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rollingsins · 1 year

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all hers, part x

summary: Sam moves in. Tara isn’t happy, so you soothe her in the only way you know always works.

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, mention of murder, drug abuse, strap-ons, vaginal sex, top!reader, bottom!tara

word count: 3.5k

a/n: for all my bottom!tara supremacists. enjoy, and tell me what you’d like to see next!!

Tara stays in the hospital for the rest of the weekend.

You don’t let her out of your sight, not once, sleep curled into her side with your back against the hospital bed railing so she can have more space.

You think she kind of likes it, you fawning over her like this. You can tell by the way she grips you tight when you try to get up to go to the bathroom. Or when she insists she’s too tired to shower alone.

The morning after she was first admitted, Sam shows up in a flurry, her new boyfriend Richie on her arm.

“What happened?” She asks, somewhat accusingly as she looks down at Tara’s sleeping body, curled into your side.

You hesitate a moment. Sam’s scary when she gets angry, and this would almost certainly make her mad.

“She mixed some pills. She was… upset.”

“Upset?” Sam asks, “Upset about what?”

“Wes.” Tara croaks out, stirring against your side, “He’s missing.”

Sam crouches down, brushes Tara’s hair out of her face.

“Oh, Tara. I know. I’m so sorry.”

Then, she grips Tara’s hand, hard.

“What were you thinking?”

Richie’s looking at you, a little funny.

“Maybe we should go and get some coffee.” He suggests, “Let these two catch up.”

“No.” Tara says immediately. Grips a possessive hand around your waist. You press a kiss to the top of her head.

“It’s a good idea. I’ll be ten minutes. You can catch up with your sister. I’ll get you some Jell-o.”

She stares at you a moment, before relenting.

“Strawberry, please.” She murmurs.

You press a kiss to her lips. Watch as Sam surveys you. Then follow Richie out of the room.

You’ve met Richie exactly once. Tara didn’t like him, but you didn’t think he was that bad. A little awkward, sure. Gangly but harmless. Sometimes, inappropriate jokes.

He cracks one now, as you’re lining your paper cup underneath the coffee machine, trying to break the tension. You don’t laugh.

Your girlfriend lying in the hospital with tubes coming out of her nose has somewhat ruined your sense of humor.

“So, uh… what do they think happened to that Wes kid?” Richie asks, out of nowhere, “They think it was Ghostface?”

You turn, sharp.

“No. He’s missing, that's all.”

Richie hums.

“That’s the Sheriff’s son, right?” He asks, “We ran into her on the way here. Wouldn’t want to be the one who took her kid. That guy’s in for a world of hurt when she catches him.”

Your stomach churns, uncomfortably.

“You ran into her on the way here?” You ask, head tilting.

Richie nods, “Yeah. Told her about Tara. I think she’s going to come and check on her later this afternoon.”

Your stomach drops.

“Oh. Perfect.”

Richie catches your tone, “You don’t like the Sheriff?”

You pull your coffee cup out from the filter. Try to appear casual.

“She doesn’t like us.” You say, honestly, “She’s- caught us. A few times.”

“Huh.” Richie says, like he doesn’t know what to do with that information. You’re hoping it will make him uncomfortable enough to stop asking questions. It seems to work.

“So. Um. No word from Tara’s mom?”

By the time you make it back to the room, Sam’s taken your seat, and Tara looks unhappy.

“They were out of strawberry.” You murmur, press a kiss to her cheek. Set the raspberry Jell-o to the nightstand. You settle down on the edge of her bed, rub at the frown on her face, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m moving back home.” Sam answers before she can speak. “It’s a bit of a- shock, clearly.”

“Oh.”

A storm brews behind Tara’s eyes. You rub her arm, hoping to calm her a little. It doesn’t work.

“You can stay a week.” Tara says, sounding very much like it’s the last thing in the world she wants to offer, “Then you can go.”

“Tara, this isn’t up for negotiation.” Sam says, she reaches for Tara’s hand. Tara’s shoulders tense, “Mom is…. fucking useless and I don’t want you in that big house all alone. Look what just happened.”

“I’m not alone,” Tara argues, “I have YN. And we’re happy. You being there would just… ruin everything.”

“Thanks.” Sam says, a little sarcastic. She doesn’t look put off, “I won’t ruin your love bubble, sis. I promise. YN can stay. Richie and I will take the guest room-”

“Richie?” Tara says, incredulously, “No, Sam. No way.”

Richie laughs, somewhat uncomfortably. He looks at Sam.

“Always great to know where I stand with the family.”

“Enough, Tara.” Sam says, like it’s final, “It’s my house just as much as it is yours. And I’m staying there so I can keep an eye on you, like it or not.”

Tara’s in a terrible mood when Sam and Richie finally leave to pack. You curl up into her, try and soothe some of the anger with a kiss.

“Come on, babe.” You say, press your lips to her chest, “It won’t be that bad.”

“She always does this.” Tara seethes, “She always has to ruin it. Why does she always ruin it?”

“She cares about you.” You say, “She just wants you to be safe.”

Tara pouts.

“I like it when it’s just you and me. How am I supposed to eat you out on the kitchen counter when she’s around?”

“You’re not.” You say sternly, “And don’t you dare try.”

She groans.

“See? This already sucks.”

You kiss her once more.

“We’ll just have to have sex in bed like regular people.” You tease, stroke her cheek, “It’s not the end of the world.”

Tara bites her lip, “And you’re staying with me, right?” She says, sounding somewhat vulnerable, “You’re not going back home to sleep without me, right?”

“I’m staying with you,” You assure. Punctuate your point with a kiss, “I promise.”

A knock on the door breaks you apart.

It’s Sheriff Hicks, dressed in her uniform, hat in her hands.

“Hi girls.” She says, “Just thought I’d stop by and check in.”

Immediately your heart races. Your hands sweat, clammy. The Sheriff moves a little closer, edges to the end of the bed. Tara’s hand tightens around yours. She rubs her thumb over the back of your hand, soothingly.

“Hi Sheriff.” She says, “Thanks for stopping by.”

“Your sister mentioned some pills.” Sheriff Hicks says, eyes stern, “Care to tell me where you got them from?”

“My mom’s bathroom cabinet,” Tara lies, without a beat, “That’s not a crime, is it?”

“Actually it is.” The Sheriff says, “That coupled with the underage drinking. Not a good look, Tara.”

“You’re not going to arrest her?” You ask, in somewhat disbelief, “Look at her. She’s in a hospital bed.”

The Sheriff surveys you for a moment. Her expression is blank, unreadable. But her eyes give her away. Hard, pained. She’s hurting. And hurt makes people unpredictable. For a moment, you really do think she’s about to pull out her handcuffs.

“No. Just- don’t do it again. I can only look the other way so many times, Tara.”

Tara nods.

Your heart slows, just for a moment.

“Any word on Wes?” Tara asks.

The Sheriff swallows.

“No. But that’s actually part of the reason I came here.”

She looks like him, you think. Same eyes. Same unnerved expression.

“I know you girls said the last time you saw him was on Thursday. But I have a witness who told me otherwise.”

You might be sick. Your heart hammers so loudly you’re sure she can hear it. Tara grips your hand.

“Really? Who?”

“One of your neighbors.” She’s looking at you, critical, hard, “They saw Wes on your doorstep Friday afternoon.”

Silence fills the room. Your mind is blank, frantic. You scramble for an excuse. Tara beats you to it.

“You left your biology notes for him, didn’t you babe?” Tara says, turning to you. You look into her eyes. Warm, encouraging. Slowly, you nod.

“Yeah. I’m so sorry. I totally forgot. He asked if he could pick them up.”

The Sheriff watches you, her stare piercing.

“And you let him in?”

“He had a key,” Tara says smoothly, “We were- showering.”

“So you didn’t see him?”

Tara shakes her head.

“No. Sorry. Like I said, we were busy.”

You bite your lip, anxious. Wonder if she’s buying it.

“If he had a key, why did he knock?” The Sheriff asks. Your stomach whirls. It’s a fair question.

“All our friends knock,” Tara says, her fingers tightening around yours, “We have a certain reputation. Ask Mindy, or Chad.”

The Sheriff’s tense shoulders loosen a little. She scribbles something down on her notepad.

“Alright. Thank you girls.” She hovers a moment, “I hope you feel better, Tara.”

And she leaves.

The moment she’s gone, you bury your face in Tara’s neck.

“It’s okay, baby.” She soothes, rubbing her hand down your back, “She believed us.”

“I hate this.” You say, mournful, “Every-time she’s around, Tara, I feel like I’m going to-”

“Shh.” Tara murmurs against the top of your head, “Everything is okay.”

Tara’s discharged in the morning.

Sam drives the two of you home, ignores Tara’s grouchy jabs as she cooks the three of you dinner. Tara’s still a little weak, so she serves you in bed. When she comes back to collect the plates, Tara isn’t afraid to give her honest opinion.

“The chicken was a little dry.” Tara says, slouching back against the pillows, “Can you please make sure Richie doesn’t touch my movie collection. I have it alphabetized.”

Sam isn’t easily deterred.

“Get some sleep.” She tells the two of you. Presses a long kiss against the top of Tara’s head, “Love you. I promise I won’t let Richie touch your precious movie collection.”

You kick off your jeans, crawl back into bed with Tara as Sam leaves.

“Be nice to your sister.” You chide, pinch her side as you curl into her, “She’s trying.”

“Too little, too late.” Tara murmurs, “Besides, I wanted to watch that new M Night Shyamalan movie tonight. Can’t do that with Richie lounging around, playing his stupid shooting games.”

Richie had commandeered the living room pretty quickly. Faintly, you can hear the sounds of Call of Duty blasting up the staircase.

“We can still watch it.” You assure, “I’ll get my laptop.”

Tara makes a face.

“Baby, you can’t watch movies on a laptop. It ruins the entire experience.”

“So we’ll watch The Bachelor.” You say, a little excited at the prospect, “They’re down to the final three.”

Tara tugs at your waist, pulls you into her.

“Or…” She says, pressing a kiss to your neck, “We could do something else.”

You close your eyes. Her tongue runs down the length of your neck, that familiar feeling of arousal flickering through your body.

“You’re still sick. You need your strength.” You say, a little half-hearted. Her hands grip your hips, trying to pull you on top of her.

“I’m lying down, aren’t I?” She murmurs. Her hands reach down into your underwear, trying to tug them down.

You sigh, tilt your head to kiss her feverishly.

You’ve missed her like this, you realize the moment your lips meet. You haven’t had sex with her in almost two weeks, a record for the two of you. Without a word, you relent.

Her hands are greedy, roaming, trying to touch every inch of your skin.

You climb on top of her, hands on her face, keeping her lips fused to yours.

She’s so good with her hands, you think as she slips you out of your clothes. Her touch is like wildfire, igniting every part of you. Passionate, fierce kisses as she pushes her body up to yours, trying to grind herself against your thighs.

You part from her lips for a moment, trail hot kisses down her neck.

She’s egregiously overdressed. Blindly, you tug her sweatpants down her legs, her underwear soon to follow.

You pull her shirt up, kiss your way down to her nipples and take one in your mouth.

“Fuck.” She moans as you suck gently, take the other one between your fingertips. You can hear Sam and Richie’s voices downstairs, lick at her nipple once more before leaning up to kiss her again.

“Quiet, baby.” You murmur. The last thing you want is Sam coming back up to check on her. Your hand slips down her body to feel between her legs. She feels so good, warm and wet. Your moan almost matches hers.

She looks up at you, smiles slightly, her dark eyes impossibly turned on.

“Snap.” She murmurs before you’re leaning down to kiss her again.

You kiss a while more, slipping your fingers through her wet heat, loving the feeling of her tight under you, desperate leaning up to meet your kisses. She’s so pretty like this, wild, wanting and so wet. It sends a thrill through you. Even after all this time, even after you’d had her like this so many times, she still got so turned on for you.

“I love you.” You sigh into her mouth, “I want to taste you so bad.”

It’s not a question, and you don’t wait for her response. You kiss your way down her body, tilting her thighs to nestle yourself between them. You press a quick kiss to her inner thigh, then allow yourself to dive into her syrupy wetness.

She moans as you swipe your tongue down her length. Her hands reach down to your head, locking you in place. You kiss her once, then twice, then trail your tongue down to her entrance, lapping gently in the way you know she likes so much.

You wrap your arms around her thighs, keeping her where you want her. Teasing her entrance, slipping your tongue in and out a couple of times. She tastes incredible, you can’t get enough. You drink her greedily, like she’s a fine wine, then lick your way up to her swollen clit.

“Oh my god.” She’s moaning as your tongue flicks against her. Her thighs tighten around your head, her hands gripping your hair so tight.

You lick a few times, drawing a little more wetness out of her before you’re wrapping your lips around her clit and sucking hard. She likes it like this, she likes the pressure of your lips against her, suctioning hard, not giving her a moment to breathe.

Her hips are tilting up, trying to get more as you lovingly suck her into an orgasm.

She cums quick, hard, all breathy, quiet moans.

Her hips jerk, and then sink back into the pillow. You release her with a final, tender suck, then press your lips to her thigh as you’re rising back up to meet her.

She sighs as you kiss her, wraps her legs tight around your torso.

“I missed you.” You tell her, press another gentle kiss to her lips, “I missed doing that.”

“Me too.” She says. Her hands are still in your hair, her body pressed tight against you. She’s still so wet against your stomach.

“I want to do something.” You say, your lips against her jaw, “I want to fuck you.”

She nudges her nose against your cheek, smiling slightly, “What do you think we’re doing? Playing scrabble?”

You’re deadly serious. You don’t smile, grip your hands tight around her thighs.

“No, baby. I want to fuck you.”

Her mouth falls open, slightly. She knows what you mean, you can tell by the way her eyes darken, a little unsure. You kiss her once more, soft, reassuring.

“Please.”

She swallows. Surveys you for a moment, those pretty brown eyes, dark, hesitant. Then, she nods.

You don’t give her a moment to change her mind. You’re reaching into the top drawer of her nightstand, tugging out the harness. Usually, this was her role. It’s what she liked the most. Topping you, making you hers. Tonight, you wanted to make her yours.

She watches as you slip the straps around your waist, her legs spread slightly, making your mouth water. You hurry through it, wincing as you tighten it a little too hard, confusing yourself with the varying straps.

“Here.” She sits up, helps you into it properly. Gives your hips a little squeeze.

You kiss her once more. Tangle your hands in her dark hair. Then you’re pushing her back onto the bed.

She looks a little confused. You didn’t wear the strap much, but when you did she was usually on top. You lean down and kiss her again, reassuring.

“I want you on your back tonight.” You tell her, “Is that okay?”

She blinks up at you. Then she’s nodding, slow.

“Good girl.” You say, you lean down, press a kiss to her knee, “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

She complies without a second thought. You slip in between her legs, placing her thighs on yours.

You can’t resist reaching down to brush your fingers over her clit. She looks so pretty like this. Spread wide for you, naked and wanting. She looks vulnerable, like she’s yours for the taking.

“You’re so beautiful.” You tell her, spread her thighs a little wider.

She bites her lip as you lean in a little, rub the head of the dildo through her folds.

She’s wet, wet enough for you to not need lube but you reach for it anyway. Pour a healthy helping into the dildo. She flinches slightly as the cold hits her warm heat. You apologize with a kiss.

You slip your tongue into her mouth, rub the head of the dildo against her clit. She sighs into your mouth.

“Inside.” She murmurs. “Please baby.”

You rub your hands over her thighs, soothe her as you slowly enter her.

“Fuck.” You gasp out as the edge of the strap-on brushes your clit. You sink in as far as you can physically get, until your hips are flush against the back of her thighs. She’s tight, tense against you. You kiss her, let her get used to the stretch of you.

Then, you gently jerk your hips forward. Her hands grip your arms, she shudders slightly as you sink back inside.

It’s not hard to see why she likes doing this to you so much.

