you nervously bite your lower lip, but he takes his thumb and draws your lip from under your teeth

“Even your moans are beautiful, amor. Please let me hear them.”

Always asking you what you like

“Does this feel good? Just wanna make you feel good. Fuck, I’ll do anything for you.”

His favorite is when you straddle his waist, the two of you shotgunning a joint until you’re both too giggly to smoke any more

“I’m gonna kiss those pretty little lips right off of your pretty little face. God, I love you, baby.”

[voidartisan]

tbh i think the best part of living and interacting mostly with fellow gen Z'ers at school is that we can just effortlessly communicate and makes jokes through vine references. no worries about having to explain to our gen x parents what's being said. pure and simple understanding.

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done

[skunkes]

if life is categorized by Before Loss and After Loss then I exist in the before but with a countdown to the after. and the countdown is always always present and debilitating. the loss will be debilitating too but i cant help myself. i will always suffer twice.

[ilikecarsandlike4people]

Just wanted to take a minute to say how grateful I am for all of the people in my life. For the friends who've listened to my endless rants about the medical system, for those, who've helped me carry groceries up the stairs. For those who've driven me to appointments and stayed with me. For those who've dropped messages and asks, or reached out for support. For the friends and complete strangers who've been so generous and helped me deal with food and medical bills, and for those who've placed orders...

I am... a bit overwhelmed by the love around me. Just very very grateful I have so many wonderful, kind people around who've stayed with me and continue to stay with me.

I love you.

And I wish I had enough words to really express how deeply it has helped me keep moving on. I hope that one day I can somehow repay all the kindness you've showed me.

Thank you

-R

[cryolyst]

~

[angerygoomba]

listening to ants from up there like a normal healthy person that has relationships that they know will thrive and will not be lost and is certain of their future and enjoys whats happening today and what was happening yesterday and last week and last month. and im cool about it

[majorplayer]

i moved to a new place 3 months ago and the best internet here is so bad (17mbps....without vpn enabled) that i can't reliably play MMOs, at least not ones like toontown servers since they fully kick you off the game the literal millisecond your connection gets funky in any way. i can actually play most roblox games as long as i'm ok with a lot of textures never loading and me rubberbanding a lot, but toontown is so triggerhappy about kicking you off that i just can't play it without fear of being reported for "maliciously alt+f4ing" or something. or worse, DCing with pace at 100 health. so i haven't fucking played clash in these 3 months. i gave it as long as i could to see if i could adjust to this shit ass internet but i have been so upset that i can't play clash that i'm about to get fucking starlink. like. clash is honest to god my #1 motivation for it. i want elon musk to sudoku as much as anyone else on this website but by god would starlink save my life. a couple of my neighbors have it and they get 100mbps. omfg. i can't even fathom what 50mbps would be like, much less 100. i had 200mbps at my childhood home that i just moved out of. life could be a dream. anyways so basically i'm spending almost my entire next paycheck on starlink because i want to play clash again without getting banned for constantly disconnecting

[notjanine]

i hung out with both of them again over the weekend and it's going really well* and this is still wild to me. it's been exactly what i needed- just easy and good, and good in different ways bc they're so different from each other! but i don't think i've fully described either here

Bookstore: very tall. verrry sexy voice. nb and bi. does not do small talk.** similar taste in media to my own, esp movies, book genres, and spooky podcasts; every time we hang out is like (sexually charged) book club. big nose. always looks exhausted (hot). younger than me but an oldest sibling and lowkey has oldest sister syndrome, but not in a bad way.

Tech Guy: medium height. v round. v much a standard normal straight guy*** but sweet? adventurous- seems kinda boring and normcore, but the lore keeps getting wilder. he's iranian (initiated his citizenship process immediately after the 2016 election (can successfully navigate bureaucracy (hot))) and has offered to take me on a date to his favorite little middle eastern grocery.**** maintains the exact level of beard scruff that makes me craaaazy. the EYEBROWS on this bitch!! older than me but a youngest sibling (with sisters, so like. he seems to understand that women are human beings).

