#i have to figure out where to find someone who's willing/capable of diving into the horrible mental health bathypelagic zone with me

[astriiformes]

Sigh. I guess my dilemma about my current therapist being fine, but not a great fit has resolved itself -- she's moving to part-time and won't be able to see me anymore, which means it's time to find someone else regardless.

Mostly spinning this as a positive since she already has someone lined up for me to try out an intake with and I actually have the mental/emotional energy to do some therapist-hunting of my own during winter break. If I can find someone who actually is an ideal fit for me and my issues before or around the time the semester starts it would be a huge boon, but we'll see

[deesseshesca]

PAC : Why haven't you experience the big ''O'' yet ? (18+)

Don't worry, I dream about it too.

Good morning pretty souls, is time to jump the big gun otherwise we are going to be under satisfy for EVER !

!!DON’T FORGET TO CHECK THE FLASH SALE!!

KO-FI

STRAIGHT WOMEN 

Overall Energy: The Wheel of Fortune

The Wheel of Fortune represents the cycles of life, change, and destiny. In your situation, this card highlights that your challenges in intimacy are part of a larger cycle you’re navigating. Life’s ups and downs may be affecting your romantic and intimate life, making it feel uncertain. This card tells you that your love life can change for the better, but it depends on how you face your fears and embrace opportunities. The Wheel reminds you that nothing stays the same forever, and you have the ability to steer your romantic future.

Card 1: Page of Wands (Reversed)The Page of Wands reversed points to a lack of enthusiasm or fear of taking risks in relationships. You might feel hesitant to open up fully or to dive into deeper connections. This card suggests that you could be holding back due to self-doubt or fear of where the relationship might lead. You may long for excitement and passion but find it difficult to let yourself explore it fully, potentially due to past hurt or fear of losing control.

This reluctance may keep you in a pattern of shallow connections or casual encounters, where you never fully commit. The fear of commitment could be tied to your desire to maintain independence or protect yourself from emotional vulnerability. As a result, you might avoid opportunities for deeper intimacy, feeling stuck in your current state of uncertainty.

Conclusion: The combination of these cards suggests that your intimacy struggles are rooted in a fear of the unknown and the cyclical nature of your emotional experiences. With the Wheel of Fortune, change is possible, but you need to break free from old patterns and trust in the flow of life. Embracing vulnerability and allowing yourself to take risks in love will open the door to a more fulfilling intimate life.

Commitment doesn't have to mean a loss of freedom—it can be a new adventure, filled with growth, passion, and deeper connections. The key is to trust that you are capable of navigating these challenges and that positive change is on the horizon if you’re willing to step out of your comfort zone.

​How does it effect your sex life ? 

LESBIAN WOMEN

Overall Energy: The Wheel of Fortune

The Wheel of Fortune, as the overall energy, reminds you that life’s challenges are part of a natural ebb and flow. You may feel like your intimate relationships are out of your hands, caught in a repeating cycle of highs and lows. This could manifest as meeting potential partners, only to see things fizzle out without progressing to something deeper. You might feel like you’re constantly at the mercy of fate, unsure of how to break out of this loop and establish something more stable and lasting. The Wheel’s message is that change is always possible, but it’s up to you to recognize the opportunities and take action when the moment is right.

Card 1: Page of Wands (Reversed)In this reversed position, the Page of Wands represents several potential challenges in your intimate life.

Lack of Clarity: You might be struggling with knowing what you truly want in a relationship. Perhaps you find yourself caught up in the excitement of new connections but hesitate when it comes to figuring out where those relationships are headed. The reversed Page suggests that indecision or a lack of clear intention is preventing you from forming deeper bonds. There’s a sense of feeling lost or directionless when it comes to love, which could be stopping you from finding someone who truly resonates with you.

Restlessness and Impatience: You may find it hard to stay focused or committed to a relationship because of a restless desire for novelty or new experiences. This could cause you to lose interest quickly or jump from one connection to another, always chasing excitement but never allowing relationships to fully develop. The reversed Page suggests a scattered, noncommittal energy that keeps you from settling into something meaningful.

How is it effecting your sex life ? 

STRAIGHT MEN 

Overall Energy: Page of Swords The Page of Swords represents a sharp, intellectual energy. In your case, it suggests that you approach relationships and intimacy with a very direct, logical, and often detached manner. You likely prioritize communication and clarity but may come across as overly blunt or emotionally distant when dealing with intimacy. While you might believe being straightforward is beneficial, it can sometimes be perceived as cold or lacking emotional warmth, which can create barriers in forming deeper connections. The Page of Swords also hints at a tendency to overanalyze situations, turning intimacy into something more intellectual than emotional or passionate, potentially leading to misunderstandings with your partners.

Disconnected from Emotional Depth: The Magician reversed suggests that you may struggle to connect emotionally with your partners. You likely rely too heavily on logic and rational thinking, which can make it difficult for you to express or understand emotions in intimate situations. This can create a disconnect where your partner feels unheard or unappreciated on an emotional level.

Control Issues: This card can also signify a desire for control, which could manifest in trying to manage how intimacy unfolds. You may feel the need to "lead" the relationship or dictate how things progress, leaving little room for emotional spontaneity or vulnerability. This controlled approach can make your partner feel restricted or as if they are being managed rather than loved.

The combination of the Page of Swords and The Magician reversed highlights that your overly direct and cold approach to intimacy is creating significant blocks in your relationships. While your clarity and communication skills are strong, the lack of emotional warmth and connection is preventing intimacy from flourishing. The Page of Swords reminds you to be mindful of how your words and actions may be perceived as harsh or detached, while The Magician reversed suggests that you need to tap into your emotional power to better balance your logical approach.

How does it effect your sex life ? 

GAY MEN 

Inability to Manifest Connection: The reversed Magician can indicate that you’re not using your emotional and communication tools effectively. While you have the intelligence and clarity that can be attractive, your inability to balance that with empathy and emotional warmth may be blocking true connection. You may feel that intimacy is something to be handled logically rather than explored emotionally, which leads to shallow or unfulfilling experiences.

Lack of Confidence in Emotional Expression: The Magician reversed might also point to hidden insecurities. You could be using a cold, direct approach as a way to mask discomfort or lack of confidence when it comes to deeper emotional expression. This approach might be your way of avoiding vulnerability, but it’s likely causing friction in your relationships, where your partner may feel neglected or unappreciated.

The key message here is to soften your approach—allow vulnerability and emotional expression to flow alongside your intellectual clarity. Intimacy is not just about being direct or in control; it’s about building emotional bonds and making space for empathy, trust, and warmth. By addressing these challenges, you can create a more fulfilling and connected intimate life.

How does it effect your sex life ? 

COUPLE 

HIS POV : Page of Swords (Reversed)

From your point of view, the Page of Swords reversed represents frustration and miscommunication. You deeply desire her, to the point that it’s affecting your well-being, both emotionally and physically. It’s like a constant ache—wanting her, craving that intimacy, but feeling blocked from expressing it fully. You may feel confused, unsure of how to bridge the emotional gap between you two. There’s a sense of yearning that goes unspoken or gets lost in awkward conversations. Even though you have strong feelings for her, something holds you back from truly opening up or finding the right moment to show her just how much she means to you.

Your hesitation may come from overthinking things, being unsure of how to approach her without making things worse. You want to be close to her so badly, but it’s as if every time you try, something goes wrong. This constant battle between wanting intimacy and being unable to express it is taking a toll on your mental and even physical health. The distance is hurting you, but you don’t want to come across as too pushy or desperate, so you pull back, leaving the situation unresolved.

HER POV: Five of Swords

From her point of view, the Five of Swords shows that she recognizes she’s messed up, and the guilt weighs heavily on her. She feels like she’s caused the conflict or distance between you two, and it’s eating away at her. She might have said or done things that hurt you, even unintentionally, and now she feels like she’s in a losing battle. The tension from her mistakes makes her feel trapped, unsure if she can fix things or if you’ll even want to give her another chance.

Despite the guilt, she truly wants to repair the relationship. The Five of Swords shows she’s regretful, and all she really wants is to make things right. She’s desperate for a second chance, but there’s fear—fear that you’ll hold her past actions against her or that things might never go back to the way they were. She might be too scared to approach you directly, feeling like she’s already lost and doesn’t know how to undo the damage she’s caused. Yet, deep down, she longs for forgiveness and to reconnect with you on an intimate level, to heal the pain and move forward together.

How is that effecting your sex life ? 

[heart-stomper]

Unspoken Trust, Unspoken Fears

Gathering my thoughts on Sasha and Marcy’s dynamic before S3 proves me wrong shows us what’s going on with these two.

It’s time to look at The Dinner and Battle of the Bands, and then use it as a guide to read the room in True Colors.

No worries! You just gotta speak their language. - Sasha, Reunion

Or in this case, know when to stay quiet. 

Sasha gets really really frustrated this episode. Like, so bad, that if that Volcakeno didn’t erupt, she might have been the one to end the friendship. Even Marcy and Grime couldn’t calm her down. But that’s the thing, before this point, they were the only ones to get through to Sasha without provoking her.

Grime keeps Sasha in line; she rolls her eyes and is clearly annoyed every time she has to hold herself back, but her willingness to keep it cool shows she ultimately agrees with Grime’s plan and sees it as the best path to success.  When Marcy chimes in, it’s with a helpful answer to Sasha’s question. She reminds Sasha of why they stopped Doing Thing by explaining how their plan failed. She avoids judging Sasha for it, and frames it as the repercussions of their actions, as a group. Marcy is on Sasha’s side, so Sasha doesn’t put up any defenses. When Sasha decides to avoid arguing with Anne however, it isn’t for Anne. It’s for the plan, for her and Grime.

Marcy has enough faith in Sasha to believe she’d never want to purposefully hurt Anne, but is careful about broaching the subject. Sasha feels attacked very easily, and will quickly trivialize or downplay things if she feels the other person is being unreasonable or doesn’t ‘get’ her.

And that is the only time Marcy speaks up besides The Big Argument. She only jumps into actual conflicts if things get too heated. Otherwise, she just lets Sasha do her thing, and lets Anne argue with Sasha... sort of.

This isn’t collaboration. It’s a hostile takeover. Why do things always have to be your way?

Now, for the bait and switch. Let’s talk about Marcy’s behavior in Day at the Aquarium and New Wartwood, and Sasha’s in Toadcatcher and Barrel’s Warhammer… while tying it all back to Battle of Bands!

You didn’t tell me you were writing a song! Let’s do it! I mean, if that’s okay with you, Sasha.

In A Day at the Aquarium, Marcy’s first instinct to Anne saying she’s going back with the Plantars is to make a plan. To show that it isn’t actually what will benefit Anne’s Goals. She doesn’t even consider opening up as an option, and avoids saying anything that could cause conflict. New Wartwood, Marcy tries to chat with the citizens of Wartwood and get to know them. But when that doesn’t work, she decides that impressing them with her knowledge and usefulness is bound to make them like her. It has to.

It does seem simpler.

Trying to win people over by claiming a plan is of mutual interest and necessary, carefully choosing which words to use, viewing relationships as a puzzle to be solved… this isn’t the sort of thing Marcy needs to do to get along with someone like Anne. It’s how Marcy copes with Sasha. Sasha lashes out and belittles bad ideas. Sasha has to be convinced the plan benefits her, suits her. Vulnerability and love aren’t enough to make her care, so Marcy does what she can to prove she’s worth being around. She might even sometimes wonder if Sasha actually likes her, or just likes what she can do for her. She rather not find out.

Whenever she’s afraid of people not liking her, or is worried that she’ll lose them, she dives right into those bad habits. She can give her opinions, but they aren’t supposed to get in the way of what Sasha wants. She’s supposed to say “That’s amazing! What do you think Sash’?” not “Let’s do it!”

Listen. There’s another reason why I’ve been training so hard. To protect the one person I know I can count on right now. You. You’re right, I already lost one friend. I’m not about to lose another. - Sasha, Toadcatcher

In Toadcatcher, there’s that scene, where Sasha looks at the BFF picture and the wind cuts off Anne for a second so it’s just her and Marcy. This is where Sasha is at. Anne might have rebelled, but when Sasha reunites with Marcy? Oh, she’ll show Anne, one way or another. They’ll get her back (like, joining the team or revenge wise, depending on Sasha’s mood.)

Listen here you buffoon! What’s it gonna take to prove that you should follow us? - Barrel’s Warhammer

Aaaand Sasha freaks out royally when she learns the two are alone together and doing just fine. On some level, she fears Anne and Marcy “getting along without her” because it means they might decide they don’t actually need her to make plans; that she isn’t necessary to have fun. In the The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers, we see that isn’t as big a catastrophe as Sasha seems to think it’d be. As time goes on, the girls do gain a healthier relationship to their feelings about Sasha, but that doesn’t mean they’d want her gone even if they don’t need her there. But Sasha doesn’t know that, she doesn’t even consider it till reuniting in The Third Temple. All she knows for now, is that she can be a bit... much... so if she isn’t in control, if her way isn’t “the best”, why would Marcy put up with her either? 

Listen. If things get too wild out here, just give me a signal and I’ll call the whole thing off. 

 For sure, teach it to us Anne. 

Every Sasha plan starts with an empty reassurance. So much of Sasha’s dialogue follows a pattern where she says stuff like “we’ll call it off” (she did not call it off) and “for sure, I don’t mind” (she did mind) that it could be it’s own game. Sasha talks the talk, until it gets in the way of what she wants.

Sorry guys, but we’re way to close to bail. I am not going back empty-handed.

It’s good. I just have a few tiny notes that I think could make it even better. ... Boom! Fiixed it! 

If they just follow her lead and let her fix it, everything will work out. They should believe in her and trust her. After all...

That’s not true! Besides, we did it. ... You’re not actually gonna throw this all away are you?

I just wanted all of us to succeed. I was just being a good friend. Why couldn’t they see that?

It all worked out, right? Percy and Braddock made it out okay even if she didn’t follow through on her promise. They won, she’s reliable. But of course, Sasha lost something more important than their belief in her abilities, she lost their trust. In Battle of the Bands however, Sasha recognizes that Anne and Marcy don’t want to follow her ambitions and will be pushed away by them just like Percy and Braddock were. So she takes it upon herself to end things, accepting that she’s lost.

Sorry it took so long.

Except this time, she manages to realize that maybe “what she wants” is to be there for her friends. Sasha’s finally had the space to relax and really think about what she wants, at least a little. This isn’t a real battle after all. Doing things her way all the time isn’t as important as she thought. Maybe she should trust in her friends more. A change of pace isn’t “wrong”, just different. It’s fun.

Sorry we lost, Sash’.

Just like Percy and Braddock, Marcy knows Sasha is capable. She understands that Sasha just wants the team to succeed. That’s why she apologizes when Grime beats them in the competition. She wants Sasha to know she appreciates what she did, but keeps it a bit indirect. She gets Sasha probably didn’t want to push them away. Marcy tried to catch herself and back Sasha up, but when Sasha had her argument with Anne, she stayed quiet. She couldn’t bring herself to go against Anne. 

That was ultimately for the best, as Sasha learned a valuable lesson. Except... She’s in too deep with the rebellion to back out now. This is the episode she’d spill the truth and give up on the whole thing, except... Grime. A part of her knows leaving would make Grime her enemy. She can’t risk that. So, she keeps going with the plan. She decides she’ll somehow win it all back. Because the thing she’s actually most afraid of, is losing another friend. 

Sorry things got a little crazy back there. You guys good? ... Sheesh, don’t be a sore loser. Look, I’m gonna stay here and get this toad regime off the ground, but I can totally send you two home if you want. Or, you can stick around and give me a hand! So what’d’ya say?

Sasha’s final offer; the last chance she’s giving the girls to stop acting weird and go back to being her obedient friends who do what she wants. Sasha lost at Toad Tower, but now she’s won. So Anne should go back to normal, she’s supposed to, like some unspoken “rule”.

And Marcy is supposed fall back in line too. The offer and apology are just as much a plea directed at her. Sasha’s trying to be generous, in her own awkward way. She has bit her tongue so far. She’s thrown a temper tantrum or two, but she hasn’t been this forward in asking Marcy for help till now. She wants Marcy to say that everything’s okay. Make it clear she doesn’t think she’s the bad guy, and that she forgives her and wants to be there for her. That they’re on the same page again. She wants Marcy to help make Anne look overly dramatic and silly for making such a big deal of all this. Sure, if Anne figures that out by herself, that’d be great, but if Marcy could just speak up.

But she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.

Marcy’s too busy worrying about Anne’s reaction. Knowing that she’ll be upset about this. She doesn’t dare side with Sasha, and is disappointed and betrayed that she actually did something like this. Marcy already has her own secret plans, so when she finally tries to calm things down, all she can give is a non-descript “we can still fix this”. And then, she’s once again shocked when she sees Sasha threaten Anne and the Plantars. Seeing Sasha act so willing to actually hurt people rather than just push them around... it finally hits her just how serious “tried to kill them” was. And of course, losing Anne or being sent home with her would completely mess up her own plans.

Sasha’s isn’t a vulnerable person. She’ll go on about loving her friends if it makes her look good, but she actively avoids doing anything that could be seen as “weak”. She wouldn’t dare ask Marcy to drop Anne and choose her. If Marcy isn’t speaking up, she can take the hint. She still isn’t on her side, and so she gets sent to the dungeon along with the rest of them.

Marcy accepts that Sasha has become an obstacle, but a part of her still hopes the three of them can work through all this. If they do things her way, nobody has to get hurt. She'll figure out a way hold everything together, fix everything, like always.

And then Andrias betrays her.

Yeah, what plan?

Sasha stops talking once she realizes what’s going on. Quietly fuming as Marcy explains herself. The music box, the suggestion to take it back to Andrias... that wasn’t Marcy being the sweet, supportive friend who Sasha thought she could always rely on, who believed in her... that was Marcy using her. It was never going to become their plan; Marcy never trusted her and was actively working against her. Sasha lost Anne, and she never had a chance at getting Marcy back, either. 

Sasha smacks Marcy away when she desperately tries to justify herself. She doesn’t want to hear it anymore. She’s furious that Marcy thinks they could be friends after something like this, after she’s manipulated them and claimed it was for their sakes. This whole time, her goal had been avoiding the move with her parents. And coming here has only torn them apart even worse.

Marcy reaches out to both girls. And when Sasha rejects her, she clings to Anne, hoping at least she’ll find it in her to forgive her. That she’ll understand she cares about them even if she messed up. Marcy knows they’d probably never pick her over their families or ambitions, so she told herself this place offered those things too. Made them all better people. But as she says her excuses out loud, she can’t find a single one that feels right. She was just afraid of losing them, and now, she’s managed to hurt them on top of that. 

But the thing is. After all that. Despite how betrayed and hurt and angry Sasha was, she looks like this:

Sasha realizes this must be exactly how Anne felt about her betrayal. It isn’t just an abstract “hurt” or “bad thing” anymore. She can also sympathize with how Marcy feels and why she did it, at least a little. She can’t imagine being able to forgive this, and yet... when she looks to Anne with that apologetic look, she isn’t just hoping Anne will forgive her. She’s also asking for permission to forgive Marcy. Pleading that they all still have a chance to move past this together.

[prouvaireafterdark]

We’ll Let the Flame Burn Once Again - a 3x07 Coda

My take on 3x08, with 100% more bed sharing, love confessions, and blow jobs than I’m sure canon will give us tomorrow.

Also on AO3!

***

Alex is halfway through the file on the Lockhart Machine when his phone buzzes in his pocket. Michael’s name flashes across the screen like an accusation when he digs it out of his coat.

“Fuck,” Alex sighs. He’d been so preoccupied with being kidnapped and faced with a life-changing career dilemma he’d completely forgotten that he’d never returned Michael’s voicemail or given anyone an update on the Kyle situation.

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t call you back, I—” Alex starts when he answers the phone, but Michael cuts him off. 

“Are you home?” Michael asks sharply. He sounds panicked and out of breath, like he’s just been running for his life.

“Uh, no,” Alex answers. “Why, what’s wrong?”

The laugh Michael lets out is strangled and more than a little hysterical. “Better question would be what isn’t, but I’ll give you the cliff notes: Jones took over Max’s body and now he’s trying to kill us.”

“What?” Alex asks, sitting up straighter in his seat.

“Oh, and he’s also my fucking dad apparently,” Michael continues.

“What?” Alex says again. If that’s true, Alex has a few questions about where the hell those curls came from. “Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Michael says bitterly before he adds, all in a rush, “Look, I don’t know what he’s planning, but if he’s trying to get to me it’s only a matter of time before he goes after you and something tells me I won’t be able to build a bomb to get you back this time. You need to get somewhere safe, somewhere he won’t be able to find you.”

Is there anyone in this town who doesn’t know about our history? Alex wonders. 

He looks around at the wooden beams of the abandoned barn-turned hospital room he’s currently stuck in as he replies, “Don’t worry about me. I don’t think he’ll be able to find my location.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Alex assures him. If he knows Ramos half as well as he thinks he does, he’s pretty sure this building wouldn’t even show up on a map. “Where are you going to go?” 

“No fucking idea,” Michael says. “My place isn’t safe and neither is Isobel’s so maybe we’ll just find a motel for the night or something until—“

“No, don’t do that,” Alex interrupts. “He’ll probably be expecting that and with Max’s face he’ll have access to police resources. If he’s motivated enough, he’ll track you down by the end of the night.”

Michael lets out a loud sigh before he says, mostly to himself, “Fuck Max for being a fucking cop,” frustration heavy in his tone. “You got any other ideas then?”

Alex considers that for a moment before he remembers the cabin Jim left him. It’s not a top secret military bunker, but it’s remote and about as secure as they can hope for right now.

“I do, actually,” Alex says at last. “Where are you right now?”

“The hospital,” Michael answers. “Maria’s fine, Liz and I just checked on her.”

