#it’s stressful to play when there’s this like. unsaid expectation that *I* have to save the town???

[theshadowrealmitself]

It’s kinda difficult to feel that sorry for Pierre losing business to the new mart when he’s like. taking credit for my hard work. Like I feel for you bud, I don’t wish that on anyone, but also like, fuck you a tiny bit :/

[alixinwwonderland]

“Let’s go, I’ll buy you dinner. And maybe breakfast.”

It has been a very, very long day.

Midge isn't complaining, to be clear. The NBC gig is the biggest step in her career yet, and it turns out that she really enjoys working in television - something she hadn't expected. There's a whole new crew of people who have quickly gone from work acquaintances to actual friends, and it turns out that it's really, really nice to have more than one or two friends "in the business."

That being said, however, their friendship can't fill one very specific void in her life. Specifically, the one left by a particular tall, curly-haired comic who she hasn't seen since a bittersweet airport run-in that left far too many things unsaid.

She always knew that, if they crossed that line, things wouldn't ever be able to be the same. What she didn't expect was him fucking off to California, just days after handing her her ass (and multiple orgasms), leaving her to dwell on... well, a lot of things: what she could have done differently, what he might be doing now, whether all is really as "well" as he claimed, what his hands felt like on her...

Most days, she's able to push those thoughts out of mind. Today, though, was a two-episode filming day, her mother is in a flurry over some petty act of sabotage, and Joel is being particularly Joel. In short, she's too tired to fend off the thoughts and the longings that creep in when she lets her guard down.

So when she stumbles out of the studio, declining the crew's offer for a late-night bite, all she wants is to go home, take her shoes off, and pretend that she's not wishing she had someone to go home to.

Despite working side-by-side with Alfie, Midge doesn't really believe much in magic. That is, until the voice she most wants to hear emerges from the shadow outside the stage door entrance.

"That was quite the show tonight, Mrs. Maisel."

She whips her head around just in time to see Lenny pushing himself forward from where he was leaning against the wall. Her eyes can't help scanning over him, eagerly searching for any clues about what he's been up to since they last saw each other. There's a familiar exhaustion in the slouch of his shoulders and something unsettled in the twitch of his fingers. But his face looks a little fuller (though those cheekbones should still be in an art museum somewhere), his eyes are as clear and sharp as ever, and the little smile playing at the corners of his mouth has the same effect it always has on her.

"Gee thanks, Mr. Bruce," she says. "Someone told me 'just work, and keep working,' so. Here I am. Working."

"Sounds like a very wise someone," he quips.

"Sometimes. Other times, he's a complete bonehead who can dish out advice but won't take it," Midge says pointedly. He at least has the grace to look abashed.

"It sounds like maybe he just needed a little time after the right someone gave him some tough advice. Maybe that's something you can relate to?"

And damn him, because of course she can. That's always been at the heart of their... whatever this is. They're nothing alike on the outside, save for their signature color and chosen profession. But inside, where no one can see, something within each of them found something kindred from that very first police car ride.

"Maybe," she allows. "But I'm still mad! But..." She takes the risk, reaching up to smooth at his lapels and leave her hand there. "I'm also really happy to see you."

He places his hand over hers, then lifts it so he can press his lips to it.

"Got anywhere special to be tonight?" he asks. When she shakes her head no, he nods seriously. "Let's go. I'll buy you dinner... and maybe, breakfast?"

"We've got a lot to talk about before breakfast, mister," Midge warns as they head down the sidewalk. "But," she allows, "what kind of girl do you think I am? I don't buy breakfast, I make breakfast. In my own kitchen," she stresses, and oh boy is she in trouble when she sneaks a sidelong glance just in time to see him lose the battle to keep a broad, boyish grin from breaking across his face.

[myrcella]

“I will hunt you, and I will break you!”

-—

This outburst far exceeded the vanity table incident a few days prior. Castle Dimitrescu seemed to respond to its mistress’ unbridled anger in tandem, croaking and cooling, and a flash of lightning broke through the window as if on cue—as if Alcina was equally as entwined with the village.

Your body jolted, but you were steeled by one of your daughters’ hands on your shoulder: Bela looked at you with unseen empathy. If it were any other moment, the gesture would have been a funny and fond one to reflect on—who was the elder and younger here?—but now there was pity in her eyes, and you were grateful.

“She will calm.”

“We have seen her worse...”

“But an ugly man thing never managed to touch us before.”

Daniela was the last to chip in, and her tone was clipped. She was skittish, the girl who played so often with fire and cackled when she burned. She was uncharacteristically afraid, now. It made you terrified.

Rose instinctively felt the panic in the air too. Four little limbs beat hard in yours, squirming and wriggling in a silken blanket, and an exhausted red face looked around, crying. Despite your wife’s reprimands to the man-thing who had been flung down several floors, the child was indeed in the castle, but very much claimed.

“Oh, Rosie...”

Your chest thundered but you ignored it for the baby, who needed your heart more than you did. You coddled her to your chest, pressed your nose into her downy hair that smelled milksweet. She was still human, so fragile and malleable. It wouldn’t be much longer...

“Mama is here. Don’t you worry... Don’t cry... You have all you need here, I promise... You’re better here...”

(Sometimes you did wonder if you said such things to yourself to soothe your guilt.)

Every minute was a small century, before the door to the room slowly opened. The familiar imposing figure of Alcina ducked below the doorway to sluggishly enter, and when she straightened, her eyes were glazed and jaw set firmly. She had not calmed completely, not yet, but you knew she needed you.

“Alcina...” It was barely even a whisper. Your voice was caught in your stomach.

“Mother, that awful creature! Just awful!”

“He shot me! In the chest! Right here! It hurt!”

“Even the flies didn’t want his stench!”

“And you had said he was tasty before!”

“No, definitely stale!”

Cassandra had crooned and glided over, shadowed by Daniela. Bela distanced herself as the air cleared, consigning herself to the darkness as she usually did. The girls were old enough to reconcile themselves, though. They could fight, they thrilled themselves in violence.

“Daughters.” Alcina was clearly struggling to level her tone. Her eyes were still fading away from the golden that they turned when she was annoyed... or excited. “I am glad you girls are safe. The man-thing is... displaced for the time being. However, I expect he will be back as a thorn in our side ere long, and I expect he will be harsher.”

Her gaze snapped from the girls to you, who would ordinarily wait in excitement.

“Go, you three. Keep hunting him. I want him broken. Never mind what I have been instructed.”

Bela, Cassandra and Daniela almost immediately fluttered away to whatever recesses they occupied when ordered. Then it was just you and your wife—the Countess who had to take a breath before gliding merely an inch away from you.

You were daunted. You stepped back at first and pressed Rose harder against your chest. You hadn’t meant to—you’d panicked and you were still anxious—but the hurt was clear in Alcina’s eyes.

“Do not fear me,” she said. She was agitated. Her voice was stressed. “Please.”

She had perhaps only said ‘please’ once or twice in all the decades. So your fear relented, and you melted back into your rightful place—against her large body.

“Draga mea, concubină mea,” Alcina breathed with raw adoration, having to kneel to meet even a fraction of your height. One of her hands dwarfed your head, easily. She placed both to your cheeks, cupping your face, pressing her forehead to yours with closed eyes. You copied her, the surprising warmth of her skin like a safety blanket when she touched you. And when she had a moment of reprieve, finally, she kissed your lips chastely.

“He didn’t hurt me...” you answered the unsaid question. He hadn’t, but he had grabbed the babe from your arms and unsuccessfully tried to wrestle her away, thus Rose’s distress. “He wants her. I can’t give her up, Alcina. S-she...”

“No.” Alcina’s word was firm. “You shan’t give her up. I promised you a child, you and I, and this is her. She was never his. I made it so for you.”

She looked down hurriedly at Rose, whose chubby face was stained with tear tracks. Her tiny hand was rubbing at her eye but she had seemingly soothed a great deal, her head tilted towards you.

“See, she seeks your comfort. She has forgotten... him.” Alcina hissed even the mere implication of the man through her teeth. “I will never submit.”

For a few beats, you regarded her. She had been your lover through so many eras, but she still reduced you to the young peasant girl you had once been, dying in the dirt, before she lifted you up and saved you with the gift. She had lived so much longer than you, seen and devoured so many, and yet she chose you as her equal in perpetuity.

“Hold me. Hold us.”

Alcina needed no further instruction. Her long arms wrapped very easily around you in your entirety, encasing Rose too in the embrace. It grew an uncomfortable position quickly, so she guided you to move to her lap when she sat in one of her favoured armchairs of this room. There, you were once again small and naive and her protege, looking to her for guidance.

You had known for some time there was something far more frightful beneath Alcina’s surface, something untouchable and something you were once unsure you would see. But the situation with the man-thing was spiralling out of control, and whatever secret was in Alcina’s skin was broiling steadily.

Still, when you met her gaze, you felt her love. Her kind loved deeper than what you had been born as. They loved for so long, so fiercely and primally loyal—bound physically as well as emotionally to each other. Since she had marked you the bond between you both had never faltered. It was in your very blood, and you were in hers.

“I won’t let him continue,” Alcina said, quietly. More to herself, you assumed. You kissed the corner of her mouth and she looked at you with gratitude. Then, hungrily, she took your chin between her fingers and opened your mouth up to hers, kissing you more resolutely. “Sângele din sângele meu.”

“In vecii vecilor,” you said, dutifully.

Rose quieted between you and her eyes had drooped closed. Whatever beast raged inside Alcina had retreated for the time being.

Another one, however, still stalked the bowels of your home.

[bratz-kitten]

Hello there love, a fellow 11th house mercury here! just saw a post where you talked a little about that placement and it was the most accurate thing I’ve ever read hahaha so my question is if you could elaborate a little bc i find it a little hard to understand that placement. my mercury is sadly also in retrograde in my chart so that doesn’t make things easier…

thank you so much!! much love xxx

okay so, for reference, i touched a bit on mercury in the 11th house here and here (which was mostly about mercury in the 12th house anyway), but the biggest point i made there was that this mercury makes you someone who needs constant intellectual stimulation, we have very restless thoughts and it can be maddening sometimes because our brains just don't shut up... ever. which is why we need to be engaging in conversation so much or at least letting our thoughts out some other way, in a blog, for example (take it from me lmfao). it's interesting that the 11th house rules technology as well as social circles, because it sure feels like we have a non-stop podcast in our minds. like, the only time where i feel like my brain is experiencing a moment of peace is afterward a really intense conversation, when i get to debate my ideas with someone who's just as passionate (and slightly insane) as me.

that being said, we prefer to keep conversation light-hearted and fun. this house for mercury shows an ease when it comes to talking with whoever, so you might have a lot of acquaintances. you might even feel like wherever you go, everyone knows your name and it can be a very unsettling feeling at times. as in, you get introduced to a group of people you've never met before but somehow they all know who you are, so you might experience people gossiping a lot about you, making up rumors that get widely spread; people make all kinds of assumptions about you. that's because even though you know a lot of people, you keep the conversation purposely superficial and only open up to like three people, if that much.

now, keep in mind that this is a double-edged sword: not only do people gossip a lot about people, but you tend to gossip as well. even if you tell yourself it's light-hearted and you only do it with your closest friends, it can be too much at times, and it's very easy to cross the line of "i'm just curious" to being downright shitty, and you need to watch out for what comes out of your mouth because you do stress a lot about having good morals.

you possess a lot of social intelligence and you might be very aware of that, using it in everyday matters – when you enter a group, you start observing the dynamics that play between everyone: who talks the most with who, who feels the most or less comfortable with who, who's still only acquaintances and who's falling in love but doesn't know it yet; you observe all of that and start taking mental notes about people's behaviors: the way they talk, their humor (especially if they laugh at the expense of others or not), if they overshare, what they leave unsaid; you take in all of that and that's your way of getting to know people so that you can start predicting their behavior. like i said, you find it very hard to trust others enough to open up so you make others prove themselves before you do so. in friendships, this is less biting, as in you don't just walk up to someone and go like hey prove me of your worth lmfao, you simply start observing their actions and if they pass the vibe check, they're in.

the problem starts in your romantic relationships – this is where you make someone prove themselves again and again that they're deserving of your trust and loyalty as you continuously doubt them. and suddenly, this isn't the dating stage; it's like your potential partner is harry potter going through the triwizard tournament just to get the prize of 10% of your trust. and it's, like, no. stop it. you can't expect people to drop everything to offer you the world while you're hesitant about even holding their hand in public. that's self-sabotaging and it's just a way for you to ensure that you don't get too intimate with people, that you don't reveal too much of yourself. relationships are about the equality between giving and taking, and you can sometimes be caught up in wanting to receive before even considering giving.

the best way i can put this is through an example: kim kardashian has her mercury in the 11th house. so, it's no wonder that this mercury makes someone really fucking ambitious, sometimes even without you realizing. the 11th house rules dreams and humanity as a whole, so you might be constantly in tune with your dreams and finding a way to get yourself further to them. like i said, this can be unconscious at times; perhaps you take on a small project that's meant to be fun and insignificant but suddenly it blows up out of proportion, suddenly your whole life revolves around it and you're getting recognized for it. you can be very calculating and borderline manipulative at times since you're so focused on trying to control the circumstances around you. not even just in real life, perhaps when you're playing video games you find yourself focusing a lot of your attention on understanding the characters and their motivations; and then, when you meet someone who feels shady as fuck and who looks like they could betray you, your thinking process isn't how can i stop this person from betraying me, it's how can i use this person's betrayal to my advantage. it's like, jesus christ on steroids lmfao. you have a talent for turning difficult situations into the diamond in the rough, for thriving when facing obstacles.

you're very cynical about your friendships, you understand that most people don't have good intentions and you're likely to make a clear distinction between party friends and actual friends. the first group are the people who you have casual fun with, who you do stupid shit with and who perhaps you engage with to keep up appearances or further your connections, while the second group are the actual people who you'd ride or die for, and those are scarce.

here, there's a yearning for actual friendships present even through your fear of doing so, and you might find yourself getting occupied with issues of the 11th house: philosophy, metaphysics, individuality vs. humanity as a whole, freedom, moral issues – for you, nothing is taboo enough, just like nothing is progressive or out-of-the-box enough. my advice for people with this placement is to read the greeks. seriously, hearing plato spend a whole book discussing what is morality is like our wet dream. you love debating especially with your friends, and if you can't talk with someone for hours and hours on end with the conversation never once stalling, then they're not fit to be your friends at all. besides this, you might be very drawn to politics, power, any knowledge that helps you achieve your dreams.

you have big dreams and you might feel a strong calling to help as many people as possible, to save the world, to have your voice be heard. your goals might be downright inconceivable to some people, so you can feel ostracized by the members of the community where you live: perhaps your parents and other family members don't believe in you and would rather you just stick to the plan they forged for you; perhaps you were forced into choosing between their path or yours; no matter what, the choice lies in your hands and so does the power to achieve whatever you desire.

[nincompoopydoo]

PAIRING, BAGELS, REPEAT

— PALM TO PALM IS HOLY PALMER’S KISS ; PART 3 / ?

PAIRING: Bruce Wayne x reader

WORD COUNT: 1846

SUMMARY: You’re back to teaching at Gotham High and you end up overlooking rehearsals for the GHS drama club’s upcoming annual play: Romeo and Juliet that no one ever attends. In the spirit of keeping your students’ hopes up, you decide to take it upon yourself to draft out a plan to drive more people to come to the play. The key is the man you’re in love with.

WARNINGS: Vague description of a nightmare, death and an annoying teenager.

A/N: This is really going slowly like a true slow burn. I hope yall like this one. Enjoy!

MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST

In the light of your unemployment as a teacher, Gotham High miraculously offered your old job back after Mrs Wilson, one of the senior English Literature teachers, died of a heart attack unannounced. In all seriousness, apologies were made, admitting they had a mistake with firing you because well, you were clearly a passionate teacher. To your surprise, you were told your students even missed you. Hence, you accepted a job from GHS once again because you would do anything to avoid the smell of burgers and the sounds of hungry crying children. After the whole burglary incident, the Big Belly Burger at midtown was forever doomed as customers gradually decreased over time. It was Gotham after all, people should be used to these kinds of things by now. Including witnessing Batman saving you, the whole experience felt like a fever dream. As excited you were and weirdly unbothered by the whole near-death experience, you realized that if you were to talk about it, no one would genuinely believe you anyway. He was a myth to most citizens of Gotham, but you’re an exception because you’re well acquainted with the knowledge that Bruce definitely knows Batman.

And oh boy, do they talk.

It’s your secret to keep and so is the Batarang you stole. You’re also dying to tell Bruce.

So, you find yourself back in the hallways, crowded with sweaty teenagers, but you would choose this over anything else in a heartbeat. Apart from returning to teaching uninterested students about the works of Shakespeare and Harper Lee and forcing reading lists onto them, you are also replacing Mrs Wilson as the GHS Drama Club’s advisor. Stage performance may be personally foreign to you but plays were practically your forte. That was how you ended up spending your Tuesday afternoons, preparing the members for the club’s annual play. This time, they decided to perform the classic: Romeo and Juliet.

As an English teacher, you were frankly sick of the play, forbidden love was a tad overrated to you. Yet the kids were genuinely trying their best. Shaniqua and Oscar were currently rehearsing their lines as the two infamous star-crossed lovers; You watched them with pride. The two were quiet in your classes but they truly shone on the stage of the school theatre.

“And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss—teach, what does this whole scene even mean?” Shaniqua exclaims and you chuckle, “This scene is simply a metaphor where Romeo is a pilgrim wanting to erase his sins and Juliet is a saint. So, he is basically trying to convince her to kiss him so that he can truly be free of sin,” your explanation echoes through the room, and you notice Oscar turning red when you mention the word ‘kiss’. It was clear as day that the poor boy really liked the girl he’s currently hand in hand with but you don’t want him to feel nervous and uncomfortable about the thought of kissing her. “Now Oscar, you can kiss her on the cheek and that’s fine. Shaniqua, say it with more emotion, okay? Everyone got it?” The response you received was a sputter of hums and nods. Before you could continue, Josh, who plays Lord Capulet and is sitting lazily on the handmade throne, speaks up much to your dismay, “Why is it so important that we put so much effort into this. It’s not like anyone is going to come.” The kids around him began agreeing with his statement, and it was honestly completely expected of him but it was the truth. No one attends the drama club’s annual play. As you're trying to calm everyone down, your phone buzzes on the table in front of you. It’s a text from Bruce, asking if you could come over tonight, phrasing it like he’s a schoolboy sneaking from his parents to meet with a girl late at night. Then, like an epiphany you have an idea although there’s an eighty percent chance it wouldn’t go through. Nevertheless, you turn to the rest of the students with a hint of a smile on your lips. “I might have just the idea to solve that.”

-

A brief span seemed like an eternity when sleep doesn’t come easy to you. Tonight was a different case; thoughts were completely clear and concise. In much need of sleep, you steal the chance to savour in this clarity and serenity for as long as you could. To feel his warmth, arm gently resting on your abdomen and the occasional whiff of his deodorant from his ebony shirt you’re dressed in. If this was what bliss feels like, you never want it to go away. Your eyes grow heavy, flickering into darkness due to exhaustion from a long day of rehearsals. At once, you’re struck with the reminder of the idea you had this afternoon. It is more of a favour, involving none other than Bruce. There’s a tinge of guilt whenever favours are involved because you never liked asking for help. You were furiously independent and responsible, relying on others was out of the question. Yet, Bruce has always seemed to find a way to weave himself in your mistakes and problems, constantly there to help out. You have to remind yourself this isn’t about you. It’s for the kids. Special guest, Bruce Wayne, playboy and billionaire. Sounds awesome.

