#sometimes i wish my brain would give me a moment of peace

[mooreaux]

Y'all I wish it was "no thoughts head empty"- instead I'm "many thoughts head full" bitch I am at capacity

[separatist-apologist]

My Whole Life Is Ruined

Summary: When you hold me, it holds me together, and you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever

Surprise @talons-and-teeth! I'm sorry for the wait- I was not your original secret santa. I pulled this together based on what I know about you and I hope you like it! @acotargiftexchange

Big thanks to @octobers-veryown for making a moodboard with practically no instructions other than one Taylor Swift lyric and the description "Azriel has been hiding the fact he's Gwyn's mate and they have sex about it."

--

Insomnia was nothing new. 

Gwyn couldn’t remember the last time she’d fully slept through the night. The past chased the present, running in circles as she ran after her tail, almost grasping it before she woke covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Sometimes, bathed in nothing but moonlight, Gwyn wondered if there would ever come a time when she didn’t dream of her sister, of a life long gone.

It didn’t rattle her as badly as it used to. Sitting in the bed Nesta had so graciously offered up, Gwyn pushed the blankets from her legs to let the cool, winter air caress her overheated skin. Leaving the library still felt like a picked over wound. She didn’t want to go back, cloistered away from her friends and the life she’d begun to enjoy living. That didn’t mean she wasn’t scared.

Anxiety seemed to thrum beside her heartbeat, a constant presence she could only just shake if she was otherwise occupied. Right then, in the dead of night, Gwyn felt it snake around her until it was wrapped tight around her throat, choking a scream that always seemed so close to escaping.

She didn’t bother changing out of her thin nightdress, certain neither Cassian or Nesta would be up this late. If they were even back—they’d gone to Hewn City that evening for some meeting with a Day Court prince, giving Gwyn full run of the House of Wind. Not that she did anything terribly interesting with all that power—Gwyn got a book and some hot chocolate and spent the night curled in a chair reading until she finally dragged herself into bed.

Maybe she should have trained on the roof first. Really worn herself down so her brain was too exhausted to conjure up memories of the past, all the while whispering of how she might have prevented it, if she’d only been stronger, smarter, cleverer. Forcing her to relive it, to pick it apart to see what could have been different.

That was exhausting, too.

Cold air hit her the moment she pushed open the door, howling a greeting that might have scared someone else off. Gwyn liked the biting cold, the raucous yelling, the silhouette of the mountains looming like shadows in the distance. A half moon poured light over the rooftop, causing sleeping weapons to glint beneath. Maybe, she thought ruefully, she should have put on socks. Hair caught against her lips, and as Gwyn worked to push it out of her face, wishing for a hair tie, too. 

It wasn’t too late and yet she was already here, wasn’t she? Might as well just power through, ignoring her discomfort like she was so accustomed to. The bite of cold was a reminder she’d survived—she was alive. So what if it burned a little? Sometimes Gwyn thought she fought better when she was in pain.

And more often than not, she suspected she deserved to feel it. That the curling peace was a mistake and everyone was going to realize what an imposter she was. They’d tell her she didn’t belong with them and cast her back out. Gwyn was always just waiting for it, a hammer that might fall at any given moment. 

A blade just against her neck, never quite striking.

Gwyn pulled out a dagger, her favored weapon, and held it for a moment in her hand. Nesta was all brute strength, and Emerie terrifying yet easy grace, but Gwyn liked to be the shadow in the dark. The knife at someone's side rather than a screaming sword coming for a person's throat. While Nesta and Emeries radiated the kind of beauty that made men cower, Gwyn liked to think she was sweeter, more unassuming. People looked at Nesta, at Emerie, and were taken by their perfection.

They looked at Gwyn and wondered why she was with them. So Gwyn trained harder, made herself someone that couldn’t be ignored. Not forever, anyway. She was good at hiding, besides, taking to trees, blending into the background so often that on more than one occasion, Cassian and Nesta didn’t realize Gwyn was in the room until she cleared her throat. 

Unbalanced, Gwyn took a second dagger and for a moment, was the wind itself. Recalling the movements Azriel had been teaching her, Gwyn stepped like a dance, twisting her body and slashing her blades against invisible foes.

A real ones, too. A shadow moved from the edge of the ring, catching her by surprise. Gwyn darted, and just as Azriel had taught her, grabbed them, slamming their body to the ground. It was thunder the way that massive, familiar form crashed against the world, a mighty god dragged from the heavens themselves.

Azriel groaned, eyes closed even as his hands grabbed her waist, holding her knee painfully against his ribs. “That was good,” he gasped, fingers curling into her skin. 

“I’m so sorry,” she replied, dropping the blade she’d pressed to his throat. A thin line of blood snaked over golden, tattooed skin, staining the rather lovely black jacket he was wearing. Why was he up here, she wondered? Shouldn’t he be enjoying himself with his friends and family? 

Azriel swallowed hard, opening hazel eyes that cut through the otherwise oppressive dark to look at her.

“I’m not.”

And then he released her, letting her scramble backwards, heart thumping in her chest. Azriel didn’t move, wings spread wide around against the ground. He looked like a fallen angel and Gwyn was awed at the sight, the realization that it had been her who’d felled him. He was looking right back at her, his expression clouded by shadow. Was he angry? He said he wasn’t, but surely he didn’t appreciate being assaulted in his own home. 

Not that she saw much of him since she’d moved in. Azriel, who maintained a bedroom in the House of Wind, was suddenly gone and when Gwyn was really down, she sometimes thought it was because he didn’t like being around her. Here he was, though, clambering to his feet, his eyes sliding down her body. She could feel the heat of them like he was touching her skin and was grateful for a sudden burst of wind hitting her like a bucket of ice water.

Careful, she warned herself. 

It was hard, though. Anyone with eyes could see how beautiful Azriel was. She wasn’t stupid. It didn’t hurt that in her worst moment, Azriel’s had been the very first she’d seen. A savior—a dark angel, come to wreak bloody vengeance on her sister's behalf. It had been Morrigan who’d taken her away to safety, but when Gwyn thought about how she’d escaped, she always remembered Azriel’s curved, lethal blade, sliding cleanly through the bodies of the same males who had killed her sister.

She’d always been grateful to him for it, even if she’d never tell him. He’d never once looked at her like he remembered, had never betrayed an ounce of pity. She’d expected him to say something back when he’d first joined their training, wary and distant. And maybe he knew, because he kept his distance until it was safe, had held himself at an arm's length and let her decide how much or little of him she wanted. 

The problem was Azriel himself. Outside of being the most beautiful man he’d ever seen, he was just nice. Not in the way Cassian was, with big smiles and silly jokes, but with serious eyes and a dagger in hand, forcing her to move again and again and again. Your steps are off, Gwyn—you’ll get yourself killed that way. Eyes on your opponent, don’t look away. Hold your breath, don’t let them know you’re there.

Because he knew it mattered to her. That she wouldn’t be caught off guard ever again, that Gwyn would never let someone hurt her. Often, she wondered if he didn’t understand that pain, if it didn’t mirror some tragedy of his own. They didn’t talk about it—they didn’t need to. It was an understanding between them, something so intimate she would never share it with another living soul.

She kept waiting for Azriel to step back, to tell her she’d done enough, that she should finish with Cassian. He never did. Even when he was gone, Gwyn practiced knowing he’d want to see the progress she’d made while he was gone. And when he returned, he’d wait on the roof even when she’d flippantly told him it would be easier to just send word via letter.

I don’t mind waiting.

Those words still felt so charged to her. Like he was trying to say something else, eyes glittering and bright like the stars overheard. Gwyn pulled herself from her thoughts to look up at Azriel looming overhead, his wings flared around him as if he was trying to make himself seem larger. It was working—he was massive, muscular and tall and just like before, half fallen angel, half terrifying god come to earth so he might reign. 

“You look cold,” Azriel commented, caught looking at her. 

Gwyn put her hands on her hips. So what if he was? “I’m not.”

“Bullshit.”

Smothering a smile, Gwyn asked with faux outrage, “Are you calling me a liar?”

She swore the corners of his lips twitched. “To your face, even.”

“The cold doesn’t bother me,” Gwyn said, shifting from one leg to another, a gesture he seemed to register with sharp-eyed interest. Proof, she realized as his fingers began making quick work of his jacket. “No, that’s not—”

“Suck it up,” was Azriel’s dark voiced response, draping the warm jacket against her shoulders, leaving himself only in a black shirt stretched over his muscular torso. His eyes slid back down to her legs, lips flattening as he realized she was without shoes, too. “You’ll catch your death out here.”

Gwyn could smell the heady, masculine scent of him coming from the fabric, her arms far too small for the large holes. Still, she didn’t protest, turning to look toward the outline of the mountains instead.

“Maybe. But what a way to go.”

“It’s hardly heroic to die from the cold,” Azriel murmured, turning to follow her gaze. Did he know what she was thinking? How they had nearly died in the blood rite, thrown in wearing only a thin night dress against well-armed warriors? She wondered if Azriel would have found that heroic, even if it had been the cold that had gotten them.

Gwyn blew out a breath, the steam of air curling between them as one of his shadows darted out, illuminated by starlight. It wasn’t the first time and she wondered if they thought she, too, had a shadow for them to interact with.

Or if it meant something else.

Something more.

“Inside,” Azriel finally said, a gust of wind ruffling his night dark hair.

“You’re fussy tonight,” she grumbled, not protesting when his fingers pressed against the small of her back, pushing her toward the door. Heat pulsated from the touch, settling low in her stomach. “Did something happen?”

Azriel pulled open the door with his free hand, his touch never quite leaving. “No. Hewn City is unchanging.”

She glanced up at him, the light softening the harsh lines of his face. “Is that a good thing?”

“It’s predictable.”

“I want to see it,” Gwyn declared, though in truth she wasn’t entirely sure that was true. Still, the corners of Azriel’s mouth twitched a bit, as if the whole thing amused him. 

“You would devour them,” was his easy, good-natured response. “To their endless delight.”

“And yet I’ve been snubbed yet again,” she teased, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “Do I file my complaint with you…or…?”

“You were spared the grating presence of Vanserra,” Azriel said, cocking his head with a half smile. “But I will pass along your discontent to the High Lord.”

“Be sure that you do,” Gwyn replied, grinning by the time Azriel deposited her into a chair in the study. He didn’t go far, sitting on the arm, his wings draped behind them. She could see the flexing muscle of his thigh beneath his well-tailored pants. If she’d wanted, she could have touched him.

It was obscene how badly she wanted to. How she had to clench her fingers to fists to keep from reaching out, well aware that Azriel would withdraw entirely and, perhaps, never speak to her again. He’d been nothing if not unfailingly polite, besides…though…he had been looking at her in the clingy, short nightdress, hadn’t he? 

Just because you were cold, her mind reminded her. After all, she was still wearing his jacket. Gwyn shrugged out of it, heat blooming over her cheeks as she shoved it into his lap. There. She’d gotten to touch him without him knowing and give him back his jacket before she convinced herself to keep it.

And possibly sleep in it.

Azriel arched a dark brow, hazel eyes staring at the rumpled fabric now balled in his lap. “What did the jacket do to offend you?” he asked, taking it in broad, callused hands. He’d removed his siphons, leaving the scarred skin wholly on display. She wondered what had happened to him—and why. 

If he’d ever gotten his revenge for it.

“It’s yours—that’s enough,” she replied flippantly. Holding her gaze, Azriel picked up the jacket and brought it to his nose. Time seemed to stop, frozen entirely as she watched him do this.

And he watched her, daring her to say something. She opened her mouth, gaping, only to close it.

And Azriel smiled. Broad and unrestrained, as if he were so delighted he couldn’t help himself. Tilting his head toward the roof, he murmured, “House—some tea, if you don’t mind.”

Of course the house didn’t mind. Two cups of steaming tea rattled on the coffee table before them, complete with sugar and honey, if either of them wanted it.

Gwyn didn’t think she could pick up a cup without betraying the rattle of her hands. Why? Azriel had discarded the jacket casually, tossing it to another chair like it was uninteresting to him. And was he closer, now? His thigh was, she was certain, but had his arm always been behind her. If she moved a few inches, he could have slid into the seat to join her.

He could pull you into his lap if he wanted. 

Which, of course, he didn’t

Didn’t he?

“Why are you here?” she asked, hating that breathless quality of her voice. Azriel heard it, too, head snapping to the side, nose flared as though searching for something she couldn’t place. 

“I like to be near you,” he replied. He could have thrown her across the room and surprised her less. Once again, Gwyn opened her mouth only for no sound to leave her throat. 

“You—you’re never here,” she finally managed. Azriel leaned forward, the faelights gilding the dark ink of his tattoos scrawled over his biceps. He took one of the cups and handed it to her, fingers brushing her own.

“I can’t stand being around you,” was his maddening, level response. 

Gwyn’s stomach sank. “What?”

She couldn’t drink—not when such a strange admission hung between them. Azriel, so unused to verbosity, was now forced to explain himself. It occurred to her just as he turned fully to look at her, some of the color drained from his otherwise beautiful face, that perhaps he wanted this confrontation. She didn’t, though, and wished she could have told him so. Things were fine between them—distant, maybe, and filled with a lopsided yearning on her end, but that was better than whatever he was about to do.

Gwyn had the distinct feeling Azriel was about to crush her. Emotionally ruin her. Destroy her so recklessly there would be no coming back.

“You still don’t feel it?” he asked instead, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “After all this time?”

A new fear speared through her gut. There was only one thing Azriel could possibly feel—and one thing she could possibly not. Gwyn had to set the shaking cup of tea down before bolting from her chair, arms wrapped around her chest. 

“You don’t feel anything,” she declared, deciding if she felt nothing, neither did Azriel. 

Pain lanced across his expression, replaced by grim determination. As he stood, Gwyn knew Azriel wasn’t going to let it go until they both felt exactly as he did—until she felt the mating bond. 

Gwyn shook her head, backing away as he advanced. “Don’t do this, Azriel—”

“Is it that terrible, then?” he asked her, his low words filled with a familiar emotion. One she recognized all too well—the loathing, the self-hatred, the expectation that of course she would reject him. 

“It’s—” Gwyn couldn’t breathe for the closeness of him, for the wanting to touch him. And maybe she did feel it, in her way. Had felt it the moment he’d strode into that cursed, wrecked room looking like the god of vengeance. She’d merely been too hurt to know it, too broken, too emotionally devastated. He should have frightened her and he never had.