“Okay good,” he says. “He probably won’t attack you if you’re in a public place so just stay there and wait for my call, okay? There’s something I need to take care of and then I’m all yours.”

Alex cringes at his own wording, but Michael doesn’t seem to notice.

“Okay,” he says. “Just—hurry?” 

“I will,” Alex promises. “Stay safe.”

“You too,” Michael replies, and then the line goes dead.

Alex turns back to his phone screen and pulls up his contacts. He hesitates for a minute, asking himself if what he’s about to do is really the right choice.

But then he thinks of Michael and how much easier it would be to protect him with access to all of the resources and intel Deep Sky has to offer. If Jones is even half the threat he seems, Alex has a feeling he’s going to need all the help he can get.

Alex makes the call. It rings twice before he gets an answer.

“Have you made up your mind then?” Ramos asks, foregoing a greeting entirely.

“I’m in,” Alex says, projecting confidence he doesn’t quite feel. “Now do you think I can get a ride back to my car? I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Thirty minutes later, Alex leaves Kyle in Ramos’ care and hits the road. He’s careful not to speed too much—the last thing he needs is to get pulled over right now—but he’s definitely pushing it.

Alex had called Michael back while he waited impatiently for Ramos and gave him instructions on how to get to the cabin—an indirect route with minimal traffic cameras along the way. Looking at the clock on his dashboard, Alex guesses Michael will probably have already let himself in by now.

Sure enough, Michael’s pick-up truck and Isobel’s SUV are already parked outside by the time Alex pulls into the dirt path he calls a driveway. When he opens the front door, he sees a small crowd of people in his living room, all wearing various expressions of exhaustion and defeat.

Rosa has her boots propped up on the coffee table next to Michael’s hat where she sits in the armchair in the corner, her eyes trained on Liz who looks to be wearing a hole in the carpet with all of the pacing she’s doing. Michael is sitting with Isobel on the couch, her head resting heavily on his shoulder and her arms drawn tight across her chest. 

They all look up at him as he steps over the threshold, but Michael’s the first to react, his back straightening against the couch the moment he lays eyes on him.

“Alex,” he says, little louder than a whisper. Alex feels the sudden desire to pull him into his arms. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Alex says, closing the door behind him. “It’s a long story, but I found Kyle.”

“You found Kyle?” Liz asks, her eyes wide as she takes a step closer to him. “Where is he?”

“With his uncle,” he answers.

“His what?” Rosa asks at the same time Liz says, “Kyle doesn’t have an uncle.”

“Yeah, we’ve got a lot to talk about,” Alex says. 

This time of night, Alex figures they could all use a pick-me-up, so he heads to the kitchen and gestures for them to follow. 

While he gets the ancient coffee pot going, he can hear the sound of chairs scraping against the floor behind him as they all find a seat at the table in the middle of the room. There’s an empty seat next to Michael when he goes to sit, so he takes it, figuring it’ll be easier to stay focused on the task at hand if he doesn’t have to look directly at him.

As he sits down, he catches Michael’s eyes shifting toward the dusty bottle of whiskey on top of the fridge, but he surprises him when he doesn’t ask for it. Alex isn’t sure if that’s for Rosa’s benefit or his own, but either way he can’t help but feel a little proud of him.

They talk for what must be hours, starting with Kyle and Alex’s involvement with Deep Sky and ending with the shit show that went down with Jones tonight. It’s a lot to process, for all of them, but they do manage to come up with a plan for tomorrow. 

Michael is understandably suspicious of Deep Sky, but after Alex relays what he learned about the Lockhart Machine’s origins in Caulfield, he wants to get his hands on it. The idea of working so close to him makes Alex nervous for more reasons than one, but Michael’s right—he needs his help if he’s going to make any meaningful progress before the other shoe drops with Jones and pretending otherwise is going to get someone killed.

Liz, for her part, is eager to dive into the science to see if there’s anything she can do to help Kyle, so Alex will take her to the barn in the morning before he and Michael tackle the Lockhart Machine. 

With no leads on where Jones took Max’s body, Isobel and Rosa decide to check on Maria and see if there’s any progress they can make on freeing her from the hold Jones has on her mind. 

It’s as solid a plan as they’re capable of making with what they’ve got, so the moment Michael yawns behind the grimy bandana on his hand Alex is ready to call it a night.

“Alright, I think that’s enough for tonight,” Alex says. He pushes back from the table and starts collecting coffee mugs to put in the sink as he continues, “There’s a guest bedroom down the hall and an extra bed in the secret bunker under the coffee table in the living room for people to crash in.”

“The what under the what?” Liz asks, bewildered.

“Alex Manes, do you have a sex dungeon in your basement?” Isobel asks, sounding intrigued and a little impressed before she grimaces suddenly and turns to Michael. “Ew, wait, did you know about this?”

Alex resolutely does not look at Michael as he sighs, “It’s not a sex dungeon.” 

He considers telling them about the room’s true intended purpose, but decides against it—there’s been enough revelations about distant fathers for one evening. 

“It’s just an extra bedroom,” he continues, before turning to Liz and Rosa. “The bed down there is big enough for two people to fit in if you guys don’t mind sharing. The bed in the guest room’s just a twin, so it’d be a tighter squeeze.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Rosa shrugs, eyes on Liz as she continues, “As long as you don’t steal the covers.”

“Oh come on, that was one time when I was seven,” Liz protests, crossing her arms over her chest.

Isobel interrupts their sibling banter to say, “Dibs on the guest room then. Sorry, Michael, you’re on the couch tonight.”

Michael shrugs like he expected that, but Alex stops him with a hand on his arm as he goes to walk toward the living room.

“No, take my bed,” he says. Michael’s eyes drop down to where Alex’s hand has caught his forearm and Alex lets him go. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“What?” Michael asks, cocking his head so his curls fall into his eyes. “No, I’ll take the couch. Sleep in your own bed.”

“Michael, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch after the day you’ve had,” Alex argues. “You need a good night’s sleep in an actual bed.”

“And you don’t?” Michael counters. “Besides, if you sleep on that lumpy-ass couch you’re definitely going to fuck up your leg and I think we can both agree that that would be kind of a problem if Jones catches up to us.”

Alex sighs and tries to stare him down, willing him to let him do this for him, but Michael just keeps defiantly meeting his gaze.

“Oh my god, would you two shut up and just share the bed if the couch sucks that much?” Isobel asks and they both turn to look at her in shock. “It’s not like it would be the first time,” she adds under her breath.

Alex shares another look with Michael and waits a moment for him to react, to give any sign he wouldn’t be okay with that. 

All he does is shrug and say, “I’m game if you are.”

If he’s honest, Alex has no fucking idea how he’s supposed to get any sleep lying next to Michael all night—his stomach is already in knots just thinking about it—but he nods his head anyway.

“Alright,” Alex agrees. “It’s just down the hall that way, I’ll show you. Does anyone need anything to sleep in? I’ve got some spare pajamas.”

There’s a chorus of yes’s all around, so Alex heads down the hall toward his bedroom to grab some clothes with Michael not far behind him. 

“Looks, uh—nice in here,” Michael comments awkwardly as they step inside the bedroom, and Alex can’t help but laugh.

“You don’t have to lie,” he says as he starts digging through the dresser for some old t-shirts and sweatpants, glad for once that he never got around to cutting down the right pant leg on them. “Besides the new sheets, this is all Jim Valenti’s old stuff.” 

“The clothes too?” Michael grimaces.

“Oh, no, these are mine,” he says as he hands Michael a bundle of clothes. “Bathroom’s through that door there if you want to shower. There should be an extra toothbrush and towels under the sink.”

Michael nods, and then scoffs when he sees the Air Force logo on the t-shirt Alex hands him. Alex rolls his eyes at him as he heads back out into the living room to distribute clothes to the rest of his guests. 

It takes some time getting everyone settled—the sheets on the other beds need to be changed and Liz and Rosa have some questions about the giant hole in the wall in the basement—but soon enough, Alex heads back to the master bedroom. When he gets there, he sees Michael standing by the far side of the bed, water weighing down his curls and a pair of Alex’s sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He isn’t wearing a shirt either, the Air Force tee Alex gave him sitting on the comforter on Alex’s side of the bed.

Alex isn’t sure if this is an act of protest against the United States Armed Forces or if Michael is simply trying to drive him insane, but either way, Alex scoops up the t-shirt on his way to the ensuite bathroom along with the emergency crutches he keeps here and another pair of sweats for himself. 

He goes through his nightly routine without issue, grateful that he’d gotten around to buying a shower chair for the cabin so he can actually wash the last few days off his skin. 

He’s expecting Michael to be asleep when he gets back, but instead he finds him sitting crosslegged in bed with the lights still on, his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands. Alex’s heart aches at the sight.

“Hey,” he says softly as he makes his way over to the bed. 

Michael looks up at him, an inscrutable look on his face, and waits for him to speak. 

“I’m not going to ask you if you’re okay because there’s nothing about today that has been okay,” Alex tells him, “but I’m here if you want to talk.”

A small smile tugs at Michael’s lips. “Thanks,” he says.  

When he doesn’t say anything else, Alex gets into bed with him, resting his crutches in the narrow space between the bed and the nightstand. Michael gets the lights with his powers, plunging the room into darkness, and Alex lies down on his back while his eyes adjust, too aware of Michael shifting in bed beside him to really let himself relax enough to sleep. 

It’s a few moments later when Michael lets out a huff that sounds a little like a laugh.

“What?” Alex asks, turning to look at him. He can just see the curve of Michael’s nose in the moonlight bleeding through the curtains.

“Nothing, I just—“ Michael starts before he sighs again, eyes fixed on the ceiling. “It’s a little ridiculous that this time last year we were dealing with your homicidal father and now we’re dealing with mine. The more things change the more they stay the same, I guess.”

Michael says it like it’s funny, but Alex feels a twinge in his chest at the thought of Michael going through what he went through last year. Feeling unsafe around your parent is a special kind of pain, one Alex knows intimately, and it’s the last thing he would have ever wanted for Michael. He’s been through enough.

 On impulse, Alex reaches across the bed for Michael’s hand. It takes some searching, but eventually he finds it resting on top of the comforter between them. He half expects Michael to pull away from him, but he threads their fingers together instead. Michael’s palm is warm against his own, his grip secure, and Alex feels his eyes begin to burn as something inside his chest settles at the touch. 

He swallows down the emotion in his throat as he tells him, “We’re gonna figure this out.” 

“You don’t know that,” Michael says, scarcely louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, I do,” Alex insists. “Jones may have crazy alien powers we can’t comprehend, but we have the Lockhart Machine. If it was your mother who built it, it could hold the key to taking him down.”

At the mention of his mother, Michael goes quiet again, and Alex watches his chest rise and fall with the deep breath he takes. 

“You really think she built it?” Michael asks at last, hesitation in his tone. 

Alex gets it—this machine, if it works like the radios the Valentis had, could have alien glass with his mother’s voice inside. It makes sense that Michael doesn’t want to get his hopes up and invite the crushing disappointment he’ll feel if it doesn’t.

Alex squeezes his hand reassuringly as he answers, “I think if there’s anyone who can find out for sure, it’s you.”

Michael is silent for another long moment, so long that Alex thinks he’s done with the conversation, before he finally asks, “Why are you being so nice to me?” 

“What do you mean?” Alex asks, taken aback by the question.

Michael shifts onto his side to look at him directly. “Yesterday you didn’t want me anywhere near what you were doing and now you’re holding my hand and telling me it’s all gonna be okay if we work together,” Michael says, lifting their joined hands off the bed for emphasis. “What’s changed?”

Alex’s throat clicks as he swallows, something like shame weighing down the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t meant to make Michael feel like he didn’t want him around or that he wasn’t useful.

“I’m sorry,” Alex apologizes. “I was just scared.”

“Of what?” Michael presses.

“Of what Deep Sky would do if they found out about you,” he answers. “I knew if you kept investigating the bats, you would find Deep Sky sooner or later and I was terrified that for all their talk about changing narratives and building bridges between humans and aliens that they wouldn’t be any different than my father if they actually met one.” 

“Well, you could have told me that,” Michael says after a moment, his voice softer than the accusatory tone Alex is anticipating. “I would have understood.”

“But would you have let it go if you knew you were onto something?” Alex asks. 

“Not a chance in hell,” Michael admits, something like a smile playing at his lips. 

Alex sighs heavily, expecting the answer but no less happy at being proven right. 

“But being cagey and lying to me about what you knew didn’t make me want to let it go either,” Michael continues. 

“I know,” Alex says. “I just thought—If I didn’t try to protect you and just let you walk into something like that and you got hurt, I… I would never forgive myself.” 

Alex feels Michael’s thumb caress the back of his hand and closes his eyes at the sensation, letting it wash over him and remind him that Michael is here, that he’s safe—that he hasn’t failed him yet.

“Well, it was for nothing anyway,” Alex sighs as his eyes drift open once more. “Turns out you’re the whole reason they wanted to hire me in the first place, so—“

“Wait, what?” Michael asks, raising his head off his pillow to look at him better, and Alex curses his own sleep deprivation for letting him admit that so easily. “I thought they scouted you because of your dad.”

He swallows audibly before he answers, “That’s part of it too.” 

“But not all of it,” Michael says, not a question but a confirmation. “What, did they think they could get an alien on their side if they played the long game with you?” 

“Probably, yeah,” Alex says, hoping that’ll satisfy him.

Michael must sense that Alex is holding something back, though, because he releases his hand and sits up on the bed next to him. “Alex, what aren’t you saying?” 

Alex sighs and pushes himself up against the headboard so he and Michael are on the same level. He pulls his left leg in toward his chest protectively while Michael looks at him, his eyes intense and expectant.

Alex finds the words eventually. “Ramos wanted me to join Deep Sky because he thinks I view life differently than other people.”

“Because you already know aliens exist?” Michael guesses, his head quirked to the side.

God, is he really gonna make me say it? Alex thinks, his stomach dropping at the thought.

But then he takes in Michael’s earnest confusion, how far away the fact that Alex still loves him must be from his mind that he still doesn’t get it, and realizes they can’t keep doing this to each other—talking in riddles and euphemisms because it’s easier than being honest. That’s not who Alex wants to be anymore, and it’s certainly not what Michael deserves.

“Alex?” Michael prompts him, his voice dipping with concern, and Alex thinks, Fuck it. 

He’s already made a few major confessions tonight—what’s one more?

“Because I’m in love with one,” Alex admits at last, his heart thundering behind his ribs as he braces for Michael’s reply.

There’s a beat where Michael does nothing but stare at him blankly, the words taking a moment to register in his ears, before he asks, eyes almost comically wide, “You’re in love with me?” 

Alex laughs humorlessly, his eyes beginning to burn again as he answers, “Of course I am.”

“But I thought—you and Nazi guy—?“ Michael starts.

“Are over,” Alex finishes for him. “Forrest was nice and fun to hang out with, but he’s not you. He’ll never be you.”

A second and a year pass in the excruciating moment Michael takes to process that statement. It makes him feel raw and impossibly exposed, like Michael is holding his beating heart in his hands and Alex is begging him not to break it, but the next thing Alex knows Michael is pushing into his space and capturing his lips in a harsh and desperate kiss. 

Alex’s heart nearly bursts with relief, his leg dropping back down to the mattress. He reaches up to cup both of Michael’s cheeks to keep him close, his days-old stubble a pleasant scratch against his palms. 

Michael breathes a contented sigh against his mouth as he tilts his head for a better angle and tries to deepen the kiss, his tongue flicking out against Alex’s bottom lip. Alex opens for him without a moment’s hesitation and as soon as Michael licks into his mouth, Michael’s tongue sliding across his own, Alex feels like he’s been set on fire, the desire he’s been suppressing for over a year now flaring hot and inexorable inside of him. 

Alex wants with an intensity that almost scares him, his cock stirring against his thigh already and Michael’s barely even touched him. The feeling amplifies when Michael throws his leg over Alex’s hips and settles heavily over his lap, the solid weight and warmth of him pulling a moan from Alex’s throat.

Michael swallows the sound eagerly as he snakes his arms behind his neck, his hips shifting restlessly over Alex’s lap as he kisses him. Alex drops his hands from Michael’s face to wrap around his waist instead, pulling him closer until they’re nearly chest to chest. 

One of them has to break the kiss eventually, and as Alex gasps for air with his head tipped back against the headboard, he can see Michael looking down at him with adoration in his eyes. He takes Alex’s face in his hands and laughs, a soft, wet sound, before he kisses him soundly once more. 

“I love you so much,” he murmurs against his lips, and Alex’s grip tightens as he feels those words brush against his skin and settle in his heart.

Alex leans that little bit forward to kiss him again, slow and languid this time as the heat continues to simmer between them. Michael peels Alex’s shirt over his head and begins to rock gently against him, his ass rubbing back and forth over Alex’s growing erection with every movement of his hips. 

He can tell that Michael’s getting hard too, can feel the heat of his cock through his borrowed sweatpants. Alex removes his hand from Michael’s waist and slides it lower until he feels Michael’s happy trail peeking out above his waistband. 

He strokes his thumb over the hair there, teasing the skin at the edge of the fabric without ever dipping beneath it. Michael squirms against him with a soft, plaintive whimper when he does that, so Alex gives him what he wants, lets his hand slip lower so he can rub his palm over the hard line of Michael’s cock, relishing the way Michael moans softly into his mouth as his hips twitching closer on instinct. 

“Are we really doing this right now?” Alex pulls away to ask, his thumb rubbing a slow circle around the head of Michael’s dick through the soft fabric. 

“Are you saying you want to stop?” Michael asks him, tipping forward until their foreheads meet.

“No,” he answers.

“Then yeah,” Michael breathes, reaching down between them to cover Alex’s hand with his own. “I think we’re doing this.”

“In that case,” Alex says, “I want you in my mouth.”

“God, yeah,” Michael whispers, his cock jumping beneath Alex’s hand at the thought.

Alex gives him a hard kiss before he pulls back to say, “On your back.”

Michael climbs off of Alex’s lap without another word. He rolls over onto his back next to him, his thighs falling open to give Alex room to work with. 

Alex slips between them easily and moves in to kiss him again, once on the lips before he begins pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down his chin. He lingers at his neck, sucking a bruise into the spot underneath his jaw that he knows drives Michael fucking crazy. 

Michael rewards him with a choked-off moan, his legs spreading wider around his hips. Alex wishes he had the time—and supplies—to ruin him properly, work him open with his tongue and fingers until he’s a keening, whimpering mess before he fucks him like he deserves. For now, though, his mouth will have to do.

Alex can feel Michael’s pulse jackrabbit against his lips as he continues down the column of his throat, Michael’s hands burying themselves in his hair. He dips his tongue into the hollow of his collarbone before he slips further down his chest, cupping Michael’s pecs in his hands and squeezing just enough to get a reaction from him before his mouth latches on to one of his nipples.

He scrapes his teeth against the bud before soothing the hurt with his tongue and Michael’s breath catches in his throat again. He’s always been so sensitive, so responsive to Alex’s touch, and Alex can’t get enough of it.

When he’s teased both of his nipples to hard buds, Alex starts to move lower still, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses down the length of his belly until he stops right above the waistband of his pajamas.

“Alex,” Michael moans as Alex sucks another bruise into his skin, his fingers tightening their grip on his hair. “Please.”

Alex gives one final kiss to the sharp angle of Michael’s hip bone before he sits up to pull his pants off. He drops them off the side of the bed carelessly before he settles between Michael’s legs once more, running his palms along the soft skin of his inner thighs and enjoying the way the muscle jumps beneath his fingertips.

Michael’s cock leaks against his belly, flushed and wet at the tip. Alex wastes no more time getting his mouth on him, lapping at the pool of precome shining against his skin before he takes the slick, swollen head into his mouth. He revels in the feel of it forcing his mouth wide open and moans softly at the bitter taste he catches on his tongue. 

Alex looks up at Michael through his lashes as he starts to suck him, sinking down onto his cock a little lower with every pass of his lips. Michael’s got his bottom lip caught painfully between his teeth, his eyes trained hungrily on the way his cock is slipping in and out of Alex’s mouth. 

The soft, needy whimpers Michael makes as Alex swallows around him are music to his ears, stoking the fire inside of him until the pressure in his own cock becomes unbearable. Alex grinds his hips down against the mattress for relief, but it only makes him more desperate to come. He slides one of his hands straight into his own pants and groans around Michael’s cock as he starts to fuck his fist.

It’s not much longer that Michael’s hips start to twitch against the mattress and his fingers tighten their grip on Alex’s hair. He barely gets out a warning, “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” before he’s pulsing hot and wet across Alex’s tongue. Alex swallows it greedily, moaning softly as he works Michael through the rest of his orgasm and keeps chasing his own with eager, shallow thrusts. 

When Michael’s had enough, Alex pulls off of his cock and buries his face against his hip as he comes quietly over his own fist, making a mess of the inside of his underwear. He’ll probably be embarrassed about that later, but for now he’s content to come down to the feeling of Michael gently petting his hair.

“Get up here,” Michael says when he’s recovered the ability to speak, tugging lightly on the ends of Alex’s hair to get his attention. 

Alex groans as he lifts his head off Michael’s hip and maneuvers himself until he’s lying next to him again, his stump crossed over Michael’s thigh. 

“Did you—?” Michael cuts off, eyes caught on the sticky mess on Alex’s hand now that he’s pulled it free from his pants.

“Yeah,” Alex admits, a little sheepishly. 

Michael stares at his hand for a long second before he grabs his wrist and pulls his hand closer to his face. He looks Alex in the eye as he sucks two of his fingers into his mouth, grunting softly as he licks them clean.

“Fuck,” Alex whispers, his cock twitching in vain against his thigh at the sight and feel of Michael’s tongue sliding between his fingers.

“You missed sucking my cock that bad, huh?” Michael asks when he lets them fall from his mouth, voice low and rough as gravel as he pushes into Alex’s space, so close he can smell himself on Michael’s breath. 

