#Couldn't resist writing the story of how their romance starts

[thatonebirdwrites]

Korrasami prompt: Romance

Asami derives the idea of dating Korra after she gives Korra her first driving lesson.

"I never had a girlfriend before," Korra says after they clear the air about Mako. However, Korra strangely follows it up with a quick, 'except Naga.' 

Asami is left pondering what Korra means for several days.

Is Korra saying she is in a romantic relationship with her polar bear dog? Or does she not know the full meaning of the term girlfriend?

Asami assumes the latter. The former is too strange and disturbing for her to dare let lose on her far too vivid imagination.

So Asami endeavors to teach Korra what girlfriend means. Her plan involves first approaching the subject to gather data, next she will implement her 'date Korra' strategy, and finally romance will blossom and grow into a happy ending. It is surely a fool-proof plan.

She tries approaching the subject subtlety, by asking if Korra enjoys going out on the town. (She does.) If Korra enjoys flowers (if there's food involved). What Korra is looking for in a romantic partner (someone badass who can keep up with her).

Asami hopes this gives Korra a clue she's interested.

It doesn't. Korra instead calls them delightful chats with a friend.

It's a trifle frustrating.

She decides perhaps gifting Korra something magnificent will help. Since her first airship, that she designed herself, was completed by the time airbenders started appearing, Asami decides this is the moment of truth.

Korra is elated. Then calls her the bestest friend one could have.

Asami is a trifle discouraged, but she is if anything relentless when she sets her sights on a goal.

Her next attempt involves offering Korra dinner in Omashu. Surely a candlelight dinner at a noodle restaurant will do the trick?

Korra tells the brothers, and they crash the attempted date. Her only solace is Korra sitting next to her, their legs practically touching. Asami does her best to make Mako as uncomfortable as possible. (She still hasn't forgiven him for refusing to tell Korra he broke up with her when Korra had partial amnesia. Nor for leading Asami and Korra on during that time. Plus making him squirm amuses her.)

Perhaps the right combination of flowers, noodles, and tickets to a musical in Zaofu would work as a clue?

Instead, Korra calls that a girl's night out and drags Opal and Jinora along, which Asami doesn't mind, but it defeats her plan of a romantic night that hopefully ends with a kiss.

Her next tactic involves borrowing a jeep in Zaofu to go for a picnic in the mountains.

That somehow ends with Korra challenging her to a sparring match, of which Asami wins.

Honestly, why she doesn't kiss Korra the moment she pins her to the grass leaves Asami frustrated with herself. Surely that would clue Korra into her attempts at romance? (Her nervousness at the possibility of a kiss ruining the fun she's having with Korra is what stops her.)

All of this is before Zaheer. Before the poisoning.

Before Asami fights her way to the airbenders, before she picks the locks on their chains, before Asami is tempted to zap Zaheer's head to shut him up, before Asami panics over whether Korra will live or not.

Taking care of Korra is the role Asami assigns herself. She insists on it.

Tonraq takes her aside on the airship to Zaofu. "Are you sure, Asami?" He looks concerned.

Asami nods. "I am sure. I will stay at her side as long as she has me."

Tonraq smiles at her and grasps her shoulder. "I'm glad she has you."

Asami considers this a sad victory. She has won the approval of Korra's father, even if Korra herself doesn't view her in a romantic way.

So Asami tirelessly and selflessly stays at Korra's side those few weeks in Zaofu and Air Temple Island. She helps Korra bathe and dress. Brushes and does her hair. Helps her into the wheelchair. Takes her outside to breathe fresh air at times. Reads books out loud to her to help her fall asleep. Tucks her in at night. (She is tempted to kiss Korra's temple each time. One night she gives in and does so.)

In the end, Korra decides to head South to see Katara.

Asami doesn't think twice. She offers to relocate South with Korra and aid in her recovery. She doesn't say the truth out loud to Korra -- that doing so would mean giving up everything she has in Republic City if Korra's stay in the South turns out to be more long-term, but Asami doesn't care.

Korra is what matters to her far more than anything else. That is when she realizes that she is hopelessly in love.

"No," Korra says that day at the docks, "I appreciate it, but I'll only be gone a couple of weeks. A little alone time will likely be good for me." Korra sounds dejected. Her entire frame droops forward, and she stares at her motionless feet. Asami squeezes her shoulders and accepts Korra's words.

The rejection stings, but Asami does her best to stay supportive. Korra is in pain. She's depressed. Likely doesn't know what to do with that request.

So Asami endeavors to write Korra often.

At first, she doesn't know quite what to write. Asami chews on the end of her pen and glares at the empty paper in front of her. Obviously, she can't just say, "Korra, I love you ,and I hope you feel my love across the distance, so that you know you're not alone."

That seems presumptuous and possibly too heavy.

Instead, she decides the best way to handle the situation would be to share about her day and how she feels about that.

Her first letter is written a week after Korra left for the South:

Dear Korra,

I never know how to start a letter, so I will jump into exactly how this day is going. At this moment, I sit at my desk within my office at Future Industries. Before me lies a large stack of paperwork that requires my review and signatures. I do not look forward to this. If someone had warned me that being CEO means mountains of paperwork, I might have stolen a plane and flown off into the sunset instead. But alas, I must do my duty and will do my best to survive. Wish me luck!

It is now close to lunchtime, the mountain of paperwork half done, but my break was sadly not at all interesting. I had several meetings this afternoon, except, Korra, have I mentioned how boring older men are? No hint of humor, dry blandness, and sterile suits that look like they bought new that day. Is that how they spend their salaries? What do they do with the old suits? Recycle them? Put them on display in the world's ugliest museum? I must listen and speak with authority, otherwise these egotistical and horribly uncreative duds would refuse to recognize that I am the CEO not them. So I've learned two dozen ways to politely tell them how terrifically awful their ideas for the company truly are.

Have I mentioned that they have no color sense? Who puts blue and orange together on a tie? It looked like a glaring florescent sign like those we saw in Ba Sing Se's Middle and Lower Rings.

After those meetings, I escape to the factories. There I am able to work alongside my employees. Perhaps the best part of the day. I inspect the lines, repair sections that failed to work, and assist newly hired employees with the finer details of construction. Walking and working with my employees like this makes me look more human to them. Like I'm approachable. I don't ever want to be that CEO that lives in some ivory tower and fails to offer their employees living wages and benefits to help them thrive.

Actually, one of workers on the line reminds me of you. She's from the Southern Water Tribe but a nonbender. She was so excited to meet me and had some excellent ideas about engine efficiency. I took her aside and we worked on an engine to test a few of her ideas, and I dare say, they worked! I am giving her a raise, and she's now on one of our engineering teams working to make her designs a reality. I love moments like that.

That actually gives me an idea. Since we are badly in need of sales still to break even, why not help get our name out in a good way? I'm going to set up community forums in the Dragonflats and Water Boroughs to teach engineering to anyone interested for free. Longer courses will be available at a very low price. Way cheaper than the university is my goal, maybe for the price of a noodle bowl once a month? We'll have a repair garage attached to the forums, and students can work with our engineers on repairs to see how it's done. What do you think?

I better close this up else I write you a novel!

Love, Asami

It's the word 'love' that has Asami hesitating on sending it, but in the end, she figures it can't hurt. Maybe if she's more blatant about her feelings Korra will eventually understand that Asami has been trying to date her this whole time. At the very least, the word will hopefully provide a comforting reminder that Korra is indeed loved. Asami desperately hopes Korra understands that truth.

She will gladly remind her with each salutation to her letters.

There is no reply to her initial letter, but this doesn't deter Asami. If anything, it makes her more determined. She decides on a schedule, sets time aside for updating the letter throughout the day, and a time to send it.

She determines that two times a week can suffice at first. If her schedule becomes too intensive with the rebuild Republic City project, then she will downgrade to once a week. She will not stand for less than once a week however.

Months pass, but Korra doesn't reply to her letters. At this point, it becomes a habit. She writes the letters and starts to become more free in what she says. At first, Korra's mother replies with a thank her for the letters, but that stops on month three.

By month seven, Asami wonders if something is wrong with the mail system. Maybe her letters are getting lost? Does she have the right address? She verifies with Tenzin, who offers to call Tonraq. Asami sits in on that call and learns that Korra hasn't written anyone back. In fact, she's closed in on herself.

This worries Asami.

Is there a way she can still help despite Korra's refusal to allow anyone close?

She decides to keep her schedule. It helps ease her own worry to write, and maybe the steadiness of her letters will aid Korra somehow too.

Part of this decision hinges on a conversation she had with Korra on the airship:

---

"Tenzin's schedules got no room for fun!" Korra throws her hands into the air, frustrated.

Asami leans against the balcony railing next to Korra. The wind blows her black hair backward, like a cape. "If you built the schedule, what would it look like?"

Korra looks startled. "Oh. Hmmm, maybe time for Naga, meditation, I guess we ought to do some airbending practice.... Ugh, okay, I'm terrible at them." She smiles, sheepishly. "I lose track of the time and day a lot. Easily get caught up in doing stuff, and then whoops, I failed to go to meditation or whatever."

Asami tilts her head and studies Korra. The sunlight on Korra's skin highlights the gorgeous copper undertones, and a hint of sweat glistens the hairline of Korra's chestnut-colored hair. Her wolftails dance with the touch of the wind. Asami simply cannot get enough of looking at Korra's bulging muscles, the curve of her breasts, or her deliciously muscular thighs.

This is not helpful for Korra. Asami blinks and focuses on Korra's eyes instead. "Did Tenzin start building schedules because of that then?"

Korra sighs. "Probably." Her blue eyes meets Asami's green, and for a moment, Asami's breath hitches in her throat. So unfair how utterly beautiful Korra looks all the time. "How do you manage it?"

Asami can't think the longer she looks into Korra's eyes. Her brain refuses to function. Instead she thinks only of how Korra's lips might taste. She forces herself to look at the mountains below them, while she grips the cold metal of the balcony tighter.

"Being CEO, I have to abide by a schedule, and honestly, I had one my entire life. Even as a child. So I am used to drafting one for each day. I made one for today actually."

"Really? Was our talk part of that?" Korra asks.

Asami blushes. "I always leave space on my schedule for you. I call it the spontaneity with Korra hour."

Korra grins. "Really?"

"Yes." Asami says, firmly. "It's what I call a floating hour. My schedules aren't as strict as Tenzin's. I tend to have one thing that cannot be altered, that item grounds my day, then I build up the tasks that need to be done and set them around that root. I need to be flexible since emergencies can and often do happen."

"Oh, you know, I like that. Having one thing that roots everything else, and float the other stuff around it." Korra taps her chin. "Maybe I can convince Tenzin to adapt to that."

Asami laughs. "Good luck. He seems as stubborn as you."

Korra crosses her arms over her chest. "Stubborn? I'm not stubborn. I'm...." She struggles to find a word, only to sigh and slump against the balcony's railing. "All right, you got me."

The next day, Asami makes it her goal to find a root to help anchor Korra. This becomes more urgent when she listens to Korra complain of her failed attempt to convince Tenzin. Asami takes it upon herself to soften him to the idea, until he gives in and tasks her with making the schedules. (Korra sees the newly pinned schedules as her finally convincing Tenzin, and Asami doesn't have the heart to correct this.)

---

So Asami continues to write weekly to Korra. Perhaps this root will help stabilize things for Korra? She hopes so.

A year passes with no reply. Asami is frustrated, worried, and grieving. She wonders if it was something she said or did. Maybe Korra hates her letters?

On the day of Asami's birth, one year and two months after Korra left, Asami fails to write her weekly letter.

Instead, after work, she buys several bottles of whiskey and drives to the mansion. She parks far from the entrance to avoid being seen my Mako's family. The sun sets to a glaze of red and gold, stars start to shine in the night sky, and Asami glances at it and feels only despair.

She unlocks the workshop that holds the entrances to her father's hateful underground factory, steps inside, and locks the door behind her. The room has not changed since that fateful day she turned on her father. The floor is still ripped up above the trap doors, and the shelves are still full of workshop supplies. She opens the trap doors. The darkness of the factory looms like the maw of a hideous mouth. A suitable mockery of her birthday she supposes. She sits on the steps and drinks the whiskeys, wallowing in grief.

Her company still struggles to make sales. Although the construction projects are going well, the city rarely meets its financial obligation in their contract. This makes it difficult to pay her workers, and she has decides to take only ten percent of her usual salary and bonuses in order to make sure all her workers are paid a living wage no matter what. In turn, she dips deep into her remaining savings to keep up with the taxes on her estate, the upkeep of her satomobile, and the cost of her new penthouse she'd bought three months prior.

For her friends and loved ones, their lives deviate from her own in painful ways. She receives nothing from Korra. Bolin leaves to assist Kuvira. Mako dives headfirst into investigator work, and the Air Nation works hard to help people all over the world.

Asami feels cut off and lost. She drinks an entire bottle of whiskey, and tosses the bottle down the stairs. It clatters against the wall and shatters on the bottom step. She uncaps the next bottle and raises it in a toast.

"To the eternal autumn that is the Sato name! Grief and despair seems to be our fate. May this one day be broken."

She drinks that bottle too and throws it.

It shatters on the third step.

She calls in sick to work to recover from the epic hangover. Asami decides it best to tell no one of this incident.

Two weeks after her birthday, she receives a surprise in the mail. A letter with the postmarking of the Southern Water Tribe.

Hope crashes through her, and she sprints into the residential building, staggers into the elevator, and takes it to her penthouse. She rips open the letter by the time she reaches her door and has to juggle her keys with the letter to unlock. Leaning against the door, Asami unfolds the letter.

Dear Asami,

This is Senna. First, I wanted to express heartfelt thanks for your steadiness and kindness with writing Korra. I know it may be frustrating to not hear from her.

Second, are you all right? We missed your letter this past week, which was unusual. Korra wanted to write and ask if you were okay, but she was unable to put words to paper. I offered to assist, which is why I am writing you today.

I hope this letter finds you well. If you need anything, please feel free to ask myself, Tonraq, or Tenzin. I'm sure we can provide support. Be safe, Asami.

Senna

Tucked inside the letter is a folded origami triangle, which is the start of a crane. Nothing is written on the origami, and Asami isn't sure if Korra folded it or if Senna or Tonraq did. Maybe Katara? She inspects it thoroughly, but she cannot find any clue as to why it was included. Despite this, she carries it with her to work to display on her desk in honor of Korra.

The letter, itself, is a balm to her soul. Her weekly letters did impact Korra. Enough to cause worry.

Asami hates the idea that she causes Korra worry.

She endeavors to repair this immediately and sends a reply that is not at all part of her schedule. (She decides she'll restart her schedule that week, so Korra will end up with two letters for the week.)

Dear Korra, Senna, and Tonraq,

Thank you for your concern. I apologize for causing you worry! I never meant to do so. I am sorry for that. It has been a rough week for me. My birthday was this past week, and it brought sour memories of my father. I am okay now. I suppose the grief of that hits me hard during my or my former parents' birthdays, and I admit, I am unused to seeking assistance or support. So thank you again for checking in on me.

I plan to continue my schedule. I hope it helps to anchor you all. Give you a root on which to build your own days and hopes.

Much love to you all, Asami

Within a week and a half, Asami receives a reply to her spontaneous letter.

Dear Asami,

I understand how hard birthdays can be. I too struggle with grief on the birthday of my late mother. She died when I was a teenager from a lung disease that couldn't be cured. So I understand how hard grief can hit. No need for you to apologize. That is perhaps my message for you. Never apologize for your feelings. Your feelings are valid.

Feel free to write me further if you find it helpful.

Take care, Senna

Asami is so touched by Senna's reply, that she reexamines her schedule. Perhaps writing Senna can be added to it?

She decides to continue her weekly schedule for Korra, but adds another schedule, where she writes Senna twice a month. She is a little worried this is presumptuous of her, but Senna's letters did offer this twice now. So why not?

To Asami's shock, Senna does reply to her letters. She does not mention Korra. She instead describes the landscape of the South (mostly glaciers and mountains, where trees are rare, Asami learns), some of her duties as the wife of the Chief (surprisingly she does a lot of negotiation), and asks questions about Asami's work.