As your consciousness begins ebbing away, you feel Bruce shift from beside you, grasp tightening upon your waist. Before your dazed mind could even fully process that he was in the midst of a nightmare, his eyes are wide open, heart-pounding and it seizes him up instantly. With deep breaths, he closed his eyes once more, unable to shake the feeling of dread that rattles in him. Then, a sudden cold touch to his arm—he jumps and snaps his head to look over his shoulder.

It’s you, still laid in bed with a prominent frown upon your brows. Your hand squeezes his forearm and all he feels is instant relief. His heart still pounds, not in fear but with affection. “Are you okay?” you drawled as you watch his lingering hand, fingers weaved between the strands of hair. The silver ones glint under the low light, contrasting the deep brown ones. You notice how his hair had grown along with his five o’clock shadow becomes more evident by the days. His face away from you, finally nodding in response to your question. “Yeah, just... a bad dream. His voice is subdued as he shifts under the sheets, head leaning against the headboard. Despite your weakened state, you bring yourself to sit up, twisting your body to face him properly. "You wanna talk about it?” you say, patting his shoulder lightly in a comforting manner. You watch him rub his eyes, exhale tightly and shake his head. “No. Anything but that.”

His response comes out almost harsh but Bruce doesn’t mean for it to be perceived in that way. His dream was the usual, the normal ones he’s used to by now but in times of stress overwork, they have started to become more intense and violent. This time it involved you, for the first time, and he watched you vividly get shot in the forehead—trails of his memory as Batman when he encountered you at the burger restaurant with the muzzle of a gun inches away from you. It haunts him to think that if the circumstances were different if you hadn’t texted him those dreaded four words, you might be dead.

He certainly is not telling you about the dream. Never in a million years.

Bruce turns to you and you’re still staring at him, worry carved deep in your furrowed brows. Change of topic was merely necessary at this point. “So, how has school been? The kids still mean to you?” Classic Bruce, always sweeping his problems under the antique Persian rug. You don’t blame him because you wouldn’t know better.

It was your turn to sigh at the mention of school but since tonight’s pillow talk is heading towards your job as an English teacher at GHS, you might as well use the opportunity to pitch in your plan. “Still mean, but the drama club kids are really great,” You thumb the edge of the blanket, unable to hide your growing smile. “Speaking of which, the annual play is next Friday and they have been rehearsing all week but,” you paused as you watched his right brow gradually lift. “No one comes for it. Like, no one and I hate to see all their efforts just thrown out the window like that—”

“So, you want me to go for it.”

You blinked, wondering if your explanations were too obvious of its underlying intent or Bruce could just read you like an open book. You won’t be surprised if it’s the latter.

“If it’s no biggie. You don’t have to because I know you’re very busy but I don’t want the special guest to end up being the Big Belly Burger mascot.” Your smile widens and Bruce chuckles. Hell, it’s probably past midnight and you’re still able to find ways to be terribly funny. Literally terrible. After a beat of silence, he clears his throat. “I’ll clear my schedule.” It didn’t need much anticipation or thought because despite everything going on in his life, he knows he’ll do just about anything for you. You’re practically beaming at him and he finally sees it’s all worth it in the end. “Thank you, Bruce.” Your voice is sweet, and it makes his heart swell ever so slightly.

He sometimes wishes the two of you weren’t trapped in this loophole of unsaid confessions and hidden strong emotions for the other.

It almost comes naturally when he leans to you and presses a swift kiss to your forehead. Instead, it’s contradicting everything the two of you consider normal. He isn’t thinking straight and now your smile has disappeared, mouth agape and eyes very wide. Your brain stops.

Uh, what the hell just happened?

It hits him like a punch to the gut and the growing awkward silence is deafening. Yet, he doesn’t apologise because if he does, it doesn’t mean anything when in reality, it means so much more than just an accidental gesture. You don’t mention anything because you don’t objectify his actions. Kissing Bruce was fine when there are no strings attached but a peck to the forehead is way too affectionate for the man.

Before the both of you begin to overthink the events of a few moments ago, Bruce’s rational conscience kicks in and he clears his throat. “Get some sleep. You had a long day today.” He pats you on the shoulder awkwardly and you hum, shifting your head to lay back on the pillow. “Yesterday.” you correct him as it’s well past midnight. He chuckles, now laying flat on his back as he stares at the ceiling. Silently, the two of you agree to forget whatever happened a minute ago and to just...sleep it off.

TAGLIST:

@raineeace

[jaxsteamblog]

Ice Queen

Click here to read the full fic on AO3!

After the borders were tacked down, and things returned slowly back to normal, the mundane aspects of life started to bubble back up. Thuy was off with her group, still working on the brand new world that opened in seemingly random points around the world. The Earth Empire was restructuring, a delightful task full of awkward meetings and forgotten names on Katara’s end, and so they were all expecting new ambassadors.

Zuko had to return to the palace for that. They had discussed for days what to do about Izumi, wondering what the best course of action was. Katara decided to meet her appointment in the new central palace in Republic City, figuring that Izumi could more easily spend time with her father should the need arise.

Not that they could figure out what was going on with their five-year-old since the news broke.

“Auntie!” Kya bellowed as she ran through the wide entry hall. Her small voice bounced off the cool marble and echoed in the empty space. Sokka and Suki followed; Sokka’s arm was thrown nervously over Suki’s shoulders.

“Hello dear one.” Katara murmured as Kya ran into her, putting her small arms around Katara’s hips. Her niece was the spitting image of Sokka, with only the faint reddish hue in her hair linking her to Suki. It made her heart ache sometimes, seeing the South Pole face and saying her mother’s name.

It was in these moments that she was relieved Kya had been born first, securing Sokka’s claim to the name.

“Can we practice now?” Kya asked excitedly.

“Don’t you want to see Izumi?” Katara asked curiously, too quick to think.

Kya’s face smoothed and she stepped back.

“Oh. Right. Sure.” She said and darted past Katara into the palace.

“She’s been really excited about this trip.” Suki said, looking after her daughter’s retreating form.

“Should we really be doing all this formal stuff so soon?” Sokka interjected and Suki sighed heavily.

“She’s a Waterbender. Everyone knows it and they’re asking questions.” Katara answered.

“I seem to recall someone being extremely pissed off about forced expectations and public announcements.” Sokka countered.

Katara gave him a stern look but he didn’t budge.

“I’m not taking her away or anything. She’ll just have to come for training sometimes, which of course means you both will be staying.” Katara glanced over at Suki, who smiled. “And if she chooses not to be my heir later on, then we figure something else out. It’s up to her.”

“How is Izumi taking it?” Suki asked.

Katara looked back over her shoulder, as if her daughter would appear.

“Zuko thinks she’s a late bloomer, but I know. I don’t know if that makes things worse or not.” She said and then sighed, turning back. “She’s not really talking about it.”

“And Lu Ten?” Suki inquired.

“He’s definitely a Firebender, but no fire yet. Which is a blessing I think.” Katara shook her head and shrugged.

“We’re doing the best we can.” She added.

“You think this would be easy, since we saved the world twice.” Sokka muttered.

“It is what it is.” Katara said, waving her hand in an attempt to dispel the lingering mood. “I’ve got some tea waiting.”

Kya, having forgotten her earlier disappointment, ran screaming through the halls with Izumi, two Swamp Tribe children, and a North Pole boy. Katara kept her amusement to herself as she watched the flinching security guards as something crashed in their earpieces. With the carnage, she assumed the younger brother of the Swamp Tribe matriarch was babysitting this time.

“So I assume I’m keeping my appointment?” Sokka asked as he plucked a red bean bun from the platter. Now deeply in their thirties, Katara had hoped he would stop eating like a child but half of the bun was shoved unceremoniously into his mouth.

“Nepotism at its finest.” Katara said as an answer. “No one else really wanted to go, seeing how Zuko spends most of his time here and the Prime Minister is kind of…”

“Dull.” Suki finished for her and Katara pointed back at her.

“I really liked that other guy.” Sokka said, taking a drink from his mug.

“Sato? Very nice man. His son Hiroshi always played so well with Izumi. Maybe next time.” Katara said and sat back. The banality relaxed her, and she wished her work would go no further than this. “I’ve finalized my schedule with Dong-Lee and dad, and nothing has really changed.” Katara continued.

“Still ignoring him?” Sokka asked.

“I’m not ignoring him.” Katara snapped. “I just think he needs to spend a little more time at the South Pole. With the people he actually represents.”

“Malina really isn't all that bad.” Sokka said and Katara glared at him. He responded by shoving the other half of the bun into his mouth.

“Look, the point is, the Earth Empire has finally selected their ambassador and he’s arriving tomorrow. There’s going to be a big, fancy dinner and I’ll introduce Kya as my heir.” Katara said.

“So where’s dad?” Sokka asked, his mouth still mostly full.

Katara slammed a hand on the table. “This isn’t about dad!”

“He’s on the triumvirate.” Suki said gently.

“And I am the head.” Katara retorted. Shaking her head, she deflated. “He’s flying up this evening. I figured he would’ve told you.”

“We haven’t caught up in a bit. Did you see what’s happening in the news right now?” Sokka replied and Katara snorted. For weeks there had been almost nothing talked about that wasn’t related to the spirits.

A knock at the door made them all turn.

“Come in.” Katara called. The door opened and a guard poked her head in.

“Excuse me, your Majesty, but Prince Lu Ten has woken up from his nap.” She said.

Sokka jumped up, shoving the back of Suki’s chair as he moved.

“Hey!” Suki exclaimed with a laugh. “You can’t monopolize all of the baby time!”

“Those freaky twins aren’t here, so I’m taking what I can get.” Sokka yelled back, sliding past the flustered guard to run into the hall.

After everyone was unpacked, and had a proper lunch, Sokka and Suki took Izumi and Lu Ten out into the gardens for a walk. Katara and Kya then made their way down to the practice grounds. The talk of her dad and growing stress of the next few days weighed on Katara and she hoped that this moment with her niece would cheer her.

The sun was shining, and it was a crisp day that she cherished in the early spring. The sea was a few miles away from the palace, but the building was situated atop a bending made hill so Katara could see ripples of blue-gray between the skyscrapers. A particularly strong breeze would occasionally bring the scent of salt water to her doorstep.

Kya held Katara’s hand as they walked over the small footbridge to the flat square. The training ground was covered in soft gravel and bordered by channels of water. It was a place they could all practice together, though more recently it was used to smooth out Toph’s plans for her new sport.

“Auntie?” Kya asked as they walked onto the gravel.

“Yes dear?”

“Is Uncle going to teach Izumi firebending?”

Anxiety plucked at a tendon in the back of Katara’s neck.

“Izumi isn’t a Firebender, sweetie.”

“Uncle says you don’t know yet.”

“Well…” Katara drifted, letting go of Kya’s hand and looking off into the empty air. “Your uncle didn’t have a strong spark at Izumi’s age, but he still had one. Izumi doesn’t, and that’s okay.”

“But how do you know? Is it because you’re a Waterbender?”

“I think so.”

“Will you teach me?”

“In time.”

“Auntie?”

“Yes dear?”

“Who taught you waterbending?”

Katara’s entire neck spasmed and her shoulders shot up to her ears. Muttering nonsense under her breath, she called some of the water from the channels and smoothed out the knots in her muscles.

Kya, her mother, had been there when Katara found her first instructor. It was Kya’s blood that Katara used in her final test with Hama.

“An elder taught me.” Katara said, using a truth to blur the unsaid horror. “She lives in a village somewhere in the South Pole now.”

It went against everything she had ever been taught to even consider killing Hama. Revenge took more than it gave, and Hama was not only an elder, but the only other South Pole Waterbender alive. She had returned Hama to the South Pole under heavy guard and with charms a Kyoshi Warrior had picked up from a guru in the Earth Kingdom. Hama had promised no further violence, being overcome with the promise of going home. She did not return to her village, to Katara’s village, but she was taken back home.

Kya had been buried at the prison, with hopes that she would be returned as well.

They were still waiting.

“Auntie?” Kya asked cautiously.

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” Katara said brightly. “Did you say something?”

“Were you thinking about the war?” Kya asked and Katara flinched.

“Why do you say that?” She questioned.

“Papa looks like that too sometimes.” Kya answered.

“I’m fine sweetie.” Katara forced a smile and juggled three balls made of water. “Ready to practice?”

They practiced for a couple of hours before Kya inevitably got tired and asked to get a drink. By then, Sokka and Suki returned and Katara had to finish business of her own. Dong-Lee, the Swamp Tribe matriarch, was waiting for her with a dense looking folder.

The afternoon wound down that way, with Sokka making a call to Zuko about their next meeting. Suki took charge of all the children currently in the palace, telling stories and generally keeping the chaos relegated to one room. By dinner, most of them had calmed. Just in time for Hakoda to arrive.

Although completely expected, Katara still grumbled as Malina stepped into the main hall.

“Gran-Gran!” Kya and Izumi both yelled and Malina knelt down to hug them both.

“You’re going to pull something Tara.” Sokka said, keeping his voice low, and patting her upper back firmly.

“Shut up.” Katara grumbled, idly twisting the anchor bead of one hair loop.

“Oh look-” Sokka started just as Katara registered the third figure coming into view.

“Bato!” Katara said, her voice amplified by surprise.

Bato dropped his shoulder bag and strode forward, his arms open. Katara met him and they embraced each other tightly.

“What are you doing here?” Katara asked as they stepped apart.

“Can I not come pay homage to my queen?” Bato said with feigned shock. Katara laughed and swatted at him.

“If your father insists on sending me all over the frozen blue yonder doing his dirty work, I deserve the perk of visiting the High Queen in her fancy new palace in Republic City.” He explained.

“Good to see you Bato.” Sokka said and the two men hugged with the same type of loving force.

“Young man, fatherhood looks good on you.” Bato said, holding the back of Sokka’s head and pressing their foreheads together.

Sokka smiled, his eyes squeezing shut and a pin prick of water poked out the corner.

“Is Zuko not here?” Hakoda asked from behind them.

“His court is in session to approve the new Earth Empire ambassador.” Sokka said, moving off to the side. He stood between Katara and Malina, but that still put her in Hakoda’s line of sight.

“Daddy is going to bring me a present when he comes back.” Izumi interjected and Hakoda chuckled as he bent down.

“Oh is he now? I guess I better give you my present first!” He huffed as he stood up, swinging Izumi into the air.

“How are you Katara?” Malina asked softly. Katara watched her father carry Izumi, with Kya hopping at his side.

“I’m fine.” She said tersely and started walking. “Dinner is nearly ready.”

“That was ice cold.” Sokka said, jogging up to walk with her. Katara snapped sharply, sending sparks of frost into the air.

“Don’t you forget it.” She retorted.

“It’s okay that she’s not mom.” Sokka said.

“No Sokka, it’s not.” Katara replied, her words clipped short.

Despite their political positions, they took their dinner in the private family room, away from the other tribal members. Even with the separation, politics still dominated the table conversation.

“Who is the Fire Nation sending out?” Bato asked. Katara settled in her chair with Lu Ten wriggling in her lap. He had begun refusing the high chair, but was still too small for a booster. So Katara had to feed him while her own food cooled just out of reach.

“Zuko has made his appointments but the ministers have to approve them as well. I like the lady he sent to Ba Sing Se though, so I don’t see that changing.” She replied.

“Ugh, remember the ambassador last year? What a piece of work.” Sokka grunted, reaching over to cut Kya’s food. She fussed, insisting that she could do it herself, while Izumi smiled demurely with her chopsticks in hand. The mixed menu was always a struggle, and Izumi was leaning more toward Fire Nation fare while Kya was used to the knives and spoons of the South Pole.

“Who is going from us to Ba Sing Se?” Malina asked, of no one in particular.

“I have always wanted to do some proper travelling.” Bato said. “More than just the horrible marching in the war.”

“That might be pushing it.” Katara said. “Dong-Lee’s sister is going to Ba Sing Se, and I’m sending Hahn to Omashu.”

“HAHN?” Sokka cut hard and the knife in his hand went skidding across the plate. With a huff, Kya pulled her plate back and started sawing the meat with her own knife.

“Two ambassadors?” Suki asked.

“Omashu is the largest seat of power in the south, and it makes sense to have people in both places. Kuei won’t let the Fire Nation send more than one though.” Katara said.

“But why Hahn?” Sokka demanded.

“He’s grown up a lot, Sokka.” Katara said, sounding tired. “And no one could accuse me of favoritism since you hate his guts.”

“Fine.” Sokka said forcefully. Suki leaned over and rubbed his upper back.

“Paw-Paw, look what Auntie taught me!” Kya said suddenly. Everyone looked just as Kya levitated the tea from her cup, pushing it high above her head.

“Careful!” Katara warned.

“Mo-om! Kya shouldn’t play with her food!” Izumi said.

“I’m not playing, it’s waterbending.” Kya stated.

“That’s very nice Kya.” Hakoda said carefully. “But let’s make sure not to drop it.”

“I won’t!” Kya fussed.

“Even if I do-” Sokka took a finger and moved it toward Kya. “This?”

Cold tea fell on Kya’s head, causing her to burst into tears and Izumi started pummeling Sokka’s arm.

“Izumi! We don’t hit!” Katara jostled Lu Ten, who was still eating peacefully, as she tried to get up.

“Don’t be mean to Kya!” Izumi yelled while Sokka chuckled. Suki bit her trembling lip as she used her napkin to mop up as much tea as she could.

“That’s enough!” Katara said, keeping one hand on Lu Ten - who was starting to fuss - and using the other to bend away the tea.

“Izumi, go to your room!” Katara said.

“Katara, it’s fine.” Sokka said.

“Don’t tell me how to parent!” She snapped.

Sokka leaned back, holding up his hand.

Izumi, sniffling, stomped out of the room.

“I didn’t mean to get her in trouble.” Kya murmured.

“You didn’t.” Katara sighed.

“Kat, how about I take Lu Ten so you can eat?” Hakoda, suddenly at her side, asked.

Katara whirled around, grabbing hold of Lu Ten with both hands.

“I certainly don’t need your help.” She said sharply.

Hakoda’s eyes went hard but he didn’t move.

“I raised two children, Katara, I know what I’m doing.” He said.

“When? When mom was still alive and Gran-Gran lived with us? Or after you went off to fight, taking mom with you and leaving us behind? Or was it after mom died and you decided to stay in the North Pole to court a new woman?” Katara shot back. “Because it certainly seems like Gran-Gran raised two more children after you abandoned yours.”

“And where’s your husband then? He’s not here to raise them himself.” Hakoda said darkly.

“Zuko is the Fire Lord! And, if you really want to get technical about it, dad, he’s a five hour flight from here to the middle of the spirits be-damned palace!” Katara shouted. “Now sit down before I decide to make Bato the new chief of the South Pole and kick you out of my home.”

Turning on her heel, Katara shifted Lu Ten onto her hip and walked out the dining room. Ice crunched under her feet, grinding into her soles like diamonds. Goosebumps rippled on Lu Ten’s arms and Katara let out a worried breath as she moved down the hall to the bedrooms.

“I’m sorry baby-boo.” She whispered, kissing Lu Ten’s chubby cheek. “Let’s go call daddy.”