Alex lets out a shuddering breath. “Yes,” he answers.

Michael leans in to kiss him, quick and dirty and possessive, before he pulls back and says, “Guess I’m just gonna have to wait until the morning to return the favor then.”

“I guess so,” Alex says, hooking his clean hand around the back of Michael’s neck to bring him in for another one.

Michael kisses him back eagerly for a long moment before he pulls away. “Be right back,” he says, and climbs out of bed.

While he’s in the bathroom, Alex shimmies his dirty sweatpants and underwear off his legs and onto the floor. It’s only another minute before Michael’s back, a damp washcloth gripped between his fingers. 

It’s warm against Alex’s skin as Michael uses it to clean him up, and when they’re done they settle down for bed, Alex’s head resting on Michael’s chest and his arm thrown across his waist.

And as Alex finally closes his eyes for the night, his thoughts naturally drift to all the problems they’ll be facing tomorrow morning:

Saving Kyle. 

Freeing Maria. 

Stopping Jones. 

Unlocking the secrets of a mysterious 50 year old alien device and hopefully not going insane while trying.

But as the steady sound of Michael’s heartbeat lulls him to sleep, the loudest thought in his head is that Michael loves him. 

Whatever happens come morning, they’ll deal with it together.

[fictionadventurer]

I like your post about the Hunger Games and agree with most of it, but I still think the love triangle was unnecessary and people are right to criticize it. Collins could have very easily written Gale as the best friend and Peeta as her main love (based on endgame choices) or vice versa I don't even care since I'm not a big shipper of either. But she did introduce the unnecessary drama that overall did not add much to the plot, and it only took away focus. So I think I understand that crit.

Once upon a time, I might have agreed with you. These are good books, important books, and we don’t need to defile this war epic by shoving in teenage-hormone love-triangle dramatics. Then I reread the series, and I was astonished at how, for the most part, the love story is inextricably intertwined with the action-adventure elements. You can’t take out the love-triangle elements without creating a very different book with a very different message. That love-triangle, far from defiling the war story, elevates it into something better.

It starts almost immediately in the first book. We see how Katniss has a deep friendship with Gale, something that could turn into romance, except that she doesn’t dare to go down that path. There’s no place for marriage, and definitely not for new children, in their broken world. She only has energy for day-to-day survival. And once Katniss goes into the Hunger Games, romance is definitely off the table. She needs to harden her heart and make no human connections with the people around her if she wants to have even the slimmest chance of making it back home to her family. In a lesser book, she’d be right–there’d be no goopy romance to distract us from the hard-bitten survival epic that the Hunger Games is supposed to be.

But then Peeta declares his love for her. Suddenly, she’s part of an epic romance on national television. She wants nothing to do with this strategy–love makes you look weak. (And doesn’t that sound a lot like people who criticize the YA love triangle?) But Haymitch counters that it makes her desirable to the audience, and suddenly the thing that had seemed so burdensome becomes necessary to her survival. She needs to play the game–and once they’re in the arena, she needs to figure out if it is a game to Peeta. Peeta has already shown himself capable of manipulating the emotions of all of Panem–is it possible that he’s manipulating her?

This is the real brilliance of the first book’s romance. It doesn’t distract from the main conflict–it is the main conflict. Like so many other teenage girls, Katniss asks herself, “Does this teenage boy like me?”, but in this case the answer is literally a matter of life and death. If he loves her, she can trust him to help her survive. If he doesn’t, he could kill her at any time.

By the time she finds out that his love is real, she has to fake romantic feelings toward him to draw in sponsors. Now she’s manipulating his emotions to survive, and she can’t hope to untangle what’s real and what’s fake in this manufactured mess of a reality show. But Peeta’s influence has shown her that love isn’t pointless in the Hunger Games–it’s the only way for them to truly fight back. She chooses love for Peeta–whether romantic or not–over her own life, and that’s the only reason that, for the first time in history, two victors manage to beat the Capitol at their own game. Katniss won not by being the best warrior, but by showing love. The love story wasn’t a distraction–it was the solution.

It’s only in Catching Fire that she has to deal with the consequences of that. She was willing to die for Peeta, but she’s not sure she wants to live with him, especially since their relationship started under such unreal circumstances. She’d much rather leave the Games–and Peeta–behind and return to the life she knew before. That life included Gale, and Katniss is, for the first time, willing to consider him as a romantic partner. If her romance with Peeta was fake, is it possible that she could have real romance with her best friend?

This is the point where the love triangle comes into full swing, and I’ll admit this is the book where it’s integrated most clumsily. It seems like Katniss is taking some unnecessary risks in pursuing a relationship with Gale, and the plot sometimes comes to a screeching halt so Katniss can think about her emotions. But even if the plot integration isn’t as smooth as it was in the first book, the thematic relevance of the love triangle is still spot-on. Katniss has to think about what she wants–cling to her old life or dive into this new post-Hunger Games world? Does love have a place in this world at war? And when we think about the question in that way, the sloppy integration of the love story into the main action plot is kind of the point. Katniss may be instigating a war, but she’s still a teenage girl. She still has emotions, but she’s being forced to hide or fake so many of them that she doesn’t know who she is, what she wants, or who she wants to be. How can she discover her identity, hold onto her humanity, in the middle of a war?  

Mockingjay is where we get the answer to those questions. With Peeta imprisoned in the Capitol and the war underway, Katniss is saved from having to make an immediate decision about her romance. She echoes every romance-hating fan’s thoughts when she says:

The very notion that I’m devoting any thought to who I want presented as my lover, given our current circumstances, is demeaning.

There’s a war going on! There’s no time for love triangles! But it’s only when she’s not being forced to pursue romance with Peeta that she can really evaluate her relationship with Gale–and she’s finding that it’s not as strong as she thought. When she needs advice, she gets it from Prim, not Gale. When she needs someone who understands the trauma of killing, she goes to Finnick or Johanna. Now that Katniss and Gale don’t have the shared bond of having to care for their families–who are kept safe and fed by District 13–they’re finding that they don’t have much else in common. Katniss is mistrustful of Coin, while Gale is part of her inner circle. Katniss kills only when she has to during the war, while Gale treats weapon design as a fun challenge. This exploration of their relationship isn’t a distraction from the main plot. They’re what make the main plot mean something. This is the lens through which Katniss considers her views on violence, on war, on life, on what the point of their fight is. She and Gale literally have arguments about utilitarian principles! It’s only by exploring and then severing this leg of the love triangle that Katniss finds out who she is and what she really believes.

Collins couldn’t explore these issues in the same way if either Gale or Peeta wasn’t presented as a romantic interest. The nature of eros is desire, and the whole point of the Peeta vs. Gale question is Katniss figuring out what she wants out of life. She needs to be drawn to both of them, in the same kind of relationship, if the question and answer are to mean anything. Does Katniss want her old life, with Gale as the most important person, with his anger driving her to fight for survival by any means necessary? Or does she want a new life with Peeta, where they live for something beyond mere survival? Which man, which philosophy, does she want to devote her life to? If Peeta was the love interest and Gale was only the best friend, she could have both in her life. But you can’t resolve the trilogy’s central question by having Katniss compromise. Choosing one side means she can’t choose the other–and the only relationship that requires such an exclusive choice is a love triangle. Far from distracting from the main plot, the love triangle is what elevates it, takes it beyond a war story where the only question is how the characters will survive, and makes it into a story that tells us how the characters are going to live.

[elriell]

Thank you very much! I find it hard to cut them back and be less detailed to be honest. So let’s dive in to it, two quick points before we start;

There will be no hate here as every ship is valid, I simply going to explain why I believe Elriel is more likely to happen than Elucien. (IMO)

Secondly, if there’s one thing for certain with SJM it is that nothing is certain with her.

Of course like any reader I am nervous for what might happen but looking at it textually speaking I do not think we have much to worry about... Not to mention that if we look at SJM past behaviour we can extrapolate several things.

When Sarah falls in love with a character she is very willing to shift all plans to accommodate them, we have a good example of this with Rowan, once she began writing him she fell in love with him and Chaol was quickly pushed aside. I am sure she has done plenty of interviews saying as much from memory.

SJM Live

- Azriel has a lot of shit going on that we’re going to be able to see in this book.

- Azriel’s song is Mr. Brightside for the vibes. Not necessarily the lyrics. SJM is kinda obsessed with him and telling his story in the future.

- We’re getting to see more of Azriel’s cheeky humor in this one.

 - SJM can’t wait to see theories after everyone reads Azriel’s pov. There’s a lot of crumbs that have been scattered around for his journey.      [ref]

It is safe to say that in her own words Sarah is obsessed with Azriel, which gives us a good idea about who she wants to write about next. This is the same vibe we got off her when she was introducing Rowan to the TOG universe and I think it is a pretty easy assumption to believe the next book is Elain’s too.

Not to mention SJM is not afraid to shake it up and swap out the LI you think it will be, Chaol/Rowan & Tamlin/Rhysand. It is not far fetched to think she would do the same with Elain and Lucien. Not to mention the idea of such a repetitive story ARC like Mates (after Feysand and Nessian) could easily be avoided by doing something like a rejected-bond or second bond.  

I really could not tell you what I think Azriel’s ARC/what he is dealing with is because we have so little information on him all I know is I cannot wait to read it all. He is easily one of my favourite characters, he is so mysterious to us. 

I think Elain’s ARC is going to be all about choice. And we know from SJM that you can have more than one mate.

Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”“You belong to him.”“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

“to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

As far as I am concerned if you look at all SJM couples from all her books there is always that initial Spark™ and I think that impartially if you look at Elain and Lucien they have not had it at all (bar maybe the moment he scents the bond), Elain is completely disinterested in him. In the bond as a whole.

“if it wasn’t for Vassa.” A twitch of the lips, a spark in that russet eye. “She’s doing well enough. Savoring every second of her temporary freedom.”

Azriel mastered himself enough to say, “Thank you.” I’d never seen his hazel eyes so bright, the hues of green amid the brown and gray like veins of emerald.

See? SPARK, literally and figuratively.

You could even argue that she was you know, really struggling at the time the bond snapped in to place so it wasn’t the time for them but then we are given Azriel as a mirror to the situation and we see despite her troubles she is capable of interacting with someone without disinterest. Can and has been attracted too, can smile and laugh with someone despite being upset over Graysen.

Examples;

“You’re welcome to stay for the night,” I said, since Elain certainly wasn’t going to. Lucien lowered his hands into his lap and leaned back in the armchair. “Thank you, but I have other plans.” I prayed he didn’t catch the slightly relieved glimmer on Elain’s face.”

“Azriel smiled faintly. “Would you like me to show you the garden?” But Elain did not balk from him, did not shy away as she nodded—just once. Azriel, graceful as any courtier, offered her an arm.

“And do what?” “Spend time with her.” “I don’t think she’ll tolerate two minutes alone with me, so forget about two weeks.” His jaw worked as he studied the fire.”

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports—likely information on the Autumn Court that he planned to present to Rhys once he’d sorted through it all. Already dressed for the Hewn City—the brutal, beautiful armor so at odds with the lovely garden. And my sister sitting within it.

“You as well.” A sidelong glance toward Elain, swift and fleeting. “Both of you.” Elain said nothing, but at least she bowed her head in thanks.”

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight. Whether he cared about such things, I had no idea, but I sent him a silent prayer of thanks for his kindness before Rhys and I slipped upstairs.

“There were only a few presents left—Lucien’s. [...] I handed Elain the small box with her name on it. Her smile faded as she opened it. “Enchanted gloves,” she read from the card. “That won’t tear or become too sweaty while gardening.” She set aside the box without looking at it for longer than a moment. And I wondered if she preferred to have torn and sweaty hands, if the dirt and cuts were proof of her labor. Her joy.”

“He cares for you.” “He doesn’t know me.”

“You don’t give him the chance to even try to do so.” Her mouth tightened, the only sign of anger in her graceful countenance. “I don’t want a mate. I don’t want a male.” 

“You are his mate. Do you even know what that means?” “It means nothing,” Elain said, her voice breaking. “It means nothing. I don’t care who decided it or why they did—”“You belong to him.”“I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.”

Again like I said, textually when we look at it all together Sarah is not exactly planting the seeds for them at all, now of course there is still time for that to change, and of course we only have a limited perspective but as a reader it doesn’t come across positively. Even if you consider Nessian who have been against each other from the start have had the seeds planted, even as they argued they had tension and emotion.

Sarah has given Elucien so little of anything positive or negative comparitively, it is like the are barely registered. 

Not to mention she puts across Azriel as a candidate time and time again, and as a writer you would not do that for nothing.

“She doesn’t need anything,” Azriel answered without so much as looking at Lucien.

“You know them better than I do. But I will say that Lucien is loyal—fiercely so.” “So is Azriel.”

“Why not make them mates?” I mused. “Why Lucien?” “I’d keep that question from Lucien.” “I’m serious.” I turned toward him and crossed my arms. “What decides it? Who decides it?”

“What if”—I jerked my chin toward the window, to my sister and the shadowsinger in the garden—“that is what she needs? Is there no free will? What if Lucien wishes the union but she doesn’t?”

SJM is sowing doubt at every turn. Then to top it off we are introduced to Vassa through Lucien, and now we finally see him have a spark, blush, and speak of her with almost worship as Feyre points out.

“I …” Lucien fumbled for the words. Not out of some lie or excuse, I realized a moment later. Realized when he said, “I’ve been at the Spring Court every now and then. But if I’m not here in Velaris, I’ve mostly been staying with Jurian. And Vassa.”

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.” “You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” 

Now, I can understand the belief that Elucien could be endgame but you simply cannot deny that before that Elriel & LucienxVassa is going to have to be explored to a degree. 

“Az ran a hand through his dark hair. “Are we …”Unusual for him to stumble with words. “Are we supposed to get the sisters presents?”

“I …” Lucien fumbled for the words. Not out of some lie or excuse, I realized a moment later. Realized when he said, “I’ve been at the Spring Court every now and then. But if I’m not here in Velaris, I’ve mostly been staying with Jurian. And Vassa.”

We also see both couples paralleled. I mean in all honesty I could go on and on and on, there is so many qoutes that I could add but this will just get longer and longer. I am going to link my full Elriel Analysis, and some other stuff about them and rejecting the bond below.

As for our fox boy Lucien!

I really like him, and I do feel like he has a very interesting journey ahead, between his true paternity, Vassa and the mating bond he has a lot coming up for him. I am excited to see where the band of exhiles might take us, despite Feyre’s mockery I am excited that after so long of not belonging anywhere he may have found people to call his own.

Look if Elucien happens after a genuine build up, I will be happy to read their journey, of course I will be very disappointed for Elriel because I truly believe they are the best fit but I am not against Elucien if anything I think Sarah is, more than anyone else.

Like I said I could go on for years, and honestly in 9 days hopefully we have a better idea of the future to base our opinions on. 

I am tagging this Anti-Elucien, not that I feel it is but I don’t want Elucien shippers to have to see it, so if they blacklist the tag the can avoid the negativity ❤︎

[Elriel Meta] [Elriel Kindred Spirits] [Elriel Choice 1 & 2] [Garden] [Thoughts]

[otonymous]

Time After Time: Victor’s Firsts (MLQC NSFW Headcanon)

Hey everyone!  

Thanks to all who voted in my Twitter poll to see whose NSFW “Firsts” headcanons they wanted to read next. 💕Victor was the undisputed victor (haha!) over Kiro, so I hope you all enjoy my longest headcanons to date...ALL 18 MINUTES OF IT! (these totally got out of hand, for whatever reason LOL) 😵😆

Warning: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language - reader discretion is advised.

Naughtiness ensues after the cut!

A Time To Learn: Your Relationship With Victor:

A battle of wills and wits that gradually blossoms into a relationship founded on mutual trust and admiration, learning and growth

Your relationship with Victor isn't easy, especially at the beginning when you are learning about each other and how to mesh with one another — it will be a hard-won love, but one that’s absolutely worth the payoff in the end

Victor is very logical, pragmatic, stubborn, domineering and - especially at the beginning — overprotective (tends to withhold information from you if he feels it would hurt or harm you in any way).  While his intentions come from a good place, it will annoy you to no end to be sheltered like this

But as the relationship progresses and Victor comes to fully understand that you are a grown woman capable of holding her own and making her own decisions, he will gradually cease this type of behaviour  

Initially, it will be hard for you to know where you stand because of Victor's reluctance to let his poker face slip and reveal his emotions.  But when you finally see him crack a smile, or hear the soft chuckle of his deep laughter followed by a muted exclamation of “dummy” or “idiot,” you’ll feel like you’ve won the lottery, becoming addicted to doing whatever you can to see the corners of those lips tug up when he thinks no one is the wiser

When you first defy him, Victor is pleasantly surprised: he's used to getting his way personally and professionally because his overwhelming presence, business acumen and instinct usually lead him in the right directions, so he has rarely ever encountered opposition.  While he is initially taken aback by your bravado, he’ll find your attitude refreshing, amusing even.  His cock will too (more on this later) 😆

This is the type of relationship where one person fills in the gaps of the other: you'll soften Victor’s hard edges, temper the manner with which he interacts with others, and make him laugh harder than he ever thought possible.  You are the figurative sunshine in his life, the warmth he has been missing for so long.

On the other hand, Victor lends you his unflappable confidence, his expertise and experience, the will to stick to your guns and really fight for the things you want.  He is your safe haven, champion and protector.

Talk is cheap for Victor, who prefers to show love and affection by way of action: brewing medicinal soups when you’re sick (with a spoonful of caramel pudding at the ready to chase away the bitter aftertaste), tucking a cozy throw over you when you’ve fallen asleep on the sofa yet again, cooking your favourite foods when he knows you’ve had a rough day, waiting outside your office in the pouring rain to drive you home when he knows you’ve forgotten your umbrella

He also loves to high-key spoil you: whisk you away on his private jet for spontaneous weekend getaways at Lake Como or Bali, beautiful bouquets arranged on your desk Monday mornings at the office just because, an impromptu Champs-Élysées shopping excursion when you mention needing a new winter coat…THAT BLACK CARD THOOOO

Victor is a steadfast lover: reliable, responsible and always, always there when you need him.  He is your rock, a solid foundation from which you are emboldened to jump and reach for the stars…forever knowing he will be there to catch you if you fall

He often anticipates your needs, sometimes even before you realize them.  And as your relationship progresses, the ways in which he offers help will become less overbearing and more sensitive to your feelings and your right to make an informed decision

Victor is most expressive in the bedroom.  For all his emotional reservedness in his everyday life, the passionate nature he keeps buried deep inside is finally given an outlet through sensual pleasures

As with everything else in his life, lovemaking is serious business for Victor.  He is an intense lover who wants to be the very best, the one to erase even the tiniest shreds of whoever came before him.  He needs to leave his mark on you, physically and emotionally.  Even if he wasn’t your first, he’d be damned if he’s not your last.

Ever the epicurean, Victor is the pussy-eating champion.  Thoroughly devoted to exploring you orally, the man would go for hours if you’d let him, taking care not to miss a single inch of trembling flesh.  Obsessed with numbers, Victor is not satisfied to move on to something else until he’s given you multiple orgasms with his tongue alone.

The man is humming(!) in pleasure as he eats: lips, chin and cheeks shiny with your arousal and his spit.  This will be the only time you see Victor with less than impeccable table manners

Victor considers it a point of pride and responsibility to bring you to your climax well before he reaches his own

The man also loves to see you in elegant silks, satins and lace and will surprise you with the most beautiful lingerie

In all honesty though, garter belts, stockings, stilettos and nothing else are this man's jam when he really gets down to business

Needless to say, Victor’s super fit and muscular physique translates to stamina for days...

The First Kiss:

Having spent an exhausting day ironing out the minute details of your proposal with Victor, you slump onto the leather sofa in the corner of his office, meaning to take a 5 minute power nap to recharge while Victor leaves the room for a bathroom break

“The man is a machine…” you think to yourself, stealing a quick glance at your phone before the weight of heavy eyelids finally shepherds you to slumber: 9:15 pm

You are out cold.  Dead to the world.  You don't even hear the click of the door as it opens, or the soft approach of polished Oxfords when Victor quietly crouches to bring his face level with yours, gazing at your sleeping form, undisguised tenderness completely transforming that stoic visage

Victor is smiling, one large hand curling into a loose fist before it rises to cover his mouth — the side of his index smoothing over his cupid’s bow in an unconscious bid to satisfy the desire for physical contact

Jet black eyes sweep from disheveled hair to the delicate silver chain around your neck, pupils widening as they trace the line of your collarbone upon which the sapphire pendant lay

Then…slowly….as if caught in the pull of some hypnotic tide, Victor moves even closer, Adam’s apple prominent in his throat as he swallows.  Paying no heed to the heat gathering beneath an increasingly tight collar, the man continues studying your face, intent on mapping every smooth contour onto his mind for posterity

It is only when he feels the warmth of your breath on his cheek that he stops, breaking out of his trance and mentally chastising himself for almost losing control.  For losing himself in the sight of your soft lips parted in slumber

Just when he makes to stand and cover you with his suit jacket, your eyes fly open to lock onto his

Time stops.  Lost in the intensity of the gaze, neither of you dare to even breathe, let alone speak, lest the sanctity of the moment is broken

The sheer proximity of Victor Li has you captivated: cedar wood and pine wafting subtle from burning skin, long lashes softening dark eyes that blazed with hunger, lips that trembled ever so slightly with longing until you couldn’t help but become famished for just one taste…

And before you can even make sense of what you’re doing, you've propped yourself up on one elbow, bridging the gap between your lips and his — plush, soft and slightly parted

Victor’s eyes widen for a moment, a thousand different emotions silently brewing inside that busy mind until the slide of your tongue into his mouth blankets the chaos with a quiet calm.  Only then does the LFG CEO yield completely to the warmth of your lips and the fire in his soul, eyes closed as he finally allows his body to take what it wants, what it has yearned for since the day you challenged him

And when he gets to this point, Victor's kiss deepens, becoming more and more aggressive until you’re forced to pull back for a bit of air before diving in for a second round

Confession Of Love:

This man is not the type to throw the word “love” around lightly, so when he tells you he loves you, he MEANS IT.  It’s not lust.  It’s not like.  It’s a Ride or Die type of commitment.

