#I HAVE MANY SOURCES TO BACK UP MY STATEMENT

[ludo-nadir]

My my after an extended hiatus what do we have here? It should be surprising that such a brash individual like yourself is still espousing the exact same detestable rhetoric rooted in radical bigotry as you once were many months ago, and yet the sad reality is that it is not quite so easy for a viper to change its nature.

Once again, the very notion of the phrase "illegal" being foisted upon immigrants is deeply entrenched in xenophobic and racist ideology. I have already stated this, and you'd be wise to read up on it again, as it appears to have not taken hold in your mind.

"Accurate" observation is a laughable claim; from which source do you gain knowledge of these statements you mewl out as if they were fact? What percentage of people are associated with the cartel? How was this information obtained? Are you simply making racist associations by making the abhorrent assumption that anyone of Hispanic descent is inherently tied to criminal activity? Lacking citation or data to support your wild claims, you leave the only possibility that you are spewing wild conjecture fabricated by those with an agenda to villainize migrants who are PoC.

And of course lastly, this very rhetoric you parrot is the very cause of your ignorant stance. To simply tell immigrants to "come back legally". You mention the cartel, it is clear you only see the issue being with PoC from central America. What of people from other countries?

What of naturalized citizens being forcibly deported due to familial ties, or simply because you think they look like criminals?

After all, you so callously show that you associate Hispanic peoples and riots with the Mexican cartel, despite the very real concerns any citizen would have of detention without due process.

It would seem that you have much to learn and unlearn.

You'd best be off by starting with disposing of radical ideologies geared towards obvious racism. Until then, you only make a fool of yourself.

I know people like to dunk on her but seriously do not give Bruce the time of day. She's a racist asshole.

[kawaiialeisha]

the way you react to fanart of wally is hilarious to me 😭 honestly you just say what i’m thinking, i hold back SO much

BHAHHAHHAHSHHDFANHVETU YOU GET IT TOO 😭💔💔💔

LISTEN I CANT KEEP THE SILLY IN ME

MY DEMONS NEED TO BE RELEASED I CANNOT DO THIS ANYMORE /HJ

I RESIST THE INCREDIBLY LARGE URGE TO WRITE A WHOLE PARAGRAPH/ESSAY THAT EXPLAINS EXACTLY HOW I FEEL MIXED WITH LOTS OF SMASHED KEYBOARD 😭

[headspace-hotel]

really disheartening to see how much eco-fascist and eugenicist bullshit has embedded itself into writings about human relationship with nature. I was looking at a copy of a book in the library a while back called Humans Vs. Nature and found this (Discussing early human migrations in the Paleolithic)

To my great dismay, I did not record the source for this claim, But I found these pictures again, and of course I think...How do we know that?

How could we know that Paleolithic hunter-gatherers deliberately controlled their populations by periods of abstaining from sex? That would be incredibly hard to support using archaeological evidence. It seems easier to support infanticide using the archaeological record, so I was not initially troubled by that.

The author is also stating that Paleolithic humans killed their disabled. I have been searching high and low for evidence to support this claim and the closest I've come to any evidence regarding disability in the Paleolithic is this book chapter discussing whether or not it makes sense to assume compassion existed in pre-history. This book chapter gives the impression that the research has been...really dismal.

The two sides of the debate are essentially, "humans probably cared for their disabled in prehistory, because pathologies and injuries are common and they would have needed some kind of care" and "well maybe those people could survive just fine on their own and that's why they lived. We can't prove they were actually disabled."

Not an anthropologist, but I think it's pretty stupid to position a compassionless society as the "null hypothesis," especially based upon chimpanzees. Why would Paleolithic humans be more behaviorally similar to a relative separated by 5 to 13 million years of evolutionary divergence, than to their own descendants a mere few thousand years later????????

But the claim in Humans Vs. Nature isn't just that disabled people weren't cared for, it's that they were deliberately "eliminated," which is a statement with a much higher burden of proof. You would have to find the remains of disabled humans from that time period with clear evidence that they were killed because they were disabled, and you would have to observe this consistently in many sites, to come to the conclusion that it was a cultural norm.

We have many examples of elaborate, seemingly honorable burials for people that were apparently disabled and would have lived a long time with their disabilities. Nothing I've read has mentioned an archaeological record of killing people for being disabled, which would be a glaring oversight, unless it didn't exist, which I'm pretty sure it doesn't.

How did we get to the point where this kind of fucking bullshit sounds so plausible and correct that it makes it into a best selling book without anyone looking it up to see if it's true.

[ari-ana-bel-la]

Heyy Babes Can you please write Dad!Lewis where he loves to spoil his baby and someone questions him about it in an interview or smth like that. Thank youu

Spoiling her rotten

The paddock was buzzing with energy as the drivers gathered around, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation before qualifying. The Ferrari garage was unusually lively today, and it wasn't because of strategy discussions or mechanics making last-minute adjustments. No, the source of the excitement was a tiny, giggling little girl currently waiting in the Ferrari hospitality with her grandparents.

Three-year-old Yn, Lewis’ daughter, was a little bundle of energy, and everyone who had met her agreed on one thing—she was the most spoiled child in the world. But no one really minded. How could they? The sight of Lewis, the seven-time world champion, carrying around his daughter like she was the most precious thing in existence was something no one could resist smiling at.

“He spoils her so much,” Max muttered, shaking his head fondly as they all stood near the Ferrari garage, chatting before the session.

“I think it’s adorable,” Carlos admitted, taking a sip from his water bottle. “She’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen.”

“You mean the most spoiled?” Lando chimed in. “Have you seen the way he looks at her? If she asked for the moon, I think he’d find a way to get it for her.”

Lewis, who had just approached the group, rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the proud smile on his face. “Of course, I spoil my princess. She deserves it.”

The teasing only increased at his statement, with George dramatically placing a hand on his heart. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Charles, who had been quietly listening, chuckled. “I think it’s nice. She’s only three. It’s good that she has a dad who loves her that much.”

Lewis shot Charles a grateful look before turning his attention back to the rest of the group. “You guys just don’t get it. When you have a little one who looks at you like you’re their whole world, you just want to give them everything.”

Before anyone could respond, a small voice called out, cutting through the noise of the paddock. “Daddy!”

The drivers all turned to see Yn running full speed toward them, her tiny legs moving as fast as they could. Her little Ferrari team shirt looked oversized on her small frame, and her curly hair bounced with each step. But what stood out the most was the stuffed pink bunny she was clutching tightly in her arms.

Lewis crouched down just in time to catch her as she jumped into his arms. He lifted her effortlessly, pressing a kiss to her chubby cheek. “There’s my princess. Did you have fun with Grandma and Grandpa?”

Yn nodded eagerly before holding out the bunny for everyone to see. “Look! Daddy got me a bunny!”

The drivers all leaned in to admire the toy, but it was Charles who gave the biggest reaction. He gasped dramatically, eyes wide as he gently touched the bunny’s floppy ear. “Wow! That is the cutest bunny I’ve ever seen.”

Yn beamed, clearly pleased with his reaction. “It’s soft!” She pressed the bunny to her cheek before holding it out to Charles. “Feel it!”

Charles obediently ran a hand over the stuffed animal. “Oh, it’s very soft. What’s its name?”

Yn scrunched her nose in thought before shrugging. “Bunny.”

The drivers burst into laughter at her simple but effective choice of name. “A very good name,” Charles approved, nodding seriously.

Lewis kissed the top of her head. “See? I told you Bunny was a great choice.”

Yn giggled before resting her head on Lewis’ shoulder, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck. “Thank you, Daddy.”

Lando, ever the instigator, smirked. “Okay, but let’s be honest, honey—how many stuffed animals do you already have at home?”

Yn lifted her head, thinking hard before holding up four fingers. “This many.”

Lewis sighed. “She has way more than that.”

George grinned. “And yet, you keep buying more.”

Lewis huffed. “Like I said, she deserves it.” He bounced Yn slightly in his arms, making her giggle again. “I’ll spoil her as much as I want.”

Charles shook his head with a small smile, watching the interaction fondly. “I think it’s sweet.”

Yn turned her bright eyes on Charles again. “Do you have a bunny?”

Charles chuckled. “No, but I think I need one now.”

Yn gasped. “You can get one! Daddy will buy you one!”

The group exploded into laughter at her confidence, and Lewis playfully poked her side. “I spoil you, not the other drivers.”

Yn pouted before reaching for Charles’ hand. “I share Bunny with you.”

Charles placed one hand over his heart, the other one on hers. “I’m honored.”

Yn grinned, clearly pleased with herself before snuggling back into Lewis’ arms. The drivers continued to joke and tease, but there was an undeniable warmth in the group. No one doubted for a second that Lewis’ little princess was the most loved child in the paddock.

And if Lewis wanted to spoil her forever, no one would stop him.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Authors Note: Hey, loves. I hope you enjoy this story. My requests are always open and I'm more than happy to write your story.

-💙🦋

[kestrel-of-herran]

there's sooooo much meaning in mark turning and walking back towards helly and so many layers to the scene in terms of both emotions and narrative implications.

up to this point they both thought they were about to die. mark would get gemma out of lumon for his outie, turn into him and wait on his mercy to be sucked into his consciousness in a capacity that might render him into nothing more than an echo or a ghost, and helena would never turn back into helly because mark scout and gemma would expose lumon and terminate the innies' existance. mark s. is staring at this oblivion when he's staring at the door and the woman he doesn't recognize calling out for a version of him that needs him only for the labor he can provide for him in dulling his pain and earning his money and rescuing his wife.

when the red lights turn on over helly she thinks it's already over, that mark got gemma out and she'll never get to see him again. britt said the alarm reminds her of her escape attempt at the staircase, so this is where she runs to on impulse, for the slightest chance she might be able to see him again.

when she calls out his name it's just a single word to all of gemma's cries and pleas, but it's the only time in this scene when "mark" denotes him, the innie. her voice and the sight of her at the end of the corridor ground him back to himself, remind him he is a person, he has people who care about him and love him and want him because of who he is, not who he could be, and that he has things he wants and people he doesn't want to lose. he might have nothing in this world built just to control him but he has this choice and he has her and their love.

when he starts walking to helly he's made that choice with every atom of his body, but she still doesn't understand, she's thinking maybe he wants to tell her something, maybe he's coming just to say goodbye. it only hits her fully when she sees his expression, all the love and desire and rapture there, all the feeling in his heart, that this is real, that he's making this choice, which means she's not about to die and she's not about to lose him. the girl who didn't want to live half a life has become the only thing he wants to live for. it's this sublime moment of disbelief and relief at the enormity of salvation that can be achieved through your actions when you didn't ever hope you could be saved.

and then he takes her hand, and nothing exists in the world but them anymore. the world was built for lovers all along. he looks at her like he wants to drink her in and she finally lets herself have it, lets herself feel joy and pride and this conviction, my love mine all mine, nothing in the world belongs to me but my love does. and triumph, too, she chose well, she gave her heart to him and he's more than worthy of having it, and love as a source of power and lust for life, if it's the two of them against the world nothing can stand in their way.

the music is enormously important here, it coocoons them in their emotional journey, shelters them from the incomprehensible anguish of the outsider. this moment is only for them, their connection something they built and earned and will continue to fight for, independently and in spite of every controlling entity in their lives.

it's an action that is also a statement, a discovery and definition and actualization of self, i'm this kind of person, i'm the kind of person who wouldn't lose you. it's a rubicon moment, a point of no return which is the start of time, a line whose crossing will remap their world.

what he did is life-defining for both of them, the choice to put themselves and their love first, the choice to say i am a person worthy of life and joy and agency. the triumph of the human spirit over the dehumanization of the dystopian narrative.

[astro-rainbow777]

💐🌸 𝓣𝓪𝓾𝓻𝓾𝓼 𝓣𝓱𝓻𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓼 🧸🌱

♉︎ - Happy Taurus Season Everyone!!! In honor of Taurus season, I am continuing the signs through the houses series. I hope y’all enjoy my findings & this post serves you well. Thanks so much for all of the support! Happy Spring & Upcoming Beltane to the Pagan Community <3

🌸 Taurus in the First House ~ Taurus on the ascendant is the embodiment of peace, calm and pleasure. These natives aren’t the most outgoing but leave such a comfortable and cozy first impression. They don’t say more than needs to be said, however they are unlikely to turn down a conversation. They have a soft and natural beauty about them and strong familial values. They enjoy the finer things, have a clean aesthetic and a “rich” aura. Many of them are shorter or more petitie in size, have a pleasing and smooth voice and kind eyes. However, if you mess with the bull, you’ll get the horns! Being on the opposing end of Scorpio, when they cut you off, it is completely. Good luck getting back into their lives because they are a closed book. Why y’all always smell good? Fr tho

🐂 Taurus in the Second House ~ Here the sign is in its ruling house, they do very well in saving their money, are picky about what they eat and indulge in the material pleasures of life. They value loyalty, commitment, stability and security - not to mention their love fashion & the arts. They will tell you they have the most exquisite taste, you would find it very difficult to change their mind. They hold up strong values and morales, what they know to be right and wrong is the truth. This is a very secure personality, they are very comfortable with their bodies, and have a healthy sense of worth and self love. Honestly such a healthy placement - as someone with NO earth in their chart - muhbenaaaace

💰 Taurus in the Third House ~ These natives find security and peace in their childhood homes, where they grew up, the memories of their cousins and siblings. They could be the most stable or the least stable out of their siblings. The way they think, learn and communicate is slow and methodical. They take their time in studying new topics, preferring to stay on the surface of a topic. They may have an artistic and beautiful singing voice, or maybe the way they speak is just very polite and sweet. They were raised with manners and this makes them very charming. They can have a liking for music that moves at a slower pace, classical music, or just a more elegant taste in art.

🥘 Taurus in the Fourth House ~ Their family could be a source of stability and security for them. The mom, mother figure or more feminine role model can be the bread winner in the family, her love language could be gifts, an amazing cook, and give a lot of hugs 🫂 They have stable emotions, it takes a lot to emotionally sway them. It may end up bothering people who try to get an emotional reaction from them because of this. They can be the most grounded one in their family. Their family may view them as realistic, practical and reliable. Family is what gives them sanction from the world.

💝 Taurus in the Fifth House ~ They express them selves in a very material type of way, their flex is their finances. These natives take a lot of pride in what they have...this usually comes from a place of having to work really hard for their things. They love the natural look, minimalist, they like long lasting, high quality, practical fashion. To them that is the best statement to make. They don’t like that trash to treasure look their tastes are refined. They will shower their kids with the finer things and really enjoy providing for them - this will be their love language. They aren’t huge adrenaline junkies and enjoy more grounded, chill hobbies. They definitely don’t mind being alone and love their down time at home…on the couch…snacks…naps…repeat.

🐻 Taurus in the 6th ~ These natives prefer a slow start to their daily routine, and enjoy a slow paced job, with chill yet organized coworkers. The workplace must be something that they don’t hate… because if they hate it and it stresses them out just thinking of going, they won’t work there. Period. They need low maintenance pets as these individuals are very independent in nature. It’s important for their day job to be a place of peace and pleasure for them, and once they are comfortable, it’s gonna be hard to get them to leave. Their job can provide them with sooooo much stability if they have a good one.

🍨 Taurus in the 7th ~ Wining and Dining with your loved ones! Shopping sprees, luxurious and high quality partners. With the ones they love the most, they spoil, eat and they just want to be lazy with them honestly. They want their relationships to be a place of peace for them. It’s important that their partner can support themselves and is stable on their own. It will just cause them stress if they are constantly worrying about having to take care or mommy their partner. It’s possible that they can stay with someone out of fear of the unknown/change, even tho they don’t like them or it’s not working anymore.

🌷 Taurus in the Eighth House ~ Cycles related to self esteem, self worth, and supporting themselves. Honestly, this is a really hard placement to have- they may have times where they stay in ab*sive relationships because they can’t support themselves financially or they are too uncomfortable alone. However, the eighth house is notorious for taking your greatest fear/weakness and turning it into their super power. You just have to get through those lessons and take those leaps of faith to unlock that power and hidden potential! They like to engage in their senses when they’re intimate with their partners and prefer slow love making rather than the raw primal stuff.