Even then, towering over her with his muscular frame, Gwyn didn’t flinch away. She merely met his gaze with blazing defiance.

“You’re wrong,” she told him, keeping her voice light as she pushed at his chest so she could slip around him. “Or mistaken. There is no bond and I’m certain if you saw a healer, they’d—” Azriel grabbed her wrist, spinning her so her back was pressed to the floral papered wall behind her. Dipping his head, Azriel ran his nose the length of her neck.

“You’re no mistake, Gwyn.”

“I am,” she whispered without meaning to. Azriel could do so much better. Surely…surely he wanted better. What had that been like for him, she wondered, and before she could stop herself, she added, “When did you feel it?”

Something primal flared in those bright eyes of his. “Dinner with Nesta and Cassian. You touched my hand and I…” Holding up the offending hand, Azriel flexed his fingers in memory. “I felt the snap.”

That had been almost a year. It had been the last time Azriel had dinner with all of them, and right after she’d formally moved into the House of Wind. Gwyn still remembered that night—Azriel had bolted before dessert, murmuring something about needed to talk to Rhys. Gwyn had thought nothing of it—might never have thought about it again had he not pinned her against a wall to declare that had been the moment he’d felt a mating bond snap. 

“We’ve been training together for months,” she replied with no small amount of outrage. He’d been keeping this secret for that long? 

“I thought you’d feel it,” Azriel all but growled, eyes bouncing over her face. “And when you didn’t…”

“Rhys knows?”

“And Cassian—”

“So Nesta, too?!”

Gwyn shoved him again, harder this time. Azriel let her, she suspected, stepping back so she could have some breathing space. “They all know but I don’t.”

“And you’re taking the knowledge so well,” Azriel replied with a bite of sarcasm.

She whirled, wishing she had a dagger in hand even has the dried blood from his healed wound still taunted her. “I think I deserved to know before Cassian.”

“I needed his help,” Azriel admitted, running a hand over his mouth. “I needed to know how he managed it.”

“How difficult could it be,” she asked flippantly, intending to leave him there so she could think. Foolish to turn her back on a predator. Azriel had her again, wrapped in one strong arm, the other holding her jaw so she had to look at him.

“Hell,” he rasped, his anguish plain. “Every minute of it has been hell.” 

In Gwyn’s defense, she managed one, final, protest. “It’s just—”

His mouth covered hers before she could finish that statement, could say what they both knew she’d been thinking. As if he found the words so abhorrent he wouldn’t hear them, would swallow them until he’d snuffed them from their very existence.

Gwyn forgot what she’d been about to say at all. She’d thought about what it might be like to kiss him. If his mouth would be soft or rough, if he kissed like he fought or if there was passion bubbling beneath his icy exterior. She hadn’t been prepared for what it would feel like or how desire would overtake her so thoroughly she didn’t care about anything else. Were those her hands cupping his neck? Her lips hungrily kissing him back like a crazed, desperate creature?

Her tongue meeting his own, her legs moving until he had her back against the wall so he could press the length of his body against hers? 

There was only one thought in her name, an echo repeated over and over. Mate. Mate. Mate. 

Maybe he should have just kissed her at that dinner. Skipped the yearning, the anguish, the uncertainty. At least they would have been kissing, anyway. Gwyn forgot herself entirely, nails digging against his shoulder until Azriel helpfully hoisted her into the air so she could wrap her legs around his waist.

“Don’t talk about my mate like that,” he panted, dragging his teeth against her neck. “I love her.”

Gwyn whimpered. What did she say to that? As it turned out—nothing. Azriel kissed her again, sparing them both whatever incoherent nonsense might have tumbled from her lips. She might have sworn she loved him too, if only to convince him to keep kissing her like he was.

Gwyn was certain Azriel’s kiss had ruined her life. How was she supposed to go back to things as they were before? It wasn't knowing that he was her mate, but knowing the way his hands felt cupped against her face and the way wildfire sparked in her blood when his tongue slid into her mouth? 

The worst of it was when his hands left her ass, letting her slide down the hard slab of his body before she was ready. He pulled away, lips swollen and eyes wild, to take a healthy step away from her, though it seemed to take an immense amount of effort. For her part, she kept herself pressed to the wall, unsure what was happening.

“You know now,” Azriel managed, his voice hoarse, “and that’s…that’s all I wanted. I ah…I should go before—”

“You’re leaving?” she asked, strangely hurt by this new rejection. Gwyn knew all about mating bonds. What fae didn’t? Before she’d come here, she’d once dreamt of her own mate, giggling with her sister in their bunks as they imagined what that person might be like. If they existed at all, given the rarity of such a thing. It was almost funny that he’d been right here all along, close enough she could literally touch. 

And he was going to leave? He didn’t want to accept it? Did she? It was all happening so fast but of course you didn’t reject a mate. She could see the wariness on his face, could watch in real time as he pulled up his defenses as she realized that yes. That was exactly his expectation.

Why? She knew from Nesta’s stories that Azriel was well sought after. And she wasn’t blind. What female didn’t dream of a male with his bone structure? He was powerful and close to the High Lord, and beyond all that, Azriel was kind. A genuinely good person, the sort of male one could spend centuries with if they wanted.

What could she even offer him? Gwyn’s thoughts raced, listing all the reasons he ought to have stopped, why keeping this a secret made so much sense. She didn’t notice Azriel creeping closer and closer until his fingers were under her chin, lifting her face so she had to look at him. 

“You’re doing it again,” he murmured, his voice dark and dangerous. “Thinking unkind thoughts about my mate.”

“You can’t tell me what to think,” she shot back, her own voice trembling a little. He was so certain, so unbothered and in her entire life, had anyone ever immediately felt that way about her?

Nesta and Emerie. Catrin. 

Azriel.

“You have it all wrong,” Azriel murmured and she wondered if perhaps he could read her mind. “It is you who could do so much better.”

His words drew a gust of laughter from her lips. The mother had certainly chosen well, putting the two of them together. What a pair—she wondered who would relent first? Her, or Azriel? Who would believe they deserved a mating bond first? It occurred to Gwyn, as she reached for his arm to pull him closer, that she was a shade too competitive—she wanted it to be him who broke first. Who relented first, who believed he was worthy, was deserving. 

And she could see, from that golden glint burning in his own gaze, that he was thinking the exact same thing. 

“You’re stupid,” she whispered, surging up on her tiptoes to kiss him again. She could taste the smile spreading over his face, sweet against the warm heat of his mouth. It took her an embarrassing amount of time to realize he wasn’t smiling because she’d told him to stop talking, but because she was kissing him. Gwyn hadn’t even considered not kissing.

He was her mate, after all. He was hers. She felt that the way she felt her own heart, the possession, the desire, the heat. She didn’t feel the cord the way everyone spoke of, but perhaps that was mere metaphor. After all, Gwyn believed Azriel wouldn’t lie to her about something so life altering.

Besides. She liked kissing him, new as it was. Azriel was unhurried and thorough, just like every other task she’d ever seen him undertake. And for the first time in a long time, she wondered what it would be like if he paid her that sort of attention in the bedroom. They stood there like that, his arm keeping her on her toes, steady against his warm, solid body. Momentarily, Gwyn wondered what might happen if Nesta and Cassian were to come in and decided she didn’t care.

How many times had she walked in on them in far more compromising positions, besides? 

Tiny steps had Gwyn flush against the wood wall, pressed against Azriel’s hard body and oh. He wanted her. Wanted her in a way that emptied her mind of all other thought beyond the desire to touch him.

And she was allowed, she realized with giddiness. He belonged to her. It was a possessive thought that overrode everything else, including all her good sense. He was hers.

“Mine,” she whispered into his mouth, not meaning to. Azriel groaned, tangling a hand in her hair to tilt back her head, his tongue delving back between her teeth to really taste her. Without the leathers he usually wore, it was surprisingly easy to find the golden buttons on his jacket, undoing them before Azriel’s own brain seemed to catch up with what was happening.

His wings flared, enveloping around them for a moment as he pulled back, his breathing heavy.

“Cassian will be home soon,” he whispered, holding her close against him as if he expected his friend to take her away. “Nesta too.” “You have a bedroom here, right?” Gwyn said with more daring than she felt. Azriel’s once half-lidded eyes flew open, those hazel eyes searching her own. 

“I do,” he whispered, swallowing audibly. “There’s no rush—”

“Please?”

One moment she’d been standing there, her hand flat against the white, linen shirt Azriel wore beneath his jacket and the next her feet were in the air, her body cradled against him as he walked.

“I can’t think when you’re around,” Azriel was saying, his steps echoing against the wood. “Can’t think just looking at you. Sometimes I think I’ll wake up and this will have all been a dream.”

“It’s real,” she replied, pressing her lips to his neck. “I’m real. We’re real.”

He shuddered, all but running up a flight of stairs. There was no reaction when his wing clipped a door frame nor did he say a word when he had to use his nice shoe to slam his bedroom door shut. Gwyn wasn’t given the opportunity to really look around his space, either—though it seemed sparse and filled with dark, moody colors. 

Azriel had her on the bed, his own body over top her own before she could exhale the breath she’d just taken. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said, the maddening male. She would have told him she didn’t want him to, but he was kissing her again, his burning lips all but bruising her own. Drawing a leg up, Gwyn could line up their otherwise mismatched bodies so he was pressed exactly where she wanted him. 

They were going to do this. She wanted to do this. When she managed to take a breath, the taste of blood faint against her tongue, she rasped, “Take this off.”

Azriel was on his knees in a moment, shucking off his jacket before all but ripping off his shirt, too. There in the dark with nothing but silvery moonlight to illuminate him, Gwyn was allowed to really look at him. 

He didn’t move, a lock of dark hair half obscuring the intensity of his gaze. “All of it,” she decided before she lost her nerve. 

Azriel cocked his head, his lips pursed as though he’d tell her no.

“Please,” she added.

Azriel groaned again, softer this time. Somewhere in the house, a door slammed closed and a mingling of male and female voices rose like music, a soothing hum in the background as Azriel slid off the bed entirely.

Wings tucked tightly against his toned back, he quietly locked his door before turning back to her. “We don’t have to,” he said, his fingers hovering over the laces of his pants. Gwyn had a suspicion Azriel would spend the next century saying this and she’d spend the next century  reassuring him that she wanted all of it. All of him.

Maybe he’d realize in the morning when she snuck into the kitchen and begged the house for his favorite meal. She had no idea what it was, but surely the magic that governed this place did? Would he eat it from her hands? Or would he balk, certain this was just another dream?

“I know,” she said, leaning up on her elbows. “Take it all off, anyway.”

Gwyn knew what Azriel was wondering but her past was murky—forgotten in the dark, the ugly replaced with his easy, unassuming beauty. Still, she held her breath as he undressed entirely, drinking in the sight of him. This was the male she’d knocked to the ground, the very same that could kill another person without a second thought.

Underneath the thick, armored leathers and weapons lay just a male made of skin and bone. Gwyn’s eyes traced the tattoos adorning his shoulders and chest, the intricate swirls snaking up his neck and vanishing behind his back. Every inch of him was muscled, softer now that he was relaxed and still present just below the warm brown of his flesh.

And between his legs…

Gwyn giggled. She couldn’t help herself. It was so big—surely they weren’t supposed to be that large? That thick? There was an air of male pride shimmering around him, his legs spread a little wider as if to say, drink it all in. 

“Are you laughing at me?” he asked, his voice a dark, teasing growl. Prowling forward, Gwyn’s heart spiked loud enough he must have heard.

“I wasn’t prepared for…” For what? For him? Azriel was so quiet, so unassuming…she just assumed if he had all that going on he’d brag a little more? Swagger about the way Cassian always was? 

“I’d be a poor mate if I left you wanting,” he replied, his eyes glazed over once his knees hit the edge of the bed. Perhaps it was the sight of her, still dressed, scrambling on her hands and knees so she could crawl toward him. She just wanted to touch, to feel if his cock was as hard as it looked. 

Azriel sucked in a breath when her fingers curled around the base of his shaft, just barely touching. Looking up, she murmured, “Is this what you like?”

“I like you,” he replied, scooping up her hair in his hands as Gwyn stroked him experimentally. He choked out a sound, his heartbeat thudding in her ears. She supposed that was her answer—he liked the way she touched him.

Pride filled her chest knowing she could please her mate, even with something as simple as touching him. Gwyn stroked again, letting her wrist twist at the end as her eyes refused to leave his face.

“Gods,” he whispered, his wings tightening against his back. “I’ve imagined…Gwyn…”

She was allowed a third pass before he pushed her back, her clothes pulled off her body so quickly all she managed was to lift her hips and raise her arms. 

“Do you know how many nights I’ve laid in this exact bed and imagined you just like this?” Azriel began, his voice a dark, sultry whisper. “Splayed out…naked…undone?”

“No,” she squeaked out in response, half embarrassed to be undressed before him. Azriel’s gaze burned against her skin, warming a path from her collarbone to her thighs. 

“Would you like to know what I dream about at night?” he questioned, sinking to his knees so he was eye level with the edge of the bed. 

Arousal ribboned through her, making a fool out of her. “Yes,” she replied, strangely excited to be the object of this man’s fantasies. 

Strong, scarred fingers curled around her thighs, pushing them wider before hooking them over his shoulders. He was staring at her cunt, now, studying her like she was some priceless piece of art. 

“I dream of tasting you,” Azriel breathed, the warmth of his breath fanning against her. Gwyn squirmed when he kissed her inner thigh—the left, and then the right—before using his tongue to lightly take that first taste he’d been dreaming of. Gwyn might have asked him how he liked it had it not felt so good. 

Besides, she knew he liked it—Azriel groaned loudly, spreading her apart wider with his fingers so he could taste her everywhere. Gone was his slow exploration, his desire to take his time. All of it had been replaced with the animal kneeling between her legs, licking and touching her cunt like his life depended on it. 

All traces of her embarrassment evaporated, leaving only instinct behind. Gwyn surrendered to the urge, letting desire wash over her until it was all she knew. “Don’t stop,” she breathed, well aware he probably couldn’t. 

Azriel pushed a finger into her gently, moaning at whatever he felt. Gwyn hadn’t considered what it would feel like to share space with him—to feel him inside her own body but now…

“Az,” she panted, her hips rolling against his mouth and hand. She wanted him to stop licking, to replace his fingers with his cock. Heat was building in her chest beyond simple arousal, heavy like a chain. 

Unbreakable.

