#the way she trusted him so ardently???

[ghost-proofbaby]

i’ve said it once, i’ve said it twice, i’ll say it a million times — writing willow and eddie will always feel like coming home to me. i know eddie x oc isn’t popular but- god, these idiots are so near and dear to my heart.

#i had to reread chapter 21 of shire for the scene i’m writing and i just #they were just babies #their early interactions will always get to me #eddie making jokes about sacrificing people in the woods?? subtly trying to remind willow of his reputation?? #willow not even so much as flinching and going on to show just how comfortable she had grown so quickly with him???? #the way she trusted him so ardently??? #the way he always saw bravery in her and had unwavering faith in her?? #god #sometimes when i reread it i can’t fathom that *I* wrote this shit #the metaphor of her running right into the water being her running right into the relationship with eddie??? #IDK WHO WROTE THIS BUT IT CERTAINLY COULDNT HAVE BEEN ME WHAT THE FUCK #ITD BE AN HONOR MISS JENKINS WHAT THE FUCK #THEIR ALMOST KISS WAAAHHH #‘don’t die on me’ hehehehe #aw no it’d be a shame if he ever had to say that in a serious context #psh no it wasn’t foreshadowing on my part ever who would do that #a monster that’s who #wow those of you that read my tags are gonna have a fuckin field day my bad #mordor #hailey shut up #hailey talks too much

[kasagia]

Lovers to strangers

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x fem!Lantsov princess! reader Summary: The worst thing that can happen is to go from a passionate, ardent feeling to cold indifference. Turning the people you held dearest into strangers. But could YOUR Aleksander ever be a stranger to you again? You have to choose what is more important to you. Ravka and the crown that is rightfully yours, or the man who trampled on your naive, young heart. The choice should be simple... right? Word Count: 8.9k Inspired by: Chance Peña - Lovers to strangers Taglist: @aoi-targaryen @il0vebeingdelulu @chelseyyouraverageluigi ~•♤♤♤•~ Aleksander Morozova's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist

The evenings at the Little Palace were your favourites.

Especially since, from the window of Aleksander's chambers, you had no view of the Grand Palace—your golden cage.

Princess of Ravka. A prisoner in her own country. Well... at least there was one place in the capital where you didn't feel like you were locked in.

Or rather, a bed...

"I can hear your toughts…" the man cuddling up to you mumbles into your collarbone. You can't help but giggle at the feeling of his soft lips brushing against your skin. The feeling of his rough beard gives you pleasant shivers.

"I thought Grisha couldn't read in minds… unless you have another special ability of which I don't know, my general." you say teasingly, stroking his hair.

You can't help but touch this dangerous man. Something has drawn you to him since the first day you came back to Os Alta after Nikolai's disappearance. And as you managed to get a taste of this incredible man, you wanted more and more.

"I have many things that you don't know yet, moya tsarevna. I am a danger. I will break your heart if you trust me so blindly."

"Saints, I love when you speak old Ravkan." you say, leaning in to kiss him again. "Besides, you can't break something that doesn't exist."

It doesn't take long for him to kiss you back. His hand is immediately on your check as he pushes you back on the pillows. He hoovers above you, his lips (far from being gently) moving against yours as his tongue is slipping into your mouth like a snake. He conquers you in every sense of the word.

"Aleksander..." you moan, brushing against him.

"Your grace." he says teasingly, and then completely moves away from you. You look at him furious and offended as the frustration grows inside you. "My little brat. She always has to have what she wants, right?"

"You should know better than to challenge me. I am the heir to the throne, your princess."

"If I remember correctly, you have two older brothers." he points out, placing soft kisses on your collarbone. His beard tickles gently, only further amplifying the fluttering butterflies in your stomach.

"If I remember correctly, I have a general of the Second Army as my secret lover. The Darkling. With your shadows by my side and our combined intelligence and manipulation skills? We are unstoppable."

"Who said I wouldn't betray you? That I wouldn't make myself tsar and take you as my concubine or mistress?" he asks darkly, smiling slyly at you. His pearly teeth gleam menacingly, only making you laugh.

"You won't. You love me too much… Besides…" you lean closer to him and put the dagger to his throat. He laughs a little as he notices that it is the weapon that he had hidden under his pillow. "I'm much more than just a pretty face and royal blood. If you betray me, nothing will stop me from making you my enemy. It works both ways, Aleksander. If you hurt me, I will hurt you back. I won't sit and cry over my fate. I am creating my legacy and future. Not any men."

"I see." he grabs you by your hips and pushes on the headboard of the bed. You moan as he takes the dagger from you and puts it on your throat. "But don't you think this is better? You under me, trembling with desire." he whispers seductively into your ear. And you almost surrender to his touch and the seductive tone of his voice. Almost...

"You don't want an obedient toy. You want an equal. Only I can be one." you say confidently as you two stare into each other's eyes. You both breathe fast and heavily. You reach your hand towards his and put it on the tip of the dagger. "You wouldn't drag me to your bed if you didn't see it. You despise my family, just as I do, and Ravkans, but here you are: in bed with the princess of Ravka. And we both know that is not all about power, connections, or being part of a greater plan, is it?"

He looks at you deeply, watching your every little reaction as he leans towards you. His shadows play around; a few of them are climbing onto the bed and gently brushing against you two. You tremble with pleasure as you feel them on your hot skin. You moan, pressing yourself against him. You feel the coldness of the metal against your skin, and a little drop of blood slowly falls down on your chest.

He throws the dagger away and uses his tongue to lick the trace of blood on your skin. He sucks up the little wound he made a few seconds ago. You see the shadows getting around you as he loses himself in you.

"You're mine, Aleksander." you whisper into his ear. "And we are all we need anyway. Only I am able to see and embrace the darkness within you." you feel his moan at your words before you hear it. You tremble at his reaction.

"You will regret that, Y/N." he warns, or rather anticipates. You see the sincerity and concern in his eyes as they talk about how you will inevitably abandon him.

"Maybe. But not now." you gasp and pull him to you as you two kiss greedily. His hand goes to your waist, pressing you closer to him. You shiver as you feel the cold metal of his claw ring against your skin. "Sasha..."

"Say it again." he demands. His dark eyes glow against the shadows swirling around you. You lift your hand to caress his cheek softly and tenderly. Your fingertips brush against his chin as you slowly slide your hand down to his neck to trace the hickeys you've already given him.

"Sasha..." you moan as his lips brush against your jaw to tease your neck with their softness and warmth.

"Again." another silent command as the shadows begin to surround you more and more.

"Sasha... moi souveryni... moi ottenok (my shadow)." he silences you with a hard, demanding kiss, tangling his large hand in the back of your head and positioning you to suit his needs as he deepens the kiss, searching for your tongue.

Yes... the darkness of his chambers was definitely your favourite place on earth.

"Are you mad?” you huff, glaring at your elder brother.

You sit in your deceased father's chambers, discussing Ravka's fate in whispers among the nobility. Your eldest brother, Vasily, is chatting with some of the nobles, hoping that he will gain their sympathy as he is going to take the throne after your father. Little did he know that you two had other plans for Ravka.

"What? Do you have a better idea? Mother is going crazy, Vasily wants to play king, and the Grishas are about to start a civil war on us. There's no other way."

"I didn't become a widow just to fawn over some man again. Especially not over him. Besides, isn't he having eyes only on that Sun Summoner of yours?" you ask, nodding towards Alina, who is forced (as Vasily's fiancée) to stand by his side and listen to all the nonsense the nobles say.

"I'm not telling you to marry him... well, at least that's not what plan A is. Just approach him. Find out what he wants and whether he's willing to make arrangements with us. After all, you used to talk often. Especially at night in his chambers."

"Nikolai Lantsov, our father is lying dead in a coffin and you dare to remind me who I visited at night and who I didn't?"

"Please, as if you ever cared about that disgusting pig, who unfortunately for us was our father. Besides, you'd be curious too if I suddenly broke up with the love of my life and let our father sell me into marriage with Shu. Which was very surprising for all of us. You loved Kirigan. I know you did. And he felt the same." you roll your eyes at him, wondering where the bastard got this information since he wasn't in the palace at that time.

"And now I hate him. No. That's too much to say. I don't know him. I don't care about him. He's a stranger for whom I feel absolutely nothing. A traitor to the nation and the crown." you say, not hiding the anger in your voice.

"Don't say that as if we weren't called like that by our countrymen and subjects. But since you don't feel anything towards him, then I guess you won't be offended if I tell you that I solemnly invited him to negotiations regarding a possible settlement and peace?"

"What?! What did you… He agreed?" you ask him, shocked and annoyed that, after dropping such a bomb on you, he doesn't even dare look you in the eyes.

"Yes. As a sign of good will, we exchanged prisoners. I gave him back the Grishas he wanted, except for Genya, of course; it took the three of us a very long time to clear her name and guilt about killing our father. It would be too suspicious if we let her go so... easily." he nodded towards Alina, who was giving you a desperate look and asking for help. She was on the other side of the room with Vasily, who desperately tried to... get closer to her. "Sorry, I have to play hero. I just wanted to let you know that he agreed. He's coming tomorrow, right after the funeral." he says, and he approaches Alina to save her from the company of your brother and the nobility... and in the process, he saves himself from your wrath.

You shift your gaze from him to your hands and nervously start picking at your nails. You haven't seen HIM since you left Ravka to marry the Prince of Shu Han. When he treated you so vilely, putting the Sun Summoner on his pedestal, he forgot about you.

And you promised yourself a long time ago that you wouldn't let anyone neglect, humiliate, or disregard you. Especially to someone who isn't worth it. Who chose to ignore you when he meant the world to you.

That's why you decided to do the same as him and slightly modify your plans. Unfortunately, your husband turned out to be an idiot who did not meet your expectations and would only interfere with your grand plan. It's fortunate that he died.

"My princess." Genya's voice breaks you out of your thoughts. You shift your gaze to the woman in the red kefta. "Can I ask you for a minute of your time?"

"Of course." you say, leaving the room with the redhead. "Any news from David?" you ask as the two of you walk down the hall.

The nobles who pass you throw unfavourable glances at Grisha next to you, but you don't pay them any attention, or if you do, you give them a look that makes them look away from you.

"It's as if… he wrote that they were leaving their hideout and heading towards the palace." she speaks so quietly that only you can hear her.

Many things have changed since the Darkling's small, and fortunately unsuccessful, show of strength. The Grisha divided; most of them followed their general, wanting to finally gain some rights for themselves, and some of them stayed on the side of Alina and the crown.

So you had to return to the country quite quickly and strengthen the contacts with your spies. Your late husband's family was quite reluctant to let you go. Especially his younger brother, who was the only heir to the crown after his death... you could say that you and Niklaus started getting along much better after your husband's death.

Genya was a new addition. You had a pretty close relationship even before hell broke out in Ravka. You trusted her... within reason. And you were grateful to fate that she didn't join Alina. You didn't like the Sun Summoner... and it's very possible that private grudges played a large part in your dislike of her.

"How many of them?" you ask as you enter your office. The guards give you a curt bow and close the door behind you.

"Not enough for him to think about any plans of attack. But you can never be sure. I heard he acquired a new skill. He creates monsters from shadows. The nichevo'ya or something like that."

"He must be stupid to attack the palace now. We'll deal with his new skills later. For now, we need to locate Baghra. Where is she being held? Is she being held at all, and if not, where is she hiding? This old hag is the key to all of this. We can't do anything without her; we know as much as five-year-olds about the fold, amplifiers, and merzost." you say, flipping through the pages on your desk.

"Alina and Mal are working on locating another amplifier. They're scheduled to leave soon."

"Impossible. They're not going anywhere. I will not risk the lives of our only Sun Summoner and Compass to Morozova's amplifiers. The Darkling is heading this way; his men and spies may be anywhere, and recently, the number of Fjerdan provocations on our border has tripled."

"They won't stay locked up here."

"I am aware of this. But they won't move from here in the next two weeks. Our priority is peace with either the Darkling or the Fjerdan. We cannot wage two wars at once—civil and with another country. It's best if there's none, but I guess it is not possible. We have shed too much blood in the fold itself; we need to end this centuries-old conflict and not escalate it, because Ravka won't take any longer what is happening here."

"About that… I doubt that General… Darkling will be willing to compromise." you sigh, knowing full well that she could probably be right.

"Then we'll have to remove him from the picture." you say slowly, wondering if you were really ready for this.

"You mean..."

"I do not know yet." you interrupt her, not quite sure what you're going to do. And even if you knew, you had no intention of revealing such plans to anyone. "It depends on what the situation requires of us. Alina is too young to be a general. She may be a symbol of hope and a new, better future, but she is not fit to lead an entire army. And the Darkling… is unpredictable and out of any control."

"You miss him, don't you?" her question slightly catches you off guard.

You tried your hardest not to think... about him. Or what could have been if things between you went differently. You simply couldn't afford it. You had to be strong for Ravka, your subjects, and your brothers. And thinking about Aleksander certainly wouldn't make your situation any better.

"I… I think I miss the idea of him that I created in my mind. I miss the man I thought I knew. But in the end, he turned out to be like… just like anyone else."

"Like all powerful men." she sums up your statement, staring at the window behind you.

"Exactly." you nod, thinking about what she must have gone through under your father. That's why, whoever would take the throne, you promised yourself that you would make sure that there would be a whole new era for Ravka. "Genya." you call after her before she leaves your office.

"Yes, my princess?"

"Make sure you make time for David. After this hell… you two deserve the best." you give her a small smile before sending her away. You sigh, rubbing your hand over your forehead. There were so many things to plan and very little time.

But you can't help but think about Aleksander. There were rumours that the fold had destroyed it. That he had become crazy, ruthless, and devoid of any empathy or conscience.

Your hands involuntarily move to the cabinet and open it. You take the bracelet he gave you into your hands. Now you know that it had a special, rare piece of metal in it that allowed Durast to locate you from miles away—an ability Darkling must have used many times in the past. You made sure it was deleted, but... sentiment didn't let you throw it away. You don't know why. Or at least you don't want to admit to yourself this little weakness from the past.

"Why do you want to rule Ravka?" you frown at his question. You open your eyes and turn to the side to look at his face.

You took a little trip outside the palace. You were lying in a clearing in the forest on a picnic blanket. Your head was resting on Aleksander's stomach. One of his hands was lazily running through your hair, and the other was playing with your own hand.

"Why not? I would look nice on stamps and coins." you laugh carelessly, playing with his fingers.

"Answer the question." he says seriously, sitting up. Your head rests on his lap as he leans over you and looks at you with those piercing eyes of his, analysing your every little reaction.

"I don't want Ravka to look like it does now. Vasily is... like our father, conservative, without any new ideas, wanting to continue repeating established patterns. And Nikolai... is too controversial. He has revolutionary views, and the rule of both will end in a civil war. I don't want us to shed any more blood. Grisha and Ravkan... we are one. We are the same. Only you live a little longer and have additional benefits from your powers, but... it doesn't change the fact that we are born and die the same way. We believe in the same thing, and we want the same thing."

"Which is?" he asks, whispering, his dark eyes trained on you the entire time.

"Peace." you say, leaning back into him and closing your eyes. Sunlight filters through the treetops, illuminating your face. You sigh, wrapped in the warmth of your beloved Aleksander's arms and his scent. "Love." you add, opening your eyes and giving him a small, uncertain smile.

"You want to be loved?" he asks, disbelieving that someone like you, the daughter of the Lantsov family, could only want something so... simple. You always talked about taking power with ambition and fire in your eyes. He never thought that you didn't want it out of pure greed, but simply out of a desire to make Ravka better. Just like him.

"Everyone wants it. Even you, my mighty and scary shadow summoner." you snap him out of his thoughts by lifting your hand and caressing his bearded cheek. "And trust me when I say that I can give you all of the love of this world that you need."

"You don't know everything about me." he denies, knowing full well that you would run away from him, terrified, and that all your love for him would evaporate the moment you found out he was the Black Heret.

"You don't know everything about me either, sweetheart. I see your darkness. I see your struggles. You won't scare me away. You cannot. No amount of your shadows and the darkness of the past will do that." you promise, and he looks at you in shock. You push yourself up on your elbows and kiss him sweetly and lazily.

You act as if you have all the time in the world, and the only thing that matters is the two of you. And he allows himself to lose himself for a moment in this little fantasy you created with him in a forgotten clearing near the fountain dedicated to the Starless Saint.

"Eya fyela chi, moya tsarevna. For as long as I breathe. We shall rule together. Side by side." he whispers against your lips, and he's no longer sure who he's trying to fool. You or himself.

"I want nothing more, Aleksander." you reply, straddling him and cupping his neck as you pull him in for another kiss.

And he realises a very sad and bitter truth. That never before, in anyone else's arms, under anyone else's touches, kisses, and whispers of love and adoration, had he felt so happy and at peace as he did with you.

"Wow. Did Genya help you?" you snort at your brother's reaction as you enter the council room.

"What? Can't I dress nicely myself?" you mock him gently, laughing. You could slightly improve your appearance with the help of your favourite Grisha. After all, you had to show yourself to your ex somehow. And you were going to make sure the bastard would squirm, upset and mad that he wasn't with you anymore.

"Yes, you can, but you usually don't. Is this for a certain dark rebel general?" he teases with you, at which you roll your eyes.

"NO. And I wish you wouldn't insinuate such things. I'm not saying you're dressing up for the Sun Summoner or for that squaller of hers who's arguing with her all the time. Exactly! Who are you ultimately in love with? I haven't been able to keep up with the updates lately. You know. Saving my country from the fire of rebellion, and so on."

"You know what... I was going to wait here with you to spare you a one-on-one confrontation with our very peaceful and cute Darkling... BUT I remembered that Alina was waiting for me. Will you entertain your ex until we get here? Thanks, sister." he winks at you, smiling when he sees your expression fall, and he heads towards the exit, humming.

"Son of a bitch." you mutter under your breath as he walks past you.

"Yes, indeed!" he replies with an even bigger smile. You can only laugh and shake your head at him as he leaves you alone in the room.

You pace around the room, nervously picking at the bracelet on your wrist.