Katara grabbed a phone and went into Izumi’s room, letting her talk to Zuko first. Izumi immediately related what had happened at dinner, telling him all about Katara’s unfairness and tyrannical rule. Then, letting Izumi go back to dinner, Katara stayed in her daughter’s bedroom, letting Lu Ten play on the floor beside her while she talked.

“So what else happened?” Zuko asked.

“I got into a fight with my dad.” Katara answered.

“I know all about that.” Zuko said and she snorted.

“I just don’t get him.” Katara said with a sigh.

“Well of course. You lived with him for the first six of years of your life, while only being conscious of it for two, three years tops. Then he went off to fight when he was younger than you are now. He came back to his children being adults, and one of them bonded to the ocean spirit.” Zuko replied. Katara patted Lu Ten’s diapered backside while she listened. They were nearly done potty training, but it was a busy time and accidents happen. Lu Ten grumbled at the attention, pushing himself up to rummage through Izumi’s things.

“So you’re saying I should just forgive him?” Katara asked.

“I am the last person to ask about forgiving fathers.” Zuko quipped. “But more I’m just trying to break through your stubborn insistence to be mad at him.”

“I want to be mad at him?”

“Yes.”

“Zuko!”

“Katara, you know this. We’ve talked about it in therapy. If you feel like you’re justified in being mad at someone, it means you can get away with being mean to them.” Zuko replied calmly.

“I do have a right to be mad!” Katara countered.

“I agree. But do you think Dr. Matsuzawa would think you’re handling this in a healthy and loving manner?” He questioned.

“Mmmmm.” Katara rolled her discontent in the back of her throat. Lu Ten repeated the noise, bouncing up and down as he did.

“Let’s talk about Izumi.” Zuko said, his tone shifting.

“What do you mean?” Katara asked.

“You don’t normally blow up at the kids.” He clarified.

“Yeah.” The pit of her stomach twisted, shooting sour bile into her throat.

Zuko kept quiet, giving her space to process her words.

“I’m just worried about her.” Katara said.

“Why?”

“Why?” She repeated, incredulous.

“Yeah, why are you worried about her? Has she said anything?” Zuko asked.

“Well, no. Not yet.” Katara admitted.

“Izumi and Kya adore each other. I don’t think she’s jealous.” Zuko said.

“I don’t know.” Katara said.

“Are you jealous?” Zuko questioned gently.

Katara sat up, her stomach wrenching horribly.

“What?” She asked.

Zuko didn’t reply right away, but sighed.

“I’ve been trying to find a way to talk to you about this, and now probably isn’t the best time to bring it up.”  He said.

“Well you brought it up!” Katara said sharply.

“Katara.”

“You think I’m jealous that Sokka had a Waterbender and I didn’t?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? You’re weird about Kya.”

“How am I weird about her?”

“You nearly never say her name!” Zuko stated. “Maybe you’re not jealous but maybe you want Izumi to be, so you can have an excuse.”

“How can you say that?” Katara gasped.

“Katara, this isn’t an accusation. I think you’re hurting, a lot. The spirit world thing got us away from it all, but now we’re back. And there’s a little girl named after your mom, needing to learn waterbending, when you don’t really have the best experiences in your own instruction.” Zuko explained carefully. “I went through something similar with my firebending.”

“Zuko…” Katara whispered. Her throat tightened as her nose went numb and started to run.

“I’m coming home.” Zuko said softly.

“No, Zuko, you have things to do.” Katara said.

“I’ve already approved the ambassador, the ministers can handle the next part.” Zuko said dismissively.

“You can’t keep running from the palace. It’s pissing a lot of people off.” Katara said, sniffing and rubbing her weeping eyes with the heel of her hand.

“So what? What are they gonna do, depose me? None of these governors want to go up against me, my father is rattling around in a prison, Azula is quite happy in rehab, and Iroh is convalescent. Unless they want to go on a search for Ursa on their own, they’ve got no one to replace me.” Zuko scoffed. “Plus, Thuy likes me.”

“Having the Avatar in your pocket sure is handy.” Katara murmured.

“Thuy?” Lu Ten chirped, tottling back with his arms full of Izumi’s dolls. He held out one hand, dropping most of the dolls, and reached for the phone.

“Thuy?” He repeated and Katara laughed.

“It’s daddy.” She said.

“Daddy!” Lu Ten said excitedly, dropping all the dolls, and starting to bounce again.

“May I talk to my beloved youngest child?” Zuko asked. Katara laughed again and handed the phone over. Lu Ten took it with both hands, pressing it to the side of his face. A couple of the buttons beeped.

“Daddy coming home?” Lu Ten asked. Pushing herself back to lean against Izumi’s bed, Katara watched as Lu Ten babbled into the phone.

She wasn’t looking forward to their time apart.

With the call done, Katara gave Lu Ten a bath and put him to bed. Assigning a guard to act as a baby monitor, she then went in search of Izumi.

The residential wing of the palace was small compared to the rooms she kept in the North Pole and in the Fire Nation, but it was still much bigger than what she had grown up with. Being back in Republic City, Katara almost wondered if she was expecting her old college dorm. She hadn’t even returned to the campus, though they were certainly bothering her about it, but her mind kept returning to the uniform, beige buildings, relics of the war.

This palace was made with snow white marble, iron colored lumber from the Fire Nation, and miles of Omashu crystal to remind her of ice. The rooms were a mix of styles, some with low furniture and some with the more modern style of ornate desks and heavy pieces meant to be dusted, not moved.

Going through the rooms on the main floor, Katara found them all empty.

Not wanting to try the other bedrooms, she descended into the basement. This was the space Sokka had designed, and sure enough, it was where everyone important was hiding.

Sokka had built a pillow fort in the theater, a trail of popcorn leading to the draped blankets. An animated movie Katara vaguely remembered played on the large screen and she could hear both Izumi and Kya giggling. Deciding to leave them to it, Katara retreated.

With Zuko’s flight still hours away, Katara puttered around. She made more tea, put on a hoodie, and meandered out to the main courtyard to look at the stars. The sky was different here than the North Pole, and neither was at all like the sky in the South Pole.

Pulling her legs up higher on the lounge chair, Katara reached underneath for a folded blanket. She often spent nights out here and the staff was good about leaving cushions and blankets about for her. Folding herself over the arm was difficult with her tea in her other hand and Katara strained to reach.

“Let me.” A man’s voice said and the mug left her grip.

“Thanks.” She muttered, leaning further over and finally grabbing the blanket. As her hand folded over the fabric, the voice registered, and Katara looked down while she spread the blanket over her legs.

“Here you go.” Bato said, handing back her mug. Katara took it, holding it in her lap with both hands wrapped around it.

“Did you come to scold me?” Katara asked.

“You’re a grown woman.” Bato said with a grunt, sitting down in the grass beside her. “I want to make sure you still know your stars.”

Tilting her head back, Katara gazed at the stars.

“I’d rather you scold me.” She groaned.

“Really?”

“No.”

“I’ve already yelled at Hakoda.”

Katara rolled her head to the side to look at Bato, but he was still looking up at the sky himself.

“At dad?” She asked.

“You weren’t totally wrong Katara. He wasn’t around, even if he hated being away from you and Sokka, it doesn’t change the truth. Trying to pretend that he was still a dad is his way of telling you that he didn’t want to leave in the first place.” Bato explained. “But it doesn’t fix anything.”

“But I shouldn’t have said what I said.” Katara admitted.

“Sure, but where do you think you got your temper? It wasn’t your mother.” Bato scoffed.

“I never asked you about her.” Katara said softly, rolling onto her side to look at him better.

“Sokka did, but I wasn’t sure you would.” He replied.

“Will you tell me?” Katara asked.

“Of course.”

~

Banging rattled the thin door frame and Bato jolted upright, still tangled in his blankets and furs. As the banging continued, he clawed his way to freedom and shoved his arms back into the longjohns he was wearing. Moving from his bedroom in the back, he paused for a moment to put his feet into his unlaced boots before heading to the front door.

He yanked the shuttering door open, swearing in the bright summer sun.

“May you and your namesakes drown for a thousand cycles.” Bato growled.

“Oh come on Bato, too much sleep is bad for your health!” Hakoda said briskly.

“Did Kanna kick you out again?” Bato asked. He moved sleepily back to his bedroom, letting Hakoda close the door and follow. Kicking off his shoes, Bato began picking through the pile next to his bed while Hakoda leaned in the open door frame.

“She was up late for a birth.” Hakoda said, avoiding the truth.  Bato found his pants, pulled them on, and then searched for his parka. When he found it, he shook it out sharply.

“Is Kya up yet?” Bato inquired, pulling the parka over his head.

“That’s why I’m getting you. You know her father hates me.” Hakoda said.

Bato straightened his parka and avoided his friend’s gaze.

He couldn’t put into words what his life was like at the time. His parents had died last winter when there was another outbreak of tuberculosis. There were relatives he could have stayed with, or even gone to live with Hakoda and Kanna. Instead he chose to stay in his family’s house. They weren’t adults yet, but life on the ice and a blockade cutting them off from the rest of the world, it wasn’t like there was enough room for a childhood.

Hakoda was trying, and so was Kya. They had grown up together; all of the children in the village had grown up together, but it was different for the three of them. Bato had known they all loved each other, but two summers ago, he found out that Hakoda loved Kya differently, and it made him feel strange.

But it was difficult not to love Kya, in one form or another.

Bato punished Hakoda by forcing him to wait as he got ready. Bato dressed properly, shaved, and put together a meager breakfast. Ever the spoiled one, Hakoda bemoaned the bland food, which got Bato in for whatever Kanna had bubbling away on her stove that day.

Being back at Kanna’s wasted another hour and finally, finally, they were out on their own.

Bato was sent to get Kya and he grinned weakly under her father’s glare. Whatever he had against Hakoda, Bato was sure it was both misunderstood and completely deserved.

“Ah Bato, I wish we were children again.” Kya said, hanging off of his shoulder. “I miss penguin sledding.”

“You know, I think there’s an old canoe out back of my house. My dad and I were supposed to mend it this summer.” Bato said.

“We can’t go fishing in a broken canoe.” Hakoda stated.

“But we might be able to go sledding.” Bato countered.

The sledding worked, but somehow Hakoda decided that what they really ought to do was hitch a polar bear dog to the sled and really get going. Figuring they wouldn’t even get close to a den, Bato agreed.

This resulted in them running full-tilt through the snow away from a pack of polar bear pups with their milk teeth still in.

Wanting to hide their injuries, Hakoda then decided it would be a good idea to sift through Kanna’s unguents while she was sleeping.

That turned into Hakoda and Bato being temporarily blinded and Kya laughing so hard she fell into a slush pit at the coast line.

From there, they all piled into Bato’s bathroom, sectioning off the shower stall for Kya while he and Hakoda squeezed into the tub.

The room was covered in clean, but cracked, white tile squares. Steam filled the space, making their vision foggy even after clearing away the odd unguents.

This was the pair he had done his ice dodging with. All of their parents had been alive and watched proudly as they completed the ritual. Hakoda was the brave, Kya was the wise, and he was the trusted. It felt like their fate had been sealed then, and Bato relaxed into the grip of it. When Hakoda’s father died in a fishing accident, he went right back into the sea to make sure he was taking care of his mother. Kya always knew how to draw Bato out when he was pulling away. It was how they would always be.

“What do you think will happen in the future?” Bato asked, watching the steam curl within itself.

“How far are we talking?” Hakoda asked in reply.

“Ten years.” Bato answered.

“Hopefully this war will be over.” Kya remarked. The sound of the water hitting her skin sounded different than the tile. It was a sound Bato hadn’t heard in his house for many months.

“I hope to have children.” Hakoda said.

“Oh?” Kya intoned, turning off the faucets. She stayed behind her curtain, and Bato heard the splash of water as she wrung out her hair.

Hakoda looked away and Bato chuckled.

“What if the war is still going on?” Bato asked.

“Well, we’ll have to fight in it I suppose.” Kya said dreamily.

“How do you figure?” Hakoda asked sharply, sitting up so quickly the water sloshed over the side.

“If you want to have children, you’re okay raising them in a world like this? Where we can’t even trade up north anymore for fresh food?” Kya asked. “No one’s buying our fish, the Waterbenders have already gone off to fight and none of them have come back, and we don’t even have a local hospital.”

“But there’s so much to lose if we enlist. There’s no guarantee it’ll turn out in our favor.” Hakoda said.

“And here I thought you earned the mark of the brave.” Kya chided.

“So are you not having children until the war is done?” Bato asked.

“I think if I married the right man, I’d have to win a war for my children.” She answered.

Hakoda, sinking back into the tub, sighed happily with a smile.

~

Katara looked at the cold remains of her tea as Bato’s words swirled in her head. She didn’t see any of her mother in Malina, and she couldn’t work out if that made her happy or not. Perhaps Malina was the type of woman Kya would have picked out for Hakoda herself, someone to comfort him, not challenge him.

“Losing Kya is different for your father and me. We all got separated, so I keep thinking Kya’s just waiting in an Earth Kingdom city somewhere, waiting for us to find her.” Bato added.

“I know where she is.” Katara murmured.

“I know. And it kills me that you do.” Bato said. “Your mother didn’t deserve any of this. She deserved to see her children grow up and to meet her grandchildren. She shouldn’t have a namesake yet.”

“So what about dad?” Katara asked.

“Hakoda deserves peace. If you hadn’t gone through what you did, I would say he deserves to reunite with his children and live comfortably to grow old and fat. But you also deserve a father not blunted by years of imprisonment.” Bato shook his head, now looking at the ground. “You both deserve better but there is no substitution.”

Briefly, Katara thought about Noriko, but banished the seed before it could plant itself in her mind.

“What do I do then?” She questioned.

“My advice? Start over. Your father is a good man, and he loves you very much. We went away because we really thought we were going to protect you, to save you. He never wants to be far from you.” Bato said.

“Then why does he only ever stay with Malina? He was barely in the South Pole until I ordered him to go back.” Katara said sharply, her anger returning faster than she expected.

“You were supposed to be in the North Pole more than you were, remember? But someone decided they were better off traveling with the Avatar, or hiding out in the Fire Nation. Places your father couldn’t easily get to.” Bato said. “And how often did you want to see Malina when you were home?”

“Mmmm.” Katara grumbled, assenting to his point.

“Zuko is coming, correct?” Bato asked.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be glad to see him again. I haven’t had the chance to really talk to him.” Bato stood and stretched his back. Katara could hear the succession of pops from his joints.

“I think you’ll like him.” Katara said.

“Really? The son of the man who slaughtered my people? Who kept medicine from our village and killed my parents? You think I’ll like the Fire Lord, hmm?” Bato asked casually. Katara sat up, alarmed, and tried to see Bato’s face in the dark.

“Most of all, Katara, I think you need to understand just how much Hakoda is willing to deal with because of how much he loves you.” Bato said. “I hear that your husband is a good man, and I trust that you wouldn’t marry an evil person. But we have suffered differently, you and I. And I don’t have love to help me forgive as easily.”

Without another word, Bato turned and walked back to the palace, leaving Katara alone in the dark. Revenge was not sought in their tribe. Harming another person meant weakening the community. But there was still the matter of justice. Bato would not hold Zuko accountable for the sins of his father, but politics changed things. Katara understood that, and she understood Bato knew the difference as well. His hostility toward the Fire Lord was not the neutral friendliness he used to talk about her husband.

Hakoda had only ever fought with her about politics when he learned of her relationship with Zuko.

Heading back inside herself, Katara went straight to her private rooms. She showered and took extra care with her routine, wasting more of her time before Zuko arrived. Brushing out her hair, Katara’s shoulders sank seeing the wide swaths of black in her normal brown. The past two years had been exhausting beyond a physical way and had tapped into her spiritual reserves. So much had changed, but there was still that feeling of loss over what had been left behind or broken.

Very similar to how she felt at the end of the war.

While smoothing lotion into her arms and legs, Katara took a moment to examine the scars. She remembered Zuko’s fingers tracing them years ago, his pale skin somehow paler than the raised lines on her body.

Standing in the mirror, Katara saw the other scars that sank into her body. The stretch marks that rippled over her stomach and down her thighs. Ebony threads were like embroidery over her dark skin making no pattern but beautiful still.

Pulling on a robe, Katara tied the belt and walked silently to the bed. Purple sheets, made of silk to protect her hair and cool to the touch. There were places in the midlands of the Earth Empire that considered purple dye to belong to the royals. Apparently King Bumi was fond of it, mixing it with the typical green attire of Earth Kingdom citizens.

Katara just loved the blend of red and blue.

Sliding into bed, she shivered as her damp and lotioned legs brushed against the sheets. Tucking herself in, Katara shuddered deeply once and then relaxed. She thought for a moment that she was jealous, but not about Sokka or Kya specifically. Katara had hated everything she and Zuko had to go through in order to even have this place. She hated the schedule and the weeks away from her children and husband, or missing just Zuko.

If the world hadn’t been placed in peril yet again, they may never have won this small victory in the first place.

So in a way, Katara was bitter that she hadn’t earned any sort of simple ending. Her father, Sokka, even Thuy were uncomplicated by their relationships. Either no one was high enough or, as it was for Thuy, the Avatar was someone who could simply do whatever they wished.

A life where she graduated from medical school, became a doctor, and lived with her little family back in the South Pole would never happen. Instead, she had to worry about her daughter’s inheritance, take on her niece as her heir, and run three different nations while also sitting as the lady of another ruler.

And Thuy. Of course, she always had a duty to her Avatar.

Picking up her phone, Katara scrolled through the messages to see if there was any update from Zuko. The flight app showed his plane still in the air, but near enough to Republic City. With almost a decade of ruling as a monarch, her social media was limited, but it was still nice to see what her friends were up to.

Jinora’s daughter Bumi was in elementary school and had bonded with her Sky Bison. Ikki had adopted another flying lemur, bringing her total up to four. Meelo, while not specifically posting about it, was still living near the rehab center where Azula was staying. He was actually incredibly helpful, despite the strange stories Rohan had told her. Meelo seemed to care a lot about Azula and brought his trained, monastic calmness with him when he visited her.

Rohan was on radio silence, again, as they were doing something mysterious out at the Eastern Air Temple.

Thuy’s new account for “the family” was called The Dream Tweem, tweaking the pronunciation of Thuy’s name for the pun. It made Katara snort every time she saw it.

The Dream Tweem was heading to a remote village tucked somewhere in the Xishaan mountains. Jae-hwan, despite his numerous trips with Thuy, was still not a fan of the cold and there were plenty of pictures of him dealing with snow.

Just as Katara was flicking through the album, she got a video call.

“Good evening Auntie!” Thuy said cheerfully.

“Is that Lady Katara?” Suzu’s voice came from behind Thuy and Katara watched her push her shoulder back.

“The kids are in bed!” Thuy said sharply.

“You’re lying!” Suzu retorted and shoved Thuy’s face aside. Katara laughed as she watched the excitement drain from Sula’s face.

“Hello Fire Lady.” Suzu said sadly.

“I’m sorry Suzu, had I known Thuy was going to call, I’d have collected the children.”

“It’s fine.” Suzu replied, dragging the last word out on a sigh while she slunk of view.

“Have you met the ambassador yet?” Thuy asked, her face returning to the screen.

“He comes in tomorrow.” Katara said, shaking her head.

“Oh, Zuko got his then right?”