A bond. A real thread she could follow straight to the male between her legs. It reverberated and then snapped just as Azriel sucked her clit into his mouth, eliciting a scream that was half his name. Could he feel it too? No—his had snapped months ago and he’d just been living with it.

Gwyn couldn’t see how. If she didn’t have him right that second she might go insane. Reaching for his powerful biceps, Gwyn tried to pull him off her but the waves of pleasure made her hands shake. 

“Az,” she tried again, his name a breathy moan against her lips. Her hips moved of their own accord, grinding against him in what must have seemed like encouragement to keep going. Maybe it was—she didn’t try very hard to get him off her.

Azriel managed a third finger, a whine slipping from his throat at the effort. Gwyn just barely registered any of it, her body jerking a second time from pleasure so bright and heady she could have died from it. It was too much—Gwyn was burning, was in free-fall with no one to catch her.

Digging her nails into his skin, she yanked at him. Azriel emerged, lips wet and eyes wild. “Please,” she heard herself saying, the magic words that, apparently, could convince him to do anything she wanted. “I need you.”

His fingers were wet as they skimmed the side of her body, palm grasping her breast before his lips found hers. He tasted sweet and she supposed it was herself, truly, she was tasting on his tongue. He was hurried, his desperation making him sloppy. When his teeth clashed with her own, nipping the sensitive skin of her bottom lip, Gwyn had enough.

“Az—”

“Don’t beg me,” he breathed, pressing his forehead against her own. Caressing her cheek, Azriel added, “I’ll do whatever you want. You don’t have to beg.”

“I feel it,” she replied, running her hand up and down his spine. “It’s a real thread.”

Azriel exhaled with relief, a smile ghosting his pretty face. Whispering something that sounded like gratitude toward the gods, he adjusted his body until she felt the blunt head of his cock pressed against her. How had he stood it? The waiting, the wanting, the utter need that Gwyn was all but drowning in. If they didn’t do this, she thought she might die from it. 

“You’ll tell me if I hurt you.” It wasn’t a request, though Gwyn had no intention of telling him anything. She expected a little pain, expected little pleasure. Why else had he used his mouth first? 

Gwyn had read enough books to know that there was blood and pain and so when Azriel slid himself an inch into her, she braced herself against him, her nails digging into his biceps. She could feel his eyes on her, searching for even a hint of discomfort. There was something reassuring about knowing he’d stop if she wanted. That he cared if she enjoyed herself. 

Gwyn didn’t need a book to know not all males cared about such things.

Azriel took his time—like he knew he had eons of it, that he didn’t have to rush. Gwyn loved him for it, eyes burning with unshed tears at the thought. She’d tell him all this later, when they’d had a chance to breathe and eat and really talk about everything that had otherwise been left unsaid. Instead she dragged her lips down his neck and focused on the feeling of his cock in her body, pushing further and further without any of the accompanying pain she’d expected.

She was slick enough that he felt less like an intrusion and more like a welcomed guest, and once he’d seated himself entirely, it seemed as though they’d been made like two puzzle pieces destined to fit. 

It took a moment to get used to the stretch, to breathe despite the feeling of fullness. Azriel gave it to her instinctively, as if he knew exactly what she both wanted and needed. There was that same sense of I have all the time in the world, despite her knowing he was desperate. A bead of sweat slid from his temple, rolling down his neck and his arms shook from restraint.

He didn’t move. 

Not until her mouth made its way to his collarbone and she whispered, “Give me more.” He groaned loud enough to shatter the silence, pulling himself out with a slowness that bordered on madness. 

“You’re so wet,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck. “I’m losing my mind.”

She couldn’t help the exhaled smile, raking her fingers through his hair. “Did you dream of this, too?”

“No,” he admitted with a grunt, sliding his cock back into her body. “I didn’t dare.”

“Why?”

“Couldn’t,” he managed, thrusting again with a little more intensity. “Would have gone crazy from wanting you. Surprised you couldn’t smell it on me.”

As if she would have known what she was smelling. There was no point in telling him so—not as Azriel confessed the depths of his devotion, the lengths he’d gone to give her time, space, and whatever else she’d wanted. Would he have continued to do so forever? 

Gwyn kissed his cheek. “I want you. I want this.”

He groaned again, sliding his hand between their otherwise flushed bodies to rub at her still swollen clit. She’d been half distracted by his words to pay attention to her body but right then, when his thumb began making tight circles, Gwyn was pulled back under the depths of shadowed darkness, half consumed by the male laying on top of her. 

Their mouths met, messy and unrestrained. Strange how kissing merely heightened the pleasure coiling through her—Gwyn wouldn’t have guessed that. In her books, everything was so neat and clinical. They kissed, they touched, they fucked with nothing in between. In real life, sex was messier, more fluid. Or maybe she and Azriel merely had more passion than the people in her stories.

Those love stories had once brought her such joy. Now they seemed dimmed in comparison to what was happening to her and her own feelings. 

“I need to feel you come,” he whispered, betraying how close he must have been. Gwyn felt the same way. She needed to feel him, needed to see him wholly unraveled. All because of her—no one else was allowed to know what he sounded like, what he looked like. They got control, they got the ice but she got the heat, the impulsivity—everything he was, everything he’d ever been. 

Gwyn came to the thought of that future, tightening around him as her back arched her into his chest, offering very little give. Azriel kissed her, swallowing the sound of her moans greedily. They belonged to him, anyway. 

He came mere seconds later, his own noise of pleasure delightfully loud for a male that was so often silent. Gwyn kept herself wrapped tight around him, arms winding against his neck, her teeth sinking into his shoulder. His pumping was erratic, uncontrolled and a little desperate. Gwyn was obsessed with this side of him—wanted more of it.

Azriel didn’t withdraw when he was done, his heart thudding against her breast. “It’s not enough, is it?” she whispered, thinking they both ought to feel sated. She didn’t. In her books, the heroine was always spent, the hero falling asleep not long after. The pair would wake in each other's arms, content and glowing from the night before.

Gwyn wanted to shove him to the floor and climb atop him. Wanted to hear him beg, too—wanted more of the whimpering, the groaning and everything in between.

“It was never going to be,” he panted, kissing her softly. 

“How long will it last?” she wondered, brushing a damp lock of hair from his face.

“Eternity, I imagine,” he replied, his eyes burning with that same unflinching intensity. “For me, at least.”

Gwyn’s heart exploded, racing in her throat. “Are you hungry?” she whispered, deciding she couldn’t wait for the morning. She wanted to do this right now. Wanted him to know that this meant something to her, even if she was scared, too. 

Azriel went still. “There’s no rush—”

“That’s yes or no, Azriel.”

A smile broke over his face. “Starving,” he admitted in that dark, sultry voice. 

“You have to get up,” she reminded him, pushing half-heartedly at his shoulder. Azriel lowered his mouth for another kiss.

“In a minute.”

Strange how a minute could stretch.

Into lifetimes, even.

[wonderlandwalker]

Should've Known | Finnick Odair x Reader

THG Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Life brought you and Finnick blissful peace, at least for a little while. (this is a part 2 of He Knows Better but can be read on its own as well)

Content Warnings/Tags: Big time angst, no happy ending this time, mentions of forced prostitution, bruises, did I say angst yet, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: A big thanks to @libertyybellls for giving me the idea of a second part. This is not proofread because I do not have the attention span. It's short but I poured part of my own soul into this so it better not flop.

Everything had been exactly as he could have wished it to be. He had let you in. He hadn't regretted it one moment. You would dance together in the kitchen to the music coming from the radio. He would dip you and kiss you, and you'd laugh at how theatrical he was being, but you'd kiss him back with just as much passion. You'd go to bed, and he would whisper sweet nothings in your ear until you fell asleep. But time moves, and it comes with brutal lessons that he wished he could ignore.

Because he sees the marks on your skin, he sees the bruises they left. At first you used to tell him you were just clumsy, bumped your hip into the cupboard, you'd laugh it off. But he knew better. He knew because this is not new to him, because he has first hand experience.

He will see it when you reach up to grab a mug or as you lay down next to him and your clothes shift. He thinks of something to say. He thinks of ways to console you, and yet whenever the opportunity is there he watches it go by, too scared of your reaction. Everytime he feels the urge to grab you tighter, but he doesn't want to risk you pulling away, because it would break him.

You used to tell him everything, you would tell him about the cats you saw on your walk around the district and you would talk about the new tea you liked that you just had to go show Mags. But yet again, time is a cruel master, because you've been more quiet lately, more reserved. You don't light up anymore when he asks how your day was.

At times he's scared he'll forget what you sound like. Because your voice is such a sweet melody to him, but even the sweetest of things can wither away like a flower that's been looked at too long.

And he guesses everyone deals with it in their own way, but he wished it had been a different one. Finnick plastered on a smile to keep going, he convinced everyone there was nothing going on for so long he tricked his brain into believing it too. But that's not what you're doing. And he's grateful you don't feel the need to pretend around him, truly, he is. But it doesn't mean he doesn't miss the manner in which you used to hum while pouring coffee or the way you would skip down the steps of the stairs when hearing him open the front door.

You still go out, but it's not by your own choice. You know that if you don't show up to the Capitols event and convince everyone nothing has changed, everything will just get worse. So you go, you go and for a few hours you're your old self again, even if it's only pretend. And he hates himself for how much he enjoys it, because it's not really you, not anymore.

In a way the bruises are a blessing, because every time you get one, Snow will leave you be for a while until it's turned back to yellow and the only way to see it is to pay close attention. But finnick pays close attention, and they're never fully gone. Snow doesn't want people getting the wrong idea, so he makes sure you look untouched. But these people are paying customers after all, so he doesn't interject at whatever their heart desires. It is just a week or two, but the worse the marks are, the longer you get, and the more time you have to crawl out from within yourself. If its been particularly bad you seem happy now, you seem happy at the prospect of peace. And sometimes, just sometimes, he sees you swaying along again to the music while you make breakfast.

Yes, you've found comfort in the pain, but you've found agony in its disappearance.

When you're both home, you still curl up next to him, and he longs for it all day. He craves the way your body feels against his and the way you fit into him like a puzzle piece that's finally been put in the right spot. He hates mornings now, because it means he has to lose that feeling and wait an entire day to get it back again. He can't sleep when you're not there, he feels like he's missing a part of himself, like someone has broken him in two and took a piece. When he has to leave you at night, he's not even upset anymore at what's happening to him, no, he's upset that they're keeping him from being with you. Because he not only wants it for himself, he knows you need it too. He knows because he's seen what state you're in whenever he gets back. And he needs that little piece of you you're still willing to give him. Even if it's the only thing you'll ever give him again.

Sometimes he wonders about trailing kisses down your neck. He wonders if anyone has ever shown you actual bliss, but he doubts it. He should be glad, should be ecstatic that he's the only one you actually enjoy being with, but he's just sorry. He's sorry for what is happening to you, he's sorry you're not being shown more kindness. Sometimes he wonders what would happen if he left his own marks, god knows he wants to, but not the rough, careless ones that usually paint your skin. No, he wants to leave marks of love. He wonders if Snow would leave you alone then too, but he doesn't want to risk things becoming worse instead. So he makes peace with the fact that it will only ever be a thought.

He's asked you, he's begged you to simply not go anymore, not listen to what Snow wants. He says he doesn't care what will happen to him, because when he sees you come home with your shoulders sunken and your eyes dulled, he genuinely doesn't. He tells you that yes, he's aware of what Snow will do to him if you don't listen. But nothing he could think of to do to him could be worse than what's happening to you right now. But he should've known better, he should've known you wouldn't listen. To you, Finnick is worth everything. Because that's what you've been doing, giving everything. You've not just given your body, you've given your soul.

[autumn816]

Trick or treat 🎃 :D

I have been wanting to write something in this universe and I finally got to it.

—

Alice · 11-24

let me know if you guys want pt. 2… more

🎵 Contains: Kiss me - @Ed Sheeran

Image 1- Gewis selfie

Text-  Gewis moments that altered my brain chemistry pt. 1

Image 2- The first on-set picture of George and Lewis. They are both sitting on a foldable chair. Lewis is doing a peace sign. George is smiling around his sandwich. 

Text- Lewis being so impressed by George’s acting that he went to talk to Sebastian to give him a bigger role in the show (Seb was already planning to do that because he was also impressed but it’s the thought that counts)

Image 3- A shaky image of George curled around Lewis, his head tucked into Lewis’ neck. Lewis has a big smile on his face and his eyes closed. 

Text- when George won recurring actor in season 1 and Lewis was the first person he hugged. Our first on camera gewis hug!!

Image 4- Comic con. Lewis and George are sitting on wooden chairs on the stage. Lewis is holding his mic close to his mouth and pointing his other hand at George. George looks like he is about to say something as well.

Text- “He would say his hips don’t lie.” I don’t even need to say anything else

Image 5- The same comic con. George is crouching behind a kid and holding his arms. Lewis is looking at them fondly and has his phone in his hand.

Text- Lewis taking pictures of George and the kid

Image 6- Kid George standing on the side with a phone in his hand and a young Lewis talking to someone else

Text- 11 year old George with 24 year old Lewis. He has always been a fan

Image 7- young Lewis is slumped down, his arm wrapped around kid George and his hand is curved around his upper arm. Their faces are close together and both of them are smiling.

Text- <<< previous picture context. When George finally posted the picture he took with Lewis

Image 8- A posed picture of George and Lewis. George has his arm around Lewis’ shoulder while Lewis has his arm around George’s waist, both of them smiling at the camera. 

Text- Lewis saying he hasn’t always been the best actor to work with and yet George always says that Lewis is the benchmark and no one else can compare in the future 

Image 9- A blurry screenshot of George and Lewis on the bed. George is lying under a blanket while Lewis only has the upper half of his body on the bed. Their heads are tilted towards each other. 

Text- when Alex went on live and he was showing around the trailers. He barged into George’s trailer and we got this little gem before Alex started panicking and tried to act like nothing happened

Image 10- George and Lewis are standing close. Lewis’ eyes are on George’s lips and his own tongue is swiping his lower lip through his parted mouth. 

Text- when Lewis couldn’t stop staring at George’s lips during the TV at the season 3 premiere and kept licking his own

Image 11- A candid picture of Lewis and George being in Lewis’ dressing room. Lewis is sitting on a chair, getting some touch ups done. George is leaning back on the mirror wall and grinning while looking at Lewis. 

