#let me savor the day and have the time and freedom to be impulsive every now and then skdjfhgjdsf

[miodiodavinci]

sniffling and whimpering as i rewrite the response to this prompt for the third time, this time taking time to Actually write down all the points i want to cover first in detail instead of kind of just winging it because my brain is intense agony over all this and wants to be done as soon as possible

[uwua3]

golden boy.

🌸🌷 sakuma sakuya

summary: summer was sakuma sakuya—forever your golden boy

warnings: angst, flings, ocean, summer romance, unrequited/temporary love

author’s note: please help i am going through sakuya brainrot because of a certain someone (you know who you are) who spammed me with lucifer! sakuya !! in order to prevent it, here’s a self indulgent angst one shot about summer fling! sakuya ₍ᐢ ›̥̥̥ ༝ ‹̥̥̥ ᐢ₎ (why is my automatic response to write angst that Hurts My #Feelings,,, okay???)

below are multiple quotes about summer that made me think of golden boy sakuya himself! :D

word count: 1,913

music: animal crossing – shawn wasabi, sophia black

“All in all, it was a never to be forgotten summer — one of those summers which come seldom into any life, but leave a rich heritage of beautiful memories in their going — one of those summers which, in a fortunate combination of delightful weather, delightful friends and delightful doing, come as near to perfection as anything can come in this world.” — L.M. Montgomery, Anne’s House of Dreams

There’s something about summer—it’s more a feeling than a season, isn’t it?

At least, that’s how you felt about Sakuma Sakuya. Golden boy himself who instantly warmed your skin with a slight touch, the god of sunlight who lived in a world where it was always June. That was who Sakuya was to you: a fleeting, sickly sweetness that left too quickly. Anything was possible during summer, where the days overlapped one another and stretched into infinity. That was your only time with Sakuya.

“How are you, my golden boy?” You murmured lazily upon the balcony, sweat slick against your forehead and it felt like you were in the deep end of a pool. Barely breathing with this humidity, suffocating on an empty promise that only held true in the last few summer months. Regardless of the suddenness from your absoluely perfect nickname for him, you could hear Sakuya’s genuine, light laugh from beside you.

“Couldn’t be better.” Sakuya whispered back, as if he couldn’t dare break the hazy daydream keeping you two together. He only bumped his elbow into yours, it reminded you how little you needed to move to make him yours. You could only imagine how gorgeous he must’ve been with a blush across his sunset–lit face, so you reached your hand out to take his. It was shaking slightly, but Sakuya squeezed back anyways with a light press of a kiss to your knuckles. His lips must’ve tasted of ripe strawberries and juicy watermelon, which you would confirm soon with a smile.

With the smell of celebration in the air, the indescribable setting of idleness meeting hopeless dreams, and a fling only the sun would bear witness too, you were certain of one thing and one thing only. Summer was Sakuma Sakuya—forever your golden boy.

“Summertime is always the best of what might be” — Charles Bowden

Life was beginning again all because your golden boy, and you could slowly forget who you were before this summer. Until, it stayed, reminding you of how soon this would all end like the noisy cicadas. Just like a warning, that summertime could not last forever even with the son of the sun himself.

That evening, the ocean spoke in tongues you couldn’t understand, curling around your bare ankles with the guidance of the full moon. Unprecendented mysteries beneath the waves, nothingness that cost lives to be discovered, and secrets taken to the grave were just beyond your reach. All past your fingertips brushing against the salty water as it retreated into the depths of the unknown. Sand molded around your feet seemed to take you in deeper and deeper, willing you to stay in this summer bliss forever.

But, it was June. A day of hanging by the beachside in perfect weather, a blue sky above with no clouds, and savoring the time you two had together made for memories you’ll never forget. Perhaps it was how that seashell you kept in your hand matched his eyes, or how it felt in the moment to go underwater with him hand in hand, but you sighed softly into another sunset. Summer went too soon, and like a fool, you wished for more time.

Feeling a gentle lingering touch against your shoulder, his hand rested upon your skin, unaware of how you burned guiltily from his summer love. Sakuya sat down as well, taking a second to appreciate the quiet intimacy you both shared. The sun was setting during golden hour, the ocean was painted in a dreamy shade of purple pastels, and more pretty souvenirs of sea glass surrounded you. It was perfect—he was perfect.

“We should head back home.” You slowly said after a while, to which Sakuya hummed something akin to disagreement before resting his head against your shoulder. You subconsciously wrapped your arm around him, delicately toying with the salt–dried strands of his hair at the nape of his neck. Sakuya wanted this feeling to last for the rest of his life: romance bursting alive like the world when it was summer, hot and fiery, everything it was meant to be.

“Stay with me.” Sakuya turned his head to mumble in the space of your neck, his warm breath ghosting over your collarbones. You knew his words had a double meaning, that spending the night was just a small part of what Sakuya really desired. Ever the hopeless romantic, Sakuya dreamt of a year–round, committed relationship with his fated soulmate. But, you weren’t his for a lifetime, just this summer.

So you ignored his demand and instead replaced the dwindling newfound freedom of responsibility with a temporary love, standing up and putting your hand out. You both knew what your answer meant deep down inside, and Sakuya should’ve ran away, but he gently took your hand anyways. Walking away from where the waves met the shore, you two headed to your place in the humid summer heat, laughing and smiling like you two weren’t mortals on borrowed time.

When you kissed your golden boy made of sweet nothings, temporary fixes, and momentary love that night, you saw summer and only summer.

“You are so much sunshine in every square inch.” — Walt Whitman

Sakuma Sakuya—to you, perhaps those were the two most beautiful words in the Japanese language. Whenever you said his name, it tasted like sticky, melted ice cream and a wave of happiness embraced you like a sunny afternoon. His existence itself was a simple joy, one you could never have enough of; he came near the definition of perfection in this imperfect world.

It was... easy, being with Sakuya. You liked it—the frequent, meaningful displays of affection that held all the love in the world, the light shimmer of dreaminess that came with his thoughtful, gentle words, the impulsive willingness to do anything and everything for acceptance in return. You knew Sakuya loved this (you) to an unhealthy, unexpected level, that he woke up and jumped out of bed to see you and wished on every dandelion to sleep in your arms. It was the romance of it all, the possibility that your chance encounter was a product of destiny. He often sleepily giggled about soulmates, and when he gave you that innocent look under the stars, you didn’t have the heart to disagree.

Tonight was one of those nights. The sheets messily tangled around your bodies, clothes from this busy morning wrinkled from wearing them all day. His shirt was too big, and his baseball cap was still on your head; it was so mismatched but somehow, it worked out. The puzzle pieces fit despite the oddness of it all, and you liked his intricacies. The comforter was thrown on the floor at this point, the windows were open with a light breeze swaying the translucent white curtains. The moon glowed from up above with the constellations watching your summer romance painfully fizz out like a firecracker.

Sakuya was playing with your fingers, his hands delicately holding yours as he rambled about anything that made his day. You diligently listened, savoring every word that escaped his lips as you laid on your side. July was beautiful on him, even though he was a creation of spring. His half–lidded eyes sparkled despite yawning, and when he looked into yours, he grinned and moved in closer. Sakuya slowly held your hand tighter, curling up in bed to face you. He rested your joined hands between you two, watching and admiring your ethereal shine.

You knew what he wanted to say so desperately, the three words that would change everything. Before Sakuya could start, you pulled him into a tight hug and closed your eyes, mumbling a, “Good night, golden boy”. He ran his fingers through your hair, sighing contently as you two dozed off to greet a new summer dawn.

This was Sakuya’s first ever taste of love, and boy was it sweet. But, for you, this was just another pastime you knew would go too soon.

“Summer romances end for all kinds of reasons. But when all is said and done, they have one thing in common: They are shooting stars-a spectacular moment of light in the heavens, a fleeting glimpse of eternity. And in a flash, they’re gone.” — Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook

Sakuya was forever curious, innocently naive about anything that slightly piqued his interest. So, when he asked a question on an everchanging summer’s night, you realized it was August.

“What are we?”

You inhaled the nostalgia brimming in the festival atmostphere, the crowds apart of a distant background that couldn’t hide you from the inevitable. Sakuya looked so, so pretty in his newest yukata, the cherry blossom design highlighting his bright hair and eyes underneath the glow of the paper lanterns. But, his face was uncertain as he glanced upon your expression to find some idealistic truth. You didn’t let it show, just cast your gaze against the night sky, waiting for the annual fireworks show upon a grassy picnic blanket.

It was something you could tell Sakuya wanted an answer to for a long, long time. Maybe before the start of summer even, when catching one another’s eye lasted too long, or when you’d always find yourself in his room a little too late. It was a response you wish you could bottle up and throw into the ocean, watch it sail away into the abyss with no remaining evidence of its impact. But, you couldn’t do that. It was nearing the end of summer, and you knew this would be one of the last times you could see Sakuya was more than a friend.

“We’re...” You started before a firework exploded above. The surrounding groups reacted with awe, staring at the vibrant night lights with buzzing excitement. Even Sakuya fell victim to the firework’s spell, his big eyes reflecting the sparks with a starstruck smile. You couldn’t bring yourself to continue, instead swallowing the rejection and sneaking glances at his side profile. He looked so happy, so distracted, you couldn’t remind him summer was over along with the fireworks.

When Sakuya turned his head towards you, a wavering, scared smile graced his lips. He spoke, but the fireworks cut him off. Sakuya’s face was illuminated by neon shades of the rainbow, as festival goers cheered for an encore. You knew he said those three little words that meant everything to him, so boldly and proudly like it would change your relationship with him.

You attempted to blink away the tears, but Sakuya worriedly cupped your cheek, using his thumb to brush away the singular tear that trailed down your face. Before he could ask what was wrong, you placed your hand over his with a sad, sad smile.

“I’ll miss you, golden boy.” You weren’t overshadowed by the fireworks this time, and Sakuya smiled, too, despite the tears. He suddenly understood what you meant, and repeated himself.

“I love you, I’ll always love you beyond summer.”

Summer was Sakuma Sakuya—but, he was no longer your golden boy.

