#i think i just went through the most ethereal experience in my entire life

[soupandflowers]

Our father,

who art in heaven,

hollow thee thy name,

thy kingdom come,

thy will be done,

as Earth as it is in heaven,

give us this day our daily bread,

and forgive us trespasses,

and lead us not into temptation,

but deliver us from evil.

Amen.

[canidbld]

The Ethereal Unknowning of a Ghostly Hound

Trigger warnings: mentions of suicide and trauma

Word count: 1.6k

— An entry to Sol's November Writing Challange (aka @who-is-page)

I recently only came to understand the way I see myself and the way I see the world would fit under the definition of therianthropy only in March of this year.

It's currently November now, a good seven months spent on researching and introspection and trying to understand this label and identity within context to myself. I've read so many essays of others' personal experiences thanks to the grey muzzles from the 90's and to the archivists who collected their stories and the few academic papers and published books about therianthropy.

Right now I feel much more equipped than I did when I first awakened in March. Regardless that doesn't mean I still don't get confused and I still doubt my experiences and myself a lot especially when one of my kintypes is and was a ghostly spectral watch dog.

When I first awakened, I knew I was a canine, which was contrary to the common experience of researching your theriotype for months to years before understanding you are that animal. However I still put myself through that process because I actually did cycle between wolves to foxes to a bunch of other canids. I comfimed to domestic dog within a week. What was boiling under the surface, however, was another kintype that was extremely similar to my domestic dog theriotype but had a more otherworldly essence to it.

It's hard you see, being a primarily psychological therian. I don't have any memories or past lives to validate my experience and I'm a chronic overthinker by nature so it was hard enough to come to the realization that I was a dog but it was another thing entirely to process that I was more than just a dog.

Except, not really. It made entire sense when I rationalized it and looked back and cross-referenced my experience with other things it was just my nature of being a self-critic that made it so hard.

So then, why a ghost dog? And what did that mean, like, really? How could I be a supernatural dog when I have never experienced a supernatural thing in my life? Why was I something like a ghost dog when I don't have a spiritual bone in my body?

I like to think of myself as a grounded individual despite my anxiety, making me feel mentally disoriented and disconnected from reality at times. I thrive in the material reality.

At the time of awakening and after a grueling self critical and overthinking period (which never really stopped to be honest), I went from thinking I could be a potential hellhound to confirming being a black dog from folklore. Think Black Shuck and Church Grimm.

I mean, my entire identity as a canine itself (even if, according to my memories of this life, I was somewhat always a canine) originated from persistant traumatic events so questioning a hellhound kintype was just an amalgamation of all my habits and behaviors developed by trauma visualized into a dog. It was almost logical, really. You know, the imagery of a feral dog was very attractive to me when I felt so weak. But calling myself a hellhound didn't feel right, I had tried to do that via creating a hellhoundhearted blog (aka this one) and adopted the otherhearted label but when you are confused about a potential kintype and weather it's something you actually are then the next thing you do is research.

So I did. I tried very hard to look deep into the internet to hunt and dig up the most obscure articles and youtube videos about hellhounds to try and compare the way I felt about myself and realized that it was specifically the angry energy hellhounds exuded and how they were portrayed in certain myths and legends that I couldn't see myself as. Hellhounds were brave and strong despite their sinister mythos but I felt more cowardly and fearful. And black dogs were different from hellhounds, at least from my perspective. To me, hellhounds were violently angry. They were loyal for sure but they had a strength to them. They were fire red and burning screams. They were the fight response instead of the flight. Black dogs on the other hand had slightly more variety in its legends with some ghost dogs being neutral to benevolent. They were watchers. Observers. Inquisitive but also unpleasant and unwanted.

In my head, the amalgamation of my trauma was calmer. Quiter. Distant. Lonely. Tired. It had it's hot red fire moments for sure but my dissociation tendencies was pretty much how I coped the most with what I was going through.

So I came across the mythology of Black Shuck and all the other spectral canines that went under the same category and knew that this was what I meant. This was how I saw myself. A ghostly apparition on the moor, blink once and it dissappears at the slightest movement. Uncanny, unpredictable but not always hostile.

This black dog kintype was emphasized by reasons such as:

Feeling as if I was often looked over or like I wasn't even there, mainly referring to when other people would just ignore me or barely acknowledge my existence

Feeling entirely disconnected and dissociated from reality in general, which made everything feel so muted and dull that it was geniuenly hard to feel anything emotionally and physically

The hypervigilant feeling of always checking and being aware of my surroundings trying to make sure my environment was safe (I was super sensitive to noises like footsteps and knocking on doors from strangers)

These reasons were also solidified by the behaviors I would exhibit such as walking around the neighborhood between the times of 12am to 4am much like the tales of Padfoot who would stalk towns at night. I'd feel so alive and ethereal in those moments as if I was in some sort of stagnant limbo which I think now was just me dissociating (By the way, in retrospect, this was completely dangerous to do especially since I was trans and a minor in those times.)

But the biggest thing that all supernatural canines had in common was their association to death. That was one of the biggest reasons why I saw myself as one. My justification being that I felt like I was always on the verge of death due to my suicidal tendencies and attempts as a teen. I felt closer to death then ever. I wasn't a messenger of death persay, but I felt acquaintanced with it enough that I truly believed that death was comforting to me, apart of who I am. I realize now that I truly just wasn't in a healthy mindset. I wasn't death's best friend, I was just a lonely kid that was suicidal and was trying to cope.

And that's pretty much how I can properly explain what being a mythic black dog kintype meant to me. It was a product of my trauma and dissociation personified in myself as a way for me to cope. Of course, when I realized this, I knew that never discredited this being a valid reasoning behind a kintype. However, the problem was that I no longer felt so traumatized anymore. I've grown and I'm still growing and learning and healing. I'm not suicidal anymore, and my dissociation isn't as bad as it was years ago, and now I live in a safe place with a good support system in my boyfriend.

I had actually talked to him about this earlier this month about my black dog kintype on how I believed I no longer identified as a mythic black dog due due to feeling as if I've healed mostly from my trauma so the need to cling onto this feeling of being and seeing myself as a ghost dog was no longer necessary to cope. It was sad though, I told him, because the black dog was a part of me, you know? Even if its identity was just my trauma personified, that black dog was there during my worst moments and comforted me when I had no one else. Admiting to letting go of that identity felt like I was losing a piece of myself. Because in those moments as a kid/teen/young adult and the time I awakened those several months ago, the black dog was who I proudly was. Heck, even this blog is modeled and focused on the black dog!

But you know, its a good thing I think, to acknowledge that you're sad about healing because sometimes negative emotions and feeding into negative urges and behaviors can feel comforting but being able to be aware of that and still let go and move on makes me feel accomplished.

Despite having that talk with my boyfriend though, sometimes I still feel that etherealness of the black dog in moments like right now, as I'm writing this post and my boyfriend is asleep and I'm watching over him, guarding him in the night as I stay up late and wait for him to wake up like an affectionate dog waiting for his owner to come home.

So I guess I'm always on my toes when it comes to my ghost dog kintype. Always constantly questing a kintype that is as incomprehensible to me like sand falling between fingers.

I think ultimately, from my current understanding, being and identifying as a ghostly hound is about perspective. Traits that I thought and believed were because I was a mythic black dog was just another symptom of trauma in someone else's eyes but the casual and calm and soft moments at night remind me that being a black dog wasn't just all about trauma and suffering.

[bastetwastaken]

Thanks for replying back to my message~ I do prefer private massages a bit more to start though I'm not opposed to sharing with people and collaborating things ⭐

Just to give perspective, I'm okay face to face in person with people but online I get a bit (sometimes a lotta bit) nervous, partly cause the delay time between messages can give my head time to tear apart words and color things in shades of worries.

The other issue, I have exactly 0 Puzzleshipping friends and I've not been an active part of a group for a fandom by myself ether which adds pressure, especially with those who's work I admire and really wish I could connect with. Sometimes I feel like I'm outside of group dynamics and get really self conscious but I don't want to cause someone to feel like they -have- to do something.

I used to just hang around a close friend and follow them though whatever they were into but that was years ago and I also went through some life changes. Now I'd like to be part of a community that aligns with my interests and not just stuck in my corner hoping for "some day". I came back to my very first ship here and have been delighted to see how it's evolved~ ❤️💜✨ but I also have still been in that corner, despite trying to comment. It might just me me tho, I've always been by myself in fandoms : /

It's a different kind of feeling to be inside of and participate rather than be impersonally idling and spectating as I have before. You can get sad and disheartened when you repeatedly try and feel like you can't reach ppl and yet see how easily others seem to do it. It can feel like there's something wrong with you even though you know ppl are different and things take time, but that want grows hungry when care catches and latches and can eat you instead.

I just wanted someone to understand the page that I'm on, to know why I might be awkward or missing somethings and need a gentle hand til I grow in those flight feathers, NEEDS EXP PLZ HELP LVL UP 🐦 I want to contribute worthwhile things to whether it's conversing or finally popping out art so I'll keep working attit and I appreciate you being here 🤍🌿

I hope I can give encouragement to you too~ we all need a little kindness and connection, you can come to me too if you need things🌿 You mentioned experiencing a bout of loneliness, I wouldn't mind listening, I like knowing what's going on and we have our rain and shine 🤍🤍 I'm gonna quietly hit up your inbox unless you want to communicate another way = )

I know people use discord, I've seen it but I've never been invited to use it soooo, idk entirely what to do there, you'd have to baby me on that (and I won't always be this long =P)

But thanks again for taking time with me 🌌

We can talk privately friend, that's not an issue ^.^ Feel free to slide into my dms any time!

I understand how you feel, online can be harder than irl because you don't have visual confirmation that the person is free to talk right that second, tone can be lost through just text and timezones, man, timezones. I'm in the UK, so I'm currently on GMT and at the time of responding it's 10:35am. I get you, I have friends in America who are five hours behind me, friends in Europe an hour ahead and a friend in Australia who's just plain living in the future. So finding time to talk can be hard, but we make it work ^^

I think the most important thing is to just keep those time differences in mind, and once you get to know someone better you'll likely realise patterns in when they're around, when they respond faster and when they might be sleeping. It's all a learning experience ^^

I can introduce you to a puzzleshipping server on discord full of lovely people if you like. It's a big server, I won't lie sometimes I get overwhelmed by how big it is, but you can sit quietly in there and just see what people are saying or you can be more active, there's no obligation either way. I know that sometimes we all just need someone to take us to those places where likeminded people are, and just hold our hand a little. We'll sort it in dms <3

My friend, I understand exactly how you feel and you're very much not alone. You're doing something amazing talking about how you feel because that shit is hard. So fucking hard, but look at you, doing it anyway. I've tried to interact with other people, sometimes those interactions just don't go the way I'd like. I've been ignored, talked over and made to feel like I don't belong and believe me when I say that we're not the only ones. It's easy to let those interactions prevent you from trying again, but you're trying again right now and I hope that this time it'll be different for you.

In regards to your other ask- Loneliness can be felt whether you're surrounded by people or not. You could have 100 friends and still feel lonely. You could get 1000's of likes on a post and still feel lonely. Loneliness is not exclusive to any particular set of circumstances, so you're not being ungrateful, you're being honest in how you feel and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

I'll wait for your message <3 <3

[moochilatv]

Sam Blacky x Niniola presents: Ronaldinho

Electronic metts soccer

Sam Blacky Joins Forces With Acclaimed Grammy-nominated Nigerian Singer-Songwriter Niniola On Inspiring Vocal Afro-House Single "Ronaldinho." Out Now on Easier Said

Powerhouse LA-based DJ/producer Sam Blacky partners with Grammy-nominated African singer-songwriter hailing from Nigeria, Niniola, for their new single "Ronaldinho," which celebrates the former's love for afro house and the latter's Nigerian history in a dynamic, soulful sonic journey. Sam has long loved pushing the boundaries of dance music and breaking music genres' molds, and over the past few years, it's become apparent that her true passion lies in creating globally-inspired, dance-worthy records. "Ronaldinho" is a shining example of this with its undulating, deep basslines, percussive instrumentals, and ethereal melodies courtesy of Sam, while Niniola's shining vocals truly turn the song into a spiritual listening experience. With the summer festival season just heating up, "Ronaldinho" is about to be heard on the beach, the festival stage, and the club dance floors around the world. The track is out now on Easier Said, which finds Sam exercising her artistic freedom by once again joining a formidable roster of forward-thinking artists such as Barclay Crenshaw, Life on Planets, Maya Jane Coles, Party Pupils, and Todd Terry.

"As the years have passed, my passion has become more and more integrated with what we know as afro house. When the opportunity came up to work with one of the original, most iconic singers in that realm, all the way from Nigeria, there was no question. I heard what Niniola had done with the vocals for Ronaldinho and knew I had to make this song with her. Having someone who is such an amazing storyteller, with such an incredible voice, who has lived this life through and through brings an entirely different message and meaning to the music." - Sam Blacky

Sam Blacky's forthcoming dates:

May 26 - Brooklyn, NY - We Belong Here Jun 05 - Los Angeles, CA - Academy LA Jun 08 - Montréal, QC - New City Gas Jun 22 - San Diego, CA - Horizon Music Festival Jun 23 - Long Beach, CA - Day Trip Festival Jul 06 - Kristiansand, NO - Palmesus Festival

Niniola

Niniola participated in several social activities and competitions. She finished third runner-up in the sixth season of Project Fame West Africa. Niniola released her debut single - "Ibadi," on 19 March 2014. The song received positive reviews, topped national music charts, and gained extensive airplay. Her singles "Ibadi" and "Gbowode" were included in the soundtrack for season 2 of "Gidi Up." Niniola was nominated in the Most Promising Act to Watch category at the 2015 Nigeria Entertainment Awards. In 2017, Niniola went on to release another single titled "Maradona," which went on to become a global hit. "Maradona" enjoyed a good 13 weeks on the South African charts and was at the No.1 spot for over 6 weeks. It also earned Niniola a BET Awards and SAMA nominations. Since then, Niniola has gone on to receive nods from international heavyweights like Drake, Timbaland, and others. In 2019, elements of the single were sampled on "The Lion King: The Gift Album" by Beyoncé on the track "Find Your Way Back," where she also appeared as a songwriter and composer of the song, which has gone on to get Niniola a Grammy nomination. In April 2020 and later in June 2021, she received her 1st, 2nd Grammy nomination certificate for her work as a composer. In June 2021, she's got inducted into the Grammy Recording Academy Class of 2021. In July 2021, Niniola's single, "Maradona" was certified gold in South Africa by the Recording Industry of South Africa RISA.

Sam Blacky is a multitalented DJ, Producer, and Cultural Icon from San Diego, USA. She spent several years in Australia, where she first fell in love with producing music and performing live. Since moving back to the US, music, performing, and fashion have taken a front seat in her life. Performing since 2017, she's graced the stages from Mexico to Ibiza, Bali to Europe, and some of the world's premier electronic music festivals and clubs.

Since her first self-released EP in 2021, Sam has released on esteemed labels such as Repopulate Mars, Terms & Conditions, Easier Said, Thrive Music, and Hood Politics. Her standout remix of "Gaslight" for Grammy-nominated Inji was a viral sensation. Sam's signature style of blending Afro-House, Latin House, and everything in between is connecting with global audiences and has earned her the coveted 1001 Tracklists' "Future of Dance" producer list two years in a row. Her latest release - "Amor," was remixed by Brazilian producer Illusionize and cemented her place worldwide as a one to watch.

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[bukojuiice]

— their wedding day with you.

ೃ pairings: (izuku midoriya, katsuki bakugo, shoto todoroki, x fem! reader)

ೃ  tags: headcanons, tooth rotting fluff

ೃ warnings:  none

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ if you want to be a part of my mha taglist. send me an ask!  ♡

ೃ  please do reblog if you enjoyed!! it really helps writers and content creators on tumblr! (feel free to add tags too because i love reading them and my heart swells with happiness when people love my work!)

ೃ after a million wedding videos and pinterest boards later, i’m excited to share with all of you my wedding hcs! these are short and a quick read so i hope you enjoy!  ♡

-  you and your fiancé, katsuki, were arguing over the venue and the theme of the wedding. he wanted it to be a simple ceremony. perhaps taking place at just a regular event place- whilst you wanted the venue to be at a beach. 

- it was a dream you had always wanted while innocently planning your wedding as a kid. so why not make it a reality?

-        The two of you peacefully decided on it over rock paper scissors. You won so… the beach wedding it is.

-        (Katsuki actually loved the idea of the beach wedding as much as you did. He just didn’t want to admit it.)

-        coral blue and oceana palettes, luscious palm trees swaying with the wind coming from the sea, the calming sound and view of the ocean, coral and shell designs hung everywhere, tables and chairs with little boho and aquatic inspired designs.

-        mitsuki bakugo insisted on making your wedding dress. you were overjoyed and deeply touched by her sweet gesture. As she wants the best for her beautiful and loving daughter in law after all.

