#ship tag: driving through the storm

[redrawthecolorlessworld]

Compiled Shit #24

wanskfmffk

———

———

———

———

?

———

———

———

———

———

———

😭

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 64

Chapter; Highlights

Hours later, Yrene was still shaking.

At the disaster they'd narrowly avoided, at the deaths she'd witnessed before that wave had struck, at the power of the queen on the plain. The power of the prince who had prevented the ensuing steam from boiling alive any caught in its path.

Yrene had thrown herself back into healing during the chaos since. Had left the royals and their commanders to oversee the aftermath, and had returned to the Great Hall. Healers drifted onto the battlefield, searching for those in need of help.

All of them, every single person in the keep or the skies or on the battlefield, kept glancing toward the now-empty gap between two mountain peaks. Toward the flooded, decimated city, and the demarcation line between life and death. Water and debris had destroyed most of Anielle, the former now trickling toward the Silver Lake.

A vision of what would have been left of them, were it not for Aelin Galathynius.

She'd been asked to inspect the queen when she'd been carried in to a private chamber by Prince Rowan, the two of them borne off the plain by Nesryn. Yrene hadn't been able to stop her hands from shaking as she'd hovered them over Aelin's unconscious body.

There had been no sign of harm beyond a few already-healing cuts and slices from the battle itself.

Nothing at all beyond a sleeping, tired woman.

Who held the might of a god within her veins.

Yrene had then inspected Prince Rowan, who looked in far worse shape, a sizable gash snaking down his thigh. But he'd waved her off, claiming he'd come too near a burnout, and just needed to rest as well.

So Yrene had left them, only to tend to another.

—

To Lorcan, whose injuries ... Yrene had needed to summon Hafiza to help her with some of it. To lend her power, since Yrene's had been so depleted.

The unconscious warrior, who had apparently tumbled right off Farasha as he and Elide had passed through the gates, didn't so much as stir while they worked on him.

That had been hours ago. Days ago, it felt.

Yes, she needed to rest.

But a horn, clear and bright, blared from outside.

Everyone halted-then rushed to the windows. Yrene's smile grew as she, too, found a place to peek out over the battlefield.

To where the rest of the khagan's army, Prince Kashin at its front, marched toward them.

Thank the gods. Everyone in the hall muttered similar words.

From the keep, an answering horn sang its welcome.

Not just one army had been spared here today, Yrene realized as she turned back to the water station. If that wave had reached Kashin.

…

Lucky. They had all been so, so very lucky.

Yet Yrene wondered how long that luck would last.

If it would see them through the brutal march northward, and to the walls of Orynth itself.

Lorcan let out a low groan as he surfaced from the warm, heavy embrace of darkness.

"You are one lucky bastard."

Too soon. Too damn soon after hovering near death to hear Fenrys's drawl.

Fenrys's smirk was a slash of white.

"You've been out for a day. I drew the short stick and had to look after you."

A lie. For whatever reason, Fenrys had chosen to be here.

Lorcan thumped his head back on the pillow. "Elide." Her name was a rasp on his tongue.

The last he remembered, they'd ridden through the gates, Aelin Galathynius's unholy power spent. Then oblivion had swept in.

"Helping with the healing in the Great Hall," Fenrys said, stretching out his legs before him.

Lorcan closed his eyes, something tight in his chest easing.

"Well, since you're not dead," Fenrys began, but Lorcan was already asleep.

Lorcan awoke later. Hours, days, he didn't know.

The candle was still burning on the narrow windowsill, down to its base. Hours, then.

He didn't care. Not when the dim light revealed the delicate woman lying facedown on the end of his cot, the lower half of her body still on the wooden chair where Fenrys had been. Her arms cradled her head, one outstretched toward him. Reaching for his hand, mere inches from hers.

Elide.

Her dark hair spilled across the blanket, across his shins, veiling much of her face.

Wincing at the lingering ache in his body, Lorcan stretched his arm just enough to touch her fingers. They were cold, their tips so much smaller than his. They contracted, pulling away as she sucked in a sharp, awakening breath.

Lorcan savored every feature as she grimaced at a crick in her neck. But her eyes settled on him. She went still as she found him staring at her, awake and utterly in awe of the woman who had ridden through hell to find him ...

Tired. She looked spent, yet her chin remained unbowed.

Lorcan had no words. He'd given her everything on the back of that horse anyway.

But Elide asked, "How do you feel?" Aching. Exhausted. Yet finding her sitting at his bedside... "Alive," he said, and meant it.

Her face remained unreadable, even as her eyes dipped to his body. The blanket had slid down enough to reveal most of his torso, though it still hid the scarred-over wound in his abdomen. Yet he'd never felt so keenly naked.

It was an effort to keep his breathing steady beneath her sharp-eyed gaze. "Yrene said you would have died, if they hadn't gotten to you when they did."

"I would have died," he said, voice like gravel, "if you hadn't braved hell to find me." Her gaze lifted to his. "I made you a promise."

"So you said."

Was that a hint of color stealing across her pale cheeks? But she didn't balk. "You said some interesting things, too."

Lorcan tried to sit up, but his body gave a burst of pain in protest.

Elide explained, "Yrene warned that though the wounds are healed, some soreness will linger."

Lorcan gritted his teeth around the sharp stab in his back, his stomach. He managed to get onto his elbows, and deemed that progress enough. "It's been a while since I was so gravely injured. I'd forgotten what an inconvenience it is."

A faint smile tugged on her mouth.

His heart halted. The first smile she had given him in months and months. Since that day on the ship, when he'd touched her hand as they'd swayed in their hammocks.

Her smile faded, but the color on her cheeks lingered. "Did you mean it? What you said." He held her stare. Let some inner wall within him come crumbling down. Only for her. For this sharp-eyed, cunning little liar who had slipped through every defense and ironclad rule he'd ever made for himself. He let her see that in his face. Let her see all of it, as no one had ever done before. "Yes."

Her mouth tightened, but not in displeasure.

So Lorcan said softly, "I meant every word." His heart thundered, so wildly it was a wonder she couldn't hear it. "And I will until the day I fade into the Afterworld."

Lorcan didn't breathe as Elide gently reached out her hand. And interlaced their fingers. "I love you," she whispered.

He was glad he was lying down. The words would have knocked him to his knees. Even now, he was half inclined to bow before her, the true owner of his ancient, wicked heart.

"I have loved you," she went on, "from the moment you came to fight for me against Vernon and the ilken." The light in her eyes stole his breath. "And when I heard you were somewhere on that battlefield, the only thing I wanted was to be able to tell you that. It was the only thing that mattered."

Once, he might have scoffed. Declared that far bigger things mattered, in this war especially. And yet the hand grasping his ... He'd never known anything more precious.

Lorcan ran his thumb over the back of her hand. "I am sorry, Elide. For all of it."

"I know," she said softly, and no regret or hurt dimmed her face. Only clear, unwavering calm shone there. The face of the mighty lady she was growing into, and had already become, and who would rule Perranth with wisdom in one hand and compassion in the other.

They stared at each other for minutes. For a blessed eternity.

Then Elide untangled their hands and rose. "I should return to help Yrene."

Lorcan caught her hand again. "Stay."

She arched a dark brow. "I'm only going to the Great Hall."

Lorcan caressed his thumb over the back of her hand once more. "Stay," he breathed.

For a heartbeat, he thought she'd say no, and was prepared to be fine with it, to accept these last few minutes as more of a gift than he'd deserved.

"Say it," she whispered, fingers stilling in his hair. Lorcan opened his eyes, finding her gaze. "I love you."

"Yrene said you might always have this," she said, her hand mercifully falling away.

"Then it will be the scar I treasure most."

Fenrys would laugh until he cried to hear him speak this way, but Lorcan didn't care. To hell with the rest of them.

Another one of those small smiles curved her lips, and Lorcan's hands tightened in the sheets with the effort it took not to taste that smile, to worship it with his own mouth.

But this new, fragile thing humming between them ... He would not risk it for all the world.

Elide, thank the gods, had no such worries.

None at all, it seemed, as she lifted a hand to his cheek and ran her thumb along it. Every breath was an effort of control.

Lorcan held absolutely still as she brought her mouth to his. Brushed her lips across his own.

She pulled back. "Rest, Lorcan. I'll be here again when you wake."

Anything she asked, he'd give her.

Anything at all.

Too shaken by that soft, beautiful kiss to bother with words, he lay back down.

But until then, he wanted her here. Sleeping at his side, where he might watch over her. As she had watched over him.

Elide seemed to read that on his face, and her cheeks reddened further. "Later, then," she breathed, limping to the door.

Lorcan sent a flicker of his power to wrap around her ankle. The limp vanished.

A hand on the knob, she gave him a small, grateful nod. "I missed that."

He heard the unspoken words as she disappeared into the busy hall.

I missed you.

Lorcan allowed himself a rare smile.

[princesskenny1998]

MHA | Bakugou Katsuki x proHero!reader ~ Ship

As a newly debuted pro hero with a unique and rather unconventional quirk you’d quickly gained a following, along with some reputation in the field. Though your career was young, people noticed you, both for your fierce and chaotic fighting style and your public persona that fans couldn’t help but love.

However, none of that could prepare you for the strange twist in popularity that arrived one morning when you checked your phone and found countless tags linking you to none other than Dynamight himself. Social media was flooded with fan edits, speculations, and even a hashtag dedicated to the two of you as a “power couple.” And sure, Dynamight was undeniably attractive and undeniably talented, but you’d never even met him.

As you scrolled through one edit—one where someone had cut together footage of you and Dynamight side by side, looking fierce and intimidating—you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. The idea of you and Dynamight as a duo was amusing at best, although you had to admit it didn’t look half-bad.

By noon, your agent called.

“Hey, you’ve seen the social media storm, right?” they asked, barely containing their excitement.

“Yeah, I did,” you replied, still a bit amused. “Is this really something to be concerned about?”

“Well, here’s the thing: the higher-ups in the agency think this might actually be good for both your PR and Dynamight’s,” they said. “It’s an opportunity to build more buzz around you as a new hero. The public loves the idea of a ‘Power Couple,’ you know?”

You rolled your eyes, but the idea of meeting Dynamight did intrigue you, just a little. He was known for his relentless drive and hard-hitting quirk. People idolized him for his intensity and strength. However, his temper was also notorious, and you were almost certain that meeting him would be anything but a smooth experience.

“Alright, so what’s the plan?” you asked, giving in.

“We’re arranging for you two to meet up. You’ll both be aware of it, and the plan is to pair you up on a mission soon after. Nothing crazy, just something to get people talking.”

And just like that, you were locked in.

The day of your arranged meeting arrived, and you made your way to the agency’s assigned training facility, knowing Dynamight would already be there. A part of you felt nervous—Bakugou Katsuki, aka Dynamight, was known for his intensity, and his fanbase was as devoted as they came. You weren’t sure how this would go.

As you approached the entrance, you took a deep breath and opened the door to see him standing there, arms crossed, eyes locked on you the moment you entered.

“Hey,” you greeted, flashing a small smile. “[Hero Name]. But you probably know that already.”

Bakugou looked at you, sizing you up as if trying to assess just what kind of person his PR had paired him with. “Yeah, I know. Dynamight,” he said bluntly.

The initial interaction was stiff, almost forced. After all, you were both here because someone else thought it would be a good idea, not because you had a real connection.

However, as the training session progressed, things began to change. Your quirks were oddly complementary. Bakugou’s explosive power matched well with your abilities. You found yourself enjoying the way you could support each other’s moves, almost instinctively.

Bakugou, too, seemed to loosen up slightly, impressed by your control over your unique quirk.

“Not bad,” he admitted, a rare compliment slipping out as you finished a drill.

“Coming from you, that’s high praise,” you replied with a smirk, enjoying the way his eyebrow twitched.

He scoffed, but you could tell he was secretly amused. Maybe this team-up wouldn’t be so bad.

Over the next few weeks, you and Dynamight were scheduled for more and more joint missions, and as you spent more time together, the initial awkwardness started to melt away. Bakugou’s abrasive demeanor softened, though only slightly, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company. Sure, he could be intense, but there was something refreshing about his straightforwardness.

As you both walked down a dimly lit street after a particularly grueling mission, you couldn’t resist teasing him.

“So, how does it feel to be in the tabloids with a new ‘partner’?” you asked, waggling your eyebrows.

He groaned. “Don’t even get me started. All these idiots are so focused on ‘shipping’ they forget I’m here to do my job.”

“But hey, it’s not all bad,” you replied, smirking. “We make a pretty good team.”

He stopped, glancing over at you. “Yeah… you’re alright,” he said, with a small shrug. Coming from Bakugou, you knew that was a lot.

As time went on, your friendship deepened, slowly shifting into something more. You didn’t talk about it, but there were lingering glances, casual touches, and inside jokes. You were drawn to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated, and you could sense he felt the same.

One evening, after another mission, you found yourselves alone in his apartment. You were both exhausted, but there was a comfortable tension hanging in the air. You leaned against the counter, watching him as he grabbed water for you both.

“Y’know,” you said, your voice softer than usual, “I didn’t think I’d actually end up liking you."

He rolled his eyes, handing you a water bottle. “You’re not exactly a walk in the park either, you know that?”

You laughed, shaking your head, but before you knew it, he was standing closer, his gaze intense.

“Katsuki…” you whispered, the realization that you’d just used his first name hitting you both.

And then, he kissed you.

The kiss was intense, filled with unspoken feelings that had built up over weeks. It was a release of all the tension, the anticipation, and the undeniable connection that had grown between you.

When you finally pulled back, you were both a bit breathless, staring at each other in shock and awe.

“Guess the fans were right,” you murmured, smiling.

Bakugou scoffed, though there was a softness in his eyes. “Idiots got lucky,” he muttered, his fingers gently grazing your cheek.

Despite your best efforts to keep things quiet, the media eventually caught on to your relationship. You’d been careful, but somehow, a photographer managed to capture a shot of the two of you sharing a kiss after a mission. The photo spread like wildfire, turning into a front-page scandal within hours.

At first, the agency was nervous. Relationships between pro heroes were a delicate subject, and the media frenzy wasn’t helping.

But Bakugou was unbothered, almost amused by the whole thing. “Let them talk,” he said dismissively, his arm draped around your shoulders as you both watched the news from his apartment.

You laughed, leaning into him. “Guess there’s no point in hiding it anymore, huh?”

“Damn right,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your temple.

The public’s reaction was mixed. Some fans were thrilled that their “ship” had sailed, while others expressed shock and disbelief. But for you and Bakugou, the opinions of strangers didn’t matter. You were happy, and that was enough.

As the initial frenzy died down, your relationship became more accepted, and you and Bakugou continued to fight side by side, a true power couple in the pro hero world. You balanced each other perfectly, your quirks complementing each other in ways you’d never imagined.

One evening, as you both sat on the roof of his building, watching the city lights, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the unexpected turn your life had taken.

“Did you ever think it’d turn out like this?” you asked, glancing over at him.

He shook his head, a rare, genuine smile crossing his face. “Nah. But I wouldn’t change it.”

You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder, feeling at peace.

[epic-kotlc-crossover]

Keep Your Friends Close

This is the third chapter of the Ocean Saga!!!

tags (as to be added or removed): @myfairkatiecat @sombrathedragon @bookwormgirl123 @thesfromhms @ham-cheese-toastie

@justalunaticfangirl

When Fitz reached the highest point on the floating island, he called out, “Great goddess of the Wind, Aeolus, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but a massive storm is blocking our path to home. Can you help us out?”

A bright peal of laughter rang from the clouds. “Ha, ha ha! You found me. Let’s play a game!”

“A game?” Fitz asked. Usually, god games didn’t go over so well….

“That’s what I’m willing to do for you. If you win, you’ll get what you want.” Fitz couldn’t see her, but he swore she winked after she said that.

Fitz sighed. “Deal.”

A bag made of some type of rough fabric materialized next to where he was standing. “That bag has the winds of the storm trapped inside. All you need to do is not open the bag.”

“That sounds too easy. What’s the catch?” Fitz said suspiciously. 

Aeolus laughed again. "Just remember to keep your friends close and your enemies closer! And don’t trust anyone. If your crewmates want to open that bag, you have to say no.”

“Okay,” Fitz said, hoisting the bag over his shoulder. 

When he returned to his fleet, several of his men asked, “Captain, what is that? What's trapped in that bag?”

“Something dangerous friends, please don’t open it,” he answered.

“It’s treasure!” Aeolus whisper-shouted through the wind.

“What?” Fitz was confused.

“Bye-bye, little hero!” Aeolus said breezily.

“Open the bag!” Keefe demanded.

“Let’s see what you got!” 

“No, do not!” Fitz snapped. “Everyone listen closely. This bag has to stay closed. It has the storm trapped inside. We can’t let the treasure rumor fly!”

“We’ll try,” the crew echoed.

ONE WEEK LATER

Fitz was lying in his quarters, searching for Sophie.

SOPHIE!! He transmitted over and over.

After the sixth try, he got a response. Fitz! I’ve been so worried! Are you alright? How’s the crew? And Keefe? And Dex?

Fitz winced. They’re fine…except Dex. He, um…Well, let me fill you in. He shared his memories of the Cyclops’s cave, and the battle, and his strange interaction with Aeolus.

When the last scene ended, there was a somber silence from both of them. Fitz, I’m so, so sorry.

It’s fine. Fitz's tired brain couldn’t handle dredging up those feelings. I’ve been awake for nine days. We’re so close, Sophie. I promise.

Fitz's tired brain couldn’t handle dredging up those feelings. I’ve been awake for nine days, just trying to make it home without storms or tidal waves. We’re so close, Sophie. I promise. 

Fitz's eyelids were starting to droop. His eyes, his soul, his heart..what wasn’t beginning to be a weight?

Try to stay awake, darling. Sophie pleaded.

I keep trying to embrace you both… why won’t you let me?

He could vaguely register that that didn’t make sense, but he was too… tired… to… care…..