One of Senna's suggestions sends Asami to the Air Nation to check on their needs. This, in turn, causes Asami to build an airbending glider suit, which she leverages Future Industries resources to build. It is a rousing success among the Air Nation, and Jinora demands Asami start visiting more often.

This is why Asami finds herself scheduling time for dinner with Jinora and her family twice a month. The connection warms her heart.

When one year and five months have passed, Asami finds herself frustrated with work. Frustrated at how sales continue to flounder. Frustrated by Raiko being a jerk about her community forums. (He calls them 'useless time wasters when those attending ought to be working.' The gall of the man! Asami decides to open up more forums and builds a few homeless shelters just to spite him.)

More than anything else, Asami finds herself frustrated by Korra's lack of reply, and frustrated with herself for not being able to handle the silence. Korra is likely struggling with so much. Why should Asami expect Korra to have energy to reply to her inane ramblings?

After a particularly hard day at work, Asami returns to the mansion's workshop, opens the trapdoor, and drinks an entire bottle of whiskey. She sings a song she vaguely remembers her mother singing to her. Her father has also sung it whenever they visited her grave, but he stopped when Asami was eleven.

So she sings it to herself as she drinks and tosses crumpled up love letters to Korra into the darkness of the factory entrance.

"Winter, spring, Summer and fall.

Winter, spring, Summer and fall

Four seasons, Four loves.

Four seasons, For love."

Part of Asami is tempted to go down and smash things. Maybe rip apart what is left of the vile factory, wreck destruction in a way she'd never done before, but she can't bring herself to do this.

Asami Sato is an engineer. She fixes things. She doesn't break things.

Instead, she drinks the bottle and tosses it down the steps. It lands far enough away that she can't hear if it shatters or not.

She does not describe this day in her letter to Korra.

By the second year, Asami is lost in depression. Keeping to her schedule has become incredibly hard. She has managed to persevere this long. Surely, she can keep going, right?

She wonders if she loves a ghost.

Will Korra ever return?

By this point, Asami's whiskey drinking on the steps of the underground factory has become a monthly activity. She makes sure she is not seen by Mako's family -- how could she explain it? -- she verifies a radio is playing somewhere, and she locks the workshop door behind her. The trapdoor pulls up easier each time.

She is unsure of how much shattered glass lies at the bottom of these steps nor how many crumpled up love letters. (She's a little afraid to check.)

On the third day of the second year, Asami goes to the workshop for her monthly drinking. She sings sadly to the looming maw of darkness, drinks far too much whiskey, and passes out on the floor of the workshop. When she wakes in the morning, she has a massive hangover. One that leaves her confused as to where she even is.

For a terrifying moment, she's convinced she's been kidnapped. Only for her to hear the sounds of Mako's family shouting nearby about breakfast. That roots her in her reality, and she realizes she fell asleep in the workshop. How embarrassing.

The sink in the workshop doesn't work, which is frustrating. Asami hasn't needed it before, nor has she included the upkeep of this workshop in the duties of her mansion's staff. (She's actually written rules that forbid them from entering this place, and keeps it locked.)

Asami sneaks out to her satomobile. When she reaches her penthouse at the residential building near Future Industries, she is feeling terrible, her head pounds, and she wishes she could be swallowed by the earth.

But she must focus on recovery since she has work the next day. It will be a big day. Several of the road projects will be completed, and she must do a press conference with that hideous Raiko. (Asami hates press conferences with Raiko. He insists on shaking her hand and putting his hand at the small of her back for a photo every time. He is lucky to not get punched after.)

Asami then discovers a surprise in her mailbox. A white and blue letter leans against the side of the box. It has a Southern Water Tribe postmark.

Except the handwriting doesn't match Senna's.

Asami is far too hungover to process the script on the letter's envelope. She thinks perhaps she is delusional.

She decides to leave it on her kitchen counter and shower instead. (Hot water is excellent for distilling thoughts into coherent ideas.)

When she returns to the kitchen, her hair wrapped in a towel, she notes how the letter continues to take up counter space. The print writing is still not Senna's handwriting. Asami doesn't know what Tonraq's handwriting is like. She decides it must be his. Though why he would write her is not something her hungover-addled brain can fathom.

She decides to make breakfast first and drink as much water as she can stomach. After she eats her oatmeal and eggs, she cleans the dishes and puts them away. Getting out a book, she tries to read in the armchair by her balcony door. Her headaches causes her to fall asleep.

By lunchtime, the letter has not moved. It is still in the same spot with that same handwriting.

Asami wonders if the letter is daring her to open it.

Is she afraid of a letter?

How ridiculous! She is Asami Sato. CEO of Future Industries, listed as one of the top philanthropists in the Republic Times (that award was just four months prior), and a local community leader. A letter does not scare her.

She takes a deep breath and snatches it off the counter. Her finger rips it open.

Inside is a folded piece of paper and again that origami triangle, except this time, it's much closer to being a full crane.

Asami unfolds the letter and promptly drops it on the counter.

Korra's name is in the salutation.

Asami has to sit down.

Korra has written her back. She truly has written her back.

Asami feels like she's soaring high, where all the spirits in the world sing the love song her parents had sung so often when she was a child.

Korra has written her back! What joy! What delight! Asami grins and swoons at the sight of Korra's meticulously written characters.

She picks up the letter again to read.

Dear Asami,

I'm sorry I haven't written to you sooner, but every time I've tried, I never know what to say. The past two years have been the hardest of my life. Even though I can get around fine now, I still can't go into the Avatar State. I keep having visions of Zaheer and what happened that day.

Katara thinks a lot of this is in my head, so I've been meditating a lot, but sometimes I worry I'll never fully recover.

Please don't tell Mako and Bolin I wrote to you and not them. I don't want to hurt their feelings, but it's easier to tell you about this stuff. I don't think they'd understand.

Yours, Korra

Asami can't stop the tears from flowing. She pulls out her handkerchief and weeps. She wishes she could hold Korra. To kiss her forehead. To remind her that she is worth everything and that she can defeat this. She can recover.

In the end, Asami decides she cannot wait for her schedule day to write. She responds right away.

Dear Korra,

I understand. Don't worry about how long it took. I will always be here to support you. And don't worry! I won't speak a word of this to Mako or Bolin. I will continue my weekly schedule, but I wanted to get this to you as soon as I could. So you knew that I hear you and I understand. Recovery is hard.

Love, Asami

Asami stares at her letter and thinks of how inane it feels. It doesn't come close to summing up how she feels. She thinks again of Korra's worry about the Avatar state, and wonders if she can help with that. She doesn't truly understand how the Avatar state works, but perhaps she can do some preliminary research? Would that help Korra through this?

When Asami sees a problem, it immediately makes her want to seek a solution, but she doesn't know if that is wise for this.

In the end, she sends the letter as is. She continues her weekly schedule, but she adds in time for brainstorming. She visits every library in the city and Air Temple Island. She reads about chi pathways, chakras, and prior Avatars. She learns about how acupuncture opens up the chakras, and how this effects bending. She ponders if this can be turned into a way for Korra to still have the Avatar state without the Avatar state.

She decides to take the glider suite design and add in an acupuncture design to the back. Between meetings and mountains of paperwork, she works on this in the workshop in front of her office. Occasionally, one of her department managers asks her about the project, and she only levels a 'don't you dare test me' glare at them. The interrupter slinks away ashamed. It takes her most of the month to complete.

When she visits Air Temple Island for her second dinner of the month, she asks Jinora to chat with her in the meditation pavilion.

"Would you like to test an idea for me?" Asami is both excited and nervous.

Jinora grins at her. "Sure!"

"Really? I haven't even explained what it is." Asami is taken aback at Jinora's blind trust.

Jinora laughs. "It's you asking. Why wouldn't I say yes? I know you'd never hurt me."

Asami hopes that is the case. "Well, I have a prototype glider suit for you. Can you wear it for three days and write down your observations for me? If you find it uncomfortable or if something goes wrong, please call me immediately. I'll drop everything for this, okay?" She reaches into her backpack and takes out the suit. She has specifically designed it for Jinora's build.

Jinora takes it and looks it over. "Why is the back so hard?" She taps her fist against the spine of the suit.

"That's the acupuncture spine. It's meant to open your chakras." Asami is very nervous now. "At least, that's what I read. We'll see what if it works."

Jinora smiles. "All right. I'll do it."

Asami leaves the island feeling like she's on cloud nine. Maybe her wacky idea might actually work.

She receives the call during one of her meetings. Her assistant, Tariq, rushes into the room. His blue eyes are wide, his brown skin flushed likely from running down several flights of stairs to the meeting room. He gasps out, "Ms. Sato, you said if Jinora called to alert you immediately."

Asami stands. "Thank you, Tariq." She turns to the engineering team. "Excuse me, I must attend this emergency. We will reschedule." 

She rushes up the four flights to her office to take the call. Jinora sounds panicked, and talks far too fast for Asami to make sense of on the phone. 

"I'll be right there," Asami assures her and hangs up. Grabbing her keys, she swaps out her dress shoes for her sturdier boots and sprints to the elevator. The drive takes far longer than she prefers, and finding a spot to park her precious blue satomobile also eats up minutes.

On the ferry, Asami frets over whether her idea has hurt Jinora. She wouldn't be able to bear it if it did.

When she walks up the path from the docks, she is shocked to see several fully grown trees torn up by their roots laying across the path. A large clearing now exists where that grove of trees once stood. Jinora sits on one of the trunks holding the suit, her head downcast.

"Asami!" She looks up relieved. "You came!"

"What... what happened?" Asami stares flabbergasted at the destruction. At least the trees hadn't hit the buildings?

Jinora stands and hands her the suit. "I... I wore this and tried to air bend, but I couldn't control it. It was way powerful, far more than I'd ever felt in my life." She looks sad and kicks at the ground. "I'm sorry I couldn't do the full experiment. Dad forbid me from wearing it again."

Asami looks down at the suit and comes to the conclusion that this is perhaps the worst idea she ever had.

But it would be a funny postscript for Korra. Best to not explain the why however.

She adds it to her next letter. "P.S. Jinora and I did an experiment. However, things went awry. We accidentally tore up an entire grove of fully grown trees. Tenzin was furious. However, I think our remodeling added a beautiful clearing for picnicking."

Asami doesn't expect a reply. It has been three months since Korra's last letter.

To her surprise, a letter from the Southern Water Tribe shows up in her mailbox a week later.

Dear Asami,

What the spirits was this experiment? That sounds amazing. I wish I could have seen that. I don't think I've laughed so hard in a long time. I could just picture Tenzin's face red with fury. Bet there was steam coming out his ears too.

It got me thinking. Do you think I've been in the South too long? If maybe that's why I'm stuck in my healing? I haven't made any progress since my last letter, and it's been eating me up. But your letter got me thinking that maybe I do need a change of scenery. My own remodeling maybe?

What do you think?

Yours, Korra

Asami is delighted to learn she caused Korra to laugh. However, Korra's question makes Asami wonder if now is the time to reveal her truth. She so badly wants Korra to return to Republic City. She wants to take Korra out on a date still, maybe even go on an adventure in the wilds to do some experiments with chakras (Asami hasn't quite let go of ways to help Korra find her Avatar spirit again).

But part of her holds back out of fear that Korra doesn't return her feelings.

Sure, Korra signs these letters with 'yours' but Asami doesn't know if that is a friendship-y 'yours' or a romantic 'yours.' In fact, Asami hasn't ever written someone like this before, so she doesn't know how friends sign letters. Business contacts use 'sincerely,' so that isn't any help.

Asami decides to play it safe. She will admit to Korra having her heart, but that is the most she will do. Surely, that won't scare her away? She doesn't want Korra to stop writing after all.

Dear Korra,

I want to say come here to Republic City, but I also know you need to feel ready to do that. So please do not see this as me trying to convince you to come back. I want you to now that whatever you decide, I will always support you. You have my word and my heart.

Whenever I am stuck on an idea, which feels often of late especially with how difficult things are with Future Industries, I will take a day and go hiking in the mountains. There in the wilderness I find a solace that can't be captured elsewhere. Nature has such beauty and wonder hidden around every bend.

Did you know that fractals are perhaps the most common type of growth among plants and fungi? They are a perfect repeating geometric pattern that is everywhere. I bring my magnifying glass sometimes to examine leaves, mushrooms, even rocks, and all have these lovely patterns.

This excites my imagination. Then when I reach the peak, I stand at the edge and take in the breadth of the world. I can see for kilometers in all directions. Did you know that one of the tallest peaks in Republic Nation is Mount Makapu and is within a day journey by Satomobile? That one is my favorite to climb. It sits on a peninsula that overlooks Yue Bay and the ocean. I can see so far, and I can touch the clouds. (Clouds are so wet. I know scientifically they are made of water crystals condensed into fog form, but it's quite different to physically feel such a thing on my fingertips).

It reminds me of our airship adventures. Where we wandered the Earth Kingdom, sparring, laughing, and having great fun. Perhaps that is what you need?

Sometimes a journey requires more than a step. You took a big leap to go South for healing, but now you face the next step of your journey.

I have hope that no matter where that next step leads you, you will find your way. It will be hard at first. Just as climbing a mountain is hard. (Let me tell you, if you don't get the right boots, your feet will hate you forever! So make sure you have good hiking boots!) Each step up the mountain gets harder, especially at higher elevations when there is far less oxygen. This makes the journey very, very hard.

But to stand there at the top of the world? It is worth the hardship and pain.

I think you are still climbing that mountain. You have not yet reached the peak, but you will, Korra, you will. And when you are ready to climb back down, I will be here to offer you a hug and a heartfelt congratulations at such a marvelous achievement.

And if you want someone to accompany you on this next stage of your climb, you have only to ask. I will gladly take leave to walk that with you.

May this letter inspire you to new heights. And remember, you have my support always.

Love, Asami

Asami again doesn't expect a reply. She, however, continues her schedule. Writing Korra is perhaps one of the few things that gets her through her long days.

She often finds herself in Avatar Korra park (this was the first thing she built, she is proud to say) and sits by the statue to draw. Sometimes, she comes late at night to sit between Korra's legs and whisper her secrets to the stone (she hopes she is less likely to be recognized at night).

During this time, the bureaucrats in charge of the city's contract keep being very dodgy about paying the full amount owed, and she is tired of this song and dance to get them to follow through. Her company badly needs the money.

At least sales has improved somewhat thanks to her efforts with community forums. She finds that the lower income boroughs have lots of interesting engineering ideas. This delights her. For some of the more promising ones, she offers to help realize their designs with a contract. She can't afford to pay them full time, but she can at least sub contract with them part time to fund their projects. This is well received by the public, and Asami can't help but preen with pride at how helpful it has been for people.

She eagerly shares these successes with Korra in her letters. For the bureaucrats, she mocks them in what she hopes is an amusing way. She badly wants to hear Korra laugh, but this she supposes is the next best thing.

At two years and five months, Asami receives a third letter from Korra. She has had a long day at the office and construction sites dealing with emergencies. Plus, she keeps getting letters from her father (why is he writing her at all? The memory of him trying to kill her haunts her dreams far more than she'll ever admit.) All of this grief and frustrations tempts her with heading to the mansion workshop to drink it all away.

Instead, she opens her mailbox to find the letter.

She barely reaches her penthouse before she has torn it open.

Dear Asami,

I don't know what I'd do without you. Honestly, you're the best thing that's ever happened in my life.

I've thought long and hard about your letters, especially the one about mountain climbing. I think you're right. I do need to take this next step, and I think I know what to do. But I need you to do something for me. I know this will be hard, and it's not fair to you. Especially with how kind you are. With how devoted and steady you've been despite my lack of replies. I am probably being selfish, aren't I?

But I don't think I can do this without knowing you have my back. Can you stop writing me in exactly one month from the postscript of this letter? I need everyone to think I am returning at that time. Please tell no one of this letter.

I promise that I'll come back to you. I just need more time. I need to finish that metaphorical mountain climb, and when I reach the peak, I hope I will find my Avatar state there. Thank you for being here for me. I hope to see you soon.

Love, Korra

Asami stares at the letter. Her fingers hover over the word 'love.'