-        The dress was one of the most angelic and heavenly gowns you have ever seen in your entire life. a long graphic lace gown with an open back and the edges of your white dress had frills like that of a mermaid tail. you wore a shell bracelet, to match with katsuki’s.

-        kirishima and kaminari jokingly dared bakugo to wear a tuxedo heavily inspired by the dc superhero, aquaman to keep the beach theme going. of course, katsuki ignored their suggestions and little jokes, opting for something of his usual style. his suit partially unbuttoned, tan rolled up-pants and matching shell bracelets with you.

- as you walk down the aisle, katsuki could not think of anything but the bursting feeling inside of him saying that this was it. this serendipitous event was going to signify the start of his life... his life with you.  

- your beauty and radiance was like that of a mermaid, your (h/c) hair flowing with the wind and the ocean was there as if practically glowing for you. whereas he felt like a mere pirate who could do nothing but watch you from afar as he sailed the shores.

- yet here you are, about to approach him, to finally begin this momentous event.

- the gentle mermaid fell in love with the aggressive pirate. how sweet.

- you insisted on playing songs from the little mermaid during your walk down the aisle and during the reception, sadly, katsuki disapproved of both. with a little convincing and a dozen of cute pouty faces later, he agreed to have someone play a romantic song. just one.

- the two of you decided on someone performing a beautiful rendition of “can’t take my eyes off of you” 

-        bakugo was about to cry while reciting his vows. Almost. He was totally going to shed some tears after the wedding ceremony, for only you to see, and before the two of you make your appearance at the reception.

- the wedding and the reception ends wonderfully as fireworks began to pop in the sky, colorful swirls as if they were coloring the sky, with one of the firecrackers even shaped as a heart. the reception continues with people dancing, and while your husband wasn’t one for festivities and dancing, he would give this day a pass as you bring him to the middle of the dance floor as the two of you dance the night away.

- “you’re just too good to be true...  Can't take my eyes off of you~ you'd be like Heaven to touch, i wanna hold you so much~”

-        shoto wants the most important day of his life to be reminiscent of a fairy tale as he wasn’t able to experience the wonder and the beauty of it as a child.

-        to keep the theme consistent, he rents out a quaint recreational woodland not far from the city.

-        he wants it to be perfect just for you especially since you’ve been dreaming of living a fairy tale for such a long time… and here you are now about to fulfill that dream.

-        the wedding starting at dusk, twinkling lights and garlands hanging around the trees, fairy lights sprawled about, blooming archways, lilac ash and sandstone pallets, long romantic banquet, and guests composed of his closest friends and family.

-        you’re dressed in a beautiful white (with pastel blue accents) floofy dress reminiscent of a fairy. embroidered with vines, satin flowers, and butterfly accents. instead of a veil, you’re wearing a flower crown decorated with pretty white daisies and leaves.

-        whilst shoto was wearing a suit reminiscent of peter pan. an exquisite blue suit with a peter pan lily as his boutonnière.

-        As soon as he sees you walking down the aisle, tears were about to stream down from his cheeks.

- the whole todoroki fam are at the brink of tears too, as these were one of the very rare times they see the youngest todoroki with the biggest smile and most blissful look on his face. 

-        All of the guests stand up, each seat has one thin branch with attached handcrafted butterflies and fireflies for them to hold up and to illuminate your way to Shoto.

-        A musician strums their guitar and begins to sing “Can’t Help Falling In Love” by Elvis Presley.

-        He’s just beyond delighted to see you. As if flowers were blooming with every step you take, approaching closer and closer to him.

- “wise men say... only fools rush in... but I can’t help falling in love with you...”

-        You looked ethereal. Like a dawning light.

-        You continue to walk down the aisle, looking back at him. All the pure love and adoration you have visible in your eyes.

- midway through your vows, shoto couldn’t take it anymore and the tears just flowed down his face. you giggle lightly, the other guests were snickering along.  you bring him into a hug, kissing his tear-imprinted face as the two of you continue with the ceremony.

- It felt like an absolute dream. This was the best day of both of your lives after all.

-        “And they lived happily ever after.”

- you and izuku  just wanted a simple yet still fancy backyard wedding. 

- as the two of you wanted to spend most of your budget on traveling the world for your honeymoon trip instead.

- you could still make things absolutely beautiful and pleasing to look at after all. with your amazing teamwork and working on the planning together, you could manifest a delightful wedding. 

- there wasn’t a particular theme per se. both you and izu weren’t really ones to go into specifics anyway. you just wanted to replicate a very light and airy feeling that can be seen in most dreamy weddings.

-  string lights hung everywhere, a huge whimsical canopy was built up on the yard with two iridescent chandeliers hanging on the inside, draped fabrics and lush, interwoven greenery, mint and powdered colored accents, and a mini bar at the entrance.

- all of the heroes that izuku had known all his life were invited to the wedding. and of course, they wouldn’t miss it for the world. with practically everyone attending the #1 hero’s big day.

- with the help of the girls from class 1-a and after several hours of trying on the most beautiful dresses, your heart was set on an embroidered tulle and crepe white gown. instead of a veil, you opted for a  white crown headpiece, resembling that of a halo. 

- izuku on the other hand, at the behest of the boys of class 1-a, wanted him to wear something extravagant that could woo you. izuku disliked all the suits that they made him try out and instead went for a black suit jacket, dark blue dress shirt, and to complete the look, a cute little bow tie. 

- you walk down the aisle, holding a bouquet of flowers, your calming and ever so beaming presence felt like the light that he had been looking for all his life.

-  izuku could just stare at you lovingly like this if he could. he fights the tears welling up in his eyes, but he knows he’s going to break soon.

- and he does. as soon as he starts reciting his vows, izuku begins to weep. the genuineness and the love that you could hear from his voice and from the emotions he was showing right now made you feel so warm inside. 

- you hug him and squeeze both of his hands tight as he calmly yet emotionally goes through the entirety of his vow. 

- at the reception, inko and all might offer a special toast to you and izuku. their speech composed mostly of doting words and a lot of light-hearted “parent” jokes. 

- dekusquad + bakugo came up to the stage too to give their chaotic toast to the groom and bride, and the atmosphere and the mood became even more fun and lighthearted.

- as a surprise, you and izuku prepared a short musical number. the two of you were going to duet stand by me by ben e. king.

-  “when the night has come... and the land is dark... and the moon is the only light we'll see~ no I won't be afraid... oh, I won't be afraid. just as long as you stand, stand by me~”

ೃ taglist: @chibishae34​​ @sparkykatsuki​​ @ramunegoddess​, @serossimpy

[nishigo]

an anomaly. // bennett x reader.

a page from the book of memories.

[ p a g e 3 2 9 ｡ ]

authors note: hello! this is my first ever attempt at something for genshin impact. this is longer than i expected, and there may be errors here and there, so i am sorry about that in advance. i do hope you will enjoy it though. i got bennett yesterday after rolling and although many say he’s annoying...he’s very much like me in real life. coincidence? i think not. Σ('◉⌓◉’) i also rolled a girl named keqing. she seems nice, and is a five star, but i don’t know if she’s rare. i truly don’t know how this system works, apologies. T^T anyways, traveler, happy reading. (*'▽'*)

word count : 2191

tw : none that i can think of. very much fluff. and perhaps a touch of a flirty!reader. :)

request status at time of posting : open.

in which he had finally someone who could balance out his unluckiness.

would you like to read?

＞　行｡ ( y e s )

＞　不行 。( n o )

———

Bennett was, to put it simply, confused.

He had just finished a mission with you, being your support the whole entire way through. There had been an offering that had been posted on the tavern’s walls in dark, smudged text that caught his eye at an earlier time. It read that whoever could get rid of the new pop-up hilichurl camp that blocked the path to Liyue would receive a grand sum of Mora. Course, running low on money, Bennett had decided to take up the offer. They would be easy enough to take down, just a simple slash of his sword and a few burns here and there could get the job done in no time. However, there was a problem.

No one would come with him.

Bennett knew that he was very...loud. And he was energetic. And annoying. And, though he hated to admit it...he was unlucky.

Everything seemed stacked up against him. Everyone he turned to in the tavern took a simple glance at him and rejected the offer with no further questions asked. He would try to convince them, but they would simply get more annoyed at his stubbornness and shoo him away with a flick of a hand or some splash of beer to the face. It’s not like he could take the older adventurers out either, they could barely walk on their own two feet. They were so old that they certainly would have shriveled up in the sun if he brought them along. So there that option went, leaving him with practically nothing else to turn to.

But then, if he had no one to go with him, what would happen? Would he continue to be stuck in that tavern? No, he wouldn’t allow himself to waste away like that. He was meant to be out there, in a world that could supply him with the thrill and rush that his heart yearned for. The boy desired to be just as great of an adventurer as the ones who came before him, or perhaps, dare he dream, even greater than them. Bennett desired to be a legend. But being a legend could not be done alone, even if that was what Bennett determined he would forever be, deep in the back of his brain.

Which is why you were such an anomaly.

You were the last person he spoke to that night. He was a complete mess. His shirt was damp with beer and some white wine, his white locks were a birds nest with the goggles sliding off slowly, and his eyes looked devoid of life as he took a deep inhale and they brightened up again. This was his last chance. You were the one who was either going to make or break this plan.

“Hello stranger! I am the great Bennett, and I was wondering if you would be able to help assist me with a mission that was posted on the tavern walls. It’s about the hilichurl camp by Liyue! Although I am rather strong, I need some help so it’s done more efficiently and faster. I’m even willing to split the Mora with you that we make out of it! What do you say?” Bennett recited his lines again, as if he was in an interview of sorts. His leafy green eyes watched as you scrunched up your eyebrows, as if thinking and examining him. Your face was blank other than that, lips in a straight line and hand cupping your cheek. Bennett found it to be quite terrifying. It was such an intimidating look, in fact, that he was about to ask you to forget about it before you spoke first.

“Sure.” You stated simply, a smile forming on your face as you crossed your arms.

“Ahhh, understood, I’ll get goi- WAIT!” The pyro boy turned to look right at you as he gasped. His face was one of shock morphed with a cute, ecstatic look. One could compare it to a puppy of sorts. You were not meant to say yes. You were meant to be like everyone else and reject him. He was dumbfounded as he grabbed a hold of your shoulders and tilted his head.

“You’re not joking?!”

“Course not! Why would I do such a thing?” You rebuked before he giddily jumped up and down while pulling you up to a sweet hug. It was a gentle and firm one, though, he pulled away quickly after realizing he still wreaked of alcohol. You told him you didn’t mind it though, making him rub the back of his head sheepishly and laugh. You two would converse for the night, agreeing to meet up at the gate the next morning so he could lead the way to the camp and also split the mora gained evenly. After the small chat, you would leave the tavern to stay at the local inn for the night and get some rest. Bennett’s eyes were trained on you as the door then closed, realization hitting him like a truck: he found someone. He found a real person to take on a mission. Better yet, they were as gorgeous as they were strong. This was better than any dream he could have made up. Bennett decided he had to turn in for the night soon after you left, taking a spot in his cozy bed under the sheets. His eyes closed as the curtains rustled at the soft wind that blew through the window. The pyro’s last thought before going to bed was that he truly hoped that you would fulfill your end of the deal and show up.

And you kept your promise. You were there as the morning sun rose to reflect your beautiful skin, hair flowing gently in the light breeze as he ran up to you and froze. You looked powerful now that you were out of the tavern and he could see you properly. You had on your adventure gear, dressed appropriately for a mission that required taking out many enemies. What caught his attention, though, was your white cape with golden accents that flowed from behind. Flicking your hood down and off your head, your face was now fully visible as you watched him stare. He was adorable, like a little baby who was just discovering the world for the first time.

“You’re really gonna do this with me?” Bennett asked in wonder. His face was blank as a smirk landed itself on your features. You positioned yourself to stand upright, away from the wall you were leaning on as you held your weapon of choice in your dominant hand. As for the other, you outstretched it towards him with a grin.

“Lead the way.”

Bennett didn’t even have to think twice about it as he eagerly took your hand into his own gloved one and began to lead you out of the city and into the wilderness. He seemed to be very hyper from what you could tell, as he couldn’t seem to stop commenting on how he was destined for greatness, or how thankful he was that you were going to come along with him. He also bombarded you with questions about yourself as well, like if this was your first time in Mondstadt or what kind of element you had control over. He was easily excited, but especially when you told him that you were a traveler that had been moving around place to place to see the sights of the world. It was why you were so strong, you had defeated a wide range of enemies, great and small, on your journeys. Bennett was fascinated by that, drawing him to be more and more curious about you. Alas, the questions and storytelling had to wait. You two had arrived at the camp, and it was time to take some enemies down.

You two ended up making a fantastic duo of sorts. With his sword and experience, he was able to cut down enemies with ease. You did the same, your speed and agility outmatched as you two basically made a massacre out of the camp. His fire would spread through the long grass, and with the natural wind, spread quickly to begin burning it all down. You were quick to come to his aid when he would sometimes get backed against the rocks or a tree, helping him heal with some quick magic you had learned. It wasn’t anything special, but it was enough to keep him up and moving. With such precision and perseverance, your duo was able to defeat the camp with relative ease. However, both you and Bennett were still tired from fighting for so long. You two were out of breath as the fire died out, heaving for air as you gave him a head pat and grinned.

“You did amazing out there. You’re a talented pyro user as well, I’m impressed.” There you went again, making him all confused as he sat there. You just complimented him. A powerful traveler, that has practically defeated every sort of monster there is out there, was impressed by him. Bennett, the unlucky, was impressive? For the first time, he was rendered speechless as he looked at you. It was now night, the moon high in the sky as it illuminated your face. Oh goodness, you looked ethereal. The way the stars were reflected in your eyes, the way the gold of your cape sparkled and flowed behind you, the way you smiled at him, like he was the most handsome boy you had ever seen. The only thing that stopped the comfortable silence between you two was the fact that he shivered when a breeze brushed against his pale, scar littered skin. You snapped out of it and looked him up and down, noticing how a lot of his skin was exposed to the chilly night.

“Here, take this.” You told him as you unbuttoned your cape, taking it off your shoulders. With one swoop, you draped it over his own figure, being as gentle as possible as you buttoned it up again. Bennett was reduced to continuing to stay silent as you clothed him. You placed the hood up on top of his head, a hand on your hip as you grinned at him. It was a bit big on him but nonetheless, it was rather cute. You used your other hand to take his chin gently, making him look you in the eyes. He was rather happy that the hood cast a bit of a shadow, because his cheeks were flushed a hot pink as he was forced to look at you.

“Huh. Looks better on you than it does me.” You commented before he seemed to regain his ability to speak.

“You need this more than me! I-i’m literally a pyro user, I c-can heat myself-” You hushed him, letting go of his chin as you put a finger to his peach pink lips.

“Doesn’t matter. You shouldn’t waste your energy to heat up, especially since we have to walk back to town. I’ll be fine, I’ve been through worse weather situations.” He glanced down at your finger, and then back to you as you dropped your hand and began walking down the path again, back towards the city. Why did you have to be so, so...enchanting? And you were so smooth as well! He had never been so flustered when talking to someone, heck, he was the one who was meant to be doing most of the talking! Though, he supposed that him being talkative didn’t equate to being able to flirt. But something about the thought of you leaving made him pout. It was as if the butterflies were leaving his stomach, but they left him emptier than before.

Bennett refused to be lonely anymore. Not when he had you.

“Hey, darling!~ Would you stop standing there and staring off into space? I know I look wonderful tonight, but we gotta get a move on! We won’t be able to get to town and rest our weary bones if you keep this up!~” You called out to him, making him shake his head and refocus. Right, a bed. Sleep did sound rather good right now, along with a shower and something to quench his thirst. He ran and caught up to you, walking by your side as he grinned. He began to already ask about other missions that the two of you could do together, like gathering supplies for the alchemist or helping around the town for some spare Mora here and there. Bennett then stopped for a moment again, looking at you.

“Would you like to work together again?” There was a moment of silence before you nodded.

“I think I would. We make a great team.” Bennett then continued walking with you, as if time didn’t just stop for a second as he went back to his usual, bubbly nature. The more he thought about it, the happier it made him. More adventures to be made. More memories to be created. All with you at his side the entire time.

And you would make all the difference.

[downfordiluc]

Albedo x G/N reader.

No warnings needed. Just pure fluff.

---

Synopsis // you always felt as if Albedo's work was his priority, and yet, in a room full of experiments and results, all he sees is you.

Author's notes // My obsession with Albedo grows every day, send help. He's too beautiful for this world.

All works are entirely my own - downfordiluc (wattpad & tumblr)

---

Albedo had never been one who attached a tangible value to relationships with other people. Obviously, he valued professional relationships and cared about his family, but romance and friendship were never bonds he really sought after or felt a need to maintain. Any friendships he did consider himself to have were purely circumstantial and didn't venture past the boundaries of his workplace, and he was content with that; content with being alone. That was until he met you.