Victor Li leaves very little to chance.  The first time he tells you he loves you, he will have planned it…WAY in advance

The man knows timing is everything (haha!) and will choose the very special occasion of your birthday to make his confession

He rearranges his work schedule (and yours) for the special day, flying you out to Paris on his private jet

At exactly 1:14 pm, he’ll present you with your gift at the very top of the Eiffel Towel: a ladies’ version of the Patek Philippe timepiece he himself wears

The back will be engraved with both your initials and the numbers 1-3-1-4.  You'll start shaking the moment you see it.

1:14 pm, 13:14, 1-3-1-4: all essentially meaning "forever" when pronounced in Chinese

Honestly, it will feel like a proposal and in a sense, it is: once Victor is absolutely certain about someone, he will never let them go.  His love is for life.

You are absolutely speechless, hands trembling so hard that Victor has to hold them steady before he slips the watch onto your wrist

Then, after taking a moment to savour the sweetness of having a shared token of love, Victor bends to place a kiss on the back of your hand, the most tender look in his eyes when he finally looks up to say, “I love you.  Happy birthday.”

Doesn’t that sound much nicer than "dummy"?! 😆

The First Night

Despite all the impossible deadlines Victor sets for you in the course of your professional collaborations, the man is incredibly patient when it comes to matters of the heart

Until Victor tells you he loves you, he will not have sex with you (much to your horny chagrin)

This is actually specific to you and not his personal code of conduct per se.  In the past, the man has had no problems bedding women he’s had, at most, lukewarm feelings for

But YOU are a totally different breed, worlds apart from the starlets and socialites that threw themselves at his feet

Victor is fascinated by your honesty: the frankness of your words, your artless behaviour.  Mesmerized by the fact that he can read you like an open book (which is why he is so keen on protecting you from those who would use that to their advantage).  Touched by the genuine kindness and consideration that guides much of what you do.  Impressed by your tireless spirit in fighting for the people and things you care about

In short, he has never met another person quite like you, especially in the cut-throat world of business and high society where he has learned to excel — a place where poker-faced people keeping their cards close to their chests are the norm and not the exception

Holding out on sex is as painful and torturous to Victor as it likely is to you; the man is incredibly attracted to you, and has been since the day you dared to challenge him to secure funding for your company.  Deep down, Victor knows you had him ensnared the moment he saw the fire burning in your eyes (not like he’d ever tell you though LOL)

And each time work brought you before him, the man couldn’t help but notice something new to admire: the way your hair fell in soft wisps — begging to be gently tucked behind the shell of your ear, the captivating flutter of lashes as tired eyes blinked back fatigue, the pleasing lilt of your voice even as you laced your words with sarcasm

It wasn’t long before Victor found his thoughts drifting to you, haunting his nights and sneaking up on him during the day…especially when he was in the shower, eyes closed and moans amplified in the wet heat as his large hand reached down to stroke the length of his cock — imagining your legs wrapped around his waist, your tongue nimble on his shaft

In spite of all this pent-up tension, Victor doesn't rush into sex because he wants things to be done right.  You are the most important person in his life and he feels the need to eliminate any possibility of things going wrong

In short, he won’t treat you like the women who came before because there’s absolutely no comparison: no one has ever made him feel the way you do

That being said, it doesn’t mean you and Victor won't get up to some extreme heavy-petting: grinding on his lap in his Bugatti, palming him through his dress pants at the office, a hand slipped beneath your skirt when you’re bent over wiping kitchen counters at Souvenir as payment for your meal  

So when Victor gives you the ultimate birthday gift of finally telling you he loves you, the two of you are hightailing it back to your penthouse suite at the grandest hotel in Paris, bodies already flush against each other and kissing as the French do in the privacy of an ascending elevator

BUT Victor is the king of deliciously unhurried love making.  It is his preferred modus operandi.  After all, the man really knows how to enjoy the finer things in life: food, wine, your body and every single reaction of bliss that can be teased out of it.

You can bet that Victor will fuck you nice and slow and thoroughly.

PREPARE TO BE PAMPERED LIKE A QUEEN

Strains of Duke Ellington & John Coltrane's “In a Sentimental Mood” are being piped through built-in speakers as Victor approaches you from behind, notes of pine and cedar accompanying the heat of his body, wafting in gentle waves to make the fine hairs of your skin stand on anticipatory end

And as you watch the sun kiss the horizon through a bank of floor-to-ceiling windows — orange rays setting the Eiffel Tower ablaze in a sea of luminous fire — fingertips are trailing up your bare arms, Victor gently gathering your hair to sweep it over one shoulder before pressing his lips to the nape of your neck, eyes closed and inhaling deep, trying to hold on to the subtle sweetness of your skin

His hands, incredibly dextrous despite their size, easily tease apart the knot of your halter dress and you tremble under the intensity of his gaze over your shoulder as they watch satin trace every curve  — your dress dropping to pool on cool marble at your feet

There is something especially exquisite about seeing the City of Light laid out before you as you’re slowly laid bare by Victor.  And just when you start to blush at standing stark naked before the fully clothed CEO, he places your hands on his chest, seductive command permeating that deep voice when he says, “Undress me.”

Sliding your palms over the broad expanse of his pecs, you palpate the rhythm of his heart, caress the lines of hard muscle beneath that perfectly starched dress shirt  

By the time your fingers are unbuttoning his collar, his Adam's apple is already bobbing in his throat, the deep breaths he’s drawing to rein in desire amplifying the rise and fall of his chest

When the last button is undone, the sight of Victor’s gloriously perfect torso erodes the last of your frayed patience and you’re practically tearing the shirt off his muscular arms, wrestling with his belt.  And although you are dying inside from your lack of finesse, Victor is secretly thrilled that you want him that badly.  Full marks 😆

Finally….finally….that beautiful body is revealed in all its glory: sculpted from innumerable laps in his olympic sized pool and so genetically blessed below the belt that your mouth is watering at the sight

BUT FIRST, a bath!  Blue balls be damned, Victor Li will enjoy this moment to its fullest.  He knows that a slow seduction can build up to the most explosive sex.  Clearly.

The man will absolutely insist on bathing you, don't even try to fight it.  He gets an acute sense of satisfaction from taking care of you in every sense of the word.  Also, there’s nothing quite like the slippery slide of his hands all over your body

Step into the marble infinity tub and lay back against his broad chest.  Soak in the warm waters as you take in the view of the city around you, the peony-scented candles, the white-petaled orchids…all meticulously planned by the man soaping you from behind, gentle hands exploring

Lose yourself in his touch: fingertips trailing after bubbles that glide over the swell of your breasts, large hands submerging to wrap around your waist until they cross at the navel, moving down to rub languid circles between your legs until you tremble — Victor’s lips finding yours when your head falls back against his shoulder in bliss

And when you reach behind to feel him - long, hot and hard  - his soft groans will drive you to the precipice of madness until you’ve got him sitting on the edge of the tub: face a mask of ecstasy to feel your lips on him, your greedy mouth never seeming to get enough of his delicious flesh

Best believe that Victor almost has a heart attack when you let him slip from your mouth when he begins to twitch, observing him with innocence in your eyes as you pump him to completion, teasing the tip of his cock with your hardened nipples while he coats your chest in his release

The man is DONE when you finally look down at your breasts as if surprised, gathering up his cum with the tip of your index and bringing it to your lips for a taste, coy smile blooming all the while on your face

Jaw tightens.  Cock hardens.  And suddenly the world around you slows to a stand-still as you’re lifted so quickly you barely have time to think before his hands are coaxing your legs around his trim waist, your body wet and slippery against Victor’s as he carries you to the bedroom

Laying you upon the king-sized bed, Victor’s lips seek the heat between your thighs — lapping fast, tasting slow, drawing out slick pleasure to coat his tongue and wrench his name from somewhere deep in your throat

Nothing gets Victor Li hotter, faster, than the sound of your voice, desperate and needy for him.  The man is addicted to it.  You can bet he won’t be emerging from between your legs until his cheeks and chin are so shiny it’s obscene, and you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve convulsed against his fingers and tongue, orgasms bleeding one into the other like sweetly turbulent waves

And when he finally rises — your flavour faint on his tongue as his lips find yours — he’ll swallow your moans as he finally pushes into you: gradual, gentle, savouring every searing twitch of muscle adjusting to the welcome intrusion of his long, thick heat

Hips moving fast, swaying slow…pelvis grinding in circles to hit your clit because he can’t get enough of the way you shudder against him, or the sting of your teeth sinking into the flesh of his shoulders (mark him up, Victor LOVES it)

EDGING: Victor will hit that spot with expert precision over and over again till you’re on the verge of exploding…only to pull away, rhythm slowing to a grind to leave you hyperventilating and dizzy with need as this torturous pattern repeats

When he finally lets you (and himself) come, you are a sweaty, screaming mess, nails scratching to leave crimson welts on Victor’s back that will make the man smile to see in the mirror the following morning

Victor likes to remain buried deep within you for a bit after his release, holding you in his arms as he peppers you with kisses: on your lips, cheeks, forehead and eyelids

Afterwards, you can bet that the CEO will have a full spread delivered to the suite, where the two of you will spend the rest of the evening feeding each other in bed in between rounds of passionate lovemaking.  Remember?  Victor has stamina for DAAAAAYYYYYSSS and has to make up for lost time 😂

⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱⏱

Thanks so much for reading!  Check out more of my work here! 📚

[cerberus253]

Demon Deep Dive (JCA)

Someone asked if I could do headcanons for the Eight Demon Sorcerers from Jackie Chan Adventures, so here it is, and more! Much more oh God...

Canon Stuff

All seven Demon Sorcerers HATE Shendu for his conniving nature and deceptive past towards/with them (Drago just hates him because father issues)

The Demon Sorcerers do not need external objects to perform spells, for it simply comes from their physical being

They are all old fucks

There are plenty more demon sorcerers, but these eight/nine are all those that were ever mentioned

All want to rule the world

Everyone, aside from Shendu, actually somewhat care about each other and agree to rule the world together. Why is that even though they shouldn’t have “social urges“ because of their biology? We’ll discuss that later

Looking back on the very first episode they were all in together, they are fucking in sync as all Hell! They were finishing each others’ sentences, they knew what each one was thinking. Damn, son, they be tight AF; family goals, amiright?

How to start a Demon Sorcerer meeting: Step 1) Find Po Kong, Step 2) Call everyone else over because it would take too long moving her at all

About the individual demons themselves (Most of this is reworded from the Wiki, but confirmed through watching their episodes):

Hsi Wu

Guerilla tactics for the win

Oddly patient, ya know, for someone so kind of childish

Becomes bored easily, so he has the knack to pick on his siblings and humans, with the latter being in more vicious and cruel ways

Aside from Shendu, Hsi Wu is the most bullied by his siblings (it’s because he’s small, isn’t it??)

Although he hates Shendu like the rest of his siblings, he is more “cold and apathetic“ towards him, with occasionally getting along, albeit extremely slight

High pitched noises hurts his ears

“His wings are sharp enough to cut through concrete“

Playful, although in a sadistic way

Simply flies to get where he needs to be

Likes to pester and make fun of Po Kong specifically

He just. Constantly smiles or has this big wide, toothy grin on his face all the time

*gremlin noises* *cat hisses*

Best/Worst Actor Award goes to...

Tso Lan

Sophisticated and more-or-less monotone sounding, he is always on alert with his senses. Despite this, his reaction timing is awful

Seemingly emotionless, his relaxed demeanor breaks when something doesn’t go his way. He does display some sarcasm, though

According to the wiki, he is very hard to please and never compliments anyone. What a stuck-up asshole

Along with Bai Tza and Xiao Fung, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

He apparently is one of the elder siblings

He is one of the most powerful sibling because he can bring the fucking Moon out of fucking orbit like it is nothing

He is Shantae He can control his hair, as well as float and glide gracefully

He can survive in space

He does indeed have legs, for he has been seen walking ONCE and we get to see his boots (Demon World (Part 2))

Shendu (My apologies, but not my regret, about if you are upset with me and my loathing for Shendu)

Selfish asshole who doesn’t like sharing, even with his family

Everybody Hates Shendu and Shendu Hates Everybody, and they all want each other dead, including Drago

Legit, he made a truce with Uncle, the mortal enemy, so he could horribly punish Drago. What a good father, amiright???

Can hold a grudge for, like, ever and hardly ever keep his promises. He also willingly admits he’s a traitorous bastard

Greedy and sophisticated asshole

Like, Jesus Christ, I wanted to give Shendu some slack because I did not want myself to be blinded by hatred for the guy, but my God is he the worst

“Shendu is not only devoid of compassion and sympathy for mortals, but also cares little to nothing for his family-members - this is displayed most markedly by how he left his siblings to rot in the Netherworld so he could rule the Earth himself.“

“Father and son's relationship was so toxic that Shendu even declared when Drago was being sucked into an interdimensional rift that his son deserved no less than to be trapped on the other side for his disloyalty.“

“Despite this, in response to Drago's apology and profuse pleading, Shendu visibly contemplated for a moment and hesitantly decided to try saving Drago from his fate (with a warning that his son must remember he is second to Shendu while they're on Earth), suggesting Shendu might genuinely care about his son to some extent (or at the very least, as close to caring about another being as Shendu is capable of).“ Um, not sure if I agree on the “genuinely care“ part, but totes on board with the “just wants him for a playing chip“ thought

Although he may be one of the most powerful demons of the family, that does not stop his siblings from actively going against him, which surprisingly makes Shendu submissive to them. Hmm...

He legit cares about no one but himself and that is no overstatement. I’m sorry to all those fangirls out there :V

Once ruled all of China

Shendu gets all whiny and high pitched, often stuttering, when expressing fear (which is every single time he gets a family reunion, which reminds me...)

He can be such a cheeky charmer

Although Shendu only cares about himself, he does seem pretty observant with recognizing what others do want, and of course uses that to his advantage. Hm, observant guy; no wonder he has fangirls

Tchang Zu

Not that talkative, even during fights, and rather only speaks when he feels the need to. However, when he does speak, it is rather loud and/or commanding

Hates when he isn’t respected, especially out of fear. He hates it so much he verbally explodes with anger when something personal to him is disrespected

Is willing to get down and dirty when reaching his (and his siblings’) goals

Is most likely the most colorful with his wording and admiring architecture

Really only attacks those he deems worthy (apparently there was a crowd of humans he only bothered scaring away and not attacking, even though they only saw him as entertainment?)

Become Goku Flies on a cloud to get where he needs to be

Oh my God he sits criss-cross-applesauce

Dai Gui

A little under average intelligence, but his brutality and strength make up for it, being an absolute bulldozer with anything that stands in his way

I must reinforce the “a little under average“ part because he does use the word “ludicrous,“ which is no caveman word

Violent and macabre imagery is his verbal forte

A big bully, since he loves throwing his authority around to those under him

Similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui is also willing to do dirty work, but mainly for himself than for others

Absolutely LOATHES “pretty“ things, like flowers

Sometimes talks in third person

Seems to prefer using his raw strength than his magical powers

Laughs at his own jokes

Persistent and dedicated. Nice!

Po Kong

Hungry Hungry Hippo; food is always on the mind, I wouldn’t be surprised if her want to rule the world was second on her list

Although she can and would eat anything, she is still picky

Her favorite flavor is human and salt

She knows French (ah yes, one of the “Love Languages”)

She snores

Po Kong likes to torment Hsi Wu

She can walk on her own

Favorite food: Human

Bai Tza

Hates Shendu the most

Most outspoken and dominating out of all the demons (”verged on superiority complex”)

Tends to deal with situations more realistically, as well as learning from past mistakes

Despite her intelligence, her hubris still gets the best of her

Along with Tso Lan and Xiao Fung, she is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Apparently didn’t have humans living in her palace, which was Atlantis

Can levitate

Bunch of banshee screeches. Yeesh

Xiao Fung

Talkative and slimey diplomat that prefers debating with his siblings rather than arguing and fighting

Enjoys fights to the death between his underlings

Has an interest in drama and being a part of it

Seems to be the most cooperative and decent when working with humans. Cool!

Absolutely despises the Netherworld so much that a human prison is “paradise“ to him

Along with Bai Tza and Tso Lan, he is one of the more authoritative demon figures of the family

Need to get somewhere? No problem, just jettison your way with wind bellows from your lungs through your mouth

Although he does care for his siblings, it’s apparently not enough to “carry the burden“ of freeing them. Maybe it’s out of pure laziness? He does seem against doing active things (other than blowing wind, which only he can do)

Headcanon Stuff

Why do the Demon Sorcerers (besides Shendu) actually care for one another and agree to share the Earth between each other? I did say they do not possess the inherent-to-parent instinct, but I never said they were not social animals. The demons may not have the need to reproduce or want sexual anything, but they do posses the need/want to have company, which is kind of supported by the fact that canonically and in real life, Chinese demons mainly want to be praised and treated like gods. One cannot be considered a god, nor be praised in general, if one does not have beings beneath or beside them for confirmation

So, in a way, you could say they all desire some sort of reassurance of their importance.

Their relationship with humans is understandable, given from with what I just said, but the relationship between one another is a little more... deep? They obviously consider each other legit family, so they do care about one another (with some rough-play rivalry), but I think it’s less on the biological factor and more of the “fitting in“ factor.

Here’s my theory: Yes they are biologically family, but they did not view each other as such originally. After a while of being with one another, experiencing similarities, they became family-close in the metaphorical sense (in addition to the literal sense). This would explain how Shendu could have lost touch with them intimately while the others did not with each other, all the while still considering each other as family.

So, despite my whole push on the demons having little compassion, they do still harbor it; expressing it through family feelings. However, just like humans, there are always those who posses less compassion than the average person, and that would be Shendu. Shendu is the psychopath of the family-- the Black Sheep, if you will

In addition, theoretically, for all those fangirls and guys out there, they could love you like a precious pet. Just sayin’ (so, like, imagine the Demon Sorcerers having human pets and treating them like we do our own “Look how much of a chonkster my human is!” “Oh yeah? Well mine started getting ready for winter early; look at this massive boy-o!” I call my cats “stupid, stinky babies who I love” and then proceed to cuddle them all the time :V)

Fuck it, they have family movie/theatre nights because I find it endearing even though it may be Out of Character

To begin this next section, I want to state that the Demon Sorcerers are based on The Bagua. However, it is merely their elements that are the inspiration, not anything with the philosophy behind Bagua. However however, I will be looking into it and seeing what the Bagua has that still can reflect on the sorcerers. In other words, instead of basing the demons on the Bagua, I’ll be “basing“ the Bagua on the demons, if that makes sense.

Smol

Hsi Wu’s kingdom was probably located on the eastern coast of the USA

Judging by that teacher’s transformation with some of his chi, he may have “avian tendencies” with flying south for the winter and building nest-like structures

Probably the most convincing one to “befriend“ a human. Not because of his past friendship with Jade, but because people could relate to him of being picked on from size and lack of abilities, in addition to being more approachable because of his size and playfulness

His demeanor is mostly childlike, especially with how cruel children can be

Probably dislikes orchestral music, especially violins, flutes, the triangle, etc

Would most likely become a memester. Maybe.

“How do ya do, fellow kids?“

Likes to listen to music/singing while doing things and stuff. So, maybe he has to be distracted to some degree to be content, or he will be grumpy? (AD(H)D)

Real Talk: At one point in Tale of the Demon Tail (where Jade “befriends” Hsi Wu, or really his persona), Hsi Wu’s persona of being Jade’s friend actually disintegrates. Meaning, that “mask“ he put on to befriend Jade, at one point dissolved into an actual aspect of himself. So, when he answered Jade’s question of ‘are you going to the dance‘ or whatever, his initial response was that of an actual human-child Hsi Wu friend. While yes he was still acting, his initial response was almost unconscious, and then he realized what he was saying and said the other thing. I mean, it could have easily been “Nah, that’s stupid-- oh wait, that’s a good idea to get inside the house, actually,“ but that still follows the unconscious response action. What am I getting at here? Well, the interaction the two had proves that a clump of Hsi Wu’s personality does click with Jade. I’m not saying “I ship it“ or anything, what I’m saying is their personalities attract one another in general and could work between two different characters. As much as they seem to get along, there are other characteristics the two have that oppose one another and definitely shatters that friendship. So, Jade and Hsi Wu Being Friends? No; Some Personality Traits They Have Connect to One Another in General and Could Work Between? Yes.

The ye olde game of Chase is probably his favorite. Ya know, the game where you chase people around? Yeah, any game where he gets to chase/hunt his pray would be his favorite

Very similar to Shendu, Hsi Wu is one of the craftier folk of the family. However, unlike Shendu, creativity is his primary weapon which is, of course, used to make up for his size. 

Similar to Xiao Fung, Hsi Wu is also one of the siblings that listens and pays attention the most. Their difference being is the information he learns is more for his selfish advantage than a “getting along” way. 

Despite his dishonesty towards Jade, he is the most integral to himself. What I mean is, while yes all the demons follow their demon ethos, I believe Hsi Wu is the most true to himself and wouldn’t back down or reject something he is honestly interested in. However, probably because he knows how others know him, he can use this integrity to fool others into believing him with ease.

