#people expect you to “read between the lines” when you literally CAN'T

[robinwithay]

i think a lot of people in the fandom have a bad habit of acting as if aziraphale should know everything we, the audience, know about crowley, and that he should therefore be more sympathetic to feelings that aziraphale literally doesn't even know crowley has, because crowley hasn't told him.

[abearinthewoods]

What is autism

I get what autism is and how it can work but only really on a superficial level, I don't get it really cause I don't have it.

Autism is a consistent mismatch between how you mean to come across, and how you actually come across. Autism is knowing and understanding every single cringe thing you've ever done, but only months after the fact. Autism is finding out at 34 that expectations of eye contact doesn't mean stare directly and only into their eyes. Autism is the fact that for every specific struggle an aspie has, there is another who excels at it, which only gets used to excuse why you deserve no compassion for your struggle.

Its the consistent self doubt related to every social interaction because you can't tell where lines are or why/when people are allowed to cross them. Until you just flip flop between holding everybody at arms length so that you don't get in trouble for accidentally-ing a boundary and feeling so isolated watching other people figure out how and when to dip into more familiar/friendly territory with others and deciding to say fuck it to the anxious thoughts and randomly stumbling upon a friend who you can finally connect with on more than a superficial level in the mist of 5 people who are now creeped out by you and are trying to convince said friend to ostracize you.

But on a more literal level, Autism is a brain whos subconscious operates purely on flood gates. Emotional situations will trigger seemingly no emotional reaction, unless the neurochemical strength hits past a threshold, and then it triggers all the emotional reaction. Even the ability to read somebody else, some part of you sees the facial signs, but the signals produce no response, until they hit past a threshold, then they trigger a full and sometimes overwhelming response.

And because we can't read other people, we don't see what people can read into us, correctly or incorrect, which often gets us into trouble.

tl;dr: Imagine if your subconscious could only whisper so quiet you can't hear anything or scream so loud you can't hear anything else.

[arcanesea]

letters

PAIRING: lee seokmin x reader GENRE: established relationship, fluff WC: 620 WARNINGS: none

When you said you like letters better than flowers, it never crossed your mind that you would receive long paragraphs of text literally every day from Seokmin.

He still gets you flowers every few weeks, freshens up your window, and gives new color to your room. But he loves writing for you. He would spend some time before bed writing in your chat room, telling you everything.

"Did you receive it?" Seokmin asked when both of you meet during the weekend. His eyes shine with expectations that you soon snuff out by looking confused and saying no.

"Oh no..." Seokmin said. his face fell as he realized that you might never get it, that he might have messed it up in the process. After all, it's his first time sending letters through the post office, with stamps and all. Your heart sank when he told you.

"It's fine, don't worry. I remember everything... I'll just write another one and give it to you tomorrow." He reassured.

You went home in the evening, yanking the post box open, and found nothing. Motivated by the letter's content, you went to the post office, talking to the staff, trying to find your missing letter. When one of them digs through the pile of letters, you feel a spark of hope.

You went home immediately after receiving the letter with a golden retriever stamp. In it was the handwriting you recognize well. A two-page handwritten letter that makes your heart tinge with warmth.

I hope this reaches you, the first line read. I can't believe people used to do this back in the day to talk to each other. I don't think I can handle anticipating a reply.

You know, I always love writing letters. Especially for you. However, I find it difficult to put everything into words. But mostly, I find it difficult to explain my feelings when you're around. You make me the happiest in the world, and I love that you always reassure me that I make you feel the same way.

ever since I met you, I think I understand love better. I have more courage to love, because you, my adventurer, deserve the daring love. One that's not afraid to take consequences if it means proving you how loved you are. The good consequences.

But you also deserve the soft love, the pat on the head when days get tough, and the rub on the back when the world gets too cruel. I know just how to fix that with words, and I always love sending them to you because I know you captured them and keep a folder filled with soft words, and good words.

Aside from that, you also deserve guiltless love, the I love yous in the middle of the day just because, the I love yous in between activities because of how easy it was to love you.

And it was easy to love you. If you ever doubted that it was the other way around, I'm telling you; it was easy to love you. It was as easy as breathing, as blinking, as picking up my favorite snack in the convenience store, as reading my favorite book, as singing the lyrics to my favorite songs. by now, loving you is like a muscle memory.

You put the letter in your chest, inhaling sharply as you try to not cry. Seokmin has a way with words, that's for sure, and with him, you don't feel you're saying too much because he would say equally as much. Your world is crowded with his words, words that never stop making you smile.

I love you my star. Don't doubt that for a second.

You would never dare.

a/n. i think i teared up a bit while writing this. bcs as much as this is something he would write, i think i wrote this while thinking of him too. it is, indeed, easy to love him.

[viktoriaashleyyx]

Why do some of us not *hate* Tamlin?

I am pro-tamlin, not pro feylin. I would prefer Tamlin to never have to deal with the NC ever again. If SJM never types his name out again I will be happy.

Tw: light mentions to DV, SA, and Divorce.

Feyre is written in a way that makes it feel like she is intentionally manipulating us against Tamlin to justify her leaving him the way she did, and to put Rhysand up on a pedestal.

The abrupt and sloppy way SJM handled Tamlins' character assassination induced my fight or flight. Let me explain:

My parents divorced when I was 4, and I had to learn, quickly, how to interpret people's true intentions and empathize with where they are coming from vs just blindly listening to someones account of what happened. My father got custody of us and would use the same elements against my mom that Feyre uses against Tamlin. I HAVE to read between the lines or I would fall to the intentional manipulation.

"She left me so she probably cheated" "he trapped me in the house" "she has a new boyfriend so she doesn't care about you anymore" "he hit me [when I was actively TRYING to get him to hit me to sway public opinion of him]"

Everytime Feyre left for the NC, she did so kicking and screaming. Every indication Tamlin could see was that she did NOT want to go with Rhys, until he gets a letter from her saying to not come looking for her that she doesn't want to be with him. Tamlin didn't know she could read or write. Had that been my love I would assume it was a ransom note too, written by someone else. Had she actually spent 1 hr winnowing to Tamlin, tell him face to face, then winnow back (with an escort) he MIGHT have gotten the hint.

A tithe was a weird thing to use to show how cruel Tamlin is, considering how 2/3 of the night court live in constant fear, children's bones are broken for misbehaving, the CoN are trapped there. SJM really showed us that she has no political knowledge what so ever. I barely started ACOFAS and when Feyres talking about the unnatural sum of her money, my first thought is "You don't amass that level of wealth without oppressing someone." Lucien said that Tamlin would be expected to hunt down those not able to pay the tithe, but when we get to Tamlins actual actions he just said "get it together in 3 days or pay double next time". In my initial reading, I interpreted it as another mask (like how Rhysand acts). Tamlin does this due to tradition, he is expected to act a certain way, but *I felt* he had no intention of acting out what he said. It was just a line he was expected to say to send the wraith away without others expecting the same.

Feyre and Tamlin were not right for eachother because they were not eachothers mates. People can exist fine separately, and be incredibly toxic together. From page 1 we see Feyres inherent inability to empathize with anyone, she has it bad, she has to hunt, therefore her sisters don't do anything. But she also can't cook, so who was preparing the meat she brought home? It gave me "housework isn't real work" vibes. Feyre also doesn't communicate very well, which would explain why a literal mind reader was able to help her better than Tamlin was. I saw Tamlin trying but not being able to help her because he couldn't read her mind.

Feyre didn't want to be trapped in a manor for a few hours while she was displaying manic behavior, but she condoned her sisters be trapped in the HOW for 6 weeks immediately after losing their lives. She condones the treatment of the people in Hewn city and supports the literal Jim Crow laws placed against them in Velaris when all they wanted was to leave. She condones and supports trapping Nesta in HoW after the war just to force Cassain on her so Feyre can play matchmaker.

Feyre is an inherently self centered sociopath. She can read minds and still can't develop a shred of empathy.

Just leave Tamlin alone. Damn.

[starryeyedjanai]

sitting between comfort and chaos

steddie | 5.7k | rated: teen

5 times everyone thought Steve and Eddie were dating before they got together + the first time Steve tells someone after they actually get together

happy birthday @legitcookie!!! i hope you had a fantastic day!💗

read on ao3

1.

Thinking back on it all, Steve thinks he should have known something was up when Dustin started letting Eddie sit up front when he drove them places, a spot reserved only for Robin or Erica when Dustin was riding with him.

Steve has seen that kid - who's not really a kid anymore, he's in college now which is so weird to think about - elbow his friends in the neck trying to get to the car first so he could ride shotgun. So giving up the coveted spot for anyone - even Eddie - should have been a giant red flag.

Steve brings up Dustin letting Eddie sit up front to Robin and gets an eye roll for his trouble.

"What?" he asks. "It's not like it isn't weird. The kid will literally only let you or Erica sit up front and he only lets Erica do it because he's afraid of her."

"Yeah, and he let me sit up front because he thought that we were a thing or about to become a thing or whatever," Robin says, like that explains anything.

"Right," he says, not quite getting what she's getting at.

Dustin knows better now and has stopped bothering them about it, stopped asking Steve when he's going to finally ask Robin out. It only took a million years, but he thinks Dustin gets it now.

He still lets Robin sit up front out of habit - and because Steve refused to start the car the one time Dustin tried to bully his way up front with Robin after figuring out they would never be a 'thing'.

"You know he still kind of idolizes both of you and now that you're, you know-" Robin says trailing off.

Steve lost the thread a little bit, but he nods. "Sure, sure," he says.

Now that he and Eddie are friends, Dustin has stopped bugging them about about each other. Maybe Robin's right. Dustin is still just idolizing Eddie and that's why he lets him sit up front.

Steve still thinks it's weird though.

2.

The first instance Steve can remember something weird happening even before Dustin started letting Eddie sit up front was at a club in Indianapolis.

Robin's sitting in between him and Vickie in the booth, talking about her classes this semester, when she stops short.

"Rob?" Steve asks, and then waves a hand in front of her face when she doesn't respond.

She snaps out of it when he boops her nose lightly. "Uh, um. Don't look, but-"

He immediately looks in the direction she was looking in when she spaced out and tries to scope out what she saw that caught her attention so hard she stopped talking. He sees the crowd of dancing people in his line of sight, but he doesn't see anything out of place.

"I said don't look!" she snaps at him and he turns back to her.

"What? I don't see anything!" he says, feeling chagrined at her snapping at him like that. "You can't say 'don't look' and expect me not to look."

"Just- Eddie's, like, dancing on someone right now," she says, tone almost apologetic.

Steve fails to see what's so special about that. Eddie's always hooking up with someone when he and Steve come out together. He doesn't even think it's the first time Robin's seen it, so he isn't sure why she's so shocked. Vickie has a sympathetic look on her face when Steve glances at her to see if she thinks it's weird that Robin is bringing this up.

"Okay?" he says, voice lilting high at the end like a question.

"And you're okay with that?" Robin asks, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Uh, should I not be? He's always hooking up when we go out," he says, looking back over and yep - he's got his tongue down some guy's throat on the dance floor, the guy's hands gripping Eddie's ass to bring their hips together. Steve feels a ribbon of want float through him - it's been a while since he hooked up with someone.

"So, you've got like an arrangement where you can hook up with other people?" Robin asks, confused.

And Steve is also confused. The way she says 'arrangement' like it has connotations that he should understand. Why would he and Eddie have even talked about hooking up with anyone?

His slightly tipsy brain tries to rationalize it - maybe she's talking about when they go out just the two of them, like if Eddie hooks up with someone, Robin's assuming Steve would be all alone. He doesn't have a problem with it - he's a social butterfly when he's drunk and even if he wasn't, Eddie running off to go dance or make out or hook up with someone gives Steve time to find someone to hook up with himself. It's not like he's ever bored when he goes out with Eddie.

So he tells her, "He can literally do whatever he wants, Bobbie."

She sips her drink and stares at him, her gaze scrutinizing, and whatever she sees must appease her because she drops it and starts talking about her courses again.

When he remembers that conversation the next day, all he can think about is how bizarre Robin was acting.

3.

The next weird occurrence he can remember happening, he didn't even find out until after the fact that something was awry.

He's on vacation with most of the older crew, staying at a house near the ocean, just a small little bungalow, for the week that they're in California.

When Steve and Eddie go to drop their suitcases off in the room Nancy shuffles them towards, they pause.

There's only one bed.

He and Eddie look at each other and Eddie says, "Maybe all the rooms have one bed?"

"Yeah, yeah, probably," he says, dragging his suitcase to the far side of the room.

"We probably shouldn't say anything, right?" Eddie asks, later, before they all head out to the beach. "Like, about the room?"

Steve thinks about it. He knows Nancy is the one who got the keys to the house through her parent's friends and she got here earlier than them and scoped out the place. If there was another option to them sharing the same bed, Nancy would have told them. "Yeah, I mean. It's fine, right? You don't have a problem sleeping next to me?"

Eddie shakes his head. "Oh, of course not. I'm good sharing if you are."

"Yeah, it's no problem," Steve says. He kind of can't remember the last time he shared a bed with someone other than Robin when she stays over at his apartment sometimes.

"Okay, then we'll just. Keep it to ourselves. Besides, I feel like Nancy would skin us if we tried to complain about a place we aren't even paying for," Eddie says with a grin. The perk of Nancy's parent's friend having a vacation house is that even though it's a little small, they let them use it for free. And it's empty because they only use it when it's winter in Hawkins.

"She one hundred percent would," Steve agrees, so they drop it and don't bring it up. Too few beds isn't the end of the world.

Waking up with Eddie's arm firmly wrapped around his waist is fine, nice even. If Steve turns off the alarm that woke him, snuggling back into the embrace, making them both late for breakfast when they finally do wake up, that's no one's business but his own.

-

It's later, after they're home, that Eddie stops by and tells him about the extremely bizarre conversation he had with Nancy the last day there.

He says, "So something weird happened on vacation and I don't know what to make of it and I'm only telling you because you're the only other person it affected," as soon as Steve opens the door.

"What happened," Steve asks, instantly worried. He lets him in and Eddie starts pacing in the living room. Steve goes to sit on the couch.

"So, that last day on vacation, Nancy asked me to come sit on her suitcase because it wouldn't close with all the souvenirs she bought. I went into her and Jonathan's room and there were two beds," Eddie says, stopping in place to look at Steve to gauge his reaction.

His eyebrows shoot up. "Oh," he says. He's really not sure what to make of that either.

Eddie starts pacing again.

"Yeah. So I asked her why there were two beds in their room, but not two beds in our room - kind of put my foot in my mouth if I'm being honest. I didn't mean to just blurt it out, but then she said 'we were just trying to make sure everyone was comfortable'," he says, inflecting his voice higher to mimic Nancy.

"What the hell does that mean?" Steve asks, trying to wrack his brain and see if he remembers her telling him anything about her and Jonathan's relationship being shaky. He thought they were good. There were some rocky times before Vecna, with the distance and everything, but once they were both in the same place again, things seemed to smooth out between them. They've been happy together for years as far as he could tell.

"Exactly!" Eddie says, finally coming to sit on the couch next to him. "I literally asked her what does that mean? Because I had no idea. Still have no idea. She said 'what? It's not like you have a problem sharing with Steve', which honestly something about her tone made me feel like I was stepping on her toes, so I just dropped it. But I can't stop thinking about it. Are she and Jonathan okay?"

"As far as I know," Steve says. "That's so weird. But if there is something happening between them, it would make sense that they'd call dibs on the one room that has two beds. I gotta talk to her and see what's going on."

"Don't, like, tell her I told you or anything," Eddie says to him. Steve still thinks it's hilarious that Eddie is patently afraid of Nancy and her guns, which are mostly retired and locked up.

"'Course not," he says. "I'll just ask how they're doing the next time we hang out. I hope it's something they can get through at least."

"Yeah," Eddie sighs. "If they don't make it, how are the rest of us supposed to have a chance?"

Steve does ask Nancy about it later, just casually asks how she and Jonathan are doing.

She kind of narrows her eyes at him and says they're fine, but her voice is suspicious like she isn't sure what he's getting at. He drops it because he's also a little afraid of her.

The entire situation just leaves him confused, though.

He doesn't bring it up to Nancy again, but he does talk to Robin about it because his conversation with Nancy left a weird feeling in his chest.

"Eddie told me Nancy and Jonathan had separate beds on vacation," Steve blurts out, trying to go for casual, but absolutely failing.

She looks over at him with a weird expression on her face and says, "Yeah, I thought you knew that? It was just how it all shook out. Nancy just wanted everyone to be comfortable." And those words are eerily similar to what Eddie told him Nancy said about it.

He asks, "What do you know?"

"What do you mean?" she counters.

"You know something," he says, narrowing his eyes. "Are she and Jonathan alright? I tried asking her, but I felt like she was gonna bite my head off."

"They're fine," Robin says. "Nancy and Jonathan were just taking one for the team."

Steve's still so confused.

Robin must see the confusion on his face because she grabs his hand and says, "Look, we don't really ever talk about it, and that's totally fine by the way, but we all just want you to be happy."

Steve isn't sure where that came from or what it has to do with Nancy and Jonathan, but he's touched that his friends want him to be happy, he supposes.

4.

It's when he and Eddie get an apartment together that Robin brings up the thing she said at the club, jogging his memory of that bizarre night.

She's helping him unpack his room, putting stuff in the drawers, leaving space in some of them like she expects half of his wardrobe to be filled with something else. He thinks it's just another one of her weird quirks. Does she keep yarn for her knitting projects in half of her dresser or something?

He's hanging some shirts and she's folding his jeans when she blurts out, "You know, you don't have to let him 'do whatever he wants' just because it's what he wants, right? You're allowed to have a say in it too, you know."

It takes him a minute to realize who she's even talking about and even longer to realize she's referring to the conversation they had at the club years ago now.

"What- Eddie?" he asks confused. She nods, so he asks, "Why, because we live together now and that should, like, change something?"

Robin sighs, setting the folded jeans in the drawer. "I just mean, this doesn't exactly seem like the type of thing you'd be into. You've never mentioned wanting-"

He cuts her off, and says, "I mean, it's not like I don't also hook up with people when we go out."

That shuts her up for a solid minute. He watches as she processes it and almost wants to roll his eyes. His friends really think he has no love life whatsoever, huh?

He knows he hasn't dated anyone in a long time, but he's fine hooking up with people when he and Eddie go out sometimes. He can't say he doesn't miss having someone, or being in a relationship, but he's fine for now. He's still young, he still has time, you know?

Robin looks at him and says, "Okay. Okay, if that's something you want. Only if it's what you want, though. Don't just let Eddie talk you into something you don't want to do. Don't let him walk all over you."

"Yeah, of course," he says easily. "And if you're worried about us bringing people back here and it causing tension or whatever, we have rules in place and everything."

Robin says, "That- that's good! Rules are good."

'Rules' might be stretching it, but they did talk about guests not staying for longer than one night and trying to keep it down when they do have guests and that's good enough for Steve.

Luckily, Robin seems content to let him drop the subject and talk about how they're thinking of decorating the living room.

5.

The invitation comes in the mail.

Max popped the question - surprising Lucas, who had been agonizing for weeks over how to propose - a few months ago.

They knew the invitations were coming. Max told him over the phone that they'd be coming soon and that she expected them to send back an RSVP even though she already knew they'd be coming.

Steve checks the mail and is surprised to find just one invitation addressed To Steve & Eddie.

He takes the mail inside and shows the invitation to Eddie, who's eating his breakfast, still a little bleary-eyed and soft from sleep.

He drags the chair at the kitchen table closer to Eddie's chair and drops into it as he watches Eddie frown at the envelope in his hands.

He looks at Steve and asks, "Just the one came?"

Steve nods and Eddie opens the envelope to pull out the invitation.

They look over the invitation and Steve notices the RSVP section doesn't have options to add a plus one for either of them.

"Wow," Eddie says, dragging the word out. "None of our friends think either of us would manage to convince someone to come with us to the wedding, huh?"

Steve hums in agreement. He knows Robin, Dustin, El, and Erica helped Max and Lucas with the invitations and no one saw an issue with this one.

"God, are we both so extremely single that not one of our friends thinks we could find a date?" Steve asks, putting his head in his hands.

"Truly and deeply so fucking single, dude," Eddie says, rubbing a hand over Steve's back to lament with him.

+1.

"Hey, can we talk?" Eddie asks him after dinner one night and Steve's heart immediately starts beating out of his chest.

That phrase, even uttered by a friend, out of blue, makes him think something is wrong. He has the irrational thought that he's about to get friend-broken up with or that maybe Eddie wants to get his own place or something, which would really fucking suck.

They've lived together for a long time and are kind of co-parents to a cat now - it would just be a supremely inopportune time for Eddie to suddenly decide he wants out.

Eddie must see the anxiety in his expression because he quickly says, "No, it's nothing bad. It's just- it's actually something good, I'm hoping."

"Uh, okay," Steve says, wringing his hands a little with worry.

Eddie takes a deep breath and says, "So you know how I haven't really been interested in going out or hooking up lately?"

Steve nods, his heart finally calming down a little. Eddie hasn't wanted to go out lately, but it's fine - Steve hasn't really been all that interested either, more content to just lounge around the apartment with Eddie than to go out and try to meet new people.

"It's because there's someone I'm kind of interested in right now, but I'm not sure if he likes me back. It's a close friend, so I've been debating whether or not to say anything because I don't want to screw things up if he doesn't feel the same," Eddie says.

Steve's eyebrows furrow trying to think of who Eddie could be into. The thought that he might be into Jeff or Grant or Gareth, one of his closest friends, makes something in Steve's stomach swirl. He's not sure he likes that. Eddie dating a close friend, moving out to move in with him, sharing a life with him - that leaves a bad taste in Steve's mouth.

But it's Eddie - and Eddie deserves to be happy - so he says, "I think if you like someone, even a friend, you should tell him. If he's into guys, I mean. He'd be a fool to say no to you, whoever he is."

The smile that lights up Eddie's face is a little painful to see for some reason.

"I was hoping you'd say that," Eddie says.

Steve expects Eddie to get up and leave, to go find whoever it is he's into, but he stays put, on the couch next to Steve.

He reaches out and takes one of Steve's hands in his, still looking at him, like he's waiting for something.

Thoughts churn through his brain, first wondering why Eddie would hold his hand when he's apparently in love with one of his friends, and then realizing that he's probably also in the category of people Eddie considers a close friend and then-

Oh.

"Me?" Steve whispers, eyes wide.

That smile is still there, fond and happy.

"You," Eddie says, squeezing his hand.

"But why though?" he blurts out.

Eddie laughs. "We kind of share a life together, dude. We have a cat together and a home. And like, I don't think I've ever wanted anyone the way I want you, so there's also that."

Steve looks at him and thinks about their friendship up until this point, thinks about them deciding to move in together, to keep the stray cat Eddie found, the natural stop to them going out to clubs and bars in favor of staying in together and curling up on the couch.

He thinks of waking up for a week straight on vacation with Eddie's arms wrapped around him, feeling safe in his arms.

He thinks about the feelings that wrap around his heart and squeeze when he looks at Eddie sometimes.

He thinks about Eddie's hand in his right now.

He squeezes his hand back.

"I did say whoever you were into would be stupid to say no to you," he says.

"You did say that," Eddie says. His cheeks are a little flushed and Steve is overcome with the urge to pepper kisses all over them.

