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ourgreatergood · 1 year

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I posted 545 times in 2022

That's 450 more posts than 2021!

20 posts created (4%)

525 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@cinnamoncountess

@yumbledore

@folklorealbus

@love-arrogance-naivety

@lemon-drops-and-acid-pops

I tagged 82 of my posts in 2022

#grindeldore - 38 posts

#gellert grindelwald - 24 posts

#fb - 22 posts

#nicolas fantastic fanfiction - 21 posts

#hp - 18 posts

#albus dumbledore - 18 posts

#fantastic beasts - 15 posts

#tsod - 11 posts

#nicolas ordinary life - 9 posts

#tsod spoilers - 9 posts

Longest Tag: 67 characters

#i posted this on 4th of july 2019 and just stumbled across it again

My Top Posts in 2022:

I wrote a little something inspired by Heaven (from the OST of Secrets of Dumbledore) - of course it’s about Albus and Gellert.

It may contain some spoilers for Secrets of Dumbledore, though, so beware!

33 notes - Posted April 9, 2022

if you take angstier prompts: perhaps something with Dumbledore actually being seriously hurt after his battle with Credence/Aurelius, and Grindelwald having some weird angst session about it? (like he still was the one who sent him after Dumbledore with the intent of Dumbledore dying, but when it now becomes a real possibility, he realizes that he really doesnt want him dead?)

Thank you very much! So, I changed the set up a bit because it gave me a reason to explore a theory of mine concerning Gellert’s intentions with Credence, but I tried to capture the gist of Gellert’s angst session! Hope you enjoy! (Also yes, I tried to keep the technicalities of all the magical aspects very vague here bc it would’ve turned too long and honestly I have no idea how everything’s going to work out, either, don’t mind that.)

It was funny how Sight and reality could deviate. When he’d set up the boy to combat Albus he had done so with the conviction that Aurelius would never actually be able to harm Albus. Not clever, powerful Albus. Not Albus, who could shake the world with a flip of his wand. That was exactly why he’d set Credence up to do it.

Hurting Albus physically, magically was almost impossible. (Except for himself, Gellert knew.) But there were a million other ways to hurt a man and Gellert knew all of them and then some more for Albus, simply because he knew him so intimately.

Set up a boy he cares about to fight him. Force him to relive the moment they’d all lost control, yet Gellert was the one to be blamed for. Force him to hurt the boy. All that would do more damage to Albus than any spell ever could, he’d been sure of it.

Of course, he knew that Aurelius would never stand a chance against Albus, despite his vision. Admittedly, he had been curious about how it would play out. How Fate would fit in with the reality he was creating.

He had not expected this, though.

As always, he had forgotten about Albus’s stupid noble heart. Perhaps it was because he could not even imagine the kindness Albus was willing to show that he always underestimated this part of the equation, but once again it had literally blown up in his face.

How in Merlin’s name should he have anticipated that Albus was willing to die for that stupid boy? How could he have imagined that Albus would take the whole blow of the Obscurus and some strange magic Gellert had never seen before but that he was sure Albus had come up with, with the help of Scamander?

Now that his plan had worked out (it hadn’t since this had never really been his plan to begin with) and Fate was seeming to get her way, he realised that he’d been wrong once again. The fear he’d felt, when he’d had that vision was not because of his opponent. It was the cruel, cold fist of fear that was now squeezing his chest at the sight of Albus, pale and motionless and bleeding, lying on the ground, his friends and his brother rushing towards him.

Aurelius, perfectly fine, probably even better than ever before sat on the ground not far from them, dumbstruck at what had happened. It was Aberforth – of course it was – who dared to call out to him and ask if he was all right and Gellert was uncomfortably reminded of a similar afternoon, a lifetime ago it seemed, only that Albus had slipped his hand in his and asked him in a shaky whisper to please, stay and let me explain.

Albus wasn’t moving now. Theseus Scamander was steadily casting Renervate at his chest and Eulalie Hicks was cushioning his bleeding head on her cloak, but nothing happened.

Even from the other side of the plaza he’d felt Albus’s magic vibrating in the air all around them, before. It had been so distinctly familiar that it had almost driven him crazy, but now there was nothing. His own magic was searching, almost desperately, for that familiar trace, for the strings so intricately connected to his own but came up empty.

A feeling unknown to him, like a dark shadow surfacing from the depths of his being, began to rise in his body, constricting his lungs and throat, squeezing his chest, replacing his blood with ice water.

He was constantly surrounded by death these days, he’d told the members of alliance time and again that Albus was the greatest danger to their cause, when he’d been angry, he’d imagined hurting him, but now the prospect of Albus, the only person on this damn earth that it was really worth talking to, the only one, who’d ever been able to understand his mind, the only one, who’d ever known him – gone?

No, he’d never wanted this. He didn’t want this. That stubborn fool couldn’t leave him alone in this shameful world!

If he refused to see how brilliant they could be together for the rest of his damn life, fine, but he couldn’t leave him for good! Albus couldn’t just take his only connection away like that by dying.

He only noticed that his body had started shaking from the tension in his muscles, when Vinda touched his arm, muttering: “We should go.”

“No, wait,” he told her, still observing how Albus’s friends were trying to breathe life back into him. He knew they wouldn’t let him approach them and he couldn’t be seen helping Albus Dumbledore, but all his impulses were pushing him to stride over and pour out all his magic and remind Albus’s blood that it was still bound to earth, bound to life.

“The Aurors will be here soon,” Vinda said. And she was right. They needed to be gone soon, but he couldn’t as long as he wasn’t sure that Albus would live. He watched as Aurelius slowly, carefully stumbled over to the group of people surrounding Albus and for the second time that day he witnessed magic he had never seen before. (He wasn’t sure anyone had seen it before; they were definitely pushing the boundaries of known magical territory.)

He would never understand what it was with phoenixes and the Dumbledores but for a moment he did not care. There was blinding red and gold like a flame and then he could feel the familiar presence of Albus’s magic filling the plaza again, no matter how weak it seemed, and the next moment a dozen Aurors apparated all over the place.

Vinda’s eyes had already widened with fear, when he finally gave her permission to go, following with merely a last glance at Albus’s slowly moving form.

37 notes - Posted March 5, 2022

Promise

This is for @darkangelis, who requested: They meet in secret throughout the war because they can’t stay away from each other but Albus feels so guilty about it he starts to suffer from panic attacks. They normally happen after Gellert has left but one time Albus can’t stop one coming on while he’s still there. Gellert comforts him through it.

I absolutely LOVED writing this, it was very therapeutic and I do love making Albus suffer, so thank you very much for this! I hope you enjoy it!

TW panic attacks

Albus was wondering time and again how he got into all the comfortable hotel rooms in various countries on the continent and in the end he always came up with one simple answer: He wanted to.

He wanted to, even though he knew it was wrong. He wanted to, even though he knew that no decent man would’ve ever done it. He wanted to, even though he despised himself for it.

He never told anyone about it, naturally. Who could he tell? Nobody would understand and the shame he felt over it was so overwhelming that it sealed his lips tightly shut. Perhaps that was the reason for the increasingly severe sessions of discomfort that had started to follow those encounters with Gellert. (Perhaps discomfort was not quite right considering that his throat was so constricted he couldn’t breathe and his body was shaking so much he wasn’t even sure it was his own anymore.)

Back when he’d been eighteen and broken after that summer Nicolas had told him that speaking about it, no matter how hard or impossible it seemed, would relieve him. He’d been right. He’d poured it all out one night, fully expecting Nicolas to tell him what he already knew: that there was something wrong with him. But Nicolas had done no such thing. He’d been kind and understanding and encouraging and somehow that had saved him.

But he wasn’t eighteen anymore and none of this could be blamed on youthful carelessness, on accidents or ignorance. He knew perfectly well who Gellert was and he knew perfectly well what he was doing. Not even Nicolas could tell him there was no shame in that.

He forgot about all that, the moment Gellert kissed him. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, no matter how much he’d tried to suppress it, his heart was longing for it. He was suddenly reminded that his whole being wanted nothing more but to be with Gellert. He remembered everything he’d dreamed of as a boy, of Gellert by his side, of them growing old together. He certainly hadn’t imagined it like this, but if this was all that he would get, he had to take it, no matter how much it hurt him, no matter how wrong it was.

In the beginning a small part of him had hoped that perhaps, Gellert would change his mind, leave his path and return to him, but their irregular meetings continued for more than three decades now and if anything Gellert had become only more determined with his cause.

They weren’t meeting very often, they couldn’t afford it and Albus suspected that the long breaks were doing nothing for his emotional stability. It was always enough time to let him get over the dark pit of guilt and shame and contempt he fell into right after such an encounter. It was even enough time to let him forget how much it hurt every time Gellert left, every time he had to beat himself up afterwards. It was so much time that his heart started missing Gellert again, despite everything. So much time that, when he made a fascinating magical discovery, he instantly thought of sharing it with Gellert until the second passed and reality crept back in that he could not simply tell Gellert about it.

Sometimes this downward spiral was delayed when he heard especially atrocious rumors about what Gellert and his Alliance were doing and he was forcefully reminded of all the blood on Gellert’s hands but even that could not deter him, whenever he found himself faced with a chance encounter or one of Gellert’s subtle invitations. (It was the only dignity he could retain: He would never ask for a meeting, although lately he wasn’t sure anymore if it didn’t make him more pathetic that he came running each time Gellert called.)

Now, though, he found himself once again in a hotel room in a small French village near Versailles (of all places, of course!) with his robe on the floor and Gellert’s hands all over his body.

It was what he would’ve dreamed of at eighteen. A cozy room, a warm summer breeze toying with the curtains leading out to the balcony, a rich country. Foolishly, he’d not imagined a war, he’d not imagined the most powerful wand in the world to have drawn so much blood just the day before Gellert was running it up his leg, vanishing his undergarments.

Gellert’s teeth were grazing the crook of his neck and he felt the thrill of it running through his body, but it was oddly distant. Gellert’s hands and lips on his skin, which had been fire before, emptied his head and had him craving more were suddenly obscured by numbness. Before he knew what was happening, before he could try to do anything about it, his breath was coming in shallow gasps – not of the good kind -, he desperately tried to fill his lungs with oxygen but not air could reach it, his throat was constricted. He could feel his body shaking and tears escaping his eyes, running down his cheeks of their own volition.

“Albus?” He could hear Gellert’s voice, could even recognize the concern in it but he couldn’t speak. His body had forgotten how to obey him, how to do anything but shake with the uncontrollable feeling of dread and doom that was filling out his chest.

“Albus!” Gellert’s hand found his and he could squeeze it, so tightly he was almost worried he could hurt Gellert, but he couldn’t let go. Once his hand had closed around it, it refused any commands his hazy mind might make.

“It’s all right, Albus. Breathe. Slowly.”

Uncontrollable, embarrassing sobs were escaping his mouth as he desperately tried to do as Gellert told him. He tried to get a hold of his breathing again, tried to suck in air slowly.

“Albus. You’re safe, you’re all right. Breathe in and out. In and out.” Gellert was squeezing his hand back, while he was slowly succeeding in slowing down his breathing. “Hey, do you remember the first time we met? You had the tale of the three brothers memorized… There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight.”

“In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across,” his mind supplied automatically. He could feel the tears subside and his body stopped shaking. “However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water.” He could feel Gellert’s hand in his again, the room came into focus again and with it Gellert’s face. His body was listening to him again. He loosened the grip on Gellert’s hand and drew a few shaky but controlled breaths before he slowly sat up.

Gellert pulled the sheets over them and leaned back against the headrest of the bed, while Albus ran his hands over his face and tried to collect the rest of his sanity.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He felt drained like all energy had been plucked from his body. Here he was now, in a hotel room in France, naked with Europe’s most wanted man next to him and all he wanted was to be somewhere else, to be someone else. He could feel tears rising in his throat again and closed his eyes. It was embarrassing enough to have been so vulnerable in front of Gellert once today, he could not bear a second time. But Merlin, he was sure that this war, that Gellert, that his own despicable traitorous heart would break what he’d tried to put back together years ago.

“Don’t be. Did I do anything – ?” Gellert asked.

He took the hands from his face and shook his head and he almost had to laugh. “No.” He turned his head to look at Gellert, who was watching him curiously (he even imagined there was still a concerned spark in his eyes). “No, it was nothing you did. This just – happens sometimes.”

Of course, it was everything Gellert did outside of this room, outside of this bed. Of course, it was everything Albus didn’t do. It was everything he did do with Gellert. He leaned back against the headrest as well. They wouldn’t be doing a lot today, at least.

“It wasn’t always this bad,” Gellert said and he was right. When he’d been younger, there had been occasions when it had been hard to breathe, when he’d felt similar dread take over his body and he’d taken to recounting magical laws and literature in his head to get through it, but it had been controllable.

“No, that is a recent development,” he sighed.

“Why do you think that is?”

See the full post

40 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

if you take anon prompts, how about Gellert realizing his feelings for Albus? Perhaps he previously though he only wanted to manipulate Albus to make him stay, but suddenly he realizes that his feelings actually are real ones.

Thank you very much! I am taking anon prompts, always feel free to send them! :) this turned into a bit of a character study for Gellert, but I do hope you enjoy it!

It was fascinating. Albus was the most brilliant person in the world. His mind was sharp and precise like a razor blade, yet vast and creative and unconventional. He was the only person really worth talking to, if one was to ask Gellert. And he was so magnificently powerful, too. The way Albus did magic, felt magic was the most beautiful, intriguing spectacle Gellert had ever witnessed. Magic flowed through Albus like blood, he directed the matter around him effortlessly, he altered the earth with a flick of his wrist, he took the most ancient incantations and made them his own.

Albus was everything he had never dreamed to find. An equal in mind and might. Someone he’d never thought could even exist.

It was dazzling, thrilling, that he had chosen a path of fate that led him right to Albus. It was exactly what his plans had needed, without his knowing. What the world had needed.

And yet Albus was so different. He had a warm, noble heart and a kind soul, so much that Gellert sometimes wondered how a mind like his could bear the confinement of his virtue. For all his brooding and rightful bitterness that came with the duty of caring for his siblings, he sternly refused any talk of abandoning them. Albus was patient with even the most dimwitted of people (Gellert was sure that Aberforth was the only one to ever successfully push him into losing his temper.) and he tried to see light in even the darkest of people. Muggles had ripped his family apart and yet, he did not harbor any intimate rancour against them.

Gellert would have thought it foolish if it hadn’t been Albus. He could not say that he agreed with Albus’s gentleness, but he knew that he didn’t have to, anyway. Their plans remained the same and he was more than happy to let Albus care for the muggles in their scheme, while he cared for wizardkind. That’s what they did after all - complement each other. That was why they would change the world for the better, they would create a world for all of humanity. They bore that responsibility together. For The Greater Good, as Albus had so fittingly put it.

He had to admit it took him a few days longer than it usually did to notice the way Albus was looking at him. Not because Albus was very good at hiding it. He was not. Actually, for such a private person, for all the secrecy he’d lived with since he was a young child, for someone with such rhetoric skill - he was exceptionally bad at hiding his affection.

No, he merely had been so caught up in his own admiration for Albus that he hadn’t realized what the faint nervous flutter of Albus’s magic meant, whenever they were especially caught up in an intense debate. Or the lingering stares or the more frequent excuses to touch, however innocently. It was by accident (almost) that he discovered Albus was a lot more lenient with his more forceful suggestions, when they were touching while discussing them (even if it was only their knees brushing, or his arm on the headrest of Albus’s chair).

He respected Albus more than anybody else, so he was reluctant to use this advantage too often. And he was also aware that while Albus was even more willing than usual to see brightness in him, where he was sure was only dark, Albus was no fool and would not simply be played.

He had to admit it sent a very pleasant rush of power through him to have the single other most powerful wizard of their time at his fingertips, willing to be pushed, surrendering control to him. He was sure, Albus was inclined to do anything (almost anything) he would ask of him.

And yet, he had to wonder, why he was so reluctant to play those strings of Albus’s heart whenever the opportunity arose. He’d discovered that a simple kiss could make Albus forget about a lot of admonitions and yet he had rather spent an evening discussing the morales and necessities of the Imperius curse.

Later that night in bed, he examined his uncharacteristic hesitancy and all he could stumble upon were Albus’s crystal blue eyes that shone with so much warmth and affection that it sent an odd sensation right to his stomach.

He had never considered… any of his feelings, really. He got angry sometimes, furious, so much that hot rage was the only thing to fill his body and he had to act on his impulses then. He felt dread when he could feel a vision nearing and often even afterwards. He felt excitement and triumph, when he accomplished academic goals or succeeded in overcoming a particularly difficult problem. Rarely, he could even feel his pride, most prominently, when it had taken a blow.

But apart from that?

He knew that Albus had fallen in love with him, but he had never stopped to consider what it felt like to be loved by the only human he admired.

He thought of Albus’s warmth again. Of the twinkling of his eyes, of the tenderness with which his fingertips had traced the lines on his hand only yesterday. He thought of the pleasure of being so thoroughly understood that he sometimes felt like his mind was directly connected to Albus’s. He thought of the strange new desire that had overcome him to feel Albus’s lips on his the other day.

He had never felt like that for anyone.

