#hard and fast shines the grin that we flash; but there's a vulnerable stripe or two on me | musings | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hilplusterrorss · 2 years

Note

zukka + either 12 or 16?

16 - Cheshire Kitten by S J Tucker (#12 was Achilles Come Down so ah. We’re not doing that LMAO I’m not up to the task of delicately handling such topics wrt Sokka or Zuko)

But heavy is the crown that’s always hidden / tender is the heart you’ll never see / hard and fast shines the grin that we flash / but there’s a vulnerable stripe or two on me

————

Sokka’s composure slips almost the instant he leaves the council room. His hands tremble with anger, and his jaw works tight to keep his face serious. To keep it from crumpling.

They have no right, none of them, to talk to him the way they just did. He’s a council member, same as them, and the ambassador from the water tribe! They’re not higher up than him, but they sneer and talk down to him like he’s nobody.

Well.

It’s not like they’re completely wrong.

Sokka may be connected to them, but he’s not exactly one of the great heroes that ended the war. He’s not Zuko, who beat the legendary Azula for his place on the fire nation throne. He’s not his sister, the greatest waterbender to ever live, who was there for that battle. He’s not Toph, the greatest earthbender and inventor of bending metal, that’s for sure. And he’s obviously not worthy of the honor Aang receives.

All of them did incredible things throughout the war. They’re the ones that brought peace. Sokka was just kind of along for the ride. Katara’s in training to be chief of the Southern Water Tribe. He sits around the fire nation palace and offers ideas for reconstruction that no one but Zuko listens to. It’s near impossible to get anything passed, with all of the old guard holding on to their colonialist traditions. They don’t respect him, and why should they? So he’s smart. They don’t care about smart. He’s funny; none of the council members have senses of humor. He has good ideas, but they don’t listen to him because of where he’s from, because of the color of his skin and eyes. Because he still wears his water tribe clothing (albeit altered so he doesn’t suffocate in the fire nation’s heat) and wears his wolf’s tail with pride. They don’t respect him.

He was really excited about this idea too. The council was discussing changing the curriculum in schools, and Sokka had offered to gather some interviews from people affected negatively by the war, from all nations.

Of course they spat on him, he should have expected it, really. But something about it really stung this time. As usual, he played it off with a smart remark that would get him in trouble speaking to a superior and kept the facade of unaffected calm until the council was dismissed, but now he can replay what the old guy said over and over in his head.

“You’ll never belong in our history books, boy, and you’ll never belong here. You aren’t worthy to speak to our children, much less teach them.”

Obviously, Zuko had shut the man down, but the words still cut. As soon as he could, Sokka was the first to leave the room and marched straight for the room he and Zuko favor for sparring. He needs to hit something, before he lets the cruel words make him want to hit himself.

He grinned insufferably at the nasty old man on his way past him, but he isn’t sure it was believable. They’re all a bit old for the childish game of pretending to be unaffected.

Sokka flings his overlayer to the side as he enters the training room, not looking to see where it lands or bothering to hang it up like he should, and marches to the far side of the punching bag in the corner. He gives it a couple of test taps. It feels good.

“You aren’t worthy.”

Sokka throws four punches in quick succession, inhales, exhales, throws four more. He punches and he punches until it hurts to and he realizes he forgot to wrap his hands again. He‘s always doing that when he does this. Small bloodstains on the bag are evidence of that. He doesn’t care. The pain takes his mind off of the feelings of inadequacy and smallness.

“Sokka?” a voice calls from the hall. “You in here?”

Around the bag, Sokka can see Zuko stick his head into the room. He sees the robe lying unceremoniously on the floor, then looks over at Sokka, smiling apologetically.

“There you are,” he says. “I expected as much.“

He comes over to Sokka and his bag and holds it away from him. “Let me see your hands,” he demands.

Sokka grumbles, but holds his hands out, knowing that arguing is useless.

Zuko tuts and ghosts his thumb over Sokka’s knuckles, which aren’t bleeding yet, but are almost there. “You’ve gotta stop doing this to yourself,” he murmurs, and guides Sokka over to the bench on the other side of the room and starts to bandage his hands with the set he keeps in here for these occasions.

Sokka snorts. “There’s no need, I’m not even bleeding,” he says, trying to push Zuko away uselessly. Zuko just grips his hands more firmly and wraps the bandage tight, until Sokka has trouble bending his fingers down there.

He sighs, and Zuko pauses, squeezing his hands and softly saying his name. Sokka looks up to appease him, then wishes he didn’t.

Zuko is looking at him with sad, guilty eyes. “I’m sorry,” he says, still quiet. “I’m sorry they talk to you like that. I do what I can not to allow it, but I haven’t found replacements for the councilmen that hold to the old ways yet, and until I do, I can’t dismiss them. I’m-” He inhales sharply and finishes tying off the bandages. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to have to deal with this from them, or anyone.”

Sokka nods, already mentally dismissing the words. Kind as they are, he’s heard them before, and they help sometimes, but don’t fix the anger and hurt that tremble in his chest. But this time, Zuko continues.

“I’ve had enough of it, though. It’s time I do something about them.“ Sokka looks back up at him and is surprised to find anger in his face, along with the sadness and guilt. “I’m getting rid of them. Until I find a new council, we’ll simply stagnate for a while. Take a break from politics and big decisions.”