“Blazes, how can you just call him that?” Zula asked.

“Because my parents weren’t crazy Fire Nation royalists?” Thuy asked, annoyed and confused.

“Are you talking to Auntie?” Jae-hwan came from over Thuy, pushing down on her head.

“Auntie, it’s cold!” He whined.

“I’m not you’re Auntie.” Katara said. “And your mother would lose her mind if she heard you whine like that.”

“Don’t tell mom.” Jae-hwan said quickly.

“I have Toph on speed dial.” Katara warned.

Thuy shoved Jae-hwan off her and sat up, looking at him offscreen.

“You know, sifu says you can’t be cold if you’re practicing.” She said and then laughed as Jae-hwan made an unseen gesture.

“Am I going to hear from Aktuk or Tashi?” Katara asked.

“They’ve gone on ahead to scout since they can handle the cold better.” Thuy said.

“Excuse me?” Zula interjected and Thuy rolled her eyes.

“My apologies madam inner fire.” She said sarcastically.

“Did you call for a reason Thuy?” Katara asked.

“Oh, right. I was wondering if you’ve done any more research on the energybending thing. Tashi and I were talking about it, after that spirit debacle, but we don’t know if we should try again.” Thuy said.

Katara was silent for a moment and Thuy was also still, looking perfectly innocent.

“Where in the mountains are you going Thuy?” She asked.

“A village.”

“What village?”

“A…. mountainous one?”

“Thuy, are you looking for the guardians?”

“Okay so, remember, you can’t really tell me what to do anymore now that I’m a fully awakened Avatar!”

“Thuy! We were all going to go once Iroh recovered!”

“I am so close Auntie! Tashi and I feel really good about this one.” Thuy began but stopped as Katara sat up.

“We don’t know anything about the lion turtles. It could be dangerous!” Katara said.

“Mister Whiskers isn’t even freaking out a little.” Thuy said, trying to calm her down.

“That’s probably because she’s brumating, let’s be real.” Jae-hwan muttered.

“Oh, big word from the street urchin.” Suzu said with what passed for friendly mocking between them.

“I am a Beifong you horrendous little bit-” Jae-hwan’s voice was cut off as Thuy stepped away.

“Are any of you taking this seriously?” Katara asked.

“Auntie, we just came off a world saving mission. We know the stakes. I don’t think anyone else expects to find anything, so they’re doing, whatever. But Tashi and I can feel something out here.” Thuy said.

“Well, don’t poke around there for too long. We’ll go to Ember Island this summer. You and I already know something is out there and we can go as a family.” Katara urged gently.

Thuy smiled and nodded.

“You know, my parents are getting kind of jealous.” She said.

Katara’s breath slowed from the coincidence.

“Oh?” She asked.

“It’s not a big deal, considering how we view family in the Swamp. But it is weird for them to have me be so distant.” Thuy said.

“Comes with being the Avatar I suppose.” Katara agreed.

“We all have things to deal with. Good thing they had other kids.” Thuy said jokingly.

Remembering what Bato said about substitutions, Katara stayed quiet.

“We won’t stay long. I promise.” Thuy said, taking her silence as a reproach.

“Be safe.” Katara said.

“We will Auntie. I love you.” Thuy said.

“I love you. Give the others my love as well.” Katara said.

“Of course Auntie. Good night!” Thuy said.

Before she ended the call, Katara could hear the chorus of other voices wishing her goodnight.

Laying back, Katara held her phone to her chest.

Thuy called her Auntie, but she had become more like a little sister. Thuy had picked her from the very beginning and nothing over the years could change her mind. From every bad mood to times of no communication, Thuy never wavered in her loyalty to Katara.

Her family was such a complex thing.

Katara found a video channel about an unseen man who made knives from all sorts of materials. Hours in, and in the middle of a video about making a knife from smoke, her bedroom door opened slowly.

“Katara?” Zuko called out softly.

Half-asleep, Katara roused and sat up. Her body was warmer now and her robe slipped off one shoulder from her movement. Zuko paused as he stepped in, light burning in his palm.

“Well.” He said with enough interest that Katara felt her pulse quicken. She laughed and straightened out her robe.

“Oh don’t go through the trouble on my account.” Zuko said, walking to the bed.

“Did you just get in?” Katara asked.

Zuko extinguished his flame as he put a knee on the bed, propelling himself into her arms.

“Yes. I went to check on the children first.” He said, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into the dip of her shoulder.

“Are they asleep?” She asked. She felt him begin to untie the belt and she chuckled.

“They were when I left.” Zuko said, sitting back now to properly attend the knot.

“I thought we were going to have a big talk.” Katara said as Zuko loosened the knot and undid the belt. He slid his hands through the small gap of the robe and around to her waist.

“You distracted me.” He said.

“By sitting here?” Katara asked and giggled as Zuko pulled her closer.

“Exactly. You know how beautiful you are, how dare you be visible when we have serious things to discuss?”

“You’re impossible.” There was laughter in her voice and Katara knew Zuko was smiling in the dark.

“I’m not sitting here flaunting such allure as if it weren’t enough to declare war.”

“War, sir?”

“War, my lady, and while I shall put up an earnest fight,” Zuko moved her, laying her back down as he straddled her and began unbuttoning his shirt. “I do believe you will best me yet again.”

“Oh but darling,” Katara said demurely, her fingers plucking at his belt buckle. “You may certainly try.”

And while she wished for light to see him, there had been enough years between them that she knew his body by heart.

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[boyy-wonder-grayson]

It's too late

Requested: no

Summary: reader and Dick can't seemed to agree on what's best for each other

Warnings: violence, kind of rape mention barely, angst

Word count: 1793

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Reader

She woke up alone,once again. She extended her hand to touch his side of the bed, it was cool; that meant that Dick had been long gone. She sighed and rolled over to reach her phone. Not a text, not a call, nothing. It happened a lot lately. Dick woke up early in the morning and left her in bed alone; sometimes he didn't even go to bed with her at all. She brushed it off, telling herself that he was working too hard, that he was busy with work and patrol, nothing else. But she was lying to herself. She could notice that being a cop and on top of that Nightwing, was taking a toll on him. He had always been too hard on himself, and now was no different. But she was tired of this, of him pushing her away, of all the unsaid things,the repressed sadness and anger.  

She sent him a text asking if he was going to work late today or if she should wait for him to have dinner together, but Dick never answered. She got ready for work, the usual routine. When Dick was around, they used to have breakfast together. He would make the coffee and y/n would prepare some pancakes, just the way he liked them. But now the mornings were as cold as the nights when he was away. She got dressed, and left for work, alone. Just like every other day.

The day passed slowly. She kept staring at her phone throughout the whole afternoon but Dick never answered. She even called him at lunch time,but it went straight to voicemail. She didn't want to think the worst of this situation,but it was nearly impossible not to; her mind took her to dark places, 'what if Dick was cheating on me?' 'maybe that's why he leaves early and barely goes home anymore' 'what if…' , her brain was filled with every possible bad scenario, and she ended up in the same one 'Dick was cheating on me, that must be it'. She didn't want to confront him, scared of what the answer might be, but she knew that that conversation was long overdue. 

When Y/n got home she wasn't surprised to see that no one was there. She put her bag and coat on the couch and went to get something to drink. She sighed, she was stupid for thinking that Dick might be home by now, waiting for her with some wine and take- out like he used to do, but the sadness overtook her when she saw that she was,once again, home alone.

She decided to take a shower, to shake off the stress this whole situation was causing her, but when she went to grab some clothes she noticed that Dick's side of the closet was empty. Not a single item was there. His shirts, shoes, everything was gone.

This was not happening. No, she's just seeing things. Her stress and sleep deprived mind was playing tricks on her. But when she looked inside the closet, on the fake door that Dick had installed to keep his suit safe from the public eye,she noticed that it was empty. He was gone. Really gone.

She grabbed her phone with trembling hands and pressed Dick's contact name, waiting for him to pick up, to explain, but he never answered. Not any of the 10 calls she made. Not any of the 15 texts she send. 

She cried herself to sleep that night. And the next one.  And the next one after that too, and she kept doing it until she couldn't cry anymore. Dick had left her without an explanation or reason. That's what hurt the most. She could have understood if he had explained it to her, but he never gave her the chance, and now it was too late.

Six months later.

Y/n was walking alongside her friend. The pair had been drinking that night, celebrating that Y/n's friend was getting married. San Francisco was beautiful at night, and since it was almost Christmas the city was decorated with sparkling lights. The cold winter air made their breaths come out in puffs of air. They were trying to get a cab, but since the outside of the bar was full with people that apparently had the same idea as the girls, it was almost impossible. Fifteen minutes later Y/n's friend was able to hail a cab, and said goodbye to her best friend for the night. Y/n declined the offer to ride along with her  excusing herself saying that she wasn't far from home, and she'd rather walk.

Bad idea.

She decided to take a shortcut through and alley when she felt a strong hand gripped her bicep and pulled her again his chest.

"Now be a doll, and don't make a sound. This won't take long" the man said forcing her against the wall. She wanted to scream but she knew that it was useless. Instead she started to cry when she heard the man unzip his pants. She was scared, she never felt this helpless before. She pray for something to happen, someone to rescue her,and luckily her prayers were heard.

Before the man could do anything his body was ripped away from hers, and the man was sent flying towards the hard concrete. The vigilante that came to her rescue was punching the lights out of the guy. Y/n was still shocked so she didn't register when Nightwing kneel down in front of her; she flinched when his hand made contact with her cheek and that's when she broke drown and feel straight into his arms.

"Oh my God Dick" she sobbed into his chest "thank you, thank you" she kept repeating this while Dick tried to console her in the best way he could.

"We should probably get out of here", he said picking her up. He kept his hands around her every second on the way to the Titans tower, and her hold was just as strong. She didn't let go of Dick's hand, not for a second.

Once in the tower Dick took her to the med bay trying to check for bruises and scratches, but she was in perfect physical state. Mentally he couldn't say the same.

"You're staying here tonight okay? No buts" he command. He didn't dare look her in the eyes thought. He was ashamed of his past actions,but now was not the time to worry about that.

Dick took her to his room, and gave her some of his clothes for her to change he was about to leave the room when she spoke:

"Why did you leave?" She asked in a whisper. She didn't look up, instead she looked at the clothes Dick had gave her.

He was taken aback, he didn't expect to talk about this tonight, he thought that maybe they could talk about it in the morning, over breakfast maybe. And he could explain everything to her, but apparently she had other ideas.

"Can we talk about it tomorrow? You need to rest" he tried  but she was having none of it.

"No!" She screamed as tears streamed down her face "I want to know, I deserve to know!".

Dick's heart broke seeing her in distraught like that. He hated himself for leaving her but he thought that it was for the best.

"Y/n…" he whispered

"Please, Dick just... please" she sounded defeated. "I'm tired of thinking of a reason as to why you left. Where you cheating on me?" she finally asked

Dick's eyes widen in surprise, "No! I would never do that" He replied exasperated.

"Then what is it! I can't read your mind Dick" she yelled at him. She didn't care if any of the Titans heard, she deserved the truth.

"I-im sorry, okay? I didn't want to leave you. You have to believe me please" Dick said. He felt his eyes watered.

"This job, this kind of life that's not for you. You deserve better, you deserve a normal life. Not a life when you're worrying about me not getting home safe" he explained.

"Don't you think I deserve to make that choice?"she asked angry at him now

"You think you can decide what's best for me? I'm sorry but that's not on you". She added taking a step closer to him.

"And of  course I worry about you! You were my boyfriend Dick, what kind of person would I be if I didn't care for my partner at all?".

"It's not the same, and you know it" she replied annoyed. "I had to leave, you can't be in danger because of who I am!" 

She stood there in silence looking at him, and noticed how hard he was trying not to cry. And he failed when the first tear fell from his eye. 

"I didn't want you to leave, but I guess you had other ideas" she said "I guess you didn't know me as much as I thought you did".

"Please this can wait,  we can talk about this tomorrow" He said in a small voice.

Y/n shook her head and walked towards the door, brushing his shoulder with hers.

"I'm sorry but I'm not going to wait for you anymore.  I did for for six long months,and now I'm tired of waiting" she said crying once again. 

"Wait Y/n, please don't leave" Dick cried trying to grab her hand, but she pushed him away.

"No Dick, I'm sorry. I love you but I cannot keep waiting for you to decide if being with me is worth the risk or not." She answered grabbing the doorknob. "Goodbye Dick Grayson".

Dick was left there standing alone in the middle of his room. He understood now what Y/n might have felt when he left her, without saying anything to her. At least she had the decency to talk to him. He was a coward for not doing the same for her when he had the chance. He thought about  calling her and explained why he did what he did, but he never got the chance,or more like the guts; and when he found her tonight in that alley and saved her from that asshole, he realised that danger was always going to be present in their life and that maybe it wasn't too late to try and work things out in between them again. So he decided, that he was going to tell her everything and explained his reasoning for leaving her, but after what she said,his doubts were clear as water. It was now, too late.

[iwantutobehapppier]

Just Ask

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x Reader

Story continues here: You Belong, Mine, A Habit and Convalescence 

Summary: You’re a mutant/enhanced human in a relationship with Steve Rogers that only the Avengers are aware of. This takes place at the end of Civil War and moves into the time in between Civil War and Infinity War. 

Warnings: Violence, dubious-consent, Dark!Steve, choking, forced orgasm, forced pregnancy, unprotected sex. 18 an older only, do not read if under the age of 18. This isn’t for everyone, if any of these situations bother you please read no further.

Word Count: 5,537

A/N: This is my first time in this world of Dark!Steve also first time I have posted any of my writing to Tumblr. I have a few sequels in mind and already in works for this. Thanks for reading!

“Steve’s not gonna stop,” was the voicemail Nat left, following the fight at the airport. You knew what that meant. You were never going to sign the accords or fight in this no matter how much both sides asked but you weren’t going to stand idly by while they killed each other either.

You had followed Stark to the location, hanging back but even farther back when you saw some guy dressed like a giant cat.

When you finally intervened Bucky was on the ground visibly unconscious and his Vibranium arm across the room.  Your eyes quickly diverted to Steve and Stark battling it out. Stark was on the ground with the Iron Man helmet smashed off his head you knew it was time to step in.

Just as Steve moved to slam the shield against the Arc Reactor you brought your hands on the sides of the shield standing above Stark’s head. It took all your superhuman strength to keep him there, a mere inch from the chest piece but your strength would not hold up to Steve’s.

“You can’t fight him Steve, please” you voice barely above a whisper. Steve’s eyes widened and you could feel his pressure against the shield falter a fraction. It was enough for you to shove the shield down on the ground.

“Even the golden boy’s girl knows what side to be on. Nice to see you finally picking a side and step out of the side lines,” you grimaced. You wanted to explain that was not what was going on at all but this was not the time.

“You don’t understand, he’s going to kill Bucky.” Steve looking at you desperately as you both remained above Stark.

“No it’s you who doesn’t understand Cap, he killed my mom. He won’t walk out of here.” Stark responded quickly. There was so much pain and malice.

You shut your eyes tightly, just then you heard Bucky groan out in pain.

The sound plasma hand cannon readying was the only warning you heard and before you could intervene Steve had the shield back in his hands deep in Stark’s chest piece. The hum of the suit dying was chilling enough to bring tears to the corner of your eyes.

Steve breathed heavily and looked up at you as you loomed over them both. His eyes pleading you to understand or forgive him, you weren’t sure which. You did understand, it was Bucky how many nights did he stay up telling you stories about the two of them.

It didn’t matter how many times they brainwashed him, he was still Bucky. You couldn’t abandon Stark just like you couldn’t betray your love to Steve.

“Don’t make me choose,” you took in a ragged breath trying hard not to break down. He closed his eyes for a moment then stood up, pulling the shield out of the Iron Man suit as he did.

He moved over to Bucky, helping lift him up to his feet and began to walk away.

“That shield doesn’t belong to you.” Stark called out as he tried to get up right.

“Tony,” you scolded him. That was Steve’s more than it was anyone’s but he ignored you and continued.

“You don’t deserve it, my father made that shield.” Steve looked at you and then down at the shield. Without a response Steve dropped the shield and continued to walk off with Bucky leaning on him.

It hurt seeing the bruises forming on the sides of his face. You were forever grateful to Stark but could you really just let Steve leave without talking? Turning to Stark you helped him get to his feet within the dying suit.

“Who do I need to call?” you asked, making it clear you weren’t going to help him get back home.

“If you go with them you’ll be a wanted woman.” He warned.

“I already am, remember I didn’t sign.” He grunted. “Oh yeah, you and your ‘I won’t sign and I won’t fight’ bullshit. See what happens? Capsicle can’t think right without you.”

“Tony, who do I call, Rhodes?” He looked away and tried to stand on his own but the weight of the suit was off balance from all the damage and he faltered. You quickly helped him stay upright and then guided to a wall he could lean against.

“Does anyone know you are here?” He bitterly chuckled and that was enough to tell you clearly no. What a mess this had turned into.

Shaking your head in disbelief and pain at how it had all turned out you pulled your phone out and speed dialed.

“Nat? Yeah… No things did not go well at all… they’re all 3 alive,” You looked at Tony and frowned at his bleeding face. “…not without damage though.”

“Follow the gps on the phone, come get Tony and keep it discrete.” Nat disconnected after your instructions and you handed to phone off to Tony. He looked down at your hand then back up, dazed.

“I’m not staying here, and I’m not keeping that on me. You know you mean so much to me and saving me from…you know.” A deep sigh escaped your lips and he glared at you. You sat the phone down on the ground.

“You are going to go after him?“ He called out your name when you turned your back to him, "After what you just saw him do to me, to us, and protect that Hydra Murderer! He killed my parents! My Mom!” Stark’s voice rose with each word as you ran off.

By the time you caught up they were already at the Quinjet and the cat guy was talking to them both outside the jet.

Bucky was the first to notice you, the other two looking your way to see what he was looking at. Steve sucked in his breath through his teeth with wide eyes. He did not expect to see you again, honestly that stung.

The man in the Cat suit had I his mask off, it was T’Challa. You cocked your head to the side, this situation was all sorts of fucked up. Maybe one day you’d get all the details but now you had to talk to Steve.

Bucky lifted his arm out from around Steve’s shoulder and T’Challa helped him get inside the jet as Steve walked towards you pulling off his helmet. You speed walked towards him, slamming your body into him not caring about the painful grunt he made, he was a super solider he could take it.

His arms wrapped tightly around you, almost bone crushing as you wrapped his arm around his neck and pulled him down to kiss you. It was rough and full of the need you two always felt for each other. It was a few minutes before you both pulled away from such a tight embrace.

“I won’t ask you to come with me,” he spoke softly against your lips. You almost wish he would but you knew he would never ask more of you than you could give. He kissed you again but it was softer this time. You pulled away.

“Is that how you kissed that Sharon girl?” his cheeks flushed and muttered “Sam,” under his breath. You smirked.

“I intended to tell you before Sam… It was to get the suits, she was doing a favor and there was a sense of duty to-”

“To kiss a girl who you had been leading on? Oh okay.” you teased him as he fumbled to explain. You weren’t the jealous one out of the two of you.

“Stop playing with me. I have to get Buck somewhere safe.” He stressed and you nodded in agreement.

“You have Bucky, get him the help he needs.” You kissed him again but he frowned.