It was an early evening, when he realized that, despite his certainty that love, which had been oustandingly absent from his life until then, was not for him - perhaps, Albus would show him yet another kind of magic.

They knew each other three weeks now, of which they had spent every possible second in each other’s company and had filled their absence with a steady flow of letters. He felt like he knew Albus inside out and the only topic he had ever expressed reluctance for was divination.

Yet, when Gellert collapsed in the middle of his room, in the middle of an animated discussion with a vision, that was so forceful he had no chance to control it in any way, Albus caught him.

He didn’t ask stupid questions. He didn’t try to stop him from shaking with dread after icy fear had been the dominant theme of his vision. Albus didn’t doubt him, not even for a second.

He held him until the shaking stopped and listened to what he’d seen with a very serious, very thoughtful expression.

“What do you think?” He asked, perhaps a little harshly and Albus blinked. He knew he’d dragged him out of a very complex thought process, but Gellert knew that Fate and Sight did not work systemically as he’d liked it and he didn’t need Albus trying to figure out what could not be figured out yet.

“I think that I want to be there, whenever this happens to you again. I hope I can be there,” Albus said, squeezing his hand, almost as if he was making a request.

Something shifted then. It wasn’t magic, at least he thought it wasn’t, but he noticed clearly that strings inside him vibrated and wove together that he hadn’t known before. Somehow his chest was filled with emotions that wanted to spill out of him and the only one that he could recognize was relief. He hadn’t even known he’d feared Albus’s rejection of this part of him he knew he would understand the least. But now that Albus was looking at him only with love and worry and a little bit of wonder, the overwhelming desire to kiss him, overcame him again.

Kiss him, drown in him, become one with him. He’d never felt the urge to be so close to someone before. He’d never felt his heart beating like that before. He’d never felt so complete before.

And he knew that he wanted to be with Albus for the rest of his life. He simply, purely wanted it for the sake of his beating heart.

47 notes - Posted February 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Okay, since I wrote that long rant about how I imagine Albus being neurodivergent (more specially autistic and suffering from anxiety) and how it’s always prevalent in my mind, whenever I write him, I’m also sharing it on here:

‪I think it’s especially apparent in his relationship with his siblings (apart from the whole world calling him “eccentric” multiple times), but I always imagine that Aberforth (who I imagine to be incredibly empathetic) is very good with ‬Ariana bc they’re just well neurotypical kids (until Ariana’s incident) and Albus is - well - not. Always caught up in books, which to me, read: hyperfixation, which other kids consider weird and which adults consider adorable up to a point where he seems to be almost anti social bc he is so caught up in his mind that he doesn’t play with the other kids (I magine Kendra to be very ambiguous here too, very proud of her ‘gifted child’ but also at dinner she’d say things like “don’t you have anything else to talk about but that fairy tale?”, “you should go and play with the other kids more often” and he’d say “yes mother”, but really he’d feel very much like an alien in his own home) and Aberforth is just accepting him the way he is, he’s the one, who punches other kids, if they make fun of his weird brother, he’s the one, who listens to Albus’s ramblings about the three brothers even though he doesn’t care about it

And then Ariana is attacked and everythings falls apart and Aberforth is so good with Ariana bc he is just good at accepting people the way they are and Albus is terrified bc even with healthy people he always seems to say the wrong stuff at the wrong time, how is he supposed to interact with Ariana, who seems to have a breakdown at the littlest thing?

And then he goes to school and he’s brilliant and admired and suddenly his gift and power outweighs his eccentricities and he is kind and friendly and polite enough that people like him and his friends are nice and also he’s learned that people don’t want to hear hour long deliberations about fairy tales or dragons or magic, no matter how fascinating he finds it, he has learned the technicalities of lying, of keeping secrets, of holding back, not only because Mother told him to, but also because not revealing his true self was usually the best option, bc no matter how nice people seemed, they still made him feel alien one way or another, wether that is because he talked a little too much about transfiguration, because he can’t stop his leg from bouncing bc he doesn’t even notice but other people do and they find it annoying or simply bc as much as they don’t understand him, he doesn’t get what they’re on about either with their parties and ever changing love interests and gossip, but he learns to seem interested

I also imagine him learning legilimency initially in hopes to understand the people around him more, to connect with his family more, but it ultimately ends up (mostly) with people being annoyed bc he’s looking into their heads

And Aberforth, obviously also very much burdened by the fate of the family and angry about pretty much everything bc what are they even doing? Does love his brother and he knows how he is, but he also needs his older brother and he really has zero nerves to spare and Ariana needs his care while Albus seems to be sufficiently great at school and he really doesn’t understand why it’s so difficult for Albus to be good at school but not good at home, when they all love him

And then Mother dies and Gellert arrives and Gellert is the first and only person, who doesn’t make him feel like an alien, he actually likes to hear Albus’s thoughts, even for hours on end on the same topic (the Hallows for one, Gellert can talk about just as much, so he doesn’t even feel guilty or like a burden, bc he can actually believe he is not too much for Gellert) and how incredible is that? And Gellert is understanding, Gellert knows how his mind works bc his is the same! And what he’s feeling for Gellert is amazing but also so overwhelming and he really cannot focus on his siblings’ needs, which are a whole different can of worms (here comes in anxiety bc how in the name of Merlin is he supposed to manage that? And change is hard anyway and he’d just planned this whole tour and it should have been him shining and all, how everyone has always predicted and he really doesn’t want to be responsible bc he also not good at it, but magic, that’s what he’s good at)

48 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

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l4venderf4iry · 1 year

Text

I posted 558 times in 2022

That's 558 more posts than 2021!

18 posts created (3%)

540 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@fleurfairie

@faeology

@creelteeth

@poppy-metal

@vampieteeth

I tagged 469 of my posts in 2022

Only 16% of my posts had no tags

#steve harrington - 197 posts

#steve <3333 - 71 posts

#taylor swift - 40 posts

#joe keery - 27 posts

#my stevie boy - 22 posts

#midnights - 19 posts

#robin buckley - 17 posts

#stranger things - 17 posts

#eddie spaghetti - 15 posts

#steve harrington x reader - 11 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#and robin is just a stranger person who comes to court sometimes but lives out near the edge of the kingdom where nancy goes onto sometimesz

My Top Posts in 2022:

imagine going to an aquarium with steve. he would talk to the animals there. if prompted he WILL have a full conversation with the fish that keeps bubbling at him. he's the one that always reads the name/description plates them spew out random facts when you point to the animal you like the most :) and and he keeps his arm around your waist or gently holds your hand in his and either you pull him or he pulls you to where you want to go </3 he gets there super early, like you get up and go get breakfast at a local sit-down restaurant and get there as the aquarium opens and you're there for when they start making the announcements that they're closing soon or are closed <3 he gets whatever souvenirs you want too, whether that be a keychain, stuffed animal, jewelry, anything you want it's yours now <333 he likes the touch tanks too where he can touch the different sea creatures like stingrays, starfish, some kinds of sharks <33 that's his favorite part of the aquarium :)))

52 notes - Posted November 9, 2022

Ayooo robin with a touch starved reader!

robin buckley x reader (no pronouns used but men dni.)

did you mean me?

robin probably already knew you didn't get as much affection as you needed, either when you started to "subtly" started to cuddle up next to her when you were watching a movie or just in general when she saw you with family or friends. she was automatically know the signs of you needing to be touched in some way. whether that be pouting or sulking, or even just going up to her and nuzzling your head into her :( she knows you so well that she can just tell when you need to be hugged or have you hand held, or just be held in general. whenever you're together you'll be hand in hand, nuzzled together, or even just standing/sitting shoulder-to-shoulder. just being near her makes you feel so much better and so much more loved bc we know she has the biggest heart ever being near robin just makes everything feel better and with robin, being touch starved will never happen again.

a/n: i hope this was okay </3 even though im touch starved myself i fear i cannot write it as well and i can feel it, but either way i hope you enjoyed :) - lav

64 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

going to an art museum with robin buckley </3 she'd be so excited to go with you. she would read up on the museum you two had picked out to go and she would talk about all the pieces you would see there. she would be like "oh there's ... by ... painted in ..." and you would just look at her in absolute awe of her and how she was able to know all of that and how she's stores all that information in her brain. she would always have the urge to touch the paintings but "robbie you cant do that you'll get us kicked out!" she needs to feel the texture of a monet painting. i do too tbh.

74 notes - Posted November 23, 2022

steve harrington gives you flowers all the time. whenever he goes to the grocery store by himself he always brings back flowers for you. on special occasions he specifically goes out to find your favorite flower even if he has to go to a real florist to find them. if the store hes at has a florist he gets you a bouquet and gets a card and gives it to you and starts making dinner and you're in awe with your card and flowers completely in love with him.

77 notes - Posted December 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

laying in bed with steve harrington. even when you two aren't sleeping he holds you in his arms like a teddy bear. when you watch tv in bed or even on the couch he's behind you kind of hunched over and his chin is kind of digging into your shoulder but not too much to where it hurts. he loves being the big spoon (it's a must for him) but sometimes when he has a bad day at work or something is bothering him he just wants to lay on you and sleep. he get on top of you and lets his body completely relax while you play with his hair and scratch his back lighting. he also wants kisses when you do this.

135 notes - Posted December 10, 2022

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chuckbass-love · 3 years

Note

Hi! I know you only just posted it but would it be possible to request 33&36 from the prompts with Ransom please?❤️

A/N: Thank you for your patience on this one, i really hope when you read it that it was worth the wait. Also thank you for requesting in the first place, it means a lot that people ask me to write fics for them.

Prompt #33: "Pushing back against my fingers already? How pathetic"

Prompt #36: "You'd better watch your fucking mouth"

Disclaimer: My work is not to be translated or to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Fem!Reader

Warning: Smut! Unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, swearing, daddy kink, implied alcohol consumption and use of the word slut/degradation. 18+ everyone....

Word Count: 2,191

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @twerkforambrose go check them out 💕

Your Filthy Addiction

Five more minutes, you’re going to give that arrogant son of a bitch five more minutes before you toss the food you’d made earlier. You’ve spent all dam day slaving away in that kitchen of yours to make sure Ransom had a decent home cooked meal to come back to after a long day working with Harlan, and what does he do? He doesn’t even show up.

You might love him but if you didn’t get annoyed at least once a day with him then life wouldn’t be right. He’s always doing something to mess you around.

And today is testament to that, it’s testament to the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he just can’t help but let you down. Maybe now you’ve had enough of sitting idly by and letting him walk all over you.

So when he eventually stumbles into the house, his tipsy state as clear as day, your cage is well and truly rattled.

“Where the hell have you been?” you snap, standing in front of him with your hands placed firmly on your hips as you take in his flustered cheeks. He’s very drunk indeed, probably due to the bottomless Jameson supply at the bar across town.

You’ve tried your hardest for years ever since the night you first met Ransom to help him with his obvious drinking problem but to no avail. And now you see why your solutions to his problems never worked, it was because despite his constant complaining about said problems, he loves having just a tiny bit of conflict in his life. Mostly with his good for nothing family who only treat him like dirt. But he gives as good as he gets, always has and always will.

“I was just out with Harvey” the way his shoulders move up as he shrugs only seems to bother you all the more. His lack of care for his actions have always created issues for your relationship but this takes the cake.

To some, your pouty and bratty behaviour may seem pathetic and unnecessary, but to you it’s more than him missing dinner. It’s about the fact that he always seems to let you down, over and over.

“Oh so you prefer his company over mine then? Because i made us a lovely meal so that we could eat together after a week of not being able to and this is the thanks i get? For my so called boyfriend to be swanning off with the master of one night stands” your voice is low, your stare dark and angry, your stance even more so and he can definitely see how badly he’s fucked up.

However, if you know Ransom well enough, then you can certainly see his change in attitude coming a mile off.

“You’d better watch your fucking mouth” he barks, his finger pointed directly in your face as he stalks closer to you. You find yourself stepping back, intimidation controlling you.

“Or what? You gonna make me? Judging by the way you’ve been acting you don’t have a leg to stand on” you say matter of factly as you shake your head in disgust at his nerve. How dare he boss you around when he’s the one who’s been out of line all this time.

“Maybe i will” he pokes his chin out as he stands tall, hands by his sides. He looks awfully confident as he inches closer. His index finger slips underneath your chin as he forces you to look directly into his menacing eyes.

You feel your breath catch in this moment. The knowledge of him doing whatever he wants to do to you just because he can is causing your entire body to shiver with anticipation. Despite how he makes you feel sometimes, you’re a sucker for him and everything he does.

He says jump, you say how high.

“What?” you murmur, wanting him to use his words just like he always makes you do.

“I said, maybe i will make you. Bet you’d love that, slut” you wince at the horrid nickname. It’s moments like these when you always try your hardest to avoid thinking about how his degradation of you makes you feel, your mind is objecting but your body is giving him the green light.

How is that?

How does he always manage to do that?

Must be some kind of mind control as you absentmindedly follow him through to the kitchen, his hand barely holding onto your own.

Before you can even make sense of things, he pushes you over the kitchen counter forcefully.

His hands splay across your ass cheeks as he lifts your dress up, bunching it at your waist before yanking your ruined panties down your bare legs. Next thing you know his fingers are toying at your dripping wet hole.

“Would ya look at this...you can try all you like to act up sweetheart, but you and i both know why this cunt of yours is soaked”

There he goes again, spewing filth to get you to give up the jig. You know you have to remain strong and stable but it’s so hard to do that when he....wait! Is he inserting his fingers? Fuck, they are so thick inside of you and two already? He must be a mind reader to know how this makes you feel, he must know what gets you keening because now here you are pushing back on them like a needy little brat.

“Pushing back on my fingers already? How pathetic” he tuts, his tone mocking as he chuckles a little. Still, his fingers remain as they twist and turn inside of you, scissoring you open before he adds a third.

Fuck, this is delicious torture. The man you’re supposed to be mad at but you can’t bring yourself to be when he makes your body feel so good.

The undeniable and powerful pleasure that he provides is just too good to quit. You could never let him go even if you actively tried to which by the way, you’ve attempted it a hundred times at least.

But every time you try he just lures you back in with his sexual prowess, his high libido and those dashing good looks. His sweet talk isn’t too bad either.

When will you ever learn to strengthen yourself up and walk away? Because he’s never going to change but oh shit, the way he’s pumping his fingers in and out rapidly is enough to cause the coil in your stomach to tighten one last time.

You move to meet his fingers, hips gyrating in circular motions slowly as you reach your hand between your legs.

Of course he pushes you hand away, insisting on using his own. His thumb presses down on your pulsating clit and the breathy groans that are escaping him let you know that he can sense your impending orgasm.

“Come on, baby. Cum for daddy” he urges, rubbing firm circles on you clit as his fingers curl inside of you, pushing against that spongy spot deep within. The one that will have you seeing stars in, 3...2...1.

“FUCK RANSOM” you scream out, hands gripping the kitchen counter so hard that it turns your knuckles white, his fingers continue to drive into you over and over as he rides you through your intense high.

“That’s my girl, just like that. Let go, baby” you can hear the smirk in his voice, the smugness he feels knowing that yet again he’s prevented you from walking away.

He’s convinced you to stay just by pleasuring you with his filthy touch, his sinful thick digits.

You may be weak, but with a man this good, a man capable of making your pretty little pussy cum over and over, why would you want to be anything else?

As soon as you come down from the high, you stand up, straightening your posture as you turn around to face him. The proud look covering his face lets you know that it’s all a game to him.

You pull your dress back down so that it’s covering up your modesty before pulling your panties up.

“What’s wrong, sad eyes?” he pokes, his hands resting either side of the counter, caging you in.

“You know what. You can’t just keep using sex to keep me around, Ransom” you huff in defeat, bothered by your lack of strong will.

“Sure i can, and what’s more, you’re gonna enjoy it too” he raises his eyebrows as he spins you back around, keeping your back arched by yanking your head backwards.

Every inch of your skin turns to gooseflesh as he trails his finger down the curve of your back before reaching your tail bone and pushing your dress up. He undoes the belt around his slacks before popping open the button and slipping them down along with his boxers, freeing his erection from its tight confines.

He slips your arousal covered panties to the side before smothering his eager red tip in your mouth watering pussy juices. Once he catches on your entrance he slams inside of you, but before you can jerk forward he hooks his arm into both of yours as he holds them behind you firmly.

You can never leave him, even if you truly wanted to, you’re stuck in an ongoing loop of orgasms and rough sex.

A frantic whimper slips off your tongue as his pace now renders on animalistic, hard and fast, just the way you both like it.

Of course the real pleasure comes from the slow and hard thrusts, the ones where he gently pokes at your g spot as he lays on top of you. Your legs wrapped around him, his face in the crook of your neck. But now is not the time for gentle and slow, now is the time for rushed and needy.

He’s desperate to achieve that orgasm just as much as he is to provide one for you. To feel your legs shaking as your head lulls back to rest on his chest, eyes rolling to the back of your head, it’s something he can never and will never get enough of. The way your walls are clamping down on him right now should be illegal as he can feel his balls tighten with the impending release.

