fromronsperspective - Tumblr blog

fromronsperspective · 1 year

Note

ummm i have an idea for acotar smut ask 10 if you are comfortable writing something like this…gwynriel but gwyn teases az about trying anal 🫣perhaps they don’t commit to it but az goes a little feral by the thought

Smut prompts

"Don't tease me. You don't want to know what happens"

Hell yeah I'm comfortable with this. To make this a bit easier on all of us I'm going to set this in a modern AU, where they've been dating for a while and are very comfortable together.

This is your warning now to scroll on if ass play isn't your thing...

3... 2... 1...

---

One of Gwyn's favorite pastimes was teasing Azriel to the point of madness. He knew this well. It was evident in the tilt of her lips as she smirked at him, the glint of challenge in her eyes, urging him to lose control. The lilt in her voice that was always just on the edge of spilling into laughter...

Today, she was being a brat. An attempt to pull him out of a truly foul mood after he'd had an argument with his best friend.

"Aw," she pouted, flashing big teal eyes at him as her lashes fluttered. "Come on. Pleeeeease."

He held back a sigh, ignoring the way she'd purposely angled her body to show off every toned curve. She'd been trying to cajole him into turning off the gaming console and joining her in a game of cards. Strip poker, to be specific.

"Play with me," she purred, perching on his lap and leaning in so he could smell the heady scent of her perfume. The light notes of citrus and something earthy that reminded him of the water. His favorite of her collection of little glass bottles. One he knew she'd spritzed on with the sole intention of tempting him.

"Gwyn-" his sigh was almost a groan as he held his arms out to the side, trying very hard not to touch her as she maneuvered herself until she was leaning back against his chest.

She arched her back, rubbing her ass against him. Her lips pushed out into a pout as she looked up at him over her shoulder and said, in an exaggerated falsetto “Please, daddy? I’ll let you play with my ass.”

Azriel froze, his vision going a bit hazy. “Don’t tease me,” he said roughly. His hands were on her suddenly, his controller forgotten, as he gripped her hips tightly. He knew she was joking, but it had been a long running fantasy for him since the first time he’d gotten a look at her perfectly sculpted ass when they first met in Cassian's gym, and he’d been half terrified to bring up the subject with her. “You don’t want to know what happens.”

Gwyn paused, her eyes lighting up with interest. "Oh?" Gone was the 'innocent' facade she'd been sporting for the last few minutes as she wheedled him. "How intriguing. Are you saying you want to-"

"Gwyn," he said sharply. It was a warning that he was reaching the edges of his control and that she should tread carefully before she found herself in trouble. Not that she ever seemed to mind. He swore sometimes she wound him up for fun. Because she liked his form of punishment, he had no doubt. It drove him crazy in the best way.

"What?" she asked defensively. "It's a genuine question." From the furrow of her brows and slight thinning of her lips, he could tell that was true. She wasn't playing right now. "We've never really talked about it before. Our last discussion about our interests was when we first started seeing each other, I think we're over due."

She moved off of his lap then, turning sideways on the couch to face him and tucking one leg underneath her. With his heart racing, Azriel paused his game and set the controller aside, turning to face her as well. Well, I suppose we're doing this.

One of the things he both loved and loathed about Gwyn was that she never shied away from awkward or uncomfortable conversations. She faced everything with a frankness that sometimes made people uncomfortable, but he'd learned early on it was simply the academic in her, ever curious. At least, this was usually true until it came to her own issues. To an extent.

She usually preferred to work through her own problems in her own time, though she would not entirely avoid them when confronted, not like he tended to. She would blush, and hunch in on herself, and prevaricate, before eventually coming to the point. In his case, Gwyn had learned to poke and prod and generally aggravate him until he boiled over and it all came spilling out. In the end, he loved her for it. For not shying away from the darker parts of him.

Here goes nothing.

"So," Gwyn began, tucking her hair behind her ears in a way that told him they were in for a long conversation. "I think we've done a fair bit of exploring together..."

She paused here and he nodded, knowing she wanted some sort of acknowledgement. It was true. Gwyn had only been with one man when he'd met her, and though she'd been shy about it at first, she had gradually opened up to him, putting her trust and her body in his hands as he showed her all the ways he'd learned to give and receive pleasure. She was, as with everything else, a willing an eager student, and he was all too happy to teach.