[nozomijoestar]

I kinda burned myself out with how hard I focused on these two months ago that it took this long to pick up again. I had an impulse to see them stargaze and then of course it turned into making myself cry ahaha

Once again they’re on the road because I couldn’t think of a better setting but that’s not important; its about the feelings

Trish inspected her nails with the eye of a professional. Night sky or no, nothing, nothing, interrupted her beauty checks. The moon had risen to its peak; the light confirmed her suspicion. She sighed. Her colored polish had degraded from smooth to a ragged patchwork. Oh well, there were worse things to worry about. She looked toward the road behind her. Empty. For some reason her stomach sank. All at once her body tensed to hold itself for danger that took its time. That was the worst kind. Your mind split from your control at the worry the enemy instilled on their own pace. They didn't need to always attack, wait long enough and she'd do it to herself. Trish swallowed hard and breathed out. The night insects kept singing. A few paces ahead Mista lost himself in stretches as he should; his insistence to 'Get off his ass a bit' had dragged them out to Nowheresville, population pending. Buccellati and the rest had gathered around their car. Abbaccio crouched studying Coco Jumbo; which meant poking and prodding and holding the turtle while its legs flailed. She sighed. At least this time she was outside the poor thing. Trish squinted at them through the darkness. Narancia was missing. Of course he was. If you stopped a road trip for so much as a yawn, he'd disappear no doubt slacking off till he wandered back. It was a rule; it was as natural as the wind. Trish wondered how the boy hadn't been born a cat. He had the fickleness down already; time to find him anyway. That was another of nature's laws. He got lost sure, but no matter how she grumbled there she went guiding him back. The grass reached her knees and clung like dozens of pushing hands. Not a tree stood for kilometers; at this distance the moon grew overwhelming. Narancia lay on the grass that'd molded around his body as if it were his bed. His head rested on his crossed arms; Trish would never understand how he did it. How could one person embody freedom? How did he do it when his heart roared in a storm he'd bound emotions to years ago? She should know by now unraveling all of him was no better than holding the breeze. Trish knew he heard her coming. It was the walk he liked to say. Easy as breathing her feet fell into a rich girl's stride. Confident, precise, expectant- Trish wished those were still things she knew instead of their shells. She took a deep breath. No time for that now. Narancia turned his head as she sat. The feel of his eyes made her heart pound for something not worrisome. God, he still didn't know whenever he did that. It was annoying at how easy, it was grounding in a world where up was down and down up. He had her smiling, smiling! And it felt liberating. "There's a bunch of 'em out tonight. You got a favorite?" She looked up and awe drowned the remainders of her gloom. Stars beyond counting dotted the sky; each speck burned to outdo the others. On a clear night they went on and on stretched beyond the horizon. Her eyes snapped to one set with ease. "Orion." "Huh?" "The constellation. Haven't you heard of it?" "Uh, well not really...wasn't around class long enough for that." His eyes flit anywhere but her face; his voice had trailed into something meek. Trish held back a 'Damnnit of course not.' to put her chin on her knees. You didn't ask stuff like that to people who never got past third grade. "Well it's ok Narancia, I'll just teach you a little. That alright?" He sat up to give her his full attention. A grin on his face told her everything was fine. God at this point Trish could do just about anything to him and he'd accommodate; follow and roll over like some dog for her. The realization of power made her queasy not for the first time. That was part of knowing him, being with him. At least for now. She smiled back. "Ok then go on and look at the sky. It always looks like a bunch of stuff smashed together at first. That's where the fun starts. The harder you look eventually you'll find what feels like it's going against the flow; like its part of something all its own." "Hmm...I guess. Geez people must have some killer eyes and nothin' to do all day- y'know, to do this right!" He added the last bit before her frown had settled. With an awkward laugh he mussed his hair. "Alright alright, so I look for the ones that stand out. That's easy. Aerosmith!-" "No Stands. By yourself sure but not with me ok?" "Huh? Why's that- oh..." Trish scooted closer to wrap her arms around his. She rested her head on his shoulder and grinned when he swallowed in awe. A blush colored his face. "Keep going." "Okay. So let's see uhh...there! That one is like a tiny sun. And there's smaller ones that look like they're followin' it an'...a triangle, I think." "That's Sirius, one half of the dog constellations. It's super bright I'm not surprised you found it first." Trish said with a chuckle. "Hey a minute ago I didn't know any of 'em. It ain't bad for a first try." "Liar I did mention Orion." "Oh yeah. Well s'not like I actually saw it. What makes you like that one? Is it cool?" She stared at him in way of open affection no words could capture. It was honesty; it was pure to at last be under a gaze that wouldn't vanish. He could hear her sure, but goddamn if his mind wasn't half lost in savoring what it felt to mean something. To be someone. He tucked a loose hair behind her ear; Trish kept right on though now she smiled again. "A lot of people like Orion since most think its in the shape of a hunter. Y'know, strong and reliable and protective. Things a lot of people want to be; at least to me anyway. I'm not all that different." She again gazed at the sky yet now in the moonlight her profile took on a serene determination. He knew then that he'd be one of the handful in a lifetime to see it. Narancia couldn't help his stillness; the urge that came from somewhere he didn't know to feel humbled. She continued as though she noticed nothing. There was passion in her voice no matter how casual her words. "When I find it at night or even in pictures, mom comes back. Just for a moment, just long enough for me to start crying. I see her in my head and I remember and it's like...like I'm watching my past while I hold my breath then- then it's gone before I can really understand it. The one thing to stay is feeling for a second as if none of this ever happened. As if I'm still back home and she's cooking before calling for me to help. It's...it's so safe." Tears had fallen as she uttered the final words; her tone drifted far, far away and he knew she'd stopped talking to him. Silently Narancia hugged her and welcomed his own, gentler cry. A minute passed where only the wind spoke as it brushed the grass. He could swear her heart raced and skirted danger. When he breathed deep however, it could've well been him. As with many things Trish took the lead and broke the quiet. "I wish I could be Orion. I wish my mom would give it a rest already." Her voice still hadn't recovered its confidence. She leaned into him in search of grasping it once more. "Trish...you are. That time on the plane to Sardegna, you were by yourself and you still got us outta there. I don't wanna think about getting thrown into that meat thing's mouth. A-and I don't have to thanks to you!" Their eyes met this time with an intensity neither could name. Trish shook her head while she rubbed his hand; the roughness that marked his body hadn't pierced who he really was, that kindness he breathed readier than air. Not for the gang alone did he slip into it. For them it was short sighs between the snarls when attitudes clashed. It was like he feared to release it always, to embrace it. But not for her, for her he never hesitated. That was the boy she loved most. He kept chatting and slurred his words as they fought to arrange themselves. She realized how much he noticed in ways she'd been too occupied to see. All the same she interrupted him with a finger on his lips. Trish brushed aside his bangs and spoke again of those things he alone had permission for. "Every time I think I'm getting closer to who I can be, I slide a few steps back. That's all." He wouldn't understand in a way he could yet articulate. She'd long come to accept that. The energy to his eyes took the place of fancy descriptions. He knew it too; it sat as the deepest pain beneath everything. People were participants on life's slippery slope until one day you died. She guessed, in the end, what mattered was which step you'd left on. Forward, or backward? Maybe her mother had stopped on backwards. Maybe she too would. Maybe instead as she studied his face and felt his life beside hers, maybe she wouldn't. And just maybe she could keep him from falling too. "Narancia, kiss me." He did softly and filled with unspoken things. In the now he was here and so was she. She was being silly; this moment was all that mattered. The echoes of shouting in the distance broke them apart. The calls of their names from the others pulled her back to reality. They were on a mission; their lives were fleeting and perishable. It churned her stomach and she reached to embrace Narancia one more time. He was warm despite the night chill. Her fingers dug into his hair as she whispered. "You're safe too." "I...same here Trish." He squeezed her afraid to let go but soon did so anyway. They helped each other stand and refused to let their hands separate. Together they ran towards their friends and answered their calls. They moved forward, ever forward.

[emma-nation]

In My Veins (KamilahxMC) - Season 2 - Chapter 12 - *Ending*

Summary: Inspired by Lovestruck’s “Havenfall is For Lovers” (Antonio). Amy seems to finally have solved her feelings for Kamilah, but when somebody from her past returns, their relationship will be put to test.

Genre: Romance, Angst

Rating: T

Notes:

- NSFW warning. I decided to base their first vampire sex more on Havenfall’s scene rather than on Bloodbound’s. I thought it felt more realistic as MC was just starting to explore her new senses.

- I miss the Council Of New York. #RheyaNotMyLeader

- There will be a third part to this fic soon, after I conclude Within You.

- Sorry for taking so long. Life went from Heaven to Hell in only one week.

KamilahxMC Tag List: @iam-the-fuckin-queen​, @annabellewerecorgi​, @voltos9, @scorpistraub​, @leavemeandmyshipsalone​, @jen825​, @andreear17​, @spacecarrousel​, @justejuste727​, @aureliaxj, @graceschoices​, @sleeping-with-her06, @supersphynxsworld​, @gavryllo, @galaxyside-0, @msuhailey, @zoe6111, @noodledragon22​, @tigerbryn11, @shanuuh, @ilovetaylor13m, @honorablebicycle, @ilovekamilahsayeed, @allaboutchoices, @fal-carrington, @scarlet-letter-a0114

“I love you,” Kamilah bit her own wrist, letting a considerable amount of blood flow inside Amy’s mouth. She needed to be sure it was more than enough to bring her back to life. “You will be okay, Amy… you’ll be okay, I promise you.”

She pressed her lips to Amy’s cold forehead, then carefully removed the sword from the girl’s chest. As Kamilah observed the wound was progressively healing, she was placed inside the sarcophagus and taken to the basement. The less space Amy had, and the less contact she had with any sources of light, more were the chances her Turning would be successful.

Kamilah sat down and waited. She couldn’t think about anything. Her mind, as well as her body, was completely paralyzed and unable to process all the events she went through that night. Gaius was dead. For good. She had finally earned her freedom.

But so was Amy. Her Amy was also dead.

And sitting on an old wooden chair in the basement, six hours passed without her noticing. The watch on her wrist beeping announced it was time to open the sarcophagus. She pushed the lid open, ready to contain the first impulse of violence Amy would have when she first woke up as a vampire. But it didn’t happen. She was still lying unconscious, pale and cold. In the exact position Kamilah had placed her hours before.

Maybe in the middle of her stress she had miscalculated the time. She closed the sarcophagus again and decided to wait a little longer. She walked to the kitchen and opened a bottle of wine she found inside a cabinet, serving herself. Exhaustion was taking over her body but she didn’t want to sleep there, in the living room. She didn’t want to look at that horrid tree that Gaius had became. For some reason, she still could feel his presence inside it, watching her and desiring revenge.

Suiting herself at Adrian’s bedroom, Kamilah didn’t know how long she slept for, probably hours. Or even a whole day. When she woke up, her heart was pounding fast, anxious to check on Amy.

She was still the same. She wouldn’t wake up. She was dead. Truly dead.

For the first time in centuries, she felt completely desperate. After being unable to feel happiness or love for so long, Amy managed to bring it back to her life. She was her new chance of a redemption. Of leaving behind that past of blood and horror, where she helped to spread pain and misery to mortal’s lives. When Gaius turned her into her worst self, Amy turned her into her best.

And now she was gone. Forever.

Kamilah didn’t call anyone. Her clothes, soaked by Amy’s blood along with sweat, dirty and ashes, were starting to smell terribly. She got rid of them and spent the longest time under the shower, where she allowed the warm water to get mixed with the tears streaming down her face. Where no one could hear her intense sobbing.

Then, she grabbed one of Amy’s t-shirts inside her bags. The Legend Of Zelda. One of her favorite video games. One she tried to force Kamilah to play all the time. She smiled briefly, holding it tightly against her chest, and lied on the bed again, remembering the last moments they had together.

“I hope you’ve had time enough to listen, Amy. To know I love you. That will always love you. I don’t… I don’t know how to live in a world without you.”