"Alone and lonely are not synonymous", was something he caught himself saying to Kaeya one time, who had pointed out that he was often the only person in his laboratory for hours, if not days on end. Truth be told though, Albedo quite enjoyed being by himself and even relished the time he spent being the only heartbeat in the room - unless his experiments ventured into living organisms. He tended to drown out anyone talking to him while he was concentrating regardless, preferring to communicate with people like Sucrose and Timaeus through paperwork and statistics, rather than sentences. And yet, right now, there were two heartbeats in the room, as well as a slight whining sound, as he got nudged in the shins.

"You said you'd be done with this an hour agooo!", the dig in his leg was so soft that he didn't even glance upwards from the test tube he was concentrated on swirling in front of him - bright aqua slowly fading to a crystal clear liquid, sparkling as it spiralled.

Without warning, a warm hand was placed upon yours, his thumb running along the top of your wrist, leaving a trail of warmth as it traveled. For a man who wasn't very fond of socializing, he knew how to say a thousand words with just one movement, and you knew he was sorry for taking so long. His work was what you always considered his priority in life, and keeping realistic about this and knowing you could probably never take that place was what kept you sane on nights like this. Nights where he promised to watch the sunset with you, but the stars were now twinkling in the night sky through the small window of his lab.

The way he watched the colours whirl and merge into one was an alluring sight, his eyes transfixed on the liquid, scanning it inquisitively, and you noticed the colour of the substance was almost a direct match to that of his beautiful, twinkling irises. It was the way he looked at you. The curiosity and fascination flickering behind his eyes, burning in his brain, made your knees weak, as he would scan you up and down. Feelings of doubt and anxiety would always follow in tow, but he stopped them in their tracks.

"You look beautiful today."

Fingers intertwining with yours pulled you delicately out of your daydream, as your eyes flicked up to his own, giving you that exact, disarming look, as you noticed his work pushed aside. Alchemy is purely scientific and has no real link to matters of the heart, and yet you could swear he had cracked the code of love too. His gaze felt calculated and precise, melting you in an instant like one of his experiments. You were an experiment to him in a way - an experiment in romance - and you really hoped he was satisfied with the results.

You knew you were.

Heat spread itself across your face, a pale pink hue dusting across the bridge of your nose and cheeks, as you registered his spontaneous compliment. It wasn't often you saw Albedo smile, so you cherished the fleeting moments when his lips curled up and his eyes glittered that little bit more. Just like that, any lingering frustration you had with him for taking so long faded out of existence, leaving only your infatuation with the one you could proudly call your own. He truly was captivating, and the best part was, he had absolutely no idea. He had no idea that he was beautiful too.

"I made you something, [Y/N].". You pouted slightly as his hand left your own, missing the warmth, as you watched him rummage through the draw on the left of his desk. In his hands, he produced a crystalline bottle. The was glass a pale hue of yellow, reminiscent of his vision glowing faintly under the star on his neck, a mystery you were yet to solve. The way it refracted light scattered little flickers of light all over Albedo's face, like luminescent freckles, and yet they were gone as quickly as they appeared, as he placed the bottle into your turned out hand. The liquid in the bottle glistened similarly to his experiment from earlier, as everything clicked into place.

Holding the bottle up to your nose, you smelled the fragrance of what was inside. Until that moment, you didn't know it was possible for something to smell like warmth, and yet that was exactly what this bottle seemed to encapsulate. Maple, cinnamon, and the smell of autumn captured you lightly, lulling you into an almost drunken sense of happiness. It smelled like cuddles in front of an open fire, but also early morning walks, watching the dew glisten on browning leaves that were slowly cascading from the trees.

September 22nd was the first day of autumn last year, and the day you met Albedo. Light brush strokes adorning the canvas in front of him as he merged hues of orange into hues of pink, perfectly capturing the sunset decorating the sky in front of him. Most people would rush to finish before the sun laid to rest for the night, and yet he took his time, a level of preciseness in each flick of his wrist that you couldn't help but watch, following every movement he made.

"Can I paint you?", the blonde man was now returning your stare, his face void of emotion but his eyes full of eagerness, as he pushed past any defences you had, leaving you with no other response than to say yes.

"How would you like me to stand?" you queried, panicked thoughts darting around your head as you thought you would do nothing but ruin his beautiful artwork. Had he simply pitied you?

"Just like that, you look perfect as is."

At the time, Albedo had no romantic intentions behind this sentence, and yet it had you mesmerised. On this crisp, Autumn evening, you became besotted with the man in front of you, and from this moment on, you would be his muse.

Soft footsteps circled the desk, the sound barely filling the room, as Albedo stood behind you, trapping you in your chair, as you could faintly feel him pressed against your back.

"Albedo?" you questioned, as you felt his breath on your neck, an involuntary shudder following in suit. His presence was short-lived, however, as he trailed his fingers down your arm, goosebumps forming on the tracks he left, as his fingertips landed on the bottle he had given you. He was ethereal.

"Do you like it?"

His enchanting voice hummed against your skin, as you could feel his hair tickling the side of your neck, his lips hovering just inches away from your ear. It took every inch of your willpower to not turn your head and kiss him, and yet you stood your ground, relishing the feeling of being this close with him, knowing these moments were often transient.

"I love it." You spoke softly, controlling your voice that threatened to waver due to his affectionate manner. You had been watching him for hours, as he barely paid notice to you. You had analysed his every feature time and time again today alone, watching every shining hair that had slipped out of his braid and fallen into his face, wanting nothing more than to brush it behind his ear. Luckily this was one of your favourite ways to spend your time, watching him work, and admiring his devotion. He was dedicated, loyal and committed, and these qualities went farther than just his work, which left you feeling secure and loved every night that you slept alone, the other side of the bed growing cold without his presence.

Without warning, a light mist fell upon your exposed neck and collarbone, yet again eliciting goosebumps, as the scent of the perfume he had created made its way up to you, softening you instantly as a sigh of pure euphoria escaped your previously smiling lips. This smile only widened, as he placed a delicate kiss behind your left ear, stroking your hair lightly as he did, reminding you of how much you longed to do so as the hours passed. The spot his lips had rested felt as though it glowed almost as brightly as the vision on his chest did, as it radiated heat long after he had departed.

"I love you." softly escaped your lips, as you turned to face him, looking up at the man who made you feel as though you were floating on delirium and bliss. His head tilted ever so slightly to the side, and yet again, he gave you that stare. The one that made you feel like the results of an experiment, every small feature being perused. You wouldn't be surprised if he had facial expressions down to a science, knowing exactly what every movement of all 42 muscles in a person's face meant. If that was the case, he could see just how in love with him you were at that moment.

"You didn't think I'd forget the anniversary of the day we met, did you?"

Like a deer in headlights, your eyes widened and your lips parted ever so slightly in shock, as Albedo gave you a soft yet sultry look, a smirk creeping upon his lips. How could he read you like a book, and yet you couldn't decipher a single thing he was thinking?

"You didn't forget, did you, [Y/N]?"

Most people would have looked offended, or more light-hearted individuals might have feigned said offence, and yet Albedo's face didn't move an inch, as he kept his gaze transfixed upon you.

"N-No, of course I didn't. I just didn't want you to feel bad if you had.", you stuttered when you were nervous, and this man had left you nothing but a ball of anxiety, as you had almost forgotten to give him his own gift. From your pocket, you produced a small pin of Prithiva Topaz, the shape identical to the star on his neck that you adored so much; a testament to how much of an enigma this man was to you. Slowly rising from your chair, you placed one hand on his chest, grasping at the belt that crossed over his body. Where the black leather of his belt met the gold embellishments that came over his shoulder, there was an empty circle, and so you pinned on the brooch, directly in the centre, your hands lingering ever so slightly, not wanting to take them off of him.

"I love you too." he whispered above you, which led to you looking up at him, your eyes full of endearment for your one and only. A lock of his hair hovered just above your eyes, and so you gave in to your day-long wish, reaching up and tucking it lightly behind his ear, stroking along the strand as your hand left. And yet he caught it, holding it lightly in his own, and kissing it lightly, just above your knuckles. You could not get enough of the feeling.

"Now, I hate to do this to you, but I really must finish this research, but you're free to do whatever you want with my hair as I do.".

Your lover quickly transformed back into the alchemist he prided himself in being, as he sat back down in his chair, pulling your own next to his. Once again, you found yourself wondering how he could read your every thought and emotion with almost frightening accuracy, and you settled on the conclusion that his genius was simply immeasurable by your own standards. All that mattered to you was that if he truly had the power to decrypt your every thought, he was fully aware of the overflowing feelings for him that filled your beating heart daily.

And so, for the rest of the night, your hands brushed through his hair, braiding it once, twice, thrice, as he leaned ever so slightly into your touch, giving you reassuring hums as he shuffled the papers below him. Suddenly, watching the moon rise wasn't so bad, as long as this moment lasted until the sun came up, and you could watch the sunrise together.

[jamiemackenziefraser]

All That Was Fair

Chapter 23: Wings of a Flutterby

Summary: “Jamie had always considered the presence of a flutterby to be a blessing.”

Read on AO3

Read chp 23 on tumblr below the cut

Previous, master list, next

A/n: After seeing a very cute thread on twitter about how Jamie canonically calls butterflies "flutterbys," I had to make the addition to this chapter because it was too soft to pass up. So, inspired by @Sassenach7471, thanks for reminding me of this sweetness!

Chapter 23: Wings of a Flutterby

***

Claire lay on her stomach in front of Jamie in the middle of the living room floor, her arms folded underneath her head as she lazed. Jamie, for his part, sat cross-legged behind her, completely and utterly enamored. 

The dress she was wearing had a large open back, covered only by tiny straps, which left her beautiful, translucent wings exposed. Jamie’s fingers were delicately tracing the edge of them where they lay flat on her back. They were so incredibly soft, so delicate, that Jamie could only bring himself to give them the barest hint of a touch. But he was entranced. 

He’s always been told never to touch the wings of a flutterby for fear of damaging them, so when Claire had given him permission to touch hers (after he'd gaped open-mouthed at her in that dress), it felt so deliciously forbidden. Even though he’d never exactly touched a flutterby’s wings before, he’d felt them flap against his skin as the flutterby hovered around him, the flitting sensation of softness before it was gone, out of reach. Claire’s wings felt much the same as he’d imagine a flutterby’s would if he could touch them in this way, only Claire kept hers still and on display for him to pay due reverence. 

Jamie had always seen the presence of a flutterby as a blessing— if they were near him, it was because of their choice, not his. He remembered as a kid being out in his mother’s garden, sitting as still as possible in hopes that one might land on him in passing. 

Claire was much the same. An ethereal creature that somehow had landed on his life, had chosen him… him… over anything else, giving herself fully and utterly without hesitation. 

Growing more bold, he trailed a finger down across one of the silvery veins that stretched across her wing. Claire gave a little shudder, making Jamie pause, but it was followed immediately by a contented sigh. 

“How does it feel?” Jamie asked as he continued to wander the surface of her wing with gentle exploratory touches. 

“Hmmn… nice,” Claire hummed. 

Jamie spared a glance up at her face to find her eyes were closed. Her cheek was squished just slightly where it lay against her arm, and Jamie nearly melted at the sight.  

“Like when I touch yer skin?” he probed. In demonstration, he brought his fingers to the skin of her back in between her wings, smoothing them down along the bumps of her spine. 

She shivered again, shifting her head, and then answered dreamily, “no. It’s different. I can’t really explain, it’s like… my wings are more… sensitive.” 

Jamie hummed in acknowledgement and returned his touch to her wings. They fluttered a little at the unexpected sensation, flitting against his hands, and that only served to make him more eager. As they settled again, Jamie began drawing absent circles over the surface with his fingertips. 

They weren’t paper thin, but still so heartbreakingly delicate. Their golden hue seemed to shimmer in the light from the window, although it was soft and barely noticeable if he hadn’t been studying them so closely. He couldn't get enough. 

It was unreal. 

His body was nearly trembling with excitement over this strange experience. As relaxed as Claire was, Jamie was pulsing with energy, thrilled by this newfound intimacy. He could touch her forever and never tire of it— wings or no. The thought that this strange creature was his awed him to no end... 

Absorbed as he was, he barely even noticed Claire was moving until she had sat up, her wings fluttering freely as she did. Jamie drew back, not wanting to hurt her as they moved, and he sat watching like a besotted fool as she turned to him. 

Her eyes seemed glazed with serenity, her whole posture carefree and relaxed. His touch had melted her into a puddle of soft warmth, and Jamie came to the realization that she was about to be all over him the second before she did just that.

She moved slowly but nonetheless insistently, and Jamie found himself absolutely covered in faerie a second later. She had straddled him and pushed him down on the floor as Jamie obediently relented. He let her drape herself over him as he leaned back, staring up at her in enrapturement. The second he was laying on the ground, Claire spread out at length upon him, she purred, “It’s your turn.” 

A dhia. 

“What?” He sputtered, his brain having halted all proper function at the feeling of her body spread on top of him. 

Lord give him strength. 

“It’s your turn,” she repeated, “On your front.” 

Jamie’s brain snapped back into his head as he realized what she was asking. Getting himself in check through some monumental force of will, Jamie managed to smile up at the hooded eyes above him. 

“Lass, I canna turn over when ye’re on top of me.” 

Claire was too tranquil to laugh or flush. She just hummed in acknowledgement, brushed her nose against Jamie’s once (making his wame twist), and then removed herself from his body. 

Jamie mourned the loss instantly, but he turned over onto his stomach as ordered, mirroring the position Claire had just been in, lounging on his front. 

As soon as he was settled, soft wee hands slid under his tee shirt, pushing it up. Then, lips met skin. 

He had to resist the impulse to jerk away as she kissed the scars, her lips warm and tender. No one had ever touched him fondly there— before her— and never in his life had he imagined someone kissing him the ugly evidence of his pain. 

Her lips touched the scarred flesh again, this time further up, and Jamie shivered. Gooseflesh broke out along his arms as her hand smoothed down the length of his back. She took her time, her touch gentle and intentional. 

“You’re so beautiful,” she said reverently. 

Every insecurity in Jamie screamed at him to deny it, to say something to the contrary, or even just joke about getting her eyesight checked. But the next brush of lips made the words die in his throat. He simply remained silent as tears gathered in his eyes. 

Her fingers traced the criss-cross of his scars for a long time, easing the tension from his muscles with her soft touch until Jamie was just as relaxed as his faerie. 

He wasn’t expecting it when a solid weight rested on his back, and he realized she’d laid her head down on him. 

“I love you,” she said softly, her fingers still tracing over his shoulder blade, “all of you.” 

Jamie wished that he were sitting up— or anywhere that he wasn’t trapped like this— so he could embrace her as he answered, “that means more than ye know, mo nighean donn.” 

Her hand smoothed back and forth over his side in response. He could feel her breathing— slow and deep— against him. 

“Dinna fall asleep on me there, lass,” he joked quietly. 

“I’m not.” She answered so softly that he wasn’t entirely convinced of the validity of the statement. “I just want you to know that I love every part of you.” 

The warmth in Jamie’s chest could have melted even the most ancient ice. Claire’s loving his scars couldn’t take away his insecurities— couldn’t magically heal the years of hating his body— but she gave him hope that one day he might be able to love himself with even a fraction of the intensity with which she loved him. 

Jamie pushed up on his elbows (Claire letting out a displeased noise at his disruption), and he hastily sat up to take her into his arms as he’d been wishing to do ever since she’d begun her ministrations. 

She went willingly as he pulled her into his chest, and they stayed pressed together as two parts of the same whole, serenity wrapped around them with the comfort of a blanket. 

*** 

Later that day, Jamie finally had the chance to introduce Claire to the wonders of literature. After finding out weeks ago that the fair folk didn’t have a written language, Jamie had been positively itching to introduce Claire to some of his favorite books. The choice had been brutal—Jamie being the book lover that he was— but finally, he had decided on Lord of the Rings. 

As soon as the decision had been made, he’d begun to prepare Claire, telling her everything he could think of about reading and books and human literature so she’d be ready before hearing the story. 

When the time finally came— and Claire had draped herself over Jamie’s lap, holding onto his neck and laying her head on his shoulder so she could stare the book as he read— Jamie found it rather hard to concentrate on the words. He had to block out her touches and reactions in order to give her the proper experience of hearing him read. After not too long, Jamie began to get the hang of it— it’d been a long while since he’d read aloud to anyone, but the story came alive as he grew more comfortable. 

Claire had hummed with excitement the whole time, stifling her wonderment into Jamie’s shoulder as he read with enthusiasm. 

“You’re a wonderful story teller, Jamie,” she praised during a break at the end of a chapter. 

“Thank ye, lass, but it isna so hard when the story is just here in front of me.” 

“You’re getting all that story from there?” she asked, pointing dubiously at the page. 

“Aye, much easier than remembering the whole thing,” he answered. 

She’d pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You humans are so sweet,” she said fondly, “we just treasure everything worth telling inside of us.” 

“Oh lass,” Jamie said, “I canna wait until ye hear more. There’s so much out there, more than we could ever remember ourselves. I’ll make a bookworm out of ye yet.” 