Sokka can’t believe his ears. “What?”

“I’m not dealing with their reductive and harmful objections to progress anymore.” Zuko is calm, but he has that determined note to his voice that means there won’t be any convincing him otherwise, and attempting to do so would be dangerous. “Not after their behavior today. And last week, and the week before that. They’ve had countless chances to improve, and they’ve ignored them all. They’re gone. After today, you won’t see them again. At all.”

Sokka is reeling, unable to wrap his head around Zuko’s announcement, but Zuko plunges on.

“In fact, I think we should take a holiday in between. Just you and me. We could go visit Uncle in Ba Sing Se, or the Southern Water Tribe. Yeah, we should go see Aang and Katara and your father. It’s been too long since you’ve seen them.”

Sokka stares at the Fire Lord for a solid minute, what he said slowly sinking in. Sinking in. Sinking in.

He’s getting rid of them . . . for me, he realizes.

And seeing his dad and Katara . . . Sokka always forgets how much he misses them until the prospect of a visit comes up. That sounds incredible. Wonderful.

He says as much, and Zuko beams, beautifully, splendidly, radiantly, like the sun itself has entered the room. “Good,” Zuko says, and pulls Sokka into an embrace as warm as his smile.

Sokka squeezes him tight, trying to convey his affection and gratitude through the hug, because he thinks that if he tries to speak, he might cry.

“And Sokka?”

Ah. He braces himself for the punch.

“Don’t worry about being perfect and happy all the time, okay? You don’t have to be happy every minute of every day, you know. You can go a little crazy sometimes. Even—no, especially—to those old farts that think you’re stupid. Okay?”

Tui and La, Sokka thinks, every day he finds a new way to make me fall in love with him.

He smiles, eyes wet, and squeezes tighter. “Okay.”

————

The lyrics (bc the whole song is cool and a bit lesser known I think):

I grew up seeing things a little differently / appearing, disappearing, / hardly innocent nor tied down to the ground // I learned to roll and tumble with the punches, / glory in my stripes and spots, / walked by, invisible, and never make a sound // but heavy is the crown that’s always hidden / tender is the heart you’ll never see / hard and fast shines the grin that we flash / but there’s a vulnerable stripe or two on me // maybe any place outside of Wonderland / is not for me, my friend // so if I leave my grin behind, remind me / that we’re all mad here / and it’s okay // sun up, sun down, the shadows guide me down / in Wonderland, Wonderland, nobody knows the way / but if you find it in your dreams / you can find it at your day job / somewhere south of hell // take the path to left or right / with just your gut to guide you / the story is not for / anyone else to tell // go down the rabbit hole and out the other side / can’t go home in the middle of the magic carpet ride / gotta greet the sun before his lovely daughter moon / can’t forsake the journey for the safety of your room // until you learn / your lesson well // I have learned to see and hear / everybody loud and clear / but the truth comes out in riddles that are safe enough to share // that’s how it is in songs, you see / and stripes always looked good on me / whether or not I’m really there (smile hangs in the air) // and heavy is the burden of the wise ones / when no one understands a word they say / the Jabberwock never bothered anyone / but nobody believes him to this day / and why should they? // but if I leave my grin behind, remind me / that we’re all mad here / and it’s okay // sun up, sun down, the shadows find me out / in Wonderland, Wonderland, nobody knows the way / but if you find it in your dreams / you can find it at your day job / somewhere south of hell // take the path to left or right / with just your gut to guide you / the story is not for / anyone else to tell // go down the rabbit hole and out the other side / can’t go home in the middle of the magic carpet ride / gotta greet the sun before his lovely daughter moon / can’t forsake the journey for the safety of your room // until you learn / your lesson well // (learn your lesson well) / (learn your lesson)// is it the stripes or the spots you see? / was it hearts or diamonds, baby, brought you here to me? / darling, you know better than to trust a pack of cards / what have we learned? The world is / never as mad as it could be / never as mad as it could be // (scatting) // and if I leave my grin behind, remind me / that we’re all mad here / and it’s okay // and if I leave my grin behind, remind me / that we’re all mad here / and it’s okay // and if I leave my grin behind, remind me / that we’re all mad here / and it’s okay // and if I leave my grin behind, remind me / that we’re all mad here / and it’s okay

#phew that took a bit but it was fun! thanks grace <3 #feel free to send more of these! icym its songs from my 2021 top 100 + a ship of asker’s choice #hil writes #atla #zukka #fic #zukkaoru #asks lol #anyway gn it’s 11:30 and i need Sleep #my fics

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destiniesfic · 3 years

Photo

132 Hours, Chapter 13

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Absolutely not.”

Note: This chapter, like the last one, contains explicit content. Proceed with caution!

Read chapter 13 on AO3, or read below:

I wake up to Cardan nosing the back of my neck, murmuring my name.

My head is fuzzy. I blink my eyes open and, before I am totally aware of what I’m doing, I turn over onto my back so I can look at him. The echo ripples through me from years ago: on your back, like a good little omega. I swat it away. Not now. Plenty of time for shame later.