He scoots closer on the couch and says, "I meant it."

Eddie leans in closer and says, "I want to kiss you, but I want to be sure that we're on the same page. Like, it's not just about wanting to fuck you, which I do by the way-"

Steve interrupts and says, "I mean, I kind of got that when you said you didn't want to ruin your friendship if I didn't feel the same."

"Shut up, I'm trying to confess my love to you," Eddie says.

"Love?" Steve teases.

The blush on Eddie's face deepens, spreading down his neck. "Kind of. I mean, I've known you for how long now? I think it's kind of impossible to know you and not love you."

There's heat prickling behind Steve's eyes, embarrassingly enough. "I'm gonna kiss you," he says, instead of addressing how that one line has absolutely swept him off his feet.

He pushes closer, closing the small distance between them, getting his mouth on Eddie's for the first time.

Eddie sighs against his mouth, this pleased little sound that lights Steve up from the inside. He wants to kiss Eddie until he's dazed with it, wants to hear all the noises Eddie can make, wants to draw them out of him with his mouth and his hands.

Eddie kisses him and kisses him and kisses him until his mouth feels tender under Eddie's.

He pushes Steve backwards on the couch to lay on top of him, his hips in the cradle of Steve's thighs. He keeps kissing him as he settles his weight on top of Steve, their bodies pressed flush together.

They lick into each other's mouths for a long minute, just tongues tasting each other and mouths moving together.

Steve is working up the courage to touch Eddie, to put his hands on him, when he hears him hiss in pain. He pulls away from Eddie's mouth and sees Trick clawing her way up Eddie's arm to get on the couch.

Eddie sits up and pulls her off his arm and deposits her on Steve's chest. She immediately steps on his windpipe in an attempt to curl up near his head.

"God, your daughter is so mean to me," Steve says as he moves her off his neck.

"To you?" Eddie asks, looking at his arm to make sure he's not bleeding. "It was my arm that she clawed."

Eddie's still perched between Steve's legs, but with Tricky on the couch, there's no way they can go back to making out.

And-

"I have to tell Robin," Steve says.

Eddie grins at him and asks, "Immediately after our first kiss? You're gonna run over to her place?" There's no judgment in his voice and that makes something in Steve's chest feel tender - that Eddie knows how he is with Robin and isn't weird about it.

"Yeah, it won't take long. I'll be back before you know it." Steve watches as Eddie climbs off him and adjusts himself in his pants. He covers Patricia's ears and says, "Trick won't like it, but when I get back, we can lock her out of the bedroom so she can't interrupt us next time."

"Oh yeah? And what are we gonna do 'next time'?" Eddie asks.

"Whatever you want," Steve says, watching the flush return to Eddie's face.

He bites back a grin and says, "Hurry back. I'll, uh, I don't know. I'll get myself ready or something."

Heat floods Steve's veins. "You gonna be waiting for me with a rose in your mouth when I get back?" he teases, trying to dissipate some of that heat.

"I think you're the roses boyfriend, not me."

"Boyfriend?" Steve asks, standing up from the couch.

"Boyfriend," Eddie says, cupping his jaw and kissing him again. It's easy to get swept up in it, the feeling of Eddie's mouth moving against his, the feeling of Eddie's hands on his waist.

He pulls back from the kiss with a slick noise and says, "I'll be back in like twenty minutes."

Eddie nods and lets him go.

Steve grabs his keys and heads over to Robin and Vickie's apartment where he knows Robin will be.

"Bobbin," he calls out as soon as he opens the door to her apartment.

"In here," she calls back from the kitchen.

He rounds the corner of the kitchen and says, "I'm pretty sure I'm in love with Eddie."

He watches several emotions pass over her face, none of them excitement, and deflates a little bit.

She says, "Okay?" like it's a question, like she's confused.

"Like, we're dating now and I'm. We like each other and I'm pretty sure it's more than that for both of us," he say, hoping to get some kind of reaction from her.

"I don't understand," she says.

"What's not to understand? Eddie and I- we're together now," he says, in case she didn't get it the first time.

Robin squints at him and says, "Okay, but you've never wanted to talk about it before. What's changed?"

"What do you mean, what's changed? We kissed and he said he was confessing his love to me. I thought you'd be happy?" His chest feels a little tight at the thought of Robin not approving. He really thought she'd be happy.

"Did you, like, break up and not tell me? Why would him confessing his love to you warrant a house call? Where is this coming from?" she asks, and Steve's moment of hurt is replaced with a deep sense of confusion because they are somehow not on the same page about this.

What the hell is she talking about?

"Rob, what do you mean break up?" he asks, feeling off-balance.

"I mean, you and Eddie have been together for years nowso I'm not sure what you're talking about." She looks in his eyes and then lights up. "Oh, are you trying to tell me you're exclusive now? That's exciting!"

Steve just stares at her for a minute, memories of the weird things his friends say to him and Eddie and the weird things that happen coming rushing to the surface. The weird conversations he's had with Robin over the years, feeling like they were talking about two different things. The first vacation where they shared a bed together even though there was a room with two beds, and how it happened again the next time they all went on vacation together. Dustin letting Eddie sit in the front seat of his car. The one, singular wedding invitation.

He's not even sure how to broach the fact that his friends all apparently thought he and Eddie have been together for years, but he says, "Eddie and I weren't dating before now. We literally just got together. We, like, literally just had our first kiss less than fifteen minutes ago."

"That's not funny, Steve. You guys have been in each other's pockets for closing in on five years now," Robin says, coming to sit on a bar stool at the kitchen island. "You, you live together and have a cat together."

He can see her mentally going through all the things she thought about them as he comes to sit next to her.

He gently says, "We weren't together before. We were only friends before today. I'm not sure what we did to make you think that we were together, but you know I'd talk to you about anyone I was dating, even Eddie."

"It's not just me!" Robin says, looking at him again with a piercing stare. "It's everyone! We all know. Or we thought you were together. I'm so confused. How is it possible that you've never kissed before? Like, wait a minute."

She stops talking and puts her head in her hands.

"What are you doing?" he asks her when she doesn't say anything for a couple minutes.

She pinches the bridge of her nose as she says, "I'm trying to channel my memories. Because there has to be a time where I asked you point blank if you were seeing Eddie and you said yes."

"I can guarantee you won't find that memory. Because it doesn't exist. Because Eddie and I weren't dating. Until now," he says.

"You went to Max and Lucas' wedding together!" she says, looking at him triumphantly.

"Not really," he says. "We thought everyone just thought we were both terminally single or something and that's why they sat us together."

Robin smacks her hand against her forehead. "This makes no sense to me. Wait, I asked you if you were in an open relationship before! We talked about it at the club and again when you moved in together. How do you explain that?" she asks.

"That time at the club, I thought you were talking about him ditching me to hook up. It didn't bother me. That's literally all I said. Not that we were in an open rela- wait, you really thought I'd be in an open relationship with someone?"

"I know! It never made sense to me! You're like the most monogamous person I know," Robin says. "Okay, I get that we crossed wires there, but what about when you moved in together? I talked to you about it then too. You said you had rules about hooking up."

He can see how saying that might have been misleading. He says, "I meant like, rules about keeping it down, not about us dating and hooking up with other people." He feels a headache coming on.

Robin looks just as exasperated as he feels. She looks like she's grasping at straws when she says, "You're always together and you touch each other all the time. When I've seen you cook together, you're always bumping his hip or hand-feeding him extra ingredients."

"We live together, of course we found a groove cooking together." he says.

"A groove, okay," she says, rolling her eyes. "But even before then, you were always hanging out."

"Because he's my closest guy friend? Closest friend in general other than you," he says, still so unsure how he missed his entire friend group thinking they were together.

Steve doesn't know how this happened - how all his friends could have thought they were together when he didn't even know how he felt about Eddie until today. How could he have missed this?

But listen.

Steve has never claimed to be a smart man.

If anything, he thinks Eddie should have caught on long before he ever did, so he's holding strong that it's not his fault he didn't see the signs. If Eddie couldn't see them either, how the hell was Steve supposed to be able to?

"And now you're boyfriends," Robin says, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"And now we're boyfriends," he agrees.

She grins over at him and says, "That's the first time you've said the b-word. This is the first time we've talked about it and you said the b-word. You really weren't dating before now."

He shakes his head. "We really weren't. And I seriously can't believe you ever bought me saying we were in an open relationship. It's like you don't know me at all," he says with a sniff.

"No, I was extremely confused about it, but you were happier with him than anyone else I've ever seen you with, so it didn't matter what I thought, you know?"

Steve's face smooths out at that and his heart melts a little. He loves her so much.

He hugs her to his side and she playfully shoves him away.

"I can't believe I've had it wrong - we've all had it wrong - this whole time. The more I think about it, though, the more it makes sense that you weren't together. Like, I expected you to be talking about him all the time, but you never really gushed about him to me. At first, I thought it was because it was your first boyfriend, you know?" she says.

He nods. He can get that. What he can't get is- "You were okay with me not talking about him, sure. But you really think I wouldn't kiss a guy I was dating in front of you? Or hold his hand?"

Robin shrugs and runs a hand over her forehead like she's getting a headache from thinking about it. "I thought you were just shy at first. Again, the boy thing. And then it was just habit not to or maybe Eddie wasn't into PDA- I was just guessing. And, I, everyone thought it, so it's not just me. You guys literally adopted a cat together, how were we supposed to take that any other way?" she asks in an exasperated tone.

"She's Eddie's, technically."

"You're telling me Patricia's not your daughter?" Robin asks.

"No, she is. But Eddie's the one that found her, so I'm just her step-dad," he says.

Robin stands up from where she's seated and says, "See! You say shit like that all the time and expect us not to think you're dating him?"

He winces. "Yeah, I kind of see it now. Well, good news is that we are dating now and I'm gonna go home and fuck him about it."

Robin rolls her eyes. "Christ, I can't believe I ever thought you could be dating him and be anything other than like that about him."

"Oh Robbie, when we come up for air, you're gonna wish we weren't like that about each other. Apparently, we've got like five years of PDA to make up for," he says with a grin.

[reginnaofallwaters]

☆ HONKAI STAR RAIL

duckin' (boothill x gn!reader)

tw: none

additional: hint of forbidden love, a lot of censored cursing tbh

a/n: i'll proofread this when i wake up lol. i just had an idea and i needed to do word vomit before i forget all of it <//3 anyway hi :)

A relationship between human and cyborg.. How did that even work?

That was the question you always heard when the people of your planet met your boyfriend.

Granted, cyborgs were, in a way, still human. Not completely for sure, but still human. They had human feelings, human desires, human minds. It just so happened they had a body of steel and metal. There was no denying, however, that cyborgs felt.. a little inhuman sometimes. Their bodies was one such example, the steel often glinting underneath the light. Often times, they had.. "unique" features that weren't present in normal humans. Some had retractable arms, extended legs, and even extended—

Let's not go there.

Point is— cyborgs weren't quite human. Their unique features would make regular humans fear them. But, hey, this was the whole damn universe, of course there'll be the occasional weirdo or two with the sheer amount of planets that littered the whole, wide galaxy (I mean, Planet Screwllum literally exists), but that's to be expected.

Anyway, where were we? Right. Unique features.

For one, your boyfriend, a cyborg named Boothill, had this fun, little tech embedded in him called the Synesthesia Beacon. It was a translator device that allowed one's thoughts and consciousness into a language the receiver could understand. In this case— you.

Oh, and it was so, so hilarious.

And it also just happened that someone tinkered with his Synesthesia Beacon (Aeons knew who but a part of you thanks them for it). As thus, any fun curse words he wished to say were basically censored.

"That fudging idiot!" Boothill hissed lowly under his breath. "Can't forking believe that someone messed around with my Synesthesia Beacon. How the heck did they manage to do that anyway?"

You bit back a laugh and attempted for a gentle smile to hide your smirk. That obviously failed with the way Boothill shot you a warning glare.

"Ya sure ya weren't behind this, darlin'?" He plopped himself onto the seat next to you, cold, mechanical arms immediately wrapping around your waist like it belonged there. The thought made you a little happy. Just a little, of course. "Maybe ya did this to mess with me, hm?"

"I would never," you retorted with a chuckle. "I can't even trust myself with tinkering with elaborate machinery or whatnot, what made you think I'd have the balls to mess yours up?"

"Hah. Fair enough," he replied. "Still. Look at me. I sound like a character from those duckin' kid shows."

Boothill's face contorted, an unpleasant sneer forming on his lips at the realization that a simple 'damn' got censored too. God, that expression was hilarious.

"Pfft—" You really, really couldn't hold it back for much longer— "Duckin', huh?"

"Sweetheart, ya know I love ya, so spare me the laughin' and just don't for the love of frills— The fork?! Frills? Frills? Are you friggin kiddin' me right now? That friggin' son of a birch, I swear."

You laughed silently as he continued to rant on (Read: Attempt to cuss) with no end. You shifted in your place to face him, gently removing his grip on your waist. Once you've faced him, you gently cupped his cheeks, eyebrow raised.

Boothill stopped.

You always had that effect on him. One simple touch was all it took to rid him of all of his anger. It didn't matter whatever shit he was worrying about, the moment you touched him with a knowing glint in your eye, he immediately went quiet each time. His shoulders relaxed, obsidian eyes softening, and the deep frown on his face easing into a neutral line.

"You calmed down much more quicker this time," you hummed, thumb gently tracing his cheek. "Color me surprised."

"Duh, because it's ya, sweetheart," he murmured in reply, nuzzling further into your touch. "Don't know how ya do it, but ya always make me feel calm. I like it."

You didn't reply this time, your other hand reaching out to remove the hat atop of Boothill's head and placing it aside. Your fingers threaded itselves through his long, black and white locks, brushing aside the occasional tangle. His hair wasn't soft and perfect by any means but.. you didn't mind.

You still recalled the way your friends and family were.. rather concerned for you once they learned of your relationship with Boothill. In your planet, cyborgs, mechanical, and inorganic life forms weren't exactly welcome. It was taboo to even interact with one. Yet, you went ahead and got yourself a cyborg boyfriend anyway. Of course, they would be concerned.

Putting his whole "cyborg" origin aside, Boothill's personality and position as a Galaxy Ranger was something to.. definitely worry about. Galaxy Rangers were known for being lone travellers throughout the universe. Rarely do they travel in groups unless subduing an evil that a Ranger couldn't deal on their own. Wouldn't you be just abandoned? Be neglected? Those were the words of your loved ones.

Boothill wasn't like that in the slightest. Despite his outgoing and unrestrained personality, he made sure to never leave you alone for too long. Made you sure were happy first and foremost. Wasn't that enough? Wasn't him doing his best enough?

As you gaze into his eyes, you smiled again.

Yes. It was definitely enough.

"I love you," you said.

"I love you too, sweetheart," he said in turn. "Too duckin' much."

"..Pfft. Duckin'."

"I take it back. I don't love ya anymore."

"Hey!"

So, how did a relationship between a human and a cyborg work?

You don't know. It just did. To your planet, it was a taboo. To you, it felt right. It didn't matter to you one bit. In the end, Boothill being a cyborg did not matter.

And wasn't the most important thing here was love? You love him. He loves you.

That alone was enough.

[siriusleee]

Like Blood on Iron | Part 4

Historical Executioner AU

Summary: The executioner has always been an enigma to you - drawing you in. His sword drawing a line in the dirt as he made his way to the village center, and leaving back to his cottage on the outskirts of town. However, your curiosity can't stop the future your family has planned for you.

Warnings: smut, female x male sex, blood, death, decapitation

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: Three very important updates for you guys, please read:

My tag list has gotten way longer than I'd ever expected it to get. Honestly, I thought I'd have like 3 readers and that's it. It is taking me almost an hour to get everyone tagged, update the tag list, and go back to old posts and comment to people who Tumblr won't let me tag. Because of this I will no longer be doing a tag list. In an effort to make this easier on myself and get these posts out faster, please subscribe to my Ko-fi page OR enable notifications for when I post. Subscribing to Ko-fi costs nothing, and I do not expect you to send me any money. It's just the one page I have that I can send out quick updates.

However, I am currently super poor. For anyone that doesn't know, I am an English Literature teacher. This year I moved from middle school to high school, and buying all the supplies that I need for this new grade level is killing me. I am working at a part-time job to afford it, but if you can and want to, I'd love it if you donated. I just bought $40 worth of glue sticks; it's very expensive. You can donate through my Ko-fi. Thank you to @gazs-blue-hat and @devcica for donating to my wisdom teeth surgery - I just made the first payment; I love you guys.

I did not edit this. I literally finished and am hitting post; school starts tomorrow and the first 3 weeks are so exhausting, I will be going to bed at 4 p.m. each day. So I wanted to get this out to you. Adamantine Chains will have a new chapter posted tomorrow. If you see any egregious errors, please point them out and I will fix them. previous chapters + future preview: - one - two - three - preview

The sound of Lily's soft breath in your ear tries to lull you to sleep, tries to force your jaw to relax but you can't. For the first time since your outburst with Jonathan, Lily had crept into the bedroom the two of you used to share. She had curled into your side; her breathing wasn't even before the door cracked open again and Maggie snuck in to sandwich Lily between yourself and her.

Lily's hair tickles your shoulder as you keep your eye on the window - the warmth is fading faster each night, but when you tried to close it before you went to bed you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You needed the feeling of the cool air in the room. 

"Are you going to watch?"

Maggie's voice is so quiet it seems to get carried away by the wind. The bed shifts as she turns to look at you over the crown of Lily's head peeking above the covers. You turn, fingers brushing Lily's hair out of your way. In the darkness, Maggie's eyes gleam at you. 

"I don't know. He told me not to, but I think Father will make us."

Maggie breathes in sharply - once - just enough for you to know whatever she's about to say angers her.

"I think Father is making everyone go. Why did he tell you not to go?"

You want to tell her his name - as much as you know - is Ghost. To call him by his name, but you keep that information tucked close to your chest. 

"I don't know; he didn't say."

The conversation hangs in the air between the two of you, floating with the dust that blows in from the windowsill. Maggie's eyes burn across to you before she rolls back away from you, her hair dark against the pillow, curling down her neck. Mirroring her you roll away, eyes focused on the silver starlight you can see out the window.

You awake to soft hands shaking you awake; through your sleep you see Mother pressing one finger to her lip. Her eyes say it all to you - it's time. You slip out of bed leaving the warmth of Lily behind as the cool morning washes over the bare skin that shows from your nightgown. Mother hands you a dress, a thick black one. The same one you knew Maggie wore two years ago when Father's mother died. 

You pad out the room behind her, trying not to wake Lily up. You let the bedroom door shut softly behind you before you speak.

"I have to go?"

"Lily is staying behind with the Morris girls. Your father expects the rest of us to be there." Mother's voice is tight; she's already dressed in a black dress, simple and loose fitting. She refuses to make eye contact with you as she speaks. "I will be downstairs. You have to be dressed soon."

You dress quickly, ducking back into the room to grab your boots and underdress. Back in the hallway, Maggie crosses you, dark purple shadowing under her eyes - you expect the same exhaustion to be painted across your face. 

The temperature feels twenty degrees colder downstairs; you wrap your arms around yourself. Father is absent from his place at the table. A single slice of toast sits in front of Maggie, the neatest nibble taken from one corner. You drop down across from her and neither of you speak. 

A knock at the door jolts your heart - you shove away from the table before Maggie can. On the other side stands Mrs. Morris and her two daughters, still in their sleeping clothes and barely awake. Without her having to ask, you take one of the girls from her; Mrs. Morris follows you quietly to your bedroom where you tuck both girls in beside Lily. They fall asleep almost immediately.

On your way out of the room, you shut the window, pulling the latch down so that they can't see outside.

You wait at the dining table with Maggie; Mother and Mrs. Morris speak quietly in the kitchen. When the morning bell tolls, the two of them emerge out of the kitchen. You and Maggie follow behind them, pulling your cloaks off the hook by the front door when you pass by. You wish instead to have Ghost's cloak, the heavy and warm scent of him enveloping you instead of the cold wool you wrap around your shoulders. 

The four of you fall in line with the rest of the village, letting the wave of bodies push you toward the town center. Each step you take is heavier, harder to take than the one before. Ghost's voice, warning you not to come, not to watch, rings in your ear with a high-pitched drone that grows louder with each moment. The square is almost full whenever you arrive; you let yourself get pushed away from your Mother and Maggie until you're situated near the far side of the square, right where Ghost will first walk in.

The crowd tries to situate themselves as the council shuffles onto the platform. Your father stands at the back, face pale and empty. Even from this distance, you can see the tremor in his hands as he walks. Behind him, shackled in heavy iron chains, Uncle Henry walks up the platform escorted by two men you've never seen before. His face is gaunt and slack, his lip torn and blood dripping onto his chin.

The abject horror of it hits you all at once and you realize why Ghost had warned you not to come. All at once you think about the executions you had sat in your bedroom trying to strain to see, all the times you watched Ghost come up the street eager to get a glimpse of him and all the families that had been in the same place as yours is now. You think of all the times Father left his boots outside after execution and wonder if blood had splashed on them. You feel sick, horrified. You want to search out the families who had been ripped apart by the executions and beg for their forgiveness. 

A hush falls over the crowd like a velvet blanket pulled up too high. You strain past the ringing in your ears to try to hear the heavy sound of boots that you've gotten used to hearing in the midnight light. The sound is different now, leadened and sinister. Drawing your hood over your head you keep your eyes fixed on the point you know Ghost will emerge from. 

He seems to dwarf everyone in the crowd when he arrives, sword glinting in the early morning sunlight. You're torn between trying to press closer to him and pulling away as the thought of what he's about to do courses through you. He walks slowly, regret heavy in each of his steps as he mounts the platform. 

The head councilman speaks, but you can't hear him above the roar in your ears as you watch Ghost situate himself to the side of Uncle Henry. He turns his face towards the crowd and his eyes search through every person before they land on you. He shakes his head just a fraction of an inch, and you know he's telling you to look away - to walk away before he swings his sword.

But you're rooted to the spot - you can't move as the councilman stops speaking and Ghost raises his sword, his eyes still locked on yours.

There's a moment's pause when his sword reaches its apex - a moment where you hope he'll lower it down and walk away. But the sword falls heavy; you manage to clench your eyes shut at the right second, but you still hear the heavy sound of Uncle Henry's head hitting the wood, and your mother's scream.

When darkness falls, no one stops you from walking out the front door. Father had not come home - you knew he was burying Uncle Henry somewhere, and Mother had to be carried to bed by you and Maggie. Upstairs you'd heard Lily sobbing; Maggie was the only one to witness you slip out the front door. 

The red that dripped off of Ghost's sword as he walked back home is long gone in the dust and daytime; even so, you imagine that you can see it trailing in front of you as you walk, tripping over stones in the dirt. There's betrayal here, you know, running away to the home of the man who executed your uncle, but you don't know anywhere else to go. 

Eyes peer down at you from their windows as you pass through the village, but for once you don't care if anyone runs home to tell on you. You're not sure Mother or Father would even be able to comprehend what you were doing anyway. 

Like he knew you were coming, Ghost sits on the step, hands folded neatly in front of him. He doesn't look up at you, doesn't rise until you're within touching distance. An empty glass sits at his side; without speaking, he pushes himself to a standing position, glass snagged up in his large hand. You don't wait for him to beckon you as he walks inside.