“Fuck. Keep tightening those walls baby, let yourself go. Just. One. Last. Time” his voice desperate as his breathing turns ragged, matching yours. Your chest starts to rise and fall before your head falls back to rest on his chest just like he loves. He can feel your entire body tremble in his hold as he loosens his grip and pushes you over the counter.

“Gonna fucking cum, deep inside of this pussy. Gonna fill you up with my cum, baby” he growls, his voice deeper than before. He’s so painfully close, as are you.

And as you flutter around him one last time, he spills his load inside of you, causing you to stand up onto your tip toes with your head pressed into the marble counter.

He paints your walls with thick white ropes before twitching as he slows down his thrusts, then he stills his hips.

All that can be heard in this kitchen is heavy panting before the sound of your pussy squelching as he pulls out distracts you. He pulls his slacks back up, making quick work of his zip, button and belt whilst you toss your panties into the hamper by the laundry room and pull your dress back down before heading up to your bedroom.

New panties are a must.

“Now do you get it?” he asks, leaning on the open doorway to your room and causing you to turn and face him once your fresh panties are on.

“Get what?”

“Your mine and you always will be, until i say otherwise” he states, shocking you.

“I’m not your property, Ransom”

“Oh but you are, those soaked panties in that hamper prove it. So get used to it, because you’re never leaving me, especially not now”

You’re well and truly fucked... held captive by his intoxicating smell, intimidating demeanour and his undeniable skills in the bedroom.

Guess you should have known from the day you first met Hugh Ransom Drysdale that you’d never make it out alive if you were to run.

But the real question is, do you even want to leave him? He’s everything you detest but still you stay and continue to crave more of him.

And the answer to that question would be no, no you wouldn't want to leave.

He may be a prick, an arrogant asshole and a cocky son of a bitch but he is an addiction...your filthy addiction, and you wouldn’t have it or him any other way.

-------------------------

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duskandstarlight · 3 years

Text

Embers & Light (Chapter 32)

Notes: Thanks for being so patient waiting for this latest chapter. As usual it turned out to be a hefty MF so I hope you enjoy reading it :) I think this chapter has got the most locations in it so far: Windhaven, Ironcrest, The Steppes and Velaris!

As usual, let me know what you think. And if you enjoy reading it please do hit the reblog button. Thank you, thank you, thank you <3

And during the wait for Chapter 33 (which I will post on Sunday 28th March / 4 April if all goes to plan), do feel free to drop into my anon box--I love hearing from you guys!

Chapter Thirty-Two Cassian

Despite a day and night of rest following the initial bout of healing at the cottage, the next week tumbled by in a whirlwind of activity. If life were a play, Cassian thought, then everything had previously been in intermission and the Gods had suddenly deigned to continue the show.

After speaking with Maya, Feyre and Rhys had winnowed an exhausted Cassian and Nesta back to Windhaven before leaving immediately for Velaris. By the time Cassian waved them goodbye, Nesta was already lying in the foetal position on her length of the couch, her head nestled into the corner. Silent silver flames danced in the hearth and Cassian only had time to groan before he collapsed onto the branch of cushions directly opposite. His wing had landed with an unceremonious thump onto the coffee table, moulding itself around a stack of books, the tip of his fingers grazing Nesta’s thigh. She did not bat him away. Her eyes were already half-closed, her breathing deep and even.

Cassian heard the gentle reassuring thump of her heart in his ears before everything had turned dark.

It was the click of the backdoor that had woken him the next day, heralding Mas and Roksana’s arrival. Cassian had blinked the sleep from his eyes only to be met with the crown of Nesta’s golden head and the scent of jasmine and vanilla entangled like something vital in his lungs.

Only then did he remember the nightmare that had dragged him from sleep in the dead of night. His eyes had snapped open, his body bound and immovable by the heavy weight of death and the illusion of powdered ash in his mouth. His chest had heaved but he’d managed to whip his head to the side—searching for her—only to find Nesta blinking blearily at him, as if his torment had pulled her out of the clutches of sleep. She hadn’t said a word, had only climbed across the cushions until she was lying at a right-angle to him, her body stretched across the intersection of the couch.

As soon as her head had lain next to his, Cassian had found himself able to move, as if the bindings holding him prisoner had suddenly been cut free. Shuddering, he had wound his hands through her hair and pressed his face to her scalp, breathing her in—the scent of her that told him she was safe and sound. That she was not the crumbling ash that coated his tongue.

Nesta’s hand had come up to clasp at his elbow, a silent comfort that told him she was there, before they had tumbled into the comforting dark together.

He hadn’t dreamt after that.

Biting back a sleepy grin, Cassian watched with amusement as Mas halted abruptly at the left-hand archway to the living room.

“Sorry anak,” she apologised with a mortified, unnecessary flush to her brown cheeks. Her hazel eyes flitted from him to Nesta, no doubt clocking how close their heads were and how Cassian’s fingers and nose were still buried in Nesta’s hair. “I didn’t realise you were still sleeping.”

With the swiftness of a mother prone to scooping up little ones before they got themselves into trouble, Mas grabbed for Roksana as the youngling tried to enter the room, gathering the little girl tightly to her chest. Roksana had made to lurch forward and her wings were still spread wide, ready to aid her attempt to launch across the room—towards Sala who was spread out by the fire.

Slowly, the manticore lifted her head from where it was resting on her huge paws and cocked it to one side. The beast’s sandy ears pricked forward in intrigue, her beautiful almond eyes soft and curious as she soaked in the sight of the little Illyrian buzzing with energy.

“Manticore!” Roksana exclaimed with a delighted clap of her hands. She looked up at Mas with unbridled excitement and then, to Cassian’s surprise, to him.

Cassian had never seen the youngling’s face so unfettered—so childlike. In fact, Cassian had never heard her speak. He knew she spoke the odd word to Mas and Nesta, but with him present, the youngling usually remained mute.

An ache rippled over Cassian’s wings as he folded them in and sat upright. Biting back the grimace that wanted to fight its way onto his expression, he shot Roksana his best smile and told her, “The manticore’s name is Sala.”

“Sala,” Roksana repeated quietly, turning her head to peek up at Mas with wide hazel eyes. The housekeeper grinned at the gesture and dropped a loving kiss to the wind-snarled mass of the youngling’s hair.

Nesta, who had been as immovable as a rock, finally stirred, no doubt dragged from the blanket of sleep by the sound of voices and the loss of Cassian’s hand in her hair.

Those steel blue eyes immediately sought his and everything in Cassian tightened as he found them to be clear and trauma-free—as wide and open as the moments after he had kissed her. After he had made her shatter on his tongue.

“Hello,” Nesta croaked. Then, she spied Roksana and Mas, and the sleepy smile that graced her face had all of his desire dissipating. His heart softened as Nesta propped herself up onto a forearm and said, “Hello.”

“You can go to Nesta only,” Mas told Roksana sternly as the youngling scampered across the room, scrambling up onto the sofa so she could wrap her arms around Nesta’s waist.

“She wants to pet the manticore,” Mas told Nesta with a faint, amused smile as Roksana whispered the word twice more to Nesta with a point of a stubby finger towards the fireplace. “Your manticore,” the housekeeper corrected with a toothy grin, even as Mas glanced nervously at the beast who had jumped to her feet, eager to greet Cassian as he rose from the cushions.

Cassian stretched with a groan that evolved into a wide yawn. His limbs were stiff from sleeping for so long. He needed to fly—to exercise and warm up his muscles. He needed to bathe. Gods, how long had they been sleeping? Eighteen hours? More? He usually only slept that length of time after battle.

“Devlon and the other instructors trained you this morning?” Cassian checked with Mas.

The housekeeper nodded. “More balance and footwork,” she told him. “Then applying that to self-defence.”

Cassian’s nod indicated that he was satisfied. “Take the salve from the bathroom cupboard on your way out today,” he instructed. One quick sweeping assessment of the Illyrian had told Cassian that she was sore. “It looks like you could do with it.”

A muzzle was thrust into Cassian’s hand and he looked down to find Sala staring up at him beseechingly. She let out an indignant whine as if to punctuate that she didn’t appreciate being ignored and Cassian snickered, before he bent down to scratch behind the beast’s ears.

When the manticore began to purr loudly, Roksana clapped her hands in delight.

“She’s very friendly,” Nesta told Roksana with a smile. She smoothed back the girl’s wild hair and kissed Roksana’s chubby cheek. Nesta’s hair was mussed, golden strands falling from her coronet which was now loose, no doubt from where his hands had been in it all night.

Cassian wasn’t sure she could look more beautiful. An intense urge overtook him and he almost felt the tug at his ribcage as he imagined striding across the room and slanting his mouth on hers.

Gods, he needed to taste her again more than anything.

Ignoring the sharp, knowing glance Mas threw his way, Cassian created some distance. Doing his best to appear casual, he leant against the right-hand archway that led to the kitchen and took the time to wrangle back some semblance of control.

But then he had watched Nesta introduce Roksana to Sala and everything tightened in a completely different way. His throat bobbed at the look of wonder on the youngling’s face as she stroked Sala’s fur and Cassian knew the sight was something he would cherish forever.

With a fervour that surprised even him, Cassian wished Feyre was with them. Because he knew what he wanted for next Solstice—a painting of this. Of Roksana before Sala, Nesta cradling the youngling’s body from behind, her chin tucked atop the girl’s dark tangle of hair, a secret smile on her face. Just the thought of Feyre brushing the moment onto canvas had sent shivers down his spine—and in that moment Cassian had understood just how irrevocably entangled he was with the female before him. How completely and utterly besotted he was in a way he had never thought possible with anyone.

Later, Roksana had buried her face into Sala’s neck, her small hands clutching at the manticore’s ears and whispered Sala’s name. And when Nesta had laughed, the sound had only confirmed to Cassian what he already knew: that he had never been so content. That he would live with the pain of being so near to Nesta and not being able to have her if it meant he could witness her smile freely. If he could hear her laugh without trying to stifle it as if it were a fire to be put out.

Over the following week, training the females, overseeing the military units and ferrying between Windhaven and the cottage preoccupied Cassian’s every breath. Nesta was just as busy, and she spent any free time she had in the widows camp or running errands with Mas. She had even flown to the travelling market with Mas, which had set itself up for a few days in the Paya valley, selling all means of goods, from spices and fresh produce to jewellery, weapons and swaths and swaths of fabric.

When he did not winnow to the bungalow to deliver them in person, Rhys spoke frequently into Cassian’s mind to deliver updates. Azriel bled in and out of shadows scouting for Kallon and utilising his most-trusted Illyrian contacts to feedback information of the ongoings in Ironcrest’s camp—the former attempts of which had been futile. And all the while they waited with bated breath as news continued to reach them that Marsh had still not left his bed.

It was only a matter of time until Kallon had the right to the title of Prince of Ironcrest. They all knew it. The question would be whether he’d come back to claim his title. And if he did, how the princeling would wield his new found power to rally his cause and drum up the discontent even further.

Given their demands and duties, Cassian and Nesta did not often find themselves alone, something which Cassian found to be both torture and a blessing. Even during their flights to the cottage they flew separately—Cassian on his own wings and Nesta atop Sala—and Nesta had even taken to bringing Roksana with her once the majority of the girls had recovered enough to be taken to Velaris by Mor. The little Illyrian had been delighted to discover Caer whom she adored even more than Sala, most likely due to his endless patience whenever Roksana clambered onto his back. Caer would pad around the grounds outside the cottage, carting Roksana about as she tried to balance herself with outstretched wings. Whenever she toppled off—which was frequently—the manticore would nuzzle at Roksana’s stomach with a teasing growl, which never failed to elicit squeals of giggles that cracked even Frawley’s hard exterior.

Lorrian, who had taken a shine to Roksana well before her visits, had used the youngling’s attendance around the cottage as an opportunity to give her some much-needed flying lessons. Cassian had watched with amusement, leaning against the paddock railings with Nesta and Frawley by his side as Roksana zoomed around the paddock with such speed even Lorrian had stumbled to catch up with her. Cassian had even spied a few of the girls peeking curiously from around the barn doors, no doubt drawn by Frawley and Nesta’s amused outburst of laughter. In the end, even Maya and Samra had come outside to watch.

After the lesson, Frawley had awarded Roksana with a huge mug of hot chocolate, before depositing the youngling swiftly into the tub for a much-needed bath.

In the rare moments that Cassian and Nesta were alone, Cassian found things… difficult, and it was through no fault of Nesta’s. After all, it was Cassian who had given Nesta the choice of deciding what their activities between the sheets had meant. Yet, Cassian could not help the bitter disappointment that wound through him when Nesta did not seek him out again at night—neither for company or for something more heated.

The problem was that Cassian had not truly known the gravity of what he would be dealing with in the aftermath. Knowing what Nesta now tasted like—the scent of which had faded but not disappeared from his tongue—tested a new reserve of Cassian’s strength, and Cassian found himself flitting between an almost terrifying, composed calm to a fervent, primal yearning that had him shaking with the need to touch her… to consume her… to please her in every way possible that went beyond carnal lust.

Oddly, it was the small things that set him off: when she stood too close or when those smoky grey eyes searched for him over anyone else. The worst was when she allowed a small smile to grace her beautiful face or when she taunted him, each teasing jab or jest enough to tell him that she was no longer wading through the muddy waters of trauma. That she was happier—more content.

Sometimes Nesta would touch him without him prompting her to, her fingers snagging on his arm or her body brushing against his as she moved to make tea at the kitchen counter. And those light touches… they burned, as if Cassian was nothing but an animal and Nesta was on heat. His body itched and trembled and begged for her, and Cassian had taken to pleasuring himself at night and first thing in the morning, recreating the sounds of her moans in his head and the grasp of her fingers in his hair. The way she had finally said his name and the weight of her breasts cupped in his palms. The way her body had arched and moulded to his as she had begged for release.

And finally, the way she had reached for him. Those fingers as they had dipped just below the waistband of his pants…

Fantasy and memory became friend and foe. And Cassian pleasured himself in the shower. After training. In the middle of the night. And even then, Cassian was only sated for the briefest of moments until that need crashed down over him again and he had to think of any grotesque image that would cool his blood: Devlon. Marsh. Kallon.

As a consequence, Cassian found himself keeping his distance whenever it became too much. It hurt to do it, as if something was tearing inside of him, and he knew Nesta had clocked it. But she didn’t bring it up and nor did she broach what had happened between the bedsheets. She did not shut him out. Did not poison him with words or derisive looks, even when, for the most part, Cassian thought his actions called for it.

And all the while her scent lingered like the sweetest perfume. It was worse when they were together. Then, it grew stronger. It filled his nostrils, his mouth, the taste of her heady and wonderful and almost sinful in its reminder that Cassian had experienced his one chance with her: one kiss, one touch, one taste.

That was another reason why Cassian was keeping his distance. What was it Nesta had said when he’d told her that the others might scent what they had done? It’s a complete invasion of privacy. So, when the others had arrived, Cassian had created space between them whenever he could. Had watched the way Nesta’s eyes had become more hollow whenever he ensured he was stationed at the opposite side of the room. He hadn’t had the time to communicate to her that his distance was to try and respect her wish for privacy—to prevent the others knowing what they had done—and he had been forced to watch her tumble into the dark depths of her trauma without a hand to haul her out.

Until he’d had to act as a tether, anyway.

Despite his efforts, Cassian suspected that all of his friends had sensed a shift. Mor’s gift was truth, after all, and Azriel and Rhys knew him better than anyone. His brothers had always reprimanded him for wearing his heart on his sleeve to the detriment of no-one but himself, but Cassian couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help a lot of things when it came to Nesta, and he didn’t trust himself not to let that carefully formed leash slip and ruin everything he’d promised her.

He’d already failed once; If you summon your healing magic, I’ll taste you again.

Mother Above. Cassian had even had to resort to training Nesta with Lorrian at the cottage—an unacknowledged chaperone—using the excuse that Nesta needed to not only practice with the bow, but spar with other opponents so she could experience different fighting techniques. And whilst that was true, it was also because training was sacred to Cassian. It taught people to survive and endure and he would not taint the opportunity by tackling Nesta to the ground and slanting his mouth on hers.

Not to mention that she probably didn’t want him to do that, anyway.

“Struggling?” Lorrian taunted at Cassian one evening after dinner.

The two of them had stepped back out into the paddock in order to exhaust some excess energy. They had left Nesta in the cottage living room with Frawley, Maya and Samra. Roksana, who had been running around all day with the manticores, had passed out in front of the hearth, curled up between the two beasts, one of her little wings curved around Caer’s head.

Maya’s eldest daughter Ailie remained upstairs. In fact, she rarely came out of the room she shared with her mother and sister, still too traumatised to face even those inside of the cottage. When she did emerge, she’d sit in front of the armchair by the fire and stare at the flames, as if she were hoping she were one of them and she could escape up the chimney and out into the freedom of the open sky.

But Samra—the youngest of Maya’s girls—was slowly and shyly come out of her shell, although she stuck to her mother like glue, clearly terrified that she might disappear.

“Struggling with what?” Cassian drawled to his friend, as he tapped his siphons to rid himself of his armour. It disappeared scale-by-scale, revealing a short-sleeved tunic layered over a long-sleeved one. Both were fastened at the waist by a lightweight rope of leather, which Cassian tossed to the side before shucking off the short-sleeved top.