What is Korra planning? Asami thinks through her last few letters, and then abruptly remembers the one she'd written in reply to Korra's questions.

Korra is going on a journey somewhere. She asks Asami to not share with anyone what Asami now knows. For Korra to entrust her with this? Asami's heart swells with love.

She will honor Korra's request.

Asami continues her schedule for one month and promptly ends it. She tells no one of Korra's final letter to her.

At two years and six months, Asami must attend the train station reveal and deal with President Raiko. (She really hopes he doesn't do that touching of her back while shaking her hand. She decides she'll step hard on his foot if he does. Maybe she'll break one of his toes. It'd serve him right.)

The crowd is surprisingly large. Reporters hog the front viewing area with their large, lumbering cameras and pen and paper. Asami is anxious but relieved to learn she doesn't need to speak. (She really doesn't like public speaking.) Instead, she smiles and cuts the stupid, red ribbon with the biggest and most ungainly scissors she's ever seen.

She hopes this is all she needs to do. The mingling after the ceremony goes significantly easier. Nod, smile, pretend to care about the inane ramblings of uninteresting people. Honestly, Korra is the only person Asami could happily listen to ramble. Certainly not stiff business people in their overly tailored suits, greasy hair, and badly chosen tie colors. She's mastered the 'pretend to care' expression due to her time as CEO.

At least, it would have been easy if not for Prince Wu. He corners her to her irritation, then blatantly hits on her. This makes her want to stab his eyeballs or maybe stab her own. Then he calls himself a super human, and she can't help but roll her eyes.

No, the only superhuman is Korra.

To her relief, Mako comes to her rescue. She could hug him. (Not kiss him, that is only for Korra, and she knows Mako well enough that even a kiss on the cheek would confuse him. She is not interested in him and will never be interested in him again. That ship sailed long, long ago. Korra is the only one who has her heart.)

Mako mentions Korra's return.

Asami can't look him in the eye. She knows the truth. So she looks at the ground, and says what needs to be said, "I can't wait to see her." For that is the truth, but when she will see Korra, Asami doesn't know.

Later that day, the boat from the Southern Water Tribe pulls into Air Temple Dock. Asami sits on a bench at the top of the path and watches, knowing Korra will not be there. Naga is however, which makes Asami wonder if Korra has decided to be incognito.

The others panic at first. They talk of searching for Korra.

Asami decides to go play with Naga before she loses her temper at how ridiculous everyone is being. She is tempted to tell them all off and demand they trust Korra's intentions. But she simply cannot take that risk.

Naga is delighted to see her. Nearly knocks her over. Asami decides to incorporate visits with Naga into her schedule. She decides on three times a week. For her, Naga is a fragile connection with Korra, the person she loves most in the world. This is the least she can do for Korra.

Tonraq finds her in the clearing -- the same one Jinora had made by accident during Asami's suit experiment -- and he watches her throw the ball for Naga for awhile. Asami is nervous at first, but slowly relaxes when he doesn't try to interrogate her.

Except, his next words breaks Asami's calm. "Asami, I wanted to ask. Korra wrote you, didn't she?"

Asami doesn't want to lie to Korra's father. Not after all her work to prove herself to him. "She did."

"What did she tell you?"

Asami turns and meets his gaze. She sees the worry in his expression, the furrow in his brows. Korra has his eyes and nose, she realizes. "Tonraq, you are asking that I betray Korra's trust. I can't do that."

His lips twitch in an almost smile. "I understand. May I ask if you are worried? Of all of us, you are the most calm."

Asami is worried. She can't help it. Not knowing where Korra is, or if she is safe drives Asami to distraction. But Korra has asked for her word and her trust. Asami gives it readily to her. "I do worry, but I cannot and will not speak further on this."

Tonraq studies her for a long moment. She finds herself holding her breath and hopes she hasn't made an enemy out of Korra's father.

To her relief, he reaches out and grasps her shoulder. "Thank you, Asami, for being there for my daughter. She couldn't have a better pa-friend."

Asami smiles and bows her head in reply.

When he walks away to join the others, she looks after his tall figure and wonders if the word he meant to say was 'partner.' EDIT: Got it up on AO3 now.

#legend of korra #korrasami #tlok #asami sato #avatar korra #the legend of korra #asami #korra #korra x asami #writing #asami x korra #avatar: tlok #tlok fanfic #fanfic #drabble #fluff #angst #pinning #Couldn't resist writing the story of how their romance starts #I'm positive Asami knew she had feelings for Korra after the events of Book 2 no matter what Turf Wars claims

[moonshine-nightlight]

NWWD Bonus: Divergent Revelations 1

Bonus story for NWWD, AU starting mid Chapter 23. This is primarily the set up for an earlier, different, revelation conversation. (basically fanfiction about my own story)

During the fight with assassins, you and Dale are forced to confront the truth of what you each know about Dale's nature. How does the fight change to have this come about? How will the conversation about these revelations go when there's still more than a week before the wedding?

Main Story: [Part One]

AO3: NWWD Bonus: Divergent Revelations

Part 1 of 2

Just as you secure a makeshift bandage in place and resolve to leave to find help, Vi comes running out of the side room. You know the moment she spots you because she changes direction. Reflexively, you bolt for the door. The mercenary runs around wide, blocking it as a viable exit. 

Without thought, you pivot, heading back the way you came for the courtyard. She’s fast though, faster than you with her sturdy boots and training while your skirts and soft shoes only slow you down. She catches you by the time you only get as far as the desk and closet you’d started this situation from.

A blow from her spear blindsides you and you cry out as you stumble into the wall and some furniture that result in another jolt of pain. Vi lunges to cross the last few feet between you before you can do more than get around the side table. Slamming you into the wall, there’s desperation in her eyes as her spear shaft is pushed across your throat. Your wrists are held up in the skilled maneuver, pinning you far more securely than Lasky’s dagger managed. Her wide, terrified eyes bore into yours. “What the fuck is he!? You’re going to—”

The clash of metal on metal followed by a wet cough and a triumphant growl from the other room cuts her off. You try to wrestle her for control while she’s looking behind her and find to neither of your surprise that you’re no match for her strength. Shifting your strategy, you desperately wiggle your hands, trying for even a little more room to breathe. Your head is tilted back, your throat throbbing as she fixes her gaze back on yours. You try to say something, you don’t even know what, but she doesn’t give you a chance.

“They lied,” she spits. “He’s not human, he’s a skinwere.” Your stomach sinks at the realization Dale must have revealed enough of himself that she knows he’s not just enhanced. Skinwere is a common enough term for a demon possessing a human, but it's one you’ve heard more in your short time in Northridge than the rest of your life, so you wonder if she’s a local. No wonder she’s scared out of her mind. That makes her even more dangerous, more able to expose Dale for what he is and your mind screams at you to do something, anything, to be more than a liability here.

When you don’t respond quickly or dramatically enough, despite her spear shaft still preventing you from doing more than breathing shallowly, her eyes narrow. “You knew.” It’s not a question, but you still can’t speak or even move your head to answer anyway. She doesn’t seem to need you to. She pushes against you with her spear, completely cutting off your air before she pulls back enough to let you speak. You cough, gulping in air as she orders, “Tell me how to kill it. Tell me—”

Before she can make any more demands, you drop your whole body down like a dead weight. There was enough space between the spear and the wall to let you, although it still wrenches your wrists painfully. Your head hits the wall as your chin hits the spear shaft to allow the movement.

Wrists, head, and backside throbbing, you’re moving before you can think about it. Crawling around her legs on your hands and knees. You scurry towards anything that can be perceived as safe. The sound of something heavy being flung into a wall in the distance makes you flinch as you try to get under a couch.

A heavy blow to your back causes you to yelp and you collapse onto your stomach. “You’re not going anywhere,” Vi snarls, the butt of her spear pressing down with insistent force into your spine. You try to push yourself forward, tears rolling down your cheeks from the way you can feel the wooden dig into what feels like your bones. “Not until—”

The pressure abates abruptly and you turn on your side to see something long and black around her wrist, pulling her weapon off of you. Your vantage point, combined with your throbbing head and blurred, teary vision, makes it hard to follow all the action. How could a black snake be trying to fight Vi? 

She draws a knife with her free hand to strike the black thing, but the crack of bone breaking causes her to scream as her spear drops from her now limp hand. You manage to pick the spear and shoot it along the ground, as far away as you can. You know she’d be more capable of taking it from you than you would be at wielding it against her.

Vi finally looks behind her, following where the solid shadow stretches to and screams at whatever she sees. You only see another long dark ribbon of tangible blackness wrap around her neck before she’s pulled backwards with a strangled sound, past where you can see. A gasping whimper and a thud make you wince, paralyzed on the floor, mind unable to decide what to do next. 

You hear footsteps heading for you accompanied by a tap of wood on wood. Then you hear a worried, “Sana?” 

Relief floods your body and you desperately need to see Dale, to reassure yourself that despite the horrible clashes and yells, the violence and the destruction, he’s whole. No matter what he must look like given what you’ve seen and how his voice still has an echoing, deep quality to it. Flattening your palms to the floor, you brace yourself to get up. You’re interrupted by a loud crack before you can clear your abused throat enough to answer him.

“I knew it,” an unfamiliar voice meets your ears. It has a strange, otherworldly grit to it and you freeze instantly. “How all these other humans are so blind, I’ve no notion.”

Dale hisses, “Hide,” before you hear him move away from you and towards the voice. You follow his suggestion, too cowed by the return of the threat to want to do anything else. Half crawling and half dragging your tired body, you skip the couch to tuck yourself under the heavy wooden desk.

“As though you are a paragon of subtlety,” Dale snaps back. He’s clearly nearly in that other side room once more, but his voice carries more than perhaps he’s even aware. 

“Ah,” the voice concedes, the sound carrying just as easily. Is that a demon power? you wonder with only slight delirium, projecting your voice? “But I am not trying to be. Neither of us are.”

“Us?”

“Yes,” a far more human voice replies this time. “Us.” The two voices overlay on that word before the more inhuman voice continues, “We are not all so rude as to kick out the original owner. Some of us know what it is to share.”

You realize it’s Two, who has apparently decided to finally enter the fight and who’s strange nickname suddenly makes a lot more sense.

“I care not how many of you are fitted in that body,” Dale replies. “You’ll do no more harm here. You’ll not fulfill your mission.”

“Perhaps,” the casual menace of this voice is not intimidated by Dale’s confidence or orders. “Or perhaps there is simply more to be gained and less to be parsed.”

You strain your ears but there is only the sound of movement and metal after that. Grunts from all three voices, perhaps more distinct given your inability to see and only to hear, come from that further side room. It’s not enough to tell you who’s winning and you’ve no notion of how Dale stands in contest with another actual demon. 

Does the Two being both human and demon help or hinder them? They had implied that Dale was not sharing his own form, which confirmed the human who had been Dale was gone, didn’t it? Neither of them are mentioning Clen either, so is he dead? What sort of creature was the demon in Two? You know demons vary wildly, even the intelligent ones, in a manner far greater than humans did. What if this one was more powerful than Dale? 

Although, it feels like ages of simply listening as you try to regain your breath, though in reality, it’s likely only a minute or two. You can’t take knowing so little about what is happening. Hesitantly, you move forward and cautiously kneel up to see just over the surface of the desk. 

They’re indeed still in that other room, circling so fast you can hardly tell who’s who. From the glimpses you catch, neither of them are in forms that are entirely human anymore. Part of the fight seems human enough, the swords meeting and breaking apart as they move, engaging each other’s blades while dodging stabs and slashes. 

The room around them is what currently seems like it's not of this world. The shadows in the room move unnaturally and at least two seem to be even more independent than that. They whip around Dale to meet and deflect spikes of animate stonework, colored grayish-green with a rusty red shot through it. The rock seems both to originate from the columns and walls of the room, despite looking nothing like the rock used to construct it, and from nothing at all. Ripples of unnatural movement in the floor and ceiling add to the feeling that the room itself is attempting to attack Dale.

Your heart is in your throat as Dale’s shadows seem far more ephemeral, far weaker, than something as sturdy as stone. A big chunk breaks to fall from the ceiling. Dale’s dodge to the side is more desperate than any previously and he catches Two’s sword stroke awkwardly as a result. His sword flies from his hand to land behind Two with a clatter. 

Retaliating with a riot of shadows which erupt between them, Dale forces Two back. They’ve migrated such throughout the fight that you have to strain to keep them in sight and follow what’s happening. Dale’s inky back is to you and half his body is blocked by the doorframe while Two’s nearly on the other side of that room now.

“I believe you’re unarmed now,” Two says with a smirk that’s beginning to look unsettling on his face which has begun to resemble a statue’s more than a person’s. The movement of stone when he talks and his expression changes just looks wrong.

“I do not need a weapon to be armed,” Dale snarls, the shadows of the room flickering dizzyingly. You can’t tell if it's the lighting or actuality, but his entire body seems more amorphous than ever before. Taller than he typically is, but thinner too—he’s becoming more unrecognizable as the fight drags on. He brandishes his hand to better display the black claws he now has. The arm you can see is oddly shaped, more like a medical mannequin from class—bone and muscle with no fat to be seen—than a living person’s. In fact, you’re certain he’d been wearing a green suit earlier, but that’s black now too. Even his dark hair seems to absorb light, untied and wild, longer than it should be. 

You keenly appreciate Dale’s rebuttal, but you still hate that his sword is gone from his hand while one remains in Two’s. They shift their stances. 

You bump into a lamp that’s been knocked to the floor when you automatically try to compensate to keep your minuscule view. As you push the lamp to the side, something on the ground catches your attention. Very deliberately not looking too closely at Vi’s body, you focus on the long, thin piece of polished wood which drew your notice. Dale’s cane. 

Instantly, you know you need to get this to Dale having heard him boast about it’s hiding a weapon at a gala. More than that, you want to do something, anything to help him. Fear fights that impulse. The big, heavy desk provides the reassurance of safety, however wishful it might be. With one last look at the circling fighters, you lean down, steadying yourself on the cold stone floor. Straining, you only just manage to wrap a few fingers around the foot of the cane to pull it towards you. 

Hastily retreating back behind the desk, you pop back up fast enough to give your still sore head a rush. You run your hands over the familiar wood as you try to spot Dale as he and Two dance around each other. 

Once they’ve split once more with Dale nearest the doorway, you call out, “Dale!” Leaning up as high as you can on your knees, you hurl the cane like you’ve seen others throw a javelin. It soars through the air while both are distracted by your shout. 

Dale leaps backwards as if propelled by some of the shadows under him towards you. A clawed hand, black like he’s wearing gloves or dunked his arm in ink, snatches the cane out of the air with careful precision. You think you see the glint of a blue eye on the back of his hand, the only color standing out against his form now.

“Will that do you any good?” Two asks, seemingly curious more than anything as he watches Dale hold the cane. You can’t tell if his lack of anger over this fight, the way he keeps treating it like a tournament fight for entertainment, is a good thing or not.

Dale says nothing, merely twists the handle. He carefully pulls off the wood to reveal a long green rapier. Before you can wonder at the applicability of such a weapon, Two takes a full step back.

“Jade,” Two hisses. “A dangerous weapon for one such as ourselves to wield.”

“All weapons are dangerous,” Dales replies brusquely, squaring up instead of dodging as he’d been doing since Two disarmed him. “Humans regularly use weapons as deadly to themselves as they are to their enemies.”

“How adaptable. All the shade in your nature, I presume,” Two says, a mocking edge to his tone.

“You are not the only one who can use stone to their advantage,” Dale bats back as easily. 

Two lets out a cascade of laughter and the sound seems to come from far more than two mouths, let alone one. It’s grating: like steel on iron, like a throaty cough, like the squeal of a live animal on fire all at once. You would give nearly anything for him to never do that again. “It has been so long since I spoke with one of us with intelligence still left to them up here,” Two seems to relish the idea. “The sunlight seems to drive too many insane. Almost a shame to kill you.”

“A good thing then,” Dale says as he charges, “that you will not.”

The visibility of the fight becomes impossible after that. There’s too much movement from shadows as Dale chases Two further into the room. You’re back to primarily trying to gauge the fight based on sound alone: thuds and crashes and ripping you can’t identify.