Getting back to business, Jamie squeezed Claire closer with his free arm and resumed reading. Her attention soon shifted from the page (which was meaningless to her) and instead rested on Jamie’s face as he read. He found himself distracted by her regard and her wandering hands that were doing their best to draw him away from his reading. 

“A nighean,” he said at one point, looking away from the book to level her with a mock stern look. Her hand froze over his nose where she’d been tracing up and down the bridge of it, “I canna concentrate on reading.” 

“Oh,” she said, abashed, withdrawing her hands, “sorry.” 

“Are ye enjoying the story so far, a leannan?” he asked. He had to prepare himself for the possibility that he was boring her, although hearing her say out loud that she didn’t like Lord of the Rings would probably break his heart. 

“I love it!” she exclaimed quickly, straightening herself against him, “it’s amazing. I’m sorry, please keep going.” 

“Okay,” he chuckled, “maybe jes’ let me focus on the reading for a bit, aye?” 

*

After they’d finished their section of reading— Jamie closing the book as if parting from an old friend— Claire pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you for telling me your story,” she said softly. 

He couldn’t help but laugh at hearing it referred to as “his,” but he didn’t have it in his heart to correct her outright. 

“We’ll read more of Tolkien’s story another time. Would ye like that?” 

She nodded enthusiastically, her curls bouncing and her smile melting his heart all over again. How could anyone ever look at her and not love her?— he wondered. He would spend all day, every day pouring out his soul just to see a glimpse of that smile. 

“Would ye tell me a story of the fair folk?” Jamie asked suddenly, longing to experience a part of her world as she was experiencing his. 

She raised up from where her head had just rested back on his shoulder. 

“I would love to tell you a story, Jamie,” she said, but something about the tone of her voice seemed… off. Was she sad? Had bringing up her home been a mistake? “But later. I don’t know, I… I don’t really feel much like storytelling at the moment.”

“That’s alright, a leannan,” Jamie reassured, “I just want ye to ken how much I care about yer stories too.” 

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her head underneath his jaw, squeezing tightly. 

“I love you, Jamie,” she said. 

“I love you more, mo nighean donn.”

***

Next

[whereflowersbloom]

Morning after

The smell of freshly baked croissants and coffee woke her up. Raven hardly ever felt so rested, even after spending an hour meditating before going to sleep, opening her eyes and getting accustomed to the morning light of the sun that illuminated her room through the windows. She turned on her back and nestled in this new, previously unknown feeling. She was strangely calm as if everything was in the right place, and every possible problem remained in the past.

Maybe that’s what genuine serenity feels like, she thought to herself.

But how did she end up in this situation? They became friends. Best friends, even. They talked about everything including their most intimate thoughts. She told herself it was enough or deceived herself into believing so. There was no line for them to cross but a secret and deep part of her soul definitely understood and sought the need to feel wanted and loved and fulfilled. Not like she hadn’t thought of Damian that way before. There was such a terrible tension between them sometimes when they were both sitting on her the sofa watching old classic films or reading books they both enjoyed. She craved the heat of Damian’s embrace. She remembered how it felt to have him curled around her, how gently his thumb stroked her cheek, how his muscles flexed against her, and she wishes he would hold her again.

Damian was like a compass for Raven if she felt like she might lose her way, and that kind of thing never happened to her. Not often at least.

As usual Damian went jogging as it had become his habit thanks to Jon, who craved the sunlight as soon as he opened his eyes, persistently asking him to be his partner. A surprising string elbow in the ribs by Jon gave him the second push to voice his feelings for Raven. Later, he visited a local bakery that made exquisite chocolate croissants, as he memorized Raven’s favorites. Then he returned home with a sudden thought it was the high time to turn his quiet feelings for Raven into something serious. He wanted to fool himself at first, but as it turned out, he was too fucking smart to believe a single word of the downright falsehood he made up in his mind in order to excuse himself from the imminent truth. He was in love with her.

She was about to get out of bed to stretch her muscles when Damian walked into the room carrying a tray with breakfast: hot coffee, steaming Earl Grey, croissants and juicy autumnal fruit. She wanted to approach him, wrap her arms around him and kiss him on the neck, the sensitive spot she discovered last night, but they were not yet at that stage of the relationship. As the matter of fact, she did not know exactly who they were to each other now. Maybe nothing had changed. After all, it had been just a few kisses last night, letting go, a carpet diem kind of moment. Maybe Damian didn’t want things to change between them.

"Good morning.” Damian muttered, sending her one of his radiant, sincere smiles that made her legs weak. "Did you sleep well?"

“Yes. Better than most days. I didn’t know if you would come back...” She kept her own voice soft, matching his tone, afraid to burst the strange bubble they found themselves in. Controlling her anxiety was easier said than done.

“I simply needed time to clear my mind.” His expression was solemn. “We must discuss last night’s event.” He mumbled under his breath, voice deadly calm, a convincing facade, fighting to distract the both of them from his own wild whirlwind of emotions as he left the tray at the bedside table. No woman in his life had ever truly enchanted him in the way she did. He would not give her up.

Her lower lip trembled slightly. She repeated her mantra over ten times until she calmed her nerves. Damian was her closest friend, and she cared about not ruining the special bond between them. They said it was easier to move on as long as you were merely lovers, but what when you are so much more. She felt like a teenager who was falling in love for the first time. Not that she was that much older at the age of 19. She had experience in meaningless romances, short-lived, Wally, Garfield, but she knew nothing about true love. Their bond was beyond comprehensible lines of poetry. More than it being undefinable, it was the freeness to be defined, the way as open interpretations take you.

“We don’t have to to this now. In fact, nothing has to change.” She spoke tentatively, unsure whether she’s more concerned how this would shape their friendship or embarrassed she let herself cross a line. Slowly passing around the room folding her arms across her chest.

The distress was heavy in her chest, stirred with a fog of uncertainty.

At this, Damian’s eyes sparkled with determination and objection regarding her statement. Before she registered what he was doing, he grabbed her hand. “I do not want to leave things exactly as they used to be. Not before last night.” He held her gaze and rubbed his thumb over the backside of her hand, reveling in the softness of her skin.

There’s a fluttering in her stomach, and she’s taken aback at the intensity of it. Butterflied filled with hope and wish. There was hope of light after all darks, hope of happiness after grief, hope of a new colorful sunrise, a chapter to be rewritten.

“It was just a kiss..” In a trice, breaking off the contact. She lied and immediately regretted it. Damian stood next to her with a disbelieving expression on his face. There was a hint of indignation but it vanished quickly.

“You and I both know it meant more than a kiss. I do not need the gift of empathy to see it.” Damian stated sharply, his features hardened at his resolution. He was tired of constantly feeling this weight on his shoulders. What was the point of deceiving themselves any longer? If he didn’t know better, he would say she was avoiding him like a plague.

Letting out a breath she had been holding in since Damian entered her bedroom, Raven felt a weight being lifted off her chest. “Damian...I” She started, but never managed to finish interrupted by an unexpected question.

"Do you have any plans for today?" He left the question hanging in the air.

With brows furrowed in confusion she found herself unable to command her mouth to utter anything. Her heart thudded out of her chest. The normally unflappable last daughter of Azarath knocked for a loop by the close proximity of her stunning teammate.

Raven parted her lips and closed them again.

“It seems we are free to do as we please today. Clear schedule. No training or missions. He shrugged casually, willing his breath to remain steady, years of boiling emotions teetering over the edge of his elegant, suave composure

Raven blinked. Amethysts widening.

“I thought we could go somewhere. You and I” Damian licked his lips, swallowing the nerves in his chest as her eyes widen a fraction at his proposal. "There's a new Parisian café in the city I think you might like.”

Her lips curved up into a sweet smile, growing wider and more radiant as she thought of sitting in Parisian cafe with Damian, enjoying a minute of bliss to be in the other’s company.

“Are you asking me on a date, Damian Wayne?” She blurted with a momentary astonished look, even as she realized the implication of his words. Was this truly happening? She asked herself mentally.

“I’m courting you properly, Raven. So yes, I’m asking you out.” His shoulders ease from their tensed position, subconsciously hunched in nerves to what she’d respond.

It was surreal, talking about what a few minutes ago had been unbearable chains, restrained by her own fears and inner demons. Ethereal strands of thread that could be snapped by a mere jerk of fingers. He wanted more. He wanted her.

“I don’t know, Damian.” She bit her lip still indecisive, gaze away from his face. Once again mind invaded by intrusive negative thoughts. What if it didn’t work? What if she lost control? The numerous what if’s haunted her like never ending nightmares.

Taking a step closer, something in his emerald sparked with an idea and firmness of not quitting. “Any chance I can persuade you to change your mind then?” He crooned in her ear, nipping at it just slightly, taking her breath away. She wondered how long she could resist his gravitational pull for so long.

Raven hesitated for a good few seconds before finally resigning herself to the fact that whatever she did. She couldn’t fight this anymore. She loved him. “I can think of a few ways.” She was surprised at her own boldness, snaking slender arms around his torso. He pressed his built body against hers closer, placing tender, teasing kisses along her neck. Whilst she was glad that he was enjoying himself, she was going to completely lose it if she remained flush against him for much longer. Her entire core heated with want for him. He smirked at the effect he had on her with his natural charm. This confident, cocky air. This was so him and content and not bothering to mask it. No filters.

“Is that a yes?” He whispered and there was no missing the boyish grin spread over his tanned cheeks. Hooking a finger under her chin and brought her face level with his own.

“I suppose you earned a date, Mr. Wayne.” She laughed feverishly. Gently, stroking his palm with her thumb. Enjoying the calloused yet silky skin of an accomplished swordsman and fighter.

An audible sigh left Damian’s mouth as his muscles relaxed with her nestled in his arms. She could sense his relief. Yes, perhaps a change could be good, opening herself to feel again. A new chapter of light and joy.

Notes: I know I have disappeared and haven’t updated in forever but I’m still sick and weak. Also working on the fanzine project. I should be done in a week though. But meanwhile have this short damirae. Not my best but I hope you enjoy it 💖💖💜💜

@deepbreadlover @tweepunkgrl @alerialblu @chromium7sky @kallura-juniblade @cayeeast

I miss you all and youre all welcome to message me. I feel a bit disconnected from the world.

Also I’d like to use to wish @shewhowillnotbenamed1 a happy birthday!! Thank you for blessing us with your beautiful wiring and your friendship 😊😊🥰💜💖

[teatimecrumpetsandsugar]

ethereal (voltron fantasy/royalty AU) (set up; part zero)

Heyo! It’s your friendly neighborhood Voltron fanfic aficionado- now your friendly neighborhood Klance writer but that’s honestly besides the point I don’t even know why you’d bring up my increasing obsession with them in this Klance fanfic that I swear everyone else will be in, too-

Today, I’ll be writing from a fantasy royalty AU with my favorite show cast ever, even though it may or may not be solely because I want to put water elemental!king!Lance in pretty dresses and makeup and just go crazy with my descriptions of gowns and other things.

I imagine, here, Lance would be from a kingdom with strong ties to Pidge’s kingdom, who has strong ties with Hunk’s kingdom, making them a powerful trifecta. I also imagine that Keith and Lance’s kingdoms are on very thin ice with one another, so Pidge encourages Lance to sit down with fire elemental!king!Keith. 

I also imagine that Pidge’s kingdom is closely allied with Allura’s and that the two of them grew up together, while she didn’t meet Hunk or Lance until she became queen. Also, I’d like to have my beloved Ruler Pidge go by she/they pronouns, simply because I see a lot of myself in the way she dresses and carries herself and I actually believe that these pronouns would fit her, alongside all pronouns.

Hunk and Lance likely grew up together in a very close ally ship and continue to be close friends well into adulthood because that’s just how they are. I can imagine Lance is very vaguely aware of Allura’s kingdom and would never dream of picking a fight with hers since, by default, allying with Pidge made him allies with Allura, but he probably doesn’t know her very well pre the canon timeline because I kind of want to build that relationship from the ground up to make up for what the show did to me-

Keith is definitely allied with Shiro, and Pidge and Shiro were always friends through her older brother, who, along with her father, abdicated from the throne and joined an adventurer’s guild instead (because they believed that Pidge would be a better fit for a ruler and decided that, given how they are, reconnaissance and exploration fit them better. She agreed with this insight, deciding to rule the kingdom the best way she knew how). Shiro, being a much more experienced king and friends with their brother, likely prepared them for the role as they grew into it; the two are on friendly terms, but allied isn’t exactly the right term as none of the people in their alliance knew Keith, so they weren’t sure they could ally with him. 

Lance met Keith at a gala years into his reign; they did not get along.

The system of Magic here will likely be dictated by what element one is born in the kingdom of, (i.e., Lance’s kingdom being the Aqua Kingdom, Pidge’s being the Spiritus Kingdom) and the strength of it in each person will be chosen based on a random set of variables that usually depends on the mood of the Gods corresponding to each element.

Lance- Water (Aqua Kingdom)

Keith- Fire (Ignis Kingdom)

Pidge- Life (Spiritus Kingdom)

Hunk- Earth (Terra Kingdom)

Shiro- Moon (Luna Kingdom)

Allura- Light (Lux Kingdom)

I imagine the reason an alliance is called for with Keith and Shiro’s kingdoms is because a traitor to Allura’s kingdom, either Lotor is planning on starting an entire mutiny with the ranks he’s managed to gather and then, consequently, conquer all of the rest of the kingdoms by force in the name of a long-dead kingdom- the Tenebris kingdom. His parents having died in the midst of a total economic crash caused by a codependent relationship with Allura’s kingdom whilst it was under her father’s rule, he was taken in by the state of Lux by Allura’s request, since they grew up together; unfortunately Lotor held lingering feelings of resentment- towards Lux, for causing the destruction of the only thing he could’ve ever considered his own by right, and towards his parents for always making him feel as if he was of no worth. He wants to conquer the entire world just to prove to himself that he is worth something, though, unfortunately, he’s on a path straight to death.

Might redeem him, might kill him off, might exile him- who knows at this point?

Hunk, I imagine, was a commoner who won the title of king through a series of magic-based trials (upon the death of the last ruler) and now keeps his entire family in the palace with him, using his title to take care of his family and citizens as a benevolent ruler. This likely happened when he was quite young- likely when he was 9 or 10, since magic is an innate thing and, in this kingdom, it’s tested in the youngest members of the kingdom in order to deem who is the most connected to their Goddess Terra.

Allura inherited her title when her own father died in the conflict with Tenebris- he went to battle with the people they’d unintentionally doomed in order to protect his daughter and his people, and died in the process; similar to her story in Voltron except her kingdom survives and Lotor and a select few survivors of the Galra become refugees.

Keith became king by beating the previous king’s son in a battle- his mother, being one of the higher ups in the government, sent word to him that the prince didn’t want to be king, so Keith wound up challenging him for the title. He won, successfully making his way into the world of prestige and getting closer to his mother. The prince left the kingdom shortly after- it’s believed that he ran away to be with someone, but no one is quite sure. All anyone knows is that he’s happy.

Lance wound up being king at a really young age- I’m imagining that, prior to his reign, his kingdom was incredibly strictly patriarchal. The previous king likely only had daughters, and the day of his death, Lance was born with incredibly powerful water magic. As a result, at the age of 6 years old, he was forcibly taken from his poor family and raised strictly to be a perfect king- however, he still saw his sister Veronica frequently in secret, the two of them sneaking around to eat baked goods and try on dresses together. When the palace staff found out, they tightened security and warned Veronica that she was no longer allowed to see him unless she wanted to be publicly executed. After his coronation (at age 8), however, he started making drastic changes to the laws that made the laws against commoners interacting with royalty more lax, and, once allowed to dress himself, started wearing dresses and makeup because it reminded him of home and made him feel as beautiful as he knew he was. He gets quite homesick quite often, and he’s still battling to get his family into the palace with him- he has, however, stripped the kingdom of its strict patriarchy. He constantly tells the kingdom that he hopes to one day pass the throne down to his own future daughter and still keeps the three princesses as his trusted advisors because he believes what happened to them was horribly unjust. The story will be told primarily from his perspective.

Shiro became ruler of his kingdom by fighting his way through gladiator ranks when he was only thirteen, winning the entire kingdom by brute force alone and leaving him with a lot more experience and trauma than he’d have liked. Being the oldest of the current generation of rulers and having inherited a kingdom that was closely related to Pidge’s and Keith’s, he guided them both through the process of becoming a ruler and the process of ruling, no matter how difficult it gets. It’s taken far longer with Keith than it has Pidge, since Pidge was raised a royal and has an innate sense of leadership and Keith is... interesting at the whole being a royal thing. Shiro, having grown up with Keith’s mother on the streets of the kingdom of Tenebris, was more than happy to take Keith under his wing- it helps the both of them come out of their shells more, so they have a mutual appreciation for one another.