He was ripped back to reality by a cold gust of wind. Wake up! It called. Wake up, Fitz, they’re opening the bag, WAKE UP!!!

He jumped up, sprinting to the main deck. He couldn’t see who had done it, but the bag of wind was wide open. “NO!!!!” he yelled. He fell to his knees. 

All of those sleepless days, all of the protection… for NOTHING. Aeolus’s warning came rushing to the front of his mind. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” 

If only he’d listened. The storm was unraveling, filling the sky with dark clouds flickering with lightning. 

“Where’s the storm taking us?” Keefe yelled through the driving rain. The ship was being tossed around by the towering waves like it weighed nothing. 

“I told you to keep the bag closed, but you didn’t listen!” Aeolus’s voice whispered in Fitz’s ear. 

“Keefe, close the bag!” he shouted. 

“But, sir, it’s too late!” he called back.

“No, no! We can save whatever wind is left to use another day! Come on!” he added when Keefe didn’t move. 

After a moment his first mate darted to follow the instructions. Everyone froze when a deep chuckle erupted from the sea.

A husky voice boomed from the waves as a giant figure formed in the seafoam. “Fitz Vacker, King of Ithaca! Do you know who I am?”

[fallen-gravity]

we're wasting time (pretending we're strong)

"Well...what are we gonna do?" Moana tilts her head at Maui when he meets her gaze. "Two of the most powerful demigods in all the seas..." she pauses, and pouts dramatically in an attempt to lighten the mood. "...and here we are, both struggling with nightmares."

Notes:

So, fun fact! In the novelization, Maui regains consciousness a bit earlier than he does in the movie. When he dives under the water to help/stop Moana, he actually witnesses the whole process of her reaching the surface of Motufetū, gently placing a hand on it, and then brutally dying to a lightning strike to her spine. There's a whole fun descriptive about him crying out to her as he swims desperately to catch her :')

Another fun fact! At some point before Maui gets struck by lightning, Moana tries to protect him by blowing into her conch shell to taunt the storm to come and attack her instead. They're so protective of each other it drives me up the wall ;~;

(Reblogs are encouraged and appreciated, but if you tag as a ship I'm blocking you and eating your kneecaps)

AO3

As brave and fearless as Moana’s people and the stories they tell of her claim her to be, she is still no stranger to nightmares.

She’s very familiar with the heartache and the intense anxiety that leaves her breathless as she shoots awake in the middle of the night, terrified by things that are not and never were there at all. 

They’re not frequent, per say, but the intensity of which they occur are always enough to leave her trembling.

Tonight, she fears, in her last few moments of consciousness, is no different.

This time, she stands alone on a canoe, clinging desperately to the mast as a powerful storm rages around her. Each roll of thunder is louder than the previous, and each ocean wave that the storm sends barreling towards her comes closer and closer to capsizing her and sending her under the waves. She realizes, far too late, that the canoe she stands upon is much too small to handle these kinds of waves, and when she finds a moment of balance to look towards the sail, her heart catches in her throat.

Its sail is emblazoned with the spiral of Te Fiti. 

But that’s impossible, because she never takes this canoe out on such long or dangerous journeys for the sake of nostalgia, of longing to preserve what it means to her for as long as she can. 

She doesn’t like taking this canoe out all on her own, because it sends waves of loneliness through her, a painful reminder of the three years she’s gone without seeing- 

A huge bolt of lightning streaks across the sky, interrupting her train of thought and alerting her to the sound of…bird wings? She looks to the sky, and a strained gasp escapes her.

There’s Maui, making rapid flashes back and forth between his hawk form and his regular demigod form. He’s grasping desperately to the rope attached to his hook, trying his hardest to pull something out of the water, but no matter how hard he tries, whatever it is isn’t budging. Even from the deck of the canoe Moana can tell that he’s distracted, because he keeps casting glances downward at something else in the water. Frowning, she tries to follow his gaze, and an uneasy chill runs down her spine when she realizes he keeps staring at the sail of her canoe. 

He’s still trying to pull Motufetū out of the water for her. 

“Maui!” she shouts upward to him, the fear in her chest causing her voice to shake. “Come back! It’s too dangerous! We can regroup!”

He somehow finds the time to shake his head in protest. “I can’t!” he shouts back, his voice straining with the effort. “I’ve got it!” he tries, clearly trying to assure her. “I have to,” he adds, eyes fixed on the symbol of her canoe’s sail. “I promised.”

She shakes her head, and unsticks herself from the mast as she grabs for the oar. “At least let me-”

Another bolt of lightning strikes, this time at the water in the space between her canoe and where Maui hovers.  Okay, okay, so she’s gonna need to find a much subtler way to help. Maui, also having seen, growls towards the sky the same way he’d taught her years before in Lalotai, and there’s another rapid succession of transformations as he continues on, ignoring Nalo’s warning.

Before Moana has any time to redirect her attention to coming up with a plan to help, the wind picks up noisily, as if it were screaming curses at the both of them, and a startled yelp escapes her as the next bolt of lightning hits the mast of her canoe. She barely has enough time to make sure it hasn’t caught fire from the impact (it hasn’t, thank the gods,) before Maui shouts even louder over the storm.

“I thought I told you to leave her out of it!” he screams upward, as if he’s trying to talk to Nalo directly. Maui shakes his head violently, and doubles down on his efforts. He’s transforming so rapidly that Moana has to squint to see through all of the flashing, and for a brief moment it looks as if he really is going to pull the island out of the water.

But then there’s the undeniable sound of screeching, and this time the lightning slams into Maui directly. Moana tries to scream out, but no sound leaves her mouth. It’s not long before the powerful winds of the storms sends the scent of burning hair and flesh in her direction, and she chokes back a gag as she throws caution to the wind and dives for her oar to direct the canoe to be able to catch him in case he falls.

“Stay back, Moana!” he manages to wheeze through his efforts to recover, and it makes her chest ache just how much the fear in his voice sounds directed towards her safety, rather than his own. 

It breaks her heart, but she knows neither of them can afford any distractions, so she backs away from the oar and clasps at her necklace as she nods a silent promise to him. He nods back, the tiniest hints of gratitude on his face, before he’s right back to his island-raising efforts. 

Nalo, angry at his failed attempt to knock Maui down, strikes him again, harder this time, and Moana feels sick to her stomach at the way Maui falters. It takes everything in her not to do anything to help, her knuckles turning white as she grips at her skirt in an attempt to stop herself from diving straight into the water after Motufetū to end all of this trouble herself. She can do nothing but watch, and that scares her more than anything. 

The lightning stops flashing, and all at once she wants to retract that train of thought.

She locks eyes with Maui, by chance, and it’s actually the devastated, hopeless look in his eyes that scares her more than anything. He tries to hide it behind a lopsided smile, but it helps nothing when it’s accompanied by the fact that he mouths the words I’m sorry as he finally gives up on fighting. He lets go of the rope, his hook sinking to the ocean floor alongside Motufetū, and before he even has the chance to drop into the water, Nalo strikes one last time, harder and faster than all the other times put together.

“Maui!” Moana shrieks, her voice raw and cracking with emotion. She rushes forward to dive into the water after him as he falls, but something grabs her foot and slams her into the deck of her canoe, stopping her. She kicks and thrashes, in case it’s a monster that Nalo sent after her, but her heart breaks in her chest when she turns her head and sees it’s the ocean refusing to let her go.

“No!” she cries, and no matter how hard she attempts to kick her way out of the ocean’s grip, it refuses to let go. “Let me go! I need to help him!”

Nothing. No response at all.

High above her, he falls, limp and unmoving.

“Maui!” she screams again, and squeezes her eyes shut, not sure she’ll ever be prepared for the harsh sound of him hitting the water.

She waits, and she waits, but the sound never comes. 

When Moana opens her eyes again, she’s staring upwards at the ceiling of her fale. The gentle chirp of crickets and the moonlight poking through her window are her clues that it’s still the middle of the night. She sits up, taking a deep breath to try and calm the shake in her shoulders, and her eyes fall to the oar tucked into the corner by the doorway.

She sighs.

It’s not the first time she’s had a nightmare about Maui.

Three years ago, she dreamt of Te Kā. She dreamt of discovering the spiral on her chest too late, of Maui giving all he had to spare her some time, and her losing everything as a result. She dreamt of Lalotai, of Tamatoa seeing right through her tricks. He’d crushed the algae-covered pebble in his pincers, and decided that the best punishment for keeping Te Fiti’s heart away from him was to kill Maui first, just to make her watch. Something about making her suffer before taking her life, just for the dramatics of it all. 

She dreamt of drowning. Of diving into the water to save something, someone, and not being able to reach out and help them no matter how hard or how far she kicked.

Those times, she’d only assumed it was because she was missing him.

Those times, she could find comfort in knowing there was no truth to them.

Moana shivers as she stands to her feet, and grabs her oar on her way out the door. She’s not really planning on going anywhere where she’d need it, but the feeling of the carved wood in her callused hands always brings her comfort. She drags it along the sand as she heads to the beach, and gently places it beside her as she sits down.

The ocean’s always been there for her. It’s always been there to listen, even if she knows it can’t respond. The sound of its gentle waves always brought her solace in ways the company of others could not. The ocean could not judge, or try to sway her emotions one way or another. It’s her first and longest friend, always there, even when others she cares for cannot be there.

As if it were hearing her thoughts, it pokes its head out of the water and gently wraps itself around her ankle, as if it were attempting to hug her.

“Thanks,” she smiles, wiping at her eyes with her wrist. She hadn’t even realized that she was crying.

It’s embarrassing, really. She knows she’s got nothing to worry about! Maui’s all all-powerful demigod. The last thing he needs is someone like her worrying about him all the time. He’s strong and resourceful and he’s probably gone through much worse than one lightning storm and came out stronger than ever. He’s challenged gods before and she knows that he’ll probably challenge dozens more in the future. 

He doesn’t need someone like her. He can take care of himself.

And yet…

She closes her eyes, and flinches when the images from her nightmare come rushing back to her.

…She wants to protect him. She wants to do everything she can to keep him safe.

How ridiculous is she?

The sound of approaching footsteps snaps her from her thoughts. She recognizes the source of them without even turning her head. The ocean, seemingly recognizing them as well, slowly retracts itself back into the sea to give them space.

She smiles. “You know, for a demigod who stole fire from the underworld,” she teases him with an embellishment she only could’ve picked up from him, “you’re pretty awful at sneaking around.”

Maui laughs as he sits down beside her. “So are you, Curly” he teases back easily. “I could see you bounding down to the water from halfway across the island. Don’t you think it’s a little late to take off exploring?” he says, and then flashes her with a fake pout so sad and blubbery that it nearly rivals Simea’s. “…without me?”

Moana bites down on a laugh that would surely wake up half the village, and slugs him on the shoulder.

Ever since everything that went down at Motufetū, he’s become a comfortable regular in her everyday life. She’d been prepared to say goodbye again once she and her crew were ready to sail back home to Motunui, but he’d told her there on the shore that he was finally gonna make good on an old promise and come back with her. Even then, she was certain he was just being sentimental, and that he was gonna take off and take care of other more important demigodly things after a number of days, but as more and more weeks went by, it became clearer and clearer to her that he had no plans of leaving any time soon.

Soon after, the village of Motunui seemed to follow. It took time, but he eventually started to be seen as less of the all-powerful Demigod of the Wind and Sea and more as just one of their own. He was given his own honorary fale, invited to feasts and ceremonies across the island, and eventually just invited to participate in the island’s day-to-day regular.

Moana smiles to herself at the thought, and inches closer to him in the sand. “It’s not like that, I promise” she says, giving him a pat on the arm full of mock sympathy. She then brings her knees to her chest and wraps her arms around herself in a self-hug. “I, uh…” she starts, “I had a nightmare.”

“...Oh,” Maui responds quietly, all of the playful bite in his voice fading out to sea. Something gentle takes its place as he tries to find his words. “Do you, uh…want to talk about it? What was it about?” 

Moana doesn’t respond right away. She tries to direct her gaze elsewhere to try and gather her thoughts and find a way to explain it gently, but it’s just her luck, because she somehow ends up locking eyes with Mini Maui. The little tattoo tilts his head at her, pacing back and forth and tapping at his chin like he’s trying to put the pieces together himself, but then he stops in his tracks and frowns sympathetically as he seems to realize something. He gestures upwards at Maui with his thumb, a little question mark popping up over his head. 

Him?

She nods, and he grimaces. 

Moana tries to look somewhere else, like down at the water or up at the stars or at the leaves of the coconut trees swaying in the gentle breeze a little ways down the shore, but she’s got this burning feeling that someone is staring at her, so she sucks in some air through her teeth and looks back to Maui, because she owes him that much.

He’s staring at her, eyes wide in shock. “Me?”

“I know, I know,” she tries to wave off that look on his face with a wave of her hands, but it still doesn’t do much to help how dumb and awkward she feels. “It’s stupid.” She rests her chin on her knees, pulling her eyes away from his burning gaze. “We were at Motufetū again. Well, not everyone. Just us. You and I.” She runs her hand along the wood of her oar to give herself something else to focus on. “And we were on my old canoe, right? The one we took to Te Fiti? So it wasn’t built for Nalo’s storms, because it’s so small, and we…well, actually just me, I was the only one on the boat, kept almost capsizing. I look up, because, you know, I don’t remember how I got there, and I see you, and…you’re still trying to pull the island out of the water.” 

She shakes her head. She can’t have the tears coming back to her eyes, not now. “...and I kept trying to shout out to you and tell you that it was okay if you couldn’t, and that we should try and regroup and come up with some other plan where we’d both be safe, because whatever you were doing wasn’t working. But, uh, you kept shouting back at me that you didn’t want to, something about old promises, and you wouldn’t let me help you no matter how angry Nalo got at you. I kept trying to help anyway, but then the ocean started stopping me too, so all I could do was sit back and watch. You just…wouldn’t stand down, no matter how much I begged you to come back, and…” she trails off, her voice dropping to little more than a whisper. “I had to watch Nalo tear into you all over again.”

She squeezes herself again, hoping the self-hug will be enough to stop the trembling from returning to her body. “It’s stupid,” she keeps on, before he can intervene, “because I know it’s just a dream, and it’s stupid, because we both know you don’t need anyone looking out for you. You’re a demigod, you don’t need saving, you don’t need protecting, and yet every time that image repeats itself in my head, I get all of these thoughts that are like, I should’ve done better, I should’ve done something to prevent this from happening. It’s like…why do I want to protect someone that doesn’t need it? What could I possibly do to keep you safe and prevent that sort of thing from happening that you couldn’t already do yourself?”

She scrubs her hands down her face. She’s just rambling at this point, she’s sure of it. “I’m sorry,” she sighs. “I’m probably not making any sense. It’s such a specific problem to have, wanting to protect someone you know doesn’t need it in the first place.” She tries to laugh at herself, but it comes out sounding a lot sadder than she intends for it to.

Silence. 

She figured that’d be the response.

She uncurls from around herself, and leans over to rest her head on Maui’s shoulder. Even though he’s really awful at the whole comforting words thing, she is happy he’s so willing to listen to her babble on, at least. She means to convey that sentiment, she really does, but a little flash of movement out of the corner of her eyes distracts her before she can.

She looks, and sees Mini Maui’s running over to Maui’s arm, right near where her hair is squished against it, and starts patting the space, as if he were trying to give her a comforting pat on the head despite being little more than a little tattoo.

That gets a genuine laugh out of her. “Thanks, little buddy. At least I know you’re trying,” she teases in an attempt to get a rise out of Maui, but then the little tattoo is shaking his head. He waves his arms in the air to keep her attention, and dashes off to another part of Maui’s chest. She follows him with her gaze, and blinks in surprise when he runs to Maui’s tattoo of her. He sits down on the deck of the little inked canoe, and even more surprising, Mini Moana lowers her arm from its usual frozen position and sits down beside him. She winds an arm around him as she looks up at her large counterpoint, her little inky eyes looking oh so sad.

They’re both trying to tell her something that Maui isn’t. 

“Maui, what are you trying to…” she tries, but her voice fades off when she turns to meet his gaze.

He’s staring at her with this distant, far-off look, almost as if he’s not really looking at her at all, something akin to grief in his eyes. If she looks closer, she realizes he’s not even looking at her face, but instead at…her arm?

…Her tattoo of Motufetū.

Every time she tries to remember what happened that day, she gets a splitting headache and the ghost of burning pain running down her spine. She remembers what happened to Maui, of course, but there’s nothing but static when she tries to remember what happened to her. She remembers diving into the water, the sound of thunder and lightning crashing around her, the sensation of her fingers brushing against Motufetū, and then…nothing.

The next thing she remembers after that is waking up…on the ocean floor? No, somewhere else, because the ocean wasn’t suffocating her, it was creating a protective dome around her. She remembers realizing, with a start, that Maui was holding her in his arms, and that there was a whole world of emotions on his face as he helped her to her feet.

Grief. Disbelief. Uncertainty. Euphoria.

She remembers the crushing hug that nearly knocked the wind out of her that he’d given her sometime later, when there was time for it. She remembers the voyage home, where she found herself repeatedly poking at her tattoo, wondering in the back of her mind if she’d ever earn one symbolizing what she did for Te Fiti. She remembers the first time she traced her fingers along the new patterns on her oar, making a mental note to see if they matched the symbols on Maui’s hook or if these patterns were uniquely her own.

She remembers having the smallest inkling of what had to happen for her to deserve everything that came after, but never finding the time to ask, always too afraid to bring up such a touchy subject.

…Oh.

Does he have nightmares about what happened to her?

She shifts herself in the sand so she can meet his eyes better. “Maui?” she whispers, hesitant to reach out and touch him out of fear that he’ll shatter to pieces.