"But perhaps there are things you've wanted to try that you've maybe been afraid to ask for?"

He rolled his eyes at her not so subtle probing but agreed. "Perhaps."

"Would you perhaps like to discuss them now?" she asked, blinking those ocean eyes at him. He could drown those depths. Happily. "No judgment," she continued, attempting to appear nonchalant though he could see the curiosity burning in her. "Cards on the table, you tell me what you've been thinking about and we can discuss."

Azriel arched a brow, smirking as he watched her squirm under his gaze. Folding his arms, he leaned back against the couch, deciding to give her back some of the teasing she liked to dish out so well.

"Perhaps there's something you'd like share with the class, Gwyneth?" A blush started up her neck, though she gave a valiant attempt at keeping her expression neutral.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Oh?" Azriel leaned forward, rising up on his knees as Gwyn bent backwards beneath him, letting him tower above her. He could see the way her chest rose and fell unevenly, could almost smell her arousal as he leaned in close. "I think you like that idea."

"What idea?" she asked breathlessly.

"Of letting me play with your ass." He watched as the blush crept up her face into her cheeks. "You do, don't you?"

She tilted her chin defiantly as his smirk grew. "No judgment," he said, feeding her words back to her. "Cards on the table. You tell me what you've been imagining, and we'll discuss it."

She scoffed, laying her hands on his chest to prevent him from getting any closer. "Oh please, don't act like you don't want the same thing."

"Oh, I'm not denying it." Bracing his weight above her with one hand, he allowed the other to drift over her body, slipping under her hoodie and over her leggings until he found the small patch of skin between her bra and waistband. She shivered. "I want to hear you say it."

She scowled and he laughed. "Aw," he teased, sliding a thumb under the band of her bra and brushing it along the underside of her breast. "Come on. All you have to do is admit it, and if you're that curious, I even have some toys you can play with."

This peaked her interest. "Oh? Az..." the sly grin she gave him told him he'd misstepped somewhere and she about to pounce. "Are you saying you want me to peg you?"

Azriel jerked back, blinking down at her in bewilderment. "What?" How had they gotten from talking about his toy collection to pegging?

She blinked up at him, the picture of innocence one more. "Well, since I know, by your own admission, that you haven't been with anyone else since well before you met me- and you've told me before that you find other men attractive... I can only assume these toys you speak of are for you... The prostate is a very sensitive-"

Azriel spluttered, simultaneously aroused and confused. He'd be lying if he said he hadn't at least considered it. Gwyn's next words had so much blood rushing to his cock he suddenly felt dizzy.

She tapped a finger to the lips as though she were thinking hard. "I don't think I own much leather, but I'm sure I could manage the role of dominatrix if you'd like to take a spin in the sub seat."

Stars above. He cleared his throat, trying hard to ignore the heat creeping up the back of his neck. "That is not where I was going with this conversation-"

"And yet, you're not denying it," she pointed out.

He narrowed his eyes as she failed to hold back a giggle. "Brat."

"You love it," she said, her voice lowering to a soft, velvety tone that made him want to fall to his knees at her feet.

They were getting off track. "Put a pin in that idea for now."

She grinned. "Do you like the idea of me dominating you?"

"Not what we are discussing right now," he gritted out, no longer able to hide the color warming his face.

Gwyn grinned but rolled her eyes and nodded for him to continue. "Fine, tell me about your collection of butt toys." He chose to ignore that.

"I need you to be honest with me," he said. "Because it's long been a fantasy of mine... Are you interested in that? In anal play?"

The blush that had returned to her face told him the answer, but he waited to hear her admit it.

"Maybe?"

"It's a yes or no question, Gwyn."

"Yes...?"

"That still sounds like a question."

"Yes," she repeated more firmly.

"Is this a new development?" he asked curiously. He wanted to know if she'd been thinking about this as long as he had.

"Sort of?" She shrugged. "Nesta lent me one of her books a couple of weeks ago. It was a why choose romance and it proposed some... interesting ideas."

"Did it now?" he raised a brow. "Please don't tell me you're about to ask if we can bring someone else home with us."

Her eyes widened comically. "No! No, no, nothing like that. But it did make me curious- what that would feel like."

Azriel cocked his head to the side. "Are you talking about double penetration?"

"Is that what you call it? I suppose that makes sense. Well, then yes. That."

"Well, I can already tell you you're not ready for that."