You grimace at the warmth of the whiskey as it goes down your throat. You had never liked the taste of alcohol, but when Ghost sat it down in front of you you had reached for it without hesitation. The glass is heavy in your hand.

"I told you not to come," Ghost says, lowering himself down into the seat across from you. His voice is stern, but without any judgment for you attending the execution.

"I didn't have an option." You speak so quietly, you're not sure if he hears you over the wind and the crackle of the fire. 

"You always have a choice."

"No, you always have a choice. You are a man; you don't understand what it's like to have someone dictate your entire life to you. I had no choice because my father said I had to go. And soon it won't be my father telling me what to do, but Jonathan. And I'll be shackled to a life of listening and obeying."

You shove the glass you'd drained towards Ghost, shaking your head at him when Ghost moves to fill it again.

"I'm sorry your father forced you to watch." 

"My father," you pull your tangled hair over your shoulder, running your fingers through it to distract you from Ghost's eye burning at you over his mask, "thought that if we didn't come, it would show some level of guilt. I should be thankful that he let Lily stay home, but-"

"But what?"

"But I saw what the execution did to my mother. My mother is not a weak woman, but she didn't want to go. She can't do blood - it makes her sick for days. My father told me once it had to do with something she saw as a child, but wouldn't tell me more. She never attends the executions. But he forced her, knowing she's going to be regulated to the bed for the rest of the week. And I-"

You can't get the thought out - that you are a horrible person for how excited you used to be for the executions. Ghost waits patiently, leaning back in his chair, the wood creaking underneath him. You study the patterns of scarring on his fingers as they splay across the table. They're clean, no blood and dirt crusted beneath them.

"I am a horrible person," you finally sob out, fingers pressing into your eyes to try to press the tears that threaten to come out, "I have spent months waiting for an execution to come around; all I wanted to do was see you - I didn't think about everyone that was losing their life. Or their families, or you."

"Or me?" Ghost's voice is rough; you pull your fingers away from your eyes to look into his; they're dark and unreadable. 

"I've never thought about what you must experience - doing the bidding of the council."

"I think you'll find I know more about being forced into doing things I don't want to do than you think."

The wind increases outside, the sound of leaves and sticks hitting the sides of Ghost's cabin. You wonder if it's Uncle Henry, angry with the town and determined to tear it apart. 

"How did you end up here?" The question tumbles out of your mouth, and you feel ashamed as soon as you say it. Ghost's eyes flash, his nails dig into the wood of the table. You expect him to ignore you, but he pushes his hands into the collar of his tunic, and pulls out a necklace. With a flick of his wrist, he pulls it from around his neck and flings it to you. It lands a tangled mess in front of you.

"Read it." His voice is a solid command you follow, fingers tracing the edge of the cross as you pick it up; the metal chain snakes across the grain.

"Lieutenant Simon Riley - King's Guard 141st Division - you were in the King's army?"

"I was a part of the King's Guard; we were tasked with protecting the king when he traveled or during battle. There were four of us."

"What happened to the others?"

"I'm all that remains of the 141. We were-" his voice is whiskey thick, and when he swallows, you hear the heaviness of it, "ambushed. I was not able to save them. And so my punishment for not dying with my brothers was to live out my days as an executioner."

The metal is warm against your fingers, as you trace the engraved letters of his name. Simon Riley. Thoughts swirl in your head, and he seems to read them as you reach across the table to pass the necklace back.

"In this house you can call me Simon. Outside only Ghost."

The weight of the day - of Simon's background pushes against you. The small patterings of rain begin to hit the windows as you stand, taking your glass off of the table. You leave Simon as you refill the glass, bringing an extra for him. You drink yours in one go, refilling it again before you pass Simon his. 

The corners of his eyes are tight as you step beside him, the glass held out to him. His hand wraps around your wrist, warm and electric. A stone settles in the pit of your stomach as a fire spreads across your skin from where he grabs you. 

"You drink much more and you won't be able to make it up the path home."

"Just put me under the table then."

The corners of his eyes relax, and then turn up just slightly as he takes the glass from you with the hand not holding your wrist. He keeps you close to his side as he uses the hand with the glass to push his mask up just over his nose; the edge of a ragged scar peaking out on his cheek. He downs the drink in one go and grabs the glass you'd intended for yourself before finally letting you go.

You'd never enjoyed the way being drunk had made you feel, but as the world outside Simon's cabin swirls around you, you feel nothing but the warmth of the whiskey in your veins. The rain falls slow and heavy, warm despite the cool wind that had taken over the village. You reach one hand out to let the droplets pool into your palm, the rest of you shielded by the small awning above you.

The door opens behind you, the dim firelight spilling onto the rain soaked ground in front of you. The shape of Simon wraps its shadow around you along with the musky smell of him. You watch his shadow as he leans against the doorframe.

"We could run away together."

You had thought about it for a few weeks now. It had started out as a ridiculous fantasy - the two of you riding out on horse in the middle of the night and disappearing into the forest together. It had started out innocently enough, just the two of you escaping with each other, but now -

"Where would we even go?"

Simon's voice is soft, rolling through the rain drops as it passes by you. The timbre of it makes your mouth dry, or maybe it's the whiskey.

"Anywhere. Across the sea. Somewhere just far enough that know one would know who we are."

Simon's shadow ripples; you watch his shadow as he reaches to his chest, to where you know the cross hangs. 

"You could go," he says, "but I will always be marked."

You don't know what he means, can't remember if he's told you something or not. But you let the reckless abandon that started building at you so much earlier in the day take over you. Simon's figure backed by the firelight makes your fingers itch to reach out and tangle them in the front of his tunic.

"But would you go?" You ask, voice rising and falling. "If you could, would you go with me?"

The silence stretches thin. Simon chews on the inside of his lip; the doorway groans beneath his fingers as they dig into the wood. 

"You're drunk," he finally says, the words falling from him. "And you're not happy. I should take you home." His warm hand wraps around your elbow; you jerk it back and in your drunken state stumble. You try to catch yourself, but your feet slip. Simon tries to catch you, his hands wrapping around your elbow, but your feet tangle together and the two of you fall. Simon twists, getting his body halfway underneath yours. 

The two of you land hard in the mud, your forehead clipping his chin. The two of you lay awkwardly, one of your hands on Simon's chest and the other buried in the mud. You try to push yourself up, hand slipping, to peer down at Simon lying beneath you. Mud is splattered across the exposed skin around his eyes. He reaches the hand that had wrapped around your back - the only part of him that has escaped the mud- to your forehead, fingers gently wiping away the warmth that had started to form there.

"You're bleeding."

"Is it deathly?

"I think you'll live."

He pulls his hand away, covered in your blood, and the rain washes it away slowly - the red tinge traveling down his wrist and disappearing into the hem of his tunic. You feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest as you shift so that you're straddling one of his legs. 

"Can I ask for a favor Simon?" You swallow heavily, trying to swallow down the nervousness and embarrassment that's threatening to explode out of you.

"Anything."

A red blush starts to creep up your chest as you speak, each word measured and bitten off carefully - worried that if you speak too fast, Simon will disappear.

"I won't lie and say I haven't kissed my fair share of boys. But I've never - I've always been too worried to - to do anything more."

You feel Simon's thigh tense between your legs, and the feeling tightens the knot inside of you.

"If I'm going to be forced to give myself to someone I don't want to, I want to keep something for myself. I-"

Simon's hands tighten painfully around your waist; you hadn't even realized he'd grabbed you or that your hands had snuck down so that they framed his face, your wet hair creating a curtain between the two of you and the rest of the world. 

"There are some things you can never take back - that you may regret." 

"Why would I regret you?"

Your question cracks the tension between the two of you for weeks. You collide together, the kiss frenetic, your teeth clicking against each other as Simon tangles his hands in your hair and pulling you closer to him. 

He pushes the two of you up, grabbing you beneath your thighs as he rolls and stands, pulling you up effortlessly. You wrap your legs around his waist as Simon stumbles back into the cabin. Your fingers tease the edge of his mask; Simon shakes his head and you pull them away, still worried that at any second he's going to tell you to go home. 

Your shoulder hits the doorway of his bedroom, but you barely feel it as Simon kicks the door shut behind you, darkness enveloping the two of you. This time when you reach for his mask, Simon doesn't stop you from sliding it off of him. His hair is warm and wet; your fingers catch on the tangles there. 

Simon presses your back against the doorway as he lowers yourself to your feet. You pull away from him, unable to catch your breath as your hands slide beneath his tunic. His skin is soft and scarred; you trace your fingers across a jagged one that bisects his chest. Simon's breath hitches when you trace it to his nipple, your fingers ghosting across the sensitive skin there. 

Simon lets you pull his tunic off of him, his fingers tracing the lacing on the front of your dress. He hesitates there, waiting for you to say no, to push him away.

"You've seen me naked before," you whisper, trying to loosen the tension, your fingers curling around the waistband of his pants. "No reason to be nervous now."

"It's different," Simon says, pressing a kiss to the base of your neck, tongue trailing upwards to the shell of your ear, "to think about what it would be like to touch you, and actually doing it."

His admission that he's thought about you like that - the same way you had shamefully thought of him on nights alone in your bed - sends a spear of want through you. You pull him closer, straining to reach up and kiss him again, but Simon keeps himself away.

"You can go home," he whispers in your ear, teeth nipping the sensitive flesh, "I wouldn't be angry with you. I would find no fault with you at all."

And you know he's telling the truth - if you said so at any point, he'd let you leave and wouldn't hold it against you. But you can't even entertain the idea - the instinct to wrap yourself around him, to claw at him and at yourself until the two of you are open for each other, is too much.

You reach up and place your hands over his, guiding them so that they pull at the laces of your dress, the bodice falling open. You shrug out of it, letting it pool at your feet as you kick it away. Simon's hands linger chastely at your side, fingers barely skimming your skin.

"I'm not breakable Simon."

"Of course you are," Simon sighs as you trace your fingers softly up his neck and to his cheek. His breath hitches as your fingers tease the edge of the scar you'd caught a glimpse of earlier when the two of you were drinking. You trace it, trying to map the features of his face. It ends at his hairline, a second scar bisecting it.

"It's my cross to bear." Simon's voice rumbles deep; you can feel it in your chest. "It's my mark as an executioner - the righteous hand of God."

I will always be marked, he had said earlier and you realize what he'd meant. 

Simon wraps his hands around the back of your knees; he pulls you up until you're forced to wrap your legs around his waist to keep from falling. He kisses you again, clumsy - you can feel him shaking beneath the soft skin of your hands. He pulls your hair so that your neck is exposed to him; Simon trails kisses down, nipping at your collarbone.

He's hot, his skin and mouth burning you up. You try to grind yourself against him, to get some sort of friction, but Simon's hands keep you just far enough away from him to drive you crazy. His knees hit the side of the bed and buckle; he drops you gently to the bed. The dark scent of him, and the whiskey that still pulls at you makes your head swim. 

Simon's hands are firm on your knees as he pushes them apart and pinning you down.

"If I start to hurt you-"

"Simon, please." 

He presses your thighs down harder to the bed, stopping your squirming. 

"It can hurt. If I start to hurt you, I need you to say something; I need you to promise that you will."

His fingers have inched upwards and you try to buck your hips and make the connection; Simon digs his nails into the sensitive skin of your thighs and the feeling makes you gasp - more electric than anything you've experienced before. 

"I," you swallow hard, Simon's nails scratching down you lightly pulling all the air from your chest, "I promise."

You're ashamed of the moan that you let out when his mouth finds your core, your back arching off of the bed. Simon's tongue is velvet on you, lapping at your wetness with a gentleness you wouldn't have expected from his size. 

You'd listened to other girls in the village talk about this - about their quick trysts with the boys in the village and how it felt to be pawed at. But this - this was like nothing you'd ever imagined it could be, and nothing like the girls described it as. 

Simon's hands keep your knees apart as his tongue swirls your sensitive spot; your back arching off of the bed as you grind down onto him. His fingers trace patterns in the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. When his fingers reach your wetness, you can't help but clench your knees around him, nervousness and embarrassment filling you. You had never let any of the boys you'd kissed touch you - the thought of their fingers inside of you disgusting, but the want for Simon to stretch you out is enough to make you pull away - not sure how to react. 

Simon's tongue slows as he pushes your knees back down with one arm, his mouth pulling off of you with a pop. In the absence of him you buck your hips, but he doesn't move. He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee, and when he speaks, the brush of his lips on your skin makes you shiver.

"We don't-," he swallows, heavy in the darkness, "we can stop if you want."

"No." It's a pathetic whine. You can feel his smile against your thigh, teeth nipping at your skin.

"You're going to want me to stretch you out a little."

His words pull a gasp out of you; you clench around nothing at the thought of him filling you up. Simon's hand traces your wetness gently, before he pushes in one thick finger. It burns as he pumps in and out of you; you're so tight he can barely move in and out of you. You can't tell how long it takes before the burn starts to dissipate; like he can read your body, Simon slips another finger in.

Simon works you until you're comfortable; the sounds you make are filthy. You're so wet you feel yourself dripping onto Simon's wrist. He latches onto your apex, and the feeling sends you over the edge. You come with a choked sob; you try to reach down and stop his hand, but he pushes you away and continues until you can't take it anymore. 

He pulls his fingers out of you, as you beg incoherently - but you're not sure what you're begging for. 

Even in the darkness, Simon's a shadow when he crawls up your body, lips skimming your hip bone, your stomach, your collarbone. A muscle twitches in your thigh; you can't catch your breath in the heat that radiates off of Simon as he dips his head down to kiss you. You dig your nails into his side, and buck your hips up, but he pushes them back down gently with one hand. 

Simon pulls away just enough to speak, lips brushing against your as he does.

"If you want me to stop-"

You feel crazed - the way you claw into him, trying to pull him into yourself, the way your lips crash against his, teeth clicking together in a way that would be painful any other time. Simon snakes his hand between the two of you; you jump when it brushes past your clit. You can feel yourself dripping already - wetter than you'd thought you could get. 

Simon lines himself up with your entrance, and pauses, resting his hand on your chest. His fingers stretch across the expanse of skin, calluses raising gooseflesh.

"You're shaking."

And you are; it's overwhelming - the smell of him enveloping you, the expanse of his body, hard muscle under a layer of soft downy, and being broken down by him. The thick feeling of being stretched out. 

"I'm alright."

It comes out whispered and broken, but you are. You've never felt like this; never thought that you would. You wrap one hand around this wrist at your chest and beg.

"Simon please. I can't - I," you can't get the words out, can't explain that you can't take the feeling of being empty; of being without him. 

Simon presses into you, just barely, but it's enough to make your back arch and your nails to scratch down his arm. He hisses at the feeling, teeth nipping at your earlobe. He moves slowly; the sharp feeling of him is enough to cause you to hyperventilate. On instinct, you press your hands to his chest; you can feel his desire to move faster in the way his muscles bunches beneath your touch. 

"Do I need to stop?"

"No - it's just - you're too much."

You can feel his smile, brief and small, as he presses his face into your shoulder before he bites down. Hands finding his hair, you grip tight enough that you're sure it must hurt him, but he doesn't say anything.

You can feel every inch of him stretching you out; Simon's voice is soft in your ear as he whispers to you to relax - that you're doing so well. One of his hands trace down your side, trying to soften the gooseflesh. The other pushes your hair away from your forehead, fingers pausing at your temple. 

The world pauses when he bottoms out; you can feel him in your throat - he's burning you up from the inside, his skin fire against your own. Simon's mouth his hot against your skin as he trails kissed across your neck. You know there will be marks there tomorrow - something you'll have to hide - but you don't ask him to stop; you beg him to keep going. 

"I need you to relax, my love." His soft voice in your ear makes your fingers curl against the blanket bunched beneath you. "You're too tight."

You try to relax beneath him, but you can't - you can't.

"I can't."

"Just breathe love."

You focus on the movement of his chest against yours, and try to synch your breathing with his. Simon lays his hand against your throat, your pulse slowing beneath the pads of his fingers. His tongue snakes out to trace the shell of your ear, and he rocks himself against you.

You're ashamed of the sounds that escape you, you press your hand to your mouth to try to muffle yourself, but Simon pries your hand away and places it on his shoulder.

"Don't try to be quiet."

His words cut into you, and you grind yourself against him trying to match the rhythm he's setting. 

Sweat and slick mix between your thighs; Simon pushes your knees towards your chest and the shift in angle tugs at something inside of you; you can feel yourself unraveling faster than you did earlier. Simon's nails dig into your skin as he moves faster. Your hands press on his chest, his stomach, trying to find some space to breathe, but his grip on your waist doesn't let you move.

Simon finds a brutal pace. You dip your fingers between the two of you until you can feel him pumping in and out of you; Simon moans at the feeling, nails piercing your skin hard enough to make you gasp. 

He grabs the hand you have between the two of you and guides your fingers to your apex, forcing you to swirl your fingers around yourself. 

You try to commit the feeling of him to memory: the texture of his skin, the sound of him panting in your ear, the feeling of his thumb tracing the contours of your nipple. Your second orgasm starts to break around you, and in the haze, you realize that you will never have this kind of moment with someone else.

The thought puts a knot in your throat; you pull Simon down to kiss him; he must sense your desperation as he slows down, hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you closer. 

His body shudders once and he pulls out; you feel the heat of him spill out across your stomach. The wild thought of reaching down, and taking some onto your finger to taste possesses you, but your fingers are still clutching at Simon. You can't figure out how to loosen your grip.

Simon pants between your thighs, one hand still wrapped around your neck as he shifts so that he's laying down beside you. You shuffle, kicking the blanket down beneath you until you're able to pull it up around you. 

You want to say something, anything to dissipate the air that stills around the two of you. But as Simon pulls you into his chest, anything you could think of is washed away. 

Tag List:

tag list: @silverianni, @milfs4lifee, @koi-feish, @shirabeastly, @pookie90, @ghostlythot, @hearts4sky, @crystallizedtime, @the-worlds-tempest, @myconglomerateromance, @elena-ph, @chaoticgoblindev, @pipocfamily, @canadianmilkbag, @caspertheassholeghost, @2512121morningstar, @glitterypirateduck, @elli0t3r, @clairdelunelove, @captainprice4life, @generaldestinychild, @crowsjourney, @c0pernicus, @wistfullyhypomanic, @arbesa-mind, @ray-rook, @daisyfrubies, @september-22-1996

If you are on my tag list - please read my author's note!

[inke-ri]

So I couldn't help but browse the THG tag bc those books own my whole heart. I actually check it now and again, and it's been interesting see how opinions have changed over the years, especially in regards to Gale and Peeta. Going through the evolution of them as just potential love interests to being far more complex than I could have expected has been a wild ride. Crazy how this reads different than from when I was a preteen.

That said, I wanted to give my unsolicited two cents on my boys, because though I have been enjoying the discussion on Peeta and Gale and what they mean to the story, I also feel like reducing them to Peeta = peace and Gale = war is far too simplistic... and oftentimes unfair to one or both of them.

See, I don't think Peeta and Gale are peace and war/destruction. They're compassion and indignation.

Peeta worries about the other tributes, or their families, or how to repay people like Rue and Thresh for what they did.

Gale is indignation at how the Capitol treats its citizens, it's anger at the injustice of inequality and brutality.

Both are needed in a story like THG. You can't have people like even Peeta not say something like "maybe we're wrong about keeping things quiet in the districts", you can't have him not drop the baby bomb, you can't start a revolution without Gale's indignation at the status quo. At deserving a better life but being denied it, at having your kids be mercilessly killed for literal sport.

However, if you start a rebellion and loose sight of your compassion, you end up no better than the people you're fighting against. Gale wasn't a bad person, imo. His heart was in the right place. He was flawed, yes, but so is everyone in this series. Gale, most importantly, lost sight of the line between fighting for the people he cared about and fighting against the people who hurt him.

Reducing Gale's indignation to just revenge and hatred ignores so much of what he stands for. Who hasn't seen laws passed that dehumanize people, who hasn't been angry and furious when someone is elected who fundamentally hates everything you are, who doesn't think some people need to pay for the atrocities they committed? There's a little bit of Gale in every single one of us - and it's important that it's there, because that's what gives us strength to challenge the status quo and make life better for the future generations.

But. You can't let it take over. You can't loose sight of your compassion or your empathy.

That's where Peeta comes in. Peeta is the voice in your head that worries about how many good lives will be lost when they give themselves up for this cause. Peeta is the worry about the people caught in the crossfire. Peeta is rebuilding when it's over and believing that the next generation will have a better life than your own. Peeta is being kind, even to people who may not deserve it.

And Gale... Gale looses sight of his compassion, and he doesn't realize it until it smacks him in the face when the bombs go off and Prim is gone and he's too far gone. Meanwhile, Peeta advocates for the end of the war even though it means the status quo remains - and regardless of what he believes himself, I don't think Suzanne chose him to say those lines by chance. It means both mindsets have their flaws: too kind and things that shouldn't remain will never be challenged and changed, too angry and you may loose sight of what you're fighting for.

And that's just how Suzanne uses her characters, both of them, all of them. Just look at who is with Katniss depending on the situation:

- Katniss chooses to "rebel" after Gale is brutally whipped. She kisses him.

- Katniss realizes that in order for D12 to rebel, everyone would need to be in on it, and she realizes most of them are not like her, that they're scared and she understands, emphasises with them. Peeta walks by her side.

- Katniss finally does it though, shoots the arrow at the force field, and Peeta is taken from her, it's now Gale by her side.

(You can't start a rebellion without indignation, and sometimes you HAVE to do it or things will never change, regardless of the inevitable pain that will come along.)

- Katniss is righteously angry at the Capitol bombing a hospital full of innocents to make a point. Gale remains there.

- Coin twists people's compassion into an army to fight for her own personal gain. Peeta is hijacked and looses his sense of self.

- Katniss and Gale go to District 2 and even though she tries to be like Peeta, she's still shot- reinforcing Gale's views, the person who was with her during that sequence.

- Katniss is angry at Snow, Katniss goes to the Capitol to kill him. Gale is there.

- Katniss gets in way over her head and realizes she is responsible for the death of most of her squad. She shares the lamb stew with Peeta, and later cleans his wounds.

- Finnick dies and she's at her lowest up until that point and all she wants to do is give up and give in to the anger. She kisses Peeta and begs him to stay with her.

... Claiming that Gale is destruction ignores the fact that he's with Katniss through her own moments of strength. Her desire to change things, to fight back, is as important as her compassion. Mockingjay just brutally shows you what war does to your indignation, to your compassion. How easy it is to cross a line between righteous anger and revenge, or how your sense of empathy and compassion can be manipulated into something monstrous by others, or by all the terrible, brutal, painful things you see.

How easy it is to loose yourself- and that goes for both of them.

Peeta and Gale aren't static characters, they go from representations of sentiments regarding an injust government to what happens to those feelings when an extreme situation such as war breaks out. All of that, by the way, while dealing with this duality themselves, because they are still characters who think and feel and struggle and have flaws of their own- and while I love what they stand for, I've seen too many comments that pin everything into what they mean, that they forget that Peeta and Gale are still people, they aren't perfect metaphors. They're human.

Ultimately, Katniss doesn't really choose peace. She wants peace, yes. But what she chooses is compassion. empathy. hope. There's a time and place for anger at injustice. There's a time when fighting back is the right thing to do. There are even times when you wanna give in to your despair and lash out. But if you want peace, then you have to choose Peeta, because Peeta represents what you need to focus on to achieve that peace. You have to let go of the anger or you won't ever rest. So Gale leaves, and does not come back... And yet, Katniss still has her moments of indignation, of making a stand, even as he goes - she still casts her vote at that meeting, she still shoots Coin. Katniss does not abandon that part of who she is. It's just not her main drive anymore.