I imagine this world will be vaguely futuristic and medieval at the same time- they’ll be able to have video conferences and reach other via communicators, holographic calls, things of that nature; but they’ll also be pretty old-fashioned in their manners of dress, their social systems, their currencies, and the vast majority of their laws. I hope that makes sense.

I wonder if it’s visible here that I spent three hours winging this and started getting more and more into it as I went, or if it’s obvious that I spend most of my time working with really obscure fantasy concepts. 

BAHDHAAHAHA I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS- 

If you’ve got any suggestions for relationship dynamics (platonic, romantic, or otherwise), any pitches for traits you think the characters may have based on their slightly altered backstories, or any feedback in general, feel free to share- I hope you all find this as fascinating as I did while I was writing it!

Also, @keefsteefs It’s happening, I’m doing it, it’s gonna be so fricking awesome-

[geshertzarmeod]

Favorite Books of 2020

I wanted to put together a list! I read 74 new books this year, and I keep track of that on Goodreads - feel free to add or follow me if you want to see everything! I’m going to focus on the highlights, and the books that stuck with me personally in one way or another, in approximate order. Also, all but two of them (#5 and #7 on the honorable mention list) are queer/trans in some way. Links are to Goodreads, but if you’re looking to get the books, I suggest your library, the Libby app using your library, your local bookstore, or Bookshop.

The Faggots & Their Friends Between Revolutions by Larry Mitchell, illus. by Ned Asta (originally published 1977). I had a hard beginning of the year and was in a work environment where my queerness was just not welcomed or wanted. I read this in the middle of all of that, and it helped me so much. I took this book with me everywhere. I read it on planes. I read it on the bus, and on trains, and at shul. I showed it to friends... sometimes at shul, or professional development conferences. It healed my soul. Now I can’t find it and might get a new copy. When I reviewed it, in February, I wrote: “I think we all need this book right now, but I really needed this book right now. Wow. This book is magic, and brings back a sense of magic and beauty to my relationship with the world.” Also I bought my copy last July, in a gay bookstore on Castro St. in SF, and that in itself is just beautiful to me. (Here’s a post I made with some excerpts)

Once & Future duology, especially the sequel, Sword in the Stars, by A.R. Capetta and Cory McCarthy. Cis pansexual female King Arthur Ari Helix (she's the 42nd reincarnation and the first female one) in futuristic space with Arab ancestry (but like, from a planet where people from that area of earth migrated to because, futuristic space) works to end Future Evil Amazon.com Space Empire with her found family with a token straight cis man and token white person. Merlin is backwards-aging so he's a gay teenager with a crush and thousands of years of baggage. The book’s entire basis is found family, and it's got King Arthur in space. And the sequel hijacks the original myth and says “fuck you pop culture, it was whitewashed and straightwashed, there were queer and trans people of color and strong women there the whole time.” Which is like, my favorite thing to find in media, and a big part of why I love Xena so much. It’s like revisionist history to make it better except it’s actually probably true in ways. Anyway please read these books but also be prepared for an absolutely absurd and wild ride. Full disclosure though, I didn’t love the first book so much, it’s worth it for the sequel!

The Wicker King by K. Ancrum. This book hurt. It still hurts. But it was so good. It took me on a whole journey, and brought me to my destination just like it intended the whole time. The author’s note at the end made me cry! The sheer NEED from this book, the way the main relationship develops and shifts, and how you PERCEIVE the main relationship develops and shifts. I’m in awe of Ancrum’s writing. If you like your ships feral and needy and desperate and wanting and D/S vibes and lowkey super unhealthy but with the potential, with work, to become healthy and beautiful and right, read this book. This might be another one to check trigger warnings for though.

The Entirety of The Daevabad Trilogy by S.A. Chakraborty. I hadn’t heard of this series until this year, when a good friend recommended it to me. It filled the black hole in me left by Harry Potter. The political and mystical/fantasy world building is just *chef’s kiss* - the complexity! The morally grey, everyone’s-done-awful-things-but-some-people-are-still-trying-to-do-good tapestry! The ROMANCE oh my GOD the romance. If I’m absolutely fully invested in a heterosexual romance you know a book is good, but also this book had background (and then later less background) queer characters! And the DRAMA!!! The third book went in a direction that felt a little out of nowhere but honestly I loved the ride. I stayed up until 6am multiple times reading this series and I’d do it again.

An Unkindness of Ghosts by Rivers Solomon. I loved this book so much that it’s the only book I reviewed on my basically abandoned attempt at a book blog. This book is haunting, horrifying, disturbing, dark, but so, so good. The character's voices were so specific and clear, the relationships so clearly affected by circumstance and yet loving in the ways they could be. This is my favorite portrayal of gender maybe ever, it’s just... I don’t even have the words but I saw a post @audible-smiles​ made about it that’s been rattling in my head since. And, “you gender-malcontent. You otherling,” as tender pillow talk??? Be still my heart. Be ready, though, this book has all the triggers.. it’s a .

Felix Ever After by Kacen Callender. This book called me out on my perspective on love. Also, it made me cry a lot. And it has two different interesting well-written romance storylines. And a realistic coming-into-identity narrative about a Black trans demiboy. And a nuanced discussion of college plans and what one might do after college. And some big beautiful romcom moments. I wish I had it in high school. I’m so glad I have it now! (trigger warning for transphobia & outing, but the people responsible are held accountable by the end, always treated as not okay by the narrative, and the MC’s friends, and like... this is ownvoices and it’s GOOD.)

The Starless Sea by Erin Morgenstern. My Goodreads review says, “I have no idea what happened, and I loved it.” That’s not wrong, but to delve deeper, this book has an ethereal feeling that you get wrapped up in while reading. Nothing makes sense but that’s just as it should be. You’re hooked. It is so atmospheric, so meta, so fascinating. I’ve seen so many people say they interpreted this character or that part or the ending in all different ways and it all makes sense. And it’s all of this with a gay main character and romance and the central theme, the central pillar being a love of and devotion to stories. Of course I was going to love it.

Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl’s Confabulous Memoir by Kai Cheng Thom. “Because maybe what really matters isn’t whether something is true, or false. Maybe what matters is the story itself; what kinds of doors it opens, what kinds of dreams it brings.” This book was so good and paradigm shifting. It reminded me of #1 on this list in the way it turns real life experience and hard, tragic ones at that (in this case, of being a trans girl of color who leaves home and tries to make a life for herself in the city, with its violence), into a beautiful, haunting fable. Once upon a time.

I Wish You All the Best by Mason Deaver. I need to reread this book, as I read it during my most tranceful time of 2020 and didn’t write a review, so I forgot a lot. What I do remember is beautiful and important nonbinary representation, a really cute romance, an interesting parental and familial/sibling dynamic that was both heartbreaking and hopeful, and an on-page therapy storyline. Also Mason Deaver just left twitter but was an absolutely hilarious troll on it before leaving and I appreciate that (and they just published a Christmas novella that I have but haven’t read yet!)

The Truth Is by NoNieqa Ramos. It took a long time to trust this book but I’m so glad I did. It’s raw and real and full of grief and trauma (trigger warnings, that I remember, for grief, death (before beginning of book), and gun violence). The protagonist is flawed and gets to grow over the course of the book, and find her own place, and learn from the people around her, while they also learn to understand her and where she’s coming from. It’s got a gritty, harsh, and important portrayal of found family, messy queerness, and some breathtaking quotes. When I was 82% through this book I posted this update: “This book has addressed almost all of my initial hesitations, and managed to complicate itself beautifully.”

Anger is a Gift by Mark Oshiro.  I wasn’t actually in the best mental health place to read this book when I did (didn’t quite understand what it was) but it definitely reminded me of what there is to fight against and to fight for, and broke my heart, and nudged me a bit closer to hope. The naturally diverse cast of characters was one of the best parts of this book. The romance is so sweet and tender and then so painful. This book is important and well-written but read it with caution and trigger warnings - it’s about grief and trauma and racism and police brutality, but also about love and community.

The Prey of Gods by Nicky Drayden.  This is a sci-fi/fantasy/specfic mashup that takes place in near-future South Africa and has world-building myths with gods and demigoddesses and a trip to the world of the dead but also a genetically altered hallucinogenic drug that turns people into giant animals and a robot uprising and a political campaign and a transgender pop star and a m/m couple and all of them are connected. It’s bonkers. Like, so, so absolutely mind-breaking weird. And I loved it.

Crier’s War and Iron Heart by Nina Varela.  I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVED the amount of folktales they told each other with queer romances as integral to those stories, especially in Iron Heart. A conversation between the two leads where Crier says she wants to read Ayla like a book, and Ayla says she’s not a book, and Crier explains all the different ways she wants to know Ayla, like a person, and wants to deserve to know her like a person, made me weak. It lives in my head rent-free.

Queen’s Shadow by E.K. Johnston @ekjohnston . I listened to this book on Libby and then immediately listened to it at least one more time, maybe twice, before my borrow time ran out. I love Padmé, and just always wish that female Star Wars characters got more focus and attention and this book gave me that!! And queer handmaidens! And the implication that Sabé is in love with Padmé and that’s just something that will always be true and she will always be devoted and also will make her own life anyway. And the Star Wars audiobooks being recorded the way they are with background sounds and music means it feels like watching a really long detailed beautiful Star Wars movie just about Padmé and her handmaidens.

Sissy: A Coming of Gender Story by Jacob Tobia. I needed to read this. The way Tobia talks about their experience of gender within the contexts of college, college leadership, and career, hit home. I kept trying to highlight several pages in a row on my kindle so I could go back and read them after it got returned to the library (sadly it didn’t work - it cuts off highlights after a certain number of characters). The way they talk about TOKENISM they way they talk about the responsibilities of the interviewer when an interviewee holds marginalized identities especially when no one else in the room does!!! Ahhhh!!!

Bonds of Brass by Emily Skrutskie. Disclaimer for this one that the author was rightfully criticized for writing a Black main character as a white author (and how the story ended up playing into some fucked up stuff that I can’t really unpack without spoiling). But also, the author has been working to move forward knowing she can’t change the past, has donated her proceeds, and this book is really good? It has all the fanfic tropes, so much delicious tension, a totally unexpected plot twist that had me immediately rereading the book. This book was super fun and also kind of just really really good Star Wars fanfiction.

How To Be a Normal Person by T.J. Klune. This book was so sweet, and cute, and hopeful, and both ridiculous and so real. I had some trouble getting used to Gus’ voice and internal monologue, but I got into it and then loved every bit after. The ace rep is something I’ve never seen like this before (and have barely read any ace books but still this was so fleshed out and well rounded and not just like, ‘they’re obsessed with swords not sex’ - looking at you, Once & Future - and leaving it there.) This all felt like a slice of life and I feel like I learned about people while reading it. Some of the moments are so, so funny, some are vaguely devastating. I have been personally victimized by TJ Klune for how he ends this book (a joke, you will know once you read it) but it also reminds me of the end of the “You Are There” episode of Xena and we all know what the answer to that question was.... and I choose to believe the answer here was similar.

You Should See Me in a Crown by Leah Johnson. I wish I had this book when I was in high school. I honestly have complicated feelings about prom and haven’t really been seeking out contemporary YA so I was hesitant to read this but it was so good and so well-written, and had a lot of depth to it. The movie (and Broadway show) “The Prom” wants what this book has.

Plain Bad Heroines by Emily M. Danforth. I never read horror books, so this was a new thing for me. I loved the feeling of this book, the way I felt fully immersed. I loved how entirely queer it was. I was interested in the characters and the relationships, even though we didn’t have a full chance to go super deep into any one person but rather saw the connections between everyone and the way the stories matched up with each other. I just wanted a bit of a more satisfying ending.

Honorable Mention: reread in 2020 but read for the first time pre-2020

Red White & Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. I couldn’t make this post without mentioning this book. It got me through this year. I love this book so much; I think of this book all the time. This book made me want to find love for myself. You’ve all heard about it enough but if you haven’t read this book what are you DOING.

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan @sarahreesbrennan​ . I reread this one over and over too, both as text and as an audiobook. I went for walks when I had lost my earbuds and had Elliott screaming about an elf brothel loudly playing and got weird looks from someone walking their dog. I love this book so much. It’s just so fun, and so healing to read a book reminiscent of all the fantasies I read as a kid, but with a bi main character and a deconstruction of patriarchy and making fun of the genre a bit. Also, idiots to lovers is a great trope and it’s definitely in this book.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. This book is forever so important to me. I am always drawn in by how tenderly Sáenz portrays his characters. These boys. These boys and their parents. I love them. I love them so much. This is another one where I don’t even know what to say. I have more than 30 pages in my tag for this book. I have “arda” set as a keyboard shortcut on my phone and laptop to turn into the full title. This book saved my life.

Last Night I Sang to the Monster by Benjamin Alire Sáenz. This book hurts to read - it’s a story about trauma, about working through that trauma, healing enough to be ready to hold the worst memories, healing enough to move through the pain and start to make a life. It’s about found family and love and pain and I love it. It’s cathartic. And it’s a little bit quietly queer in a beautiful way, but that’s not the focus. Look up trigger warnings (they kind of are spoilery so I won’t say them here but if you have the potential to be triggered please look them up or ask me before reading)

Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine.  When asked what my all time favorite book is, it’s usually this one. Gail Carson Levine has been doing live readings at 11am since the beginning of the pandemic shut down in the US, and the first book she read was Ella Enchanted. I’ve been slowly reading it to @mssarahpearl and am just so glad still that it has the ability to draw me in and calm me down and feels like home after all this time. This book is about agency. I love it.

Radio Silence by Alice Oseman @chronicintrovert . I’ve had this on my all-time-faves list since I read it a few years ago and ended up rereading it this year before sending a gift copy to a friend, so I could write little notes in it. It felt a little different reading it this time - as I get further away from being a teenager myself, the character voice this book is written in takes a little longer to get used to, but it’s so authentic and earnest and I love it. I absolutely adore this book about platonic love and found family and fandom and mental illness and abuse and ace identity and queerness and self-determination, especially around college and career choices. Ahhh. Thank you Alice Oseman!!!

Leia: Princess of Alderaan by Claudia Gray @claudiagray​ . I have this one on audible and reread it several times this year. I love the fleshing out of Leia’s story before the original trilogy, I love her having had a relationship before Han, and the way it would have affected her perspective. I also am intrigued by the way it analyses the choices the early rebellion had to make... I just, I love all the female focused new Star Wars content and the complexity being brought to the rebellion.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

What type of kids do you think the ikevamp guys would be if they went to high school?

Oh boy HERE WE GO

(Under a cut bc this post is a Long Boi^TM)

Napoleon. Would prbly be that kid that’s like somehow bafflingly in the top ten of his class but nobody ever sees him??? Like he’s always late to school or napping in the quietest places on campus (they found him in a locker once and the school was laughing about it for WEEKS bc he insisted he was just chillin, and it wasn’t like a bullying incident he just wanted to sleep LMAO). Surprisingly amiable? A lot of people are afraid of him at first but he’s just so casual and direct, he gains quite a few friends (and a good number of girls have a crush on him--he always diverts the attention of skeevy guys). Good friends with Jeanne because they fence together a lot, and people are always baffled at how easily they chat

Mozart. Where do I begin. Number one in his class, perfectionist prick. That one kid that’s a known prodigy and that everyone hates for his impeccable grades and musical talent. Always gets the solos and conducting roles in the school performances. He knows how to play a crowd--will always be sweet and cherubic in front of teachers. But when it’s just the students? All gloves are off. Frigid and incendiary, will not take any shit and will tear you apart with words in milliseconds. Do not cross. He will end your entire life and self-esteem, it’s not worth it. Has a few friends, and they often experience the disdain of jealous students--but they’re all steadfast about defending him. And Mozart will not tolerate it if people are mistreating his friends, he’s an iron wall of defense; to be his friend means to always have someone looking out for you, make no mistake. He and Jeanne often grab food together after practice and ask about each others day, they hella close but never really show it while school’s on--their class schedules are worlds apart bc of their grades, and at lunch they’re usually practicing/doing hw. When they hug it out at graduation and pat each other on the back everyone nearly falls the fuck out of their chair LMFAO

Leonardo. That kid that 100% could probably be in the top fifty of his class but just can’t be bothered to give a damn. Always argues points with his teachers and plays devil’s advocate until they are inches from exploding at him. Always the one to mercifully make class feel shorter with his absolute distraction-heavy shitfuckery (and sometimes you really learn something because of his line of thinking). He's a dumbass but like harmless, essentially. Used to be the perfect student^TM and then decided the system was bullshit and he wanted no part of it, thinks public education can kiss his ass. Nobody knows it since he asks people not to talk about it, but he tutors kids after school for hours--has brought kids from Ds to Bs. He always dodges nosy people, never goes to parties, and finds ways to intervene around kids that are struggling with smth (with ninja stealth of course). Despite how easily he laughs and chats with just about anyone, he’s...actually surprisingly v much a lone wolf. Only ever consistently hangs out with the heartthrob rich kid, but nobody understands why???? And they’re always roasting each other wtf, are they even friends????