Time was passing. She needed to reunite her strength and return to New York. She wanted to deliver the news to the gang in person. And then, there were Amy’s parents. When Kamilah first planned to kill her for her blood, she knew exactly how she would forge a sudden, lethal disease that took her life and tell them in the most formal manner as possible. She’d pay for the funeral expenses and offer them money in support. Now she had absolutely no idea how she was supposed to do it. How she could tell a family their only child was dead? She remembered of herself, when she received the news of her twin brother’s death. And how was she even going to introduce herself? Coldly and distant, as her boss? Or affectionate and supportive, as her girlfriend?

She had a lot to think and plan during her way back. Kamilah started by taking their bags back to the back seat of her car. There was only one thing left to pick up, Amy’s sarcophagus. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, when some loud noises, coming from inside the house pulled her back to reality.

———-

Amy woke up with her heart throbbing inside her chest. Her pulse felt strangely distant, yet she could hear the rush of blood in her veins like an ocean storm. Around her, only a silent, heavy and suffocating darkness.

“What…” she tried to move, but noticed she was trapped. “Where… This can’t be happening…”

Something poked her lower lip. Using her tongue, she could feel two pointy and sharp fangs descending from her gums. And there was the hunger. Nothing was so intense as her hunger. It was burning deep in her stomach. She needed to get out of there. And most of all, she needed blood. More than anything.

She twisted her hips and started kicking hard the sarcophagus lid. It was heavy, but she felt a whole new strength growing inside her. Her capacities were endless. She punched it as stronger as she could, send it flying. Sitting down, she examined her surroundings, noticing she was somewhere familiar…

“Please don’t find me… please don’t find me…”

Amy could hear Gaius’ footsteps approaching the basement’s in Adrian’s cabin. She glanced at her side, a small window could be her way out to the forest. Getting rid of cultists would certainly be easier than getting rid of the most powerful vampire on Earth. She tried to force it open, but it was too old and rusty, being completely stuck.

She was still at Adrian’s cabin, what probably meant… the basement’s door erupted open and Kamilah streaked down the stairs.

“Amy… you…” she looked at her in complete shock for a second, then a huge smile appeared on the corners of her lips. “You’re alive.”

She couldn’t answer. At the same time she knew exactly what was going on, she didn’t really know how to react.

“I’m a…” for some reason, she couldn’t say it aloud. The word got stuck somewhere along the way.

“I had to Turn you, Amy. It was my last resort, but I didn’t hesitate to take it. It was the only way. It was either Turn you… or lose you forever.”

Flashes of her fight against Gaius appeared in her mind. The excruciating pain as he buried a sword in her chest. Indeed, it was a fatal wound. No human being would be able to survive it.

“But the Turning didn’t take,” Kamilah continued, her voice crackling. “I don’t know why. I waited all day, but you were still gone. You stayed dead for almost four days. So I… I was ready to return to New York and bury you.”

There was a moment of silence between them. Kamilah helped her to leave the sarcophagus and took her to Adrian’s bedroom, where she offered her a goblet of blood. It tasted disgusting, but at the same time the best thing Amy ever consumed in her life.

“Holy hell,” feeling restored, Amy was finally ready to say it. “I’m a vampire.”

“Such poetic first words,” Kamilah smiled and cupped her cheek.

Their eyes met. She looked completely weary, but even more gorgeous than before. Amy was completely mesmerized by the new perspective she was able to have of those beautiful brown eyes, that perfect skin and her intoxicating scent.

“Kamilah,” she first tackled her with a hug, making her moan from the impact of her new uncontrolled strength. Then, she kissed her furiously and desperate, accidentally scraping her lower lip with her new fangs. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. These things… are sharp.”

“I’m not complaining.”

Amy kissed her again, licking the blood coming out from the shallow cut on her lips. She tasted and savored that blood. The blood that brought her back to life. The blood that was now a part of her, bounding them together more than ever.

“Kamilah, I don’t wanna be your friend,” Amy caressed her arms, her chest, her stomach. Feeling every curve of her body like she had never experienced before. “Actually, god, I want you in unfriendly ways right now.”

Kamilah’s eyes went red in desire, searching for her lips again. The contact between their bodies was furious, without no more fear of hurting each other. They tore each other’s clothes apart. Kamilah’s body was hot and boiling against Amy’s.

“Are you sure?” She asked, gazing deeply into her eyes. “Being a newly Turned, it can be quite overwhelming.”

“Yes, I want you,” Amy nodded, she had the same lust for pleasure, as she had for blood. She moved her lips to Kamilah’s neck, where she traced her pulsating veins with her tongue. Her hands pinned the older vampire’s wrists to the bed. When they stopped she realized the bruises she caused from how hard she grabbed her.

"Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

“It’s fine. You’re new, it’s to be expected.”

“How did you manage to have sex with me before?” Amy asked, intrigued.

“Very carefully,” she allowed Kamilah to take control, switching positions and kissing her in a slow, soft manner. Then, her hands moved down to her breasts, massaging them firmly and greedy.

“I-I…” Amy moaned. “I want you to touch me everywhere, just like this.”

“I’m going to do a lot more than touching. Trust me, we’re only getting started.”

Kamilah’s mouth started traveling down her body, kissing, sucking and biting all the flesh she had to explore. Her fingertips digging into Amy’s hips.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting all of this…”

And so did Amy. All those months they spent separated, she’d fantasy about that moment all the time. She missed Kamilah in every possible way.

Kamilah’s mouth descended to where Amy wanted it the most, devouring her. The first contact with her tongue, sent Amy in a spiral of pleasure and she quickly climaxed as if it was the first time in her whole life. She could barely breath. It was so intense she felt she was about to pass out.

“Maybe we should stop,” Kamilah suggested.

“No.”

She allowed herself to breathe and recompose herself for a few seconds, then she was ready for more. Kamilah looked at her, getting the message. She continued to work on Amy using her mouth and fingers, driving her to the most blissful and wild experience she had in her whole life. Her body was on fire. Her heart was about to explode. Electric impulses where making her thrash and squirm in pure ecstasy. But she never felt more alive.

When Kamilah lifted herself over her again, Amy didn’t hesitate to sink her fangs into her neck, drawing some blood. She arched back a little bit from the pain.

“Am I hurting you?” Amy asked.

“No, it’s fine. You need to learn how to control yourself. Easy, easy…” she stroke the girl’s hair, helping and guiding her into finding the perfect rhythm. “Just like this. And now, you stop.“

She hesitated and Kamilah firmly pushed her away.

“Enough. You’ve had enough.”

“It’s just… you taste, smell and feel so delicious…”

“Amy,” Kamilah gripped harder on her shoulders and gazed deeply into her eyes, “stop.”

“I’m sorry,” the girl apologized, returning to her senses.

“I think we both had a lot today. We should rest a little bit, before returning to New York.”

She pulled Amy closer to her chest, where she could finally relax, listening to the sound of Kamilah’s steady heartbeats and wishing they could stay like that for the rest of their lives.

“Amy,” Kamilah broke the silence. “I cannot express how grateful I’m for having you here with me. I thought I had lost you forever. I… I love you.”

“Kamilah…” hearing those three words made Amy’s new boiling emotions erupt into tears. “I love you too.”

———-

Back in New York, Kamilah and Amy entered Raines Corporation building holding hands. The group stared at the in surprise, noticing Amy’s new vampire aura. What they could never imagine was how her Turning had taken place.

“YOU killed Gaius?!” Lily’s eyes went wide in shock, before grinning broadly. “We stan a legend!”

“I suppose I did,” Amy said. “I’m sorry, Adrian. There’s now a… Gaius’ tree in the middle of your living room.”

“What?!” Adrian was caught up by the surprise. “H-How… well, I’ll ask someone to chop it down.”

“Guys,” Jax was staring at his cell phone screen with a serious look on his face, “let’s save the celebrations for later. The cultists groups are spreading chaos around the streets of New York. With Gaius gone, they’re in search of a new Master.”

“We don’t really have a break, do we?”

“That we don’t,” Kamilah rolled her eyes, after exchanging a glance with Amy. “Before we go, there’s one last thing, you need a Brand. Amy, do you accept to be a member of Clan Sayeed?”

“There’s nothing I’d like better!” The girl exclaimed.

Adrian nodded and took both of them to his office, where some sort of tattoo machine was kept inside a secret safe on the wall. Kamilah made a cut on her own palm, filling the machine with her blood.

“Are you ready?” She asked Amy, trailing her arm’s skin, where the Brand was supposed to be marked.

“Ready,” Amy swallowed.

As Kamilah began to work, she gasped and bit down her own knuckles. The pain was amplified by her new vampire senses. But despite the pain, there’s also a strange sensation of pleasure. Kamilah was focused on her task, and for a moment her eyes met Amy’s, burning and dark, hypnotizing and deep… As she inked her own blood into the girl’s skin, she could feel the connection, the intimacy between them growing in a level she could never imagine.

Once she finished, Kamilah set the machine down and wiped the tender skin around the Brand with a damp cloth, making Amy shiver.

“Was that so bad?” “No… it was just… a lot.”

She smirked and gently squeezed Amy’s hand.

“Welcome to Clan Sayeed, Amy.”

———-

Before they left the building, the rest of the members of the Council were requested to be present. Their help was necessary to contain the cultist rebellion.

“We have no choice,” Priya snarled. “Let’s kill them all.”

“It’s not that simple,” Adrian explained. “Some of them are human.”

“Who cares about some brainwashed mortals? They’re drawing attention to us! Even the government is getting involved. Adam’s no longer around to clean up the mess, remember?”

“Yeah,” Lester agreed. “I don’t know about you, pal, but I’m not going to flee because of some masked human freaks.”

All their eyes turned to Amy, as soon as she joined them in the lobby. For a second, she felt uncomfortable.

“What is that?” The Baron narrowed his eyes and approached, like a dog sniffing for fresh meat. “Is she a vampire now?”

“Do you have a problem with that?” Amy asked, crossing her arms.

“Kamilah Turned you without permission, she violated the pact. I guess that after we get rid of the cultist scum, we’ll have to deal with you both.”

“Do not forget I saved your asses from Gaius. I killed him by myself, when even all the six of you couldn’t.”

Lester whistled from the other side of the room.

“I like ‘em tough. You definitely have my aye vote, lady.”

“That was kind of hot,” Priya grinned. “I couldn’t care less about you being a vampire. At least now I don’t have to worry about breaking you.”

“You’re outnumbered here, Baron,” Amy told. “Deal with it or… sit your punk ass down.”

The entire group broke into laughs, annoying the male vampire deeply.

“Your…"

He was about to advance in her direction. Red eyes and fangs drawn, he pointed a gun to Amy’s chest.

"Stop,” she ordered. “Just stop.”

He stood frozen in place. Like a statue. Unable to move or to proceed with his actions.

“Y-You… What the hell are you doing? Set me free!”

“I did nothing! I just…"

As Amy involuntarily jerked her hand, she sent The Baron flying away across the lobby.

"Oh my god!” She yelled. “What the…”

“S-She…” The Baron stood up, completely shocked and even a little bit scared. “She has his powers. She can control us! How’s that even possible?”

Amy searched for Kamilah’s face, expecting answers, but she was so confused as all the rest of them. The girl stared at her own hands, wondering if the Turning had triggered the powers Jameson was referring to in the dungeon.