“So close. But perhaps you are correct,” it’s the human voice this time, panting but not demoralized. Some of the sight line clears and you see Two hunched over, a hand on their chest. “I shall not be able to kill you nor collect the bounty so generously placed on your head.” They cough a cloud of rust from their mouth as they lift their head. “However, the knight had the correct idea.” 

“Yes,” the gravelly demonic voice picks up and they slowly straighten. “I’m certain you must have supplies or teachings worth perusing. I can tell your form is impeccable underneath, despite your essence spilling out.” They gesture with their arms, sneering. “This body, with him intact, still gets a bit stiff if I’m not careful. I shall be intrigued to ascertain how you accomplished such a thing.”

“You think I will allow you to leave?” Dale hisses. “After all you’ve done?” He throws a hand out to emphasize the general state of destruction around them.

Two laughs again. How could you not be better braced for it? Even anticipating how horrible it is, it remains one of the most unsettling things you’ve ever heard. It has a screech to it now that makes your skin crawl. You’re resisting the urge to cover your ears or yell yourself in order to drown them out when they look over and meet your eyes. Their dirty red eyes, the color of dried blood, bore into yours across the distance and they rush for you.

They cross the distance faster than they should be able, outpacing Dale, and there’s a ripple in the walls that seems to respond to them. Panic seizes your heart and mind as you instinctively dive back down and under the desk. Your hands desperately latch onto and drag a broken ottoman to cover the opening at the back of the desk.

Curling up against the front board of the desk, you feel something slam into your makeshift shield. Pushing you and the desk back, the wood squealed against the floor as it moves. A wordless roar comes from somewhere to your right and another crash echoes through the room followed by a heavy grunt and the sound of books falling to the floor. Then, silence.

After holding perfectly, tightly, still, you can’t keep in a cough. The stone moving has kicked up a lot of dust and you’re unable to help it. You think you hear a smothered groan as you attempt to stop, but you stay rooted in your hiding spot, waiting.

After another dull thump, Dale calls your name. His voice is still strange and yet you can hear the confusion and worry in it. You can hear a lot more than that actually. Your eyelids flutter despite being unable to see anything other than dust and dingy wood. Your name sounds different than when he’s said it in the past. There is a depth to it, meaning below the surface that you can hear when he’s like this. Like emotion and inflection and neither of those. 

There’s a layer of softness, of imagery that it conjures up, that you can almost feel through his voice. Of gentle sunlight through the window on a clear day. Your favorite chair and the taste of fresh, sweet honey melting on your tongue, soothing and comforting. Its respect and harmony and the potential to be more than you are alone, of joining and of belonging. Tension leeches from you in waves, like taking off so many heavy coats to stand unburdened. You want to drown in the sensation. You want to hear him say nothing, but your name for the rest of your life.

You want to come out, to go to him, regardless of what you might see. Hesitantly, you push the ottoman away and start to crawl out from beneath the desk. Shakily, you stand up and turn to face Dale.

Black shadows still cling to his form, one hand pressed against the oddly bulging stone, the other behind his back where a bookshelf is braced. His eyes glow an unnatural blue and his hair is too long and wild. He’s roughly the correct height with only one extra eye on the back of his hand. He’s still too thin, as if his arms are muscle and bone only. His face is mostly human, his skin the same light brown it always is, except for a streak of shadow and some darkness around the edges where his hair halos his head.

He looks like nothing so much as what he is: a human consumed by something inhuman, something demonic. Adrenaline surges through your veins and yet, he’s still so clearly… “Dale,” you breathe out, relieved. He’s the one you’ve grown to know and like. You’re not afraid of him. How could you been when he’s still protecting you? 

Instead, you find yourself searching for evidence of the toll the fight may have taken on him. To your relief, he doesn’t seem to be bleeding either, no obvious large wounds or injuries. 

Nerves still prepared for danger, you look beyond him to assess the rest of the situation, although you can tell by an absence in the air that Two is– 

“Gone,” he croaks, his voice shuddering and rusty. With a groan, he pushes himself straight and the bookcase falls away from him to land with an echoing crash that fills the room, empty of all but the two of you. He removes his hand from the rock of the wall to your right. The large bricks of rock are loose, but not enough to threaten the integrity of the wall itself.

You meet his eyes once again and finally take a deep breath, while his shoulders droop as you both stand in the aftermath. The shadows are receding slowly, subtle enough you wonder if it's just a trick of the light, but of course, they are shadows, so it must be. Then Dale’s striding forward and the cool fingers of his hand cup your cheek. His eyes trace down your body, taking in every scrape and bruise and streak of dust as he looks.

“I am fine,” you say, more because you’re alive and so it feels like the appropriate response. Not to mention, you’re not the one who’s just been battling assassins. 

It’d probably be a more convincing statement if you couldn’t feel tears dripping down your cheeks. His eyes rake up and down your form, obviously trying to assess that for himself and his other hand grasps the elbow of the arm Lasky cut. Everything about him, his shadows, his gaze, his focus tightens. “You’re hurt.”

“Nothing serious. Are you?” Your eyes strain to see his body more clearly now that he’s not completely wreathed in darkness. Mostly you can tell his clothes are in rough shape, but there are no obvious large holes, no blood.

“I’ve got a thick skin,” he says, voice still pitched a little lower than usual. “And I’d speed on my side. Not to mention Two’s folly in letting the others face me without them.”

Cautiously, you place your free hand on his chest, over his heart—needing to feel him solid and whole under your touch. “But they fled.”

“Yes,” Dale admits, but his gaze doesn’t dart towards the doors. His eyes stay fixed on your face. He carefully brings a thumb to wipe away your tears with a tenderness that doesn’t match the danger that lingers in the way he still holds himself. You can’t help but lean into his touch, the safety he offers, if only to you. Some of the tension starts to ebb from him when he freezes. 

You don’t understand why until you are able to tell he’s fixated on his own, still inhuman hand on your cheek. Abruptly he’s as still as a statue. It’s obvious he’d been unaware of how demonic he still looked. “It’s alright,” you murmur, gently. His wide blue eyes finally meet your own. “I don’t mind.”

Dale pulls back his head at your words, looking more baffled than you’ve ever seen him. he drops your elbow, but he doesn’t let go of your face. From the corners of your eyes, you can see all the shadows melt away as he pulls his inhuman influence in to leave a mostly human man looking back at you with faintly glowing blue eyes and ink stained hands. He doesn’t push your hand away from his chest, where a human heart beats, reassuring you that he’s still alive and with you.

“I don’t—” Dale stops speaking abruptly, tilting his head and finally breaking eye contact with you to look towards the door he came through. His hand drops from your cheek to hide behind his back and when he next blinks, there’s no more light in his eyes. You resist the urge to sway towards him, wanting his touch to keep you grounded, but understanding the implication. Reinforcements must be due to arrive any minute. Reluctantly, you drop your hand from his chest.

When he looks back at you, you can see he’s trying to pull himself together to face company. He blinks again, before frowning, his eyes darting around the room with renewed concern. “Where is Grandmother?”

If Dale can hear what’s going on in the hall… You spin around, your hand closing around the door handle for the closet. You wrench it open to reveal Grandmother, still hidden away safely. You rush in to check her breathing, to feel her pulse and reassure you both that… “She’s still unconscious, but she’s breathing.”

Dale breathes out in relief and without any more words, you grab one arm of the chair and Dale the other as you pull her from the closet. You don’t even care that he’s clearly doing the majority of the work. “Grandmother will be fine too,” you say, not sure who you’re trying to convince more.

“Good,” Dale says, eyes drifting over your more obvious injuries once more. “It would only be worse for them if either of you were not.” His eyes slide down Grandmother’s unconscious form and menace seems to drip from his voice. “It shall be bad enough as it is.” 

Despite the warning from Dale a minute or so ago, you still jump at the sound of a door opening, looking past Dale to see two of the governor’s guards walk in. They stop in the doorway, gaping.

Dale straightens from where he’d been leaning over Grandmother. His head swivels to the direction of the courtyard, where Two went. He doesn’t respond to Grandfather’s concerned voice calling his name and Grandmother’s and even your own.

Fear grips your heart and your hand lands on his forearm, “No.” He doesn’t look back at you either. He gently, but inexorably pulls out of your grasp. You can’t stop him, you know that you can’t, but you can’t stand the thought of him leaving, of him pursuing this threat. “No. Dale.” He ignores you and picks up his rapier. “Don’t go after him!”

Dale runs out into the night, in pursuit.

“Damn you,” you say, voice tight as you try to stop more tears from welling up. What if he’s found out? What if Two can do more to hurt him? What if there are others in wait and he’s ambushed? What if—? You wipe your eyes more harshly than perhaps you need to as you force yourself to focus on what you can do, who you can help.

While the other guards race to follow Dale, Grandfather hurries across the room to be on the other side of the chair, calling Grandmother’s name. You can feel her breathing, but you need to know if her heart is in trouble. “We need a doctor. Now.”

-/-

This is the re-write of Chapter 23's ending to set up the next part, which should go up within a week. There as originally gonna be a steamy dream after the fight, but i couldn't make it work and then it morphed into this lol. See this ask for further details.

#my writing #story: nothing's wrong with dale #nothing's wrong with dale #fanfiction of my own story #canon divergent? #lol #i dont know how to explain or tag this well at all #couldn't resist tightening up evn the parts that did overlap with the main story #wasnt sure where to break off into the new stuff #so i just started where i thought it made sense to divert from chapter 23 #monster romance #osha compliant #what if they had a conversation earlier? #because dale figured it out that sana knew sooner? #assassins #fighting #demonic reveals

[tossawary]

For a while, I kept periodically thinking about F/M Wangxian (Male Wei Wuxian and Female Lan Wangji) without being able to figure out why I kept being distracted by F/M Wangxian. I mean, I think different genderbending AU situations are fun to think about in fanfiction, especially in worlds where gender roles are a problem. M/M, F/M, M/F, and F/F Wangxian all change the story slightly and I think it's neat to explore why and how.

And obviously, F!LWJ would be a total babe, that's nice to think about, but why still M!WWX and not F!WWX? F!WWX would also be a total babe, though of a different type, especially as the Yiling Patriarch. But my brain kept insisting that M!WWX was still crucial somehow and I couldn't figure out why that setup.

I mean, it is funny to think about how M!WWX's unchanged flirty behavior in their teenage years would suddenly set off every single alarm bell in the Cloud Recesses due to people being able to SEE IT thanks to heteronormativity goggles. WWX with a degree of societal permission to be romantically interested in Lan Wangji? Intolerable levels of annoying. Unbearable to witness. Singing love songs under her balcony type bullshit like he wants her to start another fight under the moonlight. He's writing her poetry (clever "joke" poems bordering on innuendo and actual romantic poems) and has the gall to be good at it. Lan Qiren is barely resisting the urge to beat WWX off with a broomstick. Lan Xichen doesn't know whether to be horrified or delighted (LWJ is bluuuuushing).

I do also like the idea of WWX coming back from the dead and finding out that the common people have decided in the past decade (thanks to the heteronormativity goggles) that the noble female cultivator LWJ had a Tragic Romance with the Evil Yiling Patriarch. Poor woman! WWX: "Who had a what now?" (I do also like the idea of Wangxian actually having a Tragic Romance during and after the war. And mutually stated romantic interest and affection still didn't fix anything for them. But it's funny to think about WWX getting completely blindsided by this EPIC LOVE STORY if there was no actual relationship.)

(Sizhui is still adopted here! Noble and pure-hearted LWJ adopted a war orphan because she longed to be a mother but swore never to love again after the Yiling Patriarch broke her heart, obviously! WWX, listening to this gossip: "She what? I mean, Lan Zhan would make an amazing mom, good for her, lucky kid, and no one is good enough for her if she doesn't want to get married, but seriously, I cannot stress this enough, what the fuck. She didn't like me back! Aiyah, I bet she's still so mad at me for ruining her reputation like this.")

Eventually, I realized that the key piece of this AU that I was missing was that I wanted to write F/M Wangxian that turned into F/F Wangxian. Because I think Transfem Wei Wuxian would display (and I mean this affectionately) the most ridiculous trans egg behavior imaginable, especially because it would lean more towards one of those "I was mostly fine living as a guy, but I'm so much happier as a girl" situations. Absurd amounts of queer foreshadowing.

So, Wei Wuxian gets resurrected into a female MXY's body or something and obliviously goes, "Oh! This is nice! I've always wanted to try being a woman! Yes, I can roll with this." And eventually Wei Wuxian has to actually examine the fact that she really likes being a woman and doesn't want to "go back" to being a man in any way, but not before putting Lan Wangji through an incredible amount of new "joke" flirtation. And people who knew WWX before are like... "Hmm. Some things are making sense now."

Things like: 1) As a teenager, WWX insisted that LWJ was such a strong woman that, if they got married, LWJ could be "the husband" and "he" would happily be "the wife". There were lots and lots of "I want to live as Jiejie's spoiled wife" jokes. Consequently, at the Cloud Recesses, at least one outrageously inappropriate joke was made by WWX about LWJ knocking "him" up, because WWX's breeding kink is still very much a thing. WWX didn't know about her breeding kink when she made that joke; both she and LWJ learned something about themselves that day.

2) Wei Wuxian would frequently pull crossdressing-related pranks saying: "Wow, this is crazy. I can't believe you guys are forcing me to put on a dress and all this makeup for this prank! You guys are wild!" And Jiang Cheng would reply: "No one is forcing you to do this. No one dared you. You suddenly volunteered to crossdress for a prank that does not require crossdressing AGAIN. Also, give me that brush, I'll do your makeup because you suck ass at it."

3) WWX would frequently go on rants about how women are so much more beautiful than men, which flew under the radar as a "normal behavior for a lustful young man", but there was always something a little off about it. Like, WWX might say that women are so beautiful and perfect that everyone would choose to be one if allowed to pick before being born just to admire the gorgeous view, and JC might say, "I don't think that's quite right...?" But WWX would just say something like (like an obnoxious teenage sibling), "That's because you know that you'd make an ugly woman!" or, "Are you saying that women aren't perfect? Also, are you saying Shijie isn't the best person in the world?" And JC would have to be like, "I didn't say that! And I'd make a beautiful woman, fuck you! Also, how is that relevant to your point?"

By the end of this AU, there is at least one public love confession that is horribly embarrassing for everyone else to witness, in which Wei Wuxian has finally realized that LWJ used to be in love with "him" and that she loves LWJ back, but tearfully apologizes because she can't be the handsome man that LWJ loved anymore. Even if she could be a man again, she still doesn't want to stop being a woman, even if she's not very good at it yet. She can't perform the required husbandly duties like provide a good home for LWJ! She can't father LWJ's children anymore!

(Jiang Cheng: "Do you have to do this now?! Stop being indecent! There are children here. Also, we're all being held hostage.")

But it's all cool! Because shortly after realizing WWX was back and determined to live as a woman, LWJ speedran a sexuality crisis, flipped a mental switch, and essentially went, "I'm a lesbian now." (Or maybe LWJ was really confused about being attracted to WWX when they first met, because LWJ had only been physically attracted to her fellow female disciples up until then, so WWX seemed like the "exception", until WWX comes back from the dead as a woman and then it's like, "Ah. Not an exception after all.")

#transfem wei wuxian au #tossawary mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs genderbending au #fic ideas

[angelltheninth]

What are your fav romance tropes and to which TWST men would you give them to? Since they're fairy tail inspired anyways there's probably some you could apply to them easily.

As much as I like writing romance I'm not much of a romance movie watcher so everything I do say here will be based on... well mostly anime and fanfic stuff.

Pairing: Riddle, Leona, Azul, Kalim, Vil, Idia, Malleus x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, kissing, teasing, childhood friends, enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, sneaking around, secret relationships

A/N: All of these are also tropes I enjoy writing about a lot, which I'm sure you already know if you've been following me for a while.

Riddle is the shy, withdrawn love interest trope who wants to catch your eyes but doesn't know how to approach you. He spends a lot of his time watching you, blushing when you look at him but not approaching you. He honestly feels like he could wait forever for you, you're the apple of his eye, you're worth waiting for, and if needed worth fighting for but hopefully you can realize your feelings without it ever coming to that.