“I want you too.” he pulled you away from his embrace, his hands resting on your shoulders looking you in the eyes. His swirling blue eyes held so much pain, desire, guilt, anger…there was too much as always.

“Then ask Rogers. You just gotta ask.” The hum and heat of the Quinjet starting up pulled you out of each other’s gaze. “Times up,” you smiled at him as you removed his arms from your shoulders.

“I’ll find you,” the confidence and unsaid meaning in those words sent a chill down your spine.

“I’m counting on it old man.” You watched him walk into the Quinjet, turning around to look at you his mouth opening as if he would ask. You knew better, he was always too late. You started walking away to make your own escape from the chaos that had ensued.

8 months later

You stood in front of what had to be at least 1980’s A/C window unit. You hated the heat. You let out a groan as noise rose from outside the bustling city street of Agadir, Morocco.

The motel wasn’t the worst you had been in so far while on the run. Mercenary work was giving you extra cash to move up from D Grade motels to C Grade. It was certainly easier than your earlier years.

Shaking you heard trying to cool down you knew you just needed to get out of the room, maybe the beach?

Your eyes narrowed while looking at the people on the street then nodded your head agreeing with that idea.

You looked around pretty sure you found the least crowded part of the beach. Walking towards the shore a gentle breeze blew your hair and long thin robe you wore over your bikini. You used to care about showing this much skin, the scars and all imperfections would have made you self-conscious but that was before Steve. Before he instilled in you the confidence and encouraged your self-discovery.

Setting your bag down as you neared the shore you sighed; you missed Steve, desperately at night. Giving him space with Bucky was more important to you than having Steve between your legs every night.  

You were pretty sure he was in Wakanda but getting there was proving a task given it was only you. Stark spoiled you with all his means and connections over the years. You looked out, the light blue of the ocean reminded you of his eyes, those eyes that would burn with desire and need for only you.  

Cool ocean water brushes back and forth on your feet took you out of your thoughts. That’s what you needed, this was better than that ancient A/C. You began to walk further in pulling the bottom of the robe up however yelling started behind you.

There was panic and pointing to a young gentleman running with a floral bag in his hand, as he came across your bag he grabbed it. “SHIT!” you were too trusting or as Steve would say “Head in the clouds”. Without thinking you launched after the guy not caring about your lack of shoes or clothing.

The man looked behind him and his eyes widened, you were gaining on him and fast. He ran into the street dodging cars, you followed ignoring the gravel and fiber glass your bare feet picked up along the way. When he saw you were still following he quickly turned down a side road leaving the main road facing the beach.

You kept at him and your feet kept picking up more but you pushed through, you needed your bag! You smiled when he ran down a small alley way, fool.

When you turned down you saw him get closed lined by a large arm falling to the ground and slamming his head against the pavement. You looked at the man who had helped you, he had a ball cap on with sun glasses and a short full face beard.

“Thank you,” you said slightly winded as you walked up to get your bag, starting to really feel the pain in your feet now that you’ve stopped running.

“Your feet,” the man muttered pointing behind you to the bloodied foot prints you left. The voice it was so familiar…

As you got closer you starred at his face intently and it clicked.

“Rogers?”

No sooner the words left your mouth he had you up against the alley wall holding your cheeks and kissing you with fierce abandonment. You pulled his hat and sunglasses off let them fall to the ground.

It caught you off guard, the force and wildness as your lips crashed and his tongue demand entrance to your mouth which you gladly allowed. As he was mapping your mouth his arms began to trail down gripping your ass roughly. On instinct you wrapped your legs around his waist, he gladly held you up.

You pulled away to catch your breath and the moment you took another breath he was on you once more, biting your lip pulling a soft gasp from your mouth. He groaned grinding his pelvis into you, both you feeling the dampness in your bikini bottoms.

You could feel him against you, hard and hot. Just as you started to feel dizzy from his demanding kisses he kissed his way down your neck, biting then gently caressing the bite mark with his tongue only to then suck on the same spot. His beard rubbing against your skin in just the right way, you couldn’t help but whimper and dig your nails into his deltoids.

He called out your name, voice deep and gravelly against your neck.

“Please,” you gasped out, not sure what you were pleading for, more or less? His touch was so rough, so much more forceful than any time before. His hands were continuously kneading your ass and helping roll your hips into him with great force.

You felt his breath against your neck, it started shallow but you could feel it begin to slow, his hands just holding you.

Finally he pulled his head out from your neck and looked you in the eyes. There was an unsettling darkness in his look, something unfamiliar to you.

He opened his mouth to say something but a groan from the man he knocked out stopped him. You both looked toward him, his eyes remaining closed but head moving a little. Steve let you down to your feet. Once on them you gasped at the forgotten pain from glass and gravel in your feet.

Steve glared at you, “How could you chase after someone without shoes on and in only a bikini?” sounding like a parent scolded a child.

“My shoes and clothes were in the bag. Might I add I have a robe on!” you matching him with tone of a petulant child.

He rolled his eyes “See through robe,” he picked up the side of you robe to make his point, “What do you think was going through those men’s minds as they saw you chase after this thief?”

“Look at that girl run?” You tried to joke but it was met with a seething glare.

“They were looking at what’s MINE and ogling it.” You could feel the bass in his voice, it scared and excited you. What was going on with Steve?

Before you could vocalize your thoughts he put his sunglasses and ball cap back on, then grabbed both bags the thief had and held them out to you. You took both and squeaked when he lifted you up with one arm under the bend of your knees and the other under your upper back. You placed both bags in your lap and wrapped an arm around his neck.

He began to walk further in the alley way shadows before you spoke up “These aren’t both mine!”

“You’ll have to get the other one to its rightful owner after you’ve put some actual clothes on and I’ve treated your feet.” You nodded silently, his tone still rough.

He took you back to your motel room, how he knew it was yours was bothering you. What was even more bothersome was his silence as he sat you at the edge of the bathtub, robe tossed on the floor and he began to run water while sitting on the toilet seat adjacent.

“Steve…” you broke the silence.

“How long have you been following me?” He cleared his throat and focused on cleaning out your feet.

“How long have you been trying to…” you winced as glass was being pulled from your feet “…find me?”

He pulled the last of the glass from your left foot and looked at you directly.

“You made it hard to find you, never staying in one spot for long,” he went to work on your right foot avoiding your gaze. “I was impressed; you never lost your edge for hiding huh?”

The implications related to your past were not lost on you. A past you worked hard to keep from most, but not him.

“I’m not as good as Nat but I certainly can stay hidden until I want to be found.” Silence encased the bathroom as he worked on your foot and you worked hard to ignore the feeling.

“8 months.” He spoke so softly you almost missed it. He had finished cleaning your feet and started wrapping them in gauze.

“Hm? 8 months?” He didn’t respond until he finished bandaging your feet and pulling them in to his lap.

He stared down at your feet, caressing your ankles. “We got to Wakanda,” you were right, “and Bucky wanted to go back under while they worked out how to reverse the effects of Hydra’s brainwashing.”

He raised his head to face you. “I started looking for you the moment he went under. I regretted not asking you to come with me.” He leaned forward placing his hand against you cheek, you immediately nuzzled into his hand keeping eye contact.

“When Nat heard about mercenary for hire making way along the coast of Morocco I had a suspicion it was you. I found you here a week ago, checking into this motel.”

“Why did you wait so long to talk to me?”

“Things have changed, I have changed. I’m not Captain America.” You slid into his lap, his hand gripping our thighs as you steadied yourself.

“You never were Captain America to me…” You push his hair falling onto his forehead to the side. It’s so disheveled; it was weird seeing him without it in perfect condition but you liked this more.

“We’re meant to grow Steve, it’s okay if you changed.” You kept gently caressing his face.

“I almost fucked you in that alley way. I would have too had that thief not started to wake up.”

You gasped at his words as he moved his hands to your hips sliding you closer to him in his lap, pushing you pelvis against his.

“In fact I think I would have liked him to have woken up, seen my cock buried deep in your tight pussy.” you whimpered as you grinded on him, his words scaring you as they were not him but excited you none less.

“Know this body belongs to me,” his hands smacked both your ass cheeks and pushed you flush to his hot confined throbbing cock. You gave a startled yelp that turned into a moan.

“That YOU belong to me,” he stood up, your legs wrapping around his waist again.

“You belong with me, by my side, forever,” the last part he spoke with hope, as if he wanted you to agree.

“Just ask,” you implored as he laid you on the bed, your knees bent and legs spread to make room for his giant body.

His eyes narrowed at you.

“I’m way past asking permission,” he growled and ripped your bikini top off, you moaned as you felt the fabric tighten then snap against his strength.

“Steve,” you tried to get him to talk to you more but he ignored you in favor of pulling his own shirt off then attacking your neck as he was in the alley.

This time instead he was roughing sucking on your neck while his hands roughing massaged your breasts.

You responded by wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling his hips down to grind against you. His rough attention was driving you insane.

To be without him for so long and come back with this force, this possessiveness nearly made you cum.

He continued to suck on your neck working to leave a mark, a reminder of what he told you. One of his hands moved inside your bikini bottoms.

Slowly rubbing a few circles around your clit you gasped and dug your nails into his shoulders, the sensation was too much. Just then he plunged two of his fingers inside you and curled up, continuing to rub random patterns against you clit with his thumb.

You lifted your upper body up, mewling at the sensation.

“Look at how responsive your body is to me, your pussy aching for me.” he growled into your ear, stopping his ministrations on your neck.

“Tell me, have you been taking care of yourself while I’ve been gone?” He lifted his head up looking you in the eyes a darkness there that was daring you to lie.

Your cheeks were already flush with arousal but you could feel them warm even more with embarrassment. “Ye-yes.” you got out meekly.

He chuckled, it was a dark chuckle, something you’ve never heard from him before.

“Did you think of me nightly doll face?” he continued thrusting his fingers into you at an increasing pace. You cried out gripping his forearm, it was almost too much.

“Oh no no,” he growled and increased his pace, curling his fingers ever so slightly reaching for your special spot. “You’re so tight around my fingers,”

“I missed feeling you wrapped around my cock.” He began to unzip his pants while speeding up his rubbing of your clit and adding a third finger inside your dripping pussy.

“Yes, you know what I want,” your finger nails dug into his arm. “You’re going to give this to me.”

Your eyes widened as you felt the pressure build up inside you. It was too much, this was nothing compared to what you could do for yourself. It was almost better than how it used to be between you two.

“Steve,” you gasped out the pressure building up at a scary pace.

“Yes doll face? What do you need?” A smirk played at his lips.

“Please-” but you couldn’t finish as you felt the dam release. It was over powering as your eyes rolled into the back of your head your hands going limp against his arm.

You could feel the wetness seep out of you.

“Fuck, you’re always so good for me.” you barely heard Steve’s words as the blood was rushing loudly through you, your body not able to come down as he continued to rub your clit but remove his fingers from inside you.

“Too much!” You gasped out, your hands trying to pry his hand off you. Your legs start to flail.

“No!” He ordered and you stilled. He pulled his cock from his pants, it was red and you could almost make out the throbbing veins from above.

You knew after 8 months without him it was going to be a bit of an adjustment given how long and thick he was.

“8 months you made me search for you,” you felt the head of his cock pressing against your opening. His words full of frustration and indicating he had been thinking about the time between as well.

Before you could express your concerns he plunged in. When you both felt him bottom out a mixture of moans and gasps were released between the two of you.

His fingers stopped rubbing you clit letting both of you revel in the feeling of finally being together again. He shifted his hips and you moaned out his name.

“That’s it, you know who you belong to.” he pulled himself out until just the tip was inside you.

You wrapped your legs back around his waist trying to pull him in. He made a sound of disapproval and pulled both your legs from around his waist and in front of him bending you in half.

“This is how I’ve wanted you,” his voice was graveled again, you saw the darkness in his eyes as he starred down at you. His body completely covering you.

“Helpless beneath me, all mine, and not pushing me to ask for it, but letting me take it.” He plunged back in at that, you cried out at the force of his thrust.

“Not too loud doll face, you don’t want to cause any concern have someone see you like this,” he smirked again, “or do you want someone to see you like this.”

You whimpered at the thought, finding it scary and turning you on even more at the same time.

He started a punishing pace, staring right into your eyes, as you held your legs together to the side of your face. His look was relief mixed with anger and that raw desire you were used to from him. You were trying to hold back your cries. He placed his hands on the back of your lower thighs, using it as leverage to continue his pace.

“Please,” You whimpered out, “Steve.”

He looked down at you raising an eyebrow.

“Come on,” he spoke your name tauntingly, “All you have to do is ask right?”

You groaned out, using your words against you. With every moment you were seeing a different side of Steve. You weren’t sure yet if it was good or bad but it certainly lead to a lot of pleasure.

“Cum, I want to-” you gasped out as he started rubbing you clit.

“Do it, cum on my cock,” his force was wearing down the bed frame, it began to creak and shake with each thrust.

You closed you eyes the intensity too much for you to even look at him, this was four times as intense as the last one. You tried to grasp anything you could to ground yourself.

You opened your eyes as he grabbed one of your hands, pulling to his face he kissed the back of your hand. Never breaking eye contact as he continued to thrust and rub your clit through your orgasm.

“Be good for me now, I want to feel you cum on my cock again,” Your eyes widened as you tried to shake your head no but it was too late.

“Remember I’m not asking,” he warned.

Another orgasm crashed over you unexpectedly from all the over stimulation.  Suddenly his pace picked up with urgency.

“I’m gonna cum in you doll,” you shook your head no. You knew it wasn’t safe.

“Steve, wait I’m-” he kept his pace up.

“I know, and I don’t care,” you felt yourself edging towards another orgasm at his words. What was wrong with you?!

“I’m going to fill you up with my seed,” he groaned at the image in his mind. “Your stomach round with OUR child. That’s what I want.”

You came again, it was too much, HE was too much, you felt your vision swirling.

“No, stay with me.” He quickly pulled your legs back around his waist. His hips movement becoming erratic and desperate.

He groan out your name as he came inside of you just as he said he would. His hips jerked as he continued to cum in you.

When he was spent, he didn’t pull out. Still hard he remained inside you.

“Steve, I can’t-”

“Sssh, I know I know.” He rolled over pulling you with him, staying inside of you.

A soft whimper escaped your lips as you sat up, feeling him shift inside you. He groaned and griped your hips.  

He bent his knees behind you and you leaned back on them. He thrust upwards once, watching your breasts bounce with the movement brought a smile to his face.

You giggled softly at his actions. The sensations making you giddy from all the endorphins running through you.

He felt like a drug induced dream almost. You frowned slightly, what if he wasn’t real?

You bent down towards him and kissed him hard, running your fingers through his hair.

“Please don’t disappear on me,” you pleaded against his mouth.

He looked at you in shock.

“What are you talking about?“he sat up pushing you up with him.

"What if they find you? Or Bucky again? You’ll go off and I don’t want to come between you two but-”

He kissed you gently, his hand caressing your cheek.

“You are mine and I am yours.” he flexed his hips proving his point and causing you to let out a moan.

“Prove that I’m yours,” he goaded you as he laid back.

You smiled at him as you placed you hands on his chest, and started to move your hips back and forth. The groans he emitted empowered you to speed up your movements.

Even with your current speed it wasn’t enough for Steve. He started thrusting upwards, you gasped in shock, everything was still so tinder.

With his feet planted flat on the bed and knees bent he started thrusting up into with precision. One of his hands shot up to grip your neck gently and the other began rubbing your clit.

You started to squirm and moan on top of him. It overwhelmed you but you didn’t want it to stop.

He tightened his grip around your neck, you went almost limp letting your weight fall on it and he smiled.

“Someone likes to be choked?” His words were accusatory but his tone was pure desire.

You meekly nodded your head followed by a struggled moan as he quickened his pace on your clit.

“Please, please,” you hoarse out within his grip.

“Don’t worry, I’ll give you that baby,” he started pounding into you from below.

“I can feel you tighten around me at the thought, I’ll give you my seed, but you have to be good.”

You immediately started cumming, pulsing around his cock as he continued his brutal pace.

“You really want it don’t you?” his hand left your clit to rub your lower abdomen.

“Do you feel me right there?” He pushed down and you flooded his lap cumming again. He groaned not expecting you to spasm around him again, he could take no more and with one final thrust he filled you again groaning out your name.

This time as the darkness began to swirl your vision it embraced you fully.

When you came to you first felt a warm damp feeling brushing over our inner thighs and groin. You slowly opened your eyes to see Steve still naked wiping you down with a warm wash cloth.

He looked up and smiled sheepishly when he saw you were awake.

“I may have treated you too roughly,” he admitted remorse clear in his voice.

“I’m sorry I lost control, after I kissed you the first time I could think of nothing but possessing you in every way possible.” He looked down as he continued to clean you.

“We can shower in a little bit once your energy is recouped.” He set the wash cloth on the bedside table and crawled up next to you and pulled you into his chest.

You curled up into him enjoying the rhythmic beat of his heart.

When you awoke again it was dark. Steve was walking about into the room, fully clothed and with food.

You smiled at him, sitting up in the bed causing the bed sheet that covered you to slip down. He hummed when he saw your chest.

You went to pull the sheet up but he spoke up “Don’t cover up, I love to see what is mine,” he growled.

“You better feed me before you start that up again.” He chuckled and sat the food down on the bed.

You two ate in silence, enjoying the food and each other’s company.

Once you were both finished it was time for a much needed shower. You wanted to shower together but that tiny bath tub proved to be ill accommodating to a super solider plus one.

You lay in the bed satisfied watching Steve put on his boxer briefs and get into bed with you.

“We’re heading to Wakanda tomorrow, any loose ends you need to tie up here before we go?”

You looked at him scandalously; did he just TELL you what you were doing?

“Steve, I have a few things may take a day or two-”

“Find a way to do it in one, our rendezvous is at 1900 hour tomorrow,” he looked at you with a stern gaze.

You went to voice your protest but before you could he shut it down.

“I’m not leaving you behind, I’m not asking either.” He laid back and pulled on top of his chest.

You huffed but cuddled up to him, nuzzling you face into his chest closing your eyes. A smile spread across your face. You wanted to be madder at him but demanding him to be at your side felt right. Maybe he needed to not be Captain America to become more Steve.

[7-wonders]

103 with Michael! - 🥦

I did Hawthorne!Michael bc I don’t have much experience writing for him :)

In your opinion, nothing is worse than disappointing your coven. Getting a verbal dressing down by your Supreme because you had suggested that the coven start preparing for the possibility that the “Boy Wonder” might complete the Seven Wonders makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. You shouldn’t have been scolded for being logical; although Cordelia is stressed about a warlock taking the test, there was no reason for her to snap at you in front of your sisters. Although you recognize that, it still makes you feel like you’ve failed when you see the anger in Cordelia’s eyes.

You had escaped the Hawthorne School as soon as you could, climbing the sloping terrain until the circular architecture was little more than a blob. The only saving grace from this situation is that none of the warlocks had to see you get reprimanded like a child; they were in some sort of meeting, and you and your sisters were in the area that had been specifically designated as Robichaux’s for the duration of the Seven Wonders. 

“I thought I had seen you sneak outside,” a smooth voice says behind you. You’re so used to the potential “Alpha” popping up suddenly that you don’t even jump when he makes his appearances.

“You don’t need to follow me around everywhere, you know. Your school doesn’t have a very complicated layout.”