This was supposed to be the first time you would see him since you left for Shu Han and married their prince there. You heard that he changed after the events in the fold. That he went crazy about Alina and became obsessed with HIS Sun Summoner. His lust for power and greed only increased his dark madness, which made even his most trusted Grisha fear.

You heard rumours that he always had shadow monsters by his side and that he received a souvenir from his volcras in the form of black scars marring his face. Though you're not sure if anything can disfigure him.

Somehow, you feel him approaching. Before he touches the door handle, you know he's behind it. You lean against the table with Ravka's map on it and wait. Your heart beats rapidly as the silence of the room is broken by the sound of the door opening.

He doesn't come in right away. He freezes the moment he sees you. You take in his new appearance carefully, less surprised to see him than he is to see you. He has a few black scars on his face, his complexion is sallower, and his eyes are cloudy, probably from lack of sleep.

"Kirigan." you say, as he still doesn't make any moves towards you. The sound of your voice wakes him from his trance. He closes the door behind him, letting in a single shadow creature that follows silently behind him. You only stare at it for a moment before your gaze returns to his dark irises, which have been staring at you continuously since he opened the door.

"Princess." he watches you carefully, as if looking for any flaw—the slightest shake in your stoic and unflappable demeanour. Something that would prove to him that you're not better off without him. "I've heard about your husband's death. My sincere condolences." he says it in the most insincere tone you've ever heard.

"Thank you. It is very hard. He was such a good husband. Possibly the best I could come across." you say, smiling sadly, which only angers him more.

You see him press his lips into a thin line. His dark eyes never leave you, as he takes in every new detail in your appearance. His shadow monsters stand obediently behind him.

"Is this necessary?" you ask, nodding towards the shadow creature.

"Does it scare you? My Nichevo'ya are always with me." he says, as if to challenge you.

"No. Not at all. But now I don't wonder why no one else is besides it." your snide remark clearly hurts his pride. He takes a breath to respond, but the door opens again, and this time Alina and Nikolai join you.

"Aleksander." Sun Summoner greets him, and you roll your eyes. Of course he would tell her his real name. After all, it was his solnishka.

"Alina." he nods at her, taking his eyes off you. Because how could you compare to his sunshine?

"Nikolai. Welcome everyone. I guess we can start." Nikolai interjects jokingly, trying to break the obvious tension in the room. And by the way the three of you look at each other, you already know that this isn't going to be an easy negotiation at all.

"Egs." The man next to you hands you what you want. "Flour." He pours it in for you, which you let him do, considering that there wasn't a single bag in the Little Palace's kitchen and you were both too lazy to look for a bowl to measure it out with. Besides, you know it would end just like last time—a big war that the servants would have to clean up later. "Sugar." He hands you a clay jar, and you taste some of it before pouring it into the dough. You wince when you taste the salt, at which he laughs loudly. "Aleksander! What did I tell you last time?! I'm making you a birthday cake; you could at least not try to sabotage me." You roll your eyes at him and reach for the sugar yourself.

"I told you it wasn't necessary. There are other activities we could engage in." He murmurs against your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"If you had told me earlier, and not after the amazing sex, calling it the best birthday present you ever received, then we could. Now take your hands off me and help me mix the dough."

"But it's my birthday… shouldn't I be the one giving you orders?" He asks, giving you puppy-dog eyes. You break your facade and lean in, kissing him sweetly, only to pull away from him the moment his hands touch the hem of one his shirts he gave you to wear.

"Maybe next year. Now you better figure out how we can fit 200 candles in here for you." You pat his chest and try not to bite your lip as he rolls up the sleeves of his shirt and starts mixing the dough. You watch him uninhibitedly, though, and the way the muscles in his arms move.

"Actually, a little more."

"How many?" You ask curiously, taking a sip of wine from his glass since yours is long gone.

"531." You choke on your alcohol, and he laughs, wiping the rest of the cake off his hands and patting you gently on the back.

"Saints, I'm sleeping with a fossil."

"Just half an hour ago, you were doing it very enthusiastically, I must say."He whispers seductively, pressing a kiss on your temple as you transfer the dough to the baking tin.

"Oh, shut up." you say, trying to resist him somehow, but you both know how it will end soon. "Because someone will come in here and see us."

With a wave of his hand, a thick layer of shadows appears around the door. The palace kitchen is immersed in a gentle darkness; the only source of light is the fire from the stove where the cake is baked and the window.

"We have a while before it's ready... can I play with my present again?" he asks, picking you up and sitting on the table, getting between your legs.

"Do not say that. It's creepy." you say, pushing his hands away from the ties of the shirt you're wearing. He's not at all put off and instead attacks your neck with kisses.

"It's my birthday; you told me I could do anything with you, moya tsarevna." He reminds you, biting lightly on the skin of your neck and making you moan.

You tangle your hands in his hair and push him away from you. The disgruntled frown on his face reminds you of the face of a grumpy child, but you can't laugh now since you're trying to regain control of yourself.

"Within reason... so don't think you can seduce me with your old Ravkan, touch, or kisses. We are not doing that here." you state firmly, but he doesn't give up.

"But lapushka, you are the only dessert I want, milaya. Moi sol ye tselai. Zyoma maya olya. Eya chela (I'm hungry) for you. Eya fyela chi, don't you love me too, moya koroleva?" He whispers against your skin as he places kisses all over your face, his beard tickling you again, making you go completely soft for him the moment his lips capture yours in a hot, deep kiss that takes your breath away.

And neither of you are surprised that you almost set the kitchen of the Little Palace on fire, completely forgetting about the cake.

"I want my summoner back." you huff at his absurd demand, at which he frowns at you furiously.

"You have no right to her."

"She had trained under my and Baghr's gaze. She owes me. Her service will be enough payment."

"She is the bride of Ravka and the fiancée of one of my brothers." you continue firmly, not allowing anyone else to speak up and ignoring Alina's annoyed look at you.

"One of them?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Is there a problem?" you growl in anger. He shifts in his seat; the strange creature is hovering next to him like a faithful dog, reacting to his every slightest movement. The son of a bitch tried to intimidate you.

"Not at all. It's good to know who I should get out of my way."

"If you mean what I think..." you start threateningly, completely ignoring his shadow monster.

"It would be very hard for her to be the bride of Ravka without a groom." he finishes his thought, smirking ominously at you when he sees your furious reaction.

"Oh, not at all. I would also be able to marry her." you tell him, and he glares at you madly. You hear this strange thing growling at his side. Apparently, it must have felt and shared his emotions.

"While being already mine? I doubt so."

"I belong to no one, and she belongs to Ravka!" you shout, standing up and slamming your hand on the table.

"She belongs to Grisha!" he stands up as well, banging his fist on the table. You both lean over the table on opposite sides, looking at each other hatefully. Shadows gather around him, behind his back.

"She is a person! And can speak out for herself. Thank you two very much. You know it, right? Saints, you two are perfect for each other." Nikolai interrupts the two of you before you two start a fight. He rubs his eyes with his hand and looks at the clock. "Gene… ekhem… Lord… um… Mister Kirigan. I think it would be better for all of us if we went to sleep. You and your people had a long way here; I'm sure you would use some sleep and the comfort of a bath." you'd laugh at your brother's awkwardness if your ex didn't get on your nerves like a damn master.

The Darkling sighs, nodding. He stands up, brushing invisible dust from his all-black kefta.

"I guess my chambers are still where they were?" he asks, heading towards the door, and you just can't help but stab him in the back at goodnight.

"You are not allowed to walk inside the Little Palace." you say stoically. Aleksander stops. Nikolai and Alina look at you as if you were a madwoman, suicidal.

"What?" he asks, turning towards you to glare daggers at you.

"That's not your property. You don't choose where you sleep."

"I built a Little Palace with my own hands when you were not even planning to come to this world!"

"And yet I am the one who has any rights to it. Besides, if you want to play that card, most of the population on this planet wasn't even planning to come to the world, and yet you are not going around and claiming things that don't belong to you. It also didn't stop you from seducing someone much younger than you."

"You… you are walking on very thin ice, princess." he growls at you furiously, getting so close that you're only a few centimetres apart. From this distance, you can get a good look at the black, raw scars on his face.

"I am not afraid." you reply firmly, looking at him defiantly and tilting your chin up. You both breathe heavily. Rage is boiling within you two; you both know it's not just caused by the disagreements over Ravka and Grisha, but something far more personal...

"You should be." he whispers. Your breaths practically mingle...

"If you say: make me, I will throw out my dinner. And I would rather not." you roll your eyes at your brother.

You throw one last hateful glare at Aleksander and walk to the exit. You can't stop yourself from hitting him in his arms with your own. He growled something under his breath, mad, but you don't care to listen.

You leave the room confident that you've won this little battle between the two of you. Little did you know that the real one wouldn't be fought between you until late at night.

"A chauvinistic imbecile who thinks that just because he was born first and has a penis between his legs, he has the right to behave like a future king. Even his stupid horses are smarter than him."

"Don't insult the horses, darling." Aleksander mutters over his papers, looking through the latest reports from under the fold.

He was about to leave for Kirbirsk to supervise the crossing of a new type of boat to the other side of the wall of shadows. You didn't like the prospect of being away from him for such a long time. Especially when your oldest (and probably stupidest) brother tried to convince your parents to marry you to the prince of Shu Han.

"Doesn't it bother you? Seriously? What if he succeeds and you will never see me again?" You ask furiously, crossing your arms and looking at him.

"No way, you're too much of a nuisance for me to get rid of you so easily." He replies jokingly. However, when he finally looks up at you and sees your serious, mad attitude, he throws the papers on the desk and stands up. He walks over to you and cups your cheek with his hand tenderly, which you reluctantly allow, still furious with him. "Even if something like that happens, which I highly doubt, given your manipulative skills, connections, and a large, beautiful mind that many men should fear, I will come for you. Always. Even if I have to fight the volcras, I will always come back for you." He says, placing a tender kiss on your forehead. "You are mine, moya tsarevna. I'm not sharing you with anyone. Especially some pompous, high-born idiot who haunts Girsha like a haunting dog."

'But how long will it last? How long will you be feeling like this? I will die. Much faster than you. I am like a small ink stain in your long-lived book of life." you say, fully aware that you two are a lost cause.

But he doesn't let you think about it for long. He latches onto your lips hungrily, redirecting your thoughts to him and this moment between you. He pins you to the war table and effectively takes over your every little cell as his tongue tangles with yours. He moans softly as you tangle your hands in his hair. He somehow manages to distance himself from you. He rests his forehead against yours, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs.

"You are not a stain. You are my light. Something I have wanted for centuries but could never experience. You saw me... all of me. And you never turned away. You never judged me for who I was or what I did. And I will do everything. Everything in my power to make sure you shine for me as long as possible, moya lapushka."

"So you won't replace me? For someone else? More powerful? Equal to you? You won't change us from lovers to strangers?" you ask as he places small kisses on your cheeks, jaw, neck, and collarbone.

"Never." he whispers against your lips before kissing you again, his fingers finding effortlessly their way to the buttons of your dress, stroking and kissing every little bit of your skin he exposes as a promise.

Which he breaks a few weeks later when he meets Sun Summoner.

You know you shouldn't fall asleep in his chambers when he's back in Os Alta, but you've been doing it since you returned to Ravka.

After your first sleepless night in your chambers, you snuck into the Little Palace and into his chambers. And you hated yourself for how pathetic you were when you fell asleep the moment you wrapped yourself in his black blanket.

At first, you were tormented by memories of the time you spent with him, but as the days and weeks passed, memories of him only haunted you in your dreams. And now it was mostly habit that kept you in the general's chambers. After all, you spent a lot of time here. In fact, most of your happy memories. What a pity that they were just a facade, a web of lies that Aleksander had been weaving since the beginning of your relationship.

You shiver as a sudden chill passes through you. You reluctantly get out of bed and wrap yourself in a blanket. You walk over to the window, making sure it's closed, and close the curtains, plunging the room into complete darkness.

Suddenly, an arm wraps around you, pulling you into a broad chest. Before you can scream, a hand covers your mouth, and when you see the familiar black ring on one of the man's fingers, you go into a fit of pure fury.

You struggle against his grip, screaming into his hand, trying to bite it somehow. The blanket falls off of you, causing his arm to press you tighter against his body. You heat up as you feel yourself perfectly fitting against his body, involuntarily remembering... much more pleasant situations when he pressed you against him.

"Stop it. You'll only get tired. And I want to talk to you like a civilised person, so calm down." He whispers in your ear. His bearded cheek brushes against yours as he moves his hand from your mouth to your neck, squeezing gently as a reminder that if you try anything, he's ready to punish you.

"Calm the fuck down yourself. Since when does a civilised man sneak into a woman's bedroom to talk to her?"

"This isn't your bedroom."

"And this is not your palace." you reply teasingly, and by the way he tightens his grip on you, you know he has a scowl on his face. You smile, pleased that you're able to get under his skin.

"This is debatable. Will you stay still and listen to me, or do I have to hold you like that? Not that I mind, but I'd rather look at your face."

"And I feel disgusted every time I look at you, so I'd rather stay like this."

Not a second passes after you finish your sentence when he turns you around in his arms and pushes you against the large window behind you. You're glad you managed to close the curtains earlier; otherwise, you would have been pressed against the cold glass instead of the soft, velvety fabric by the angry Black Heretic.

And you wonder if you're losing your mind or if you've gained courage if you don't feel an ounce of fear as his shadow monsters circle around you. You can't quite recall how he called them since his dark eyes stared at you with an intense fire, which made you speechless for a while.

"You really have nothing else to tell me?" He asks calmly this time, running his thumb over the base of your neck. As if he were playing with his prey.

However, subconsciously, you know that he won't hurt you. If not for the sake of his feelings towards you, then at least because he's not stupid enough to kill Ravka's princess while he's negotiating... which you actually have no idea why he agreed to.

"Like what?" You finally ask, breaking the silence that had fallen between you. His face falls, you see a hint of disappointment in his eyes, and your eyes involuntarily land on the scars on his forehead, cheek, and nose. And suddenly, you feel a huge need to run your finger over them.

"I don't know... maybe why did you run away? You left and got married to Shu Han dog without saying me anything!"

"I didn't want to interrupt your fun with Alina. Honestly, what did you expect after you found yourself another woman? That I'll stay in some fucking threesome with you and your Sun Summoner?! You're not that good in bed, sweetheart." You mock him and the fact that he had the nerve to call you out on what you did. As if he wasn't the first to break the promises you made to each other in the privacy of his chambers. You were supposed to be partners in crime. It's not your fault that he decided to turn you into strangers.

"You know damn well that she was only a means to an end! The issue here is that you left me! You of all people turned away from me and ran away as if I meant nothing to you!" He shouts madly, slamming his hand on the window behind you in anger. You're surprised it didn't break into pieces under the pressure of his strength.

"Is that why you stuck your tongue in her mouth?! Because she was just a means to an end—a weapon you wanted to use? Besides, when were you going to tell me about widening the fold?!"

"That wasn't a reason for you to run away to another fucking country and marry anyone only to spite me!"

"But it was enough for you to kill him?!" You further question his actions, revealing to him that you know full well on whose orders the poison was poured into your husband's chalice... or that the black scars on his body were not caused by an infection.

"And how else could you be mine again?! Also, don't pretend that you have any morals. We both know that you didn't particularly mourn his death. I had to somehow fix the mistakes you made because of your bratty attitude."

"If you would just be honest with me from the beginning, you fucking distrustful son of a bitch, then there would be nothing to fix!”

"Do you want me to be honest?" He growls furiously, leaning towards you, your noses practically brushing against each other as he keeps his gaze on your eyes. "There wasn't a single damned second that I didn't think about you. Not a single dream without you, tormenting me because I can't have you. Do you know what I was thinking about in the fold when I thought I was going to die? About you. All I could think about was the time we spent together, when I had you in my arms. I do not want anyone else. Alina or any other fucking Sun Summoner. I don't want power; I can't do anything without you by my side anyway. So don't stand here and blame me for ruining our relationship when I love you with all the shattered heart I have left."

"So don't give me reasons to leave." You whisper, tired from all this arguing, as he reinforces your belief that you both suffered without each other and that you got under each other's skin so deeply that it was impossible to stop thinking about each other.

You hold back the tears you promised yourself not to shed because of him. He cups your cheek tenderly in his hand and rests his forehead against yours as you breathe out shakily, trying to maintain your facade in front of him.

"Maybe you should stop running away every time you have doubts about me? Why can't you have some faith in me?" He asks in a shaky voice, making you open your eyes to meet his pleading gaze. It's the first time in your life you've seen him so... defenseless. Open. Vulnerable.

"I have no doubt about you, Aleksander. I know you are capable of anything. That nothing can stand in your way if you really set your mind to it, not even Alina or Baghra. I don't care about Alina, what you wanted to do with her, or if your plans were moral or not. The problem is that you lied to me. You went behind my back."

"And look where it got me. Do you think I'll do it again?" He asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and pressing a kiss on your forehead.

He rests his lips against your forehead for a while, burying his nose in your hair and inhaling your scent as you both try your best to have a proper conversation and don't melt in each other's arms.

"I don't now. You gave me many reasons not to trust you. Alina's case, destroying the fold, Baghra being your mother. I guess the list goes on and on."

"The last one had reasonable reasons." he says, pulling away from you to look into your eyes.

You can't help but burst out laughing. He smiles and cups your cheek in his hand. The healed scar from the amplifier attracts your attention.

"You removed it. Why? That was your only connection to Alina and her power." You ask confused, realising that the strange connection between them didn't disappear because Alina became stronger but because he completely removed the amplifier from his system.

"The only connection I want to have is with you." He says confidently, taking your hands in his. "Besides... after using Merzost, I became... weaker. Holding this amplifier would cause infection, poison my blood, and ultimately kill me."

"Are you… dying? After the second use of Merzost?"

"Don't worry, moya tsarevna. I have a long enough life ahead of me with you." He says, caressing your cheek. "And after discovering some entries from my grandfather's diary, I know how to extend it for you."

"What if I don't want it? If I don't want you anymore?"

"Then I have nothing to lose. I will do anything to bring Grisha to the throne, to their place above everyone else in this damn country. And I'll make sure you stay by my side. Willingly or not. You always belonged to me. You were supposed to rule with me, side by side. And with the time I will provide you, I am sure you will find in your heart the love for me again. Although I doubt that any of us could lose it in such a short time."