Leona is the cold shoulder trope. He wants to be left alone, he wants nothing to do with you at first and finds you annoying more then anything else. He can snap at other pretty easily which leads him to be branded a bad boy and delinquent, only adding to his isolation. He's not a brute, he just values his space, which you keep stepping in and making him lower his walls until eventually you're sitting shoulder to shoulder in the garden, him purring and his tail loosely wrapped around you.

Azul is the enemies to lovers trope. You heard many stories about him, you want nothing to do with him when you meet, hell you even see him doing shady things which only adds to your negative feelings. He seems to enjoy riling you up, thriving on it actually. He doesn't like you that much at first either, thinking you to be too much of a goody two shoes. It would be very fun if he could somehow get you on his side. If not he'll be happy with seeing you get flustered around him whenever he feels like he's won and kisses your cheek as a reward only for him.

Kalim is definitely the childhood friends to lovers trope, he has loved you since the day you met, but was never brave enough to say it. Even when you enrolled in the same school as him, the same class, he couldn't confess. It was only after he saw how popular you were that he started being more bold with his feelings towards you. He would talk about funny past memories, recalling the jokes and the sleepovers. In fact... you haven't had a sleepover in a while, what do you say? He'll leave the window open for you, just sneak in, just like old times. With... extra kisses maybe, if he confesses.

Vil is the popular guy in school trope. Everyone likes him, the students, the teachers, hell even the animals love him. Because of that he is a little hard to approach. Luckily you're the one that catches his eye, so he approaches you, much to the amazement of others. Compared to him you're boring, nothing special, but that is exactly why he wants you, someone who just transferred, someone new, someone exciting, fun. And you're a cute girl, how can he resist.

Idia is the guy next door trope. You see him every day but you don't know a lot about him when you first arrive. He's hard to get a hold of and not too sociable. At least you walk to school together so that's already more then most people get to see of him. Over time he begins to wait for you, bashfully offering you his jacket when its cold, or offering you his hand when it's windy. He definitely has a protective, soft side to him, and you are one of the few to see it.

Malleus is the quiet outcast, the one wolf, or dragon if you will. Besides his tight circle of friends he doesn't talk to many people so it's not easy to get ahold of him either. Well... he can talk to you quite easily, he wants to actually, he's very quick to develop feelings and worst yet he falls hard and fast. Once it starts it's not easy for him to shake and he's been hurt before, another reason why he tends to keep mostly to himself. If he opens up to you you might hurt him too. You won't will you? If were to kiss you, would you push him away?

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twisted wonderland imagine #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland fluff #twst imagines #twst headcanons #twst fluff #riddle x reader #leona x reader #azul x reader #kalim x reader #vil x reader #idia x reader #malleus x reader

[satorubrain]

Hiiiii hope you are doing good(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)

This is my first time requesting, so i am sorry if I made a mistake jshdjdj

I wanted to request gojo's reaction(?) to a s/o that bites him out of nowhere 😭. Like nothing serious, its just a silly thing they do where they will randomly grab his hand and just *big chomp*

Thank you, have a nice day<333

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Reader.

Tags: FLUFF. FLUFF. FLUFF. SILLY. Crack. Both are teacher sorcerers working at tokyo jujutsu high

Synopsis: As your relationship progresses and the more you open yourself to him, the more he is able to discover your silly little habits. He can't help but fall in love with you more.

A/N: BITING IS THE GREATEST LOVE LANGUAGE. ITS PEAK ROMANCE!!!!!!! I hope you don't mind me adding a few more elements to the story! Also anon don't worry you made no mistakes while requesting 💕💕

It had been two months since you started dating and Satoru couldn't help but fall for you harder and deeper. How can he not, especially when you were so cute. Whenever he thought he couldn't find something new about you, especially after knowing you for years, you somehow managed to surprise him with your quirks.

You had been staring at him, or rather his cheeks for a solid minute now, thinking intensely about something with your eyebrows furrowed. It was getting harder to resist. You've controlled yourself for years and now that he's your boyfriend, your brain forgot about it.

"Babe, you've been drilling a hole in my face, did something happen?" Satoru inquires.

"Your cheeks are so bitable Satoru." You answer. Before Satoru could respond he felt a soft chomp on his cheeks. It won't leave a mark but it was cute. He's sure his heart is going to jump out of his throat, you're way too adorable.

"soff" you mumble nomming on his cheek a bit before releasing it quickly after a few seconds and wiping it down giggling "well that was pretty satisf-"

He couldn't help but pull you into a deep kiss there and then, pulling you onto his lap, uncaring of anyone who might walk into the empty classroom. He soon breaks the kiss, cupping your cheeks.

"god y/n, you're driving me insane here" he whispers breathlessly, his mind numb and cheeks flushed red by your actions.

As time passes and your relationship finally gets public, your pda also increases.

He loves how you would greet him by running up to him, standing on your tippy toes, raising your arms to cup his cheeks and squishing them before pulling him down to give him a quick peck on his nose "G'morning cutie!!" you'd squeel and run away before he could react in return.

His heart flutters when he sees you open the door to the empty classroom he's sitting in, tapping every inch of his face for no reason before giving a peck on his nose, causing both of you to giggle.

He's calm and peaceful, his heart full of love when you hold him in your embrace, gently swaying you both, softly humming to a tone on the cold and dark nights when Satoru finds it hard to even breathe. But your warmth blows air into his lungs and your sweet sound calms down his senses. At this moment, for him, only the two of you exist.

"What are you doing, my sweet kirby?" Satoru asks with a stupid grin on his face as he lovingly looks at you who is making circles with your index fingers in front of him

"hmmm.... hypnotizing you" you chuckle, your eyes crinkling as you think of a reason for your actions "perhaps to make my fiancé fall for me even harder?"

"is that so? Well then I think it's working very well" he giggles as he pulls you closer to him by your hands, making them wrap around his neck as his cling around your waist.

The lovestruck man named Gojo Satoru didn't lie, since he did fell deeper in the bottomless abyss of your love every passing second.

ANONNNNN I HAD SO MUCH FUN WRITING THIS ILY FOR REQUESTING THIS <3

[REQUESTS ARE OPEN]

[MASTERLIST]

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo imagine #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #gojo fanfic #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk fanfic

[silverofthunder]

— play with me —

Papa Emeritus I (Primo) x Female Reader || 🔞

summary: ”You can play with me whenever you want.”

content: 1.1k words, romance, vampire!Primo, blood drinking, suggestive touching, maybe some dom/sub nuances

Oh well, what can I say? I just couldn't resist. The ending is not quite how I wanted it to be but I guess this is okay. Had fun writing this, anyway, so that's what matters. Enjoy!

It was so quiet at the Ministry library that you could have heard a needle drop to the floor. You were sitting on the armchair in one of the lounge corners, reading some old romance novel you had happened to find. The library had closed about a few hours ago but no one really cared if someone would stay there even for the whole night so you enjoyed the quiet and focused on reading. Romance wasn't usually your first choice yet you had decided to give this one a chance and the story had actually captured you pretty much right from the start. It wasn't a typical happy romance – there were some dark undertones and bittersweetness in it and it had drawn you right in. Everything was described so palpable that you could feel the thrill of the main characters when they interacted with each other.

A slight creak reached then your ears, startling you and your head shot up, gaze trying to see if there was someone else joining you. However, you couldn't see anything past the light, only darkness between and with a sigh and a shrug, you returned to reading again. Only a few sentences later, there was another sound, this time like a wind blowing and you wondered if someone had actually come and opened window for some reason. You didn't usually get scared easily but as the sound seemed to get louder, you felt your hearbeat fasten, chills running over your skin. Focusing on the words on the page seemed to be the best idea, so that your imagination wouldn't get too wild. There really wasn't any threats at the Ministry, someone was probably just messing with you.

As a pair of hands wrapped around your neck from behind soon, you stopped breathing for a second. The hands felt cool against your skin, the touch making you shiver. Gently they tilted your head and then you sensed someone leaning to spoke right into your ear. "Reading something good, cara mio?" That deep, yet soft voice with a hint of danger was enough to make you relax and you hummed in reply, your lips spreading into a smile. You turned your head, seeing Primo there, looking at you with undeniable hunger. His fingers ghosted over your neck, slowly, examining, and you knew what he was after. "Looking for a snack, perhaps?" you smirked, pulling your hair out of the way and tilting your head more to tease Primo. Primo let out a low growl, placing then a kiss right under your ear. "Wouldn't say no to a small taste," Primo said, and you chuckled. Of course he wouldn't say no.

"Go ahead, my love," you gave a permission, and Primo didn't need to be told twice as he pressed his mouth against your neck and then there was a sharp sting as his fangs pieced your skin. The pain hit soon, still feeling a bit unpleasant even though you had gone through this several times. You gasped as Primo started sucking your blood, the pain slowly subsiding as the venom numbed it. Primo moaned against your skin, sliding his other hand down to cup your breast – a good thing that you had no bra on this time – and you drew in a sharp breath, feeling the heat gathering in your core. You grabbed your thigh with your hand, fingertips digging into the clothed flesh while your other hand tightened its hold of the book. Primo caressed your breast with skilled moves, his thumb pinching your hardened nipple, your shirt only adding to the feeling, the fabric causing more friction and your breath hitched.

"You want more than blood, huh?" you managed to ask and Primo hummed into your skin, the vibrations coursing through your body. He continued sucking and caressing you for a while, and just as you could have been ready for more, he withdrew his hands and fangs, running his tongue over the spot he had bitten. "Maybe later," he now answered to your question, then taking a hold of your chin and turning your head so that he could seal your lips in a kiss. You could taste your own blood on his lips, the metallic nuance of it mixing with something more earthly. Something purely Primo. When Primo started to pull away, you tried to chase his lips and he chuckled, gently stopping you. "Always so eager," he spoke sofly, his eyes filled with satisfaction and adoration as he looked at you. "Ti amo, bella mio."

Your heart fluttered, a warm smile spreading onto your lips.

”I love you, too.”

A moment of silence passed between you and you decided to abandon the romance novel – you could always come back to it later and you probably would do so as the story was way too intriguing to leave unread. You set the book on the nearest table and stood up, approaching Primo who was watching you intensively. You stopped right in front of him, lifting your hand up and hooking your finger on the collar of his robe, giving it a light tuck.

”Did you try to scare me before coming to me?” you asked, brow quirking up. Primo shook his head but the way the corners of his mouth twitched, gave you a different message.

”It didn’t work that well.”

”Your heartbeat told otherwise,” Primo stated, smirking, and you shook your head.

”I wasn’t actually scared.”

Primo chuckled lightly and before you even realized he had you pinned against the wall, his hand around your throat. He bared his fangs, leaning closer to you and inhaling your scent.

”Apologies, my dearest,” he said, giving a quick peck on your lips. ”But I needed some thrill before having a snack.”

You weren’t surprised by that and you couldn’t blame Primo for chasing that feeling of thrill of making the prey scared. It was only natural for his kind. And considering the situation you were basically his prey, a personal supply.

”You can play with me whenever you want.”

That seemed to please Primo, the look in his eyes darkening, his hand moving from your throat and tangling in your hair. Then he kissed you hard and demanding, his free hand snaking around you and pulling you flush against him. You grabbed a handful of his robes on his sides, and when he tucked at your hair lightly, you moaned, your knees buckling.

He kissed you until you were running out of breath, only then pulling back, and searching for your gaze. You looked at him under your lashes, breathing heavily and lips tingling. There was a satisfied smile on Primo’s lips, his dark gaze now having a warmer edge as he untangled his hand from your hair and slid it under your chin.

”Oh, you really know how to please your man.”

You flashed Primo a teasing smile.

”What makes you happy, makes me happy, too.”

#primo x reader #papa emeritus i x reader #ghost band fic #ghost band fanfic #jen writes fics

[purlturtle]

Romance Tropes Bracket, Semi-Finals!

The Battle of the Quadrant Winners!

I'm gonna go into some more detail on the winners (and losers) again, so again I'll put it under the readmore.

Left-hand side

I've said it before, but none of the tropes in the red quadrant really did it for me - and this carries through to the bracket between Second Chances and Holiday Romance.

Holiday Romance is absolutely great and good for what it is, and stories that revolve around it/use it as a basis can be the perfect read I reach for when I feel like it. It can carry familial conflict, for queer stories additionally coming-out-to-your-family dynamics, it allows for interesting exploration of culture and traditions especially if the story is about a cross-cultural couple. And since it's often set in Northern hemisphere wintertime, there are winter wonderland themes that I also truly enjoy. It is fitting that it should advance to the semi-finals - but it is also okay that this is where its run ends.

Second Chances, though. It's not quite enemies to lovers - it's people who have hurt each other in the past, and need to deal with that to find happiness in the now. Or maybe two (or, hell, more!) people weren't the right people back then, but they are the right people now. (This pertains, for example, to my oldest of all ships, Deanna Troi and Will Riker. Mutual annoyance to lovers to ex-lovers to co-workers to friends to lovers? FUCK ME it's so good.) It's about being honest about what you did and how that hurt them, the why's of what you did and the ways you've changed since then, the hope that the other person (or persons) might acknowledge that and forgive you, the work you need to do to forgive yourself - the tentative hope that there might be a happy ending possible after all that? the despair that it might not? Oh it is delicious (and also a big part of my all-time favorite ship, Bering and Wells. They have Second Chances written all over them in big capital italicized letters.)

So, yeah, Second Chances it is.

Right-hand side

This was an even stronger fight: Forced Proximity vs. Friends to Lovers?! How dare this bracket make me choose!!

I'll start with the defeated trope again: Friends to Lovers. I love it. I really, really, really love it. It has so much: mutual trust and affection, the realization that there is something more (and how deliciously long that sometimes take, when the protagonist(s) are just too dense to figure it out, or too scared to even acknowledge it to themselves!), the worry that it might not be mutual, the agonizing about "Do I tell them and risk destroying what we have if they don't feel the same?". And the shining brightness and happiness of "I can have it *all*? I can have friendship AND love? With *them*??!" And if the story continues on, also the way that some dynamics change and some stay the same, the negotiation which the couple (or polycule) wants to change or not, the way that how others see them might change - so much potential, so many things to love. It's both gentle and nerve-wracking, it's such a good trope - and then there's Forced Proximity.

I mean ideally the two go hand-in-hand, right? Have your friends-to-lovers protagonists, still at that "I don't know if they love me back aaaaahhhh I can't risk it!!" stage, and toss them into forced proximity until they *have* to come clean. But, one must win. Only one can move forward! 😭 And I couldn't resist the strength of the impulse to bang my blorbos together and make them kiss (eventually). To put them in scenario after scenario in which they are stuck with each other and nothing else to do but Talk About Their Feelings - Or Make Out. @performativezippers you mentioned that specific queer situation of having confusing feelings for your same-gender friend in your write-up for friends-to-lovers; I agree - and I often find that a Forced Proximity moment can help with that and also can lead to confessing or acting on one's feelings, and *that* part of it, I find so very compelling. The resolution, for which forced proximity is such a good catalyst!

It wins out by the skin of its teeth, by that very virtue of being the catalyst and moment of resolution rather than all that's gone before. Honestly though? Run this bracket again in three weeks and it might win out. They are both that strong.

#romance tropes bracket #semi-finals #second chances #holiday romance #forced proximity #friends to lovers #shit man this was HARD

[abitohoney]

Hello dear! 😊 I couldn't help but read the tags of your reblog of my Grayson/Mel fanart!! I also happen to know that you have very good headcanons and write equally good stories 😉 No wonder, that I got curious and decided to drop you this little ask about my favourite ship, hehe. So, what are your thoughts about Grayson x Mel, what kind of dynamic can you imagine them to have?? 🤓 Also, I've happened to see your queue of fics your working on and almost fell off my chair in excitement, because it lists "power bottom Grayson"!!! I've always seen her as top, with Mel being more of a power bottom/brat. But I also hc that Grayson has her moments where she doesn't mind Mel being the top. What do you say? Does this spark any ideas that you might provide for further inspiration? 😇

Oh my goodness, I can barely get past your first sentence. You called me "dear". You've got me over here blushing. That's so en-dear-ing! 😜 And then you follow that up with such nice compliments?! *blush intensifies* Thank you!