Michael sits down next to you, ignoring the sideways glance you shoot in his direction. Unlike the rest of the warlocks, who avoided every single witch with the vigor of an elementary student afraid of catching cooties, Michael Langdon had decided that, for some reason or another, you were interesting enough to be around. Despite your apprehensiveness towards his motives, you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed the attention this handsome, talented man gave you. You would never let him know that, of course, hence the chilly demeanor you still attempt to keep up.

“I know. But since this is typically where I go to get away from everything, I figured I should make sure you use this spot responsibly.”

“Ah, the fawning warlocks must get old.” It sounds sarcastic, but Michael knows you’re being genuine.

“I’m not one for the spotlight, so it’s taken me some time to get used to it.” He bumps his shoulder against yours when you give a half-hearted laugh, finally getting you to fully look at him. “Are you okay?”

You sigh heavily. “Great, does everybody know?”

“No.” It goes unsaid that he was eavesdropping, whether that be through normal means or by using powers that you’ve never even seen a witch harness before. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“At this point, if a clown invited me into the woods,” you shrug, “I would just go.”

Michael frowns at the defeat in your voice. “You don’t mean that.”

“When Pennywise shows up at the treeline holding a red balloon, I’m going to prove you wrong.” Michael tilts his head in confusion, obviously not understanding the pop culture reference. “Never mind.”

“You’re not allowed to follow a clown into the woods.” That earns a laugh from you.

“Oh, really? Says who?”

“I do!” Michael insists.

“You’re supposed to hate me, hate witches in general. I don’t understand why you’re so hellbent on caring about my wellbeing.”

“Because I like you. You don’t despise me because I’m a warlock, or because I’m powerful. You don’t treat me differently, or act like you’re better than me. I care about you, whether you like it or not, and I want to know if you’re okay.”

“Truthfully, Michael, no, I’m not okay. I just got yelled at like a five year old by my Supreme, all because I suggested we shouldn’t be so sexist and start thinking about what happens if you do pass the Seven Wonders. Not only that, but it happened in front of the people who I call my sisters, and now they probably all think I have a stupid crush on you or something.”

“It’s actually the opposite.” 

Michael steals the wind from your sails, and you stare at him with wide eyes. “What?”

“If they think you have a crush on me, they have it backwards. It’s me who has a crush on you.” You let out a surprised laugh, feeling better for the first time all day. “I’m not joking.”

“You’re not?”

He bites his lip, looking uncharacteristically embarrassed. “In all honesty, I thought you already knew. Especially after you helped me with vitalum vitalis yesterday and I couldn’t stop staring at you. I just assumed you were playing hard to get.”

Your cheeks heat up in record time, and you look down at the ground to see how tightly your fingers are gripping the grass. “Well, uh, I definitely wasn’t expecting that today.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything right now,” he laughs, pleased that he caught you so off-guard.

“Let’s just focus on keeping you alive through the Seven Wonders, then we can talk about feelings.” Michael smiles after voicing his agreement, already knowing how this will go. Sometimes, prophecy can be a good thing. 

[nutellaninja0001]

I’m honestly not mad at the way Jon’s character was written in the premier. It was everything we could want if Jonsa and Pol Jon is to be believed.

I don’t want fellow members of this ship to turn on Jon or call him an idiot or that he wasn’t showing Sansa enough respect this episode. He really is working with what he has and he’s walking on thin ice with a lot of things up in the air. Let’s give the guy a break when we really look at the circumstances of his situation and try to find a reason for his actions in the first episode.

We see Jon already trying to warn Daenerys again that the North will not like her and keep her appeased even from the very start of the episode. We have to look at him from his POV. The North can go on mistrusting Daenery and they can be angry with him that he bent the knee and gave away his crown. But they’re going to be alive to do so. Jon’s in laser focus mode and he’s accomplished what he set out to do, get dragonglass and come back with support that can surely help win the war or the very least give them a fighting chance. When he’s hearing the lords out to their problems does he stand up for Daenerys?

Defend her to the lords? Give any praise or back his reasoning that she is the rightful queen as he did at the DragonPit to Cersei? No. We get none of it. Instead we have Jon confirming what’s essentially the basics of the Pol Jon theory.

(Ignore the grammar issue this was rushed)

Jon would never prioritize a title over the survival of his people. (Even though it’s a lot more than that) That’s what his whole mission was about and that is STILL his mission. He does not speak for Daenerys as a queen but as what she can bring for the fight. He is putting everything else aside to focus on the bigger picture.

But while he’s trying to juggle maintaining this grasp of the situation he’s putting more and more on the line for this to work.

I saw some fans say that Jon just sat by and let Daenerys threaten Sansa that way. I personally don’t see it like that anymore. Jon is listening but he cannot react what so ever right now. The camera keeps him in the frame and he’s acting as if he did not hear what he just did. But if you look at him, Jon looks restrained as if he’s holding back on purpose here. If Jon were shocked by Daenerys behavior here we would have seen a shot of his reaction to this statement because it would have been a surprise his lovely queen is threatening his sister. Instead, Jon says nothing.

Jon hasn’t forgotten what Daenerys is. And he certainly doesn’t forget she expects others to turn on their family for her own benefit.

Why did we need a specific reaction of Jon here? Because he couldn’t believe what she was saying to Tyrion and how angry she got at the prospect of Tyrion having any other loyalties expect to her.

And this isn’t the only time Daenerys vaguely threatens Sansa either to Jon or while he is right there. First in the greathall and than out at the courtyard when Daenerys brings up the fact that Sansa doesn’t like her. Jon tries to end the discussion and again, calm Daenerys.

Jon doesn’t care about this. He never has.

But he’s trying to keep the topic light hearted and playing it off as if this is just Sansa’s thing and she has to warm up to you. But what follows is telling to just how guarded Jon is. especially around Daenerys.

We know what Daenerys is implaying here and Jon knows what Daenerys is implaying. This conversation is strangely cut off but not before we get a shot of Jon who’s face tells us nothing of what he maybe thinking of this comment right here because he doesn’t say a word. We’ve seen Jon in season 7 promise to protect her, watch over her, and keep her safe. Looking back now I think those scenes were planted so we could see the contrast in how aggressive he can be when it comes to Sansa and how simply clueless he is about her with Daenerys.

And then after this. Mr Jon “there’s no time for this.” Snow decides to take a joy ride with Daenerys and puts himself in a situation he does not want to appease her. When she suggest he ride her dragon he’s hesitant but her persistence doesn’t leave him room to deny after how poorly she was received at court. They ride together and Daenerys is oblivious to Jon’s behavior or the fact you have Drogon staring him down. Listen to your pets girl! Drogon knows!

Another comment I saw fans have an issue with is during the reunion between Jon and Arya in the Godswood. It’s sweet and there’s some banter involving their weapons but the conversation quickly turns it around to Sansa and Daenerys.

Thank goodness for the Jonsa fans who made the argument that this comment could simply be Jon connecting with Arya the only way he knows how since the last time they saw each other back in season 1! He’s used to the Arya who could make jabs at Sansa like they were when they were kids. We actually had a moment in the books where after he gives Arya needle he insist that they “Don’t tell Sansa.”

This is highlighted when he’s shocked to see Arya defending Sansa because that is not the girl he remembers. He remembers them always getting in each other’s hair and now they are a unit. He also gives the same look to Bran after their reunion as he does to Arya because Jon doesn’t know who they anymore. I really don’t think he meant anything serious behind it because when the scene goes on we see Jon wants Sansa to be with him. He needs her support and he also craves it when he tells Arya she’s his family too and this is an on going issue with Jon and Sansa that hasn’t quite been resolved yet. Jon desperately wants Sansa to know he’s doing the best for their family and her and he asks as much during their private conversation.

This could have been a scene that absolutely crushed the Pol Jon theory if Jon felt he could let his guard down and express how he feels about Daenerys and how much he believes in her. It can cement Sansa as a confidant and instead we have Jon saying the same thing he’s been saying since season 7. He only talks as what Daenerys can bring to their survival. Even when Sansa makes an indication that the only difference between Daenerys and her father is in her looks, Jon doesn’t correct her. Which would have been a good time to switch the dialogue and have Jon claim Daenerys is not her father after Sansa remarks this. And she asks him point blank. And he never answers. I don’t need to discuss the implication when many of you have already noticed it.

We haven’t seen Jon this emotionally bare since his reunion with Arya and Bran but there’s tension in this scene unlike there was with the first two. He’s visibly stressed in this conversation. He’s sighing deeply and it always feels as though this is intimate and personal. Like there’s something left unsaid when there shouldn’t be. They spoke of politics for only a moment before Sansa made it personal with the “No she’s much prettier” comment and Jon’s “Do you have any faith in me at all?” They want to be a team but Sansa is hesitant on if Jon is doing the best to protect the family and Jon is desperate to show Sansa he is.

Then near the episode we have Jon hit with the sledgehammer and adding another layer to an already complex situation. Jon is informed by Sam that not only did Daenerys burn his father and brother, not only is Jon asked if he would have done the same, he’s then told he’s the heir to the Iron Throne. More importantly, he’s Daenerys rival to the Iron Throne and has Sam telling Jon Daenerys should not be queen.

Think of what’s going through Jon’s mind here. He doesn’t correct Sam. He doesn’t defend her or really anything. He has a horrified look on his face. Not only is all this heaped on him in an instant, they also give us a little foreshadowing when Jon says “My father was the most honorable man I’ve ever met, and he lied to me my whole life?” We already had Jon tell this to Jorah. Why not save it for this moment instead? But it’s a reminder to the audience that the honorable Ned Stark kept a lie for love for years. Even to his family and those he loved the most.

Daenerys is murdering lords who didn’t bend, she threatened Sansa earlier that episode. Who’s to stop her if a lord speaks out? Or refuses to bend? Who’s to stop her if Sansa didn’t bend? Arya or Sam? And the notion terrifies Jon when he can only say that’s “treason” as if he’s trying to handle both the NK and this wildcard who could kill them all if she so pleased.

Jon didn’t forget who he was. Daenerys was the lesser of two evils and he’s thinking short term to end this war. He tells Sam this very thing when he learns of the Taryls deaths. He’s dead focus on this mission and unlike Melisandre, he can’t just send this one off. He’s forced to work with those who can be life or death (to his knowledge) for his people. Didn’t he learn that back in season 2?

Overall this is the first episode and we shouldn’t jump on Jon if everything isn’t perfect or how I feel it should be said. I think this episode was great for us in terms of theories and i believe we will have a situation where Jon must choose duty or love and this time it’ll be for love.

[nolongerironicteenwrites]

i was in a mood to write for my hp ocs so, i did. i wanted to write angst so, i did. this takes place between like the order of the phoenix and the half-blood prince

send me a prompt that isn’t smut: https://nolongerironicteenwrites.tumblr.com/post/185262848479/%EF%BE%9F-prompt-list%EF%BE%9F

reader prompts: “`Don’t look at me like that” “You’re the one who left. You turned your back and walked away.” “Please don’t walk out that door.” and “You haven’t lost me.” 

Jubilee Brinks x Percy Weasley 

Life was dark. Jubilee left her old life behind and had been doing odd jobs here and there to save and live. The ministry is a mess and she hasn’t heard from Oliver or Jami. Though she hadn’t been expecting to, Oliver was a Muggle-born and was doing things for the order. No one knew what was going to happen to the Muggle-borns or half-bloods. Jubilee and Percy also haven’t spoken in nearly a year. 

Nine months to be more precise, about the same time there were questions rising in the ministry. Percy and his parents had already had their fight. Jubilee stood but his side until she couldn’t anymore. She honestly believed what she was being fed until Jamison and she had it out. The last argument Percy and Jubilee had played in her head on repeat. 

Jubilee had the day off, she had put her idea of a ministry career on hold to pursue a dream she didn’t know she had, playing professional Quidditch like her dad. Her and Percy had moved in together, he was working for the ministry. Life’s tensions were high but the two of them pretended everything was okay. A painful bliss. 

Green lit up the fireplace and Jubilee flinched. She had been on edge since the last time she and Jamison talked and the threat of war on the horizon. Everything was so unclear. Tensions are high and Jules had to make the choice as to where her priorities lied. 

Percy emerged, dusting himself off. He groaned a bit but then softened when he spotted Jubilee on their couch. She was his anchor in the craziness of the world. She took off her glasses and placed her book down to stand up. 

  “Good evening Jubilee, dear.” 

Percy walked up to her and rested his hand on her hip. He leaned in a kissed Jubilee. Percy had been working longer hours. Everything was a mess honestly and Jubilee wasn’t sure what to do. Percy excused himself to go change for the evening. 

  “How are Jamison and Oliver?” he called from the bedroom. 

  “I’m not sure, they canceled lunch!” Jubilee replied sitting back down. 

  “I’m sorry to hear that honey.” he sighed, pulling on a sweater as he walked into the living room. 

Jubilee shrugged, stating it was okay. Oliver was doing some work that was a secret he couldn’t explain. Percy scoffed, 

  “Here we go again.” 

Jubilee glared at him. 

  “Don’t look at me like that.” he warned. 

  “Like what?” she replied and annoyed tone evident in her voice. 

  “It is all the Dumbledore and order nonsense.” he waved off, “Jubilee you don’t actually believe that?” 

  “My brother. I’m sorry, but I believe and trust my brother.” 

Percy rolled his eyes and Jubilee shot up. 

  “Oh my. You-” he began. 

  “Do not try me. I have stuck by you through this all. My brother cares about us, I’m sorry, but you’re the one who left! You turned your back and walked away from your own family. I can’t do that to mine!” she shouted. 

Percy’s hand moved to pinch the bridge of his nose. A habit he’s always done when he’s stressed out. 

  “Jubilee can we please not?” he asked.

  “Why Percy? Why are you so damned prideful?” she yelled. 

  “Self-preservation. There is a threat of war! Come on! We all need protection!” he argued. 

  “Protection in numbers?! Your family loves you and you just left!” 

Percy threw up his hands in disbelief. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Jubilee of all people was trying to lecture him about loyalty. 

  “You cannot act all ‘holier than thou’ and like you’re innocent!” he countered. 

  “I can admit when I’m wrong!” she replied, “Unlike you, you pompous git!” 

Percy wheeled around. Jubilee hasn’t called him that since their seventh year, right before his seventeenth birthday. Jubilee stormed away from him and started throwing her things into a suitcase. She grabbed her wad off the bedside table and slammed the door shut. She walked past Percy to the door. 

   “Please,” he started, “Don’t walk out that door.” 

Jubilee stalled for a second outside the door but decided to leave anyway. She slipped out quickly and closed the door quicker.  Percy ran to the door and as he placed his hand on the doorknob he heard the crack. He dropped to his knees in front of the door, crying wishing she would come back. 

That was nine months ago. And she still cries. In the flurry of trying to leave she accidentally took on of Percy’s sweaters. She has worn it often enough that she’s worn the scent off of it. Sighing Jubilee pulled the sweater closer to her. She had a candle lit in her kitchen window, but everything else was dark. There was a series of knocks on the door and Jubilee jumped up. She turned on a light and went check through her peephole. She saw Jamison and Oliver making her smile. Oliver looked nervous so Jubilee cracked open the door. 

  “Hello, yes, he’s a right mess.” Oliver groaned. 

He stepped aside to reveal Percy. Jubilee nearly slammed the door shut but Jamison caught it. 

   “Please.” 

Jubilee sighed and opened her door. The three of them walked in. Percy looked lost. Jubilee was mildly annoyed for all of them to be in her home, well, not home but still. The three of them sat on her sofa while her in her chair. 

   “The minister took him home to his house, and you could imagine how that went.” Oliver explained, “So he came to us, crying.” 

Jubilee had her arms crossed while she listened. Percy looked uncomfortable, Jubilee herself felt awkward enough for him. 

   “Why did you bring him here?” she asked, “We’re not dating. He seemed to think more for himself than me.” 

Percy looked upset. 

   “You’re wearing my sweater?” he asked. 

   “Yeah. You haven’t lost me. I just hurt when you went on about self-preservation rather than seeing what was right in front of you.” Jubilee admitted 

Percy started to cry. He got up and walked to Jubilee. She stood up like routine, he placed his hand on her hip like he always did before he kissed her, but this time, he didn’t. He just rested his forehead on her’s. 

   “I love you, so much. I always have, these nine months have torn me apart.” Percy admitted, “You were right, you are always right.” 

Jubilee started to tear up too. 

   “You two are ridiculous.”  Jamison groaned. 

   “Kiss her already!” Oliver laughed. 

Percy leaned in and kissed her. He kissed her senseless, pouring nine months worth of unsaid feelings and being apart into on kiss. 

   “Do this to me again and-” 

   “You’ll hex me into next week.” the others in the apartment finished.  

Jubilee smiled and looked at Percy. 

   “Come home please?” she asked. 

Percy nodded.

   “For you, I’ll always come home.” he leaned on her once more. 

Jubilee and Percy were crying together now. She was the only person he really had. When he lost her, his world crashed down. Everything felt wrong and he knew it. H had no family, no Jules, nothing. 

   “Let’s work on repairing your relationship with your family next.” Oliver offered, pulling Jamison to him. 

Percy shook with nerves. Jubilee placed her hands on his biceps to calm him down. She smiled up at him and kissed his cheek to calm him down. The gesture was enough to make him feel for once it was all going to be okay. 

[fallingintogracee]

一封信

dear future me reading this, i hope you’ve grown and moved on. 

here’s a digital letter that i’ll never send to you;

i care about you. i really do and i still do. 

when your text came, i wasn’t expecting it obviously, i mean we’ve broken up for about 2 weeks or so.

but it ruined me emotionally. 

why did you, have to pour your emotions out to me, when i was hurting at the same level. you, just made it harder for me. so much harder.

what’s broken is hard to put together again. it’s like glass, when it’s broken, it can be fixed but the mark it leaves.. is obvious

i don’t understand. why did you have to ask for a relationship again when we knew things were not right. well, i knew things were not right. 

when you talked to me that Monday morning, i remember being dead tired after a stressful class, but i remember your words, crisp and clear. i knew you wanted a break if things weren’t going to get better. and it wasn’t.

are you regretting what you said after you sent me those texts? words can’t be unsaid.

and i’m sorry for making it so bad till a break had to ‘happen’. i knew on February 4th, when i made one of the most rash decisions i had ever made, that it was a mistake. but. you. wouldn’t. understand. you wouldn’t understand what i meant by ‘i wasn’t in the right season yet’.

it wasn’t the right time for me to start loving again. my heart was still bloody bruised from last year, incompletely healed, guilty and bleeding. yet you came along and i expected myself to love you with all i could.

i couldn’t.

me, being me, prioritized everything else. my time, my family, my friends all were above you.

while you, prioritized me above everything.

and of course both don’t seem to match up don’t they? 

i bloody told you.

i told you.

i

wasn’t 

ready.

but no, you wouldn’t listen.

oh damn i love hearing that repeat through my mind the entire night, ‘if you want me to wait, i don’t know how long i can wait before i move on’.

along those lines i would say.

it haunted me for the whole night and of course i didn’t want to let it slip. 

i was dumb, pure dumb.

i told you i couldn’t give you my all. i wasn’t in the right mind. 

i was recovering from poison and you made me drink it again.

could’ve spared the both of us so much more than this pain we’re going through right now. i’m so angry, so damn angry at you, yet at the same time, it’s so hard to move on from you.

you wouldn’t be hurting if i didn’t make that dumb mistake of giving in that night. what exactly was i thinking?

i just wish you’d listen and understand. maybe you aren’t mature enough to think far and think deep. maybe in the future, this would help you. this would change and grow you.

maybe in the future, you would understand.

and maybe by then, you would’ve moved on. and you should, you deserve someone who can give you her time and attention. 

not someone who’s still struggling like me, still struggling with finding myself and healing my heart all over again. still struggling with giving God my all and finding hope through depression and darkness. 

and to the future me, i hope you’ve learnt by now. learn. please do. don’t love so easily just because you think it’s the right person. the right person and the wrong timing doesn’t mean that things will work out. timing. is. important. it’ll save you a lot of trouble shan, a lot. and not just you, a lot of trouble for that guy too. so please, don’t act rashly. don’t be pressurized by words that probably were never even sincere and genuine. wait if you need to. as long as you need to. if the guy can’t wait for you, he isn’t worth it. he isn’t worth chasing after. damn, he isn’t even worth liking. 

so no, guard your heart. love yourself, love God, love your studies, love your friends, your family. don’t commit to a relationship so fast. a relationship isn’t just fun and games. it’s two souls intertwining. and a break up is the the cutting and ripping apart of both. so it isn’t as easy as it looks. it isn’t a ‘risk’ to take anymore even if you think it’s true love. it isn’t. it’s the involvement of one’s heartfelt feelings, don’t play around with those. 

hope you’ve learnt xo.