You feel powerful, tilting your hips into her, knowing you’re the one inside her, making her feel so good. She’s a little breathier than usual. Her chest flushing red, biting her lips as you thrust into her. It’s addictive.

“Does that feel good, baby?” You murmur. She nods, eyes closed. You lean down, rub her clit.

“Tell me.”

“It feels good. Really good.” She says, her voice strangled. Higher than usual.

You pump your hips a little harder.

“I love it when you let me fuck you like this.” You murmur, lean down to press your body over hers. Pepper her neck with kisses, “You look so pretty like this, sweetheart.”

You grip her thighs, tilting your hips. The act itself was hot, but more than anything you knew she’d never let anyone else take control like this. The fact that she trusts you so much turns you on even more. You press down into her, fuck her a little harder.

She gasps.

You lose yourself a little. Your hips thrust hard, fucking her into the mattress. She’s all soft skin and quiet moans, her fingernails carving half moons into your back. You kiss her, a little sloppy, overwhelmed by the way she’s writhing under you.

Each thrust edges you a little closer. You suck on the base of her neck, reach down to rub her clit, needing her close.

“Fuck.” She moans, “I’m going to cum.”

Her back arches.

You pound into her a little harder, sending her careening off the edge. Her entire body tightens, nails clawing into you as you fuck her through her orgasm. Then, with one more thrust you join her, body tensing as you orgasm hard.

You heartbeat thrums. You press a kiss to her chest, feel her heart pound under your lips. Then you’re moving back up to her lips, taking her in a sweet kiss.

You lay on her a little longer, until she’s yawning sleepily, then withdraw yourself with a careful tug, and slip the straps off your waist.

You nestle yourself into her side, wrap a protective arm around her body.

“Thanks, baby.” You murmur, “Love you.”

“Love you too.” She says.

Her eyes droop slightly.

She wakes herself up, tries to reach down your body.

“Go to sleep, babe.” You tell her, press one more kiss to her lips.

“What about you?”

“You already made me cum.” You tell her, you rub her leg, tug her into you. “Doing that.”

“What, just lying there?” She smiles, tilts her head into your chest.

“Laying there incredibly sexily.” You say. “Did you like that?”

She hums. Rubs her hand against your hips.

“Yes. More than I thought I would.” She says, a little shy.

“Good.” You say. Kiss her slow, “Because I want to do that again. And again. And again after that.”

“Hmm.” She says, “I might be okay with that.”

Next part

#ah #ghostface!tara #tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x fem reader #imagines #scream #jenna ortega #Jenna Ortega x reader

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solecize · 1 month

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ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘. every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision. despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart. 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining, jungkook as a parental figure 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 5.2k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. filler-ish, but this is the second last chapter! we're almost there guys

part nine: the plan, the failed plan and the distractionsㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ previous. next. masterlist

xxi. the plan

you supposed it was some sort of karma for your and jungkook’s poor judgement to be put in this position. the two of you confirmed over text that there was a long overdue talk needed between you guys, but it’d been over a week now. every time it seemed like there would be a spare moment, something would always find its way between the two of you.

one random thursday afternoon, you ran into jungkook coming back from the riding trails with leo. you thought this was your chance, until namjoon came trailing behind them. then, at the saloon the next night, jungkook was whisked away by a last minute shift coverage at work. it was growing frustrating, trying to identify an opening in both of your schedules.

“who are you texting? you look troubled,” asked yoongi, trying to look at your phone from over your shoulder.

you instantly put your phone down on the table. “stop being nosy.”

“if it’s jungkook, just say so, so we can all stop stressing about you,” namjoon interjected from across you.

it was now nearing the end of july, which meant the midsummer fair was around the corner. the last of preparations weren’t difficult, but you figured namjoon could need the help. everyone else seemed to be working or, in jungkook’s case, preparing for the show jumping competition at the fair. it was apparent that he was rusty and was training last-minute. meanwhile, you and yoongi were recruited to help namjoon with miscellaneous tasks.

“yeah, he hasn’t had time because he’s been hanging out with you,” yoongi said, as he wrapped some ribbon around a prize basket.

you ignored yoongi, too focused on your current text conversation with jungkook. he and namjoon exchanged looks, then sighed in unison. you raised an eyebrow at the two of them.

“so, you guys are going to the fair together, right?”

taken aback, you replied, “what do you know about that?”

this was the first time it came up and was definitely not something talked about between you and jungkook, especially with the latter’s insistence that you were simply just friends. now, of course, the situation was vastly different. there was no way to shake off the kiss you shared a week ago - though neither of you acknowledged it over text and only implied it was to be talked about in person.

“enough to know that you should just ask him. it’s so obvious that something is going on between the two of you and,” namjoon paused, “you guys took an awfully long time to smoke outside last week at the saloon.”

at this, your face turned cherry red and you threw a roll of tape in namjoon’s direction.

meanwhile, yoongi was chuckling under his breath, as he let out a low whistle when namjoon just barely dodged your attack. “look, y/n, we’re your friends. we’re also jungkook’s friends. if there’s anyone who can help, it’s us.”

this would have been another excellent example of why you needed some female friends. it was difficult to take namjoon and yoongi seriously, looking like they were capable of doing nothing but cause trouble with their matching vexatious smiles. you rolled your eyes, realizing you had no choice.

“fine. fine! i have feelings for jungkook, are you happy?” you admitted through gritted teeth.

even though confiding in these two idiots was the last thing you wanted to do, that was actually the first time you were able to admit it aloud. up until now, you’d endured teasing from some of your friends, who were insistent on your behalf. you mostly just kept your mouth shut, since you’d been toying with the idea in your head without confirmation. after several missteps and mixed signals, you were finally letting yourself speak the truth.

yoongi’s expression remained unfazed. “okay, that was obvious.”

“hey! that took a lot out of me to confess,” you shot back.

little did you know, jungkook was going through the exact same thing as you. unfortunately, it was one of the busiest times of the year. he was the reigning show jumping champion and paid his entrance fees for the competition months in advance, so there was no way he couldn’t show up. it just so happened that life kept getting in the way, but he was trying.

“he got sad when i told him that you’ll be helping me today, since he’s busy with work,” namjoon remarked, giving you a pointed look.

even with the boys rooting for you and on your side, life still proved to be a major obstacle itself. it was growing almost comical, the way the next few days would pan out. like in the months, every time it seemed as though you and jungkook got close to confronting your feelings, something always got in the way.

when the next day rolled around, you thought today would be the day. as jungkook dropped off jiwon at the farmhouse, he promised that the two of you would talk when he came back later that day for her. it was no problem - except for the heavy feeling in your stomach that you carried for the entire day.

“what’s wrong?” jiwon asked, tilting her head slightly at you.

there was a certain determination when it came to being the best babysitter in the world and most of it had to do with impressing jungkook. you loved jiwon and you wanted to show him that you were good with her. you decided that there was nothing kids loved more than sweets, which is how you and jiwon were stationed in your kitchen making homemade ice cream.

to your left, she wore one of your aprons and it came down to her knees. jiwon stood on a step stool, as she helped you whisk ingredients together and you didn’t notice that you’d been frowning at your phone for the last few minutes. you were reviewing your emails related to the farm, as business was picking up the more established you were.

you smiled, shaking your head at her. “nothing, sweetie. just work.”

at that moment, you heard the front door open. you knew it was jungkook, since it was coming up on the end of the day and he never knocked. he announced his presence, voice echoing throughout the big house.

“hey, it’s me,” he called and you could catch a glimpse of him from where you stood.

jungkook approached closer, hands in the pockets of his jeans. you could tell he just finished riding from his helmet hair, flattening out his jet black locks and he still somehow made it look good. he raised his eyebrows at the sight of your kitchen, where various bowls were sprawled out alongside bags of sugar and fresh milk in jugs.

“we’re making ice cream!” exclaimed jiwon, grinning from ear to ear.

“oh, yeah? nice,” he nodded and glanced at you, impressed.

you said, “we’re just about done. jiwon, why don’t you pop the bag into the freezer? it’ll be ready for tomorrow.”

she nodded with enthusiasm, following your exact instructions. it was a pleasure watching over her - despite her antics at the beach, you saw that she was genuinely a good kid.

“you did such a good job with her,” you whispered to jungkook, as the two of you watched jiwon clean up without being asked. “so polite, so bubbly.”

“i know,” jungkook answered, a proud smile stretching across his lips.

this was the most that you and jungkook had been able to talk in person since the kiss. it was hard to ignore the beating of your heart when you stood next to him, as it only consumed you the longer he was there. his eyes flickered back to you and a meaningful gaze was exchanged.

then, your phone rang.

you furrowed your eyebrows, wondering who could be calling you so late into the afternoon. when you took a look, you saw that it was a vendor from the other part of the country. you sighed, biting your lip.

jungkook noticed. “you have to take that, don’t you?” he sounded disappointed, but he didn’t let it show.

“i do, i’m sorry,” you responded, walking over to where your phone was on the counter.

he waved you off. “don’t be sorry. is it going to take a while?”

“yeah. . .” nothing was for sure, but the business calls you took ranged anywhere from five minutes to an hour and you didn’t want to keep jungkook waiting for you.

you picked up the call, but your focus went elsewhere when you felt a hand at the small of your back. jungkook had taken several steps towards you, chest to your shoulder. your chest buzzed with electricity and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, as the words the person on the other end went in one ear and out the other.

“i’ll see you later,” he whispered into your ear and something about his tone left goosebumps on your arm. it was an immediate flashback to the kiss you shared the week before, where his whispered dare pushed you beyond your limits.

jungkook knew it, too, judging by the satisfied smirk on his lips. the two of you stared at each other momentarily, just standing in each other’s presence and relishing the spark. you cleared your throat, snapping out of the daze when the person on the phone asked you a question.

he then took a step back, as you mouthed the words “i hate you” to him. jungkook chuckled and walked over to where jiwon was, innocently collecting her belongings from the living room. the last thing he mouthed back was “book club.” despite the bad timing of the call, you couldn’t help but smile at him.

xxii. the failed plan

it was no longer funny. there was nothing to laugh at when it came to your luck this week - though, you caught taehyung and seokjin were secretly fist bumping at being relieved of book club and you had to have a small giggle at that. thankfully, it was just a malfunction of the fire alarm and there was no real danger at the saloon. the only danger was you, about to burst at any second for another stolen opportunity to be alone with jungkook.

like the two of you agreed, book club was intended to be d-day. it was somehow the only block in your schedules where you could be together, since work and training with leo came before and after. it was supposed to be a quick sneak away from the main group during the session, in order for the two of you to have a talk.

you were the last to arrive at the saloon where the meeting was taking place, twenty minutes into the season.

“you’re late,” yoongi scolded, but your eyes were trained on jungkook, who broke out in a wide smile the instant you walked in.

at the same instant, a painful blare attacked your ears. you brought your hands up to shield them from the sharp ache, as the boys and the other patrons got to their feet. confused, you looked around.

“FIRE!”

the establishment was small and it didn’t take long for everyone to scramble out into the street. hoping to not get trampled, you tried taking your time, but there were too many people at once.

“jesus, are you just going to stand there?” a voice asked and you felt an arm snake around your back, supporting you from teetering over amidst the sudden movements of others around you.

it was jungkook, who rolled his eyes at you and gave you a gentle push forward, encouraging you to move. you followed his lead, as his arm moved from your back to reaching for your free hand. he grabbed it, clasping his grip to keep you steady and he successfully led you out of the building.

you said, “i was trying not to fall.” you were nearly hugging jungkook’s arm, clutching onto it with your whole body like your life depended on it. it wasn’t that serious of a situation, of course, but this was an excuse to hang onto his muscular body.

“yeah, whatever, you would’ve gotten your face stepped on without me,” jungkook quipped, opening the door for you without letting go of your hand.

the two of you found your friends at the back of the crowd, walking over. you realized that you were still holding hands with jungkook and upon reaching the boys, snatched your hand back fast. your hands went cold when you did and you didn’t like it, but it was hard to ignore the way your cheeks went hot when the two of you walked over, holding hands.

if anyone noticed it, it was hoseok, who sounded too happy for someone who just had their fire alarms set off. “there you guys are,” he sang, clapping his hands together and looking between you two.

“uh, why aren’t you worried right now?” you pushed the feeling of jungkook’s hand in yours away, furrowing your eyebrows at hoseok.

he responded, “huh? oh, there’s not actually a fire. the alarms malfunctioned.”

even though he wasn’t the owner or even an employee, you could make out namjoon talking to his dad a few feet away, likely explaining the situation. somehow, it looked like jungkook got roped into that conversation, now also nodding and speaking to mayor kim alongside namjoon. you sighed. there went your chance.

you walked over to where taehyung and seokjin were. “what a waste,” you grumbled under your breath.

“oh, you sound like yoongi. he was also looking forward to book club, too!” seokjin commented.

on the other hand, taehyung took note of your expression and laughed. “yeah, y/n, you seem real disappointed about book club,” he glanced over at jungkook as he spoke and you could tell he knew why you actually came.

“i don’t think the next meeting is until after the fair, what a shame. . .” seokjin mused, tapping a finger on his chin.

“right, the fair,” you said, kicking a pebble. it was difficult to think about the midsummer festival coming up, with all that was on your plate.

without everything on your mind, you should have been looking forward to the fair. it used to be your favourite part of the summer when you were younger and it was always your and jungkook’s place. you wanted to experience the same freeing bliss you associated with the fair and the summer season, nostalgic for simpler times. instead, it was lost in the shuffle with the farm, jungkook and life in general.

“are you going to ask jungkook?” taehyung’s question was sudden and it made your eyes widen.

“uh, well - “

taehyung smirked. “jungkook’s been telling me since you got here that he wanted to take you, if you didn’t know.”

reflecting on the events of the past two months or so, it was something you definitely did not know. then again, between all the mix-ups and unclear communication, you didn’t know anything until the kiss with jungkook.

“say, taehyung,” you began, pondering deeply. “did jungkook ever say anything else about me?”

“just that he thinks he’s in love with you, nothing much.” it was seokjin who interjected, smacking his forehead. “he says you’re his first love and that he thinks it’s fate that you came back to the valley - i was going to ask you what even happened between the two of you for a falling out to have occurred.”

your jaw dropped. “what?”

“nothing.”

“no, i heard what you said!” you argued, in disbelief that seokjin just said that aloud.

he replied, “then, why are you asking?”

because you were shocked. love was a strong word and it stuck to you like invisible tape. this was your childhood best friend you were talking about and although the kiss you shared was otherworldly, you stood frozen when you contemplated the idea of being in love with him. however, the taste wasn’t foreign in your mouth. you thought about how much you cared for each other, how in sync your energies and personalities were, how you could never get rid of the butterflies in your stomach whenever you saw him.

taehyung groaned and shook his head at seokjin, who held his hands up in defense. “i mean, well, yeah. jungkook may have said something like that.”

“wait, what?” you then turned to taehyung.

“that’s really all he’s ever said about you. talks my ear off about you,” he slowly spoke, looking over your shoulder as if jungkook were to pop in at any second and deck him for exposing their conversations.

you were stumped. “that’s really all he’s said about me?” you narrowed your eyes, thinking of the time jungkook suggested that you ask out taehyung. “so, he never mentioned taking me to the fair as your date?”

taehyung’s eyes widened. “me? no, he’s never said such a thing!”

“that little shit,” you spat, squeezing your eyes shut. “he told me to ask you out! it bothered me for so long, i thought he didn’t like me!”

“what?” he asked, fighting back a laugh. “are you serious? no way, he definitely panicked.”