My thoughts on your favorite ship? Well, I honestly hadn't even considered it until I saw that lovely art of yours, but here are some thoughts that come to mind at the moment. I did try to sorta organize my thoughts, but not sure I did so well. My apologies for that. Also, a little lengthy, so below the cut...

(Bonus: a couple of my fav screenshots of these two)

SFW

So I could actually see their relationship starting out as a friendship or a sort of mentor-type relationship. Mel doesn't seem to have the best relationship with her mother, so I could see her really leaning on Grayson not only as someone with more life experience, but also as someone who more aligns with her own beliefs and values than her mom. Grayson is certainly no pushover, but she is considerably more compassionate and empathetic.

Of course, that friendship would eventually bloom into romance. (Not sure how either could possibly resist the other.)

I could see either being the one to finally take it to the next level. Or honestly, it could be neither of them. It could just happen naturally, perhaps without either even realizing it.

Maybe they go on lunch dates initially (as friends or even colleagues depending on if we're talking canon universe or AU). But their conversations always tend to start drifting to more personal subjects. And eventually, it may even lead to a majority of their chats being personal.

They both start to slowly incorporate soft, intimate touches. Like Mel placing those delicate fingers of hers on the backs of Grayson's hands whenever Grayson is feeling weighed down by her work. And Grayson pressing her hand against the small of Mel's back when she guides her through the crowds. Or pulling her chair out for her. (I love to think of Grayson as being very debonair. Such a gentlewoman.)

Then lunches turn into dinners at a fancy restaurant, and those eventually turn into home-cooked dinners at Grayson's (that they cook together!) Next thing you know, they're sharing a bottle of Chardonnay and their true feelings start to bubble to the surface.

I also HC them being big on witty banter. They're both highly intelligent and quick-witted. Lots of flirting, teasing, and just a battle of quips. And really, I think they'd be evenly matched. One of them would have to break eventually, but it changes from day to day.

Gonna throw in a random idea here for... IDK, a prompt, or maybe just how they end up starting to see more of each other. Perhaps the council is suddenly in danger. Maybe a series of death threats are made to the council. So each member ends up being assigned a high-ranking officer to be a bodyguard of sorts. And wouldn't you know it, Mel is the lucky one to have Grayson as her protector. So of course, they end up spending quite a lot of time together. And with time, feelings arise. Plus there could be some thrilling moments in which Mel does actually find herself in danger, where her heroine Grayson has to save/protect her!

NSFW-ish

I 100% agree with you that, at least in most cases, Mel is very much a power bottom (and rather bratty about it).

Also, I see Grayson primarily as a service top. More than happy to oblige Mel.

I imagine Mel being a bit impatient, but playfully so (goes right along with the whole bratty bottom). She's not mean or nasty by any means. Sort of teasing Grayson for taking her damn sweet time when they are between the sheets. Not that she doesn't enjoy or even expect some foreplay. She just has her limits.

But Grayson would enjoy just playing along. She'd dish whatever smart remark Mel makes right back at her. More of that fun, witty banter dynamic I mentioned earlier.

"Grayson, honey, if I'd wanted nothing more than a massage I'd have brought in a masseuse."

"So sorry darling, I had no idea you had someplace to be on this Saturday evening."

Although I think Grayson could also just simply play nice and indulge her impatient, albeit sweet, Mel. Tame the brat with sweet words, agreeing to anything Mel demanded with a whispered, "Of course, love." Or "Yes, darling." Following each up with a tender kiss or a gentle touch.

Okay, so maybe this one is a little random, but seeing how much Mel likes to paint, I could totally see her insisting that she paint a nude portrait of Grayson. It would probably take some convincing. Not that Grayson is shy, but more so that she is a bit modest. But with enough of Mel's smooth sweet talk and flattery (commenting on how gorgeous Grayson is) I think Grayson would cave.

Also, in regards to the power bottom Grayson request in my queue; that poor thing has been sitting there for months. I've been too distracted by other things and then I had some trouble deciding how I wanted to implement it. However, it is with my beta right now, so hopefully it will be posted soon!

Thank you for the ask! It was fun to think about this rare pair! <3

#arcane #Grayson #Mel #Grayson x Mel #arcane Grayson #arcane Mel #arcane headcanon #honey writes

[newtonsheffield]

MOLLY OH MY GOD THAT WAS SO SOFT AND WONDERFUL AND I JUST LOVE THESE TWO ENDLESSLY 🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭

Truly the best part of it all is how adeptly and fiercely Anthony wants to support Kate and be there for her. It feels so important because I feel like so often in Kanthony fics (and even S2) it’s Kate supporting him. His desperation to love her and ensure she feels that love even if he struggles to say it is just so wonderful. He is a man of action after all!! And then of course our boy pulls through and becomes a man of words as well!!

Bless these two idiots and bless you for bringing us this story!!! It is endlessly special!! ❤️❤️❤️

I think for this Anthony particularly, discussing his feelings even after Kate's told him of her own is difficult for him. He told her when they first married that he didn't think his love was worth anything at all, and while he doesn't resent Violet for dying, the way in which she died has left him with a few scars. And even without all that, Anthony grew up in the country, he's a farmer, they don't oft have time to write poetry but he thinks if he can just show her how he feels she'll know.

For this Anthony, acts of service are huge. He would do anything for her, even before they fell in love, because that's his wife but now he just wants to make sure she feels as loved and supported and cared for as he does by her. He's not really used to having someone worry over the fact he hurt his arm working and it honestly felt nice to have that. It felt soft and gentle and he's sure Kate feels the same. He wants to make life easier for her where he can. He can't do a lot for her, his name won't bring her any social standing outside their little village and all he has to pass on to their children is this land but he can do little things. He can carry her parcels for her when they go into town and he can make sure she's nice dresses, and he can build her a rocking chair and a cradle for their child. He can do that much, even if he struggles to articulate how he feels sometimes.

And I know you all got annoyed with the slow burn but this is why it was needed. Because they know one another now. If they'd started the physical side of their relationship without building the base of emotional understanding that they have, it only would have lead to more angst and He doesn't feel the same way. But Kate loves her husband, and she knows him, and she knows that he loves her because he can feel it. Even if it's difficult for him to say. So she doesn't need him to say it.

But I couldn't resist the urge to have Anthony leap from horseback to tell Kate he loves her. That's peak romance to me.

#you might have some bruises #kathony #anthony x kate #kate sharma #kate sheffield #anthony bridgerton #molly’s asks and answers

[astroboots]

I was in a really strange mood the other day. Not sure what it was exactly - the spring, something in the water, retrograde Mercury...Whatever it was, it set me aflame with the desire for Oscar Isaac. That feeling is not a new one, but the intensity it hit me with was pretty remarkable even for me. So I did what every logical person would've done - got here to get myself some gorgeous gifs of his.

Long story short, a couple of hours and several delicious gifs later, I started to think that maybe it's a good idea to read something. Well, I actually specifically didn't want to read shit, but there were just two many texts coming my way, upon thirst scrolling. So, while I was half-heartedly trying to drive these thoughts away with an imaginary stick, I came upon the "Red Flags." And was met with something I can't fucking resist - long chapters.

I read all sorts of different fanfics for all sorts of different reasons. We all have our own preferences, and I am trying not to concentrate on mine all that often, because it will just result in me reading only specific things, and there is a chance I'll miss something really good.

But I still do have those preferences. And for me, THE most important thing in the story is for the characters to feel like themselves from the original incarnation. Not to a tea, perhaps. Not always, at least. But I want to read something they do and go: "Yeep, that's them. That's exactly how they would've acted. "

I've read a lot of absolutely brilliant stories that I see more like an AU situation. Great storytelling, amazing characters - it's all there. But the characters just don't feel the same to me. It doesn't make the story bad whatsoever. It's just a separate category for me.

And then there are those VERY rare ones that are just making every single thing right in my eyes. Of course, these things are objective. Of course, it's only based on what I personally want to see. But when I find them, I'm treating them like an absolute treasure.

Which leads us to the "Red Flags." The story that got me so invested that I ended up reading it till 3 in the morning because I just couldn't bring myself to separate with these characters.

After the series, Steven got so much love. Which is completely understandable. He is an adorable, goofy, absolutely charming idiot that you just want to be around. But I don't think Marc himself is getting enough appreciation. Which he should.

The way he was written here made my heart ache. He was portrayed so real, I was sometimes sure I could touch him through the screen of my phone. The man was so broken on such a deep level that he had to create a happy version of himself, to be able to cope with trauma. The man, who is denying himself happiness because he doesn't think he deserves it. The man, who is willing to give every single good thing in his life to his alter ego, whom he sees as a pure and sweet person.

One of the most realistic main heroines I've seen in fan fiction - just like her, I wanted to grab him, shake him up, and scream that he deserves love, deserves to be cared for, deserves being looked after and to be able to just be himself around a person, who loves him. To let someone love him. He doesn't deserve to be shout at, though. Doesn't matter if it comes from a place of genuine care. I'd kill for this man. Got every last bit of patience out of me to help him see how much he is loved and needed. How beautiful, how kind, and caring he actually is. How empathetic he is. How, no matter what little he thinks of himself, he is a whole world.

It's not even just the romance, but how he treats Steven, too. It's just beyond words. I never thought about it that way, but it was so heartbreaking to see that he went far and beyond with writing Steven cards from their mom. He did not have to do it, but he wanted Steven to feel loved. Something that he never got himself. The man, who grew up abused and hated by his own mother, who drew so many walls around himself, still remained a kind soul behind it all.

I want you to know that by now, I've read it twice over, and I'll be absolutely doing it again. Alongside all the one shots. No idea if it was intended that way or not, but they absolutely do read like a continuation of the main story.

I don't really have the words to describe how much I loved it and how I fell in love with every aspect of it. But I just need to thank you and your wonderful co-writer for giving us (well, me, personally😇) the privilege to read something that extraordinary🥰💙🥂

Hello lovely!!!!!

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to answer this. When I received this ask this week my face and soul lit up. It's so kind and sweet of you to take the time to write this and send it. I really appreciate you so much.

I'm so glad that you felt that the characters read like they were in their original MCU universes. It's something that I completely owe @thirstworldproblemss too she has an insane knack for storytelling and character voices that blows me away everytime. Between the two of us i'm the one living in London and yet I have a Transatlantic accent and I don't ever use British slang, and she was the one who had to britishify Steven and she did it with such skills I'm in awe of her always.

But also the characterisation of Marc, once again I owe so much to her, because she's the one who broke down the character and made me appreciate all the beautiful, heartbreaking layers of his character.

Red Flags has been such an absolute beast to write and taught me so much about long-form story telling and it has an incredibly special place in my heart and to know that people are still reading it, and that you had such a strong reaction to it fills me with immense joy. Thank you so much once again for reaching out! I adore you.

#red flags asks #💌 asks

[ae-neon]

The Inner Circle Are Too Old

I promise you ACOTAR would improve by 37.4% if Tamlin, Rhysand, Mor, Cassian and Azriel were young adult fae like Tarquin instead of them being age mates with Beron and Helion.

The whole inner circle is old enough to be Lucien's parents.

Do you know how long 500 years is? Too long. Even if we relate the ages, the IC are at least 40 upwards.

Age itself isn't bad thing, aging doesn't strip away personality or magically make you act a certain way (especially if your body was young and powerful) but their actions and words a lot of the time lack the perspective and experience that time would give them.

Aging them down would also lessen the power and experience gap between the romantic leads. A fae in his 80's like Tarquin has already lived almost 4 times the Archerons' lives and experienced so much they can't but because he's still considered quite young for a fae it doesn't feel like there's as big of a gap.

So...just don't make them that old? It's super simple but it makes the characters so much more understandable.

Of course this view is compounded by the tendency to reduce characters to a handful of key traits and aesthetic cues that's common in fandom but I think in her writing sjm leans into that sort of stuff, and away from nuance.

Eg young adult girlboss who is actually extremely powerful and a powerful warrior man hundreds of years older than her, started off rocky but they couldn't resist each other and found true love through animalistic sex and a mating bond.

Forget specific characters, it would be hard to even guess what series this is referring to. Because it's all of them.

Once again I'm veering off topic but what I'm tryna say is age gaps in fantasy romances probably aren't going anyway but I don't wanna read about sexy grandpas anymore.

If I got isekai'd into a story as the most powerful snowflake and an ancient man got on my nerves I'd just kill him ngl 🤷🏻‍♀️

#acotar #sjm critical #anti ic #anti feysand #anti nessian

[mediaevalmusereads]

Beauty and the Blacksmith. By Tessa Dare. Avon, 2013.

Rating: 3/5 stars

Genre: historical romance, novella

Part of a Series? Yes, Spindle Cove #3.5

Summary: Beautiful and elegant, Miss Diana Highwood is destined to marry a wealthy, well-placed nobleman. At least, that's what her mother has loudly declared to everyone in Spindle Cove.

But Diana's not excited by dukes and lords. The only man who makes her heart pound is the village blacksmith, Aaron Dawes. By birth and fortune, they couldn't be more wrong for each other...but during stolen, steamy moments in his forge, his strong hands feel so right.

Is their love forged strong enough to last, or are they just playing with fire?

***Full review below.***

Content Warnings: blood, danger associated with armed robbery, graphic sexual content

Overview: I completely blanked on the fact that there are a couple of novellas in this series, so here we are. I was looking forward to this novella because I'm getting a little tired of romances about titled heroes; a working class hero sounds like just the thing to shake things up. Unfortunately, I didn't find this book to quite live up to my expectations. While I don't think anything was "bad," I just personally wished the narrative was a little more robust. As it stands, the non-romance plot doesn't seem to support the stakes of the love story, so for that reason, this book gets 3 stars from me.

Writing: Dare's writing in this novella is comparable to the prose in the rest of the Spindle Cove series. It's quick, funny, and well-balanced, and if you're an avid romance reader, it will be pleasantly familiar. I don't have much to add that I haven't already said in other reviews.

Plot: The non-romance plot of this book follows Diana Highwood, the eldest daughter of the Highwood family, as she contemplates resisting her mother's efforts to marry her off to a titled gentleman. Diana has been living in a gilded cage her whole life; as the most beautiful of the Highwood daughters, her mother has always insisted that Diana would be the one to marry well and secure the family's future. However, Diana wishes to live her life for herself, and she plans to start doing so by pursuing her two year attraction to the village blacksmith, Aaron Dawes.

While I found the premise of this plot to be intriguing, in practice, it didn't quite play out in a way that I found satisfying. The narrative didn't do much to challenge the characters to grow or evolve and heavily featured some threads that turned out to have little consequence. For example, a chunk of this novella is devoted to preparing for a dramatic production of the legend of St. Ursula, with Diana cast as the lead in order to woo the titled host. However, I didn't necessarily feel like the play was doing much for Diana's development, and it felt more tedious to read about than exciting or engaging.

The subplot featuring the string of thefts was also fairly dull, as I didn't feel invested in it until it had the potential to affect Diana towards the end. I was surprised that no one tried to pin the crimes on Aaron, who was of a lower class, as that would have provided some ferile ground for exploring class issues in more depth. And I don't say this because I just want to novella to be about class; the class difference is a major issue in the protagonists' relationship, and I wish Dare had done more to show how different Diana's and Aaron's worlds are.

Characters: Diana, our heroine, is sympathetic in that she feels the heavy burden of being the sole source of hope for her family's future. I liked that much of her arc involved asserting her own desires and forging her own path rather than letting her mother dictate it instead. I do wish there had been more moments that built up her confidence, though. As it stands, it didn't feel like Diana was evolving so much as just deciding to be herself.

Aaron, our hero, is likable in that he's a warm, affectionate man who trusts Diana to assert her desires. But as likable as he is, I do wish Aaron had more of a personal arc; most of what he does is waver back and forth between caring about class difference and not caring, and the wavering made for an evolution that didn't quite feel believable.

Supporting characters are fine, though I don't have too much to say about them. They seem to do their jobs and then quickly disappear, but since this book is a novella, it didn't really bother me.