You shiver at his certainty and his dark gaze. However, it is not a thrill of fear but of excitement... and you are not surprised that this was his plan B. If you were him, you would do the same.

You signed a pact with him on the first night you spent together. There was no turning back from then on. You were supposed to be together. As absurd as it may sound. Princess of Ravka and the Black Heretic. Otkazat'sya and Grisha. Monsters on Ravka's throne. But only you would be able to restore balance without causing a civil war.

You might not trust each other, be suspicious of each other, or disagree with the decisions you made, but you knew that you both had Ravka's best interests in mind. No matter who else gets hurt, that was how the word worked: you were either a martyred saint or a selfish sinner. And you weren't going to suffer for the sake of anything else but your country. And Aleksander was fed up with his people suffering for who they were, simply for being.

Together, you could do great things.

"Tomorrow is the reading of my damned father's will. His last will is about to include who he wanted on the throne. We have enough time to…"

"I've already taken care of it. You will be a beautiful, wise and cruel tsaritsa." He cuts you off before you can finish your thought, and you smile. One mind. You've always acted like this... but only if you didn't hide anything from each other.

"I will have competition, with such a tsar at my side." you say, and finally allow yourself to lean in and kiss him. His mouth is a little chapped, but you don't mind when all you can focus on is the warmth that engulfs you in his arms again and the pleasant tingling that spreads from your lips throughout your body as he groans in pleasure. You pull away from him just as he wants to deepen the kiss. You tease him a little, and you reach out to caress the black scars on his face with your fingertips. "If you look at Alina even once, I will gouge out both of your eyes and make sure your little sun never shines again." You whisper, placing small kisses where the scars are most visible.

He doesn't freeze; he doesn't tense up. He just moans quietly at the touch of your lips in the places he hates the most and which you seem to treat with fascination and tenderness.

You were as jealous of him as he was of you. You both would kill anyone who dared to steal the other from you. And you both know it's not the worst thing you are able to do for each other.

"Don't worry… I'll only be able to see you. And how beautiful and breath-taking you will look in the crown and my black colours."

"Black?" you ask, raising an eyebrow at him and pulling away slightly.

"Yes. You're mine. As well as I am yours." he says, picking you up as he walks to your bed.

"I won't wear a kefta. This damn thing is hard to take off," you tell him immediately, at which he laughs, unbuttoning his own.

"We'll see." he replies to you with a mischievous smirk and leans over you, kissing you again.

And later that night, as you lie curled in each other's arms and discuss the plans you have for Ravka in whispers, you know you wouldn't have it any other way. Even if you face more fights and doubts with him. And there is no doubt that you would try to manipulate each other to get what you want—to try and make the other feel guilty just to bring your own plan to life—but neither of you wanted to be left on top of the world utterly alone.

It was too late for you to be strangers to each other again. And since neither of you cared about your reputation, your morals, or who you would become in the eyes of the world, you might as well make them fear you. You will be the most terrifying pair of lovers in history.

And as he fell asleep, you started playing with the ball of light with a small smile on your face, squeezing his hand as an amplifier you needed to strengthen the connection you managed to make with Alina that no one knew about. Well... besides you, only the Durast, who made an engagement ring for the Sun Summoner, knew that you were trying to gain from her the power you needed to be an equal for the sleeping Shadow Summoner wrapped around you.

You would tell him... in time.

First, you had to learn how to use your new powers and make sure the connection between you and Alina would last. However, this required much more drastic measures than putting a collar around her neck or a small ring on her finger.

You press a kiss on his chest and rest your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him. You fall asleep in his arms, wondering how you'll convince him to give you some of his mother's bones... or his own.

After all, Morozova's amplifiers were the strongest.

You will soon see this for yourself when, right after your coronation and marriage, you find out that you were unconsciously carrying one under your heart after this night.

#oneshot #darkling #general kirigan #the darkling #aleksander morozova #aleksander kirigan #aleksander morozova x reader #aleksander morozova x y/n #shadow and bone #the darkling x reader #darkling x reader #the darkling x you #the darkling x y/n #darkling x you #darkling x y/n #general kirigan x reader #general kirigan x you #manipulation #toxic behavior #toxic relationship #toxic love #dark romance #romance #sab fanfiction #aleksander morovoza #nikolai lantsov #kasagia #darkling shadow and bone

[wulfhalls]

once again thinking about paul talking to alia in the beginning; “sister, father is dead. shouldn’t you go back to the stars, be with him. i’m afraid i won’t have enough time to fix things before you’re coming. this world is beyond cruelty.”

i wasn’t expecting such an emotional gut punch right off the bat. denis is out for blood.

the way it not just implies, but confirms paul is doing this for alia. he wants to “fix things” and make the world a better place before she arrives. this dialogue alone adds an extra layer to paul and alia’s dynamic. this along with the dialogue alias has in the vision makes me curious what denis will do with paul and alia in messiah.

whatever it is, i trust he’s going to break our hearts. we’re in the era of tragic siblings so i’m ready for paul and alia to shatter my heart (again)

stop I was licherally about to make this post 😭😭 hive mind REAL! walking in circles in my room like they just want to protect each other!!!! I'm afraid I won't have enough time to fix things before you're coming//don't worry I'm with you I love you. the very first word he says in the film being sister. the very beginning being about them. the emphasis of paul checking in with her every 4.8 minutes in the first half of the film. the significance of seeing her at such crucial parts of his journey the first time in the deep desert (first step towards his fate) the water of life ceremony (last step towards his fate) his most ardent believer!!!!! ur so right the implications for messiah and the exploration of their relationship is so. internally screeching at a frequency only audible to bats until messiah drops <3

#thesihaya #asks #dune #paulalia #paul atreides #alia atreides #technically another post in the tag not by me hashtag winnery

[lathalea]

Wild Strawberries

Moodboard by @linasofia 😍

Fandom: The Hobbit Relationships: Thorin x f!OC Warnings: smut, pure smut, so help me Mahal Rating: E (18+)

Summary: Several years after Erebor is reclaimed, Thorin decides to celebrate his beloved wife's birthday... and is very enthusiastic about it. A/N: This story is a birthday gift for @legolasbadass from Linasofia and yours truly. Once again HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LB! 🎉🎁🎈

You can find this fic on AO3.

Khuzdul: Bunnelê - my treasure of treasures

Leaving the northmost spur of the Lonely Mountain behind him, Thorin entered the forest at its foot. The lush, dark emerald sea of pine trees surrounded him; each of them at least as tall as two grown Men—their rapid growth being the result of the magic the elves of the Woodland Realm bestowed upon this land in exchange for goods only Erebor could provide them with. It was a bright summer day and the sun speckled the undergrowth of the forest with gold, as if someone scattered countless coins across it. A small smile curved up Thorin’s lips at the recollection of that very profitable agreement with the Elves and the role his clever wife played in hammering it out a couple of years ago. Anila… Ah, his sweet Anila and her talent of finding useful information in ancient tomes and musty treaties. Then, her cunning negotiation tactics side-blinded the Sylvan negotiator, driving every single clause home. The precedent she found—dating five hundred years ago—was instrumental in cornering the Elves and making them agree to their conditions. There was nothing better than the taste of flawless victory… especially if followed by a private but intense celebration that took place in his marital bed. 

Taking in a deep breath, Thorin allowed himself to close his eyes and feel the tension leave his body. Being the king of a prosperous Dwarvish kingdom was a great privilege, but also a sizable burden; one that could have felt almost unbearable at times—if not for the assistance of his royal consort. Thank Mahal for the ancient tradition that required the king to take a wife. At first, this was to be an arranged marriage but one day spent in Anila’s company when they met for the first time, a year after Erebor was reclaimed, was enough for Thorin to know this would be an union of both hearts and minds.

Today was a special day: his wife’s birthday. Thorin’s most trusted companions and aides were working deep in the mountain, at the shore of the underground lake, preparing the celebrations for the evening: there were hundreds of candles to be lit and put onto minuscule boats that would float on the lake; countless flowers to decorate the caverns; dozens of dishes to be served, music and dances to be planned, and many other surprise attractions to be planned. Thorin’s task was to divert Anila’s attention until it was time for the celebrations—and diverting his lovely wife’s attention happened to be one of his favourite pastimes.

And so he found himself on the forest path, with a full picnic basket in his hand, on his way to Anila’s favourite hideout. From time to time, she would disappear with a thick roll of parchments and a quill and then return hours later with a mysterious smile on her face and ink-stained fingers. Thorin would take her hand into his, place an ardent kiss over her knuckles and ask what she had been up to. The smile on her delicious lips would widen, she would hide that roll of parchments behind her back, rise up on her tiptoes, peck his cheek, and murmur into his ear, “It is a secret of the state, my king.” The sultry tones in her voice would make his blood sing in his veins—that was a clear invitation to flirt, and with Anila, that game two of them played often ended with their clothes scattered all around, and them panting, their bodies entangled, in the most unusual places of the Mountain.

That was his Anila, an incandescent mix of fire and tenderness.

Today, she mysteriously disappeared before he woke, and now he was finally on her trail. He took a few more steps ahead among the brambles, careful not to make any noise, when he saw a familiar silhouette sitting on a blanket. It was Anila; her back was turned towards him, but he would recognize the dress she wore, one of her favourites, and the silky waves of her beautiful hair everywhere, dark as smoky quartz, the braids that adorned it, and the marriage beads with the sigil of his house he offered her over the marriage anvil on the day of their wedding. Her hair was side-swept to the right, uncovering the column of her neck, and Thorin licked his lips at the sight, wanting to press them against that smooth skin and taste it.

Later, he scolded himself. He was on a mission, after all.

After slowly placing the basket on the ground, he soundlessly kneeled inches behind her. Whatever Anila was doing, she was clearly focused, so much so that she did not notice his approach. Only when his hands covered her eyes from behind, she squeaked in surprise.

“Guess who…” Thorin murmured straight into her ear, his voice low and sensual. He was very much aware of the effect his voice had on her and he was determined to make a good use of it today.

“Thorin…! You scared me!” she chuckled, looking anything but frightened. Anila turned her face back towards him, taking his hands into hers and lowering them onto her lap. He still held her in an embrace and did not plan to let her go.

“Have I?” He lifted his eyebrow in amusement, moving his lips closer to hers. “May I remedy it somehow?”

Anila blinked, her eyes glittering with mirth.

“That would depend on the remedy, my king,” she offered.

He brushed his lips oh-so-lightly against hers. They were as soft as he remembered, and she smelled like those blue flowers he never remembered the name of, so sweet and innocent, like the break of a new day. When she held her breath as their lips joined for a few heartbeats, a sign that he had her full attention, Thorin deepened the kiss with as much tenderness as he could muster, his hand delving into her cascading hair, until he felt her body pressing against him in anticipation for more. A large part of him wanted to continue, coaxed by her dizzying closeness and that little sigh she gave, but he needed to follow his plan. It was his wife’s birthday and this day needed to be perfect—just like her.

He moved back slightly, giving her cheek a slight caress with his fingertips and trying to ignore the wave of arousal he felt looking at her slightly swollen lips, like fresh raspberries, her shining eyes, and her heaving bosom. She wore a green dress, one of her favourites, that happened to be one of his favourite garments of hers as well due to a generously revealing neckline. Mahal, this plan of his was more difficult to carry out than he thought. He was supposed to be the one offering distraction, not the other way around.

“I brought the remedy with me, my queen,” he hummed, placing the heavy basket between them and sitting down beside it. It contained the best delicacies the royal kitchens had to offer.

“A lunch?” she peeked under the colourfully embroidered piece of cloth that covered the basket. “It smells lovely.”

“I cannot allow my wife to starve, can I?” Thorin replied, taking in the way she looked at that moment—with a playful smile and golden specks of sun kissing her face, one of them dancing at the tip of her nose. He wondered whether his plan of having a romantic midday meal with his wife would be ruined if he was to kiss that very spot now.

“You are a very attentive husband. Let us eat, then!” Anila decided, putting away a stack of parchments from her lap to the side. Her fingers were stained with ink.

“May I ask what you were working on?” Thorin said, taking out all kinds of food from the basket. Freshly baked bread, three kinds of cheese straight from Dale, white radishes, a jar of honey, hazelnuts and a bottle of good wine from his private cellar.

“You may,” Anila reached for the bread. “But I will not tell you. Not yet, at least. It is not yet finished.”

“So it is as I feared. You are writing a memoir of our scandalous marriage,” Thorin crunched on a radish with gusto.

He adored making her laugh and the way her laughter found its way to her eyes.

“I doubt Erebor is ready for such a read,” she uttered between giggles. “Besides, technically speaking, the events pertaining to our marriage are a state secret and therefore cannot be made public.”

“Perhaps it is for the best. I do not think I would be happy if our whole kingdom would know of my wife’s talents,” he cast her a meaningful glance. “I would rather keep to myself the things you can do with your… ouch!”

A piece of bread hit him right in the middle of his chest as Anila cleared her throat loudly.

“... brilliant mind. I meant your brilliant mind!” Thorin explained, trying to make his words sound as sincere as he could.

“Truly? Is that what you are thinking about at this very moment?” she teased.

“What else? I am still in awe about the way you handled those envoys from Minas Tirith,” Thorin hoped he looked like an embodiment of innocence at the moment.

“Oh? Remind me?” Anila tilted her head and gracefully licked her honey-covered fingers. It made Thorin swallow hard. That vixen. She knew very well what she was doing to him, but he was going to be strong and so he continued this charade.

“That expression of shock on their faces when they understood they would be discussing matters of state with a woman! And the realisation that you completely outwitted them!” Thorin could not help himself but chuckle at the memory.

“Ah yes, I seem to remember something along these lines,” she admitted, lazily taking another bite of bread and looking into his eyes. A drop of honey landed on her shapely bosom, making Thorin lick his lips as it glistened in the sun.

“And so you should, bunnelê. You used their greatest weakness against them marvellously. I will never understand why the People of Men underestimate their women so,” he reached out to take her hand and placed a kiss on it. Not over the knuckles, oh no, his lips found the centre of her palm and pressed against her skin. She smelled like flowers in bloom and tasted like honey. Despite the food they ate, his hunger was far from satiated.

“Cultural differences, my love,” Anila replied, cupping his bearded jaw before freeing her hand from his. He closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of her fingers brushing against his beard. “One of our greatest assets when dealing with Men.”

“Exactly as I said, brilliant mind,” he gave her a playful smirk that coaxed a silvery burst of laughter from Anila.

This atmosphere—and their mutual teasing—reigned throughout the whole meal, accompanied by the twittering of the forest birds and gentle rustling of trees. You are a lucky Dwarf, thought Thorin, enjoying the feeling of content, laying on his side, his body weight resting on his elbow as he admired the sight in front of him. A beautiful day spent with a companion who is not only beautiful but also smart… to the point of putting your willpower to a test with her merciless teasing. And she happens to be your wife. Just look at her, the way the summer breeze plays with her hair, the way she takes a sip of wine, her sensual lips wrapping over the edge of her cup, or the way her fingers seem to dance in the air as she explains something about that newest decree on mining safety. And the way she speaks your name, with so much feeling and softness in her eyes. Is she not perfect? The true queen of your heart?

Thorin would never put these thoughts into words, of course. His wife would surely think him ridiculously mawkish and overly sentimental. The king of the Khazad of the Lonely Mountain should be anything but ridiculous. The best course of action was to keep such maudlin thoughts to himself.

“I think a dessert is in order,” he decided after a few more moments of his reverie.

“A dessert? I feel so full, I do not think I can eat even a bit more,” Anila sighed.

Thorin simply said, “Wild strawberries.”

“What?” she gasped.

He placed a small woven basket in front of her, its contents covered with peppermint leaves.

“How…? This forest is too young for wild strawberries…” she whispered to herself, removing the leaves and seeing small, oblong ruby-red shapes laid out in layers. “They smell delicious. It has to be magic!”

“Try one and see for yourself,” Thorin gave her a triumphant smile. Surprising his wife was something he never had enough of. Perhaps it was also partially because of the enthusiastic way she showed their gratitude, but even a king could be self-indulgent from time to time, he decided.

“A rider from the Woodland Realm brought them at the break of dawn,” he divulged his secret, admiring the way his wife put one of the berries into her mouth. She closed her eyes and hummed approvingly.

“You asked King Thranduil for a handful of the first wild strawberries of the season?” she then asked.

“Aye.”

“And he agreed?”

“Aye.”

“And sent a messenger to you in the middle of the night?”

“As you can see,” he pointed at the berries in front of them.

“Are you truly telling me you had a peaceful conversation with Thranduil during which you agreed on something? Without shouting and cursing each other’s ancestors five generations back? I think I will go with the ‘magic’ explanation,” Anila shook her head, but Thorin noticed the sparks of laughter in her eyes.

“I did not say there was no shouting involved,” he humoured her.

“If you say so,” she chuckled and took another berry. “Mmmm… They are very sweet. Have you tasted them yet?”

Thorin shook his head.

Without a word, she put the berry into his mouth and let him close his lips over her lingering fingers a moment before she retreated them.

“Very sweet indeed,” he admitted, still feeling her caress against his skin. “Just like you.”

Now it was his turn to take a berry and offer it to Anila. Her lips opened a bit and she gently took it between her lips, the tip of her tongue brushing against his fingertips. A wave of heat passed through him, a multitude of thoughts flooded his mind, but not a single one of them was mawkish.

Before he had a chance to react, she put another berry into his mouth and sealed it with hers. A low purr escaped him when their lips met, her kiss even sweeter than the fruit, and he tasted her to his heart’s content. There was tenderness and gentleness in that kiss, but the song of her supple lips dancing against his spoke of fire kindling inside her—and in his mind, Thorin agreed that it was time for another kind of distraction. He covered her cheeks with a myriad of feather-light kisses, whispering words of adoration into her ear as her fingers ran through his hair, caressing his scalp, eliciting a groan of pleasure out of him. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss, revelling in the way she responded to him, their bodies pressed against each other, their lips on fire. Then his lips traced a smooth trail along the line of her jaw, and found the way to her neck. Each of his kisses aimed at claiming her skin, every single inch of it. She tilted her head back invitingly and he continued his explorations, his lips finding the sensitive spot below her ear, and then adorning that place at the juncture of her neck and shoulder with kisses, precisely the way she liked it. When she rewarded him with a moan, he felt her body tremble in anticipation. Thorin was still hungry, hungry for her, even hungrier than before, and he refused to restrict himself any longer. Not on a day like this. 