Teal eyes flashed indignantly at him and he laid a finger over her lips before she could argue. "I say that as a point of your safety and comfort," he explained. "Not an insult to your skills... such as they are."

"Anal alone takes some amount of 'training' to get used to. Not to mention a lot of patience when you're first beginning. DP is, let's say, advanced level."

She narrowed her eyes as he pulled his hand away. "Well what do you suggest then, oh wise one?"

He gave her a cheeky grin. "I mentioned my toy collection, yes?" She rolled her eyes.

"What do you say?" he asked, lowering himself until they were nose to nose. "Are you going to let me play with that luscious ass of yours?"

She hesitated only a moment before replying “…I am not calling you daddy.”

Azriel shivered even as he laughed. “Please don’t. That’s Rhys’ kink”

“I really did not need to know that about my boss.”

Azriel chuckled, rising to his feet and pulling her along with him. She squealed at the sudden movement, wrapping her legs around his waist while he carried her to the bedroom. Setting her down, he eyed her clothes. "Strip."

Her smile froze. "Wait. You want to start now?"

"No time like the present." He paused. "Unless you've changed your mind? You can say if you're not ready."

"N-no."

"No... what?"

He watched as determination filled her eyes and she raised her chin in a familiar gesture. "I'm ready."

"Then strip," he said, swapping the blanket on the bed for a water proof one. "And lie face down."

When he turned back to his closet to find the chest full of toys they'd only just begun to explore, he saw her still staring at him. "Don't make me repeat myself Gwyn," he warned. "You've already tried my patience enough for the day, don't you think?"

He smiled as he heard the rustling of fabric behind him and the slight creak of his mattress as she hurried to obey. As much as she enjoyed his punishments, he knew she liked the pleasure far more than the pain.

Having found what he wanted, he moved around until he was standing where she could see him and laid out his selections one by one in front of her. A pair of latex gloves, a small bottle of oil, a large bottle of thick lubricant, and a selection of three graduated plugs. He watched her eyes widen and then darken as she swallowed audibly.

"You know the rules. If you want to stop you say-"

She dutifully repeated her safe word and he rewarded her with a soft caress across her cheek. "Good girl."

Taking up the gloves he put them on one at a time with exaggerated motions, snapping them slightly to expel any air. She squirmed against the sheets as her eyes followed the movement. "Ready?" he asked, picking up the bottle of oil.

She nodded slowly. "Yes."

He was sure his grin was as devilish as she'd ever seen it as he flicked open the cap and moved around behind her once more. "Let's begin."

---

I could def continue this but it would absolutely be explicit and would likely be posted exclusively to AO3 if I do decide to continue it.

68 notes · View notes

fromronsperspective · 2 years

Text

📖: 𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑮𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 (𝑇𝑤𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑 #2) 🏰👩🏼‍🎓🐈

✍🏽: 𝐀𝐧𝐚 𝐇𝐮𝐚𝐧𝐠

432 notes · View notes

fromronsperspective · 2 years

Text

Hi, it has been 12 hours and I am still not over Daemon Targaryen, the Rogue Prince, Bane of the Seven Kingdoms, Chaos Gremlin of the First Order, helping his brother to the throne he has been accused of trying to steal over and over again and placing his crown back on Viserys's head.

I am emotional.

113 notes · View notes

fromronsperspective · 2 years

Text

The sexiest thing Harwin said was at the end of the argument with his father, something like "I have my own idea of honor"

And you know what it is ???

His idea of honor is staying beside the woman he loves, no matter what, no matter the risks. It's raising and passing on his values and loving his kids even if they don't know that he is their father. It's loving Rhaenyra and their three boys silently. Harwin doesn't need any witness for his paternal love or good actions. He knows in his heart that staying with his family is honourable and no tradition, law or prejudice could convince him otherwise.

Crispin Coleslaw would never

4K notes · View notes

fromronsperspective · 2 years

Text

Magnus to Alec

Dear delectable muffin of love,

I hope this perfumed letter finds you well, and that you and R and M are having an excellent time in your exotic journey to…well, I believe the term you used was “upstate.” I have heard legends of this Upstate[JL1] , but never did I know that my family would see for themselves its mountains, its twee farm markets, its River of the Son of Hud.