Romance: Diana and Aaron's romance is sweet but doesn't grow too much. While I really liked that their evolution as a couple included not caring about what other people think of their class difference, it also felt like they didn't grow much at all. At the beginning of this book, the two have been pining for each other for two years, so by the time they finally give themselves permission to be with each other, it seems like they're already in love. Personally, I most enjoy romance when I get to see how a couple goes from initial attraction to a deeper emotional intimacy, and it seemed like most of that development happened off page.

TL;DR: Beauty and the Blacksmith is refreshing in that it's not a love story involving a titled hero, but stumbles when it comes to building a meaningful plot. A lot of the love story seems to have already developed off page, and the main narrative doesn't do much to help the protagonists grow together as a couple.

[starswallowingsea]

conjure up everything you have cause I want to know if you have any book recommendations (any genre will do)

BOY DO I. I ended up going off on all of these but know that I love all of these books deeply.

So first off I have to mention Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein. I read this book for the first time when I was 16 and it changed who I am as a person. Also I picked two of my names from this book. It starts off as a kind of journal/diary/confession of our main character (Queenie) about her time in a Nazi prison in France after being caught while trying to infiltrate the country. They tell her to tell them everything she knows about the Allied war effort, specifically looking at aerial assaults, which gives Queenie an excuse to talk about how she met her best friend. The buys her time for a while, as she does sprinkle in what looks like useful information into her narrative but eventually her time runs out. Make no mistake, this book is a tragedy and will tear your heart out in more ways than one. It's very slow going but I promise it'll be worth it if you can get into it.

In the same vein, I also recently finished the Paris Orphan by Natasha Lester. This book follows a model turned journalist named Jessica May (based on the actual photographer Lee Miller) as she deals with sexism and misogyny during the war effort in trying to do what she wants to do, which is reporting on the war front. Jess meets a soldier named Dan who she instantly connects with while trying not to die in a trench because the field hospital she was supposed to be stationed at turned out to be under fire, and he introduces her to a child he has been looking after since his brother was killed (it's not his brother's child, she's the child of two French citizens who were trying to flee the country and couldn't take a child with them, but she takes to Jess and Dan as her parental figures very quickly). This one is also a bit heavier and includes suicide and rape, but it is still very very good.

Next I'll jump briefly to non-fiction and recommend the book T. Rex and the Crater of Doom by Walter Alvarez. It's written by one of the lead scientists trying to figure out what killed the dinosaurs 65 million years ago. While it is about geology and physics, it's not too dense and written in a way most people will understand what's going on, and explanations are provided for anything that wouldn't be comprehensible to the average lay person. Absolutely fascinating read.

Then we have an Ember in the Ashes by Sabaa Tahir. I found this one on youtube and it sounded interesting and boy was it. It's a fantasy novel set in the Middle East/Western Asia and incorporates the culture into the story very well. It follows two main characters, the son of the overbearing military leader who just wants to run away and live a quiet life and the daughter of two scholars who wants to see her people free to live their lives without fear of being enslaved. Laia, the scholar girl, watches her only remaining family killed and imprisoned before her very eyes, barely managing to escape herself and looks for help in the resistance. Elias, the military leader's son, is planning on running away to the South before he is nominated to take part in a series of trials to become the next Emperor and decides to stay. While I wasn't the biggest fan of the romance in this book, it's not overbearing. Content warnings for violence, death, rape, and slavery for this one.

And finally, Cain by Jose Saramago. This one was recommended to me by one of my professors last semester and it's a relatively quick read at like 160 pages. It's a bible retelling focusing on Cain, where he is cursed by God to wander the world for the rest of his days. He finds himself traveling through time (or in the words of the book, different presents) and interrupting different bible stories to spite God. The writing style takes a little bit to get used to as it's just very long sentences with dialogue only indicated by the usage of capital letters starting new dialogue tags, but it doesn't take very long to get used to it. As for content warnings, if you'd find it in the bible you'll find it here (death, rape, incest mentions).

#five books but i wrote way too much about all of them ajdsofpiads #message in a bottle #zodiacs labyrinth #code name verity #the paris orphan #t rex and the crater of doom #an ember in the ashes #cain #bookblr #book recommendations

[delunesnumberonefan]

🐱

🌄

📝

🐱 - boop!

EGADS I'VE BEEN BOOPED

🌄 - tell me something good about your day

i'm getting to sit at home by myself, relax, and chat with my best friend while i idly snack and tinker on a fic. SPEAKING OF

📝 - tell me about a project you're working on, or share something from a WIP

oh boy. here we go. strap up, strap on, strap in, it's going under the cut

as some of you may know, my boyfriend (chase) is running a dnd campaign (love and war). we're doing the pipe dream stuff regarding our (the polycule's) writing and editing stuff (summer is the best editor in the world i trust her with my life) along with chase's growing connections in the film industry. again, pipe dream stuff--but if we don't try how will we ever get there? shooting for the moon and all that.

so, i've been slowly but surely writing Big Important Book Stuff. I've written 150k words about love and war since it started in late feb of 2023---69k words in 2023, and 81k in the first quarter of 2024. thank god for a kickass new adhd medication, am i right. i am so unstoppable.

...not all of it is book stuff?? i, being myself, have written a copious amount of noncanon, outside the scope of the books, and plain ol smut. i'm obsessed with Saskia, of course i have.

Some of the stuff i've written in the past is going in various epilogues, but for the most part I am trying to stick with solely Lost and Gilt for povs. and its going really well!! i'm really enjoying it. turns out these two are who the story is about and i love them to bits actually.

premise of the campaign, for those who don't know: Summer's character Lost was a tiefling child of the Valentine House, one of the ruling houses of the Eldari Empire. Because she was a tiefling and therefore a sign of their dealings with demons (Valentines being the Conjuration House), was hidden away in the basement for her entire life. One day, due to some Shit, they were going to have her killed. Lost's mother figure, her best friend, the one who raised her, helped her escape into the woods.

My character Gilt, being a bodyguard for this house, was the one ordered to kill "the monster in the basement." She was a painfully lawful good oath of the crown paladin who took one look at Lost (an 18 year old girl sobbing her eyes out on the forest floor), realized her only crime was being born a tiefling, and refused to do it. In refusing to take an innocent life, she broke her oath of the crown.

Gilt decided that the only course of action was to take Lost to somewhere that the Valentines couldn't reach her, which kicked off the whole campaign.

So we got sapphic protagonists, high stakes, mystery and intrigue regarding what the hell happened, here. We got family drama, family bonds, powers at war, action, adventure, romance, abuse, healing, grief. With a side of monster fucking, buff women, parental issues, silliness, and Lost accidentally turning into a goat until sunset during our first meeting with a potential ally.

We love this campaign.

the fic i'm tinkering on would be an epilogue between the main villain (saskia valentine) (are you surprised I fell for the villain? you fool. she's a mom and she only fucks monsters. how was i supposed to resist that) and her right hand general (a fearsome demon lord from the abyss) who is also fucking head over heels stupid for Saskia.

it's belialah. you might see me tag saskia and belialah sometimes. I love them to absolute pieces. saskia is an elf (shortest shorty of the matriarchs) and belialah takes the form of a mortal most of the time because saskia sits there consumed with lust if she's in her demon form because it's distracting.

so anyway, we see bits of them in epilogues and little snippets here and there. I'd like to build them up more as like. they have crazy sexual tension all the time and belialah is wanting to smash to the detriment of her self, her reputation, her well being, etc. Saskia is refusing to smash because she's powersexual first and monstersexual second and her whole thing is "how does this further my goals"

BUT because I want them to be narrative foils of gilt and lost, they're getting together.

and i finally found a way to do it!! a moment of weakness on saskia's part that leaves her insecure enough that when belialah shoots her shot (more directly than before), saskia says yes. then they have weird nasty monster sex.

it's wonderful. i love them. I have sketches and such that I should post. i'll make another post in a sec.

#roselyn talks #asks #i know i have a different tag for asks but i forgor #roselyn's writing process #love and war #chase tag #summer tag #saskia tag #belialah tag #gilt tag #lost tag #golden fleece #the empress and her shadow #...i think that's it

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Suddenly This Summer

Three small town romances that provide a variety of characters, issues to be dealt with, and happily ever afters that made the characters – and me – happy. Getting to read two new-to-me authors that I would read again was also a treat.

Susan Mallery’s SAY YOU’LL STAY sees Lawson and Shaye meet on the street, spend some time together during Christmas in July and wonder if it would be a fleeting moment that will quickly pass them by or perhaps provide a future for them together.

Synthia Williams’s THIS TIME FOR KEEPS Michaela and Khalil circling one another with one ready to commit and the other unable to trust that this time it will really work for them. Is the time finally right for this couple and if so, how will it come about?

Stefanie London’s BEST MAN NEXT DOOR was a surprise and my favorite of the three stories. Sage and Jamie were wonderful people that so deserved to be together. I loved everything about this story though I wished that both characters had not had to go through difficult times to achieve the maturity they did.

Thank you to NetGalley and Harlequin Trade Publishing for the ARC – This is my honest review.

4-5 Stars

BLURB

Nothing is sweeter than the first kiss of summer...

SAY YOU'LL STAY by Susan Mallery. Shaye Harper has sworn off men for good. But when she meets army vet Lawson Easley during a pit stop on the road to a fresh start, she’s drawn in by the quirky town—and the handsome stranger she can’t resist. Lawson knows there’s no place better than Wishing Tree. Too bad the woman he's certain is “the one” is just passing through…unless he can convince her to give him and his hometown a chance at forever.

THE TIME FOR KEEPS  by Synithia Williams. Home to care for her ailing father, Michaela Spears is on a mission: reconcile with the one man she can’t forget. She broke his heart years ago, so when Khalil appears on her parents’ doorstep in his scrubs, she knows it’s her last chance. Khalil Davenport shouldn’t have taken the job as her dad’s home nurse, but he couldn't resist her. Their timing was never right, but now can he trust that she’s home to stay?

BEST MAN NEXT DOOR by Stefanie London.  For Sage Nilsen, coming back to her small Massachusetts hometown for a family wedding feels like high school all over again. Except Jamie Hackett has gone from charming boy next door to handsome best man. And sparks are suddenly flying between the popular guy and the so-called outcast. As the wedding gets closer, Sage finds herself on the edge of something unexpected—a second chance in the town she left behind…with the guy she’s never forgotten.

Buy Links: 

BookShop.org

Harlequin 

Barnes & Noble

Amazon

Books-A-Million

Powell’s

AUTHOR BIOS

SUSAN MALLERY:  Susan Mallery is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of novels about the relationships that define women's lives—family, friendship, romance. Library Journal says, “Mallery is the master of blending emotionally believable characters in realistic situations," and readers seem to agree—40 million copies of her books have sold worldwide. Her warm, humorous stories make the world a happier place to live. Susan grew up in California and now lives in Seattle with her husband. She's passionate about animal welfare, especially that of the ragdoll cat and adorable poodle who think of her as mom. Visit Susan online at www.susanmallery.com.

SYNITHIA WILLIAMS:  Synithia Williams has loved romance novels since reading her first one at the age of 13. It was only natural that she would one day write her own romance. When she isn’t writing, Synithia works on water quality issues in the Midlands of South Carolina while taking care of her supportive husband and two sons. You can learn more about Synithia by visiting her website, www.synithiawilliams.com.

STEFANIE LONDON:  Stefanie London is a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary romances and romantic comedies. Her books have been called “genuinely entertaining and memorable” by Booklist and have won multiple industry awards, including the HOLT Medallion and OKRWA National Readers’ Choice Award. Originally from Australia, Stefanie lives in Toronto with her very own hero and is doing her best to travel the world. She frequently indulges in her passions for good coffee, lipstick, romance novels and anything zombie related.  Visit Stefanie online at Stefanie-London.com.

Social Links:

Susan Mallery Website

Synithia Williams Website

Stefanie London Website

EXCERPT

Suddenly This Summer

Best Man Next Door by Stefanie London

CHAPTER ONE

Before today, Jamie Hackett had thought he’d already faced death.

Like the time he dove off a cliff on a dare, plunging into the ocean with the speed of a bullet. Or 

the time he’d come face-to-face with a territorial goose who’d gone apeshit at him for getting too 

close to her goslings. Or when his car skidded across a patch of black ice in the middle of winter 

and he’d narrowly missed crash- ing into a big oak tree.

He’d been cool as a cucumber, every single time.

But it turned out he hadn’t really faced death. Now that he’d confronted it for real, he understood 

what it felt like.

Jamie glanced around the sterile white hospital hall- way, feeling weirdly disconnected from it 

all. If some- one had told him he was floating in the air, watching everything happen from above, 

he would have believed it. Giving himself a shake, he reached one hand to his opposite arm and 

pinched himself. Hard. He winced from the pain.

Still alive.

But the quicker he was out of here the better.

His mom stood at the administration desk, her shoulders hunched. Exhaustion seeped into her posture and made her look even smaller than usual. When she turned to face him, he noticed her blouse was buttoned wrong and her curly ginger hair was sticking out in all directions like it always did when she didn’t have time to style it.

“Ready to go, hon?” She tried to smile, but her eyes were watery and the dark shadows circling underneath made her look hollowed out.

You did that to her.

He nodded.

“Your dad has gone to get the car so he can meet us out front.” She slipped her arm into his and held him close, her fingernails biting into his skin, as if she was worried he’d float away like a discarded balloon if she didn’t hold on tight enough. “No need to rush—we’ll walk slow.”

“You didn’t have to wait around. I could have gotten a cab,” he said quietly. He kept his gaze averted from the goings-on around him, not wanting to see the people being wheeled about and the elderly folk shuffling along, walking their fluid bags like strange, lifeless pets.

It freaked him out.

He was thirty-two for crying out loud. Thirty-two with his whole life ahead of him. With decades ahead of him.

“Jamie Hackett, if you think I would let my child come home from hospital in a cab then I don’t even know…” Her voice broke as she shook her head, still clutching him tightly. He could hear the tears she was holding back, companions of the ones she’d been shedding ever since she’d arrived at the hospital yesterday. “Of course we were going to take you home.”

There was no point arguing. Patty Hackett was an overprotective mama bear at the best of times, let alone when one of her own was hurt. Although really, aside from a few stitches in the back of his head and some chest pain that felt like a couple of boulders had been propped there, Jamie was walking away from this situation a lot better than he could have.

A lot better than what would have been if his best friend hadn’t saved him.

When they made it outside, Jamie sucked in as much air as his lungs would allow, and even though doing so burned, he had to clear the hospital smells from his nostrils. It was warm and sunny out, with a clear blue sky and not a cloud to be seen. The perfect early summer day.

Perfect like it had been the previous evening when he’d decided to get a good sweaty workout in. Perfect like when he’d jogged across the gym floor, warm sunshine streaming in through the windows and the high-quality shock-absorbent flooring cushioning his feet. Perfect like when his fists had sailed at the heavy punching bag, the repetitive pounding motion better than any form of therapy he’d found to date.

Perfect…until he’d almost died.

Jamie shook the dark thoughts from his head as his father pulled the family SUV up in front of the hospital’s pick-up area. His mom rushed forward to open the passenger side door for him.

“I can open the door myself, okay?” he said. He hated seeing her worry like this. Hated knowing that he caused it. “You don’t need to wait on me.”

“Just get in the car, James,” she sighed and shot him a look that told him there was no point arguing. It was easier to do what he was told. And if she was calling him by his full name, it meant she was a hair away from clipping his ear.

So he climbed into the car without another word.

“Son.” His father looked over to him with a crinkled brow. “Let your mother fuss. She needs it.”

Jamie nodded. “You’re right.”

His father turned to face the road as the back door opened and Patty climbed in, scrambling to hoist her small frame up into the giant SUV like she always did. The ride home was filled with rapid-fire questions from the back seat.

Why didn’t you tell us you were stressed out?

Should you be talking to a professional about your problems?

Is it happening again?

The last one made a weird acidic taste burn in the back of his throat. No matter how many years he put between himself and The Great Breakdown of his early twenties, he was frequently reminded that nobody would ever forget it happened.

Because when you were a world-class athlete, your failures didn’t only become gossip—they became lore.