��� Taurus in the Ninth House ~ These people can be a little fixed in their beliefs, their spiritual beliefs/religion can be a source stability and sanction for them. If they aren’t necessarily spiritual- they could just have a specific philosophy or lifestyle that they stick to. What I admire about these individuals, is they know exactly what they want. When they travel, it has to be somewhere where they know exactly what to expect, somewhere that won’t give them anxiety, and probably a more luxurious staycation type of experience. They could also enjoy a nice nature walk with their loved ones.

👛 Taurus in the Tenth House ~ Every single person I have met with this placement neeeeeed a stable job, they will not leave a job if it provides them with the type of lifestyle they desire. It doesn’t really matter what they are doing for their career as long as it aligns with their values. Their dad/father figure could have been the sole provider and could have made a huge impact on their reputation. This is definitely a daddies money placement 💀 - sorry if that’s triggering for anyone lol. The father figure could be super down to earth and chill, enjoy cooking or just be way too overly indulgent in a negative manifestation.

👒 Taurus in the Eleventh House ~ Is the stay at home friend, doesn’t like to get out of their comfort zone to meet new people. Much likely to want to stay inside and bond with their community in a space that is familiar and inviting to them. Their community could be their sanction and be the most stable part of their lives. They enjoy cooking and creating art for their friends. Anything to bring peace to their homies senses! For their friends, the Taurus eleventh house native’s place is a home away from home. How special 🥹

👄 Taurus in the Twelfth House ~ When it comes to matters of the twelfth house, spirituality, isolation, ect. - these individuals may like to keep things light and on the surface. They are comfortable being alone, in fact they consider it to be comfortable and safe. Their spirituality isn’t something they spend time questioning, and they could be very comfortable with the unknown, they enjoy their own curious nature. They are endearing to their own selves, however sometimes their sense of worth could be confusing. They may have a hard time understanding their own values and morals, preferring to just go with the flow, everyday they are a new person trying on different personalities, hobbies and styles! The possibilities are endless! It’s quite an interesting placement. One more thing….secret indulgences…the silent snacker

Smell ya later!

[svt-luna]

It’s my birthday and I need drama 🤭 can I request an article post, maybe just rumors about JeongNa being broken up and the likes and then Luna clapping back maybe a day after with the most PDA JeongNa post in existence with as a big fck you to those rumors. (Maybe even a fan reaction tweet towards it)

ʚིᵋ ⋆ ARTICLE ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── 250704: Soompi Article

first of all— HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NONIE!! hope you have an amazing birthday and i hope this satisfy your drama craving 🤭

the first little filler post amongst a couple more filler post! i have been busy with my personal life, so it’s taking me a while to finish editing the Thirst Tweets post, so i decided to give you guys a few filler post to feed you!! enjoy my lovelies, see you very soon!! 💞

╰ ౨ৎ 250705: Clapback

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ more articles

Breaking: SEVENTEEN members Luna and Jeonghan are rumored to have broken up

SEVENTEEN’s Luna and Jeonghan are rumored to have broken up after nearly six years together, ending their engagement

Speculations are swirling around the K-pop world following rumors that SEVENTEEN’s Jeonghan and fellow SEVENTEEN member Luna have ended their long-term relationship and engagement. After nearly six years together, the couple— often regarded by fans as soulmates— has allegedly gone their separate ways, according to unconfirmed reports.

Jeonghan and Luna, also known to fans as JeongNa are known to be inseparable since their trainee days under PLEDIS Entertainment, were admired not just for their musical synergy but also for their deeply rooted friendship, which blossomed into a romantic relationship.

On September 24, 2024 (KST), the two artists publicly confirmed their relationship and engagement, a rare move in the K-pop industry that was met with overwhelming support. Longtime fans and shippers of the duo celebrated the announcement, many expressing joy over what they saw as a natural evolution of a bond that had been cherished by the fandom for years.

Since confirming their relationship, Luna and Jeonghan had been openly affectionate both online and offline.

Their dynamic was often displayed through Instagram interactions, heartfelt comments, and candid photos, as well as appearances at public events. Luna was even seen attending Jeonghan’s basic military training graduation, a moment that solidified for many just how committed the two were. Their most recent— and now possibly final— public appearance as a couple took place on June 22, 2025 (KST), when they attended their junior group TWS’s concert at Jamsil Stadium. Fans present at the venue shared glimpses of the couple being affectionate, smiling, and holding hands, appearing as in love as ever.

However, recent developments have cast a shadow over what many believed was an unshakable relationship.

According to an anonymous source reportedly close to the SEVENTEEN members, Jeonghan and Luna had been going through a “rough patch” in recent weeks. The insider claims that tensions had been building between the two, ultimately leading to an alleged breakup. These claims remain unverified, but they have nonetheless fueled intense speculation across social media and fan communities.

Fans have responded with a mix of disbelief and concern. While some expressed sadness and shock over the possibility of the couple parting ways, a significant portion of the fandom remains skeptical. Many have pointed out that, without an official statement from PLEDIS Entertainment or either artist, the rumors remain just that— rumors. “They’ve always been private when it mattered,” one fan wrote online. “Unless Jeonghan or Luna say something themselves, I won’t believe it.”

As of now, PLEDIS Entertainment has not released any official statement addressing the rumors surrounding Luna and Jeonghan’s relationship status.

Fans and media outlets alike are awaiting confirmation or clarification regarding the reports. Until then, the future of K-pop’s most celebrated couple remains uncertain.

Stay tuned to Soompi for further developments and official updates.

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[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐ELECTION DAY

summary — in which austin accidentally lets it slip that hasan’s faceless (yet public) girlfriend is the woman they’re currently watching analyse the maps on CNN. 

pairings — hasan piker x politicalcorrespondent!girlfriend!reader

pronouns — she/her

word count — 1893

note — i personally would have “6’4 jacked boyfriend” as his contact name so that whenever weird men try to hit on me they see that but thats just me (and this reader insert ofc) (also this is nothing special just me rambling tbh — what’s to say this political!reader doesn’t become a mini series)

THE DAY WAS HERE. election day. not only was it the day your boyfriend had spent hours upon hours preparing for for weeks, but you, too. you were a political journalist and correspondent currently working the map for CNN during the weeks in the lead up to the election. 

it was a big day for you. four years ago you were streaming your own map coverage to fifteen thousand people on twitch, accessing your sources across multiple states to provide statements on what was going on nationwide. being asked a couple months ago to run the maps in front of millions was certainly a step up, but it gave you control to speak objectively without bias unlike most of the other news anchors and correspondents that were pushing right-wing sentiment over any other coverage. 

you hadn’t seen hasan in a few weeks now unless you counted facetimes and tuning into his streams. you’d get texts while he was streaming and the occasional kaya video ( because apparently she’d been whining with your leave ). it wasn’t the same, but you were both incredibly career-driven people, so being hours apart by plane wasn’t as daunting as it probably should’ve been.

“you’re gonna be late to stream,” you laughed softly, fiddling with the cap of the bottle of water someone had gotten you. endless tabs were open on your laptop in front of you, following aspects of every state because there was still hours to go before the polls closed, so you were only needed in short segments for now to go over 2020 and 2016 county votes in particular states at a time. 

“you’re right,” hasan’s voice was slightly staticky through the phone. “i might have to focus on kornacki or fox news so that i don’t spend too long staring at you.”

“aw,” you let go of your phone, holding it between your ear and shoulder to screw the cap back on the bottle. one of the directors caught your attention across the room, holding up his hand to say that she had five minutes before they were back on air again. “i’m back on in a few . . . i’ll have your stream open on my laptop, though!”

“good luck today,” hasan said softly as he started his stream, leaving it on his opening scene while his mic was muted. people were already flooding in by the thousands. “i’ll talk to you in, what, twelve hours? i love you.”

“twelve hours,” you hummed in agreement, “i love you more,” you sighed softly, noticing that the twitch tab was reloading to take her to his ‘starting soon’ overlay. “good luck.” you ended the phone call first, quickly putting it back on do not disturb and placing it over on the table that was full of analytical notes. the board that now had the map of the united states of america was lit up again, an empty canvas waiting for you to load up the old votes to load up projected blue and red areas.

TOO MANY HOURS TO count and three hundred thousand viewers into the election, hasan was still going strong. despite the pull to watching CNN more than he probably should, he managed to force himself to switch between fox news to laugh at republican propaganda and msnbc. though, he would one hundred percent lying if he said he didn’t have CNN up on his second monitor. 

things were steadily climbing, and josh ( ettingermentum ) was back after mike from PA left the call. josh, who had been raging on ( no seriously, no one had really heard him be that loud all day ) about how the democrats fucked up was finally broken up when austin joined the call, the atmosphere shifting.

christmas sign in full view and a cold slab of a slice of pizza being shoved into his mouth, austin’s discussion on if he was being sent to prison if the republicans dominated was dwindled until josh left the call to analyse the polls for twitter. 

“ugh, can we watch something else?” austin asked, barely swallowing his mouthful of pizza first. “all i’ve done is watch fox today.”

“yeah,” hasan chucked humourlessly, clicking around mindlessly between tabs as he tried to find msnbc’s coverage. because the tabs were so small thanks to the fifty million twitter tabs he had open, he almost groaned in frustration when he accidentally clicked on the CNN tab.

 the tab where you were conveniently fiddling with the data of state of pennsylvania. it was already a dangerous game having you on screen when the chat knew what the silhouettes of you looked like — photos from behind of you walking with hasan, photos of your eyes after he tried to do your makeup, mirror fit checks with your face covered by the phone . . . chat only needed to be railroaded enough to work it out. 

just as he was about to switch tabs again, austin opened his mouth. “oh, man, i miss her,” there was a shift in his tone, more than just him speaking without thinking. familiarity shone through. from the way he casually uttered your nickname to the sigh, it was probably worse than railroading. it was the train forgetting to slam the brakes on worthy. 

hasan wisely kept his mouth shut as he switched to fox news — anything was better than CNN currently — and his eyes slowly zeroed in on the chat. question marks upon question marks until it eventually morphed into ‘holy shit she looks familiar’ and ‘girlfriend reveal????’ to ‘omg face reveal’ and his breathing faltered. 

someone switched the chat to emote only mode in the few moments he was silent for, austin thankfully following suit. glancing at his second monitor, you were still doing your thing, this time discussing the iowa flip from blue to red, completely oblivious. 

“austin,” hasan finally said, tone flat. there was no use making a big fuss out of denying it — that would just make it more obvious. 

austin chuckled nervously, awkwardly. “uh . . . sorry, hasan. i didn’t think about it . . . awkward.”

“clearly,” he grumbled, digging his fingers into his hair for a moment as he thought. the election was put on hold in his mind for a moment as he switched the screen to the full facecam. he wasn’t going to directly deny or confirm anything, so instead he said, “take what you will from what austin said. in saying that, don’t go harass her, clearly she was faceless for a reason. anyway,” hasan cleared his throat, “moving on, back to the election . . .” and he swiftly moved on like nothing ever happened ( while the mods were timing out anyone who asked about it for an entire week ).

“PENNSYLVANIA AND NEVADA ARE expected to be the closest as of currently,” you gestured to the map that demonstrated the slight wave from the blue shift. “we’re looking at about half a percent, but election night is full of surprises so . . . we’ll continue to keep an eye on that for now.” the directors in the back signalled that the camera was no longer live, and you nodded and took a deep breath. the polls weren’t looking as good as everyone had expected it would look for the democrats.

finally off the air for a much needed break, you wandered back over to your little table off to the side. notes were piling up, but upon noticing the spam of notifications flashing across your phone. weird, you thought, your notifications usually not showing up unless it came from verified accounts across all social media platforms . . . until you noticed that it was coming from your private instagram and twitter account. super weird. 

and then the text from hasan. 

6’4 SUPER JACKED BOYFRIEND: uhhh so austin accidentally told 300k people we’re dating 

6’4 SUPER JACKED BOYFRIEND: call me when ur done? so sorry

oh. on one hand the first part was exciting. three hundred thousand? it was a new viewership record for him. on the other? that means a shit ton of people knew the secret you guys had spent almost two years safeguarding. you’d wanted to keep your face out of everything because you had your own career and didn’t want his to intertwine with it. a healthy work-life balance was keeping that shit separate, but it was only really time until people found out anyway. it wasn’t the best kept secret, anyway. 

still, you weren’t mad. you sent off a quick text saying ‘it’s alr’ with a smiley face emoji and shut your phone off completely, shoving it off to the side and turning your laptop back on. you’d be back in california tomorrow, anyway, it could be dealt with then.

THE AIRPORT WASN’T AS secretive anymore. tired after only getting a couple hours of sleep because you got back to your hotel at some god awful hour this morning, it was an instant relief to see hasan waiting for you, dresses comfortably to not draw too much attention to himself — which was difficult because he was fucking huge.

either way, you had no energy to do anything but collapse into his waiting arms, letting him engulf you until you were suffocating. “this is nice,” you mumbled. “sorry i didn’t call, was so tired.”

“you’re fine,” he promised, pulling you back slightly to look at him. “i missed you,” he slipped his hand into yours, and he took your suitcase with his other hand. it was nice to be able to publicly be in his presence without worrying, so much so that you leant into his arm, tiredness dragging your feet.

“missed you more,” you said honestly, but there was more on your mind than just small talk. “where’s austin? motherfucker’s been blowing up my phone.”

hasan chuckled, “if i hear him apologise one more time i’m gonna commit a hate crime.” he then shook his head, “he wanted to stay at the house but i told him to come ‘round tomorrow . . . want you to myself first.”

you knew what that was code for, so you shook your head with a silent laugh. “let me sleep first, god.”

and sleep you did. the house was silent thankfully so you were content tucked up in hasan’s arms, stealing him from clocking in with his twitch chat for ten hours in a fit of selfishness that you were entitled too.

“austin might’ve saved our relationship,” you teased, trailing your fingers up his arm that was tightly wrapped around you, both on the verge of falling into dreamland. “now we can go out on proper dates again.”

“you can tell him yourself,” hasan’s arms tightened around her a little bit more, so full of warmth that the blanket was starting to render useless. “when he knocks our door down tomorrow morning.”

“aw, come on,” you tapped his arm a little harder, fighting the urge to gnaw on his forearm. “you love him.”

“i love you, he’s just my side piece,” he kissed the side of your neck tenderly, “night, baby.”

“g’night,” you mumbled back with a soft smile, the world drifting away for just that little bit longer until tomorrow rolled around. you could deal with your very public relationship then.

[httpwintersoldier]

『sweet little thing p.4 | b. barnes x reader』

pairing: bucky barnes x afab!reader words: it's very long, I don't even know how many parts it's going to have summary: what happens when the guy you have a crush on happens to have a dad, who is older, hotter and rougher? 『 part 1 』 『 part 2 』 『 part 3 』 『 part 4 』

fluff ; angst ; smut

As you stood in front of your university's building, it suddenly looked a lot bigger and a lot scarier. You had no idea if Andy had told everyone else about what had gone down over the weekend, but you felt exposed already.

Each step forward was dreadful, you walked in autopilot. The blur in your vision and the ringing in your ears were such that you didn't even notice your group of friends calling for you. It was only when Jas walked over to you that you snapped out of your hypnotic state.

"Y/N? Is everything okay? We were calling for you..." She asked, searching your face.

You forced a smile and awkwardly laughed.

"You were? My bad, I was distracted." It wasn't a lie, you were distracted, but it wasn't the whole truth either.

Your friend frowned a little, but if you were making up an excuse then it was because you didn't want to talk about whatever you were going through, so she just let it go and brought you over to the place they were sitting at.

Anxiety started building up within you and you couldn't breathe as you approached the group - you didn't know if you were ready to face the consequences of your actions...

Thankfully, Andy hadn't arrived yet, and, from the way they all greeted you and spoke normally, it didn't seem like Andy had told them anything.