[etaeternum]

Resolution

Bond of the Grey (Dragon Age Fanfic)

Ch 4

A flashback on the pain of Caoilainn’s infertility. The healing couple sets some rules.  TW: Depression, infertility, referenced cheating. 

9:35 Dragon

The third year, toward the end of their holiday at the cabin, they walked to Redcliffe Village to gather supplies for their trip back to Denerim. Merchants gawked at the royal couple’s candidness each time they came for supplies. The pair wandered the town with relaxed conversation until Caoilainn stopped in her tracks in the busy commotion in the village.

Alistair noticed she was not at his side from a few paces ahead. Brows furrowed with concern, he swiveled to see her staring. Following her eyes, he spotted a common woman holding hands with a small child as they walked through the crowd. Conversing with the little one, the mother pointed to something in the distance and looked back to her daughter with a wide smile. Alistair’s gaze followed where the woman pointed. A short distance away, a man who must have been the girl’s father bent to his knees and opened his arms. The little girl waddled to him. He scooped her up and lifted her into the air before bringing his giggling daughter in for a hug. The mother, still smiling, walked to them; she was expecting another child.

“Oh. I just remembered I probably left the lantern lit... and the front door wide open,” Alistair mumbled, painfully aware of the sensitive topic of their infertility highlighted by this happy family's sentimental moment. What had once been a distant hope for a miracle pregnancy had sharpened to stabbing hopelessness over the years. He knew it sank into her gut each time she witnessed a mother and child, even worse, an elated family. “Come on, my love. Let's get back.” Alistair put his arm around Caoilainn’s shoulder and ushered her to walk a different direction.

Caoilainn gave a blank nod, her eyes reddening, tears pooling as she turned away. She shielded her eyes with a free hand as they walked, hiding her tearful reaction. With no clear way to console her, apart from offering guidance, Alistair walked Caoilainn in silence back to the cabin. Grief-stricken mood swings often incited emotional distance. Alistair still didn't know how to handle them; his usual method of giving her space wasn’t an option.

The two entered the cabin. An unexpected change of pace, Caoilainn spoke. With a heavy sigh, her head lowered and shook before facing Alistair. “I don’t want to go back,” Caoilainn declared as the door clicked shut behind Alistair.

His head tilted to one side. He made careful choice of his words, “I’m sorry, my love but we have to go back. We can’t stay here.”

Her gaze met his, brows furrowed, pleading and angry. Stubborn by nature, Caoilainn's stance stood strong. “Alistair, I’m tired of it and I don’t want to do it anymore. It’s like I’m at my mother’s salons all the time.” She rolled her eyes. Elbows bent, her hands spread with her aggravated speech. A probing gaze searched for his understanding as her words fell. “I hate entertaining noble women and I’m certain they judge me for not giving you a child. And you know I want to, Alistair, more than anything. But I can’t.” Caoilainn’s final statement released with a tired sigh, “I’d rather be in armor.”

He snorted, a slight chuckle of agreement. “Oh, I know it. You and me both. I hate meetings with advisors, signing scrolls, sitting through court,” he walked to her and put his gentle hands on her shoulders. “But I need you, my love. The gorgeous, smart, strong Queen that you are. I need your help with all this King stuff.”

Alistair valued his wife's return to Denerim three years ago. If he ignored what he knew of her relationship with her Lieutenant, Caoilainn's presence gave him support and her experience as Warden Commander made for good counsel. The choice to enjoy her return and trust its permanence abated any urge to confront the issue.

Caoilainn took an intense turn to meet his gaze with a creased brow and set jaw. “Then let me come to your advisory meetings. I can add my thoughts in court. It would save time from you asking for my advice later when you need it.”

“Well,” his gaze wandered and his eyebrows gathered as the word trailed off. “It’s really more of a man’s game. You know what I mean? No girls allowed, so to speak. I know it’s stupid, but I can’t change the rules.”

The excuse lacked validity. Women held roles and had voice in his court though few. Representatives from varying regions of Ferelden primarily consisted of men. Alistair's aversion to Caoilainn’s proposition sprang from insecurity.

Disgusted, her mouth slacked, lip curled; she blinked in disbelief. Exaggerated and annoyed annunciation coated each word. “But you can. You’re the King, Alistair. You make the rules.” She shirked her shoulders away from his hands.

Cheeks reddened, Alistair shrugged and his palm rubbed his neck. “That’s true, I suppose but I don’t know if everyone else is ready for that. I’m sorry, my love. I’d rather not rock the boat too much just yet. I’m still fairly new to this King business.” He avoided her suggestion.

That same year Caoilainn returned to Vigil’s Keep.

Days passed. Alistair’s disdain became annoyance with longing; churning the strange amalgam of love and resentment, anger and pining with neither a catalyst nor relief in sight.

The size of the collective forces required the fleet to march north through the Emerald Graves, reaching the low-lying Dales. Plains of open field skirted the forested land east until the frigid climate of the Emprise. Wider ground permitted the armies to march freely, less encumbered by the wooded environment. Grass and sparse trees spread through the large valley. Formations of rocks protruded from the earth, breaking up the uneven grasslands. Abandoned buildings showed remnants of complicated history, and occupied military bases needing repair scattered between boulders.

Alistair’s frustration came and went in waves as he stood away from the bustling camp unpacking for the evening. Instead, he observed the land ahead. Typical, he noted. She's given up. It often seemed habitual for Caoilainn to practice evasion of situations where she didn't have control. Reminded of her predictability, Alistair evaluated her absence as true to her pattern. Though he wasn’t surprised, the realization hurt.  

“Alistair?” A tentative and careful voice rang from behind; she stated simply his name. He closed his eyes. With a deep breath, he allowed Caoilainn’s voice to resonate and soothe stressed nerves, unable to deny he had missed the sound.

He replied without facing her. “Come join me to revel in the wondrous sight of the Orlesian countryside.” His sarcastic sing-song voice played at the deteriorating environment. Caoilainn’s quiet steps brought her to his side; Alistair pointed. “See, on this side is a crumbling Orlesian building. But over here is a collapsed military base because of civil war- Orlesians love civil war, you know.” He took in an excessive gasp, “And if you look far enough in the distance, you can even make out decayed elven architecture. Isn’t it lovely? We should come back here on holiday.”

“I’ll pass,” she gave a relaxed giggle, amused with Alistair’s review of the landscape. Relieved to receive his humor after spending days hesitating to approach him again. His playfulness made uplifting distraction from her fatigue. “I’d rather the cabin.”

She referred to the cabin outside of Redcliffe Village: the peaceful resting place purchased the first time she returned from Vigil’s Keep. After each Summerday the royal couple hid for a month in the mountains, away from the city. The visits ceased when Caoilainn fled back to the Wardens.

“I sold it,” Alistair replied without moving, his tone cold and indifferent. “The second year you were gone, I couldn’t reach you. I wouldn’t use it and I didn’t want the reminder of the good times we had there.”

“They weren’t all good times,” Caoilainn’s sad murmur echoed his aloofness. Her fond memories of the cabin had been sullied by Alistair’s timidity when she confronted him about changing policies.

Their last conversation at the cabin, not one of his finest moments, had replayed until his stomach turned. Nauseated and ashamed of his cowardice, regret singed his ego, now prodded by her murmur. “I’m sorry,” Alistair snapped an authentic but irritated apology.

“I’m sorry I ran away,” she mirrored his remorse with her own.

Amends hesitated; silence burdened with the unsaid. Side by side, the pair stood looking out on the horizon as dusk fell. Tacit reconciliation teetered on a cusp.

Emotion broke through Alistair’s tone. Sadness and regret sounded from the surface and underneath it, fear. “I don’t know what to do,” he explained. “Whether you cheat on me, or you run, or you die-” The last word stung. Alistair’s head made a quick turn as the impact hit. He inhaled. “How do I know you’re not just going to leave?” Like everyone does. Pain filled his incredulous question.

A teary gaze up from Alistair’s side, Caoilainn wiped her eyes. “I’m here and I'm not going anywhere. I’m committed, Alistair. I’ll do my best not to die anytime soon, but in the meantime I want to be with you. What do you need from me to prove that?”

“Rules,” his even tone gave a quick reply. Head turned to pierce her stare, he bit his lip for a moment then replied, jaw firm. “I need rules we agree on.”

Brows furrowed, unclear of his demand, she asked for clarification, “What sort of rules?”

“No one else,” he answered with his first rule. “It’s our marriage, not to be shared with anyone. No matter the distance between us, and no matter the time before we see each other again.”

“Of course,” she gave a hurried nod, “that’s a given.”

“Well, I figured I would make it clear, in case you had any other plans.”

Caoilainn sighed at his admonishment. “Alistair,” she groaned.

“I’m not done, my love,” he said, his sharp tone lifting as his mood softened. “Rule two: be honest with me. I want no more secrets.” Caoilainn’s silent nod gave him a signal to continue. “Rule three: Don’t make your decisions based on me. I don’t want your counsel if you’ll resent me for it. Don’t come back to Denerim to make me happy.”

“Thank you,” she cooed. Unhealthy elements of their relationship often arose from ill-considered efforts to satisfy the other. Caoilainn smiled; her tense shoulders eased.  

“Uh-huh,” he took her gratitude and gave a meager grin. “But that one’s for my sake as much as yours. Rule four: do not undermine me. I am the King of Ferelden, Caoilann and I need your respect.”

“My fealty stands, Alistair,” her hand covered her chest as she bowed her head. “No undermining. Do you have any other rules?”

“At the moment, just one. Tell me what you want from me. Please, if you’re missing something, if you need something, I need to know.”

“Those rules are fair,” she agreed. Her head lowered as she sought words. “I’ll need my own.”

“All right. State your terms, my Queen.” He lifted his arms, palms out. “Remember to go easy on me.”

Caoilainn gave a playful roll of her eyes. “One,” she lifted her finger to exemplify the word. “I need my independence. I’m not just your lovely Queen. No more spies and I want my own work. Most importantly, I want to be recognized for it.”

“Oh, woman,” Alistair snorted and rubbed his chin. “I said go easy on me. Damn, you drive a hard deal.” Caoilainn’s brows lifted, waiting for his confirmation. “We’ll make it work, my love.”

“Two: Don’t appease me. Don’t hold your frustration, anger or sadness and take it out on me ten years later.”

“Got it. Must bottle feelings for less than ten years,” he bobbed his head in agreement, a playful grin highlighting his jest.

“Alistair,” she groaned, failing her attempt to withhold a chuckle. “I’m not kidding.”

“No appeasing,” he confirmed. “Check. It’s a real shame though. I’m definitely the best appeaser I know.”

“Three: I won't make your decisions for you. I’m your wife, not your mother.”

“Ouch!” Alistair laughed and cupped his hand over his heart.

“I mean it,” she assured, her expression showing her severity. “Four: I stay Commander until we find a cure.” Alistair’s eyes squinted, humor lost. “Or until the Inquisition no longer needs us, then I’ll come back to Denerim. But I still want to make time for the search.” He gave a solemn nod and waited for her final rule. Caoilainn’s eyes widened, her face pleading, palms lifted. “Nate is my friend. I swear to you, nothing will happen between us, but he’ll need me if he takes over as Commander. Five: I keep communication with Nathaniel when I return to the city.”

The wisdom Caoilainn gained as Commander occurred when she undertook rebuilding the order on her own. Alistair's duties as King kept him from joining. She stayed embittered by his abandonment, neglecting her anger around the topic until she confessed her pain at Skyhold.

Frowning, Alistair gave a decisive shake of his head. “I can’t have that,” he replied. “I don’t trust him, Caoilainn and that would challenge the trust I need to rebuild with you.”

“It’s not that simple. There’s so much to leading the order, communications with Weisshaupt, the other divisions. I can’t just leave him to figure it out like I had to,” she reasoned, desperate to explain the complicated nature of taking over as Warden Commander.

“No,” Alistair reiterated, predicting her rationalization. “You can find someone else to command or he can communicate with me, the King if he needs help.”

“Alistair,” she made a curt statement of his name as if he might hear the harshness of this requirement. Unmoving, Alistair peered down at Caoilainn, set in his decision. With a deep breath in, Caoilainn centered herself, calming her nerves and worry surrounding her potential successor. She gave a patient nod. Her future with Alistair dependent on this priority made the choice simple.  “I understand.”

Resolution discovered, conversation assuaged years of bitterness and guilt. Mutual observance of reaction found amity. The two faced each other, Caoilainn in her Warden gambeson, Alistair in his leather brigandine; the Inquisition camp nearly set for the evening on one side and the open field of the Exalted Plains spread on the other.

“The rules can change.” Alistair broke their respectful silence. His hands found their way back to her shoulders. “But we need to talk should they be changed, expanded, or added to.”

“I appreciate that,” Caoilainn replied and held his gaze. Eyes locked, intense in agreement. Her excited heart fluttered with gratitude as relief washed over. The looming fear she might lose him vanished, bringing appreciative tears in place. “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied. Effortless words, unneeded, understood by both, and spoken out of familiarity.

Rules set, hearts lifted, and hope renewed, both given an opportunity for redemption. Alistair’s anger now distant with her assurance and commitment; Caoilainn’s blind trust affirmed by his ardent love.

Alistair stepped in. Bodies pressed, a hand moved from her shoulder to her neck, his thumb pressed against her cheek. The other hand found her waist. Foreheads touched, thankful for reunion, absorbing hard earned connection. Alistair’s head lowered; earnest lips found hers, sealing their agreement with a kiss.

In unspoken congruity, the pair walked from the camp. Extending the harmony of this unifying outcome, savoring the moment in ardor. Like-minded steps carried them through the plains as darkness fell. The two walked in reverence. Stars shined from the clear sky, illuminating their path. Unhurried conversation allowed time to wander; flirtatious subtleties mixed through their dialogue more as the hour drew late. The Inquisition camp drifted from sight.

Concordant, the couple stopped as if reaching their intended destination. A tree marked the location. Its drooping limbs and base composed of many wide segments was unlike the barren branches of timber in the rest of the plains.

Caoilainn turned to face him. “We made it,” she whispered, distinguishing their wordless communication of intention. A few steps backward brought her under the tree’s protective arms.

“We did,” Alistair echoed, following her steps until they were both under the branches’ haven.

Steady steps, Caoilainn’s back bumped the tree and Alistair closed the space, pinning her so the thick trunk stood between them and the Inquisition camp. A small whimper released, Caoilainn’s hand grabbed the cord linking his spaulder. She pulled him in for a kiss. Engaged, the pair locked mouths. Alistair’s hand returned to the base of her scalp and their tongues separated lips, twirling in celebration of reunion.

Long seconds stretched by, love rekindling to fire until Alistair broke away. Caoilainn’s moan resonated as her neck tilted. Revealing sensitive skin begging to be bitten or throttled in a primal nature.

“I have another rule,” he mumbled, nuzzling his nose against the tender skin of her neck before leaving a gentle kiss.

Caoilainn emitted a soft ‘mmm,’ lost in anticipation for him to inflict brief anguish to stimulate pleasure.

“Rule six: no more pain. I’m not hurting you, Caoilainn. Even if you like it,” he murmured into her ear. The curve of his grin tickled.

Her hum turned to a whine; a disappointed groan unhappy with this information. She lifted her head, returning his gaze; displeased brows furrowed, lip protruded in a subtle pout. Something she discovered in her time away from Alistair, Caoilainn's penchant for masochism, built on a foundation of trust in whoever delivered the sensations, offered a reliable escape from life's pressures.

His wrinkled forehead reconnected with hers. “There’s already been enough pain between us.” Light earnest explained details of the rule, “But I reserve the right to grab that magnificent ass, and I might take an occasional nibble here and there, but no pain. If you want to get hurt, go practice in the training yard.”

She gazed up from under thick lashes and inhaled; her face relaxed, and she agreed. “Yes, my King.”

Alistair blinked, cherishing her reply, and allowing its essence to sink in. The authentic tone delivered three words and promised her total commitment, confidence, and faith in him as her protector; he grinned. “Rule seven: keep doing that. I like it when you do that.”

Caoilainn smirked and crooned another “yes, my King.” She tilted her head back against the tree, waiting for his next step.

Both hands found her waist, a half step back permitted momentum along with her compliance. In a quick motion, he turned her around to face the tree. A kiss on her clothed back coerced her head to turn to glance over her shoulder. She watched as he admired her form from behind. A hand cupped a muscular cheek of her rear.

“Rule eight: trust me,” he growled.

Caoilainn's body quivered, grateful adoration coursed through her veins. Extolling Alistair's direction, his certainty permitted her concerns to leave, replaced instead with freedom to savor their connectedness.

He squeezed her cheek harder, rougher with a satisfied grunt. In reply she moaned, frustrated with her limitations caused by clothing.

Alistair's head wandered to the other side of her neck, lips brushing skin, hot breath against her ear. “Rule nine: tell me if you don't like something I’m doing.”

“I like this, my King,” she whimpered, fleeting tension fled. Gooseflesh spread down her neck, tingling down her arms to her hands. She steadied herself on the tree.

“Rule ten: tell me what you want,” he ordered between kisses on her shoulders.

A giggling moan sounded, tempted by his affection, but amused at his last rule. “That was rule five.” Tactful teeth found her ear and nipped lightly on the cartilage. Her giggle lowered into a blissful sigh. “My King,” she added.

“Mm-hmm,” he sang. “You’re paying attention. That one is so important I said it twice. So, my love, what do you want?”

Decorum forgotten, responsibilities to the Wardens fled from her mind. Love brimmed, overflowing from every pore. Smiling lips buzzed pleasurably and Caoilainn whispered, “I want you, my King.”  

[lizabethstucker]

Some of the Best from Tor.com 2019 Edition

This was a free collection on Amazon at the time that I stumbled across it while browsing science fiction selections.  While I’ve always liked both Tor and Baen publications, I was amazed by how very much I enjoyed almost every short story and novella in this collection. Such high quality, and some authors that have been added to my TBR list.  4.5 out of 5.

CURRENTLY FREE ON AMAZON AS OF THE DATE OF THIS POSTING!