The building door’s opened again and a large group of cultists started marching inside, kneeling in front of her.

“Our Lady,” one of the announced. “She’s finally back.”

“No!” Amy screamed. “I-I’m not Your Lady. Just stop. Go away! All of you! Leave me alone.”

And just like that, they started leaving the building one by one, until only the Council members remained, staring at her in complete surprise.

[mayquita]

Finding The Savior (1/?)

This story came to my mind a while ago, but I decided to focus on my other projects instead. This week, however, my muse had other ideas. I intend to return to this fic at some point but I can't promise anything. Still, maybe it could work like a one-shot?

@saraswans , you’re the best, thank you for everything.

A/N They made us believe that during the time of the dark curse, Cora and Hook remained frozen in the Enchanted Forest. After the Nemo episode, it turned out that it was just time that remained frozen, so I'm going to stuck with this idea.

Summary: Twenty-two years after the cast of the dark curse, Hook is tired of waiting. The moment he finds a way to escape from the Enchanted Forest, he sets a goal, to find The Savior and accelerate the process that will allow him to finally get his long-awaited revenge. Canon Divergence.

Ao3 / Ffnet 

Part 2

(This is unbeta’d so apologize in advance for all the mistakes) 

The Enchanted Forest, twenty-two years after the cast of the dark curse

The sea breeze whipped Killian's face as The Jolly Roger sailed through the water at full speed, the sails of his precious ship dancing to the rhythm marked by the wind. Sailing had always brought him a sense of freedom. Before him, the open sea, endless destinations at his disposal. He would only have to turn the wheel and they would go in search of new and unexplored territories, new adventures, new dangers that, far from intimidating him, would make the adrenaline rush through his veins with expectation.

That feeling of power given by the sea had faded away little by little. The hundreds of years trapped in Neverland had taken its toll, but the last twenty-two years trapped under an imaginary dome at the mercy of a demon disguised as a woman had managed to drain almost every last drop of his patience. Where before he saw an infinite sea now there was only an invisible and impenetrable wall that prevented him from advancing in his desire for revenge.

He was tired of waiting. The idea that his fate depended on the success of an unknown person, The Savior, was not exactly appealing. His stomach clenched in knots in frustration, an uneasiness crept over his body, preventing him from functioning properly.

Maybe for that reason, or maybe because of the overwhelming feeling of having Cora watching all his movements, always hovering around him, like a prey animal ready to jump at the slightest chance of betrayal, he decided to go sailing, hoping against hope, that, this time, he would find something, a magical item, a potion, some sorcerer, anything that would allow him to keep going and not stay stuck in this hell of Enchanted Forest.

To his amazement, his prayers were heard soon, or rather luck decided to finally give him an opportunity. Whatever the reason, he was not going to waste it. At the time he found a magic bean, he knew with complete certainty that his days under this infernal dome were numbered. It was a chance discovery, he would not remember the act as a big feat, but the result was the same. He found the bean hiding in an abandoned chest on the side of the road along with other treasures. Perhaps in another time, he would have gathered all the jewels and gold doubloons that shone in a tempting way. This time, the object that sparkled most was that little bean. The object most desired by him was now in his possession, giving him back the reins of his own destiny.

He had to suppress the urge to open a portal just at that very moment, his hand tingling due to the contact with the bean. Instead, he clenched his jaw as he curled his hand into a fist, trapping the bean inside. He tried to calm his inner anxiety, stopping his impulsiveness and keeping the mind cold. Only then could he achieve his goal. To do this, he needed Cora's help, one last push that would allow him to know all the information he needed to develop the plan that had begun to form in his mind.

This time, when he stood in front of the helm, he did it with a new determination, his steel gaze not losing sight of the horizon, all his muscles tense as his hand and hook grabbed the rudder, the magic bean well hidden in a place that only he knew, his heart thudding in his chest with anticipation.

Two days later, he walked towards Cora's chamber, carrying his passage, the object that would return him to his path of revenge, well hidden, but ready to be used immediately in case of any eventuality. Before entering, Killian took a deep breath and swallowed hard dragging down his inner turmoil.

Once in Cora's presence, he put a false grin on his lips, his features creating a mask of arrogance as he displayed his pirate swagger.

The woman studied him briefly, walking around him while commenting, "to what do I owe the honor? Are you tired of playing with that toy that you call a ship?"

Killian clenched his jaw as he bit his tongue in an attempt not to respond to the insult to his ship. Instead, he decided to bring up his ace up his sleeve. "Maybe the reason for my return is to show you a little discovery."

His nonchalant voice and tight grin seemed to get Cora's attention. She stood right in front of him without stopping her scrutiny, arms crossed over her chest. "And what would that be that might interest me?"

"Maybe there's a way to speed up the process and break the curse ahead of time." He offered, feigning a certain indifference, although his stomach tightened. It was the moment of truth, though he had already decided in advance that, whatever Cora's reaction was, he was going to throw the bloody bean, even though he had to drag her along in the process. He had set himself a challenge and there would be no one who could stop him. Not now, not after having spent years and years waiting for an opportunity like this.

Cora raised an eyebrow as she tilted her head slightly. "I'm listening."

Her penetrating gaze indicated that he had managed to capture her interest. Good. Now he had to maintain the facade only a few minutes more and soon he would be traveling to a new realm. He held her gaze for a while before releasing his proposal while keeping a calm voice. "I'm going to travel to the place where The Savior is and I'll find whoever that person is. I'm going to convince her or him to travel to that place..." He closed his eyes as he raised his hand and waved his fingers as if trying to remember the name of the place.

"Storybrooke?" Cora tentatively offered, her eyebrows went together in a gesture of confusion.

And here it was, just what he needed. A name. His stellar performance had paid off, he thought as he tried to keep his features straight, without showing any emotion. "Thank you, Storybrooke, that's it." He savored the name, knowing in advance that this was the place where the crocodile was hiding. "As I was saying, I can convince The Savior to break the curse, so you'll have your daughter and I'll skin myself a crocodile sooner than expected."

Cora narrowed her eyes, continuing to study him. "You forget that we are frozen in time and that there is no way to travel to another realm." Her condescending tone with a certain hint of malice, made his facade almost wobble. But now that he could almost touch his target with his fingertips, he was not going to lose his temper by being offended by this woman's words.

"Oh, but maybe there is a way." He waved his eyebrows, drawing his fake smile even wider.

"And what would that be?" Her voice became more demanding, even though, she tried to mask it with a false smile that matched his own.

"Why a magic bean, of course."

Cora's eyes widened in surprise. "You got one?"

"Perhaps..."

"Enough playing, Hook." She approached him, invading his personal space. "In case what you are telling me is true and you have, in fact, a magic bean, what makes you think that I would let you go alone?"

"With all due respect, milady, there's no magic to the place I'm going. I think you'll be safer here, while I do the dirty work. You know what I mean..." He winked at her, not letting himself be intimidated in the least.

Cora shook her head as she rolled her eyes up at the ceiling. "And why have not you left already? You don't need me, apparently."

He shrugged, showing indifference, though impatience began to grow inside him. Every second he spent talking to her was a lost second in his search. "I needed a name to direct The Savior, and you just gave it to me."

"You're playing with fire, pirate. You're not aware of the dangers out there." Her threatening tone continued, but a shadow of approval crossed her eyes. She had nothing to lose, after all. He was offering her the possibility of achieving her goal with little effort.

"I'm a survivor, I have lived worse, I assure you."

Then, Killian pulled the bean from its hiding place, but kept it out of Cora's reach, protecting it against a possible change of mind.

"You better focus on your mission, no distractions, otherwise I will find a way to get to you and make you regret your crazy proposal." She mumbled raising a threatening finger.

"Of course milady. Do you want me to say a word to your daughter from your part when I first see her?" His entire body trembled with anticipation, though he forced himself not to lose his composure. Not yet.

"It's not necessary." She rejected his suggestion with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I will be there at the same moment when the curse is broken." Her lips twisted into an evil smile. "And now hurry up, before I change my mind."

Without thinking twice, Killian tossed the bean onto the floor and a vortex opened instantly before them. Before letting himself be sucked into the portal, he gave Cora one last triumphant smile as he winked at her. If everything went well, he would not have to worry anymore about that demon. Then he jumped into the void while holding his breath.

He felt the suction instantly. While his whole body contorted and his sight was blinded by the intensity of the movement, his mind did not lose the marked objective. He muttered frantically “Find The Savior, find The Savior ”.

After a few seconds that seemed eternal he fell to the ground with a thud while the portal, and with it, his return passage, disappeared before his eyes. He barely had time to kneel and look around in an attempt to inspect the surroundings, when his eyes detected a giant contraption approaching him at full speed. The last thing he saw before being rolled over, was a yellow monstrosity that hit him brutally. Then everything went blank.

Boston, six years later

When Emma woke up, the morning had already announced its beginning through the rays of sunlight that filtered through the window of her bedroom. After cracking up one of her eyes, she closed it again, snuggling under the shelter of her sheets, feeling a soft warmth spread all over her body. As she was about to succumb to sleep again, a thought crossed her mind causing her to sit up with a start as her lips curled into a wide grin.

She turned her head, checking that her husband was still asleep. Maybe she should be the one receiving that kind of attention, but she didn’t hesitate to sit astride him carefully so as not to wake him up too soon. She had other plans for it that included a more pleasurable way.

She stared at his features for a moment, his long lashes stroking his cheeks, his lips parted slightly letting out a faint snore. He seemed so young in those moments, with no trace of worry, only an expression of perfect calm.  

A thought flashed through her mind, her memories traveling to those first months of their relationship, when he used to wake up in terror, drenched in sweat while mumbling nonsense after suffering one of his usual nightmares. To her relief, as their relationship settled, his nightmares became more and more sporadic to the point of disappearing almost completely.

Emma shook her head slightly, causing those thoughts to disappear and instead focused again on her goal. She leaned over him, brushing her lips against his ear as she whispered, "happy birthday to me."

Then she straightened her back, her gaze searching expectantly for his reaction. His eyes remained closed, but his lips drew a soft smile before murmuring, "indeed, happy birthday, my love."

Slightly disappointed at not being able to see his intense blue eyes yet, she insisted, tracing a path of kisses down the line of his jaw while her fingers drew delicate patterns on his bare torso. "Uhm, since today is my special day, should not I be the one receiving some unique treatment?"

Her husband chuckled softly, "let a man recover from the intense activity of the night. Or perhaps my lady was not entirely satisfied?"

Her cheeks flushed at the thought of such activities, while she still felt slightly sore in the right places. She bit her lower lip, ready to continue playing for a while longer. "I thought it was a foretaste of what was to come," she breathed on his skin, her lips a few inches from his.

"You're insatiable, woman." A low rumble escaped his lips as he opened his eyes finally, giving her that predatory look she loved so much. She could not resist it anymore, crushing her lips against his in a searing kiss.

Their moment of passion was short-lived, though. Just as their tongues began to dance together, a sound from the other side of the aisle interrupted them, breaking the spell.

"Mama? Papa?"