Hsi Wu is also probably the most inclined to have faith in others, but this DOES NOT mean he easily trusts people. What I’m saying is he may not easily trust others, but when he does, that faith in them is near unwavering

“The Beauty of Mischief”

“Lord High Lord of the Sky,” or “Lord High Lord of Firmament”

Vamps

Tso Lan’s “kingdom“ was probably located on the Moon

Like all sophisticated assholes, he probably enjoys reading, but only books that deal with the fall of humanity and apocalypse stuff. Maybe even some space stuff, like the movie Interstellar? (Star Wars can kiss his ass, though)

Can posses dark matter? Because of his dark magic bolts and his affinity with gravity?

Doesn’t like being around people. His siblings are fine, but he rather not have company, judging by how he most likely spends his time on the Moon and rarely visits Earth. Antisocial personality disorder much??

Like we have stated earlier, Tso Lan never gives out compliments, for he is oh so difficult to please. He watches intently and is careful with his neutral wording, always sounding cold and cruel. However, despite his emotionless disposition, he does have some ugly colors. For example, he does get angry, especially when he is interrupted. Example two, he does take pleasure in tormenting his enemies. However, the good color of natural tranquility explains his seemingly “lack of emotion.”

If he can ever “give respect” to anyone, it’s probably so difficult to achieve it should be considered impossible. But hey, if you do somehow get his compliments, consider yourself special, home slice! In addition, it’s probably also highly unlikely to get him to laugh. Like, not even a chuckle. Maybe a sarcastic and flat “Ha,“ but nothing too intense.

He may not think of himself as king or an emperor, but he does view himself as some sort of higher metaphysical power, like a pontiff. In addition, he probably sees his position being the highest because of his throne on the Moon and his power over gravity (and maybe dark matter). Being used to this placement, he has distanced himself from just about every living thing, being untainted with normal, petty desires. Oh but being a demon has its drawbacks, for wanting is in the blood. Meaning, there are most likely some things out there that he may desire (Fanfic Writers, assemble!)

You want him him to talk dirty to you? Why yes, you should keep good hygiene and not be smelly. Real Talk, though, because of his lack of emotion words, he probably would have difficulty conveying emotion verbally. But hey, his voice and tones are enough to get anyone aroused :V

Might secretly like dancing, but only simple ones. Like, The Waltz would be the most active he’d like

Might also hum tunes every so often. Despite that, he still prefers silence over noise of any kind.

“The Beauty of Isolation”

“Lord High Lord of the Moon,” or “Lord High Lord of Satellites”

Shit Dad

Probably studies magic the most and has a huge library filled to the brim with spell books and whatnot

Drago may be on his mind a lot, but probably not for any positive reason

Probably had Drago made for that thing in Taoism where two beings can connect one another metaphysically, and if one is in trouble (like they died or something), the other can help out (and resurrect if need be). Or, he wanted someone that wasn’t human on his side because he’s sure as Hell his siblings won’t side with him

While Drago is way more hotheaded than his Dad, it seems Shendu is more likely to let a petty grudge get in the way of his goals

Shendu hates family reunions

Dude’s a mad scientist

Probably regrets having Drago

Oh God, oh fuq, it’s the Big Bad Dragon that wants everything for himself. He must know what his name translates to because oh boy does he feel entitled to his mighty sovereignty. Like, he lusts for power so much that no amount of trickery could mask his clarity of greed, ya know, like a “true” dragon. What he wants, he will obtain, with let nothing obstruct his path… other than a petty grudge. He’s so full of passion and thermal rage he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst his brethren. He would even sink to deep lows to get what he desires, even if it is heavily depending on humans, lying, cheating, and stealing from his own family, doing forbidden things with humans to have a “son” he only wants to use as a playing piece, and even bend reality to his liking.

However, I must say it is impressive and admirable how adaptive he is with every situation he finds himself in. He is rather courageous and would try anything to reach his goal, even if it is siding with the enemy. Shendu speaks in sophistication and eloquence, to which the latter trait he shares with Xiang Zu, despite his childlike outbursts of rage.

He may not be the most elementally powerful sibling, but he is The Best with knowledge about other magics like spells and potions.

He does perform the stereotype of “dragons are beasts of greed” exceptionally well, which, I can admit, is pretty hot, being a monster lover myself

Something I’ve noticed with his face is that he lacks lips, which are replaced with external tooth-like structures. This actually forces the creators to make him expressive through other means, like his eyes. So, he’s expressive, and he fits the draconic poem I read in a book somewhere “Beware the glint in a dragons’ eye/ It is cold as ice to the liar/ It is sharp as a knife to the knave/ It is hard as iron to the greedy/ It is a burning flame to the brave.”

“The Beauty of Wrath”

“Lord High Lord of Fire,” or “Lord High Lord of The Thermal”

Sparky

Tchang Zu’s kingdom was probably located on the western coast of the USA

Would request for extravagant buildings and structures, as well as being a big fan of theatre (Beowulf, anyone?)

I can imagine him having a deep, boisterous laugh that is an award to trigger

Probably the best war strategist, everyone would hate playing Axis and Allies with him (He’d either play Russia for the size, or Germany because, well, you know)

(I’m just repeating what I’ve already stated, but whatever.) Similar to Tso Lan, Tchang Zu is careful with his words. However, what the latter does is speak only when he deems it appropriate, and sometimes with eloquence. When he does share his thoughts, it is in an assertive tone, making everyone stop and listen.

Tchang Zu is rarely ever caught off guard and surely plants himself where he stands, literally and figuratively. Despite his assertiveness, he does not come off as one of the most “authoritative” figures of the family. Instead, he’s more of an overseer and commander, making sure everything is falling in line under his, and his siblings’, iron-fist.

He is one of the few that would take the initiative when confronting a problem, which must be pretty terrifying for the opposition, seeing as how intimidating he is. Oof. Although he is on the shorter side, it does not bother him, for he knows his power is just as great as his siblings’.

Unlike his siblings, he wouldn’t be one of the “crafty” folk. What I mean is he isn’t a trickstery cuck like Hsi Wu and Shendu, but actually follows demon code and honor. I mean, not that “demon honor” is anything greater or equal to “human honor,” but the point still stands. What is “Demon Code and Honor” you ask? I dunno, watch Jackie Chan Adventures and observe demon culture yourself.

His demeanor may be slow and steady, but when he fights and flashes lightning, so much power and energy erupts from within. Majestic

Knows how to use semicolons properly

“The Beauty of Imperiality”

“Lord High Lord of Thunder,” or “Lord High Lord of Electricity”

Dai Guinguini

Dai Gui’s Kingdom was probably located on the western coast of Europe, maybe more specifically Spain

Let’s take that “hates pretty things“ even further beyond. The words “delicate and innocent“ usually come to mind when the words “pretty“ and “flower“ are shown. So, I headcanon he hates weak and fragile looking things, as well as cute. The more petite and dainty something looks, the more of an urge to destroy rises up

Probably needs to hold down a vomit when seeing romance in any medium (lava vomit?)

Also probably iffy on crystals and gems. Like, they are shiny and pretty and are sometimes delicate, but man, the massive structures these things can form into is crazy.

Dai Gui reminds me of the colossi in Shadow of the Colossus when viewed just wandering around. We know he acts like a brute and hates petite things, and is quite aggressive when he fights, but there’s something about him that makes me think of some majestic creature that likes to walk around all alone in a wide open space. There is some beauty to his “monstrosity” and I feel like that’s overlooked by him always being described as, well, a brute. 

Although not as intense as Shendu’s, rage can also be a common sight with Dai Gui, but it’s mostly from his non preferred environments. Also, similar to Tchang Zu, Dai Gui appreciates his structural surroundings, but has a more keen interest in its earthly variety. Mountains, canyons, plains, plateaus, mesas, volcanos, deserts, etc. would be his ideal territory. Like I have mentioned before, I feel like he’d often roam around his landscape, constantly fixing and changing anything he desired. 

Even though he doesn’t like flowers and such, I do not think he hates nature in general. Maybe most of it, but not all. He may like huge ass trees for their size and might, grasslands (like savannas) because, although grass is all over, it still gives a vast emptiness of calmness, which deserts give a vast emptiness of despair.

Quick note, I’m not saying he’s artistic and elegant. What I am saying he isn’t just a dumb idiot caveman that just lusts for destruction, but rather actually has a hobby of shaping the earth. Yes, he might find the terrestrial variety of the earth interesting, but he isn’t all, like, “Hmm yes, insert fancy art words here;” he’s more like “Hm yes, me like; I shall do more over there” and then just… does it without any pre planning or anything.

Not only does he like creating earthly structures, but also destroying them. Have you ever built something so cool (or have just seen something so cool) with Legos or whatever, and for some reason want to destroy it just because ‘ha ha destruction fun’? Yeah, that’s him sometimes.

I’d also like to add he likes bugs. Not only eating them, but also admiring their earth shaping tendencies. Their structures won’t stop him from eating them all, but he does like to see what they make before the big snack

I bet he likes to sunbathe sometimes. Mmmmm, warm rocks always feel good. Cool rocks, too! (This also made me think of belly rubs… hmm)

“The Beauty of Incessance”

“Lord High Lord of Earth,” or “Lord High Lord of Formation“

Mount Vesuvius

Po Kong’s kingdom was probably located in Japan, and/or Japan itself

Most likely the one to zone out on meetings with just thoughts on food (ADD maybe?)

Although she’d eat anything, Po Kong probably appreciates and remembers excellent meals. In addition, she probably could describe in detail of various tastes

Or, alternatively, since she eats so much all the food just blends together

Apparently, humans taste like chicken. So maybe, genetically create giant ass chickens, like in Skyrim, and feed her that if humans become scarce and/or too small for satisfaction

Probably the most difficult demon to satisfy, but not just because of hefty demands, but because she is practically the personification of gluttony. Like, I’m sure she can and will eat anything she wants, even inorganic things. She likes it? Nom. She hates it? Nom. She will never be fulfilled until she has consumed all… or until she explodes or whatever. I’m being dramatic. 

Luckily, she is not picky. Unluckily, she is also picky. I guess it just depends on her hunger mood. One day, she may want just a bunch of salty snacks, likes chips and fries, and on another day she may want a giant bundt cake filled with gooey human flesh and blood. 

Legit though, her kingdom/empire would be the number one food place in the entire world, with having the largest kitchen and all the best cooks (ha ha, like a collection. You could say she would have Too Many Cooks, but “too many” doesn’t exist in Po Kong World!). She would have food critics to make sure the meals she really wants to enjoy taste wonderful. Dude, like, imagine Gordon Ramsay and Guy Fieri at her command. She’d laugh her ass off with Ramsay yelling at people and Fieri with all of his antics; they’d be her favorite little humans. Funny, they’d both still be practically doing the job they do now, just being ordered around by a tyrannical demon who also likes food.

Has no interest in video games and picture shows, but does have the interest in the unique food that appears in them and of course demands them to be made for her.

To get on her “good side” is to be absolutely loyal to her and her eating habits. Ya gotta make the best meals, serve them in delightful ways (she actually doesn’t care about any fancy stuff, but appreciates the effort if done right).

I bet she likes getting spoiled. I mean, yeah, all the demons would want gifts rained down upon them, but they wouldn’t express as much glee as Po Kong would. She’d probably sound condescending half the time, but hey, at least she’s happy and smiles. Gotta give her big gifts though. Go big or go home, folks.

Just like us folk, she prefers Maximum Comfort when eating. That means sitting in her favorite chair, eating from her favorite dish, and watching her favorite entertainment pieces.

Ya into vore? She’s your woman *finger guns*

“The Beauty of Indulgence”

“Lord High Lady of the Mountains,” or “Lord High Lady of Beasts“

What do you call a fish without eyes? A Fsh

Bai Tza’s kingdom is factually Atlantis, but in the JCA universe, Atlantis might be close to the southern coast of Europe in the Mediterranean Sea

She’d be the one initially planning family get-togethers  

Do I dare say I could imagine her being a dominatrix? Yeah sure

Similar to Tso Lan, she has/had an isolated kingdom away from humanity, but unlike her brother she most likely had subjects, which lived coastal in southern and south-east Europe, Northern Africa, and the Middle-East. Every civilization took a part in building her castle and its decor, but soon after it was complete, she sank it to the bottom of the Mediterranean Sea, never to be gazed upon with mortal eyes ever again.

Although she can survive in either, Bai Tza prefers warm and salty waters over cool and fresh waters. 

Because of her unique bond with water, which literally has her able to morph to and fro between a liquid and solid state, she probably traveled and oversought numerous locations around the world, with any place being close to warm and salty seas. Did she hold dominion over them? Maybe, seeing as how just the Mediterranean Sea and most of its surrounding land is quite small for a kingdom when compared to her siblings’ territories. 

Bai Tza may not be one of the most powerful siblings, but she is the most feared. She’s able to restrain herself when angry, she thinks outside the box when confronting obstacles, and her dynamism makes her tricky to confront. She is straightforward, blunt, and has a wicked and sharp tongue. Like stated before, she is one of the more outspoken relatives, being very dominant in every activity she takes part in. Wouldn’t surprise me if she was a control freak. However, enjoying her power so much leads her to be arrogant, making her hubris the number one weakness.

Bai Tza is probably the most cruel because she actively thinks about the damage she can cause instead of just doing it. Despite her cruelty, she isn’t heartless; she may in fact be the one that cares about her family the most, with having the most hatred for Shendu because of his betrayal to said family. On a side note with Drago, she probably rejects him mostly for his differences than his relation with Shendu, but of course the latter still counts. So, welcoming those into her tight personal circle would be a ‘no.’ 

Despite her evilness, she can and will compliment things that amuse her, and being super protective of them like personal property.

Would drown ships with anti-demon supporting humans on them, as well as anyone who enters her territory without permission. Probably could be convinced with gifts, but they better be good. 

Theoretically could forgive past mistakes, but they must be made up with something equal or greater amount to said mistake. 

Likes to wear jewelry, especially gold.

“The Beauty of Absolution“

“Lord High Lady of Water,“ or “Lord High Lady of the Abyss“

Froggy

Xiao Fung’s kingdom was probably located in Latin America

One of the smarter siblings, Xiao Fung prefers to discuss and debate over physically fighting. Not sure why, but maybe because he doesn’t view physical fighting as something “high ups” do; all of the dirty work is for the peasants beneath them. However, if forced and there being no other way, he would partake.

Knows the art of conversation quite well and usually dishes out the best conversations. He may not be eloquent like Tchang Zu, or very particular with his words like Tso Lan, but damn can he keep a conversation going if need be. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’d yak with others if he’s bored. Maybe try talking some existential stuff with him; that’d be neat. Or keep asking ‘why’ like an annoying child, and he’d probably be tricked into answering each one, with getting annoyed more and more the longer it all goes on.

Despite his laziness, he still would do activities that require his assistance, as long as it’s something only he can do. If there is someone else available, he’ll leave it to them.

Xiao Fung is probably one of the more “approachable” demons, being how he doesn’t immediately give off  “fear and respect me or die” vibes. He’s still intimidating, but to those with any amount of courage could muster up to confront him. Ya know, if it isn’t anything personal to him, then in that case you’d be the one telling everyone how terrifying he is, also, ya know, if he lets you go back to your village. 

It wouldn’t surprise me if he had decision making issues when it comes to something he likes vs something useful/”right” 

If a human went up to him and made a deal, he most likely would take it as long as he gets something in return that he wants, as well as the odds being in his favor. 

Human antics are strange and insignificant, but they are still intriguing to him and would converse about it. Just don’t think you’d make him change his opinion on us; that won’t happen, fo sho. 

The most forgiving and patient of the family, although it may not be by much. It most likely stems from his diplomatic character, being willing to discuss situations, even thoughts he leans more against. It’s really the subjects she is 100% not on board with he will not discuss, but something around 70%-60% he’d be more willing to listen to. Whether he actually agrees with you and is not just listening for amusement is another story. 

Really enjoys music, favoring well put together orchestral.

Could hold some serious long notes, and probably sing in all sorts of keys (Dude. Singing bass)

Dude probably loves board games like chess.

Tchang Zu and him probably get along well because of shared interests in theatre and strategy games.

Would be the one to bring up topics to get everyone arguing if things got boring, like politics. In addition, he would also bring up playing the “Friendship Ender” games we all know and love, like Uno and Monopoly.

While Hsi Wu carries the “shit eating smile,” Xiao Fung has the “smug cat” face.

“The Beauty of Disruption“

“Lord High Lord of Wind,“ or “Lord High Lord of Currents“

Bonus Factoids Upon my Research

Theoretically, because it is stated that the Twelves Talismans are physical manifestations/vessels of Shendu’s powers, the other eight sorcerers (this includes Drago) could have their own Twelves Talismans

Apparently, killing/destroying a demon causes the disruption of balance within the universe, causing a “stronger evil“ to manifest and fill that “wound.“ So, again, theoretically, could a “stronger good“ happen as well if a situation summons/calls for it??

Sadly, according to Shendu, the all chi-absorption thing Drago did at the end of Season 5 is irreversible. So, canonically, Drago is technically forever stuck as a Cthulhu abomination. I am forever sad. Like, yeah I’m a terato lover, but I really prefer Drago as normal :’( However, Shendu answered to a human using a man-made chi spell. What if the actual Demon Sorcerers did a chi spell, to which apparently is conductible without external means? Could they be powerful enough to reverse it if all of them worked together???

[Chinese and English Name/Japanese Name- Chinese Translation/Japanese Translation]

Hsi Wu/Tokage- Evil Lizard/Small Lizard

Tso Lan/Kyuketsuki- Flood maker/ Vampire

Shendu/Kiryu- God of All (oof)/Spirit Dragon

Tchang Zu/Oni- Soldier of Madness/Ogre

Dai Gui/Shishi- Great Ogre/Stone Lion

Po Kong/Daikaiju- Feared Cliff/Giant Monster

Bai Tza/Nisei- Force of Defeat/Second Generation

Xiao Fung/Keroro- Little Wind/Frog

Early Christmas gift to y’all :V

God I hope this is good enough. I’ve been spending all my free time working on these guys just to get the original ask done. Don’t get me wrong, I did like doing this and forming at least some kind of unique character with each, but I am so exhausted from how long I’ve been working on it. It’s mainly my fault for being such a try hard, so don’t blame yourself, Anon who asked for this; you all good, bruv.

[winifredsandersonsbitch]

“Why Not Me?”

Spike x Summers!Reader, BTVS

Warnings: angst, character death, cursing, some sexual content

Description: The reader is struggling with their sister’s death and needs a helping hand. Set between the end of S5 and the beginning of S6.

This has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute while I’ve been working on other stuff. It’s actually one of the first Spike pieces I wrote 🙈 I’m not in love with it, but I’ve been busy with other things lately and I wanted to release some new content, so here you go! I’m currently working on figuring out how to put together a masterlist and link my stories with the read more thing that I see on other fic writers’ pages so things are a little more organized.

Also (last thing, promise), I just wanted to say how much I appreciate the likes and comments you guys leave! @kind-wolf especially has helped motivate me so much in releasing new work, even if I feel it’s not my best ❤️

The first few days are hard. You wouldn’t be able to get yourself out of bed if not for Dawn. Everyone keeps peeking glances at you like you’re broken, like after your mother died but worse.

Infinitely worse, because Buffy and Dawn are your responsibility. You’re the oldest. You’re meant to protect them, to shield them. But all you’ve ever done is watch as your sister saved the world. And now even that has been taken from you.

You keep busy. You can only take so many days off work, trade so many shifts. Soon you have to go back and Dawn has to go to school, unless you want her to be taken from you, too.

Spike watches her for you while you’re at the diner. You’ve shortened your hours so you can sometimes be there with her before she goes to bed, but you’ve still got bills to pay. And you can’t bring up downsizing like you once meant to. Not when the house is the last thing linking the formerly whole Summers family together.

Willow does her best to play therapist, considering how you can’t go to a real one. First of all, they’d probably commit you for telling them your story. Second, you don’t have the strength to let anyone else in. Expanding your world to include more people only means that you have more of them to lose.

You made some mistakes in the first few weeks. You’re not proud of them by any means, but you’re doing your best to own them.

The worst one involved Spike.

One night (or, rather, morning) after your shift was over, you had come home and showered. As usual, you cried for as long as you could justify letting the water run. Then you stepped out and wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel that you almost dropped when you saw him waiting in your room.

“I think we need to have a chat, Summers.”

He patted the bed next to him, just like he had when he tagged along for the first time to your diner shift all those months ago. The gesture made you want to cry again.

“Let me get dressed,” you mumbled. You rummaged through your dresser for a tank top and sweatpants, the only types of clothing besides your uniform that you had been using since the funeral. Then you locked yourself in the bathroom.

You strongly considered crawling out the window, but you were too loud when you tried to pry it open and Spike rapped loudly on the door.

“Don’t even try it, love.”

Resigned, you came out to sprawl on your bed and wait for the lecture.

Spike started in as usual by saying that you weren’t taking care of yourself. Once again, you reminded him that you were a perfectly capable adult who was keeping an entire household running and that you didn’t need him or anyone else questioning you.

���I know you’re capable, that’s not the point—”

“Then what is the point? What right do you have—”

“I’ve been right here beside you the whole time! I’m allowed to have some input—”

“I’m sorry, is your name Spike Summers? No? Then get off my ass about—”

You could see in his eyes that he wanted to shake some sense into you. He thought you were the one being obtuse. But all you were doing, all you had ever tried to do, was to hold everything together.

“Summers,” he growled. The two of you had been inching closer together during your heated argument, your voices raised dangerously, considering Dawn was still asleep. For a moment, you saw a flicker of his other face. Even knowing he wouldn’t hurt you, you gulped. “Stop being so bloody thick about everything. You’re working yourself to death, and who’s going to be here for Dawn if you’re carted off to the hospital?”

Normally, this was the point where the tears would flow against your will, but you only felt frustrated. Then Spike tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and it boiled over.

“Let me take care of you,” he said, and you still don’t know why you did what you did next. Maybe you wanted to push him away like you had been doing with everyone else. Maybe you wanted a distraction. Or maybe you just wanted him.

You kissed him.