Usually Cassian favoured fighting in skin, but Illyria in the depths of winter tested even his fierce warrior blood.

Snorting, Lorrian flared his own siphons and a gleaming emerald arm appeared in a wave of light. “You’ll feel better once you have beaten the shit out of me.”

Cassian raised a scar-slashed eyebrow. “That’s defeatist of you.”

Lorrian rolled his magical arm as he adjusted to the additional weight. “You have intermittent aggression and arousal seeping from your pores. I’m surprised Nesta hasn’t detected it.”

With a dismissive wave of a hand, Cassian replied, “I’m not that bad.”

The way Lorrian grunted told Cassian that he didn’t agree, but to Cassian’s relief, the no further comment came.

Cassian did not need his friend to point out that in the past week the two of them had sparred more frequently than they usually did in months.

“I’m acclimatising,” Cassian said shortly as they began to circle one another, their fists held up to their faces.

For a few turns, there was only the sound of their feet on the wet, spongy earth beneath the soles of their boots. Cassian’s eyes did not stray from Lorrian’s face, allowing his peripheral vision to drink in his friend’s every movement.

It was true that Cassian had more weight behind him than the colonel, but like he was in the skies, Lorrian could be as quick as hell in the training ring. Cassian had learnt long ago that sparring with Lorrian wasn’t about throwing the fiercest punch, but being alert enough to recognise when the bastard was going to duck and strike a fierce upper cut to the gut.

“You’ll stay in Velaris for a few days?” Lorrian asked, after their third round of circling.

Cassian flashed his friend a grin as if to tell him he knew what he was doing. It turned out to be more of a grimace. “You know that I am. Quit trying to distract me.”

“And Nesta’s going with you?”

“You know she is.”

“My point,” Lorrian continued with a slight pant, “is that you better master your shit before you get there. I imagine tensions will be high enough without a snarling general in the mix.”

“Things have been mending. She’s doing well.”

“Incredible,” Lorrian corrected, his eyes flitting to Cassian’s solar plexus in a way that betrayed his desired move. “I’ve never met anyone more resilient. Frawley holds her in high regard and we know that doesn’t happen often.”

In the corner of Cassian’s eye, something moved at the far left-hand side of the paddock, but then Lorrian’s right elbow dropped and Cassian had the opening he had been waiting for. He lunged, his fist flying for Lorrian’s jaw and the colonel barely had time to slam his left arm up to deflect the blow.

But Cassian did not give Lorrian time to recover. He was already moving, his left fist cutting upwards to land a sharp jab to his friend’s ribs. Lorrian tried for a shot to the face but Cassian’s right arm was already deflecting and counter-jabbing before the colonel had time to so much as think about doing anything else but blocking.

Breath sawed out of them and Cassian knew that to any onlooker they were barely more than a blur of grunting flesh and lethal wings.

It was only a lightning fast parry from Lorrian as he jumped back on agile feet, that spared him from being thrown to the forest floor.

It struck up a distance between them again, and for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of wings as they flared outwards and tucked in tight.

And then they began again. Circling one another and panted for air, before one of them created an opening and then there was nothing but punches and blocks and counterattacks, of footwork and grunts and wings thrown out for balance. Cassian felt himself slip into that calm—the mantra that felt like a dance to him—until he landed a precise counter-head blow as Lorrian stepped in for a hook to the ribs.

Lorrian’s knees hit the floor with a thud and Cassian stepped back, breathing hard, giving his friend space to recover. Turning, he used his wrist to wiped the blood away from his lip, only to find Maya watching him with wide-eyes, her arms wrapped tightly around her body.

He lifted a hand in greeting and she offered him a small smile in return, before she turned on the spot and disappeared back inside the house.

“That was better going than last time,” Cassian told Lorrian. He extended his hand to help his friend up from the ground but Lorrian only waved him proudly away. “But you’re still dropping your left arm and leaving your face open. Once that falls apart so does all of the rest.”

Shaking his head in irritation, Lorrian spat blood onto the damp earth. Neither of them had been going at full pelt, but that didn’t mean they hadn’t roughed one another up a little. Cassian’s ribs were already bleating from the impact of Lorrian’s fists and he knew he was already sporting a bruise on his right cheekbone. “I spent all this time mourning the loss of a limb, but when I magic it back for hand-to-hand combat it feels wrong.” Grimacing, the colonel rolled his arm in its socket. “It’s like learning all over again and the worst damn thing is that even when I magic it away at the end of the session, my brain still creates a phantom soreness where my limb should be.”

Chuckling, Cassian clapped his friend on the back. The sparring hadn’t only been a method of burning off energy for Cassian. Now Lorrian had taken up the position of colonel, Lorrian had asked Cassian to train with him more regularly. Whilst Lorrian’s magic could bring his limb back into temporary existence, Lorrian’s muscle memory had depleted over the years. Training with Cassian provided his friend with the opportunity for his brain to reconnect with his lost limb for those times when he needed it the most. “You’re Illyrian, Lor. You can deal with some pulled muscles.”

Another grunt. “It would be easier on my body if you didn’t fight like a damn God.”

Cassian flashed his teeth. “I can’t help that I was destined to lead on the battlefields.”

“And so modest, too,” Lorrian grumbled. Then, he sobered. “Nesta seems a little better.”

Cassian had not spoken to anyone about Nesta’s trauma, but it was there so plainly for anyone to see that he did not jump to deny it. And… pride wound through him at how well she was doing. At how she hadn’t shut him out. “Yes. I hope—“ he blew out a long breath, suddenly unable to stifle the worry that took hold of his brow. “I hope Velaris doesn’t make it worse.”

“You think it will do that?”

“As you guessed, there are a lot of unresolved tensions and conflicts,” Cassian admitted. Not to mention that Nesta herself had once begged him not to send her back to Velaris. Cassian did not know why she’d had a change of heart. He knew she wanted to visit the girls and help them to settle, but she’d asked to come back with him before that. “Nesta wasn’t happy in Velaris,” he finished simply.

“Does she know it’s your birthday on Hogmanay?”

“No,” Cassian said shortly. He shot his friend a sharp look. “Don’t tell her.”

Cocking an eyebrow in confusion, Lorrian asked quizzically, “Why?”

“Because Nesta has enough to worry about. If she thinks there will be a party that she has to attend with my family where she has to pretend that she’s happy, then she will bolt.”

Lorrian frowned. “She won’t bolt from you, Cass.”

But Cassian was not so sure. Lorrian did not know the Nesta in Velaris; the sharp, angry female who had been so terrifyingly sick.

“What you have seen is not Nesta at her most traumatised,” Cassian told Lorrian in a long breath. “When she came here…” He trailed off, his throat bobbing. “Things were very bad. Velaris was toxic for her. The War was hard on her—more so than any of us.”

Kallon had highlighted some of Nesta’s habits during their trip to Ironcrest and Cassian had no desire to voice them aloud again.

This time it was Lorrian’s turn to clap him on the shoulder. “And now Nesta is stronger. She’s built herself from the ashes and become someone the females revere, Cassian. You know what the Illyrians are calling her.”

Cassian did know. Did not want to think too hard about the silver-flamed Diyosa with a fierce manticore by her side. Together they protected and defended the females of the Night Court.

“She might be the only High Fae in the history of Illyria to have the respect of our people,” Lorrian continued. “She’s already winning over the majority of the female population by doing nothing but being herself. She could single-handedly sway the rebellion if we played our cards right, Cass.”

Cassian did not say anything. Was too scared to.

“Even the males have begrudging respect, you have seen how Devlon is around her. At the very least, they recognise that she is powerful. Is she still going with you to instate the new law tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

Rhys had offered Nesta a choice: to assist Mor in settling the last of the girls into the library or to come with the rest of them to each of the Illyrian camps to announce the new clipping law.

“This is what you have been campaigning for all your life,” Lorrian said quietly. “Nesta could pave the way for something new. Something better. You both could.”

“You seem to have forgotten that I am nothing but a lowly bastard,” Cassian stated gruffly, as together they walked out of the paddock and past the barn. “And that I have done very little to stifle this rebellion.”

“You earned the title of Prince of Bastards a long time ago, amongst other names.”

“That is not a title.”

“Is that what you’re worried about?” Lorrian asked with a flicker of surprise. “That you’re not good enough for Nesta?”

Cassian stalked towards the back door, suddenly keen to find Nesta and go home. He wasn’t angry, just… uncomfortable. Lorrian had hit too close to the bone.

“Don’t do yourself a disservice by labelling yourself as something others have tried to falsely pigeon hole you into,” Lorrian told Cassian sternly as they reached the threshold. “You can’t dismantle a faulty system if deep down you believe what the oppressors have drummed into you.”

Then, with a final clap to Cassian’s shoulder, Lorrian disappeared into the cottage.

___

As the pastel hues of dawn bled into day the next morning, Rhys and Feyre winnowed into Windhaven.

Even if it hadn’t been for the star-kissed breeze that wound its way through the mountain pass, Cassian would have known his brother and his mate had arrived. Cassian was halfway through correcting Emerie’s stance when her head whipped to the right of the sparring rings, along with every other female who had turned up for practice that morning.

Only Nesta did not turn, but like Cassian, she had been expecting them. Rhys had spoken into Cassian’s head the evening before whilst he and Nesta were eating dinner, informing him that he and his mate would arrive just after dawn the next morning. They planned to watch the females train, before Rhys would carry out his quarterly observation of Windhaven’s aerial fleet so he could witness the progress Cassian had insisted they were making in reforming the Illyrian troops.

Feyre would join Nesta and Mas on an inspection of the camp—the widows camp in particular—before they would all reconvene for a quick lunch. From there, they would travel to each of the camps main squares to announce the new clipping law, whilst Mor would winnow to the cottage with Frawley and transport the remaining females to the library.

Cassian knew that Nesta was not looking forward to going back to Ironcrest, but she did not change her mind about accompanying them to the camps. For some reason, the fact that she was willing to brave it at her own expense had only served to make Cassian fall for her even more. And although she had retired to bed early that night, she had left her bedroom door ajar just as she had promised during their time in Ironcrest. Cassian had watched her read in bed out of the corner of his eye for an hour or so before the faelight in her room winked out.

It had taken a long time for her breathing to become deep and for the blankets to stop rustling as she tossed and turned in bed. Cassian had fought the urge to crawl in beside her; to fold her into his body and tangle their legs together. To reassure himself with not only with the sound of her heartbeat but the patter of it against the centre of his palm.

Now, Nesta stood beside him with her hands on her hips, using the opportunity to catch her breath. She was dressed in her favourite leathers and her golden brown hair was weaved back tightly from her face. It revealed her flushed cheeks and pink nose, which was thanks to the frigid bite of frost that had kissed the landscape the night before.

“Back to work,” Cassian ordered the females firmly, as their attention lingered on the new arrivals. He heard the same command echo around the adjoining sparring rings from the other trainers. “I want three sets of ten lunges on each leg, followed by twenty one-two punches against your partner’s sparring pads,” Cassian continued.

He was teaching the youngest age group that morning and Nesta remained at his side to assist with the demonstrations. “Remember to make two clean punches,” he told the females. “It should sound like a beating heart—boom, boom—but your fists should move in a fluid movement like an arrow. One fist is the head, the other is the tail.”

He held up his palms so Nesta could demonstrate. Unsurprisingly, her punches were perfectly formed.

“Good,” he praised her. “Partner up with Emerie again whilst I do the rounds.”

Leaving Nesta with the shopkeeper, Cassian weaved his way around the ring, stopping when he needed to gently correcting a stance or a technique. In the corner of his eye, Cassian saw Sala give up her station beneath a copse of young pine trees. The manticore gently nudged off Roksana who had thrown her arms around the beast’s neck, and slunk over to Rhys and Feyre, her silver tail a blaze cutting through the brisk morning air.

The manticore paid no heed as Rhys stilled and his magic crackled—a male ready to protect his mate—but something angry rose in Cassian. He stifled it. Told himself he’d be nervous if a young manticore was roaming around near his mate without its fae counterpart beside it. Yet… the females around the camp had accepted Sala more readily than Cassian had anticipated. To them, Sala and Nesta were a gift from the old Gods—a level or protection against the evils in Prythian—and whilst they kept their distance they did not flinch when Sala walked by.

It helped that the manticore was good with the children. She allowed them to tug at her ears and hang around her neck, only letting out a warning growl if they pulled too hard or she’d had enough.

And the males… even they treated Sala with a level of begrudging respect and terror. Nobody could dispute the old magic that clearly stated that Sala was Nesta’s and Nesta was Sala’s. Cassian couldn’t say he was put out by it. If anything, it offered Nesta an undisputed level of protection that meant she could roam the camp and surrounding skies with more freedom. There had been so many times this week when Nesta had come back to the bungalow in time for dinner, her cheeks glowing and her eyes so wonderfully bright that Cassian couldn’t stop the delighted, relieved smile that graced his expression.

Ignoring the magic that was heavy in the air, Sala drew up at Feyre’s side. Feyre’s eyes were a little wide as the manticore nudged her muzzle into her hand in greeting, before the beast sat back on her haunches. Those golden eyes fixed back on where Nesta stood in the sparring ring, her weight braced on a back foot as Emerie pummelled her fists into her hands. But when Feyre dared to run her hand down the silken fur of Sala’s head, the manticore’s eyes briefly slatted in pleasure.

“She’s on our side, you know,” Cassian told his brother later, as they stood at the lip of the mountain pass where the sparring rings jutted out into the Illyrian sky. Feyre and Nesta had disappeared to the widows camp whilst Rhys observed the Windhaven forces. “Quit acting like Sala is going to tear Feyre limb from limb.”

Rhys’s attention slid from the males engaged in a sword fight to pin Cassian with violent stare that did nothing to quell Cassian’s irritation. “In case you have forgotten, Sala is a manticore. I believe I have some leniency to be wary of a beast who could rip out my mate’s throat with little hesitation.”

“Bullshit,” Cassian retorted, making sure he kept his voice low so as not to draw attention. “A manticore has its own moral compass and its own ability to judge who is and isn’t a threat. And,” he continued, “Nesta would never harm Feyre. She would never allow Sala to attack her.”

“Nesta’s magic is so vast you could add up the magic of six of the High Fae nobility and it would seem like a drop in the Sidra in comparison to Nesta’s. So excuse me if I take precautions given her relationship with my mate is volatile at best and the manticore answers to no-one but her.”

Barely contained fury split across Cassian’s expression and he clamped down on it, lowering his mental shields on instinct so Rhys’s dark consciousness could step inside his mind. Stop spewing shit, Cassian snapped internally, his voice thunderous now he did not have to control the level of his voice. And stop disrespecting Nesta. Her trauma runs deeper than you could ever imagine, yet here she is, defending the Illyrian people and fighting for what is right.

And Rhys… his brother actually blinked at the force behind Cassian’s words. It was not often that Cassian truly lost his temper—not like this.

Releasing a slow breath, Cassian finally loosed the words he’d needed to say aloud for a long time; If you don’t forgive Nesta, you will forever drive a wedge between the two sisters. You forget that Nesta is an empath. Why do you think she turned down every job you offered her? Your offers were never genuine.

Rhys observed Cassian with a level of scrutiny he hadn’t been subject to in a long, long while. Cassian did not squirm, only stared his brother down, unflinching. You can’t welcome Nesta to the Court of Dreams without a level of trust, brother. Let her show you what she’s capable of. Give her space and time. Nesta is strong and fierce and proud but she feels deeper than anyone I’ve ever met. She is well aware of the wrongs she’s committed. Do not think she does not suffer for them, but she is not someone to be controlled. Nesta cannot and should not be tamed by anyone but herself.

This time Rhys’s blink was laboured as if a realisation had just clicked in his brain. Cassian knew that he had not considered that he might prevent Feyre from mending a relationship that she yearned for. And to know he could be the cause of his mate’s unhappiness…

Rhys wasn’t without fault—nobody was—but this bias had gone on too long.

His brother seemed to think so, too. Ok, Rhys conceded. You’re right. I’m sorry. But know that it will always be my instinct to protect Feyre, you know that. Even if there’s nothing to protect her from I will never stop worrying.

Cassian did know. It was why he was so worried about this afternoon. About Nesta joining them whilst they announced the new law to a population of hostile, backward Illyrians.

But Cassian graced Rhys with a taunting smile that was free of his earlier anger. I understand. But you should know that if I see you mistrust Nesta or Sala again, I will drag you into the sparring ring. And we both know who will win that fight, brother.

Rhys’s velvet soft laugh echoed around Cassian’s mind and then that midnight dark retreated. Cassian carefully stacked up his mental shields until they were a ring of indestructible fire.

And all the while, Cassian did not voice what they both already knew: that it was his instinct to protect Nesta, too.

___

“What if instating the clipping law today motivates the rebellion?” Feyre asked uncertainly as they ate a quick lunch together in the bungalow.

Azriel had arrived a few minutes prior and they all sat together on the couch, plates balanced on their laps. Mas had been busy preparing food dosas that morning and even Rhys’s eyes had lit up with delight as he thanked the blushing housekeeper, piling copious amounts of potato onto his pancake.