They both groaned in annoyance. Although their four-year-old daughter's voice still carried traces of sleep, Emma knew from previous experience that if they did not heed her call, Lizzy would run fast in search of her parents.

"It's my special day…" She mumbled against his lips as a reminder.

Her husband made a sound of disappointment as his hand squeezed his eyes. After letting out a deep sigh, he released himself from her embrace and stood up. Emma relished in the vision of his perfect naked body while he searched for his clothes scattered on the floor of their bedroom.

Before opening the door, he gave her a sparkling look full of promises, making her whole body vibrate in anticipation. "This is not over, Emma."

"I don’t doubt it for a moment, Killian."

When he disappeared in the direction of Lizzy's bedroom, she leaned back against her pillow, a contented smile remained on her lips. She had a feeling, something told her that today, the day she turned twenty-eight, would be a special and perhaps unforgettable day.

Thanks for reading :)

[easyhairstylesbest]

Cancer Monthly Horoscope

MONTH OF January

Monthly Snapshot

Ready for a little fun in ’21, Cancer? Here it comes! Your ambition’s been on fire since the second half of 2020 started, and you could have made serious headway on some key goals. Relationships have been percolating, too—and given the conditions of the world, it’s amazing how unstoppable you’ve been in the face of things.

That said…are you edging into burnout, or just ready to mix things up? This January, your social life sparks up once again. True, much of it may be virtual. But once the collaborative camaraderie starts heating up, you’ll still get the warm-fuzzy feeling of bonding with supportive and like-minded people. Join a mastermind, initiate a daily or weekly group call or hop into virtual workshops.

Another part of you will savor having more privacy because Jupiter and Saturn are spending their first full month (of a long visit) in Aquarius and your intimate eighth house. While Mars has you branching out to new connections, this cosmic duo also wants you to stock your innermost circle with power players, perhaps even teaming up for a potent business or romantic connection.

As one Cancer friend of ours sheepishly confessed, “I don’t really mind having to stay home. Is that bad?” Not to make light of the pandemic, but home IS your happy place. You love nesting and working in your comfiest clothes—at least from the waist down, where the webcams don’t pan (“business on the top, party on the bottom,” anyone?).

Speaking of webcams, you’ll want to back up your data and devices before Mercury, the planet of all things digital and communicative, turns retrograde on January 30. Since the quicksilver planet will impact some of your closest ties, you’ll want to make sure you have everything clearly spelled out between you before the end of the month.

Week 1: January 1-10

A social life reboot

Commune with your Crab crew! A nearly two-month cycle of networking and collaboration begins this week, and you couldn’t be more ready for it. Much as you love your solo time, you equally enjoy bonding with kindred spirits. And the feeling is mutual—as you could soon find yourself in high demand for every meeting or Zoom game night. Even if you can’t get together IRL with people, you can make generous use of online platforms and virtual groups to forge new connections and strengthen existing ones.

What’s causing this spike in your popularity…not to mention the strong urge to branch out beyond your usual clique? On Wednesday, January 6, go-getter Mars wraps up an extended six-month visit to Aries and your career-driven tenth house, which has kept many Cancers focused on professional goals at the expense of your personal life. Next up: Mars will pay a visit to Taurus and your teamwork sector until March 3, and the invitations will start rolling in again.

With Mars in Aries since June 27, 2020, you may have felt excess pressure around work and other responsibilities. This transit also amplified job stress—or gave you anxiety about finding or keeping a job. Long hours and short deadlines may have had you burning the candle at both ends. Perhaps there were weighty duties on your shoulders as you kept your squad afloat during the pandemic.

On the upside, it’s possible you achieved some important recognition for all your hard work. You may have been totally fired up about a project, even happy to put the blinders on and obsessively work on your pet project. But at times you may have felt like the burden was too great to carry alone.

From January 6 until March 3, Mars will blaze through Taurus and your eleventh house of collaboration and technology. Even if you keep working away, you don’t have to do it alone! Now’s the time to create new friendships and build your dream team. With all this hyped-up energy in your group sector, it’s less about what you “do” and more about “who you know.”

Could your tech skills use an upgrade? Invest in getting current on apps, social media or any digital platforms that can increase efficiency. Are you ready to launch that podcast you’ve been thinking about? Dive in! Freshen up your online profiles too; you could draw attention from a powerhouse group so you’ll want to put your best and most current face forward.

Week 2: January 11-17

A shell of a dilemma

Commune with your clique or hibernate in your cozy shell? You’ll be torn between dueling desires for group hangs and private encounters this week, which could create some stress. Balancing alone time and together time will be key. Make sure you don’t overbook yourself with meetings and meetups, whether virtual or IRL. But don’t leave your calendar so blank that you plummet into the post-holiday winter blues.

This week, activators Mars and Uranus are both making moves in Taurus and your eleventh house of group activity. But they’ll run into resistance from expansive Jupiter and staunch Saturn in Aquarius and your private, controlling eighth house. As Mars and Uranus push you into the public eye or a team setting, Jupiter and Saturn are feeling more controlling than democratic, cautioning you not to give away your power too readily.

It all begins on Wednesday, January class=”body-el-link standard-body-el-link” 13, when speedy Mars locks into a tense square with cautious Saturn. The effect can feel like having one foot on the gas, the other on the brake. While you may be tempted to rush into a collaboration, Saturn warns you to read all the fine print. Make sure you’re not signing away your rights or leaping too quickly into a situation that’s hard to pull out of if things go south.

Have you been feeling isolated—or, on the flip side, overwhelmed by too much group or screen time (hello #ZoomFatigue)? This Thursday, January 14, changemaker Uranus ends a five-month retrograde in Taurus and your eleventh house of teamwork and technology. A collaboration that stalled mid-August could pick up speed, especially on a virtual basis. You could be inspired to re-engage with the world, perhaps getting involved in a cause you care about. Don’t overthink it! With zero planets retrograde for the next two weeks, it’s a great time to make decisive moves.

Also on Thursday, the Sun and powerhouse Pluto make their once-a-year meetup, communing in Capricorn and your seventh house of partnerships. Being part of a dynamic duo could seriously build your cache. Look for people whose skills complement yours, but beware coming across as opportunistic—and steer clear of anyone who gives you “user-friendly” vibes!

Do you think you’re better off alone? The pull between going deep in one direction versus keeping things open-ended gets extra strong this Sunday, January 17, when two of the most freedom-seeking planets, Jupiter and Uranus, move into an embattled square. This only happens every seven years (the last Jupiter-Uranus square was in 2014).

Should you hold your cards close to your vest and wait for a bigger, better opportunity? Jupiter in your strategic eighth house could have you thinking this way. But impulsive Uranus in your group activity zone makes you want to leap into a collaboration and let the chips fall where they may.

Neither is right, as tends to be the case with planetary squares. Weigh your options before deciding which direction to take. This could play into a business partnership, a friendship or a romantic relationship. By keeping things exclusive, there’s opportunity to grow—but there’s a whole other adventure waiting if you give yourself breathing room and DON’T commit. The losses and gains seem equally stacked in either direction. When in doubt, wait it out!

Week 3: January 18-24

Temper your emotions before you act

Hunker down and set your notifications to “do not disturb,” Cancer. On Tuesday, January 19, the Sun shifts into Aquarius and your private, internal eighth house until February 18, joining Mercury, Jupiter and Saturn in the Water Bearer’s lair. Although your social sector is revved up, make sure to set aside quality one-on-one time for that special person or pet project.

But good luck getting any uninterrupted time on Wednesday, January 20. That day, hyperkinetic Mars and radical changemaker Uranus link up in Taurus and your eleventh house of group activity, making all collaborations extra dynamic. But you’ll also be a bit of a live wire, which could rub people the wrong way.

The energy is fast, sharp and erratic, and if you get too caught up in that, you could come across as overwhelming or even as a loose cannon. (Think of fellow Cancerian Tom Cruise in Jerry Maguire…or on Oprah’s couch.) If you feel suppressed in a group, that could bring out an explosive or reactive side of you. Don’t let your ego get the best of you, Crab. Demanding to be heard might get you the floor, but it could also leave other people feeling strong-armed into doing things your way. You’ll win the battle but lose the war when they’re left feeling bulldozed and resentful.

Another day to keep your emotions in check arrives class=”body-el-link standard-body-el-link” on Saturday, January 23. Rash Mars and impulsive Jupiter lock into a tense square (https://astrostyle.com/aspects/square), which could bring out your inner know-it-all. There could be power struggles and ego trips. But before you engage, ask yourself: What are you really trying to achieve here?

A bit of temperance arrives today as the “me first” Sun makes its annual conjunction with sober and restrained Saturn. As these two connect in Aquarius and your intimate eighth house, you could get a harsh reality check. Perhaps someone you trusted, even poured emotional or financial resources into, is turning out to be a less-than-stellar investment. Maybe you rushed to confront someone or got swept up in the excitement of an idea before conducting your research.

The Sun-Saturn conjunction is often a harsh or pessimistic day, a moment that can feel like you’ve been put in the penalty box. But during such a volatile week, this transit could act like the “adult in the room,” stopping you from doing something self-destructive based on raw emotion. Better to request a few more days to think something over than rush into a bad decision. (Our advice: Set your sights on the illuminating full moon of January 28!)

Week 4: January 25-31

Sharing is caring—up to a point

  Intensity is afoot this week, with a big batch of cosmic action brewing in Aquarius and your eighth house of intimacy, shared resources and investments. The Sun, Mercury, Jupiter and Saturn are all crowded together in this loyal sign, placing unusual emphasis on the chart zone where you deeply merge or join forces with others.

On Tuesday, January 26, the Aquarius Sun will square off against disruptor Uranus in stubborn Taurus, echoing the tension of the January 17 Jupiter-Uranus square. Once again, you could feel pulled between your desire for privacy in a tight, intimate circle and the adventurous allure of collaborating with a larger, more inclusive group.

Do you cave to the crowd or follow your inner GPS? Early this week, your intuition could send frantic signals to not go along with the herd or share your state secrets with someone who hasn’t proven themselves trustworthy. And why should you, Cancer? You don’t have to divulge private information to anyone—not even your closest confidantes—until you’re ready. But make sure you’re not being SO secretive that you miss an opportunity to team up with a powerful person who can advance your cause.

Here’s an idea: Sit tight until Thursday, January 28, when the first full moon of 2021 arrives in lucky Leo and your second house of work and money. La luna will rev up your revenue and bring a potentially profitable project to a turning point. If you’ve been job-hunting or in line for a raise or promotion, these moonbeams could manifest that with a roar! Ready to ditch a self-defeating habit and get your resolutions in gear? Start now.

Even better? This Thursday, the Sun will conjunct expansive Jupiter for its once-a-year meetup, now dubbed the Day of Miracles and considered by astrologers to be one of the luckiest days of the year. As these luminaries unite in innovator Aquarius, they could bring news of a joint venture, an investment or a large financial windfall. In your personal life, the Sun-Jupiter conjunction might herald an engagement, a sexy soulmate connection or a move toward more permanent status. The sky’s the limit with these two abundant and confident planets in sync!