More to the point, I hope the kids are enjoying their visit with Grandma, and I hope you are referring to Maryse as “Grandma” as often as possible because I enjoy the face she makes when we do. On a less pleasant but more urgent note, I hope you’ve had a chance to talk with Luke about the Cohort/Idris stuff.

But do not tire your beautiful hands with a written reply. I will be heading to this “Upstate” myself to join you later this afternoon, as I am relieved to report that the business with the Blackthorn kids’ cursed house is more or less resolved. Although it was touch and go, let me tell you.

I don’t think I even showed you the note Jem sent, which said, “Emma and Julian are trying not to bother you about their house, and that is very nice of them, but unlike them, I feel absolutely no compunction about bothering you, and so this is me, now, in this note, bothering you. We are in need of a warlock and you are the best one I know for this. We would all really appreciate your help.”

As is often the case, I was both mildly annoyed and mildly impressed with Jem, who managed to be both very kind and also to remind me that I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa and will rush to their aid when I can. Because I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa, I wrote back quickly saying I would come.

I know what you’re thinking: “How could Tessa need a warlock when she is a warlock?” But different warlocks have different expertises, as you know, and while Jem was flattering me that I was the best choice, the reality is that I have dealt with a lot more curses than Tessa. That’s what comes of spending the past decades hiring your services out to any miscreants who come by, instead of more intelligently living a calm life as a magic researcher in the Spiral Labyrinth. Tessa always was the smartest of us.

Anyway, I must give Emma and Julian credit. I expected to arrive and find them banging the cursed objects against one another or something, but they had set up a decent enough protective circle and even found a spell. It was an old, kind of generic spell that I have found to rarely be of much use with actual curses in the modern day, but still.

Rather stupidly I set up a basic workaday curse-breaking circle of my own, and gave it a try. “Stupidly” because I had forgotten who did the curse in the first place. Your worst ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, all-around demon enthusiast and dilettante necromancer. How in bed with demons was Benedict? He literally died of demon pox — which if you do not know, because you are beautifully pure, my Alec — is a sexually transmitted demon disease.

But I forgot that in the moment, so I was surprised when the curse put up an impressive resistance. It writhed and thrashed and struck out, like Max being lowered into a bath. The cursed objects were all glowing, kind of neon green, where they were tied to the magic, and eventually I realized I was going to have to carefully unknot each object from the curse, one at a time.

I managed the flask, the dagger, and one of the candlesticks (don’t ask me to explain how THAT happens), but after that I was stuck.

It’s not a great look for a warlock to strike a big magic pose and then nothing happens. I am sure I looked ridiculous, like a mundane magician who couldn’t understand why the rabbit wasn’t coming out of the hat. Julian and Emma are very polite and only waited patiently but I felt quite silly.

And then I lost all my focus temporarily because the door opened and Kit walked in. He sort of looked around at the scene and finally said, “Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick, I see.”

“Purple is always an appropriate color for a warlock,” I said. “It is the decorative color of magic.”

Emma, of course, said, “Your magic is blue,” because she is an inveterate smartass.

“Maybe he meant me,” said Julian. “I’m wearing a purple hoodie. Also because it is the decorative color of magic,” he added with a nod in my direction, which I appreciated.

“Maybe you could put the objects on a purple tablecloth instead of a white one,” Kit said, and while he was talking he walked out to get a closer look.

And when he got close to the circle, Alec, I felt the strangest sensation. A feeling of…power, I suppose, kind of humming in Kit. You know the way your body kind of vibrates when there’s a really really low sound? That rumbling feeling? It was like that, but silent. I’ve never had that experience any of the times I’ve seen Kit before. I could also tell that Kit didn’t feel anything unusual. Or if he did, he was surprisingly casual about it.

So I suggested he come join us around the circle and add his focus to the magic. “Especially since Jem and Tessa have snuck off somewhere rather than helping out with this round.”

“They’re out in the garden with Mina,” Kit said, a little defensively.

I redirected everyone’s attention to the objects and established a somewhat souped-up version of my go-to curse breaker. I went for the other candlestick and BANG. No resistance anymore! There was a big burst of blue and all the knots of magic tying the objects to the curse broke into pieces.

Everyone blinked a bunch. Eventually I said something like, “Well, that was more what I was hoping for. I guess four people made the difference.”