So then she goes on to make the choice, every single day, to be compassionate to others. To have hope. To rebuild. Of course she chooses Peeta.

... Idk, man. These boys are so much more than what I see them so often reduced to. They're in all of us. There will be times to stand and fight, and times to show mercy and be kind. We just need to find that balance, as Katniss eventually did.

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

https://x.com/lyokangirl/status/1800137471067603338?t=aOY0BrrgBo2CnqzAQrtY4A&s=19

The whole thread 🤔🤔🤔

Disclaimer first: I looked at this tweet when I saw anon's ask super early this morning. The original tweet that started this thread has now been deleted but it was a tweet containing this image from Matta of Fact's instagram stories:

Here is a screenshot with the twitter thread responding to a tweet that posted the above screenshot. I've redacted all the usernames (personal policy) but if you go to the URL in the anon's ask, you'll see them.

(I cut the thread in half so the images would be bigger. Start on the left with the yellow user.)

If it's too difficult to read:

Yellow works close to the hospital in Matta's story (the MD Anderson Center in Houston, Texas), which is probably the best hospital for cancer treatment and research in the world and treats people from all over the world. She thinks it's unlikely that Kate is in Texas getting treatment because she's been spotted in the UK but if she is getting treatment from the US, then strict medical privacy laws prohibit medical staff from talking about her (HIPAA) but it's curious no one else (ie other patients and hotel guests - the St. Regis mentioned in the reddit screenshot is a luxury hotel chain) have seen her.

Red is talking about how Kate and the BRF don't have the same expectation of personal privacy or a social contract here in the US that they would in the UK. In other words, UK media largely doesn't run pap/bystander photos of the royal family when they're not working. That's not true here in the US. Not only would American media print those photos, most Americans wouldn't have any problem taking those photos of Kate in the first place, especially if they can make a quick buck or get social media clout.

Blue is worried about Kate and thinks this means the worst because she's trying to read between the lines. Yellow is trying to talk her out of panic.

I don't think this is true, for a number of reasons.

First, I don't trust Matta as a source. Never have, never will. She started out incredibly biased in favor of the Sussexes and while it looks like she's moved her coverage to become more neutral, I still can't shake her start as a Sussex Squaddie. As Maya Angelou said "when someone shows you who they are the first time, believe them."

Second, if it comes out that Kate, the Princess of Wales and the future Queen has abandoned the NHS or British care, she - and the BRF - can kiss the NHS charities, patronages, and support goodbye. Yes, the NHS is currently suffering and there's a whole bunch of controversy, but the royal family has stood by the NHS since the beginning. If it got out that they don't personally support the NHS...well, there's no putting that toothpaste back in the tube.

Third, yes, MD Anderson is considered one of the best, if not the best institution for cancer treatment and research in the world. They're part of the cancer moonshot initiative. People come from all over the world to use their facilities. And they send their people out to consult and teach all over the world as well. Kate, and the BRF, isn't risking her NHS support to fly halfway around the world. Especially if she's immuno-compromised, especially if she doesn't feel she is well enough or healthy-looking-enough for public engagements. Those doctors are coming to her.

Relatedly, Windsor Castle and Buckingham Palace have been used as operating theaters and medical treatment spaces before. There's no need for Kate to go halfway around the world to a hospital when literally the hospital can come to her at Windsor Castle.

Now, is it possible she could've gone to Texas anyway? Yes, very much so. But my theory is, if she went in the first place, she went only once, to learn about her cancer and what her treatment options were, and then she went back to the UK. Why do I say this?

Because simply put: she has three school-aged children and kids talk. If Kate was spending all this time in the US, those kids would've said something to someone in that school community and it would've gotten out. After all, if someone's leaking Charlotte's cricket team schedule to social media, someone's going to leak any gossip they've heard about or from the children.

At the end of the day, you can believe whatever you see and however you interpret this. For me, I choose to believe the palace at their word over nameless internet strangers and a gossipmongerer. Maybe that makes me naive but it is what it is. The palace, and William, have said that Kate is doing well and is focused on her recovery and her family. We have no reason to believe that she's anywhere except where they've said she is: with her family in Windsor. We have no reason to believe her health isn't improving and that she isn't recovering because it would have been all over William's face the last few days (the man does not have a poker face at all) and it simply wasn't there.

I know people miss Kate. I know they'd like reassurance from her personally but that's not Kate's priority right now. Her priority is reassuring her children and being with them, as it should be. Let's give her the time, space, and privacy to do what she knows is right for her, and her family, and who knows. Maybe she'll surprise us in the coming weeks.

[violetasteracademic]

Context Clues: Elriel (and removal of the BC)

Happy Elriel month! This is my first one (I think most of you know that I am only about two months old in the online fandom) and I am still REELING from the fact that apparently not everyone needed to douse themselves in cold water after Elain and Azriel's interaction in the bonus chapter (and that Az is apparently both an incel AND a fuckboy, although those are mutually exclusive and non interchangeable traits. And Elain is secretly obsessed with Lucien and just toying with Az. But I digress.)

While I personally thought the bonus chapter confirmed Elriel, and of course others felt the complete opposite, I wanted to spend some time focusing on solely the books and seeing what we have. As we know, the bonuses are just *bonuses* available in a limited number of editions, in limited countries, and limited languages. I personally read all bonus chapters, but many don't. So excluding the BC from the conversation, where did A Court of Silver Flames leave us?

Here is the final on page interaction between Azriel and Elain in ACOSF:

A charged glance that takes Elain's breath away.

Here is the final on page interaction between Elain and Lucien in ACOSF:

Elain shrinks into herself after opening a present from her mate.

Here are the previous interactions between Azriel and Elain in ACOSF:

Elain acting all shy around Azriel.

Azriel's shadows ready to throw hands over Elain's hurt feelings.

Here are the previous on page interactions between Elain and Lucien:

There are none.

However, there are references, and they are as follows:

Lucien choosing to live in the human lands despite his mate living in Velaris.

Lucien dripping with discomfort over his presence only being expected because of Elain.

Meanwhile, here is Azriel referencing Elain when she is not there:

Azriel's shadows swarming and being unable to calm down at the mere thought of something happening to Elain.

Azriel stiffening at the mention of Elain's capture, and reminding Cassian he helped rescue her.

Nesta only agreeing to scrying because she trusts Azriel with Elain, the only person who could understand other than her or Feyre.

I have always, and will always reiterate that I am personally Lucien and Gwyn positive. Maybe that's because I'm so new, and haven't been whittled down from all the rudeness yet. (literally as I was working on this post, I got an unprompted comment from an E/ucien on one of my tiktoks that they can't wait to laugh at me when she chooses Lucien. It's annoying. And it sucks. But I know all sides do it.)

I joined the space because I was so overwhelmed by the negative Elain content. By the erasure of her thoughts and feelings and experiences. Bonus content aside, I also feel for Lucien, and my shipping him with Vassa is because he blushes and laughs and relaxes around her. Because she is fiery like Jesminda, the only other female he has ever loved. I don't personally have a ship for Gwyn yet because my reading experience hasn't taken me there in the story yet!

Look, I'm still out here shipping Klaroline and TVD and The Originals went their separate ways almost a decade ago. Ships should be fun. They don't always have to be canon. I'm simply sharing that the reason I make this content for you guys is to provide some comfort to people like me, who felt overwhelmed and gaslit by all the hatred for Elain- dissertations and powerpoints dedicated to erasing her and her value and feelings- as someone who read the books and loved her, as well as her dynamic with Azriel.

I will continue to refrain from discussing the bonus chapter (in this post) no matter how SEXY it was, and how in line it is with everything already happening in the books, but I'm just trying to showcase what the experience is for book readers only, which is the vast majority globally.

Stay kind out there, and manifesting a book announcement soon! Happy Elriel month, all!

[yousaygoodbyeandisay]

The meta of Every You, Every Me final scenes is eating my brain.

So far, we have two scenes. In the second episode, the director yells cut, and we see what seems to be a bts of Top and Mick. Only it's not a bts. The camera is far away, and we are observing what happens when the director yells cut after a scene. They get their makeup fixed, and several people from the production come over. In that small snip of time, Mick (the actor) tries to open his bottle of water, and he can't. Top (the actor) grabs it and opens it for them. They were clearly filming episode 2.

Fourth episode, after a very devastating story, again, we get Top and Mick in a tent, Mick is getting a brief on what will happen next and is told he has 5 minutes of downtime before the next scene and Top is reading his script.

Some back and forth, and Mick (the actor) asks Top (the actor) to be his boyfriend. After very short deliberation, he happily says yes and teases Mick, saying he's using lines from Mr. Parinth, the name of the character from episode 2, saying if Mick was using Mr. Parinth's lines on him. (Thanks @pickletrip)

They were clearly filming episode 3 or 4.

It's layers upong layers of meta, and I can find two different takes (or both) that can be taken from these scenes.

The most cutting would be that this is a meta commentary on fan service and fan expectations on actors. Top and Mick are playing versions of themselves where they are now dating and flirting on their filming downtime. They, of course, date each other because actors can't just do and be good at their jobs. If what fans see on screen feels real, then the romance between actors has to be real too.

The softer meta take is that the actors being in love/dating is a bigger part of the concept of the show.

Literally, "Every You, Every Me". They are destined, including the actors (playing versions of themselves) playing these characters.

[yuri-is-online]

TD anon here, I do feel you on the "torture" scene with Taiga, I didn't want my last ask getting any longer lmao.

While the scene definitely made me squeal, for me personally it was undercut by the emotionally charged scene that happened immediately after with Romeo lmao. It's exactly how I felt with Frostheim too, being excited over the dance with Jin, and then immediately after we get the cigarette kiss scene with Jin and Tohma LOL. But it only makes sense, MC has only just showed up at the school, not enough time to bond, and honestly with these kinds of joseimuke games I don't have much expectations of interactions between the cast and MC so in TD she's already much more involved with the whole comic thing anyways.

Eating the Like Dove raw... was really a raw scene lol. He seems to be attracted to blood for some reason? Since he paused when MC's cut started bleeding, I think he was about to lick the blood tbh.

And yeah I do wonder if his shoddy memory has anything to do with his deal's cost. Another vibe theory time, I feel like his fear of the Like Dove might've been... ingrained in him somehow? Maybe he had a run-in before but can't remember it. The reason why I think this is because when MC met him alone, when she reminded him that she was the Honor student, his response was "Oh no wonder I didn't kill you on the spot", he literally forgot about her but his body/instinct made him aware she's someone he's not supposed to kill.... if that makes sense?

He feels like an even bigger enigma than Towa, I'm curious to know what's going on in his head in the moments he goes eerily quiet. Not to mention he's the poster boy of the game, has to be a reason. Luca feels more in line to be the poster boy but it's Taiga...

I enjoyed Haru's drunk spiel about how helpful MC is lol. Also my eyes going wide when Rui said he wants to know what she's made of too... what does that mean....... I need more Rui content, I love his blatant flirtations lol. I got a campus event with Rui, Haru and Romeo in the bar before I even read the chapter, their unexpected friendship is very cute ngl.

(sorry in case this is sent repeatedly, smth wrong with my net atm)

Generally speaking I have found tumblr doesn't post or send things twice but it sure as hell reblogs them with the same tags 42 times making me look like some sort of freak

for me personally it was undercut by the emotionally charged scene that happened immediately after

Yeah I get this. The cigarette kiss with Tohma and Jin took me off guard, but that was mostly because I thought this was an otome game? Come to think of it I don't think we've had confirmation of the whole joseimuke v otome game thing beyond the existence of the like dove and individual character affinity... Well and that when this was announced it was supposed to be an otome game. I know that the otome games subreddit has been having some, shall we say spirited? Discussions lately about how players feel about ros getting into relationships with each other. The general opinion was that a lot of times the ro x ro relationships feel more fleshed out that the ro x mc ones, and I agree. I actually stopped writing something I wanted to be an otome game because the story started shaping up to be more about the mc's mentor than them, and I personally do not think that is very fun. People do like laid back mcs, they do not like mcs who have no place in the narrative, and some writers aren't good at balancing that. TDB mc is doing pretty well when it comes to interactions with the main cast compared to something like Twisted Wonderland if what you want is explicit romance, so far it feels like Season 1 of og Obey Me! from what I remember of that game, so we'll see.

I didn't get the same level of intimacy from Romeo and Taiga as I did Jin and Tohma? But I think that's because in both cases I thought the like dove had appeared before Romeo got there and was talking to Taiga and the second scene made me think Taiga was angry at him for interrupting his "fun." Whatever that "fun" was going to wind up being because yeeeeeah he seems like he has a blood kink of some sort. I think he was going to suck on it and bite her a bit, but licking seems like a logical first step and less influenced by what's wrong with me. Like I said over here the scene with the Like Dove fascinates me... it says more about Taiga than any other character in the game that we get to see the dove twice and that when given the chance he shoots and eats it... if that isn't a metaphor for denial and emotional repression then I am not sure what is.

he literally forgot about her but his body/instinct made him aware she's someone he's not supposed to kill…. if that makes sense?

YES. I wanted to talk about this but it sort of got into conspiracy theory territory and my answer was getting long. I don't know if anyone remembers, but waaaay back in Book 1 when mc tries to escape the school she isn't able to get anyone's attention. It's like they don't see her, is that because of her curse or is it because of preventative measures put in place by the school? I want to lean towards the latter because it makes more sense BUT I also want to be delusional and say that it's part of mc's curse. There's something about Taiga's instinctual fear of the Like Dove and his comments to the mc that make me think his body knows her but his paranoia and memory issues keep him from knowing it.

This is just me writing fan fic... but Taiga is technically the first ghoul you meet. He is the poster boy of the game, he is the first person to bring mc into the main loop and tell her there's a spy. I want so badly for him to have known her at some point but to have been robbed of his memories... Romeo seems to think he is trying to forget stuff on purpose "gone off the deep end" and "escape reality" are both things he says to describe him though granted that last one was due to a misunderstanding about what Taiga was trying to do with the anomaly. Something real bad happened last year, something I feel like Taiga doesn't want to acknowledge unless he can get revenge on whoever caused it. I mentioned in another post, but I sort of want MC to have something to do with Clementia and that's why she's there at the dorm beyond it just being empty due to the clash. (I do get why Luca isn't the poster boy; he's not a dorm captain and those seem to be what the game wants to push. well them and towa lol)

Haru and Rui

Rui is a bar tender who is described as being "popular with the female students" probably because of how flirty he is ha. I love his dynamic with Haru and Romeo, just a barman and his two favorite customers shooting the shit and trying to relax. Rui is cursed to kill whoever he touches, so I think he wants to talk with MC more because he can relate to her in a very unique way. And he got gate kept from doing so by Haku in book one so he's extra curious now. I have his SR so I'll put him on my homescreen for a bit and see what voice lines I can shake out of him. For the little bit I did have him there he called him and mc "curse twins" which I thought was very cute. In a dark sort of way. The entire section at the Obscuary bar endeared me to all three of those idiots.

But especially Haru. He called Peekaboo his child this chapter too ;-; he's such a good dad. I wonder if he is going to show up next books at all? Or if it's going to be like the previous books and we'll instead see Taiga and maaaaybe Towa? Since he's friends with Zenji. Nothing to do but wait for May 0-0

[patheticrafeenjoyer]

ward and rafe both throwing money at barry (or at the ground in front of him) is something very casually sinister imo.

firstly it's important to establish the class disparity between them. we know the camerons are wealthy (big home on obx, another in the bahamas, several cars, dressings of wealth and luxury). conversely, we know barry is not (he lives in a trailer, wears clothes that are worn/older-looking, has money from dealing but obviously owes someone else for the supply). even when we look at the obx map, tannyhill is at the furthest point away from the Cut as possible could be (as deep into Figure 8 as you can get), and barry's trailer is about as far away from Figure 8 as possible (its even right on the furthest border of "livable" land in the Cut before it turns to marshes).

from the literal opposite poles that these two reside on, it draws the implication of it being The Richest Of The Rich (camerons) and The Poorest Of The Poor (barry). i do think there are certainly people poorer than barry, but that's not really the point i'm trying to make here. all i mean is that we are explicitly told/shown the class differences between barry vs. the camerons.

so, to the money throwing. in another post, i talked abt how throwing money the way the camerons do is indicative of the value they have for individual bills being significantly less than the value they have for their whole accumulated wealth. it's less than pennies to them. but before ward and rafe throw money at barry, they both have a moment where they kind of hold the money up and wave it at barry, almost tauntingly, the way you'd tease a dog with a treat.

and then, instead of handing him the money, they toss it onto the ground in front of him. again, this shows how little that money means to them. also, in throwing it on the ground, they just expect barry to bend over backwards to pick it up.

it's incredibly cruel and dehumanizing to taunt someone who can't afford to just literally toss money around with it and then make them get on their hands and knees to pick money up off the ground. there's an obvious hierarchy and power imbalance here.

when ward throws the money at barry, barry gives him shit and says "pick up my money", which ward obviously doesn't. this then creates a moment of tension and chicken between them. who will cow first? who will be the one to get the money?

in the end, it's barry. ward could've thrown that money (and more) on the ground and just walked away, and it wouldn't've made a dent in his bank account. the same cannot be said for barry. so barry gets on his hands and knees and starts picking up the money while ward stands over him, literally looking down at the humiliating scenario he's forced barry into. (and then he kicks the shit out of him but that's another post)

when rafe throws the money at barry, barry's obviously not interested in whatever rafe is trying to rope him into. and then rafe tells him "you know why [you'll do this]? because you'll do anything for money." tossing in barry's face that he will ultimately do what rafe wants so long as he pays because barry needs the money enough that he will subject himself to rafe's whims.

the money ends up in a pile on the ground, which barry once again is forced to get down and pick up. rafe throws it and walks away, like he doesn't need or care about that money (he doesn't), and like he knows that barry is in a position where he does need that money.

and yet again, barry is subjected to this humiliating act of picking up money thrown at him by someone to whom that money means nothing. it's so fucking cruel.

the conversations about class in outer banks are soooo fascinating, and honestly i wish they'd dive into it more, with more nuance. and the potential conversation about race and class would be even more fascinating. alas, these are conversations that have to come from reading between the lines. :/ such is life

[greenerteacups]

my heart aches for one Theodore Nott after reading the latest update 😭 GTC, could you tell us more about your thoughts on him, his characterizations, how you manage to write him so poetically and beautifully, and (a shot in the dark, but i'll bite) the role he'll play in books 5, 6 and 7? congrats on another chapter GTC, i love you tons 🩷

Thank you so much, friend. I love talking about Theodore Nott. I'll gladly bite on that question.

To start off, Theodore's middle name might as well be "THE FOIL," because everything about him is tailor-made specifically to Say Things About Draco Malfoy. He practically hands Draco a card saying "I AM YOUR JUNGIAN SHADOW SELF, PLEASE HANDLE WITH CARE" upon introduction. They meet when they're both fresh off the train. (Hermione beats Theo to Draco by a matter of hours; there's a ton of ways this story spins differently if minor details about the first chapters were changed, and that's definitely one of them.) Then Theo and Draco ride in on the boats together. (Admittedly, I was not aiming for subtlety points with this intro. They are literally "in the same boat.") Immediately, Theo is throwing out narrative parallels like he's getting paid for it: they both have a dead parent. Both parents died under weird circumstances. Their fathers were both Death Eaters. Both of them are the sole heirs and only sons of great wizarding houses. Then they go into the Great Hall together, standing in line, but — and @piedrafundamental left a really banger analysis of the Sorting Hat scene in the comments on that chapter, but I'm going to crib just one line — crucially, "M comes before N." Draco's sorted before Theodore is, and he goes into Gryffindor. Immediately after that, Theodore's shunted into Slytherin, and their paths diverge. Call this the prologue of their relationship. They're not actually gonna get to know each other until Book 2 and Book 3, but this is the part where the narrative is basically jumping up and down and waving its arms at you, going "HEY! THIS GUY! IMPORTANT TO THE STORY! GET WORRIED ABOUT WHAT HE'S DOING, OKAY?"

Then we meet him again in Book 2, and just like Draco, a year at Hogwarts has changed him. He's a little more confident, a little more cocky, a little more comfortable, and — hey, look! He's got a weirdly intense friendship with a girl around his age, too! (Surprise, surprise, Draco is with Hermione when he meets Theo again, and who makes her debut in that moment but Pansy Parkinson?) And there's Daphne, the third leg of the Slytherin Trio, the kind of girl Draco probably would end up with in Slytherin — pretty, sociable, cunning, knows his family history (literally cites it to him in their first introduction, like c'mon), is the sister of his canonical wife, etc. etc., we got layers to this shit like lasagna but this post ain't about Daphne so we gotta move on — point being, either way he flips, Draco's going to be the fourth of a quartet. Which is the entree into the Slytherin politics storyline of Book 2, a.k.a. "the temptation of Draco Malfoy," where Theo is — I mean, to be honest, for once he's really not doing anything that sinister; from his perspective, he's kind of just putting his fucking back out trying to make a friend? He's drawing Draco in a regression towards prejudice and comfort, naturally, but that's not how he sees it. But there's a counterpoint between what Theo's offering and what waits for him in Gryffindor.

So that's the starting block of his character. The rest of the work is building a real person out of that; obviously, you can't just go "this is Foil Man, does whatever a Foil Can" and expect people to be interested. Part of what makes Theo interesting, to me, is that the traits he shares with Draco include a lot of what we tend to like about him — he's driven, intelligent, cunning, and brutal in the defense of those he loves — it's just that the people he loves, the people he surrounds himself with, are deeply prejudiced people committed to doing profoundly bad things. He's been trained from birth in the art of making bad people happy, and he's gotten good at it. And he's just enough of a coward (again, pot and kettle) that he can't imagine a world where that's not the case.

And it drives him fucking crazy that Draco won't admit that. Because I think Theo thinks if he can get Draco to admit they're similar people, it'll validate the choices he's made — like, yeah, he's fucked up horribly, but anyone would do the same, if they had to face what he has. Even Saint Draco. And of course, Draco is absolutely unwilling to go there with him, because:

(a) he very much does not want to believe that his years of grueling internal growth and struggle for betterment are just the product of some good luck with a hat; i.e., a suggestion that is not just insulting but terrifying because it suggests how very close he could be to regression at any time; but also:

(b) it is a fundamental tenet of Theo and Draco's dynamic that Draco does not like Theo as much as Theo likes him. Because where Theo sees his mirror in the light, Draco sees his mirror in the dark. And it's an increasingly ugly picture.

[phenomenalgirl9]

Poly! Yizhan x Reader: Charmer

A/n: Could be read as the next part of ✨DRAMA✨ or as an individual story. This just has an established relationship between Idol! Reader and Idol/Actor Yibo. The reader is a KQ girl group member.

⚠️There's a lil bit of smut, so beware.

Summary: You've known your boyfriend was bisexual. But what will you do when you find out Xiao Zhan is actually his ex and the guy is now flirting with you, even though he knows you're dating Yibo. He says he doesn't want to take you from him, then what is his motive?

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

"My girlfriend speaks CHINESE?!" Yibo exclaimed at his manager who was equally shocked as yours.