He snaps himself from his trance. “Sorry,” he replies haphazardly, and it’s so uncharacteristic of him that it makes Moana wince. He shifts in the sand before Moana has a chance to say anything. “Look…” he starts, fumbling over his words before they’re even out of his mouth. “I get it. I know you don’t really need the protection either. I’ve seen what you’re capable of! You’re certainly much stronger and more resourceful than any other human I’ve met.” He shakes his head. “You’re actually probably even more than I give you credit for, given that the gods, you know…” his voice drops, “...saw you as someone worthy of being saved. Means that even they see something in you that’s strong and powerful and nothing to sneeze at. The gods have faith in you. They know you’re perfectly well and capable of seizing anything you set your heart on. I know firsthand that you’re capable of seizing anything you set your heart on!”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes starting to go cloudy again. “But…after everything, you know, watching you go limp on the surface of Motufetū…” he pauses, taking a deep breath to try and gather his composure. “My mind can’t help but wander, and…” his gaze turns to her. “It’s hard not to see you as someone I want to keep safe.” He laughs self-deprecatingly at himself, as if it were a ridiculous thought to be having at all. “You’re just as much of a demigod now as I am, Curly. You deserve more credit than that.”

Moana’s chest aches. It means the world to her that he understands, and that he’s trying to bring her comfort, but it breaks her heart to know they’re both struggling with this. She hadn’t even considered for one moment that he had watched her die, but she realizes with a grimace that it’s exactly the sort of thing Nalo would’ve forced him to do for trying to break his millennia-long curse.

She’s not sure what to say. She’s not sure what she could say.

…But maybe, she realizes, she doesn’t even really need to say anything at all. If she feels immense comfort just knowing that he’s there for her, even without the proper words for it…

Moana inches to Maui’s side and silently winds an arm around his back. She can’t reach all the way across, not even close, but even she doesn’t miss the way that her fingers brush gently against the tattoo of his mother, the age-old reminder of how long he’s been forced to feel abandoned and alone. Moana can do nothing now but hope that he understands her silent promise.

He does, instantly, and the exhale that escapes him is deep and shuddered. Wordlessly, he returns the gesture, winding an arm around her shoulders and gently pulling her closer to his side.

For a few moments, neither of them speak. Moana closes her eyes, allowing her to focus on the gentle sounds of the ocean and the chirp of crickets. She focuses on the feeling of the cool, soft sand beneath her feet. She focuses on the warmth of her home island’s air and Maui’s arm around her. She focuses on these little reminders that she’s still alive, and she exhales.

A few more moments pass before she opens her eyes. “Well…what are we gonna do?” She tilts her head at Maui when he meets her gaze again. “Two of the most powerful demigods in all the seas,” she pauses, pouting dramatically, “and here we are, struggling with nightmares.”

Maui laughs at that, genuinely. It’s boisterous and familiar and more comforting than Moana’s willing to admit.

“Time heals all, O Chosen One” he replies, waggling his head from side to side as if he were poking fun at the stiff formality of the gods he grew up with. “But…” his gaze softens and his voice drops to little more than a murmur, “It does help wonders knowing you’re not alone.”

The true weight of those words are not lost on Moana. She throws herself at him in a hug, and he laughs again as he catches her without a moment’s falter or hesitation, almost as if it were a practiced motion. She grins unabashedly at that thought as she buries her face into his shoulder.

“You’re right,” she says, voice muffled, and she gives him one more good squeeze before she lets him go and drops back down into the sand. She leans her head against his arm, and turns her gaze out towards the horizon. “It does help wonders.”

[tornoleander]

Wow, you're the beta reader for bbnb? I didn't know that. (So you can confirm that Hat is infact not dead because I haven't seen any activity from them in a while and my brain always jumps to worst case scenarios)

Anyway, definitely didn't forget to respond for like a week, but here are some of my theories/scenarios:

-I still think Cole's the one who'll remember bits and pieces because A. He's a ghost B. Hat used he/him when talking about who will remember and C. It would be incredibly emotionaly impactful

-HOWEVER, I think Pixal could also remember some stuff. None of the emotional stuff but she did technically die when Nadakhan erased her. Besides, it could be fun to see her try to let Jay or Nya know she remembers while still stuck to Zane.

-also Zane's falcon died but he was never mentioned in this fic so 😔

-Jay DEFINITELY has c-ptsd. Like, 100%, I'm sure the nurse/psychologist whose name I forgor would agree with me

-I'm pretty sure Wu just died by some falling island or something like that. Or he could've died by the storm, that would be cool.

-I know he said that swearing is a sign of weak verbal skills but I feel like Jay would start swearing more for comfort. Like, Nadakhan hated it but never truly did anything horrible to him because of it :)

most of the scenarios in my head play out with the ninja being captured again

-for example, Jay using his internal electricity to shock someone when they all have vengestone

-or them getting tazed and Jay sending the current back like he did in the electric chair

-or they're all traped and saying shit like "there's no other option" or something and Jay replying with "suicide's still an option" like that's a normal thing to say which obviously worries the others

And then there's the non captured scenarios

-something something Jay falling into autopilot after being told/asked to clean to ship and ends up also cleaning the hull "Why are you cleaning the bottom? We're in the air and you're not even tied to anything???" ".... trauma response?"

-or just straight up Jay having a panic attack out of seemingly sowhere (Cole said he wished he could eat cake again)

Anyway, those are the things I could think of right now, there's more but it's 3:39am and I'm tired :3

Hope it's not too long lol

Yep! As of ch 15. Me and hat have been chatting for a while and I bug them for feedback on Art accuracy so I help them with some writing corrections too!

I have been working on beta reading earlier chapters as well currently half way through 4. It is certainly an experience but now I yell my feelings into comment instead of just the void

*reaches through horrific horror to correct spelling mistake.

Yup Hat is alive! They were just fixated on something else for a while but they are back.

Ok now for scenarios

-Cole remembering bits……. I will refrain from giving my thoughts.

-Pixal and Zane’s falcon died pretty early so I do think they may remember up till then but It probably wouldn’t help understand much.

-I don’t think Wu died? But it’s not impossible.

-CPTSD?

I will ask hat about this one but seeing as bbnb events qualify as at least 4/6 of these causes of it AND ptsd is a tag I’m going to give it a yeah. Cause non complex ptsd is typically less prolonged.

-the swearing I do think he might do more but not necessarily for comfort

-For your head scenarios I am not sure all the ways hat is planned show how the events of the fic messed him up. But I know they’re a big fan of consequences for events…

From what I’m guessing he is going to be trying his best to hide everything and it’ll be somewhat canon compliant? But to be fair He is pretty consistently the most mentally unstable ninja. Take This with a big grain of salt I’m saving the analysis for my skybound video, but his behavior does generally line up well with SA surivers. the first time that Jays a prisoner post Skybound is when he says “You don’t argue with a man who’s navel is that close”

Which

Drives me insane by the way

Side tangent, I’ve been doing a lot of Skybound digging for my eventual video essay. And my current best theory on why this is a line has to do with SA of men being played for laughs.

Like older audiences are supposed to hear that and find it fucking funny. It’s unfortunately not uncommon in kids programming. My quest to best explain why S6 is so uncomfortable has been… enlightening. Terrified of approaching a controversial topic so I have been learning a-lot about approach and how to not be awful. But my fixation is being channeled led into the eventual Skybound video.

Hope I answered what you wanted to know and It wasn’t purely my Adhd rambling

[spidey-bie]

Currently thinking about vibing in a car (that you borrowed from a friend) on a particularly hot day with Hobie. Feels like Summer by Childish Gambino is playing through the speakers. The air conditioner doesn't work. A wave of hot air blows in through the windows. Neither of you has any idea on where you're going since it's way too hot for thoughts.

"They said that today's temp is higher than it's been in years." You had been scrolling through a news article on your phone. Trying and failing to distract yourself from the sweltering heat.

"Love it's climate change." His eyes never strayed from the road as he spoke. Sweat beading down his forehead.

"Yeah." You sigh. "Unfortunately I already know."

The irony of hearing the voice of Donald Glover singing about how nothing in this world seems to change made you feel sick inside. Or maybe it was the heat getting to you.

You didn't feel like carrying the weight of the world today. There was no point in worrying about things that you couldn't control. Hobie was the one who taught you that. He was able to handle so much as Spiderman, so much so that it worried you. Especially since there seemed to be a shift in his behavior recently. He'd come home with more scratches than usual. Swearing that he didn't see the villain coming as you bandaged his wounds. He was lying and you knew. But for his sake you pretended to believe him. You could see it in his eyes. Something had happened. You wondered if it had anything to do with the Spiderwoman that he'd take in recently. Or maybe something happened at whatever that Spider Society was. He hadn't mentioned going there in a while. Maybe something happened. You signed.

"Something up love?" You turn to look at him. His pretty brown eyes stared back at you. They say the eyes are the window to the soul. Yet, there were times where you looked into Hobie's eyes and you only found a stranger.

"No. It's nothing." You turn back to look out the window.

You didn't want to pry. You'd just have to continue doing whatever you could to help. Sometimes you did wonder, When would he ever have the time to just unwind? When would there ever be a time where he wasn't the anchor that stabilized the ship during a storm? Did he even know that he could rely on you? You brush those thoughts aside. You don't have the energy to think about it at this moment. The sun's rays were really getting to you now. Today neither of you were superheroes out trying to save the world. Today you and your beloved were going out to enjoy a drive in the blazing heat, to absolutely nowhere in particular. For now the both of you were going to be okay.

A/N: These are all connected in a way. Kinda sorta maybe. Anyways today's act of antismut protest (still don't know what to call this) is a short blurb. Seeing how my other story is taking forever for me to write. Label your smut works with a tag and/or a warning at the top. Just a tag does help a little. But that's only if you're tagging your works properly. And by a warning I don't mean those small text warnings that nobody can see.

[willtheweaver]

Story garden tag

Thanks for the tag @agirlandherquill @thatuselesshuman this looks like a fun one

Rules: Use the given starting sentences for each paragraph, start to construct a story, then share it and add your own starters, and keep the story going!

The starting sentences are in bold

Endings are inevitable, but what about beginnings? When does one story conclude, and another starts? Why am I asking you this? I honestly don’t know. Maybe it is because these may be my last moments alive, and I am afraid of what comes next. Read this account carefully, and set it into your heart so that you will never forget.

The burn of the fire could never compare to the bite of the cold that has sunk its teeth into unwilling flesh and refused to let go. I know it sounds overly dramatic, but have you ever been in a situation where you question everything you held dear? When all reason abandons you, your sanity slowly seeps out of every pore, and you feel like you are losing your humanity?

Trouble sought them out through the storms, through nightmares-there was no escape, not even now. The naive, the dreamer, the one who fears no god and laughs at the face of death. They are just asking for karma to destroy everything they hold dear. Had I known what lay insides that cursed sea, I would have stayed in that tavern and swore to never sail again.

Why do the dead never seem to stay dead? What drives them to keep haunting those they knew in life? Is it the guilt of those they haunt? Or does sheer will and malice drive them to follow and pursue people until they can no longer take it? I’ve carried many ghosts around me over the years. Some continually keep me company, others have faded away, or have made peace with me. Yet there was one I never expected to see again: you.

If you could leave me again, would you? I know this is a sensitive subject. I do not blame you for being mad at me (but did you really have to put your sword between my ribs?) When I found out that I was going to spend half a year on a tiny ship with you, I expected the worst. Yet we stayed away and never spoke to each other for the first month. Yet I could see the daggers in your eyes. In your head, you weighed all my sins. So it came as a complete surprise when you first spoke to me.

Tagging @mk-writes-stuff @somethingclevermahogony @poethill @kaylinalexanderbooks @jay-avian

@the-ellia-west @illarian-rambling @ahordeofwasps @winterandwords @theink-stainedfolk

@phoenixradiant @the-golden-comet and open tag

Your tags are:

I didn’t think I could ever be forgiven.

Looking back, would you have jumped ship when things first began going wrong?

There are some things that should have remained buried.

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

Chapters: 7/16

Words: 1,364 (in this chapter)

Fandom: Moby Dick - Herman Melville

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Captain Ahab/Starbuck (Moby Dick), Starbuck/Mary Starbuck (Moby Dick), Captain Ahab & Starbuck (Moby Dick), Captain Ahab & Fedallah (Moby Dick), Starbuck & Fedallah (Moby Dick)

Characters: Captain Ahab (Moby Dick), Starbuck (Moby Dick), Mary Starbuck (Moby Dick), Fedallah (Moby Dick), Stubb (Moby Dick), Other Character Tags to Be Added

Additional Tags: Eventual Romance, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Genderqueer Character, Character Study, Trans Character, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Genderswap, Butch Captain Ahab, Butch Starbuck, Butch Characters, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, lots of wound tending, author is disabled and trans

Summary: What would change about Moby-Dick if the major driving forces of the narrative were women?

How much does this single factor radically alter their choices, their relationships, and their eventual end? What would it take for the women of Starbuck and Ahab to stand in the same places as their male counterparts in the novel? Do they go undercover as men to attain power? How do they feel about that? Why is this the power they seek? Is that power enough to save them?

Or, Moby Dick, reimagined through the lens of Captain Ahab and First Mate Starbuck as butch women.

—

Some time after Ahab's speech, after The Pequod has lowered for her first whale. Amidst the lowering, Ahab revealed herself to have smuggled another boat crew aboard the Pequod . Ultimately, the whale was lost, and Starbuck's boat was separated from the ship during a gale. They were only reunited after the storm ended, where by sheer luck they were close enough to be seen by the ship and rescued. Now, shaken from the reveal of the Captain's secrecy and her own turmoil, Starbuck reports to her Captain.

[shivunin]

✨9 Ship Songs✨

Rules: List nine songs for one of your ships

Tagged by @brother-genitivi---Thank you so much! I am always delighted by any opportunity to talk music c:

I didn't want to pick one ship, so here are three songs for each of my canon DA ships instead (I have great playlists for all of them that I want to show off haha), so nine total split across the three.

So:

Arianwen/Zevran

The Killing Kind by Marianas Trench (YT link)

The ghost in me was true but you were haunted too just didn't see it all along. Nevermore to leave here, nevermore to leave here You should never be here I know, I know, I know, I know, I know I know my love can be the killing kind.

Howl by Florence + The Machine (YT Link)

If you could only see The beast you've made of me I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free Screaming in the dark I howl when we're apart Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your bleeding heart

Got Weird by dodie (YT Link)

I got weird when we made out What a goddamn kiss to think about Poured a drink all over my wiring Short a fuse, all cylinders firing It got weird when we made out Clearly I've got shit to figure out Baby, baby, please don't hate me Call me up again, I won't get weird

Maria/Fenris

Francesca by Hozier (YT Link)

Now that it's done there's not one thing that I would change My life was a storm since I was born How could I fear any hurricane? If someone asked me at the end I'd tell them "put me back in it." ... I would still be surprised I could find you, Darling, in any life

reckless driving by Lizzy McAlpine (YT Link) (with Maria singing the man's part)

Now we're at 180 and I can finally see but then it's over in a second, crashed the car into the tree Yeah, I can see it all happen You'd rather die than take your eyes off me

Lose Myself by Lera Lynn (YT Link)

Don't want to talk Don't want to listen You'll just convince me That you're what I'm missing If I stay longer, I know what I'll do I'll lose myself in you

Emmaera/Cullen

Dark Doo Wop by MS MR (YT Link)

The world is gonna burn, burn, burn, burn As long as we're going down Baby you should stick around It's all gone to shit; it's out of our hands Baby if you could, I know: you would hatch a plan That's my, that's my man

You and Me on the Rock by Brandi Carlile (YT Link)

I'll build my house up on this rock, baby, every day with you There's nothin in that town I need after everything we've been through. Me out in my garden And you out on your walk Is all the distance this poor girl can take without listening to you talk I don't need their money, baby Just you and me on the rock

Photograph by Cody Fry (YT Link)

If I wished myself a superpower I would make this moment last for hours If I had my will, time would just stand still Wait for me until I find some magic film To take a photograph and live inside I need some way to prove that this was real A memory is not enough I'm scared that I'll forget the way it feels To be young and in love Let me stay right here---just a moment longer The picture is so clear Please let this last forever

Tagging (no pressure): @greypetrel @demandthedoodles @star--nymph @vakarians-babe @scribbledquillz @zenstrike @gaysebastianvael @transprincecaspian @ndostairlyrium @gvnseylike @idolsgf @layalu @bitchesofostwick @jtownnn and YOU

Tell me what music you like for your fellas!!

[acourtofquestions]

Empire of Storms Part 1 thoughts, theories & a VERY VERY long post of rambling:

(+ this title as a spoiler warning; heads up to my fellow fans & first time readers (esp. those semi-tagged in this post), I address a lot of Part 1 & possibly up to Chapter 52 of EoS;-) I am ALSO on my first read just finishing said 52 so no spoilers for me past that as I go through Fireheart as well plz, & thx!

I will also be posting a far shorter better edited version of this post next :-)

Oh good gods this book is going to destroy me in the best way possible😅😅🤦‍♀️😭😁😬😆🤣🙃❤️‍🔥🖤🫶

Long writing/reading (I HAVE LOTS OF THOUGHTS & FEELINGS & NEED TO SCREAM IN WIVERN FANGIRL NONSENSE! So, this post will probably jump around quite a bit between chapters, thoughts, theories, reactions, & randomness; read/skim at your own rambling risk😅 also in advance for missed autocorrects I TRIED😂) “round up” for Part 1 of EoS. & yes I have been reading a LOT (whilst VERY busy😂😭), so this blog’s posts are in desperate need of a catch up & will probably only grow more hectic as alas, my library & brain demand to know what happens next NOW😂. You have been warned this post & blog is about to be more incoherent than usual! — And as I said this post is LONG (If your thinking I’m kidding; legit I think this is 20 something pages long; consider it here for historical purposes… & I had a VERY long drive with no books😂)

— NOW —

The organization of parts is interesting, we go from Nightfall, to The Fire-Bringer, to Fireheart. It feels like a full circle from night to day; from learning to being, and showing Aelin’s claim (not from Elena, not from her powers, but from her). The heart of Terrasen, the fire for the world (esp. against the Valg). … It’s also scaring the heck out of me with her self-sacrificial tendencies & the VERY intense vibe (from the first few chapters this story advances into a “final chapter vibe” yet it’s only the first few; it’s reminding me of Deathly Hallows almost? — which is esp. confusing CAUSE I STILL HAVE 3 BOOKS LEFT… and we’re already this intense😬😅soooo MAAS PLEASE DON’T YOUR DARE HURT A HAIR ON ANY OF THEM!!) P.S. for this note; it’s also making my shipping fuel go from 180 to infinity cause she’s his Fireheart🥹 (If only “worried over liking the ship” HoF first read me could see me now😂 @ goddess-aelin 🫶YOU WERE SO RIGHT👏). And generally it’s just been cool to see how the entire story & series has shifted so much (yet kept its heart ;-) !