The light from outside is still so low that I can barely see Cardan’s face, but I know he’s close from the way his breath tickles my ear. And that’s not all I can feel. He’s hard against my thigh. I try to run through the sequence of events that probably happened while I was dozing. Round one had ended; round two is just starting. I wonder how long it had taken for his first erection to subside, or for him to get hard again. I guess I have another shot at finding out.

The insistent pang in my low belly, my constant companion these last two and a half days, throbs with urgency. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, my skin prickling. We’re not out of it yet. It’s not done.

Cardan brushes my hair back from my face. “Jude?”

A question this time. Something flutters in my chest. Those words still lurk in my subconscious. Maybe I should feel ashamed now. Maybe this is all I’m good for.

But against all that, I say, “Okay.”

“Okay?”

I nod. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Cardan pauses. “One second.”

“What—” One of his hands brushes my thigh, and I give a full-body shudder. He starts tugging my shorts the rest of the way down my legs. We were in such a hurry that they hadn’t really come off. I prop myself up on my elbows and look down at him. “What do you mean one second?”

“Don’t you trust me?”

“Absolutely not.”

He flashes me a grin. His teeth are so white. Without quite realizing what I’m doing, I touch the place where he bit me, wondering if I can still feel their indentations. “Trust me for the next few minutes.”

“Why—” I begin, but then he gently pushes my hand aside and presses his lips to my neck. I feel weirdly heady, but cover it up by rolling my eyes. “Fine. But you’re on thin ice.”

“Yes, Alpha,” he says dryly, and my heart gives a thud so hard I feel it in my teeth.

I am so distracted I don’t realize his hand is stealing between my legs again. This time, instead of going straight to fingering me, he just touches me, almost leisurely. It takes him no time to find my clit, which is deeply unfair. I groan as he circles his fingers, taking his goddamn time. Not fair. I wonder if he can unhook a bra on the first try, too. His mouth is on my neck, and now my shoulder, and now my collarbone. I am heating up so fast, I think I am going to spontaneously combust before we can even have sex again.

“You know,” he says, sounding infuriatingly self-satisfied as he moves himself a little lower down, “this is way better.”

The sound that comes out of my mouth is somewhere between a whimper and a moan. I don’t know what to call it and am deeply embarrassed that I made it.

At first I think he might go down on me and feel something between anticipation and panic—panic because it’s basically been a swamp down there for days and I really wouldn’t want anyone putting their mouth on me, and also because, as dumb as it might sound, I haven’t gotten to shave. But he stops with his head about level with my chest, and cups my breast in his free hand, which makes me draw a breath in anticipation, but is nothing compared to the sensation that zings through me when he puts his mouth to my nipple.

“Oh,” I whine, and slide my hand around the back of his head to root in his thick, dark curls. “Oh, god.”

And of course it’s when he has me off-balance that he slides his fingers inside of me, two of them, slowly at first. I feel them curl and look up at the ceiling, clutching his hair for dear life, and think, Huh, he does know what he’s doing. He makes a sound but doesn’t falter, not with his mouth or with his fingers, his thumb now circling my clit, the pressure in my body building—

It’s too much. It’s too much.

“Stop,” I cry. “Cardan, stop, stop.”

Right away, he stops. His hand withdraws and he picks up his head, his dark eyes wide. “What? What’s wrong?”

What is wrong? I blink and my eyelashes feel wet. “I don’t,” I begin. Oh, I’m panting. “I’m going to—”

He gives me a sideways look, confused. “Yeah, that’s the point.”

I am equally confused and, more than that, overstimulated. Short-circuiting. Why isn’t he being selfish? Alphas are selfish. “But you haven’t.”

“Oh, god.” Cardan leans forward and presses his forehead against my shoulder. “Don’t worry about me. You’ll make it up to me. Do you want to come?”

My feelings are scattershot, frayed wires sparking, but I nod, because I do. I really do.

“So let me take care of you,” he says. He pushes me back so I’m lying down, my head on the pillow, and goes back to work, paying attention to my other breast and rebuilding the rhythm he’d established with his fingers. It isn’t automatic, but eventually I let myself be overwhelmed. I let him overwhelm me. And when I clench around his fingers, when everything seems a little too much, I don’t fight it.

You know how in old movies when people are about to go to bed together they pan away to fireworks in the sky? It’s like that behind my eyelids, resonating through my whole body.

Cardan is there when I come back to myself, of course. He rests his chin on my sternum and smirks up at me. In that moment, seeing how pleased he is, I want to make him feel as vulnerable as I do. I want to take him apart. I want him.

I growl and drag him up by the shoulders, and that smirk becomes a gasp when I reach down to wrap my hand around his cock. I nearly gasp, too; his skin is hot under my fingers, and he’s so hard that it must hurt. Good, I think deliriously—I was in agony for days, after all. But my heart probably isn’t in it because I’m trying to wrap my legs around his waist and get him in me.

“Wait—here—” he says, through gritted teeth, and he lines our hips up a little better. My hand falls away so he can enter me unimpeded. It’s easier than the first time because I am warmed up, because of all of the fluid, but there is still that beautifully unbearable friction. This time, I moan openly before pressing my face to his shoulder to muffle it, and he responds in kind, quieter but clearly less self-conscious.