"Babe! We've been dating for 4 months! Howcome, you don't know that?!! I literally have Chinese members!" You said laughing.

"THEN WHY DID YOU NEVER TALK TO ME IN CHINESE?" He asked in chinese this time.

"Because it's weak and I don't use it much, but Wooyoung did tell you once." You said

"I thought he was joking" he said protesting.

The two managers shook their heads at your bickering.

"NOW NOW!" your manager brought your attention back to them "As we were speaking, China isn't like Korea, here we can manage the crowd and use means to not let news spread. But there it would be impossible. So?"

"We lay low" you said as you leaned into Yibo, who held you close.

"We don't want people to know unnecessarily so you'll be at your home" he pointed at Yibo and then pointed to me and said "you'll stay at a hotel, but. You can sneak in and out, we'll keep that option for you" his manager winked, as yours shook his head.

"We'll be leaving in a month, to start practice, script reading and costumes" your manager had told you.

"So basically I can't kiss you on set" Yibo pouted, you walked over to him and kissed him, your intention was for a peck, but you felt his strong hands immediately pulls you into him, closer until your bodies were smushed against each other. You feel him engulf your lower lip and suck on it as you complied with his intentions and gave in. His lips soon detached from your lips and attacked your neck, finding your sweet spot instantly and assaulting it, he inspected the area after giving it a satisfying hickey.

"You can't do that there!" You said

"I can only imagine how good you'll look in a Hanfu. How am I supposed to control myself?" He said tucking his head in the crook of your neck, rubbing his nose in a line, up your neck, as a shaky breath left your lips.

You both parted ways as you left the plane in Beijing. He left through his assigned door as you left yours, after waiting 2 hours in the airport. Yes you could have left on two different flights but Yibo insisted on either of you waiting. You walked out of the gate and were swarmed by body guards. You waved at your fans who cheered you on.

You reached the hotel and crashed on the bed as your phone rang, "Yes?" You asked

"Reached safely?" Your boyfriend asked.

"Mhm"

"Tired?" He asked

"Very" you mumbled

"Get something to eat first and then rest, I'll see you tomorrow morning before practice, okay?" He said

"Yeeeaaaa" you said and ordered some food before getting a shower.

You brought out the script as you dried your hair with your towel. Damn the directors are bolder this time. There are literally kiss scenes, you had one. You've already watched Yibo kiss another girl for acting, but you didn't know how you'd feel with the idea of his bring close to a guy in that sense. You'll meet the other cast today, you're actually looking forward to meeting Xiao Zhan and Liu Haikuan, they have been your favourite cast since back in the days.

It was not early in the morning (if you can call it that) when you heard your phone ring "Hello?" You said groggily.

"Babe. Open the door" you heard your boyfriend's voice.

"When you said you'll see me in the morning I had actually expected it to be after sunrise" you said as you walked to the door to open it. You felt his hands instantly push you inside and pull you to him, he held you close with one hand and used the other to lock the door.

"The thought of you being here but not beside me was killing me" he whispered.

"Your down bad" you said patting him

"You're worth it" he said pulling you into a loving kiss. You pulled him to bed and the two of you got cosy and fell asleep in each other's arms.

"Are you excited to meet Xiao Zhan again?" You asked Yibo as he ate his toast.

"Um.. I-I I-" he fumbled "I gotta tell you something, babe" he looked at you.

"What happened" you left trying to tie your hair and sat beside him, his eyes were glossy. "Baby whats wrong?" You asked

"I am- Zhan ge and I had a thing, like-" he started.

"Like a ritual?" You tried to help him, but he shook his head

"No I mean we um-" he stuttered again and then you got it.

"Oh my god!! Don't tell me you're saying what I think you're saying! Yizhan was real?" You asked

"What? Yes" he said looking down

"Are you bisexual?" You asked and he nodded "Ok. It's okay. I'm glad you told me" you said holding his hand.

"You're not angry?" He asked

"No. Surprised yes, but not angry" you said smiling and pecked his cheek. As he pulled you into a hug.

"I get it, it's nerve wracking to having to shoot with your ex" you patted his back "But you can do this Bobo" as he nodded. So, finally, after kissing all over your face and neck he left. You smiled at yourself and at the thought of your boyfriend. Soon, you started getting ready. You can't act intimately on the set, but you can't act unacquainted as well because it's a fact that you've done a drama together. So, it's friends. Hardly did you know what was waiting for you.

You entered the set greeting everyone with your manager. Your eyes landed on Yibo who smiled and waved at you as you waved back. You introduced yourself and were immediately swarmed by Zheng Fanxing (Lan Sizhui), Qi Peixing (Jin Ling) and Ji li (Nie Huisang). You looked around and found Xiao Zhan looking at you, did he smirk? Must be my imagination you thought as you spoke to them about the directors and scenes. You were playing Lan Sizhui's love interest, Nie Mingjue's daughter. So most of your scenes were with the juniors and Nie Huisang. Soon the directors came and welcomed everyone. That day you all practiced greeting, and bowing and talking politely. After lunch you ran a few scenes.

You were excited for the new day, Yibo had spent the night and left in the morning. This was the day for dresses, your character is supposed to wear Grey and blue. When you were all dressed up, you left the room to show the others. Fanxing, Ji Li and Peixing started clapping and cat calling, you found Xiao Zhan walking towards you he walked up to you and bowed "Hello, Nie Gunia, you look wonderful today" you immediately bowed back and said "You flatter me, Master Wei" you felt nervous. There was something in his aura, that intimidated you. And he walked walked away. You heard your phone notification

Bobo sent a message:

Baby you look ravishing.

🥵😘😘

-You look so handsome

-I can't believe I am seeing you in this outfit!!!

Someone's EXCITED

-Shut up

And you looked at him to find him looking at you. Your manager cleared his throat and you immediately looked away. Unknowing you two, a pair of eyes were already on you two. During practice Fanxing (Lan Sizhui), Peixing (Jin Ling) and Guocheng (Jingyi) helped you alot and you were actually having fun running lines with them and Ji li occasionally. There came a scene when Xiao Zhan held your hand to protect you from a corpse and it took everything inside Yibo not to pull you away from the man he almost dropped his character.

_____________________________________

1st day of shoot

You had your make up and dress up done and were waiting for the others to step out when Xiao Zhan walked up to you and you greeted him, he was still in his regular clothes. "You seem nervous" he said. "I still get the 1st day chills" you said "like even after performing so many times I still feel giddy before I step up on stage". "Well I do too, both actually so I understand" he said. "You? Impossible" you said. "No really. I'm human too" he said. This moment talking to him, you had forgotten all the past smugness, this seemed and felt real. His bunny smile felt real and you felt blessed to have seen it in person. Fanxing and Peixing soon left the make up room as Xiao Zhan greeted them and walked in. Gosh you almost hurt your neck to look up to him, literally. When you walked on to the set you found Yibo there waiting for you, well he said he just wanted to get the feel of the series back before his parts came up. "All the best" he told everyone, while passing you with a smile. One by one the scenes were being done. Your stylists running and fixing your make up and hair often. Sometime among this Yibo also got dressed. "You look good" you tell him in korean, "Yeah I get that a lot" he replied smugly and you shook your head.

Later in your hotel room as you lied down you received Yibo's call. "Hey baobao" he said making you blush you still weren't used to it even after all these months. "How was the rest of the shoot?" you asked as your group was done earlier. "It was not awkward, me and Zhan ge actually cleared the air. He was actually praising you, your accent and stuff" he teased. "What about you though?" You asked. "You look really pretty in them. But that Fanxing (Lan Sizhui) better keep his hands to himself" he said with his gremlin smile. "Gave you some deja vu?" You laughed, ne he wasn't necessarily jealous as you have worked on the same drama with different love interests. "You're still wearing make up?" He asked noticing now, "Yeah I came in just an hour ago, me and the other juniors went for dinner first" you said and watched Yibo pout. "Why are you pouting?!" You asked, "they can hangout with you like that, I can't even hold your hand in public" he said and you laughed at his cuteness.

_____________________________________

3 weeks into filming

"Ssup?" You heard the voice and almost got shocked, you were early to set and were waiting while reading your script, Zhan's voice startled you. It was one of your first scenes with him and Yibo today and you were excited. "I'm excited to finally meet the infamous Wei Ying" you said. "Hey, you meet him everyday almost" he said with a charming smile, that almost (ALMOST) made you blush. "Not this way, like directly, you won't understand" you said. "I wish I would" he said and walked off not before passing you a wink.

"What was that?" Guocheng (Jingyi) asked. "What?" You said. "Zhan gege was flirting with you!" He said excitedly. "No he was just being friendly" you said. "Yeah yeah of course you'd say that, you only have eyes for Yibo" he said. Your eyes went wide "WHAT?" you asked. "What? You don't have a crush on Yibo?" He said with a face that said he wasn't even joking. "Who doesn't" you said brushing it off and running away with a sigh of relief when your stylist called for your turn.

_____________________________________

"Master Wei, Hanguang Jun" you said bowing, as they bowed back. "Sizhui, report" Yibo said in his deep Lan Zhan tone. "Hanguang Jun, there are walking corpses all around, they seemed to be quite potent but not under control or anything" he said. "CUT" the director shouted. As all of you sighed in relief and walked off to the nearby chairs.

Yibo, Zhan ge and Fanxing literally picked up their skirts calling it ventilation, they all had shorts inside, so did you but it wasn't appropriate now was it. So, you sat there struggling in the humid weather, fanning yourself with the portable fan, suddenly your felt more breeze. You turned to see literally 2 more fans pointed at you. Zhan ge and Yibo, "Guys I'm fine" you said. "It's okay" two said at a time. At a distance you see Guocheng giving you a knowing smirk and you glared at him.

You were anxious for the next scene, this was your first fight scene, even though you've done these back in Korea, but this is the first with a sword. And you were excited, you have practiced a lot. As the director gave his queue you and your opponent started. And after 3 takes you were finally satisfied. And you hung from the harness, Fanxing who was also beside you asked "So how was it?". "I loved it" you said and he laughed at your excitement. You were given rest for the rest of the day. You went to get your make up off when you noticed your manager not where he generally stays, you checked your phone and found hid text.

-Y/n, please get a cab to the hotel, I have to handle some emergencies.

"oh damn" you cursed. "Where's manager nim?" Yibo asked and you showed him your screen and he said "It's okay I'll drop you".

"Something wrong?" You heard Peixing ask and you explained your situation. "But Yibo's house is in the opposite direction, I on the other hand would pass through there. Come Y/n I'll give you a ride. Yibo could go home and rest" he said. "But-" Yibo tried to protest but his manager stopped him and you were left with no other choice. You got into the passenger's seat of Zhan ge's car and he smiled at you before driving away.

"I must say I'm a huge fan of your group and your acting. Loved the music style it's so different that the other gurl groups of your time." He said. "We try, it's all thanks to the pd-nims" you said. "You write songs too, don't you?" He asked. "Yeah" you shyly said "I have a habit of carrying my equipment everywhere" you added. "I know how it is" he said with this charming smile, your heart skilled a beat and you internally regretted, get a grip Y/n. "Yeah the activities need to keep going" you said. "Did you eat something? I'm hungry, let's get some ____ (your favourite snack)?" He said and You nodded. Gosh you were really hoping to get to the hotel soon, Yibo might be waiting there. He went through a drive through and ordered. "So, what about you and Yibo?" He asked, his eyes said he has been dying to ask this question. "W-what about us?" You asked, shit you stuttered. "Aren't you dating?" He asked "C'mon we're friends now right". "No we're good friends" you said even saying that sounded wrong, but duty calls. "Really? But your eyes say otherwise" he said looking dead into your eyes. You tried to get something out of your mouth but nothing came, so you resorted to advert your eyes and take a bit of your food.

When you reached you bowed and thanked Zhan ge "You don't have to bow you know" he said. "It's a habit" you said and bid him bye and walked inside. You rushed to your room, opening it to find your man waiting. He stood up as soon as saw you he stood up. He didn't see you that much this week, outside shoot. You jumped onto him and he caught you as he pulled you as close as he could. "I missed you baobao" he said. "Me too babe" you said. And you crashed your lips onto his, him immediately reacting to them like it was second nature. He shoved his tongue inside your mouth as he put you down on the bed and climbed on top of you all without breaking away the kiss. You grabbed him tight against yourself as he tilted his head to gain better access. He finally broke away and immediately attacked your neck with kisses careful to not leave marks. You pushed him off yourself and climbed on him and pulled him by the neck and kissed him eagerly, pouring all your feelings for him in the kiss, you undid his buttons and peppered kisses, he moaned as you kitten locked his nipple, you knew he liked it and gosh did you love to hear his moans as one of his hand was on your neck and the other gripping the sheets. He pulled off your top in one go and felt you up and you kept abusing his neck and nipples additionally grinding onto him, making both of you moan. You felt him hard against your core and knew you were wet as well. You kissed your way down. And lets say the two of you were soon moaning messes. You ended up cuddling naked and going to sleep.

_____________________________________

"I can't believe how you call them the boys, like how you refer to us as the girls" Nix, your group member said, her pout visible through the screen.

"Oh come on, are you really jealous of the Juniors?" You said laughing. You laughed, "But actually today, even Yibo, Zhang ge and Haikuan ge were there" and the girls 'awed'.

"Is it just me or isn't Xiao Zhan to cozy with you, he and Yibo literally follow you around" Aera pointed out. "Now it's justified for Yibo, he's your boyfriend but Xiao Zhan" Nix shook her head "Even in the leaked photos, his eyes are mostly on you" she added but you brushed her off. "It could just be the moment, any ways, I'm returning the day after tomorrow for the festivals and cons. I miss Soojin's food." You said. "I'll make you a good meal" Soojin said from across the screen, and you smiled. "Will Yibo stay there?" Nix asked and you nodded.

Later that night

-I heard you're leaving for Korea -xz

Yeah :) got group schedules. I'll be back in a month tho.

-The set will be empty without you.

Please, you'll hardly notice me gone.

-Not true

:)))

It was strange, he could have written that in the group chat, but you shrugged and went to sleep. The next afternoon you walked in and found Yibo, Zhan and Yubin laughing at something, you felt happy to see his playfulness come back. You were almost worried about leaving him here alone. Thank god he's warming back up.

_____________________________________

Back In Korea

"You're joking!" Aera said as you and her went back to the dorm, she came to pick you up, it was great to get your leader alone, you needed to talk to her alone and this was secretive stuff.

"I swear" you said, she sat for a moment still trying to wrap her head around this new info. "That makes him Bisexual, right?" She asked and you nodded "Maybe Xiao Zhan is too" she said. "I doubt it, he must be gay, and no he doesn't flirt with me, he's just friendly". "But Y/n was it okay to leave him there alone while you're miles away?" She said. "We do it all the time, what do you mean?" You asked. "Yeha but you don't leave each other with the other's ex's all the time, said ex who seems to be a smooth flirt" she said. "No. He would never do that to me. And even if he does" he stopped and sighed "We'll see". "More like me and girls will whoop his ass" she said with her fists in the air.

You and Yibo talked almost every other day, when you weren't half dead from practice. The Juniors video call you from the set often to tell you how much they miss you. They even watched your kpop festival performance and made a video of them cheering sending them to you and congratulating you on your performances. Xiao Zhan also texted you often, telling you how great you looked and did or random things that happened at set, or how Yibo messed up or he did and one teased the other.

_____________________________________

You were excited to go back to China, you missed your boyfriend to pieces. So much that you went straight to set to meet him. You saw him do a scene and stood in the side lines. As the director yelled "Cut", a few staff came up to talk to the actirs on scene, namely Him, The Juniors and Zhan with Yubin at a corner. You walked up to them and Yibo's eyes lit up and without even realising you ran into his arms and he hugged you back. "Your back" he said, in his Lan Zhan voice and you giggled, suddenly realising what you did, but you kept your calm. You released and went on to hug each of the juniors who welcomed you with open arms, Yubin you side hugged you and Xiao Zhan, who gave you a warm engulfing hug. You couldn't help but get lost in his scent, his own mixed with the scent of his colon. You snapped yourself out and pulled away.

They all told you how much they missed you and Zhan suggested for all of you to go for dinner, they all insisted and you agreed. You noticed how playful Yibo has gotten teasing Zhan ge. You smiled seeing him happy in his element. The dinner was fun as always, you sat with Yibo on one side and Zhan on another, both constantly making you laugh. At a point Yibo's leg brushed against you and you let it there for a while. Yibo and decided to 'drop' you at your hotel. All of you went to your different ways. You two discreetly walked inside the hotel, he ripped off your mask and attacked your lips with his. "I missed you" he said and hugged you tight.

He told all different things that happened, things that reminded him of you and how much he missed you. How much he wanted to be there and watch you perform and how everyone was in awe for your performance. You told him about the new idols you met and the groups you watched. And you ended up cuddling and talking until you two drifted off.

Shooting the next segments was fun as they were mostly outdoor segments. China was a beautiful country and shooting and seeing new places was fun. You were a lot closer with the others too, and being away from the main city gave you and Yibo a lot of time to sneak around.

Zhan, Yibo and you went on coffee. "One (Your favourite drink other), One Americano and One Iced Latte" Yibo said, at the counter and you were surprised for him to know both of your and Zhan's orders by heart. Yours was quite obvious as he brought you coffee quite often but- You didn't think much. The three of you immediately got engrossed in a conversation, about the new advertisement campaigns these two were doing, they did a lot of these when they did the first season, when they were dating. You smiled and wondered if you could ever get there? In a campaign with your boyfriend. "What's wrong Y/n?" Zhan asked and you shook your head "Nothing, I was just thinking about the script" you said and smiled.

You looked at the time and cursed "My next scene is scheduled next, I better go, see you both later" you said and walked back to the set, some people looking at you as you passed, of course they did, you were wearing a full-fledged hanfu.

"How dare you?" You said and pulled out your sword, pointing it at the other guy's neck, "Let it go, Y/n. He's not worth it" Fanxing said, and you gripped your sword tighter, eyes never leaving the man "I'm sorry Gunia, I didn't know" he man kept pleading. "huh" you mocked and put down your sword and turned around, making sure the long sleeves flip as you do so. And walked away pushing Peixing. "Cut" the director yelled. "That was so good Y/n" Peixing said, "you looked like you'd really kill him" he said and suddenly you heard laughter. You all looked toward the vanity and found Yibo and Zhan messing around and laughing as Yibo hit him with his long sleeves. "Thank God they are back like how they used to be" Peixing said. And then it hit you like they used to, back then, when they were dating? Are you missing something? Was Aera! No. He would never.

They both stayed back, that is where he stays, it's too convenient, be careful Y/n. The voices rang in your head. Was that the reason why Zhan was so friendly with you? Was that his motive all along. You breathed in and out. No, you can't jump into conclusions. You needed to calm down.

"Y/n, are you okay?" You heard Guocheng's voice. "Yeah? Yeah, I'm absolutely fine" you said pulling a smile. "Really" he asked, his face said he saw through you, but you nodded your head.

_____________________________________

However, your world came crashing down on you 3 days from then, when you walked into the wrong vanity and found Zhan holding Yibo's hand hus word "I still do love you Yibo", and the reply came "I know, I- Y/n?" Yibo's eyes went to you and he pulled away his hand. "Y/n baobao, it's not what it looks like" he rushed after you. "Don't. Ever. Call. Me. That" you said. "Y/n please listen" Zhan followed him, approachung you from the other side and you put the prop sword in your hand on his chest, keeping him at a distance. "I don't want a word from either of you. I trusted you Yibo, I thought you'd tell me if you ever felt something like this. I know I'm nothing like him and you could always love him. But, at least I deserved honesty!" You said tears in your eyes. "Y/n it's not-" Yibo started but you cut him off. "Save it. Don't ever show me your face outside the set" you said and walked away.

"That bastard, I'm booking a flight right now" Aera said. As you cried and your members were teary eyed too. "No, don't be stupid, you still have your Show to conduct" you said. "We cannot leave you like this okay" Soojin said. "Then I'll go" Nix volunteered "I'll accompany Y/n unnie and visit home later" she shrugged. "You don't have to do this for me please-" you were cut off. "NONSENSE SHE'S GOING THAT'S FINAL, SHE'LL BE IN THE FIRST FLIGHT TO BEIJING CITY" Aera said and you lied down having your member would of course feel better. And that happened the next evening when you reached your hotel, you ran into Nix's arms, you didn't have shooting but other side projects that came along with this project.

"I'm so sorry you have to go through this. When do you have to shoot next?" She asked. "Tomorrow" you deadpanned. "It's okay, I'll fend them off, I'll stick to you like gum" she assured.

_____________________________________

Hence, the next day Nix went with you, she was true to her word. When Yibo tried to approach you, she stared him down to a point be couldn't even walk close to you and so was Xiao Zhan. They both knew that you weren't going to listen to either of them. And a week went, Yibo came to your room a couple of times, but was driven away by Nix. Even his manager tried to call you but your manager helped you in making it stop. Meanwhile you felt like crying even when you looked at him, doing the scenes were so tough. Even the others noticed how you seemed off all the time.

You were angry in Yibo for cheating on you, but you also felt cheated by Zhan, as you knew he flirted with you but found him professing his love for Yibo. You were angry at yourself for letting this happen to even have intrusive thoughts of Zhan. You were cursing yourself for even trusting these two men.

A week went by, you were feeling much better, you managed to not feel like crying and stopped having bad dreams. Nix had to go back and so she went home, though your members didn't want you to be alone so Aera and Soojin video called you. You heard the bell ring and you bid them farewell thinking it was your room service. You opened the door to see the last person you expected it to be.

"Please let me in" he pleaded, looking deep into your eyes. His eyes were screaming at you and you did, you moved aside letting him in and closing the door.

"5 mins" you said looking straight at Xiao Zhan. "Okay, what you thought was wrong, Yibo wasn't cheating on you per say" he said. "Did he send you here to spew all this bullshit?! You didn't even know" You asked him sheeting in anger. "I knew you two were dating and Yibo doesn't even know I'm here. But please trust me I wasn't trying to snatch your boyfriend from you" he said. "Really?! Cause it seemed to be like that was your intention to get me to be comfy with you and then you take him away" you said. "NO NO. I WOULD NEVER.-" he was cut off by you. "You left me alone, you took him away! I FUCKING TRUSTED YOU" you said. "I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG! ONLY THING I DID WAS TO LOVE YOU!" he said. "Excuse me what?! Are you tryna two time us or something?! Weren't you telling Yibo you love him? The fuck is wrong with you?" You said. "Yibo loves you" he said and you scoffed but he went on saying "but he loves me too. I knew I was still in love with him but the more I saw you, the more I fell for you too". "What do you even-" but he stopped you and continued. "I didn't want to break you, I wanted to be a part of you too. And don't even lie two, I see the way you looked towards me how your body acted towards me" he said and put his palm on your cheek, you tried to flinch but you couldn't, he caught you. "We both love you so much. But, it depends on you. If you say yes we could give it a try, but if you say no, I'll walk away, please don't leave Yibo, he's lost without you. I am too, but it's essential for me that the two of you aren't hurt." He said and tears stung your eyes, you fisted your palms and hit his chest as you broke into more tears and hit your face in his chest. You couldn't hold it in any longer. It's true your own head has been a mess. And now things looked clear but were you really up to this.