Strikeclass=”body-el-link standard-body-el-link” while the iron’s hot though, because on Saturday, January 30, Mercury, the planet of communication and technology, will turn retrograde in erratic Aquarius until February 20. As Mercury scrambles signals in your intimate eighth house, old embers of mistrust or jealousy could flare up. With Aquarius’ independent, free-ranging energy at play, an ex (yours or your partner’s) could make an unexpected guest appearance. Tempting? Maybe. Toxic? If so..step away.

LOVE & ROMANCE:

Love has been all about goals since the beginning of summer, thanks to passionate Mars marching through Aries and your tenth house of long-term plans since June 27. This extended visit (four times longer than usual!) ends on January 6. If you’ve been anxious about where things are going or overly fixated on the future, that should change after the first week of the year.

From January 6 to March 3, Mars will freestyle through Taurus and your eleventh house of platonic and casual connections. The vibe should lighten up, and you could be attracted to someone in your friend group or who you meet online. Even if you have to keep things virtual with COVID restrictions, you won’t mind as much. Right now, you don’t feel like being overly pinned down with anyone!

And yet…things could get deeper than you expect after January 8, when romantic Venus shifts into Capricorn, igniting your committed relationship house until February 1. Even if you’re just getting to know each other, you’ll still be able to playfully and candidly talk about the future.

For couples, spending time together can be lighthearted and fun after January 8—and that’s a good thing since it’s likely you’ll be together a lot. Give each other lots of space and respect the other’s autonomy, which you’ll also be needing in large doses.

On January 9, Venus and Mars form a supportive 90-degree trine. Sparks could fly with a friend and you might get more experimental with your mate. With the love planets aligned in grounded earth signs, as long as you talk about your feelings and respect your partner’s needs, there’s almost no limit to how far you can stretch.

Key Dates:

January 9: Venus-Mars trine

Bring on the lasting love! As affectionate Venus and passionate Mars harmonize in stable earth signs, you could have true romance with all the trimmings—sensuality and stability. Skip the “come here now go away” players and their mixed messages. A partner who makes you feel secure is suddenly the most attractive catch in town. Coupled? Mark a long-term relationship with a thoughtful gift to let your mate know how much you cherish them.

MONEY & CAREER:

  Dear Reader: To bring you cutting-edge financial and career astrology, we’ve replaced ourclass=”body-el-link standard-body-el-link” monthly Money & Career horoscope with an expanded new offering. And we’re bursting with excitement to announce it!

We invite you to join the waitlist for our Astropreneurs community, where we’ll be sharing tools, trainings and cosmic career coaching in 2021 and beyond! Whether you’re an entrepreneur, a dreamer with a side hustle or just looking for deeper satisfaction from your work, we’ll guide you to your path and purpose by the stars.

2021 Vision Board Experience: January 28 class=”body-el-link standard-body-el-link” with The AstroTwins Ready to design a path that truly fulfills you in 2021? Join us for a star-powered live online event to create success, leadership and impact on January 28, 2021. Tickets available at https://astrostyle.com/visionboard21

Love Days: 8, 11

Money Days: 19, 28

Luck Days: 26, 16

Off Days: 24, 10, 13

See All Signs

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Cancer Monthly Horoscope

[ninjacat1515]

An Unintended Gift (Part 9)

He regarded Jack Sparrow in the cell; wrapped in silver chains, slumped in the filthy corner. Utterly defeated. It was thrilling. Armando chuckled as he approached the bars.

“This will not be your final resting place, bastardo....fear not.”

Sparrow couldn’t look at him, he couldn’t face the captain directly.

“I have no ship, no crew, and a bleak and eternal future. You don’t need to rub it in, mate.”

The usual jokes and uncaring zeal had withered away into dust. Jack felt nothing but a void within, a hollow misery that had taken root in his soul.

“What have you done with Gibbs?.....Can I at least say goodbye to me oldest friend?”

Salazar clicked his tongue, eyes shining in the dark.

“No, no....you may not. Originally, I was going to leave him in there with you and see how long you could resist before the hunger goaded you to take his life....pero I have thought of a far more satisfying punishment!”

Jack drooped even more, unable to ignore the burning in his skin from the silver. He was weak from malnourishment, and weak from defeat; barely able to keep his eyes open.

Armando savored every single second, leaning forward to gaze lovingly at Jack’s suffering. Pirate scum....he was quelled and under control; far from the security of his friends and fellow marauders.

“Gibbs is going to live out the remainder of his days in a quarry. He doesn’t deserve a quick death. Remember this, Sparrow....you are to blame for his fate. Your actions doom so many needlessly. An entire life of wickedness and poor judgment...”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Barbossa gave the vile a squint, lip curling. How disappointing. All of these miles for not. He wanted to scream.

“Excuse me, Shansa....how in blazes is this shiny stuff supposed to work? A few drops in Salazar’s glass?”

Darkly playful eyes were filled with mirth as the witch nodded.

“Yes! He must ingest it, or have an open wound exposed. Liquid silver is the ultimate bane to a vampire. Unlike a stake or fire, this will seep into his system; poisoning him....use it wisely, there is not much left.”

Barbossa eyed her as he drew close.

“If there be so little of it, then how about getting a move on with creating more? We could use a few gallons, missy.”

Shansa laughed, running a ragged nail around the rim of her tea cup.

“With no captain, the crew will be demoralized. You can send in your slayers then. Such a mighty and powerful leader taken out like a rodent....use caution, Barbossa.....now is not the time for impulsiveness or rash actions.”

He folded his arms, snorting.

“You have no need to tell me twice, lass! Those demons slaughtered my crew like they were nothing but children with wooden swords....never seen anything like it....Just let me have my revenge against the Spaniards, and I’ll assist you with your troubles.”

The witch traced a nail across Barbossa’s cheek.

“You will have your revenge, and I mine. Patience, captain....”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gibbs didn’t speak the whole time he rode in the barred carriage; feeling like cattle being sent to to the butcher. The rock quarry whistled and moaned in the wind, an eerie backdrop to the heavy fog. This was hell, and he had just entered its gates.

Rough hands grabbed him, pulling him out to stand. The cold was bitter and unyielding, and Gibbs immediately missed the warmth and sun of the Caribbean. How far north was he? Damn this weather.....and damn himself.

His dear friend Jack had more dumb luck in one nail, than most of humanity put together. Only this time, neither of them had triumphed. Jack was languishing in a cell somewhere in Spain; awaiting a horrible fate. And Gibbs now had a ceaseless amount of rock to extract from the hills; surrounded by withered souls.

He couldn’t give up hope though. There had to be a way to freedom; a way to get Jack out of prison. Gibbs’s mind hummed with activity as he began to formulate a plan of escape.

[illyriantremors]

ACOMAF Part 1: The House of Beasts Chapters 1-13 (Rhys POV)

Chapters 1-4: Return from UtM to Feyre’s Wedding Panic Attack Chapter 5: Feyre’s Wedding & Arrival in the Night Court Chapter 6: Learning to Read Chapter 7: Returning Feyre to the Spring Court Chapters 8-10: The Next Three Weeks & Retrieving Feyre for Her Second Trip Chapter 11: Feyre’s Second Night Court Visit Chapters 12-13: Rescuing Feyre from the Spring Court

I did a thing. We’ll see if I can do more before ACOWAR comes out. Below is Chapters 1-4 of ACOMAF in Rhys’s POV and above are the links to those same chapters plus the rest on AO3. Hope ya like!

Summary: Roughly Chapters 1-4 of ACOMAF from Rhys’s POV. It’s mostly a focus on the last two weeks before Feyre gets married with summation thrown in on how his time has been since leaving UtM. Includes her nightmare that opens the book and some lovely chatting with Morrigan the day of Feyre’s wedding.

Hello Feyre Darling

The mountains of the Illyrian Steppes wrought a chill through my bones I hadn’t felt in years.

We flew for most of the day, listening to wherever the shadows at my brother’s back directed us, until at last the sun began to set and we landed in a small clearing between the trees.

They were close. Near enough to sent them on the tendrils of wind that carried their blood and sweat through the heavy pine of the woods. Since my return, I’d lost count of the number of rogue Illyrian war bands I’d had to hunt down and confront. And that wasn’t counting the number Cassian and Azriel had taken care of in my absence.

Today’s hunt felt restless. The outcome had been decided the moment we left the Steppes. These primal encounters never changed even if I spent the hours flying faster towards them hoping they would.

A confrontation. An offering of second chances. Bow down and obey - or pay the debt they owed for the blood they’d spilt, the debt for using fifty years of freedom to push the boundaries however they pleased.

The Night Court would need every drop in the coming weeks that it could spare. Petty disagreements over territory, among other things, wasn’t something I could deal with in the middle of a shift that sought to overthrow the entirety of Prythian.

And once Illyrian alliances shifted, they rarely shifted back.

So in blood, they usually ended.

We threaded through the trees, Cassian and Azriel silently stalking several paces out on either side of me until we hit the gap where the band made camp. It was a small legion, perhaps a dozen or so with their chosen lord in the center. An exquisite gash ran down the center of his cheek. No doubt he had been forced to earn his rank, had likely volunteered for the blood bath.

I wondered what they had done with the bodies, if they’d bothered to bury them properly in Illyrian fashion or had left them to rot in the snow.

Their heads turned in our direction as we neared close enough for them to catch our scent, but by then it was already too late. I held their minds steady from the grip of my power long before the three of us cleared the trees lining the perimeter of their camp.

My brothers strode quietly out from the trees, the swords they’d been gifted at the Blood Rite brandished in their hands in an offensive gesture, ready to strike at a moment’s signal from me.

Slowly, I narrowed my eyes on the newly elected lord and approached, tendrils of darkness trailing in my wake, my wings stretched out wide enough at my back to send a jolt of fear down even the toughest Illyrian’s back.

“Do I need to bother asking?”

My voice was flat, hardly even a question as the lord looked me over once and spat directly at my feet. “Whore,” he cursed and internally, I savored the feel of my mental claws dragging through his mind, undoing every last piece of who he was and would ever become before I let his body fall limp and ragged to the snow. I didn’t even wait. Little impulses of pain trembled along his skin and muscles in those last seconds before he gave up and was no more.

All round me, the forest rang silent save for the bitter, cold wind howling my sins in my ears.

Red splattered in harsh contrast against the snow at my feet, large sloppy drops dripping from Truth-Teller’s blade.

Azriel looked stoically at me as if he hadn’t just shed the blood of a half-dozen men he’d once shared camp with. I often wondered how he managed to lock that darkness away so well.

Slowly, he lifted a brow as snow crunched between Cassian’s heavy boots on my other side.

“Rhys?” Cassian said, dragging my attention down to my hands. They were shaking in a near violent manner.

Whore.

“Let’s go.”

“Rhys-”

I grabbed both their hands and winnowed on the spot before they could say another word.

I did not join them at the House of Wind that night for dinner.

There was blood everywhere.

All over the three young fae hooded and kneeling on the unforgiving marble floor, the dagger I watched fall clattering to that same ground, and most especially all over her.