He lay her on the blanket, her eyes shining, her cheeks slightly flushed, the round peaks of her breasts rising and falling, her hair scattered around her head, glowing in the sun like a halo or richly veined marble, and he found himself in need of stealing yet another kiss.

“Anila,” he murmured, “you are breathtaking.”

She did not reply—busy with stealing a kiss from him this time and wrapping her arms around his neck—while his hand travelled down until he felt that round, supple softness under his palm and the warmth that seeped through the thin fabric of her gown. He played with the idea of simply ripping her bodice—her whole gown—apart and feasting on her naked body until dusk and beyond… and then wrapping her in his cloak and smuggling her back into the mountain for a long and eventful bath, the birthday celebrations be damned, but this tempting plan had to wait. Instead, he gave her breast a gentle squeeze and proceeded to undo the front of her bodice while his lips slipped down her neck and found the sweet spot on her left breast that tasted like honey.

“The High Council…” Anila gasped as his tongue swirled over her skin and then his lips closed over the spot again. “That meeting tomorrow… They will be scandalized when they see that hickey, my love…”

“We both know they will not say a word about it,” he chuckled. “Just as it happened last month, remember?”

“I forget what a clever strategist you are. Yes, I remember, Master Finulv was speechless, Balin pretended not to notice anything, and you could barely keep awake during that council meeting. That high collar doublet suited you very well, by the way,” she admitted, helping herself to the buttons of his tunic.

“It was my attempt at covering the proof of my wife’s fiery temperament,” he smirked, observing Anila’s nimble fingers at work. “I do not think I was successful. Master Bragi did not dare to lift his gaze from his notes even once.”

His wife’s only response was a chuckle just before she covered his lips with hers.

Among the kisses and caresses generously bestowed upon each other, among their whispers and sighs, they eagerly shed most of their clothes. Thorin gave out a satisfied hum, admiring Anila’s sun-speckled skin, the alluring curves of her body glowing as if imbued with the light of thousands of Ereborean diamonds. He was certain there were words that could describe this vision of ethereal beauty before him, but he could not find any. 

“My king seems to be lost in thoughts,” he heard her say playfully. “Allow me to help you.”

Anila lowered herself in front of him and her hands started roaming his body, releasing him from his trousers. Her kisses burning a bold path on his lower abdomen, and he found himself unable to take his eyes off her; of her nimble fingers wrapping around his already hardened manhood; of her hair like silk between his fingers, of her lovely lips that closed over his tip, of her sultry gaze, of the soft heat he was delving into, of her palm that…

“Anila… Mahal…” His wife knew him so well and she knew exactly what would please him, but today was not about him. “Allow me to take care of you first.”

“I was under the impression that you were in the mood for dessert,” she looked up at him innocently, licking her lips. Vixen. Merciless vixen. And he wanted more of her.

“Oh yes, I do,” he smiled, moving towards her.

“A dessert…” she gave out a chuckle when his lips greedily closed over her nipple, lavishing it with attention. Between the gentle nibbles and soft kisses scattered over her rosy peaks, among her sighs and his praising murmurs, his hands painted devout patterns along her body, in an act of physical worship. Thorin did not wish to stop; he craved to cover all off her body with his kisses, to bedeck it with his caresses, to offer his queen endless ecstasy. He wanted to offer her as much pleasure as he could and revel in her rapture. Soon she was stretched beneath him, pleading for more, her fingers entangled with his hair as his tongue drew spirals around her navel, his lips covered the softness of her lower belly, his hands caressed the roundness of her hips.

When his kisses finally moved to her thighs, and his hot breath skimmed the mound between them, Anila whispered, “Have mercy...”

“What do you wish for, my queen?” He lifted his gaze to her face, her eyes hooded with pleasure, her lips slightly parted, her breathing fast, her fingers playing with her nipple. What a beguiling view it was.

“I want you to please me, Thorin,” she whispered, parting her legs slightly. This was the only invitation he needed.

“Your word is my command,” he replied. Settling himself between her legs, he cupped her bottom, enjoying its round firmness. It fit perfectly in his large hands and he lifted her slightly. Anila moaned in delight when he eagerly buried his mouth between her thighs, his beard brushing against them. She writhed beneath him as he showered her most intimate places with kisses and caresses that brought her the most pleasure. His tongue explored the folds of her womanhood. The taste of her arousal made him even harder than before, made him dizzy with desire for her, but that had to wait. Now he was intent on pleasing her this way and so his lips found the most sensitive point on her body, tenderly tugging on the silky bud, and then started sucking on it. He heard her whimpers, her incoherent mewling spurring him on, and he continued his ministrations, pleasing his queen. 

He gripped her thighs firmly when his tongue sank rhythmically into her, evoking waves of elation, one after another, each of them stronger than the previous one. Thorin recognized the signs all too well, and he drove her further and further, among the heights of pleasure, bringing her closer towards the very peak of ecstasy with every caress. Purring into her flesh, he caressed her swollen nub with his thumb, feeling how she arched against him as waves of pleasure sent tremors of ecstasy through her body, and he relentlessly kept on taking her even higher until her blissful moans and praises echoed through the forest. He stopped only after Anila went completely limp beneath him, one of her hands letting go of the fistful of the blanket. 

Thorin moved up towards her, pressing his lips to her shoulder, and then brushing a stray lock of hair away from her face. Her eyes were shut, her face flushed, her long eyelashes casting small shadows on her cheeks, beads of sweat covering her forehead. His caress caused a small smile to bloom on her lips, but her eyelids remained closed.

“Is my queen pleased?”

“A little bit…” she muttered, smiling still. “But I wouldn’t mind a second… no, that would be a third course.”

“Insatiable woman,” he whispered teasingly, kissing her collarbone. His fingers busied themselves in lining out the shapes of her breasts and unhurriedly following the curves of her ribs. Then his tongue joined in, exploring new, exciting paths on her body, each of them punctuated by her moan. Mahal was a great architect indeed, creating such wonders as this woman beside him. Compared with the elegant lines of her body, he felt like a block of unhewn stone; and yet when she lay so close against him, it felt as if they were made from the same piece of rock. Perhaps the Creator put all of his energy into making Thorin’s life companion perfect and decided it was enough. In fact, she was more than he could ever hope for. Absent-mindedly, he took Anila’s hand into his and placed a tender kiss onto her wrist.

Anila gave out a content sigh and opened her eyes, oblivious to his thoughts.

“Insatiable? It is because you have spoiled me rotten,” she stated. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, coaxing him closer to her, and when she closed the distance between their lips, he hummed approvingly. A new fire woke in her and there was hunger in her kiss, the same hunger that had been wreaking havoc through his body since the moment he saw her alone in this place. Her hip brushed against his erect member and he let out a low growl-like moan. Patience was not one of his virtues.

Anila found his hand and placed it over her breasts.

“Make love to me, Thorin,” the words were simple, but the timbre of her voice brought a much deeper meaning with them. And the desire in her eyes met with tenderness in her gaze.

“My queen,” he murmured, offering her an affectionate kiss, the softness of her lips giving him a promise he was eager to see fulfilled.

His kisses were careful, measured, and yet thorough, each of them aiming at telling her things he was unable to say with words. One of his hands caressed her body, eliciting sweet little sighs from her, until it found the secret trail that led his fingers to the treasure she hid between her legs. The moans that filled his ears in response to his feather-light caresses sounded like music.

“Is this to your liking, my queen?” he asked while his fingers explored her boldly, dancing in circles around all her sensitive spots and enticing even more moans from her. This, combined with feeling how aroused she still was, caused his manhood to throb even more in anticipation. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself.

“You know it is very much to my liking,” she admitted, bestowing a smile upon him. “But I need more.”

Thorin could not stop himself any longer. Taking his manhood in his hand, he growled with arousal, feeling her wetness against him. Anila tilted her hips, offering herself to him and he cast her a satisfied look, devouring her with his gaze. It was not long before he pressed his tip to the heat of her core. An unhurried thrust of his hips brought him home, his torments rewarded at last. He lowered himself over her and repeated the movement, studying her face as she bit her teeth into her lower lip.

“Yes, Thorin, more,” she whispered, taking deep breaths. 

As he covered her body with his, Anila seemed so small under him, almost fragile, and yet she was perfect. He knew he needed to be gentle with her at first, and he did that gladly, anticipating the bliss that awaited them both. He could feel how snug she was around him, how an occasional tremble of pleasure came from deep within her as he carefully moved another inch forward.

As her body accommodated to his hardness, he gave another slow thrust, filling her completely. Her breath hitched and she welcomed him with a small cry of pleasure.

“My lovely, lovely Anila,” Thorin whispered, unmoving, his lips brushing against her forehead, his thumb running across her cheek. He knew his size was a challenge for her, but every single time she took him in with passionate eagerness that multiplied his arousal. “We fit so well together, do we not?”

“We do,” her melodic, dreamy voice reached him, her breath wafting against his sensitive earlobe. “I don’t think I will be able to let you go.”

With these teasing words, she wrapped her legs around him, lifting her hips slightly. That made him burrow himself even deeper into the dewy paradise of her womanhood.

“Then don’t,” he rasped out. “We can stay like this for as long as you like. Only say a word, my queen.”

“Then take all the time in the world with me,” she decided.

And so he did. With his movements slow and measured, his eyes remained on her face, revelling in the growing signs of ecstasy he noticed. Anila, his wife, his queen, deserved all he could give her—and more. Her first (or rather third) peak of ecstasy came soon, just after he changed the pace, murmuring seductive promises into her ear. Her lengthy moan rang out in the air as her body trembled with ecstasy. It took all of his resolve not to follow her over the edge at that very moment, but Thorin denied himself that pleasure. He was not finished with her, there was more he wanted to give. He paused, cradling her face in his hands, placing a tender kiss on her burning hot lips, waiting for her to recover, but Anila’s affectionate gaze once again rested on him as she asked for more.

Soon he found himself finding the perfect rhythm, sinking inside her for what seemed forever. As he drowned in Anila’s eyes, their moans intertwined, celebrating the union of their bodies. They were drifting away together on the sea of their shared passion. Every thrust was a promise of endless joy Thorin would offer her, every caress was imbued with his adoration, echoed by his whispers until they came together as one. She clung to him, responding to his every move, her nails sinking in his back, driving him forward, demanding more, and he gave it to her in a series of rapid thrusts, the waves of their bliss growing higher to finally wash over them in pure rapture.

***

“Happy birthday, sweet Anila,” he murmured as he rolled on his back, his arm wrapped around her, but she only hummed something incoherent in response and cuddled up closer to him under the clear blue sky above.

They remained in a sweet, languid embrace for an eternity—or perhaps minutes—Anila’s head resting on Thorin’s chest, her arm limp across his stomach, her hair scattered across his body, his nose full of her flowery scent. Their breaths evened out and the only sounds around them came from the birds in the trees and he found himself drifting off to sleep.

“Thorin…” Anila breathed into his skin after a longer while. 

“Hmmm?” He opened one eye reluctantly.

“You are as wild as these berries,” she pointed towards the forgotten fruits, now scattered among the grass.

“Am I?” He hummed into her hair.

“I think I will have to personally thank King Thranduil for your fervour,” she replied with a smirk.

“Don’t you dare, wife… unless you’d like to be spanked,” Thorin protested.

She chuckled and he felt her hand travelling down his abdomen, “Is that a promise, my king?”

“Insatiable woman,” he managed to say before her lips stopped him from talking for a very long time. For perhaps all the time in the world.

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[ponder-the-orb]

Ardently

Pairing: Fem Tav/Gale

Tags: 18+, Hurt/Comfort, smut and angst, Act 2 romance scene

Word count: 4.7K

Summary:

When the dust of his sacrifice has long since cooled and tales of this adventure are strummed by the city’s bards, Gale cares not if his involvement boils down to one line. The wizard that made his mistakes have meaning. It’s her version of the story that matters. The one she’ll keep to herself. The one that years in the future, she may find herself thinking of on quieter nights. That amongst the blood and steel and dirt, she’ll remember softer lips, careful hands, the shape of fireside stories told with words long since forgotten. And hopefully, when those memories flicker just right, that she was loved desperately and completely.

Even if the face of the man who’d said it has been worn away.

♥・。.。*♥*。.。·*♥*·。.。*♥*·。.。*♥*。.。·*♥

Can you truly fit a lifetime of love into just one night?

♥・。.。*♥*。.。·*♥*·。.。*♥*·。.。*♥*。.。·*♥

Read on AO3 or below.

“I’m no Goddess.”

“Yes you are. Trust me, I would know.”

There’s a small cluster of freckles that trail from behind Tav’s ear and down the hollow of her throat. Gale traces each one with his finger, following the shift of her body as she turns into him. He replaces his finger with his mouth, brushing back and forth to the open fastening of her collar until her neck flushes a darker pink. 

Her answering breath kisses against his ear, her fingers pulling his hair just hard enough that he sees flashes of gold behind his eyelids.

Never has he been more grateful that the summoned bed they’re tangled in doesn’t need concentration to maintain. It’s a small gesture on his part- something to anchor them to a fleeting sense of normality amongst the chill of the shadow curse. If he keeps his eyes to her face and his hands cupped to her skin, they can forget the claws of the world beyond and just be. 

She pulls his mouth back to hers and his tongue brushes the seam of her lips. There’s a lingering note of something rich there- a glass of raided wine or brandy perhaps. It’s an unexpected detail, one he’d have missed had they indulged in his original plan for the night. He’d been more than ready to make love to her amongst the breath of the stars, manipulate the fabric of reality around them and wring pleasures from her until their very souls were sated. And yet she’d simply taken his hand, looked at him with a feeling that almost felt too heavy for his shoulders and said that she wanted him as he is. 

And if there’s one thing Gale is, it’s thorough. 

He drags her clothed thigh to his hip and presses her harder into the mattress. 

If he can’t please her with his magic then he can damn well do it with his body- loving her in every way they can both imagine until she’s flushed and perfectly spent in his arms. He’d thought about it enough anyway, more and more with each passing day until he’d felt less wizard and more besotted school boy. 

It’s curious, he’d thought at first, how memories of his Goddess, so heavy and cold in their intensity could be eclipsed by such achingly mortal desires. The vision of Tav’s kiss in the weave had seared itself so thoroughly into his brain that he could scarcely watch her speak without wondering about the taste of her lips.   

And on hotter nights, the taste of her body as well.

“Wait- the poster curtains,” she gasps as his hand wanders under her shirt. When his lips don’t leave hers, she pulls him back and gestures to the open fields around them.

Ah. Privacy. Something he’d been far too pleasantly distracted to remember. He quickly turns around and waves them shut, his summoned aurora disappearing behind the thick drapes.

 As do his words when he faces her again.

Tav sits back against the cushions. She’s shadowed in the dimmer light but quite clearly completely naked.

The question of how she was able to do that dies on his tongue as he takes her in. He’d witnessed stars crash down like diamonds in the astral sea and magic born anew in the heart of Elysium and yet he can’t fathom a single sight that has left him quite so breathless as the woman smiling in front of him.

She chuckles at his silence and crawls forward, caressing the side of his face. “Ah so this is what you look like tongue-tied.” Her other hand slowly pulls the fastening of his shirt open until her thumb rests over the orb. “I think I like that.” 

His breath catches as she continues to stroke the spot. There’s a familiar fondness blooming over her face, something he’d only glimpsed during whispered conversations when the wine made her eyes shine. 

He wraps his arms around her middle and tips them both back against the sheets. He captures her mouth again, letting his hands find their own path across the miles of bare skin under him. He bites a groan into her shoulder as her hips rise to meet his, soft and blissfully warm.

“I wanted to do that,” he mumbles into her neck.

Her answering laugh rumbles through both their chests. “Well, I can put my clothes back on if you’d prefer.” 

Her tease melts into a gasp as he kisses her ear. 

“Don’t you dare.”

He sits back so she can tug off his shirt. He draws focus as she does, taking in every small detail: the scent of her hair, the sway of her hip, that previously hidden trail of freckles now spilling in a constellation over her breasts. He savours each one, pressing them like flowers between the pages of his memory. 

Tav takes her time undressing him, kissing every new inch of skin revealed. He swallows a string of rather unbecoming words as she mouths against his underwear, kissing and sucking in a devastating pattern. His eyes slam closed as she pulls them off and her lips close over him. He’s already fully, desperately hard and those sinfully wet noises are not helping his already precarious self control. Her tongue traces the full length of him and his hand flies to the back of her neck.

Gods, the verses he could write about her mouth if she’d let him.

A cooler air hits him as he suddenly feels her jerk back. He shifts onto his elbows and sees her sitting frozen by his legs. Her whole body is bathed in brilliant blue light, the orb in his chest now glowing under her wide-eyed gaze. It takes him a moment to realise she’s only seen it this way a few times before- either when he was doubled over in pain or as it greedily devoured the magical items they could part with. 

“Don’t worry. It’s safe, I swear to you,” he says, taking her hand and pressing it over the orb. It pulses under her palm, perfectly in time with his heart. “Before, excitement was something I had to avoid as such feelings made it hard to keep control. But now it’s not going to do anything unless I make it so.”

Her face relaxes as she looks from his chest to his face. Her lips twist into a gentle smirk. “So I suppose this is why my advances at the party were not getting me anywhere?” 

He laughs softly at the memory. “They were more than welcome. To know that what you pictured in the weave was no mere fantasy, but something you wanted- it was everything to me.” He cups his hand over hers, the orb still shining brightly under their touch. “Trust me when I say that I really considered testing the bounds of my self-control that night.”

He’d sat by his tent and thought in circles for hours about whether one night with her was worth disintegrating an area the size of a city. And as their journey went on, it became harder for the answer to that question to be anything other than a thunderous yes.

“Were you worried that I might seek different company?”