"Please say something. I swear we can figure this out. Please" he said he pleaded, you look up to see that even his eyes were red it's that you noticed tear stains. "I need time" you finally said pulling away. And wiped your own tears "leave" you instructed and he did wordlessly with his head down.

The past few days were gloomy on the set nobody talked much, laughed much. You three weren't seen together for over a week. People were talking a lot. You on the other hand were running late the next day, having been thinking the whole night and not getting any sleep. No you've never cared what people said but can what he said really happen? And you looked up on the internet to see there have been many in the past and are still there. It's not something odd or unlikely. You thought back to Yibo to all those memories and Zhan, could you really give it a try. This thing Zhan suggested.

You were still contemplating when you were buying coffee, later at noon, if you should do it. And you finally did it, you walked to the vanity of the two main protagonists and pulled the door open and entered startling both the men inside. Both silent, almost forgot to breathe, watching every move you make. You simply walked up and took a seat on the couch, placing the three coffees, on the table and smiling at the cups.

It's as if Yibo knew what you were thinking, he rushed to hug you the impact, sent you both backwards falling on the couch, you could see tears in his eyes. "I thought I lost you, I thought you'd never see me again. Oh God! Y/n I missed you baobao" he kept on rambling, it was actually the first time he was so vulnerable in front of you. It was almost to a different level. You slowly sat up with him still attached to you, you looked up at Zhan who looked at you with a faint smile. You were holding and patting Yibo with one hand, you extended your free hand and signalled him to join you both and he literally rushed in to hug the two of you. You thought you'd feel strange but you didn't, you strangely felt at ease after a long time. "I don't know how this works but I'm willing to give this a try and see how this works" you said and immediately felt two pairs of lips on both of your cheeks and closed your eyes feeling a blush creep unto your face. "I love you" the two said almost in sync, "I love you Yibo and Zhan ge, I realised how much I fell for you even though my feelings for Yibo were intact. How much you meant to me, how much I missed you. And how much this thought excited me." You confessed.

Life came back to the set in no time. Currently you were giggling at how your hair was flying every time you did jumps on the harness. You were literally laughing as you hung while Peixing and Fanxing were laughing standing below along with Yibo and Zhan ge.

_____________________________________

The three of you went to get coffee together like before. Sometimes dinner, it was one such day that you finally got the courage to invite them to your room. "We don't have shoot tomorrow right so, do you wanna come upstairs, watch a movie or something?" You said. And they agreed, they both let you choose a movie and you put on a studio ghibli movie. "Come here" Zhan ge said, patting at the place between him and Yibo. You laid on Zhan's arm as Yibo engulfs both of you with his arms. It was comfortable, being there with the two you loved. Their smell was intoxicating to you, and you felt bold, you contemplated if you should act on your impulse and your impulse won. You placed a kiss on Zhan and then on Yibo.

Yibo took no time to immediately connect your lips to his, moaning into your mouth as if he's been dying to do it. He pulled away and held your chin turning it towards Zhan. Who looked towards your eyes as if looking for permission which you granted and he placed his lip on you it was soft at first, but you lightly bit his lip and he moaned when you felt Yibo's lips on your exposed neck, leaving kisses. You felt two sets of hands roaming your body and it turned you more on. You pulled away and ducked down, pushing their faces towards each other, their kiss was hot and filled with want. Suddenly, Yibo pulled away and pulled you up in a sitting position so as you were on his lap but facing Zhan. You felt Yibo's member against your clothed ass, as he pulled down the shoulder of your shoulder to gain better access and Zhan kissed you, holding onto your waist, as he made you grind onto Yibo. Yibo reached out one hand slinding down to your core other to Zhan's and you both moaned in each other's mouth.

Soon Yibo picked you up and laid you down on the bed. "May I?" Yibo asked, holding onto your top, and you nodded. "You both too" you said and in one pull both pulled out of their t-shirts. Damn, it was like you were in bed with two gods. Fine body, and their smell was clogging your brain. You were pushed down as you felt a pair of lips on your chest, looking down to find Zhan and then a pair between your legs kissing your inner thighs. "Fuck" you cursed, you knew you were done for.

_____________________________________

"I've been dreading this day" you heard Zhan say. "What's wrong?" You asked. "It's that scene today"Yibo said and then you realised it was the day your little kiss scene with Fanxing was scheduled. "Trust me, I have faced worse" Yibo declared, remember the other time he had to witness you deeply kiss your love interest.

"He better not lay a hand on you" Zhan said. "It's just acting gege" you said and got ready for the scene. The scene is simple, you fall on top of Sizhui and your lips touch for a moment.

Yibo laughed as he watched Xiao Zhan watch you do the scene. "This Fanxing is having too much fun" "Was it supposed to be this long" "At times I wished your sword was real". To all Yibo responded with "It's okay" "Calm down" "It's acting".

You on the other hand had to do the same scene 4 times, half way by the second Yibo had walked off taking Zhan with him. "Oh god really?" You said as you laughed and took the piece of nugget into your nugget into your mouth that Zhan ge was holding for you. "Yeah, I had to hold him down" Yibo said rolling laughter.

_____________________________________

The promotions were fun #Yizhan/n has been trending, since you started going from city to city. Watching the fans fangirling over the boys was something. It was your first time giving interviews in chinese, without your members and you were nervous. Whenever a question was thrown at you and your face went blank Yibo knew and would rush to your ear to explain it in Korea, you didn't even had to ask.

You were sitting in your room sitting and scrolling through your private twitter account, seeing what the fans have been posting when a tweet thread caught your eye.

You smiled and clicked on the thread. It was filled with various comments.

It was true that Xiao Zhan travels ALOT, but it's also true he has been visiting alot. Yibo has always been on both sides, but the three of you try to take time out for each other, as 2 or sometimes as 3. Try to spend time even if it is on a video call. And that the three of you often went out, cause it's difficult and not always all three can be at the same place so you try even if its any 2 at the time. You often get insecure and the two always give you assurance. "We found what we were missing the last time. It was like something was missing" Yibo said. "Yeah like there was a missing piece. And It's you, Y/n" Zhan said. "You completed us" Yibo said. But you shook your head and said "in the end we all complete each other. It's us three, that's it" and the two kissed your cheek and you felt all your insecurities melt away.

You were smiling to yourself while sipping coffee and reading comments when one comment caught your eye and you choked.

Imagine? Well. You though.

_____________________________________

Other mdzs works

Main Masterlist

[pixie-in-a-moonlantern]

KILL ME LIKE A LOVER

Durgetash | explicit 18+ Enver Gortash x f!Durge / Halsin Silverbough x f!Durge smut, sex, p in v sex; homicidal urge, light bondage in a non-sexual setting, graphic threats of violence; prolonged emotional/physical hurt, comfort, fluff, love confession, 2 romantic relationships (separate for now, hinting at possible future poly f!Durge/Halsin/Gortash)

❗ Closely follows events of the first fic: I Don't Like You (Tumblr | AO3)

Read on AO3 for more context and comfort (I'll be very grateful if you toss me a kudo there as well, even if you read and reblog here ♥ - remember, fic writers share their work for free!)

13,795 words in 10 chapters

My Spotify playlist for this couple »

“You’re back,” he whispers, and an almost maniacal glow radiates from him. “And something in you is drawn to me, I can see it. It makes me hopeful.” He tilts his head to the side and brushes hair away from my neck. “Did you really not expect me to use every resource at my disposal to convince you to stay?”

I gulp. Gods, I should never have gone to see him. Some things are best left buried, some fires best left extinguished. But I poked a bibberbang and now my world is ablaze.

01 She walks escorted.

The Watcher walks beside me the whole way to Wyrm's Rock. I try keeping my head down, but any hope of not being noticed is lost with every thundering step the Watcher takes. People hold the Baldur's Mouth gazettes and point at the hallowed hero as she walks escorted to the City's would-be savior for an audience.

I wish I could just open up a portal to the Hells in the sidewalk and jump in. Gortash is going to pay for this one.

We finally reach the elevator to the audience hall and the stupid clanker squeezes in with me. I bulge my eyes, just about ready to go on a murder spree.

"Seriously? It goes straight up into the tower, where else do you think I could go?"

"There is no need for alarm, citizen," the Watcher assures me monotonously, not moving an inch. "I was instructed to deliver you safely directly to the Archduke, Lord Gortash."

"Would you chill with the 'Archduke' already?" I groan, head lulled back. "You know he's not one yet, right? No matter how many times you repeat it."

The Watcher doesn't respond. Perhaps Gortash expects such quips from people and instructs his hellish machines to not react. Or—perhaps if I was other people the metal hulk would just smash me on the spot for such a comment. Fucking tyrant.

What was even wrong with me when I willingly worked with this man, having just as deprived plans for the Sword Coast myself? Did I accidentally get lobotomized into a sane person? That would be one Hell of a joke on fate. And on Bhaal.

I imagine he must be simmering in his own rage, watching his prized child run around helping refugees. That little fantasy cheers me up. I lean on the side of the elevator and just chuckle to myself through the ride, mocking Daddy dearest in the relative privacy of my skull.

The Audience hall is deserted once more. The Steel Watch form a line in between the columns from the entrance to the dais on the other side, standing at attention. It's like some sort of welcoming ceremony, but just for little ol' me.

I reluctantly scale the acres of red carpet over stone flooring, feeling my chest tighten.

Gortash watches me as I approach, the remote-control suit of armor still stomping next to me. This time, he sits on the throne in all his grimy glory like the shameless usurper he is.

Except... he doesn't look grimy. Did he bathe again? What in the Hells does he think he can pressure me into doing?!

... again.

If there's a term for how his face simultaneously brightens and darkens, I can't recall, but that's exactly what happens. He's happy to see me and has very unsavory thoughts about it.

The Watcher only peels off my path once I'm literally at the lowest steps before the dais. I cross my arms over my chest and give Gortash my most unamused expression, even though my heart is racing with both fear and excitement.

He smiles as if he didn't notice it and opens his arms wide in a grand welcoming gesture. "My dearest assassin," he exclaims, voice warm like sunshine.

"Yeah, right, whatever," I roll my eyes. "So what, do I just stand here, like a pleb before their master, or did you have something civil in mind?"

He leans back in his seat and pats his thigh, a smirk playing around his lips. "You can always come sit on my lap."

Indignation and an unwelcome spark of lust flood my chest. I let out a bestial growl, not quite sure if I mean to intimidate him or my inner demons.

Gortash chuckles and, to my surprise, actually stands from his throne and steps down, until he's face-to-face with me.

It's hard to say whether he made it better or worse. I try to keep my gaze from wandering down his ridiculously low cleavage, but looking into his eyes is not much safer. They gleam with both smugness and affection and my stupid heart flutters.

"How lovely to see you, Nara," he drawls, sight approvingly gliding up and down my body. "I love how you chose to wear your custom made version of my gauntlet."

I sigh. I should've known he would bring it up.

I woke up on the nautiloid wearing that thing. I didn't remember anything about it, but it looked badass and was also quite useful. I store a healing potion in the socket and even the claws have come in handy in a pinch.

I didn't feel like getting rid of it when I noticed him wearing the same thing in Moonrise, because I grossly underestimated the significance. I just thought he set off a new trend among Baldurians and I wasn't immune to the allure. Happens to the best of people, right?

After I made the mistake of having sex with my ex, I figured ditching it won't help me anyway—if I do it now, it will only show him that I care.

"I didn't exactly have time to change for you, Gortash," I sneer. "You had your metal munchkin threaten me into coming here. It paraded me through the town, taking the busiest route. What do you think I am to you? Your lapdog? Your fucking mascot?"

Despite my derisive tone, he chances a step closer and my heart jumps up into my throat.

"You came to see me yourself first, remember? No one forced you."

"Well, at least no one saw me then," I bitch.

"Too bad," he bites his lip, coming closer.

He slowly, cautiously reaches out and runs the backs of his fingers along my jaw. I grit my teeth in an effort to not show it, but I like it too much to make him stop. He smiles contentedly and keeps lightly touching my face.

"You're back," he whispers, and an almost maniacal glow radiates from him. "And something in you is drawn to me, I can see it. It makes me hopeful." He tilts his head to the side and brushes hair away from my neck. "Did you really not expect me to use every resource at my disposal to convince you to stay? Nara?"

I gulp. Gods, I should never have gone to see him. Some things are best left buried, some fires best left extinguished. But I poked a bibberbang and now my world is ablaze.

"Do your friends know what you did the other night?" he smirks, smarminess making its comeback in his voice. "Does your druid know?"

"I tell him everything," I say equally smugly, finally gaining some leverage. "He's the most wholesome man I know. He's not trying to own me or isolate me like some."

A shadow of irritation and disappointment dims the self-satisfaction in his face. Point for me.

"Karlach wasn't so understanding," I continue, narrowing my eyes. "She's worried about me falling for you. I told her it's a ridiculous notion, but she proceeded to make me feel better by describing how she's going to disembowel you if you hurt me."

He scoffs. "I can imagine. She always was a crude weapon. Effective, but crude. Nothing like your refined style." His gaze softens again when he gently combs the hair on my temple with the claws of his gauntlet. "You never used brute force, yet there was no one you couldn't break. I wouldn't have been an exception, but you stayed your hand. Against your father's explicit wishes, apparently."

"I'll break you right now if you want," I say in a trembling voice. His tone and touch are doing things to me. I'm getting scared and the Urge in me is trying to respond to the stress with violence.

His mouth stretches into a delighted smile. "I'm sure you'd like that. But so would he. I thought you were done being his good girl?"

My throat goes dry as I recall the night it all went awfully wrong. When I failed to do my duty one too many times. When I got my reward for disobedience.

"What Orin did to me," I croak, "was Bhaal's punishment for my refusing to kill you."

Once Gale understood the predatory patterns of his former lover, he got eerily good at interpreting gods' behavior. He gave me more answers than even Gortash managed to. Knowing this lifted a certain weight off my mind; I wasn't just discarded for being useless—I was being a bad murderer to Daddy and he decided to teach me a lesson.

Gortash's face goes slack for a moment, before darkening with realization. He didn't know. Or he didn't want to. It was easier to blame Orin's ambition.

"So, yeah, I'm done being his tool. If I do kill you, Enver," I'm the one to reach for him this time, running a fingertip down that enticing window of his shirt, "I'll be killing you for myself."

He gulps, fumbling for lost balance. "Incorrect, sweetheart. It was punishment for loving me. Not calling it what it is doesn't make it any less true."

"Did I, though?" I've had a long sleepless night thinking about it. "I was a naive, brainwashed cultist. Did I really choose you? Or were you just convenient? The only man around with enough balls to risk it with me, maybe? Or worse: the only one who figured how easy it would be to use me?"

I'm hissing by the time I finish the last sentence and I can see how close to home it hits. His chest heaves and he takes a few steps back, turning from me. I can't see his face, so I assume he's looking for a way to refute my accusations.

"I don't know."

His voice is so small I can barely hear it. Small and vulnerable, filled with insecurity. I'm once again reminded of the image I created of the little boy Gortash treated to neglect and betrayal instead of love, and I feel the telltale stinging in my eyes.

He slowly turns back, his expression a pure emotional chaos.

"I... don't know if you chose me," he says a little louder this time, but still sounds so... lost. "One day we just... were and..." His eloquence bends under the heft of his uncertainty. "It was so easy to be with you, so... natural. I..." He closes his eyes against the turmoil raised by the memories. "At first I figured you were just having a bit of fun rebelling against Bhaal, but... You were so amazing. So warm, when your Urge was satisfied. I've never... no one ever made me feel like you did."

The only things I knew of our relationship were what he told me. I imagined it a lot different than what it sounds like now, after he suffered a sobering blow to his ego. I can't know how much of this is genuine... but he suddenly painfully reminds me of Astarion, the way he fumbles in the dark as soon as his winning act falls apart.

I know he's not a good man. I've heard plenty about the things he's done—and is still doing. But how much of his flaws can I blame on nature when I also know what he's been through? He's a survivor. No one is inherently evil—not even me.

The people you surround yourself with have a profound effect on you. Even Astarion's worst traits are being slowly worn down in the unexpected acceptance he's receiving. If it had been Gortash who was betrayed, almost killed and taken, and then found by such a wholesome group of similarly afflicted weirdos, would he have remained selfish and cruel? Or would he have chosen a better path, like me?

"I thought I was a 'horrible influence' on you." I swallow hard. I shouldn't believe a word he says... but I do.

"You were," he shrugs casually. I find him a lot more pleasant without the air of fake grandeur. "We did wonderfully bad things together, things I wouldn't have thought of myself. But that was your heritage." He studies my face for a second, longing in his eyes. "No one taught you to be silly and fun. No one taught you to be gentle. No one taught you how to appreciate more than blood and guts in people. You bloomed with all colors like a flower, when we were alone."

I blink the tears away and hug myself. No wonder Bhaal got mad. He wasn't raising me to be gentle and fun. He wanted a devoted follower. He wanted to own me. And yet I seem to have found myself in someone else instead of him.

He couldn't smite him, so he took it out on me.

"Then why can't I remember any of this?" I whisper. "My murdering days keep coming back to me. But the picture where you should be is blank."

I don't expect it and certainly don't wish for it, but Gortash notices my discomfort and rushes to me. He takes my shoulders and squeezes them reassuringly.

"You are his creation," he says grimly. "He has the power to restore everything within you. It's clear why he chooses only the parts without me: for the same reason he had Orin attack you. You were a different person with me—a person he didn't like and didn't need. He won't let you remember me as long as your blood belongs to him."

I'm getting overwhelmed. I feel used, manipulated, trapped. I feel my fear and smell the scent of my blood as Orin's beating the life out of me, calling me slurs I've never heard of. I feel as if someone's invisible hand presses on my windpipe and I sense a dreadful but familiar presence.

"NO!" I'm shaking my head wildly, trying to push him out. The world seems to blacken around me, but I keep fighting. "I'M DONE WITH YOU, YOU HEAR?!" I yell blindly at the ceiling, pulling on my hair.

YOU CAN NEVER BE 'DONE' WITH ME, CHILD.

I gasp when his voice thunders in my brain without having gone through my ears. It's deafening and it's all around me, smothering me.

YOUR CONTROL IS AN ILLUSION. GIVE IN. OBEY. BEFORE YOU FORCE ME TO END YOU.

I shudder and shrink into myself, falling to my knees, cradling my head. I'm suspended in agony for several impossibly long seconds... then my vision goes black.

02 Daddy sets an ultimatum.

"...Talas... Talas!"

My head is pounding and feels like it's stuffed with cotton. Someone's calling out my name... but it's not really my name.

"Nara!"

There it is. But it feels wrong. I feel movement, but can't tell what's happening.

"You know what," I grumble and I'm surprised to hear my own voice, "I've changed my mind. I hate the way you say it."

"Thank the devils," I hear Gortash snort. "As names go, exchanging 'Talas' for 'Nara' is a pure downgrade."

I open my eyes. Red mist is clouding my gaze. I feel thirsty and hungry. A rough palm cups my chin and a violent jerk runs through my body, making my teeth snap and try biting it. But the hand is strong and its grip tightens enough to hold me still.

"Easy now," Gortash hums, unbothered by my little attack. "You're safe. I'm safe. Let's work through it slowly. We've got all day."

I look up and find his face and it's the only thing I can clearly focus on. Everything else is muted, but his features are so sharp I squint at the intensity at first. But I understand. I know what I want now.

I want to kill him.

I grunt and try to reach for him, but I'm restrained. I look down through the red haze and see myself kneeling on red satin sheets. I'm still wearing all my clothes, but my boots, armor and gauntlet are off. The ties right above my elbows creak like tough leather as I strain against them, but I can clearly feel soft padding pressed against my skin. My wrists are bound in front of me. I can move, sit back, relax...

...but I need to KILL.

"Let. Me. Loose," I filter through my gritted teeth, almost foaming at the corners of my mouth like a rabid animal. Then a maniacal giggle gurgles in my throat. "And I'll show you something fun!"

"For fuck's sakes, you're beginning to sound like Orin," Gortash shakes his head in disappointment. "I'm sure you'd have fun, my dear, but if I'm not completely off my game, I believe you would regret it later. Maybe you would even cry for me?" His brows form a hopeful little arch, a soft smile playing on his lips. "I'm not keen on finding out, but I'd like to think you would."

I growl, pulling on my binds with all my strength.

"Don't be a spoilsport, Enver, come on!" I tease, baring my teeth, my tone dark, rough, vulgar. "I know you like the pain. I will cut you and slice you and bleed you real nice. You'll love it, I promise."

"Ssshhh," he soothes, caressing my face, skillfully evading my bites. "You can cut me when you calm down, Talas. You won't get to kill me today."

Anger jolts through me, hot like a branding iron. I lurch at him, uselessly dangling on the ends of the thick chains tying the leather cuffs to the bed frame.

"You will let me loose! And I'll tear you to pieces." My voice scratches like sandpaper. "I will slit your throat... and as you bleed out, I will lick blood off your soft skin." Growls turn to hisses. "I will drink blood from your sweet lips. I will shower in the thick stream of it as the last pathetic bubbles of your breath emerge and burst at the edges of the fresh cut. Then curl against your struggling chest to listen as your heart stops."

Gortash smiles as he listens, infuriatingly misty gaze softening his features.

"That sounds almost romantic," he purrs. He holds my hair firmly in his fist to keep my head steady and nuzzles my neck, slowly kissing a line from my shoulder up to my lobe. "I always thought the Urge was purely homicidal," he hums against my skin, "but is it possible you're mixing in your love and lust for me? Would you kill me like a lover?"

A chortle escapes my lips and I realize he's given me back a sliver of myself. I don't have the capacity to analyze if it were his words or his touch, but a tiny, heavily suppressed part of me suddenly knows what's happening. It knows this is not me. My Urge is spreading through me like a malignant growth, filling every inch of my torso, of my head, and that little piece of me is watching in horror.

No....

I let out a tortured moan and my head lulls back for a second. I can feel my body spasming and the agony is making it hard to keep my thoughts remotely clear. I hear my blood thrum in my ears, and a low voice speaks inside my skull:

It is wise to obey me. Yet you resist. You did not kill the Moonmaiden. You did not kill the druid. But you WILL kill the Tyrant's Chosen.

Or you will DIE in his place, child.

I feel tears trickle out of my eyes, even as my mouth is making raw, animalistic noises. The pressure in my temple grows so much I feel like my head is going to pop. It's excruciating, but I have no intention to submit. I fight with all my will, defiantly flipping off the god I didn't choose till the bitter end.

"En... ver," I squeeze through the teeth I grind so roughly my jaw hurts. My voice is but a wet wail, a desperate plea—but it's mine.

If I could focus on anything beside the blinding pain, I would see the alarm in his face. I register his hands on my arms, holding me upright. The sound of his voice carries over my head, but I can't distinguish the words. A high-pitched whine fills my ears. My vision fades to black again.

And I fully expect to not wake up this time.

03 We are still alive!

A chunk of void. A big skull in the center of it. Flames dancing in its eye sockets and around it. Almost playful.

I don't understand its meaning. Who am I, anyway?

Even though the skull is clearly before me, I can feel it surround me. It presses on my temples and squeezes my chest. I feel a headache of the century crush my head in its metal jaws.

A creature slinks from behind the skull. Hideous, covered in blood. Long body with a thick tail and four clawed arms. It hisses and chitters, spreading its toothy mandibles. Its beady little eyes are flashing with malice.