He seems a little more in control of himself this time, working up to a demanding pace with surety. My hands roam up and down the skin of his back, which I’m surprised to find is not smooth, like I thought it would be. Instead, my fingers run over ridges of scar tissue, raised lines striping his back, a few of them. I would ask, but it is very much not the time. I tuck the knowledge away for later and concentrate on matching the rhythm of his hips. Not that I have to work very hard. With him, it’s easy. Our bodies seem to just know what to do.

I feel his breath on my cheek and realize his face is right there. What would happen if I tried to kiss him? There’s a chance he’d turn away. Omegas are for mating, not kissing—that’s what locker room talk would have you believe, no matter what the Ghost thinks or how he says the world works outside of what I’ve seen of it. Omegas are disposable, and when they aren’t… well, my mom did run from Madoc. But Cardan likes me. He said he likes me.

Worst case, would it really be such a bad thing if I kissed him and he hated it? I definitely don’t mind making him uncomfortable. We’ve done more than kiss—we’re doing more right now—plus, kissing him is an easy way to confirm whether or not he does like me.

And if he does, I’ll know. And if I know, I can use it somehow. Because if the real power is in being wanted, then…

I tilt my head up and brush my lips against where I think his must be, and end up finding half-mouth, half-cheek. Cardan freezes, and I feel a little thrill of satisfaction at being—right? wrong?—before he turns his head and finds my mouth with his again.

It’s like I’ve stuck my finger into a wall socket after being told explicitly not to. That is, it’s electric, and also like I might die from it. For a second we’re both holding our breath, closed lips pressed together, then I open my mouth and Cardan groans, clutching my face in his hands and kissing me hard. Now we’re truly right up against each other, my mouth to his, my chest against his chest, as though we could match heartbeat if we just got a little closer. His thrusts slow, but not in a bad way; they become deeper, more deliberate, like he’s trying to draw this out.

It feels surreal. It feels the way sex looks in movies. There’s nothing embarrassing about it. I am always watching, always analyzing, always anticipating, but now I am thinking of nothing but his skin against mine.

The end of this round is much less dramatic than my first panicky orgasm in the middle. I just hold onto Cardan, my arms around his shoulders, my legs wrapped around his waist, and let go, just as he does, his face now in the unruly cloud of my hair, the rest of him taut and shaking. When it passes, I lie there under him, breathless and slightly stunned. He doesn’t seem much better off. His entire body goes slack against mine.

“Oh,” he says in my ear. “Oh.”

I turn my face toward his in the dark. “What is it?”

He picks up his head a little, enough that I feel his mouth brush my cheek in passing. His arm reaches across me to brace itself against the mattress, and then his face is above mine again, black eyes shining. “That’s what that’s supposed to feel like.”

“Haven’t you had sex before?” I am incredulous. “Haven’t you had sex before a lot?”

He huffs a laugh. “Yeah. But not like that.”

I try to puzzle out what he means. I mean, in rut, with knotting, sure, and this time had gone a little smoother than the last, so that could be all. I’m pretty sure he’s been with omegas before. And I know he’s had a least one serious relationship, although that was with Nicasia, an alpha. Not that Cardan and I have a relationship of any kind, so that’s not comparable at all.

We’re stuck face to face this time, but at least he’s given me a model of what to do. To make it a little comfortable, I roll us onto our sides again, and he lets me. Then he kisses me again. We stay like that for a while, just kissing, riding out the residual tremors of climax.

I’m a little disappointed when he stops kissing me, but his wild grin more than makes up for it. He shakes his head. “I can’t believe you asked me to stop.”

“I was overwhelmed!” I exclaim, blushing fiercely. I am very glad it’s still dark. “Scrambled eggs, remember?”

“Huh?”

“My brain.”

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles. “For real. And you’ve really never…” He trails off, trying to figure out how to phrase his question. “Like, what’s the furthest you’ve gotten?”

I raise my eyebrows. “What do you think?”

Cardan shrugs. “I don’t know. Locke implied some things.”

“Ugh, Locke.” I pull a face. “Locke barely got a hand up my shirt.”

He raises his eyebrows back at me. “Did you slap him for it?”

I shake my head. I can’t bear to tell Cardan that Locke, to his minimal credit, scaled back his advances when I seemed skittish. “I punched Valerian, though, and he technically didn’t even get that far.”

Cardan frowns. “Whatever he did, it wouldn’t have counted,” he says, surprising me. “You know that, right?”

“I’m pretty sure it would have.”

“I mean, not in the way I’m talking about. In the way that matters.”

I don’t know what to make of this at all. I have always thought of sex as something tthat would someday be done to me and not with me; it never occurred to me to differentiate between what I do or don’t want. That it makes a difference. I draw a line up and down his bicep, and before I can stop myself, I am asking, “How many of your times haven’t counted?”

“Oof.” Cardan is quiet for a second, then says, “I’d like to think they all have, but… I have done some things, shall we say, under the influence that I probably shouldn’t have. Wouldn’t have, if I had been sober. So, there’s that.”

“Yeah,” I say. It’s about what I expected him to say. I don’t want to ask him the horrible question of whether this counts, right now. Because, despite the horrible circumstances, I think it counts for me. I feel oddly brittle when I think about how it might not for him. So I ask a different question. “What about the scars on your back?”