He pulls her a little closer at the question, pressing his forehead to hers. “Perhaps a little, but I couldn’t have really blamed you. With such danger around every corner, taking comfort with another in a moment of calm is… understandable.” His words are a half truth at best. He vividly remembers the looks she’d gotten from their other companions that night, ranging from sweet adoration to a much darker want. But despite it all, she simply made her rounds and bid each a brief goodnight. 

Even though he lay in his bedroll alone and aching that night- there was a new spark in his chest. That despite everything, she might be willing to wait for him.

“Do you know what I did that night instead?” she asks. She wraps her arms around his neck as he shakes his head and moves onto his lap. He audibly swallows as she shifts her heat against him. “When the party was finally quiet and everyone else had taken to their bedrolls, I let my mind wander anywhere it wanted. And as the night crept on, I couldn’t stop thinking. Thinking about you.”

His hands tighten against her thighs as her lips touch his chin.

 “What did you think about?” he whispers. There’s no hiding the want dripping from each of his words, the orb flaring brighter with anticipation. 

“A few things. Your face, the way your mouth quirks just so when you’re casting. But mostly your hands.” She presses a kiss to his fingers, her eyes alight. “I’ve seen what you can do with them. You’re always so very… precise. So when the fire burned low, I thought about what those hands might feel like touching me. But sadly I don’t think my own fingers could do them justice.” She leans back and he watches rapt as her wicked mouth continues in a low whisper. “So this won’t be the first time I find pleasure with your name on my lips.”

She kisses his cheek as she finishes. It’s the exact moment Gale feels his patience snap in two. 

He grabs both of her wrists and pushes her onto the mattress.

“You need not wonder any more,” he mouths against her neck, ready to show her just how precise his hands can be. 

He kisses down to her breasts. Her heart pounds against his cheek as he covers one with his mouth, licking over her nipple until it hardens under his touch. He lightly massages the other, savouring each little gasp and whimper that spills from her lips.

She cries out louder as he tugs her nipple between his teeth. He does it again, slipping his leg between hers and parting her thighs with his knee. There’s no hesitation in his touch as he maps a new path, softly caressing her stomach before dipping lower.  

Her breath catches as he brushes her folds, so he presses harder- spreading the wetness building against the pad of his thumb. He circles her clit slowly at first, lifting his mouth so he can watch her face twist and bloom with want. 

He kisses the tip of her breast, then her lips. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, skirting his mouth down with clear intent. 

She cries out again as he strokes the length of her with his tongue before pausing to press a gentle kiss to her clit.

Her hands find in his hair as he circles the spot.

“Gods.Yes. Right there.”

He takes his time tasting her. Coaxing the weave is a specific art, one that requires such careful use of the tongue. It’s a skill he’s built over many years and one he can use right now- pulling pleasures grander than any magic from her body. He adjusts his technique as he goes, using the pitch of her cries to guide him.

His thumb takes over against her clit as he slowly presses his tongue inside her.

Her thighs clamp down against his head as she comes. He continues to thrust in and out as she rides her high, leaving him wondering how a litany of curses can sound so sweet coming from her lips. 

He’s back on her before she has time to catch her breath, kissing her swollen clit again and drawing it between his lips. He presses a hand just under her navel, finding a new rhythm with his mouth as she writhes under him. 

He isn’t sure how long he stays there, licking and massaging, feeling her finish again and again and again until tears well like burning stars in her eyes.

He could stop now. The ache in his jaw and shoulders are certainly begging him to. So many others would probably be more than satisfied having felt her come the first couple of times, but he knows he’s not there yet. Not until he’s sure that his name and this night are rooted in her memory as strongly as the magic inside her.

When the dust of his sacrifice has long since cooled and tales of this adventure are strummed by the city’s bards, he cares not if his involvement boils down to one line. The wizard that made his mistakes have meaning. It’s her version of the story that matters. The one she’ll keep to herself. The one that years in the future, she may find herself thinking of on quieter nights. That amongst the blood and steel and dirt, she’ll remember softer lips, careful hands, the shape of fireside stories told with words long since forgotten. And hopefully, when those memories flicker just right, that she was loved desperately and completely.

Even if the face of the man who’d said it has been worn away.

He returns focus between her thighs, licking with renewed vigour until her exhausted pleasure reverberates like a hymn between the sheets.

There’s one more thing he’d like her to remember, something entirely selfish but it would be a lie to say it’s not driving him just as hard right now. In a month or a season or a year when she takes a new lover, there’ll be that brief moment where her mind will wander, wondering if anyone can bring her to the heights that he was able to in a single night. 

She tugs his hair and he finally pulls back from her quivering flesh. He can only imagine his face right now- eyes bright, breaths ragged, chin shining with the evidence of her pleasure. What he’d give for a mirror so he can see himself truly undone for her.

He kisses the inside of her thigh. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Gods no, I -“ her words catch as he sucks the skin just hard enough to leave a mark. “We have all night,” she finally gasps out. 

He rubs the purple spot and climbs over her again. “Yes we do. And I intend to use every moment of it.”

He rolls to the side and pulls her back flat to his chest. He kisses her throat and rubs the planes of her body until she relaxes soft as water against him.

“I’ve got you,” he murmurs as his hands brush over her breasts, cupping them gently. She throws her head back as he rubs his thumb over her nipple and kisses down the curve of her throat. 

His lips stop when they reach a scattering of familiar pin-prick scars. The marks left from Astarion’s bites.

It’s the first time he’s seen them so close and he’s a little surprised at just how many there are. Most are faded, but a few are pinker and clearly still healing. Something grumbles in his throat when he notices a pair closer to her collarbone. They’re raised and swollen, probably less than a day old.

He knows it’s just a means to an end. She’d assured him as such when he’d found her woozily staggering around after the first time. But here, with the taste of her pleasure on his tongue and her skin against his hands, he feels oddly bitter about it.

He covers the marks with his mouth and, in a sudden flush of possessiveness, bites down hard. Her shocked little squeak echoes between the curtains. He immediately lets go, but she grabs his head and pushes his mouth back down before he can even think to apologise. He follows her lead, sucking and nipping his own marks into the skin until he knows a bouquet of purple bruises are going to shine there for everyone to see come morning. 

He smiles at the thought as his palm drifts down to cup her sex.

She bucks against him, moaning as he presses a finger inside her. His breath leaves him in a long sigh as she thrusts down, working herself against his touch. He lets her find her own rhythm, enjoying the tight slick heat as he adds another finger. 

Tav cries out again, one hand cupping the back of his neck, the other flying down to cover his own. He kisses her jaw as she moves faster and gently presses her over-sensitive clit with his thumb.

Her back slams against his chest. Her thrusts are rough and jerky against his fingers, but her answering cry is different. It’s barely audible, but he catches the whisper as it brushes past her lips like a prayer.

“Gale.”

His hand immediately stops. 

He rolls over, removing his hand and settling himself between her thighs in one quick movement.

“Say that again,” he whispers, pressing himself against her heat until she sighs and shivers under him.

Her smile softens. She touches his temple, then his cheek, leaning up to kiss her answer against his mouth. “My Gale.”

Before he can react, she’s hooking her leg to his hip and rolling them over again. She brushes her lips to his forehead as she grips his erection and slowly eases herself onto him.

His hands clamp over her waist and it takes every iron-wrought fibre of his self-control not to finish right then and there. 

Her mouth falls open as she fully seats herself. He can already feel the curve of her lips spilling into his dreams: red and wet and parted with desire. It’s a heady sight.

He heaves himself up as she slowly starts to move, letting his mouth explore every inch of sweat-slick flesh he can find. She shudders harder as he brushes over her pulse, so he does it again, then one more time, groaning as her thrusts become more erratic.

The planes of their bodies glisten with the orb’s light. Gale briefly looks down to watch it brighten between them. It’s both salvation and extinction, the evidence of his own hubris burned like a death warrant in his skin. There hasn’t been a day since his fall where he hasn’t fantasised about clawing it out of his chest. 

He’s finding it hard to hold onto that feeling when it’s currently making Tav glow like the divine in his lap.

He closes his eyes and lets himself get lost in the feeling. Her mouth is everywhere, hot against his chest, his jaw, his ear. His fingers dig into her back as she softly bites the lobe.

When he pulls her face back to his, there’s something hanging between her teeth, small and glinting in the light. He stops moving when he realises it’s his earring. 

She doesn’t say anything as he takes it from her, but her eyes waver with uncertainty- waiting for his reaction.

He turns the star between his fingers. It’s slightly tarnished from years of wear and something burns right under the orb as he takes in every tiny scratch and imperfection.

They both know it’s more than just some trinket. It’s the emblem of magic itself, his everything, the person he’d been told he was ever since he’d been able to use his hands. And it’s Her. 

Mystra.

His chest burns harder.

Every night since she’d cast him out he’d thought of her. Her love. Her anger. How she’s still so intimately intertwined with his power just as the night and stars above. Once upon a time that thought had brought him some sense of comfort, that with every spell that crackled between his hands her eye may have been upon him, perhaps just long enough to feel his remorse. 

A year of silence that earned him. A year of stony unwavering devotion that he refused to shirk. Nights conjuring her visage, practising his apologies and admonitions, feeling those grey hairs lengthen under his own cold purple light. And when the sun finally warmed his robes again, there was a break in that silence, her final gift wrapped in Elminster’s resolute words.

Death. And then perhaps what she’d consider her forgiveness.

Gale drops the earring on the mattress and eases Tav onto her back. Her eyes squeeze shut as he thrusts harder, chasing that burning thread of their joint pleasure. Gone is the finesse of before, replaced with a darker, frantic want to feel her, love her and forget everything beyond the cradle of her arms.

He bites at the fruit of her lips, tastes her desire, then kisses that swollen curve as if he can press a lifetime of adoration into her skin.

She turns her face into the pillows but he guides it back to him, gently holding it there so he can watch every flicker of bliss as it rolls in waves over her. It’s a shameful want, but he needs to remember, to hold on, so that when this is done and she’s too far away to watch him burn, he can let the last thing he sees be someone who’d loved the whole of him. 

And perhaps, if he can cling onto those infinitely precious parts of her, something can bring them back together one day. Maybe after the universe has long since dimmed. 

“Wait- please.”

Her breathy cry pulls him from the thought. Her eyes are wide underneath his, her mouth half open with an unfinished thought. He slows his hips as she lifts herself and strokes the side of his face.

“I'm not letting you go, Gale. Not now. Not ever.”  

Her words are a whisper but their strength is clear, as steadfast as cliffs to the wind. He feels each one take root inside him. The promise of love, of someone so clearly ready to fight fate and the Gods for him- it’s so new and strangely wonderful. 

It threatens to break his heart all over again.

He takes her fingers and kisses each one before laying her down again.

“I know.”

She comes one last time with his name on her lips. He drinks the gasp from her, collapsing into her neck as he follows over the edge. She holds him through his final thrusts, humming softly against his hairline.

“That’s it. Let me feel you.”

He basks in the boneless feeling for a moment before pulling out, murmuring a spell so the mess between them disappears.

She chuckles and pulls him more comfortably onto her chest. The slowing beat of her heart drums a soft rhythm against his ear. He listens a while as he catches his breath, trying to centre his thoughts.

There’s a lot he wants to say, too much, speeches he’d written then rewritten in his mind as he’d sat waiting for her earlier. 

She runs a hand through his hair and the words catch behind his lips. It’s an unhurried movement, her fingers gently raking from the top of his head to the nape of his neck and then back. When her thumb caresses the tip of his ear, something hot forms in his throat.

He can’t recall the last time he’d been touched with such casual tenderness. Certainly not in Mystra’s embrace. Those arcane pleasures were so abstract and blindingly intense, there was never a moment to simply… feel. 

It’s then he realises: spending so many years making love as the Gods do, he’s half sure he’s forgotten what it feels like to actually be held. 

When he looks up, her eyes are trained to the canopy. He taps her collarbone until she blinks.  “What are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing.” Her voice is airy, her gaze still about a thousand realms away.

“That’s rather a lot of nothing that seems to be troubling you.”

She tugs his hair, rolling her eyes. 

He smiles and shifts over her, kissing the annoyance from her mouth until she finally relaxes again.

“Fine,” she murmurs, guiding his cheek back to her chest. “I was just wondering what the chances were that I’d actually end up here. If I’d stayed home that day or run faster or  hidden- I’d probably still be in Baldur’s Gate right now, none the wiser to any of this.” She sighs and starts stroking his hair again. “I’ve seen more of Faerûn than most people. I don’t think I’d even know this curse was basically on my doorstep if I hadn’t been captured.”

Gale nods. “Few have lived to tell the tale I presume. I doubt this is on anyone’s list of holiday destinations.” He brushes the cluster of freckles he found earlier, delighted at the gentle trail of goosebumps that follow. 

“It’s strange. I don’t think I regret it happening though. Not completely,” she continues quietly.

“Given what we’ve just done I can agree with that.”

She tugs his hair again, softer this time. 

“There’s still so much more I want to see,” she says.

“And you will. You don’t need to worry about that.” ‘Let me worry about that’ is what he doesn’t say. 

She hums her assent, gaze still lost to the material above. “I’ve never actually set foot in Waterdeep either. Maybe one day.”

His heart squeezes a little at the name. Home.

“You’d need more than a day, trust me. It’s called the City of Splendours for a reason,” he says, picturing that last lazy sunset he’d watched from his balcony. “There are ten-thousand things to see, a lifetime isn’t even enough time to appreciate all it has to offer.”

“Where would I even start?”

“I can always pen you a guide.”

“Or you can just show me.” She catches his eye as he lifts his head. “Not that I’m doubting your illusion didn’t do it justice but it would be nice to see that view properly.”

He tries not to let his smile falter. There’s no cruelty to her words; no hint that she’d forgotten what he’d told her before they’d kissed. He’s chosen his fate and even now she’s fighting him on it, like she has some grand plan up her sleeve stronger than the Netherese inferno waiting to detonate in his chest.

He sighs and holds her tighter. 

It would be a callous thing to argue. She’d wanted to make love in the real world, but between these curtains they can stay wrapped up in a different illusion until morning. They’ll both leave these lands. Alive. Together. 

He presses his lips to her heart. “Of course I will.”

Over the next hours, their conversation is slow and easy. He talks about everything and nothing until he feels her breathing even out and her grip relax against him. 

He should sleep. His body aches in a multitude of different ways but his mind won’t let him. 

One night of passion to sate his love, to give him something to hold onto as he followed Mystra’s command- that was the plan, the only plan he’d thought of. But now, lying in her arms and knowing she isn’t just going to stand back and let him end himself, he can feel that resolve crumbling.

He’d had his moment with her but it’s not enough, not even close. If he’s being honest with himself, he’d known that since he’d watched her walk through the image of his tower. She’d fit so easily, like she was made to be there. His illusions are good but it had set a deeper want inside him, to have her there for real. 

He can see it so clearly now: watching the sun brighten her skin on his balcony, introducing her to Tara properly, making love to her in his own bed-  could it be such a foolish thing to consider? 

His heart pounds harder and he feels his chest tighten again.

The orb is still an ever present danger. Even quelled right now, he knows Elminster’s spell is just a temporary stop- but it’s still time. If they defeat this Heart of Absolute another way, then he could hold on for weeks, maybe even months. It'll be enough to take her home and make some memories outside of this wretched adventure- give her something brighter to think on when she hears his name.

He swallows as he turns the picture over in his mind. He’d incur his Goddess’ ire a second time and potentially damn the world just to stay a little longer on this plane. 

The thought doesn’t taste so sour now- not if it’s with Tav. 

He’s a dead man walking either way. If there’s any chance he can fill those final days with love, no matter how infinitesimally small, he’s going to take it.

He closes his eyes and finally lets sleep take him.

For now his charge changes. For now, he’s choosing to live.

♥・。.。*♥*。.。·*♥*·。.。*♥*·。.。*♥*。.。·*♥

I actually think it makes complete sense for Gale to keep the earring the entire game buuuut I had this image of Tav pulling it off so... here we are.

This can kind of be read as a prequel to my other work: Stay , but isn't necessary reading.

#baldur's gate 3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #bg3 gale #bg3 fic #gale fic #my writing #gale x tav

[factual-fantasy]

26 ASKS!! :DD THANK YALL!! 🎉🎂🎉

@ardent-38 @lime-ether @piperjistic @elegysonnet @storylover2 @forestrests

AAAAAA THANK YALL SO MUCH!! :DDD YALL ARE THE BEST!! :}} 💖💖💖

(Sorry I'm a bit late!)

:DD Thank you!! My favorite might be plain vanilla 😋💖

@unpopularartist14

I have definitely heard of it and seen it around. :0 And I got a good taste of it from SMG4s video on it XDD I've thought about watching it in the past. Though hearing about that widely accepted ship.. Ehhh,, I'm not so sure now.. <XD

@sunshine-vr6

@wdillustration

:DD THANK YOU!! :}}}

@badlyblurry (Post in question)

XDD It really has. The poor guy is so conflicted. This really seems like a romantic moment. But surly she's just excited about her new form and doesn't understand the typical boundaries friends have.

Surly someone as beautiful and desirable as Blue.. wouldn't be interested in a old cookie like him.

..Right??

@jesterpiecethejester

They're still on my blog, I never deleted them or anything. You just gotta go to my #undertale tag and scroll down a bit-

@minnesotamedic186 (Post in question)

AWW!! Its might be a bit out of character for Blue, but its still a cute scene!! :DD

@keakruiser (Sorry for replying a bit late!)

:DDD THANK YOU!! I had some giant cookies and cream cupcakes! 😋😋

Huh, suprising!

....now what does Urchin taste like.. 🍴🍪

@edgywithaheart

Ooooo interesting!! :DD Though I wonder if this would change Barnaby and Howdy at all <XDD

GASP!! Nooo not my boy! He would never do a crime. XD

@jenny-the-fox

XD I think I have a couple of OCs that belong there--

(Post in question)

Oh! Thank you for the info! :DD

@candyglumboy (Post in question)

That could be an interpretation of it yeah :00 but to be totally honest, I haven't thought it all through yet..

The intention behind that comic is its showing that Eddie used to be a human. And now he's.. well. He's Eddie.