Feyre stood reaching with a trembling hand for the second dagger covered in blood. Her clothes were soaked from merely one kill that shouldn’t have garnered that much evidence of her deeds. It carried onto her hands - her poor, stuttering hands that plunged themselves upon the fae woman singing herself into death’s waiting arms.

Amarantha sat poised on the throne calling Feyre on with praise. It felt disgustingly wrong.

Feyre pulled the third dagger and I knew what to expect as the veil was to be lifted on the final victim. Tamlin would be waiting and then our fate would be in the hands of this small human girl none of us knew. I felt like I was going to be sick even as Feyre questioned whether or not she could go through with one more murder - just one more murder, and we would all be free. Such a steep price to pay for her.

The hood lifted. Silence fell.

The blood stood out in stark relief against the resounding quiet of the room.

Feyre knelt before the third victim - before herself, her ears turned up into two stiff points, her skin smooth and blended into a soft perfection only my own breed possessed. And her body, which had become so long and elegant with its new fae gifted powers, sat strongly before her, beseeching her move forward.

And that’s when I knew where I was.

I saw Amarantha up on her throne because I saw her from Feyre’s eyes and not my own place on the dias where I should have been. This was nothing new. We’d been inside this prison countless times before and always we failed to get out alive.

Murderer.

The words chanted inside Feyre’s mind as a flurry of self-loathing and hopelessness I only ever felt inside myself welled up beneath her skin.

Butcher.

She angled the dagger at herself and my lungs screamed inside of me to stop her as I felt her anticipate the relief that blade could give her. No, no, never -

Monster.

A relief she welcomed, craved even. It was horrifying to watch, to feel.

Liar.

And it killed me to think she could see herself that way, in any way other than the determined, resourceful woman I’d met Under the Mountain who had saved us all and lost herself in the process.

“Feyre!” I screamed inside her mind, as violently and brutally as I once had to stop Amarantha from attacking her.

Deceiver.

But it was too late.

Feyre thrusted the knife into her own chest and I watched as my mate willingly committed suicide before my own eyes. Somehow, it was a thousand times worse than hearing her neck snap against her will.

I was already half-awake when I felt Feyre wake me from her nightmare.

Maybe my body was adjusting, learning to anticipate these moments each night, waking me up hours before the day needed me.

But Feyre needed me - needed someone. And so each night, I readied myself to be stolen prematurely from sleep. If I thought it might be a welcome reprieve from my own nightmares, I was wrong. Watching Feyre suffer was infinitely worse than doing it myself.

Her mind read like an open book when she woke like this and tumbled blindly out of bed racing for the bathroom. Had it not been for her own obsession with marking Tamlin’s position strewn about the sheets, willfully ignoring her distress, I wouldn’t have even realized he was there consuming her energy.

But he was there and night after night I watched her pretend it didn’t hurt her not to have him wake up at her movements, her tremors.

Calmly, I rose from bed and walked to my own bathing room that stretched wide and luxuriously off my townhouse. Most visits to these chambers, I indulged my wings in the freedom the space allowed, but tonight, I allowed no trace of them.

Sitting down between the toilet and the edges of the bathing pool, I felt the cool porcelain meet my back and waited for Feyre to finish retching... hundreds of miles away. Sweat coated both our brows. Feyre’s brown-gold hair fell against her face, a curtain around my own vision as I blacked out the waste filling the toilet in front of her - in front of us.

I wished I could see her eyes. It was, perhaps, the cruelest and most overlooked portion of my bargain with her. The bond linking us showed me what Feyre saw, but Feyre never looked at herself. Never gazed into any mirrors or wandered past lakes or meadows or reflective surfaces of any kind that might give me a glance at her face. I knew she wasn’t getting out that frequently much to my regrettable ire, so the lack of scenery in her life didn’t entirely surprise me, but the fact that she actively avoided her own reflection in the privacy of her rooms spoke volumes enough.

Redness stung sharply at Feyre’s eyes and at last, I felt her pull back and cling to herself, scrambling only mere inches away for the open window that revealed the night sky and she wiped the slickness away from her cheeks. Whatever remained was soon dried by the cool, crisp air kissing her skin.

Were her eyes more grey or blue tonight? I couldn’t remember from when I looked at her Under the Mountain, how the colors changed with her growing distress.

This is real, she thought. I survived. I made it out.

She had survived. She was free.

But still, she huddled around herself hugging her knees to her chest as though she were anything but.

Agony sank into my stomach as I felt her sharpened nails dig into her skin at the fists she’d tightened, as she gasped for air in deep breathes I took alongside her out the open window. She struggled for air, anything to feel a stasis again and there was only so much of it the night sky could provide her.

My night sky. I felt like a failure every time the stars blinked out in front of her and she lost herself a little bit more.

Real.

She mouthed the word to herself over and over again.

Yes, this is real, I thought, but I didn’t say it loud enough for her to hear.

For three months I’d sat back and watched just like Tamlin had on his seat next to Amarantha. For three months, I’d quietly convinced myself that the mask I wore Under the Mountain had become my real mask here at home. For three months, I convinced myself that the glorious emerald sitting on Feyre’s finger, the tears of joy she’d cried receiving it, were exactly what she wanted - what she deserved.

Tamlin.

She had done all of this for Tamlin. Not me. She hated me. More than hated me. Perhaps hate was too weak a word for what she felt for me. I had to remind myself of that fact constantly even as it drove knives under my skin.

If an eternity in the Spring Court was what she wanted, then I would let her have it. Cauldron knew I had done enough to fuck up her life. Dragging her to the Night Court for pointless visitations that would guarantee she hated me more, even if it meant gaining a valuable edge in what I knew was coming, would not help her.

And all I wanted was to help her. For my mate, I would yield to this nightly poison if it meant her happiness.

And yet...

Here she sat night after night. Alone. In the dark waiting for something to answer her. It was the only time I wavered. It was the only time I questioned my decision.

But unless she asked the question, unless she made the choice and called my name, I’d leave her be. This was her peace and she’d earned it.

However much I hated every single second of it and denied my loathing in the process, I had become such a coward. A monster.

Feyre’s noting of the pain lacing her palms dragged my attention back to her. I saw her fists unfurl revealing the sleek eye I had etched upon her left hand. She felt calmer now, more recovered from the incident that had transpired tonight. But her scowl at the tattoo and subsequent abhorrence flooding through her was dismissal enough.

And I knew those feelings all too well to ignore them.

Together, we stood. Together, we left our bathing chambers.

Separately, we returned to our own private worlds - she in hers and me in mine.

I had two weeks until I lost her, and likely the future of my court, forever.

The smooth ceiling of my room shimmered faintly in the early morning light as it poured in through the open windows of my room. Snow from the rooftops nearby reflected an extra layer of sheen to the light that would have been somehow dimmer any other time of year.

Though I hated having my wings pinned down, I rested comfortably on my back preferring to have them out and suffocated than stuffed inside myself, a further reminder of my previous imprisonment.

It was rare that a day went by in which I did not fly somewhere. Most nights I couldn’t sleep and so the stars wove together to form a cradle for me instead. I had missed it, that feeling of open air and crisp cool wind that burned my skin and lungs so badly the pain became a pleasure. Not even on the rare occasions Amarantha let me out of my cells of dirt and stone did I dare attempt flying. Anyone could see. Anyone might mark me for it and use it against me later on.

I knew she knew. She had to have known about my wings. She couldn’t not know after the weeks she’d spent with them pinned to the walls during the war torturing me for information. Yet it was the one part of myself she seemed to have forgotten or else casually chose to ignore while I was Under the Mountain.

There is one person who saw your wings in that court. You showed them to her when she cleaned your room...

I shuddered with a groan, the sheets beneath me feeling stale.

The Mountain.

I had to stop drowning in thoughts of it. It was too masochistic when this day already brought enough pain for me to harvest for the remainder of many winters yet to come.

Yet here I was lying wide awake in bed, my fingers tracing circles over themselves as I stared at the blank expanse of ceiling that mimicked the future I would enter into by the end of the day.

War was coming.

For three months since I’d earned my freedom and come home, my mind had been torn in two with one half dedicated to this repeated thought.

War was coming.

And the only way I could see to stop it was... just out of my reach. Barely any time into my reign as High Lord and already, I was going to fail my court miserably. Fifty years of service in those gods forsaken caves would be wiped out, forgotten among the pages of history the second Hybern figured out the key to rebuilding that damned pot that would unmake us all. I supposed if he succeeded, my lone consolation would be that all of history would be forgotten alongside whatever shitty contributions I had failed to make in a feeble attempt to go down on the side of good.

Dread knotted into the muscle fibers banding around my stomach and I didn’t know if the sentiment was mine or hers - the other half of my pounding thoughts. Maybe it was ours both.

She’d thought my name last night, only hours ago. Not only thought it, but said it.

Then you don’t know Rhysand very well at all.

The words had floated casually into my mind in a sea of emptiness I’d blocked out most of the day, startling me into pleasant surprise.

She never thought my name unless she could help it. The only time her mind dared to wander down that dark and drunken alleyway was in the middle of her nightmares, when she’d stare at that eye tattooed upon her skin and curse my name for it.

A curse. That’s all it meant to her. A cauldron damned curse.

Which was why it shocked me so thoroughly to feel it spoken off her lips, the bond opening like a chasm deep and wide for that brief moment to let me in.

...Rhysand...

She had so little control over her mind. There were times it was wide open and I flipped her thoughts over as one would the pages of a book, easily taking my time to peruse as I saw fit, something I preferred not to do if I could help it.

There were other times that it was closed. When she was so distracted by how bored or idle she was that ironically her mind felt it had nothing better to do than shut against me, entirely unaware of what she was doing.

But last night, she’d spoken my name. Spoken it and cringed even as she showed me through her vision those around her doing the same, including Ianthe, that frigid High Priestess better suited to a brothel than a temple altar.

Reflexively, I stretched my fingers wide allowing the stretch to pull the curse out of me. I had no love for Ianthe and her schemes, but it shamed me all the same to condemn her to the same names I had resorted to for the sake of my court.

Whore.

Perhaps that was what my mate called me in her mind when she tried not to think my name. She certainly hated me enough to use it. Everyone else did. My name was sure to be a curse inside her mind, one she would spend the rest of her life avoiding, already did avoid every time she stared at her tattoo and prayed I had forgotten her with such loathing and desperation, I sometimes forgot my place and plummeted straight out of the sky.

I avoided her name too. Avoided it like the plague. It was a reminder of what I could not have even if I was prepared to sit by for an eternity and watch her myself through the bond she thought was nothing more than dark blue ink on her arm and a broken bone I’d once mended.

Most days, I succeeded at keeping her out save for those moments her emotion become so strong she was practically at my side screaming at me. The only time I couldn’t seem to avoid it entirely was when -

A knock rapped curtly at my bedroom door. My eyes flickered close with a deep sigh. Speak of the devil, I should have known this would be coming.

“Come in, Morrigan,” I said, not bothering to sit up in greeting as my cousin walked briskly into my bedroom. “As if you needed an invitation.” My voice did not come out pleasantly.

“Good morning to you too,” she said with a small frown. “I’ll try not be too hurt by your underwhelming reaction to seeing me.”