“yes.”

then, both seokjin and taehyung fell victim to a fit of laughter. there were still others outside of the saloon, gathered and talking about the situation. they looked at you three strangely, including jungkook who gave you a questioning look from afar. you could only glare at him and he cut back to his conversation, as if he knew he was caught. meanwhile, the other two men were still doubled over, clutching their ribs, and you could only swallow your frustrations.

xxiii. the distractions

at first, you thought it was only coincidence after coincidence that kept you and jungkook apart. by the next week, you were certain there was a greater plot against you that prevented your schedules from lining up. you also had a hunch that your friends were in on this plot.

the midsummer festival was now days away and you were growing anxious that you wouldn’t be able to catch jungkook before. you were really, really hoping that you and him could talk things out and have the day to yourselves. unfortunately, it looked as though you were going to run out of time.

it was getting to the peak of the season that required you to be working longer hours and you rarely had a free moment to yourself. on your first day off in a while, you were determined to finally track down jungkook. except, your friends had other plans.

“oh, good morning guys. what brings you here?”

you realized that you had yet to invite any of your friends over to the farmhouse. they preferred to gather at a community space like the saloon and rarely to anyone’s own house - mostly because none of the boys wanted to partake in the cleaning that inevitably came with hosting people. you had yet to visit any of the boys’ houses, apart from jungkook and taehyung. that’s why you were taken aback to find jimin and hoseok at your front door step.

“hey!” hoseok greeted and you immediately grew suspicious at his high-pitched tone. “are you busy right now?”

you’d just texted jungkook if he had any free time today and he had yet to reply, so you figured that you had time to kill. you noticed that they were both holding. . .paddleboards? you stared at them blankly, but shook your head.

jimin cleared his throat. “we should go to the beach.”

“the beach?” you asked, looking up at the grey skyline. it was definitely going to rain and you’d been prepared for this rainy day all week, adjusting your tasks around the farm for the weather, so you were sure it was not going to be good weather.

hoseok and jimin exchanged looks, before the former spoke again. “yeah! paddleboarding!” hoseok exclaimed, holding up a bright red paddleboard.

“guys, it’s going to rai - “ you started. after feeding the livestock, you were looking forward to spending the day indoors with a book.

“ - great, we’ll meet you in the car!”

and before you could say another word, the two dashed off to where jimin’s mustang was parked in your driveway. thinking back to seokjin’s surprise party, you knew something was up. but, you decided to humour them - a mistake you would pay for the next few hours. regeardless, you had the day off and paddleboarding did seem fun. you sighed and retreated back into your house to change into more appropriate attire before meeting them outside, wondering what they were up to.

to no surprise, the chaos didn’t stop there. for one, today was the day you realized you were horrible at paddleboarding. you spent the majority of the time flailing around. second, it started raining, as you predicted.

“run!” screamed jimin, once it started pouring.

huffing and puffing, you used hoseok’s stupid paddleboard as a shield from the rain, as the three of you ran from the water and back to the car. you opened the door to the passenger seat, thinking you were safe. your heart nearly leaped out of your throat when you glanced at the rearview mirror and found seokjin politely sitting in the backseat.

“jesus fuck!” you yelped, jumping out of your seat. “where did you come from?!”

suspiciously enough, neither hoseok or jimin were shocked to find seokjin randomly sitting in the car.

“hey guys! wanna get lunch?” seokjin was too happy-go-lucky for you to dismiss - or maybe it was the fact that he just gave you a real-life jumpscare.

“jin hyung, buddy! nice to see you!” jimin waved happily, as if seokjin didn’t just break into his car. “what a nice surprise. i’m down for lunch, what about you guys?”

you blurted out, “what’s going on here?” you looked at the three of them.

“how’s pizza?” hoseok ignored you, also smiling too wide for comfort.

you were suddenly too distracted to answer, as you patted down your tote bag for your phone. wide-eyed, you began checking your seat and below your feet for any sign of it. while this was happening, the boys seemed to be in agreement without you and as you were looking, jimin already backed out of the parking space.

without your phone, you couldn’t see if jungkook replied to you. did you even bring it with you in the first place? jimin noticed your panicked expression and asked what was wrong.

“my phone. . .” you mumbled, but figured you would be able to grab it after lunch.

you didn’t have time to question seokjin’s sudden appearance because you were worrying about your phone the entire time you and your friends gathered for pizza. however, it was clear that they were trying to distract you the entire time, seemingly throwing more suggestions left and right for what other activities you could partake in during the day. some of them proved too nonsensical to even consider.

deep in thought, the four of you sat by the window of the local pizza place in the valley, while the others talked away.

“hey, why don’t we go for a hike?” suggested seokjin, despite the fact that it was still pouring outside.

jimin then piped in. “or, we could go see a movie!”

“there’s no movie theatre in town, where did you even get that idea?” you responded to jimin, blinking slowly.

then, a buzzing noise interrupted the conversation. it was hoseok’s and he glanced at the screen, eyebrows raised.

“oh! looks like the theatre is closed - y/n, why don’t we take you home?”

and then, as quick as you were pushed out the door, the boys pushed you back out into jimin’s car. you weren’t sure where the need to rush suddenly came from, considering it was obvious that the boys were trying to keep you in one place for whatever reason.

everytime you tried to speak up with a question about their behaviour, someone shot you down by changing the topic entirely. the group had already talked about aliens, princess diana, baseball, and the mandela effect - this was all just during the short car ride home, nontheless. the amount of other random conversation changers throughout the day was endless. you lost count of the amount of conversation topics that were brought up in order to distract you.

“are you reading off a list?” you questioned hoseok, who seemed to be sneaking a look at his phone every time he wanted to interrupt you. you thought you saw the words ‘list of conversation starters’ at the link of the website.

the car came to an abrupt stop, giving hoseok an opportunity to dodge you once again.

jimin jumped in before hoseok could reply. “look! we’re here! have a nice day, y/n,” he said, rushed in all one breath. you sighed aloud, seeing it as a lost cause.

as the car came to a stop in front of the farmhouse, you unbuckled your seatbelt and promptly whipped around from the passenger seat to face the boys. they all jumped at once at your sudden movement. you narrowed your eyes.

“i don’t know what you guys are up to, but i don’t like it,” were the final words you said, as they all pretended to not hear you and waved you goodbye with smiles plastered on their faces.

you grumbled some profanity under your breath when you exited the vehicle and to your luck, the rain mostly stopped. it was now mid-afternoon now and most of your day was gone. the first thing you did was make a beeline indoors, to the living room, where you remembered leaving your phone.

when you arrived indoors, as if on cue, your phone began ringing. at this point, you were well prepared to tell off either namjoon, yoongi or taehyung. stalking over, you were pleasantly surprised to see jungkook’s name flash on the screen. in fact, you were so taken aback that you froze, forgetting where you were and what was happening for a second.

shoulders tensed, you snapped out of it and slowly picked up your phone. pressing the ‘accept’ button felt as if you were setting off an explosive.

“hello. .?” you said, wincing when your voice cracked ever so slightly.

a soft chuckle on the other end made you bite your lip. “hey, bunny,” jungkook’s voice filled your ears.

“hi. what’s up?” you asked, praying to the heavens above that he was calling you because he wanted to see you. you would have done a full sprint to his house at this point, if he confirmed your suspcions.

he said, “you’re home now?”

you played with a random lock of hair, having now sat yourself on the counter and swinging your legs like a school girl. “i am,” you tried keeping your voice steady.

“come out to the back.”

it took everything in you to not scream. he didn’t say more, only hung up the phone after his request. that’s when the panic settled into your stomach.

in a hurry, you speed walked to the bathroom, where you took a full-body scan of yourself. your hair had dried funny after going paddleboarding, salt clumping the strands together. the outfit you wore was a ratty old t-shirt and there was no time for you to run upstairs and change without it being obvious you were changing clothes just to come see jungkook. rapidly, you threw your hair up into a bun and splashed water on your face to snap you out of your anxiety.

then, like nothing, you sauntered casually out the back door. from a distance, you could hear your name being called.

you followed the voice, realizing it was leading to the old tractor garage. confused, you approached closer and were surprised to hear the sound of whirling. as soon as you stood in front of it, you saw that the door was no longer stuck halfway and it slowly raised up, revealing jungkook on the inside.

“surprise,” he smiled, though you could tell he was nervous by the way his hands were shoved into his pockets and he rocked back and forth on his heels.

your jaw dropped. “you fixed it. you fixed the door.”

the tractor garage had been the bane of your existence since moving into the farmhouse, with all the other minor repairs being covered by the man in front of you. you’d attempted to examine it multiple times and figured you didn’t have time for the next little while, despite knowing that you could use the money from selling off the tractor.

like a guardian angel, jungkook stood in front of you, saving you one way or another. this was the first time in over a week that you were able to get a good look at him. he took off his stetson hat once you came closer, revealing his bashful face. dressed in jeans and a flannel rolled up to reveal his tattoos, this was the first time you could admit that he was the source of your racing heart.

“i thought it would make up for all the bullsht i’ve put you through these past two months,” he said, looking down at his feet.

you ignored jungkook and instead, walked right up to him to pull him into a hug. you weren’t sure what overtook you to do such a thing, but he immediately wrapped his arms around you and you melted right into him. jungkook’s addictive scent of sage and leather was unmistakable and you could have indulged in it for forever.

although it was nice to have the garage fixed and have its annoyance wiped off of your to-do list, you were more so touched by jungkook’s gesture to surprise you. like he always did, even when you were kids, he always made it a point to make you smile.

in a low whisper, you said, “you sent those idiots to drive me around town, didn’t you?”

“did they really come up with paddleboarding? i told them to distract you, i didn’t think they would come up with such crazy ideas,” he chuckled into your hair.

it was difficult to pull away, but it was made easier when jungkook grabbed your hand when he did so. locking his fingers around yours, you thought time stopped for a moment.

“i’m sorry about everything,” you said, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his face with your free hand.

his cheeks tinted pink ever so slightly. “it’s been hard to find time to talk - but, would it be too much to ask if you could wait just a little bit longer?”

“sorry?” you responded, confused. the two of you had been going back and forth for nearly two weeks, trying to make time to sit down in-person with one another and he still wanted to delay it? even though you were standing right in front of him, on your day off?

“come to the fair with me. as my date.”

when you were a kid, amber valley meant a lot of things to you. of course, you loved your grandpa more than anything in the world. retreating to the sleepy town away from the city lights also meant two constants: your best friend and the wonders of a festival that celebrated your favourite season. you thought you would never see it again through the years. today, jungkook gifted you both these things once more.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyle @wobblewobble822 @taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx @shellyyy177 @myseokjinji @teddybeartaetae

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #kpop fanfic #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts au #bts series

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lychniis · 2 months

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⚘ ― EVENFALL ! ( valentines day event ).

( # )ㅤ evenfallㅤ —ㅤ twilight ; dusk. the period or the light from the sky between full night and sunrise or between sunset and full night.

syn. a valentines day / white day event inspired by hozier lyrics ( and also seconding as my 1000 follower event i suppose XD ). feel free to drop by and select a prompt from the list below alongside a flower / genre. you could always opt for more flowers. however please note that minors are not allowed to request for / interact with nsfw works. please note that the maximum character limit is three.

this was more of a last minute bout of silliness, but i'd love to write some requests for you guys after supporting me and my bs for nearly two years now XD. so hey hey, my inbox is open to be raided! i'm currently taking this event for genshin impact and honkai star rail!

prompts. the prompts and flowers available are listed below. you can request a single prompt + one of more flowers of your choice! you could also add some additional suggestions if you'd like, say a setting or an au or a scenario! requests close by the 20th of febuary. i'll start posting on white day, march 14th.

daisy — fluff.

hyacinth — angst.

tulip — crack / humor.

orchid — smut.

i. ❛ there’s nothing sweeter than my baby. ❜

ii. ❛ no grave can hold my body down, i’ll crawl home to her. ❜

iii. ❛ you knew who i was with every step that i ran to you. ❜

iv. ❛ some like to imagine. the dark caress of someone else. i guess any thrill will do. ❜

v. ❛ honey, when you kill the lights and kiss my eyes. i feel like a person for a moment of my life. ❜

vi. ❛ i’d suffer hell if you’d tell me what you’d do to me tonight. ❜

vii. ❛ honey please, try to love me. my love will never die. ❜

viii. ❛ know that i would gladly be the icarus to your certainty, oh my sunlight. ❜

ix. ❛ you don’t understand, you should never know, how easy you are to need. ❜

x. ❛ idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword. ❜

xi. ❛ honey, just put your sweet lips on my lips. ❜

xii. ❛ i'm so full of love I could barely eat. ❜

xiii. ❛ honey you're familiar, like my mirror years ago. ❜

xiv. ❛ i know who i am when i’m alone. i’m something else when i see you. ❜

xv. ❛ there’s something tragic about you. ❜

xvi. ❛ there’s nothing sweeter than my baby. ❜

xvii. ❛ still my heart is heavy with the hate of some other man’s beliefs. ❜

xviii. ❛ i’ve known the warmth of your doorways. through the cold, i’ll find my way back to you. ❜

xix. ❛ screaming the name of a foreigner's god, the purest expression of grief. ❜

xx. ❛ i couldn’t utter my love when it counted, but i’m singing like a bird about it now.

xxi. ❛ the only heaven i’ll be sent to is when i’m alone with you. ❜

xxii. ❛ i’ll worship like a dog at the shrine of your lies. ❜

xxiii. ❛ i have never known peace like the damp grass that yields to me. ❜

xxiv. ❛ honey please, try to love me. my love will never die. ❜

xxv. ❛ i had been lost to you, sunlight, and flew like a moth to you. ❜

xxvi. ❛ it’s not my arms that will fail me, but this world takes more strength than it gave me. ❜

xxvii. ❛ i need you to run to me, run until you feel your lungs bleeding. ❜

xxviii. ❛ i will not ask where you came from. i will not ask and neither should you. ❜

xxix. ❛ be still, my foolish heart. don't ruin this on me. ❜

xxx. ❛ honey, i wanna race you to the table, if you hesitate, the getting is gone. ❜

( all the dialog prompts presented here are taken from songs by hozier. i own none of them. )

EVENT WORKSㅤ •ㅤ ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

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vitaminseetarot · 9 months

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PAC: Yes/No/Maybe - 7 Piles

Hey everyone, hope your new moon is going well so far. I'm manifesting some big juicy changes in my life and felt drawn to posting my first Yes/No PAC! I grade the cards on a spectrum of No, Likely No, Maybe, Likely Yes, and Yes. A disclaimer for all my readings of this type: this is a collective reading so take gently, it's reading for your current energy state which you can change through conscious awareness, and you're always allowed to pick as many piles as you want.

With that said, relax, breathe, think of a question or three, and pick a number between 1-7 or any of the fruity images you see below.

(shoutout to @psychedeloscopeart for the Spectrowhirl 1 Ed. tarot deck!)

(images from pexels.com and itstock)

Pile 1

XXI World, Knight of Pentacles, 3 of Wands - "Enchantment"

This looks like a surefire Yes, but you may not see results right away. Keep plugging away at whatever you're doing, and let the beautiful results magically unfold before your eyes. Visualize nothing but the best case scenario happening, keep the fire lit.

Pile 2

Queen of Pentacles, 4 of Swords, XXI World - "Perspective"

I would tag this as a Likely Yes. Slow and steady wins the race here. Not every success story happens over night, but at the same time they may be going more swiftly than even planned. If you feel like it's too fast or slow, just shift your viewpoint a little. No rush.

Pile 3

8 of Swords, 3 of Pentacles, King of Wands - "Grace"

This looks like a Likely No. Something from within is slowing or halting any effort to push forward. Outside support is advised here. You have help around you, don't try to do it all by yourself. The universe will push you along once you're ready.

Pile 4

VIII Strength, 7 of Cups, XI Justice - "Grounding"

This pile is an absolute Maybe. There are way too many factors to consider here and you must be patient with yourself in making the right choice. Impulsive fear-based action will not bode well here. Take all the time you need to sit this one out. The answer will come to you.