Both: soft hands.***** lots of friends, including platonic female friends. dislike going out and doing things alone, except for going to the movies, which they do often. when asked what dnd class would you be, personally, like you as the person you are now, both said... bard.****** idk how to feel ab that one.

so i like them both and i'm also glad i started seeing them at the same time, bc i think if it was just one or the other, things would have gotten too intense too fast (bc they both like me A LOT and i'mmmmm enjoying that more than i would have expected, i am tempted to overindulge in such adoration). as-is, i've made a list of guidelines for myself that's helping me to maintain boundaries and keep things as tidy as i can. it helps that they're both good at communicating and planning!

anyway next weekend i'm hanging out with the two friends who set me up with these ppl and i need to think of something very good and special to bring them to say thanks!!!

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 57

Chapter Highlights (most of the chapter is the highlight lol)

An hour before dawn, the keep and two armies beyond it were stirring.

Rowan had barely slept, and instead lain awake beside Aelin, listening to her breathing.

That the rest of them slumbered soundly was testament to their exhaustion, though Lorcan had not found them again. Rowan was willing to bet it was by choice.

It was not fear or anticipation of battle that had kept Rowan up—no, he'd slept well enough during other wars. But rather the fact that his mind would not stop looping him from thought to thought to thought.

He'd seen the numbers camped outside.

Valg, human men loyal to Erawan, some fell beasts, yet nothing like the ilken or the

Wyrdhounds, or even the witches.

Aelin could wipe them away before the sun had fully risen. A few blasts of her power, and that army would be gone.

Yet she had not presented it as an option in their planning last night.

He'd seen the hope shining in the eyes of the people in the keep, the awe of the children as she'd passed. The Fire-Bringer, they'd whispered. Aelin of the Wildfire.

How soon would that awe and hope crumble today when not a spark of that fire was unleashed? How soon would the men's fear turn rank when the Queen of Terrasen did not wipe away Morath's legions?

He hadn't been able to ask her. Had told himself to, had roared at himself to ask these past few weeks, when even their training hadn't summoned an ember.

But he couldn't bring himself to demand why she wouldn't or couldn't use her power, why they had seen or felt nothing of it after those initial few days of freedom. Couldn't ask what Maeve and Cairn had done to possibly make her fear or hate her magic enough that she didn't touch it.

Worry and dread gnawing at him, Rowan slipped from the room, the din of preparations greeting him the moment he entered the hall. A heartbeat later, the door opened behind him, and steps fell into sync with his own, along with a familiar, wicked scent.

"They burned her."

Rowan glanced sidelong at Fenrys. "What?" But Fenrys nodded to a passing healer.

"Cairn—and Maeve, through her orders."

"Why are you telling me this?" Fenrys, blood oath or no, what he'd done for Aelin or no, was not privy to these matters. No, it was between him and his mate, and no one else.

Fenrys threw him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "You were staring at her half the night. I could see it on your face. You're all thinking it—why doesn't she just burn the enemy to hell?" Rowan aimed for the washing station down the hall. A few soldiers and healers stood along the metal trough, scrubbing their faces to shake the sleep or nerves.

Fenrys said, "He put her in those metal gauntlets. And one time, he heated them over an open brazier. There…" He stumbled for words, and Rowan could barely breathe. "It took the healers two weeks to fix what he did to her hands and wrists. And when she woke up, there was nothing but healed skin. She couldn't tell what had been done and what was a nightmare." Rowan reached for one of the ewers that some of the children refilled every few moments and dumped it over his head. Icy water bit into his skin, drowning out the roaring in his ears.

"Cairn did many things like that." Fenrys took up a ewer himself, and splashed some into his hands before rubbing them over his face.

Rowan's hands shook as he watched the water funnel toward the basin set beneath the trough.

"Your claiming marks, though." Fenrys wiped his face again. "No matter what they did to her, they remained. Longer than any other scar, they stayed."

Yet her neck had been smooth when he'd found her.

Reading that thought, Fenrys said, "The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That's when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen."

The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her. Even the greatest healers in the world hadn't been able to take that from her until then.

Rowan wiped his face on the arm of his jacket. "Why are you telling me this?" he repeated.

Fenrys rose from the trough, drying his face with the same lack of ceremony. "So you can stop wondering what happened. Focus on something else today." The warrior kept pace beside him as they headed for where they'd been told a meager breakfast would be laid out.

"And let her come to you when she's ready."

"She's my mate," Rowan growled. "You think I don't know that?" Fenrys could shove his snout into someone else's business.