Being around your friends eased your mind and body, and, after a couple of minutes, you had forgotten about the reason why you had been so nervous.

That is, until the reason arrived.

"Hello, everyone."

You froze in place. The only available seat was next to you, which was fortunate, because at least you wouldn't risk making accidental eye contact with Andy.

Everyone greeted the friend, you included. He wasn't in a great mood, and everyone noticed - Andy was usually bright and chirpy from sunrise to sunset, however he seemed gloomy and tired, it was very unlike him.

The group ignored whatever was going on for as long as possible, but the conversation wasn't flowing and, at some point, the tension spread through the group and became unbearable.

"Okay, I can't pretend anymore, what the fuck happened between you two? Why is there such an awkward atmosphere in here?" Jas finally asked.

It was obvious, from the change in behaviours that came from the two of you, that you and Andy were the source of it all. The question was genuine and simple in Jas' mind, however she didn't know the Pandora's box she had just opened.

"Did you fuck or something? Was it terrible and now you can't face each other?" One of the guys joked, only furthering the awkwardness.

The friend to his right smacked his arm, but it was too late. Andy's body tensed up and he scoffed, glancing to the side.

"It wasn't me she fucked."

The statement hit everyone like a truck. The whole group wondered what that meant, but from the context clues, they picked up that you had gotten with someone close to him. Your hands balled up in fists and your world started spinning as cold sweat ran down your back.

"Whoa, what does that mean? Did one of you-" One of the guys started, pointing at the two other men at the table, but he was cut off.

"She fucked my dad."

The table went silent. Shock and disbelief painted on everyone's faces, and your anxious eyes skimmed every single one of them, looking for the least bit of sympathy.

"What?" One of them busted out, not fully convinced that he had heard correctly.

"Y/N, did that really happen?" Jas asked, trying her best to sound understanding in face of the situation.

You couldn't look at her. You looked at your hands, still balled up in your lap, and nodded.

"Like once, or?..." Another punch to the man's arm.

"Dude!" One of them called out his friend's ridiculousness and lack of awareness.

"What?! Like you're not asking yourselves the same!" He defended.

"I..." All eyes were on you, you could feel them, you could feel Andy's sorrow and hatred, as well as everyone else's curiosity and confusion "I didn't mean to do it, I don't think he did either. It just sort of... happened. And we kept in contact and..."

You were tying to be as broad as possible with the details, as to not hurt Andy (or disgust him), but he still stood up abruptly and began walking away.

"Andy! Wait!" Courage shot through you as you went after him and grabbed his wrist "I'm sorry, I really am, please... Believe me."

He turned around to face you, his crystal eyes covered with a layer of tears.

"What do you want from me? Forgiveness? Understanding? Well, I can't give you either of them. I liked you- fuck, I still do! So I'm sorry if I can't sit back and support you and... and my dad. So please, leave me alone. Maybe one day I'll get over it, but not right now, not in the foreseeable future."

You slowly let go of his hand, and a little sob escaped his lips. Not a single word was uttered as he turned around and began walking away.

You slumped back on the seat you had been sitting in, surrounded by your friends.

"I should go check on him..." One of the guys said, as he stood up and followed the way Andy had gone.

The others didn't follow, as they knew the boy would feel overwhelmed by too many people crowding him in such a vulnerable moment.

You felt Jas softly place her hand on your back, and you could see from your peripheral that she had told the other two boys to take leave as well. They patted your shoulder as they walked away, their boy-ish way of saying "good luck".

"You know what the worst part is?" You asked Jas, unable to look her in the eye.

She didn't respond, simply letting you air out whatever it was you needed to air out.

"I don't regret it. And if I somehow went back in time, I would do it again." You started "It felt like I was being pulled to him, I couldn't think of anything that didn't include him, and when we finally got together... it just felt so right."

You stopped for a second to catch your breath and wipe the tears. You lifted your head and looked at Jas, that had nothing but a pitiful expression on her face.

"It's fucked up I-I know, especially when I liked Andy. When I started going to his house I was so excited because that meant I was getting closer to my goal, but then I saw Buck- Mr. Barnes, and my world was flipped upside down. I can't pretend I don't know him, and I can't go back and pretend I don't feel like this, not when I see him whenever I look at Andy."

Your friend sighed and shook her head - what a mess. She wrapped her arm around you and squeezed your body, in a show of support.

"I'm not gonna sit here and pretend it's not fucked up to sleep with your friend's dad, especially when that friend likes you, but I'm also not going to pretend you're a villain for following your heart. It's a really complicated situation, Y/N... I really don't know what to say."

"I just... I feel sorry for Andy, but it's not a situation that I want to stop. Bucky is such a great person."

There was a small silence between the two of you, and it was clear Jas was itching to ask something.

"Am I allowed to ask what happened? And how it happened?"

"Holy shit, sweetheart... Rough day?" Bucky asked, as he kissed the top of your head and walked into your house.

"That bad, huh?" You chuckled, closing the door behind you "I guess I look like how I feel..."

You stared at how his biceps flexed as he removed his jacket and tossed it on the couch. When he turned around and saw your eyes fixated on his build, Bucky chuckled. He gently grabbed your hand as he walked to the couch, and pulled you down to his lap. The man's large arms wrapped around you, and his thumb drew shapes on your thigh as you got comfortable.

"You said we needed to talk, everything okay?" There was a glimpse of worry in his eyes, and a hint of concern in his voice as he asked that.

"My group of friends know about it..." You simply said.

Bucky's grip on you tightened at those words, and his body stiffened.

"Are you okay? What did they say?"

You sighed and turned to look at him.

"They were perplexed, mostly. And confused. I don't blame them for that... Things were a bit tense the rest of the day, the group was pretty separated, I don't think anyone knows how to feel about the whole thing."

"They didn't give you a rough time?"

You shook your head negatively.

"I think I'm the one giving myself the hardest time, it's weird. I feel guilty, but I would still have done it if we turned back in time." Bucky smiled a little at the confession, and kissed your temple lovingly. "How about you? How's Andy treating you?"

Bucky sighed, there had been a lot of that going around you recently.

"The first day he didn't sleep at home, I don't know where he slept and I was worrying all night, but if I called he wouldn't have picked up, and if I texted he wouldn't have replied, probably would have pissed him off more... He sleeps there now, at least, I try to talk to him but he's still hurting..." The man paused and swallowed, trying not to cry "I broke his trust, I know it's going to take time, but fuck, it hurts. I can't imagine how he's feeling, and it sucks not being able to be there for him 'cause I'm the source of it all but I haven't felt this way about someone in a long time. I feel like a damn school boy around you, Y/N."

Tears gathered in your eyes as you got to see the vulnerable side of someone like Bucky - a big, strong army man that almost looked mean and cold when you first saw him. You pulled his head against your chest and pet his head.

"His anger towards you will pass, you didn't know he liked you. What I did was worse, I knew exactly what he wanted, and I took it from him."

"His anger towards you will also pass, Bucky..."

He looked up at you with those beautiful eyes, now tear-stained and pain-stricken. The sight was a beautiful tragedy... You wiped away his tears with the sleeve of your sweater.

"How can you be so sure?"

"You're his dad, that bond is a lot deeper than some girl." You joked, with a small laugh.

"I don't think you realize just how special you are, and how much the simple thought of losing you hurts."

You and Bucky had spent too much time crying and thinking about all of the things that had gone down the past weekend, so when his army pal hit him up and asked him if he wanted to go for a drink, he found it to be the perfect escape for the night.

He didn't want to leave you alone, but you insisted that you'd need a long shower (and some makeup) and that it would take time, more time than you wanted him to wait, so you assure him you were fine and told him you'd meet him there.

Admittedly, you felt uncomfortable walking into the bar, it was a stereotypical "manly" place, with a pool table, chairs that dated back to before you were born, and no sight of a drink that wasn't a beer or a whiskey. You weren't dressed appropriately, you figured, as your little red dress (that you had worn to tease Bucky) was drawing a lot of attention.

You spotted "Mr. Barnes" near the bar, talking to two men and walked over to him, avoiding the stares and comments from the random men around you.

"Come on Buck, she's what? Twenty? What do you even talk about? What do you even have in common?" The tall, blonde man that Bucky was talking to said.

You held back a smile and placed one arm around Bucky's waist. He hadn't seen you coming, since his back was facing the door, but the man's face instantly lit up when he looked found that the person touching him was you.

"I'd say we have some... tastes in common, so to speak." You said, with a smile, winking at the blonde that instantly went red.

Bucky smirked at the dirty joke, and his expression was one of pride. One of his hands tapped your butt lightly, as if saying "good job", and you smiled.

You didn't take the man's comment in the wrong way, you were sure he was just looking out for his friend, but it did kind of hurt your ego that he thought you were some airhead with no real content to herself just because of your age.

"Y/N, that's Steve, my best-friend, we were in the army together," Bucky began, hinting at the tall blonde in front of him, whose face was red with embarrassment "and that's Sam. I don't like him, but he's always around."

"Real nice, Buck." Sam said, making Bucky smile faintly, a smile that he discreetly hid by taking a sip of whiskey.

"I'm sorry about my comment, miss."

"That's okay, sir," you said, mocking how proper the man sounded "I know there's a big age difference between us, but I like the guy."

Steve smiled softly, still embarrassed he'd been caught in that situation, but glad you hadn't taken offense to the comment.

"What are you drinking, sweetheart?" Bucky asked you, and although he was talking to you, his gaze was everywhere but on your eyes.

You had no idea how many drinks he had had before your arrival, but he didn't even try to hide his hungry gaze as his eyes fixated on several parts of your body.

"Espresso Martini?" You asked.

"Ooh she's a fancy one. I don't think they do anything here that mixes more than two drinks." Sam joked with a laugh.

"Didn't think so either," you laughed "but it was worth a try! I'll have a vodka redbull, then."

"Comin' right up, sweetheart." Bucky said, and turned to the bar to order.

"So, he told us how you met..." There was a hint of awkwardness in Steve's voice as he said that.

"Not under the best pretext, no..." You replied, nervously fixing your hair "It's a little awkward as it is, but I'm hoping for a good outcome."

"Sounds like you're here to stay." Sam chirped in, with a suggestive face.

"I sure hope she is!" Bucky's voice was lower than usual, his eyes were half-lidded and his cheeks were a pretty pink colour.

The man pressed a kiss to your temple and circled your waist with his arm as he handed you your drink. You giggled at his roaming hand and stared at him.

"How many of those have you had?" You asked, pointing at his cup.

Bucky looked at his drink and shrugged. You and his friends shared a laugh at his state - it was obvious that Steve was also not at 100% capacity, and Sam walked towards the same state, you'd just have to catch up to them.

You hadn't eaten much before leaving the house, as you didn't want Bucky and his friends to wait for you for too long, so a couple drinks (mixed with the fact that the bartender had been going 50/50 on the vodka and redbull quantities) had you in the same state as the trio.

Your body leaned against Bucky's for extra balance, and the latter didn't mind the closeness at all. The four of you were having a fun time, laughing at the old war stories and anecdotes from the young James Barnes and sharing stories, when a group of four men approached you.

"Hey there princess, how about you ditch the fossils and come hang out with us, we can show you a real good time."

They looked out of place in the bar (although so did you) - they wore different polo shirts and tight jeans, too tight for their own good, you reckoned. They weren't too tall, but their muscular build certainly asserted dominance.

You could feel Bucky's body tense behind you, and you could see from your peripheral how the three men sized up the other men with their eyes.

"I don't... I don't think I will."

"What? You want to spend your night with grandpa?" The tallest of the trio, a bald man with tattoos on his arms, scoffed and walked towards you, placing his arm on your shoulder.

He didn't even have time to continue his sentence, Bucky slammed down his drink and gripped the man's hand. The male forcefully removed the other guy from you, twisting his arm behind his back and kicking him in the back of the leg, causing his knees to buckle.

"I believe she said no, Caillou." Bucky growled through gritted teeth.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, old man?! Think you can fight?" Another one of them asked, pulling Bucky up by the collar of his shirt.

Before a third one could join in, Steve let go of his drink and stood in front of the man.

"Going somewhere, pal?" Steve asked, with a small smirk that displayed not happiness, but adrenaline.

"Come on, I wouldn't want to scratch up your pretty face." The other male mocked, patting Steve's cheek lightly.

Bucky's best friend simply laughed, before punching his opponent, whom stumbled back. He then threw another punch to the side of the man's face, the side that was not covered by his palms, and delivered a blow to the man's stomach, which sent him stumbling back.

"I wouldn't worry about it." Steve mocked back, looking at the man, crouching on the floor while holding his torso and face.

Bucky kept the guy that had touched you on the floor, but two others were on him. He punched and kicked, but it was a 2 versus 1 situation, and so Bucky got handed some devastating blows.

"I gotta get new friends..." Sam said, upon seeing the scene, before downing his drink in one go and stepping forward into the fight.

All you could do was stand there and watch, with a horrified expression and hands over your chest, as your boyfriend and his friends became a mess of flying wrists and arms.

Your head was spinning and you didn't know what to do, but one thing was for certain: seeing Bucky fight so wildly to defend you and your peace... it was hot.

"I'm really sorry guys... I didn't mean to cause all that." You apologized sincerely.

"Are you kidding?" Bucky scoffed "Those guys had it coming."

"Yeah, plus, it was kind of fun." Steve agreed, much to your surprise "I wish we hadn't gotten banned from the bar but..."

"I wish we hadn't gotten beaten up." Sam chimed in, making everyone laugh.

After being kicked out of the bar, none of you was in a decent state to drive home, so you just decided to walk - to sober up and calm down. Bucky noticed how your heels were dangling from your hands, and as his eyes dropped to your feet, he realized you had been walking barefoot.

"Come on, get on my back." He said, as he knelt down to make it easy for you.

"What? You can't be serious, Bucky, you're all beat up." You told him, eyeing his state.

"Wasn't an offer, sweetheart."

After that it was hard to stop the fire from spreading through your body. The boys kept on talking, but you could only focus on how close Bucky's body was to yours - your chest pressed against his back, his arms tangled with your legs, and your thighs gripping his waist.

"The state of your face, Bucky..." You complained to him, as you knelt between his legs, holding his face in one hand and the first aid kit in the other.

There was a small gash on his bottom lip, cuts on his jaw and forehead, and a bruise was already forming on his cheek.

"I've had worse." The man joked, hinting at the fact that he had served in the army, but you didn't laugh, you were too worried about his state "Come on, sweetheart, it's not that bad."

You looked at him with a serious expression, conveying how worried you were for him, and climbed on his lap, so you could work on "fixing" his face. You opened the first aid kit and began scolding him.

"Bucky... You can't get into fights every time some asshole hits on me..." You told him, as you applied some medicine to his cuts.

The man hissed at the stinging sensation on his lip.

"If I can't do that, then what do I have to give you?" He was smiling, but there was a glimpse of sadness in his eyes.

You put down the cotton swab and the bottle of medicine and looked into his eyes.

"What does that mean, James?" You asked, with eyebrows furrowed in sorrow.

Bucky sighed, and his hands ran up and down your thighs, before giving them a squeeze.

"You heard them, sweetheart, I'm old... I'm holdin' up pretty well but-"

You shut him up with a kiss, before he could say anything else.

"You're not old, Bucky. Let's start with that, you're talking as if you're some decrepit thing, you're beautiful. You do realize that I'm not exactly lacking when it comes to options of young guys, right? If I cared about age I would have a pretty wide catalog in the university I go to, you are just what I was looking for, just what I needed - and I didn't even know I needed you before I met you."

His eyes were full of emotion, and he couldn't express any of them. The only thing he could do to paint an image of what he was feeling was grab the back of your head and bring you forward, locking your lips in a tender kiss. You had never experienced such feelings in a kiss before, and the two of you had kissed many, many times. There was sorrow, sadness, gratitude, admiration, and love.

One of his large hands brought you closer, as if you were still too far away for his liking. As your kiss deepened and his tongue became more creative, your hips rolled against his, feeling his already hardened cock under you. A strained moan was muffled by your lips, and the two of you pulled away.