The comic was trying to show that there was someone he used to know when he was human. His sister? His mother? Someone.. He knew someone. And now that he's in the neighborhood.. she's gone. What happened to her? Who was she? Why do I miss her so much?.. Why.. am I crying? Why am I shaking?

"..What was I talking about.?"

@astaherussy

EATING THIS SCENARIO LIKE GARLIC BREAD FR!!! AAAAA JUST IMAGINE EVERYONE'S REACTIONS!!

I think the 3 of them are no strangers to bloody scenes, but that wouldn't make seeing their Octokids so hurt any easier.. <:(( Now I'm not much of a writer, and idk if this is the kind of response you were expecting.. but none the less you have inspired me! :}}

I can see them offering their services if needed, but mostly just staying out of Peso's way and letting him do his thing. when everything winds down and they're able to see each other.. it would be tough. :((

Kwazii would be in high spirits as always despite the injuries. He would proudly tell Calico Jack about how he was bravely able to fend off multiple sharks! He expected a lot of enthusiasm from his Grandad.. "..Y-Ye did great Kwazii, ye protected yer crew well. I'm real proud of ya for that.." Instead he got a more.. somber response.

With the time Kwazii has spent with the Octonauts, he's gotten a lot better at reading people. Its not hard to tell when someone is shaken. His ears are pinned back, his tail is puffed up and flicking back and fourth.. its clear that Jack isn't taking this sight well.

Kwazii would probably sit up straighter. "Hey,, Grandad I'm.. I'm alright, ye don't need to worry." He'd gently grab Jacks arm, getting his attention. "I'll be alright, this isn't a big deal! Really, I'm ok! It looks a lot worse than it actually is."

Jack might take a deep breath and nod "..I know. I know you'll be alright, lad.." His ears were still pinned back. Kwazii frowns. "..I'm alright now Grandad. This is small, trust me.." Jack would pause.. but then nod. Seeing Kwazii so beaten is hard for Jack to stomach. But Kwazii is one tough cookie.. Just like him. He knows that things will be ok. Kwazii will be ok.. They're both ok..

~~~

When Marsh came in to see Tweak, he almost lost his composure. He knows Tweak is tough. And she's gotten hurt a lot growin up, this ain't nothin she cant handle. But gosh, this hurts. That's his little girl. It hurts so much to see her like this. She's collapsed in medbay, and has her leg all bound up in a cast.

"Pa! Heh, uh- sorry about all this. You an I were supposed to go out swimmin after that mission. I guess uh.. it'll have to wait.. heh.."

A deep breath, "Now don't chu worry bout none of that," He sat down beside her bed and pat her on the shoulder. "You just put all yer energy into gettin better. Ok? We can always go see the reef another time." His droopy ears and shaky voice wasn't helping his tough façade..

Tweaks pauses for a moment. But then offers her hand to Marsh. He takes it, confused at first.

"..I'm sorry I scared you pa.. I'll be ok.."

...Unable to reply, Marsh just nods. He sighs and wipes his tears away. Gripping Tweaks hand tighter. He sniffles, and just nods..

~~~

Natquik's meeting with Barnacles went a little smoother than the others. He is no stranger to the sight of blood. And knowing that Barnacles is tough as nails, he wasn't too worried about him.. but still. Seeing Barnacles in such a state.. it wasn't easy.

When Natquik came in, he placed a gentle paw on the bears shoulder. "Barnacles, how do you feel? Are your wounds bad..?" Barnacles' voice was gravelly and slow. He had a nasty headache after that facial injury.. "..Oh.. I'll be alright.. its nothing I.. cant recover from.."

Natquik pulls up a stool and sits beside him. "You gave me a big scare, you know. You must not do that to me! No more dangerous missions for you!" He said wagging his finger.

Barnacles chuckled. "That wasn't meant to.. be a dangerous mission. Things just.. got out of hand." Natquik nods. "Yes yes, I can see.." His tone seemed off at the end there..