“Aha.” Cardan puts his head down on the pillow. He was waiting for me to ask, I realize. “I fought a bear.”

“It feels like you lost.”

“Hmm.” He leans forward to tuck himself against me. My head fits perfectly under his chin. “You should see the bear.”

“I’d like to. Does he have a name?”

There is a long pause, then Cardan says, so softly I almost don’t hear him, “Yes.”

I reach around me to run my finger over one of the lines. I vaguely recognize the pattern and what might have made it, but people aren’t supposed to get flogged anymore. Instead of my angry fire, I feel fathomless sadness. The list of suspects is small, and none are good news.

I ask slowly, “Do you want me to kill him for you?”

Cardan lets out a little disbelieving laugh. “No. Thank you, but no.”

“I mean it,” I say, and am sort of surprised that I do. I had made a similar promise to the Bomb while I was delirious. Now I am much more clear-headed, although possibly a little dickmatized.

“I know. It’s complicated.”

“What’s complicated about it?” I demand, picking up my head. “He hurts you. What else is there?”

He lifts his hand and runs it through my messy hair. “Let me put it another way,” he says, curling a lock around his finger. “If it turned out Madoc actually did plan your parents’ deaths like Vivi thinks, would you still love him?”

I open my mouth, and then I close it.

“See.” I can hear his rueful smile. “It’s complicated.”

I put my head back down. I want to call on my fire and say, Of course I wouldn’t love him. Of course I would swear to enact revenge on him for all my days. But even as I think it, I remember how he rested his hand on my shoulder when he came to retrieve us from the hospital that terrible night, how he taught me to protect myself, the pride in his eyes when he watched me graduate. And I know it is not that easy.

“I was born when my father was in his sixties,” Cardan says, resting his chin on top of my head again. “I was an alpha, at least, but I was premature, and small. Dain tried to convince my father that I was defective, that I shouldn’t inherit anything. I overheard him talking about it on the phone. He didn’t care if I knew. And that part didn’t work, of course, but some of that idea stuck with dear old dad, or maybe he was just too old to have a child underfoot. He didn’t really raise me. No one did, until I started acting out in school. Then they sent me to Balekin.”

“To make you behave?” I guess. “Or, no… to make you more alpha. To toughen you up.”

“Yeah.”

I can connect the dots from there. Cardan got bumped down to my year, and he got worse. Maybe not when teachers were looking, but worse all the same. His home being hell didn’t excuse that, but it did explain a lot. “From where I’m sitting it just made you a terror.”

“Well, you’re not wrong. And by certain philosophies, that is how to be an alpha.” He pauses, stroking my hair. “But I’m beginning to think there are other ways, too.”

---

I am on the cold floor of my own basement, the one in Madoc’s mansion, wrapped in the scratchy blanket that used to be one of the layers on the king bed in my parents’ house. I’m not naked anymore, but fully dressed in my school uniform: white, collared shirt; blue and green tartan skirt and the bicycle shorts I always wore under it; too-long socks.

Valerian is here. I know before I even see him and dread looking up. But I do, like my eyes are the camera lens in a movie, drawn unfailingly toward the source of motion and conflict. His nose is bloody, his eye blackened, and he is sneering.

I try to roll away from him, but I’m caught in the blankets, and I panic. He plants his foot on my hip. “No, you don’t,” he says. “You should have just let me do it then if you were going to let Cardan do it now.”

“Shut up!” The more I try to struggle away from him, the more tangled up I become. The thudding of my heart is so loud in my ears.

Valerian snorts derisively and wipes the blood away with his hand, smearing it over his face. “You’re a filthy animal,” he snarls. “That’s all you are. That’s all you’ll ever be.”

My eyes snap open.

I am back in our cell. Cardan is stretched out next to me on his stomach; we must have both been asleep when we came undone. He is completely naked, because I have stolen all of the blankets. Dawn is beginning to shine through our one tiny window. I am on my back, staring up at the ceiling, trying to make my heartbeat settle, the shapes resolve themselves.

“Jude?” Cardan asks, feeling for me blindly with an outstretched hand. “Whatsit?”

“Nothing.”

He opens one dark, sleepy eye. “That’s a lie. Bad dream?”

“No.” I roll onto my side to face him, pulling the blankets over my chest. “I’m really okay.”

Cardan’s hand settles on top of the blankets, pressing gently against them, which just makes my heart race again and undoes all my hard breathing work. “Your heart’s going crazy.”

“Are you a doctor now?”

“And you smell freaked out.”

My brow furrows. “You can’t smell when I’m freaked out.”

“I can. And when you’re angry. Your scent gets all… spiky. Spicy.”

“That’s racist,” I deadpan.

“No, it’s not,” he scoffs, but then he looks mildly concerned and sits up halfway, propping himself up on his side. “Wait, is it?”

I sigh. “Fine, you’re right. It was a nightmare.” I hold up my hand, tracing the outline of it against the ceiling. “But I’m fine. Dreams can’t hurt me. They’re just dreams.”

“Yeah,” says Cardan, but he sounds unconvinced.