"I'd love to fuck you right now," he began, slapping your ass and grabbing your cheeks in the middle of the sentence "but my whole body is sore..." The man lamented.

Biting your lip, you undid his zipper and pulled his pants down slightly, just enough so you could comfortably pull his cock out from the confinement of his underwear.

You climbed down from his lap, spreading his legs gently so you could fit in between.

"Tonight, I'll take care of you." You told him, as you gripped the base of his cock and teased its tip with your tongue.

"Fuck..." He muttered under a sigh of relief, as he momentarily threw his head back against the wall.

You lips slid up and down his shaft and his tip hit against the back of your throat. As you hollowed your cheeks and pressed your tongue flat against the base of his cock, you felt Bucky gathering your hair in his fist, a makeshift ponytail so he could see you as well as possible.

His hips thrusted slightly, following your movements. You could tell he was holding himself back. Bucky's chest rose and fall, and a plethora of groans and curses left his lips.

You looked up, curiosity getting the best of you, and it was the most beautiful view. Bucky's mouth was agape, his eyebrows furrowed with pleasure, and his eyes had a dark veil of ecstasy. As his pupils met yours, he muttered another curse under his breath.

"Don't look at me with those eyes, pretty girl, or I won't last."

You pulled away from his cock, a string of spit connecting your lips to his tip.

"Let's pick up the pace then." You teased as you stood.

You pulled your dress up just enough to remove your panties and got back on his lap. No preparation was needed, as his state alone was enough for wetness to spread between your legs.

The man just watched as you gripped his cock and easily slid down his shaft. Your moans mixed and bounced off the walls. Bucky's hands gripped your ass and you gripped his shoulders as you began to move up and down.

His eyes traveled down your body, focusing on the red dress that had been teasing him all night long.

"Fuck... you and these pretty little things you like to wear... I wanted to fuck you over the counter of that bar the second I saw you..." Bucky said in your ear, kissing the spot directly under it.

That incited a loud moan from you, as you picked up the pace. Bucky's body worked in sync with yours, his hips snapping upwards and his big hands forcing you down on his cock - any pain or soreness from the fight was long forgotten.

You could tell from the look in his eyes that he was near, his clouded vision and clenched jaw were all too familiar. You held him against your chest as he buried himself deep in you one last time. You could feel his cock twitch within you, spilling his cum.

Bucky held the back of your head and caught you in a deep kiss, exchanging a million silent words.

You stared at the man standing on your porch and your heart began beating on your chest. You parked your car and exited the vehicle, that took no longer than five seconds, but it felt like hours as thoughts ran through your mind - why was Andy at your house? Why was he waiting for you?

The week that had passed was filled with awkward silences and tense conversations, so much so that the group had pretty much divided itself to prevent the weird atmosphere that had ensued - you'd sometimes hang out with one half, and then you'd hang out with the other. You felt bad for your friends, it felt like they had to take turns to spend time with everyone...

"Andy... Hi." You greeted, trying to hide the nervousness "Do you want to-"

"Do you like him? Do you have feelings for him?" He was cutthroat and went directly to the issue, to the core of the reason why he was there, as Andy didn't seem like he wanted to spend a long time in your presence.

The question was deafening, it was something you hadn't even admitted to Bucky himself, it was something you knew the answer to, but you had never voiced it out loud.

You took a deep breath and looked at Andy.

"I do." Your voice was firm and determined, as if it had been something you struggled with, when in reality coming to terms that you did have feelings for a man like that was the easiest that you ever had to do, but admitting it to his son, your friend... that was rough.

There was sorrow in his eyes as he heard the answer. Andy pressed his lips together in an understanding smile as he slowly nodded.

"Why?"

You thought you had heard wrong. Was he asking "why" you had feelings for his dad, "why" you had done it, "why" your feelings for Andy had come to a halt...

"What?"

He sighed and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket.

"Why do you like him?"

"I mean..." You swallowed thickly and licked your lips, there was no way to word why you had come to like Bucky so much without being cheesy "He's always on the forefront when it comes to protecting me, even when I was just your friend to him, he went out of his way to get rid of a group of guys that were harassing me. He's really kind, he treats me well and although he has this rough exterior he's really sensitive and loving." You paused and look into Andy's sad eyes "He cares about you, very much, and he feels really sorry..."

"I know he does... That's why this is so hard for me. I would've expected it if he was a deadbeat who didn't give a shit about me, but he's always been there, he's always been my best-friend and now... I still love him, I don't think I will ever not love him, but it was an unexpected blow." Those words were hard for Andy, you could tell.

His voice was breaking and cracking, as if he had to physically pull them out of his throat.

"I came down here because I wanted to know... I needed to know if you and my dad were just a fling or it was an actual thing." The boy struggled with his words, and so did you, wanting everything to be as broad and un-specific as possible.

"Is it better that I like him?" You asked, unsure if that was the answer he was looking for.

Andy shrugged. The boy himself was not sure what answer he was searching for, and what outcome would be best.

"In a way it's better that you actually like him, because then you weren't just crewing up things between us for a one night stand, but in the long run it might hurt me more. I-I don't know..."

"I'm sorry, Andy..."

"Yeah, you've said that, you and him." He said, with a cynical chuckle, which struck you deeply "I'm not saying I will never forgive you, I eventually will, you were a good friend to me, but right now I can't be the bigger person and just forgive you both."

"I can wait." You said with a small, sympathetic smile.

Andy just nodded, and bid you a silent goodbye. There wasn't exactly closure, and it wasn't the conclusion you had hoped for (or expected), but it was better than nothing.

You stood on your porch, watching as he left, thinking about what had just happened, and trying to process what it all meant.

"Hey."

You snapped your head in the direction of the very familiar voice.

"Bucky, hey! Andy just left, actually." You told him, as you pointed towards the direction his son had gone in.

"I know, I got here a while ago, but it didn't seem like a conversation I should be a part of."

"So you were nearby... waiting?" You realized.

"Yes." The man responded simply.

"So did you hear..."

You hoped the answer was negative, you prayed it was negative.

"I did."

Oh. What a nightmare. You had just indirectly confessed to him, he had heard you tell his son how much you liked him. It was too soon, you hadn't been together for long, and it wasn't something you wanted him to know yet.

"Oh... It's okay if you don't feel the same, I mean it hasn't been a long time so I get it but-"

"Don't do that." Bucky interrupted your rant, with a serious tone.

You had been averting your gaze, too nervous to meet his stare, but at that sentence, you looked up into his eyes.

"Do what?" You asked.

"Act like you're somehow not enough for me to feel the same. Act like what we have isn't special, and act like I wasn't obsessed with you from the very start."

Bucky stepped forward and cupped your face with his hands.

"There's no use in denying what we feel, Y/N, and time doesn't fucking matter because a day with you feels like a second, it's never enough. So don't focus on the days we spent, let's just focus on the days we have ahead, okay? The sooner we start our journey, the more time we will have to enjoy it, together."

You were too choked up to respond, you could only wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a deep kiss.

"Fuck me like you want to make me yours forever." You whispered, looking straight into his eyes.

Bucky instantly grabbed your thighs with his hands, making you wrap his legs around his waist as he hurriedly carried you inside of the house.

For the first time, when he laid you on your bed, he took his time. He removed his clothes first, and then slowly peeled your off of every item you wore, taking in your curves like you were a piece of art at the Louvre.

He kissed the skin between your breasts and played with them softly, before trailing his lips down your body, eyes locked on yours drinking your every expression. The man kissed the inside of your thighs, taking his time before eating you out. His tongue tasted you hungrily, and, although he tried taking his time, Bucky's desperation showed - he couldn't get enough of you.

"Bucky please..." You begged, unable to wait any longer.

He listened to your pleas instantly, locking your lips in a deep, passionate kiss, forcing you to taste yourself on his tongue, before slipping into you so easily that it felt like a puzzle coming together.

This time, he didn't let you go. He held you close and looked into your eyes as he fucked you, listening to your every command, to your every noise like it was music.

And, when the two of you came in sync, promises of staying together forever came out in unison.

"minors dni" banner credit - @cafekitsune

taglist: @bookofriverr ; @starfly-nicole ; @deafening-roar-of-angry-students ; @blackhawkfanatic

Thank you so much for the support 🩷 I haven't proofread it yet, sorry for any mistakes

[soelstress]

Never Have I Ever

Pairing: Steve Rogers x female!reader

Summary: Your curiosity is piqued when truths are revealed while playing

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI , nsfw , sex/smut, anal sex , unprotected sex , oral sex (f receiving) , vaginal fingering , some language , Bucky being a lil shit , Steve being sinfully sweet

Word count: 3.5k

A/N - Hello Lovelies! So the plot bunnies are starting to come out of hibernation thanks to the clocks going forward (boo!) and the sun being spotted in the UK (yay!). Once again slightly inspired by real life events though sadly I did not have Steve or Bucky to help 😩

The gif is sourced from @writeshite via Google

Do not Steal, Copy or Plagiarize any part of my work

Silence reigned throughout the room. Something that should have been impossible considering both Iron Man and the Falcon were in attendance and up until a few moments ago had been two of the noisiest participants. Your gaze was focused on Tony. Wide brown eyes blown with surprise while his mouth moved but no sounds came out his flabbergasted expression most likely matched your own.

It had all started with a relaxed atmosphere and a simple game of Never Have I Ever. The rules had been explained to the two centenarians who had never partaken in the game. In fact Bucky had tried to make that his first entry but had been rejected since he technically was currently playing. The statements had started off innocent though Tony was downing shots at a not-so-alarming rate considering his past. So Sam had then offered a spicy alternative wanting to step up the game but also to see the two Super Soldiers responses. As the rounds continued Steve had progressively blushed more while Bucky’s grin just grew wider.

You turned to Steve who sat on your right as his brow furrowed in a search for a good statement. Amusement and warmth filled you as you watched your boyfriend try to think of something to make the rest of you drink. He was adorably innocent due to not having dated many people since coming out of the ice but it was something you loved about him. The 1940’s charm and some mannerisms mixed with his eagerness to adapt to the 21st century and learn as much as possible. And he was a remarkably eager student when the lessons were of an intimate nature between the pair of you. With that in mind you believed there was no way he’d be able to one up you all. Oh you didn’t realise how wrong you could be. Hence your current situation.

“You’ve done anal?!”

“You haven’t?”

Bucky and Steve’s eyes darted between you and Tony while Sam looked ready to bust his gut laughing.

“You? Tony Stark, the former uninhibited playboy, has never done anal?”

Tony began to refill the only two empty shot glasses with a shrug while answering your question. “Not my scene. None of the women from back then asked for it. And it’s not really Pepper’s thing either.” He frowned in annoyance at the second glass he refilled. “Really though? Terminator before Capsicle or even you, Big Bird?”

Sam’s gaze turned speculative. “A lot of hard work, grumbling and complaining, a massive pain in the ass… Bucky’s enough to deal with before I try that. I don’t know how we’ve not had complaints from his victims.”

Bucky flinched slightly at the word ‘victims’ but he knew Sam meant it in jest as the rest of the group chuckled. “Hilarious, Wilson. I’ve had no complaints… only lots of moaning.”

Sam winced as his jibe was turned back on him. “Really Buck?”

Bucky flashed a smug smirk. “What can I say? Keep ‘em coming, just like I do.”

“Man, that’s nasty. You’re Bucknasty.”

Everyone but Bucky started laughing at his latest nickname while he gave a small grumble. “What’s your story then?” He asked in an attempt to divert the attention off him.

You shrugged. “Tried it with my college boyfriend. We were fooling around while he was drunk and he thought I was wet enough for him to try without any prep or extra help.” All four men winced. “To this day I can’t hear the phrase ‘stick up their ass’ without remembering that particular episode.” A shudder traveled through your body as you saw the bottle Tony held was empty. “I’ll grab a refill.” Standing, you took the bottle into the kitchen and recycled it before reaching for another.

“Guess you can say you gave it the old college try, huh?” Bucky joked softly as he snuck up behind you to grab another bottle for him and Steve. Damn stealthy Super Soldiers and their high metabolism. His brow furrowed slightly as he turned to face you. “And you never wanted to try again?”

“I wasn’t in a hurry to feel like someone shoved a hot poker up my ass, Buck. I’m all for being split in half on a cock but only if it’s done properly.” You grinned when Bucky chuckled at the latter part of your statement. “Any one I dated after that never brought it up.”

“Look, you had a bad first try. Actually bad doesn’t do it justice.” Bucky winced again at your disastrous first attempt. “Consider trying again. You might just be surprised.”

“I’ll try anything again.” With a cheeky wink you started to walk out of the room when Steve appeared to grab food for the group.

The poor Captain looked worried that he had upset you through his actions. “Hey… I’m sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. I was actually trying to get Sam and Tony to drink.”

Catching his face you pressed a soft kiss to his nose and looked into his worried eyes. “I know Steve. It’s just a game. Besides I’ve said and done more embarrassing things playing truth or dare with you and Bucky.” Steve blushed at the reminder and smiled as you walked back into the living area.

“Really, Buck? Anal?”

“Don’t knock it till you try it punk.”

================================

A few days later you found yourself nervously knocking on Bucky’s door. The door opened to reveal the surprised brunette. “Heya toots. Stevie’s with Stark talking about some mission.”

“Actually I need your help.” Silently Bucky gestured for you to enter his quarters. He’d barely closed the door when you blurted out “I want to try anal.”

There were a few moments before Bucky answered. “Wow. Um… Look, are you sure? It’s not something that should be rushed. There's a lot of prep work required.” Your stare remained on the floor but you mumbled to reassure him of your wishes. “Okay. Well… I guess we better get started then. You get comfy and I’ll get the lube.”

Horrified you looked up in a panic. You tried to explain what you really wanted when you saw Bucky’s lip twitch slightly as his eyes twinkled mischievously. The little shit was screwing with you. “Barnes, you ass!”

“Didn’t know that was your fantasy doll. I thought you wanted it in your ass?” Bucky laughed when you tried to clip him over the head but being shorter you settled for jabbing his belly. “C’mon, I’m just messing with you.” He guided you to sit on his sofa. “So what's going on? What changed your mind?”

Nervously you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. “I thought about what you said. It wasn’t really a good first try, between my ex being drunk and not doing any- um, prep work.” Bucky smiled slightly at your nerves but mercifully didn’t tease you. “I want to try again and I thought it might be better if I do it alone first.” Blood rushed to your face but you were determined to keep looking at Bucky. “I’d feel less embarrassed asking Steve to try this knowing how I feel about it rather than try with him and find out I don’t like it. I wouldn’t want to let him down.”

Bucky patted your knee softly, his twinkling blue eyes softening with understanding. “There’s nothing to feel embarrassed about. Not to mention I’m certain there’s nothing you could do to disappoint that punk, he’s crazy about you.” When you smiled softly at him he sat back with all traces of teasing gone from his face. “Well I can give you some advice.” When you nodded he gestured for you to wait while he ducked into his bedroom and emerged moments later with two small black boxes. Placing them on the coffee table before you he gestured for you to open them.

When you lifted the lids you were faced with two sets of three anal plugs that ranged in size. The first was a black silicone set while the second was a metallic set with each plug having a different colour star gem on the end. Curiosity won you over and you began to examine the metal set. A laugh nearly escaped when you saw that the biggest plug was topped with a blue star with the smallest being a red one. As Bucky’s favourite colour was red while Steve’s was blue you were sure there was a joke somewhere that would rile Bucky up but since he was helping you decided to play nice. Though you couldn’t help the main thing burning in your mind.

“Where did you get these from?”

Bucky winked. “A certain high end sex store with lots of toys.”

“And do you use them for all of your conquests?” You fought a grin. Apparently his quip about the moaning was accurate if he was familiar with items like this.