“The doctor said you need to keep your stress levels down and take a break from work,” his mother relayed. “This could happen again. She said that panic attacks can be triggered by working too much and not getting enough rest, and—”

“I know, Mom. I was there.”

“We care about you, Jamie.” His father’s voice was gruff. “This isn’t about blame or trying to make you feel bad. You know that, right?”

Despite everything that had happened in the past, his parents had never once made him feel like he was to blame for what had happened…even if he himself had felt like a giant failure.

“Yeah,” he said. “I know.”

“And the doctor said we need to keep an eye on you for the next twenty-four hours to make sure there are no complications,” Patty continued. The car rolled smoothly along the highway, other vehicles passing them at a rapid pace thanks to his dad’s careful—read: slow—driving. “I got your sister to set up the spare bedroom at our place. And don’t bother protesting about going home by yourself because I won’t have it.”

Jamie glanced at his father, who simply shrugged as if to say, she’s the boss. Too right. Nobody was under any illusions about who was head of their household, that was for damn sure.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mom. But what about—”

“Flash is staying at Clay’s house,” she said without letting him finish. “He said we could leave him there until you were ready to go home.”

Whenever Jamie wasn’t feeling himself, the first thing he wanted to do was to hang out with his dog. They really were man’s best friend. No doubt Jamie’s business partner, Clay Harris, would spoil him rotten with treats and belly scratches, so it wasn’t like he’d be sad having a sleepover.

Jamie watched the scenery roll along outside the window. Soon they were approaching Reflection Bay, the town where he’d spent most of his life—a town that wasn’t even big enough for its own hospital.

He’d driven along this road so many times he’d lost count, watching the silvery blue of the ocean flicker between patches of green and rugged cliff faces, the tourist-favorite red-and-white lighthouse rising up in the distance. It was the same as it had always been and yet…it felt different now.

Everything felt different.

Forty-eight hours after returning home from the hospital, Jamie was “discharged” from the Hackett Family Hospital. But not without needing to pass a rigorous interrogation from his mother. If someone had overheard the conversation, they might mistake Patty Hackett for an actual doctor rather than the elementary school art teacher she was.

But now that Jamie could taste the sweet air of freedom, he was happier than ever to be alive. Especially since he had been reunited with his canine best friend.

“Isn’t it glorious? The sun is shining. The birds are singing.” Jamie glanced down at his dog, Flash, who ambled with the kind of gait that could only be described as “walking under duress.” “Oh, come on, bud. It’s not that bad.”

The chunky fawn-and-white bulldog looked up at him with imploring eyes as if to say, please make it stop. Flash, named in the most ironic fashion, hated working out as much as Jamie loved it. In fact, it was somewhat of a local joke that the two fittest guys in town had adopted the laziest dog ever as the mascot for their gym.

But Jamie loved Flash with everything he had. The dog might not be able to move faster than a drunk snail, but he had a heart of gold. Flash was always happy to see Jamie, never judged him for working too long or for stressing out too much about his business, and loved nothing more than just hanging out. No expectations, no bullshit.

That was love.

The pair ambled along the street. His business, Reflection Fitness, sat right at the end of the main strip, on a corner. It never failed to make pride surge through Jamie’s veins to see what he and Clay had built together. Their goal had been to create a gym that catered to all the people in their small town, leaving no one to feel like they didn’t belong. Reflection Fitness had clients who were training for big goals like marathons and fitness competitions, as well as clients like Jamie’s grandpa—who was combating osteoarthritis with regular, low-intensity workouts—and Jamie’s favorite personal training client—a bubbly woman in her forties who’d decided to try weight lifting after years of thinking cardio was the only option for women. They had a trainer on staff who specialized in pre- and post-natal fitness and another who ran classes for seniors aimed at improving joint mobility. They had built the gym to be accessible for clients with mobility needs. It was important to both Jamie and Clay that everyone who came to the gym felt welcomed and catered to.

“Let’s get you inside where there’s some air-conditioning, huh?” Jamie looked down at Flash, who was taking each plodding step with great effort. To be fair to the dog, it was unseasonably hot for so early in the summer. “We’re almost there.”

Jamie turned the corner to access the gym from the back door, which led directly into the office he and Clay shared. He tried not to take Flash through the front if he could help it, in case anyone working out had asthma or allergies. But when Jamie got to the door and tried to turn the handle, he found it locked.

“Weird,” he muttered.

The back was usually open if Clay was working, which he should be, given the hour. But perhaps he’d stepped out.

Jamie tried unlocking it. Only…the key wouldn’t fit.

“What the heck?” He tried again. No dice.

He stared at the key, wondering if the knock he’d taken to the back of his head had done more damage than he’d realized. But no, it was definitely the right key.

Befuddled, Jamie walked Flash around to the front of the gym, where a sleek set of glass doors opened to a small reception area. The space was light and welcoming, with a big potted plant and a white couch in one corner. An old black-and-white photo hung on the wall, showing Clay and Jamie in their high school days, arms around each other—a tennis racket in Jamie’s hand and a basketball in Clay’s.

“Jamie!” The receptionist, Sara, brightened when she saw him. She wore a blue Reflection Fitness uniform polo shirt and her long, dark brown hair hung over her shoulder in twin braids. “How are you feeling?”

“Never better,” he replied breezily. “And thank you for sending those flowers to Mom’s place. That wasn’t necessary.”

“Everyone was thinking about you.” Her brow wrinkled. “We were all so worried when Clay told us what happened!”

Ugh, Clay. The guy had a big mouth.

“I told him to keep it quiet,” Jamie muttered. “In any case, I appreciate the gesture. Mom commandeered the flowers right away for her living room.”

Sara laughed. “That’s why I picked tulips. I had a feeling she would end up with them.”

Mama Hackett was a favorite among the staff since she often made oatmeal cookies, energy balls and other healthy treats for everyone who worked at Reflection Fitness.

“Is Clay in?” Jamie asked. “I tried the back door, but I think something’s wrong with my key.”

“Uh…” Sara’s expression turned strange, and she reached for the phone on the desk. “Let me call him through.”

“It’s okay, I’ll head in.” Jamie had his swipe pass on hand, like always, and he tapped it against the electronic reader which activated the gate into the gym.

The screen flashed red and made an angry beep sound.

First his key didn’t fit the lock and now his pass wasn’t working. What the—

“Jamie.”

He looked up and saw Clay striding through the gym toward the foyer, a no-nonsense look on his face. At six foot five with shoulders that could bridge two cities, Clay had the perfect build for the sport he’d loved as a child—basketball. He had dark brown skin, warm eyes and close-cropped curly black hair. Usually, Clay would be flashing his signature charming smile—a smile that had won over just about every cheerleader the guy had ever encountered in his high school and college days. A smile that, now, was conspicuously absent.

“You locked me out.” Jamie shook his head in disbelief. “You changed the locks on the office without telling me?”

“Outside, now.” Clay pointed to the front doors as he strode through the gate. “We’re not doing this in front of the clients.”

Sara dropped her head and pretended to bury herself in work, ignoring Jamie’s gaze pleading for support.

He let out an irritated huff. “Fine.”

The two men walked back outside and Jamie felt a pang of guilt as Flash made a noise of protest about returning to the hot summer day. The trio rounded the corner away from the front of the gym so they could have it out.

“This is for your own good, Jamie.” Clay held up his hands, signaling he didn’t want a fight. Despite being strong enough to beat most men in anything physical, Clay was a gentle giant with a big heart.

He was also, however, stubborn as an ox.

“We’re partners, Clay. You can’t lock me out of my own damn business.” Jamie gestured with his free hand toward the building next to them. “That’s…that’s got to be illegal.”

Clay folded his arms across his chest. “I had a feeling you wouldn’t take this seriously. The doctor said you need to rest and your mom told me to keep an eye on you, because she’s worried, too.”

Typical Patty. Jamie made a sound of disbelief. “I rested.”

“For two days.” Clay shook his head. “That’s not enough.”

“Man, it was nothing. You’re overreacting.”

“I am not overreacting. Do you have any idea what it’s like to walk up on your best friend lying unconscious on the floor? I thought you’d had a heart attack or something. I thought you were dead.”

He felt terrible for putting Clay through that, but he was already feeling vulnerable about this whole thing. He couldn’t let his friend see how much it had shaken him.

“So dramatic.” Jamie rolled his eyes.

“See, this—” Clay circled a finger at his face just like his mom used to when they were naughty kids “—is why I know you’re not listening to what the doctor said. You came right here to go back to doin’ exactly what you were doin’ before.”

“Building our business?” he replied, biting back his frustration.

“Running yourself into the ground. Wake up, Jamie.” Clay shook his head. “You might not be so lucky next time.”

“It’s my call to determine whether I’m ready to come back, not yours.”

“It sure is, because I won’t give you a new key until I’m sure you’re actually taking this thing seriously.”

Jamie’s mouth popped open. “You can’t do that!”

“Sure I can. It’s my name on the lease, remember?”

Oh yeah. That. He’d been meaning to get that bit of paperwork updated for almost three years now, but it was one of those things that kept falling off his to-do list in favor of more impactful items. Besides, he’d always thought Clay would never do him dirty, so it didn’t seem like a big deal.

“It’s our business, no matter what the lease says.”

“Jamie, I’m doing this because you’re my best friend. I want you to take care of yourself.” Clay looked genuinely concerned. “Coach always used to say a heart that pumps too fast is no better than one that doesn’t pump at all. Rest is as important as work.”

Jamie let out a groan. “Sitting at a desk isn’t exactly strenuous. I just need to answer some emails—”

“And then you’ll just need to look at some spreadsheets and make some calls and then some new client will come to you with a sob story and you’ll squeeze them in even though you said you weren’t going to take on any more PT clients yourself.” Clay shook his head. “I know your tricks, man. Don’t try to play me.”

“But what about the clients I have—”

“I split them up between the other trainers. It’s already done.”

“You called everyone already?” Jamie scrubbed a hand over his face. “I told you I didn’t want anyone to know.”

“I said you were helping me plan stuff for the wedding. Best man shit.” Clay grinned and Jamie found his anger withering away. It really was hard to hate the guy when he smiled. “You’re loyal like that.”

He let out a strangled noise of frustration. “I’ll call the locksmith myself.”

“Then he’s gonna have to get through me.”

Jamie considered his options. Anyone who didn’t know Clay might be too intimidated to try changing the locks against his wishes and anyone who did know him would be too charmed to want to try. Fact was, his best friend had him over a barrel.

“What am I supposed to do with myself, huh?” Jamie hated the panic in his voice. Who on earth felt panicked at the prospect of time off?

“I don’t know. Play ping-pong with your dad, go up to the Cape, sleep in. You’re a big boy—you’ll figure it out.”

Clay’s hand came down hard on Jamie’s shoulder, earning him a soft grunt. There was no reasoning with the guy, that much was clear.

Maybe Clay and his mom were right and this was serious. Jamie could have died. When he’d woken up in the ambulance, everything had flashed before his eyes—his whole life. His family. Work. His failed professional tennis career. His business. Long hours at his computer after longer days on the gym floor. Chasing the next thing, expanding the business, more clients, more money. Never satisfied. Always restless.

Was that all his life was about?

He’d always been hyper competitive, driven, and ambitious. But what if he had died the other day? What would he have left behind?

Jamie realized then that Clay was looking at him, as if waiting for him to speak. “No sweat. You want me to chill for a bit, fine. I can do that. You’ll see this isn’t a big deal.”

But even as he brushed off the severity of the incident, he knew the earth had shifted beneath his feet. What he’d thought was solid ground was now loose earth and uneven terrain. He needed to find his footing again. He needed to get himself straight. Most of all, he needed to prove to everyone that this was just a one-off. That he could handle pressure—unlike when he was younger.

Because he couldn’t ever go back to being Jamie Can’t-Hackett ever again.

Excerpted from Suddenly This Summer by Susan Mallery, Synithia Williams, Stefanie London. The Best Man Next Door by Stefanie London Copyright © 2023 by Stefanie Little. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

#netgalley #harlequin #Susan Mallery #Synithia Williams #Stefanie London #small town romance anthology #Novellas #romance #fiction

[foxounderscorecube]

Shatter Me - Tahereh Mafi

3¼ ⭐

CW: SA and stuff that could maybe be triggering if you have an ED

I feel kind of unsure how to rate this. Essentially, the story itself didn't do much for me, but I found it really compelling - I wanted to keep reading it and I was a bit disappointed to come to the end.

I love the writing style. I think it does very well at bringing the reader into the chaos and intensity of Juliette's mind as a traumatised, terrified teenager, and the writing becomes more or less frantic with her emotions. Oddly, there is a note at the start of the book explaining this narrative technique, which I can't blame the writer for because it's just as, if not more, likely to have been the publisher's idea. Bit of a shame, though - like explaining the punchline to a joke. Nonetheless, I think that's what drew me in to the narrative: the way that Juliette's feelings are expressed is lovely and makes her feel more human.

The romance with Adam was okay. I think it's a bit weird that he found out he could touch her unharmed because he was caressing her in her sleep when she was having nightmares, but his feelings for her come off as sincere. I think she genuinely loves him but sometimes I couldn't help but think that surely, affection from nearly anyone will feel amazing and that could make her think she's in love even if she isn't. I mean, you only have to look at her weirdly conflicting emotions towards War Criminal Warner to see that.

Ah, yes, War Criminal Warner. He's a pervert and a pathetic nepotism baby and likes to kill people for fun. He turns up to be emotionally abusive and sexually inappropriate towards Juliette, intending on grooming her into his weapon/consort. She inexplicably still thinks he's hot. Sometimes, it feels like this book is resisting the urge to become Baby's First Dark Romance and go down his route. Towards the end, when she and Adam have escaped and later get caught, Warner has found out he can also touch her without being hurt, and so starts being even more handsy than usual. She spots a gun in his inside coat pocket and decides to go with it despite her discomfort just long enough to get the gun and shoot him, which is a bit of a girlboss move. So he's making out with her and picking her up by the arse and all this and she starts off being "ew yucky nasty Warner, this isn't my One and Only True Love Adam" and then thinks "…actually, I'm kinda into this". What??? I know that sort of thing is a trope in dark romance as a genre, but that is one of the reasons I do not read dark romance. The whole "this is sexual assault but actually I like it" thing is just gross to me. If you're into it as a fantasy and within the constrains of fiction, I can't stop you, but it's not my cup of tea at all. Although I see how Adam can be viewed as a bit bland (he is), Warner is, like, bland with a bit of black pepper. I have a soft spot for pathetic men and for crazy sadistic characters, albeit typically not in romance, but he's just not very sexy about it. He's just a bit sad, to me. I don't care if his eyes are light green or whatever.

Juliette is incredibly horny in general. It's kind of funny sometimes. She'll experience the most traumatising shit you can think of and then Adam will touch her arms and she'll be like "oh YEAH babey". To be fair, though, she is the most touch-starved person of all time, so maybe that's not that weird.

This isn't a criticism, but a thing I noticed that I found strange. So, Juliette has been given maybe one small meal a day for the best part of a year, and presumably must be terribly underweight and look like she's on death's door. Even after eating normally for a couple of weeks, she's probably not looking exactly healthy. That's whatever in itself, that's just the nature of being imprisoned in an inhumane asylum. But there're consistent reminders of how tiny and little and small Juliette is that… well, it kind of gave me the ick. Look, I've got a height complex three times my size, so I'm not a fan of big height differences personally. I don't want to feel even shorter than I am. But with the context meaning she's probably very very skinny and frail as well, it made me a bit uncomfy. I don't know if this is just a straight woman thing that I don't get, a romance trope that I wouldn't have come across, or if the writer has a mild macro/micro kink that's coming through or what, which is why, even if I didn't like it, I don't mean it as critique. It just stood out to me.

The ending left more questions than answers because it's part of a series. That's fair. Still, I like that she found a community with other people with powers similar to hers. I think that's cool. I don't know if I'll read the other books, though. I'm kind of happy imagining that she lived safe and happily with Adam and it's all okay now, but then it was a fun book to read even if my review probably comes across as miserable so hey, we'll see!

#read 2023 #reviewed 2023 #books #book review #fiction #ya fiction #romance #dystopian fiction