I checked. The curse seemed…gone. I was actually a little shaken. I haven’t mentioned it to Tessa and Jem, because I don’t want to make a big deal of it, but I think it worked because of Kit. Not because we needed a fourth person. Something is going on with him, some magic that is totally outside his awareness. I assume it has something to do with being a descendant of the First Heir, but I’ve never been an expert on that kind of faerie enchantment. (And do burn this letter, after you get it — very few of us know about Kit being the First Heir, and it’s best if we keep it that way.)

It makes me sad to think of it. Kit is a good kid who deserves a good, ordinary life. I know that’s what Jem and Tessa want for him, more than anything, after the chaos that was his growing up. But I am not sure he will have a choice in the matter. Fae may not let him choose.

Julian reached out and took hold of the flask. He held it for a moment, frowning.

“What?” said Emma.

“Nothing,” Julian said. He looked up at me. “Is that it? No more curse?”

“No more curse,” I said. “I hope.”

And then down from the ceiling drifted Rupert the Ghost. I never met Rupert Blackthorn when he was alive. I don’t know what to think of him. On the one hand, he seems to have been an innocent who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a spirit trapped in a house he never lived in because of evil he never knew about while he lived. On the other hand, he met Tatiana Lightwood and thought that lady seems like marriage material, so there must have been something weird going on with him.

Rupert had been hovering and he descended until he was right above the table. He was staring at something on it.

“What is it, Rupert?” said Emma. “What are you looking at?”

Kit followed his gaze and started pushing the objects out of the way. “It’s the ring,” he said.

Emma said, “What ring?”

Indeed, what ring? There wasn’t a ring among the cursed objects. But there was a ring on the table now. Kit picked it up. It was a gold ring, etched with a design of thorns and set with a black stone.

“Blackthorn family ring?” Kit said.

“It’s not how family rings usually look,” Emma said.

“Wedding band?” said Kit.

“Shadowhunters don’t use wedding rings,” said Emma, but Julian had that thoughtful look he gets.

“I am bound here by a silver band,” he said softly.

“Shadowhunters can exchange wedding rings,” I said. “They just aren’t expected to. But they can if they want.”

Whatever it was, it was Rupert’s. He had followed Kit’s hand as it picked up the ring, and now he was reaching out for it with a thin ghostly hand. He wrapped it around the ring, which did absolutely nothing since he’s a ghost – Kit just kind of held it there for him. Then his eyes closed (Rupert’s, I mean) and he got this expression on his face of relief and gratitude and peace, and he just…faded out, right there. Just slowly vanished and was gone. No more Rupert. On to hopefully not being reunited with his wife, since she was also his jailer for over a hundred years.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Emma said quietly.

“That’s for the best,” I said. “He was never supposed to be here at all.”

“Well, Rupert, if you can hear me,” said Emma, “it was nice being haunted by you.”

“Five stars,” said Kit solemnly, putting the ring back on the table. “Would be haunted again.”

And all the candles went out in the room at once. Which, if it was Rupert, was a nice touch. Though it may have just been a draft.

We all filed out of the room quietly. “It’s different,” Julian said. He was looking around at the hallway. “I can feel it already.”

I could feel it as well. There was a lightness that had not been there. A kind of pleasant hominess that a good house conveys and that had always been absent from Blackthorn Hall in the time I’ve known it. It’s hard to describe, but all at once it felt like Julian and Emma’s home, in a way it hadn’t before. I’ve always known it as a forbidding place, and then as a hideous ruin, but for the first time I thought, this was a place the Blackthorns could fill with joy.

And I’m certain they will.

See you very soon, my love. I shall kiss you until a toddler forces us apart to pay attention to him. So plan for a kiss of about 30-60 seconds, based on previous experience. But I wish, as always, that it could be endless.

Love,

Magnus

4K notes · View notes

fromronsperspective · 2 years

Text

5K notes · View notes

fromronsperspective · 2 years

Text

Gray family

4K notes · View notes

fromronsperspective · 2 years

Text

gwyn, nesta and emerie 🖤

2K notes · View notes

fromronsperspective · 2 years

Text

Emma to Bruce

Dear Bruce,

Bruce, Bruce, Bruce. Will I keep writing to you when all these renovations are done? When things have returned to some form of normalcy? Or is normalcy over—is the crack in the Nephilim world one that can’t be healed but will only widen over time, with more and more changes, until finally there is too much change to bear? In which case I guess I will keep writing to you, Bruce, as a kind of silent witness to the strangeness of these times.