“Aren’t you too horny for serious talk?” I ask. I can feel from the urgency of my pulse and the faint tingling in my fingers and toes that we’re not out of the woods yet. Admittedly, the nightmare did kind of dampen any urge I had to touch anyone ever again, but that’s not a problem he should be having.

“Um.” He glances down at himself. I also glance down. At that moment I am so glad I’m not a man; they can’t hide anything. His voice is strained when he says, “I mean, kind of horny, but obviously if you need to talk—”

I shove his shoulder to turn him onto his back, then crawl over to him. I’ve watched some porn, and also, you know, television, so even though I’ve never done this, I know how it’s done. I push myself up and swing my leg over him to straddle his hips. I have never gotten to be taller than Cardan before, but it’s not just the angle that changes him. He looks up at me like I am a beautiful stranger, someone he’s never seen before and might never see again, and then he tries to blink it away, but he’s too slow. I feel the breath woosh out of my chest.

“You’re trying to distract me with sex,” he accuses.

That was what I was trying to do—distract him and myself—but now I’m not so sure. Maybe I just want to have sex with him. Maybe I am choosing him just to choose him. Is that better or worse? I push my hair back over my shoulder, shaking it out. “Is it working?”

“Uh-huh, it’s—working great.” He runs a hand down my thigh. “But do you have it in you?”

“Yeah.” I nod, too, to drive the point home. The warm flush is starting to return to my body, but not as strong as before. My heat is finally, finally coming to an end. “One more time.”

“Okay.” He places his hands on my hips. “I should probably—”

Before he can tell me what he should probably do, I sink down onto him—and then gasp, because gravity is working with me this time so it happens way quicker than I thought it would. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s startling.

“Jude,” he groans. “I was going to say I should probably warm you up.”

“I’m plenty warm,” I say, moving my hips experimentally. As long as the heat lasts, I shouldn’t need too much stimulation to get going. I feel so full of him that it’s intoxicating.

I thought being on top would be more of an up-and-down motion, but it turns out grinding down on him or rocking back and forth feels just as good. I am surprised to find that I am not at all self-conscious, maybe because I have the best view of Cardan yet, and he is watching me like I’m a miracle, like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he takes his eyes off me for a second. I run my hands over his shoulders, scratch my nails a little against his chest, just to see him bite his lip. Not the fake lip-bite he’d do in front of a camera, either. One he can’t help.

“Jude,” he says again, moving up into me as I grind down on him. His hands stroke up and down my thighs. His eyelashes flutter. “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”

I pause. “What?”

“Oh.” Now he looks startled. “Uh, I meant you’re—”

“You’re pretty, too,” I say, before he can take it back. A smirk is curling the edge of my lips. He is pretty, underneath me, his hair spread out on the pillow like that, his face flushed. Even the tips of his ears are red, although that’s probably from embarrassment.

Cardan blinks at me, then recovers his dopey grin. “Damn right I am,” he says, and then he shifts, coming to sit up with me in his lap. He cards his fingers through my hair again. “But you’re something else.”

I look at him, at his perfect, stupid, handsome face now nearly level with mine, and my heart aches in my chest. Soon my heat is going to break. We’ll have no reason to do this ever again. And when we’re let out of our cell, one way or another, we won’t even have a good excuse to keep in touch.

All at once, I realize how much I don’t want that. I don’t want it to be over.

I reach out to touch his cheek, and he presses his hand against mine, holding it there. “Do you trust me?” I whisper.

He watches me with those fathomless, dark eyes, and says, “Yeah, I do.”

Maybe that’s the wrong answer. Maybe he shouldn’t. But I guess he’ll find that out for himself.

I lean forward and sink my teeth into his neck.

#jurdan #jurdan fanfic #judecardan #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the folk of the air #tfota #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #mine: fic #fic: 132 hours

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k00270205 · 2 years

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youtube

Research - Cheshire Kitten by SJ Tucker

This song and its words speak to my heart - and ties in to my project. Though it is all my own interpretation of the lyrics and might not be intended this way here's how I see it. (I'll only post the relevant parts of the lyrics so this post isn't too long)

Lyrics:

"I grew up seeing things a little differently, appearing

Disappearing, hardly innocent, nor

Tied down to the ground

I learned to roll and tumble with the punches

.......

Walk by invisible and never make a sound"

-This to me is reminiscent of an abusive household, with adults "appearing, disappearing" and an unstable home life "hardly innocent nor tied down to the ground" and how children within it learn to "walk by invisible" to avoid the abuse. These types of children often end up "seeing things a little differently" than their peers and have trouble fitting in.

"Hard and fast shines the grin that we flash,

but there's a vulnerable stripe or two on me

Maybe any place outside of Wonderland

Is not for me, my friend"

-Abused children learn to hide what goes on at home with a "grin" especially as they tend to see what happens as normal. Though they are prone to sudden angry or sad outbursts due to "a vulnerable stripe or two"

One common coping mechanism used is to lose themselves in their "Wonderland" and detatch from reality. Preferring their fantasy worlds and imagination to "any place outside"

"If I leave my grin behind, remind me

That we're all mad here

And it's okay"

-This I believe is a cry for validation. That everyone goes through their own problems "and it's okay" not to be okay.