Pile 5

2 of Cups, 9 of Swords, Moon - "Desire"

This is a No. A lot of hesitation in these cards, it seems to be asking whether this is something you want for yourself or if social pressures have any play in the matter. Is it for you or for them? Whatever the case may be, you must clear the mind first and then center. Highlight your needs first.

Pile 6

2 of Pentacles, Queen of Pentacles, 6 of Pentacles - "Enough"

This is a Likely Yes, a yes but with a stipulation. Abundance is yours as long as your priorities are straightened out. Don't bite more than you can chew right now. An exchange or offer may be required first, as there is a need to balance something out. Temper your resources and avoid overindulgence.

Pile 7

Knight of Cups, I Magician, 4 of Wands - "Celebrate"

This is a big Yes! It's gonna turn out great for you. Keep the good vibe train going and focus on the best yet to come. A recent lesson you have learned may be paying off to help you in favor. It will work out because you are putting your best foot ahead of you. The past can't get you down. Keep up the good work!

#tarotblr #tarot #tarot community #general reading #pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #pick an image #psychic readings #pick a number #yes or no #yes/no #yes no maybe #intuitive reading #collective reading #tarot reading #free tarot

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stupidkyupid · 5 months

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𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍’ 𝐍 𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍’ － 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ！

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : nari and hyunjae have been entangled in their so-called mutually beneficial arrangement for nearly a year now. it's a classic case, really, a 'friends with benefits' situation where the only rule is to avoid catching feelings. nari sees herself as skilled in detaching herself from her emotions, but that facade becomes harder to maintain when her best friend coerces her into joining what she dubs 'the dumb world of a cappella' as a last-minute recruit for the bellas. suddenly, her carefree nights with hyunjae evolve into passionate escapades, and the forbidden nature of their relationship sparks new emotions. what did she expect? she's sleeping with the enemy, and history shows it never ends well.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : treblemaker!hyunjae x newbella!fem!oc

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : pitch perfect au, smau, romance, humour, drama, fluff, angst, college au

𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 : friends with benefits to lovers

𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬 : complete! | started : 19th november, 2023 | finished : 12th december, 2023

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 / 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 : a face claim will be used (it’s sohee from alice for anyone wondering!), more dramatised versions of the boyz will be used, this fic has no intention to portray their real actions, it’s just for fun. this fic is intended for a mature audience, no direct smut but mentions of sex + sexual jokes, cursing, mentions of drinking, kys jokes, mentions of prostitution, probably more but i’ll try add in anything significant! hyunjae and nari are also the most stubborn + petty people alive so expect a lot of back and fourth (they have a classic on and off relationship which borders on toxic at first), don’t get mad at me for this xoxo also, for some reference, i’ve planned out 22 chapters for this but there may be more depending on what i feel is right! let’s also ignore how i made seulki’s twitter pfp hyewon when her fc is sihyeon 😝

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝗈𝗋 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖺𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗃𝗈𝗂𝗇!)

comments and reposts are appreciated + my asks are always open!!

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬 : alvin and the chiphunks | dilf nation

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 :

i. 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝖺 𝖿𝗎𝖼𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖼𝗁𝗂𝗉𝗆𝗎𝗇𝗄

ii. 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝖾

iii. 𝗃𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖼𝗈𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗇 = 𝗌𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝖾𝗎𝗅𝗄𝗂??

iv. 𝗇𝗈 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖾𝗆𝗈𝗃𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗋𝗂𝖺𝗀𝖾

v. 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗍𝗎𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝖺 𝗃𝗈𝗄𝖾.

vi. 𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖿 𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾

vii. 𝖼𝗋𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍 𝖾𝗆𝗈 𝖻𝗈𝗒

viii. 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗋𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗆𝖻𝗈

ix. #𝖾𝗐𝗀𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗍𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗄

x. 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒??

xi. 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗀𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝗇

xii. 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗉 (𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖾’𝗌 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇)

xiii. 𝗂𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗇𝗂𝗍𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝖼𝗄

xiv. 𝖽𝗂𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍? 𝗂’𝗆 𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖾𝖽, 𝗂 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝖽𝗂𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖽𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍

xv. 𝗇𝗈𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗉𝗎𝗍𝗌 𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝖼𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗍

xvi. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗇𝗎𝗇𝗃𝖺𝖾

xvii. 𝖽𝗈𝗇’𝗍 𝗄𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗈𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖾. 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾.

xviii. 𝖲𝖨𝖬𝖮𝖭 𝖢𝖮𝖬𝖤 𝖧𝖤𝖱𝖤 𝖡𝖴𝖣𝖣𝖸

xix. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖻 𝗋𝖺𝗉𝗌

xx. 𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝖾𝗇

xxi. 𝖡𝖥𝖥𝖶𝖧𝖮𝖯𝖡𝖥

xxii. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝗆𝖺𝖾

xxiii. epilogue

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 : @simpinghrs @zwiehe @deobi0412

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visualtaehyun · 29 days

Text

Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏 ...also, not an expert on tarot and astrology btw djsdhsj

Fortune favors the bold

- XXI The World (-> Earth/Ongsa) = accomplishment, seizing opportunities the universe presents, confidence in one's place in the world - XIX The Sun (-> Sun) = joy, positivity, enlightenment, light illuminating the truth - X Wheel of Fortune = destiny, soulmates, change, growth, the wheel turning in one's favor

ก็เหมือนกับโลกที่มันต้องมีแสงสว่างจากพระอาทิตย์ไง /gaaw meuuan gap lohk thee man dtawng mee saaeng sa waang jaak phra aa thit ngai/ -> โลก /lohk/ = Earth, the world -> แสงสว่าง /saaeng sa waang/ = (bright/brilliant) light

And that's what she's been doing all episode 🥺♥ Sun's brightness and warmth give her confidence!

ชอบสิ /chaawp si/

AAAAAAAAHHHHH this can be read as both 'They/That person does like you' and 'I do like you'

ถึงดวงอาทิตย์ของเรา จากโลกของเธอ /theung duaang aa thit khaawng rao, jaak lohk khaawng ter/

Sun's horoscope

How is Sun a Gemini, you may ask? It's me, I asked, so I went and researched it for everyone lol

In astrology, there's two ways to divide the ecliptic into the 12 signs - tropical and sidereal.

(source)

Western astrology generally follows the tropical zodiac which is based on the Northern hemisphere's seasonal cycle, lining up the equinoxes and solstices with the ecliptic. Vedic/Hindu astrology follows the sidereal zodiac which is based on the observable sky and thus accounts for the Earth's axial precession and the seemingly backwards movement of fixed stars over time, caused by the Earth's axial tilt of ✨ 23.5 degrees ✨

All of this to say- Sun is a Gemini in sidereal astrology!

First contact

Aylin's coming out of her shell!! I loved her this episode, trying to make friends, expressing herself more and being genuinely funny.

มนุษย์พี่นี่โคตรไร้สาระ /ma noot phi nee khoht rai saa ra/ เมื่อกี้น้องว่าไงนะ /meuua gee nong waa ngai na/

-> ไร้สาระ /rai saa ra/ = nonsensical, lacking meaning/substance, which got subbed as "That's bull." earlier in the same scene??, combined with โคตร /khoht/ here, which is an impolite colloquial intensifier, sounds like "You're full of crap, senior human." lmao

1) ฉันกับยัยเจริญพรจะคอยช่วยแกแล้วกัน /chan gap yai Charoenporn ja khaawy chuuay gae laaeo gan/ 2) เจริญพร /ja reern phaawn/ = Yes.

2) Charoen's full first name is เจริญพร /ja reern phaawn/: เจริญ /ja reern/ = to prosper, prosperous, to pray/chant; พร /phaawn/ = blessing, benediction เจริญพร /ja reern phaawn/ is a word used by Buddhist monks for 'yes'/assent/response, just like ครับ /khrap/ or ค่ะ /kha/ are used, for example. There's a whole set of vocabulary/register that's specifically used by and with monks and in the context of Buddhism. 1) Tin calls Charoen ยัยเจริญพร /yai Charoenporn/ several times this episode lmao - ยัย /yai/ stems from ยาย /yaai/ = grandma, and can be used in a friendly way to call a woman or derogatorily (kinda like 'hag', I guess?) It's all in the context but that can be said about a lot of things in Thai language djsdhsjh It's comparable to colloquial ไอ้ /ai/, a prefix for mostly male names, e.g. ไอ้ติณห์ Ai'Tin, to call someone in a friendly or- cursing way:

ไอ้มนุษย์บุลลี่ /ai ma noot bully/

Obligatory 1st person pronoun moments because there's only the two three*, she doesn't use any otherwise:

1) เรา /rao/, 2) calls herself alien again, 3) ข้า /khaa/, which sounds old timey *edited to add her fortune teller shtick

Quick translation of the preview texts

Well... I like [the roses?] That's nice You liking [?] makes me happy Thank you so much, Earth Earth, it'll be my birthday in a few days. If I asked you for one thing, would you give it to me? What is it? Can we meet?

#23.5 degrees #23.5 spoilers #thai gl #ongsasun #aylinluna #milklove #viewjune #milk pansa #love pattranite #view benyapa #june wanwimol #ford arun #earn preeyaphat #local woman harps on about linguistics #i've lost sight of this post's flow with how many times i rearranged and added stuff so if this reads as incoherent- welp.

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slink-a-dink · 1 year

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Vonu - She/Her - Young Adult

[0] The Fool - [XXI] The World

Associated Realms: Isle, Eden

Associated Seasons: Gratitude, Prophecy, Passage

Vonu is one of the first skyfolk, having descended alongside 7 others. Vonu has seen a lot in the years skykids have resided, she holds a lot of interest in the previous civilization. Conversation, research, theories and more, Vonu asks a lot of questions, and doesn't get many answers. She's a tenacious person despite the mystery. Vonu has made strong connections with skykids who also have an interest in the past.

However the reasonings for her interest were unknown to the others until recently. Feeling divided between 2 different worlds, Vonu was originally an ancestor who's death did not result them rejoining the light cycle or becoming a spirit. Her memory is absent, making her feel guilty for forgetting people and places she loved. She was hesitant to share despite her trust. She seeks to learn more about what she has forgotten, come to terms with her lost past, and help the realms flourish once again.

Notable Relationships

Ilosu: With a shared past, Ilosu has helped Vonu with her grief around her lost memories, sympathizing with her. Vonu feels like she can tell Ilosu anything. Despite the original aloofness, they had crossed paths many times and begun leaving notes for eachother. Eventually talking more in person, and now doing most things together. She has a great trust in them, and is forever grateful for how they've helped eachother, they can unravel the past, together.

Acodi: Was Vonu's first friend, and who expressed interest in her research, Vonu still cares for them dearly even if their shared passion has branched off into different paths as of late. While Acodi recognizes Vonu as one of the prophecy students, the same can't be said in return. Vonu adores Acodi for who they are now, and is glad star has encouraged their interests and was the skyfolk who got them going to eden, solidifying her resolve more.

She shares a similar fondness for all her group!

Gratitude Troupe + Amazed Artist (OC): Guardians and teachers, Artist created Vonu's shell in their image, and The Elder of The Isle had blessed the shell with life. The rest of the troupe raised Vonu like their own. Vonu holds a lot of guilt for forgetting them, and it took much later for the Vonu and the group to recognize eachother; As the earlier days were a haze for Vonu, her fear and unceretainty made her avoid most things for a while. However during the recent festivities of fortune, she has been able to reconnect with her family, especially the one who adorns the white rabbit mask, it’s helped her memory a lot too.

Fire Prophet: Vonu's teacher during the sunset years of the kingdom. The troupe wanted to spread light in the darker parts of the kingdom, and thus intrusted Vonu to the prophets, for fear of her safety; Especially since she was lacking rites of passage. Vonu admired Fire Prophet out of the most, hoping to one day be as brave as them. The prophets were like guardians to her.

#sky children of the light #art #my art #sky cotl #thatskygame #original character #oc #vonu #ref era once again garfie babg #alwyad updating them forwver and ever

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myreia · 2 months

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FEBHYURARY XXI: SEASON

In winter, an encounter.

He finds her. Or she finds him. Stumbling her way through the back alleys of the Brume, lugging a greatsword twice her size—Fray’s greatsword—on her back. He is furious with her then, this stranger who burst into his and Rielle’s lives unwanted and unasked, dragging the asinine politics of Ishgard—and the weight of the world—with her. She claims to be a mage, yet cannot spark a whiff of magic. Until her rage takes her. Until she gives herself to the Abyss. Then it comes surging out of her, setting her blade—that blade, cursed blade, holding so many memories—aflame with violet violence. The all-consuming depths of fury and wrath burning, burning, burning, and yet at its core, a gentle warmth. A tender flame. She loves as deeply as she has been hurt, and she is the last to recognize it. This time with her is short. Brief. A moment crystalized in the Coerthan snows. When it is over and she is gone, ascending to the heights of the Pillars with her Scions and her High Houses and whatever other political machinations she has gotten herself involved in, he knows he may never see her again. He wishes he would. For Rielle’s sake, of course.

In spring, a reunion.

It has not been that long. Her hair is longer now, growing out from the shorn cut she told him she gave herself. He does not ask about Ishgard. He does not ask about the Lord Commander, her apparent paramour. Her life has moved on, higher and higher, and the stories he hears of her feel distant from the person he knows her as. They take Rielle to Gridania, soaking in the spring sun and the loamy scent of new growth. In her company, Rielle is happier than he has ever seen her. He is thankful.

In summer, a journey.

It has been two years since he saw her last. She is different now—the fury and the rage diminished to weary numbness. The red streaks have returned to her hair, she is no longer dyeing it. Perhaps she no longer feels the need to hide, to meet the expectations set on her. She is more honest, more raw… He fears something has happened. Something she will not speak of. She puts on a brave face, but inside she is as broken as her shattered soul crystal. As they traverse the scorching russet landscape of Gyr Abania, he wonders how much of this is an escape for her. An escape from her duties, an escape from her role. The further they go, the more she opens up, telling him things in confidence she has not shared with any other. It is on an achingly normal day when the realization hits. A stop by the river, where they set their blades aside and strip down to their underthings to enjoy the cool, refreshing water. As he sits on the bank, pale skin burning in the hot sun, and she looks back at him with that gentle smile… Ah, shit.

In autumn, love.

It starts in an inn on the road to Coerthas. Rielle tucked away for an early night, the pair of them retiring to his room after one too many dark looks from the other patrons. Two dark knights in the darkest corner of the tavern were bound to attract attention. Perhaps drink is to blame for their actions, perhaps not—that first night is a blur of many things unsaid coming to fruition—regardless, the end result is the same. Love that blazes darker than the abyss in their hearts. It’s a poor decision on both their parts. This thing between them—the seed for it sown years ago in bloodstained snows, only to bloom now at the worst possible time—is precious and fragile and must needs be sheltered from the tempest of her life. She is torn in so many directions—Alliance, Scions, Garlemald, friends, allies, enemies, all devouring pieces of her until there is nothing left. He swears he will not place those demands on her. He has become the eye of the hurricane, the calm before the storm. It’s the least he can give her. This happiness is not forever. They know they must relinquish it when they reach their destination. For everything there is a season. And for every season—as certain as the falling leaves—there comes an end.

#febhyurary #febhyurary 2024 #ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy 14 #gpose #gposers #sidurgu orl #sidwol #ffxiv wol #half-elezen #hyur midlander #heavensward #stormblood #aureia malathar #myreia screenshots #oc tag

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devourable · 5 months

Note

drunk cuddly darling + sober yan

sober darling + drunk yan

do yans have any preference on either scenario or is it just no bueno either way

im just gonna simplify this ask down a bit. m!yanderes + f!yanderes x cuddly drunk gn darling 🫶 (no poly/non humans for the sake of my sanity)

⛪️ ;; abe is not the type to drink, never has been and never will be, even if you pressure him to drink more, so while he doesn’t exactly approve of you getting drunk either, he just cant bring himself to be mad at you. not when you’re being so sweet to him! he’s happy that you’re content to just be held by him until you fall asleep rather than get into any trouble that he’s not prepared to deal with. be ready to wake up to a scolding by him though, you could get sick if you go overboard! even if he kind of likes it when you do.