Text- George admitting that sometimes the line blur between acting and reality when he is with Lewis. That it’s so easy to slip into their roles and it’s so hard to get out of them because they are so comfortable with each other

Image 12- A fan picture of Lewis signing something while Sebastian is standing next to him, his hand clasped on Lewis’ shoulder. 

Text- A fan asking Lewis if he is dating George and Sebastian answering “he wishes.” Seb was crazy for that 

Image 13- Lewis and George are sitting next to each other on the airplane. George is pointing at something on his TV screen while Lewis is looking over.

Text- when Sebastian revealed that Lewis flew earlier than he was supposed to during season 1 promotions because George was nervous for his first ever big public appearance and Lewis wanted to be there for him

—

Halloween ask games

[eternalchiyo]

Everlasting Spark ~MANIAC: Prologue~

A/N: Author's Note on top for once Hi I'm alive and back with the continuation of this storyyy~ It's been a hot minute, because it took me ages to find the energy for editing. As always, the general warnings of my blog apply, but I will also tag the chapters accordingly, please see the "tags in use" for more information. Thanks and have fun!

Masterpost here

The Mukami manor was different from the Sakamaki mansion.

For one, the people there seemed to actually like each other. They enjoyed their meals together and cooked together and they all did their separate chores too. To say that it made Chiyo feel uneasy was an understatement. It was so hard to believe that people could eat their lunch in perfect peace, without hating each other, the only disruption being the occasional whining from Kou that he would rather eat Vongole Bianco than whatever else the meal plan said. A meal plan! These people had a meal plan! And they followed it! Granted, most of the time it consisted of soup, and she really did not like soup that much, but the point was still standing.

Chiyo regretted stepping foot inside as soon as she found out she had to play along with all of that. She had never cleaned anything in her entire life. She also wasn’t talented at cooking, as her cooking sessions with Yui had proven previously. Having to be responsible for a house was such a pain, Chiyo wished she could just go back home to her father, and that had to mean something!

Oh, and there was also the case of Edgar walking among the living now, too. Only that his name wasn’t Edgar anymore; it was Yuma, and he was a Vampire! This had come to be yet another mystery she had to uncover if nobody else felt obligated to. She wondered how Reiji felt about it, how did he sleep at night knowing that what he had planned so meticulously all those years ago failed so miserably? Personally, Chiyo did not sleep that great, but that had been the case for a long time already. The things just kept on piling up like that.

Setting fire to that human village at the border to the demon world and killing Edgar was probably one of his prouder moments in life, being able to take away something so dear to Shuu. Something dearer to Shuu than she had ever been… or would ever be. Thinking back on it she had been a stupid child back then. Not only had she trusted Reiji with his top-secret lunatic plan, but she also had faith in him actually getting the job done, and now look where it got them! Everyone hated each other and Edgar was not even dead! She probably would have had more luck trying to assassinate the boy in his sleep herself, not that she would have ever done it. The thought of killing someone hadn’t exactly manifested itself in her mind before Reiji planted the seed for it in her brain. She hadn’t even been aware of him wanting to burn the village down until she arrived there herself and saw it with her very own eyes. Sometimes she still felt like she could smell the burned human flesh from afar. Needless to say, grilled meat was not exactly her favorite meal from that time on.

She sighed to herself as she attempted to clean some dishes. She had already broken a plate or two and had been scolded by Ruki for it. Luckily everyone agreed not to let her near a cooking pot anytime soon – for safety’s sake. Even with her semi-arsonist background she was not looking to burn a house down that had so many potential clues to the answers she was seeking. Chiyo chewed on her lip; she came here to find more information, not to play house! But Ruki did not cooperate and did not even give her an opening to dig deeper into the situation.

In general, Ruki seemed to have made a 180 in personality. He was extremely strict and demanding, and did not respect her personal space a lot. Just the other day he walked into the bathroom, not even bothering to knock, while she was getting ready for bed. Luckily, she had been mostly done by that time, so all he ended up seeing was her ugly face mask. Not to mention that he kept calling her guineapig without even offering an explanation to the weird nickname. She kept wondering whether his previous attempts at getting closer to her had been fake and only served as a means to an end. But she really had nothing of interest to offer, so either Ruki knew something about her she wasn’t aware of, or he was an idiot who liked to toy with women. At this point both options seemed valid to her. The man was an enigma and no amount of her thinking about him made it any easier to understand him.

She also was not allowed to attend school for the time being. The details were not quite clear to her, but she didn’t particularly care about going to school anyway, so she didn’t question it much. Although it did leave her quite isolated from everyone else, which on further thought was most likely the reason for it. Chiyo wondered how Yui was faring so far… and Shuu, did he miss her? Or was he glad she was finally gone? The last time she ‘spoke’ to him was back in his room, where they had kissed. She sometimes thought back on it, it was definitely better than when they ran into each other in the forest, but it still left her feeling empty and sad for the most part.

“Hey, Kitty, you’ve been rubbing that plate for a long while now, don’t you think?”

Surprised, she turned her head around, to see Kou standing next to her. Another person that did not value personal space. She did not really like the bubbly idol, because while he did bright up the place with his comments and overall personality somewhat, he still was way over the top for her. Not to mention that this shiny dazzling personality was but a persona he would put on for appearances.

“Huh? Oh…” she said, putting the plate down.

Kou let out a grumbling noise. “Seriously, when Ruki-kun brought home a stray I thought it would be more exciting. You’re so dull,” he said and eyed her critically. From the day he saw the inside of her wardrobe, he had been nothing but mean about it.

Chiyo rolled her eyes. What was it with those people always naming her after animals? And what did he mean ‘dull’? She wasn’t here as a circus attraction for him to throw peanuts at.

“In any case, I’d hurry up with this, if you don’t want him to get mad at you. But maybe you should break another plate, it’s kind of irritating that their number is uneven~”

Kou took off again and Chiyo was left alone in the kitchen. She didn’t really feel like she had a place in this house yet and it made her feel uneasy. At least back at the Sakamaki mansion she could walk around comfortably. Here she felt like a criminal for even daring to sit on a sofa, so she would spend most of her time in the room she was given upon her arrival. She liked the plant in it a lot.

She sighed when she finally put the last cup in the cupboard. Housework was dull, but at least she didn’t break anything this time. However, the plates really were at an uneven number and now that it got pointed out to her it started bothering her as well.

“Oh… Lilith… you’re still here…”

Azusa was standing in the doorway, looking a bit on edge. Chiyo would be lying if she said she wasn’t freaked out about most of his antics. She couldn’t be mean to him because he enjoyed it and asked for more. He even tried to get her to cut him with a knife once. What fun was there in bullying a person that wanted to be bullied?

“Lilith… say. Did you… see my knife laying around here… somewhere?”

Azusa for some reason had also taken a liking to calling her Lilith. This was the only hint Chiyo got that told her that these people knew more than they let on. Would she really have to seduce Ruki to find out his secrets? Would that even work? It did make her feel a little bit uneasy. At the same time, it seemed like he was the top guy in this house, calling himself master and inflicting punishment upon people if they failed to do their tasks properly, so if someone had valuable information it would be him. How utterly frustrating.

“I haven’t,” she said shaking her head slowly, focusing on the present situation again.

“If you see it… let me know...?”

“Sure…”

She watched him hurry off down the hallway. Letting out a defeated sigh she decided to exit this room as well. Just as she was about to round the corner in the opposite direction, she bumped into someone.

“Ack! Ruki—”

“Guineapig, do me a favor and do watch your step while walking,” he said. With how much she had messed up the household lately, she could hear it in his voice that he was slowly growing tired of it.

She rubbed her nose which stung a bit from where she bumped into Ruki’s chest. “Sorry…”

They stood there awkwardly for a second. She wasn’t sure how to act around him, ever since the situation on the staircase. No, actually she had never known. Only that now there was also the confusion of her own heart that made it hard for her. Who was Ruki Mukami anyway? He had called himself a snake before, but the snake tempted Eve, not Lilith, that much she gathered from her brief bible discourse. Whenever he looked at her it made her skin crawl, but for some strange reason she felt herself seeking it out more and more. Something was wrong with her for sure.

“I came to see whether you were done with the dishes, but I see that you are,” he said.

“Don’t worry, your plates are fine, I spared them my rough treatment,” she said, trying to sound casual or funny about it.

Ruki apparently did not find that very amusing since he didn’t react to the joke. And she always thought she had no sense of humor. Maybe she didn’t and that’s why he wouldn’t react to her attempt at defusing the tension. Though, Chiyo had not seen Ruki laugh genuinely even as much as once since she started living here, and that was a little bit unsettling. Shuu also wasn’t one to laugh often, but she had witnessed it in the past, at least.

“You broke enough as is, I hope this will not be a common occurrence or I will really have to punish you, until you learn your lesson,” he said.

Chiyo’s face contorted in distaste. He really was all about that master of the house thing. A little bit too intense for her taste. She wondered what a punishment from Ruki would entail, but then decided she’d rather not know. Although she was yet to find the Mukami torture chamber, if they even had one.

“You look like you are thinking up filth… or are you that disappointed you will not be getting a punishment?” he asked, slightly amused.

“W-what? No!” she protested.

Chiyo’s eyes widened in shock and her face felt like it was burning up. Being punished sounded bad enough as it was, and she wasn’t exactly into that type of play… was she? She hated how Ruki made her doubt herself in even the aspect of her life she thought she had figured out and under control!

Ruki eyed her with a curious look on his face, barely hiding his amusement. He looked as if he was thinking about something while he studied her face, though he didn’t voice any of those thoughts. As he made his way to the kitchen, Chiyo anxiously followed.

The tall Vampire investigated the cabinet that they used to store all the plates in. Then he looked back at her. Chiyo didn’t like the way this was going, and she was sure the look on her face was one of pure horror by now.

“Now that I think about it, this odd number of plates does irk me. You will be a good guineapig and make up for it.”

This man never failed to trigger the flight instinct in her. She took a step back and bumped into the kitchen counter, knocking over a box of sugar. Ruki sighed.

“Clean this up. I expect you to come straight to my room once you are done with that,” he said.

She wanted to protest, but something in the eyes of this man told her that it was best not to argue.

“Do not dawdle,” he said and left her alone with the mess she had made.

Chiyo watched him walk out of the kitchen and sighed. Just what was wrong with her? She wasn’t feeling like herself ever since she had left the Sakamaki mansion and started spending her time here.

She started to be increasingly jumpy and clumsy. That never used to happen to her before; was Ruki making her this nervous? Her heart sure was feeling as if it was going to jump out through her throat whenever she interacted with him. Or was it because she wasn’t used to doing housework? She really wanted to leave again, but she also really wanted to find out more about the mystery surrounding her, Yui and, apparently, both Vampire families. Lately she was starting to think that maybe Shuu was correct all along in saying that his father liked to spin fate however he pleased. Did he send her those dreams about Lilith? Was that even in his powers to do? How much power did the Vampire King have anyway? She never succeeded in grasping the extent of his powers.

She shook her head and sighed. What did it even matter? Maybe she should just give up and go back; she never had this strange dream again afterwards, so maybe it was just that? A simple weird dream? Pure coincidence that it was also strangely biblical and just like Yui’s dream proclaiming her as Eve?

No… these guys knew something she didn’t, and she wanted to find out what at least, since she already went through the trouble of coming here.

She tidied the counter from all the sugar and made her way to Ruki’s room reluctantly.

[drunknillawafer]

right down the line: zuko x firebender!reader | part 4

You grew up close to the Royal Family due to your father's position as a General, but you ran away from home after the agni kai against your best friend. Now, you've joined the Gaang and plan on doing your part in ending the 100-year war.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

helloo here is part 4... thank u for the support so far! i can feel my writing getting better... hopefully you guys like this part hehe... the next one is going to be so... angst... so... zuko... so stay tuned! again i do not own these characters or the atla world >.< enjoy! about 2,491 words & not really proofread at the end sorryyy

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It was unbearable those first few months, before the move to the Earth Kingdom village. Previous defiance of locking myself in my chambers was a reactive solution to a persistent problem: The Fire Nation. No, I would need a more permanent answer to my problems if I craved peace of mind.

Since the moment Zuko’s screams embedded themselves into my brain, constantly replaying in a cycle of distress, I had not been able to sleep. I would lay down on the large bed with a wine-colored duvet and matching pillow-sheets, hoping the softness would swallow me whole. Take me to a different place than my home.

A lot of things would stop me from the bliss of sleeping.

One of them being my father. He was never one to share a lot with his daughter, let alone exchange kind words or attentive praises. He’s an important man with serious tasks, as he would put it. He doesn’t have time to watch my new fire-bending move or sword progress or whatever it was he most definitely didn’t care for. Over the years, I grew accustomed to our silent agreement. Happily, even. He’ll provide for me, give me everything I ask for, and allow me the freedom of my personal life if I excel in everything that it is I do, surpassing the royal heir’s skills in bending, swords, and education. I suppose it’s why he didn’t care for my special relationship with Zuko. He’d only see it as a move to get ahead in life.

It's what made him such a good General to the Fire Lord.

It shouldn’t have been surprising that he would force me to go to the agni kai. It shouldn’t knock the wind out of my lungs every time I relive the memory of realization that I’d be watching Zuko.

But it does. I couldn’t wrap my head around why. Why did he make me witness such an awful thing?

When sleep did come, I was rewarded with solace. Dreams of flashbacks, a time when I foolishly believed my father cared about the only child he had. There is this one recurring dream that I close my eyes and wish to come every night when I attempt to rest.

The first thing I see is the shamrock grass, crunching beneath my feet. Slowly, the environment pieces together as I fall deeper into my slumber. I see the stone as I walk forward, trading in the pasture for sleek, grey pavement.

Three more steps, and I reach the pond I know so well. This is when comfort finds its way back into my body. I take a deep breath and sigh; I am at the Royal Palace’s turtle duck pond.

Zuko walks up beside me in my dreamland, interlocking his fingers with mine. We stand side-by-side in silence, soaking in the seconds we are in each other’s hands. For a moment, I can believe this is my reality and there is no waking up from this.

Tears form in my eyes and the world around me is suddenly becoming foggy. The green washing away with the grey, becoming blurs in the distance. I can only see Zuko, and he is looking at me, and we are so beautiful.

I wake with a gasp from the one bliss in the round ‘o’clock torture I receive and begin the cycle again. Sometimes I lay back down and wish to return, other times I just lay awake and contemplate what I’m going to do about the pain. The truth.