I cover my head with my arms as it jumps at me.

But it's not there anymore. I try to gasp, but a sick clicking sound comes out of my mouth instead. I hear rumbling laughter—the giant skull is pleased, it's mocking me.

I reach forward and instead of hands I see claws coated in fresh blood...

.

...and I wake up screaming.

There's water everywhere. I thrash and splash and heave for breath, but my arms are wrapped tight around me and my wrists and ankles bound. I accidentally splash water into my mouth, breathe it in and start choking.

Someone's big, strong, incredibly warm hands fish me out and steady me, patting my back, helping me cough. I hear a soft rumble, but this time it's not eerie and foreboding—it's familiar and soothing. A broad palm strokes my wet hair, humming comforting sounds in my ear.

"You are safe, my love. I'm here."

I lift my heavy eyelids and look up. Halsin's beautiful face is in my view and my heart is uplifted. He puts a cold compress over my forehead and I feel a little better.

"Halsin," I squeeze out of my burning throat, failing to make it sound as loving as I felt.

He smiles anyway and his eyes sparkle with affection.

"You will be alright, my heart. I will take care of you."

"I will too," I hear another voice and Gortash steps into view, obviously annoyed by Halsin taking all the credit. He's hugging his chest, nibbling on the ends of his gold claws, looking anxious and worried.

I finally realize where I am. It's Gortash's study. The flames roar in the fireplace next to the bathtub and all lamps are lit: it's dark behind the tall windows. Through the finally calm water I see my body, completely naked.

But none of those things are important right now.

"Come closer, Enver," I croak, failing to produce a seductive voice, sounding like a hag instead. "Untie me, let's have some fun. We haven't finished what we've started."

Halsin and Gortash exchange glances. It only ticks off my Urge. I flail back and forth in the tub for a second, trying to loosen the binds, but they were put on by someone who knew what they were doing. It infuriates me, tearing a ragged scream from my lungs.

"COME CLOSER, BABY, AND LET ME GUT YOU!"

"Nara," Halsin pleads softly, stroking my hair again, putting back the compress I shook off and adding one to the back of my neck. "You will get through this, I promise. The tepid water and the cold compresses should help lower your blood pressure, so you don't suffer an aneurysm. You popped many blood vessels before you passed out. That's why Gortash called me here."

I feel the Urge let up just a smidge when the cool rags press on my aching head and Halsin's voice and touch give me comfort. I try to breathe deeply and steadily. But no matter how hard we both try, it's no use. I take one look at distressed Gortash and the pull is back in full strength.

"Have you experienced this before?" Gortash asks, doing his best to ignore my rabid growls.

"She woke me up in camp several nights ago," Halsin nods somberly. "Refusal to kill Isobel redirected the Urge at the person closest to her heart, as punishment. She came to me before it overtook her and put her trust in me. It lasted the whole night, but she won in the end. But it was not this bad..."

"He..." I try to utter words that are not permitted to leave my lips. I fight my own muscles to continue. "Said... He... Dies or... I do."

Halsin's brows join in surprise and he glances at Gortash again, whose face darkens even more.

"Sounds like we really pissed Bhaal off this time. She screamed at him, defying him, before the Urge took over. I was just an outside observer, but I figured he was communicating with her. Seems like we know the gist of the conversation now."

"What were you doing?" Halsin wonders.

"Nothing much," Gortash shrugs evasively. "Talking. Talas was learning more about our past, about how and why she came to such an unceremonial end in the cult. Said none of her memories of me returned to her. Clearly Bhaal's job."

"Nhhhnnnhhhng!" I add my gold to the discussion, thrashing in the tub again. I'm glad I'm at least able to follow their words, even though I can't contribute. Sweet images of me running my hands through Gortash's spilled guts flash in the back of my mind, but they're just white noise.

Halsin wipes my upper lip with a troubled expression. He lets go of me to touch the air in that divine way of his, to call upon Silvanus, and pulls healing energy out of nowhere, pressing it to my head with the broad palm of his hand. I breathe a little easier for a few moments.

"If this goes on for much longer, I'm afraid even I might not be able to help you," he sighs, squeezing his eyes shut, pressing his forehead to mine. I gulp and just moan in response, hoping my intonation will convey my thanks.

"I don't suppose we could trick the Urge somehow? Have her stab me a couple of times and then knock her out, and when she comes around I'll be lying in a pool of blood and... You get it."

Halsin chuckles in amusement.

"You would just let her stab you? Are you a masochist, or just so in love?"

"What kind of question is that?" Gortash growls defensively. "We have a problem. I'm offering a solution. If I had to die, I'd prefer it to be by her hand, but I plan no such thing just yet."

"I do not think it works quite like that," Halsin shakes his head. "But thank you for the offer."

"It's... my fault she's like this." Gortash's discomfort at admitting responsibility is evident. "I don't want her to die. So if you have ideas, I'll do anything to help."

"You can help me right now, Enver," I screech, failing to restrain myself. "Come here! Come and make love to me. But don't forget to untie me and bring me a knife. I'll show you a little trick! You'll be positively drained after I'm done with you."

"Perhaps the best thing you can do to help is to get out of her sight for now," Halsin suggests and only a touch of derision reaches his tone.

Gortash frowns and grumbles something under his breath, but takes his leave. There's only Halsin's broad form next to me now, effectively shielding me from seeing Gortash. My Urge immediately eases up and I lean back on the headrest, exhausted from fighting my own muscles.

It doesn't last long, though.

"Halsin?" I coo, swallowing hard as I feel another crushing wave of twisted need.

"Yes, my heart?" He bends down to kiss my forehead. It doesn't work as well as before, but I manage to hold back the instinct to bite.

"I love you," I tell him while I can still form words of my own choosing. "And I'm grateful for everything you do for me. Don't take this personally, but now that you're getting in my way of killing Gortash... I'm beginning to want to kill you, too."

He pulls away, but not far, and studies my face. I can see so much compassion in his eyes, but they're tired and he looks older. He wipes my upper lip again and sighs.

"This is going to be another long night, isn't it, my love?"

.

"Halsin, stop," I mumble weakly as he prepares another spell, looking more and more sapped every time. "Please. Just... let me go."

I'm so run down. The pain is debilitating. In the rare moments of peace, all I can do is float. My mind is fried, my organs struggling to keep running. I've had enough.

But the worst is the thought of accidentally pulling Halsin under with me.

"Do not even start," he growls. His voice sounds dry and spent, but he collects the healing energy and once more fixes some of the damage the high blood pressure has done to my vessels.

I want to cry, but I don't have the strength to do it. But I notice something: it's been really quiet for some time.

"Where's Enver?"

"He is... off trying something else."

The evasiveness would normally make me inquire, but the Urge lashes out again, spasming my body, forcing more horrible words out of my mouth.

"I WILL SKIN YOUR LUSCIOUS PELT, LITTLE BEAR! I WILL WEAR IT ON MY BODY AS I WATCH YOUR PATHETIC ATTEMPTS TO PUT YOUR GUTS BACK IN YOUR BELLY. I WILL—"

04 Unbearable lightness of unprecedented fluff.

I feel like I must have died when I open my eyes and nothing hurts anymore. The world is soft and quiet, the water around me like a blanket, the dim flickering lights enhancing the peaceful silence. Perhaps this was the afterlife.

"Welcome back."

I don't recognize the voice at first. I slowly turn my head to find Halsin—

—but I look into Gortash's worn out face, languidly blinking at me. I see a giant bear slumped on the rugs by the bathtub, exhausted from keeping me alive.

I watch Gortash in fear for a little moment. But there's no tug, no agony this time. I only feel... slight elation. My weary heart flutters, tapping into its last reserves of power.

"Enver," I whisper, letting my eyelids fall. I feel his palm cup my cheek and his lips plant a soft kiss on my forehead. Tears stream down my face, but I can't gather enough strength to sob.

It's over. It's really over. At least for now.

"Sshh," he coos quietly, combing my hair. "Do you feel like you can handle moving to the bed? I'm afraid you'll melt if you stay in that bathtub for much longer."

I take a few breaths and nod. The instant I move, I can feel all my muscles scream in protest, but I push myself through it. He's right, my skin is getting tender from soaking so much, I can't just sleep here anymore.

He unties me and that's when the ache in my arms and hands joins the party, making me whimper. I've struggled against my own body for hours and hours with only short reprieves of unconsciousness. It's taken a heavy toll. But I'm alive, and so is everyone else.

My legs are so wobbly I slip back into the water a few times, splashing around, sprinkling sleeping Halsin. His snout twitches and I hear a grumble, but he doesn't wake up. Poor thing.

Gortash is trying to hold me upright, but his angle is all wrong, standing next to the tub. But on my fourth try I manage. I just lock my knees and hope it'll be enough for a minute. I notice the water in the bath is surprisingly fresh after housing me for so long, but it's already draining—someone must've changed it several times during the night.

I gasp in surprise when warm drops start raining down on my head and shoulders.

"Another handy technological marvel," Gortash smiles. "Just try to keep yourself on your feet. Let me wash you."

He takes a sponge and a bar of soap and begins slowly rubbing my skin under the gentle, refreshing shower.

I'm too busy keeping my knees locked and staying awake to have any deep opinions on why he's being so caring. My foggy, tired mind is simply enjoying his attention.

He's gentle and thorough and doesn't shirk from any part of me, but doesn't linger for longer than necessary. I mistily welcome the muted rush of excitement his touch gives me and close my eyes, fully trusting him like I only could with my marbles scattered all over the floor.

"Mmm," escapes my lips. I don't know words, but apparently I can make sounds.

"Sit back down, I'll wash your hair," Gortash commands softly.

I sit curled up, my eyes shut, jaw slack, little mewls of pleasure coming out of my mouth. His fingers caress my scalp in circular motions, coaxing some blood back into my skin. It melts away my tension and feels so good against the leftover headache that still throbs in my skull.

Gortash picks up the shower head and rinses the shampoo foam off my hair. It finally hits me that it smells like him. I let out a quiet chuckle. Doesn't he have a special flower scented bottle for his feminine conquests? Maybe he just likes marking them this way.

He helps me stand back up again, dabs me with a towel and then wraps me in a robe.

"Come here, princess," he murmurs and pulls me into his arms.

And he carries me to the bed. I don't think I would protest even if I had the energy. I may be a strong independent woman... but this is nice.

He pushes a tray of food and drink to me and we both eat in silence. I can't force much into my wrecked throat, but I thirstily guzzle all the water and wine. The slight buzz is not helping my overused veins, but it does wonders for my cramped muscles.

Then I lie on my side, watching him freshen up and change. I finally have plenty of time and no capacity for shame; I take in every detail of him I can spot. The toned muscles of his legs. The line of fine dark hair on his chest going to his groin. The way his thick hair softly reflects light when it's crisp clean. The pleasant, earthy color of his skin. Every glance he tosses over to check up on me.

My heart flutters again. I gulp hard and convince my eyes to close, so I can't see any more of him.

Suddenly the mattress beside me sinks and I can feel him next to me. The warmth from his body envelops me, his scent fills my lungs and I find myself looking into his dark eyes. My poor blood pressure spikes again and I try making my gulps for air subtle, but I can see the delighted amusement deepen his crow's feet.

"Sleep," he sighs, studying my face. "You need to rest to get your strength back."

He runs his fingers through my damp hair and kisses my temple. His skin is soft and warm, but his short stubble and rough palms leave a tickling sensation that's driving me wild. I inhale a lungful of him and press my mouth to his jaw, testing the scratchy surface against my lips.

I can hear his breath quicken and feel his hand move to my shoulder and rub the silk of my borrowed robe. I take his face in my hands and bite this time—just a little, letting my teeth graze the stubble, enjoying the sweet scratch—and I hear a moan.

I forget myself. I forget who he is. I just want to keep tasting his skin.

His mouth is on mine. I hungrily welcome him in. His hand roams my body, kneading my flesh—mine frantically search his every surface, unable to decide where to stay. Perhaps I'm just cold from exhaustion, but I feel like he's radiating more heat than an average human being. I bathe in the warmth, pulling myself as close as possible.

The way he pulls air in through his teeth when I bite his lip is like music to my ears. How is this man so edible? He drags his fingertips across my face and I suck his thumb into my mouth. The low rumble of his chuckle travels right to the knot in my lower belly and my eyes roll back.

He presses me flush to his body, molding my flesh, and I let out a feral groan, grabbing fistfuls of his thick hair and pulling. I need him. I need him now.

His mouth moves to my neck, but he doesn't kiss and nibble like I want him to, he takes me by the nape and immobilizes me. I can hear his ragged breath in my ear as I blink in bewilderment.

"Talas," he exhales desperately. "I know your opinion of me has taken a sharp dive... but I don't fuck mentally compromised women."

He lets me pull away and I stare at him in doubt. He snorts, shrugging.

"Alright, I guess sometimes I do," he admits, "but I just know you'll wake up in the morning with your wits intact and hate me for taking advantage of you."

The hum of blood in my ears quiets down as I swallow my disappointment. Tears sting in my eyes; I can't tell why, but I feel robbed. He sighs and pulls me closer again, but only to hug me.

"I've missed you so much," he whispers into my hair. "I don't want to ruin this." Running his fingers through my hair once more, spreading soothing tingling over my skin, he rocks me gently. "Sleep. I promise I'll make it up to you later... if you still want me to."

I can barely hear his last words, but I sense the uncertainty in his tone. The pressure around my chest tightens and I wrap my arms around him and hold on. The pleasurable hormones surrender the stage to the exhaustion in my muscles and bones. I feel myself falling asleep even before my consciousness drifts off.

05 Warm bodies.

The soft light creeping in through my closed eyelids rouses me gently, but I'm so tired everything still feels like a dream. I cling to my drowsiness and try to go back to sleep again.

Then I feel a warm palm on my hip, stroking the silky fabric covering me.

I shift slightly, moving into the touch, and the hand slowly travels across my back. Another joins it, caressing my thigh. I moan quietly, reaching out for a body to hold—

—and I find two. Both are very warm and my hungry touch is ecstatic to feel each pressed to one side of me. I gently squirm between them, rubbing myself against soft muscle that eagerly responds in kind. Their musky scent is both soothingly familiar and enticingly erotic. I can hear two breaths and two sets of soft sighs as I let my palms feel my way across their skin.

I open my eyes and meet Gortash's sleepy eyes watching me. My heart jumps up into my throat and I jolt into a sitting position. I turn to find Halsin on the other side—probably crawled onto the bed when he felt strong enough to move again.

"Shit," I mumble under my breath, quickly removing myself off the satin sheets.

"And it was just getting good," Gortash laments wistfully, a tone of amusement coloring his raspy voice.

"Seriously? Jokes?" I pull my robe tighter around my body, suddenly self-conscious about being completely naked under a thin layer of translucent fabric, and prop my hands against my hips. "Did you even realize you were groping me right next to my partner?"

"As I recall, you were enthusiastically groping me back, sweetheart," he smirks. "A few hours back you didn't mind making out in front of him."

I gape mutely at them both for a second.

"I was out of my mind!"

Halsin groggily drags himself off the bed and holds me close, patting my back comfortingly.

"I'm sorry," I hum into his chest.

"There is nothing to be sorry for, my heart." He kisses the top of my head.

I push away to look at him sternly. "Yes, there is. You've spent your whole night taking care of me at great cost to yourself and the first thing I do when I'm finally okay is this? Not even my mental state is an excuse. I only want to make you feel loved and safe, not uncomfortable and uncertain. I don't deserve you."

Instead of appreciating my commitment, albeit failed, I see pain flash in his eyes.

"Halsin?" I sniffle, my chest filling with dread. "Please don't leave me."

His expression melts into a touched one. He cups my face and smiles softly.

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise," he rasps. "Not until you decide otherwise, my love. You have nothing to fear. I will always be by your side, for as long as you'll have me."

I feel tears trickle down my face, the relief mixing into my terror tapping a generous stream.

"Now I'm sorry," he sighs, futilely trying to wipe my tears away with his fingers. "I misunderstood. I thought..."

He didn't have to explain. It didn't even come to mind at first, but I figured it out.

"You thought I would replace you with him?" I chuckle through the turmoil in my chest. "Not in a million years."

"Yes, don't mind me," Gortash growls and removes himself from the bed as well. His face looks like it's carved from stone, cold and hard. We both watch him as he locks himself in the next room, leaving us alone.

"I think you hurt his feelings," Halsin says quietly and I can hear commiseration in his voice. "He really is in love with you, sweet thing."

"Well, I'm not in love with him," I snap. "I don't want to have anything to do with him."

I'm still raw from the suffering Bhaal has inflicted on me, and the realization of just how much my heart has softened towards Gortash puts me on edge. The possibility of hurting Halsin through another bit of my unfortunate past just piles on top of that.

"Far be it from me to push you towards another man," he smirks, mild amusement creeping into his expression. "But I don't want you to limit yourself on my behalf, Nara. I thought you understood that I don't wish to own you." He takes my hands and kisses my knuckles. "If that is what you need, you are free to be with anyone else to any extent you deem necessary for your happiness. I only want you to be safe and happy by my side. That is my only goal."

I close my eyes and let him lean his forehead against mine.

"You know that's my goal too, right?" I mumble.

I can sense he doesn't believe my words—never have. But I haven't figured out why. I really mean it. He's the ray of sunshine in my bleak days. I want him to keep shining at all costs, even if I'm not the one basking in the beams.

"You deserve all the joy you can get, my heart," he whispers. "Do not make me the one to stand in your way. I will always wait for you to come back home to me."

I swallow a new wave of tears. "Then let's go right now."

"No," he sighs. "I will go. You seem to have unfinished business here. When you are ready, find me in camp. I believe you are safe here, at least for as long as you don't try to kill him first," he chuckles.

"I just might," I grouse. "He's playing a dangerous game here. I didn't think he'd be so bold to try to seduce me in front of you. Didn't he notice how big you are? Doesn't he think you'd rip him to pieces if he pisses you off?"

"I think he knows he has a chance." Halsin gives me a slightly patronizing glance, likely getting tired of my refusal to acknowledge my weakness. "Doesn't he?"

"I don't want to have anything to do with him," I repeat, but my voice falters.

He smiles, presses his face to mine and inhales deeply. "I can smell your arousal, little duck," he chastises softly, combing my hair with his fingers.

"That's for you, too," I frown, a little embarrassed, recalling the unexpectedly pleasant first moments of my morning.

"I know," he nods and this time I can tell he's certain. "But you two have history. Unless you explore this road, you might spend the rest of your life wondering 'what if'... I don't want that for you. I don't want that for myself. Whatever you do, I would like you to be sure that you're not missing out on something. I will be here if you decide to come back to me."

I have no more to say. I let him press a kiss to my lips and watch him exit the room. I don't follow. I keep standing where he left me, hugging my shoulders.

"I can't believe you actually stayed."

I whip around to find Gortash in the doorframe, dressed and tidied up, shaved and smelling fresh. He's leaning on the doorframe and though his face is still grim, his swagger doesn't seem to have suffered irreparable damage.

"Don't congratulate yourself just yet, Enver," I sneer.

"Oh, don't be crabby, baby," he purses his lips in mock comfort. "You landed such a perfect boyfriend. I'm jealous, now I want one, too. Hurry up and break his soft heart—maybe he'll be interested in me instead."

"I'm not breaking his heart," I spit. "I love him."

That sentence makes him wince, but he recovers in record time, smirking like the bad boy he is.

"Then maybe I'll break it for you. When he's no longer there to enable you, will you run back into my arms?"

I don't realize I'm moving before I have his stupid tall collar bunched up in a fist, pushing him against the door. I bare my teeth, my nose a hair's-width away from his. My tortured muscles protest against such treatment, but the rush of adrenaline outvotes them.

"Touch him and I'll kill you," I hiss into his face. "Stone or no stone."

The initial flash of surprise, even fear, is quickly replaced with a seductive smile.

"Gods, I missed this fire," he grunts, grabbing my waist and pulling me flush to his body. "Too bad your devotion belongs to another now."

I tear from his grasp, gritting my teeth so hard they squeak. I don't know what else to do; hurting him only gave him twisted pleasure. So I stomp off to the bathroom, looking for my things, so I can leave this cursed place already.

06 Payback is a bitch.

I dress up in my clothes that feel like they've been freshly cleaned and pressed, and complete my morning routine with the conveniently offered supplies left in the bathroom for me. As I put on my gauntlet I have to stop and lean against the sink. My thoughts are spiraling.

Remembering all that I've done since I arrived at this tower is making me hyperventilate. Gods, I really did nearly jump Gortash's bones. My reason was clearly damaged, but... Gathering my wits didn't erase the desire. I still want him. I hate everything he stands for... but I can barely resist him.

I stare into my scarred face in the mirror, hoping to understand my own mind. Even if I really used to love him in the past doesn't mean I should now. It physically hurts me to imagine Karlach's probable response to that. And Wyll's. And everyone's, really. Apart from some of my companions who would prefer to take control of the Brain, or even to actually team up with the Tyrant's Chosen, none would approve.

"Oh, fuck me," I mumble.

I close my eyes for a few long seconds, trying to get a hold of myself. It doesn't help; my mind is serving me memories of Gortash's gentle, respectful touch, in blinding contrast to what I thought I knew about him. How does that happen? Was he just that good at playing me? Or was it genuine?

Poor Halsin. Perhaps the thing that scares me most is his disapproval. Would he stay by my side if I succumbed to my twisted desires? Would he be open to sharing me with a man who doesn't care who he abuses as long as it serves his power-hungry agenda? Even he must have a limit to what he's willing to tolerate.

I slam my hand against the mirror and growl. I feel like I'm being split in two. One part will not let go of the beautiful, peaceful vision of what life can be with Halsin. The other... the darkness in me, one that has nothing to do with the Urge, craves to be nourished, to be recognized and utilized, to be accepted.

Can I have both? Or is that just a mad hope of a lobotomized freak?

I need to get out of here, now.

I rush out of the room, then into the Audience hall. I'm hoping it's deserted and no one will notice me leaving, but Gortash is once again comfortably seated on the throne, his alert eyes on me the second I come into his field of vision. I slump my shoulders and frown, turning to him.

"Hey, look," I choose a neutral tone, nonchalantly hooking thumbs in my pockets, "I gotta go. We have lots to do in the city. There's a vamp that begs to be staked, a pregnant hag on the loose, and also Orin's not gonna kill herself."

"Ah, yes," Gortash drawls, getting up and slowly sauntering towards me. "You're very busy. The slayer of Ketheric Thorm. The hero who's lifted the Shadow Curse. Pretty impressive."

I purse my lips, glaring at him. Of course he figured out it was us who exchanged his planned article in Baldur's Mouth for a puff piece on us.

"Yeah, it would be a shame if we were slandered instead of celebrated, don't you think?" I nip sarcastically.

"Why do you think I made you come here, my dear," he tosses me a sour grin. "You get in my way, I get in yours. You'd do best to remember that."

I roll my eyes, folding my arms over my chest. I actually considered thanking him for what he'd done for me tonight, but I'm not in the mood to do that anymore.

"Yeah, yeah. If you're done threatening me, mind letting me go? Like I said, lots to do. You want the netherstone, or not?"

Gortash stops maybe an inch from me and leans in to whisper in my ear: "You're not a prisoner here, sweetheart."