So, Generally speaking: I’ve loved the first half of Nightfall & The Fire-Bringer (As I’ve loved the series). From the pace & many perspectives, to the plot twists & Easter egg style hints, and the writing with straight-up foreshadowing & full-circle series arcs (many of which have had big moments interwoven & reaching peak within this book). There has been some great character development (many beautiful lines/moments) a lot of raw emotion (crying, laughing, and all of the above), & entertaining interactions as my favorite piece of this book has been all these stories finally crossing paths (& within that developing relationships, friendships, families, courts, enemies, allies, etc.) for the “New World” that’s coming.

Nightfall:

“Elena sent up a final prayer on a pillar of smoke rising from the valley floor that the unborn, faraway scions of this night, heirs to a burden that would doom or save Erilea, would forgive her for what she was about to do.”

Elena I don’t know if I can forgive you for what you’re about to do😅😅 the plan here is long coming, as Lysandras “theory” further confirms:

"The more it seems like this was all planned, laid out long ago. Erawan had decades before Aelin was born to strike decades during which no one with her powers, or Dorian's powers, existed to challenge him. Yet, as fate or fortune would have it, he moves now. At a time when a Fire-Bringer walks the earth." It was all horrifying, impossible, but—so much of their lives defied logic or normalcy. The shifter next to him proved that. "Morath is unleashing its horrors," Lysandra said. "Maeve stirs across the sea. Two goddesses walk hand in hand with Aelin. More than that, Mala and Deanna have watched over her the entirety of her life. But perhaps it wasn't watching. Perhaps it was ... shaping. So they might one day unleash her, too. And I wonder if the gods have weighed the costs of that storm. And deemed the casualties worth it."

& previous lines on “all the players in the unfinished game” (I’m getting S&B Ruin & Rising vibes (for those of you Grishaverse fans; which btw one of these days I need a whole post about parallels & these two series, cause just the stag and lord of the north alone. I AM INTRIGUED & do love both fandoms ;-) + I think the crows would fit so well & it would be wonderfully & utterly chaotic🤣).

So, my general concern is this theory & warning everyone keeps giving Aelin about “the price”; from Rolfe’s tattoo map & warning question: “"That was the price of my power. What shall yours be, Aelin Galathynius?" She didn't reply to him before storming out. Though Deanna's voice had echoed in her mind. The Queen Who Was Promised.” To clever Elide’s question: “Was that the price for the humans they'd once been-magic that was somehow immune to what flowed naturally in this world? Or had the choice been taken from them, as surely as their souls had been stolen, too?” to crucial warnings like Brannon: “We burn not just within our magic, but also in our very souls. For better or worse.” & the danger continuing to grow like that of the FULL Deanna scene:

“And she said to him, in a voice that was deep and hollow, young and old, "Every key has a lock. Tell the Queen Who Was Promised to retrieve it soon, for all the allies in the world shall make no difference if she does not wield the Lock, if she does not put those keys back with it. Tell her flame and iron, together bound.”

She is the one, she has to get the lock, and she will have to pay the price for both (her ancestors & the darkness created in centuries of Erawan); one that will be heavy (one Elena failed to do; and I somewhat worry is because while she did sacrifice herself, her friends, her people, her kingdom, even letting Brannon fall to ruin (Brannon; the only one who ever successfully sealed it, because he sacrificed her mother, his love, “My mother died to forge that Lock!”) she did not let Gavriel “that which she most loved” fall; she tried to do it alone & was left with no option but to leave it to someone else; another era, another heir); now Aelin carries every thread, plot, battle aligning; the power she wields & sheer force of it, the weight of her crown & every choice it comes with, the price it will demand (the one she has spent a lifetime running from; “my crown is just another set of shackles”; the one Mala may have been shaping her to be able to make even through experiencing tragedy & turbulence in decisions over & over again). The warning in every choice; including the person she loves most (Rowan’s fear of “The people you love are just weapons used against you.”) “This thing between them, the force of it, could devour the world.” Her terror in that; struggling to allow them to go for the front lines while she survives, no longer alone & no longer able to take it all on, but struggling to let them in on the “master plan”. Struggling because even as she does, it weighs on them too: “Aelin was trembling, a hand on her friend-face so white and drawn that any harsh words he'd reserved for her were unnecessary. His queen knew the cost. It had taken her so damn long to trust any of them to do anything. If Aedion roared at her now, even if he still yearned to ... Aelin might never delegate again. Because if Lysandra hadn't been in the water when things had gone so, so badly…” And they do see it; the on-growing burden on Aelin’s shoulders & how she’s carrying the weight of it; both as a queen (despite her current lack of crown) another long-coming plot; as spoken by Chaol: “There she was, that queen looking out at him, a hint of the ruler she was becoming. And it knocked the breath out of him, because it made him feel so strangely young-when she now seemed so old.” And turning her desperate & weary; heavier slowly: “Since Rowan had gone, since word of Rifthold's fall had arrived, Aelin had been half present. Distant.” line after line “She'd grown quieter the farther north they'd traveled. Perhaps weeks on the road had sapped her.” They fear for her “And he wondered if Aelin was somehow watching the archipelago, and the seas, and the skies, as if she might never see them again.” for the price of such powers “We have yet to see the full extent of Erowan’s darkness. And I think we have yet to see the full extent of Aelin’s fire.” & They try to help “After tonight, depending on what the lords reported he'd try to find her a quiet place to rest for a day or two before they made the last leg of the trek to Orynth.” desperate to stop it “"She's not some unwitting pawn." He'd defy the gods, find a way to slaughter them, if they threatened Aelin, if they deemed these lands a worthy sacrifice to defeat the Dark King.” to protect her “Rowan at her right, Aedion at her left, Lysandra at her back; nothing and no one would get to their queen.” all the while they know they cannot as Rowan’s line painfully says: “This was war. These lands would endure far worse in the coming days and months. His queen, no matter how he tried to shield her, would endure far worse.” (Also the key word endure, frequently used for the “lost children of Terrasen” as I call their grouping). To even Aelin’s own words “She was a liar, and a murderer, and a thief, and Aelin had a feeling she'd be called much worse by the end of this war.”

This is where I fear Nightfall will come to rise in Fire-Heart:

I say all of this to say I get concerned when Maas feels the need to start a book with such warning; in both the price, and person paying it… Aelin is too much like Elena… Celaena has lost too much to lose anyone else (“And she would not add another name of her beloved dead to her flesh.” — “"We'll get her back, Aelin." "I can't bury another friend." "You won't."”)… and carrying it so heavily I worry she may overpay her share on their behalf’s. And between that & the many conflicting & star aligning forces of Rowaelin I worry the conflicts may grow; originally it was him not feeling “enough” for her because he’s a Prince not a King, he has no money no land no army (thankfully we are done with that piece because he can give her everything🥹 of his heart and that’s all she needs). We have the inevitable Maeve’s vendetta. We have my growing fear with the Carranam bond getting drained; like it almost did with Deanna. And the quotes all warning that their world may lead to another being destroyed, one or the other; “This thing between them, the force of it, could devour the world. And if they picked it, picked them, it might very well cause the end of it.”

… and though this isn’t due to Nightfall I am just concerned (I try to avoid spoilers (and continue to do so); but I already know it’s got a cliffhanger) and I have read enough Maas books (and just fandoms in general) to fear the 1-2 punch of “THEY’RE ALL GONNA DIE😱 — PSYCH😜 THEY ARE ALL FINE😅 — JUST KIDDING EVERYONE YOU LOVE IS DEAD!☠️” + the amount of possible brainwashing between Valg, Wyrdstones, and now gods… I’m just nervous (& still not 100% sure someone isn’t already secretly possessed).

MY DO NOT KILL LIST IS GETTING TOO LONG: From ASTERIN (scared me half to death SARAH) & Manon + 13 (obvi💁‍♀️), Abraxos & Fleetfoot & Evangeline (had to break my “no Google” rule to assure the latter twos safety *phew*), Aelin & Rowan (DON’T YOU EVEN DARE), Lysandra, Aedion, Dorian (HE’S BEEN THROUGH ENOUGH; STOP HURTING HIM), Elide (just let her be happy & home & make Marion proud dammit), Chaol (he’s not even here & I’m still a little mad BUT STILL) & Yrene (she hasn’t even fully come in yet & I don’t care I love her already) + Nesryn who babe, you know I love you, but I need more history & perspective to trust you fully (you seem cool, but I’m worried the lack of knowledge about you means your gonna lie or die, & it’s just too soon after Sorscha), Emrys (your safe in Mistward; STAY THERE), Sam (beloved, you’re still on this list; even though I know how it ended, & really do LOVE Rowaelin, I just still miss you; & want a Multiverse of happy endings for EVERYONE).

— HOWEVER —

I hope Fire-Heart will bring:

More Manorian; and let’s be honest ALL the ships (+ it could get realll literal with the set-up right now😂 the ships are LITERALLY sailing🤣) of course I CAN NEVER HAVE ENOUGH ROWAELIN (though Fire-Bringer was great 🥵 THEY FINALLY SAID I LOVE YOU🥹👏) & I am SO HERE FOR Lysandra & Aedion! … also what’s up with Elide & Lorcan? (Her last name + his first name TOO SIMILAR😂)

More interactions in general between all the characters from ships, to friendships, to even enemies (who often also become friends😂) honestly might be my fav part about this book so far; seeing it all line up & crossover; (from aforementioned Elide & Lorcan), (to previous & hopefully again soon) Manon & Aelin, the FULL team with THE THIRTEEN (Asterin & our crew would be absolute chaos & I would love every second of it), Sorrel too! AND VESTA! Petrah Blueblood (I find her VERY interesting as a character), Elide & the “lost children of Terrassen” finally meeting; maybe some more Ren & Bane updates (cause I wonder about them & what their up to) to Abraxos & Fleetfoot (PLEASE I NEED THIS… just don’t eat eachother😅😂) & yes I do STILL miss Evangeline & Fleetfoot; though I am happy they are safe; while the fire trick was cool it was SO not sustainable, & I do trust Murtaugh… and these full circles; Ansel’s (presumed) reintroduction & the TAB throw-backs/crossovers (plus NOW Crochans?). —

Exploring things of the sort; what is the other side of the “Crochan’s tale”, what is Elide’s true bloodline, how does the new Mala knowledge effect Aelin & Dorian?

Who are the Cadre (& learning more of their history; both with Aedion & Gavriel (that blood oath better not pass to children), Lorcan (Elide is already helping there thankfully) the other twin because I already stan Fenrys, and really Rowan because who are they really? Despite the “blood oath” reasoning they spent centuries together there has to be more to it). I want to get to know the twins & their whole Yin & Yang balance; also what is Fenrys power? (why does Rowan let him go after Aelin in the water instead, he must be pretty dang powerful & more so than Rowan to be her best option in his eyes)! What other histories does Rowan have (are the “witches” one of them)? What else is Maeve (I will never trust her) hiding?

Why is Erowan this way (who really killed Aelin’s parents)? Are we POSITIVE the Ilken aren’t the creatures Elide saw in the basement (wow that sounds extra ominous😂)?

Will Chaol show up (how is his team & the southern allies coming along)?

What is the limitation to Lysandra’s powers (can they find a way to trick the Terrasen flower into “blooming”)?

Is their further crossover between these series (ACOTAR & CC)?

Explain further how certain things work such as mates (Rowan has two? Celaena/Aelin too maybe? & what that means for others)… And just a lil’ fluff (Rowan & Fleetfoot, the team all together, shenanigans & some side plots for funsies) maybe?…

I theorize Fire-Heart will:

Confirm Rowaelin as mates (they practically have already but I want to hear the words). Plus plenty more of them just being them (their every moment is so detailed & precious). Maybe even some more moments with Prince of Doranelle vibes ;-)

Show that there are multiple Carranams (possibly a dyad between Aelin & Dorian. Rowan & Aelin being the mates balance; making Aelin & Dorian the “friendship / rulers / fates” balance). & Without a limit to their power; the danger of over-draining others (Deanna causing Rowan to feel “thunder steal his magic” is CONCERNING & Dorian’s magic is hungry for it).

Confirm that Aelin can use shadowfire, moonfire, & power without limit. Explore her other gifts such as water & healing. Possibly introduce her as a powerful enough wielder to use all the forms (as briefly referenced as a possibility among others before).

Confirm Lysandra & Aedion as mates or at least a couple. (Also use it to explore Aedion’s history & introduce the Bane or at least their set-up).

Bring back the Mycenians since Lysandra & Aelin’s masterplan worked (THE DRAGON THEORY WAS RIGHT)!

Set sail on Manorian in a way that is explanatory/foreshadowing. (Possibly tap into Dorian’s immortality? & power exploration explanations. And go into Manon’s ability to forge a new alliance of peace between MANY groups; not because I’m suggesting the sexist “get married” nonsense so many are giving Aelin, literally just that she could speak on behalf of many groups & since Darrow has brought diplomatic debates into this war it could be an asset).

Introduce Ansel, and perhaps loop back to the Red Desert (unless the Silent Assassins have disappeared). Showing all of Celaena as we see all of Aelin (letting Rowan know even more of her, healing those wounds as he & her family fully accept her; hopefully doing the same thing for them; going through more history). & Similarly with Rowan; possibly saving the Cadre’s lives through it (or at least stopping Lorcans “execution”).

Tie in the spider silk, between Abraxos’s wings (Manon’s “stealing”), & Aelin’s Red Desert history deals. If not in this book than KoA.

Explain Maeve’s obsession with Aelin & vendetta against the family.

Aelin reclaiming her crown by having the heart of her people (we’ve seen “the future”, there is a woman with hair like moonlight; I think this is Manon. The people chant for her, she is their Queen and that is her court; including the witch).

I think Aelin (like Manon & the other golden eyed 13) are Valg proof. She has the golden eye ring of the Ashryver eyes… in that case maybe Aedion too?? (Hopefully🥺… I mean why else would history write a poem about it?) … While I’m at it let’s make Lysandra’s shifting immune too (protect all my bb’s)!😂

Reveal the Wyrdstone Elide carries as THE Lock (between her last name having the word lock😂 or “loch” I guess, the magic not being immediately recognized as a Wyrdkey by Lorcan, & Kaltain’s promise/importance with an explanation for the “living gate” term). Then when she reaches them so does the thread of fate (once again).

Go to Ellywe & both heal/break my soul (all this travel has made it inevitable; though it is cool to see more of the continents of this fictional world etc.)!🙃

Not something I truly believe but one I wonder on; is there a relation between either Rowan & Manon (history or hair color related😂) or Aelin & Manon (some sort of blood relation; the gold eyes & power levels?).

Not theories but things I think need to happen ASAP: STOP WEARING THE WYRDKEY as a necklace AELIN I DON’T care if it’s a “family heirloom” IT’S A BAD IDEA (have you not seen Harry Potter? — sry for another reference, but seriously DON’T WEAR HORCRUX LOCKETS folks)! Tell Elide the full truth; Celaena = Aelin (at least Lorcan is getting close). Commit to immortality (I’m looking at you Aelin & Aedion; esp. Aelin… ROWAN NEEDS THIS; the only time I will ever encourage a woman to “settle”😂)! Address the very long list of “things for later/back burner” because I can’t keep track😂 & they are all WAY too important😅, dangerous😬, and THE LIST IS LONG SO HURRY UP Y’ALL😁!!!

— NOW ONTO THE “ACTUALLY” READ “BIG PORTION😂 —

The Fire-Bringer:

A lot of reactions have random posts; per usual many of the opinions change with hindsight, but I like being able to look back & enjoy it for the first time so (while I do try to give an update) I’ll probably leave the posts up :-) hoping to get a few lil (by that I mean pages jk sry not sry lol I warned you) notes I’m pondering on in here though…

I love the Little Folk’s little but magical role:😊 when (not if; I’m gonna will it into reality with terminology) this gets an adaptation I can’t wait to see them! — I really love the fan art & its many different takes for what they may be all the way from fairy’s, to wisps, to “baby-Groot”-like characters! … I also wonder if they could help out with that “rulers flower thing” possibly, same as pondered for Lysandra (I think these “little things” will be keys to helping Aelin with “dum-dum Darrow” (as I’ve dubbed him; cause I’m angry! & it may be only a 1st read impression as of right now, but he’s also given me 0 reason to like him).

The Oakwald forest: EVERYONE IS SO CLOSE yet SO FAR! (At least Manon has finally made it to the team… well kinda… she better actually MAKE IT past the ship drop-off… if you can call it that?😅 this is why I need to type fast & go read!) If Tower of Dawn manages to match this pace of “just-missed, kinda-crossover” I see why the tandem read would work! It’s quite fun (& semi-irritating/anxiety-inducing but in a good way😂).