Years of propaganda washed away in a single decision of the brutal man that calls himself my father. I can finally see clearly. The Fire Nation is a plague to the world, we’re not sharing our greatness. We’re a disgrace to life, and we deserve every bit of shame at our doorsteps.

I’m ashamed to be from this nation, and a fire-bender. A gift that could be warmth is destruction and chaos and terror. Who would ever want to be all those things when we could choose to be soft?

What is one girl’s opinion against a whole nation. A melancholy, depressed, broken-hearted girl at that. They’d never take me seriously. I’d have to try my chances with the outside world. Maybe I could hide my bending, pose as a swordswoman, find a group of some kind. A group who sees things as I do.

My body relaxes at the thought of a solid plan. I don’t know how I’m going to manage it but, I’m leaving the Fire Nation. And I am not looking back.

Jeong-Jeong’s headquarters were built on a piece of land peeking through a steady river. It was a small, tan-colored shack with many similar structures built around it. It was a sort of community of Fire Nation deserters who did not wish to be found.

Katara, Aang, Sokka, and I were taking a pit-stop here to let Master Jeong-Jeong teach the Avatar how to fire-bend.

While the rest of them were by the river, fishing, water-bending, or learning from the Master, I was alone, pacing back and forth from tree to tree deeper into the forest, wondering what to do.

If things here don’t work out for Aang, who would be left to teach him? Fire Nation deserters are not common and those who are fire-bending masters less so. My original plans no longer worked. It wasn’t about hiding my identity and being with the Freedom Fighters anymore. Now, my mind is set on helping Aang take down the Fire Lord.

I just kept stalling it. I hadn’t practiced my bending in front of people for years and suddenly I had to help a twelve-year-old take down an empire. Maybe Jeong-Jeong could do it for me, maybe not.

But one thing was clear: it was time to come clean to my friends. The days keep moving and the nights keep passing, and I’m becoming a part of their group just as quickly. I was never meant to keep this all to myself.

They aren’t like Jet. They can handle it, they can see. They would understand because they’re not here to cause more pain, harm, or war. They know me, they know I want to have peace as much as they do. The worst thing that could happen was I’d be off on my own again, but at least this way, I’d be honest.

Walking back in the direction of Jeong-Jeong’s hide out, I spotted Katara and Sokka by the river on their own. They were giving Aang his own space with his teacher, a few hundred feet away.

“Hey, Y/N, where’ve you been?” Katara asks, as she practices a bending move she’s working on. The water moves gracefully knowing it’s safe in her hands.

“Just… over there…” Awkwardly, I gesture with my hand to the forest.

Holding his fishing pole, Sokka raises his eyebrow at my poor attempt at a smooth reply. “Right… over there.”

I sit down on a log stump between Sokka and Katara and stare at the water for a moment. Is it really necessary that I do this? Do they have to know, I question in my mind.

Yes, of course, the sane part of my brain answers. Anything to stop the Fire Lord, anything to put an end to all of this. Remember? My conscious tells me. I do.

“I have to tell you something.” I finally say.

Sokka and Katara glance at each other, confusion radiating out of their eyes.

“What is it, Y/N?” Katara asks. She allows the water to flow back into the river, pausing her bending practice to sit down on the log stump next to me. She nods in encouragement. Sokka’s standing on my left, waiting patiently for my words.

“I want to start with- I made the decision a long time ago to hide when I was hurt and lost,” I pause. Sokka tilts his head, still confused. “When I was thirteen, I saw my best friend get burned by his own father in an agni kai. An agni kai is a traditional fire-bender duel won when one opponent burns the other.” Trembling, I let the words come out. “It shattered me. I was never the same.”

“So, you’re Fire Nation?” Sokka asks. I look up at him and see his face. A new kind of hurt was washed on it. When it comes to them, that hurt can mean a million instances of violence.

Looking back at the river, I confess. “Yeah, and a fire-bender. I ran away from home a few months after it happened, when my father and I moved to an Earth Kingdom village. The same village you helped save, Sokka.” The compliment does little to distract him from the truth I just spilled. “I found Jet and the Freedom Fighters, and they helped me. They gave me a bed, food, and a home. But then Jet turned out to be…” Katara winces. It goes without saying how my former leader betrayed his values. “You guys know he would never accept me, so I hid my true self. And I don’t want to keep secrets anymore. We have the chance to stop the Fire Lord here, and I want to do everything I can to help. As someone born in the Fire Nation, I have to restore our honor.”

The two siblings remain quiet for a moment, processing the new information. Katara is the first to speak. “You're a victim too. They’re just as violent with their own.” She puts a hand on my shoulder, comforting me after rambling out my past.

Sokka walks away, barely letting the dirt and sticks make noise under his steps.

“Sokka!” Katara calls out to him. She gets ready to follow him but I stop her.

“I’ll go.” I reassure. She nods and sits back down, watching her friend and her brother walk away.

After we’re out of Katara’s sight, Sokka stops in his tracks with a couple of feet in between us. I want to give him the space he needs.

Sokka turns around, his eyes instantly meeting mine. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.” He says, calming the stampede of anxiety in my veins.

Softly, I reply. "I'm sorry too."

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I… was so used to hiding. It’s my first time telling anyone since I left.” I explain. His arms are folded, creating an imaginary barrier between us.

“I should know that the girl I like is Fire Nation! It's very conflicting!” He exasperates. We both let the blood rush to our cheeks about the nature of his feelings.

We hadn’t really talked about it since he told me back at Aunt Wu’s village. There were small things, though. Miniature movements and gestures told me things had changed. Like when he brought me a rock that reminded him of my eye color or brushing his hand against mine when we walked side-by-side. Sokka and I could train in swords while Katara teaches Aang what she knows. He’s learned some of my sparring tricks, I’d have to switch it up on him soon. But it was diverting. At the sight of his ocean eyes, I’d turn into a softer version of myself. One I lost amid the chaos.

“Well, it’s not like I’ve been there recently! Maybe that’s why you didn’t detect me!” I say, keeping it playful. He shoots a direct glance at me, letting me know he’s being serious. I drop the jokes. “I hope we can still be… okay, though.”

“We’re okay, it’s just going to take some adjusting. I mean, you used to be our enemy… But I trust you, ever since Jet.” He uncrosses his arms and plants them by his side. “Is there anything else? I’m not going to find out you have a pet dragon, right?”

“No,” I reply, stepping toward him and closing the space in between. “Not that I know of anyway.” My footsteps stop a few inches away and I smile up at him. The tension from my confession has dissipated into the air, becoming part of the clouds, and now there’s just a little bit of space between us.

“Good, I couldn’t handle that.” A smile is fighting to erupt on his face.

I swear he’s about to lean in when-

Katara screams in pain from the direction of the river. Our bubble of infatuation is popped, and we dash back to Jeong-Jeong’s hideout.

As we rush in, I see Katara holding her hands close to her chest and a fearful Aang. Jeong-Jeong’s face says it all. He burned her.

Sokka's overprotective nature takes over. “Look at what you did! I told you we shouldn’t have come here!” He runs to his sister’s side, but she hides her hands away from him. Probably to protect the wound and… Aang.

“Katara, I’m sorry!” Aang pleads.

In a crying hurry, she runs away. Sokka motions to follow her but I stop him. “I’ll go, you calm down. Be easy on him.”

He huffs at me. “Fine.”

☆

Katara’s leaning over the river when I first spot her. Her hands are in the water, flashing a white light as her cries soften. She doesn’t notice me.

I step closer as I watch her witness the glow. Once the light dims and she pulls her hands out, I have a chance to speak.

“That’s a healing ability.” My voice catches her by surprise, but it doesn’t affect her any more than her new-found skill. “Water-benders are gifted with the ability to heal wounds. It’s like a medicine.” I explain.

“How do you know this?” She asks. I sit down next to her as she’s resting on her ankles, both of us facing the continuous river. If we followed it in the other direction, we could find Jeong-Jeong’s hideout again.

“My father always told me to fight your enemy, you must know your enemy. Basic aristocratic education. Didn’t someone teach you?” I question.

“No.” She looks down at her hands. “My mother died in a Fire Nation raid. They took all our water-benders.” The pain contorts her face.

“Is that why Sokka reacted like that?”

“Yeah.” She nods.

“Oh.” Seconds of silence pass, letting our recent exchange process in our minds. I attempt to make her feel better. “Water can heal, you’re lucky. All fire seems to do is destroy.”

“It’s powerful.” Katara says.

“He didn’t mean to hurt you, yaknow.” I defend the young Avatar. “Without proper control, it can get out of your hands. Then, all you can do is sit and stand. It’s not like the other elements.”

“Maybe Jeong-Jeong was right, maybe Aang isn’t ready to fire-bend.”

“I don’t think he is.”

[dangermousie]

Your JoL posts have been amazing. I've loved posting my thoughts on them at times.

What do you think are Qing di's intentions about Fan Xian? Does he intend to let him succeed him as the emperor?

Thank you!!! I am so obsessed with this drama - to find something that is super smart AND emotionally engrossing at the same time is super rare but this really hits the spot for me.

Re: the emperor. You know, it wouldn’t surprise me if the emperor despite his brains is like many otherwise brilliant absolute rulers and doesn’t truly believe there will be an end to his rule and that he’s bound by mortality (think of England’s Elizabeth I, an amazing ruler who refused to even contemplate appointing heirs properly because it would mean her reign would end sometimes. Or Louis XIV of France who fought half of Europe and built Versailles and ruled for over 70 years and supposedly said “apres moi le deluge.” Or even the founder of the Qin Dynasty who was the first to unite China and yet was so obsessed with immortality his hastened his death taking mercury elixirs.)

I honestly wonder if some of his obsession with finding the Divine Temple isn’t just to get whatever weapons and secrets it may have or even see if he can take down something he can’t control but to see if there is a way to prolong life. If my theory that he’s a grandmaster is correct and Grandmaster Ye said other grandmasters don’t view themselves as human any more then why not escape the human limitation of death too?

But even if that’s not the case, I do not think he’s grooming Fan Xian to take over. First logistics - he’d have to appoint him on his deathbed because there ain’t no way he’s making him a Crown Prince and it’s not because he’s not in the royal family formally (face it, if the emperor wanted to manipulate things so Fan Xian never formally becomes a Fan and is somehow taken into the imperial family, he’d figure it out) or because to remove an appointed crown prince and son of the empress at that is a big deal (because ditto.)

It’s because the Emperor will never allow his Crown Prince to be someone TOO talented, it’s too much of a threat. Crown Prince is bloody minded enough to be an emperor but he’s only the third smartest out of his five sons (and frankly, third Prince is so young the jury is out on how smart the kid is so maybe he’d be smarter too.) Emperor wants someone he can control without expending titanic effort on the matter. Not someone with too many of his own ideas and a way of getting them rammed through.

The emperor is fond of Fan Xian insofar as it’s possible for him to be fond of anyone (which ain’t much - you get the sense he had more of that capacity when young though even there nothing mattered as much as power; if he’s 100% not related to FX’s mom’s death in any capacity I will be shocked) but as his comment in that pitchpot scene after CPP left indicates, to him strong feelings are a nuisance and stupidity and burden. So he’s fond when it costs him nothing important and is even beneficial but the moment Fan Xian steps out of line enough to be an issue or, even worse, the moment he decides he can’t control Fan Xian, he would not hesitate to murder him, fondness or not (in a way, FX loving so many people so much is Fan Xian’s safety - look how many levers the Fans and Wan’er let alone his followers like WQN give the emperor.) Actually, Fan Xian doesn’t even have to do anything super wrong; if the emperor thought it would give him a big enough advantage, he’d probably murder all his kids on the walls of the palace on the “I can make more” principle a la the father of William Marshal.

Ok I blabbed a whole novel but short version: I’d be surprised if he’s grooming Fan Xian to be the next emperor which is just as well since FX would be miserable as one and I hope at the end he gets his wish to live a joyful life traveling the world with Wan’er and enjoying the peace with his family.

Ultimately, I think the emperor wants to use him like he uses everyone and everything to achieve his goals and make his reign stronger and his kingdom stronger and balance the other princes in a stalemate (if his children fight with each other they are too busy to fight him) and just use him use him use him to the utmost just how he does with everyone else.

[midnightskyeneko]

The Devildom night brought stillness and calm into Purgatory Hall. The normally bright walls and décor softened with candles and lamps instead of the larger lights used during the lighter hours of the realm. The stars shimmered and twinkled under the light of a deep violet moon, giving the outside grasses and flowered an enchanting glow, with fireflies speaking their language of lights just outside of the window.

A young angel laid his head upon a human lap, having drifted to sleep from a lullaby sung to him just moments before. His hat fell onto the couch, his hands holding onto whatever fabric he could find on his favorite person. His breaths were soft and slow, sinking deeper and deeper into sleep.

I smiled, running my fingers through his blond hair and sighing contently. I thought of Luke almost like my own child, one I had to protect and care for despite the monumental age difference between us. Elder by years, but not as mature. I chuckled and wondered how long it took for an angel to mature, like Simeon or Raphael.

I flinched when I saw a shadow appearing just out of the corner of my eye, turning my head slowly to find Simeon in sleep clothes, his head tilted with his expression of gentle amusement.

"He's stubborn when it comes to his bedtime sometimes, but seems quick when it's you putting his to sleep, Ash."

A soft blush formed on my face. The way he spoke my name was smooth and comforting. I turned my head back to Luke, chuckling and smiling.

"I think I'll be here awhile, if you don't mind." My voice was almost a whisper, not wanting to wake the child.

The elder one took his seat beside me, watching Luke sleep as well. My hand stroked his head still. Simeon sighed a laugh. My mouth moved faster than my brain could tell me no.

"We're almost like his parents, don't you think?"

His body stiffed, and with a glance I noticed a blush on his dark complexion. He was cute like this. The same color returned to my cheeks as I shook my head.

"Forget I said that. I'll carry him to his bed and head home."

He nodded wordlessly and stood with me, accompanying me to Luke's room and allowing me to tuck him in with his normal clothes still on. I brushed his hair from his face and stared. He was so peaceful...almost helpless...my heart hurt in my chest. Why am I thinking this way? He was more powerful than I think, but remembering that day...protecting Beel and Luke from Lucifer's wrath...I vowed that nothing would ever happen to him.

"Are you okay? Is something wrong?" Simeon asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. I blinked, looked up at Simeon with the same concern in my eyes, then smiled and shook my head.

"Just...thinking silly things like always."

"Maybe you should rest here for the night."