“Most of them. I’m a repeat customer so I was offered a discount if I tested new items and left feedback or if someone said I recommended their products.” Bucky paused before winking. “JBB1917 if you’re interested.” He grinned when you chuckled and pointed at the two sets. “Both of these are good for beginners and range in size so you can adjust. I’ve found - or more accurately the dames have found - they prefer the metal set because the silicone requires constant lubrication. The temperature takes some getting used to but apparently the smoothness helps with movement.” Bucky then went on to talk about preparation and aftercare before offering a few tips of his own. After carefully considering the information he had given you chose the metal set and hid them in your room.

===============================

It had been nearly two months since your revelation and Bucky’s assistance. Steve had left for a mission on the same day. His hope that it should take no longer than a few weeks had been dashed as he had not yet returned. You missed him terribly and communication had been scarce as he didn’t want to risk being tracked but he managed a few brief video calls and tried to message when possible to let you know he was safe.

The only silver lining of his absence was that you were able to experiment with the plugs without the worry of Steve finding out. At first you had found the sensation weird but with time and patience you quickly grew used to it. Now you’d taken to wearing them for a few hours and were still amazed at how pleasantly full and satisfied you felt though you wanted more than anything to try this with Steve.

But tonight you were both lonely and frustrated following a very brief but heated phone call the previous night where Steve had said how excited he’d be to come home. And then he had sent a brief video of him pleasuring himself. Bastard.

After preparing yourself and having a glass of wine while soaking in the bath you knelt on Steve’s bed wearing one of his soft t-shirts with a spritz of his cologne and a special pair of panties that included a little gadget. Taking another sip of wine you hit play on the video and watched as Steve palmed and squeezed himself, his soft grunts quickly leading to arousal pooling in your underwear. After a few minutes you grabbed the largest plug with the blue star and the lube using the latter generously before inserting the plug slowly. There was still some slight resistance but after a few minutes it was nestled inside you and you took a moment to relish the wicked thought of being so full in a seemingly forbidden way. Reaching for the little remote you clicked it and the vibrator nestled in your panties began to buzz. You ground against a pillow loving the dual feeling of the vibrator against your clit while pressing against the plug and feeling it move deep within. Throwing your head back you tugged at your nipples while thinking of your Captain and swept up in Steve’s scent surrounding you on the shirt, his sheets and his room.

“Getting started without me honey?”

Your eyes flew open in shock. In the bedroom doorway stood Steve, lounging against the frame with apparent nonchalance but his blue eyes smouldered at the sensual scene he had walked in on. He shifted away from the door and strode gracefully to the end of the bed. Although surprised you couldn’t quite stop gently moving against the still vibrating gadget in your underwear but when he knelt on the bed you rose up on your knees to meet his mouth in a sweet kiss taking a few moments to relish in the fact that Steve was home safely. So caught up in the kiss you didn’t realise he moved you to lay back until his hard thigh nudged between your legs. A small whine burst from you when he bumped the tip of the plug which shifted within you. Steve felt something against his leg but when he looked at you a burning blush greeting him. Intrigued he slid his hands down your body to tug the scrap of material off before carefully parting your thighs. At first he seemed caught at the sight of your glistening folds but when he shifted his weight it caused the bed to dip and something twinkled at the movement.

Your mouth suddenly felt dry as Steve’s light blue orbs suddenly darkened, the blue almost entirely eclipsed by black. “Oh baby” he gulped, licking his lips nervously as his fingers twitched to touch the plug. “You wanna-?”

Despite your burning cheeks you nodded whilst keeping eye contact. “Will you try with me, Steve? Please?”

Steve leaned forward to plunge his mouth against yours in a passionate rush while his hands snuck beneath the t-shirt to feel your soft skin. “Let me take care of you” he murmured as his lips ghosted along your jaw and down your neck. You whined in confusion as he shifted backwards so his face was close to your heat. “Please sweetheart. Let me take care of you like this.” Liquid sapphires gleamed at you and melted your resistance. You barely nodded before his first lick brushed your clit. Your gasp suddenly cut off as Steve suckled gently and his hums of pleasure sent tingles of pleasure through you. Reactively your hands shoved into his golden strands and tugged eagerly. Steve moaned as more arousal pooled and you bucked against his face. You squealed when two fingers slid into your pussy, thrusting deeply at a measured pace. “That feel good, baby?” When you keened as an answer he used his free hand to move the plug, carefully tugging and twisting. “Hmm my beautiful girl. What do you want, baby?”

“You, Stevie. I want you inside me… to own all of me.” You clenched around his fingers when Steve growled at your answer. “Want you so bad Steve.”

Steve’s fingers curved and began to work faster. “You want my cock? I’m gonna give it to you, gonna have all of you sweetheart but you’re gonna cum first baby. Cum for me and I’ll give you what you want.” With that promise Steve licked and suckled at your sensitive bud until the band in your belly snapped and you cried out his name.

After licking up every drop he watched as you reared up to kiss him eagerly and ripped the shirt off your body before removing his. Steve kicked off his jeans and boxers, his cock slapping against his abdomen and slick with precum. Spinning you turned and knelt facing the headboard with your belly on the bed and ass up.

Steve gently removed the plug and placed it further down the bed before kneading your thighs and back. You could hear the slick of the lube as he coated his cock. The tip caught at your entrance, a shiver running through Steve’s body before he gently started to push in. A soft groan left your lips, your body already slightly protesting. Though the plugs had helped, nothing could have fully prepared you for Steve’s cock. His already warm flesh heated as he slowly continued, the girth stretching you pleasantly.

When he had reached roughly halfway, he froze when you clenched around him. “Honey, are you ok?” He heard you panting lightly through gritted teeth. “Do you want me to stop?” He waited for your decision knowing that pulling out wouldn’t help if you wanted to keep going.

“No” you bit out, waiting for the discomfort to lessen. Reaching for your glass you took another sip along with a few deep breaths. Steve gently stroked along your spine in an attempt to calm you. After a few moments all that remained was the sensation of him inside you. “Keep going, baby.”

Steve murmured his assent and resumed his slow progress. He held in the sounds that wanted to spill from his lips at how tightly you were squeezing him. Part of him was relieved and proud that he had taken care of you first. If his current pace was any indication, he wasn’t going to last very long. When his hips met the curve of your ass he couldn’t help but let out a gasp. “My god… sweetheart.” When you clenched again hearing the awe in his voice his hands gripped your hips. “Don’t. You gotta - damn - you gotta give me a minute honey.”

When his grip on your hips lessened you squirmed slightly. “Go on Stevie. I’m ready.”

With a hard swallow Steve slowly began to guide you off his cock before carefully filling you up again. Moaning you wriggled slightly in an attempt to get him to move a little faster which he happily obliged. Sounds of pleasure began to fill the room, amplified when Steve moved one of his hands to rub your clit. He wanted you to cum again, to fall apart before he did. “Oh baby… you’re taking me so well. So tight. You’re squeezing my cock.”

His praise encouraged you to rock back cautiously and meet his gentle quickening thrusts. Under the strumming of his skilled digits, your orgasm built and you knew you’d soon fall over the edge. “Please… don’t stop. So close.”

“I’m right there with you” he gasped, feeling his balls draw up to his body. “Gonna make me cum so hard.”

“Cum with me Stevie. Need to feel you.”

As he gave a slightly harder thrust he nudged your clit. The heat exploded through your body, your heat convulsing and causing you to squeeze him one last time while screaming his name. Steve grunted loudly as his spend filled you with every jerk of his cock. As his legs wobbled slightly the hand that had stroked your clit moved to brace against the bed so his weight wouldn’t crush you while the hand on your hip curled around your front to catch you as you started to collapse against the mattress. For a few moments you both just stayed with his chest pressed against your back as his lips ghosted along your shoulder. Steve tenderly began to pull out, his heart warming when he heard your soft whine of displeasure. He took a moment to look at the boneless heap you’d become as his juices dripped out of you and onto his bed.

Content in a postcoital haze you complained at the feeling of Steve pulling out. You loved the feeling of him inside you and hated when it had to end. Distantly you were aware of Steve moving around but it wasn’t until he scooped you into a bridal hold and carried you to his en suite where you saw a gently steaming bath with the scent of bath salts filling the room. Tenderly Steve lowered you in before climbing in behind you and whispered words of praise and love in your ear as he held you close.

================================

The next morning Bucky watched in amusement as Steve walked into the living area with you in his arms like a little koala before sitting with care to avoid jostling you. When you and Steve both looked at him he winked. “So… I guess it’s five stars then?”

Steve’s ears turned pink but he couldn’t help the beaming smile that lit up his face when he looked at you. “We’ll leave a review saying our good friend JBB1917 recommended it.”

Bucky nodded with a wide smirk. “I appreciate that. But I changed my name. You’ll have to tag Bucknasty.”

[natalievoncatte]

She had been both dreading and anticipating this moment. The portal platform activated, the display confirming that the arrival was from Argo City. Purple hues danced across the strange crystalline walls of the Fortress of Solitude and Lena held her breath. This was not going yo be an easy reunion.

Lena still found it difficult to believe that he would ever trust her. The Man of Steel. Superman. Kal-El of Krypton. Karan’s cousin.

Clark.

He was dressed not in his super suit but a garment akin to a tunic bearing his colors and crest and he was not alone. A tall, narrowly built and energetic woman accompanied him, carrying a baby on one hip and guiding a toddler boy by the hand on the other side.

Lois Lane had a peculiar quality; she was thin and wiry and not conventionally lovely but somehow dominated every room she occupied with the same sheer force of personality that had captured the heart of the perfect man from the sky. Lena had fond memories of Lois when she and Clark and Lex were all friends in Metropolis, before her brother had gone mad. Lena was only a teenager then and intimidated by Lois.

Kara took a half step to greet her cousin, then paused. He wasn’t here for her.

The cyborg.

Half machine, the Kara of an alternate world, one that was erased in the Crisis-that-was-not-a-Crisis, was in many ways a sad, harrowing creature to look upon. Half her face was missing, replaced with gleaming steel, and Lena had recently replace a chunk of Kryptonite in her chest with a safer power source, one that powered the machinery she needed to live without torturing her at the same time.

“Who are you?” the cyborg rasped, her voice distant and tinny, ever on the verge of tears.

Clark shot Kara - their Kara- a brief glance, and they did that annoying silent-nod thing they did with each other and Clark approached their guest.

Though Clark towered over both Karas -he was the among the tallest men that Lena had ever met- Lena knew that Kara overmatched him in both speed and raw strength, had actually witnessed them fight once when Clark was not himself. Still, he cut a regal and imposing figure. Kara wore her heritage like a mourning shroud as often as not, but Clark carried his like a banner.

The cyborg regarded him uneasily.

“Who are you?”

“My human name is Clark Kent, but I am Kal-El, the son of Jor-El.”

The cyborg looked up sharply and met his gaze, unwavering. She reached up with both hands, one unnaturally cold flesh and the other a skeletal claw, and lightly brushed either cheek.

“I never knew you on my Earth. I was sent by portal, not by pod, and there wasn’t enough energy to open it again before Krypton exploded.”

There as a brief, heavy pause and then he gathered her broken form in a bear hug and held her. The peculiar rasping noises she made turned out to be sobs, as she tried desperately to cry with the only tears her abused form could muster, a thin trickle of blood from her remaining eye.

“I was always alone. I was the last of my kind.” She drew back and looked at him. “You were a baby. You’re so big.”

“Kara tells me they’re taking your Lena to Themyscira, is that right?” Clark said, releasing her.

“Yes. I don’t know what that means. There was no such place where I came from.”

“They’ll help her. I can’t go, it’s a place of women.”

“I’m going,” said Lois. “I’ve never been and it sounds like you could use the moral support. Clark can watch the boys for a few days.”

Cyborg Kara edged closer to her and they spoke in hushed tones, about what Lena wasn’t sure.

Her attention was consumed by Clark as he loomed over her.

“Lena,” he said.

“Clark,” she said.

Kara walked to Lena’s side but said nothing, making a more profound statement by draping her arm protectively around Lena’s waist.

“Kara told me quite a bit about everything that’s happened between you.”

“She has?” Lena said, cautiously.

“I have,” said Kara.

Clark looked bemused. “You both think I’m surprised, but I was there when you two first met and I have super-senses. I’m not sure which of your hearts was beating harder. It was just a matter of time, really.”

“It was our, ah, guest that pushed me to speak up,” said Lena, “to tell her how I feel. After that it was just… natural.”

Kara looked at her and Lena forgot everything. The biting cold of the Fortress, the weight of Superman’s gaze, the presence of Kara’s tragic doppelgänger, everything but the pure look of adoration in Kara’s silly smile. It was like the cyborg had told her that night she first appeared in Lena’s apartment: there was something fundamental between them, a link that could not be explained, not even quantified. It seemed silly to think about it in such terms but once Lena just let go of her fear and accepted it, it was as much part of the world as sunshine and birdsong. They belonged to each other as surely as the moon belongs to the sky.

“You two should visit,” said Clark. “Introduce Lena to your mother.”

“Clark,” Kara said, uneasily. “Krypton… how would I introduce her? I’m not going to pretend that we’re not together. Our language doesn’t even have a word for queer.”

“It does now,” he said. “Things are changing. They’re looking to the future, not the mistakes of the past.”

“Maybe we’ll visit,” Kara said, “but we have something to do first, someone who needs our help.”

That someone was being brought through now. The alternate Lena was an unsettling sight- Kara may have already met clones and parallel universe copies of herself but Lena was new at this and it was hard to process.

Inside the stasis pod, her twin was not quite her twin; older and leaner, she had laugh lines around her mouth but there was a worn quality to her beauty; even in an artificial sleep it was obvious that her closed eyes had seen too much.

“You’re going to be okay,” Lena told herself as Alex walked up.

“It’s time,” she said.

[carriesthewind]

Ok. I am maybe kind of losing my mind just a little bit.

A few days ago, I mentioned in a post that the IA only cares about information being digitized, not about actual digital access. And I mentioned that access includes patrons being able to actually find what they are looking for, and suggested IA did not prioritize that critical aspect of access. But I didn't really go into any more detail.

So someone over on bluesky linked to this write-up of a talk Brewster Kahle gave about using so-called AI. And one of his reported statements made my mouth drop open in shock.

...and then I read further in the article and realized it was incorrectly reporting basic facts around Hachette, so I had to go and listen to the whole speech myself.* (And I want to say, briefly - he raises some legitimate potential uses for LLMs! He's kind of a dick about some of it ("it's up to us to go and keep [Balinese] culture alive"), but some of the things he's talking about actually seem useful.)

*Incidentally, while Kahle doesn't lie about the ALA brief in the speech, he absolutely misleads about the nature and facts of the case and deliberately omit the part of the story where the IA decided to suspend the one-to-one owned-to-loan ratio thing, despite repeatedly emphasizing that one-to-one was what the IA was doing with their lending program.

And oh my god. He really said what the article reports. (This portion starts around 20:10.)

He says that the IA has scanned over 18,000 periodicals. And that they used to have professional librarians manually create descriptions of the periodicals in order to catalog them. (Sidenote: there are existing directories, but he describes their licensing terms as "ridiculous." This is not a field I know much about, but I spoke to one person who agreed, though for different reasons. His reason is that you can only license, not purchase, the directory descriptions. The person I spoke to was instead focused on the prices demanded for the licenses. Regardless, the idea of creating an open, free directory seems both like an incredible amount of work and an amazing resource...if it was accurate.)

But according to Kahle, it took 45 minutes to an hour to create a description and catalog each periodical.

And so now, instead, they're using AI to make the descriptions and so it only takes 7-10 minutes!

"And yes it hallucinates, and it has some problems, and whatever — but it’s a lot faster than having to write it yourself!"

Oh. My god.

Just.

YOU ARE KNOWINGLY INTRODUCING AI HALLUCINATIONS INTO YOUR CATALOG?!

(And yes, he says that they are "confirmed by a librarian" but it can't really be, not if it's only taking 7-10 minutes! Maybe the librarian can do a quick check for super obvious errors, but actually checking a AI's summary work requires actually going back to the source and reviewing it yourself!)

I just....