She plopped herself down on my bed lying next to me, her arms tucked behind her head teaming with long golden locks that grew brighter in the increasing sunlight streaming in from outside. She had on a pair of dark leggings and a deep blue blouse, a color that suited her well.

I turned my head enough to look at her and spoke plainly.

“I told you weeks ago not to check in on me anymore.”

She pulled one hand down to examine her well manicured nails and flicked them off without a word.

“Morrigan.”

“When are you going to stop pretending that everything is fine? I’m not an idiot. I know what day this is.”

“Everyone in Prythian knows what day this.”

“Not everyone, including Cassian, whom you stormed out of training with yesterday after insisting you were fine when he asked you why you want to get shit faced tonight for no apparent reason.”

She lifted her brows daring me to deny it. I shrugged. “I see no reason why it’s any business of his - or yours for that matter - if I want to get drunk with my friends for the hell of it.”

“For her, you mean. For Feyre.”

Feyre.

And there it was. Morrigan was the one constant in my life capable of always dragging the truth out of me. She didn’t even need the aid of her magnificent gifts or charm to do it. Sheer will and nagging were enough alone.

“And I think you mean friend, singular, not friends, seeing as how no one else was invited to your little escapade tonight.”

I snorted and a ghost of a smile almost graced my face. “I suppose that’s why you’re here now, is it? To tell me how much you long to take care of two sick puking Illyrian males for the evening. And you can spare me the trouble of trying to convince me Azriel actually wants to be there for that.”

My brother would sooner have dinner alone with Amren than turn up to watch me become a morose drunk. Azriel spent his life among the shadows. He didn’t need to deal with my self-indulgent pity party on top of that.

“Azriel can take care of himself anywhere, as you damn well know,” Morrigan said, her eyes hard as steel, ever ready to defend her preferred Illyrian. “And he’d be there in a heartbeat,” she drummed her fingers on my chest for emphasis, “if you asked him and you know it. As I would too.”

I sighed, but didn’t say anything, my attention returned to that blank, blank ceiling above us.

Because of course she was right. That’s what was so annoyingly perfect about her and why we had all clung to her like honey for the better part of near on six hundred years.

“Rhys,” Morrigan said, propping herself up on one elbow, her voice softening. “It’s not too late, you know. She doesn’t marry him until sundown.” I didn’t have to ask who she’d spoken to for that intimate piece of information. “You could go and get her.”

“And say what, precisely? ‘Remember me? The man who got you drunk for three months, tortured you, taunted you, and pushed you into a bargain you didn’t want when I could have just been nice and saved you without asking anything in return? We’re mates and I’d love it if you didn’t marry the High Lord of Spring that you risked everything for. How does that sound?’“

Morrigan pursed her lips and bobbed her head a bit considering. “That’s an... interesting way to do it, but you might find a more subtle approach to yield better results.”

“Your suggestion, oh Queen of my wretched court?”

Mor smirked like a tiger. She liked that one and it seemed to put the next idea in mind.

“Why don’t you try starting with ‘Hello, Feyre darling.’ Someone once told me that one garners quite the reaction out of her.”

“Why do I tell you these things,” I said shaking my head. “You are impossible.” Morrigan laughed.

“So are you. Must run in the family.”

I was too miserable to return the laugh.

“Sundown.”

“Sundown,” she confirmed even though I already knew that detail, had been given every detail of this weeding right down to the lace design of the doilies they would set the tea kettles on. Azriel had given me all of that and more.

She would marry at sundown, when I’d go find Cassian and likely watch Feyre marry herself away, taking the easiest, albeit still perilous, path towards stopping an impending war away from my court along with my mate. In my drunken state warping the barriers of my mind, I’d likely see everything as it happened and hopefully forget it all by morning.

The Cauldron was cruel.

Perhaps a night of obnoxious drinking with my brother wasn’t such a good idea after all.

Sunlight filtered the room in full force now. Morning was here which gave me a long time to decide how much revelry I would be up for come nightfall.

“Morrigan.”

“Yes, Rhys,” my cousin replied thoughtfully.

“What are you doing today?”

“Hmm,” she said, a little hum in her throat. Her hips gave a scoot on the bed knocking into mine teasingly. “Hanging out with your sorry ass, I’d imagine.”

If only Feyre was never this alone. She might be here already.

Despite how much I liked to complain about my dear cousin, having Morrigan around for the day was more comfort than I cared to admit.

The only one who knew. The only one I’d told. Not even Amren knew everything that had transpired under that rock of dirt that cut Prythian in half.

By now, my inner circle knew strictly the facts. Feyre was a mortal who had willingly come into the lion’s den and offered herself already dripping in blood and bait to save Tamlin and break the curse on our world. After defeating three brutal tasks to free the fae she had grown up despising, she solved Amarantha’s riddle only to be killed at the fae queen’s hands anyway and wind up miraculously remade into one of our own. A High Fae lady among us with the spark of seven High Lords in her blood where once a human huntress had been.

And that was where the knowledge stopped. No one knew who she was to me. No one knew how deep the bargain on her tattooed hand now ran. No one knew what torment those three months had wrought on her still human heart, the one keeping her sane despite what she thought.

Feyre Cursebreaker was whispered throughout Prythian. Even the fae of Velaris, my own sanctuary I had struggled for centuries to keep hidden from the world, spoke of her. Their savior, she was hailed and rightfully so.

But never their Lady. Never their queen. And certainly never my mate.

I knew the second I saw Morrigan waiting for me on that balcony when I came home that I would keep it all locked away from them. I told Morrigan because I had to. I had to tell someone and she just happened to be there for me, the right person when I’d needed her. Had it been anyone else...

The relief at seeing her was... overwhelming, to say the least.

The words fell out of my mouth in droves I couldn’t contain. We didn’t move until I’d spat the entire story out at her, her eyes grown wide from shock as she watched me fall apart. I hadn’t even given her time to embrace me before I was gasping She’s my mate, my mate, my mate - she’s my mate at her over and over again and she had no idea who I was even referencing.

The last time I’d seen my cousin, I’d been dressed in my finest mask, the essence of power and might and all that I ever was and I’d returned home to her a mess. She had pleaded to go with me, had said I needed someone at my side that night to keep me from ripping my hair out all evening. I’d almost let her come. I would have been utterly fucked if I had.

And I vowed never to let the others see it. The second my story was done and I let Morrigan winnow us home to Velaris, I felt a hole inside of me close for none to pass through. Close, but a gaping pit remained beneath it waiting for the stitches holding it shut to burst open.

I wouldn’t let it.

We spent most of this day in quiet silence, content to remain at the townhouse for most of the morning before taking to the streets of Velaris and breathing in the fresh air. We walked for hours, never saying more than was necessary. Her presence was enough.

Occasionally, Morrigan would touch my wrist or squeeze my shoulder, but she never pried. Not once.

Not until we came home and stood on the rooftop watching the sun begin its descent towards the tips of the horizon. It was nice to stop and be idle for once. A day of walking had wormed a sick, nauseated feeling into my gut that was becoming harder and harder to ignore the longer we went.

“Cassian will be here soon,” I said. I stood stiffly with my feet apart and arms crossed over my chest.

“Is that a dismissal?” Morrigan said with little inflection. Stay or go, she would accept my request.

“It’s never a dismissal. You know that.”

She tossed her hair over her shoulder and smirked up at me. “I’ll try to remember that the next time we bicker over dinner or you get invited to a big party in someone else’s court.”

“That’s your own doing and you know it.”

Morrigan leaned up and kissed my cheek before turning for the door. “Say hello to Cass for me.” Her voice darkened and I felt her grow deadly serious. “He’s worried about you, you know. We all are. Your mask doesn’t fool everyone, Rhys. And this isn’t Amarantha’s court anymore. You needn’t always be so guarded.”

“I’m not so su-”

“Feyre?”

The words died in my throat. The barriers of my mind cracked open like lightning ripping the heavens apart as I saw through her eyes miles and miles away from me.

Tamlin was standing feet from Feyre, his arm outstretched towards it as she struggled in vein to convince her to take his offered hand.

Help me, help me, help me, she begged - pleaded so pitifully in her mind, her body begging her tongue to make use of the thought and turn it into some kind of action. I saw through her eyes, took advantage of the window she’d opened for me and surveyed the scene.

High Fae - hundreds of them - sat around her gawking whilst red rose petals that Feyre couldn’t stop staring at screamed at her from every corner.

Blood boiled in my veins. Darkness spilled out of me like waves on a turbulent night sea. I couldn’t see it through the fog I traveled within between our minds, but I could damn well feel it.

The bastards. The fucking bastards had recreated her damned trials all over again.

With Feyre, I saw them the way she did. This was not an assembly of Prythian’s finest turned out to celebrate a blessed union with her. This was a human standing in a pit of mud and bone and grime while those same people pretending to be her friends now stood around the perimeter of her cage and watched her fight a creature from the bowels of hell itself that she could never hope to kill. This was a girl who had no education, had never learned to read standing before a riddle she could not decipher while her only friend cried out behind her and these fools applauded feet above her head. This was the girl who had stained her soul with blood and death for the sake of the man she loved and earned only the cruel snap of her neck in return.

Save me - please, save me. Get me out. End this.

This was Under the Mountain all over again. Feyre was relieving it in the full light of day, but this time, the mask was pulled off and she was forced to see it as a blessing.

But her happiness, her happy ending... no one moved to help her and the solution sat there dangling before my eyes and I couldn’t move even as my heart tore itself to shreds watching her panic rise to a breaking point. I couldn’t take her future away from her, not unless she -

No.

Tamlin stepped forward and Feyre recoiled. No - no.

That was all I needed. That one little word. That was all I had ever needed.

I made my decision. Tamlin might be content to sit idly by and not do anything, but I would not. I would never keep quiet any longer. I would never - could never - let her suffer an eternity like this. I was shamed for how long I’d already let it go on.

“Rhys?”

Morrigan’s voice became a dull, distant memory in my mind as I winnowed on the spot. I wouldn’t have been surprised if Velaris had been plunged into darkness and storm with the rage that flew off me and swirled itself into thunderous applause as I landed in a cloud of smoke and shadow in the middle of the Spring Court. Starlight flecked the dust around me and when it settled, I stepped out of it giving a brisk shirk to the lapels of my jacket, now formal and elegant compared to the casual tunic I’d worn most of the day.

I had no idea of the chaos erupting around me. I spared the guests no thought as my eyes plucked over them one by one like the strings on a violin looking for her.

And then, there she was. Standing mere feet away from me.

And she was absolutely horrified at my appearance, but I didn’t care. Seeing her there standing in that dress that drowned her out and stole her voice, I felt a flicker of happiness for the first time in months.

My mask - that cruel mask of the wicked High Lord of Night hated and despised by all - was fitted tightly around me once more, but after fifty years of wearing it and three months of struggling to remember who I was without it, it felt like a comfort, a road I knew how to navigate that would get me... somewhere. Anywhere that was closer to her.

I looked at Feyre dead in the eye and the words sprang immediately to my lips in a rich, soothing purr that felt immediately familiar.

“Hello, Feyre darling.”

All around me, everyone screamed.

xx