"Thank you, but I don't have spare clothes, and I'm sure the others--"

"I'm sure one night won't harm them. You can borrow a shirt of mine, if that makes you comfortable." The angel was too sweet for words. How could I say no?

Getting a quick shower in, I made myself comfortable in the guest room of Purgatory Hall, burying my head into the pillow before falling asleep. If I had been awake, I would have heard the door open. I would have felt a hand on my cheek and lips pressed against my forehead. I would have heard well wishes and soft hummings to put me deeper into sleep. Another blanket to keep me warm, tucked in, protected and cared for.

The angels and their human sleep peacefully in the Devildom night, safe and sound.

[asmallmoon333]

Near for the ask game 👁️👁️ And also Lawlight ✨

Hi Grim!! :3

Near! :D

How I feel about this character: Like him, but tbh no real deep or passionate feelings. I haven't poked his brain enough to get interested. I will say I started liking him more in the A-Kira one-shot, and not only cause his long hair was awesome, but cause I wanted to know more about WHY he was like that, what he felt all those years later about the Kira Case, how his life had gone as the new 'L'.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Mello in a childhood rival-turned-enemy-turned-lover way; Light a very messed-up 'mutual substitutes' way; and Minoru Tanaka cause I think they should have at least met and picked each others' brains!

My non-romantic OTP for this character: Also Mello actually, sometimes I just want them to understand each other and come to like...not a moment of peace, so much as a moment of actually talking about what their childhood at Wammys did to them and their relationship as a consequence of it.

My unpopular opinion about this character: Anime Near really was boring and I had no interest in watching him. Manga Near is more interesting, but they still needed to make him more goofy. (I saw two alternate panel translations of 'Serious Near' vs 'Goofy Near' and I loved the second one.)

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: Near meeting Minoru Tanaka!!! What a freaking loss of opportunity. Also, I'm a fan of the "Near wrote Mikami's Name" theory and I'd like that confirmed or denied in canon.

My OTP: I don't have one, I don't know him well enough tbh, even the ones I do ship, it's kinda with ambivalent feelings.

My cross over ship: Dont have one, sorry :3

A headcanon fact: He didn't grow his hair out cause he's too lazy to cut it or too depressed to bother, he just genuinely likes the way it looks and feels.

Lawlight! :D

When I started shipping it if I did: In December 2022 when I started writing for them! Altho tbh I'm not sure if I so much as shipped them, or if I just really liked the challenge of writing about them getting and being together.

My thoughts: Love them when they're just eternally messed with and messing with each other. I like them both individually as characters so having them together is really fun.

What makes me happy about them: Their symmetry. They just GET each other. And I love picking at their brains and poking them with a stick, and putting them in Situations together. I think their reactions are really fun.

What makes me sad about them: That in canon they were (or maybe mostly just Light, cause we never got to pick L's brain about it) too dumb to see what they'd be bored as hell without the other. That they never got the chance to actually be honest with each other before it was too late. (Altho in the anime L did try.)

Things done in fanfic that annoys me: For L, my pet peeve is the idea that his whole personality was an 'act.' I've never heard a good argument for why he'd bother. From a character standpoint, this would mean we never knew anything about him, which makes me sad. As for Light, when someone gives him too many "good" or too many "bad" traits, for whatever reason. It no longer feels like Light at some point.

Things I look for in fanfic: Mind Games :3

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: I don't think they're capable of it lol, sometimes I don't even think they're capable of ending up with each other. But for the sake of it, I wanted to see more of Light and Kiyomi. and as for L, Matsuda could take care of him.

My happily ever after for them: Mind Games, but forever! :D

Who is the big spoon/little spoon: Light is usually the little spoon cause L clings like an octopus, and Light needs to breathe so he faces the other way. L becomes the little spoon if Light wakes up in the middle of the night and L's asleep but not clinging to him.

What is their favorite non-sexual activity: Dang, I can't say Mind Games again. Or arguing. Or discussing a book cause it would be to one-up each other. So I think--sharing a meal. Just the two of them quietly enjoying their food together, and even giving little bits off their plates that they think (hope) the other might enjoy. A small sign that they want the other to live, and be happy.

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

What if once Gdorf’s married (whether it's Equal Lady or not is up to you), every morning before his wife wakes & goes for his morning exercises, he leans over to plant a soft, sweet kiss to her forehead or cheek & whisper “A’nï màtushàq’so...”

(Which is a bit of a play on an Arabic phrase that is just… super sweet. It means, “I love you passionately,” “I adore you,” or “I am deeply in love with you.” It's supposed to be very emotionally vulnerable & emotionally charged & refers to deep & profound, sometimes even overwhelming feelings of affection.) So, that’s reflected in his words.

Like, wifey doesn't wake up, but he's still expressing such things. Who knows, maybe he saw how peaceful she was as she slept & lovely she looked with the early morning sunlight filtering in through the window behind him. And, maybe the first time he did it, he’d utterly melted inside at how comfortable she was with him & just found himself doing it & was every bit as stunned by his own actions as you'd expect. Because maybe he normally wouldn’t. And maybe he hadn’t realized just how deeply his own feelings went until right then.

And maybe he’s since gotten into the habit of doing it every morning.

His reaction to his own actions & words? Possibly, to the first time it happens.

If you please?

Ahhhhh cutenessssss! Sorry for the late response, my brain wasn't wanting to work on the me section of the ask.

WW Ganondorf is most willing to accept that he has become a soft fool for his wife. She is a precious piece of his life now, and though he still wishes for Hyrule to be above the waves, he now has peace in knowing he has someone to love and focus on.

OoT Ganondorf is STUPIFIED when he realizes that OH SHIT I KINDA REALLY LOVE MY WIFE. He didn't ever figure that he would feel this deeply, but oh dear lord he's in love. I headcanon him as a Tsundere though, so only sleepy wife will get to hear how much he adores you.

TP Ganondorf blanks out when he realizes that you have successfully taken his heart and ran off with it. He murmurs how derailed all his plans have gotten because someone came along, stole his attention, and then managed to snag his love. His face is stoney at first, before breaking into a smile. He loves you.

HW Ganondorf laughs as he realizes that everything in the past months have led up to him having a soulmate. He nuzzles into your hair, muttering how his mothers were right and oh how younger him would laugh as well. He's touchy with his love, so as soon as he realizes how deep his well of love is for you, he is waking you up for more physical reminders of the feeling.

And Now, ChatGPT, with a beautiful imitation of giving an opinion:

Wind Waker Ganondorf

Realizing He Loves His Wife: Wind Waker Ganondorf would initially be taken aback by the depth of his own feelings. He’s used to being driven by ambition and power, not by love. Seeing his wife sleep peacefully, looking so serene and lovely in the morning light, would make him pause. He’d be struck by the realization that he’s found a deep, emotional connection he never anticipated.

Morning Ritual: The first time he leans over to kiss her and whispers “A’nï màtushàq’so,” he would be surprised by his own actions. He wouldn’t have expected himself to be so vulnerable and affectionate. Over time, it becomes a cherished routine, a moment of softness in his otherwise hard-edged life.

Reacting to Her Snuggling Closer: When she snuggles closer in her sleep or murmurs his name with a happy sigh, he would feel a warmth spread through him. It would be a strange but wonderful feeling, making him appreciate these quiet, tender moments. He might not fully understand these emotions, but he would cherish them and hold them close.

Ocarina of Time Ganondorf

Realizing He Loves His Wife: Ocarina of Time Ganondorf would be more resistant to acknowledging his feelings at first. The idea of love and tenderness is foreign to him, but seeing his wife so at peace in his presence would stir something deep within him. Realizing he loves her would be a slow process, but the sight of her sleeping peacefully would be a powerful catalyst.

Morning Ritual: The first time he kisses her and whispers “A’nï màtushàq’so,” he would feel a mix of confusion and tenderness. As he makes it a habit, it becomes a way for him to express his feelings in a way that doesn’t compromise his perceived strength.

Reacting to Her Snuggling Closer: When she snuggles closer or murmurs his name, he would feel a protective instinct and a deep sense of belonging. These actions would make him realize how much he values her presence and how much she has become a part of his life.

Twilight Princess Ganondorf

Realizing He Loves His Wife: Twilight Princess Ganondorf would be somewhat more in touch with his emotions compared to his other iterations. He would feel a profound sense of peace and contentment seeing his wife so comfortable and happy. Realizing he loves her would be a powerful moment, making him feel more connected to his humanity.

Morning Ritual: The first time he kisses her and whispers “A’nï màtushàq’so,” he would be surprised at the depth of his own emotions. Over time, it becomes a cherished part of his routine, a way to start his day with love and affection.

Reacting to Her Snuggling Closer: When she snuggles closer or murmurs his name, he would feel a deep warmth and happiness. These moments would make him realize how much he treasures her and how important she is to him. He would silently vow to protect and cherish her always.

Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf

Realizing He Loves His Wife: Hyrule Warriors Ganondorf would be the most conflicted about his feelings. He is used to power and dominance, not vulnerability and love. However, seeing his wife sleep so peacefully would stir something deep within him, making him realize that he has found something truly special.

Morning Ritual: The first time he kisses her and whispers “A’nï màtushàq’so,” he would be both surprised and comforted by his own actions. Over time, it becomes a way for him to express his love in a quiet, personal way, giving him a sense of peace.

Reacting to Her Snuggling Closer: When she snuggles closer or murmurs his name, he would feel a profound sense of warmth and protectiveness. These moments would make him realize how deeply he cares for her and how much she means to him. He would cherish these small, tender moments as a reminder of their bond.

In each case, Ganondorf would find a deep, unexpected comfort and happiness in these quiet, tender moments with his wife. Despite their differences, each version of Ganondorf would come to value and cherish the love and connection they have found, making them more human and less driven solely by ambition and power.

[astralarias]

The Hope of the World - COYH Zine

Hi!! Here is my completed fic I wrote for the GW2 Commander of your Heart Zine! It was so much fun to take part and I hope you enjoyed seeing all the gorgeous art and wonderful writing from all involved.

My piece was a reflection on Jioxa and how she feels she fits into the world, her place in it as Commander. It is set in an ambiguous dream-vision, but no matter how real, a visit from an old dear friend gives her the encouragement she needs to stay strong.

1.5k words | Implied Trahearne/Commander | No content warnings

She dreams of him, sometimes.

Nights when the buzz of thoughts in her head give rise to great thunderstorms, when all her doubts and fears crash down upon her. Torrential, unending.

She dreams of him, and he becomes her safe haven from the storm. His presence is like the serenity of the full moon on a clear night; quiet, soft, watchful. It’s in these fleeting moments that Jioxa finds peace, or something close to it.

It never lasts. She wakes to a world rocked by Dragons and Gods, the chaos she wrought upon the world heavy in her veins like lead. It was the only choice, and she knows this, but knowledge isn’t feeling, and oh, how she feels. She laments, for Soo-won especially, source of all, who Jioxa only knew in her pain and torment.

But she dreams of him, and often she wishes in dreams she could stay.

Tonight is one such night. The day had been long and arduous, leaving her body aching and her mind clouded. Sleep found her easier than usual, and the waking world gave way to a more pleasant illusion.

She sits on a precipice, overlooking a soft darkness dotted with a million stars. The spiral arm of the galaxy stretches out from beneath her feet to far above her head, purple and blue and gold. Eternal Alchemy in its most beautiful form. She’s wearing a simple, comfortable outfit, and her long black hair is loose, settled around her shoulders.

He’s beside her.

Trahearne. As he was - as she remembers - before Maguuma. Back when the world was - not easier, but simpler. He turns to her, and the smile he gives warms her heart. She meets his eyes, her bright orange to his yellow, and he blurs in her vision as tears well up.

“I’ve missed you,” she says, taking his hand in her own, running her thumbs over the bumps and imperfections. The physicality of him, even in a dream - she’s missed it dearly.

“As have I, dearheart,” Trahearne replies, and her heart flutters, his love for her almost flowing between them. As if she was like him. As if she could feel what he felt, as he could do with his own kind. It’s a bitter thought, that whatever they had was not as deep as it could have been, were she - sylvari. She chokes down the word her brain had initially supplied, better.

It isn’t that she hates who she is, but she can’t discount the nights she’s spent laying awake, wishing she was more. More ‘asura’, more intelligent, more lovable. He makes her feel like she’s enough, but she wishes she could be more than enough for him. To connect with him, through thought and feeling alone; who wouldn’t yearn for that?

She sighs. As her parents had always said, thinking was like kneading dough. Helpful and necessary, but go on for too long and your bread would become chewy and tough. Think too much, and you’ll spin yourself into despair. Ugh. She wrinkles her nose. She’s using her parent’s metaphors, now? She’s getting old.

She shakes her head to clear the unwanted worries, and looks back up to the serene sylvari beside her.

“Trahearne,” she says, “can I ask you something?”

His gaze softens, warms like the spring sun. “You know you need not ask. What troubles you?”

She knows this is all an elaborate play orchestrated by her tired mind, but his presence is as comforting as it had been in life. She leans against him, and he moves his arm around her shoulder to hold her.

“Why me?” Jioxa begins. “Throughout everything, I was your first choice. You could have chosen someone better, after we killed Zhaitan. Someone - a soldier, a tactician, someone braver and stronger. Why did you stick with me? What did I bring to - to everything?”

For a moment the world hangs in silence, as heavy as a brick. When he speaks, gentle, she lets out a breath of relief. She’d almost wondered if she’d done something wrong, made some transgression by asking. The last dregs of her fear melt away as he tugs her closer.

“My heart, you underestimate yourself,” he says. “I didn’t need a soldier; indeed, I had plenty. I didn’t need bravery or strength, although you displayed both in troves, more than I had any right to ask of you. I needed you, yourself. A pure, kind heart, and a voice to inspire courage, to light the way through the dark and keep that light ablaze when I could not. Had you not been by my side, I - and the Pact - would have faltered in our first steps.”

He pauses, looking down at her with eyes full of warm sincerity. “You brought to me something more valuable than all the armies of Tyria combined. Hope. Something that had evaded my grasp for the longest time, after all those years in Orr.”

She feels heavy tears stream down her cheeks, although she doesn’t recall starting to cry. She’s silent, words slipping between her fingers despite how she scrambles to hold onto them. His own words are everything to her, a lifeline - but she can’t quite bring herself to believe him.

Trahearne turns to her, a slight furrow to his leafy brow. She sniffles, trying to wipe away her tears - unsuccessfully, as they don’t seem in any mood to stop.