I need to emphasize for those of you for who aren't familiar - if a book or article is miscataloged, it is effectively lost. Because it doesn't mater if a library or an archive owes it - if someone can't find it when they are looking for it, it is not only inaccessible, the only way to find it again is through chance. Imagine if you went into a library, but instead of organized shelves (where if even if you can't find what you're looking for, the librarians know where to look), every single book was just piled in a heap.

If a book is miscateloged, it still exists, but it is lost, not truly accessible. And they know that this is happening, "but whatever." Because Brewster Kahle doesn't actually care about real, practical, digital access. (Much less non-digital access.)

(And then to top it off, he goes on to criticize the Library of Congress for not being "access oriented.")

I just. 18,000 periodicals. And they've knowing, recklessly lost who knows how many of them. I feel like crying.

18,000 periodicals.

[notnights]

I didn't dive into my TADC ep4 thoughts too much because the interpretations and discussions and theories I built from it came from such a personal place and my own experiences so I didn't share them outwardly.

But with ep5 approaching and knowing it'll be Ragatha (and Jax) centric, I do want to tell one interpretation that I got out of ep4 that maybe might be relevant for the next episode. I immediately got it right at the beginning scene, but Gangle's talk with Pomni later solidified my thoughts on it.

In the beginning of the episode Jax, Ragatha and Gangle are playing baseball, and are seemingly getting along well enough, until the inevitability of Gangle's mask breaking, breaks, by the fault of (but even surprisingly to) Jax. He doesn't apologize he just defends he didn't mean it. Either or it doesn't matter, this sets off Ragatha. Jax is often the source of a lot of pain, why should she think this time is any different.

Gangle is left, crying on the ground, as Jax and Ragatha fight. Zooble approaches Gangle and leads her off, Gangle takes one hesitant look back. This small action on it's own spoke to me. She's wondering, thinking about them, should she let them know she's leaving? Should she decline Zooble's offer because Gangle was already playing with Jax and Ragatha? No. Play time is over. Ragatha, and Jax have already checked out. Fighting each other is preferable than hanging out with a crying Gangle.

Gangle does not directly reference this later when saying it's hard to tell how genuine Ragatha is being, but we can assume it's behavior under the same umbrella.

Ragatha screams at Jax first, then gives one check up on Gangle, "are you okay?" Gangle doesn't even say she's okay, Ragatha does not help her up, Ragatha immediately goes to attack what she thinks is the source of this issue instead. Even if Ragatha did believe this time was an accident, she says "why do you always gotta do this?" this isn't about just now this is about every time Jax does this sort of thing. But why NOW, why do this fight NOW? Well because they do it all the time. Fighting is easy for them. Easier than dealing with Gangle.

Who knows how often they do this with the others but right now just looking at it from Gangle's perspective you were seemingly having a decent time with the people you live with, but they check out AS SOON as something inconvenient happens. Which unfortunately often coincides with Gangle's mask breaking. Party's over, someone's crying now! And guess who's fault it is!

Gangle doesn't even get the chance to maybe try and keep playing with them even while crying because Ragatha already checks out. The fun time is over. Not directly because of Gangle's crying but it's a factor. And you have to imagine this from Gangle's perspective. "If I got hit with the baseball but my mask didn't break, the fight wouldn't have happened, maybe we would still have been playing together..."

From Gangles' perspective, Ragatha and Jax fighting each other is more preferable them than dealing with a crying Gangle.

And this is also confirmed with both Jax and Ragatha saying they prefer her when she's a meek crybaby. Jax was extra frustrated over everything this adventure, and Ragatha was high out of her mind, but both these statements came from real places for both of them.

Manager Gangle is happy, unbreakable, this is what you want right? This is what I want, right? There would be less fights if my mask didn't break as often, right? You wouldn't have to pretend as much if I just stayed like this more often, right? This will make things easier, better for all of us, right?

"I liked you better when you're sad."

"You're kind of annoying with your happy mask on."

Jax and Ragatha fighting each other is more preferable than Gangle.

If Zooble didn't step in how long would Gangle have sat on the floor, crying, until she finally picked herself up and left, with Jax and Ragatha not even noticing? How many times has that happened you think?

This is the part where I admit, in it's simplest terms, in writing it is just a good way to motivate the scene to change, and might not mean anything outside of funny fight gag. But what are we if not funny little fans who read into things.

[jejelovescats]

My analysis on Spy X Family chapter 111

well uhm today's chapter was something initially I though the chapter was too short to write about, but we did get valuable information, and writing isn't only about the present, it's also about the past and future so I've been thinking about this for a few hours and here's what I've found. First point I'd like to make was way back in chapter 1, we got a very brief introduction about Anya, it was stated that she was an unintentional consequence of research experiments and that she had later escaped the facility.

Now since the chapter was quite short, many statements I make can be far-fetched. Alright now, when they said, "unintentional consequence of research experiments" they could've simply meant that the woman (who Anya refers to as "mama") could have just gotten pregnant and called that "unintentional consequence" and when stated "research experiments" they could have simply meant her mother. Now I said "the woman who Anya refers to as "mama"," because she could still be a woman who Anya has grown fond of and called 'mama', this is quite unlikely and I believe that she is her biological mother, still just a thought Now we ask ourselves, in chapter 111, was that a lab? my answer: yes, I do quite think so why? if you look closely, on the back of both Anya and her (probably) biological mother, there are strings holding the dress from behind like a lot of hospital clothing..

And one panel that really stood out to me was this one. Some people theorized previously that if Anya were to have a biological parent, they'd be the reason of her being held captive in the lab. This has been debunked after today's chapter. It seems that Anya's biological mother wanted freedom just as much Anya did, she's a victim in this too. Another point I'd like to make is that Anya's mother probably helped free Anya (as stated in chapter one, all it said was that she escaped, doesn't mean no one helped her) since she knew she couldn't escape herself. The symbolism is symbolizing 🙂‍↕️

Now this is where we ask ourselves, where is Anya's mom? my answer: Probably dead. Why else would she have cried on the interview day? She appeared to be very close to her mother in today's chapter and it would explain her tears. She could also just be trapped in the lab, but I find the first explanation more logical, even though they're both a possibility, that's just my opinion.

Something else, are Anya's powers inherited? probably, they could have messed up with the mother's DNA and passed it on to Anya, and they experimented further on Anya to further develop her powers Last thing, the hair. we saw in chapter 1 that Anya had her hair in buns, as well as today with her mother, and present Anya always has those cone shaped hairpieces on her hair, we've never seen her without them. why? no idea I've gathered a bunch of theories that are plausible 1) they have some type/form of horns hidden underneath their buns 2) scars now the scars would make sense for 2 reasons 1) Donovan, who's probably a mind reader (though we can't verify Melinda as an accurate source) has scars on his head as well, now even though the placement isn't the same, they're still scars. 2) They want to convince their selves they're normal people

hear me out. A woman and her daughter are both trapped in a lab, being experimented on, they have scars, won't hiding them give them some sense of normalcy?

And also, the fact that Anya asked Yor if she could read her mind, the poor kid is looking for anything that might remind her of her mother, in the chapter, her face wasn't shown, just like Loid's flashback. I also noticed while Anya was dreaming that she held bond quite tightly, I think that's because she was trying to hold out to her mother.

well, I did NOT expect to write this much given the length of the chapter😂 can you tell that this was VERY rushed? Since loid did mention that she was sleeping before her bedtime, that probably means that when Anya sleeps again, she'll dream of her mother once again. well, that's me rambling! hope you enjoyed! please feel free to share your thoughts or any more thoughts you might have! okay but isn't baby Anya just adorable? SEE Y'ALL IN 2 WEEKS<333

[bullet-prooflove]

7500 Follower Event: Cross My Heart - Charlie Reid x Reader

Tagging:@kmc1989 @littleesilvia @wrestlequeen @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @beebeechaos

Summary: Charlie's quiet moment in the hospital chapel is interrupted.

Companion piece to:

Charlie - Charlie meets someone unexpected one night at his pool hall.

The Whole Damn Night (NSFW) - You aren't anything like Charlie expected.

Like God Needs The Devil (NSFW) - Charlie takes you to heaven in the hallway of his house.

The Riding Crop (NSFW) - Charlie and you roleplay for the first time.

My Turn - It's Charlie's turn with the riding crop.

Risk Management - Charlie realises the two of you have been keeping secrets from one another.

Deals With The Devil - Charlie's fall from grace starts with an act of love.

The Ghost That Lingers In The Nighttime - Charlie's becoming accustomed to the late night visits.

Who The Fuck Is Charlie? - You wake up calling for Charlie but noone knows who the fuck Charlie is.

Blood For Blood - Charlie's wrath leads to his worst nightmare...

Your mother prays when they take you up for the second surgery. Charlie knows that because he can hear her in the pew behind him, murmuring the words into her clasped hands. He doesn’t recognise the prayer, only the tempo of the sentences as they run together in a rushed whisper through the silence of the hospital chapel.

The lapsed Catholic in him chides himself, because he would give anything to even the odds of you surviving and that includes praying to a God he doesn’t believe.

He isn’t quite sure how he ended up here, in the chapel. He just needed a minute after giving his statement. A minute to stop his hands from shaking as the adrenaline leaked out of his body. A minute to work on his breathing because it felt like his lungs were in a vice, the oxygen being squeezed out of them.

“What were you doing here?” Had been the question on everybody’s lips as he lingered outside of your room, gaze fixed on the bloody tousled sheets.

“I got some Intel from a questionable source.” He had told them, his palm rubbing over the nape of his neck catching on the steely curls he’d let grow out too long. “I wanted to see if there was any validity to it…”

“And the book?” The interrogation continues as he stares at the Ballin’ with the Billionaire Brontosaurus now saturated in the sticky dark pool of blood emitting from Chris Morrow’s body.  

“I guess he knew the silencer on a Glock 21 really isn’t that quiet so he picked up the first thing he had to hand to stifle the shot.” Charlie tells Voight, crossing his arms over his chest as Ruzek takes notes.

It isn’t that much of a stretch, not really. They’d found all sorts of fucked up shit in Morrow’s place when they’d raided it almost a week ago, tentacle dildos and rape hentai weren’t even the worst of it. It isn’t too much of a stretch to consider that he might be into something a little more niche.

“Getting his rocks off to dinosaurs.” Ruzek says, staring down at the glassy eyed corpse like he wants to spit on it. “This guy was a freak.”

Ruzek has no fucking idea, they’re still going through the external hard drives. There’s decades of horrible shit that no one wants to see.

It’s the hand in his shoulder that jerks him back to the present, he tilts his head up to see your mom Catherine standing above him, your familiar eyes staring back at him. You don’t look much like her, not really. She’s a typical Irish red head with pale skin and a smattering of freckles cross the bridge of her nose. You take after your father, the essence of your Romani heritage bleeding through the genes if you look close enough and he has, many a time.

“May I sit?” She asks, gesturing to the empty space alongside him. He nods his head, swallowing hard past the lump of emotion that’s bundled within the confines of his throat.

“You’re Charlie aren’t you?” She says into the air between them, drawing her fingertip in a line across her chest to indicate the name plate on his CPD jacket. He’d had one of the patrol officers fetch it out of his car along with the sneakers from his gym bag so they could take his boots into evidence. He hadn’t realised he’d been tracking crimson footprints throughout the corridor until Voight pointed it out. “C. Reid. It’s Charlie Reid isn’t it?”

“Yes.” He tells her, his voice coming out rough, gravelly.  

“My Em, she’s your girlfriend?” She asks him and Charlie, he just doesn’t have it in him to lie to one of the most important people in your life.

“More.” He rasps as the ache raises up in him. His eyes start to sting and he places his fist against his chest, trying to rub away the pain that resides deep within the depths of his soul with his knuckles. “Em is the world to me, she’s the sun, the moon, the stars…”

He trails off, his palm scrubbing over his face to chase away the salt that simmers underneath his eyes. He’s managed to hold his shit together until now, to put on that authoritative façade but he can feel himself splitting at the seams because his Em... she might not make it this time, not with if they can’t repair the additional damage.

“I cross my heart I’m not like this…” He tells Catherine his voice breaking. “I promise I’m strong for her, I’m good for her, I just…”

His palm rubs across his mouth, trying to supress the anguish that surges up inside of him like a force of nature, tearing up his insides, burning him alive.

“You almost lost your person again.” She says with understanding, her hand grasping his tightly in her own. “I know what that’s like, how visceral it feels…”

She’s talking about your father, about a man they both know is buried in an unmarked grave somewhere, his dishonoured mulo cursed to haunt the earth until he’s laid to rest the way he should have been. It’s the worst thing you can do to a Romani person, denying them their rituals to ensure a peaceful transition into the afterlife.

It’s the whole reason you joined Intelligence in the first place, you had exhausted all avenues in Missing Persons and Voight had promised you the resources to work on your father’s case so you could return his body to your family.

You’ve been wanting to get out for a while now, Voight’s aggressive style of policing, the moral compromises they don’t work for you.

She’s soft, the other man had told him after that undercover op, she needs to be tougher. No he thought, his Em, she’s endured things you could never imagine, she’s strong in different way, one that keeps her humanity.

“I’m scared.” He finds himself saying as he stares down at their joined hands. “I’m scared that this is the time she doesn’t get back up.”

“I know.” Catherine says with a deep sigh as she looks up at the crucifix fixed to the wall in front of them. “That’s what I’m afraid of too.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[writing-for-life]

Tales from the Flat Earth by Tanith Lee

A few thoughts on the supposed similarities with The Sandman—with actual comparisons (and a summary of the most important beats for those who want it)…

[This post is super long. It contains a lot of different thoughts, that’s why I broke it down into three parts: 1. General Considerations, 2. Boroson’s Claims and 3. A beat-by-beat summary of all five volumes of Tales from the Flat Earth. You might want to read this in instalments, or you might want to leave part three if you are still planning to read any of the five volumes.]

Part One: General Considerations

By now, many of you will have heard of Tanith Lee’s series “Tales from the Flat Earth”—not because the world all of a sudden woke up to a literary genius, but because of a Facebook post by Matthew Boroson in the immediate aftermath of the sexual assault allegations against Neil Gaiman. Boroson now made a further statement that he will “delete […] challenges so he can live”. I completely get the exhaustion of a post going viral—been there, got the T-Shirt—but why not just ignore it? Switch off notifications or comments altogether? Actively censoring only the people with different opinions, whom he even admits have mostly been engaging in good faith, because “he can’t do this 24/7”, while leaving up those in agreement (apparently he can do that 24/7)? He might not have thought through how bad this looks, and the irony of a man silencing dissenting voices and trying to control the conversation really shouldn’t be lost on people. But apparently, it is.

Anyway: I have absolutely no desire to defend Neil Gaiman. As should be clear from my blog, I stand with Gaiman’s victims and have done so since last summer when the allegations first broke. I believe those women, for both personal and professional reasons I won’t go into here. And I believe them, whether some author guy tells me I should or not. What grates on me is that this overshadows what’s actually important here, and I’ll get to why in a second.

I love Tanith Lee’s Tales from the Flat Earth and have read them first in the 1990s, and quite a few times since. For that very reason, I wish people would just read her work without trying to engage in a “gotcha” that is still all about Gaiman and not her. She was a great and talented writer who deserves more than now forever being known as “the woman whom Neil Gaiman plagiarised”. And to say it quite frankly: The sexual assault allegations can stand on their own and don’t need a male writer telling us, verbatim, “I have no difficulty believing the accusations against him. Because I know — KNOW — that he has felt entitled to take what he wants from a woman, without her permission, and without any acknowledgement of her contributions.”

I can’t even begin to say how problematic this statement is, for so many reasons. So all I’ll say is:

There is a certain tone-deafness in thinking a sexual assault claim holds even more weight because a male writer says, “See, he did this, so you should also believe that.” We should believe SA victims. Full stop. We don’t need wonky plagiarism or “inspiration without credit”-claims to give them more weight. These two things shouldn’t even be mentioned in the same sentence.