Fenrys held up his hands. "You can be brutal, when you want something."

"I'd never force her to tell me anything she wasn't ready to say." It had been their bargain from the start. Part of why he'd fallen in love with her.

He should have known then, during those days in Mistward, when he found himself sharing parts of himself, his history, that he'd never told anyone. When he found himself needing to tell her, in fragments and pieces, yes, but he'd wanted her to know. And Aelin had wanted to hear it. All of it.

They discovered Aelin and Elide already at the buffet table, grim-faced as they plucked up pieces of bread and cheese and dried fruit. No sign of Gavriel or Lorcan.

Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay.

She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?"

Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.

The four of them ate quickly, refilled their waterskins at the fountain in an interior courtyard, and set about finding armor. There was little on the upper levels that was fit for wearing, so they descended into the keep, deeper and deeper, until they came across a locked room.

"Should we, or is it rude?" Aelin mused, peering at the wooden door.

Rowan sent a spear of his wind aiming for the lock and splintered it apart. "Looks like it was already open when we got here," he said mildly.

Aelin gave him a wicked grin, and Fenrys pulled a torch off its bracket in the narrow stone hallway to illuminate the room beyond.

"Well, now we know why the rest of the keep is a piece of shit," Aelin said, surveying the trove. "He's kept all the gold and fun things down here."

Indeed, his mate's idea of fun things was the same as Rowan's: armor and swords, spears and ancient maces.

"He couldn't have distributed this?" Elide frowned at the racks of swords and daggers.

"It's all heirlooms," said Fenrys, approaching one such rack and studying the hilt of a sword. "Ancient, but still good. Really good," he added, pulling a blade from its sheath.

He glanced at Rowan. "This was forged by an Asterion blacksmith."

"From a different age," Rowan mused, marveling at the flawless blade, its impeccable condition. "When Fae were not so feared."

"Are we just going to take it? Without even Chaol's permission?" Elide chewed on her lip.

Aelin snickered. "Let's consider ourselves swords-for-hire. And as such, we have fees that need to be paid." She hefted a round, golden shield, its edges beautifully engraved with a motif of waves. Also Asterion-made, judging by the craftsmanship. Likely for the Lord of Anielle— the Lord of the Silver Lake. "So, we'll take what we're owed for today's battle, and spare His Lordship the task of having to come down here himself."

Gods, he loved her.

Fenrys winked at Elide. "I won't tell if you don't, Lady."

Elide blushed, then waved them onward. "Collect your earnings, then."

Rowan did. He and Fenrys found armor that could fit them—in certain areas. They had to forgo the entire suit, but took pieces to enforce their shoulders, forearms, and shins. Rowan had just finished strapping greaves on his legs when Fenrys said, "We should bring some of this up for Lorcan and Gavriel."

Indeed they should. Rowan eyed other pieces, and began collecting extra daggers and blades, then sections from another suit that might fit Lorcan, Fenrys doing the same for Gavriel.

"You must charge a great deal for your services," Elide muttered. Even while the Lady of Perranth tied a few daggers to her own belt.

"I need some way to pay for my expensive tastes, don't I?" Aelin drawled, weighing a dagger in her hands.

But she hadn't donned any armor yet, and when Rowan gave her an inquiring glance, Aelin jerked her chin toward him. "Head upstairs-track down Lorcan and Gavriel. I'll find you soon."

Her face was unreadable for once. Perhaps she wanted a moment alone before battle. And when Rowan tried to find any words in her eyes, Aelin turned toward the shield she'd claimed. As if contemplating it.

So Rowan and Fenrys headed upstairs, Elide helping to haul their stolen gear. No one stopped them. Not with the sky turning to gray, and soldiers rushing to their positions on the battlements.

Rowan and Fenrys didn't have far to go.

They'd be stationed by the gates at the lower level, where the battering rams might come flying through if Morath got desperate enough.

On the level above them, Chaol sat astride his magnificent black horse, the mare's breath curling from her nostrils. Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, and Chaol saluted back before gazing toward the enemy army.

The khaganate would make the first maneuver, the initial push to get Morath moving.

"I always forget how much I hate this part," Fenrys muttered. "The waiting before it begins."

Rowan grunted his agreement.