Speaking (writing?😂) of Manon: TALK ABOUT IMMEDIATE CHAOS, each of her chapters have been SO intense. I might have cried with her the most so far; I legitimately almost lost it over Asterin’s almost execution & The Thirteen (I AM VERY GLAD THEY FINALLY LEFT THE MATRON & got out so they can please be safe now; or at least they already are in my mind; though last we saw them it was all chaos, they were running (a win) & the shadows seemed to confirm them getting out (another good sign) while Asterin being dragged off screaming isn’t great I think she was shouting for Manon because she didn’t want to leave her… & I refuse to accept any other answer) only problem is Manon is not with them; & she really needs to be😅😅😭 instead of half-dead in the woods, hunted by a banshee-hound-thing? Abraxos honey, thank you for taking care of mother🥹😂 at least she is with the team on the same-ish side now. So, hopefully Abraxos will go grab the rest of The Thirteen while he drops Manon off? I NEED THE WHOLE GANG; I mean Erawan & Maeve are screwed in that case. Esp. since most of them are Valg proof golden eyed; & also have you seen these gals fight? … Honestly, I think they are one of the great shows of good writing in these books; because these characters could easily be read as villains & psychopaths to be hated, yet they manage to be a compelling, interesting, group of female badassery & sisterhood, that really captures your heart (pun intended). HOWEVER, I say all of this Spoiler-free while not oblivious; I have 2 &1/2 books left (wow that’s numbers too small I’m gonna get sad😅😂) I know people say this ending is a hard, & a book of cliffhangers… So, if this is “just” the beginning it can only get crazier😅 (I just don’t want to know; I want to think this will be like ACOTAR with no deaths as long as I can believe it) & even with the Matron’s probable on-it’s-way “dispatch”, they managed to hide Asterin for years. My main concern is Sorrel & Vesta as they’ve been given enough time to love them, yet not enough time for a full arc, I can’t have any red shirts & I’m a little worried for them (but I just wanna love them as long as I can🥹).

I’m so glad I was right; from day ONE I’ve been wondering about Aedion & Lysandra cause *coughs* I mean their first scene together ever… she’s changing his shirt… and now the whole “wandering off to give Rowaelin time” which while a fair-ish excuse it is also a little ;-) ;-) … and now that he’s said he’s gonna marry her “Because I am going to marry you," he promised her. "One day. I am going to marry you.”… I’m counting it (why is it giving New Girl CeCe & Schmidt?😂)

But in all seriousness ship-ness aside I appreciate their friendship; the understanding of each-other with a healthier trauma bond (for all they cannot say, yet carry so heavily; all the shame & fear Aedion is wrestling with; & the steady acceptance Lysandra gives) I loved them both as is, but together is something precious & nice to see develop (while staying slow, taking time, surety of respectful). While at times it feels fast, it makes complete sense (esp. as we don’t get their perspectives as frequently, & with the knowledge that mates can be pretty immediate; even if it’s not “said”; it tracks).

Though it hurt (& was also kinda healthily valid) to hear Aedion be angry with Aelin, it also says a lot about how much he cares for Lysandra (as Aelin often can “do no wrong in his eyes”) to be angry in the first place “And for the first time, he hated his cousin. He hated Aelin for asking this of Lysandra, both to defend them and to secure the Mycenians to fight for Terrasen. Hated the people who had left such scars on the shifter that Lysandra was so willing to throw her life away. Hated ... hated himself for being stuck in this useless tower.” While also knowing it’s not her fault, it is her choice, but it also had to be (he at least knows that & does cut her slack). “He was shaking now, that rage indeed taking over. But Rowan snarled at him, low and vicious, "Save it for later." Aedion growled right back at him. Rowan gave him a cold, steady look that said if he so much as began to hint at what their queen carried, he'd rip out his tongue. Literally. Aedion shoved down the anger. "We can't carry her, and she's too weak to shift." "Then we wait here until she can," Aelin said. But her eyes drifted to the bay, and to the city beyond, still cheering. victory—but very nearly a loss. The remnants of the Mycenians, saved by one of their long-lost sea dragons. Aelin and Lysandra had woven ancient prophecies into tangible fact. "I'll stay," Aedion said. "You deal with Rolfe." "Fine," he said. Aelin groaned, getting to her feet, but stared down at him before she took Rowan's extended hand. She said softly, "I'm sorry." Aedion knew she meant it. He still didn't bother replying.” & knows (because Lysandra makes him better; as she already reminds him with her knowing compassion): “"That man has endured enough, Aedion. A little kindness wouldn't kill you." "He stabbed Aelin. If you knew him as I have, you wouldn't be so willing to fawn over. "No one expects you to fawn over him. But a kind word, some respect-" He rolled his eyes. "Keep your voice down." She did- but went on, "He was violated, and even if you cannot draw up forgiveness for stabbing Aelin against his own will, then try to have some compassion for that." — Aedion snarled at her. Lysandra snarled right back and held his stare with the face not trained or built for bedrooms, but the true one beneath—wild and unbroken and indomitable. No matter what body she wore, she was the Staghorns given form, the heart of Oakwald Aedion said hoarsely, "I'll try." "Try harder. Try better."”)

& Then moments like him asking her to come with him to meet Gavriel, & she simply does. Or that she trusts him to carry her home, vulnerable & tired. I think they give a lot of what the other needs while growing to be who they are themselves. Plus Lysandra deserves to be a leopard princess, sister-in-law(ish) to Aelin. “Princess Lysandra Ashryver sounds nice, doesn't it?” YES IT DOES!

Speaking of Lysandra (who is seriously one of my all time favorites; I relate, I adore her, and really it just doesn’t get better then all of these characters) I WAS RIGHT ABOUT LYSANDRA BEING A DRAGON!!! GENIUS!! And also LYSANDRA WAS A DRAGON!!!!!! I love her & Aelin’s plotting (which also gets kinda Kaz Brekker vibes sometimes; she is so brilliant, & the fact Lysandra just piles into the shenanigans; I love them). TALK ABOUT POWER! Also what fun genius for mythology… winning the people’s hearts… etc. …if only she could turn into a flower… and making that moment the first perspective we have from her in this book was so fun! Shoutout to @ asexualzucchini for fandoming about this with me (heads up again cause I know your on a first read too; THIS POST HAS SPOILERS for Pt. 1 ;-)

ELIDE & LORCAN; a team-up I was NOT expecting, yet find SO intriguing. From highlighting Elide (which is well deserved) esp. in her truest strength; smarts (her & Annabeth Chase would’ve been besties) and as something even Lorcan sees & values greatly, extra fun as in combo to his physical strength it’s a pretty perfect team (& a helpful combo for storytelling because you see his perspective which is of course very different then spoken threats from Rowaelin perspectives ONLY; & of course once again while I’m curious to learn more on the Cadre; esp. since Lorcan often to me just seems angry to have “lost” his friend). And I do love the boundaries they respect (even as an unknown dare I say “anti-hero”? Lorcan still has some clear moral lines (& I generally appreciate that in the Maasverse that everyone except the worst of the worst can agree where those are) he also keeps his word a VERY intriguing piece of his character), also the representation they give (go team disability represent!) + small girlies hanging out w big brooding boys (there’s my “kitty” style reference for you Aelin lol). Also funny cause eventually they’re gonna end up in the same place😂 P.S. him calling her MARION (gut-wrenching), Crochan history (very curious), etc. IT’S JUST ALL SO INTRIGUING! … Now if we could only have an empowering crossover so she can go talk to Feyre & realize she’s already intelligent, powerful, & capable, & not being able to read has no effect on that!! (while we’re at it & I’m on a crow comparison kick; go hug Wylan please).

Another team up I didn’t expect but surprisingly loved most was Dorian & Rowan’s roadtrip through Rifthold (new movie adaptation idea?😂):

Dorian, Dorian, Dorian where do I begin? — I love him. I think he might be the most morally grounded character (odd as that sounds for someone that was recently possessed). He would be a good king, because most important he’s just a good man. My heart breaks for him, he’s seen a lot without time or space to deal with it (it’s just adding up; “The latter, Dorian realized, usually happened when even the heat and sun couldn't drive away the shadows of the past few months—when he awoke with his sweat feeling like Sorscha's blood, when he couldn't abide even the brush of his tunic against his neck.”); yet he still gives everything he can to his friends, his people, his country (& Rowan gives & takes care of him too (another Aelin paralell/foreshadowing; “"You're not going to believe me," Aelin went on. "What l've just said, you're not going to believe me. I know it--and that's fine. I don't expect you to. When you're ready, I'll be here.”) ; “He wasn't sure whether to thank the Fae Prince for noticing or to hate him for the kindness.” — Because Rowan knows; “"You're going to hate the world, Dorian. You are going to hate yourself. You will hate your magic, and you will hate any moment of peace or happiness. But I had the luxury of a kingdom at peace and no one depending upon me. You do not."”); and somehow Dorian just remains good and kind even when the world is not. He may carry more, but it is never an excuse for him; he sets aside his pride, humbled, un-selfish, caring, and really trying. (remarkable enough that even Rowan notices & takes note; “I have known many kings in my life, Dorian Havilliard. And it was a rare man indeed who asked for help when he needed it, who would put aside pride.”) And I also appreciate that he is cared for in this, seen for who he is; respected in it (FINALLY said quite well in: “Rowan knew most underestimated the sharp intelligence under that disarming smile. Knew that Dorian's value wasn't his godlike magic, but his mind”)

And getting the friends & care he deserves, like Aelin who kept her word “I came back for you. "You both came back,"” (he is her friend, she does care for him) as it’s shown because she went so far as to send Rowan (someone she would NEVER risk; “"I will save him," he murmured. "I wouldn't ask this of you unless it was ... Dorian is vital. Lose him, and we lose any support in Adarlan." And one of the few magic-wielders who could stand against Morath. Rowan's nod was grim. "I serve you, Aelin. Do not apologize for putting me to use." Because only Rowan, riding the winds with his magic, could reach Rifthold in time. Even now, he might be too late. Aelin swallowed hard, fighting the feeling that the world was being ripped from under her feet.” (When she says “losing support” she pauses; because really it’s about losing Dorian her friend, remember she’s always coming from the mindset of “she will not write another name on her scars” almost to the level of her “I will not be afraid mantra” fading in from QoS in this first EoS quarter) so she wouldn’t risk him even in leaving her side (which props to Maas for breaking a typical VERY possessive YA trait; even at the cost of a promise-ish from the last book; “Next time we need to save the world, we do it together. Deal.”). & keeps keeping that promise to save him; not only to keep her word, but keep her friend. Along the way he so easily becomes Rowan’s friend, thawing the ice by just being a decent guy (that says a lot for a centuries old Prince of stoic brooding). I love the genuine respect they have for each other; the time they take (even short as it is) to have a mini-boat therapy session because they needed it; it says a lot about the two of them as good men; the way they help each-other, plan & train together (Dorian even has time to understand Aelin’s time away with a new compassion😅😅 “Honestly, Dorian had no idea how Aelin had survived months of this--let alone fallen in love with the warrior while she did. Though he supposed both the queen and prince possessed a sadistic streak that made them compatible” & even see Rowan get a taste of the Celaena Sardothien world & find he has similar sass). vice-versa you also see someone valuing Rowan’s strength, strategy, personality beyond warrior or prince, without any of this “male pride chest-puffing instinct”. And the way despite the change in new healthier friendships you also have the original ones growing with them “"And will keep changing," she said, squeezing his arm once. "But... There are things that won't change. I will always be your friend." His throat bobbed. "I wish I could see her, just one last time. To tell her... to say what was in my heart." "She knows," Aelin said, blinking against the burning in her eyes. "I'll miss you," Dorian said. "Though I doubt the next time we meet will be in such …civilized circumstances." She tried not to think about it. He gestured over her shoulder to her court. "Don't make them too miserable. They're only trying to help you."” It helps both him and them; like the team they need to be & are finding a way in: “"We'll figure it out." She loosed a breath. "But your being king is the first step of it."” Like the Queens & Kings they have been becoming for a world slowly building; starting with the fact he is one of the good men that do exist (like Nehemia & Celaena said) and as already shown: “Ten years later, and they were all sitting together at a table again--no longer children, but rulers of their own territories. Ten years later, and here they were, friends despite the forces that had shattered and destroyed them. Aelin looked at the kernel of hope glowing in that dining room and lifted her glass. "To a new world," the Queen of Terrasen said. The King of Adarlan lifted his glass, such endless shadows dancing in his eyes, but--there. A glimmer of life. "To freedom."” esp. as he helps raise up women in positions of power to do so as well! (We love a King ally)

Much like Aelin growing into a queen you see the shift as Dorian becomes a King. “Never again. Never again would he be weak and useless and frightened.” (From a quote I appreciated and found Nesta paralells in). “To her surprise, a king smiled back.” And I just hope somewhere along the way Dorian also finds his happy ending much like our queen is slowly finding a way too (like Rowan said; “You will find your way, too, Dorian. You'll find your way out.”); I think Manon is promising, I think he finally has a real family, & he’s learning his power which is good; his already Kingly skills also come in handy, they needed a diplomat. And for two characters I love so much, a genre that rarely shows good friendships between so many characters and guys having emotions and bonding beyond a love interest trope… I just loved it! p.s. thanks again @ mysterylilycheeta for fandoming about this one with me (and many others :-)

Now speaking of Dorian quotes (plus I needed a transition lol) much like Dorian I do sometimes miss Chaol; “"You know," he said, "sometimes I wish Chaol were here to help me. And then sometimes I'm glad he's not, so he wouldn't be at risk again. I'm glad he's in Antica with Nesryn.”while also being glad he’s off somewhere else… not just ‘cause of the injury (I actually hope they don’t make that THE “problem”, at least in the sense of making him “useless”. While healing in a magical realm is a useful skill, representation of disabled characters in the read world is also really important & still super kick-ass & powerful)… So, I’m glad he’s gone not for that but for the fact I think his mentality would conflict right now (& while Aelin isn’t always right; & does sometimes need a check as Aedion aforementioned & does this at least better thank Chaol in timing & how) + most of the time ya kinda need to just “keep calm & trust the process” because while “the gods may have some “masterplan” & only Aelin can outsmart & outplan them (you just have to let her go for it)… and hopefully Elide will be there to help soon!

Now speaking of good friends, & the rest of this post from “threads of fate”, to really loving characters, friendships, relationships (even most of my favorite quotes) it’s time to address THE SHIP because there is ROWAELIN. TRULY WHERE DO I START? I love them. They are perfect. Nothing can break them (Nothing better try). I love the peace & hope they hold for the other (they want more together, for each other; to live.). The balance they carry; especially when one is down, the other lifts them up (even rapidly flipping; I’m a few Chapters into Part 2 (spoiler sentence)🚨 & there’s the moment where it goes from her being on fire & him waking her from her nightmares, to him so panicked to save her he’s freezing the room & she’s soothing him). The way they are so alike, & shown even more so (as I’ve briefly mentioned) in this book (Rowan having some Celaena moments, her taking on a leader & diplomatic role, learning to control water & him teaching her to heal, exploring each others histories & a growing team of friends for & with them) & VERY different (they are the balance even in what they do share; for instance a scene I think on frequently: when Rowan leaves to go get Dorian, and Aelin cannot let him go. Right there she uses very specific words; she does not ask him to stay instead she says she cannot let him go; because she knows asking him to stay (like Lyria had begged) would kill him or telling him “he’s leaving her” would utterly destroy them both. And he does the same; he distracts her (knows what she needs) takes a moment for them (stops the clock) kisses her and then leaves before she opens her eyes in a flash, so she does not have to watch him leave (again), or (be the one to) walk away from him (he knows she already used all of her will to even have him go in the first place, she cannot ask anything more or she will not ask at all), or run again. They both are feeling the same thing, while understanding the differences they have experienced, they take the notice to love the other the way they need & the only way they can). Part of it stems from something I’ve adressed on the blog before, the honesty they share; and desperately needed. Or have discussed with other fans in beyond that the fact they trust, they can have it all on the table, and respect what has to be kept. Part is the fact they are the others soulmate (waiting for those words: “mate” to “officially” & finally seal what we ALL know by now😂). Another being the threads of fate every character keeps seeing; they are VERY tightly bound beyond separation; for better or worse a tangled knot that can not be undone.

The way in that they would fight by the others side, live & die together, for each-other. They would save the world for each-other (like Rowan jumping in front of the moonfire because he knew her fiery soul; “"No!" The word was a roar, a plea, and silver and green flashed in her vision. A name. A name clanged through her as he hurled himself in the path of that fist, that moonfire, not just to save those innocents in the city, but to spare her soul from the agony if she destroyed them all-Rowan.” — “"If you had destroyed that city, it would have destroyed you, and any sort of hope at an alliance."”) It goes beyond taking a bullet for the other, it goes to taking a bullet from the other (you see that side a lot in HoF). They would save the other for the world (like he says, the world needs alliances; because he knows it needs her, his queen). Or the other from the world; “And as his face became clear, his tattoo stark in the sun, as that fist full of unimaginable power now opened toward his heart-There was no force in any world that could keep her contained.” Together, to whatever end. They would even destroy it for the other; “But if it was death separating us … I would find you. I don’t care how many rules it would break. Even if I had to get all three keys myself and open a gate, I would find you again. Always.” They deserve something that’s an always, known, world & gods defying. And while I appreciate the way they defend each other, I also appreciate the way they defend their friends together; it may be them to whatever end, but it’s also not just them against the world (more so for the world?) they may be capable of destroying the world for each other, still they choose to give everything to save it. They choose each other, they continue to do so, to accept, to be honest. “Even if this thing between them ... even if he knew it was not mere lust, or even just love. This thing between them, the force of it, could devour the world. And if they picked it, picked them, it might very well cause the end of it.” they have a powerful love (one that is quite literally more powerful together). I love that scene too, the carranam; the way he steadies her (he knows why the manacles scare her, knows how to help her breathe despite it; “she is not afraid”), trusts her (she could kill them both, but he believes in her, always has, even before she believed in herself) gives her his power (talk about a feminist ally😂 he literally uses his power to give her more power), and she blazes the world (better & worse); she trusts him enough for the irons (something she may have killed someone else for), she trusts his trust in her (it empowers her metaphorically too), trusts him to save her from herself; trusts him which as this line shows; “"You trust nothing. She met his eyes. "I trust you."” is almost a miracle in itself. I love the easy rhythm they fall into like breathing, simple domesticity (even among war), natural understanding (soulmates), gentle unconditional stubborn & unchanging love that simply is. & is accepted as such. Learning more of their history in parallels & new perspectives, tales & legends, chaos & opposites (especially opposed in power) FIRE & ICE and remains the “meant to be” Carranam; though one of a kind it also understands itself in being love among grief, giving it the ability to see & soothe the unhealthy internal monologues… in a way that’s honestly kinda healing to read; I love their quotes, I love their scenes, I love their characters, I just love them.