It struck Cassian as he surveyed the people in the room before him—his loved ones— that the bungalow too small for so much company. And that was without Mor or Amren, the latter of whom had remained behind in Velaris to watch over the wards, alongside overseeing an important meeting with the merchants in stead of Rhys.

Cassian also suspected that Rhys’s second remained behind because his brother didn’t want any of the Illyrian’s to glean just how much power Amren had lost in the war—how she was no longer the nightmare the children of Prythian were told about—the ancient, terrifying other who would drink their blood if they misbehaved.

The new law would be decreed in all of the market squares of the major camps. Alaksander would travel with them and would be publicly clipped—a living example of what would happen to anyone who disobeyed the law that had been instated for centuries. Alaksander would prove that the new penalty for clipping another’s wings was not just a threat: the Night Court would follow through on their promises.

All of the Illyrian nobility had been informed of the impending law by Night Court winnowgram, each letter signed by both High Lord and High Lady. The reaction had not been a pleasant one and even though Cassian knew the amendment to the law was progress, he couldn’t help but wish it was not a bastard who had stooped so low as to mistreat girls in such an abominable way. What might have been different if Alaksander had not been brought up on the cold and brutal fringes of society, where only iron will and sheer luck meant you survived? It didn’t excuse his actions, but Cassian couldn’t shake the leaden sensation in his gut that whispered; what if, what if, what if?

“It could go either way,” Cassian confessed finally to Feyre, his expression grim.

As he spoke, cold fingers brushed against the back of his hand and Cassian looked down in surprise to find Nesta’s forefinger curl around his. He had dared to sit next to her, unable to emerge triumphant from the battle that came with his innate need to oversee what she ate—fetching her chai when she barely touched her tea, spooning more yoghurt atop her dosa to counteract the spices. Feyre, he knew, had watched the entire process with a bemused expression that bordered on amusement. Rhys’s eyes had just glimmered knowingly. Azriel remained stone-faced, but Cassian knew his brother was raising an internal eyebrow at him as those shadows whispered and whispered and whispered.

Cassian adjusted his grip until their fingers intertwined just as a soft, gentle breeze fluttered down that tether. It smelt sweet like summer. Like freshly cut hay bails and the muted perfume of flowers and grass. In his mind, Cassian caught a fleeting image of Nesta running her hands through a golden field of wheat as she walked towards a lone large oak tree, its gnarled trunk a safe haven as she sat against it and opened a book.

Want coiled inside of him and all Cassian could think about was raising Nesta’s hand to his lips and pressing his thanks to her skin. Something primal growled as he fought the urge and Cassian hoped to the Mother that Nesta’s scent had faded from him enough that his mere proximity to her didn't scream to his High Lady, I pleasured your sister until she shattered on my tongue.

For some absurd reason, the thought made Cassian want to bark a laugh. Nesta twisted her head to look up at him and Cassian wondered if she’d felt his amusement with her empath gifts or whether it had tunnelled down the bond.

He didn’t really care. He squeezed her hand.

“It will either continue to ignite any existing hatred of our Court or scare them enough that they will start to see us as a real threat,” Azriel said.

The Shadowsinger had already finished his food and was now standing at his usual spot by the fireplace. Sala sat intently before him, her eyes tracking his shadows as they wreathed about his body. It was almost as if the manticore was hoping he would send out a tendril for her to play with.

Cassian felt like telling the manticore that Azriel was all about hard work and very little play. But it was that work ethic and the Illyrian spies his brother had in place across the clan territories that had ensured that word had got out about what had happened in Ironcrest. Rhys had been adamant that condemning the Ironcrest royalty right off the bat might spark Kallon into action before they were ready. They still needed to find out where Kallon was, whether he’d managed to get the sword to work, and why he had needed the girls blood. Cassian was sure it was dark magic intended to revive the blade, but until they knew for certain… They needed answers and they needed them fast.

So, the leaked information had been selective—devoid of details about the sword and the pit of blood—but the bare bones had been enough to spark intrigue; each retelling whispered of Nesta Archeron, the witch of the Eastern Steppes and their manticores. Of clipped girls kept in cages and rebellion sentries killed for their crimes by a member of the High Fae who did not treat the Illyrians as lesser.

As Azriel had assured Nesta a few days prior when he’d visited for dinner; Stories that thrive on the grapevine have a tendency to wreak more havoc than the complete truth.

The key was to use the power of rumour to slowly unravel the success of the rebellion’s cause amongst the Illyrian people. If Kallon was relying on the females to sway any future referendum for an independent nation, the Night Court would reveal their despicable actions and hope that it would be enough to show the females of Illyria that the rebellion would only result in continued subordination and abuse.

“I am keen to side with the latter,” Rhys said lightly, as he picked a piece of invisible lint off his already immaculate shirt. “This is the first true reaction they have seen from us. It reasserts our authority above petty threats.”

“And it helps,” Azriel continued coldly, “that the rebellion sentries lost their lives. It eliminates further problems down the line.”

“Had the Blood Rite gone ahead, I did initially suggest that we should have allowed some of them to get caught up in the casualties,” Rhys mused.

“We can’t kill every Illyrian that stands against us,” Cassian snapped, his temper rising, even though he knew Rhys had never been serious about messing with the Rite. “That makes us the evil ones in the scenario. It sparks further rebellion later down the line when we squash down every fly that strays onto our path.”

“That may well be true,” Rhys reflected, “but Nesta has certainly done us a favour by ruling some of them out of the equation. Either way, going to all of the camps today is the start of something new—something better.” He turned to Nesta. “You’re ready?”

Nesta had been silent during the meal but to Cassian’s delight, she had cleared all of the food on her plate. Even so, her fingers tightened around his, her knuckles turning white as she rose up tall and lifted that regal chin. “Yes.”

To everyone’s surprise, the Shadowsinger let a faint, reassuring smile grace his mouth, as if he saw through Nesta’s indifferent mask. “It will reassert authority,” he reassured Nesta quietly, his voice as smooth as midnight.

Cassian relaxed slightly at his brother’s words. Nesta liked Azriel and he was the least likely person she would snap at. Sometimes that understanding consumed Cassian with a bitter jealousy that he couldn’t shake, that territorial part of him raging that Nesta would sooner listen to his friend over him, but now… it was needed, and it was useful.

He also knew that he wouldn’t give up their shared fire for anything.

Rhys nodded in agreement. “My Inner Court works on choice,” Rhys told Nesta. “You can help Mor relocate the girls this afternoon if you’d prefer or you can come to each of the camps with us.”

It was an olive branch and one Rhys meant, even if it scuppered his brother’s plan to reassert that Nesta was not someone to be messed with: a benevolent yet wrathful queen that would defend and protect those who needed it the most.

Nesta shook her head, but Cassian felt her inner turmoil in his stomach, the sensation deep and wounding. So he stood, helping her rise to her feet, their hands still entwined. He cocked an arrogant, lazy eyebrow and allowed a grin to spread across his face as he gave in to temptation and kissed the back of her hand, as if she were royalty and he a lowly pauper. “I think you’ll terrify them, witch,” he drawled, and Cassian didn’t have to observe anyone in the room to witness their surprise as Nesta’s lips twitched up into a small, true smile—a smile she saved for Mas and Roksana and him.

“You don’t have to do anything, Nesta,” Feyre said thickly, her hand coming to rest gingerly on Nesta’s arm as she also stood from the couch. She was no doubt thinking of the image Cassian had accidentally let slip the day before when Rhys had asked Nesta to share her memory of the cave. He had been so terrified of Nesta reliving the previous day’s trauma that the ring of fire around his mind had slipped.

It had been too late to fumble after the images that had tumbled through the exposed cracks of his mental shields; Nesta’s haunted blood-streaked face and that dead look behind her eyes as he desperately cupped a palm to her cheek in the bathroom—as he tried to get her to engage with him.

Feyre had looked as if she had been hit in the stomach—had looked physically ill—and even Rhys’ violet eyes had flicked to Cassian’s for a second, his dark eyebrows raising imperceptibly before Nesta had allowed him into her mind.

And that memory…

Even now, the thought of it made Cassian want to shatter things. They had all witnessed Nesta’s sheer panic as that male had pressed his body against hers, pinning her to the ground. Had all seen the boy’s cruel face that had pushed to the forefront of Nesta’s mind when it had happened—a face that Cassian was certain was that human piece of filth. But then Cassian’s pyrite had exploded with power, the ruby light throwing the male off of her just in time for Nesta to scramble to her feet and thrust that sword through his groin.

“You’re involved in this either way,” Rhys told Nesta from his position across the couch, puling Cassian abruptly from his thoughts. Silver flames from their position in the hearth danced in his brother’s star-flecked irises. “What you displayed was an incredible amount of power that they will fear. You need to remind them of that.”

___

When Nesta emerged from her bedroom in full leathers with a bow slung across her back, Cassian thought he might self-combust.

The leathers were a gift from Rhys and rather than being made up of the usual black, the scales were lined with a smoky silver that shimmered and danced. The effect was both sublime and unnerving; the whispering silver a promise of the danger that could be wrought from Nesta’s fingers should anyone cross her.

Clamping down hard on the arousal that smacked him in the face, Cassian quickly looked away, only to find Azriel observing him with a sly grin.

“Ditch the bow,” Rhys ordered.

Nesta bristled. “But—”

“No.” Cassian’s words were a deathly snarl that were forced between gritted teeth. Besides the lunacy of asking Nesta to go into the camps unarmed, Rhys’s tone was not the way to deal with Nesta—it was not the way to speak to his mate.

Feyre whirled on Rhys. “You can’t be serious?”

Rhys’s violet eyes did not move from Nesta’s, nor did his expression turn neutral as he spoke to Feyre mind-to-mind. “You’re powerful enough without it,” Rhys told Nesta simply when he was done explaining to his mate. “That’s the message you want to send. You have your own magic and you have a manticore at your side.”

Cassian clenched his fists as Nesta removed the new bow Lorrian had gifted her a few days prior. The bow she had taken to wearing almost everywhere.

“At least take a dagger,” Cassian ground out, striding towards Nesta and unsheathing one of the knives at his thigh in one fluid movement.

Mother above, the thought of Nesta with no weapon made him want to vomit.

But Nesta shook her head. “I’ve got one,” she told him as she buried her fingers into Sala’s ruff and took Rhys’s outstretched hand.

Her lips twitched as Cassian scoured her body in vein. He was so close to her that he could almost taste her skin, but he ignored the heady rush and crossed his arms firmly over his chest. He stared down at her and demanded, “Where?”

A taunting eyebrow lifted as Nesta replied coolly, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Cassian couldn’t help it. He laughed—the sound loud and booming and true. “At least tell me you’re wearing —“ he started, needing to know she was wearing the pyrite. That if some shit went down and he couldn’t reach her, if her magic failed, then he could protect her like he had that day at the cave.

Metallic blue shimmered in Nesta’s irises—her power writhing beneath the surface. The sight of it was a relief and Cassian wondered if Nesta had known that. If she had summoned it so she could assure him that she had her own arsenal of weapons. “I haven’t taken it off.”

Fine. Good.

“Now, now children.”

Feyre’s teasing voice filtered into Cassian’s ears and then her slim fingers were wrapping around his hand.

But Cassian did not break his gaze from Nesta, watched the fire dancing amusement in her eyes until Feyre folded him into nothing.

___

Ironcrest was just as they had left it; beautiful yet punishing, the strong wind a slap to the face as they winnowed directly into the roughly hewn market square located in the centre of the valley. To the left of them the sparring rings rose like teetering, grass-topped towers and to the right, the cliff face layered with the nobility’s residences staggered their way up into the clouds.

It had been decided that the royalty across the camps would not be granted a visit prior to the clippings. The Night Court would not bow to the Illyrians haughty sense of authority. Instead, the Illyrians would be reminded that it was they who were subject to its Court’s wrath should they not abide by law.

For the brief second it took for them to materialise into the camp, Cassian witnessed the awe alight across Feyre’s face—the painter in her no doubt drinking in the beauty around her—before her expression turning into the stony mask of a High Lady unimpressed with the brutal actions of her people.

Beside them, Nesta, Rhys and Sala appeared in a glitter of midnight. Seconds later, Azriel stepped out of the shadows with Alaksander beside him, the bastard bound in ropes of cobalt light. The Illyrian’s face was full of such stark fear and apprehension that Cassian knew he’d be begging when he learnt that his penalty was far worse than death.

Aside from the howling wind, the activity in the camp seemed to pause at their arrival, as if it was waiting with bated breath. Crowds had already formed in the square around a circular wooden platform that had been built around the middle of a stone fountain.

The fountain itself was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful structures in the camp. Water flowered downwards into multiple stone basins that grew in size until they met the wide reservoir at the base, which was obscured by the wooden scaffolding. At the very pinnacle of the fountain, two stone warriors rose towards the sky—Enalius and Oya—who sported crowns. Rather than being inlaid with jewels, the crowns were set with two angled stars that lay atop the front and were tied together by a circular ribbon that ran through their middle—pareho.

At the base of the fountain, hidden by the platform, Cassian knew lion faces were carved into the stone—beasts ready to fight beside their chosen companions in the battle against evil.

“Here we go,” Cassian muttered under his breath to Feyre as he spotted the all too familiar figure of Lord Rufous—Ironcrest’s senior war-lord—stalking towards them across the wide circular platform.

Cassian turned to Nesta, ready to prompt her should she forget their plan, but she and Sala were already moving—Nesta an unwavering, lethal Queen as she floated towards the steps that would lead them up onto the raised planks.

Sala slunk by her side, her silver tail flicking dangerously, her sharp fangs visible and pointed beneath her muzzle, and Illyrians stepped back warily to create an unobstructed path. Some jumped out of Nesta’s way, their eyes wide and scared as they discovered that the rumour of the manticore was grounded on truth. But a few of the females dropped to their knees and bowed to the earth. A handful of them even dared to reach out and brush Nesta’s arm, as if they wanted living proof that she was not a mirage.

Cassian tried not to bristle—tried not to snarl and launch himself towards her and unsheathe his sword in the same motion. A slow, steadying breath allowed his head to clear as he reminded himself that Nesta could protect herself. That she was strong and fierce and brave and that she did not need him to step in and fight her battles for her. So Cassian watched Azriel stride after her, his hand gripping Alaksander’s arm as he led the restrained male towards the stage. Feyre and Rhys filed in behind them, their magic trailing an invisible yet somehow detectable path behind them like a royal cloak, and Cassian took up the rear, his hand casually resting on his sword as he stalked after them, his expression as hard and unyielding as granite.

When Nesta slowly ascended onto the platform, Lord Rufous faltered. And Nesta—Nesta—smiled at him, the movement cruel and twisting and terrifying. And in that moment, every single rumour that had spread through the camp like wildfire lit as a threat in her eyes.

Those dark beady eyes fell to Nesta’s fingers, where embers sparked with the promise of flame, and Rufous stilled, seemingly frozen to the spot. Even the males beside him halted, although their expressions remained cruel and calculating.

“She killed Ironcrest warriors,” Lord Rufous snarled when he finally found his voice. “That witch is not permitted on our lands.”

Cassian snarled right back, the sound a low, territorial warning in his throat as he bared his teeth at the war-lord. Rhys scraped a nail down Cassian’s mental shield but he ignored it. They both knew he couldn’t help it. “Then the Ironcrest nobility should have ensured that girls were not caged and slaughtered like animals.”

“Where is Lord Marsh,” Rhys cut in smoothly, before Cassian could royally fuck something up. “I called for his presence today.”

“He and his wife are indisposed,” Rufous sneered. “As is his son.”

“And pray tell me, where has Prince Kallon scarpered off to?” Rhys asked with a light deliberation that should have set alarm bells clanging through Rufous’s thick skull.

“He has business with the warriors in the north of our territory,” Rufous replied coldly, but the male’s onyx eyes slid warily to Sala as the beast pinned him with a glare that sung death.

“How interesting,” Rhys mused, as he picked off an imaginary piece of lint from the exquisitely tailored shirt that was lined with silver thread—starlight shimmering in a night sky. “And here I was thinking that Princeling Kallon abandoned his territory and his people after our recent findings.”

Rufous’s lip curled but he did not retaliate. Instead, his gaze slid to Alaksander who looked as if he might have fainted if it were not for the Shadowsinger holding him up. “He’s not one of ours,” Rufous sneered.

“He was on your territory with many other males who belonged to your camp,” Rhys responded calmly, but this time his voice was laced with the dark sort of promise that should have finally made Lord Rufous take stock of who exactly he was speaking with. “And he will receive a punishment that is fit for his crime.”

“Is that why we’ve all been called here then?” Rufous asked. “To witness a killing of a bastard who has no relevance to our camp? We do not control the filth that comes out of Windhaven. We can’t help it if those savages clip their females.”

“If the Illyrians in Windhaven are savages, then I do not know what to call the males in your camp,” Nesta said, her voice brimming with a fervour that burned like ice. “How many females have been mutilated here? How many girls? It is a sin what has been allowed to happen here.”

Lord Rufous was slowly turning purple with rage—no doubt at having been spoken to with such derision by a female—but he remained where he was, his darting glances between Sala and the fire burning at Nesta’s palms enough to keep him stationed in place.