[cw dubcon] 🖥️ ;; god bless any darling who gets drunk around gene because if he can tell you’re inebriated he’s either trying to fuck you or is equally as hammered (if not more). so when you get drunk and start getting all touchy with him he sees it as an invitation to take things further. you wanted the attention, you can’t get mad at how he chooses to give it! it isn’t his fault, you just make really cute faces when you’re wasted. he’ll give you a little apology gift for your sore insides when you’re up the next day — one most likely made up of painkillers and your favorite takeout.

🪶;; it irritates sterling to no end that you got drunk. don’t you know you have an image to uphold? he’s prattling on and on about how he’s sick of your disgraceful behavior and how unbecoming it is for you to waste your time fucking up your brain, until your arms are around him and you’re snuggling up against him. then his words are all caught in his throat and hes tripping through his sentences, half heartedly trying to reprimand you still, but he eventually settles down and (begrudgingly) holds you until you’re asleep. he’ll swear to himself its only this one time; if you remember the next day and try to tease him about it he literally wont talk to you for a week.

💪 ;; valentina had already planned to simply cuddle you till you went to sleep, so the fact that you initiated it makes her elated. she likes how it feels when you squirm in her arms, too out of it to be able to do anything but what she wants. it’s like she’s handling a living doll! she carries you around like one, too, going about her day with one hand and holding you you with the other. yes, it makes doing things way more difficult and yes, the arm she carried you with will be sore for days, but it’s well worth it to her.

[cw dubcon, again] 👑 ;; althea ordered you to go to bed the moment you stumbled into her presence in your inebriated state. when you instead clung to her and insisted on cozying up instead, while it annoyed her, she took it upon herself to make sure you got to bed and couldn’t get into any trouble. but you insisted on her staying with you! and the way you tangled her body up with yours and dragged your hands across her form in a move that couldn’t have been entirely innocent (to her, at least), allie couldn’t help but help herself to your body. you practically owed it to her, anyway; and the way you whimpered and sighed for her proved that you didn’t seem to mind too much anyway.

🥩 ;; rhodes doesn’t particularly care for drunks, they’re used to them being loud and obnoxious. so they’re not exactly happy when they find you after having a bit too much to drink. they’e expecting a tedious night of making sure you don’t hurt yourself or others, so it’s a pleasant surprise when you seek them out for comfort instead. they still would prefer you being sober so you’d be able to better appreciated them taking the day off to be with you, but they’re satisfied with the time you spend with them regardless.

#anonymous #god i had this in my drafts for ages #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere x oc #yandere boy #yandere oc #yandere x you #yandere x reader smut #⛪️ abraham a. ;; the church boy #🖥️ gene e. ;; the hacker #🪶 sterling c. ;; the prodigy #💪 valentina e. ;; the gym bunny #🥩 rhodes w. ;; the butcher #👑 althea c. ;; the princess #xxi ;; the world — asks #xv ;; the devil — my writing

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rollingsins · 1 year

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all hers, part i

summary: “I’d kill everybody in this town before they’d take you away from me.” Tara says, eyes wild. “I’d kill everybody in the world. You belong to me.” ghostface!tara

warnings: (+18), Tara is Ghostface, possessive behavior, vaginal sex, murder of an OC character), smut.

word count: 4.2k

a/n: for anon, who requested some smutty, possessive ghostface!tara. very, very fun to write, let me know if you want me to write some more ;)

Four murders in seven days.

It was a nightmare. You’d heard the stories, sure. Seen the movies. But you’d never thought it would actually happen to you.

That’s what you got for transferring to Woodsboro of all places.

Your phone buzzes as you finish locking the remaining doors. It’s Tara. You smile instinctively as her name flashes across your screen.

where are you? still coming over?

You look outside. It’s dark already, and the thought of leaving the house when there’s a lunatic running around scares the shit out of you.

not tonight sorry, baby. lost track of time. don’t want to leave Chase here by himself.

You contemplate asking her over. Her sister is in town, and you’d been trying to give them some space to reconnect. Sam was with her, you assured yourself. Besides, the last thing you wanted was her leaving the safety of her home and getting attacked.

“YN! Popcorn ready?”

You drop your phone to the counter, check on the popcorn in the microwave.

Chase had been your first friend at Woodsboro High, before you’d met anyone else, even Tara. Since you’d started dating her, you hadn’t seen him much. He’d asked you over tonight - your parents were out and he didn’t want you on your own. He’d had a hankering, in somewhat bad taste, to marathon the Stab movies.

It was nice being with Chase again, even under such terrifying circumstances.

You tell him so.

“You know why that is, right?” He laughs, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Your girlfriend hates me.”

You roll your eyes.

“She does not.”

“Does too. Every time I see her she gives me these eyes.”

He squints, twists his face into an angry glare.

“Like she wants to kill me.”

“You’re imagining it.” You tell him.

Throw a kernel of popcorn at him.

“Uh huh.” He says, turning his gaze back to the movie, “Sure.”

Talking about Tara had always been weird with him. He’d had a thing for you, back in the day, when you’d first met. He’d even asked you out once. But you already had your sights set on Tara and nothing could deter you. He’d taken it well-ish. So you’d thought.

“How are things going with her, anyway?” His voice casual. You look over.

“Good.” You say. “Great. Why do you ask?”

He doesn’t look away from the TV. Shrugs, but it’s tense. Like he’s trying to appear more non-committal. You suddenly feel uncomfortable.

“Just wondering.”

The movie plays a little, you let awkward silence wash over the room. Peer down at your phone. No response from Tara. Maybe you should have gone to her house after all.

“I-” He says suddenly, then stops. Purses his lips.

“What?”

“It’s nothing.” He says. “Nevermind.”

You stare.

“What, Chase?”

“I just get a weird vibe from her sometimes. That’s all.”

You blink, caught off guard.

“You don’t know her.” You say, instantly defensive. “There’s no vibe. She’s perfect. She’s the perfect girlfriend.”

And she was. She picked you up everyday at 8am on the dot to drive you to school. She walked you to class, held your books for you. Showered you with affection.

“She’s possessive.” Chase says. He’s looking at you now. Words spilling out of him like they’ve been pent up for a while. “You just don’t see it because you’re all moon-eyed for her. It’s not normal. It’s like you're her special toy and nobody else can play with you.”

“Stop.” You say.

“She’s isolated you from all your friends.” He continues. “You used to play soccer, remember? What happened to that? What about dance? All the things you used to love. You don’t do them anymore. Your whole world revolves around her.”

You stand up. A lump rises in the back of your throat. You’d come here to watch movies with an old friend, not have him berate you about your relationship.

“That isn’t true.” You say, “With school, I just don’t have time for those things anymore-”

“Because when you’re not in school, you’re with her.” He presses. “And she wants you with her all the time. Like I said, possessive.”

“Great to know how you really feel.” You say. Grab your phone.

“Sorry, YN. The truth hurts.” He slumps back into his seat, stares at the TV again. “Where are you going?”

“Bathroom.” You mumble.

You open your phone when you reach the bathroom, go straight to Tara’s contact.

She’s opened your message, but hasn’t replied.

“Great.” You say aloud. Your perfect girlfriend has left you on read.

You contemplate calling her, asking her to come get you. No. You chew on your bottom lip. You could just leave, chance an encounter with ghost-face. You decide against it. You’re annoyed with Chase, but not that annoyed.

You wash your hands. Head back downstairs. Flick Tara another message.

You’re not mad, are you? Love you. Wish I was with you instead. xx

Chase hasn’t moved. He looks up when you enter, looking a little sheepish.

“YN-”

“Don’t worry about it.” You say. Sink into the sofa, as far from him as possible. “Let’s just watch the movie.”

And you do. Forty minutes of cheesy dialogue and bad acting and not a word from Chase. You like it that way. You keep glancing at your phone, waiting for your girlfriend’s response. But nothing.

The movie’s over. You can hear the credits rolling, but your eyes are drooping. Half gone. Your phone long abandoned, Tara’s reply nowhere to be found. You’re dreaming of Hawaii in the summer. Pina colada in hand. Tara dressed in a bikini, waist deep in the water. Kissing her in the sand, not a care in the world.

Then you hear the crash.

Your eyes jerk open. You sit up. Startled. You look around the room. The TV has shut itself off. Chase is nowhere to be found. There are noises coming from the foyer. Your heart beats, fast. You look wildly around the room. You want something to defend yourself with.

You settle on a small wooden zebra. Some useless ornament only Chase’s mom would decorate with. It’ll do.

You hear scuffling. More crashing. Then, Chase’s voice, shrill - scared.

“Please! Stop!”

Your ears ring. Terror rips through you as you make your way into the hallway, quietly as you can.

Chase is on the floor, writhing, both his hands wrapped around a curved, silver dagger.

Your stomach drops.

It’s Ghostface.

Your bottom lip trembles. You want to run. Scream. Hide. All at once. But you can’t. You’re rooted to the spot, transfixed.

Ghostface raises his arm, steady. Then slams his dagger straight down and through Chase’s chest. Chase cries out. Blood gurgles from his lips. Ghostface stabs him, twice, then three times. Crazed. Possessed.

Your body gives way. You let out a scream. Topple backwards into the hallway cabinet.

Glass smashes around you. Ghostface looks straight at you.

Your back hurts from the fall. You writhe desperately on the floor, trying to get up. The Zebra has slipped from your fingers. Tears tumble down your face.

In your peripheral, you see Ghostface abandon Chase. Head straight for you.

You cry out as he makes a grab at you.

“Stop.” His voice is contorted, unnatural. He’s using a voice-changer. That same awful voice from that dumb movie you’d just watched. You sob as his hands tighten around you.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Don’t struggle.”

You flop out of his grip, kick up just in time to take the Zebra in your hands.

“I’m not here for you, stop-”

Your fingers tighten around the Zebra. You use all your force to smack it hard against Ghostface’s head. You hear him cry out. Fall back.

You’ve hit him hard. He clutches at his head as he falls back.

There’s a clang as his mask hits the ground.

Your breath hitches in your throat. Your chest seizes painfully. The Zebra in your hand slips out of your grasp and hits the floor.

“Tara?”

She looks up at you, her eyes wide, like a deer in headlights. Tears prick at the sides of your eyes. You blink.

She swallows. Stands upright.

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” She says. The voice changer is gone. The sound of her voice makes you want to weep, “Don’t be scared.”

She edges towards you, slowly. As if you’re a baby rabbit that might startle at any moment. You see the gleam of her dagger in her hand. Still wet with blood.

“Tara.” You say again, voice trembling. You take a step back. Panic floods through you. How can this be happening?

“It’s me.” She assures. “You don’t have to be afraid. Look.” She holds out her hand, drops the dagger to the floor. It careens over the carpet. Stains it with blood.

She inches closer. You don’t realize just how close she is before she’s reaching out, tugging you into her open arms. Your body locks up. The shock, the panic, the lump at the back of your throat. Everything spills over. You blubber into her chest as she holds you tight.

“Shhh. It’s okay baby.” She comforts you, hands rubbing tight circles across your back. You want to push her off. You want to run. But you can't, you're frozen, all you can do is bawl. She tilts your head up to her. Rubs her nose against yours. She smells metallic. Like blood. She’s covered in it, you realize with a start.

You tremble.

“Don’t be scared.” She repeats. Strokes her fingers along your cheeks. “My pretty girl. I would never hurt you.”

Her eyes are wild. Pupils blown. No trace of your sweet, loving girlfriend. You don’t recognize the person in front of you. You want her off you. But you don’t dare push her away. She presses you into her. Over her shoulder, you see Chase’s lifeless body. His glassy eyes stare up at you.

“He’s dead.” You say. Tears leak like acid from your eyes. Tara holds you tighter.

“I know.” You feel her lips graze the side of your head. She presses a lingering kiss there. “I’m sorry you had to see, darling. I thought you were asleep.”

A whimper emerges from your lips. Tears fall hot and fast down your cheeks, your hands limp at your side as she holds you. Cradles you.

“Why?”

She pauses. You feel her tense.

“Because they wanted you. All of them. They wanted you, but I’d never let them have you. Because you’re mine.”

And it clicks. There had been four victims so far. The first was Dan and his brother Sam, both boys you’d known since elementary school. Both who’d had crushes on you.

Then there was Aaron, your first kiss. Then Sadie, your first girlfriend.

Your bottom lip trembles. They were all dead because of you.

Tears roll down your face. Your body starts to shake.

Tara shushes you, pulls back only slightly to wipe away your tears. She’s so tender, gentle, you almost forget the bloodied body you’d just watch her maim lying in the corner of the room.

“Don’t cry, sweet girl.” She presses her lips to your forehead. “Here. Look.”

She steps back momentarily. Shimmies out of her black robes. She’s wearing your old varsity soccer t-shirt underneath. Your sweatpants. The necklace you’d got her for your one year anniversary. She looks like herself again. Your Tara.

Your bottom lip trembles.

“See. It’s just me.”

It makes you cry even harder. How could this be real? You’d just watched as your sweet, gentle, loving girlfriend had driven a knife into someone.

Tara. How could it be Tara?

“I know, I know, baby. It’s okay.” Her arms are around you again. She holds you as you sob. Every instinct in you screams to run. To get away from this deranged psycho who just killed your best friend in front of you. But you can’t. She’s the only one you want to run to.

You press yourself into her, tears soaking through her shirt. She cradles you, you feel her lips ghost your forehead.

“I didn’t want you to find out like this.” She says, “I’m sorry, baby girl. I know it’s a shock.”

She holds you a while longer. Until your eyes are red and dry, nothing left to cry. Your heartbeat still hammering against your chest.

What do I do?, You think. Where do I go?

She was calm now, much calmer than you. But that could change in a heartbeat. If you ran, she’d chase you. Maybe even kill you too. That look in her eyes, black, terrifying. You hiccup against her.

What the fuck do I do?

She rubs your back. Draws away from you just enough to wipe the rest of your tears from your face. Lets her fingers linger on your cheeks.

“Come here.” She dips down before you can protest. Presses her lips to yours. You don’t resist. Electricity flows through your body. Your stomach flutters the way it always does when she kisses you. Your body wants her just as it always does. Guilt flushes through you. You draw back, hold her at arms length.

“I can’t.” You pull back, a fresh wave of tears rising. Your stomach turns. “I think I’m going to be sick”

Her hands grip your shoulders.

“It’s okay. It’s alright. Hey. Look at me.” She’s firm, suddenly. You look up at her through glistening eyes. She softens her voice again, brushes your hair out of your eyes.

“I’m going to clean this up.” Her head jerks to the body near the corner of the room. “Then I’m going to clean you up.” She strokes the side of your face. Scratches on your cheeks from the glass.

“And then I’m going to take you to bed and make love to you. Show you just how much I adore you. Alright? Will that make everything better, sweetheart?”

Revulsion rises in your stomach suddenly. Her hands on you feel heavy. Suffocating. Your cheeks flush hot with emotion.

“No. Don’t you dare touch me.” You say. You shake off her hands, take a step back.

The words startle you as much as they startle her. Hurt clouds her features for a moment. She tries to smooth it over, tilting her head.

“Baby. You don’t mean that.”

“Yes I do. I don’t want you near me. Not after what you’ve done.” You back up, pressing yourself against the wall. Part of you wants to make a grab for the dagger but she’s too close. Besides, what would you do with it anyway? You weren’t like her. You weren’t a killer.

Tara blinks. Her eyes fill with something you don’t recognize.

“You’re just confused.” Tara says, voice hollow. “I know it’s hard to get your head around-“

“Please. Go. Just go.”

You’re shaking. Tara stares. Her bottom lip twitches. You recognize what’s behind her eyes this time. Anger. Irritation.

“You want me to go? After all this. After everything I’ve done for you?” For the first time, her voice is trembling. She looks angry. Hurt. Confused.

“For me?” You ask. Your voice rises. “You killed my best friend for me?”