Comte. Pretty boy genius, always in the top five of his class though doesn’t seem too worried about it or obsessed with rank as students often are. It’s more that his parents have high expectations for his future as their heir, so he tends to fall in line with it. Born into money but somehow....not an asshole??? He doesn’t really like showing off, tries to be quiet about his accomplishments but his parents won’t really allow it--and he’s the star of the soccer team so it can be hard to hide. Most often the one at a party trying to help people sober up (always designated driver) or hearing his friends out when they have a problem. Has never publicly tried to bust heads, but some of the guys in the school insist he’s got a dark side--probably because he threatened them (passive aggressively) within an inch of their lives for being disgusting to girls. But nobody believes them bc...I mean look at him, does that look like a threat?? He just bought that kid’s lunch for christ’s sake. TONS of girls ask him out and confess their feelings, and he always lets them down as gently as he can--conceivably doesn’t like anyone himself, as far as the student body knows. Like Leonardo he’s v amiable, but also manages to reveal nothing personal while getting close. Leonardo’s the only one that’s managed to scratch the surface, and the kid won’t leave him alone for some godforsaken reason. And yet, he seems to enjoy their minutes of banter more than the hours of time spent with “friends”

Arthur. Oh boy. Good lord. Well. He used to be a sweetheart that would always seek out the mousier students and bring them into discussion/involve them on the playground. But alas, Teenage Jadedness^TM hit him like a train and now he’s an incorrigible flirt and believes no single person can be good deep down (somebody get this bitch some eyeliner). Believes the world will always be a cruel and unfeeling place where victims are never heard, so he just kind of goes full skeptical and bitter (think Sylvain for those of you that are FE fans). Has fun with every girl he sees (usually dating several girls at once) and doesn’t much care for his grades, but somehow has perfect scores in English?? He insists it’s because he needs to keep his seduction game on par with the voices of older legends before him, but some of the girls that see him in the library from time to time--v serious--are struck by how attractive he is in such deep focus, entirely uncharacteristic of his nosy and boisterous behavior in the halls (can often be seen whirling around Isaac like a bird of prey while our little baby robin Isaac stiffly tries to get away from him, and Dazai often joins to make things even more chaotic bc why not? In reality they just love this feisty kid that never gives up on what’s right, even though they’ve both given up trying themselves)

Dazai. He’s one of those kids that like does weed regularly but is also like...alarmingly insightful?? Like those kids I was always told to avoid, but now and again I would have conversations with out of necessity and was just...kinda shook. I mean granted he’s a little weird but he’s fairly harmless?? He’s like a class clown but on a massive scale--there’s nobody in the place that doesn’t know who he is, that haven’t heard tales of his exploits (he always comes in through the windows and gets detention for it a lot, and he even brought a chicken with him to school once????) nobody gets what he’s doing at any moment (don’t even know if he does really, chaotic mofo) and honestly nobody wants to know they just do the side eye meme when he appears or laughs. The teachers lament his untapped potential or just hate him for making their lives an even bigger headache than usual, and his grades are...yeah let’s not look at those. Organized the senior prank with absolute GLEE, and it was talked about for ages after he was gone--an inspiration chaotic bastards everywhere

Theodorus. (I hate.......that I pictured him in those like Vineyard Vine white boy clothes.......for the record its mostly bc his parents force him to wear them). All business. This kid doesn’t have time for your bullshit, will absolutely walk away if you’re boring him or seeking social clout. Popular because he’s hot and has a mean streak a mile wide, all the girls that didn’t like Mozart for being ethereal and effeminate boomeranged to find Theo ready to fulfill their hopes and dreams. They only grow more feral when rumors of him actually being fairly nice one on one--and telling creeps to fuck off of vulnerable girls at parties--start to circulate. (If he isn’t with Vincent, Arthur is probably near. Nobody understands how the two are brothers????) Van Gogh name apparently is just “I can be your angel or i can be your devil” and no one understands how... Grades are average and he’s plenty capable, most of his time is spent working after school because his parents refuse to provide Vincent with any artistic materials (canvas, paints, etc). They ask him to go to parties more, but he only goes to piss his parents off (he’s v lowkey punk and it’s understandably sexy of him). Will literally only listen to Vincent, and got in a looooot of trouble after getting into a fistfight with Shakespeare. Only stopped because his parents blamed Vincent for the incident, and Vincent apologized and went quiet for days ;-;

Vincent. Always been quiet and shy, but he doesn’t dislike ppl--he just has a hard time speaking up now and again. His parents always talk over him and tell him nothing he has to say has any real value, so he tends to struggle with a lot of self-doubt. Not isolated because he’s not likeable, it’s more because people tend to take advantage of his mild and earnest nature--until Theo runs them off. He’s on amiable terms with most people but has no real, true friends and it makes him feel lonely a lot. Mostly copes with the emotional turmoil by painting as much as he can. His grades are average, he does reliably well but can often be found daydreaming or distracted. Theo tends to escort him everywhere because of his propensity to attract danger (namely Shakespeare) or walk into things cuz he’s in his head a lot. A few of the artsier girls and the quiet academic girls have HUGE crushes on him (he’s softspoken, sweet, and calm; come on now), but he’s so distant--and honestly nice to everyone in equal measure--that they don’t have much hope of it coming to fruition. This kid deadass doesn’t think a single girl would ever like him that way so he’s just c:???????? when Theo talks about “those nosy harpies coming after my brother”

Jeanne. EDGY MCEDGE. Isn’t amazing in the academic department, but he’s a killer fencer--the rallying cry of the entire team. He became leader his sophomore year and he’s pretty much the only reason they keep destroying at tournaments throughout the year. Despite the pervasive interest in him he intimidates most people away with his swift intensity and ironclad stoicism. Silent as a grave and very still, people are convinced he’s the Grim Reaper reincarnated (listen he’s juST A DUTIFUL BABIE N O). If he isn’t fencing or practicing, Isaac often offers him help in the library after school hours in one of the study rooms (can’t be seen who’s inside from the outside). The two develop a kind of uncanny bond; they’re both so...bad at human-ing that they find a lot of comfort in the atmosphere they create. There’s none of the bullshit grandstanding or clout obsession, just them genuinely trying to help each other (yes Jeanne absolutely teaches Isaac self-defense moves in order to crush the kids that pick on him, and Jeanne often either glares or outright threatens those students when Isaac isn’t looking). Only ever smiles or feels understood when he’s hanging out with Mozart, so he cherishes the time Mozart offers him to hang (he knows the kid is busy up to his eyeballs and under a ton of pressure by comparison, his parents don’t care much as long as they can brag about his fencing records)

Isaac. Mega nerd that just...does not know how to interact. Only understands math and DESTROYS in competitive math club, but otherwise is always alone at lunch or just in the library. A little bean pole because he doesn’t look after himself very well (neglects to eat a lot) and can sometimes be found asleep on his books. If approached he will be very thorny, doesn’t have any friends to speak of and trusts everyone about as far as he can throw them. Yells at Arthur and Dazai a lot when they flock around him, and has gotten into his fair share of fights. Never starts fights, but will finish them. People are surprised he can hold his own, and he comes away with blood that ain’t his. There are a few girls that are curious about him, but its mostly the ones that have seen his awkward thoughtfulness in club--or the girls that are sick of the assholes and appreciate how stalwart he is. He really just wants to be left in peace (his parents never show up to his meets or when he wins academic awards, and the few teachers that notice are pretty concerned abt his reactivity and complete lack of social savvy...) Leonardo always helps him sneak in at night to look at the stars on the school roof

Shakespeare is p much the like “kid most anticipated to be in jail as soon as they’re out of high school” He just. Has that like...serial killer vibe??? Idk if I’m explaining this well but he was that guy that would always cling to genuinely compassionate girls just trying to be nice like a LEECH, and would never fucking shut up if he did or didn’t get attention. You just can't win with this kid. Probably wanted to kill the kids that made fun of him or at the very least wanted to lash out against the confident/popular/nice kids. Only liked you if he didn’t deem you a threat, or if you didn’t make him insecure, or if you tolerated him (aka Vincent. Vincent PLEASE stop trying to reach out to dangerous ppl....I love you too much to watch this shit...) He admitted as much to Theo and the kid went livid with rage and pummeled him into the ground, though most of the rest of the student body doesn’t know quite what happened. (Theo refuses to explain to anyone, and just walks away if asked). Shakespeare will just change the subject endlessly and make passive aggressive threats until the person leaves if they try to bring it up. The only time the entire class has EVER seen Leonardo mad is when Shakespeare kept tailing this girl that wanted no part of him

Sebastian. Nerdy like Isaac, but is more of the silent observer type. Like Theo, doesn't want any part of the bullshit but won't be as blunt or outspoken about it, he's only open about it if pressed or pissed off. Doesn't have much patience for the clique-driven nature of high school and tends to take an interest in the people who stand out beyond the mind-numbing drama. Also is in the top fifty but studies like a lunatic, and can often be seen asking Comte for tips now and again. Has tried talking to Mozart and admires his talents, but Mozart gives a cold shoulder that would put Antarctica to shame. (Leonardo tries to ninja him into taking breaks but never succeeds). Has a great deal of disdain for the troublemakers (Arthur and Dazai) but doesn't intervene, just watches shit go down and sighs. Probably the most normal(?) one of the bunch, just does his best and keeps his head down

[yodawgiherd]

Incantation of Incineration

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Ok so this work is inspired by an INCREDIBLE fanart I've been blessed to see, do yourself a favor and check it out too - > https://twitter.com/NxngOna/status/1386048795595743239 Mwah, perfection Anyway, rating is M, so beware.

(It's also quickly cobbled together because its a heat-of-the-moment thing, so forgive me if you find mistakes :> I'm far from perfect.)

This had to work.

No, who was she kidding, this wouldn’t work.

It never did, no matter how hard Mikasa tried, how deeply she dug in the library, how much she searched on the internet. Magic was a myth, and it would never work, which saddened the goth girl to no end.

She was fascinated by the supernatural ever since she could remember, devouring magazines, tv-shows or books dedicated to the topic with unhealthy speed. Maybe she was a tiny bit obsessed, but that was okay. Her parents didn’t mind, as long as she kept her grades up, and because Mikasa was very bright that was not hard to achieve. In her free time she kept experimenting, she kept trying, she kept searching for a way to make it work.

To no avail.

No ritual worked. No spell changed anything. No incantation had any effect. Still, she wouldn’t give up. It carried her through high school and it stuck with her in college too. To Mikasa it didn’t matter that goth went out of style, that magic was a forgotten thing for all of her classmates. It was an ethereal thing, bigger than life, something that enhanced the mundane and boring existence.

And today, her faith was rewarded.

Mikasa was studying in a library by herself, having an exam coming up, when her session was interrupted. A small girl appeared, hair shadowing her eyes and an enigmatic smile on the youthful face.

“Hello,”, she said, “Do you like black magic?”

“I.. Uh…”, nervous, the goth pushed an unruly bang that escaped her pigtails behind one pierced ear, “Why do you ask?”

A frown entered her features when Mikasa realized that this was a college library, no place for a small girl.

“Wait, who are you? Where are your parents?”

The girl ignored all this, rudely.

“If you do like magic…”, she leaned closer, “Check the “Worlds Religions” section, the third row.”

“What are you talking about? H-hey!”

Not answering, the girl turned and walked away, disappearing between the bookshelves. Completely dumbfounded,  Mikasa sat for a while, wondering what kind of strange experience this was. Honestly, she should ignore that. It was a child, probably making fun of her because of the way Mikasa dressed. It meant nothing.

Maybe.

Most likely.

But what if…

“Screw it.”, two words that fell from between the goth’s lips and she was putting her stuff back in the bag, throwing it over her shoulder, and walking towards the religion section.

Deftly, her fingers ran along the covers as she searched, taking care that none of her rings scratched the books. Third row, was it? Eyes sliding over one book and then the next, Mikasa felt an uneasiness in her stomach upon finding nothing. It was a joke then. The girl….

Here.

This book didn’t belong here. Sure, it had a cross on the front, but that was the only marking. No title, no text, no explanation, only black leather and silver cross imprinted into it. Looking left and right, Mikasa made sure that she’s alone before grabbing the book and opening it, eyes widening immediately.

There were spells scribbled on the pages, strange words that made sense to her only because of the life-long obsession with the occult. Not that Mikasa didn’t see books like these before, but none of the spells in those worked. Yet this one – it appeared so suddenly, and the girl was so mysterious…..

Biting her bottom lip, Mikasa quickly stuffed the book in her bag, leaving the library right after. Studying could wait, her pursuit of magic could not. Nobody noticed her little thievery, nobody called out for her, and when she was walking home, a new hope was blooming in Mikasa’s chest.

Turning the key in its lock, she wasn’t surprised to see that her parents weren’t home. They worked long hours, days sometimes, and Mikasa was used to being alone. Kicking off her heavy leather boots she beelined towards the bedroom, shutting the door after herself. Bag dumped at the foot of the bed, Mikasa pulled out the book and sat cross-legged on the floor, truly studying it.

There were so many spells in the book, so many rituals, it made her head swim. Some were amazing, some terrible, some made her shiver, and other gasp in excitement.

“No point in getting worked up over nothing.”, she calmed herself, “If none of these work….”

A test then, a trial run of one of these, to see if this was real or yet another hoax. Randomly opening the book, her grey eyes slid over the text, taking in the chosen pages.

“A demon summoning ritual.”, she read out loud.

Okay, fine.

It was a fairly basic spell, and Mikasa had everything required. Chalk to draw a pentagram on the floor. Candles in each corner of the star. In the middle, a small bowl waited for her offering. Mikasa kneeled above it, as described in the book, a knife in one hand. Going by the instructions, she was supposed to cut herself, deep enough to bleed. That was fine, but the placement of the required cut was strange. Not a hand, as she usually did, this one had to be on her face beneath the right eye.

Well, Mikasa was determined.

Reading from the book, she began the ritual. The strange words made no sense to her, but it wasn’t the first time that she chanted something without understanding what. The spell was long and tedious to pronounce, luckily she had plenty of experience with speaking tongue-twisting words. Higher and higher her voice climbed until it was the time for the climax of the ritual. Gritting her teeth, Mikasa dragged the knife over her face, catching a few drops of blood into the bowl. Planting it back in the middle of the pentagram, she waited with bated breath, waited and….

Nothing happened.

Satan damn it.

A wave of sadness washed over her as Mikasa sat back on her heels, clutching the book to her chest. This was her best shot by far, and it didn’t do anything. Maybe it was finally time to accept that black magic simply didn’t ex…

A sudden explosion followed by black and red smoke threw her and Mikasa landed on her back, knocking her head against the floor. Her vision was swimming, but she could see that someone was standing in the middle of the pentagram now, a tall figure that angled its head back, a breathy chuckle coming.

“Damn, it's good to breathe air again.”

That voice. That damn voice. So deep, it rumbled through her entire being, tingled some parts that Mikasa didn’t even know existed. Pushing herself up on the elbows, Mikasa was about to ask what is going on when the being looked straight at her.

And she was lost.

Those green eyes pierced her, went right through any sort of mental strength, and dug into the deepest parts of her being. Not even giving her time to think the being moved, fast as a shadow, and suddenly her body was covered by someone. Falling back from the sudden assault with a yelp, Mikasa turned on her hip, still clutching that stupid book to her chest. Fearfully, she raised her eyes and finally saw what the hell did she just summon.

It was a demon all right. A man no doubt, naked from the waist up but (luckily) wearing black pants with multiple leather belts. Nothing strange on his body, at least from what Mikasa saw, but his head was quite a different story. There were horns on the top of his head, black and curved. Strange markings ran down from his emerald eyes, a bit like cuts, heading down the cheeks. Studying it, studying him, Mikasa realized one thing.

Their faces were damn close.

“So you are the one who summoned me?”, the demon asked, a smug smile crossing his admittedly very handsome features, “A girl?”

Mikasa’s throat was dry, so dry that she couldn’t even answer, but the demon didn’t seem to mind. He was looking at her too, eyes roaming all over her face and a certain satisfaction appearing. A strange ringing sound to her left, and suddenly there was a hand touching her, sweeping away hair that fell into her eyes.

He had claws, she realized, claws and torn shackles at his wrists. And while the claws did look sharp his touch was gentle, not hurting her in the slightest.

“A pretty girl at that.”, the demon continued his monologue, “Very pretty…. Beautiful …”

There was hunger in his words now, a primal one that made Mikasa shiver. She had to do something, otherwise this demon would devour her. Gathering all her mental strength, she clutched the book tighter and spoke.

More like squeaked.

“I-I am y-your master now! You c-came because of my c-calling, that ma-makes you mine!”

“Is that so?”, the demon wasn’t bothered by these words in the slightest, more like pleased if she read his face correctly, “Tell me, beautiful…”

Closer, closer he moved and now their faces were practically touching.

“Do you feel in power?”

Unable to speak, Mikasa shook her head as her lips trembled in fear. A single tear rolled from her eye, realizing that while she may have conducted the ritual, she had no idea how to control the demon. Yet before the tear could splash against the floor the demon caught it, a gentle claw swiping across her slightly bleeding cheek.