It was an automatic reaction, but if you had to guess, you’d say it was probably because you needed to show him that you were fine at taking care of yourself. You were still an independent agent, making your own decisions, however poor they might be. But you didn’t think that was the message he got at all, because it turned needy real quick.

His hand came to the back of your head as he wove his fingers through your hair in a tender gesture, but you didn’t want tender. You wanted the pain to be blocked out. You tried to seal yourself to him, pulling yourself into his lap. You ran your nails over his jaw, his neck, and then his chest, clawing at his shirt. He lifted it halfway, enough for you to see the defined abs that waited beneath, before he pulled away abruptly and dumped you onto the bed.

“We can’t,” he said, panting. “You’re grieving.”

“I’m fine.”

You crawled over to him and slipped off the edge of the bed to press him against the wall, but he held you back.

“You’re sick. It would be taking advantage.”

He knew before the words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say.

Your eyes widened and you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, suddenly wanting every trace of him off you. You stepped toward the door backwards, almost tripping over your backpack.

“No, my mom was sick,” you said with your hand on the knob. Then, whipping back around, your face contorted like a Fury: “You’re sick, you know that? You chase after me for months, following me to work, to school, telling me you don’t want to see me hurt myself. You hold me while I’m sleeping and touch me when you think no one’s watching and joke in front of the others about how you’d like to see me naked and then I give you the chance to and what? Has mourning made me so awful to you?”

Spike couldn’t have been more shocked if you slapped him. He kept waiting for your knees to buckle, for you to break down, but you never did. Not in front of the others, not in front of him. Anyone would think you were the goddamn Energizer Bunny, if not for how exhausted you looked.

“Love—”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you said. “If you aren’t willing to ‘take advantage,’ I’ll find someone who is.”

You didn’t slam the door. Even now, you were mindful of Dawn, of how early it was. Instead, you grabbed your keys from the kitchen countertop and made it as far as the front porch before you folded in on yourself.

Not now, you pleaded, praying to a God you weren’t sure existed. Please, let me get somewhere else first.

But you couldn’t move. You kept seeing Buffy fall over and over again, tearing through the inter-dimensional portal like a silk screen, hitting the concrete hard.

You couldn’t breathe.

It was like you could see her and Dawn up top, before Buffy dived down like some kind of fucking Olympic swimmer. You had been on the ground with the others, but you could see them in that moment. Buffy taking Dawn’s face in her hands as she cried. Playing the hero. Telling your sister how she had to do this and to remember how much she loved you both.

You didn’t see or hear Spike come out on the patio or notice when he pried the keys from your hands. You were too busy sobbing silently to the point where he was worried you might pass out.

“It should have been me,” you said, not to him or yourself, but to whatever God had taken Buffy. Glory, maybe. Someone with more power than you. “I’m the oldest. I should have been there. Bring her back and take me.”

“She was the Slayer,” Spike said softly. He didn’t touch you, just sat a fair distance away and ached. “It had to be her.”

In your crazed state, you thought God was talking back, and he happened to have a British accent. You tried to reason with him.

“No, it wasn’t about that. It was about Summers blood. It could have been me, if I had gotten there in time. If—”

“You wouldn’t have made it up the steps past Glory, past the demon. You didn’t have a chance.”

“But it should have been me!” The words came out as more of a wheeze than anything else. You weren’t taking in enough oxygen to support your crying jag. “I should have been the Slayer. I’m the oldest. Why did you choose her? Was I not strong enough?”

You couldn’t open your eyes fully through all the tears. They swam in front of your vision like you were underwater, turning your car into a coral reef, the grass of the front yard into seaweed.

“Or if I couldn’t be the Slayer or the Key, then I should have been the one to jump. You know it’s true,” you pleaded. “Summers blood. It’s all the same.”

But it wasn’t. Because whatever blood was in Dawn and Buffy contained courage.

Spike didn’t know who you thought you were talking to, but he was worried you were going to knock yourself out on the steps and split your head open, with the way you were wavering back and forth, leaning forward to weep and then throwing your head back to ask why, why, why it hadn’t been you.

Finally, he had to restrain you, scooping you up into his lap and holding you tight to keep you from getting any ideas about taking a dive of your own off the porch. At first, you fought against him, thrashing like a wildcat, but you were too tired to keep it up for long.

“Why not me?” you asked him again. Your voice was muffled against his chest, but he heard you loud and clear. How could he not?

“Because you’re needed here. You’re the only thing keeping everyone sane, lo—” He cut himself off, barely remembering how much the word had upset you earlier. “You protected Buffy as best you could your whole life. And now you need to be here for Dawn.”

“No,” you said, wrestling out of his grip enough to face him. “I mean, why don’t you want me?”

Your eyes were swollen and you had just gotten snot all over his shirt, but in that moment he was so grateful that you were alive that his heart would’ve skipped a beat if it could have. He pulled you close and kissed your forehead, breathing in the smell of your shampoo, reminding himself that you were flesh and blood right before him. You were still here.

“Any other time, sweetheart, it would’ve been you,” he whispered against your cheek. You were going slack in his arms, relaxing like a kitten, unable to keep yourself upright and rigid when you were so completely spent. He could taste your tears. “I always want you. But not like this.”

“What do you—hic—mean?”

This was alright. You were a little out of it still, but you were coherent, and you weren’t trying to hurt yourself anymore. Spike resisted the urge to pull you closer, to feel your heart beat against his chest like it was his own, just to confirm you were here, solid, breathing.

“I want you when I can tell it’s real. That you don’t need someone to take your pain away and that’s it, even though I’d strip right now, right here on the porch, if I thought it would help.”

Spike thought he might get a laugh out of you there, but your eyes were unfocused. Frightening. He lifted you up like you weighed nothing, which wasn’t far from the truth now that you’d all but stopped eating, and carried you back into the house and up the stairs to your bedroom.

“I want you so much it hurts,” he promised you as he peeled back the covers to tuck you in. “Like when I’m starving for blood and there’s no one around.”

He checked your face quickly, thinking his metaphor might’ve been less-than-helpful, but when it remained blank he continued.

“I need you. That means I have to do what’s best for you, and right now that’s not sex.”

He started across the room, but you called out.

“Spike?” You sounded uncertain, fragile. “Will you stay with me? Not for... not for sex.”

“Of course I will, lo— Summers.”

He shed his t-shirt and slipped into the fuzzy bottoms you’d gotten him a few months ago, when things were not quite good but getting back to normal, and cradled you.

He gave it a couple minutes before he tried again. “Summers, you know, if you do want sex in the future and you’re not on the verge of a breakdown, I’m your guy.”

But you were already asleep.

[dearlazerbunny]

Can I have Kylo for fluff alphabet please? Thank you!

All of them?! I mean if you ~insist~

(Alphabet prompt here)

Kylo x Reader Fluff ABCs 💜

Activities: Free time is scarce, so he’ll mostly visit you at night when the two of you can curl up in bed, watch the stars, and talk about anything and everything. Technically it’s always night in space, but when he’s with you the black seems to dim a little, and the stars shine brighter. It’s the best sort of night, the ones that make you think there are as many possibilities as there are planets in the sky.

Beauty: Kylo LOVES your smile. You smile so easily, whereas he can count on one hand the number of times he’s smiled in the pas year- each time because of you. And he still has to remind himself how to breathe anytime he makes you smile.

Comfort: He’s excellent at holding you close and just letting you cry it out, running his fingers through your hair, and keeping his lips pressed to the top of your head so you know he’s there. Sometimes he’ll tell stories- the same ones his mother told him, about adventures in space and good defeating evil and how hope makes the universe turn. He doesn’t know if he believes in those old stories anymore- but he knows you do.

Dreams: Somewhere quiet, somewhere far away from any war or light side and dark side and Jedis and metal monstrosities that destroy planets on a whim. It’d be a simple house- maybe in a forest, set away from a tiny village- with just enough space for the two of you and maybe... maybe a child. The three of you would lie in the tall grass- a little boy or girl tugging on his mother’s clothes and giggling at the feeling of the dirt beneath his feet- and tell new stories. Because now he doesn’t need those old stories telling him about light and hope- he has his own, sitting right in front of him.

Equal: Kylo is not used to someone standing up to him and calling him on his bullshit. Kylo cannot remember the last time someone called him “Ky” without having a rather vicious meeting with the glowing end of his lightsaber. Kylo definitely isn’t used to someone being in his personal space- a touch on his arm, holding hands, a leg wrapped around his when the two of you are in bed. He might a six-foot-something menace in all black and a scary sword, but you have an infinite amount of little ways of telling him that he is not the boss of you. Period.

Fight: Fighting is loud- there’s a good amount of yelling and stomping around. Most of it stems from insecurities: he can’t get it out of his head that you aren’t going to drop him on a whim someday when you realize how broken he is; you hate that he’s constantly diving headfirst into a war where you can’t do anything to protect him. One night, after a particularly horrible bout, you voice the idea that the insecurities get smaller when the trust gets bigger. So now, any argument, big or small, is only over when the two of you can look at each other and honestly say, “I trust you.”

Gratitude: He knows you’re doing... something, but he doesn’t really realize how much until one day he’s sitting with you, your fingers intertwined, laughing at something ridiculously stupid and only funny to the two of you, and he’s looking at you and how your eyes sparkle when you laugh and he notices he hasn’t heard any of the voices in his head since you started giggling. He’ll tell you later- he wants to hear your laugh for just a little bit longer.

Honesty: Kylo definitely keeps secrets- mostly his fears. He’s scared you’ll leave him, that one day you’ll walk away and won’t come back. He wants a future with you- not just a future, but an endgame- and every day it seems less and less likely. He worries he isn’t what you deserve. He’s scared he’ll hurt you accidentally; he’s terrified he’ll hurt you intentionally. He’s never told you any of this, but the funny thing is- you kind of already know.

Inspiration: You’ve changed him for the better, and keep doing so every day. Much like the realization from Gratitude, he won’t quite know the extent of it until one day it smacks him in the face and he finally thinks, oh.

Jealousy: Yes, and it’s something the two of you have to work on. Constantly. To his credit, he went from hunting down one of your work friends in the middle of the night after he gave you a hug in the mess hall to (occasionally) haltingly and frustratingly voicing his feelings. It’s progress, and you’re willing to stick by him for however long it takes.

Kiss: Your first kiss was incredibly tentative, soft, and barely there. You weren’t quite sure it even had happened, except Kylo’s look of absolute shock clued you in that it very much did. Then about five seconds later you realized that was probably Kylo’s first kiss. Ever. He doesn’t really get it at first- he’s stiff and awkward and at one point frustratingly blurted out ‘but what do I do with my hands.’ He’s much better now. Practice makes perfect after all, and let’s be real, kissing this man is a hardship you are more than willing to bear.

Love Confession: He wanders into your room one night, antsy and agitated and very thrown off by... something. You don’t know what, because he refuses to tell you- just paces your room clenching and unclenching his fists while you desperately try to figure out what’s wrong. Eventually, he faces you, bewildered, looks you dead in the eye, and says I love you- which spirals you into a cacophony of relief, giddiness, happiness, and laughter all in about five second’s time. While he’s looking put out from you laughing at him, you kiss him on the lips once... twice... and say, I know.

Marriage: He thinks he’d like to marry you someday. It’d be simple- you’d carry a bouquet of wildflowers, maybe with some braided in your hair as well. The rings would both be a beautiful smoky grey, and yours has a small piece of his kyber crystal set in the center. He doesn’t know who would be there... Hux? The two of you are friends. The people you work with... well, they don’t know about you. He knows it’s impossible, but he always pictures his mother there too, to give you away.

Nicknames: Kylo isn’t really one for nicknames. You call him Ky, love, babe when you want to get a rise out of him- but every so often, in the dead of night, when you’re half asleep and not quite sure if you’re dreaming it, he’ll pull you close and whisper my queen before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

On Cloud Nine: Nobody knows. Not a single soul. Have you seen that man’s poker face? Hux and Phasma can guess something is up, but that something being ‘Kylo Ren in love’ is so far out of the realm of possibility that it doesn’t even make the top 101 Things That Might Be Going On With Ren. You think it’s hilarious, and also kind of sweet- he saves that side of himself for you and you only.

PDA: See the above. PDA is not a thing with him, for a multitude of reasons: he has an image to maintain, he doesn't want you to get hurt if potentially being used against him, he simply doesn’t know how to initiate such things. You respect his want for privacy- you don’t want to be rumor mill fodder either. But on the very few occasions you find yourselves out and alone together, you’ll give him a peck on the mask where his cheek would be. That’s enough for you.

Quirk: I don’t know if the Force counts as a quirk, but it definitely makes you laugh when he decides to do stupid party tricks in an effort to cheer you up (think Aang and his marble trick in A:TLA 😂). In the back of your mind, you can’t help but imagine him doing the same innocent magic tricks to the delight of your son or daughter someday.

Romantic: He’s romantic while having no sense of traditional romance. If you mention a favorite flower, there’ll be a vase of them in your room the next day. When you tease him for doing something sweet, he just looks baffled. “You said you liked these. So I procured some. You’re welcome?” The fact that he doesn’t get how much his gestures actually mean makes them that much sweeter.

Support: Kylo thinks you could probably end this whole war single-handed if they plopped you down in the middle of the battlefield. Not that he’d ever test that theory. But if someone has the capability of making him start thinking of things like a future, they have more power in their fist than he does with the entirety of the Force.

Thrill: Considering this is all still fairly new to Kylo, even something like kissing the back of his hand sends him into shutdown mode for a second or two. You’re taking it slow. It took him a whole two months to even get used to the idea of holding hands on the regular.

Understanding: Kylo worries this is an area he’s lacking in. What he doesn’t know is that he instinctively knows when you need a hug, picks up on your moods before you even know what that mood is, and often knows what you’re thinking before you say it. He doesn’t think highly enough of himself to say that he knows someone as wonderful as you so intimately, but the truth is he’s pretty much got you on lock.

Value: You are everything. If he knew there would be no repercussions, and you’d be safe, he would drop everything and move to that little house in the forest with you, War, Skywalkers, and Snoke be damned. At some point, he stopped fighting this war to rid himself of his past and started fighting it so that you and he might have a future.

Wild Card: You have a tendency to pull hair whenever you get really frustrated, so Kylo offered to let you play with his instead- obviously, you are infinitely more careful with him than you are yourself. This eventually morphed into you being able to craft Disney-princess-worthy braids and updos with his hair. Sometimes he’ll let you tuck a flower in it if he really wants to see you laugh.

XOXO: This poor man is touch s t a r v e d. The second you start being physically affectionate with him, he never wants you to stop- laying by his side, holding your hand, playing with his hair, wrapping himself around you. Not that anyone outside of the two of you would have any idea.

Yearning: You aren’t a Force user, but you’re connected to the point where when he’s away on a mission, he can send you a thought or a feeling to let you know he’s thinking of you. More than once you’ve felt the slight sensation of his fingers on your cheek or him walking beside you, even though he’s lightyears away.

Zeal: if you and Luke Skywalker were standing side by side, and he could only reach one of you, he’d grab you by the hand, start running, and never let go.

[theredhairedmonkey]

Why does Callum end up using Dark Magic? Was it to save the dragon or save Rayla?

He does Dark Magic to save both the dragon and Rayla in equal measure, with the added bonus that he also does it to shore up his own insecurities.

I’m a sucker for plotlines where a morally upright character does something ethically wrong, and as you can imagine, I think there’s a lot to unpack in this one decision. So, let’s dive into each of these reasons.

1. For the dragon

Once Rayla connects saving the dragon to the “cycle of violence” speech he gave her in S1, Callum agrees with her.

Callum: “You’re right. If we’re really going to change things, we can’t just watch while humans and Xadia keep hurting each other.”

Rayla tells him that, to break the cycle someone has to take a stand. Once he sees the connection between what he told her and what she’s telling him now, he agrees that leaving the dragon behind is wrong.

Callum has always been the kind of character who prioritizes doing the right thing. Rayla noticed that right away:

Rayla: “When we met, he could have had me captured or killed. But he didn’t, because without knowing me or anything about me, he saw past human hatred and did what he knew was right.”

Even before meeting Rayla in 1x02, Callum argues with his stepfather about the coming assassins.

When Harrow describes how there have been wrongs and crimes done on both sides, and that Harrow is responsible for terrible things, Callum doesn’t try to disagree. He doesn’t attempt to justify his stepfather’s actions or try to remain loyal to his side of the conflict. Instead, he says:

This scene helps highlight Callum’s naivete (“You’re the king, you can do anything”) but also his good-naturedness. He’s not taking sides in the conflict or dismisses the hurt that his own kingdom (heck, his own family) had caused Xadia. He understands that some of the people in his life, the ones he cares about the most, have wronged the side sending assassins to kill Harrow. A wrong had been committed, and Callum wants to set it right.

Indeed, after discovering the egg, Callum let what he hoped was the right thing guide his actions. He chained up Claudia to prevent her from attacking Rayla. Callum then confronted Runaan, letting him train an arrow at his head as he had Ez show him the egg.

He then confronted and even threatened Viren, putting himself in the crosshairs of yet another powerful figure (someone Amaya believes “may be the most dangerous human in the world”) while trying set things right.

He risks great personal injury (and perhaps worse!) in doing the right thing.

When all else fails, he’s the one who proposes the group take the egg to Xadia themselves, leaving behind their homes, family, and friends to set things right themselves.

Callum: “It’s up to us now. We have to return this egg. We have to keep it safe and carry it to Xadia.”

And when he needs to, he sacrifices his newfound power to save the Dragon Prince.

All of this helps lay out how Callum prioritizes doing the right thing over almost everything, even what was, at the time, his only source of self-worth. As Rayla says:

“He sacrificed everything so Azymondias could be born.” 

When Rayla helps him realize why saving the dragon was the right thing to do, it frustrated him to no end that he felt he couldn’t help, even before knowing Rayla was going down there regardless.

But once he realizes that there is a way he can help.

He immediately bolts for the dragon. After taking Claudia’s spellbook, he looks through it to find the spell that would set dragon free, and then does it.

Callum does the right thing…despite knowing that the way he did it was wrong. And it’s precisely this motivation that Dark!Callum exploits to tempt him to continue using Dark Magic:

Dark!Callum: “You can have unlimited power, and you can choose what to do with that power. You can make a real difference in the world. All you need to do now is accept it.”

And it’s not until Dark!Callum says this that Callum is even remotely tempted.

And once he is tempted, it takes quite an epiphany for him to shake that temptation.

2. For Rayla

@raayllum lays out here how much concern Callum has about Rayla in this scene. But, it can be summed up with this line:

Rayla: “If I don’t come back, you and Ezran can get Zym to Xadia. I believe in you”

In general, Callum will go to extreme lengths to protect those he cares about. He wants to join the expedition against the incredibly dangerous assassins to protect his stepfather. Callum wants to dive after Ezran in freezing cold water, or will pretend to be him to throw an assassin off his trail. He’ll leap off a cliff and master a rare ability on the way down to save the love of his life.

In 2x07, when Callum hears Rayla say, “If I don’t come back,” he’s sent into a panic. He’s lost almost everyone he cares about in his life, and Callum is faced with the very real possibility that he’ll lose her too.

For this and other reasons (more on that below), we see him drawing Rayla. To give himself comfort that she will come back, but also upset that she may not.

So, it’s no wonder, knowing what we know about Callum, that he’s willing to take extreme measures to protect/save her too.

But that still leaves one final reason why he casts that Dark Magic spell…

3. For himself

Callum is his own harshest critic—while he has a good grasp on what the right thing to do is, he regularly questions his ability to do anything at all.

And these doubts are severe, enough to paralyze him or send him off the rails several times.

When he’s prevented from joining Soren’s mission to protect Harrow, Callum blows up at Ezran.

When he drives Rayla away and feels he is unable to save her from her own guilt, he gets angry at himself.

And here too, while Rayla goes off to save the dragon and Callum has been benched, he’s left fuming until breaking his charcoal pen sets him off.

Callum is not the kind of person who gets easily angered, but when he does, it’s almost always because he thinks he’s too helpless to change anything.

His drawings of Rayla help highlight something else besides how much he’s grown to care about her—he has her posing heroically as she leaps into danger because, deep down, Callum wishes he could be that heroic too.

It’s for this reason that he’s so hard on himself. Callum is a capable guy; his artistic talents and photographic memory are amazing. He’s able to improvise and plan rather well, is a good listener, and has an emotional maturity that surpasses many adults.

But in Callum’s mind, none of these things really matter because it wouldn’t help him, in his words:

“Be the heroes who stop all the fighting and save the day.”

As a result, he has a very skewed perception of himself—someone who is utterly useless, who isn’t brave or strong enough to make a difference.

In many ways, this reason is an extension of the first one—Callum is insecure because he knows what the right thing to do is, he just feels he’s too inadequate to do that.

And that pushed him to try Dark Magic. Without a Primal Stone or an Arcanum, Dark Magic was the easy way around all these roadblocks—it lets him do something he was great at (magic) without having to work at (and potentially failing toward) connecting to the Sky Primal.

Dark Magic makes him feel powerful. It makes him feel useful. It makes him feel like he can be a hero.

But it also feels wrong.

So, all three of these motivations are at play here—Callum’s desire to do the right thing, his desire to save Rayla, and his desire to be useful (which in a way is an extension of the first desire).

If you wanted to pick out one of these motivations as the primary reason, it would have to be Callum’s desire to do the right thing (i.e. “to make a real difference in the world.”). Callum is a good-natured kid; he really wants to make things right, and the gap between what he wants to do and what he thinks he can do is where his insecurities come from.

Callum is not tempted to try Dark Magic before because he understands, at least in theory, that it’s wrong. But the above reasons create a moment of weakness where he gives in and decides to use it.