“I do not believe that I need to remind you or the Illyrians here in Ironcrest that clipping has been against the law for centuries,” Rhys began coldly before Lord Rufous could open his mouth to form a retort. His voice was suddenly ringing out across the crowds, his magic amplifying the sound. “As Lady Nesta has pointed out, I have it under good authority that many of the females in this camp have been mutilated, so I would not take it upon yourself to lie to both your High Lord and Lady that this is a one off occurrence when I can see for myself that it is not the case.”

Rhys nodded to the bodies of Illyrians who had gathered around the fountain—at the females who had turned up not only to witness a public visit from their High Lord and Lady, but to see the High Fae who had protected their gender at the potential cost of her own life.

A sharp click of Rhys’s fingers summoned a rickety looking stool that appeared out of thin air. “Sit, observe and do not speak,” Rhys ordered with another snap of his fingers and a deliberate pointed finger.

For a moment, Rufous looked as if he was going to object, but then Sala prowled forward. The manticore’s ears lay flat against the back of her head and her nose wrinkled as her lip curled into a cruel smile, baring her lethally sharp incisors.

The blood that had threatened to turn the war-lord the colour of beetroot drained so quickly that Cassian thought it was a wonder that he didn’t faint. Sala slowly encourages Rufous and his warriors to step backwards until the war-lord’s legs bumped against the stool. There was a moments pause and then, when Rufous failed to sit down, Sala let out an ear-deafening roar. Spittle flew onto the war-lords leathers and the male jumped out of his skin, his backside hitting the seat with an audible thump.

The males at Rufous’s side leapt to unsheathe their weapons, only to find that they were stuck in their scabbards.

Feyre raised her chin. “We won’t be using those. If anyone so much as dares to touch their weapons you will receive the same punishment as this traitor.” She jerked her head towards Alaksander whose knees were all but knocking together.

“Well said, darling,” Rhys purred, bringing his mate’s hand to his mouth so he could press a kiss to the back of her palm.

And then together they turned back towards the crowd.

___

Alaksander had begged when Nesta had cut his wings. Had fallen to his knees and begged as Nesta floated over to him, her irises misting silver.

“You were part of a group of males who raped and mutilated young girls,” Nesta had told him in a voice that had bordered on ethereal. “As punishment, you will never taste the skies again.”

That fated forefinger finger had risen and at the tip, a single silver flame had burned so hot Cassian could sense the molten heat of her magic from where he had stood flanking his High Lord and Lady. And somehow Cassian knew that the hoards of Illyrians that had gathered could sense it to—the immense power of the eldest Archeron sister who had been gifted with the magic to protect and defend.

Alaksander had started to sob, the sound cracking around the market square in such a broken way that Cassian was surprised the male’s ribs did not splinter. He tried to tuck in his wings but Azriel made him turn so his back and wings faced the crowd.

The male had tried in vein to keep his wings tucked in tight, but Rhys had lifted a hand and slowly, painstakingly, Alaksander’s wings had spread as if an invisible force was pulling them open.

“We do not take pleasure in this,” Rhys informed the many faces that had gathered around them. “We have trusted Illyria to uphold the laws the Night Court have decreed in the past, but they have not been followed. Lest this new law be a lesson to you all.”

“Should any of you clip another's wings then you will pay the same price,” Feyre continued. “We have eyes and ears in every corner of this Court. Do not think because you are far removed from Velaris that we will not catch wind of barbaric acts and that we will not dare to interfere.”

And then, with a nod from her sister, Nesta’s flame had seared through the tendons on either side of the male’s elbow joints. Alaksander had screamed, his back arching as he tried to flinch away from the permanent damage that Nesta had inflicted to his treasured wings.

It was that desperate, broken scream that had sleep eluding Cassian as he lay in bed hours later. His thoughts were too loud, too insistent, and the images his mind conjured were too bright and colourful.

He was worried about Nesta. She had healed Alaksander between trips to the other camps without a word. Had slowly knitted his tendons back together only for her to cut them again as they stood before the next clan. She had not balked. Had only kept that icy, murderous expression across her face that told Cassian she was thinking of every wronged female as she took away Alaksander’s flight.

Even so, Cassian knew Nesta had found no true pleasure in it, only a grim determination that what she was doing was right. And it was something that the crowd had understood, too. Nesta was two sides of a coin: she could protect and destroy and she would indulge in the latter if it meant fighting for the former.

By the time they had arrived at the House of Wind, the exhaustion that came with the day’s events had been stark across Nesta’s face. She had barely registered the food Cassian had made her eat in the dining room as soon as they had arrived, or the way that Sala had placed her head in her companion’s lap. Feyre had summoned the wraiths up to the House, clearly worried herself for her sister’s welfare, and Cassian had watched Azriel’s spies lead Nesta away to her old room in search of a bath and a warm bed with a forlorn expression on his face that had resulted in a quirked eyebrow from Azriel.

When Cassian had checked on Nesta an hour before he retired to bed himself, he’d only spotted the slope of a satin-strapped shoulder and the golden tangle of hair spilled across a pillow beneath the piles of blankets atop the mattress. Sala had lain at Nesta’s feet, her chin between her paws, but the manticore had hopped off the bed when she’d spotted him, rubbing her face against his middle with a loud, rumbling purr.

Letting out a long groan of frustration, Cassian flipped over onto his back in defeat—his mind too busy to grant him the peace that came with sleep. It was well after midnight now, the night sky overcast and muted through the view Cassian was afforded in the gap between the curtains. Occasionally, the cloud coverage would break to reveal a dusting of stars as they glinted softly against the smoky blue of the night sky and a beautiful crescent moon.

A dull pounding began to echo around Cassian’s skull; the result of his continuous efforts to strain towards something that simply would not come. So, when he heard the quiet patter of feet coming from the corridor outside his room, Cassian initially thought it was a new addition to the throbbing in his head. Even so, instinct had him reaching for the knife beneath his pillow. But then the doorknob turned and a soft, buttery wedge of light crept across the floor, illuminating the sweeping outline of Nesta’s curves as she stepped into the room. Sala’s golden eyes glinted as she sloped in behind her companion.

Nesta’s scent hit him moments after that—sleepy jasmine and vanilla. He didn’t sit up. Cassian had learnt to treat Nesta like an easily startled animal when she chose to expose herself. Opting for slow, measured movements was key—or better, no movement at all.

“Ok, sweetheart?” he rasped through the darkness, barely daring to believe he wasn’t dreaming as she leant against the carved oak door. It clicked shut behind her and Cassian pushed the weapon back beneath his pillow.

For a moment, Nesta stood there and Cassian tried not to notice how her nipples had peaked from the cold or how painstakingly beautiful she looked with dishevelled hair and her eyes half-shuttered from sleep.

He clamped down hard on the sudden need that washed over him, imagined sinking his teeth into the meat of it until it squirmed uncomfortably—a beast trapped beneath a paw—as Nesta walked silently across the room. Sala slunk through the shadows too, hopping up onto the bed so she could curl up by Cassian’s feet. But Cassian was too preoccupied with how the mattress dipped as Nesta slid beneath the sheets. At how his heart was beating so hard he knew she must be able to hear it.

She was still too far away—too far, too far, too far away on his stupidly enormous bed—and Cassian resisted every urge that screamed at him to grab her.

Instead, he rolled onto his side. Savoured the sight of her silhouette from the intermittent moonlight that filtered between the billowing amethyst curtains.

“It’s too quiet in my room,” Nesta admitted eventually, her voice hoarse from lack of use. She stared up at the ceiling. “The silence woke me up. I miss the wind.”

Now Cassian’s heart raced for an entirely different reason. “I had Rhys loosen the shield around my room here a long time ago,” Cassian told her, knowing Nesta had already clocked the soft howl of the wind as it whipped around the neighbouring mountain peaks. “Whenever we used to stay here as younglings I could never sleep either. It took me a long while to realise that Rhys could alter the magic for me. He did the same in Azriel’s room.”

Not that Cassian often entered Azriel’s bedchamber. His brother was fiercely private like that.

“Is that why you choose to stay up here rather than in the other houses?” Nesta asked. “So you can live in the sky?”

“Partly,” Cassian admitted with a lift of a shoulder. “I never had reason to set my roots down in Velaris permanently and buy my own place. My home has always been Illyria, even if the bungalow is small.”

Nesta frowned, clearly unconvinced by Cassian’s words. Before the threat of the rebellion, Cassian had spent very little time living at the bungalow, more often than not having one of his friends winnow him to where he needed to be when he was required to oversee a military unit or kick a stubborn war-lord into line.

But she only said quietly—as if it were their secret, “I like the bungalow.” She rolled towards him and as the face of the moon was again cast free of a cloud Cassian finally saw Nesta properly.

“I didn’t think I’d like Illyria but I do,” she confessed.

“I’m glad,” Cassian replied softly. “It’s not for everyone.”

Nesta shrugged. “It’s brutal and cold but it’s…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “Freedom, somehow. I’ve never had a home really, but being there feels right.” A blush graced her cheeks and Cassian wanted to stroke it away with his thumbs as she looked away. “I don’t know if that makes sense.”

“It makes sense,” Cassian replied hoarsely.

Silence draped over them like a blanket. But then Nesta asked, her voice smaller than usual, “Can I stay here? In your room, I mean?”

“I’ve already told you I’d rather sleep with you beside me,” he reminded her, something cracking inside of him at the glimpse of vulnerability she allowed him to see. “Stay whenever you want.”

Nesta stifled a laugh. “You won’t be saying that if you have company.”

“I won’t have company.”

Nesta turned her head to smile into the pillow. “Liar.”

“I’m beyond lies right now, Nesta.” The intensity behind his words didn’t have Nesta physically recoiling but Cassian knew her—knew that she would start to panic. So, he shot her a slow grin. “I wouldn’t be stupid enough to turn away a haughty witch now, would I?”

A huff of breath caressed his cheek. “I didn’t realise you had such common sense.”

Cassian’s laughter sparked him into action, his resolve to keep his hands to himself wavering as he reached for her. And when Nesta moved towards him and melted into his embrace, her back moulding into the hard planes of his body, he almost groaned at the comfort of it—at the knowledge that she wanted to be held by him.

Their legs tangled together and Cassian curved a wing around them, carving out a safe space for the two of them.

Emboldened, Cassian dared to bow his head to the nape of her neck and breathe her in. And even though he had spent the last week desperate to touch and taste her, Cassian found he had never been more content in his life to lie with someone and merely hear them breathe.

Minutes passed and when Cassian shifted slightly to get more comfortable Nesta’s fingers curled around his arm. It was a silent order to stay and Cassian realised they were in the exact same place they had been the other morning, when they had awoken.

They both slept, after that.

Tags (let me know if you want to be added/removed): @arinbelle @superspiritfestival @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @mylittlebigplanet @biggestwingspan-az @bellsqueen @ekaterinakostrova @bookstantrash @prophecyerised @rainbowcheetah512 @awesomelena555 @wannawriteyouabook @iammissstark @lovelynesta @melphss @nestalytical @darkshadowqueensrule @laylaameer01 @a-trifling-matter @grouchycritic7794 @thalia-2-rose @champanheandluxxury @swankii-art-teacher @princessconsuela02 @lavendergoomsltd @little-diyosa @princessofmerchants-reads @jeakat @sjm-things @imwritingthesewords @nestable @inejbrekkxr @silvernesta @inyourmindeye @amelie775 @iwastoowildinthe70s @helen-the-weirdo @pizzaneverdisappoints @wishfulimaginings @trash-for-nessian @my-fan-side @sophilightwood @hatemecozuaintme @vidalinav @onceupona-chaos @inardour @thesunremembersyourface @teagoddess99 @ellies-iced-coffee @simonmqb @misswonderflower nessiantrashh

#embersandlightfic #duskandstarlightwrites #acotarfanfic #acosf #acosf spoilers #acosf fanfic #nessian #nessian fic #nessian angst #cassian and nesta #nesta x cassian #acotar fanfic #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acofas

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bookwyrminspiration · 3 years

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I’m sorry, it’s the “sokeefitz with kid with asd” anon, again. I just wanted to participate in Quilwyrm appreciation hours if that’s okay. You’re so kind and thoughtful. You have a way of speaking (or writing? I don’t know what the correct word is here.) that makes people feel understood when they talk to you. You always add your own thoughts to even the smallest of things, which for me at least makes me feel like you genuinely care about it. Also, you’re so creative! You have so many cool ideas and you always seem to put a lot of thought into all of them! That’s why I like coming here, at least. It’s like a quiet corner of the internet that you’ve created. Your Keeper analysis are top-tier, as well. I’m not sure if you’ve read the books a lot of times or if you just have a really good memory, but you always seem to have a great recollection of the events that occur in Keeper! And I don’t say all this in order to put pressure on you to keep being a certain way, and I’m sorry if it does. There’s just so many great things about you and the environment that surrounds you!

Oh hello! Welcome back, nonsie! Nothing to apologize for <33. And thank you for your patience as I got to this--I've reread it so many times since you sent it but I haven't been able to answer until now. And ahh!! appreciation hours--you're very kind; you didn't have to do this but you're entirely welcome to, it's okay

also, can I just say that quilwyrm is absolutely adorable and it love it so much!! a combination of my name and the url that people recognize me under!! I love it!! I've actually considered getting a tattoo of a wyrm in the past, but either way they're just so cool!

"you have a way of speaking that makes people feel understood." thank you so much, that genuinely means a lot. It sometimes feels like my connection to others are artificial or not as "real" as others because I have to do a few things different to understand people and relate to them, but when people come to me I try to connect to them as much as a I can. You may have noticed me sharing stories of my own in response to yours, which is how I try to show that I'm trying to understand you. you give an experience, and I share one similar so you can see that I'm trying to remember how I felt so I can empathize with you and understand your perspective. it's never to try and make it about me, it's me trying to relate to you

and I talk about loving the details frequently, but it's true. I know sometimes I, myself, hide a lot in the small words that get overlooked, so I try to make sure to pay attention to every aspect of what someone else is saying. this is also why sometimes I'll say "if I've skipped over something you wanted to focus more on, send me another ask!" because as much as I try to pay attention, I'm not infallible and I want people to have the comfort and opportunity to come back and tell me that they wanted to focus on something else. I don't mind going back at all, and it's always fun to look at new details! and people are welcome to do this even if I don't leave that little reminder at the end. I don't know where I'm going with this, but I'm trying to say that I do genuinely care about the details, and that's why I try to cover everything I can in a single post.

about the creative thing: thank you!! I try to be! my brain is constantly filled with questions and it's nice to be able to channel them into something where others don't mind how critical (as in inquisitive, not negative) I am of things. Just last night my family was playing a card game about unicorns and I got distracted because I just started wondering how their horns work. Are they made of keratin like their hooves? Are they hollow? Is that where the magic is stored? What generates the magic? Or is it like a protrusion of their skull and it can connect directly to the cranial cavity and there's a gland in the brain that produces the magic? So I think that general principal of always asking questions helps me think through all the ideas people send me and help me just go off in several different directions and possibilities for each post. So a lot of thought does go into my posts! There's been some asks I've spent over an hour answering, typing responses and thinking it over and consulting the wiki and pulling down my books from the shelf to find specific scenes and lines. (this is also why I don't answer asks very quickly, because I'm doing all that. not that it's a bad thing! just an explanation)

I'm incredibly pleased that you like coming here. I often conceptualize my blog as just a little bubble or corner of the internet where I'm just doing whatever I feel like and others can come and join in and vibe with me for as long as they'd like. I just don't know if I'm capable of having surface-level, brief conversations. Not that it's impossible, it's just so much more natural for me to go in-depth and try and give everyone my full attention every time they interact. Which might be a little rarer on the internet, but I do try to curate a space where everyone can enjoy themselves and interact as much as they feel comfortable doing. No requirement to like posts, reblog, send asks, or anything. Just be here if you want to be!

"your keeper analyses are top-tier." ahh thank you!! I think it's so cool that everyone's started to associate me with the analyses and more technical aspects of the story, because those are my favorite parts!! it's so much fun!! I think is a combination of having read the stories several times--I've read each book at least twice, though several of the earlier one's I've lost count of (I know I've read many of them six times or more)--and interacting with others who notice details I don't for so long. Sure, when you read a book six times you get to know it pretty well, but I also see people pointing out things I've forgotten on a regular basis! That does help for when I'm answering asks or analyzing a character, but there are things I miss from time to time. I will admit I do know a lot about the story, probably as much as I know about twilight if not more (twilight is another one of those stories where I could go in depth on anything you put before me, though that interest was more accidental than keeper. to clarify, I love making fun of twilight and it's writing, not trying to justify any of it).

and don't worry! you're not pressuring me!! if anything, it's encouraging because I know you like the things I'm doing. like a little okay!! I'm doing something good!! because a lot of the times I'm just winging it (I can't say this expression without thinking of the wings au anymore), so it's always nice to get some feedback.

I've tried to be very supportive and receptive to everyone I interact with, so I'm very glad that I have a nice environment around me!! and that you think so kindly of me. you're also a wonderful person and I'm always excited when I see another ask from you (no pressure to send them in though). it's like a little there they are!! I recognize that person!! what's up with them recently, how they doing?

I hope you are doing well <33. this morning was a little stressful for me so this was really nice to see !!