It’s been fun to see more Aelin as Aelin, (and I’m not meaning “The one in green smiled, but for all its delight, all its wicked mischief ... It was a softer smile, made with a mouth that was perhaps less used to snarling and teeth-baring and getting away with saying hideous, swaggering things. Lysandra, then. The two queens faced Rolfe.” Lysandra twin-swap scene 😂) the way Celaena is now recognized as a part to play; “You met Aelin when she was still pretending to be Celaena” — “Because it was Celaena who sat here-for whatever purpose, it was Celaena Sardothien in this room.” from the way Rowan helped & accepted her all along. Rowan has always been her protector, her guard, her best champion, fiercest warrior & love, her dearest friend, her everything. It’s the one that saw all & loved anyways “to have one person who knew the absolute truth about her--and didn't hate her for it.” — “I see you, I see every part of you. And I am not afraid.” he is not afraid of her; the first time she’s ever had that… Something she desperately needs as someone so fear-based… She went from being a child who was never not afraid; she was taught to fear her power, fear the secret coming free, because she would be persecuted; because her people would not love her for what she was; she was protected against it and taught her powers weren’t to be trusted. She spent so long burying herself… Arobynn taught her that; created a world of only that for her to exist in, only to survive never to live. And as I’ve said before I LOVE SAM, I truly think he would have accepted her without flinching (I love & believe in the many soulmates for many lives theories; he was Celaena’s) but over & over again the saddest four words of almost they never had time. Thinking someone would love you “even if” is different that getting to experience it, she was still afraid he would turn her in or turn away, he would judge her as she judged herself, or didn’t know “how dark she could go”; like he was too good and she would drag him down. And here is Rowan: the one person who could stop her (the dark comfort she takes in knowing he could save the world if she endangered it; “That is how I was able to stand before the King of Adarlan, how I was able to befriend his son and his captain, how I was able to live in that palace. Because I did not give that rage, those memories, one inch. And right now I am looking for the tools that might destroy my enemy, and I cannot let out the monster, because it will make me use those tools against the king, not put them back as I should--and I might very well destroy the world for spite. So that is why l must be Celaena, not Aelin--because being Aelin means facing those things, and unleashing that monster. Do you understand?”) and doesn’t think that of her; “For whatever it's worth, I don't think you would destroy the world from spite.”

To the moment on the beach that strikes me again & again; Aelin in her rawest state (inner child & traumatized immortal), sobbing, unclothed (a very important detail not because of the rest of Chapter 38 spice but because of the psychological component; she is stripped down to her core at her worst, most vulnerable, visibly terrified uncomfortable state; it’s more like a nightmare of giving a speech & realizing your the only one without clothes), on fire (no hidden power or sense of control), unleashing an entire storm (after almost destroying the world; her world; even against her will); because she is Aelin Ashryver Galathynius “the rightful heir of fire” and Queen of Terrasen; she has been “Adarlans Assassin” & a “King’s Champion” Lillian, Elentiya, Celaena… all of these names… and yet, she is still afraid. And she cannot stop it; she is trying & failing, feeling every step backwards for every step she takes, she is running to nowhere, she is lost. And then there is Rowan. Rowan, who walked to the creak to see her, and went loudly so she would know & not be afraid. Rowan who knows when she needs to let off steam (literally) & has been burned & still does not turn away from her. Rowan who now is “silent as death” because he knows her mind is already screaming enough for the both of them. Rowan who follows her; over & over, unflinching, returning, staying, seeing, & still believing in her (even before she believed in herself; even when she cannot). She is begging for anyone that listens to take the job & all its “blessings & burdens of power”, wishing for a bottom to the endless abyss of her power, drowning in it; helpless in her own strength, because she does not trust herself (how can she when she can’t even be herself; not just Celaena; but Deanna), trying to run from herself. And Rowan who sees, hears, knows; and only cares about her. Choosing her. Loving her. Telling her those words. Arguing against the voices in her head for her; making her feel for a moment that maybe somehow she’s worth it (or at least too lucky to care even if she’s not). Because he has every reason to go; he knows what he could lose (even as they stand there; he is still shaken & terrified; he just saw a god steal the woman he loves from her own mind; he has no idea how to fight that & bring her back) He has lost that; felt it for centuries The world may be the price, they may be the price, they are in the middle of a war waged & waiting for hundreds of years; and he does not care. He only cares about her; better & worse. And she is not alone; never again. Reminding her that she can be both, staying on the road. As he says (a quote that made me cry): “You and I will learn to manage your power together. You do not face this alone; you do not decide that you are unlovable because you have powers that can save and destroy. If you start to resent that power… I don’t know where we go on that road.” And when she voices it, that fear (that brought me to tears); you’re just crazy for loving me.“"Because I'm the only one arrogant and insane enough to ask Mala Fire-Bringer to let me stay with the woman I love. Her flames turned to pure gold at the words-at that word. But she said, "Perhaps you're just the only one arrogant and insane enough to love me."” He simply, firmly, undoubtably, says no. … And when the times comes; when he creates a snow storm of his own (& destroys half a forrest😂) she just laughs, holds him closer, kisses him again. As she says; “who would not look at those flames with any ounce of fear.” as anyone else would have. They aren’t afraid of each other, they aren’t afraid, not together. “But Rowan had caught her each time she had fallen-first, when she had plummeted into that abyss of despair and grief; second, when that castle had shattered and she had plunged to the earth. And now this time, this third time ... She was not afraid.”

And because they are equal, because they will go to whatever end, because they pull each other back over & over whenever/wherever they drift. (And while I love Lyria, I believe she was one of his soulmates) I don’t think anyone ever understood him so well in return… Rowan loved Lyria. Lyria wanted him to stay for good reason, but he was not able to tire to rest to settle; she did not understand the warrior; just as he couldn’t understand enough not to be. Where peace was never quite had, the warrior that could not rest; there is Aelin. Who just goes to war with him, for him, for them. She is his hope, his queen, his love, his world, his fireheart🥹, & his everything (& thankfully NOT because of the blood-oath; “"How does she do it?" Aelin asked baldly. "With Rowan, it's not ... Every order I give him, even casual ones, are his to decide what to do with. Only when I actively pull on the bond can I get him to ... yield. And even then it's more of a suggestion." "It is different with her," Gavriel said softly. "Dependent on the ruler it is sworn to. You two took the oath to each other with love in your hearts. You had no desire to own or rule him." Aelin tried not to flinch at the truth of that word—love. That day ... when Rowan had looked into her eyes as he drank her blood ... she'd started to realize what it was. That the feeling that passed between them, so powerful there was no language to describe it ... It was not mere friendship, but something born of and strengthened by it.” glad they clarified that to give consent). I’ve said this about them before and I’ll say it again there is something healing in how wholly they accept and understand each other (to the point you would think they are reading minds), how evenly matched and equal they are. They are two of the best matched characters I know of; at times even to a fault (but even that is taken in stride). Aelin and Rowan are everything they have ever been with the other. This isn’t a comparison, there’s something beautiful to each of them (I’ll even still say that to Dorian & Aelin, the way their friendship came to be, and re-reads what might have been) there is just the fact that this is different and I think it’s a special kind of something. And the fact in the matching for the other they can go to the ends of the earth together; whether it be as Queen and Prince (though he would make a good king ;-) or assassins, gentle souls trying to rest, never at rest but trying for peace, fae and shifters fire and ice, warriors, martyrs, saviors, villains, Kings Champion & Maeve’s Cadre, friends, mates, whatever it may be “to whatever end”.

I especially love them in the little things… all these moments that show everything I’ve said and more.

The detail in Rowan knowing the other side to Aelin keeping him at the beach, and it not taking away from the moment. He knows, he accepts it. They know the layers, they don’t pretend otherwise, they don’t run or fight it, they just sit with it. The way he held her & grounded her during the sea battle, believing in her even as she lost her balance in power, the way she came back from Deanna for him, the way she held on to him through the storm. She reminds him what he is; that he is everything she needs, she doesn’t take the bullshit, she doesn’t give up; she lends a hand, or lets him follow, or defends him. And they finally said it; I love you. — Actually better than that, worlds best quote award of: “I love you. There is no limit to what I can give to you, no time I need. Even when this world is a forgotten whisper of dust between the stars, I will love you.”They finally chose this, them; and the world needed it (I will go down with the ship of them as queen and king). … So, my shippers heart is happy, I want more, I’m happy they’re happy, I want them to stay happy. They are the best brightest threads of fate & for a book I’ve loved to see tie together, the Rowaelin ship has been pretty perfect.

And some random notes I keep wondering on:

The color green in this series… From Lysandra’s eyes (the one marker she keeps in each form; funny as it’s also Terrasen (her future Courts) color, to Rowan’s pine green (& often “home” like Terrasen descriptions (once again)) to the green roofing of Rifthold, or tiling of the desert, the stolen wax stamp rings, Terrasen’s color, etc. … it’s just used to tell a lot of story & I find it a fun note!

On the subject of these “fun notes” I’d also like to Mention Maasverse “deals” in wording; I find it so interesting how carefully phrased (like a genie) things need to be, yet kept to their word they are. I feel like there’s some loopholes within some plots right now using that clause (if only there was Mort to prove it!)… I miss Mort…

There’s all of Lysandra’s shapeshifting, the character in that, her character all together. And then moments like Rowan reaching her to fly, to have her own wings. And introducing more powers outside of fae.

Fenyrs possible… winnowing? Whatever reason it was that Rowan sent him to save Aelin instead of himself (obviously meaning he was more capable because Rowan would save her any means necessary).

And these aforementioned threads of fate are pretty brilliantly done, I look forward to continuing to enjoy them. From Oakwald to 10 years ago to the detail of plans (Aelin going to the temple, for Brannon & the Dragon, & her territory claim… etc.)… SO MANY!!!

Especially because of YOU!..

— Final, biggest most important book/fandom thought yet: —

THANK YOU to the Maasverse!

As someone who doesn’t know anyone reading these —one of my favorite things to do is talk about them with other fans— I’m thankful to still have that; I’m thankful that tumblr has that; and thankful that y’all are so welcoming, kind, talented, & lovely! (Limiting full tags as this post is ridiculously long and no one should “have” to read it😂)

There’s a long list of you, to name a few (others please know you are still on the list, loved & appreciated)!! @ archerons-elain @ highladyelenna @ iwantavaldezinator @ romantasyreader28 @ antvwinderbaum @ shadowhunters77 @ chaos-on-stand-bi @ theauroragalaxy @ impossibelle @ aelin-fire-heart @ autumnbabylon @ headboymalfoy @ somebooksbelonginthesinbin @ idfendyr @ winged-artistic-wolf @ batter-upp @ cheap-spirits @ just tsteffs50cts @ xxvalkyriesxx @ captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @ lynnsthoughts @ maevecrom @ stingy-swann @ mothlvrtothemoon @ wannaberachelgrxxn @ sweetokami @ avymiir

& so if I missed any, like I said just know you are so appreciated🫶 … and sorry I get confused sometimes (as this is technically a secondary blog to @lavendarneverlands lol😂). It’s always me though🤣

[vincentmatthews]

Getting To Know Me~♡

🌱Tagged By:

@timaeusterrored 💕 I live rent-free in their ask box and they allow me to bother them constantly about their characters. I should get the guts to dm them to try and make friends but I'm scared I'll come off as weird so I just live in their questions.

Translation: *BARKBARKBARK*

🌱Favorite Color:

Baby blue, Sunflower yellow, and Neon orange

🌱Currently Reading:

Co-writing/Roleplay -> Humiliation with @crimsonixx We've been keeping that discord channel active since Nov 28, 2021

Book -> I'm Glad My Mom Died. I've heard great things of this book and decided to pick up a copy to read on my road trip this weekend. {Granted I don't get car sick and end up with my face in a plastic bag 90% of the ride.}

Other than that, nothing much, I need to sit down and read You Regret Me. Maybe I'll pick it up this coming weekend so I have something to read while we drive down to Nevada. Even if I have to screencap the pages and read it through my gallery.

🌱Last Song:

{Link}

🌱Last Movie:

I did a double feature which were: Juno {it's become a comfort movie} and Napoleon Dynamite {it's nostalgic}.

🌱Last Series:

I don't know if podcasts count, and if so, then it's gotta be Distractible on Spotify {now with video episodes! :3}

As for TV shows, the last series I watched was the original older episodes of SpongeBob because they were nostalgic as fuck. Like Krusty Krab pizza episode, that's top-tier work right there.

🌱Sweet, Savory, or Spicy?

All, I'm not picky. But Salty and Sweet is amazing~♡ Like a salted caramel~♡ {Do y'all pronounce it as Car-mel? Or like Cara-mel?}

🌱Craving?

A beat up John Wick so I can run him a hot bubble bath, give him face kisses, and cover him in Hello Kitty Band-aids. Also someone get my man two wolves as pets.

🌱Tea or Coffee?

I love a good London Fog~♡ Sadly, I have a more Caffeine lean as of late. And nothing tastes better than a good ol' cuppa joe in the mornin'.

🌱Currently Working On:

Fanfic/Small depressing story -> Summer Rain, which is a sequel to another writing I'm not done with. Summer Rain goes more into Vince losing his sensation of touch and registering the difference between hot and cold. It leads more into why he left in the middle of the night. Which is where my first one picks up.

Fanfic/Requested Story -> I Don't Want To Live Forever. I posted a small WIP section of this before. It's a small ship story for @crimsonixx with their O.C. Jess and Johnny. It's a wholesome story where they drive around NC on her bike late at night, enjoying each other's company. It's one of the times Johnny shows his more sensitive and "human" side.

Fanfic/Special Writing -> Small gift writing between my OC Vinessa/Vinny and another user's OC. I won't give too much away since they don't know I'm writing it. My favorite section so far is Ker screaming at Vinny from the upstairs bedroom window.

I have a whole lot more that I'm working on. I kinda bounce around from writing to writing. 90% of the time they get finished, it just takes a while. The other 10% get locked away and never see the light of day. :3

🌱Random thing about me:

♡I love bees and honey.

♡My favorite comfort game is Slime Rancher and Firewatch💕

♡I'm 5ft 5in. But I wish I was 6ft 1in. I feel short. >:(

♡My favorite type of weather is summer thunder storms

♡My favorite fruit are strawberries and watermelon.

♡I have a jack-shit named Buddy. :3

♡My favorite horror movie is Scream because Matthew Lillard is a babe~♡ {Side note: I'm so excited for FNAF because Matthew's going to be in it x3 It's about time our Scream Daddy was in another horror movie~♡}

♡I've stayed in a haunted hotel before~♡

♡My favorite holidays are Halloween and Christmas 💕

♡My passions are cooking and writing~♡

🌱Tagging:

@crimsonixx and whoever else has seen this, and hasn't already participated, consider yourself tagged💕

[macamadamia]

The Coffee Table Incident Chapter 2: The Incident

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51051661/chapters/129472237

Ship: Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester

Rating: Mature

Total Word Count: 3,037

AO3 Tags: Total Power Exchange, 24/7 Dom/sub, Punishment, Cock & Ball Torture, Bondage, Human Furniture, Gags, Discipline, Collars, Leashes, Light Sadism, Verbal Humiliation

No, no, stay where you are. Don’t move an inch, and stay silent. I’ll be back in a moment.

Cas is gone for more than a moment. 

It’s enough time for Dean to start to fidget. He needs to get up, work off some of the nervous energy that’s gathering inside him like a storm.

He follows the sound of Cas’ footsteps around the house, floorboards creaking as he goes. When the shower starts to run, and he realises Cas will be drawing this out as long as he can, Dean rolls his eyes. He almost gets up, but the sense of self-preservation that failed him earlier, stops him now.

Cas returns, cardboard box under his arm, and Dean hasn’t moved.

When Gabriel had called to tell them about the fire, they’d rushed back from vacation to find their home in ashes, and their only surviving possessions being what they’d packed to take away.

At their old house, they’d had a whole sound-proofed dungeon set up in the spare room (and hadn’t that been an embarrassing conversation to have with the fire investigator. Gabriel certainly hadn’t let them forget it.) 

Now they just had a couple of boxes shoved onto the top shelf of their wardrobe.

He is intimately familiar with the contents of those boxes.

Castiel, freshly showered and changed into a pair of soft black tracksuit pants and a grey t-shirt, sets the box down on the sofa. He leans down towards Dean, hooking a finger through the ring at the front of his collar and pulling him close enough to speak directly into his ear.

“Stand up and strip, boy. You won’t need clothing for this.”

Dean strips, folding his clothes into a neat pile on the sofa. When he moves to put his boots by the door, Castiel stops him with a hand on his arm and points to a spot on the floor. “Leave those.”

Naked, goosebumps rising on his skin, Dean waits. He barely breathes as Castiel moves behind him, the sound of metal clattering against metal filling his senses, his heartbeat racing to match. Dean is cautious as Castiel approaches with the two lengths of chain draped across his arm. The shackles click as they tap-tap against each other.

Castiel makes short work of chaining Dean’s wrists together. When he crouches down to ratchet the shackles around his ankles, tapping Dean’s calf so he raises first one foot, then the other, Dean can feel his breath on his skin, and he stirs in response.

“None of that, now.” Castiel slaps Dean’s dick with enough force to drive a pained whimper out of him.

Castiel looks up at him, raising an eyebrow, “do I have to gag you? Or are you at least capable of following the basic instruction of stay silent?”

Dean shakes his head, averting his eyes. His cheeks redden with shame. He really is useless; he can’t even follow simple instructions. Castiel deserves better. He thoughts begin to spiral, but he’s snapped out of it when Castiel stands back up.