But thankfully, there’s hope that the same thing that turned Callum to use Dark Magic is the same thing that would push him away from it. According to an interview here, Aaron Ehasz says the following about this moment:

“I think that, sometimes, the hero goes into the abyss before they can come out of it. I think he explored something dark, explored something that maybe he wouldn’t feel good about, but he may understand more clearly what he does now and what he’s accomplished having experienced the depths of a different kind of choice. So, I think it’s more about his character and the range of understanding he has. I do think you can’t mess with something like that and not have it stick with you. There’s something about it that will stay with him.”

My takeaway from these lines is that Callum, having tried Dark Magic once, realizes now better than most people why it’s so wrong. Much like how in other great stories (think Luke Skywalker using the Dark Side against Vader), Callum succumbs to his worst impulses and makes a devastating, almost fatal, decision.

But in crossing the line, he comes out the other side knowing just what his worst impulses are. He learns from his mistake, accepts that what he did was wrong, and grows beyond it. He now knows full well where he stands and knowing where he’ll go from here.

Callum: “Destiny is a book you write yourself!”

[evabellasworld]

I Give You My Heart

Chapter 11

AO3 Link | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

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Summary:  When Riyo Chuchi’s life was threatened, Commander Fox and Jedi Knight Ava Lira and Eva Bella Young are assigned to bring the senator back to her home planet Pantora, where she will be safe from harm. But when the assassin knows her whereabouts, it’s up to Fox, Lira, Eva, and Riyo to work together and stop the assassin.

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Kicking the grille with both her feet, Eva landed in an empty corridor, which was lit in red lights. With her surgical face mask on to shield her from smoke, she placed her soggy palms on the hilt of her lightsaber as she tiptoed like a mouse, hoping not to scare off the assassin.

She could sense his presence surrounding her, but it would only be a matter of time before he revealed himself. This wasn’t the first time that she had to deal with a bounty hunter, and unlike her last encounter, Eva discovered their tactics through her readings in the library.

Assassins are proficient in stealth, as they often use various skills to take a life within a flash, without getting caught. One of their prowess is their speed. Having the capability to dash like Hermes is the most important way for an assassin to dodge from the crime scene they have created. If they’re not swift enough, then their whole operation will crumble like an anthill. If they succeed, however, then they get paid, big time.

Another important technique that an assassin has to master is their method of killing. Some assassins rely on their trusty sniper rifle to slay their victims. It is the fastest method, according to Eva, but they needed to have a good aim since they had only one shot. If they aimed crudely, they would be exposed. There are also assassins who are more subtle, which is much more deadly than the first one.

This certain type of assassin would utilise their charisma and wits to lure their prey into a trap. They can blend in perfectly well with the crowd. For all Eva sees, the assassin could be her neighbours, a friend, or even a sweet old lady who smiled at you in the hoverbus. Eva’s arms trembled whenever she had to head to the city to run some errands.

The world is a treacherous place and not everyone has good intentions, especially people like the Trade Federation, who piled up a pot of gold from both sides of the war just for the sake of profit. For some reason, Eva speculated how they aren’t arrested by the Galactic Republic, even when there was solid proof. Somehow, they faced no form of repercussions.

Eva rubbed the back of her neck as she passed by a sealed door, which stored cleaning equipment for the janitors to use. She smirked to herself, figuring out he was inside and was waiting for her to turn the other way so that he could escape within a flash.

The third skill that an assassin requires is finding a good spot to kill. It can be anywhere, from the corner of an abandoned building to the cramped ventilation pipes. The location must be a blind spot for passers-by and potent in carrying out their job. A wide-open space wouldn't work out since it would be easier for the authorities to catch them.

It's tempting for Eva to just burst open the door and corner him, but that would mean the assassin would pounce on her and escape easily. No, that's not what Commander Fox wanted. He wishes that the assassin be caught and brought to justice for attempting to murder a senator, assault, and destruction of public property.

“Guess I’ll check the reactor,” she purposely spoke in a loud volume, hoping the assassin would hear. “It’s a good hiding spot for our killer.”

As she took a few steps forward, the storage door beside her hissed opened, making Eva turn around and dived towards the assassin, crushing his neck. “I got you,” she exclaimed, restricting his airflow.

The assassin threw her off and got up, but Eva held him with the Force. "You're not going anywhere, you fuckface."

“You have a potty mouth for a child your age,” he gleamed. “Also, are the Republic out of Jedi?”

“I may be a kid but I'm smarter than you,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes.

“Isn't that obvious? I mean, you seem to know a lot about us assassins. Very impressive.”

“All you have to do is to study how your mind works. It's that simple.”

“Oh, I'm not doing this for the money,” he retorted, shaking his head. “In fact, I'm not even here to get paid by my client.”

Eva furrowed her eyebrows. “That's just bullcrap. What kind of assassin would kill Senator Chuchi just to not get paid by their client? Doesn’t she have a really high price on her head? Why go through all the hard work just to not reap the reward in the end?”

“Kid, you don't understand. In your mind, you think that Senator Chuchi is someone who could never do wrong in her life but you're wrong. She's not all angelic and pure. She's a politician. Politicians are not all good and bad. They lie, they cheat, they steal. That's what they do, no matter how good their intentions are. Seems harsh, kid, but hey, that's life for you.”

She tightened her lips as she stared at the ground. He has a good point. Even if a senator wants to do good for the people, they would have to resort to dishonesty if they were left with no other choice. Padmé used her as access to head to Raxus Prime so that she could make peace between the Republic and the Separatists, and Eva ended up in a heap of trouble because of that.

Heck, even the Chancellor took advantage of the assassination plot against Senator Amidala to declare war against the Separatist and stayed in the Senate, even though his term was supposed to end earlier. Eva knows that Riyo treated Lira with kindness, such as wiping the blood off her nose and soothing her from a headache, but she isn’t really sure how deceptive Riyo can be, especially when she genuinely smiled at them.

“You’re wrong about Senator Chuchi,” Eva denied. “She would never steal from the people. She was outspoken towards injustices in the Senate.”

“Is she, though?” the assassin raised a question. “If she cared so much about us common folks, then why are they suffering more and more? Why are people forcing themselves to starve just to pay their medical bills? Why are people being forced out of their homes? And most importantly, why are there still orphans roaming around the streets, begging for food? Can you answer that, kid?”

She can’t. To be fair, she hardly knows a thing or two about politics, except that the Republic are the good guys while the Separatists are the bad guys. And yet, when Eva was in Raxus Prime with Padmé, she met Lux Bonteri, who was the son of the late Senator Mina Bonteri. Surprisingly, Mina welcomed both of them with open arms and was willing to answer her questions on the droid army with patience.

Lux, on the other hand, made her realize that not everything was black and white. She remembered when they had a long discussion as they were walking side-by-side. From what she remembered, he asked her whether she met any Separatist leaders, to which she could only answer none of his questions since Grievous and Ventress don't count at all. She learned that people in Lux's school thought of the Jedi as the ones who started the war, which made her aware of their perspectives of the Jedi, which she and Lira were so devoted to their rules throughout their lives.

She didn't choose to be in the war or to be trained by the Jedi Council. All Eva wanted was to play with her toys, dance to ballet, join theatres, or even perform her own tricks in gymnastics. That's all she has ever dreamed of. She recalled the time when she used to sing 'O Holy Night' when she was around seven years old during Life Day. She wore a red dress and red shoes while she was singing that song. It was one of the happiest memories she ever had.

“Eva,” she heard her sister reach her comm. “Are you there?”

Eva blinked twice, only to be punched on the nose by the masked figure. “Sorry, kid, but I have things to take care of,” he sighed, as he sprinted past her.

“You're not going anywhere,” she growled, as she ignited her lightsaber and spun towards him, but he grabbed his blaster from his holster and pulled the trigger, hitting her left shoulder.

She didn't have time to deflect the blast, so she ended up lying on the floor, moaning in pain. She could feel the wound stinging on her shoulder as her saber was not in her grasp anymore. "You son of a bitch," Eva cursed, holding back her tears.

“See you soon, kiddo,” he gave her a small salute as he disappeared from her sigh, much to her frustration. Letting her tears flow down her cheeks, her nose sniffled as her arms trembled. How am I going to explain this to Commander Fox and Lira?

[fablesrose]

Of Kings and Shadows XXII

Description: Y/n, a girl who seems to have found her calling. Being a SHIELD agent is like a dream come true. With a friendship starting to form with the Avengers, she’s the Queen of the world! What could go wrong?

Pairings: Avengers x reader, Loki x reader (eventually)

Notes: On Wattpad –> Here

Masterlist

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

Usually, the team goes to Nick for missions and debriefs. This time, however, Nick came to the compound.

Thor and Bruce looked sympathetically at the four sporting bruises and holding ice packs to black eyes. Thor and Bruce didn't go into the compound and Loki was a bit more durable and healed faster than the others. One thing that everyone had in common that went on that mission was the shock.

The twins, Rhodey, Vision, Sam, and Bucky had all gotten the day off. It was kind of cruel irony, the ones who knew her, laughed with her, got to discover her previously unknown fate.

"And you're sure about this?" Nick sat at the front of the room trying to wrap his head around what they had told him.

The five all voiced their own "yes."

"You're positive?"

"Unless Y/n has a twin sister that looks exactly like her that you don't know about, then yeah, pretty positive." Tony gingerly reapplied his ice pack to the back of his skull where his head hits his helmet. "Friday, throw up the footage."

A screen opened up to show what was recorded from Tony's helmet. The feed was fast-forwarded to where Y/n walked into view amid the Hydra agents. Once her full face was shown the footage stopped and zoomed in close.

"Unless I'm mistaken,  I believe Y/n's eyes are very much black."

"Right you are my favorite android." Tony waved his finger haphazardly at Vision across the table.

Nick sat down and swiveled his chair to face the screen, "It looks like we found our missing Queen."

"Are we sure it's even her?" Sam looked apologetic for even suggesting such a thing, but skeptical all the same, "Could she be some sort of evil twin or somethin'?" Everyone couldn't help but flick their eyes to Wanda and Pietro at the mention of twins.

"No, Sam, it's her," Nick was looking at the screen.

"How can you tell?"

"There are stretch marks on her neck. Those are extremely hard to mimic and are in an unusual place."

Everyone was a bit freaked out.

Tony was squinting at the screen, "How can you even see that?"

Nick didn't answer so Tony looked to Natasha for an answer since she knew everything, but she didn't even acknowledge him.

Pietro looked more puzzled than the others, "Why would she have stretch marks on her neck?"

"Hey, Loki," Clint had a barely noticeable smirk on his face, "why don't you explain."

"That is a long story that does not need to be explained at the moment."

Bruce started the video again and watched it play through for a couple of minutes, studying Y/n's face. "There isn't even a hint of recognition in her face," he turned to look at the others in the room, "what could they have done to her?"

Rhodey started counting on his fingers, "She's been missing for what? Six years?"

Vision finished for him, "And The Queen has surfaced a little under four years ago."

"She must have seen many horrors in those two years." Thor looked solemn, not wanting to look at the screen.

"Good to see you can do basic math, brother." Loki tried to sneer, but it turned more into a wince than anything.

Thor sent a half-hearted glare back at him.

"They must be doing something a lot harder and faster to cut down the time table that quickly from when I was in there." Bucky swallowed while he had his eyes locked on the table.

Steve had a hand on Bucky's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze to show that he was safe there. Bucky nodded back at him to show he appreciated it.

"Maybe she's weak." Pietro was snapping his gum rather loudly but soon started to shrink back into his seat when he felt the glares.

"Or she could have gone with them willingly." Everyone froze as they looked over at Wanda. At first, she didn't notice the stares, but her magic tapped into the overall vibe of the room and she became a little uneasy.

"I would watch what you say about Ms. Y/n, Wanda." Vision had a look of warning when he looked at her, but she could tell that he wasn't excluding himself from it. "She is well respected not only by the people in this room but many outside of it as well."

Wanda's eyes wandered to see what exactly Vision was talking about. She noticed that Bruce had hints of green peeking out of his shirt collar. Loki had wisps and sparks of green winding around his fingers. Everyone else had twitching fingers or were flexing their jaws, struggling to stay calm. Or in Natasha's case, she was deadly still. What really drew her attention was everyone's hair sticking up at the static electricity. The source of which was the glow from Thor's eyes and the lines of lightning running up and down the space in between his fingers.

She mumbled out an apology and tucked her head down, not speaking a word more.

Steve was the first to speak again as he turned to face Nick, "How do you want to proceed, Fury?"

Nick sighed and leaned forward, templing his hands on the table. "We continue on missions as usual, but I want to adjust one thing on the teams. I want Loki on all the missions from now on." Nick focused on Loki, "You can get a break once we catch her. I want you to focus on getting in her head, try to communicate with her, find a weakness so we can take her down, anything."

"I can do that Fury," Wanda carefully peeked at him, tilting her head towards him.

"I know Wanda, but I still want Loki to supervise even when you're there. He has a lot more practice than you." He turned his attention to everyone else in the room, "She's an asset, and I would prefer if she was undamaged."

'Any more than she already is.'

Wanda read the thought from someone's head, but as everyone stood to leave, the commotion caused her to lose the link with whose ever mind she was reading before she could identify exactly who it was.  

Wanda didn't enjoy invading people's privacy by reading their minds... That was a lie. She knew she wasn't supposed to enjoy invading privacy, at least, that's what they keep telling her every time she lets it slip that she's doing it. Honestly, she didn't really see a reason not to, if they can't tell she's doing it, why bother to stop. (If only she could keep her mouth shut.)

She asked Loki once if he was reading everyone's minds since she knew he was more than capable of doing so. He told her, no, his reason being "Why would you do that when there other ways of obtaining information that are far more fun."

She didn't ask what those were.

Wanda only tried to read his mind once but it was heavily shielded. She couldn't get past them and the look he gave her and the gleam in his eye made her not want to know what was in his head.

The team rarely, if ever, talked about Y/n as a group. As stated before they would talk about her more in pairs on a particularly hard day.

Wanda didn't know much about her, but with this new revelation coming to light there was no way she was going to leave anything in the dark.  The Avengers were growing soft and sentimental. Wanda didn't have any biases about this chick and if no one was going to tell her about her, well, Wanda was just going to have to play a little dirty.

She wandered through the compound, drifting just close enough to rooms where members of the team resided to be able to skim their thoughts and memories.

The more she drifted, the more frustrated she got. Wanda wasn't sure what she was expecting, some dirty little secret or maybe, hopefully, some sort of weakness. Instead, all she was getting was waves of sadness, confusion, and fond memories. There was no useful information in everything she skimmed through, just inconsequential things, like what she would have wanted her superpower to be, surprise surprise, she didn't get anywhere close, or that she had impressive karaoke skills.

Wanda's frustration caused her to not be so subtle in her investigating and she began to dive deeper into the minds of those around her. She finally made her way around to Bucky's room and instantly dove into his mind to see what the scoop was from him.

She regretted it quickly.

Bucky was trying to figure out what exactly they could have done to Y/n in the space of two years to have that much control over her. In order to do that he had to go over what exactly they did to him. Bucky lasted for nearly twenty years before breaking. He thought over all the types of torture and brainwashing they put him through, not without a flinch or two. What in the world could they have done to this agent that he hadn't even met, to make her not have a shred of recognition in the span of two years?

Pietro's comment did cross his mind a time or two, 'What if she's weak?' It didn't say for long, however, from what he's heard about her from Steve, Natasha, Clint, even Tony a few times, she was strong-willed. And to be a Shield agent? That job isn't for the weak of heart.

He tried to stop thinking about it, but his heart ached for another soul crushed, just like his. He only hoped he could maybe help her. If they ever found her again.

Wanda found it hard to tear herself away from such thoughts. She tried, but they just kept drawing her into the heartbreak, the pain. By the time she was able to detach herself from the web of horrors that was Bucky's thoughts, Wanda was emotionally exhausted.

She had finally found a consequence of reading someone's mind: sometimes you really don't want to know.  

She had to retire to her own room and sort out all the stuff she had learned, but she had also decided that maybe she shouldn't be using her powers so liberally. Maybe learning about this Y/n wasn't worth it. Maybe she should just leave it alone.

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

I have a confession to make. I had stopped being really proactive in my head for the past couple of months (I'm assuming a timeline here).  Due to that, I could feel the dark walls around me becoming soft and pliable. They weren't pliable to me, but Noxy started to invade the little space I had. It was almost like I was being eaten. The part of my body's consciousness that was me was slowly disappearing. I didn't fight back either. What was the point?

I had never allowed myself to make up scenarios about meeting the Avengers again, about them saving me, helping me, beating me. It only made my helplessness feel worse. But now? Despite everything I tried, it was the only thing I could think about. Over and over again, different options, conversations, deaths came to mind about how this could end.

'What if I could talk to them?'

'What if I somehow gained control and could join them in the middle of battle?'

'What song could be playing to somehow give them a clue of how to beat Noxy?'

That was the one I chose to entertain the most. I tried to sort through my music library but with music as my natural defense system, the lyrics seemed to be slipping away from my grasp into the dark expanses of my mind. I could only hope that the melodies were also engraved on my heart so that they could never be taken from me.

The song that I chose that could maybe give them the best clue was Blinded by the Light by what's-his-face-that-starts-with-an-m.

I became obsessed with it. Its words were one of the songs that were slipping away, and I could only mumble a few of the lines, but by heaven did I sing them.

Over.

And over.

And over.

Again.

And again.

And then maybe once more.

Blinded by the light... revekjsmed up like a dochewekf. Ansldkjthor rumner in the night!

'Please find me. Take me down. Kill me, I don't care. I need out.'

The more I thought about it, the more I became a slave to the song, to myself, to the darkness keeping me imprisoned...

Maybe I wasn't as sane as I would like to believe.

Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=33ptulhhQPg

[roaminginspiration]

Before The Last Grain

My first true AU ever! No Avengers at all. I hope you’ll enjoy!

Chapter 1

Time is a strange concept. It's impalpable yet heavily perceptible. It can make a moment linger forever or go by fleetly. It stretches or shrinks. It is mysterious and unfathomable.

Or so, it was.

It all changed fifteen years ago when scientists finally deciphered its secret code. At a time when divorces were skyrocketing in the world, a company came up with an algorithm capable of determining when you were to meet your significant other and encapsulated it in the modest form of a watch.

LOVE IS ONLY A TICK AWAY the slogan read on every TV commercial and banner in the streets and online.

Skepticism gave way to curiosity and hope. And as hard as it was to admit— and still is for some — the Watch had startling results. Every encounter predicted led to a successful relationship. Love blossomed everywhere and never perished. The divorce rate fell significantly across the world and the efficiency of the Watch became indisputable.

The principle is astoundingly simple. The Watch activates around the wrist of the wearer the first time it is worn and sets automatically. When the countdown reaches 0, which means you are standing in front of your soulmate, it beeps (along with theirs) then turns off completely.

Of course, a small, trivial object with such power stirs strong opinions. People began to argue over it — some asked to make it illegal and have it banned. The initiative was strongly supported by the main Churches, but not only. Over time, — after the heated debate wore off—, you could pretty much find three categories of people. The overwhelming majority — who wore the Watch and waited expectantly waited for the last tick; the minority — those who'd refused to buy or activate it altogether; and those who knew, but vehemently tried to fight against fate...at their own scale.

Now, whether people live by or abhor it, the Watch has become a trivial object omnipresent in your everyday life. Like a phone or tablet.

The many people currently bustling in the small Manhattan coffee shop are walking past, waiting in line for their orders with a Watch around their wrist. Or not. It's something you don't dwell on.

Natasha Romanoff is sipping coffee at her usual table by the window, right next to the tall plant. She looks up from the book she's reading and notices a man is staring at her from the sugar counter across the room. She dismisses it and goes on to take another sip before resuming her reading. Her cup is nearly empty when a tall, broad figure comes to stand above her.

"Excuse me," a male voice calls. She takes her eyes off of the page and looks up. It is the same man from earlier. He's holding his cup and has a notebook clutched under his arm.

His blue eyes stare into hers with an unexpected combination of boldness and bashfulness.

"I couldn't help admiring you from across the room and, as I was about to leave, I thought I had to take a chance and come and speak to you."

She raises her eyebrow. His advances certainly are flattering. And she'll admit, he is strikingly handsome. His sharp, square jaw, his full lips, and the golden hair, without mentioning his incredible athletic figure — the man has it all.

"May I?" he asks, pointing at the chair across from her.

She nods. He smiles and sits down. He puts down on the table what she realizes is a leather sketchbook, creased in the middle for often being folded with the corners worn out. He attentively watches her.

“You come here a lot?” he asks.

“Probably more than I should,” she says with a smirk. “You?”

“First time, actually. And I’m glad I did.”

The smirk tugging at his lips is compelling. Almost irresistible.

“Yeah. Their lattes sure are the best,” she chimes in. Her humor makes him smile.

They chat, mostly banter in the most natural and familiar way until he finally asks:

“Can I give you my number? See how things could develop…”

She eyes him without a word.

“They wouldn’t develop much unless you are…,” she trails off as she pulls up her sleeve, “3 months, 5 days and 37 minutes early.”

He brushes his thumb over his bottom lip with a slightly stern expression. He takes a breath in and leans back on the chair. His eyes dive into hers, unwavering.

“You didn’t come off as the type to wear the Watch,” he says. He doesn’t sound disappointed or judging. Maybe the contrary intrigued and willing to tackle that unexpected challenge.

“I like to keep people on their toes.”

“3 months, huh? That’s quite close,” he comments.

She smiles unabashedly. He nods to himself.

“I’ll admit I didn’t see this hold-up coming but I’m a good judge of character.”

“And?” she cocks an eyebrow.

He extends his forearms on the table and leans over, creating an unsettling kind of intimacy.

“You’re not the type to let an algorithm take control of your life.”

His bold statement and the quiet confidence he displays draw her in. She smiles and glances away quietly.

“Or maybe I believe in destiny.” A short, contemplative silence follows.

He quickly looks at the clock on the wall across.