#i just want people to know I appreciate them!!#and I try to understand them the best that I can #that's what all my stories are in response to yours #and me commenting on all the little details #i want to pay attention to everything I can and show that I'm trying to understand #because you're so sweet and you're worth the time and energy <33 #to clarify: not saying it's a drain or anything #just saying I like spending time responding to you #and putting effort into the responses #it's not too much and it's not a burden #because I'm entirely willing and eager to do it #quil appreciation hours #can't believe I have a tag for that now #asd kid nonsie #quil's queries #long post

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decembermoonskz · 3 years

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Hello moonbeams~! Writing letters is something I’m good at, because even if I stumble in all other forms of communication sometimes, my writing, my words never fail me. The overall negative energy, annoyance and sometimes hatred towards the pandemic, the social/political topics and the year in general can be very draining and or taxing on me and you all. Of course we’re upset too but seeing so much hate can be draining for people like me, and maybe you. So for a moment, grab a seat and a blanket and listen as I read this letter to you. This is a letter from me, to you, and I offer a blessing from her majesty the moon herself as well.

2020 has been one hell of a year that’s for sure. I experienced a lot of sadness, fatigue and overall lower moods as I tend to take on the energy of the world heavily. There has been so much that’s happened to us all, sadness, fear, anger, heartbreak; but even still we survived it. There were so many that felt we wouldn’t make it through this year or make it to the end as it felt like it would go on forever, but we’re here now, to write these letters, to tell these stories.

Even in this hectic year, I experienced so much, I felt happiness, joy I cried a lot and released so many pent up feelings, I came to terms with things I had locked away, I laughed a lot, I found passions that I thought were long lost. So much has happened to me in this year both ups and downs and I’m grateful for it all. You may be wondering why I would be grateful for downs as well, they helped teach me things, how strong I am; how it’s okay to give in and feel your sadness or pain; to validate my emotions; and a lot more. I hope that with all that’s happened you were able to take in some lessons yourself.

Below this cut, I wanted to thank some people who made my experience on tumblr as wonderful as it has been, more amazing than I had ever expected it to be. I came on here extremely nervous about sharing my stories and these people have been so warm and welcoming and honestly I wouldn’t have enjoyed my time as much without them. I’ll have my ending message at the bottom of this.

@sleepylixie Lily darling, my brain twin!! you’ve made my short tumblr life so much fun! sharing brain waves one moment, soundboarding ideas the next, and having so many things in common between us it’s crazy (wolfie gang). You’ve become one of the best things to happen to me on this site! xoxo thank you for always sharing your wonderful ideas with me and for sharing my love of fantasy!! Oh and I can’t forget all the shared screaming we do over skz and anything else xD I’m so glad we started talking and even in just a short time I feel so close to you already!! Thank you for letting me vent out all my ideas and for letting me be that person for your ideas too, thank you for always giving such good feedback and opinions and thank you for just overall being one of my favorite people to talk to. I hope we can make more wonderful memories in the coming year and beyond it. love you darling have a beautiful 2021~ 💜💜💜 ⟪ song rec: Another Day - Stray Kids ⟫

@rebecca-noona Becca! You were the first person to interact with my blog and when I look back on it, I’m so thankful you did. I love our talks about Korea and skz and writing. Your support has always been incredibly helpful, thank you for always being a cheerleader for me, it means the world. I hope you know I love you and support you and your works and whatever you wish to do so much as well!! I’m so happy we started talking and you make me so happy. Thank you for being my friend and when I finally get to Korea you gotta show me around when you get back!! I hope your process of getting back is smooth and easy, stay as optimistic as you can love!! xoxo ⟪ song rec: motive - Ariana Grande (ft. Doja Cat) ⟫

@skzctnightnight bel! bel! :DD it’s your words of encouragement that helped me create this blog, you’re one of the reasons I’m here!! your works have been some of my favorites and I was so happy when I first reached out to you. Your kindness really touched me and being your anon at the time was so much fun >v< Prowl will forever be one of my favorite series and you inspire me with your works!! I love talking with you no matter if it’s a quick chat, or a long convo, I always love talking to you. Thank you for making my 2020 so nice! I’m glad I know you and let’s talk more soon! <3 ⟪ song rec: Clarity - Kim Petras ⟫

@aliceu Alice!! I’m so thankful we met by chance when replying to one of Lily’s posts LOL I think it was an ask of yours about fantasy, and we shared a mutual love for it xD I want you to know that I always smile and I’m always happy when you send asks or dms so please I hope you never worry about being a bother and keep sending them hehe >v</ Thank you for always taking some of your time to check out my stories and for always leaving such wonderful feedback too!! It makes me happy to read your mini reviews about them!! Thanks for having little chats with me too. I enjoy them always and I hope we can continue to chat more 2021!! Please have a great new year and stay safe and comfy uwu ⟪ song rec: TMT - Stray Kids ⟫

@t-toodumbtocare Bar! xoxo I’m so glad we finally started talking and I’m hoping we can talk more soon >w<b You’re so fun and sweet and your stories are cute!! I wanna read more soon!! >^<9 Thanks for our little chats and thanks for checking out my stories as well I appreciate it. I hope to get to know you better in the coming year and I hope you have the best 2021!! ⟪ song rec: Cruel Summer - Taylor Swift ⟫

@delicatewerewolfsoul Vicky!!! I’m so happy we started talking! I loved talking about animals and pets with you and I loved all the skz soft hours asks you sent (I hope you send more of them psst psst) they made my day!! You’re such a sweetheart and you’re a master of heart memes xD I hope your 2021 is wonderful just like you are!! Stay safe and warm you cute bean xoxo ⟪ song rec: Inception - ATEEZ ⟫

@dreamescapeswriting Hi M!!! Okay full disclosure!! I’ve actually read some of your works before having tumblr LOL Like I really enjoyed them (Lucky and You Love Me are so cute) and honestly I was shy about reaching out but I’m so glad I did because now I wanna continue to talk and send you hugs! >V< I’m so glad we’re both gamers and your asks make me so happy! Thank you for being the sweetie you are and I hope we can talk more in 2021!! Have a great new year cutie!! <3 ⟪ song rec: False God - Taylor Swift ⟫

to my mutuals and other moonbeams who I wanna talk to more and love and support so much!! @mikoto-ica-fics @hanflix @chogiwow @redsandroses @meiiyue @missskzbiased @rosieecheeks I hope we can talk more in the new year and I love you a lot!!! You’re all such beautiful souls!! Know I’m sending you love and hugs and all the support I can muster \>v</ xoxoxoxoxo ⟪ song rec: Breath - GOT7 ⟫

To my beautiful nonnies, I’m super happy you’re here. I miss you all and hope you’re well and to the new ones welcome welcome!! I hope you know all your messages make me so happy! When I started my blog, I didn’t imagine I’d have as many anons as I do now, I didn’t think I’d have many, maybe 2 or 3? You guys make me so happy and I hope to see you more in my inbox when you have the time!!! <33 ⟪ song rec: You Can STAY - Stray Kids ⟫

To all my followers, my darling moonbeams!! Thank you so much for joining on this journey of practice and self-love that I’ve been trying to embark on. The comments, the reblogs, the likes, the asks, all of it, it means the world to me. To re-learn that it is possible for people to enjoy what I do, and not tie it to my own self-worth has been something I’m so thankful for. You all helped me learn that so thank you. I hope you continue to enjoy the stories I put out and feel free to reach out anytime! I’m so happy to have 300+ (almost 400) of you lovely moonbeams here! I hope you all have a wonderful 2021! It doesn’t matter who you are, how old you are, where you come from, what you identify as, what you believe in, or who you love; you are all precious moonbeams here in this haven. ⟪ song rec: Haven - Stray Kids ⟫

I know I say it a million times but since this is a wrapup letter I’ll share it again shortly. My blog was made for the main purpose of learning to appreciate my passion for writing and to not cage myself from posting and sharing my stories. I wanted to learn to write for myself and that posting stories in and of itself was the main victory, and everything else was the bonus, instead of thinking when people like it, only then is it good. I’ve done that before and having learned from it I now feel more prepared to tackle this. Thank you again for all the warm welcomes and the love I’ve received it still hasn’t quite sunk in for me and it feels so unreal. To know you all enjoy my stories and give me so much love, it’s crazy and it’s happening and I am so happy. I’m very thankful I took the leap of faith even though I was scared and decided to create this blog! 2020 challeneged me as well as pushed me and supported me. I experienced hard times yes, but I also experienced some really amazing things. I found comfort in things new and old, I feel like the quarantine made me come to terms with myself more, not run from things I wanted to confront and talk to myself more. I feel like 2020 albeit really draining in all ways, helped shape me and I got stronger because of living through this year. Now before I get any more preach-y than I already have LOL Thank you for being a part of my 2020 everyone!! I hope to have you with me in 2021 and I hope you experience the blessings of the moon like I feel we all do. See you in 2021 y’all! We’ll get through next year and the next and the next, I know it! 💜

Love Izzy

#my 2020 love letter to you #izzy's 2020 wrapped up #izzy doing stuffs #izzy be rambling #I love you all my moonbeams #🌕 may her majesty the moon watch over you always

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foundphoenix · 5 years

Note

do em all gang

this ended up being SUPER LONG. so instead of clogging up the dash,, i just put it under a cut. but here. all 38 of this meme here.

1. what would prevent you from following someone?

i won't follow back if there isn't a rules page for me to read. OR if i can't find the link to the rules page. i'm a stickler for being able to read someone's rules. it makes me super anxious not to be able to do so.

2. are aesthetics important to you? if they are, why?

sometimes. i won't NOT follow someone if i don't like their aesthetic. because when it comes right down to it -- i don't have to see someone’s aesthetics every day. just their writing.

3. what current rp trend do you hate?

i actually can't really think of one? i'm not super in the know about all the trends, though.

4. how do you explain rp to someone in the real world?

i've been roleplaying long enough that most people in my life know that i roleplay. but -- if i have to explain it to someone new... i kinda just tell them like -- i roleplay. and if they don't know what it is or if they immediately go to kinky things then i go more in depth and explain that no it's a writing thing between two people.

5.do you prefer interacting with male muses or female more? why?

i don't really have a preference, if we're being honest. i know that most people do but... i really can't think of a single reason why i prefer one over the other.

6. do you prefer writing male muses or female more? why?

considering i have several more male muses than female you could probably say that i have a preference for male muses. but? i don't know exactly why that is. i think that... it just happens that way. i think that it's because i gravitate towards the abused boys, lmao. i want to cuddle them and love them and make them happy.

7. what's your opinion on call out posts?

i don't like them. i feel like things could be resolved in messages or with a block. but then again -- i've never been in a situation like that. so i don't know what the mindset is behind putting someone on blast.

8. name any three things about the rpc that bother you.

i really hate that we all can't just be nice & respect each other. i hate that people seem to gravitate to male muses more than they do female ones. & i absolutely cannot stand the drama.

9. what is your opinion on exclusivity? do you practice it? why / why not?

i have my preferences... but i don't practice exclusives anymore. i find that it causes more drama than it's worth.

10. have you ever had a bad experience with commissions? as either someone who makes them or as someone who buys them?

no, i haven't.

11. what do you know now about rp that you wish you knew when you first started.

i've been roleplaying since i was twelve. over the years i've learned, as a sheltered homeschooled kid, that people can be harsh. it doesn't hurt anyone's feelings to be mean to you. / writing is hard. i've really had to work at getting to where i am now. & that this is a hobby, not a job. i don't have to do anything that i don't want to do.

12. have you ever been involved in drama? do you regret it?

not on tumblr, no.

13. have you ever thought about leaving rp? what caused it? what changed you mind?

i've thought about leaving roleplay hundreds of times since i was twelve. since i've been on tumblr though, i've never really thought about quitting altogether. i have, however, thought about changing fandoms a few times.

14. do you think rp has a positive or a negative effect on your life or you as a person?

i think it's had both, honestly. it has brought me so many great friends that i hope to keep forever. but on the other hand, there has been a whole helluva lot of drama over the years that have caused me to cry & stress out a lot. i put far too much effort into making people online like me. i worry far too much about what they think.

15. has rp changed you personally?

YES. all of my social interaction for years has come from online & rp. my friends have shaped and changed me from an innocent, anxious child. to an even more anxious adult. i have grown up on roleplay. like i said, i have been roleplaying since i was 12. i've changed a lot since then. i don't know what rp & the online community has directly affected to explain and what was just destined... but. lmao.

16. if you could change one thing about rp on tumblr, what would it be? why?

i'd change how everyone treats each other. i just really wish that everyone could get along. i hate seeing people getting left out.

17. have you ever sent a message to yourself on anon? why?

no, i haven't. i've sent asks to myself in the very beginning to see what they would look like on themes -- but it was never on anon & they got deleted just after.

18. have you ever sent hate to yourself on anon? why?

NO. i have never done this. i've never even thought of it. i don't agree with it, either.

19. do you delete anon hate or post and address it? why?

i have never received anon hate ( so far. ) so i'm unsure how i would address it. probably just delete it and move on.

20. have you ever felt pressured to write something you weren't comfortable with?

YES. it's been a few years. but back where i used to write. everything was pretty anything goes. and there were a few times where i was uncomfortable with the scenes i was doing.

21. have you ever followed someone because you felt like you had to, not because you wanted to?

yes.

22. what would make you block someone?

repeatedly breaking my rules. i'd soft block first. i'd only block if they came back and continued to do it.

23. have you ever stolen something from someone else?

i will admit, i have taken plot ideas before & wrote them with friends on discord. but i've never stolen anything like graphics or icons. that's not cool.

24. have you ever had something stolen from you? if so, how did you handle it?

no, i haven't.

25. are you open to duplicates? why / why not?

in the past i've been very open to duplicates. as of recent, i've been having some major duplicate anxiety. i don't like to see them on my dash. BUT i've made several good friends out of duplicates in other fandoms. so? i guess i'm chill w/ them. sometimes it just makes me anxious, haha.

26. how do you feel about vague posting?

not big on it, tbh.

27. do you follow people even if they don't follow you back?

i don't really check my mututals that often ! when i do, i'll go unfollow the people that i know i've been following for a while that never followed me back. but that's rare. tbh i don't really follow people first much anymore? idk sksks.

28. do you read people's rules before following or interacting?

ALWAYS. i literally will have anxiety if i don't. lmao.

29. what is your opinion on "reblog karma" and do you practice it?

i ALWAYS try to send a meme if i can. but i don't actively practice reblog karma -- i don't really care tbh. i'm grateful for all the memes i get. & with credence,, there are very few memes i'm comfortable w/ sending from him just bc of how he is. he's v picky w/ memes. if i can't send something i DO try to reblog from the source but shrug

30. how have you responded to popular slang used on tumblr? do you use it in everyday life? do you use it at all?

i think it depends by what slang you mean? i've picked up several things from tumblr & twitter too? they're very similar in the way everyone talks. so?? i guess that i've picked it up idk skksks.

31. is there something you don't know the meaning of, but you haven’t asked anyone because you think it's supposed to be general knowledge? was there ever something you had to ask someone to explain?

i google a lot of the things i don't understand. which is a lot. or i ask morgan lmao.

32. have you ever experienced discrimination?

no, i don't think so.

33. how do you feel about personal blogs following your rp blog?

i don't mind them following as long as they don't interact & throw off my activity.

34. have you ever cried while writing a reply?

yes, i have. most certainly.

35. do you read other people's threads, or do you only read your own?

i only really read my own. & morgan's if she sends them to me! sometimes i'll skim replies on the dash but i never really search out whole threads.

36. what is one thing other people seem to hate that doesn't bother you?

i can't?? really think of anything?? idk. lmao.

37. how do you feel about tagging triggers? do you tag them? how do you determine what is triggering contend and what isn't?

i don't tag triggers. except for anything nsfw & negative. ( which, i tag just as nsfw & negativity tw. ) i cannot determine what all is triggering content and it makes me REALLY anxious to try.

38. what advice would you give to someone new to rp?

HAVE FUN. don't try and take it so seriously that you end up making yourself a ball of nerves. this is a hobby. you don't have to take it so seriously that it wrecks your nerves. take advice from others. and just... enjoy yourself. idk. lmao.

OKAY FINALLY LMAO. damn, that was kinda stressful. took FOREVER.

#⁂. ooc ask. / me @ me: damn. no offense; but you need a fuckin' therapist.#aurorheroed #WOW #that took FOREVER #but there #lmao #all 38 #icb that i didn't just delete your ask #rip me & my fingers

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skysabri9 · 2 years

Text

I posted 37 times in 2021

33 posts created (89%)

4 posts reblogged (11%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.1 posts.