Dean is shackled by his wrists and his ankles, and the cuffs are tight enough that he knows he’ll be left with marks, bruises that he’ll have to cover up at work.

He also knows there’s no way this is the only thing Castiel has planned. 

His mind races as it tries to imagine what else is coming his way, but when Castiel reaches to the sofa and hands him a spray bottle of cleaner and a bundle of cloth that looked vaguely familiar, he blinks. Confused.

“Clean. The. Table.”

Crouching beside the table, the chain between his wrists clattering as he rushes to comply. When Castiel growls “if you scratch it, we will have a problem” Dean slows his movements, careful to keep the chain away from the lacquered surface.

He finishes, sitting back on his haunches and holding the spray bottle and rag up to Castiel like an offering to his god.

His god rejects him. “Does that look clean, boy?” Castiel shakes his head, disappointed, and runs a finger across the table. “I don’t expect perfection from you, but do you think that little of me, that you won’t even try your best?”

Dean’s face is aflame, shame curling in his belly as the pressure mounts behind his eyes. He closes them against the threatening tears, shaking his head.

“Then do it again.”

Twice more, Castiel makes him clean the table, before he’s satisfied.

Halfway through the second attempt, he shakes the cloth out to find a dry patch and realises why it looks familiar. It’s his t-shirt. His favourite t-shirt, the ZZ Top t-shirt Castiel bought him for Christmas the year before last. He stops for a moment, holding it in his hands, until Castiel lets out a deep and put-upon sigh. Dean shakes himself out of his stupor, and hurries to continue his task.

On the third attempt, Castiel narrows his eyes and nods his satisfaction. Then he instructs Dean to carry the table outside, since it should be aired.

It’s a struggle, one that Castiel stands by to watch, tapping his foot in impatience while Dean manages to get his hobbled arms under the table, and stumbles through the kitchen to the back door. When he gets there, he almost makes another mistake. Instead, he gently puts the table down and returns to Castiel, who is waiting with a bored expression and a raised eyebrow.

“Sir?” his voice is rough. “Can I open the door?” Under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be an issue. However, he knows – through a painful learning process – that if he’s shackled, he must ask permission to open the door.

Permission granted, he hobbles back through the kitchen, and takes Castiel’s coffee table out to the back porch. He can hear the deep rumble of Castiel’s voice follow him, complaining about how useless he is that he can’t even open a door without asking for help.

On his return, Castiel points to the floor. “This room is lacking… something. A piece of furniture that will really tie everything together.”

Dean frowns, confused, but quickly catches on. Kneeling on all fours, matching his knees and hands to the indentations in the rug, his heart races when a blindfold is slipped over his head.

“Can you see?”

Dean shakes his head, reeling at a not-so-light slap across his face. “Answer with your words.”

“No, sir. I can’t see.” He doesn’t even attempt to hide the tremble in his voice.

“Good. Now hold very, very still.”

A hand grasps his chin, and a ball gag is pushed behind his teeth, stretching his mouth wide. The straps dig, painfully, into his face. When the buckle at the back is fastened, it catches some of his hair and he grunts at the pain.

Castiel grasps a handful of his hair, voice low as he tells Dean life would be easier if he just shaved his hair off completely. Dean shudders underneath the touch, breathing a sigh of relief when the hand leaves his head.

That feeling dissolves when Castiel grabs his balls and pulls them sharply away from his body. He yelps behind the gag, instinctually tries reaching a hand down to protect his junk, but gets caught by the length of chain. His hand slides out from underneath him, and he lands chest-first on the rug.

“Useless.”

He whimpers, the saliva pooling in his mouth dripping onto the carpet and struggles back into position. His arms shake.

Castiel still has a vice-like grip on his balls. He hears the sound of clicking metal on metal, the realisation hitting him a heartbeat before the cold steel of the ball stretcher snaps around his scrotum.

The dull spikes on the inside of the metal clamp dig into his flesh, and he sobs behind the gag as Castiel tugs on it to test its fit.

“Listen carefully, Dean.” Castiel leans in. “Shoes do not belong on the coffee table. I want you to nod to show me that you’re listening.” Dean nods, frantic, mumbling words of assent around the gag. 

His mind whites out when Castiel attaches a weight to one side of the ball stretcher. “However. Since you seem to disagree. We will put the shoes on the coffee table.”

He ties another weight on. Then smacks Dean’s ass with his hand, causing the weights to shift. They bump into his knees. It’s his boots, Dean realises when the. He’s attached his boots to the weight hooks on either side of the ball stretcher.

Dean keens behind the gag and Castiel slaps him again, hard. The boots tug on the metal clamped around his scrotum, pushing the metal prongs deeper into his flesh.

“Furniture doesn’t move.” 

Dean forces himself to stillness. His arms still shake, despite his best efforts, and he feels like he’s being ripped apart. In the darkness behind the blindfold, the pain in his groin becomes his whole world.

Until socked feet hit his lower back, heels painfully sharp, and the sound of the television turning on reaches Dean through the rush of blood in his ears. Castiel is watching Dr. Sexy.

He tries to remain present by listening to the episode, but his mind keeps buzzing in and out or awareness, and he quickly loses track. Castiel is restless, shifting position and digging his heels into Dean’s back. The boots dragging at his groin sway every time he moves, tugging painfully on his balls, the metal spikes on the inside of the clamp pressing into his sensitive flesh.

The pain becomes his whole world, and he sinks further into his own mind.

Time passes.

He isn’t sure how long – it could be minutes; it could be hours. It seems like days since he felt a gentle touch. But it could be months since he last deserved one.

“Stay still, and stay quiet.”

The curtains are drawn, and the room is dark when the blindfold is removed. He stirs, not quite present enough to be startled that he didn’t notice Castiel’s feet leave his back, nor hear him moving around the now-quiet room.

He knows he doesn’t warrant that much consideration and he’s thankful for the care shown for his comfort, nuzzling at the hand resting on his face to try to show his gratitude. A hand runs through his sweat-damp hair, and he recalls a comment about how it would be easier to just shave him bald.

Deft fingers unlatch the fastener from behind his head, the straps falling loose. He doesn’t relinquish the gag until his chin is titled up and it’s removed from behind his teeth. His jaw aches, and his lower face is covered in drool. He glances down, sees where it’s pooled on his ZZ Top t-shirt – no, not his t-shirt, it’s the cleaning rag that used to be his.

Castiel uses the rag to wipe his face, and he’s almost overwhelmed by the chemical odour of the cleaning agents used earlier. The smell pulls him further back into his body, and he becomes freshly aware of the pain between his legs.

When the clamp is removed from his scrotum, he bites back the cry that erupts within in him.

Stay still, and stay quiet. He clings to those words. A drowning man clinging to driftwood.

Castiel attaches a leash to the ring at the front of his collar, tugging gently, and leads Dean to a pile of blankets near the bookcase in the corner of the room. 

Dean, grateful he doesn’t have to think about where he’s going, or what he’s doing, drops to the ground. He doesn’t notice Castiel tying the leash to a hook on the bookshelf, but he’s aware of the blanket dropped onto him, the gentle hand that runs through his hair, and the soft “good boy” as he finally, gratefully, drifts off to sleep.

It’s night time, the next time he regains consciousness. He hurts all over. He stretches, the shackles gone from his wrists and ankles, the only restraint left is his leash tied to the bookshelf. He blinks wearily at Castiel, who’s sitting reading a book on the sofa, in a halo of light cast by the soft glow of the lamp beside him.

He’s still drifting a little, in his mind. He’s comfortable, the blankets are warm, and Castiel’s gaze is soft and gentle.

“Go back to sleep, Dean.”

He falls back into sleep.

It’s morning when he wakes next. Castiel is sitting on the floor beside him, Dean’s leash in his hand and Dean’s head resting on his lap. They stay that way together in the early morning light, until Cas unclips his leash and sends him off into the kitchen to make breakfast.

Before he leaves for work he brings the table back in from outside, giving it one last wipe down with the spray bottle and the rag.

[janumun]

Between Devil and Sea (Obey Me Levi - NSFW)

Rated: NSFW/18+ Pairing: Leviathan/Female Reader

Tags: possession, (Levi’s) rationale break/yandere tendencies, overstimulation, implied breeding kink, dubious consent, monster-fucking (he is grand admiral in his grand demonic form) Words: 1.3k

Summary: Failure to obey your captain of the ship hurtles an already troubled Levi, down a dark, dreary path. Abhorrence of the seas... what he’s forced to bear through his heavy mantle as Grand Admiral of Hell’s Navy, takes a frightening turn when he almost loses you to what he most detests.

Author’s Notes: That’s... 🥵 a lot going on, stranded in the middle of an ocean with no escape in sight, Big Brain Nonny. I am digging this! just like Levi will be digging into her down below 😇😇 This is very consensual in my mind but will read as dubious consent because of your request for yandere Levi. Stay thirsty, kinky and I hope you enjoy your read!

(Requests for this event are now closed, dear readers. Thank you to all those who participated.)

“I told you to be careful. I told you to stay below deck!”

Your fingers brush against the insignia of his crisp white uniform — a fleeting graze — before Levi wrenches himself away from your touch once more. Smoothing a gloved hand down the line of his shirt, he angles himself your way. Vermillion gaze refusing to meets yours, he stares just past you; brows knotted still with the sharp worry and dread that darkens his features. Murmuring words of disbelief and disapproval over your actions earlier.

And before you can try reach for him, the coiling pressure against your stomach grips once more, his thick appendage shoving deeper into your pussy. The torturous drag of the scaled surface of his tail punching a warbled moan out of you.

Levi’s gaze flitters to yours for one brief reprieve before he denies you once more. His tail tightens its curl about your abdomen, pressing your legs apart when you try push them closed. Rocking the tapered end of the appendage into your pussy. The sheer size of just the tip — far slender than the rest of it and yet, wide enough it splits you open, makes you squirm atop the wooden surface of the Admiral’s work-desk. “You don’t really care for me, do you? Look at you, weeping across my tail… fucking yourself over it as if it’s a toy. Hah… why would you care?” His shoulders sink at the notion, expression shrouded beneath the brim of his peaked cap.

You move to refute him, violently shaking your head in denial of his accusation. And the previously steady thrusts into your pussy turn erratic in a sudden burst of violence. The ridged surface of him propelling inhumane and brisk, into your walls, throws you into another orgasm. Wrenching tears from wide eyes at the forced drive of stimulation as his tail continues writhing within you.

Recalling to mind why exactly you’d ended up in this predicament of being doubted of your intentions for your beloved. A request you’d made to accompany Levi on his next assignment as Grand Admiral; a chance for a peaceful voyage across Hell’s Sea gone awry when you’d broken your promise to value your safety above all else…

The unprecedented violence of the storms that caught the ship an hour into your journey, had Levi asking you to stay put within the Captain’s quarters while he left for the deck to deal with the situation on board.

Worry for his safety wracking your nerves as the large ship was rocked about violently. Seemingly afloat by sheer force of will as the storm continued to rage outside, as if alive and monstrous. With the torturous progress of time and the increasing din of thunder, you’d rushed above deck, in search of him.

A wrong decision; sea spray, acrid and burning doused your skin as soon as you surfaced. Watching in horror as soldiers dashed about to protect their ship on one greater demon’s orders. Levi’s gaze — fixated upon the surface of the dark waters — vivid with an eerie brutality, as if he’d torch down the entire sea were it up to him. Recalling to mind, a reflection of him from when you’d first faced his wrath and envy — the terrifying magnitude of his powers almost costing you your life, were it not for the other brothers.

A great, dark wave whips upwards from the calamitous surface — no, not the sea, something far dangerous: a demonic sea creature — hurtling towards Levi and you scream for him on instinct.

Levi’s head whisks your way in shock, then frenzied panic; he shouts your name in warning. “Duck! Now!”

Belated, as the sea creature’s great sinuous limbs collide vicious with the ship, the colossal impact sending you skidding straight for deep waters.

Your world is chaos for the next awful moments: an anguished shout — Levi’s — followed on heels by the ugly wail of a dying creature, the spray of dark blood, macabre petals within the atmosphere. A rushed, frenetic incantation scraped in the roar of a voice unlike anything you’ve ever heard before—

“O fiend of water, creature of jealousy, in the name of Leviathan, I command you! Come forth, Lotan!”

And then, the violent propulsion of your body caught mid-air within the slimed coil of a monster’s tentacle, rising from the seas to his Master’s commands.

Your will and consciousness fading as you’re deposited, without harm, into Levi’s icy embrace. Your last sight of your demon rocking on his heels, with you clutched to his body, murmuring words you can no longer make sense of….

You scream, body taken in the ruthless grip of yet another orgasm, back arching off the desk you’re unable to move from. The tail within you continues its stimulation — albeit slow — into a numbed crescendo. Your body thrashing on instinct, to shy away from the intensity of it all. And yet, Levi remains ruthless.

The thick appendage reminiscent of his monstrous familiar in how it coils slick against your entire body, the slow inescapable tightening. Binding your limbs flush to your breasts; body drained from the incessant curl of him within your pussy, driving in steady strokes into you. Forcing you onto the steep curve of an impending orgasm. “Levi, please… I can’t—” A particular hard propulsion breaks your words apart, your walls clamping against the intrusion before it slows… then stops.

Levi extracting his tail drags a relieved warble out of you, your vision giving into grey in exhaustion—

Until a quick, sudden ingress of something long and incredibly hot jostles your mind, back arching off the wooden surface in a strangled scream. Scorched, almost delirious breaths against your ear, “I won’t let you kill yourself and abandon me. Iwon’tbeleftaloneagain.” His words are an incoherent tumble, a rush of desperation you’ve glimpsed within him time and again. One you’d ignored and soothed each time it surfaced, hoping to restore his gentle heart to its place. But the intensity of this Levi, almost untethered and unmatched in his dominance and authority as the third most powerful of the seven demon lords of Hell…

Your hands; fingernails scrabble for purchase across the sleeves of his uniform as your fogged mind realizes the one driving into you is no longer a cold, scaly creature. Levi’s hips heave into yours with each heavy slam of him into your walls, swollen with your arousal and his — a belated realization of his cock spurting its release into you. And yet he continues to plunge himself into you as if maddened. Your combined release staining across your thighs with each violent thrust.

A pristine gloved hand grips around your thigh to throw it wide onto his shoulder, “Love me, e-even if someone like me doesn’t deserve you. It’s... it’s your fault I’m so afraid… your fault! Your fault!” Vermillion eyes so pained as they implore you to look at him alone. And before you can give him your answer, perhaps your reply comes too slow…

That beseeching light fades out of existence; the cold hard look of almost bitter resentment replacing it as he towers over your body — the same stranger that had aimed to tear you apart, out of envy, so long ago. Now seeking to eradicate all that your gaze seeks to love, your demon consumed by the fires of spite and jealousy.

Driving deep into you, “I’ll fill you up with me, then… everywhere. Haa… until you know how much a pathetic demon like me loves you, only you.”

End Notes: Thank you for reading!

° Master List °

[chaotictarlos]

Hot Chocolate Wishes

ship: Tarlos | fandom: 911 Lone Star | author: chaotictarlos | read on ao3

For: @tarlosweeklyprompts 12 Days of Tarlos, Day One: Enjoying Hot Chocolate Together | Warnings / Tags: Fluff, Slight Angst, Tarlos as Dad's, Snow, family, hurt and comfort, soft vibes

Authors Note: I am so excited about this event and hope to write a few fics for it! It's going to be so much fun! This fic was 100% inspired by the airplane window video that Rafa posted the other day. Rafael Silva is my forever muse and I adore him. If he ever sees this fic, I hope he doesn't because I would die but apparently he's interested in reading tarlos fan fiction, i hope he enjoys it. 🤣

--

Fat, cotton ball snowflakes fall quickly from the sky and settle into Carlos’ loose curls, peppering his hair with white dots that melt and make his hair damp. It only encourages his hair to be messy as he shoves anxious fingers through the tangled strands. 

This isn’t how his day was supposed to go. He isn’t supposed to be thousands of miles still away from his husband and daughters. He shouldn’t be standing outside of the New Jersey Airport, bags by his side and waiting for a taxi to take him to a hotel room that the airport booked for him when they told him that all flights had been canceled due to the snow storm.

He sniffles quietly, telling himself that the sniffles are just from the cold, not from the tears that were gathering at the corner of his eyes and waiting to fall. 

Soon a taxi drives up and the driver helps him put his bags in the car's trunk before he climbs into the back seat. He tells the driver where he’s going and pulls out his phone, waking the lock screen and staring at the picture that beams up at him. 

It’s a picture of TK holding their two girls, smiling brightly and happily. It makes Carlos sniffle again as a tear slips down his cheek as much as he wishes it wouldn’t. His heart aches to be beside them, listening to the girls laugh and fight over some toy that they both have but of course they want to play with the same one and to be in TK’s arms, holding him close and thinking about how lucky he was to have the life that he has now. 

He unlocks his phone and pulls up the messages that he’s been exchanging with TK over the two weeks that he had been gone. Thankfully they had made up after the little fight they had before Carlos had left - TK was unhappy with Carlos having to go on this work trip so close to the holidays and for so long - so their exchanges were happy but filled with longing. His fingers hover over the message box, hesitating to send the message that he wouldn’t be coming home tonight and that flights had been canceled.

Read more on AO3

tags: @strangefurychaos @ronensass @sapphire11 @first-kanaphan @angeltk @noxsoulmate   @beautifulhigh @welcometololaland @rangergurlgleek1211 @detective-giggles @tarlos-spain @lonestardust @bubblesandroses8 @thebumblecee

[javier-djarin]

Son of the Medjai: Chapter 10

The Mummy AU

Ship: Pero Tovar x Aria MacKenzie (OC)

Rating: M

Word Count:    3,556 Words

Warnings: Language, Violence

Masterlist

Summary: Kazemde and Beckett have taken Aria. Now, Pero is prepared to do anything to get her back, and he’s bringing hell with him.