Sorry, sorry. I am feeling a little poetic tonight because Jem and Tessa and Kit and Mina arrived today and…well, that’s just kind of how Jem and Tessa talk. Being, you know. Way old. And because it feels like all this business with the cursed house is in its final chapters and I don’t have any idea how things are going to be after that.

In any event we didn’t do anything about the curse today, we just ended up visiting with the Carstairs-Herondales, who should definitely pick a shorter name we can use for them. Team Victorian Era? Team Time When Everything Was Very Romantic But It Took Forever To Get Anywhere? Hm. I guess I’ll ask them for ideas, since mine are, uh, bad.

There was some complication right when they arrived. We had picked out a couple of bedrooms for them to use and asked the brownies to make them up with sheets and towels and all that. And then we checked them before the guests arrived and I’m glad we did because the faeries had made up all the rooms for…birds? Like, for huge, person-sized birds. Big nests of sticks, six feet across, and branches to perch on. And big balls of birdseed hanging from the ceiling. So we had to ask them to redo the rooms and the brownies looked so disappointed. (But we didn’t say the guests were birds! I have no idea why they thought that!) The worst part is they did a really nice job, like, if we were being visited by giant birds they would have been very comfortable. They still seemed puzzled when everyone did show up that Mina wasn’t a big egg. Faeries, man.

Speaking of Mina, who is not a big egg but rather a small toddler, she is extremely cute. She is walking now, or toddling, I guess, and she says “mama” and “dada” and also “kish” which apparently is what she calls Kit. And she has a little wooden toy stele that she is constantly trying to scribble on everyone with. Apparently Kit has been learning runes and Mina wants to learn them too.

We should have just gone straight into curse-breaking but to be honest we were just having a very nice time hanging out. Tessa and Jem are very easy to spend time with, which is nice given how high-strung most of our other friends are. I suppose once you’ve gone through all the stuff that has happened to them, it takes a lot to upset you. Just the way Jem talks about the curse makes me feel more reassured that we’ll be able to fix it, even though we don’t really know what we’re doing or what’s gone wrong so far.

They seem really impressed by the house, also, which makes Julian look all proud of himself in a highly adorable way. Tessa said the last time either of them were here was after Tatiana was arrested and sent to be an Iron Sister, and they were searching it for demon stuff. (Most of which, she admitted, they clearly didn’t find. It seems obvious from the way she talks that they didn’t understand how dangerous Tatiana really was until it was too late—I really want to ask her about that but it seemed a dark topic while we were all having a good time.) Jem said by that time it was already in pretty bad shape, but Tessa said she saw the house once “in its prime” at a ball, and then she blushed a little. Whatever happened during that ball must have been pretty impressive if she’s blushing about it 130 years later!

Of course there’s still that overall shroud of heavy memory that kind of hangs over the place, and no amount of new paint and replaced windows can help that. That’d be the curse, of course. Still, it felt cheerier this evening than it ever has before. For the first time I felt a little like it was our house and friends had come to visit and it was surprisingly nice and ordinary. As long as I don’t think about what’s going on with the Clave.

Also a concern: Kit. He was hanging out with us most of the day, but he was really quiet, for him, and a couple of times he excused himself to go take a walk in the garden. Julian said he thinks Kit broke up with his girlfriend and maybe he’s sad about that, but I don’t know. He was really jumpy whenever any of the builders were around, and kept a close eye on them anytime they were nearby. Round Tom introduced himself and Kit nodded, but he didn’t say his name or much of anything else. I mean, you can hardly blame him. His relationship to faeries, and Faerie itself, is complicated. According to Tessa, Cirenworth is very tightly warded against faerie incursions, and even the town and the roads nearby are protected. Magnus and Catarina made sure of it. So this would be one of the first times he’s been around faeries since the big battle outside Alicante; even though these faeries are safe, it must be weird for him.

But you know Kit. He has this aura about him like he doesn’t want to answer any questions about how he’s doing. Today he’s been out front, watching the faeries in the garden — it could be he’s worried about them, or maybe he wants to join them? I don’t know. Maybe Julian or I can get him to open up a little while he’s here. Or maybe I’ll get a moment to ask Jem or Tessa if they know what’s up.

Anyway, that’s all from me for now, Bruce. Tomorrow we break a curse! I hope!

Emma

3K notes · View notes