"..Are you alright, Professor?" It takes Natquik a second to respond.. Seeming to think over his words. "Don't worry for me, Barnacles. I am better now that I have seen you. And you will heal fine, yes? So all is ok." His hesitation wasn't reassuring.. But he knows how Natquik is. So doesn't push it further. "Yes, despite the scene we caused.. most of these injuries are minor. We'll be.. alright." Natquik puts on a smile that cant truly be read. "That is all that matters, my friend."

~~~

ALSO WAAHAGA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD I'm so glad to hear you like my stuff!! And you're interested even when you don't know thE CANON? BESTIE I AM HONORED!! 😭😭💖💖😭💖💖

And of course I would respond! :DD I LOVE receiving comments/interaction with my work. Its the #1 thing I hope my posts receive! Now I cant respond to every single one unfortunately, but I do read them all and respond to as many as I possibly can!! :D I'll take this moment to give a big thank you to all that leave me messages/comments/asks! They're my favorite thing!! 💖💖🥰💖

@couchwow

Thank you! :D Also OOOO CREATRURES! :DDD

@peaspods

I don't have a master post for those, no.. it would take a ton of effort for me to comb through my entire blog to compile it all so I haven't done it..

You can find all/most of that stuff under my #octonauts tag and my #deltarune tag. I hope this helps!

I did have a blue blanket for a time.. though that blanket doesn't actually exist irl-

Also man, that would take me forever to make. Bibi and the other's quilts were really small and easy to work with. I cant imagine all the time it would take for me in this state to make a full human sized quilt-

Plus I would have to draw the quilt with me whenever I draw my sona. Which would suck because then it would take longer for me to draw myself <XDD

XD Thank you!! :D I'm so glad you like them! :}}

WAAAAA THATS SO GOOODD!! 😭😭😭😭

#my response #tw descriptions of blood #tw descriptions of injury #octonauts #welcome home #eddie dear #factual fam #cookie run #cookie run kingdom #cookie run ocs #my ocs

[loveandleases]

(Time for our favorite dilf's Fluff ABC. The previous ABC's can be found here and here. Below the cut~)

A = Admiration - Ardent admires when someone is responsible.

B = Body - He's a fan of the entire body, though if you wanted to know which one he would focus on in the middle of the night, would have to ask the old man.

C = Cuddling - He cuddles Cupid when she allows it. When she doesn't he gets a nice scratch as a reminder. Now with a partner Ardent loves being the big spoon, but he will deny he enjoys cuddling.

D = Dates - He doesn't have that much time to date. When he used to he would always offer to cook for his date, Ardent loves to show off his skill in the kitchen, among other places.

E = Emotions - He likes to pretend to be this big tough guy, but one unanswered call to his niece and the man is sulking for the better part of the hour. Ardent doesn't hold back his thoughts while some may say he's an angry person, in reality he just stopped trying to please other people.

F = Family - Ardent is very close to his parent's, especially his mother. He takes care of the complex just for them, not wanting to accept the payment they send his way. He has a sister, who is the mother to his very loved niece. We also can't forget Cupid.

G = Gifts - He will deny he enjoys recieving gifts, but in actuality when someone thinks enough to give him something he truly cherishes it. For Ardent, he doesn't mind to give gifts. When he gives you homemade food, that's when you know he has a soft spot for you.

H = Holding Hands - He will cling to his partners hand like his life depends on it, not wanting to get seperated. Squeeze as hard as you want, he won't let go. Though if you point out you're holding his hand, he pretends it's as a favor to you, definitely not because he likes it.

I = Injury - Ardent is very calm in a crisis, be that an accident or his sister giving birth. He is focused on the end goal. So if someone is hurt, he will basically be like a mother hen. Ensuring they get an ample amount of rest and relaxation.

J = Jokes - The guy tries he really does, when peope laugh at his "jokes", it's usually when he's serious. His jokes tend to fall flat. Every once in awhile he has a good one.

K = Kisses - Ardent kisses with hunger, full of passion. As if the last of breath in his body belongs to his partner. He can be rough more often than not, but if you're lucky enough he might just surprise you with how tender he can be.

L = Love - He loves many people, Ardent doesn't see the point of hiding emotions. It's not something his parents did and it's not something he does either. He grew up in a home where the phrase I love you was always in use. Be that from his family or friends.

M = Memory - Ardent's favorite memory is seeing his niece for the first time, well that and adopting Cupid. Remembering how small she was when he took Cupid home is one of the highlights of his life. Knowing that he could in fact be so caring for her, even though sometimes Cupid just doesn't have time for that.

N = Nightmare (what is one of their fears?) - Not being able to be a safe space for someone he cares about. He might suffer with hearing other peoples emotions, but Ardent still wants to be trusted by them. To be that shoulder they can lean on.

O = Oddity (what is one quirk they have?) - Many people don't know he's actually greek. That is until he gets angry, then he can't help but curse in his native tongue.

P = Pet Names (what do they like to call you?)- Kitten.

Q = Quality Time (how do they like to spend time with you?) - Ardent would love just hanging out, be that at home or somewhere else. Though he hates when people pay him attention, when it's with you he will deal with it. He would love to just enjoy the night in each others company, with a good book and a nice glass of wine.

R = Rhythm (what song do they hum to themselves, when they think no one is listening.)- Torn to shreds by Deff Lepard.

S = Secrets (how open are they?) - Not very, though that will change over time. But get him in front of his mom, or niece and he is like an open book. The man is putty in their hands.

T = Time (how do they spend their time?) - He spends his time quite divided, be that taking his niece to after school activities, working on things at the complex, trying to get his mother's Manicotti recipe. Ardent can be seen going in and out many times of the day. The question is for who.

U = Upset (how do they act when they're upset?) - It depends on the level of upset. He could simmer in his anger, sulk, or just let it all out.

V = Vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?) - His body, his cat, and his cooking. He will show it all off if given a chance. Ardent works hard to keep in good health, to love Cupid, and to be able to make a good meal.

W = Warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?) - He doesn't like to admit he would fight for anyone. Instead he prefers to pretend to care less. (Such a lie). Ardent would fight for his partner, or for someone he sees is done wrong. He might be an ass, but he refuses to let people be treated as such.

X = X-Ray (how well are they able to read you?) - Ardent can read a shy person very well. Only time will tell how well he pushes MC's.

Y = Yes (how would they propose to you?) - Maybe something silly like having the ring on Cupid's collar for MC to see. Whose to say just yet.

Z = Zen (what makes them feel calm?) - Cupid laying on his chest, or rubbing his back. Just letting him feel his emotions and knowing someone is there for him can make him calm.

#loveandleases #love and leases #ardent #fluff #fluff alphabet #alphabet

[dross-the-fish]

Alice and Edward's friendship is wholesome to me! Can I ask for a drabble where Hyde breaks into her house to come see her?

Here you go. Came out fluffy and kind of angsty. CW: References to an abusive relationship

.....

Alice had been crying into her pillow when she heard the latch to her bedroom window lift. Wiping her reddened eyes, she sat up, unafraid of the intruder for she knew who it must be. Sure, enough a large foot that seemed too long and wide for the short leg it was attached to planted itself on the carpet then ropy arms with hands as disproportionately large and broad as the feet pulled a wiry trunk and shaggy head through the opening.

Edward Hyde, looking like death warmed over and smelling strongly of gin, tobacco and wet asphalt after a rainy London night, grinned at her and plopped next to her on the bed.

“Hello, my dove, how are you holding up?” he chirped, kicking off his shoes and wriggling closer to her.

Alice faltered, unable to manifest the words to tell him how worn thin she was. It had been a hellish day, with Richard playing upon her weaknesses as he always did. Today he’d made her feel small, he’d made her doubt herself like never before. It was so difficult to argue with him when he talked as though his version of reality was a given fact that should be obvious to her.

He was always right.

And she was always stupid, or mad, or hysterical. Whichever suited him when he wanted to win.  

If Richard said up was down, he expected her to believe it and even when she knew up was up and down was down Richard had a way of making her feel as though he knew everything and she knew nothing. Today in the middle of his usual torments Alice had finally broken down and burst into tears. She’d been so upset she had been unable to speak. Disgusted with her Richard had gone out and locked her in her room… because she couldn’t be trusted not to hurt herself or someone else in her state of hysteria. Or so he had told her.

She had been so sure of herself once, so confident, but her parents, Richard, everyone around her, made it so easy to believe that she was incapable of understanding the simplest concepts and over time they had whittled her courage down until it was no bigger than an acorn.

Only Edward ever seemed to believe her anymore. Edward who was mean and coarse and the worst person in the world but also the best, was the only person who didn’t treat her like she was a madwoman.  

When she turned her wet eyes to Edward the smile ran from his face.

“Another one of those days, was it?”

She could only nod. He wiped at her cheeks with the rough heel of his hand, “I’m sorry, Alice. Was it Richard again?”

She gave him a look.

“Right, stupid question, who else would it be,” he grumbled, grinding his teeth as his anger rose.

“I could kill him, you know!” he hissed ardently, “I’d enjoy it! Every second of it! If you’d just let me! Please, Alice, let me kill him!” teeth gashed as the animal within him licked at his ribs, howling to get out.  

She put a hand over his mouth, right over his protruding teeth and shook her head. She didn’t want that.

Edward did not calm, but he did settle, seething quietly, the hiss of air escaping from between his teeth reminding Alice of a boiling kettle. She rubbed her fingers into the fluff of his sideburns, enjoying the texture.

Even if Edward was not calm, he was soothing, in his own way. Feeling a little more grounded Alice found her voice at last.  

“He makes me feel like a child, like I’m helpless and too stupid to understand what’s going on around me. He makes me feel so guilty sometimes just for…for…being!” she said, “I’m all of twenty-seven! He treats me like I’m helpless and seven years old again, he accuses me so often of being foolish and out of my mind until I nearly start to believe it must be so.”

“It’s a load of bunk he’s feeding you! You know you aren’t any of those things. You know,” Edward insisted, grabbing her chin and making her look at him, a hint of his brogue slipping out in his agitation, “Don’t let him make you doubt yourself! You’re not helpless, foolish, seven, or out of your mind. You’re twice-over as smart as he is. You know it!”  

“I do, don’t I? I know it but he’s gotten so good at making me forget I know it.”

“Maybe he ought to catch you with me one night, see how childish he thinks you are then,” he gave a wiggle of one thick eyebrow, “You know how the thought of him walking in on us excites me,” Edward purred and rubbed his whiskered face against hers.

She laughed and pushed him away, “Well, that’s not saying anything. Everything excites you.”

He restrained himself, sensing Alice was not in a mood to be amorous tonight but her tears were all but forgotten and that’s what Edward had wanted all along. He satisfied himself with kissing her forehead and both of her cheeks. Alice cuddled into him, no doubt Richard would later complain that she stank and accuse her of skipping her bath but she liked Edward’s smell, there was something grounding in it for it did not reek of Richard’s cologne or the cloying potpourri her husband insisted on using to perfume every room. She had made the mistake of complaining once that it made her feel sick and gave her headaches. Richard had made sure to place a pot of the vile mixture on their bedside table. When she’d finally snapped and thrown it, he’d accused her of being unhinged.

She wanted to rub Richard’s sheets all over Edward until the smoggy, London-rain stink of him soaked into the expensive cotton, never to be washed out. She wished she could say she felt some measure of guilt for having an affair behind her husband’s back but she couldn’t muster it. She barely felt like Richard was her husband at all. Was it possible to betray a man if he was already her enemy?

“How long have we got until he comes back?” Edward asked.

“He won’t be back until dawn at least; he’s taken to staying out all night. Not that you’ll hear a complaint from me. Still, I worry he’s up to something. He’s probably hoping to provoke a fight. We’re having guests next Sunday and I just know he’s going to try something. They already half-believe I’m a madwoman.”

“My dear, you are in bed right now with one of the most infamous men in London. Most people would call you mad for that alone. Oooooh imagine the scandal if we did get caught. Your reputation would never recover!” he giggled.

“And you want my husband to catch us. Honestly, I’d think you secretly want to ruin me,” she scoffed.

He grew suddenly serious, an intense, excited look in his green eyes, like a cat eyeing a bird in a cage, “Maybe I do. Maybe I want to ruin you, corrupt you so much no one would ever recognize you again,” his breath was hot in her ear as he bent close to her, a hand stroking her hair, “Doesn’t that sound like the most delightful fun, Alice? Going down the road to ruin with me? When you lose everything and there’s nothing left you’d be free, as free as I am and you could do whatever you wanted forever. We could kill that husband of yours, we could turn the world upside down. Perhaps use your wonderful mirror and unleash pandora’s box upon the sleeping beast that is glorious London; we'll stand on top of the heap of rubble as it’s masters! Wouldn’t that be a fine thing, Alice?”

She grabbed him by his hair and gave it a yank, pulling him to look at her, he cursed and resisted her grip, snarling and baring his teeth at her but she held fast until he stilled.

“If I do that, I really will be a madwoman and I wouldn’t be Alice anymore. Would you truly want that?”

He went silent, the glassy sheen of her blue eyes quelling his anger. Thin lips came together in a tight line, concealing his teeth. He cupped her cheek, thumbing at the wetness gathering on her lashes.

“No, Alice. Of course, I don’t. I like you soft and strange and I don’t want to see anyone kill that in you.”

“I think you’re the only one who feels that way. Whether I’m here or in Wonderland I’m always too queer for anyone’s liking. I spend every waking moment pretending the things I love aren’t interesting and the things I hate are. I’m never allowed to say things as they are. I have to dress my words in frills and bows because naked words will upset people. Do you have any idea how tiring it is to have to put clothing on words so they’re right for the occasion? Somber enough for a funeral, dainty enough for tea, I’m so tired of it and-“ she froze, “-I’m doing it again aren’t I? Speaking nonsense…”

“I understood you, Alice,” Edward said, something gentle in his voice made him seem a little older and kinder, “I used to play an elaborate game of pretend until one day I couldn’t take it anymore. I needed to be real, even if obtaining that realness meant becoming the vile monster you see in front of you.”

“Sometimes I think monsters are easier than men,” she turned her face to the side, staring out the window and Edward could sense she was drifting.

He brushed the back of his knuckles over her cheek, “Take heart, darling, we’ll find some way to get you out of this,” he put his lips to her ear once more and whispered “But, I still think we should kill Richard…”

#Edward Hyde #Alice in Wonderland #Crossover AU

[frogsmulder]

When the Ice Melts

chapter 4/4, prev chapter

Mulder and Scully hook up before Mulder is locked up in storage, and she comes to believe that he was infected; 1k words; rated e; tagging @today-in-fic

Read on AO3

The metal of the door scrapes along the floor revealing the darkness inside the storage room. The light from the hall behind her stabs the shadows, showing Mulder huddled at the back against the shelving unit. He jumps to his feet, dazed by the light and startled by her presence. 

“Is it just you?” He sounds accusatory but she knows that is just the overcoat to his fright. 

She steps forward, firm. “Yes.”

The door scrapes again and she looks back as it closes behind her, eating the last slither of light as it swallows her with him in the darkness. In the moment before she reaches for the cord, everything is deathly still and drawn. She can hear his quiet, ragged breathing, placing him across from her, the howling of the wind outside and the pounding of her own heart in her chest. There's a cold metallic taste in her mouth and a weightlessness of her stomach falling. Then the light is on. 

The naked bulb swings freely between them, stretching and shaping the shadows on his face from his brow to his cheeks. His forehead shines, damp with sweat, and she can see properly now the slight red puffiness to his eyes. 

Mulder squints, offended by the sudden assault. “It's one of them”

She watches as his tongue darts out to wet his lips. 

“No-one's been killed since you've been in here.”

He shifts his weight, edging closer to her. “So?”

The air thickens and her breathes grow heavier. She gulps and considers: seeing him again for the first time in an eternity of a few hours. She can feel the blood pumping through her veins, carrying the thrum of something thrilling. “We found a way to kill it.” He is quiet, only blinking. She moves closer to him, seeking something. His warmth? His understanding? His touch? Him? Her lips quiver around the shape of the words in hesitation. “Two worms in one host will kill each other.”

His words are flat, “You give me one worm, you'll infect me.” 

“If that's true,” she whispers, advancing with a glare, “then why didn't you let us inspect you?”

In an instant he is crouched at her level, his face just inches away from hers. “I would have,” he hisses. “But you pulled a gun on me!” There's something in his voice but it lacks the venom of their previous argument. Her eyes dart between each of his, trying to focus but between his proximity and his wild eyes, her pulse picks up pace. He has them trapped in a curtain of darkness of his own making. The heat of his breath on her face sets her whole body alight, the carnal familiarity of it on her skin fuel to her funeral pyre. “Now, I don't trust them… I want to trust you.”

“Okay,” She steadies her breathing. “But now they're not here.”

With a burning lingering look, he turns away, pulling his shirt aside, offering his bare neck. Tentatively, she reaches up, fingers circling around the cotton. The grunt he makes when she yanks the collar has her clenching around the phantom feeling of where his cock was moving inside her just hours ago. Ignoring her sudden wetness, she feels the flesh of his shoulders, grasping and pulling, her touch more ardent with the realisation that his skin is as soft and smooth as it was before. He turns around and meets her gaze as if to say see? The relief she feels is overwhelming; she can't contain. The smallest slither of a smile slips past her lips. As it grows beyond control she dips her hide to mask her emotion. One thought fills her heart, spilling over: he's okay, we're okay. 

Scully makes to leave, having only managed two steps, when a firm hand grips her shoulder possessively, halting her in her tracks. The shock knocks the air from her lungs and she gasps. Whipping her head back to fire him a questioning look, she is again stopped still. A gentle hand caresses the back of her head both calming and warming. She could break away and demand to know what he is doing. She could, but to her own surprise, she doesn't want to. Completely under his control, she melts into defenceless putty in his hands. 

Tenderly, he brushes aside the hair on her neck, covering all of her with one strong hand. One purposeful squeeze and Scully bites her lip but not quick enough to keep the whimper from escaping. Part of her silently urges him to walk her up to the wall or bend her over a shelf and take her. The other party, that would have since protested, knows all too well the pleasure that can be found with him. Fuck. She squeezes her thighs together. 

“We need to talk.”

He hums but doesn't release her. 

“Mulder…” Reaching behind herself, grabs ahold of his wrist and pivots to face him. 

An impish smirk dons his features as he twists his hand to hold hers. Learning into her space, he whispers, “Don't worry: you feel good.”

His obvious innuendo makes her blush. She reaches up to cup his cheek, thumb stroking absently across it. “Mulder,” She admonishes again. 

He shakes his head apologetically. “I know.”

Looking into his dark eyes, she stretches up on the tip of her toes and takes his lips. Being scooped up in his arms, she deepens the kiss, desperately missing that closeness they had earlier. 

Scully is the first to break away, yet she keeps close, pitting her forehead against his. Her fingers curl through the hair at the nape of his neck as she slowly licks her lips. “If it's not you or me… “

“It's one of them,” he finishes for her. 

“How are we gonna do this?”

He clasps her hands in his and squeezes. “I don't know, but we have to trust each other.”

“Okay,” she nods. “Let's go.”

#msr #dana scully #the x files #fox mulder #xf fanfic #txf ice #my writing #when the ice melts

[karamazovanon]

Do you have any thoughts about Alyosha's momentary crisis of faith? Because I understood why he had one, but not so much why he was immediately ready to drink and go see Grushenka. Interested to see if you've any opinions on the matter, either regarding Grushenka or just in general.

OOOOOO this is an interesting question and my answer is going to get kinda long, warning you now LOL

i think alcohol & drinking in general is often a big part of "the karamazovian nature"—fyodor pavlovich and mitya are open alcoholics & hedonists, and ivan's heavily implied to be an alcoholic as well by his delirium tremens at the end—and more generally as one of the wordly temptations that human nature as a whole is susceptible to (tangent, but this is also really interesting when you keep in mind ivan's cup analogy!! drinking & cups are tied to living & life so often; mitya chooses to "fill" his cup/life with alcohol, ivan drinks in secret until he throws the cup/life to the ground at 30 in rebellion, and alyosha instead chooses to fill his cup/life with god. one of the schiller verses mitya quotes in the ardent confession chapter even says "To the soul of God’s creation / Joy eternal brings her draught, / In strong secret fermentation / Flames the cup of life aloft")

and the common denominator is that they don't believe enough to overcome the natural urge to indulge. mitya does believe, but he can't stop himself and reproaches himself for it; ivan doesn't believe despite wanting to and that contributes too imo. but alyosha doesn't drink and is an ascetic for the most part bc everything for him is based off of his unwavering faith—and so when his entire worldview and moral system is shaken by both ivan and father zosima, he questions EVERYTHING and begins feeling detached from reality when it doesn't match up. without his bulletproof faith intact, he no longer has the external ruleset to dictate his behavior, and the karamazovian desire to ease pain with alcohol wins for a moment without being able to trust his prior moral compass

(on rereading for this post, i don't have a formulated thought on it but it's interesting that he agrees to rakitin's initial offer of vodka even though they end up having champagne instead—there's probably some connection there between vodka and worldly/russian baseness vs champagne, which while not communion wine is still wine LMAO)

this quote from the onion chapter is what stands out the most to me, bold mine:

"Alyosha cried out with a wail in his voice. ‘I speak to you not as a judge, but as the least of the judged. What am I before her? I came here in order to be destroyed, saying: “Go on, go on!” – and that was because of my cowardice, while she, after five years of suffering, no sooner did someone come and say a sincere word to her, forgave everything, forgot everything and cried! The assailant of her honour has returned, is summoning her, and yet she forgives him everything and hurries to him in joy and she will not take the knife, she will not take it! Oh, I am not like that! I do not know whether you are like that, Misha, but I am not like that! Today, the moment I received this lesson, I … She loves in a way that is loftier than yours or mine … Have you heard her say this earlier, what she said just now? No, you have not; if you had, you would have understood everything long ago … And let the other woman, whom she offended the other day, let her, too, forgive her! And she will forgive her, if she learns of this … and she shall learn of it … This soul has not yet been reconciled, we must spare it … This soul may contain a treasure …" (tr. mcduff)

when he loses his infallible external/divine guidance, he has to turn inward/to the world around him instead, where he finds guilt and the human urge to self-destroy (as well as the influence of rakitin & his schadenfreude) and as a karamazov, it naturally comes first in the form of alcohol (women, too, but alyosha never really shows any desire on that front) when he sees grushenka's kindness and forgiveness, he snaps out of it and his faith is reinforced (while he believes he's a sinner and unworthy, he sees in her christlike forgiveness and is reminded that although he has these karamazovian urges, giving in to them entirely isn't the answer etc etc im not a theologian and have been writing too long anyway)

this has been such a long ramble with so little structure but this is SUCH an interesting plot point, thank you for asking my thoughts on it!! :D

#lmk what yall think!!! i only skimmed so its not impossible for me to be misremembering or misinterpreting something LOL #his Temptation is so so interesting #i think its bc seeing his doubt result in even stronger faith is so opposite to my personal experience that it FASCINATES me in literature #anonasks #the brothers karamazov #also i originally wrote “the karamazovian need to get white girl wasted” but decided to be serious for once instead #Also the fucking whiplash from the last ask to this one icb. #to me its like. he loses the spiritual morality so all he has left is to turn to the worldly morality and everyone around him drinks and #is a bad influence lol #and changing your faith is a HUGE paradigm shift too bc its a TON of beliefs rolled into one #for the devout like alyosha its the basis of EVERYTHING. your epistemology morality your perception of reality and people etc #so once the first domino falls you get a novice drinking champagne LMAO #i hope this was clear!! i keep ruminating and adding thoughts but i feel like my attempts to articulate them just make it more confusing LO #anonpost

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Yay! Your askbox is open again! ♥️ Hi there, Mousy! How are ya? 👋🏻 Here's a virtual cookie 🍪✨️

I was wondering if you have any thoughts about Isaac as a boyfriend/husband to the Farmer or Alesia as a girlfriend/wife to the Farmer. Maybe them as parents too, because I'm in a very wholesome mood lately! And I might gain inspiration to draw them, again, like I used to! :D Who knows? Hehe... Anyways, take ur time if you're answering this.

Thank you very much if you answered this! Have a good day! (*´▽｀)v✨️

I can't go anon for some reason, but I'm way too excited to wait |_•) I don't think I can calm down from my wholesomeness thoughts.

Hey hey Nim! 👋 Feeling good, thank you ☺️

Oh my gosh, thank you so much for the cookie! *eating the cookie* Mmmm, my favorite ❤️

I apologize for the inconvenience with the ability to ask a question as anon. Turns out I didn't turn that option on, I thought it was on by default 😅 so it's not your fault.

Here some random headcanons with Alesia and Isaac as partner/spouse/parent. Have a good day too! 🫰

Alesia:

Alesia is still responsible for the defense of Castle Village, so even though she lives in the Valley, she keeps in touch with her coworkers.

Not an ardent PDA fan, at most Alesia can be expected to kiss on the cheek in public. When she and Farmer are alone, she will show her tenderness: hugs, kisses, and maybe something else 👀