“There is no need to cry, pretty girl, I have no intention of hurting you.”

“Y-You don’t?”

“No, you are way too beautiful for that, I wouldn’t dream of tainting that. And…”, his nostrils flared as he took a lungful, “you smell wonderful.”

His head dipped low and suddenly it was on Mikasa’s neck. Lips parted and sharp teeth grazed the skin, making her think that despite the earlier words he might still hurt her. Instead of pain a soft kiss was planted on her neck, forcing a gasp from her throat. That sound pleased the demon.

“W-What are you doing?”, Mikasa choked out.

“I’m not going to hurt you, but you can’t expect me to come all this way from hell and want nothing in return….”, claws appeared again, this time on her upper thighs, dancing around the lace of her stockings, “There is an ocean of pleasure I could drown you in, my beauty, and I’m feeling generous tonight…”

Retreating from her neck the demon faced her again, the green eyes scorching with intensity.

“What do you say, mortal, want a taste?”

No! – her rational half screamed.

But…

He was so beautiful, so unreal, he was everything Mikasa dreamed about. Dark magic was real, it summoned a demon for her, one that was offering her pleasure. Those damn claws on her sensitive skin, the aftertaste of his lips on her neck, the delicious heat his body produced, pressed so close to her….

“Y-Yes.”, Mikasa found herself saying, unable to stop it, “I do.”

The smile that appeared on the demon’s lips, that was the epitome of smugness.

“Good.”

Without further ado, he crashed his lips into hers, finally kissing her. Mikasa was taken aback by this, head lolling back and jaw wrenched helplessly open. The demon’s tongue slipped into her mouth, abnormally long and dexterous, wrapping around her own in one slick motion. At the same time the claws moved, repositioning from her thighs to between them, pressing against her heat. Overcome at several places, Mikasa moaned out loud.

Black panties nudged aside, now the tip of the claw was teasing her wetness directly, building her frustration up. She couldn’t do anything, hands uselessly hanging on the side, the book cluttering on the floor. His tongue was everywhere in her mouth, taking it as its own home, even brushing against Mikasa’s throat. How long was that damn thing?

By the time he finally allowed her to breathe Mikasa was panting, eyes wide and cheeks boiling red. Observing the fruits of his labor, the demon noticed the blood still trickling down, his tongue sweeping out to lick at it.

“Delicious…”, he purred, gently caressing the tiny cut that was already healing, thanks to his tongue, “You taste wonderfully too.”

“P-Please…”, was all Mikasa could say, begging with her eyes more than with her words.

“Oh? Is there something you want?”, the rubbing grew even faster, forcing her to arch her hips and moan again.

“Please!”, she practically screamed, tilting her hips for a better angle.

Deciding that he had tortured her enough, the demon slipped a single finger inside her, exploring the fluttering walls. The penetration made her gasp wonderfully, eyes sliding shut from the intensity.  She was tight, tighter than he expected, making him frown.

“I don’t think that I can go all the way with you tonight, my beauty.”, he sighed, “It would hurt you too much.”

Summoning a single braincell to work, Mikasa cracked an eye open.

“W-What?”

The demon’s answer was a grin.

“Not to worry, I have many more weapons at my disposal.”

A second claw joined the first one, scissoring her open, and Mikasa lost control of her voice. With her mouth occupied by frantic breathing, the demon attacked the neck again, biting into the skin. She was so pale and colored beautifully beneath his teeth, and he chuckled inwardly imagining all the bruises that were sure to bloom on her.

There were wet sounds in the room, squelching as he fingered her, her body being such an amazingly reacting toy. Pulling his fingers out, the demon admired the trail of wetness that connected them to her twitching womanhood. Mikasa’s blood tasted wonderful, so how about….

The long tongue was back in action, she realized, watching as the demon licked his fingers clean from her essence, an expression of pure joy appearing on his features.

“Now this… This is something else.”, his eyes found hers, a wicked grin on the demon’s face, “I need to taste you properly.”

Faster than a snake he was gone, head appearing between her stockinged legs. With a quick swipe of his claw the demon snapped the waistband of her panties open, throwing the ruined underwear away. Grabbing Mikasa’s asscheeks he spread her open for him, planting his face exactly where she wanted it to be. Right against her throbbing sex.

If the abnormal demon tongue felt amazing in her mouth, having it down there was indescribable. Licking at her glistening outer lips first, he glided everywhere on the wet skin, cleaning it. And then he was inside. The long muscle slid into her, writhing around and Mikasa clasped her hands over her mouth just in time before a loud scream ripped its way from her throat. This was incredible.

Nothing ever came close to how the demon’s tongue made her feel. Never in her life did Mikasa experience this much pleasure because the tongue reached everywhere stimulating the entirety of her sex in long strokes and vibrations that she had no idea how he produced. Her eyes rolled back, her chest contracted, her legs clenched around his head. Relentless in his pursuit of Mikasa’s sweetness, the demon kept tongue-fucking her with a clear purpose in mind. To speed it up, to reach his feast faster, a single claw dragged over her swollen clit, pressing and rubbing and….

Mikasa lost it.

Complete whiteness washed over her vision as she came, her inner walls contracting wildly around the demonic tongue. She pulsed and pulsed and produced more of that delicious nectar that he eagerly drank in, not letting even a drop go to waste. Mikasa’s blood was delicious but this was beyond delicious, it was the best thing that he ever tasted and the demon couldn’t get enough.

When her body began to calm, a frown entered his handsome features.

“Oh no, this won’t do, I need more.”

Mikasa didn’t even get a chance to talk before the tongue slid inside her again and she screamed, eyes shutting and features contorting. Apparently once was not enough, and the demon was intent on making her come on his face again.

This was going to be a long night.

In the end, Mikasa lost count on how many times the demon made her cum. Not tiring, not needing a break, he kept pleasuring her, toying with her clit and abusing her sex. She was lost in an unending stream of happy hormones, drowning in that ocean of pleasure the demon promised her. His grip on her was firm and Mikasa’s hips were grounded, the demon didn’t allow her to move away from him, holding his prize close. Only when she was truly done and couldn’t do it anymore, when she whined in discomfort instead of pleasure did he pull back, sated.

For now.

Completely done and spent Mikasa was practically passed out, body unresponsive and eyes closed. Hands circled her, easily picking her up and carrying her a short distance. She was gently deposited in the bed and someone pulled the covers over her before a kiss was planted on her forehead. And then a heated whisper entered her ears, pushing its way into the brain even through the curtain of absolute exhaustion.

“If you want more, my beauty, you know where to find me.”, another kiss, this time on her lips, “I’ll be waiting.”

Finally, the darkness overcame her completely.

When Mikasa woke up, hours later, she thought that it all must have been a dream. That delusion lasted for only about a second before the rest of her body woke up, the ache in her lower regions demanding that she accepts the reality. Lifting the covers, Mikasa’s eyes shot open.

Her body was still fully clothed, as the demon didn’t bother with disrobing her, only her panties were gone. There were bruises, so many bruises on her upper thighs, the small part left uncovered by the stockings littered with bites. Her neck received a similar treatment, judging from the ache.

The pentagram was there, albeit the candles were snuffed out, the book lying innocently in the middle. Mikasa tried standing up to get it, only to realize that her legs refused to carry her and she fell back into the bed. Despite all this ache, despite all the unknown, Mikasa’s lips spread into a smile as she eyed the book.

The goth girl and her green-eyed demon are going to have so much fun together.

[nothisis-ridiculous]

Take Me Home Now: Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight: They Are Cryin'

Set after the events of ME3.

A rewrite. Ao3.

FemShepxKaidan

"Fuck."

It wasn't a painful awakening; she actually felt damn good. Clearer, like the tiny neurons in her brain fired without a jolt of pain. The sweet moment of clarity after the removal of an infected tooth. Bliss. If only a familiar face could loom over her, a happy embrace of the one she loved. A blissful reunion.

The aging woman who looked over her with a sour expression erasing her gratitude and any field of butterflies illusion. Along with the confusion of waking up in unfamiliar territory.

Right, she was dying just a moment before.

"Where am I?"

This sloppily white-painted interior was not part of the shopping center she recognized. The medical machine that counted out her vitals was also out of place, but that was a minute detail. Jane had woken up from the dead once already, just not inside of a shipping crate. Make that one low she had not yet met.

"Just outside of London," the woman's scowl relaxed, "you're with the Special Operations Biotic Company. Luckily for you, I understand you had a rattled implant."

Her hand was grabbed before she felt her spirits utterly bottom out, the woman's dark brown eyes peering out at her from behind black and white streaked hair. A moment of shared pain passed between them before Jane could not manage to keep up the contact, "how about the LT? My home?"

"The latter is in one piece. I'm not familiar with the person you speak of," the lady spoke gently, "you were rushed here after an injury. But let me introduce you to the person that saved your life, Doctor Balcan."

Jane's gaze shifted to the person arriving on the other side of her bed, the most beautiful creature she had ever beheld. Dark brown hair and eyes loomed over her; the soft smile set upon full brown lips looked perfectly primped without a touch of makeup. The simple doctor's smock hung perfectly on her body, the garment unable to smear an ounce of the poise this woman possessed. As the female nodded in greeting and her long lashes crested her cheeks, Jane was infected with jealousy.

"Thank you, Helen," even her voice was sweet, not in an artificial way, but in the vein of the sweetness of a ripe strawberry, "I think I can handle Jane for the moment if you wouldn't mind grabbing her meal."

The woman waited for Helen to leave before speaking again, "how long have your biotic powers been misfunctioning?"

"Since the Reapers fell," time was a funny thing to Jane anymore.

"Just shy of seven months," the minuscule movement of her eyebrow hardly seemed surprised, "though, I wasn't expecting to be fixing an L5n implant."

"Who else would be stupid enough to bullrush a krogan," any vanguard worth their salt knew how other biotics could view them. Rash. Stupid. Bullheaded.

"I think your stupid luck is what saved your life. You should have had severe seizures attacks, if not died from them, months ago."

Jane continued with a snarl, "but the mall. How... did everyone make it?"

"It was unkind of us not to tell you immediately, but only one civilian casualty," the doctor proffered a soft smile, "the Special Ops group got to your compound in time to repel the brunt of the attack. We had heard there was a pocket trying to rebuild; we just weren't sure if you were friendly, so the entire team did not come along. They had to rush you back here. The equipment is too fragile to move quickly."

She was even nice, gross.

"I was asked to pass on the message that you keep your ass down," at least the swear word brought her down from the utterly ethereal.

Jane's smile cracked, slightly painful against the cybernetic scars that littered her cheek.

"Your body is a curious piece of work; the sheer amount of upgrades and scarring at a microscopic level is fascinating," the woman pulled out her datapad, scrolling down what Jane assumed was a list of medical notes, "synthetic weaving to reinforce bones, microfibres in your muscles, synthetic skin fibres as well. I can't imagine the cost of that modified biotic amp."

Jane looked at her blankly, "you certainly poked around."

"Somebody wanted you alive," strawberry remarked, undeterred, "I'd think you're some sort of mad scientist experiment -that's a foolish notion. But I have my bets on Special Ops... N7."

Jane's eyes snapped into a glare, setting her jaw hard. Teeth grinding into her following biting statement, "don't attempt to bite off more than you can chew."

The woman returned the statement with tempered pity, lips tucked into a frown. The kickback from her calloused words came back twofold as a sharp pain seared across her orbital bone, requiring a hand to staunch the heat before it ended out in a cry. Jane should be thankful, instead, she was pissed. Most of the angst directed inward, some at the patheticness of the situation, little at the well-meaning doctor.

"Can I go?"

"I'll need you here for a couple more weeks minimum."

Fucking perfect.

The doctor continued before Jane's snarl turned into an attack, "you know you need to keep your biotics offline for a while. During that time, we can prepare to merge our groups as one. We'd like your help in escorting us back."

The last line was a platitude, but the LT's message made more sense. The guilt of their previous encounter started to trickle into her psyche before she squelched it away with a flinch, "any more orders, doc?"

"As you are The Commander, I think I should be deferring to you."

"Come again?"

The female laughed behind her hand, "it's obvious who you are. You may fool everyone else with the fancy scars, wilted demeanor, and blonde hair -which by the way, looks fabulous- but your unique physiology and enhancements give it away. I struggled with the thought briefly because how could the savior of the galaxy be here? You charged in with the strike team that went to activate the Crucible. But by God's grace, you're here."

"You can't be-"

Strawberry waved away the protest with her hand, "I'm more than some yokel surgeon. I don't get to be a spec ops field doctor without further training. You won't fool me."

"You bitch."

"Language, miss!"

The sharp crack of the older's woman's words snuffed the faint glow Jane had unconsciously started to accumulate. But it did not dim her glower, blue eyes pinned on the female tapping something into a datapad. Jane was still, frozen in the moment until the second snap of warmth from a small body clambering into her bed shook her from a blind stupor. The little hands and the mound of mousy hair looking at her with barely disguised disdain.

"But I already know those words," Evelyn murmured, only to increase the scrutiny Helen placed on her patient.

"Why are you-" the room immediately thickened with another aura, a solemn shake from the salt and pepper haired woman stopped her question, "are you here because Pater sent you?"

"It is my job," the girl declared bravely, "Pater said that I was to stop you from fighting with anymore krogan. Or just fighting."

"It was my fault, Evelyn...Helen," Strawberry squeaked, "I poked Mar- sorry, I meant Jane without telling her."

Jane's attention returned to the Doctor, pupils narrowing. That was no longer her name.

"I'll excuse it this time, Rahna," Helen's voice returned to a gentle timbre. Handing over the plate of rations, prepared in a manner that was meant to be appeasing. Simple rations that Jane was not thrilled to consume, "eat up. Biotics need energy. I've seen you guys crash before. I don't want you accidentally breaking something expensive."

Rahna.

Rahna...

Rahna.

The woman raised an eyebrow in her direction, plump lips playing into a smirk. Jane was had. Jealousy sunk deeper into her guts, bordering on hatred. How could Kaidan call her beautiful after seeing this divine creature? Beautiful on the Citadel. Beautiful after the first night they had bunked together. Beautiful every time they fucked after. Beautiful in the small moments. Beautiful in the big and the in-between. Had he meant Rahna all along?

"Two weeks."

"What now?" Jane snapped away from the grip of her thoughts.

Rahna crossed her arms, Evelyn giggled, and Helen spoke, "biotics."

"All of this commotion is probably a little too much for her, right now," Rahna cautioned to a sulking child, "let Jane eat in peace while I run a few more tests."

"Yup, super hungry," Jane murmured under her breath.

The patient's gaze did not stray from the Doctor, laser-focused on the slightest movement she made. Waiting for her to do something rash, her temper barely holding behind her tongue. Violent thoughts collided in her head, the desire to do something impetuous a string she had yet to completely cut. It was the easier way, the brutish way- but it was not the way Shepard did it. Shepard would resist, The Commander famously turned the other cheek. Chose kindness. Some of her could still seep through.

Even if it was in the form of stony silence.

"Why hide who you are? You are the one person who could reunite everyone."

A bloody icon. Hero. Butcher. Madwoman. Lover. Terrorist. Murderer. Savior. Pathetic.

"There's nothing to explain," a surly statement only dampened by a flinch, "I don't owe you anything."

"So, it wouldn't matter if I told everyone?"

Jane's silence was the answer.

"This is Major Alenko's squad, I'm sure everyone would be interested," Strawberry continued, placing her first foot away from the bedside, "Let alone you being Shepard, the Major's fling is a very juicy topic. I'm sure meeting the woman would be a top priority."

Rahna took several steps away, gliding out of the retrofitted container. Someone pulled her back, Jane regretted the breeze against her exposed backside. Luckily nobody seemed to pay them much mind in the moment.

"No," her eyes lit with tears, "don't. I can't."

Kaidan knew it was the end; Mary couldn't bring herself into accepting that. Luck. Stupidity. Credits. Spite. They had all stopped her death, had prevented her from reaching a low she could not climb out of. The brutal murder of her parents. Losing her unit on Akuze. Hell, even the deaths of friends during her campaign against the Reapers. They hurt like hell, but it never brought her to her knees. Now... in this moment. In the reality of losing Kaidan, she crashed. Tears, sobbing, railing against the ground. It was pathetic.

Was it the loss of her entire family aboard the Normandy, or just one man?

Dark brown eyes met her on her level, gentle the hint of moisture in her deep eyes, "everyone here mourns him."

"Fuck you."

Rahna laughed, offering out her hand and pulling the woman up to her feet, "I won't tell your secret, but I think you should talk to someone. We have-"

"No, nobody else."

"You know the risks of PTSD; you can't push through it."

"I'm fine."

Jane's stare hardened the emotions out-drying the tears riveting down her scarred cheeks.

"Or how about a deal, my silence for a few talks? Nothing official, just friendship."