"I have learned to see and hear

Everybody loud and clear

But the truth comes out in riddles that are

Safe enough to share"

-These lyrics show how the truth often isn't "safe enough to share" in a direct way with anyone. It is something that must be approached in a careful manner as to not cause any more trauma. Sometimes these children will drop hints or "riddles" of what might be happening in their unconscious behaviour - it's up to us to solve them and help.

Though I doubt the lyrics were intended to be interpreted in this way- I find them really meaningful. It shows inside the mind of people who had no "play" in their lives, who were preoccupied with survival first and foremost - losing their childhood in the process and their ability to relate with their peers.

*This is an image is of my first tattoo - it is of my own design. I wanted the words to resemble the cheshire smile. It's a reminder that everyone has some type of trauma, and it's okay. Don't judge anyone by their smile and don't make their day any worse - you don't know what they could be going through.

12/11/21

#Youtube

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decarbry · 5 years

Photo

but heavy is the crown that’s always hidden, tender is the heart you never see hard and fast shines the grin that we flash, but there’s a vulnerable stripe or two on me (cheshire kitten - s. j. tucker)

----> Prints Available!! <3

#illustration #critical role #critical role fanart #mollymauk #mollymauk tealeaf #fan art

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queenofcats17 · 4 years

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“Hard and fast shines the grin that we flash, but there’s a vulnerable stripe or two on me...”

I was introduced to this song recently and...really vibed with it. So I decided to draw a thing

#my art #sona

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occasionalmemes · 4 years

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SJ TUCKER SENTENCE STARTERS

cheshire kitten.

“ i grew up seeing things a little differently, appearing, disappearing, hardly innocent, nor tied down to the ground. ” “ i learned to roll and tumble with the punches.” “ heavy is the crown that's always hidden. ” “ tender is the heart you never see. ” “ hard and fast shines the grin that we flash, but there's a vulnerable stripe or two on me. ” “ maybe any place outside of _____ is not for me, my friend. ” “ if i leave my grin behind, remind me that we're all mad here and it's okay. ” “ the shadows hide me down in _____. ” “ _____, nobody knows the way.” “ if you find it in your dreams, you can find it at your dayjob somewhere south of Hell. ” “ take the path to left or right with just your gut to guide you. ” “ the story is not for anyone else to tell. ” “ go down the rabbit hole and out the other side. ” “ you can't go home in the middle of the magic carpet ride. ” “ you gotta greet the sun before his lovely daughter moon. ” “ you can't forsake the journey for the safety of your room. ” “ learn your lesson well. ” “ i have learned to see and hear everybody loud and clear. ” “ the truth comes out in riddles that are safe enough to share. ” “ that's how it is in songs, you see.” “ heavy is the burden of the wise ones when no one understands a word they say. ” “ the Jabberwock never bothered anyone, but nobody believes him to this day.” “ and why should they? ” “ is it the stripes or the spots you see? ” “ was it hearts or diamonds, baby, brought you here to me? ” “ darling, you know better than to trust a pack of cards! ” “ what have we learned? ” “ the world is never as mad as it could be. ” “ we’re all mad here, and it’s okay. ”

were-owl.

“ look long enough into the eyes of any creature, there's no knowing what you'll find. ” “ we all seek the light one way or another, mostly flying blind. ” “ everything flies at the mercy of the moonlight, lovers more than most at times. ” “ you've sought the light where few have ever found it. ” “ little one, seek and ye shall find. ” “ take care what you find in the tawny eyes of a hunter by night. ” “ who is it dares to find these feathers, stroke this skin? ” “ how can you dream of the night he spreads his wings to hold you, shows you all he knows and lets you in?” “ i've heard it said none but fools will ever count on shifting shapes and flying dreams. ” “ foolish the heart that lights upon a love who's never what he seems.” “ shows one face at dawn and another in the twilight. ” “ kings have worn his shape before. ” “ lord of the evening, so handsome in the sunlight, leaves you wanting so much more. ” “ child, death is a dance on the forest floor! ” “ shifting shapes and flying dreams, love is never what it seems. ” “ be his love and not his prey. ”

love lies.

“ love lies downwind waiting patiently to be found. ” “ angel don't make a sound unless you are the one i have been waiting for. ” “ you are the one i have been waiting for. ” “ i've been downwind waiting for you to come around. ” “ there is no one soul that will swallow me whole and let me out shining and beautiful, no. ” “ in love there is loss of control, but like the rivers, i roll. are you in for the ride? ” “ where will you sleep tonight? ” “ love lies, downwind waiting, with the silence of tigers and a hunger burning bright with a heart song shining bright. ” “ desert star, shine a light. ”

don’t get my hopes up.