“For us.” She urges. “Don’t you see - there’s no distractions anymore. No one else. No one is going to take you from me.”

She’s moving closer again. You don’t want her near you. You eye the door, move before she can stop you.

“YN!”

You run. Blood rushing in your ears.

She calls your name again, but you don’t look back. The front door is locked, so you sprint for the back. You can’t think straight, can’t trust your own emotions. So you trust your instincts.

Run. Run. Run.

You reach the door, fumble with the handle. Your heart in your throat. You twist it madly, but it doesn’t budge.

“Come on!” You cry out. You twist again, but it’s too late.

You feel her hands on your waist as she grabs you.

You struggle against her, screaming. The sheer force knocks you both over. You scramble up, trying to stand but she’s too quick. Her hands wrap tight around your waist, pulling you back down to her. She grabs your wrists, holds them tight over your head as she climbs on top of you.

“Get off me!” You cry, but she doesn’t. Squeezes you down tighter.

Wild eyes stare down at you. Her eyes, usually the softest brown, are wide, saucer like. Her eyebrows knit together as she pleads.

“Please, baby, stop.” She begs. “It’s me. It’s just me.”

She’s smaller than you, but she’s so much stronger. She’s always been stronger than you. It used to be hot, the way she could hold you down with such little effort. Now, it terrifies you.

You try with all your might to push her off but she only grips tighter. A frustrated sob emerges from your lips. She presses you against the floor. You feel her lips on your forehead as she shushes you.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” She says, voice so tender you almost forget she has you trapped in a vice grip. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Then let me go.” You wail. Your body goes limp. There’s no point in struggling. She’s too strong. “Please, Tara, just let me go.”

“I can’t do that, baby.” She says. Her voice soft, almost apologetic, “I love you.”

You whimper, pathetically. Your mind whirls, going a mile a minute. There’s no way out, you realize. She’s stronger than you. She’s faster than you. And she’s hopelessly and desperately in love with you. She’ll never let you go.

Your breathing evens out.

“I love you.” She says again, voice barely above a whisper.

Her breath is hot, against your mouth. You shudder. She presses her lips to your cheek. Nuzzles her nose into your neck.

“I love you.”

Her lips press into your neck. A hot jolt of energy sparks between your legs. Even now, after everything she’s done you can’t help but want her. You start to cry again.

She tilts herself up. Looks at you, really looks at you.

Gone is the manic, crazy killer who just chased you down a hallway and stuck a knife in your best friend. Her eyes are wide, that soft, sweet brown they always are.

There she is. Your first love. Your high school sweetheart. The girl who had taken your virginity. Tara. Your sweet girlfriend, Tara.

“I love you.” She whispers, a final time. Your heartbeat slows, steady. Your eyes flicker down to her lips. She notices.

She lingers above you only a moment, before she leans down and captures your lips.

Heat flushes to your cheeks. Butterflies erupt in your chest.

Warm, warm, warm.

Is all you feel.

You groan into her mouth. Confusion flashes through you once again.

“Stop.” You murmur against her lips. Soft. Half-hearted, like you don’t mean it. She pulls back.

“Stop?” She asks. Voice low. Like she knows what you’re going to say.

Your breath hitches. Her hands loosen their grip on your wrists. Her weight on top of you suddenly feels erotic.

“Don’t stop.” You whisper, and she claims your lips once again.

Your kisses build, feverish. Desperate. A mesh of lips and teeth and tongue. You loop your hands through her hair, pull her tight against you.

Her hands loop under your shirt, tug at your jeans. You pull hers off first, wanting her hot and naked against you, groaning at the heat of her skin against your own.

All thoughts of Chase are gone as you slip your hands into her underwear. She’s wet already, gasps as you circle her clit. You press warm kisses to her jaw.

She presses you back onto the floor. Tugs your underwear down your legs. Her fingers dip down to your heat.

“Tara.” You gasp. She nuzzles herself into your neck. Presses, wet, sloppy kisses down your jawline. Her fingers brush your clit before she sinks her fingers inside you.

She groans. Kisses you deep.

“Fuck baby, you’re so tight. So wet.”

“Tara.” You gasp. Her fingers curl inside you, her thumb rubbing gently over your clit. She kisses you again. Works her fingers deeper into you.

“Does that feel good, baby?” She asks. Her voice is graveled, thick with want. You moan out as she hits just the right spot.

“You like that? You like my fingers inside you?”

You nod, madly, clawing at her back, trying to pull her closer.

“I like it too, baby. It’s my favorite thing in the world. I’d do anything to be inside you.”

Her eyes are black, hazy, lust filled. You kiss her deeply.

“I’d kill everybody in this town before they’d take you away from me.” She says, eyes wild. “I’d kill everybody in the world. You belong to me.”

You moan.

“Tell me.” She says, “Tell me who you belong to.”

“You, baby.” You gasp.

“That's right. All mine. Every inch of you.” She growls. Her hand movements are steady. Angry. Pounding into you. Your hips jerk with each thrust, your cheeks red.

“Nobody else is going to touch you. Not ever. I’m the only one who gets to do this.” She says. Her eyes are starting to blacken again, jealous at the thought of somebody else sinking inside you.

“No one else.” You pant. “I promise.”

She growls, takes a nipple in her mouth. Bites down hard. Her fingers drive into your pussy.

You moan her name. It relaxes her a little. She slows her pace, dipping down to kiss down your stomach. She nuzzles against your thigh, lovingly.

“Who can blame them?” She says. She reaches up to touch your face, presses a gentle kiss to your belly. Her fingers pump in and out at a steady pace. Her fingers coated in your wetness. “My perfect girl. Always so beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you? I want you all the time.”

She dips down, presses kisses to the tops of your thighs, rhythm steady as she fucks you. A low moan escapes from your mouth as she licks a long stripe down your center, stopping momentarily to wrap her lips around your clit.

Your thighs clench around her head but she keeps your legs pried open. She sucks you only a moment before she’s grinning up at you, debauched, slipping a third finger inside your dripping cunt.

“I wish I could spend every waking moment inside this gorgeous pussy. Always so pretty and tight and wet for me. Always throbbing around my fingers. Squeezing. Trying to keep me in you, isn’t that right?”

Her eyes gleam. Her pretty red lips sticky with your arousal.

“You’d like that wouldn’t you, baby? You’d like me to be in you all the time.”

“Yes.” You groan.

“Dirty girl.” She chides. Her head dips down again, and you throw your head back as she sucks on your clit, hard.

She releases you after a moment. Lips back on your thighs, fingers pummeling up into your g-spot.

Your stomach coils. She sucks on your thigh leisurely, her fingers slamming into you with no mercy.

“Mine.” She says. “Say it.”

“Yours. All yours.”

Her arms grip tight around your waist. She licks her way up your length, not stopping the force of her fingers.

You throb around her, so close. She presses kisses to your thighs as she works you to the edge.

“You going to come for me, baby?” She murmurs, lips on your clit, “Good girl. That’s it, sweetheart. Come in my mouth.”

She sucks your clit, hard, and you topple over the edge.

Your back arches. You let out a low groan as your orgasm washes over you. She works you though it, lovingly sucking, her fingers curled.

You slump back onto the floor as she presses kisses to your belly. She keeps her fingers in you as she leans up, kisses you so tenderly.

“Good girl.” She murmurs. You sigh into her mouth. You can taste yourself on her lips. It’s intoxicating. She presses a kiss to your neck.

Draws her fingers out of you. You whine. She smiles, sucks you off her fingertips.

“Don’t worry baby.” She murmurs. Brushes a lock of hair off your sweaty forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart beat slows. She shuffles herself off you.

Wraps herself tight around your waist, drawing you into her.

Your eyes draw to the robes of the floor. The mask. The dagger. Chase is here somewhere, dead in another room. And you just fucked his killer.

Shame floods through you. Your body tenses. She can sense it. She turns you in her arms, pulls you into her bare chest.

“Shh. Don’t look, baby.” She coos. “I’ll clean it up.”

“He’s dead.” You say. More monotone than anything. In the last thirty minutes you’ve felt every possible emotion you could ever feel. You’ve cried every last tear. You’ve fought and struggled and lost against your own desires. You’re exhausted.

“It’s alright, babe.” She senses your resignation. Presses a soft kiss to your forehead. “Now it’s just you and me. The way it should be.”

She tilts your face up to hers. You let her press a kiss to your lips. Close your eyes.

“I’m all yours, baby.” She says. “And you’re mine. Forever.”

You nod, slowly.

She is, there’s no point in denying it.

Next part

#scream #jenna ortega #fanfiction #mine #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #ghostface!tara #wednesday #wednesday x reader #ah

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bruxadehekate · 8 months

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Relationship advice

Either if you're single or in a relationship, think about your situation, choose a card and allow the Major Arcana bring an advice into your life.

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Results

Spiral Shell: XVII - The Star

In a relationship, this card points towards the beauty, pure and dreaming side of your relation, maybe yours or your partner. Have this as an invite to bring more inspiration and creativity to your relationship, be free to make plans together, to let your routine aside for once.

If you're single, this is a very positive card pointing someone great might be on your way, quite the good omen, don't stop dreaming of someone with good intentions.

Lapis Lazulli: XXI - The World

The circle on this cards represents its wholeness, maybe it's time to stop and admire all the way you've come along with your partner, nurture and cherish your relationship. If you are not quite there yet, great time to meditate and ask yourself: What's blocking your relationship from being whole?

If you don't have a partner and specially if you just got out of a relationship, the World represents also closing the older cycle in order for a new journey to begin, remember both your rights and wrongs so you can do better on your next adventure.

Moon Stone: XI - The Strength

This card is a great advise for any stage of a relationship, the Strength reminds you that no matter if the sun is shining or the storm is thundering, be like this lion, who could so easily break apart the rose in his mouth, but his self control and focus keep it safe in a gentle manner. If your relationship is not the greatest right now, practice handling things with patience and gentleness, it'll be easier for both parts.

Also practice your calm and self control if you're single, learn to hold your own roses with delicacy before harvesting someone else's, or else you might ruin a garden or have your own garden ruined.

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If you enjoyed your advice, consider spreading the word to someone else! I have you have a blessed and delightful weekend 💜

#tarot witch #tarot #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarot reading #pac #pick a card #relationship #relationship reading #witchcraft #tarot reader

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nami-moittli · 5 months

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Twst characters x Major Tarot (AKA: me liking both persona and twst and I have the need to do this, but tarot is nowhere near a persona specific thing)

(Not complete, if you have a suggestion, feel free to add! Also, these may be subject to change, if you think that another card fits someone better, feel free to share!)

0, Fool: Yuu/MC (and Grim, maybe)

I, Magician: Ace?

II, High Priestess: ?

III, Empress: Vil

IV, Emperor: Leona

V, Hierophant: Trey

VI, Lovers: Silver

VII, Chariot: Deuce

VIII, Strength: Epel

IX, Hermit: Cater

X, Wheel of Fortune: Ruggie

XI, Justice: Riddle

XII, Hanged Man: Lilia

XIII, Death: Ortho

XIV, Temperance: Jack

XV, Devil: Malleus?

XVI, Tower: Idia

XVII, Star: ?

XVIII, Moon: Jamil

XIX, Sun: Kalim

XX, Judgement: Rook?

XXI, World: ?

17/24

(I am willing to explain some of my picks, if you ask)

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whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk · 8 months

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Begged & Borrowed Time (xxi, ao3)

Chapter twenty-one: The human queens arrive for their second meeting with the inner circle. (Prologue // previous chapter // next chapter)

(AN: I'll be taking a teensy break from this fic for the next few weeks to focus on Nessian Week stuff! But when we get back... shits about to hit the fan)

The first time Nesta Archeron had found fae beneath her father’s roof, there had been ice on the roads.

Snow had lain thick on the ground, and the night had been dark and depthless— the height of winter. Such a stark contrast, she thought now, as she glanced out of the receiving room window and found the trees bordering the Archeron estate blooming. Fallen pink flowers littered the lawn, scattered across the meticulously clipped grass, and the air outside was laden with the promise of spring, balmy and fresh.

How much had changed with the seasons, she thought as she Elain waited in silence.

From winter to spring— how much had changed.

That first time, that first night, she had taken a seat at her father’s dining table and felt her blood run cold— had beheld Feyre’s newly pointed ears and felt her heart stop dead in her chest. Nesta had been empty, then. Hollow, like there was no space inside her for anything but anger and grief and bitterness. But when Feyre had gone out into the forest the morning after and been attacked by a creature from above the wall…

He’d seen her.

Cassian had seen her, cut through all of the lies to find the truth beneath, and even as they spat and scowled at one another… Nesta had stood by those same windows, looking out to that same tree line, and found herself asking for his name. And against all her better judgement, against everything she knew was proper, she had let him in. Let him ease his way into her heart.

How much had changed, indeed.

Wryly now, she smiled to herself, smoothing a hand down her skirts as she waited for the knock at the door. It came soon after - a brisk knock, Feyre’s knock, echoing through the halls - and as Elain departed in a whisper of silk and perfume to see their sister and her friends inside, Nesta looked once more to the blossom trees swaying gently in the breeze outside. When those branches were bare again, she mused, how much more would have changed? Would war have been and gone, by the time autumn ran its fingers through the forest? Would she watch the seasons change from above the wall, with Cassian by her side? Or would the winter snow settle over nothing but the ruins war left behind, ash and dust in the soil?

“Nesta!”

Feyre’s voice shattered the silence, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet as she stepped into the receiving room ahead of the rest. Nesta turned from the window to find her youngest sister standing before her, a glint in her eyes that hadn’t been there the last time they had met. There was a quiet joy in her voice, and something… different about her. Something that seemed… new, like some patina had fallen away to reveal something shiny beneath. She was practically glowing with contentment, a crown of golden feathers sitting atop her gently curling hair.

“It’s good to see you,” she continued softly, her voice smooth, assured in a way Nesta hadn’t heard before— like Feyre was suddenly more certain of her place in this world. “You’re well?”

Nesta blinked, masking her surprise as she nodded. Rhysand appeared beside her sister, an easy kind of smile on his face as his fingers intertwined with Feyre’s, the tattoos swirling over her fingers so similar to the ones that peeked out from beneath the sleeve of his jacket, cuffed at his wrists. His violet eyes were sparkling, and atop his raven hair sat his own crown, the twin to her sister’s, and as Nesta looked to Feyre once more—

She knew about the bond, Nesta realised.

The High Lord had told her at last, it seemed, and as Feyre smiled brightly at the Lord of Night, she dipped her head before taking a step back, letting him lead her to the circle of chairs Elain had set out before the fireplace. Nesta looked at the way Rhysand held Feyre’s hand, the way he saw her into her own chair before sinking into his own. The way their hands separated for just a moment as they settled, before he reached back across the space between them and linked their fingers together again.

Some kind of envy flickered in Nesta’s gut, but she forced it down as she remained in her spot by the window, the exact same spot she’d occupied the last time the queens had visited.

Azriel entered next, giving her a brief hello, Nesta before scanning the room and checking the windows. The blue-siphoned warrior nodded once to Rhysand - some kind of confirmation, she supposed - before immediately taking up the same place by the door he’d had last time, too. Morrigan was close on his heels, the blonde slipping through the door with a box in her hands. Her grip was tight around its base, and dimly Nesta wondered if that box contained the proof that queens had asked for, if that was why Rhysand’s cousin carried it so carefully, but it didn’t matter— ruby siphons gleamed in the doorway, and Nesta’s thoughts were cut short, abandoned entirely as an all too familiar silhouette appeared from the hallway.

In the distance Nesta heard the sound of Elain locking the front door, the slide of the deadbolt across, but it was quiet, muted, as if every one of Nesta’s senses had shut down. Her heart had simply given up and stopped beating— but when Cassian’s gaze snapped to hers across the room, when he canted his head an inch to the side and gave her a small, crooked smile…

The air between them went taut, damn near trembling, and she wondered if the others could sense it— if it felt that way for them, too. Did they feel the way the space between them seemed to vibrate? Or was it just her world that had stopped spinning the moment he’d crossed that threshold?