But all of that aside: Read Tanith Lee’s “Tales from the Flat Earth” because you are interested in a writer who crafted imaginative worlds in a florid prose-style that hearkens back to old fairy tales and Arabian Nights. If you only want to read it for a “gotcha”, I might be able to spare you the arduous work, although I strongly recommend you read it to come to your own conclusions (go to the source yourself. And I honestly wish more people did before they just blindly believe things). Again, spare a thought though if Tanith deserves to be “the woman NG plagiarised” to a new audience, because let’s be honest—that’s the only reason why so many people now read her works.

And that’s exactly why I thought so long and hard whether to even write this post, but there comes a point when people who actually know both works in depth need to speak up about the informational conformity bias that now has us at over 30,000 notes on Tumblr alone, all the while the person who put this into the world seems to actively censor anyone who dares to disagree. I get that Boroson’s claim is what a lot of people want to believe right now, but that doesn’t make it more true. Someone even said that “misinformation doesn’t matter in this case because only the result does.” That’s an incredibly dumb and also dangerous statement, but I’ll leave it at that.

Horrible people can create good art. We don’t need to pretend they were always hacks. We have to learn to sit with that cognitive dissonance and can disassociate ourselves from the creator regardless—because he’s an abuser.

Part Two: Boroson’s Claims

With all of that out of the road, let’s have a closer look at all that Boroson alleges in his FB post; quotes are verbatim.

1. “Despite the fact that the main character — a byronic, pale, otherworldly, deity-like character - is the prince of night and dreams.”

Here, we already have the first bit of wrong information. Azhrarn is one of the Lords of Darkness. He is the Prince of Demons. He is evil-aligned. He is not a “prince of dreams”. He is “Night’s Master” because he only walks the earth at night, and sunlight is lethal (oh?) for him. He is really nothing like Dream. One is all about rules and responsibilities, the other is about inconsistency, wickedness, mischief, changing his mind on a whim and treating humans as playthings (which he repeatedly admits himself). You could build a much stronger case for similarities between Azhrarn and Lucifer/Iblis (and Loki if you wanted to go Norse) than Dream, because Azhrarn actually hates the gods, and Lee’s whole series builds very strongly on how he (and then someone else) tries to bring them down. And Azhrarn might be older than gods, but whether he is truly more powerful depends on how you look at it—he even asks them for help at some point. Dream, on the other hand, is more than the gods. They begin in his realm, and they end there when people stop believing. Because gods come from the collective unconscious—and that’s who and what Dream is.

2. “Despite the fact that every time people see art depicting Tanith Lee's main character Azhrarn, they think it's Morpheus from the Sandman.”

This is interesting since the depiction Boroson chose for his FB claim is fanart. If you claim something like this, at least use original artwork, not works that have already gone through 20 subconscious filters. If you look at original art, you get this:

Azhrarn in the middle, Uhlume (Lord Death) to the right, Chuz (Lord Madness) to the left. And in the other picture, Azrharn in his eagle form. Which is just weird, soz. But that’s why he has feathers on his garb.

Maybe there’s a fleeting similarity in the one to the left, but there’s also literally none in the one to the right. And if you have ever read any dark fantasy of the 1980s and 90s (and even earlier), pretty much the majority of male protagonists fitted the stereotype of “pale, clad in black and byronic”. It was a dark fantasy trope—goths read that stuff in droves (I was one of them). And it became even more likely if the hero/antihero/villain was somehow aligned with the underworld. Which Azhrarn is.

And since artists are always influenced by other artworks and their own mental image of a character, have an actual description of Azhrarn’s looks from “Night’s Master”:

“marvelously handsome, with hair that shone like blue-black fire, and clothed in all the magnificence of night.”

But we also get this when he makes a not so great experience:

“He gazed to east and west, to north and south, and the face of Azhrarn, it is truly said, had become white. Long he looked, and long his pallor increased. A mortal man could not grow so pale and live.”

So we can reasonably deduce that he isn’t usually as white as Morpheus in his main form (I don’t know what else to call it)?

There are many other descriptions of a similar ilk. Is this really enough to say they look the same? Really? Instead of admitting that we might be filling in some blanks here if descriptions are so vague?

3. “Despite the fact that the dream lord's younger sibling is Death.”

That one truly made me laugh out loud. Apart from the fact that Gaiman’s Death is older and female (which one could say was a purposeful switch to “hide the tracks” 🙄)—only the least read people would assume this was in any way new or sensational and “borrowed” from any one particular writer. Hypnos (Sleep) and Thanatos (Death) are twin brothers in Greek mythology. And the closeness of Death and Dream in The Sandman (both conceptually and on a relational level) is much more of a mirror of that than the relationship between Azhrarn and Uhlume in Tales from the Flat Earth, because in all honesty: The latter two don’t get on that well, which Boroson conveniently forgets to mention. Their relationships are really nothing alike.

Hypnos is also a deity residing in the underworld, and you have to cross the river Lethe (forgetfulness/oblivion) to get to him. Lee borrows from that idea very heavily when she tells the story of Kazir visiting Azhrarn in Underearth. These are myths, told and retold by hundreds of writers over and over again, including Lee herself.

I don’t even know what to say about this one. It’s so thin that it immediately blows away if you as much as cough at it.

4. “Despite the fact that other members of his family include Delusion, Delirium.... They are not gods but beings older than gods, and when the gods die, Dream, Death, Delusion, and Delirium will remain. This family of immortal, eternal, unchanging beings, who each embody an eternal abstraction starting with the letter D.”

There are only two Lords of Darkness beginning with a D, and they are called Uhlume (Death) and Chuz (Delusion). Azhrarn is Wickedness.

There is no Dream, as I already stated. And guess what? There is also no separate Delirium. So wrong facts again. The character is Delirium’s Mistress (or at least that’s the title of the volume), and in that case, we are referring to her as being the lover of Chuz (so Delusion and Delirium are effectively the same person). And her name is Azhriaz; she is half human, half demon (and something else, but that would be too spoilery) and Azhrarn’s daughter. She looks like this in original artwork (sorry for the crappola photo):

Without wanting to give too much plot away because some of you might still want to read this: There are three Lords of Darkness (or one could argue five—more about that later) in Lee’s Tales, but they don’t all begin with a D—neither if you look at their names (their initials are A, U, C, K and A), nor at their functions (in which case it’s W, D, D, F and L).

Okay, the domains of two Lords of Darkness start with D. Is it really enough to be sure Gaiman borrowed from it, turning it into seven? Or is it perhaps far more likely that this still falls into the realm of literary archetypes? And even if Gaiman did expand on that idea—that’s not plagiarism (which, to say it very clearly, Boroson didn’t explicitly say it was. He just implied it a bit between the lines, and other people who probably didn’t read either ran with it). I don’t think it would even constitute “heavy borrowing”, especially since the characters, their relationships and the stories as such are so, so different.

Why is Boroson’s account riddled with inaccuracies? Why be so wrong in your descriptions of a work you supposedly know so well? I really don’t know. It’s either that he doesn’t know it as well as he says he does (which I can’t imagine, since he’s apparently been going on about this for years), or he purposefully misrepresents it to add more weight to it. Which looks bad to be honest. Or at least as if he’s a bit too taken with an idea and at the stage where he can’t let it go anymore.

5. “[…] description of a character who was clearly the inspiration for Gaiman’s Mazikeen.”

That’s also Chuz. As depicted in the art above, and also here:

One side of him is young and beautiful, the other old. I’ll let you decide if this is clearly the inspiration for Mazikeen:

“So she beheld the entire aspect of his face, one half youthfully bronzed, one half haggardly gray, the rusty hair and the blond, but it seemed to her it was the most natural face she had ever looked on.”

And to say it quite frankly: Framing it like that is a bit dishonest to start with? It’s not the description of “a character”. It’s the volume’s protagonist. Whom Boroson earlier insisted was the inspiration for Delirium (also a bit wonky that one, as I already wrote, since I bet most of the people who don’t know Lee’s work pictured her Delirium as a woman after reading Boroson’s account). But now it’s Mazikeen all of a sudden? Leaving out he’s actually talking about the same character here looks like wilfully obfuscating that neither of it truly holds water, so he’s picking little bits and offers them without context.

Mazikeen is a visual creation of Kelley Jones btw, so maybe Boroson should also take it up with him? The same could be said to everyone who might feel tempted to shoehorn a certain other character (DC’s Destiny) into this, woefully forgetting that Destiny is not a character created by Gaiman. He has existed in the DC Universe years before Lee wrote Tales from the Flat Earth. I don’t hear anyone complaining that Lee stole Kheshmet/Fate from DC because it would be quite frankly idiotic—these are literary archetypes!

6. “The prose, the characters, the narrative strategies, the mythology, the story structure, all of it: Gaiman found it all in Tanith Lee's writing and never gave her any credit.”

The prose is really hard to compare because one is a novel, the other a comic. I really recommend you read both yourself so you get the full picture, but just two examples here:

Tanith Lee:

“A mile from the enameled walls of the city, where the desert lay gleaming like golden glass, a beautiful woman sat in a stone tower, and she played with a bone.

“Will he come to me today?” she asked the bone, rocking it in her arms like a child. “Or will he seek me tonight? All the stars will shine, but he will shine more brightly. For sure, he dare not come by day, for he would outshine the sun. The sun would die of shame, and the whole world grow dark. But oh, he will come. Nemdur,” said the beautiful woman, “Nemdur, my lord.”

Her name was Jasrin; Nemdur was the king whose city stood one mile to the east. Once, he had been her husband.

No longer.”

Neil Gaiman:

As someone who’s read both many times over, my personal assessment is:

They are not very alike. Lee writes floridly, Gaiman is often fairly to the point. Even in Ramadan, which is one (out of 75!) issues that closest resembles the style of Arabian Nights (which is Lee’s inspiration), his voice seems distinct to me—as is hers. Lee’s prose always struck me as great, Gaiman’s as good (I always loved his world building more than his actual writing style). I think Lee’s prose is more accomplished, but that’s personal taste.

Characters: I already expanded on it.

Narrative strategy: This is so vague. Does he mean perspective? Point of view? Other narrative strategies like foreshadowing?

Since I don’t know what exactly Boroson is referring to because he likes to keep it nebulous, I really can’t say, but I don’t think the way the stories are told are in any way alike. And where they seem similar (“Night’s Master”, as an example, is told as interconnected stories in the style of Arabian Nights with a throughline. And of course the Sandman also contains some interconnected stories with a throughline, although they are in no way reminiscent of Arabian Nights to me, bar Ramadan), I seriously have to ask again:

Do we believe only one writer utilises these strategies and/or has a monopoly on them? Because there are truly only so many of them to go around. And we could say that Lee’s “narrative strategy” is hardly unique either. This is just a bit silly.

Mythology: Just no. Both Lee and Gaiman use themes that have been there a million times before them, I already brushed on it. Both lean heavily into existing mythologies, with Gaiman more into Greek, and Lee into Near- and Middle Eastern one (especially Mesopotamian/Babylonian—there are some parallels between her characters and deities like Nergal, Sin/Nanna and Ninazu), although they both also use others. But the bottom line is: Both have expanded on long existing mythologies.

Story structure: Again, what is Boroson insinuating here? He is truly the master of vagueness.

To say it very directly: The story structure is not the same. If you look at The Sandman in its entirety, it’s a clear three act tragedy with a lot of Hero’s Journey thrown-in. The fact that it’s told in 10 arcs changes nothing about that—you can clearly make out Campbell’s stages, like Call to Adventure, Crossing the First Threshold, Belly of the Whale… you name it. This is long enough already, but look at Campbell’s Hero’s Journey, and it’s fairly obvious (and no, the hero doesn’t always have to survive).

Tales from the Flat Earth have a throughline in their five volumes, but they are connected more loosely, with the odd referential throwback. Only “Delusion’s Master” and “Delirium’s Mistress” have an ongoing narrative (of sorts). “Night’s Sorceries” always seemed like an afterthought of material Lee would have liked in volume four but couldn’t fit in. They are all told in a way that hearkens back to oral storytelling (hence Lee saying she was inspired by 1001 Nights), and there is a clear sense of an unchanging, but not personally involved storyteller/narrator all the way through who sometimes even offers commentary.

7. “Tanith Lee was far more progressive about Igbtq+ identities, and that was twenty years earlier.”

Well, for starters: Ten years earlier (“Night’s Master” was published in 1978, the first issue of The Sandman in 1988).

Is Tales from the Flat Earth truly more progressive? I’m not sure. Both were progressive for their time, simply because they wrote about LGBTQ+ characters at all and gave them a voice. And to put it in a disclaimer: I don’t apply moral purity standards to fiction, neither do I believe certain things that would be problematic in real life can’t be written about in fiction (and dare I say: I find that take worrying, for many reasons, but that’s a different discussion). But if we’re talking about “progressiveness”:

A clearly bisexual Demon Prince grooms a child to then seduce him on his 16th birthday—in a time when gay men were often still thrown into one pot with groomers and even pedophiles?

A lesbian queen who basically gets cursed to have sex with many, many men because only a pregnancy can lift that curse (!), finds out she is barren and can only conceive if she has sex with a dead guy, makes a deal with Uhlume who then brings a man back from the dead so she can be impregnated and then, via many many twists and turns, turns into [I’ll tell you later if you really want to know]?

I don’t know, but it’d probably be the same people who find certain angles of the Sandman problematic who would also bolt or get outraged at this? And they would 100% engage in the same type of revisionist readings they now apply to Gaiman’s works if they ever found out that Lee did anything wrong. There is a lot, and I mean a lot, of rape, SA and questionable power dynamics in Lee’s work. But it’s also a work of fiction.

8. In the 1990s, toward the end of her life, she complained in an interview that magazines weren't buying her stories anymore.

[edit: Lee died in 2015, so Boroson’s claim the 90s were “towards the end of her life” also reads a bit weird to me—as if he’s consciously trying to appeal to the sympathy of his readers by portraying her as “the poor woman on her death bed”, when she still lived for another 20 years]

That’s a bit nebulous again. It’s amazing how some people never quote their sources. I am near certain that Boroson talks about this interview from 1998, but I stand corrected if it’s a different one:

Tanith talks about her troubles getting published, but she also says it’s a hard time for everyone right now. Plus, her bibliography also clearly indicates she still got published on the regular, and that the amount of works published in any given year didn’t really fluctuate all that much apart from a burst in the ‘70s (and “burst” refers to the difference of publishing four books instead of two per year), a dip towards the end of her life (when her output was probably affected by her illness) and then the sad thing that always happens when someone dies: Suddenly, there’s another uptick.

Someone even went through the trouble of visualising her published works in a graph:

Courtesy of Das_Mime

Does this honestly look like no one published her anymore?

Now, don’t get me wrong: Of course it is a nice gesture if those more successful put in a word for those who find themselves in a bit of dry spot. But to turn this almost into some conspiracy theory is just a bit weird if I’m honest. It’s much more likely that people are simply not on someone’s radar than that they are actively trying to hinder their career. Writing is hard. Getting published is hard, even if you already have a few published works under your belt. Ask me how I know…

These were the points Boroson made that I wanted to address directly. For those of you who want to get a feel if the story as such is actually in any way similar enough to even call it heavy borrowing, I’ll now do a summary of all major story beats for all five volumes.

Part Three: Tales from the Flat Earth Beat-by-Beat

I assume that most of my followers are familiar with The Sandman, but only a few with Tanith Lee. Hence I won’t do a summary of The Sandman, and once again: You really have to read both works yourself to understand why Boroson’s claims are so far out there. I’m more than willing to discuss and answer questions that come in good faith, but I’ll say it outright: I am not interested in engaging with anyone who just comes here to peddle conspiracy theories and platitudes like “misinformation doesn’t matter in this case because…” if they haven’t even read the works in question.

Just as a quick hint, because that’s where you’ll find the superficial similarities (and that’s my phrasing it with the utmost goodwill):

If you want to compare the entirety of both works, there’s no way around reading both.