“Time seems to be against us today. But I’m pretty stubborn. What’s your name?” he asks, casually.

“Natasha.”

It makes him smile. “Let’s make a deal, Natasha,” he purrs her name like hot and sweet liquor. “If we meet again, you’ll owe me a date. It’ll be my honor to ask you out again.”

“Why would I make such a deal?” she questions daringly.

“Because if we meet again we can definitely agree it was meant to be, right?”

The corner of his mouth curls up. He takes his sketchbook, folds it under his arm then gets up. As he walks away, she calls out.

“If I choose to honor this deal, I should at least know your name.”

His large shoulders spin around. He smiles triumphantly.

“Steve Rogers.”

That evening Natasha Romanoff comes home from work and smiles as she finds herself almost wishing to meet that stranger in the coffee shop again.

_____________________________

2 MONTHS, 30 DAYS, 18 HOURS, 12 MINUTES AND 33 SECONDS

And indeed, they do. It happens very randomly about a week later. Natasha is chatting alongside her colleague and friend Maria Hill at a fancy but relaxed banquet party they have been invited to when she sees him, watching her from across the room. He is standing with a group of people who are laughing loudly, totally oblivious of the scene that seems to unfold in slow motion.

He is wearing an elegant black shirt with sleeves rolled halfway up his forearms with a pair of black trousers. It strikingly contrasts with his light hair and turquoise blue eyes. He is a guest, too, but he has the attention of half the females in the audience without even trying. But he doesn’t seem to notice. His eyes are fixed on her with a satisfying smirk playing on his lips.

He lets the moment linger as a way to savor his victory. And oddly perhaps, she is too. Maybe she likes the thrill of this adventurous curve in the straight and steady path lying ahead of her.

She whispers a couple of words into Maria’s ear, apologizes to her company and goes out on the large terrace looking over Manhattan and its skyline. It only takes a few seconds before she hears him approach.

“Quite a lovely evening, isn’t it?” he says after standing by the guardrail.

“And full of surprises,” she finishes with a smile.

She turns to face him. “Ok, what’s your secret? How’d you know you’d find me here?”

He leans an elbow on the rail and turns towards her, too.

“I didn’t. I’m pleasantly surprised too, to be honest.”

She snorts and shakes her head, then gazes at the floodlit landscape in front of them.

“So how come you were invited? Who are you friends with?”

He points at the exuberant man giving a grandiloquent speech to his assembly.

“I’m Tony Stark’s lawyer.”

She nods to herself. “I guess that explains the whole ‘good judge of character’ talk.”

“Becoming his lawyer may not have been my brightest moment,” he jokes. “And you?”

“I’m a pianist. Stark has been funding many of my concerts across the city.”

“You must be very good at it, then. Tony doesn’t choose to be someone’s patron lightly.”  

She smiles silently. She can feel his expectant gaze upon her.

“So…Natasha, will you have dinner with me? And who knows? I might even surprise you.”

His boyish smile forces a giggle out of her. She reaches over to take the flute of champagne in his hand and takes a sip.

“Maybe you already have,” she murmurs.  

_______________________________

The date was agreed on for the following Friday in a busy street in Brooklyn. She finds him standing on the sidewalk, hands in his pockets. He is wearing a dark brown leather jacket. She has put on a pair of blue high-waist jeans with a silky maroon cropped top with a jacket. Her hair is up in a bun.

He flashes a wide when he sees her coming up.

“You look stupendous,” he says. For a pair of jeans and a jacket?

“That’s…quite an enthusiastic response.”

He chuckles. “You’ll understand later.”

“So where are we going?” she asks.

“I know a local Italian around the corner. It’s been open for as far as I can remember.”

They make their way there. The interior is as modest as the outside façade. It surprises her — not a common choice for a Wall Street lawyer. He’s not trying to dazzle her and she likes it.

“Steve!” a man calls loudly in a thick Italian accent. He warmly shakes his hand and taps his shoulder then turns to greet Natasha with the same friendly enthusiasm. “Welcome to Giovanni’s, darling. I have kept the best table for you.”

They go and sit and Giovanni lights up the half-used candle.

“They serve the best lasagna. I know, I’ve tried at other places.”

Giovanni casts him the glare. Steve gulps. “Not that many.”

The wine is exquisite in an authentic type of way. There is nothing glittery or arrogant at Giovanni’s but it’s charming all the same. She can see why he’s chosen this place for their first date.

"Of course we could only meet again, and in these circumstances. This is Tony Stark's world and we all live in it," she remarks and they both laugh.

The conversation eventually shifts to the Watch.

“What’s your story? Why aren’t you wearing one?”

“Why should I?” he laughs. “Half my family is obsessed with it and I’m not sure they are any happier.”

“So your family doesn’t share your views?”

“The day my parents got theirs it struck the end of their marriage. My father was never truly involved anyways; it simply gave him an excuse to leave us. My mom’s Watch beeped eventually and she re-married. He’s a nice guy; his wife had passed many years before. They’re doing well. His son — my step-brother — who’s about my age, has patiently been waiting for his Watch to beep.”

“And what’s so wrong about it?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Call me old-fashioned or stubborn, but I like the idea that I have chosen the person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Some people need a little help, sometimes. It is scary to fall in love.”

“It’s always been. I’m not scared to have my heart broken so long as I allowed it to work.”

She eyes him from behind her glass of red wine.

“You think people don’t fall in love nowadays?”

He stares into her emerald eyes. “I think they forget to be spontaneous.”

They’re words she hasn’t heard in years and that bring back fond nostalgia.

“Spontaneous?” she trails off as she plays with the spoon of her dessert. “Show me.”

He cracks a smile.

He lays bills on the table and gets up, flaunts his leather jacket over his shoulder then stretches a hand out to her. “I was hoping you would ask.”

She looks up at him with inquisitive but beguiled eyes then glances down at his hand. She gently slips her fingers onto his palm.

A couple of minutes later, they are walking along the street. He halts and looks at her.

“Why are we stopping?” she asks.  

He smiles. “Our ride is here.”

She stares in disbelief at the big motorcycle parked behind him. She chuckles.

“You’re the first lawyer I meet who rides one of these!”

“I guess I like to keep people on their toes,” he echoes her words, earning a smirk from her, then leans over to get the helmet. He steps in front of her and gently lays it on her head. He then fastens the clip.

He teasingly pokes the tip of her nose with his finger. “It looks cute on you.”

He puts his helmet on and straddles the motorcycle. She watches with an agape mouth — what a sight!

“When you’re ready,” he says kindly.

Her heartbeat quickens. The exhilaration is slowly surging up her body. It feels like old times again. She smiles and gives an encouraging nod to herself before getting on. Her hands gently slip around his waist.

The engine roars fiercely. It sends shivers down her spine. Steve pulls back slowly then engages on the road. As they enter the freeway, his hand swiftly pulls around the handle, launching the bike forward. Her fingers grasp the fabric of his shirt. They soon get away from the bustling city and the light turns dim as they dive into the night. Steve drives fast along the deserted roads lined with trees. She slowly looks up and catches sight of the thousand stars glowing in the sky. It seems like ages since she last saw them.

The mild air sweeps across her face and she breathes in the scent of humid grass and leaves. She loosens her grip and bends backward, taking in the view, enjoying the moment. She lets out a joyful and carefree squeal whose echo dies down in the distance. He smiles from where he is sitting.

Thirty minutes, he pulls over on the side of a quiet rural road. They are both leaning on the bike, gazing at the splendorous untouched nature in front of them.

She taps her finger on the screen of her Watch.

“My father bought it for me when it came out. I’d just turned 18. He had great hopes for me which involved being in a happy marriage and having children. But I wasn’t ready for any of it. I was…,” she smiles blankly, “rebellious. Hardly contented with anything. I took his gift as a leash so I protested. Commitment meant little to me. I’d date around for the sake of proving I could. Then I met this guy, a singer, he offered me my ticket out. I went with him on a tour around Europe. It was fun, and I felt free. Alive.” She pauses and takes a deep breath in. “My father had a heart attack. He died alone and it took days before someone even realized and found him. It took even longer before I came back and claimed his body. After that, I saw why family was important. And I put the Watch on.”

She turns to look at him with watery eyes and shrugs slightly as she sniffs and forces a smile. “Never took it off once ever since.”

Steve is watching her quietly. She notices his eyes are slightly gleaming too under the moonlight. “I’m sorry,” he says.

She shakes her head. “It’s ok. It was years ago. Anyways, when I came back I settled down and resumed my studies. I started a new life and it hasn’t been an unhappy one so far.”

The corner of his mouth goes up slightly. “Has it been a happy, fulfilling one, though?”

She runs her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know. It’s been so long. But it feels safe.”  

“I get it. I really do.”

They look at each other without a word. She bites her bottom lip and shuts her eyelids. Her mind runs through a thousand thoughts, once of which is far more obsessive than the others and she can no longer pretend to ignore. Looking back at him staring at her with such candor and yearning, she feels the pull to lean in.

She makes a resolute nod and stands on her feet. She turns to face him.

“If we’re doing this,” she begins, “we can’t get attached. We’re just being spontaneous and going along with it…for the time it lasts.”

Still sitting on the bike, he looks at her with meek, but lustful, eyes. He looks down and shakes his head, snorting.

“Natasha. I like you,” he admits. “I like you. I think part of me will always want more but I can’t risk losing it all for being too greedy. We’ll go with your terms.”

She smiles. “Great,” she says and holds her hand up to make it an official shake.

He laughs softly. He swiftly puts a hand to her waist and pulls her to him, crushing his lips against hers, sealing the deal with a kiss.

2 MONTHS, 28 DAYS, 14 HOURS, 41 MINUTES AND 7 SECONDS

[skekshroom]

That human colonizers one maybe to avoid Historical mistakes ... strong friendships r formed with podlings and gelfling (maybe some with the Mystics) but whatever humans had with the skeksis'll wrecked worse once they find out about the essence draining. The resistance is formed... except in the end, the humans helped many of the gelfling escape by the time the Garthim wars begin.

if they wanted to avoid historical mistakes they wouldnt have “colonized” in the first place lol. failed step one hohoh!

Buut since im writing this now, the humans in my AU aren’t gonna be colonists. They’re refugees of some kind. There is no earth empire they are reporting back to. They’re migrants, not conquerors. Bc like... noah fence to anyone who cares but I’d rather split my fuckin skull open than waste my time writing about *gags* colonizers in a genuinely positive, sympathetic light. I can excuse soul drinking vulture oligarchies but i draw the line at colonialism lmfao

Violence tw! Super long bc i crave mayhem!

[Reader Insert]

Most of the gelfling left with SkekSa and Omerya Staba. Safe in the infinite seas with the patron skeksis who was able to be convinced by your comrades that the fear of the Emperor wasn’t worth turning against the gelfling and a blind eye from her brethren’s atrocities. 

Meanwhile, everyone capable and willing stayed on land to fight the Garthim, and once they were defeated, the skeksis. The Garthim were strong, heartless. They’d already killed countless podling, gelfling and even some humans. Needless to say it was enough to fuel a rage inside you all that was incomparable to anything the skeksis could prepare themselves for. 

“Any word of SkekSa joining us?” People whispered amongst themselves.

“She has gelfling to take care of. She already abandoned her siblings... Asking her to fight them would be...”

“Perfectly reasonable, if you ask me.”

“What would YOU do if you were her?”

They didn’t get a chance to answer as twigs snapped at your three o’clock and the undergrowth was suddenly alive with snapping claws and shouting. Fear and adrenaline gripped you like pincers and throttled you senseless. You froze as a Garthim rushed towards you. 

Suddenly you thought of Earth. A dying planet you narrowly escaped perishing along with. A planet that you expected to be all you’ll ever know. A planet that loved you with everything it had, unconditionally. You grieved Earth. You would not allow the skeksis to subjugate the gelfling to that same pain. You would not grieve for a home again.

“(Y/n), look out!” Someone screamed and you clumsily fell to the side, diving out of the way of the garthim and swinging your ax against its tough carapace. It grazed and did practically no damage, but your senses were alert and jarred into awareness.

You weren’t about to let the Skeksis kill Thra when you could stand in between it. Not when humanity had a chance at saving a world when they couldn’t save their own.

With a cry you brought the ax crashing down and it pierced the Garthim’s shell with a sickening crunch. Green blood squirted out and you stumbled backwards as you wrenched your weapon out to let the beast bleed out easier. It was overtaken by other fighters in an instant. You noticed a familiar figure on the other end of the battlefield. The blade of your ax dragged across the ground.

A skeksis. As expected it just SAT there, barking orders and commanding its soulless monsters to plow through your friends and family like pieces on a chess board. Anger bubbled inside of you. Every miserable moment on this fucking rock spent in fear was because of a puny group of decaying lizards. Hundreds of innocent gelflings, drained of their very lives because of a handful of skeksis. Podling villages ransacked. Humans, killed and maimed. 

The ambiance of the battlefield seemed to dull and go in slow motion. You adjusted your grip on your ax, taking a deep breath and stepping closer and closer quietly. Your movements were masked by the mayhem of the battlefield... until you were upon him. You swung your weapon as hard as you could and landed a hit. Unluckily, he noticed you and attempted to dodge. Unfortunate for him. This would only make it more painful. 

The skeksis shrieked as the front of his body was sheared off, his entrails spilling out in fat, bloody sacs of decaying flesh and pints of dark blood. He screamed, long and earsplitting, as his lap filled with his own viscera. Fluid bubbled at his mouth and nose and he fell forward, crumbling into dust in a twitching pile of sulfuric stench. 

Without their director, many of the garthim slowed to a confused halt, bewildered and vulnerable. Some stopped their attacks, just as taken aback. Others took the opportunity to behead as many of them as possible while their guards were down.  

You stood there with your ax in hand, frozen.

Your breathing quickened and you dropped your weapon, a low moan bubbling up in your throat as you backed up. Somebody caught you in their arms and you shook your head, scooting back and keening incoherently. You tried to distance yourself as much as possible from the pile of dust and armor. You panted harshly, a loud scream ripping from your throat. It didn’t register as yours at first. 

You don’t know when you passed out, but you woke up in Vassa, a podling dabbing a wet cloth to your forehead and dressing your wounds. 

“Where’s SkekSa?” You whispered. The podling hesitated and nodded behind you. You craned your head and sure enough she sat beside your head. You gasped. 

“How are you feeling, (Y/n)?” She whispered.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out, voice breaking. The Mariner shook her head, her eyes closed and gaze averted as though she’d just been slapped.

“Just consider us even.”

[lessonsfrommadamexmas]

Maiko AU Week 2020 -- Link to AO3 Day 7: Folklore 

A/N: thanks, @idonthatemaiko for hosting another Maiko celebration, and everyone else for the content. Here’s my late conclusion for day 7. 

PART 2 (final)

Zuko woke up from another long dream. He could hardly classify them as dreams or nightmares when, in fact, they were better defined as a limbo. In that state of confusion, he was half-awake and half-asleep, his mind submerged in water, blurred, senseless, light and dark, trapped. It didn’t feel like anything once he would wake up. Nevertheless, this year gained shape. The first memories that came to his mind weren’t from his previous party or his banishment from home — they were from a dream. There was gold, like in her eyes, there was movement, like her dancing dress, there was her, sometimes, watercolored in his mind. 

Was it? He couldn’t tell for sure, but she had been the first thing to come to his mind this time. The memories of what they had lived, such a tiny moment, flooded his mind before he even looked at this sky and her image became so vivid that she almost materialized in front of him. This sky was cloudy but the moon and a few stars were visible. It didn’t matter, he didn’t bother to look at his nineteen-year-old face, either. He just needed strength to fight another battle and restart his search. 

The festivities this time were occurring fairly close to the river. He soon found the lights and realized it was a different place all over again. Zuko followed his ritual hopelessly, allowing his charm to overflow but unable to open space in his heart for any other girl. Instead of taking any woman to the river, he tried something else. The same he had tried with Mai, but he would make it right this time. 

Iara was the prettiest woman in that place, with her dark skin and voluminous hair. She was a couple years older than Zuko and a radiant figure who flourished in that environment. They talked and danced for the rest of the party. Although he had used his spell on her, he didn’t take her to the river, asking her to go out on a date the next night. 

Patiently, he waited, this time determined not to manipulate the girl. She came to him in a flowery dress that night, and he convinced himself that they would be happy. So desperately he wanted to believe so, that it had to come true. 

He placed a kiss on her hand.

— You look even more perfect than yesterday. Come with me. 

— Where? — she asked with a bright smile. 

— Let’s watch the moon by the river. 

He took her to the only home he had. Zuko’s childhood memories of the river were fond. It was the place where he could take refuge, jumping on his boat to escape from his father whenever the man was in a bad mood. That day, however, he didn’t manage to escape. The man promised his young sister to marry a rich landowner, an old man that would fortify their family’s status and power. Zuko dared to defend Azula’s right to love and choose the person she wanted to marry. In a last attempt, Zuko had tried to run away with his sister, but her loyalty to their father was stronger. 

His father, then, called upon the gods to teach him a lesson. If true love is what he wanted, the river would be his guide. Every year he would have three chances at love, and lovable he would be until his face was revealed. Then, he would be despised, until he found the right woman who would be willing to consummate their love in the waters he would now call home.

Those were the last words Zuko heard before he turned into a dolphin for the first time. 

— You know… — he told the woman by his side — I’ve been dying to kiss you from the moment I saw you. 

— Personally, I don’t know how I waited this long — she giggled and locked her lips on his. — Well, let’s take this hat, it doesn’t help us at all, right? — she added playfully, raising a malicious eyebrow to him. 

— You may not like what you’ll find there — he informed her.

Their faces were too close and that might not have helped. Her reaction was immediate. 

— What are you? 

The woman’s body language changed to distress. Iara broke apart from him abruptly while he spoke.

— I’m…

— Get away from me, you disgusting thing!

— It’s okay, I don’t want to…  

— Leave me alone!

She ran away as fast as she could, risking to fall on the ground in the dark, but he knew it was best not to follow them. That would only scare them more. 

Unwilling to think about another failled day, Zuko returned to the river and allowed the waters to put him to sleep. 

*

He arrived at the party wondering if true love happened more than once in a lifetime. What happened when you couldn’t be with the person you loved? How long until you found another one, someone capable of waking up similarly powerful feelings? What if it never happened to him again? 

He walked aimlessly by the streets, trying to keep Mai out of his mind, observing every single face, gestures, attires. Sitting on a bench on the sidewalk, he spotted a dark haired girl. A portion of her hair fell down her shoulder and another was wrapped in two buns. Her dress was a simple dark blue, contrasting with everyone else’s colorful clothes. She looked in the other direction, but he would never not recognize that pointy nose and sharp chin. 

Mai lived there. His heart was jumping out of the ribcage as Zuko hurried his steps and dared to surprise the woman. Had the waters guided him all the way to his lover in the end? 

— If you would like to escape from here, the river is nearby. 

— It’s you. — Mai’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. However, that expression quickly turned into such a pleased look he could only conclude she was, in fact, glad to see him again. — Zuko.

She remembered. The young man’s hope was restored in that exact moment. The flame burning inside of him was certain that his turning point had come, and all those years searching would finally come to an end. 

— I missed you. We could talk privately if you’re not busy. 

— I’m not. 

— Do you trust me this time? 

— I do — the smirk in her lips told him she was up for trouble. 

They walked hand in hand all the way, with Mai following silently but confident in her steps. The heat was comfortable in the open area where the breeze ran freely and played with the tree branches. 

The clouds were going away, but the moon couldn’t compete with her beauty, only highlight it. 

— I guess it won’t rain for now… — he started, but she wasn’t up for wasting time. 

— Zuko, I’ve waited for you — she spoke up and resentment emanated from her voice. — For the past year I waited until I lost hope. I almost forgot everything about you, sometimes it felt like a dream, but everything returned as soon as I saw you. Where have you been, why only now? 

— It’s complicated. But I’ve been waiting for you too. To talk to you again and feel your lips on mine. Mai — He cradled her cheeks softly, — if you decide now that you want to be with me, I will never leave you again. 

He gave her a questioning kiss.

— I do — she whispered, her body language asking for a second one. 

However, he interrupted her in order to remove his hat. 

— Are you sure?

Taken aback, her golden eyes studied his face for what felt like an endless second. 

— What is this? 

— Doesn’t it scare you? 

— No… Is it a disease? Some kind of birthmark? 

— You’re curious?

— It’s just… That it doesn’t look human, that’s all. 

Zuko wasn’t sure if he even understood her reaction. Mai’s hands were still holding onto his arms as she tried to decipher him. 

— Don’t you hate what you see? — he searched for the expected reaction, the only one he had ever received and needed to pull out of her mouth.

— I don’t hate you. I could never. I won’t let go of you again. 

She didn’t give him any more time to process her words, instead proved them with her subsequent actions. Mai gave him another passionate kiss, her eager hands removing his suit  and unbuttoning his shirt. He mirrored her attitude and explored her back, undoing the loop of his lover’s dress while his lips cascaded down her neck. The man placed a soft bite on her clavicle before removing her shoulder strap and felt her fingers entangle his hair excitedly. Once their clothes were off, Zuko held Mai in his arms and took her to the river. 

The moon was out and bright celebrating their love and breeze cooled off as the night advanced. When both of them decided to come out of the water, she walked to the riverbend but the man was pulled back for one last dive. He felt the stream surround him for a few seconds before he could return to the surface. Gasping for air, he grounded both feet on the bottom and saw his lover, still naked, staring in confusion. 

Zuko’s hand trembled when it met his left eye and felt his own human skin. 

— Are you okay? — Mai shouted. — Your eye, you… What happened? 

He smiled. Then, he laughed. She was curious, indeed. The young man’s hearty laughter filled the air, louder, daring happiness to pay a visit after so many years. 

— Yes, I am. I’m free. 

He had some explaining ahead of him.