Loves to give and receive practical things to help in adventures: daggers, amulets, elixirs, artifacts. Also has a collection of rare daggers, so if the Farmer has a nice dagger lying around, found in adventures, it would make a great gift for Alesia.

A loving and moderately strict mother. Will always listen to her children, help them and protect them to the last, but will not spoil them much.

Can be a bit of a overprotective wife and mom, so let Farmer not be surprised that Alesia can break a stranger's nose because he said something bad about Farmer or their children. As it is, she's pretty peaceful.

Even if her and Farmer's kids don't want to become adventurers, the sniper still thinks that giving them a couple of self-defense lessons wouldn't hurt.

In the spouse area, she will set up a stand with her bows and a target, practicing archery in her spare time.

She will find common ground with the residents of Pelican Town very quickly. Her first friends are Robin and Leah.

Every Sunday she goes to Pierre's store to pray at Yoba's altar. Later Andy became her friend after constant meetings.

Her trust is very easy to lose, so Farmer should not deceive her. Never. For their own good.

Even if they are thinking of ending the relationship, let them say it straight, and they will separate like adults. Alesia will not tolerate deceit, and Farmer will regret it bitterly if they decide to cheat her.

Isaac:

With a partner like Isaac, Farmers get the scary dog privileges, whether they realize it or not.

Don't count on PDA, Isaac still can't get used to the idea of having a date. So it can be a bit much for him.

Even when Isaac is alone with Farmer, he may seem cold and closed off. But he's not the heartless, and willing to go down to hell for Farmer.

Farmer is honored to see Isaac's sword collection.

Sometimes Isaac needs time alone, and he's glad when Farmer understands him half-heartedly and gives him some space.

Without noticing it himself, Isaac began to flex in front of his beloved. A friendly fight with another adventurer was an opportunity for Isaac to show off all his skills as a fighter to Farmer.

Can be a rather jealous boyfriend (especially if Lance is hanging around somewhere). Even after marrying Farmer, may not stop being jealous. Apparently, the idea that he's not good enough for Farmer still haunts him.

Not the most affectionate spouse, but he tries hard, is pretty careful and gentle partner.

Only Farmer can catch the rarest phenomenon in the world, a smiling Isaac.

Strangely enough, he was the first to talk about children, and he has taken to preparing for the arrival of a new member of the family with all responsibility. A very gentle and careful father.

#sve #stardew valley expanded #stardew valley #sdv mods #sve alesia #sve isaac #thanks for the ask!

[blackjackkent]

Rakha puts a lot of thinking into the stretch of hallway leading to Inquisitor W'wargaz's inner sanctum.

As always in tense situations, her thoughts boil down into a collection of facts.

The zaith'isk tried to kill them.

The doctor may be a traitor. Or perhaps this was what was going to happen all along.

The artifact, and the guardian connected to it, have protected them - from the zaith'isk and from the Absolute. The guardian has given Rakha brief flashes of peace.

The artifact is of gith make, a weapon, an "Astral Prism." The Inquisitor here wants it back.

There are two possibilities.

If Lae'zel is right, and this was a conspiracy of a few, then the Inquisitor can help them. If the Inquisitor can help them and see that they are properly cleansed, then there is room for discussion. Perhaps even for returning the artifact to the githyanki - though there is a compulsive, wrenching feeling in her chest at the idea of giving up the guardian's protection.

If Lae'zel is wrong and the zaith'isk was always meant to kill them, then the Inquisitor cannot be trusted. None of the gith can be trusted.

And in that case... murmurs the beast urge in her head, ever-hungry, ever-brutal, they will all of them die screaming in the flames...

She sets her jaw tightly, gives a sharp shake of the head, trying to quell back the dark thoughts. Lae'zel taught her to attack with purpose; is there purpose in bleeding this place dry?

Yes... keens the beast. Lae'zel has already proven wrong once. Do not listen. You need nothing. Kill. Kill. Blood. Blood. Blood...

She squeezes her eyes shut, fists clenching at her sides, and strides forward towards the massive doors of the inner sanctum as if she could outrun the darkness in her head.

-----

W'wargaz is waiting expectantly at the center of the sanctum as the doors slide open. His eyes fix at once on Rakha, then slide sideways to examine Lae'zel narrowly.

"My ardents spoke of one of our kin that escaped a crashing ghaik slave-vessel," he says. His voice is smooth, softer than Therezzyn's was; it carries a tighter air of command, more accustomed to instant obedience.

Lae'zel inclines her head stiffly in a gesture of respect. "Ch'r'ai," she says. "Vlaakith's justice in flesh."

W'wargaz smiles tightly. "You have accomplished much, child. I am pleased to finally meet you. I heard there is so much goblin blood on your hands that it soaks their children's nightmares..."

Rakha can see the way the words work on Lae'zel. She remembers the night Lae'zel almost killed her in her near-transformation; she remembers what the worm revealed in the young gith's head - a fear of insignificance, of failure. This acknowledgment from the ch'r'ai is exactly what she wishes to hear. Her back straightens. Her eyes go wider.

Not waiting for a response, W'wargaz turns his attention back to Rakha, who is staring at him unblinkingly. "To business," he says brusquely. "I suspect you plucked something precious from the ghaik ship. Something that belongs to us. The weapon. Give it to me."

"Don't do it..." whispers the guardian within Rakha's mind. "The weapon is how I protect you."

"Do it," Lae'zel snaps, as if in answer. "Do not disobey the Inquisitor."

There it is, then. An inescapable choice now, between listening to Lae'zel and the guardian. The two voices (besides Wyll) that have influenced Rakha the most since she woke up on the nautiloid.

But she did not come here to discuss the weapon - she needs to know if these people mean her harm, first. If the idea of the cleansing is real - if it was ever real. So she slips sideways around the question and demands instead, "How do you know so much about me?"

Because clearly W'wargaz knows a great deal about them - from far before they arrived at the creche.

"Some of your species say knowledge is power," W'wargaz says coolly. "They are wrong. Knowledge is everything. We took an interest in you when you became involved with this 'Absolute' cult. A pestilence of infected slaves - the first symptom of the Grand Design in action." His eyes narrow. "But you are lucky - that weapon you carry is the solution. I have heard it from Queen Vlaakith herself. Hand it over."

This is a lot of words, but no answers. Rakha scowls. "What is the Grand Design?" she asks, still making no move towards the artifact in her pack. She has heard Lae'zel speak the words before, but without context - and W'wargaz is right about one thing. She needs knowledge, more even than the beast needs blood.

"The Grand Design is what all ghaik seek," W'wargaz says. His voice goes cold. "The restoration of the Illithid Empire, which spanned the entirety of the multiverse. For centuries, their Elder Brains sought to bring back their dominion. Every plot they hatched, we stopped. But now they are close to succeeding."

He stalks a slow circle around the center of the room, his eyes never leaving Rakha's face. "Never before could they pause ceremorphosis. Never before could they let the infection spread undetected. You saw the thralls gathered on the ghaik ship. Imagine that everywhere. Wants, needs, choice - all would cease to be. Everything rendered unto the ghaik."

He comes to a halt again, directly in front of Rakha, his gaze boring into her. "So. The weapon." His lips draw back in a tight, skeletal smile, mock-ingratiating. "Please."

(A/N: This is interesting; I feel like W'wargaz's perspective here is better explained than I remember it being for Hector. Not sure if this dialogue got polished in more recent patches or if Rakha is just asking more questions than Hector did. XD )

"Don't give it to him..." insists the guardian, with a distinct note of desperation.

Rakha hesitates. She knows more than she did when she came in, and the Inquisitor makes a compelling point. If this Absolutist plot is a facet of a mind flayer push for domination, then the weapon is valuable indeed. But all the more reason that she cannot turn it over if their safety is not assured. The Inquisitor is offering no more cleansing than the ghustil did.

"I won't let you take it," she says flatly.

"Do not try me!" Lae'zel snaps. "Hand over the artifact, or die by my hand!"

Rakha goes very still. Her eyes do not leave W'wargaz but she is acutely conscious of Lae'zel behind her, of the tension strained between them almost to the breaking point.

Would Lae'zel truly kill her? Even Rakha, with her bone-deep bloodlust, has stayed her hand from her companions; there is something different about the bond they share, the challenges they face together. But Lae'zel is willing to threaten her over the artifact, over disobeying this man's orders.

She is loyal to her people, certainly. Or she is afraid of the ghaik. Or perhaps she is still simply angry at Rakha for her broken heart. The reason doesn't really matter. The threat is real, regardless.

And Rakha is surprised to realize, distantly, that it hurts. She has trusted Lae'zel's judgment, valued her advice, followed her here willingly. And it is all coming apart.

The guardian is right. This place is a trap. It was always a trap.

"Remember the zaith'isk?" Rakha mutters, low, hoarse. "These gith can't be trusted. Follow my lead - I'll choose the right path."

One chance. She will give Lae'zel one chance to back down. She doesn't really expect it, and the beast is already stirring in her head, ready for the battle to come.

But to her surprise... Lae'zel yields.

"The zaith'isk..." Lae'zel's head tips forward and her eyes squeeze shut, remembering the agony of the machine that almost destroyed her. She seems to be fighting with herself inwardly, a terrible battle - everything she was taught, against the experiences of the last day and whatever bond still holds her tightly to Rakha in spite of her heartbreak. "Tsk-- tsk'va! I hate that you speak the truth," she growls, as if the words are razors in her mouth. "Choose...your path is mine to follow..."

Rakha lets out a slow breath she didn't realize she was holding. "We are keeping the artifact," she says curtly.

Lae'zel swallows a hoarse groan, as if someone has stabbed a knife into her gut and twisted. "Our fate is forged..." she whispers. "Mother Gith, guide us..."

Any sense of good humor drains from W'wargaz's face at once. And - as Rakha, deep down, suspected he would right from the beginning - he draws the huge greatsword at his back. "Your illustrious adventure ends here," he growls, swinging the sword in a wide arc towards Rakha's face. "Hta'zith!"

#bjk plays bg3 durge #rakha the dark urge #whew this got long XD #but much easier writing than thursday thankfully; my brain was just not in it then lol #poor lae'zel :( #i honestly kind of hate the structure of this conversation and it didn't really allow rakha to ask the questions she actually wanted to ask #but it all leads to the same place anyway #time for rakha to shred some faces

[fridayyy-13th]

so i am an ardent Sasha James Enjoyer, and as such i very much dislike fanon!Sasha. her personality and character do a near-complete 180 from canon to fanon, making it tough as hell to find fics that don't just make her the Braincell Mom Friend—if she's even featured—and i took that personally. i'm a fic writer, and i have quite a few WIPs bouncing around in my flash drive that feature her in at least some capacity, and i certainly didn't want to add to the pile of fics where Sasha is Like That. so, a while ago i re-listened to every episode she appears in and Compiled A List of Sasha Trivia, just random bits of info that caught my attention that help me keep a clear image of her character in my head. with maybe a little bit of headcanon thrown in there for fun.

so! without further ado: various Sasha notes bc i love her

never had any direct interactions/experiences with the supernatural before the Distortion

afraid of rollercoasters, doesn't like horror

considered herself a skeptic, thought working in the Institute made her moreso

had a "dreary" commute to work, liked peeking through the old warped windows of her building's stairwell bc it made people distort like a funhouse mirror

a bit of a pedant (calliope)

was more sympathetic towards Martin than the other two were after he gave his first statement in 022, felt bad for him being the target of Jon's ire

sososo curious, to the point it can overpower fear

deliberately didn't tell Jon about her initial encounter with the Distortion bc she knew he'd try to discourage her from going, which she'd already decided to do (stubborn)

of course, followed the Distortion (a whole-ass monster) to a cemetery in the dead of night without telling anyone about it

(she did so because it sounded like it knew a way to save Jon's, Tim's, and Martin's lives, and in the wake of Prentiss targeting Martin, she decided she couldn't take that chance)

"without thinking" she figured out how to kill the worms using CO2. i like to think that was some Knowing right there

Jon considered her the most "level-headed" of the team, and trusted her to be telling the truth

was the one to ask if Jon was okay after being caught off-guard by his surprise party (and was also the one who said it was "kind of fun, giving you a heart attack")

knew Jon was lying about his age, knew about Martin's CV (goes through her coworkers' files)

despite having hacked her way into said confidential files, she considered being recorded during Jon's birthday party an invasion of privacy

bullied Tim into stapling statements that one time

Tim was more outwardly upset by Jon's being promoted instead of Sasha than she was. she knew if she said anything about it she'd just wind up in trouble, so she kept her mouth shut

had been in academia for ten years by the time the Archives transfer occurred

knew about Danny and the reasons Tim joined the Institute

didn't think there was such a thing as a "real you," save for the actions one takes. considered everything else a mask put on for others

was dead-sure (and was correct in thinking that) Gertrude kept the Archives a mess for a reason, and was concerned about what the reason could be

and that's about all! alas it would have been wonderful if we'd gotten the chance to learn more about her, but given she's only in six episodes, some only for a moment, she really is jam-packed full of character and life. i love her so much.

#friday chats #the magnus archives #sasha james #don't mind me starting like half the sentences in that beginning bit with 'so' btw. it's a bit of a problem lol

[mintacle]

The girl-coded thing was like, forever ago, but I just was thinking about how the victim brutally avenging themselves is a very girl-coded narrative? Like, the rape and revenge trope. Woman gets sexually assaulted (or some other form of survivable but violating violence like mutilation) but survives and wrecks bloody vengeance on behalf of herself. I don't know but a woman taking brutal and bloody revenge for herself rather than on behalf of someone adjacent to her seems far more common than the same story with a man, perhaps because it demands victimization of the protagonist as the inciting incident which people are way less comfortable doing to a male character. Heck, Jason's female sidekick from the Morrison run (which I know we all pretend didn't happen) has exactly that sort of origin where she's brutally mutilated by Professor Pyg, though admittedly it's not well-written enough to give Sasha much of an inner life or goals let alone a proper revenge arc. I think Jason is supposed to have brainwashed her somehow within the five seconds of meeting her. But it's a very female character sort of narrative I see a lot.

Ah! yes, it was like two months ago, which does feel like forever though. I am still an ardent believer in this, I just have this issue that I stupidly believe if I've said something once, then that ought to be enough. (wdym I have to promote my point? I explained it so well though??)

The revenge trope often falls onto female characters! Male-characters are "inspired to prevent what happened to them to happen to others"(Batman) or "trying to make the world better"(Batman, again) and generally encompass the idea that you can grow and move beyond your trauma (oh, look, again what people pretend Batman is!)

Female characters suffer from this old idea, as already expressed by that bitch Kant, that they don't act moral/immoral, but they ARE moral or immoral. It's a neat little way of thinking that allows you to trust that "women won't ever learn" but at the same time dismiss any moral virtue a woman does possess! How useful.

Which is also the way people act around Jason, this weird have-it-all between wanting to punish him and teach him, but at the same time knowing he is a "lost cause". And boy is that a typically feminine experience.

I haven't read Morrisson either, bc yeah duh, but I do think it would make a lot of sense for Jason to team-up with female characters. I'm most interested in seeing Jason and Stephanie work together.. boy, would they have a bunch to talk about.

#jason todd #ask answered #sincere apologies for having allowed this one to fester in my askbox for so long. that's on me! #rambling #girl-coded jason todd #brought to you by yours truly again

[annab-nana]

hi!! If you feel comfortable with the idea, I’d love to request friendly sunshine enfp!reader with protective!Steve and they both are very friendly to Eddie which causes him to develop feelings for both and after talking about it together, they welcome him into their relationship with open arms! Otherwise!! Could you maybe do that reader with protective!Steve at party where other guys are getting a bit too friendly? Thank you so much <3 and i love your writing btw!!

aww thank you!! i'm more comfortable with the second idea so i'm gonna do that one if that's alright :)

warnings: someone getting a little too close, not proofread

❀ masterlist ❀

you were bouncing on the balls of your feet as you waited for steve to grab his jacket from his trunk for you. you'd heard the tales of king steve and his party background, but the whole time you'd known him, he was more reserved and liked to stay in. it wasn't that you minded it, but you were one who liked to go out, talk to people, make new memories, and embark on new adventures. while steve was your greatest adventure yet, you still were thrilled to see steve do something more your style.

"if i didn't know any better, i'd say this is your first rodeo," steve stated lightly while slipping his coat over your shoulders. you smiled brightly up at him and gently shook your head.

"not my first, but my first with you." your voice was soft as you inched closer to his mouth to give him a quick peck. reaching down, you grabbed his hand in your own. "let's go inside," you practically squealed. steve swore he fell more in love with you as you pulled him along to the entrance.

once the door was opened by some random girl, you let out an elated gasp and beelined it to robin. "robbie, hi," you dragged out when you approached her and surprised her with a hug.

almost every time you greeted the girl, she got slightly overwhelmed by your joy and enthusiasm in seeing her. her gaze always widened and her eyes often found steve who just shrugged at her, not at all offering the girl any help.

robin was the first of many you greeted happily and talked to that night. steve stood by robin and watched you bounce from person to person, talking with such passion and listening to what they had to say even more ardently. then, you'd come back to him, fill him in a little on what you'd discussed before someone else caught your eye and you'd go catch up with them and repeat the process.

robin and steve talked about you, keith, work, anything else they had to share with one another before steve's eye caught you talking to a guy. steve trusted you and had seen you talk to guys plenty of times. it never bothered him, but the way this guy in particular was leaning in a little too close wasn't sitting right with steve.

"robin, i'll be right back," steve excused himself while robin followed his line of sight to see what was wrong. once she saw it, she nodded her head and moved to let steve by.

"dude, her class was so bad. i literally drew in the margins of my notes all the time. i think i fell asleep a couple times. i'd have to ask steve," you told john avidly and glanced in the direction you last saw steve, but robin stood alone. she nodded her head a little to the left and you followed to see steve coming up to you and john. "and there he is. steve, did i fall asleep in mrs. jones's class senior year?"

you looked up at him while he gazed off to ponder. his arm wrapped around your waist and gently tugged you closer to his body before he looked down at you. "yeah, i think i do remember you snoozing a few times in her class. were you in that class too, john?"

since steve arrived, john discreetly backed away and maintained eye contact with your boyfriend while you looped your arms around steve's waist. "no, uh. i had her at a different time." john looked down to you. "well, it was nice catching up, y/n. maybe i'll see you around."

"yeah, maybe," steve answered for you while you sent the boy a wave.

once john was out of earshot, you turned your face into steve's chest and giggled into his shirt. "i didn't think he'd ever leave me alone."

"why didn't you say anything? i could've come over sooner."

"well," you started, moving to look up at him, "i didn't want to be mean."

"sweetheart, if you're uncomfortable, you've gotta say something or else no one will know."

"you know," you spoke small and went back into his chest. steve's arms came around your shoulders and held you to him. you were usually very outspoken, especially for other people, but when it came to yourself, he knew it was more challenging for you to stand up.

"i'll protect you for as long as i can." whether it was a guy getting a little too friendly or some demo-creature from the upside down, steve would be your guardian.

remember to support writers & reblog :)

turn on notifications for @annab-library to be notified when i post something new!

#stranger things #blurbs #steve harrington #steve harrington blurbs #steve harrington x reader #lovemegood

[naffeclipse]

I needed to process everything so it took a bit to get this finished. (and some personal stuff delaying it further, along with me just being slow,, sorry,, and I'm sorry these are SO LONG! I have so much to say and still there's more! Sorry for giving you comments that look like essays..)

Naff, I can’t tell you properly with just words how much I’ve enjoyed Cryptid Sightings, it’s been nearly all I’ve been thinking about since late october last year! I think you might have an idea of how obsessed I’ve been X3

Before I start with my reactions and rambling I just also wanna tell you that this ending is PERFECT, it’s such a satisfying and beautiful ending to such a wonderful and gripping story. It leaves you with more than enough to make you wonder what might happen next but still to a very satisfying degree. It sticks with you in the best way.

Alright here we go! *rubs hands together*

You still spit darkness. Occasionally, Sun reaches over to wipe away a black tear that sprung from your watery eyes.

I love how traces of the possession stays behind, reminding you of what the horrors you were put through. It’s so dark and horrifying. It also makes me think, are all of Glitchtrap really gone? Does this substance still count as part of him? A part of him that sticks to you until it’s all expelled and can dissolve, or does it stay around even after that.

Just thoughts.

A weak smile decorates Vanessa’s lips before you coax her to try and eat a chocolate granola bar you have stashed. She refuses, almost crying violet tears.

There’s more of the fluid,, also I wanna give Vanessa a hug,, I hope she’ll still be able to make her tea! :’0

The doctor becomes a little pale when she spares a glance at the robot, but you’re pretty certain Moon didn’t scare her too much.

In the end, no hospital employee tells him to leave.

Oh I’m sure he didn’t scare them too much, dude just gave them the demonic grin and eyes they give everyone that comes in the way of them and their heart, no biggie!

You can’t linger on what would have happened if you had succumbed to the vampire bite.

HEHE! WE KNOW!! >:D

I love this throwback!! I NEED to reread The Lost Episode, along with the rest of the fic!!

You return, and don a t-shirt that reads ‘Everybody gangsta ‘til the pants start walking’ with a cartoon depiction of the Fresno nightcrawlers. Moon’s grin widens. Vanessa wants to know how you keep finding shirts like that.

I wanna know too!!!! I NEED Y/N’S SHIRTS!!!!!!

She reaches up and rubs her eyes. You contemplate pulling over but she lifts her head. The wetness in her eyelashes is clear and bright.

There we go, clear tears at last. She and the rest of them still have so much to recover from, but at least they’re not haunted by the presence of Glitchtrap anymore. I’m just hoping there aren't any more traces left hiding away somewhere.

“I trust them with all my heart.” You say it simply and ardently.

aaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAWAWWWAWAAWAAAAAA!!!!!!

“I would hope it’s quite obvious, little hunter.” His fingertips move to press against the small of your back. On reflex, you work your arm around his slender waist and hold on. He lightly dips you down. “But since there have been habits of missing what’s right in front of you, allow me to be perfectly clear.”

FJKGHDLSJKFGHDFJKGHADKJFGHLKÖGJÖGKLHADLFJK Way to call them out!! But aaa this is soooo cute! And I’m getting emotional from it too just AAAAAA!!

“I’m sorry, I’ve never danced with anyone before,” you admit. You feel lightheaded and connected to earth, all at once.

Moon spins you around to face him. His grin is sharp as he utters, “Good.”

KJHJKHDLKJFGHDSLLKDFJHGL “GOOD” XD

I love them, I love them so much!!

“Are you sure you want to give it to me?” you caution, unsure if you’re demanding something that is not yours.

The deep laugh, hearty and raspy, echoes from their wide jaws.

“If we had a heart, we would give it to you.”

Live Meep reaction: *Wailing and bawling on the floor* Where have they learned to talk this sweetly?!? AAAA I WANNA SQUEEZE THEM!!!!

Their first kiss saved you. You can only imagine what their second kiss will do to you.

I’m. I’m normal about the fact that their first kiss saved their life. I’m.. I’m normal. So normal…

Actually. NO.

I’m shaking you Naff!!! You made us wait until the second to last chapter until we got the first kiss! And it SAVED Y/N’S LIFE!!!!! And still you didn’t even give us a nice one with no threat looming around it until THE LAST CHAPTER!! NAFF I LOVE YOU FOR DOING THAT!!!!

Tlehoolcha! There it is! Tlehoolcha!! We’ve waited so long and here it finally is! Tlehoolcha!!! I love their beautiful name!! It’s so otherworldly and it fits them so well! I love to say it too! Thank you for helping us pronounce it correctly and letting us hear you say it with your wonderful voice ❤️

“Are you scared?” they rasp.

“No,” you whisper. “I care about you so much. It makes my heart do weird things.”

OH IF THAT AIN’T A MOOD ASJDHADFSDGJK

aaaaaaaaAA my heart!!! This melts me to the core!! I’m just,, I have so many feelings towards these two,, Them being happy together is all I wanted and here we are!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Also man I hope Vanessa will be able to get her own truck and airstream or just place soon, for her own good ya know pdjdhfhdjdj XD

Aaaaand of course, The X-Files fkngaklfdjghldfkj

The last sentence has me melting into my cushions..

Naff.

NAFF.

This ending!! AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!! GOSH I WANNA HUG YOU!!!!!

A fun thing that comes with a story ending is that you can finally see it all in its full glory! I’m turning the whole of Cryptid Sightings around in my hands and looking at every detail, I’m squeezing it and shaking it like it’s a beloved stuffed animal!! I love being able to see it all through from beginning to end, it all fits together so neatly and aaaAAA I LOVE ALL OF IT!!! I’d LOVE to have a physical copy of it, I wanna hold it all in my hands!!

Lovely chapter as always!! Thank you Naff for this beautiful gem, this has been a fantastic journey and I cannot wait to see what worlds you’ll invite us to next! <3

Ah, Meep! Please don't apologize for being 'slow to read' the fic is always there when you're ready ♥ I also love essay-like comments so don't you worry about that! :D

There's so much that makes me scream in joy that you commented on, especially the little details and, hehe, the ending scene between Y/N and the boys! I'm so happy you love their name ;-; I was nervous to share my voice but I do want people to be able to pronounce it right! It's very important to me ♥

Ahhh, thank you, Meep! I am smooching you *mwah* I love and appreciate all the fanart you've created and I adore your designs of the cryptid boys, and you are such a big inspiration and supporter. Thank you, babe!

#themeeplord #cryptid sightings spoilers #compliments