“Jioxa,” he says, near a whisper. “May I show you something?”

Curiosity flickers in her chest, stirring her heart. The tears stop, and she fixes him with a quizzical look, her ears pricking up a little. Words are still beyond her, but she manages an eager nod. Whatever Trahearne has to show her, she knows it will be worthwhile.

He smiles, reaches out, and presses his hand to her forehead.

The cosmic environment fades out into a dizzying rush of color for a brief few moments. As the world stabilizes again, she finds herself in a familiar environment. Unearthly birdsong echoes in the distance, and great, towering coral colors the otherwise bleak landscape.

Orr.

And….a Pact camp. She and Trahearne stand behind a stack of crates, hidden from view of the soldiers, who lounge around a blazing campfire. Of the faces she can see, she notes a human, a charr, and a norn. There are two other figures, their backs turned. An asura, and a sylvari.

The asura is small, lithe, lively. They stand on a small box, gesturing wildly with their hands as they recall a story. It’s clearly exaggerated beyond all belief, but the others around the fire seem enraptured. Their eyes shine, their expressions ones of joy despite the war-torn environs.

The asura comes to the conclusion of their story, and the others clap and cheer. Jioxa smiles to herself. She’s not sure what Trahearne is showing her, here, but it warms her to see these people’s happiness.

The asura takes an over-dramatic bow and turns to clamber down from the box. Jioxa swears her heart stops, for a few moments.

It’s her.

Much younger, scrawnier, but undeniably her. Her face - her eyes shining with pride, her little ears, and that ponytail she used to wear day-in, day-out. She swallows the lump in her throat, turning to look up at Trahearne, who stands silent beside her.

“Why-”

“Look,” he says, softly, kneeling down to her level. “Look around, dearheart. Look at those soldiers; they’ve all lost friends this day. This was one of the hardest battles of the war against Zhaitan, and yet - you were there, always. To bring even the slightest joy to a place like Orr is no small feat, yet you did it as if nothing was more natural. You never stopped bringing hope and joy to these people, even when you, too, were scared and reeling. You were their guiding light. As you were mine.”

Raw emotion writhes in Jioxa’s chest, and she blinks back yet more tears. She glances back out at the soldiers gathered around the campfire. Trahearne is right; they look at the other-her with nothing short of adoration, reverence. She is not just their Commander; she is their reason to keep going, through all the death and despair of the Dragon.

With everything that had been going on at the time - when this scene was real - she hadn’t even noticed. She’d been doing nothing more than being herself, fearful and flawed but her, no mask, no shield.

Her gaze wanders back to Trahearne. She meets his eyes. He’s smiling, and she takes a moment to bask in his pride, lets it wash over her like sunlight. Then, she nods. Wordless, but that is all he needs; she understands. He hugs her close to him, and in his arms she closes her eyes as the scene fades away once again. She clings to his warmth and safety for as long as she can, until her consciousness fades into a soothing void, the dream - or was it more than that? - giving way to sleep.

When she wakes, it is back in her bed, and the reality of Trahearne’s absence squeezes at her heart. A familiar ache, now. But for the first time in longer than she can recall, a sense of peace permeates her mind. She opens her eyes, taking a deep breath. A brighter future is waiting for her to light the way.

[sibylsleaves]

Hello defend in place/may day anon. Just finished 5b and wtfff it was soooooo goooood??!!!!! Literally if the wacky jonah plot wasnt there … okay okay general thoughts 1. Adding dumb luck and may day to my roster of favourite episodes this season dumb luck idk I just really liked it (lucy plot yay!! Also bobby of all people pointing out all the people lucy saved by saving one person) and may day of course episode of all time (more on that later) 2. Karen in fomo is giving buck and eddie in that back yard pool mystery so bad literally buddiekaren sleuth episode when. Or karen anyone sleuth episode pretty please 3. The eddie plot in hero complex is literally so out of place lmfao. Also well. Im usually not a diaz parents hater but rewatching this episode knowing current canon was making me so annoyed at them like let eddie live in peace. Please 4. I miss the music budget they used to have. Like they really paid to use longview by green day and holding out for a hero by bonnie tyler within the first 5 minutes of 5x17. For a jonah origin story. Lol. 5. Literally so interesting that they had taylor talk about what the 118 means to buck and then have her literally betray, in her words, bucks family in the very next episode. i need to analyze her brain 6. I love this hen chim plot so much. And its like I watch that, and theres so many good examples of how buck and eddie are written in parallel to the romantic pairings in the show, but here so so obvious to me how they are also not written like hen and chim’s relationship at all. Like buck and eddie neverrr have buddy / team up plots literally the only ones that come to mind are treasure hunt (buck was wooing taylor) and an episode we all refer to as poker date. Lol. Its like chim and hen are about having a ride or die. And buck and eddie are about sitting in each others mess and embracing it. Idk if that makes sense but it was stewing in my head the whole time I was watching 5x18 lol. 7. Continuity in this show is so bad sometimes, why did eddie say he had to leave to pick up chris and also chris had friends over and he had to help carla in the same eddie bobby 5x18 scene. Like was it supposed to show eddie making excuses to leave or was it just a mistake 😭😭

okay may day thoughts YAYYYYY!!!!! It was so good omgg I was already kinda annoyed about the jonah plot before watching the season as a whole but now Im even more annoyed because may day would have served as the perfect 2 part finale (like s2/s3/s4) okay I’ll go by each character. May oh my gosh… her character growth from when she started dispatch to this point is so incredibly good. The stuff with claudette was so good, and I actually wish they would have explored her and may more than just the 3 episodes they were really in together. And then the may bobby stuff :((( so good. “I have two dads and youre one of them” and after bobby accidentally said he was her dad that morning… so good (david Im so sorry she didnt mean it). Literally what a good psuedo send off for corinne. Okay eddie HES SO HOT THIS EPISODE YAY. Literally 90% of my context for this ep was hot eddie may day edits lmao and it did not disappoint. But more importantly “god has spoken” eddielinda forever <3 it was sush a good line and such a fun pay off for the eddie linda stuff in 5x11. Okay the chim albert stuff… circling back to your answer to my original ask it was very not spoilery and I probably would have been fine to read it lol BUT crucially the one thing I did not know in your answer was that there was chim plot in this episode so in the end Im glad I didnt read it. I literally thought it was only may/claudette/bobby/eddie with the weird bucktaylorlucy stuff at the end. And let me tell you my heart dropped when chim and albert walked on that roof. I literally started crying and 911 is not even a show I tear up at that often. And then the moment when chim told albert to quit :’) so so good. And now Im even more mad at albert for 6x10 like why tf would he do that. Anyways. Josh yay I hope hes still dating that man Im so serious. I dont even care about him that much but Im sorry the only romance adjacent plots he has cannot be a hate crime and a man he flirted with once and never talked to again. Okay and buck. Why was he literally way more upset about bobby here than he was at any point in the 7x10 finale LMAO. The difference between the buck/lucy talk in this ep and that buck/tommy talk is actually insane, and yeah Im starting to see why people were so upset tommy was acting that way in the s7 finale. Anyways I dont really want to talk about him… how did taylor kelly sus out bucklucy from a conversation she couldnt hear while she stared at the back of their heads. Like 😭 okay final little thought was the way parts of this episode were written made me giggle. There was so much going on which is probably what makes it work so well but terry (hi king long time no see!!) was literally like sue I was asphyxiating like 60 minutes ago but the paramedics said Im fine now where do you need me. And then linda was like josh I cant leave Im literally on a call. Only for the call to end like 10s later haha. Okay and overall the thing thats so interesting to me is that this ep was definitely a tier above most of s5 but also it was an episode that was majorly focused on minor characters. Eddie aside, this ep was mostly about may/claudette/albert/josh with chim and bobby tied in with albert and may respectively. And its so interesting to me how well it worked here when generally their focus on minor characters felt so off in 5a. Oh well

Tl;dr: Im soooo happy I went into may day mostly blind it was actually sooo good, lived up to the hype and probably will be added to my episode of all time/rewatch roster which is very exclusive (maybe 10 eps). And thank YOU for the very mild encouragement to actually sit down and watch s5 in its entirety finally. I have so many thoughts about it all lol this is barely scratching the surface (like how the whole finale was basically about love stories and they made a point to show everyone starting over together and buck helping eddie start over while also deciding not to start over with taylor ANYWAYS) (also just remembered they destroyed a whole fire truck in the s5 finale only for bobby to be angsty about it for like 2 seconds and never talk about it again lmao what was that about. No wonder fox is broke)

omg im not gonna comment on all this but i enjoyed hearing about your enjoyment of 5b immensely!!!!!!!!! and i had forgotten about all that weird continuity stuff in 5x18 HOW WAS THAT NOT CAUGHT???

and YAY MAY DAY!!!!! in my heart, josh and carson or whatever his name is are still an item 🫶 i literally wrote him into a fic once thats how serious i am about it. no but literally the way the lucy taylor stuff went down was all so odd. like. buck never told her it was lucy he kissed but she just. divined i guess???? from a single not even flirtatious conversation???? some of the writing choices in this show do baffle me. like they are taking short cuts they dont need to take.

and wow honestly now that you've pointed that out about the minor characters i can't not see it. kind of same thing with defend in place!!!!!! like michael/david are supporting characters, ravi too, and they got the main focus in the episode. dang. im gonna be thinking about this for a while.

thank you also for mentioning the patching the holes scene in 5x18 because that scene is so so so soooooo sos so important in the pantheon of like, minor buddie scenes. like that's a load-bearing scene TO ME.

also please share with me your exclusive list of rewatch episodes. the people are dying to know!!!

[walder-138]

Imagine: Vasili having a private conversation with Abbey about his messed up life

Be careful it's filled with ANGST.

"Sometimes.. love knows how it'll make you fall for it, and also, give you that everlasting pain that'll remain in your soul as a scar. It can cut you so deeply.. sharply, than a knife. That if you sew to suture the wound.. it'll never seem to remove from the image. It will keep on reminding you.. that you would have never been this miserable and unfortunate.. if you had never met them. Never.. just never.."

"I loved Helen.. I did.. very much." Vasili tried not to break in front of Abbey. "But I was a fool. A scoundrel. That I fell for her and did what was necessary to win her heart. Now you don't say I was brainwashed that's why I couldn't remember anything but the point is.." He looks at Abbey with a hopeless and shattered look. "Why did I let this all happen to me? What was inside of me that truly SAID you need to choose this very path? What made me choose Perseus? How did I get to Adler? Why? Because I did it myself, Abbey.. I.. I chose this. I subconsciously decided to make myself suffer for the wrong I did. I chose the wrong side.. and.. here I am. Look at me." He smiled half-heartedly, with his arms half raised.

"I was naive. Even after being this intelligent? This witty? I.. I can't seem to.. to.." His voice shivered. "Break through this very situation? Only if.. I could have used my brain, I would have never—" Vasili tried not to sob and covered his eyes with his arm, sniffing a bit. "But I deserve it, Abbey. Because I truly deserve it. I was away killing off people without realising I was now stuck with a bunch of manic criminals who wanted to destroy the world. But me? I couldn't even raise my voice.. that it also made me stop using my mind! For what it had been finally used for without my true consciousness!" He clenched his hair and sat down, in a defeated state.

"I'm tired, Abbey.. I'm so tired.." He sobbed as he rubbed his whole face to wipe off the tears. "The KGB thinks I murdered our own General.. I lost Dimitri.. Adler wished if I was dead anyway.. and sure I gave him a lesson back there and showed him my new form.. but.. even after all that.. I still feel.. lost. Like all my roads ahead of me have been blocked. And I see nothing but.. darkness.. and the light faded before I could ever reach myself through it.." He smiles sadly. "Tells a lot.. maybe if.. Adler shot me back at the cliff.. all this suffering would have ended. And I would be at ultimate peace.. a-am I right, Abbey?"

STOP IT KHUSHI. STOP IT RIGHT NOW. STOP IT. YOU BETTER BE PAYING FOR MY THERAPY AFTER THIS CAUSE GIRL IM SOBBING. IM IN YOUR WALLS NOW 😭😭😭 I WILL GET BACK AT YOU FOR THIS! JUST YOU EFFING SEE. I CANT FUCKING STAND THESE TWO

SORRY FOR THE LATE RESPONSE!

Abbey reached out, almost about to put her hand on Vasili’s shoulder, but pulled away before it could make contact. Instead, Abbey took a deep breath. She was at a loss of words, tears welling up in her eyes. After a moment of silence, she swallowed and spoke.

“Don’t say that, Vin—Vasili.” She mentally cursed herself for that mistake.

“I know you’re tired, and you’re angry, and you’re hopeless, and you feel like everyone in the world hates you and is out to get you, but wallowing in your own self loathing… you’re gonna end up wasting your life away. The paths aren’t blocked by some other entity, Vasili, you’re blocking them.”

“Wasting away means they won. That they got rid of you without even trying. Adler and Park, the rest of them responsible for what happened to you, That’s what they want- it’s what our governments do. They lie, manipulate, screw your brain up beyond recognition, then make you blame yourself for cracking under circumstances nobody could withstand.” Abbey’s voice was quiet, but there was a sharp edge to her words. Her anger, though subtle, was still evident behind the words, albeit not towards Vasili.

Noticing that she was tense, her fist were clenched, and was ranting, Abbey stopped to take a breath. Abbey’s demeanor softened as she took a seat next to Vasili, taking in his defeated expression. She gently removed his hands from his face and held onto them as she continued to speak.

“Vasili, I lo- I care about you. It’s hard for you to believe, I know, but I’m not asking you to. You’ve had every opportunity to kill me, you didn’t. You could’ve sent us all to Duga, you didn’t.”

“What I’m saying is, you’re not a bad person. You’ve done unforgivable things in the past, I refuse to put you on a pedestal, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t capable of doing good.”

Abbey sighed, and held onto his hands tighter.

“If you ever feel like you’re alone or don’t have a place to go, you can always stay here. I don’t need a warning, and you don’t need to talk to me if you don’t want. I can sleep on the cot and you can take the air mattress; the cats might jump on you in the night so I’d keep that in mind. Jazzy and Blue expect you to feed them at dawn.” She chuckled, before letting go of Vasili’s hands.

“They love you, the cats. They really do.” Something we have in common.