Gavriel prowled up to them, Lorcan a dark storm behind him. Rowan wordlessly handed the latter the armor he'd gathered. "Courtesy of the Lord of Anielle." Lorcan gave him a look that said he knew Rowan was full of shit, but began efficiently donning the armor, Gavriel doing the same.

Whether the soldiers around them marked that armor, whether Chaol recognized it, no one said a word.

"Ready now," Chaol called out to the men of his keep.

This would be it—today. Whether that hope remained or fractured.

Already, the awakening sky revealed two siege towers being hauled toward them. Right to the wall. Far closer than Rowan had last noted when flying overhead last night. Morath, it seemed, had not been sleeping, either.

The ruks would remain back with their own army, driving Morath to the keep. To be picked off here, one by one.

"We have minutes until that first tower makes contact with the wall," Gavriel observed. A scan of the battlements, the soldiers atop them, revealed no sign of Aelin. Lorcan indeed muttered, "Someone better tell her to stop primping and get here." Rowan snarled in warning.

"Archers!" Chaol's bellow rang out. Behind them, down the battlements, bows groaned. Fenrys unslung the bow across his back and nocked an arrow into place.

Rowan kept his own bow strapped across his back, the quiver untouched, Gavriel and Lorcan doing the same. No need to waste them on a few soldiers when their aim might be needed with far worse targets later in the day.

But one of them had to be noted felling soldiers. For whatever it would do to rally their spirits. And Fenrys, as fine an archer as Rowan, he'd admit, would do just fine.

Rowan followed the line of Fenrys's arrowhead to where he'd marked one of the bearers of a siege ladder. "Make it impressive," he muttered.

"Mind your own business," Fenrys muttered back, tracking his target with the tip of his arrow as he awaited Chaol's order.

If Aelin didn't arrive within another moment, he'd have to leave the battlements to find her. What in hell had held her up?

Lorcan drew his ancient blade, which Rowan had witnessed felling soldiers in kingdoms far from here, in wars far longer than this one. "They'll head for the gates when that siege tower docks," Lorcan said, glancing from the battlements to the gate a level below, the small bastion of men in front of it. Trees had been felled to prop up the metal doors, but should a solid enough group of enemy soldiers swarm it, they might get those supports and the heavy locks down within minutes. And open the gates to the hordes beyond

"We don't let them get that far," Rowan said, eyeing up the massive tower lumbering closer. Soldiers teemed behind it, waiting to scale its interior. "Chaol brought the tower down the other day without our help. It can happen again."

"Volley!" Chaol's roar echoed off the stones, and arrows sang.

Like a swarm of locusts, they swept upon the soldiers marching below. Fenrys's arrow found its mark with lethal precision.

Within a heartbeat, another was on its tail. A second soldier at the siege ladder fell.

Where the hell was Aelin—

Morath didn't halt. Marched right over the soldiers who fell on their front lines.

The pulse of human fear down the battlements rippled against his skin. The cadre would have to strike fast, and strike well, to shake it away.

The siege tower lumbered closer. One glance from Rowan had him and his friends moving toward the spot it would now undeniably strike upon the battlements. Close enough to the stairs down to the gate. Morath had chosen the location well.

Some of the soldiers they passed were praying, a shuddering push of words into the frigid morning air.

Lorcan said to one of them, "Save your breath for the battle, not the gods."

Rowan shot him a look, but the man, gaping at Lorcan, quieted.

Chaol ordered another volley, and arrows flew, Fenrys firing as he walked. As if he were barely bothered.

Still, the whispered prayers continued down the line, swords shaking along with them.

Up by Chaol, the soldiers held firm, faces solid.

But here, on this level of the battlements ... those faces were pale. Wide-eyed.

"Someone better say something inspiring," Fenrys said through gritted teeth, firing another arrow. "Or these men are going to piss themselves in a minute."

For a minute was all they had left, as the first siege tower inched closer.

"You've got the pretty face," Lorcan retorted. "You'd do a better job of it."

"It's too late for speeches," Rowan cut in before Fenrys could reply. "Better to show them what we can do."

Rowan steadied his breathing, readying his magic to rip through Valg lungs. He'd fell a few with his blades first. To show how easily it could be done, that Morath was desperate and victory would be near. The magic would come later.