A powerful shiver runs through me, so strong I can't possibly hide it. His gaze slides down my body and lips twist in a delighted, sinful smirk. My breath hitches at the sight of him and his scent makes my throat go dry.

He pulls back to a little more respectful distance. "But I thought you might want to have that brunch on the balcony I planned for us yesterday. Don't worry," he chuckles, "I had my cook make us fresh food—birds seem to have eaten the last batch, anyway." His gaze lingers on my eyes, gauging my thoughts. "It's sunny outside. I want to sit with you, talk and enjoy the view from this tower."

Still reeling from the mind boggling reaction I'm having to his closeness, I swallow hard. 'What's the worst that can happen' isn't even a question here. I know what can happen. I know what my body, my own treacherous body, wants to happen. But maybe... just maybe... if I spend more casual time in his presence, this assault of hormones will stop.

After all, there's nothing more off-putting than really getting to know the horrible man you're attracted to. Could be just what I need to get over him.

07 What's the worst that can happen?

I let him lead me onto the balcony. Any thoughts get knocked out of me as soon as I lean over the stone wall and stare at the city stretching below us.

I've only spent two weeks here since we arrived, and from up-close it never quite seemed as grand as people tend to describe it. It's big and loud and overcrowded and smelly... But it seems gorgeous from this high above. No wonder Gortash wants to settle up here permanently.

I don't appreciate the thick atmosphere of this place. I miss the clean waters and animal white noise of the picturesque location the nautiloid crashed in. Even the Underdark is breathtaking in its menacing way.

This doesn't feel like home anymore. It's familiar, but I'm a different person.

Much like what I could say about Gortash. The fact that we used to be a thing shouldn't mean that we have to be it again.

I have so many questions it feels like a chunk of anxiety is balled up inside me—I don't even know what to ask specifically, I just know I need a lot of answers. I want to understand what happened between us and how. And how can a man so callous, so cruel to everything else be so gentle and sweet with me.

I have to know what game he's playing. Is he hoping to weaken me? Stab me in the back as soon as I kill Orin and take both the netherstones off my cooling flesh? Was any of what he showed me real?

"Heavy thoughts, Talas?"

I sigh and turn away from the view to see him comfortably sprawled on an actual rug stretched over the stone floor.

"Couldn't get a blankie?" I quip, shaking my head. "Your ass get too soft?"

"Well, since I don't have to live rough anymore, I just don't do it," he chuckles, tapping a spot next to him. "Come have some comfort, too. I imagine you're not used to it anymore, being on the road for so long."

"I think I pretty much forgot what comfort felt like when that Myrkulite bitch of a torturer got a hold of me," I say dryly as I make my way to the picnic. I immediately see the change in his expression and his fists clenching.

I sit down and stretch my legs in front of me. "Do all your Absolute lackeys respect you this much, or was she special?"

"That's still under investigation," he growls darkly. An image of his most loyal soldiers beating information out of the slightly less loyal soldiers crosses my mind. "The nerve on her. The nerve on Ketheric. He should've told me."

"I guess plotting to take over the world doesn't make for the best bonding time," I smirk, picking up a chalice of wine.

"True," he nods, deciding to wash his rage down with some wine as well. "This is not a circle of trust. I even had to kill a number of my own for being too ambitious. Mostly when they tried to assassinate me to take my place. Or get to me through you."

"Hm," I grimace, not ready to believe I was so important to him that he wouldn't sacrifice me in a blink of an eye if it brought him enough reward. "How do you know I won't kill you? Bhaal sounded pretty determined. He'll try again. You might not get so lucky this time."

"He won't. Not until you get rid of Orin."

I raise my eyebrows at him and toss a few grapes in my mouth. "How would you know?"

Gortash pauses, looking away, squinting at the sky.

"Last night I told her what was happening, got her properly pissed off. I promised you would come to her, which is what you want, anyway. She went to talk to him, to convince him she's capable of defeating you. I hoped she had the pull—and it looks like she does, because it worked. Bhaal wants you to ritually combat her at the Temple just a smidge more than he wants me dead—and can always make either of you do it later."

He says it in such a matter-of-fact tone as if he didn't just confess to virtually saving my life. I gape at him mutely, wine forgotten half-way to my lips.

"Well," I chuckle in disbelief, "I'm stunned that you didn't brag about it immediately."

"I knew you would see it as bragging, no matter when I told you," he rolls his eyes, chugging his wine. "So I wasn't going to. Until you asked."

I shrug and nod, admitting that's true. I'm always ready to believe the worst of him. Just in case.

"But you should know." He turns to me, face serious, gaze intense. He takes my hand and squeezes. "When Orin is dead, he will sic you on me. It won't matter what you feel or what your agenda is. This time he'll have no reason to relent, he will have one of us dead."

He sighs and tucks a loose strand of my hair behind my ear with the same tenderness I tasted last night. His eyes are warm and gentle.

"If nothing else works... I will let you kill me," he whispers and my breath catches in my throat. "Which is why I suggest you keep your word and we finish our plan together. If we're successful, we might have enough power to keep him away from us."

I watch his hair flow in the breeze around his face. He lets go of my hands and looks to the sky again, as if the endlessness of it helped him feel like he has more options, more freedom.

"So, at the least, we have until you kill her."

His voice is so heavy, raspy, wistful, I shiver again. He doesn't even suggest that we actually stay together or anything... he's just contemplating the near future, counting down days until he might not see me again. Or live.

"You would just let me kill you?" I ask, suddenly reminded of Halsin's similar question from last night. Gortash brushed it off then and I was too busy trying to survive, but it hits differently now.

I see his throat jump as he gulps. He seems to mull over his answer. Then squeezes his eyes shut.

"I began hatching the Absolute plan for my sake only. I wanted power and control. But then you came..." He flashes me a glance, almost shy. "And things changed. So slowly I didn't even notice at first. But I started to work towards a different goal. I wanted to make this work for us. Make the world the perfect place for us to be happy in. To do whatever we want, to have all the comforts, all the fun."

He pauses for a long time. I'm wracking my brain to try to remember something, anything, so that I could confirm his words, but the memory of him is still as incorporeal as before.

Before I figure out how to react, he speaks up again:

"I didn't know how differently it could end," he rasps and I'm in shock to notice his eyes getting somewhat wet. "How someone could hate me, hate you, so much that they would tear us apart and destroy everything." This time he looks at me steadily, though I can see how much effort it takes him to not let his sight run away again. "I love you, Talas. We were having so much fun I hadn't realized it... until I lost you."

I rapidly blink in utter bewilderment. My heart squeezes hard. I feel tears fighting their way out of my eyes. I can taste bitterness in the back of my throat. As if the only thing I could remember about our past is how heartbreaking it was to be separated from him like this.

And I realize that I believe him. It makes sense. Bhaal's ultimatum revealed one thing: this murder was personal to him. I really must have been in love with Gortash before my disappearance. Enough to make the Lord of Murder feel threatened and want our bond broken.

And I'm beginning to see why—to see past my initial impression of him, past his flaws and sins. It makes me scared. What happens if I give in to it, even if just for a little while?

But just how much time to decide do I really have?

08 Innocence of a guilty man.

Turns out, I don't need much time at all.

Gortash's confession was so raw it's impossible for me to stop thinking about it. He's quiet as we eat our breakfast, and so am I, but my head is buzzing. The alcohol doesn't help hold my walls up, but I don't think being sober would save me now.

'We only have until you kill Orin.'

That could be mere days. We've only just arrived, but already met her more than once—sniffing around, gauging our weaknesses, snickering maniacally and giving us the creeps. If we don't strike first, she will. Not to mention the ticking clock that was the tadpole wriggling in my head, threatening to turn me into a tentacled monster the second the Brain breaks free of Gortash's and Orin's control. We are all screwed if we don't find her soon.

My mind ambushes me with slightly fuzzy memories of last night. The way Gortash washed me, the way he carried me to the bed like royalty, the way he cared. I don't have to run away and marry him in secret to enjoy him. I don't have to make any promises at all.

I can just have him one last time. Whatever happens next.

"Well," I peep, nervous about what I'm going to do, "since we're full, alone and have the time... maybe we can... uhm."

Gods, I'm awful at flirting. I'm so lucky Halsin decided to approach me first. We would still be hungrily circling each other if he hasn't.

To my utter dismay and embarrassment, Gortash laughs out loud. "You haven't improved one bit," he shakes his head.

"Shut up," I grunt, trying to hide in my hair.

He props himself on one elbow, reaching for my jaw, caressing me and pulling me down to him for a kiss.

"Your best line so far was 'I would love to carve you up real slow,'" he smirks, coaxing me to look up. "Fortunately, that worked like a charm on me."

My brow crinkles and I burst into vivacious laughter. It makes me feel better, more at ease. I guess I didn't change that much.

"Gods, it's been forever since the last time I heard that laughter," Gortash sighs, stricken.

He attacks my mouth voraciously, making me gasp into the kiss.

It's different than before. It's not libido that drives him this time. There's pain behind the layers of need. Pain of long separation, of deep grief, of lost hope, of impending death. He's virtually inhaling me, as if he would love nothing more than to blend into me.

I feel dizzy and compelled to return the kiss with the same intensity, even though I'm running out of breath. I don't want to hold back anymore. What good would it do me to fight my feelings when this is the last time I get to have him.

His skin is much smoother after the morning shave, but I can still feel the faint remnants of stubble gently scratching me. I run my fingers all over his face, trying to imprint every shape of him into my damaged brain. I come across the scar on his chin and the sensation feels more familiar than ever. I know I've touched this scar before.

His hand copies my movements, tracing my scars. They must be new to him; Orin left them on me when she tried to kill me. He remembers my face when it was still flawless, yet his fingers are feeling my new imperfections with reverence.

"Bleed that bitch slowly," he rasps against my skin. "Savor the kill. You deserve a sweet revenge for this."

"I wish I could do the same to Bhaal," I reply breathily.

"So do I, my love. So do I." He pulls away a little, skin flushed, eyes misty. "Let's go inside. It's chilly here, you might catch a cold."

I squeeze my eyes shut, half wanting to laugh, half crying. I feel him get onto his feet and the next thing I know I'm in his arms, carried like a princess once more. I hug his shoulders and hide in his neck, nibbling hungrily, making his breath catch as he's walking towards his study, gait a bit wobbly.

My legs are weak too—I nearly buckle as he puts me down by the bed. I steady myself holding onto him, while he's doing his best to keep my armor and clothes intact as he's pulling them off my body in ragged, desperate moves.

He pauses with his hands hovering over my offered gauntlet.

"What?" I wonder. "Think you won't be able to enjoy it without me hurting you?"

He tilts his head, squinting in the distance. "I don't think we've ever tried that."

"Just take it off," I say and put his fingers on my wrist. "If it's not enough, I can always use my nails."

"To be honest," he raises his eyebrows pensively, "I don't think I even care. I just want to be with you."

He shakes the metal off my hand and tosses it to the floor. Then his eyes find his own, with the glowing netherstone adorning it.

"I promise I won't steal it," I chuckle. "At least not until I have Orin's."

He doesn't seem to appreciate my teasing. He takes the gauntlet off, but quickly puts it in a small, sturdy looking metal box and locks it inside.

I roll my eyes. "Still don't trust me, Enver? Did I use to fuck people just to get their precious stuff and favors? I thought that was more your style."

"Just a precaution against whomever else might be sneaking through the tower," Gortash smirks and returns to me. "You weren't even interested in fucking until you met me," he touches my face. "Granted, you didn't have many eligible choices around you, with your father keeping you in dark tombs among abominations. But I taught you everything, little lover."

My breath hitches a little at the realization, but I gulp the shock down.

"Well, then I guess I'm glad you've been sleeping around with so many of your noble conquests. Would hate to be taught by someone inexperienced."

He laughs with his eyes shut, then sighs and pulls me into his embrace.

"Oh, Talas, don't be jealous. There's no need to drag nobles into my bed anymore. I did try to drown my grief in a few... but it never helped. You were my first in months."

I blink at him, stunned by his words yet again. "Explains why you looked like you hadn't bathed in weeks at your inauguration." I swallow hard, distressingly aware of his enticing scent now.

"I've let myself go a little, yeah," he admits with an amused grin. "My company didn't mind. I thought Ketheric smelled like death, but then I met Orin." I snort and he joins me. "That faint stench of rotting flesh makes me want to gag. You, though..."

He buries his nose in the crook of my neck, pulling off his clothes. "You." He inhales a lungful of me, groaning. I shiver, closing my eyes, running my fingers through his hair. "The sweetest thing I've ever tasted."

I yelp as he suddenly picks me up and lets us both collapse onto the bed. Our limbs tangle, skin grazing skin, our mouths lock in a thirsty dance of tongues. It's a strange feeling, like being with him for the first time, even though it's far from it. I'm not fighting him, not resisting unwelcome desires, not trying to pretend this isn't what I want... I give myself to him willingly and eagerly.

09 Your fingerprints all over me.

He pulls us higher and flips us over, so he could lean on the head of the frame with me on top. The unexpected exposure makes me flinch. I'm still getting used to showing all of myself even to Halsin, and this... I haven't had time to decide how to feel about it. But the way he watches me makes me shudder. His gaze worships every inch of me, his fingers following closely after. So I lean into his touch and close my eyes, letting my mind rest in the soft waves of pleasure.

"How are you even more breathtaking than before," Gortash whispers so quietly I'm not sure he even meant to be heard.

I look down at him, using the rapidly depleting brain capacity to study his face some more. I didn't think he was capable of such adoration. I'm trying to hold onto my healthy doubts for the sake of everyone who's put their trust in me, but it's getting truly difficult.

So I choose to focus on the rest of him instead. On how he makes me feel.

I let my hands wander over his body, enjoying the inexplicable electric sensation of touching his deliciously mocha skin. Making him shiver as I run through the fine hair on his chest he so likes to show off. His muscles are defined just the right amount, well hydrated and comfortably soft. The little love handle on his tummy makes my mouth water and my hips grind against him wantonly.

He groans and grabs me by the nape to pull me into a ravaging kiss. I lift off his lap just enough to help him slip inside me. I cry out softly, unable to hold back the sweet tears of ecstasy.

My needy mouth devours him. He holds my hip in a firm grip to help me ride him. The fingers of his free hand dig into my back, desperately pressing me to his chest, but the hurt they cause isn't physical. I don't want to look into his eyes, I know they will bewitch me.

But I fail and let his gaze swallow my soul.

I can't focus on kissing him anymore. I just lay my forehead on his shoulder and keep rolling my hips. I feel the crushing orgasm closing in when he rakes my hair and starts murmuring in my ear:

"I love you, Talas. I love you."

I let out a sob as it hits me like a wall. I'm not screaming or moaning—I'm crying. My heart is breaking, my soul is splitting... Yet, in the midst of my torment, there's mind boggling ecstasy shooting through my body like lightning.

He caresses my back, letting me ride out the last of the tremors, while I latch onto his mouth again, mixing his intoxicating taste with the salt of my tears. He doesn't seem bothered, drinking my inexplicable sorrow eagerly, thirstily.

I collapse onto his warm chest and keep softly sobbing into his flesh.

I remember now.

"Are you alright?"

I don't respond for a long while. I just keep slowly rolling my hips, not letting him stop making love to me. He listens to my intentional body language, running his fingers gently all over my skin, and lets me deal with it in peace before I'm ready to speak up.

"I love you too, Enver."

The leftover reason in my brain gags its mouth in horror. But I know that it's true. It's been true the whole time, I just didn't know, being stripped of all my memories of him.

The memories didn't return per se. Only feelings. I was a drooling mess, and still my heart yearned for something I lost. Someone I lost. I doubt I could even recall his name or his face... but I knew I needed him.

"Please," I sniffle, finally dragging myself up to look at him. "Make me forget how I know this. It hurts."

That strange sucking feeling in the center of my chest suddenly makes sense now. I've had it since the crash. My head was empty, but my heart ached for him.

"Talas," he whispers, cradling my head. I watch his eyes well up like mine.

I kiss him, letting him tangle his fingers in my hair. He presses my face closer to his and drowns in my mouth. When we're out of breath, he leaves my lips to travel up to my cheeks and eyes, kissing away every tear.

He wraps me in his arms and smoothly rolls us over, pressing my back into the red satin sheets. He holds my hands above my head and I expect him to get rough—I wouldn't mind having this gnawing emotional anguish knocked out of me with a delicious pounding I know he's keen to inflict.

But his fingers lace with mine and his eyes watch me with tenderness I didn't think he was capable of. He's not done fighting for me.

And I'm not done being loved by him.

I hold his gaze, studying the specs of color in his irises. I let out soft moans as he languidly moves inside me and kisses my mouth without breaking eye contact. And when my body begins buzzing, building up to another mind-shattering climax, I whisper his name. The first one slips from my lips accidentally, but as my mind clouds I get bolder. When my body spasms and my toes curl, I scream it over and over in between waves of ecstasy.

His gaze never wavers—up until his own finish catches him unprepared, drawing a surprised, tender whimper out of him. His body quivers, uncontrollably shooting hot seed inside of me as he holds me close, encasing me in his arms like something fragile and precious, moaning my name into my ear.

Mind blank, I just lay, limbs wrapped around him, not willing to let go. We stay like this, gently caressing each other, panting, cooling off. It's not until we start getting uncomfortable that we're finally forced to let go.

"How would you feel about having a bath together again?" Gortash suggests, his roguish smirk gracing his lips once more.

I'm all sweaty and sticky and full of his load, so I nod.

I don't want to leave just yet. Going back into the real world means being faced with responsibilities and morality. It means remembering what a menace this man is to the city. It means considering losing him forever if he decides to stand in our way. I'm not ready for that. Not after I had an emotional charge the size of an extinction-level catastrophic event go off in my chest just minutes ago.

10 One last chance.

Gortash fills the tub with hot water and takes me by the hand. But it seems like I'm not quite ready for this, either.

Come on. It's just a bathtub. The only place that's actually filled with horrors is your own head.

And I recall all the tenderness and care that happened around it, as well. Two diametrically different men doting on me, sacrificing their strength and favors for me. The thought further eats away at the walls of my poor heart.

"Need some help?" Gortash glances at me, evidently understanding my hesitation. His arm snakes around my waist and he kisses my temple. "Come on. I'll be in there with you. Promise not to tie you up this time—unless you want me to," he chuckles into my hair.

I snort and relax a little. There was really nothing to be afraid of; Bhaal was taken care of for now, there was no reason for my Urge to come out this soon. But my legs won't work.

"Yeah, I do need help," I sigh, draping myself over his shoulders.

He tosses me a wicked grin and picks me up. "You're getting used to this fast."

"It's a nice thing to get used to," I shrug innocently.

"You know you got heavy?"

"Maybe you got out of shape," I narrow my eyes at him, then we both laugh.

I almost don't notice how he submerges both of us in the pleasantly hot water. My heart thrums in my throat for a bit, but then Gortash starts rubbing my neck and shoulders, massaging the tension out of them. I let him do it for a while, then close my eyes and lay my head in the crook of his neck.

"Thanks for saving my life last night," I mumble and I really mean it. "I was ready to beg Halsin to mercifully end me. Wait, no, I did actually beg."

I feel his palm run along the side of my face, then his fingers combing my hair back in soothing motions. "It's the least I could do after putting you in danger. I'm so sorry, Talas."

"It wasn't your fault," I sigh. I know what he means, but... when two people fall in love, neither of them should be held responsible for the disproportional reaction of their relatives.

"I still can't believe how close you were this whole time," he rasps and I his hands ball into fists. "Bloody Ketheric. What a low, petty revenge for making him feel uncomfortable and redundant during our Absolute meetings."

I snort. "How were we getting on his nerves so much?"

I feel his chuckle reverberate into me through my back. "You used to like sitting on my lap and making out while he was speaking. And whenever you spaced out during discussions, or simply didn't have an opinion, you would always back me up, not even listening to his arguments."

"Oh," I grimace. "We were very dismissive of him. I'm not surprised he felt affronted."

"Oh, Talas." I hear exasperation in his voice. "He kept you in his dungeon as a toy for his deranged 'scientist' and let me believe you were dead. He deserved to get his tongue ripped out and be beaten to death with it. Would you really just forgive him?"

"I'm kidding," I turn to him, eyes still closed, and plant a kiss on his chin. "I hate his fucking guts. I'm just sad I wasn't able to make his death proper fun."

"There she is, my Bhaal-babe."

"We've met all of his children," I growl. "All cursed and deranged, almost begging to be put out of their misery. The man couldn't give two fucks about any of them, beside precious Isobel he raised from the dead in exchange for their lives, with thousands of innocent souls on top. He didn't deserve redemption and he knew it."

There's a long pause and I can feel Gortash tensing up.

"Do I?"

That knocks the breath out of my lungs. My eyes open wide, but I only stare into the distance.

Why would he even ask that? He didn't seem remorseful of his many, many sins. He looked straight in Karlach's face and looked pleased with himself. He tadpoled Wyll's father and shipped him who-knows-where the minute he got him to surrender his title. He subjugated a whole city and prepared to wage a fake war on it, just so he could pronounce himself its savior.

And those were only the deeds we knew about so far.

"Do you think you deserve it?" I deflect the question back at him, unsure how to respond. Suddenly I'm aware of how naked and defenseless I am in his presence again.

"Shh," he rubs my arms, noticing my discomfort. "I didn't mean to make you bristle up. In the end, Ketheric was left with no one who supported him out of their own free will. I know how depressing that is—I was in the same position before you returned. There's a big difference between doing things because you know you're alone against the world, and doing things for someone you love."

I scoff. "Well, if that's how you operate, how about you give me the stone and help me clean up this mess? Because that's the only way this," I gesture between him and myself, "is going anywhere. You know that what we just did doesn't really change anything between us, right?"

I can see the hurt in his eyes—but no surprise. He knows. He's just probing for another option. Or trying to manipulate me. Whichever.

He decides to abandon the topic. "We've never done it like this before," he studies my face. "You changed so much."

"Enver," I sigh, feeling almost bad for him. "How do you still want me back, when I'm not even the woman you remember?"

Silence. He evades my gaze, watching the sunlight behind the tall stained glass windows. He doesn't seem to understand it himself.

"I guess you've given my life more meaning than anything I've ever done before."

My heart and eyelids flutter, touched more deeply than I was willing to admit.

I know what that feels like. I could've let my Urge dictate my path, succumb to the thirst for blood and death, do what I knew to do best. Instead, I've found myself in people around me, people of varying degrees of 'good' who sometimes struggle as much as I do.

I've found purpose in keeping them alive. In helping them denounce their gods, avenge their traumas, fix their mistakes, save what's important to them. In loving them as much as they've grown to love me. They healed me in ways medicine and magic could never have done on their own.

They saved me, and now I would rather choose death than let a bloodthirsty god take control over my life again.

Perhaps Gortash would do the same...?

I don't dare to guess. Not until I see the change with my own eyes, in action, when I present the choice to him with Orin's netherstone in hand.

Because I've just decided that I will do just that. Despite everything he's done, everything that deserved grave, and likely final, punishment, I will allow him one last chance to do better.

Thank you for reading ♥

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I welcome comments and discussion on this topic!

Constructive criticism is not unwelcome, I'm not a native English speaker, so if something sounds strange to you, I'd like to know ♥

I was just on my way to tag when both of my lovely moots already read and reblogged xD. Anyway, thanks for being here for this, guys! ♥ @thoughts-of-bear @starfleetwithhorns