Abbey fades out of existence. Bro’s hallucinating 😭😭😭

[boosqoowoo]

haon - chill (ft. the quiett) (english lyrics translation)

[Chorus: HAON] Chill (Chill) Chill (Chill out) Chill (Chill out) Chill (Yeah) 너네 왜 화났어 bro chill (Uh) Why are you guys angry bro chill (Uh) 너네 또 화났어 bro chill (Shh) Why are you guys angry bro chill (Shh) 너네 왜 화났어 bro chill (Chill) Why are you guys angry bro chill (Chill) 너네 또 화났어 like (Like, like) Why are you guys angry like (Like, like)

[Verse 1: HAON] 하나도 바뀌는 게 Not one thing has changed I’m not done with preaching 너넨 자꾸 편도체를 켜놔 (켜놔) You guys keep turning on your amygdala* *Amygdala is a small part of your brain and is a major processing center for emotions 아무런 말이나 뱉는 너네 system 안에 일으켜 보일 거야 난 변화 (Wow) 뼈와 살을 separate 바보들에게는 원래 필요해 물리치료가 (Huh) Physical therapy is originally made for fools who separate their flesh from their bones (Huh) 얘넨 또 밤을 네, 뇌에 나빠 난 낮에 너무 바빠서 쉬어가 (Shee) They spent the night again, it's bad for your brain, I'm too busy during the day to rest (Shee) 컨디션은 CEO Jay Park처럼 난 나의 boss My condition is like CEO Jay Park, I am my own boss* *Jay Park, one of the OGs in Korean hip-hop, is known for owning many labels, one of which was H1GHR Music which is Haon's ex-label Get complicated sometime my emote 두발은 움직여 mic 앞으로 record (Record) My two feet moving in front of the mic to record (Record) 걔넨 머리 쥐어뜯겠지만 give me 20 minutes 나와 신곡 머릿결의 비결 (Shee) They are tearing each other's hair out, but give me 20 minutes and I will show you the secret to good hair texture in my new song I don’t even need a air conditioner or some 내 머리엔 없어 fever There is no fever in my head These days rookies need a cold shower Stop spending your time on porn sites (Stop) 안 본 사람이 없다고 I know what you talkin' bout 'There's no one who hasn't seen it', I know what you talking about 그럼 생각해봐 그게 자랑스러운가 (Right) Well then think about it, is that something to be proud of? 너의 삶에 대한 불만 음악으로 들어 볼만하지 않아 it’s too fine (Too fine) Complaints about your life are not worth listening to as music, it's too fine 그걸 드러내는 순간 넌 투사가 아니게 되지 내 눈엔 불쌍 The moment you reveal that, you cease to be a fighter and are pitiful in my eyes I feel the way pity, pity 기도했어 난 did it, did it I feel the way pity, pity, I prayed already I did it, did it God, I love word 끼리끼리 I love my bros they feel it with me *끼리끼리 is a word to describe cliques/groups like 'birds of the same feather flock together' 내 이름이 돌아다녀 Billi Billi에 My name goes around on Billi Billi* *Billi Billi is a video-sharing website And I’m 'bout to get this money billion silly 내가 잘되는 게 ��� 불행이라면 너는 lucky charm 이 needy needy If it's your misfortune that I'm doing well, then you're a lucky charm, you needy needy 마련해 놔 미리 fivе years 아무 생각 없이 낭비했을 리가 Prepare it in advance, there’s no way I wasted five years without thinking* *Haon hadn't released an album in 5 years I don’t need a minute (Chill) Predicting, calculating 전부 다 머리 cold 할 때나 말이 되는 소리 (Chill) Predicting, calculating. It all makes sense when your head is cold (Chill) Thought I was changе or some inner peace in me boy 뒤로 더 물러서길 I wish you would back off 너의 화에 너가 다쳐 입 닥치길 화 안 났다니 그건 뭔 개소리 You got hurt by your anger so shut up. What kind of bullshit are you on saying that 'I'm not angry'? [Chorus: HAON] Chill (Chill) Chill (Chill out) Chill (Chill) Chill (Chill) 너네 왜 화났어 bro chill (Come on, come on) 너네 또 화났어 bro chill (Yeah) 너네 왜 화났어 bro chill (Chill out) 너네 또 화났어 bro chill

[Verse 2: The Quiett] Why you mad at me, I just live my life You don't know what I've been through Your fuckin' head I see through it It's yo fault, you fucked your life 너 빼고 모두가 봤지 Everyone saw it except you It was fun to watch 기다리고 있어 next episode It was fun to watch, I am waiting for the next episode 그러니까 keep doin' yo motherfuckin’ thang yo (Thang yo) That's why keep doin' yo motherfuckin’ thang yo (Thang yo) 내 앞날은 니거랑 차원이 달러 My future and yours are on dollar level In this motherfuckin' game I'm the best baller No matter what it is 난 너무 잘 넣어 yeah (Yeah, yeah) No matter what it is, I'm too good, yeah (Yeah, yeah) Too many blind motherfuckers in this bitch 그러니 쉴 틈 없이 I get that shit 난 안 들려 너희 languages So without a break, I get that shit, I can’t hear your languages 'Cause I never talk like that (Like that) Never walk like that (Like that) I never rap like that 골 빈 새끼들 읽어라 책 You empty-headed bastards, go and read a book King is comin' back boy you get ready for that Glory I rock steady for that 대체 몇 번째 back to back How many times back to back I don't fuckin' remember that, uh [Verse 3: HAON] Like how the fuck do I remember that? All this money that we manifested 머릴 차갑게 하는 게 main event Cooling your head* is the main event *Chill (verb) I meditated not an ice bucket 별이 다섯 개 my life 너넨 매말랐고 난 매일마다 seated on a chair Five stars my life, you guys are dry and I sit on a chair every day 난 펜을 잡던 덤벨을 잡던 결과를 내고선 really don’t care I hold a pen or a dumbbell, either one I get paid so I really don’t care Two-four-six (Two-four-six) 신이 나를 만들어낸 방식으로 일하고 eating good 포식 Working and eating good the way God created me I ain’t see any one of y’all lame ass on my table 기분은 cozy (Cozy) I feel cozy (Cozy) The Q 말씀 들었다면 펴라 책 right now 또 버려줘 고집 (고집) If you heard The Q, open the book right now, throw it away again, stubborn (stubborn) I throw that ball into a goal they trippin’

[Chorus: HAON] Chill (Chill) Chill (Chill out) Chill (Chill) Chill (Chill) 너네 왜 화났어 bro chill (Come on, come on) 너네 또 화났어 bro chill (Yeah) 너네 왜 화났어 bro chill (Chill out) 너네 또 화났어 bro chill

[h-f-k]

Thoughts on ttpd ?

THANK YOU lmao.

incoming long ass raaaaaaant, wohoooooo

(anon who also asked me about what i liked and disliked i hope this could answer your question as well!!)

I think i need to give a bit of context of my first thoughts on it back when it was released: i disliked it. i thought the lyrics were clunky, the productions was super meh, the album's topic of discussion was just also incredibly meh.

i decided to give it a second chance bc i kept seeing my friends talk about certain points that were interesting and i also wanted to listen to the album in peace without some random weirdo screaming that x song was about joe alwyn or matty heally or her current boyfriend trevor.

I think i will start with the things that changed for the better for me:

The album is good. I think it's definitely an improvement from midnights and i think this time there's kiiiiind of a clear direction and purpose behind it rather than being a collection of songs about specific topics that kept her up at night or whatever, which tbh that was incredibly random but ok. The pacing of the album felt good, it's not too long yet not too short, there's a good balance between the songs and even tho some of them have a very mid production they're still fine, i can vibe with them and i can listen to them (except but daddy i love him, that shit is unnecessarily long) if they come up on shuffle. I think lyric wise there are really strong moments, some very mid and others that are quite weak but still there's not a song that's terrible or unbearable to listen to.

Some of the production elements are really good, i LOVE the violent drums on florida, i would kill to hear that song live. And while the production of little old me reminds me A LOT to a florence + the machine song it's really really good, the cellos and the overall bass scratches a part of my brain and it's so good. Her vocals are also really good and i know it's not her strength but i'm glad she included a bit of harmonies with her own voice in so long london, it contrasts so well with the rest of the song (aaron dessner my beloved)

It's definitely a grower and to some that's a good thing, for others it's a bad thing and for some others it doesn't mean anything. TO ME is 50/50, i think there are many layers we can discover each time but i also feel like the album once you start peeling them it falls short which brings me to the negatives: __________

It's still quite a superficial album to me imo. i think the concept is quite solid and had SO much potential yet once again she chose the easy way which is diluting it so it's appealing to everyone, which is fine! but at the same time it leaves me with this feeling of wondering what this album could've been if she really committed to it, if she really dived into the tortured poet concept and translated that into the songs. It makes me wonder if she could've skipped the anthology and sort of blend all of that and make small interludes that could convey the same feeling and explore the same narratives. It could've added WAY more layers, bc she could've added spoken word versions of some poems (which is my problem with taylor in this era, a poem is not a song and a song is not a poem and it seems that taylor swift does not know the difference) like she does with seven during the intro of folklore!! that could've been SO cool and way more enriching for the overall concept she wanted to create. Aaron's brother Bryce composed some pieces for the album i think and i wish taylor could've take more advantage of that. Aaron and Bryce both composed beautiful pieces for the movie Cyrano and this album could've had some of that. I know her strength is lyrics but sometimes just because an album has a shit ton of lyrics doesn't necessarily make it good. I do like that he produced most of the songs from the anthology and i do really like some songs like the albatross, the prophecy and i hate it here but the rest is just there. Again, transform the general concept of the anthology intro interludes, or just adding interludes would've made everything way more exciting. To sum up: i liked the album and i will still like it if i don't really think much of what could've been, which i think is something that i will have to stick with with this current taylor which sucks lmao but oh well i have other artists i can listen to. I don't think i see myself going back to the album but i do see myself listening to the songs i really liked more than once, it's just good, it fits maybe in the middle of my ranking.

[warriors-rewritten-chaos]

Warriors Rewrite Story 2- An Unconventional Apprenticeship

 I wrote another short story from my rewrite’s universe! Hooray? This story is a bit of a time jump from the first one. I have more of these, but none of them are in order. I write the ideas as they come to me. 

In Onestar’s defense, utilizing the tunnels was a good idea. It would be a good way to hide vulnerable cats from the dangers of battle on the surface, launch surprise attacks on intruders, and even hunt for prey that hid during winter. All of WindClan agreed; the tunnels were to be the Clan’s newest weapon and tool for success. There was just one problem.

No cat sent under had been able to successfully navigate the tunnels except for Heatherpaw, Lionpaw (who was a ThunderClan cat besides), and Breezepaw, who had been using them for moons and even they weren’t sure as it was.

If getting turned around and completely lost wasn’t enough of an issue, it turned out there were even more problems than any cat had previously anticipated. Some of the tunnels were crumbling and in danger of collapsing, sometimes a cat would accidentally surface in another Clan’s territory (at one point in front of an entire ThunderClan patrol), snakes and even foxes were living in some areas, and to top all of this off, some cats who went down claimed to have heard disembodied voices calling out to them from the empty tunnels around them. 

“As if the tunnels weren’t bad enough before! Now they’re a gateway to the Dark Forest!” Onestar yowled miserably. Barkface sat resigned beside him, listening dutifully to his leader’s complaining. He kept himself sane by doing what he always did whenever Onestar came to him with complaints: reminded himself that the moment Kestrelpaw was able to succeed him, he could finally retire and not have to deal with any of Onestar’s hare-brained thoughts ever again. But in the present he was expected to give guidance, and so he did. “Onestar, I sincerely doubt they are a portal to the Dark Forest. They are however, clearly dangerous and will require much training to safely navigate.”

“And that is the problem!” Onestar exclaimed, his ears lowered in frustration. “The only cats able to even slightly navigate the tunnels are my daughter and Breezepaw, and they are young apprentices! Tell me Barkface, am I going to need apprentices to teach grown warriors how to do their job?!” Barkface sighed. “If only these tunnels had been discovered earlier...” Seeing Onestar’s confused expression, he continued. “In the old territories, there was a class of Warriors who specialized in tunneling. They stopped being utilized after a major accident occurred when Tallstar was an apprentice. He and some of the elders at the time may have been able to instruct on the practice. Unfortunately, all of those cats are dead now.”

Onestar’s eyes lit up and he immediately straightened himself. Barkface braced himself for whatever nonsense he was going to say next. “Barkface, you’re around Tallstar’s age!” And don’t I feel it, Barkface thought to himself. Onestar continued, “You must know at least a bit about tunneling!” 

Barkface shook his head sadly. “I was never a Tunneler or knew much of the practice. All I was taught was how to treat cats who were injured while tunneling. I truly wish I could be of more help Onestar, but it seems that the secrets of tunneling all belong to the stars now.”

Onestar let out a disappointed sigh. “Thank you anyway Barkface. Pleasant dreams, and may StarClan keep you.” “And to you as well.” With that, both cats went their separate ways to retire for the night.

However, Onestar’s sleep would not be so peaceful...

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When Onestar awoke from his sleep that night, he was in a place that he’d never been before. There was no light at all, and he was surrounded by what felt like... dirt? Am I in the tunnels? How did I get here? Why am I here? Is Barkface wrong and this really is a portal to the Dark Forest- OH STARCLAN AM I IN THE DARK FOREST-

Just then, there appeared a faint, flickering light from further down the tunnel in front of him. It was faint at first, but brightened as it kept moving closer and closer. Onestar had already turned to run when a deep, raspy voice called out to him. “Where exactly do you think you’re going, hare-brain?” Fearing the worst, Onestar slowly turned around to see a faded muscular tom with stars in his pelt. 

His shoulders sagged with relief. “Oh you’re a StarClan cat! I thought this was the Dark Forest!” The tom’s ears flattened even further (how was that even possible) before he spoke. “Why in the stars would you think this is the Dark Forest?! You're even dumber than you look!” Onestar felt increasingly embarrassed as the verbal beatdown went on. This was not how encounters with StarClan cats normally went, as far as he knew. He felt like he was back to being a kit scolded by his mother for messing up the Nursery. “I’m sorry... I’ve never been in a tunnel before-”

The tom immediately cut him off. “I know. It is incredibly obvious. And that’s why I have to teach you! I was retired before, obviously,” he said as he gestured at his starry fur, “but I had to come back to teach the fine and noble craft of tunneling to one more apprentice. My name is Sandgorse and from now on, kit, I’m your mentor!”

Onestar had never felt so terrified in his life.