The late morning sun drifted lazily across his face, dancing across the scar cutting through his eyebrow and glinting off the earring he wore, and Nesta worked to keep her face blank, even as her eyes dropped to his mouth, remembering the feel of his lips at her neck. Her heartbeat kicked, ratcheted, drawn to him like something fundamental, some base instinct that had her feeling comforted by the sight of those wings, tucked close to his spine as he stepped through the receiving room door.

She’d been horrified by those wings, once.

Now she looked at them and remembered only the way he’d shuddered when she’d dragged her finger along the membrane, soft and smooth beneath her touch.

Illyrians don’t let just anybody touch their wings.

With effort she took a breath, blinking away the memory of that night, the way the lightning had lit the stable up in silver as she lay pressed against his bare chest, her hands wandering, tracing his tattoos as his palms skated over her waist, his touch a brand as she gave him a piece of her soul and he gave her a piece of his in return.

It speaks to trust and devotion.

Gods— she had missed him. Every second they’d been apart had felt protracted, indeterminable, and now he was here, striding into her father’s largest sitting room so easily, so casually, like he hadn’t called her his the last time they’d been together. Like they hadn’t danced on an abandoned dock beneath a sky littered with falling stars.

She glanced to the space opposite Azriel, on the other side of that door. It was where Cassian had stood last time, and the spot she expected him to fill now, but he didn’t even look in that direction. No— he only strode purposefully across the floor and took up a spot right beside her, so close they could almost touch.

“Hello, Nes,” Cassian whispered.

In his habitual leathers, he turned his face an inch to the side, just enough to give her an irreverent, entirely disarming grin. Nesta blinked. Whilst she didn’t think there was anybody left in that damned room that didn’t have at least a suspicion that there was something going on between them, it hadn’t ever been acknowledged out loud. She wasn’t sure she wanted it to be, either, and yet here he was, standing right next to her as though this were the only place in the world that made sense. His arms hung at his sides, fingers inches from the hilt of the dagger at his thigh. He faced forwards, casting an assessing eye over the Archeron sitting room, but Nesta caught the sidelong glance he gave her, dragging his eyes from the crown of her head to the tip of her toes and all the way back up again. It burned— her skin burned beneath his gaze, and as his bottom lip found a home between his teeth, as his eyes still roamed, blatant, over every inch of her, Nesta felt every single nerve she possessed suddenly ignite, like she was nothing but touchpaper beneath his flame.

When she hissed, Cassian smirked.

“What are you looking at?” she demanded, and oh, how different those words sounded now.

It had been the first thing she had ever said to him, a question spat over a dining table, and it felt distant now, so long ago it might as well have been another life. She hadn’t known his touch then, or his smile, or his laugh. She felt a blush crawl over her throat, rising to her cheeks as she held his attention, rapt. His eyes darkened as he took in that spread of colour, a muscle feathering in his jaw as his gaze turned languid.

“Nothing princess,” he hummed in answer, his voice dipping low, a brush of velvet against her skin. “Just admiring…”

His eyes wandered to her neck, following the curve of her collarbone before sliding to her chest. Lower— he dragged his eyes over every single inch of her, pausing at her waist, her hips. Nesta felt her heartbeat stutter and climb, and a smirk tugged at the edges of his lips - those damned lips - as if he could hear the way it pounded, for him and him alone. His teeth sunk once more into his bottom lip, and Nesta tried hard not to think about those teeth grazing her neck, how it felt when he bit into her lip instead of his own. She hissed again, and his eyes danced as they flicked up to her face, lingering on her mouth for far too long, as if he were thinking the same damn thing.

“…the scenery,” he finished, his voice a low murmur.

He nodded to the window at her back, to the trees in bloom along the edges of the estate. Nesta scowled, but Cassian seemed to be suppressing a laugh, his lips pressed tight together as his eyes glittered with mirth.

“Stupid bat,” she muttered, and his expression turned to one of unparalleled delight, unfettered joy lighting up his entire stupid face as that stupid smirk grew even wider. Nesta huffed.

“Is that all you’ve got, sweetheart?”

“Stop calling me that.”

“You like it when I call you sweetheart.”

“I don’t know what gave you that impression, but—“

“You did, princess.” Cassian smirked, folding his arms casually across his chest. “You can’t lie to me. I can hear the way your heart skips.”

Nesta turned her head to look at him, eyes wide. He smirked still, and even though they spoke in whispers, her eyes went to Elain standing only a few feet away, to Feyre sitting by the fireplace, speaking in quiet murmurs with Rhysand, Mor beside them, dark box still held tight in her hands. Cassian quirked an eyebrow, his head tilting to the side.

“I hate you,” Nesta murmured.

Cassian grinned. “No, you don’t.”

Across the room, Rhysand cleared his throat. He shot Cassian a sharp look, an almost imperceptible shake of the head. It had Cassian lifting his chin and straightening his shoulders, settling back into his role as General rather than the rake who seemed to enjoy flirting with her more than anything in the world. He turned his attention back to the room at large, one hand coming to rest idly on the hilt of his dagger, his wrist at the pommel.

But he spared her one last glance, one last look, and his hazel eyes were soft when he met hers, filled with a kind of affection Nesta had never found anywhere else.

“Later,” he whispered softly, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips.

Before she could answer the clock chimed noon, and on the other side of the room, Azriel’s stance mirrored Cassian’s, his hand resting on the hilt of a dagger too. But before his fingers had finished curling around it in preparation…

The queens arrived.

***

Only two this time— only two of them had bothered to turn up.

The eldest queen and the youngest, one with skin like aged paper and one with hair like spun gold, stood in the middle of her father’s sitting room, two guards each flanking them. Rhysand rose from his chair.

“We appreciate you taking the time to see us again,” he began, his voice smooth, courteous.

The eldest queen only sneered and turned her eyes to the window, finding Nesta standing before it. Just as Cassian had, the queen raked her gaze over Nesta’s entire form, but where Cassian had had a glint in his eye and a smirk on his lips, the queen’s face held only disdain.

“After the insult we received last time,” she said, her lip curling, “we debated for many days about whether or not we should return.” Her eyes narrowed. “Three of us found the insult to be unforgivable.”

She waved a hand to the empty space at her side, at the absence of the others. Nesta glowered, and at her side Cassian shifted closer, the edge of his wing brushing her shoulder as he adjusted his stance, so slowly, so smoothly, it was almost imperceptible. His hand wasn’t just brushing his dagger now. His fingers had closed definitively around the hilt, his eyes no longer straying or alight with mischief. He was focused now, all terrifying force and brutal strength.

“If that is the worst insult any of you have ever received in your lives, I’d say you’re all in for quite a shock when war comes,” Feyre said mildly.

The eldest queen huffed, indignant, and it was the golden queen who tilted her head, sending waves tumbling over her shoulder. Her eyes had fixed on Feyre’s hand joined with Rhysand’s.

“So he won your heart after all, Cursebreaker,” she said idly.

Feyre’s expression flattened, her eyes shuttering. “I don’t think it was mere coincidence that the Cauldron let us find each other on the eve of war returning between our peoples.”

“Our people?” the queen asked, raising a brow. “Our people do not invoke a Cauldron. Our people do not have magic.” She shrugged. “The way I see it, there is your people— and ours. You are little better than the Children of the Blessed.” She waved a hand, lowering herself into one of the chairs Elain had set out. Her eyes moved over Rhysand, from the crown balanced on his brow and over to Azriel by the door. She took in the spread of him, his wings, before blinking mildly and looking, finally, to Cassian. She noted the way his wings spread, the way he seemed to be drawn to Nesta as if pulled by an invisible thread. Her eyes dropped to his fingers, still tight around his blade.

“What does happen to them when they cross the wall?” she asked slowly, her voice soft but in no way gentle. “Are they prey? Or are they used and discarded, left to grow old and infirm while you remain young forever?”

Cassian snarled softly, a low rumble in his chest as he drew another half-inch closer to Nesta. She didn’t know whether it was something deliberate or some innate draw that kept him drifting towards her, because he didn’t look at her. He kept his brutal gaze locked on the queen who pursed her lips in distaste.

The eldest queen rolled her eyes. She nodded at Mor, seated in the chair beside Rhysand, golden hair shining and her dress a deep red. The queen nodded to the black box Mor carried.

“Is that the proof we asked for?” the queen asked.

Mor’s face was unreadable, the nod she gave so small it seemed she resented it. Nesta looked to Feyre, whose face had turned ashen, fraught, all trace of her earlier happiness vanished. Her eyes were wide, and as she leaned forward in her chair, her hand slipped free of Rhysand’s.

“Is my love for the High Lord not proof enough of our good intentions?” she said, and Nesta wondered if anybody else caught the desperation in her tone. “Does my sisters’ presence here not speak to you? There is an iron engagement ring on my sister’s finger, and yet she stands with us.”

Elain shifted on her feet, the iron ring on her finger dark against her pale skin, but she kept her head high as the gaze of both queens shifted to her, studying her as though she were a curiosity to be leered at. It made Nesta bristle, the way they cast their eyes over her sister, faces lined with disdain.

“I would say that it is proof only of her idiocy,” the golden one said flatly, “to be engaged to a fae-hating man… and to risk the match by associating with you.”

Her lip curled with contempt, her voice dripping with condescension, and as the queen’s eyes drifted back to the ring on Elain’s finger, Nesta felt the last fragile thread of her patience simply… snap.

“Do not,” she spat, “judge what you know nothing about.”

The golden one looked like she was about to laugh. “The viper speaks again.” She shifted her eyes to Feyre, tsking lightly. “Surely the wise move would have been to have her sit this meeting out.”

Cassian snarled— and there he was, her fearsome general, the man who had ended lives with his bare hands, staring down a queen like he’d love nothing more than to feel her blood dripping through his fingers. He angled himself in front of Nesta, using an arm to push her behind him. Nesta scowled, and looking around the edge of his wing she saw the eldest queen frown, saw the golden one raise an eyebrow, and saw Feyre turn her eyes to Rhysand in barely disguised shock.

But if Cassian noticed - if he cared - he gave no indication.

“She has more of a right than any to be here,” he said darkly, his voice a low, menacing thrum, every word clipped. “This is her father’s house, and she has risked far more for this war than you.”

Nesta took a step to the side, rounding his wings in order to see his face, but Cassian didn’t look at her. He only glared at the queens, coldly furious, and Nesta had never seen him so incensed. Fury burned behind those eyes, and it was as though she could hear his heartbeat hammering, as though she felt every single pulse of his anger.

“You’ll speak to her with the respect she deserves, or you won’t speak at all.”

His words rang with a threat, stone-cold and not at all idle, and it didn’t scare her. Perhaps it should have, but it didn’t. Rhysand only looked at Cassian sharply, violet eyes alight with warning.

The golden queen glared right back, but before she could say another word, the eldest queen huffed loudly.

“We came here for one thing and one thing only,” she said, cutting through it all. She waved at the box in Mor’s hand. “Show us the proof we asked for before we change our minds entirely.”

Rhys nodded, and Mor flipped the silver latch on the box she carried. Inside was a glimmering silver orb, glittering like starlight had been trapped inside. Nestled in black velvet it shone, and Nesta might have thought it beautiful had Mor’s face not been so grave. Had Rhysand and Feyre not gone utterly quiet. Cassian was silent too as he took a step to the side, back to his original spot, but tension still lined every inch of him, agitation laid thick on his frame. It was almost as if he didn’t trust himself not to reach for that blade and cut out the queen’s tongue. His lips were pressed tight together, his fists were clenched, and it was for her, Nesta knew. All of it— for her.

It was a feeling so foreign, so unfamiliar, that she didn’t quite know what to do with it.

For her, he’d damn any hope of diplomacy, risk Rhysand’s wrath. All for her.

At last his eyes slid to her, and Nesta watched as all that tension simply… melted. He let out a breath that soothed all those jagged edges, and his fists unclenched. He offered her a tiny smile, the barest tip of his lips, as Mor lifted the orb from its wrappings, her eyes turning distant and chilled, thrumming with a kind of power Nesta didn’t know how to name. It made her hair stand on end, a shiver running down her spine as the blonde waved a hand over the shining surface of the orb before setting it down on the floor.

A cloud of light and colour seeped from it like a dense fog before settling an inch above the fibres of the rug their father had imported from the continent. Nesta watched in disbelief as a river materialised on the ground— the river where she’d watched the stars be mirrored as they fell to earth. She gasped, and Elain did too, rocking back on her heels as the scene continued to emerge. Suddenly Nesta could see the mountains that surrounded the city in the distance, and a cloudless sky above a line of brightly coloured shops on the riverfront. The sun was shining, and it was a place of colour and life, exactly as Cassian had once described.

Nesta tore her eyes away from the magic hanging thick in the air, her gaze flitting to the warrior by her side. He was facing forward, eyes on the queens, not on the cityscape on the floor, but he shifted just a little, just enough to let his little finger brush the side of her hand. Elain took a step forward, eyes wide, entranced, and all eyes were on that city conjured from light and mist, a mirage on the receiving room floor.

In the silence, Cassian brushed the side of her hand once more, more determined this time. With the rest of the room distracted he took her hand, fingers weaving through hers as his palm slid home, holding her tightly as that foreign city sprawled across her father’s carpet. An inexplicable feeling of rightness spread through her at that stolen touch, and her grip tightened as the city on the rug shifted, the vantage point turning to the mountains that cradled the city. She watched a distant sun shine lazily over distant streets, and she squeezed his hand so hard she might have worried he’d bruise, but—

He only squeezed back, a silent display of comfort. Of support and solidarity.

Then the illusion on the rug shattered— and Cassian’s hand slipped from hers as Nesta pulled away. Her heart ached, but as Elain took a step back, as Feyre raised her eyes and Mor returned the orb to its box and fastened the lid, Nesta clasped her hands before her, like Cassian’s touch hadn’t been there at all.

“That is Velaris,” Rhysand said. “For five thousand years, we have kept it a secret from outsiders. And now you know. That is what I protect with the rumours, the whispers, the fear. Why I fought for your people in the war— only to begin my own supposed reign of terror once I ascended my throne.”

Nesta could think of nothing else except that Cassian hadn’t kept it a secret from her, even when he should have.

The queens shared a look, and for one moment - one achingly hopeful moment - Nesta was certain they would grant them the aid they needed. Just one moment— one that seemed to hold the fate of them all suspended.

And then the eldest queen’s eyes turned cold.

“We will consider,” she said mildly.

“There is no time to consider,” Mor retorted, her voice tight, surprised.

Even Rhysand blinked. “Do you not understand the risks you’re taking?” he asked, his brows furrowing over violet eyes. “This alliance is for the good of all of us—”

The queen let out a derisive snort. “Did you think we would be moved by your letter? Your plea?”

A cruel kind of smile curved her lips, and when she nodded to one of the guards at her back, he moved to pull something from his pocket. In a heartbeat Cassian had half-drawn his dagger. But it was a letter— a small square of paper, a dark Night Court seal broken on the edge. Cassian didn’t remove his fingers from the hilt, though, and the tension only continued to mount, becoming suffocating. Nesta knew she wasn’t the only one caught between fury and shock.

“I write to you,” the queen read, her tone grimly gleeful, “not as a High Lord, but as a male in love with a woman who was once human. I write to you to beg you to act quickly. To save her people—to help save my own…” She tossed the letter onto the table sitting between the chairs. “Who is to say this is not all some grand manipulation?”