A/N:  @rebelscumlena​​ and I have been super busy, but we haven’t forgotten you! Here is chapter 10! We’ve only a few more chapters left before this fic is over. Please let me know if you want to be on my taglist and what you think of the fic! If there is a strikethrough in your name, Tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you. Any Translations will always be found at the bottom of every chapter. If you know the OP of the gif, please let me know, so I can give them their due credit.

Everything was a blur. Once Kazemde left with Aria, Pero’s vision was filled with nothing but rage and the drive to survive. He fired his weapon until he was out of ammunition, and then used everything within arm’s reach to take down more of the mob. His ribs were throbbing with each movement as he followed Shakir to the only escape in the entire museum. He grabbed one of the spears that were on display in the hallway, swinging and stabbing at their attackers. Only a few managed to fill the hallway behind him, but Shakir and William held them off. Murphy had grabbed his own ancient weapon and aided Pero. Blood seeped down his arm, but he fought through the pain. The crowd pushed in on them, but stayed far enough out of their reach to avoid their attacks. “They’re trying to corner us,” Pero spat.

“Once we reach the archives,” Mostafa shouted over the chanting mob, “we can barricade the door to buy us time to escape.” The old man fumbled with the keys, but eventually unlocked the door. Shakir pushed Will in first, followed by Murphy. “Go! I’ll hold them off.”

“I’m not leaving you out here to die!”

“I’m doing my duty to protect our pharoah. Now, go!”

Pero growled and flipped the spear in his hand before launching it into the crowd. Mostafa locked the door before tossing the keys into the room with them, Shakir pushing it closed behind them. The sounds of the attack were muffled behind the thick wooden door. “Fuck!” Pero snapped, kicking over a table.

Shakir ignored his outburst and swiftly led them to the back of the archives where a trap door under an elegant rug waited for them. Pero stood, facing the door and taking quick, sharp breaths. Murphy dropped his hand from his arm and rested a bloody hand on Pero’s shoulder, pulling him towards their only chance at escape. Aria’s screams still rang in Pero’s ears as Kazemde dragged her out of the building. “Tovar,” Murphy snarled, drawing Pero back to the present, “we need to move. You can’t get her back by glaring at the door.”

Pero shoved him off and stormed to Shakir. He ignored the hand Shakir gave him to help him into the hole and moved first. He landed in a long tunnel that led out of the building, but hopefully not too far. He was not about to abandon his arsenal here to fall into the possession of Kazemde’s minions. “We need to get to my compound,” Will said, landing with a thud next to Pero.

Pero grabbed a torch off the wall and snatched the lighter from Shakir once he joined them.

“Izzy needs to look at those ribs before --”

“I’m fine,” he coldly stated, “the less time we spend at the compound, the sooner I can get to Aria.” He practically ran through the tunnel until he reached the end. He felt a burn in the back of his throat, remembering the look in her eyes as she watched him disappear into that mob. He’d made her a promise, and he intended to keep it, even if that meant he’d burn Egypt to the ground to get her back. “I’m coming, Aria,” he whispered, tightening his grip on his torch.

***

It took almost an hour to get back to the car before driving to the compound, and before William would even let Pero near the armory, he was forced to let Izzy examine his ribs. He hissed and swore while Izzy rebandaged them, trying to set the one that was fractured. “Who the hell did you piss off this time?” the man asked.

Pero glared at him. “The usual. Beckett and a mummy returned from the dead.”

Izzy shook his head, while tying the bandage in place. “Right,” he replied, as if this were a daily occurrence. “I’m only helping you, because who else is going to get that nice girl back? You were much more pleasant with her around.”

Pero tensed. “I’m going to gut Beckett the moment I see him,” he seethed.

“Good,” Izzy huffed, “never cared much for Beckett. The bastard owes me a fuck ton of money anyway.”

He glared at Izzy before hopping off the medical table, snatching his shirt from the chair. He stalked to the other side of the compound to find Murphy, Shakir, and William stockpiling weapons and ammunition in the armory. Pero stormed to his locker, pulling out fresh clothes before changing, as he ignored the conversation taking place behind him. He stared into the mirror, hanging there. Last time he was here, he could see her behind him, trying not to glance over her shoulder to watch him change. White hot embarrassment had crept up the back of her neck, flushing her cheeks when she’d finally turned to face him. He was almost certain that was the moment he knew how he’d felt about her, and dammit, he wished he’d said something to her before Kazemde took her. He slammed his locker shut, angry that the one thing he’d promised her he couldn’t give her.

You could never fail me, she had said to him. His chest tightened. He needed to focus right now, and get to Aten before they did. Kazemde and Beckett would not see tomorrow’s sunrise if it was the last thing he did. The rest of the men were watching him, waiting for his orders.

“Your plane,” he said, staring at Will, “can she fly?”

Will smirked. “Coincidentally, Izzy just fixed her last week. She’s ready for flight.”

Pero smirked. “Perfect. I want you to fly us in as close as you can. Kazemde will know I’m coming, so we need to be swift. Murphy,” he said, turning to him and noting the blood still dripping down his arm, “You and Shakir will grab the gold book from Nefertari’s tomb. Will and I are going to rig the main entrances with explosives to slow the bastard down.”

“What if the book needs the key?” Murphy asked.

“Leave that to me.” He took a ragged breath.

After Izzy finished stitching Murphy’s wound and Pero packed an entire arsenal that could supply a small army, they waited impatiently for William to rush through flight checks. Murphy leaned against the side of the hangar door with Shakir, as they watched Pero snarl and snap at his former employer. He’d seen the Spaniard angry, but this was new. He’d never seen him unhinged, like he’d already lost her. Murphy didn’t like it any more than Pero that his sister was in the arms of the deadliest person in the world, but he trusted that Aria had a plan; he trusted they would get to her in time.

Shakir shifted next to him, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Legend has it that Kazemde was the one who killed Nefertari,” he said, “and if that’s so, then Pero has seen Aria’s death…in more than one way.”

Murphy’s eyes widened in horror. “You mean --”

“Pero knows he will lose her if he doesn’t get to Aten before Kazemde.” Shakir straightened, giving Murphy a stern stare. “Ausar cannot lose Nefertari again. They were promised a lifetime together if they stopped Kazemde.”

Murphy turned to watch Pero as he aggressively tossed his bags into the plane. “While we were in Aten, I glossed over Aria’s notes about Ausar and Nefertari, but I never saw the mural they discovered. She wrote ‘to defeat ultimate evil would be to pay the ultimate price.’” He sighed. “We need to hurry.”

Shakir nodded. “Yes, but Pero’s plan will not work. If he faces Kazemde alone, he will die.” He paused, watching Pero. “Just like he did all those years ago.”

“I guess that would be the ultimate price,” Murphy muttered. He knew that Pero would never let Aria pay that price, and that was something Murphy found himself ever grateful for: that if they walked away from all this, Aria would have finally found someone that valued her far more than she valued herself.

Pero climbed into the co-pilot seat of William’s new tri-motor plane. He’d never flown one with this many engines before, but he’d do anything at this point to get to Aria. William finished loading the plane, tossing some parachutes in behind Shakir and Murphy. “If I can’t land, use these,” he said.

“You mean jump out of the plane?” Murphy asked, astonished.

Will shook his head and rolled his eyes as he joined Pero at the front. “She flies just like what you’re used to. Just a little faster.”

Pero huffed, waiting for Will to begin pre-flight and taxi out to his runway. He glared out the window as he watched the flat landscape blur together. He scanned the desert, willing himself to see her, or maybe even have another vision to catch a glimpse of her face. I’m coming, Aria. Despite the quick trip to the ruins, he knew this would be the longest flight of his life.

***

Aria stood, hands bound next to the British bastard that caused all of this. Kazemde perched at the end of the cobbled street with his eyes closed in silent prayer as he faced the desert. She scowled at both of them, sending daggers Beckett’s way. “You’re prettier when you smile,” he muttered, glancing at her out of the corner of his eyes.

She gritted her teeth. “Last time I checked,” she spat, “I didn’t give a shit.”

Beckett turned to her and grabbed her arms to force her to look at him. “I’m not the enemy here,” he growled. Aria tensed and tried to pull from his grasp, but it only made him hold on to her tighter. “You’ll do well to remember that. Right now, I am your only ally.”

“Ally?” She scoffed. “You left my brother and Pero for dead in that museum.”

His grin turned sadistic. “Tovar had it coming.” Beckett moved closer to her. “I don’t know what you see in the son of a bitch, but if there is a God in Heaven, his skull is bashed in and he is bleeding out on the marbled floor of your precious museum.”

Aria felt the chill of fear run down her spine.

“With any luck, Kazemde will make your death swift,” he continued, “and Tovar, if he survived, will suffer.”

A wall of sand erupted in front of them, and Kazemde beckoned them to join him. With an iron grip on her arm, Beckett pulled her with him. “I don’t know how he does it, but this will get us to Aten in a matter of minutes.”

She froze, resisting his pull. Minutes. Pero would not make it to her in time, and for the first time she doubted that he would follow through on his promise. It had taken them a couple of hours to get out this far away from Cairo for Kazemde to do whatever it was he needed to do, but she was certain it wasn’t enough time for Pero and Murphy to get ahead of them. Kazemde’s cold, boney hands grasped her wrists, pulling her into his side as they stepped into the wall of sand -- their portal to Aten.

***

It had only been a few hours since the museum, but Pero felt like it was a lifetime ago. He tried to close his eyes, imagining the look of bliss on her face when they’d finally had a moment to themselves in her room. He tried to smile at the memory of her beet red cheeks when Murphy barged in. But it was no use. The thoughts only caused more tightness in his chest. He feared that he would never see those looks again. “You know,” Will’s voice called over their headsets, “when this is over, you’re going to owe me more than what we agreed.”

“And I intend to pay it,” Pero snapped, glaring at him.

Will laughed as he checked the gauges. “We’ll talk when this is over.”

“Uh, Tovar?” Murphy’s panicked voice startled Pero. “I don’t think that’s a regular sand storm headed our way.”

Pero turned and looked out the small window on Will’s side. There was indeed a sandstorm headed straight for them, but it dissipated as it crested over the cliffs to the East of them. Three small figures fell from the clouds a few feet, and he knew. He was half tempted to grab a chute and jump from the plane now, but a firm hand on his shoulder held him in place.

“Remember the plan,” Shakir calmly reminded him.

***

Aria kicked Beckett off her as she stood, fixing her top and shaking the sand from her hair. The desert was calm and silent, and as she peered in front of her she saw the ruins of Aten stretched out in front of them. “We’re back,” she whispered to herself, the horror seeping into her veins.

“Just remember that I am your only ally here,” Beckett whispered in her ear.

An icy chill crept down her spine, and she turned to glare at him. The gusto that was fueling her earlier had disappeared. Now that they’d reached Aten, the gravity of her situation sank in. “Please,” she breathed a plea, “don’t do this. You’re just as expendable to him as I am. The second he gets what he wants-”

Beckett smirked. “I have contingencies in place.”

A small buzz permeated the air around them. It wasn’t until she saw the anger flooding Beckett’s face did she turn to face the noise. Warmth spread through her chest at the sight of the plane off in the distance, heading directly for the ancient city. “Pero,” she sighed. Aria knew he’d fight the devil himself to keep his word.

A breeze whipped between them, and she could have sworn she heard his voice carried to her saying, “I’m coming, Amor.”

She closed her eyes briefly, letting the wind curl around her like a warm embrace.  The sand shifted next to her, and she opened her eyes to see Kazemde stepping close to the edge of the dune they stood on. He lifted his hands, erecting a wall of sand in front of them. Her screams were soon drowned out by the violent sandstorm he conjured and sent hurtling towards the plane that held everything she held dear.

***

Pero left his seat, prepping a chute. “Can you land before that new storm reaches us?”

Murphy and Shakir joined him, with the arsenal being strapped to Murphy as they prepared to jump. Suddenly, a force slammed into the side of the plane, throwing them to the floor. Pero rose to his knees, glancing towards the cockpit. They were in the middle of the storm, sand clogging the engines. He growled and moved back to the co-pilot seat to help William. “If we don’t clear this soon, the engines will fail,” William said with a grunt as he pulled up on the yoke, trying to ride the wind. Suddenly, the plane lost altitude. “You guys need to jump.”

“In the middle of this storm? Are you mad?” Murphy asked, crawling his way closer to Pero and William.

“It’s either that or die in a plane crash!”

The plane lost altitude again, and Pero felt his stomach drop that time. He and William both pulled up on the yokes. A gust of wind slammed into the side again, forcing Murphy to hit his head on the window next to him. He reached up and felt the blood streaming down his face before the throbbing pain started. Shakir slid next to him, grabbing the first aid kit from under Pero’s seat. They hit more turbulence, and Pero’s grip slipped on the yoke. Shakir found gauze in the bottom of the kit, crudely wrapping it around Murphy’s head. “If we’re going to jump,” he shouted over the wind howling around them, “then I think now would be the best time. We have to be close to the city by now.”

Gritting his teeth, Pero fought to keep control of his yoke, while Will struggled to do the same. “I can’t just abandon Will.”

“I can land this thing by myself,” William added.

The engine sputtered and stalled. The propeller stopped.

“Go!” William shouted. “I’ll ride the wind. It’ll be a crash landing, but I’ll be fine!”

The plane’s nose dipped.

Pero and Will shared a brief glance. There would be no jumping. It was too late, and now, Pero needed to help him land or kill them all. “Buckle up! Things are about to get bumpy!” Will barked at Shakir and Murphy, who had tossed their arsenal bag behind him. “We need to keep that nose pointed up, otherwise when we land…”

Will didn’t need to finish his thought. They all knew what would happen when they would land. Bits of rock and sand chipped away at the glass, almost as if Kazemde was using it to find a weakness in the plane to cause their cabin to depressurize. The plane began to shake, the yoke almost impossible to pull up. “Fuck,” Pero muttered, as he pulled with all his might.

They slowly began to level, when suddenly the wind stopped and the sand around them fell. The tension against the wings lifted too fast, forcing Pero and Will to overcorrect their positioning. They both scrambled to regain control, when a sand dune appeared in front of them. “Hang on!” Will exclaimed. He and Pero pulled on the yokes again, but it was too late.

The impact forced them to slam forward, the yoke meeting Pero’s chest and the harnesses preventing anyone from flying into the objects in front of them. The nose of the plane crumpled on impact, and sand began pouring in, burying Will and Pero. The force of the crash knocked the air out of Pero’s lungs as he scrambled to unbuckle. He dug for the clasp in between painful breaths as they felt the plane shift and sink. Panic began to rise in him as he realized they’d crashed into quicksand, and the faster the sand shifted the faster they sank. With each breath, he felt the weight of the world crush his chest. No air was getting in, and his vision was starting to blur. This was it for him. He was going to die, leaving Aria to her own devices. Finally, that image of her he’d tried conjuring earlier flooded his memory: she was curled against his chest, sated and happy. He had many regrets in his life, failing her being the worst. But taking that brief moment for themselves, was not one of them. He was determined to let that be the last thing on his mind as he fought tooth and nail to get out of this metal cage he was sure to die in.

***

The storm faded. That’s when Aria saw their plane, smoke trailing behind them, head for what was no doubt a crash landing on the other side of the ruined city. When the sand erupted and smoke billowed into the sky, she knew their fate, and something inside of her painfully ripped -- shredded itself -- into a thousand pieces. Murphy, her brother and best friend, gone, along with Pero. Pero, the only man she was certain she could ever feel this strongly for. Even in the few weeks she’d spent time getting to know him, she knew that whatever they had budding between them was it for her; there would never be another. So, as she watched the black smoke billow into the now clear sky, she knew her chances of escape had vanished. Soon, she would join them in the afterlife. They would never have that chance to rent a hut on the beach, spending however long they needed together, healing from everything Kazemde put them through.

Aria closed her eyes as a few tears trickled down her cheeks. She imagined relaxing in a plush bed with tangled sheets, the windows and doors opened to welcome in the warm, ocean breeze. Pero holds her close as he lightly runs his fingers through her disheveled hair. She looks up into his deep, brown eyes, noting how at ease he is. She’s never seen him at peace. Gently, he cups her face, placing a soft, passionate kiss on her lips that soon turns ravenous as he wraps his arms around her, bringing her body flush with his.

“Here’s to hoping he’s bleeding out, realizing he failed you,” Beckett breathed into her ear, snapping her out of her dream.

Aria opened her eyes, turning to stare at him. Her grief was so strong, she couldn’t even give him her signature glare. “What did he ever do to you that caused you to hate him so?” she asked, her voice cracking.

Beckett smirked. “What does it matter? He’s dead.” He moved around her, forcing her into the crook of his arm and pushing her forward. “And I’m sure he’s rotting in Hell right now.”

She glanced back at the smoke, the tall stack polluting the surrounding air. Aria felt the pain of her loss in her very soul. She didn’t mourn her brother and Pero. Instead, she mourned the life they would never live -- the life they never even had a chance to start.

Taglist

Permanent Taglist

@larakazzer @magneticbucky​​ ​ @wickedfrsgrl​​​ @wander-lustbabe​​ @phoenixpascal​​ ​ @frietiemeloen​​​ @fioccodineveautunnale​​ @mrscrain-x7​ @alldatalost @carringtonhill @enamoured-x​​ @readsalot73​​​@rosiefridayrogersunday​​ @justpedropascal​​ @phoenixhalliwell​​ @weasleytwins-41​​ @crystalized-drumming​​ ​​ @terrorcakes​​ @itsnottilly​​ @athalien​​ @kirsteng42​​ @spideysimpossiblegirl​​ @440mxs-wife​​ @iamskyereads​​ @thirddeadlysin​​ @natashaispunk​​ @sanasnacks​​ @harriedandharassed​​

Pero Tovar Taglist

@hb8301​​ @hnt-escape​​ @stevie754​​ @girlofchaos​​ @luxmundee​​ @rainbeaubrightchild​​ @mostclevermiss​​