For “Night’s Master”, I’d argue you also need to read the entirety of The Sandman, because in a nutshell, it is, at least at first glance, about the heel-face-turn of its protagonist. You’ll need at least Preludes and Nocturnes and The Kindly Ones, but it makes no sense to read them separately, so…

For “Death’s Master”, maybe read The Doll’s House and Season of Mists, because it is partly about a queen who wants to save her land (everything else would be too spoilery, but just so much: The similarities are fleeting at best, and that’s already generous).

For “Delusion’s Master”: Again The Doll’s House and Season of Mists, because at its very core we have a love story that gets torpedoed by a traitor. But other than that, said love story is truly nothing alike.

For “Delirium’s Mistress”: Honestly, I thought long and hard about this. I really don’t know because it is so different from the Sandman that I see absolutely no parallels at all. Maybe read Brief Lives, because there is something in there about parent/child relationships. But they are hardly unique in literature, so once again: I truly don’t know how anyone could find similarities here. And The Kindly Ones would be such an immense stretch that I won’t even go there.

For “Night’s Sorceries”: There are three stories that give a bit of context to the rest. If anything, I’d say read The Wake. But that would actually be insinuating Azhriaz is Daniel, and I’m like… no, massive stretch. If it’s just about loosely connected stories that somewhat fit into a greater narrative, read “World’s End”. But if we’re thinking that’s already a similarity, I truly cry for literary analysis…

Briefly about the world we’re in: The Flat Earth basically consists of four planes: Upperearth, home of the gods; Earth (the Earth of humans before it changed shape); Underearth, home of Azhrarn, Prince of Demons and Wickedness; Innerearth, home of Uhlume, Lord Death. Azhrarn’s kingdom, Druhim Vanashta, houses three classes of demons: Vazdru (most like Azhrarn himself, beautiful and prone to change into eagles and other animals), Eshva (basically mute servants to the Vazdru who can change gender at will) and Drin (ugly, exclusively male creatures and accomplished creators of beautiful and practical things). All three demon kind frequently visit earth to tempt and create chaos.

Volume One: Night’s Master

Night’s Master begins with Azhrarn finding a dying woman and her newborn son, Sivesh, on a hillside. After her death, Azhrarn becomes captivated by the beauty of the child and takes him back to Underearth to raise him (and then promptly seduces him on his 16th birthday). Azhrarn then creates a woman called Ferazhin from a flower for Sivesh (because, you know, Azhrarn thinks it’s good sport to sample a woman. As one does). However, nothing can prevent Sivesh from longing to live on earth because he is human, and the decision to leave Azhrarn for a life in the light offends the Demon Prince. So he consciously tricks him into death by drowning (by chapter three).

The next storyline shifts to a collar (crafted by a Drin) from Ferazhin’s tears because she is inconsolable. We follow the collar around on its journey to different owners (who all meet a gruesome end in one way or another). The final owner, the blind bard Kazir, is the only one not to get corrupted by it, and we conclude the first book with his journey to Underearth to give the collar back to Azhrarn in exchange for Ferazhin, whom he loves without ever having met her. Azhrarn agrees to let Ferazhin go if Kazir can answer a particular question, which he can (not going to get too deep into that, apart from: Azhrarn is rattled, and we’ll revisit it at the end of this volume). Kazir and Ferazhin are happy for a while, but as usual, Azhrarn changes his mind, and by the end of it, Ferazhin is dead (a bit of a nod to Romeo and Juliet in there, but that just as an aside). But lo and behold, Kazir manages to bring her back after a while, and “somewhere perhaps, some dark door slammed like thunder in a city underground.”

Book Two of Night’s Master focuses on Zorayas, who survived the overthrow of her father (a king) as a newborn but suffered severe disfigurement. After the death of the monk who took care of her, she seeks revenge for being raped by a Prince and takes back her father’s kingdom with the help of the Drin. And, as usual, she meets her demise through trickery orchestrated by Azhrarn.

Book Three. Azhrarn’s cruel prank on a young married couple goes wrong, escalates and ultimately leads to humanity teetering on the brink of destruction (the remnants of the husband turn into Hatred and wipe out everything). After seeking intervention from the gods of Upperearth in vain, Azhrarn makes, for once, a sacrifice to preserve humanity’s existence. But does he do so completely selflessly? Could be argued, and I guess Kazir knew, but that’d be too much of a spoiler… Suffice it to say, Earth enters an age of innocence without the presence of hatred and wickedness. Until… 🤣

Volume Two: Death’s Master

Narasen, Queen of Merh, is sexually assaulted by the magician Issak. Feigning cooperation, she manages to kill him. Before he dies, he curses Narasen and Merh, declaring that both will become barren. The curse can only be lifted if Narasen (we have deduced at this point that she is a lesbian because she “doesn’t lie with men”) gives birth to a child, but includes a stipulation that prevents this solution: “Your reluctant womb will never quicken from the seed of living man.” After numerous attempts to conceive, Narasen, driven by her desire to save her land and people, makes a deal with Uhlume to conceive a child from a dead man. In return, Narasen agrees to spend a thousand years in Uhlume’s kingdom. Narasen is poisoned shortly after childbirth.

After Narasen is locked in her tomb with her newborn child Simmu, Uhlume arrives to claim her, leaving the child behind. However, Simmu is rescued by two passing Eshva and lives with them by night. Simmu develops Eshva abilities, like changing gender at will. Eventually, the Eshva grow tired of Simmu and leave him at a temple near Merh, where he grows up among monks and becomes friends and later lovers with a boy called Zhirem.

Simmu and Zhirem eventually become separated and somewhat turn into the tools of Azhrarn (Simmu hates Death because he remembers him coming for his mother) and Uhlume, respectively.

Meanwhile, Uhlume and Narasen don’t get on too well—Narasen sets herself up as Lady Death and constantly struggles for power. To get her off his back, Uhlume grants her permission to spend a day in Merh, where she promptly destroys her city (yeah, after all that trouble…). Upon her return, she gradually takes over the supervision of Innerearth from Uhlume and turns into “Lady Death.”

Azhrarn saves Simmu during Narasen’s attack on Merh. He instructs Simmu to obtain water from the Cistern of Life (a little throwback to volume one). His plan is to kill Uhlume, hence bringing death to an end. The well is guarded by nine virgins called the Golden Daughters—Simmu makes use of his gender-changing abilities and sneaks into each of their chambers as a woman and then takes their virginity as a man. With their virginity taken, the well cracks, and Simmu founds the City of Simmurad (populated by immortal humans) with the golden daughter Kassafeh (too long-winded to get into it all).

Zhirem has embarked on his own adventures and eventually returns to Earth as the magician Zhirek. He agrees to serve Uhlume, who plans to destroy Simmurad, perceiving it as a threat. With the guidance of Azhrarn, who has grown weary of Simmu and Simmurad (you see, Azhrarn is not very consistent and doesn’t abide by rules nor responsibilities like our boy Morpheus 😉), Uhlume lets Zhirek destroy the city by submerging it under water after re-introducing death via creating and killing an insect. Simmu seemingly dies at the hands of Zhirek, who casts him into a well of fire. Zhirek retires into solitude, and Simmu is ultimately saved by Azhrarn, who transforms him into an Eshva and erases all memories of his past.

The story concludes with Narasen effectively ruling Innerearth and giving death, while Uhlume spends most of his time on Earth, finding solace in the presence of Kassafeh.

Volume Three: Delusion’s Master

We’re starting with a tale about Jasrin, the young wife of King Nemdur of Sheve. Because she is jealous of her newborn child, she abandons him in the desert, where he gets killed by dogs. Nemdur banishes Jasrin to a tower, where her sanity gradually deteriorates. She is visited by Chuz, the Prince of Madness (the third Lord of Darkness). Inquiring about her deepest desires, Jasrin expresses her wish for her husband to share her madness. Nemdur awakens with a crazy plan to construct a towering structure that reaches Upperearth (where the gods live). Inspired by the legend of Simmu, he envisions attaining immortality. The Tower of Babyhelu, aptly named “The Gate to the Gods,” grows and grows until it becomes unstable due to its immense weight, causing it to collapse with catastrophic consequences: The fall of the entire kingdom of Sheve.

Azhrarn and a few of his demons are drawn to the commotion, and a conversation between him and Chuz reignites Azhrarn’s disdain for the gods, who had failed to assist him in “Night’s Master”.

Hundreds of years later, we meet 7,000 pilgrims on their journey across the desert to worship the gods at Bhelsheved (Sheve rebuilt). Azhrarn is incensed that his sacrifice to save humanity in “Night’s Master” is credited to the gods. Disguised as a prophet, he reveals that a Lord of Darkness (not the gods) is the true saviour of humanity. For this, he is lashed with a whip and sheds three drops of blood. Azhrarn continues with his quest to destroy Bhelsheved but is unexpectedly diverted by the beauty of a young priestess named Dunizel. Recognising Azhrarn’s true intentions, Dunizel bravely offers to sacrifice herself to appease his wrath. Azhrarn turns into a wolf and bites off her lower arm, but when she encourages him to bite again instead of showing terror, he hesitates. Reminiscing about his own sacrifice to Hatred, he changes his mind, heals her with his own blood, and falls deeply in love with her.

We then learn the story of Dunizel’s mentally disabled mother, who was held captive by the assistant of an astronomer (who was on a field trip to observe a comet passing by). After impregnating the girl, the assistant attempted to abort the child by exposing her to the comet’s energy as it passed. The girl was instead exposed to a rainbow of light captured by the astronomer’s magical engine, regained her sanity and gave birth to Dunizel, who was also affected by the comet’s light. Dunizel’s mother raised her but gradually transformed into a fire elemental and ascended into the sky. The assistant gave Dunizel to a grieving mother from a nearby village, who raised her until she was chosen to join the religious cult (like her mother, she is also part solar being).

We are panning back to the love story of Dunizel and Azhrarn. Dunizel gives birth to a daughter named Soveh, who is initially mistaken for a goddess on Earth and grows at unnatural speed. Through the workings of Chuz though, the truth about the child’s paternity is revealed, and Dunizel dies at the hands of an angry mob (she also comes into contact with one of the drops of blood Azhrarn had formerly shed in the desert). Devastated, Azhrarn takes Soveh, whom he renames Azhriaz, to Underearth. Before he departs, he addresses Chuz and declares their relationship as “un-brothers, un-cousins, and now, un-friends”. He also reveals he will go to war with him and considers it a kindness he has informed him in advance.

The story concludes with Chuz finding Jasrin, who is haunting her tower, and releasing her.

Volume Four: Delirium’s Mistress

So if you waited for this to start with all-out war between Azhrarn and Chuz, you’ll be disappointed. We meet Oloru, a court jester to tyrannical prince Lak Hezoor. Oloru convinces Lak Hezoor to take him on a sightseeing tour of Underearth. It’s not going well—Lak Hezoor is torn apart by Azhrarn’s red hounds. Oloru transforms into a “slender rod of yellow radiation, vaguely purplishly limned” and flies towards the island where young adult Azhriaz has been sleeping since her arrival in Underearth (it’s a been a few years). Oloru, who is actually Chuz in disguise, awakens her, convinces her to escape, and takes her back to Earth. And of course they become lovers.

Kheshmet (King Fate) enters the story, just like that, and in no time, Azhrarn arrives and ends his quarrel with Chuz— also just like that. But to atone, Chuz has to agree to live a mortal lifetime, disfigured, without his powers and truly mad. Azhriaz initially stays with Chuz, but he forgets who she is.

Azhriaz, now without Chuz, despairs. She visits her mother’s grave with Khesmet and decides to embrace her father’s legacy: discrediting the gods. She replaces a king who committed suicide and ascends to the status of a cruel goddess on Earth, conquering much of the world who revels in her cruelty. Her teachings to humanity are that the gods care nothing for them: “Remember, to the gods, you are nothing. To Azhriaz, the Goddess, you are only grains of dust or sand.”

Khesmet arrives to foretell a looming war with sea and sky.

And weirdly, that war starts because a god, whom Azhrarn kissed in “Night’s Master”, awakens and decides that was sacrilege, plus he’s also not pleased with Azhriaz’s activities on Earth. The gods consequently hurl three shards into the sun that transform into three angels—the Malhukim of the gods: Ebriel, Yabael and Melquar. Azhrarn holds the angels at bay while Azhriaz escapes into the ocean aboard a special fish-ship crafted by the Drin, pursued by Ebriel and Yabael. Azhrarn fights Melquar in the air and narrowly avoids incineration. Azhriaz escapes imprisonment in an underwater city when Yabael destroys it with his sword. She receives no assistance from Azhrarn because he lies in a death-like coma in Druhim Vanashta and has been usurped by the demon Hazrond. Eventually, Azhrarn recovers and reclaims his kingdom. Azhriaz is still pursued by Yabael, who conveniently undergoes a transformation and forgets his mission in the process. Then pursued by Ebriel, she travels with Dathanja (Zhirek making a reappearance) and ultimately engages in an eternal battle with the angel. Realising she’ll be otherwise stuck there forever, she convinces Ebriel to stop by revealing her plan to give up her immortality.

Ebriel departs, snd Azhriaz (who is actually called Atmeh at this point, but that’d lead too far) seeks out Kassafeh for a bargain with Uhlume (who is in the process of abdicating to Narasen) to become mortal. She reunites with Chuz, who has paid his penance, and they stay together for a while until Chuz helps her with her final transformation into a mortal woman.

Atmeh/Azhriaz approaches death after 200 years or so, and is visited by Azhrarn, who tells her, “Humanity is my plaything no longer, only a toy for those that are mine under the earth. But you, you are her child. You are hers. You are Dunizel. Not mine. Never mine. Though I made you to be my curse upon the world. Though I made you to be myself. You are Dunizel, that I loved, Dunizel who was the moon and sun together.” Azhrarn expresses his sadness over his inability to cry, and Azhriaz responds: “Each word you have spoken has been a tear.”

Volume Five: Night’s Sorceries

I wasn’t sure if I should even go into this one, because “Delirium’s Mistress” always seemed like the final volume to me to be honest, and it concluded the story for me. “Night’s Sorceries” is a collection of short stories that seem connected to “Delirium’s Mistress” and fill in some gaps (that’s why each of them has an introduction that explains where we are, and when). So I will only go into three of them (there are seven altogether):

“The Prodigal” is essentially about Narasen’s reign as Queen Death.

“Dooniveh, The Moon” is written like a fairy tale about a monk from Nannafir. He travels to the moon on a winged horse, and by the end of his adventures, we witness the wedding of the Moon Queen and the Sun King. And that’s connected how? Well, the winged horse was a gift from Hazrond (who usurped Azhrarn) to Azhriaz.

“The Daughter of the Magician,” recounts the tale of a magician who successfully resurrects the soul of Azhriaz. But the child, named Ezail, ends up being offered as a sacrifice to a monster. And that’s connected how? Well, the monster was created as the counterpart of the winged horse in “Dooniveh, The Moon.” But Ezail regains Azhriaz’ memory and lo and behold, Chuz just happens to appear in the reincarnation of a young boy named Chavir. Together, they decide to take the monster with them and embark on a life together.

The main reason I did include this volume is that it somewhat puts the former four in context. The last sentence of “Night’s Sorceries” is:

“Love is also an immortal.”

Which somewhat suggests that Azhriaz is operating on the same plane as Azhrarn, Uhlume, Chuz and Kheshmet. And we already get hints at that in the other volumes.

In “Delusion’s Master”, Azhrarn says to Dunizel that their child will be his feminine aspect. It’s just ambiguous enough, but we also get this in “Delirium’s Mistress” when Azhrarn wonders about love: “There is no such commodity. There is carnality, our plaything. There is worship, and there is obsession. Death you may perceive walking the world, and Fate, and Delusion, too, in a form that I have kindly granted him. But no man sees love, and no demon sees it.”

So while many of the stories of Tales from the Flat Earth can stand on their own, there is also an overarching theme: Establishing another power that serves to balance out the others: Wickedness, Death, Delusion, and Fate—Azhriaz’ four “sons” (cryptically mentioned in the final chapter of Delirium’s Mistress)...