The siege tower groaned as it slowed to a stop.

Just as the wall under them shuddered at its impact, Fenrys whispered, "Holy gods."

Not at the bridge that snapped down, soldiers teeming in the dark depths inside.

But at who emerged from the keep archway behind them. What emerged.

Rowan didn't know where to look. At the soldiers pouring out of the siege tower, leaping onto the battlements, or at Aelin.

At the Queen of Terrasen.

She'd found armor below the keep. Beautiful, pale gold armor that gleamed like a summer dawn. Holding back her braided hair, a diadem lay flush against her head. Not a diadem, but a piece of armor. Part of some ancient set for a lady long since buried.

A crown for war, a crown to wear into battle. A crown to lead armies.

There was no fear on her face, no doubt, as Aelin hefted her shield, flipping Goldryn in her hand once before the first of Morath's soldiers was upon her.

A swift, upward strike cleaved the Morath grunt from navel to chin. His black blood sprayed, but she was already moving, flowing like a stream around a rock.

Rowan launched into movement, his blades finding their marks, but still he watched her.

Aelin slammed her shield against an oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through another before she plunged the blade into the soldier she'd deflected.

She did it again, and again.

All while heading toward that siege tower. Unhindered. Unleashed.

A call went down the line. The queen has come.

Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward them. Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left them dying on the stones.

She planted her line before the gaping maw of that siege tower, right in the path of those teeming hordes. Every moment of the training she'd done on the ship here, on the road, every new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself for this.

The queen has come.

Goldryn unfaltering, her shield an extension of her arm, Aelin glowed like the sun that now broke over the khagan's army as she engaged each soldier that hurtled her way.

Five, ten—she moved and moved and moved, ducking and swiping, shoving and flipping, black blood spraying, her face the portrait of grim, unbreaking will.

"The queen!" the men shouted. "To the queen!"

And as Rowan fought his way closer, as that cry went down the battlements and Anielle men ran to aid her, he realized that Aelin did not need an ounce of flame to inspire men to follow.

That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.

He'd never seen such a glorious sight. In every land, every battle, he had never seen anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat of the siege tower, holding the line.

Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed a battle cry and tore into Morath.

This first battle would set the tone.

It would set the tone, and send a message.

Not to Morath.

Impress us, Hasar had said.

So she would. So she'd picked the golden armor and her battle-crown. And waited until dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the battlements, before unleashing herself.

To keep the men here from breaking, to wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.

To convince the khaganate royals of what she might do, what she could do. Not a threat, but a reminder.

She was no helpless princess. She had never been.

Goldryn sang with each swipe, her mind as cool and sharp as the blade while she assessed each enemy soldier, their weapons, and took them down accordingly. She dimly knew that Rowan fought at her side, Gavriel and Fenrys battling near her left flank.

But she was keenly aware of the mortal men who leaped into the fray with cries of defiance.

They'd made it this far. They would survive today, too. And the khaganate royals would know it.

Galloping hooves drowned out the battle, and then Chaol was there, sword flashing, driving into the unending tide that rushed from the tower's entrance.

"To Lord Chaol! To the queen!"

How far they both were from Rifthold.

From the assassin and the captain.

Arrows rose from the army beyond the wall, but a wave of icy wind snapped them into splinters before they could find any marks. A dark blur plunged past, and then Lorcan was at the siege tower's mouth, his sword swinging so fast Aelin could barely follow it. He battled his way across the metal bridge of the tower, into the stairwell beyond. Like he'd fight his way down the ramps and onto the battlefield itself. Below, a boom began. Morath had brought in their battering ram.

Aelin smiled grimly. She'd bring them all down. Then Erawan. And then she'd unleash herself upon Maeve.

At the opposite end of the field, the khagan's army pushed, gaining the field step by step.

Not helpless. Not contained. Never again.

Death became a melody in her blood, every movement a dance as the tide of soldiers pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan was indeed forcing his way down the interior.

Those who got past him met her blade, or Rowan's. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had slaughtered his way into the siege tower as well, twin blades a whirlwind.

What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon reaching the bottom, how they'd dislodge the tower, she didn't know. Didn't think about it.

Not from this place of killing and movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.

Death had been her curse and her gift and her friend for these long, long years. She was happy to greet it again under the golden morning sun.