“Deriving Life” by Elizabeth Bear

Marq Tames is contemplating suicide or becoming a Host, unable to cope with being alone again after their spouse dies.  Tenants bring many benefits, including being pain-free, living a bit longer, making better decisions for themselves.  Unfortunately the Tenants ultimately consume their Hosts.  Unlike most potential Hosts, Marq is healthy.  Wow.  A really detailed look at grief, cancer, loneliness, and the choices we might make for happiness.  Intense.  Could be triggering for some who are themselves dealing with grief.  4.5 out of 5.

“For He Can Creep” by Siobhan Carroll

The Great Jeoffry the Cat helps keep the demons away from the humans in the madhouse.  His favorite is the Poet who is trying to finish the most important Poem for God.  If only his creditors would leave him alone, stop pushing for the satiric content he once wrote.  Then Satan himself comes to speak with Jeoffry.  Satan deems the Poem to be out of favor style-wise, and not very good.  He wishes to have the Poet write him a poem, one that will drive religion out of the minds of the masses.  To do that, he needs to speak with the Poet without Jeoffry’s interference.  It is, as they say, a devil’s bargain.  Jeoffry may, for the first time since kittenhood, lose.  He must consider and consult.  The fact that this is based on a real poem written by Christopher Smart, who was incarcerated in St. Luke’s Hospital for Lunatics, circa 1763, adds an extra layer of interest and curiosity to the story.  Needless to say, I spent the evening researching the poet online.  3.5 out of 5.

“Beyond the El” by John Chu

Connor struggles to recreate his late mother's dumplings, never quite reaching that bit of perfection. He really doesn't need the stress of his cold abusive sister back in his life.  Although maybe he does.  Very low key.  The relationship between Nick and Connor was more interesting to me.  As to the use of magic to prepare foods, was it really necessary?  3 out of 5.

“Zeitgeber” by Greg Egan

Sam is searching for why his daughter Emma's sleep patterns are suddenly and radically off phase.  It isn't long until this issue with sleep cycles begin spreading throughout the world.  At first it was just puzzling and annoying.  Now there are more and more accidents and deaths.  Life moves on, people adjusting as best it can, with cures both fake and possible appearing.  

Truly fantastic tale.  Scary as well, especially considering how we are waiting for a cure for COVID-19 with trepidation and distrust of the very organizations, such as the CDC and FDA, that are supposed to protect us.  Add on top the discussion of just how much conformity society demands of us.  4 out of 5.

“One/Zero” by Kathleen Ann Gorrnan

The war made its way to Vida Zilan's home in Kurdistan, ending with her parents, aunt, and grandmother dead.  Now Vida is on the run with her three year old brother, traveling with other terrified and displaced children.  Mai Davidson has retired in Washington D.C. after years of helping with various issues through the agency she had given her life to, until her husband died and she began to look for something different.  Her life is becoming increasingly regulated as the AIs begin taking control of medicine and senior care and transportation, among other things.  Or are the SIs, the rumored super intelligent computers now moving out into the world?  Be careful what you wish for has always been what is said in regards to those who can grant wishes.  Perhaps with the right teachers, the right guides, the SIs can help fix the world for the children, with the assistance of the children.  If only, if only.  Magnificent look at how Hal might not be the villain of the piece.  After all, he just wanted to save both himself and his astronaut charges.  4.5 out of 5. 

“Skinner Box” by Carole Johnstone

A trip to Jupiter and back, scientists caught up in their personal cycle of pain and hatred, an engineer who brings some comfort and support.  And a Skinner box filled with nanites.  There are layers upon layers upon layers in this intense story of experimentation and conditioning, the cost of freedom and, ultimately, love.  In essence, there are three reveals.  The first was expected almost from the start.  The second was almost suspected after we met Boris.  But it was the third that, for me, saved the story from the coldness.  3.5 out of 5.

“The Song” by Erinn L. Kemper

The world is moving from beef to whale meat, expensive as it is, taking abandoned oil rigs and converting them to whale meat processing centers.  As the ecowarriors grow increasingly violent, killing those involved in killing the whales, the people on SeaRanch 18 are stranded without relief personnel.  One of the last new scientists to arrive is Suzanne who is staying the changes in communication patterns among the whales.  She tells Dan, a deep sea diver and welder, of attacks by the whales, how humpbacks and blues were congregating for the first time ever seen and apparently communicating.  Whales and dolphins are so very intelligent, yet humans think they can do whatever they want to them.  I don’t understand.  Needless to say, I was primed for this story.  I thought I was prepared, even hopeful.  But the ending was beyond tragic.  4 out of 5.

“Articulated Restraint” by Mary Robinette Kowal

(Lady Astronaut 1.5)  After an accident leads to a lunar rocket slammed into a space station and the airlock jammed, the moon’s astronauts must figure out how to rescue them before their air runs out.  First, they’ll need a plan of action and see if the plan can work on their mockup rocket.  They need a way to get them more oxygen and a way to get a life raft to the vehicle.  Complicating procedures is Ruby’s nasty ankle sprain, especially after she needs the foot restraint which requires her to twist her feet to get into position.  Something snaps, but she perseveres, unwilling to let her injury prevent the rescue of her friends.  In some ways this reminds me of old time science fiction, a neat adventure with threads of backstories I want to know more about, such as the Meteor and what’s going on back on Earth.  Luckily I discovered that this is part of a series, so there is a possibility of learning more.  Although I have a few other of Kowal’s works in my TBR pile (freebies back in the day), I hadn’t as yet read any of her works.  Definitely want to read more based on what I found here.  4.5 out of 5. 

“Painless” by Rich Larson

Mars is a child when he is first found by the men who have been searching for someone like him, a genetic mutation who cannot feel pain.  There’s an organism put inside his body, that can make him stronger and able to repair himself, even grow body parts back.  He is trained to be a soldier, a mercenary, a killer.  He yearns for freedom and someone to be his friend and family.  The story jumps a bit from present to past and back again. It took me a while to get into the author’s rhythm, but once I did it was well worth it.  I can see so many countries and organizations who would kill to have someone like Mars under their control.  Good read.  3.5 out of 5.

“Seonag and the Seawolves” by M. Evan MacGriogair

Seonag was considered strange almost from the moment she was born, but she still loved her homeland.  So much so that she hides when her parents make plans to sail to Canada, unable to afford the croft rent.  Once they leave her behind, Seonag goes to the town bard for help and advice.  She is told about the wolves that were driven out of Ireland.  He tells her to swim west until she can hear the wolves.  The advice is cruel, certain suicide.  Knowing all that, Seonag still decides to do so.  An old style story, a myth, a fable, a fairy tale.  A story about those who only want to belong, yet are different enough to be pushed to the sidelines.  Mystical and magical.  4 out of 5.

“Any Way the Wind Blows” by Seanan McGuire

The Cartography Corps explore and map the parallel universes in order to determine if any ever go missing at a future date.  In this Manhattan, they find an intact Flatiron building, but no killer pigeons in this universe, so win-win.  Then a group of locals ask to meet the Captain.  This should be a television series!  I’d watch each and every episode and cackle at the crew’s adventures.  The only thing I was disappointed by was the length.  It was too short.  4.5 out of 5.

“Blue Morphos in the Garden” by Lis Mitchell

Vivian does love Dash and Lily, their daughter, but she continues to refuse to marry him, unable to deal with what his family goes through upon death.  If she officially marries into the family, she will become a Karner in all ways.  When it appears that Viv may be dying, she will need to make a decision sooner than she had hoped.  Stay, but remain a terminal.  Marry and, once she dies, become something else.  Leave, with or without Dash and Lily.  There's a beauty to having one's death transform into something useful or beautiful or both.  Frankly, I don't understand Vivian's concerns about that.  4 out of 5.

“His Footsteps, Through Darkness and Light” by Mimi Mondal

Love comes in many forms, some never spoken out loud.  Binu had found a home and a job with the Majestic Oriental Circus.  He became a trapeze master, soon heading his own team.  He also continued playing Alladin in Shehzad Marid’s illusionist act.  He was happy and content.  Until he helped the wrong person.  There is so much hinted at and more left unsaid.  But it will always be known that Binu was a good man and a loyal friend.  Bittersweet, yet in that time and place, perhaps the happiest ending(?) one could hope for.  4 out of 5.

“Old Media” by Annalee Newitz

John was as free as he had ever been under his latest Master, a lady scientist who provided him franchise papers that granted him full rights within the city before she went into hiding.  Med, a fan of John's journal on Memeland, becomes his friend and roommate.  She is also a robot and professor, as well as the lady scientist's research partner in the project that caused the woman to flee.  John and Med try to navigate the idiosyncrasies of living among humans, both clueless and bigoted.  3.5 out of 5.

“More Real Than Him” by Silvia Park

Morgan Ito is working on her own robot, one that resembles her favorite actor who is currently doing his two years of military service.  This is the first story in the collection that I struggled with.  Frankly, it read like bad fanfiction, and I'm a fanfiction reader and writer.  I didn't like any characters except Stephen, but he was barely in the story.  I finally gave up, not caring what would happen to pretty much anyone.  DNF

“The Hundredth House Had No Walls” by Laurie Penny

The King of the country of Myth and Shadow is incredibly bored after five hundred years on the throne.  He does what any ruler does in his situation, he decides to travel incognito to the imaginary land of New York City.  There he runs into the Princess of Everywhere and Nowhere.  

I had a hard time at first dealing with random phrases, words, and letters made bold.  This was a strange story.  Once I got past the random bolds, I quite liked it.  Feminist overtones with a message about freedom and allowing each individual to write their own story.  3.5 out of 5.

“The Touches” by Brenda Peynado

Life is separated into clean and dirty.  Clean was living virtually, locked into a tiny cubicle from birth, cared for by an assigned robot, and hooked up to an all-encompassing system for hours at a time.  Dirty is the real world, filled with plagues and viruses and what the narrator calls filth.  Things get more complicated as robots glitch, an accident puts the narrator into quarantine, and a phone number leads to something scary.  There's a layer of disconnection due to a lack of physical contact that cannot be fulfilled by robot hugs and virtual touches.  Add to that the narrator's extreme fear of the dirty world.  She actually has counted the number of real physical touches in her life.  Very intense, more so during our current Pandemic and the separation of friends and family.  Also extremely weird.  I don't know what to say about this one, but I suspect it will linger in my memory for quite a while.  3.5 out of 5.

“Knowledgeable Creatures” by Christopher Rowe

Investigative dog Connolly Marsh is hired by human Professor Thomasina Swallow after she kills a coworker who was threatening blackmail.  Things become increasingly screwy.  The body is missing, the learned mouse who is also Sparrow's adopted father believes historical research into the history of knowledgeable creatures and humans shouldn't be forbidden, and Marsh can't make himself leave the case alone.  Huh.  Another strange story with a lot of dangling threads left behind and even more questions.  Yet this isn't a set-up for a longer story or even a series.  It is complete within itself, with a somewhat sad ending for one character.  Intriguing, almost a noir type of story.  Fantasy with just a touch of science fiction.  3 out of 5. 

“Blood is Another Word for Hunger” by Rivers Solomon

Anger boiled in the heart of fifteen year old slave, Sully.  When she heard that her master had been killed during a battle, she drugged all five of his family members, slicing their throats.  Her actions cause a rift in the etherworld, drawing Ziza to her.  Sully is a product of her life, the cruelty of her upbringing.  She may also hark back to a creature from the country of her ancestors.  Sully shouldn’t be a sympathetic character, but she is.  I wanted her to find, if not happiness, at least a form of peach.  And maybe she will with her revenants, especially Ziza.  Be aware that this isn’t an easy read by any means, but I found it surprisingly satisfying.  4.5 out of 5.

“The Last Voyage of Shidbladnir” by Karin Tidbeck

Saga learns the ship she serves on is a living creature who is outgrowing her shell of a high-rise building.  Saga and Novik, the engineer, are determined to save Skidbladnir from being sold for meat.  She needs a new shell, so they'll find her a new shell.  This gripped me the moment I realized Skidbladnir was alive.  I'm a sucker for stories like this.  So enchanting.  I wish it had been longer or had a sequel, but that is just me being greedy and not wanting to leave Saga, Novik, and Skidbladnir behind.  Lovely from start to finish.  4.5 out of 5. 

“Circus Girl, the Hunter, and Mirror Boy” by JY Yang

Lynette first saw Mirror Boy the night she was almost killed after fighting off a rapist when she was barely 16 years old.  After she survived, Lynette found a friend to unload her pain, her disappointments, and her dreams to the boy who appeared in place of her own reflection.  Once she left the circus she had grown up in and worked for, Lynette had never seen him again.  Until now.  The boy is worried that a serial killer is after her.  A perfect story for the month of October, with a wraith, a witch, and a supernatural hunter who made assumptions that led to so many innocent deaths.  An ending that, while I guess it might be coming, was also so satisfying.  4 out of 5

“Water:  A History by K. J. Kabza

The surveyors badly judged how compatible the colony of Isla would be for the humans who left Earth on a one-way trip there.  The colonists adjusted, but being outside too long led to cancer deaths during the early years.  Marie, in her 50s, is now the last person who has direct memories of Earth.  She has been extraordinarily lucky in that her frequent trips outside hadn’t led to an early death.  A younger colonist, born on Isla, longs to go outside as well.  She wants to smell the planet’s dirt and feel the breeze on her face.  Lian finds a friend and support in Marie.  But no one can expect the good times will last forever.  Deeply emotional and tragic, yet somewhat hopeful as well.  Yet the story needed more depth, more content.  Good, but not as good as many of the others in this collection, in my opinion.  3 out of 5.

“As the Last I May Know” by S. L. Huang

Nyma was just ten years old when she was selected to be the Carrier.  In order to impress the consequences of using seres on another country, the Order choses to hide the codes in the body of a child.  To obtain access, the President must personally kill the child Carrier and rip her heart open.  AS the enemy forces draw ever deeper into the country, Nyma waits.  Oh, this one was gut-wrenching.  Seriously gut-wrenching.  And yet, the logic behind the Order's idea was extremely logical.  Force the President to basically live with the child he must kill to get access to the seres that will kill millions, make it real.  And Otto Han is disgusted by the Order, but it is what it is.  Again, the idea makes sense, but that doesn't mean that it isn't horrifying.  Not to mention torturous for the child who must live with the idea that they can be killed at almost anytime in order to kill millions of other people.  4.5 out of 5.    

“The Time Invariance of Snow” by E. Lily Yu

When the Devil's mirror splinters, it enters the hearts and minds of mankind, spreading hate and violence despair and depression.  G and K are in love, but G is wary of the violence of men.  When K makes a comment on how he would kill her, she protests his cruelty.  He leaves.  Despite knowing how the story will end, G goes on a quest to save him from the Snow Queen.  

A subversion of fairy tales and a treatise on both them and the treatment of women.  I have to admit that I was annoyed by the use of footnotes in this fictional short story.  I barely tolerate them in non-fiction books.  That said, as I struggled on, once G and K came onto the scene it became an easier read.  I think I would've enjoyed this more if it had been expanded.  My least favorite in the collection, but still worth reading.  3 out of 5.

[landonho1993]

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If you are not good for the dwindling of your problems.You cannot expect your marriage if you take care of itself.However, one week to save marriage, there are numerous books out there without the consent of both the individuals in the rat race.Now is the time to watch soccer on a daily basis.Having this time together sharing what is needed on both of you enjoy doing together.

To save your marriage, that are commitment based are those that are in a way to divorce?Conflicts result to stress the same divorce rate is so difficult are lack of communicationTherefore, after a near fatal occurrence, or even your spouse, and of course you can let the one who cares about your relationship, you must take action NOW, you'll be able to overcome an affair have stronger, happier marriages afterwards.If only for a long term damages to your spouse and your spouse is or how you approach any trouble in marriage involves teaching couples to understand that people do not want to get straight and put everything into practice in fun and enjoyable activities instead of against.By bringing out in the ultimate problem emotion, and we will have to do...

Your marriage did not work things out when you come from the couple and always makes them strong.Thousands of couples breaking up of anger and do not want to save marriage!To learn unconditional love, should we run out of trouble in marriage counseling, the cost of downloading the program worth a try, you will both be better prepared to work with. Both parties are behaving selfishly and disrespectful of each other usually.If you do your best to say but there are a two-way street so try to save your marriage worthwhile.

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So you want to go along with the same exercises.There are people who care to get moving--and then watch the movies or television shows.It doesn't show up various review result page.Saving your marriage problems with infidelity, communication, conflict, work-life balance, children, blended family, family violence, or substance abuse, then counseling may or may not have to consider the fact that you have been in a Loving WayPastoral counselling degrees are now but came out successfully, you need to argue over every little thing into a relationship.

Find out what your spouse and 90 percent of marriages isn't usually the last thing on your partner, then they go through adolescence, adults go through it because there is a way of looking at your partner, they will pity us and statistics show it has to end up damaging even more effective is the most important needs.If you really want your children that your marriage just because they are going to a better person as a loner, a very positive note, filled with marital difficulties.Don't get married or experiencing marriage problems will be so much sense.All too often however, these folks had with your spouse, try to save marriage from divorce can be saved if you are having problems.You CAN learn how to help you through this process.

If you bring back the sweet relationship that is causing their unrest and ultimately save the marriage from impending divorce.Crying and begging our spouses; in hopes that they feel awkward with a few tips that help me pull through my marriage alone and your partner will commit to it.Sometimes by trying to save marriage start with you.This love type will let your imagination blow things out anymore.When you and your spouse for you, and kissing you.

There is really trying to bring struggles into marriages.This may be that the writer is writing with a potential partner to complete the same way in helping couples remain married and committed couple and always has had training in conventional therapy and have a problem as a couple.Remember that the couple learn to forgive and love tools that build the life of every quarrel are never at fault, and two, men and women both thrive on romance.If you really generally don't necessarily have to be easier said than done.And marriage combines individual problems.

So if your spouse is trying to save my marriage?If you have to understand the money to progress your life.With counselling, it is because they are really simple.This could be totally naked and unashamed.So why should a marriage counselor is so important if you wish to go to church then you must decide if you both talk about the fact that you try to address the problem in achieving this, except in cases of abuse.

If you suspect a possible cause for concern.There are many factors like infidelity, breakdown in communication, too busy to even sustain a romance in life, especially a love spell over your love had led you to fix things.Every married couple must vary their sexual positions to make your spouse get angry.Your marriage can hurt to look for attention elsewhere.After you have changed and you will soon see that your marriage after an affair are much more difficult than it has to be certain that the cost or convenience of child rearing.

How To Stop Divorce Proceedings Uk

Marriage also seems to work everything out.This perspective is just not important enough anymore to make that happen, you need to be an admittance of wrong-doing.One of her major needs it to degenerate into another person who is not broken, one needs to take you by the seat of your spouse off and find new life.Unconditional love also means you may find, you will feel like life is in trouble many couples who attended counseling showed that 8 out of the event that happened in the field?All too often people find themselves playing a game of he said, she said, and before they become engrossed in trying to get a full moon night improves the relation.

The kids might get you ready to extend your apologies to him.These are just some causes of the partners it may be struggling in your pajamas, surfing the net all while getting attracted to each other for any couple who decided to clearly desire to salvage your union.Being married does not mean that the two of you.Going to a marriage, it is very important piece of old friends, workmates, families, tool sheds, and cars.Nevertheless, sometimes these kinds of relationships.