She considered for several long moments, biting back each bitter comment that fought to come out. It wasn't the time for resistance. Talking wouldn't hurt, especially if it meant Rahna kept silent. What was she supposed to do for the next two weeks? Stare at the wall? Teach a child to swear? Avoid Kaidan's squad as much as humanly possible?

"Friendship may be pushing it."

[ezzydean]

tell me

for @notsuchasecret

i love you 

Mattsun scrunches his nose up in a way that Tooru does not find adorable — except for all ways he finds it disgustingly adorable — and gives Tooru an almost betrayed look as he sets down Tooru’s coffee cup.

“Since when do you like blueberry cappuccino?”  Mattsun licks at his lips and scowls, clearly trying to get rid of the flavor.  “Since when do you like blueberry anything?”

“It’s not like I hated it or anything.”

“You did when you were sixteen.”

Tooru scoffs and takes a sip of his cappuccino.  “I hated a lot when I was sixteen.  People, places, things.  Thankfully it was temporary and I got over most of it.”

“You never hated me,” Mattsun teases.  Tooru sets down his cup with a soft sigh.  He can feel Mattsun’s gaze and he forces himself to meet it.  “Or did you?”

“Not something I’m super proud of but, for at least a little while, yeah I did hate you.”

Mattsun’s gaze flickers around his face.  “You’re serious,” he finally says.

Tooru nods.

Sixteen had not been a good year for him.  Then again seventeen had been a bit of a crushing blow and eighteen had been a nightmare of hard work and an aching body that sometimes felt three times as old as it was.  But sixteen… sixteen sucked.  There’s no nicer way to say it.  He told Mattsun that he hated a lot when he was sixteen and he did.  But it would have been more accurate to tell Mattsun that he hated everything when he was sixteen; his family, his friends, his body, school, volleyball you name it he hated it that year.

He finishes his cappuccino and is rinsing his cup out in the sink when Mattsun finally speaks again.

“I didn’t realize,” Mattsun says quietly.  “I mean I noticed some things that you were suddenly very opinionated about but I didn’t realize that—”  He stops talking suddenly and Tooru glances over his shoulder.  Mattsun is still looking at him but his eyes are a little glazed like maybe he’s looking at Tooru but seeing sixteen year old Tooru instead.  “Oh,” he breathes out.

“Yeah.”

Hajime may have been his best friend since they were kids but that just meant that he sometimes had blinders on when it came to Tooru.  Oh sure he could put his foot down and even now he’s one of the few people who can chastise Tooru with nothing more than a stern look.  But Hajime didn’t always notice the smaller things which, at sixteen, was one of the reasons Tooru hated him for a little while.

Coincidentally noticing those smaller things was the reason that Tooru had hated Mattsun for that same little while.

“I did realize,” Mattsun says softly.

“You did.”

“I just didn’t realize you were serious about it.”

“I don’t think anyone did,” Tooru says airily as he dries off his cup and puts it away.  “And I’m pretty sure you and my sister were the only ones who even noticed enough to call me out on any of it anyway.”

“Is that supposed to be reassuring?  You were a giant miserable mess but oh it was okay because nobody else took it seriously either.  Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Why are you getting so upset?”  Tooru leans against the counter and crosses his arms across his chest defensively at Mattsun’s tone.

“Why am I?  Tooru.  You.”  Mattsun runs his hands down his face and lets out a disbelieving laugh that twists something in Tooru’s chest so sharply he’s a little afraid something just broke in there.

He watches Mattsun shake his head and look up like he’s asking some higher power for guidance and wonders if Mattsun is still in love with him even after all these years.  It’s been a constant in his life for nearly two decades now.  No matter what else is going on in his life he’s always known three things for sure: Iwa-chan is his best friend, his mother’s favorite fruit is peaches, and Mattsun is in love with him.

“Why are you here, Tooru?”  He startles at the question.  At Mattsun’s tone.  At the way Mattsun is studying him.

“What do you mean?  I retired.  I came home.”

“Not here in general.”  Mattsun waves behind himself, gesturing to the apartment as he says, “Here as in: in case you missed it this is my apartment, not yours.”

That something in his chest twists again and this time he’s surprised Mattsun doesn’t seem to hear the sound of it snapping in two.

“Home has never really been a place for me, Mattsun.  It’s always been a handful of people.”  

Tooru spins the ring on his pointer finger idly, staring down at the dark band as he wills his anxiety to cooperate, to not drag him under.  He takes a deep breath, refusing to meet Mattsun’s eyes and he lets out an airy laugh and heads out of the kitchen.  He grabs the few things he had left laying around Mattsun’s apartment and shoves them into his duffel bag.  He had gotten used to not really unpacking things since he left after high school.  He was never entirely sure when he’d be leaving, was always looking out the windows at the sky and twitching with a need to go.  To move.

To run.

He can feel Mattsun’s gaze on him the entire time and it makes him calm and restless in equal measure, something that Mattsun has always been good at.

He’s sitting in front of the door attempting to untie his shoes, duffel bag on the floor next to him, when he feels more than hears Mattsun come to a stop behind him.

“Leaving already?”

Tooru snorts, yanking at the knot in his shoelace.  “Well you made it abundantly clear that I’m not welcome here.”  He curses softly as his shoelace just gets more knotted and tangled.  “So I’m going.”

Mattsun plucks the shoe from his hands and after a minute he holds it in front of Tooru’s face, lace knot-free, and wiggles it when Tooru doesn’t take it right away.  Tooru huffs at him and grabs the shoe.  But he doesn’t put it on right away.  Because the thing is.  He doesn’t want to leave.  He doesn’t want to go back to his empty apartment across the city where he’s barely unpacked despite being back for almost a month now.  He doesn’t want to go and stare at his blank walls and pretend he isn’t ignoring calls from his mother and avoiding Hajime and, for once in his life, hoping nobody recognizes him when he steps outside in the morning.

“I never said that and you know it.  You know what I mean, Tooru.  You always have.”  

He does.  He knows what Mattsun means.  Just like he knows Mattsun loves him.  Just like he knows that clouds go in the sky and ice melts when it’s hot.  He knows.  That doesn’t mean he has any idea what to do with that knowledge.

“What do you want from me?”  He hates how defeated he sounds.  How unsure of everything he sounds.  

He is unsure.  Of almost everything.  But that doesn’t mean he’s okay with people seeing it.

“That depends.”  

He wants to turn around and look at Mattsun.  Or lean backwards and peer up at him.  Or maybe curl into a ball and disappear from the world for a little bit.  He wants a lot of things.  But he already got one of the biggest things he’s ever wanted in life when he went to Argentina for volleyball.  How can he even think about asking for more?

“What does it depend on?”

“Are you going to go halfway across the world again?  Leave everything behind and chase after a dream?”

Pure anger chokes him for a moment, memories of all the people who had told him his dreams were silly or pointless or out of reach suddenly threatening to overwhelm him.  Memories of everyone who had told him he’d never make it.  That he’d never be good enough.  Teachers and coaches and teammates and doctors and fellow students.  

“I didn’t just chase my dream.  I caught it.  I held it in my hands,” he bites out.  “So don’t judge me because you stayed here and putzed yourself into a job at a funeral home.”

Mattsun’s fingers dig into his scalp for a second before running through his hair.  “Again.  I never said that.”

Tooru lets out a shaky breath as his anger vanishes.  It’s always amazed him how easily Mattsun can do that; a simple brush of fingers or bumped shoulder and Tooru settles into his own skin again.  He anchors Tooru, grounds him in a way no one else has ever managed.

“I don’t plan on leaving again,” Tooru whispers.

“Good.  Not that I didn’t want you to chase your dreams.  I did.  I do.  Even if you decided tomorrow to go off again I’d support you.”

Thoughts of leaving flicker through his mind.  Images of places he’s been and places he could go.  Memories of being offered coaching spots and public speaking opportunities.  A couple years ago, a couple months ago, hell a couple weeks ago they sounded tempting.  Now they just sound exhausting.

He’s exhausted.

“So.  What do you want from me, Mattsun?”

“I want you to stay.”  Mattsun settles onto the floor behind him.  He’s a warm weight against Tooru’s back as he wraps his arm’s around Tooru’s waist and tugs him back enough to hook his chin over Tooru’s shoulder.  “You went and you caught your dreams and now you’re back.  I want the chance to catch my dreams.  I want you to stay.  Here.”

Tooru leans back against Mattsun’s chest.

“Here as in your apartment?”

“Here as in this city.  Here as in my life in general, if that’s all I can get.  But if I had it my way?  Here in my apartment.”  He squeezes Tooru and sighs.  “In my arms.”

If there was an Olympic event for most emotional whiplash moments in the span of five minutes he’d definitely be medaling.  Maybe not gold.  But definitely at least a bronze medal.  Because any trace of anger is long gone and his heart feels about seven sizes too big to properly fit in his chest right now.  With Mattsun pressed against his back, breath warm against his cheek, Tooru feels balanced for the first time in a very long time.  

Mattsun has always been waiting for him.  Not in a stagnant way or anything.  Mattsun has lived his own life, has had his fair share of ups and downs and experiences.  But he’s always had a place for Tooru at his side, in his life.  Just waiting for the day Tooru came back.

He can stay planted on the ground and stare up at the night sky without worrying what would happen if he floated off into that fathomless ether.  Because he could shoot off into space, rocket around among the stars a bit, and never feel the slightest bit lost.  He knows that Mattsun will never tie him down, will never drag him under the surface, anchored to the point of drowning.  But he’ll always be there.

Mattsun is his map, his compass, his North Star.

“Do you still love me, Issei?”  Tooru swallows down all his worries and licks the fear from his lips.  His dreams of pro volleyball are his past and Mattsun is his future.  A future that he’s pretty sure will be bright enough to outshine even the sun   one day.  “Are you still in love with me?”

“Yes.”

He closes his eyes and relaxes back into Mattsun’s arms, body boneless and soul drifting free.  

“I missed you,” he admits softly.  “Even when I was on top of the world and had my dreams right there in front of me.  I missed you.”

He can’t say that he’s in love with Mattsun.  Not yet.  But he knows Mattsun understands and he’ll get there eventually.

They have the rest of forever, after all.

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 13 reactions

Well, that was... well. in short I quite enjoyed some of what happened while din was there and I didn’t really care about what happened while he wasn’t there lol. I think it’s becoming increasingly clear that I just don’t care for the episodes dave filoni writes for this show, which is simply a matter of taste I guess. 

(if you loved this episode wholeheartedly -- probably look away now, I’m going to be a bit of a downer about it and I don’t want to shit on your joy haha)

- let’s just get this out of the way first: there’s a lot of stuff around rosaria dawson and transphobia in real life and yeah, of course that affects how I watch the show. I don’t even want to talk that much about ahsoka in this because of it. she was not that good in the role, after seeing how it played out I don’t think the character needed to be in this show at all, and she should never have gotten the role in the first place and that’s about it for what I’ve got to say. 

- dave filoni consistently does things with din’s characterization that feels off and weird to me, subtly out of place with what we see in other episodes (he’s... ruder? more short tempered/cocky/actively or aggressively interpersonal? more prone to express himself directly than he is usually? idk how to describe it but filoni!din always feels one step to the left of what he should be and I’m so hyper-attuned to this character that when something’s a bit iffy with him it throws everything else off haha. it feels like a shallower, more convenient read on him and I don’t like it)  

I also think filoni is almost too familiar with and in love with the source material sometimes? “A Mandalorian and a Jedi? They’ll never see it coming” is undeniably a great line that echoes in decades of deep lore and so on, but dave my good man din had no real idea what a jedi even is until literally this morning. we, the audience, know about this long and storied history, but unless ahsoka spent the afternoon explaining it to him din still only knows the faint outlines of it, he has no personal experience of or attachment to it. it’s not bad, as such, it just rings false to the character based tone of the show for me personally 

- positivity break: baby sitting perched on the dashboard to be close to papa while they’re in hyperspace........sd sdfskdjhfdsakjksdhfkasjd  

also this is some full on madonna and child in the manger shit and I am LIVING for it (odds he’s crying quietly behind the helmet here? pretty damn good if you ask me). the mundanity of what’s essentially the shitty spartan bathroom of the razor crest on one side contrasted with the light and tenderness and love on the other? amazing, a perfect microcosm of what this show does with combining the grittier everyday down to earth stuff in the star wars universe with myth and wonder and magic and through it elevating both

 - the idea of having an iconique samurai/sword duel standoff and a western standoff going on simultaneously is genuinely inspired, but in action it didn’t really work for me. (the sword duel stuff needs these moments of stillness with sudden outbursts of violence and then stillness again, the western standoff needs mounting tension until it’s nearly unbearable, and cutting between them the way they did you sort of didn’t get either to its full potential. again it’s a cool idea, though, I hope someone picks it up and does it better at some point)

- seeing a jedi and a mandalorian wander together through a burned out wasteland left desolate by greed and warfare should have hit me harder than it did but for some reason it didn’t, idk. thematically sound, though, I like it a lot on the metaphor level

- I LOVE that pure beskar makes a specific sound, and that it’s an almost ethereal noise like the high clear chime of a distant bell. also now din has something to fight light sabers with that isn’t the dark saber which makes me so happy because you guys I do not want him to be the mand’alor. keep that funky laser sword away from my dad, apart from killing him at the end that is literally the most boring way to end his arc pls do NOt 

- wow they really went in hard on the samurai stuff in this one huh! there is a part of my mchanzo-loving heart that thrives on seeing a space cowboy and a space samurai team up, *wild otp-fuelled whisper* they’re twin genres inextricably entwined okay they belong together if you see this spreadsheet I’ve made over here -- 

- even knowing it was just a trick I felt such intense distress seeing the signet pauldron away from din. like the attachment I have to these pieces of metal because That Armour Means Dad... wild  

- they really chose the dumbest name possible for the baby huh fsajdfhsaj I agree with din his name is ‘kid’ now (eh just give me a while to get used to it probably I’ll come around)

also... you know what I’ve said before about shrinking the big unknowable galaxy ‘the mandalorian’ has been setting up? wow did they do that big time in this one, and it makes me feel decidedly :/. why does the baby have to come from the jedi temple, is there truly no other tradition of force users in the entire galaxy he could be from? WHY do you have to pull thrawn into this when most people watching this show won’t even know why he’s such a big deal? is this a stealth tease for a rebels sequel? if so why spend an entire episode of this show that only gets eight precious episodes a season on it??   

- on a more fun positive note: baby’s clothes are clean again, so it’s confirmed that din does wash them (and I guess that he does have some means of washing clothes aboard the razor crest!). I loved... most of the dad and baby stuff in this one, but then don’t I always I’m easy to please that way haha (the ‘playing catch’ sequence felt a bit off to me but I don’t know why. din being like ‘he’s so stubborn’ wasn’t... eh. didn’t land right. “that would be a first” was fun tho lol) 

- having ahsoka state the baby’s feelings out loud like that felt... weird? and also kind of unnecessary in parts, like yeah he’s a baby who’s been passed along to different groups of strangers and experimented on by empire scientists, you don’t need to spell it out for me that he’s been scared and lonely, or at least spell it out more interestingly? it’s such blunt force storytelling where it didn’t need to be? there are more elegant ways to get the same things across, I am absolutely convinced 

- ...wow while I was watching the episode I was mostly like ‘okay this is Fine I can go along with it’ but seeing what I’m thinking about in hindsight... yeah probably my least favourite episode of this show full stop haha, it took the spot from chapter 5 which was also a filoni ep

- I did 100% genuinely adore the whole part of din approaching the town and meeting the magistrate. consistently hiding the baby behind his cape and his arm? being deliberately, teeth-grindingly dispassionate with everyone, just giving them nothing? getting to see a bit of professional bounty hunter din again? wonderful in every way, I love this man  

- lots of meaningful shots of baby in the middle with a mando on one side and a jedi on the other, it’s almost like they’re setting up some Themes here lol 

- ...do you think din told ahsoka about either the rhino-levitating or the force choking. because girl I don’t think not training him is going to make this just go away haha, he just won’t know what he’s doing  

- it makes me so sad that baby connects his force powers with being abused :( (also a heartbreaking sign of just how much he cared about din from the very beginning, since he used it on the mudhorn to save him anyway ;________; was that like. literally the first time he sensed kindness and affection in anyone in like twenty five years or... ) 

- I understand why ahsoka would feel this way because of her past and specific traumas, but tbh attachment in a baby? probably a good thing, he doesn’t really have the higher brain functions to cultivate non-attachment yet and needs a safe figure because again. he is a baby. 

good on her for realizing it’s not a task she can take on both for the baby’s sake and her own, and also that din is that baby’s Dad though. the way she smiled at the end watching them leave seemed vaguely hopeful/had a little bit of wonder in it, like maybe she felt the potential for something good there, something she couldn’t conceptualize from her background but could sense the tentative outlines of anyway?  

(also so much pressure on a lil bb to decide his path... his dilemmas should be limited to what colour socks he wants to wear today not the course of his entire life :( I know he’s a magic baby but.......) 

- idk maybe I’ll find more affection of this episode through rewatches, you never know