The breath left Nesta in a sharp, aching gasp as the queen with the golden hair lifted her shoulders and let them fall in an idle, laconic shrug. The silence was thick and suffocating, a shroud, and Nesta knew every ounce of shock and anger that was storming through her veins was replicated within every one of them in that room. Mor’s face had gone white, and Feyre’s lips were parted in an expression of bleak, despairing surprise. Even Rhysand didn’t bother to mask his shock, and he too was silent as if he didn’t know what to say. Nesta looked across the room and found Azriel’s eyes hard and cold, and by her side Cassian was gripping his dagger so hard his knuckles had turned white. His wings twitched, and she could swear she could hear his heart hammering— or was that just hers?

“What?” Mor said at last, aghast.

The golden queen sneered. “Perhaps the High Lord has crept into our minds to make us believe—”

“Fools,” Nesta spat, interrupting the queen in a voice that burst from her chest, strained and trembling. “Arrogant, stupid fools.”

Without thought, she took a step forward.

Elain reached for her, grasping, her fingers grazing the back of Nesta’s hand— but Nesta pulled herself free, her eyes widening as she kept her gaze fixed on those two queens, content to sentence them all to death. She took another step forward, slow and purposeful, and this time Cassian moved too. But unlike Elain, Cassian didn’t pull Nesta back. No— he took that step with her.

Nesta clenched her teeth, curled her hands into fists by her sides. “Give them the book.”

Her voice echoed in the silence, and in the quiet she could hear the clock ticking in the corner, every second a brutal reminder that time was of the essence, and without that book they were all of them doomed. The steady swing of the pendulum had her heart thundering, every infinitesimal shift of the minute hand her fear deepening. There was no time— no second option, no other hope.

“Give them the book.”

The eldest queen leaned forward in her seat. “No.”

Nesta felt Cassian beside her, knew without looking that his eyes were on the guards, hand on his blade lest any of them - any of them - take so much as a step towards her.

“There are innocent people here,” Nesta said, trying to keep her voice steady and failing when she thought of the destruction waiting for them— when she thought of the harm that could come to Elain, to all the people she’d ever met. “Give us a fighting chance— give my sister the book.”

The queen sighed, but the look she sent Nesta’s way was filled with contempt. Her dark eyes were unforgiving, the slant to her mouth almost cruel as, warily, she waved a hand.

“An evacuation might be possible—”

“You would need ten thousand ships,” Nesta interjected, her voice, her strength beginning to waver. “I calculated the numbers— you’d need an armada, and you expect me to believe that whilst you’re readying for war, you will spare us so many?” She shook her head. “No— you’d leave us stranded here.”

The queen blinked passively, and then shifted that dark gaze to Cassian, standing so close to Nesta that she could feel his warmth. The queen looked at that barely-there gap between them and raised an eyebrow.

“Then I suggest asking one of your winged males to carry you across the sea.”

Cassian snarled again, the sound of it low and vicious and rumbling through Nesta’s chest. His teeth were bared, eyes alight with fury, and as one of the human guards lifted his blade half from its sheath, Cassian smiled— a terrifying, coldly violent and ferocious grin that had the blood draining from the guard’s face. Cassian’s wings flared, the siphon on his chest pulsing and casting crimson light across his leathers, and Nesta could almost feel his rage, that absolute unending fury as the queen turned her gaze back to her, looking at her as though her life were nothing— meant nothing.

“Please,” Nesta said at last, the word sticking in her throat. Across the room, Feyre’s mouth dropped open. “Don’t let us face this alone.”

Tears burned in her eyes, and she wanted to be mortified— but she was too angry, too terrified of what would happen once those queens left. She didn’t let her eyes stray from those two sovereigns sitting in her father’s chairs, wondering how cold they must be, how heartless, to so willingly leave them to die. Her breath shook, her tears threatening to fall, and—

A warm hand suddenly encased hers, and her view of the queens was cut off by large, membranous wings as Cassian rounded her, stepping before her.

A single tear slid down her cheek.

“I told you once before that I’d find a way to keep you safe,” he said, and his voice wasn’t quiet. It was as though he’d forgotten where they were— who surrounded them. When he looked at her like that - like she was the only thing in the world that mattered - Nesta found herself almost forgetting too. “I’ll protect this house and your people with everything I have,” he vowed.

Another tear fell, and Cassian reached up to wipe it away. His fingers didn’t leave her face— he cupped her cheek, his thumb drifting across her cheekbone. Her heart was beating so hard it almost hurt, and her ribs were aching as though something was squeezing, constricting them. Cassian dipped his head, the tip of his nose brushing her forehead, and his voice slipped lower, deeper, weighted with an absolute kind of conviction.

“If anybody touches you,” he swore, “I’ll be the one to start this fucking war.”

Nesta was silent, feeling his thumb brushing across her skin as the heel of his palm rested against the corner of her mouth. His fingertips curled around her jaw, and for a long moment they stood there, neither speaking nor moving. Nesta looked into his hazel eyes and found certainty there, bald honesty and raw emotion that had her wanting to sob, to fall to her knees. He held her there, his promise lingering in the air and stretching between them.

It was Mor who broke the silence.

“Is it money you’re after?” she demanded of the queens. “Name your price, then.”

Her voice shattered something, breaking whatever spell Nesta had been under, and Cassian’s hand fell away from her face. Her cheek was cold in the wake of his touch, and Nesta cleared her throat and took a step back, but Cassian didn’t step away. He stood closer now, closer than before, his wing extending behind her shoulder and curling slightly around her arm.

It was a touch Nesta would never have allowed before— one she would have scorned and pushed away, but—

She needed him. More than ever, she needed him.

“We will return to deliberate,” the golden queen said as Nesta felt her heart sink.

Mor practically snarled. “You’re already going to say no.”

The queen shrugged. “Perhaps.”

And then— in a moment they were gone, just like that. Nesta felt the little kernel of hope she’d harboured crumble, and as her eyes remained fixed on the empty spot where the queens had stood, she willed herself not to cry— not to fall apart.

But when Rhysand rose from his chair, there was curiosity in his eyes, not disappointment. His violet gaze was trained on the chair that the golden queen had sat in, and his lips parted as he ducked, picking up a box that had been hidden, tucked away behind the queen’s skirts. Feyre’s eyes widened as he retrieved it, a soft gasp leaving her as Rhysand lifted the lid.

“Is that—“ Feyre began, her words cut off as Rhysand lifted a book out of the box. It was old, bound in leather, with a bronze clasp, and with the sigh of relief that came from Mor - with the way Feyre reached for the box with her mouth hanging open - Nesta supposed this was the book, the one they needed. Her mouth went dry, and even though she realised that perhaps they weren’t doomed just yet after all, something about the book in Rhysand’s hand made her skin erupt in goosebumps, a chill crawling down her spine.

There was something wrong with it, something unnatural.

Rhysand laid the book back in the box, closing the lid with a snap. When he looked up, he turned to Elain and met her eye before looking to Nesta.

“It’s your choice,” he said, “whether you wish to remain here or come with us. Should you wish to come with us, I’d suggest packing now.”

Nesta looked to Elain. Her sister twisted the ring on her finger, her eyes cast downwards, and as Cassian’s wing remained spread at her back, Nesta said, quietly, “It’s up to you.”

Elain brushed a thumb over her engagement ring. “I can’t,” she whispered. She looked up— first to Nesta, then to Feyre, her widened eyes containing a multitude of emotions, all of them akin to sorrow. “I can’t.”

Nesta nodded. She didn’t look to see Cassian's face, but she didn’t need to. She could practically feel the tension in every line of his body, so close it was to hers. He was wound as tight as a bow string, ready to snap.

“I’ll have men stationed here,” he said firmly, and this time Nesta did look to him, finding his eyes fixed on Rhysand— calculating and methodical, a General’s stare. “They can be here within the hour to protect both this house and—“ he paused, eyes flicking down to Nesta, “—your husband’s.”

His voice dipped as he said the word husband, his lip curling incrementally.

“They’ll be glamoured. You won’t see them, but I’ll have them at the perimeter at all hours. If you change your mind,” he continued, face tightening as though he hoped more than anything that she would change her mind, “all you need to do is announce that you want to cross the wall. They’ll hear you.”

Elain’s eyes hadn’t moved from her wedding ring, but she murmured a soft, “Thank you.”

Nesta said nothing.

There was nothing left for her to say, anyway.

Rhysand cleared his throat. “We should get back,” he said, just a shade too gently. He looked to Feyre, extending a hand before turning to her sisters. “My home is your home,” he added, eyes moving over Elain and shifting to Nesta as Feyre’s fingers settled between his. “Its doors are always open to you.”

His fingers squeezed Feyre’s, and Nesta’s eyes tracked the movement. Her heart tugged painfully, and all she could think was—

“That’s why you painted stars on your drawer.”

Feyre nodded, giving Nesta a smile that seemed far too melancholy, far too close to tears.

“I wish we had more time,” she said, her voice swollen with regret. “I wish I could—“

“Go,” Elain said, lifting her head at last and stepping forward. She reached out to clasp Feyre’s free hand between both of her palms and, bravely, Elain smiled. “Go. It’s alright. We’ll be fine.”

Feyre loosed a breath, and Nesta wondered whether she had seen the way Elain’s hands trembled just a little, if she noticed the shadows beneath their sister’s eyes. She must have, Nesta thought, because suddenly Feyre pulled away from Rhysand completely, drawing nearer to Elain and keeping her hand firmly in Elain’s grasp.

“Come and find me,” Feyre said softly. “If it gets too much, if you don’t feel safe— come and find me.”

Elain only nodded, and Feyre’s gaze shifted to Nesta. Gods, there was so much that was fraught between them, so much that was frayed and so much that still hurt, but... They were sisters, and none of it much mattered now, not as Feyre gave Nesta a weak smile, and Nesta dipped her chin in a small nod. Perhaps she might have stepped forward. Perhaps she might have pulled the pair of them into an embrace. She couldn’t remember the last time they had shared a hug, the three of them, and Nesta might remedied that then and there, but… Rhysand placed a hand on Feyre’s shoulder, and for the first time Nesta saw him hesitate.

“We need to get back,” he said slowly, and Nesta didn’t think she imagined the way his voice had dropped lower, turning apologetic, almost sorrowful. Feyre turned to him, and the way he looked at her...

It made Nesta’s heart ache.

He looked at her like she hung the stars in the sky, like she was the reason the sun broke over the horizon every morning. Rhysand looked at Feyre the way Cassian looked at her, and suddenly Nesta couldn’t bear the thought of them leaving. Nesta wanted to grab Cassian’s hand and never let go, wanted to ask him to stay, to not go where she couldn’t follow.

But…

Feyre pulled away from Elain, one last rueful smile playing across her lips. After a murmured command and a sharp nod from Rhysand, Azriel disappeared into his shadows. He didn’t offer them a goodbye, but the Shadowsinger gave Nesta a brief nod before darkness claimed him, engulfed him entirely.

After the last meeting, Elain had insisted that they stay for tea, but there was none of that now, only movement as Feyre took the box containing the book they had needed from Rhysand’s smooth hands, looking down at it with a stony expression flitting across her face.

Mor made a start for the front door— to be polite, Nesta supposed. They would exit through the door rather than vanishing into nothing like Azriel and the queens. Rhysand gripped Feyre’s hand once more, and as they made their goodbyes, Nesta remained rooted to the spot, and Elain stood in her place before the window, hands clasped before her. Mor was waiting already by the front door, and as Rhysand and Feyre departed, Nesta turned to look over her shoulder, looking at the warrior who seemed unable to move, unable to step away, as if aware, somehow, that the moment he did - the second he left this room - there was no going back.

It was the point of no return, some final threshold being crossed.

A shiver ran down Nesta’s spine. As soon as Cassian left this house, she knew he would be going to prepare for war. She’d known it before, of course. Known for weeks - months - that war was coming, but it had only ever been an abstract concept before, and now it felt more real than ever— closer than ever.

Cassian rounded her, just as he had when she’d stood up to the queens, and reached for her, grasping for her hand.

“Nes,” he began, breathing her name as his eyes searched her face, roaming across her jaw, her cheekbones, the tip of her nose. He met her gaze, that burning hazel pinning her in place. He opened his mouth, but the words seemed to get stuck on his tongue, tangled in his throat. He swallowed, fingers twining around hers as he tried again. “I—“

“Cass,” Rhys called from the hallway. “We need to go.”

Cassian’s eyes turned fraught, and he looked more torn than Nesta had ever seen. She wasn’t used to it, seeing him like this. He was so confident, so arrogant, that when he stumbled over his words and looked at her like he couldn’t find a way to express whatever it was he wanted to say… Nesta felt her heart swell, straining uncomfortably behind her ribs as her hand gripped his to the point of pain.

Don’t leave, she wanted to say.

His other hand went to her wrist, lightly tracing the string of the bracelet he’d given her, the pad of his finger gliding across her pulse. He offered her a small smile, a gentle curve of his lips.

“I have to tell you,” he said softly, and Nesta’s heart thumped. “Before I go, I have to tell you.”

She wasn’t breathing, wasn’t thinking. His thumb still circled her wrist, his other hand still gripping her so tightly it was like he resented letting her go. And Nesta knew what it was he was about to say, felt the words because they were lingering on her own tongue, swelling in her own chest.

“I—“

“Cass.”

In the doorway, Rhysand scowled. Cassian swore soundly as he whipped his head to face his High Lord, and Rhys had the good grace to cringe a little, to look somewhat chastened, but he didn’t back away.

“We need to go,” he said again, but there was softness there that hadn’t been there before, that Nesta hadn’t ever heard from him before.

Cassian’s fingers unwound from hers, his hand rising to lay a palm flat against her cheek. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, letting his lips linger as he eked it out, as though trying to wring from this moment every single second he could. Nesta’s heart hammered against her ribs, rioting in her chest, and as her eyes closed she laid a palm flat against Cassian’s chest, his lips still at her brow. She could feel his heart— felt every lurching beat of it as they stood there, neither of them able to pull away.

“I’ll see you soon princess,” he said at last, lifting his face from hers, and Nesta knew with certainty that that wasn’t what he’d planned to say at all.

It wasn’t a goodbye— but gods, it felt like one. It felt like she was at the edge of a cliff, a breath from tumbling over, and the only thing in the world that could save her was him, those hazel eyes and that arrogant smile, and he was pulling back, pulling away, leaving her to tip over that edge and come crashing down alone.

With Rhysand waiting at the door, Cassian dragged himself away, leaving Nesta standing there, with nothing but the fading warmth left behind from his hand on her cheek.

Come back, she wanted to say. Come back and tell me that you love me.

He didn’t.

He reached Rhysand and looked back, a thousand things left unsaid. It hurt— Nesta couldn’t understand why, but it hurt, watching him leave without knowing when she would see him again.

“Soon,” he whispered— and then he was gone, down the hallway and out of the door, winnowed away before Nesta could so much as take another breath.

Suddenly she felt cold.

“Please stay,” Elain said quickly, and when Nesta turned to her, she found her sister still standing in the same spot by the window, practically shaking, like she’d only just been holding it together, and with Feyre had departed all the strength she’d had left.

“Please,” she said, lurching forwards and gripping Nesta’s wrist, her fingers closing right over Cassian’s bracelet. “Please. I don’t— I don’t want to be alone.”

Nesta nodded. “Of course—“

“I’m still dreaming of her Nesta,” Elain cut in, her voice strained. “Clare, poor Clare. Every night, I see her in my dreams and I—“

“It’s alright,” Nesta said, before Elain could devolve any further into hysteria. “I’ll stay. I’ll tell Tomas that you’re ill and need me with you.” She felt Elain’s hand tremble, but didn’t pull back. All she could do was repeat herself, hoping it might ease the worst of Elain’s fears.

“I’ll stay,” Nesta said again. “I’ll stay.”

Taglist: @hiimheresworld @highladyofillyria @wannawriteyouabook @infiremetotakeachonce @melphss @hereforthenessian @c-e-d-dreamer @lady-winter-sunrise @the-lost-changeling @valkyriesupremacy @that-little-red-head @sv0430

#nessian #nessian fic #begged & borrowed time

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