“ lately I'm a little bit prickly. ” “ everything hurts when you fall in love hard enough, rock bottom doesn't feel so bad. ” “ i wouldn't quite call this bitchy. ” “ when I am on my best behavior I'll fool you like a grown-up little girl who didn't know how good she had it before. ” “ when desire walks through your door and all hell breaks loose times four, you'll understand and maybe you won't pull smooth maneuvers on your suitors anymore. ” “ when desire walks through your door and all hell breaks loose times four, you'll understand.” “ maybe you won't pull smooth maneuvers on your suitors anymore. ” “ don't you go getting my hopes up, girl. ” “ you'll be sorry and so will i. ” “ last thing either one of us needs is yet another reason to cry. ” “ i know that i'm your last in line. ” “ i oughtta know better than to call you mine. ” “ say a flat out "no" to my face, that's fine, but don't get my hopes up, girl. ” “ lately I'm a pretty good swimmer-- so far up the creek cuz I fell in love hard enough hot water doesn't seem so dire. ” “ i must've quit paying attention, baby, i have to tell you the line is blurred pretty bad between the frying pan and the fire. ” “ when love sneaks up on you and fries your circuits through and through, you'll understand and maybe forgive me my trespasses, for I know not what I do. ” “ when love sneaks up on you and fries your circuits through and through, you'll understand.” “ forgive me my trespasses, for I know not what I do. ” “ don't you go getting my hopes up, boy. ” “ i'm not one for second chances once you've made me cry. ” “ my dance card's full, my waiting list is too backed up for shit like this. ” “ go ahead and pretend that i don't exist, but don't get my hopes up, boy. ” “ when desire walks through your door and all hell breaks loose times four, you'll understand. ” “ maybe you won't demand good manners from your lovers anymore. ” “ don't you go getting my hopes up, love. ” “ you'll be sorry 'til the day you die. ” “ i see you wishing on your star and wishes cannot lie. ” “ i make 'em too, or haven't you heard? ” “ waste a few on you cuz i never did learn. ” “ i know courage is harder to show than concern. ” “ you can't steal fire and not get burned. ” “ i will try to hold out and wait my turn, but don't get my hopes up, love. ”

neptune.

“ years ago i came to you, down beneath your ripples, submitting to the mystery of life beneath the waves. ” “ years i floated near you, swimming in your subterrain, rocked within the opium embrace of Triton's tomb. ” “ time i lost just fussing over every little thing you asked for. ” “ let myself keep fading, silver fishes through my skin. ” “ somewhere i stopped breathing, but i missed the kiss of air. ” “ someday in my castle keep, where rumors fly and questions creep they'll say to me, what of the lord of the deep? ” “ i'll say, i knew him once but he was asleep. ” “ there's no light where you are, my Neptune. ” “ to the mountains i will fly, away from you. ” “ free from the waves into new love's arms, back to the realm of the sky. ” “ years ago I came to you, in love and doomed to drowning, beholden to the mystery of life beneath the waves. ” “ years i floated near you, i will never see again. ” “ how i could tarry in the opium embrace of Triton's tomb. ” “ years ago i came to you, in love and doomed by what i knew. ” “ though i miss the mystery now of life beneath the waves, thin air's as sweet as water when your body begs to breathe. ” “ and so i leave when i must leave. ” “ don't weep for love i couldn't save. ” “ all of us who dare to love are brave! ”

girl with the lion’s tail.

“ don't look for home in me between the lines of this, our fairytale. ” “ man cannot follow the monsters. ” “ it’s simple for you, love, but never for me. ” “ nothing can be as it once was. ” “ call me a beast as you've always done, but one which can no longer love you. ” “ look for me not, lover, i am long gone. how can you hope to follow? ” “ you're meant to crawl upon your knees, not steal my soul or talk to me. ” “ the last thing i would ever do. ” “ i am the place where air meets ice. ” “ i don't want to be the girl you tame, an oddity locked away somewhere safe. ” “ i don't want to be the girl you tame, your one-heart menagerie, lonely. ” “ give me back the girl i was, the beast i used to be, shedding the skin of this creature. ” “ you were never cage enough to keep the light inside. ” “ deny me the sky and i'm running. ” “ a lion must keep something back for her own if she's been let to live. ” “ i'd sooner run than waste away at home. ” " you already have all that I had to give. ” “ take away your holiness, your pleading and your crying eyes. ” “ bring me back the girl i was, untamed. ” “ cry me a river to hell. ” “ hell or home, it's all much the same. ”

the truth about ninjas

“ paragon of dignity, untouchable and lethal. ” “ there's more to life than shuriken. ” “ sudden death comes easy when you practice every day. ” “ you'll think you're ten feet tall and bulletproof until you pass my way. ” “ you will never see it coming. ” “ no one's sad to see you go. ” “ within my eyes you'll glimpse a wisdom you were not prepared to know. ” “ in fearing what you cannot see, you fall beneath my hand. ” “ this is a ninja thing, you wouldn’t understand. ” “ you will never know i'm here until it's far too late. ” “ it is a ninja's way to pass unseen and not to storm the gate. ” “ moving quieter than kitten, circumnavigating law. ” “ you'll never hear a thing. ” “ the soul has always been corrupted, but the heart and hands are clean. ” “ the game is glory but I take my joy in leaving not a trace. ” “ my actions, quick as lightning, unintended to hurt you. ” “ i'm only doing what a ninja's gotta do. ” “ i won't say life is hard, but i must restrain my urges to run naked through my yard. ” “ my career would shrivel up and die, but damn would it be fun! ” “ i'd pirouette beneath the moonlight. ”

#sentence starters #inbox memes #sentence memes #roleplay memes #roleplay starters #inbox starters

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