I added 87 tags in 2021

#digital art - 16 posts

#nintendo - 11 posts

#pokemon - 11 posts

#game freak - 9 posts

#fan art - 7 posts

#champion lance week 2021 - 7 posts

#champion lance - 7 posts

#lance pokemon - 7 posts

#original art - 6 posts

#pokemon hgss - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 41 characters

#i'm so excited to be part of this zine! ♥

My Top Posts in 2021

Happy Kid Icarus: Uprising Anniversary!!! ★

Kid Icarus: Uprising is 9 years old already! ♡☆ Time sure flies, huh? ;w;

Here goes to one of my favorite videogames! I love the story, the characters, the concept, the gameplay… Everything! ♡ KIU will forever have a special place in my heart ♡ I can play it over and over again and never get tired of it! ♡

Its anniversary was on March 22th and I got to know it that very day, so I began drawing something to celebrate. However, I had to interrupt the process several times and that’s why I’m quite late xD Buuut it’s never late to celebrate! ☆

This time I went for an adorable and funny scenario, featuring some of the characters I love the most ♡ As for the technique and such, I opted for a clean sketch and kept the coloring simple. Hope you like it as much as I do! ♡

51 notes • Posted 2021-03-27 19:32:25 GMT

• Kitty Ears •

I wanted to start the year drawing something adorable, so have a wholesome piece of Future Trunks wearing the same kitty ears hat as his baby version does! ♡ And of course, Scratch has to be there as well! He's probably the inspiration behind that hat anyways! ☆ They are lovely, aren't they? ♡

66 notes • Posted 2021-01-14 23:54:29 GMT

Comfy Pockets

He never had pockets before, and now he's loving them.

We know Vegeta. He's a sturdy, prideful, serious man. And that shows in the way he stands: Usually with his arms crossed or clenching his fists. That's why I found it lovely when he put his hands in the pockets the time he had to wear that outfit (which, for the record, looks very good on him). Although he never lets his guard down, he looks more relaxed. And it's good to see him like that sometimes! ♡ So yeah, have a Vegeta discovering and enjoying the comfort a simple pair of pockets can provide (He may not change his everlasting straight face, but he's loving them!).

73 notes • Posted 2021-02-08 23:01:55 GMT

How bad can I be?

Can you spot where the speech comes from? Yup! It's from Wreck-It-Ralph!★ After getting to know just how much Lea's and Kairi's friendship has grown, now every time I watch the final scene of this movie I tend to think of them. I find their bond so lovely and inspiring. They went from being in opposite "sides" and Kairi not trusting him (because... of course, he even kidnapped her once), to being able to build a very strong friendship where they both trust and care for each other, both learning new things from the other as well. Kairi even gave Lea some relief after letting him know she didn't despise him anymore and that now she trusts him. Also, the fact that they were training partners is so sweet! IMPORTANT: This is NOT a shipping fanart. The drawing portrays only the friendship between both characters.

114 notes • Posted 2021-08-15 01:09:27 GMT

Genuine Laugh

The family was enjoying a meal together when, suddenly, Vegeta was amused by something they said.

So amused, he let out a genuine laugh, different from his typical mockery. And that clearly left them all speechless.

But what could they have said to make the prideful prince laugh genuinely?

128 notes • Posted 2021-05-11 00:06:37 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #It's so wonderful and emotional to see this review ♥#I love all the pieces I made this year! ♥#Here's to many more!!! ♥

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sunofsnek · 2 years

Text

I posted 1,268 times in 2021

7 posts created (1%)

1261 posts reblogged (99%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 180.1 posts.

I added 16 tags in 2021

#critical role - 2 posts

#bnha - 2 posts

#exandria unlimited - 2 posts

#shaun gilmore - 2 posts

#tal'dorei - 2 posts

#mha - 2 posts

#sleepy cat - 1 posts

#boop - 1 posts

#cat video - 1 posts

#cat - 1 posts

Longest Tag: 32 characters

#and every other of those couples

My Top Posts in 2021

Dear MHA anime onlys,

I hope you all had a lot of fun with season 5 & recovered from all the tragic shit we got, especially the Kurogiri reveal.

Please enjoy the break, watch some lighthearted cutesie stuff, before season 6 will arrive, because you will need every tiny piece of positivity you can get.

Sincerely,

an up-to-date manga reader

4 notes • Posted 2021-09-26 17:33:51 GMT

I read post which sad Kaz Brekker can't be asexual because of his clear attraction to Inej and ehm... here are my two cents.

First off, libido and attraction are not the same. You can have one without the other. Second asexuality is a spectrum and demi is a thing in there. He has a strong bond of affection, trust & companionship with Inej, so she could be just the exception.

Can we also just remember that we're still talking about minors? Not one of the crows is of age so all those discussions are a bit weird.

And now to contradict myself I will give my opinion about them. None of the six had a real chance to develop a healthy relationship to sex, attraction etc at the point of the books.

SPOILER AHEAD FOR BOTH CROW BOOKS

Kaz trauma is so bad, he can't even stand the touch of skin on skin, like him engaging in sex... that's a thing for the far future.

Inej was forced into prostitution, if she's not sex repulsed in a way I would be kinda surprised. He just started to claim her bodily autonomy.

Jesper has a tendency for impulsive decisions, like fights & violence, so frequent changing partners could be on the list, too.

Nina learned early on that her body & her skill of seduction can be used as a weapon, as a tool. She is the most sensual & physically affectionate, but in her rehab she also tried to use this against Matthias.

Speaking of the Fjerdan, Matthias grew up in a hypermasculine space of military. His opinions in women were ancient at best and he has probably not that much sexual trauma but has to relearn all the toxic masculinity.

Wylan, the youngest of them just starts over the course of the books to accept himself as a person with value & dignity. And considering how conservative the merchants are, I don't think sexuality is a thing that is ever discussed. Tbh I'm very glad that he has his queerness figured out already.

In conclusion, all your headcanons can be just true & logical, if they don't get against core themes of the books. Kaz can be ace, tbh I also kinda headcanon him as demi aro/ace and that's valid.

10 notes • Posted 2021-11-06 06:30:04 GMT

I never realized how much of a comfort character Gilmore is for me until now where I'm actually going to see him again after this long years?

Like I didn't watch campaign 2 because it was already a lot when I finished campaign 1 and the characters didn't hook me that well, but Vox Machina? I love them so much. I see a lot of myself in the twins and Matt gave me Gilmore, the most charismatic, wonderful man in Tal'Dorei.

After all the heartbreak he endured, etc I said that the only thing I want for him is to be happy and love again and it happened? And I'll be able to have a glimpse of that? I'm beyond happy

40 notes • Posted 2021-07-13 03:01:30 GMT

Being connected to the Air Ashari, mentioning Skull Keep & saying he wants to go to Gilmore's Glorious Goods?

Like as much as Liam loves Caleb, his heart belongs to Vax'ildan & I love that, because I'm missing my bisexual disaster raven man every single day.

92 notes • Posted 2021-06-29 15:42:41 GMT

Did I play Pokémon Sun/Moon? Not yet.

Do I still have a soft spot for Guzma thanks to the fandom? yes.

Made the artwork of @elbdot actually make me crush him? also yes

470 notes • Posted 2021-03-31 20:58:24 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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auroraphilealis · 7 years

Note

Sleepover Saturday: I'm having trouble motivating myself to write but I really want to. Do you have any advice for what you do when you feel like you can't write? Or can't get inspiration?

Being unable to get inspiration is the actual worst feeling in the world! It actually happens to me a lot, unfortunately. Here are a couple of things that I might do to help me write when I really wanna write but can’t find the motivation to do so

1. Find a way to keep my mind from getting distracted. This either means going somewhere quiet, where nothing is really going on, or listening to some kind of writing playlist if the quiet is driving me insane. I used to use 8tracks and I had SO many playlists on there I could have recommended to you, but then they started charging to listen for over 60 minutes, so I found this playlist instead which is just one of my favorite pianists of all time and all of their pieces.

2. Find someone to talk to and bounce ideas of off. I do this all the time; I’m probably the most annoying person in the world. I’ll go to some of my close friends, tell them I want to write, and encourage them to just kind of start throwing ideas at me. It can be anything from, pastel Dan, to some kind of specific trope, but the idea is that you try and find something that sparks your interest. Sometimes just having someone say “i love pastel fics” can be enough to spark a debate, where you say something like “But they’ve all been done before, what can I do that’s different?” and then suddenly your brainstorming and getting excited!! That’s the most important step!

3. If you dont’ really have anyone to bounce ideas off of with, I usually stalk prompt tags, specifically my own! Whenever I’m on tumblr, I keep an eye out for text posts or pieces of art or images that might spark inspiration, and then i reblog them tagged “prompts” for myself for later. I have like 45 pages of prompts on my main blog, and at least half of them are from phanfic.tumblr.com/tagged/prompt. Obviously they’re not all always goign to spark my interest in that particular moment, but when I’m scouting through them, they can often inspire me enough to get excited enough to write!

4. Now, eventually I’ll have an idea, some time of inspiration, but I might not yet have any actual motivation. If you’re at this point, and you really really wanna write such-and-such fic, this is where it can get kind of tricky. Sometimes our minds just want to fight us, but there is one thing I’ve learned; push through it. Sometimes, all you really need to do is just get started, and then the writing just flows. Getting started is the hardest part, I know, trust me, I know. Epsecially as someone with a mental illness, it can be particularly hard. I think one of the most important things to remember, however, is that you just have to keep going.

5. Don’t re-read what you’ve already got down. It doesn’t matter what you wrote previously or how good it is. What’s most important is to keep the flow going, to keep writing and enjoy yourself, to write the parts and the scenes that you’re most excited about so you can feel good about yourself. That sense of accomplishment that comes from pushing through and getting words down on the page is going to be what spurs on the motivation. No writer ever writes one draft of something and thinks that’s it, perfect! I think the problem I find myself running into more often than any other, is stopping myself from proceeding because I spent too much time editing while I write. Save the editing for later! Just get yours ideas down on the page, because let me tell, you feels bloody fantastic, and the motivation to make it perfect comes with time!

So yeah, those are my tips for gaining inspiration, and motivation to write. What you need to remember is that you can edit later. For now, just let the words flow. Who cares if that one sentence is all jumbled and imperfect. You can fix it later. Your fighting a losing battle if keep re reading the beginning parts over and over again, because you’re never going to be happy with them! When you spend too much time on one scene, you stop being able to see it clearly, because you’ve got all these muddled ideas in your head of all the old words you had there and all the old details you included, and suddenly you’ve lost the flow, and then you just get frustrated and don’t want to continue on. Fight past that, ignore the part of your brain that wants you to perfect a scene before you move on, and just keep writing. Trust me - when you go back and re-read it, you’re going to feel so energized and good about yourself that it’ll be fun to do the editing, rather than tiresome and agonizing.

I really hope this helps

Sleepover Saturday, send me asks!

#sleepover Saturday #writing advice #Anonymous

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the-last-airbadger · 7 years

Text

Get To Know Me Questions

Ok so I reblogged this thing a few days ago, and even though nobody asked me questions, I’m still going to answer them, because I really like doing these things and maybe, just maybe, there’s someone out there that’s actually interested in my answers to these questions but was too shy to ask me or didn’t see the post. But now the answers will be in my personal tag forever. Yay ^-^

(please beware this is a very long post these are 125(!) questions! It took me three days to finish!)

I hope you enjoy these questions and my answers to these questions!

1. What is your full name? Skylar Elliott (Dutch last name). (I’m not sure if I wanna post my last name on tumblr…)

2. What is your nickname? I don’t really have a nickname… everyone calls me Sky though, I guess that counts…

3. What is your zodiac sign? Gemini!

4. What is your favorite book series? Percy Jackson and the Olympians. I have never enjoyed reading a book as much as I enjoyed reading these books.

5. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts? I don’t know? I’d like to say I believe in aliens and ghosts but there’s always this voice in the back of my head that tells me that it’s “cool, but they don’t actually excist because it hasn’t been proven”. Although I do believe that aliens must be out there somewhere I mean the universe is so big we cannot be the only life forms. I just think aliens are so much more different than we humans can even imagine.

6. Who is your favorite author? Rick Riordan! Very sassy, author of my favourite book series and cares a lot about representation in books which is very gud.

7. What is your favorite radio station? I mean I don’t really listen to the radio but I kinda like skyradio because it has part of my name in it and I also love npo2 between christmas and new years eve because they play a top2000 of music that you can vote for and it’s really fun. (These are both dutch stations I believe, so if you don’t recognise these stations, that’s why)

8. What is your favorite flavor of anything? Usually strawberry. Strawberry ice cream, strawberry sweets, strawberry sauce, strawberry lemonade, strawberry tea, strawberry smoothies… I love them all.

9. What word would you use often to describe something great or wonderful? “Awesome” or “cool”

10. What is your current favorite song? Heaven - Troye Sivan ft. Betty Who Prove me wrong - Fireflight Escape - Fireflight They share the first place so I listed them all. I literally cannot choose.

Heaven makes me feel much lgbtq+ pride and happiness, as well as sadness and determination to change the world. Plus I can really relate and let my emotions out by listening to this song

Escape is a very good song about overcoming fears and, again, I can really relate to this song. I really like the refrain because when singing it I can really throw my emotions into this and let them out. Again, this song fills me with determination to change the world and the way I handle problems. It makes me feel stronger. And the ending is really reassuring and beautiful.

Prove me wrong, I can also really relate to. It’s about being insecure about yourself but then someone else helps you see that you are actually a really nice person. It reminds me of my friends.

11. What is your favorite word? Ethereal - “Extremely delicate and light in a way that seems not to be of this world”

12. What was the last song you listened to? Heaven - Troye Sivan ft. Betty Who (listening to it right now)

13. What TV show would you recommend for everybody to watch? Brooklyn Nine-Nine because it’s hillarious and very progressive and inclusive and the characters are very lovable.

14. What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down? Probably just any Harry Potter movie. They never get old.

15. Do you play video games? Sometimes. I’m not that big of a fan of videogames but I like games like life is stranger or all the harry potter games and I sometimes play mario with my brother.

16. What is your biggest fear? I’m afraid of my house setting fire and I’m kinda afraid of all bugs but I think my biggest fear is wasting my life and dying unhappy and unfulfilled.

17. What is your best quality, in your opinion? I’m a very positive person and I have and okay face and I make bad jokes (that I secretly think are hillarious). And I always try to learn and improve myself and become the best person I can be.

18. What is your worst quality, in your opinion? I’m insecure about EVERYTHING and I overthink every move I make in life and that makes me feel like I’m failing everything and everyone especially the people I care about.

19. Do you like cats or dogs better? Cats! I think dogs are very cute but irl I kinda shy away from dogs because I’m still lowkey scared of dogs but cats are so cuddly and cute and I want

20. What is your favorite season? Probably fall. Because of Halloween and the leaves FALLing (get it? Fall, falling. haha) from the trees and the colours and the wind and the whole leadup to christmas. I also like that the temperature isn’t to high or to low. Winter’s too cold and summer’s to hot and spring is okay but not that special.

21. Are you in a relationship? Nope. But right now I’m only interested in friendships anyway so I don’t mind. (also being both ace and trans I kinda feel like it’s impossible to find anyone who’d actually want to date me so I kinda just… don’t bother. Transition first, relationships later)

22. What is something you miss from your childhood? I miss that I was so social and talked to everyone without restraint or fear. And I miss having the time to read.

23. Who is your best friend? @asiandutchgirl @the-official-pentacorn They’re both two of the most wonderfull people I’ve ever met don’t you dare make me choose

24. What is your eye color? Brown. There’s some green in them somewhere too if you look really closely but it’s mostly brown.

25. What is your hair color? Also brown but I’ve been thinking about dyeing it for a long time… but usually I can’t because my acting class won’t allow it.

26. Who is someone you love? My siblings, my parents, my best friends, my grandparents, my household, my pets (although pets aren’t really people but I LOVE THEM OKAY)

27. Who is someone you trust? My siblings and my best friends. I could tell them anything.

28. Who is someone you think about often? I hope this doesn’t sound weird but My best friends. They make me happy and they’re a big part of my life even though I don’t see them nearly as often as I should. And I guess, because of that, I just miss them often.

29. Are you currently excited about/for something? I’m in the middle of the process of legally changing my name and gendermarker! I cannot wait to see them on my new ID!!

30. What is your biggest obsession? At the moment definately VOLTRON (season 2 was so guddd)

31. What was your favorite TV show as a child? I used to loooooove Zack and Cody. And after that I started to enjoy ICarly and Victorious a lot. I used to spend whole weekends watching these shows.

32. Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to, if anyone? My best friends and my sister.

33. Are you superstitious? A little bit. I mean I know it’s bullshit but somewhere, in the back of my mind, I still believe bringing “lucky items” to stressfull situations will help me somehow.

34. Do you have any unusual phobias? Uhh… not really? I mean the only thing I can think of is that I cannot sleep in a room with, for example, my mom, because I know she snores and then I am so afraid that it’ll keep me awake that I cannot sleep… -_-

35. Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it? I prefer to be in front of the camera because being behind the camera makes me responsible for the final product while being in front of the camera comes pretty natural to me. My granddad always films every important family event and I grew up with a love for acting and being on stage so… I like that.

36. What is your favorite hobby? Watching a show that is soooo goood you just have to binge it and being on the edge of your seat the whole time and just getting lost in it basically.

37. What was the last book you read? A book for school. “Two women” by Harry Mulish. I didn’t really like it. *spoilers* a lesbian main character was killed in the last two pages just as I thought she’d live happily ever after -_-

38. What was the last movie you watched? Iron man… I think… yeah I watched that the day before my brothers birthday when his friend stayed over.

39. What musical instruments do you play, if any? I play the piano! I’m not that good at it but hey, I enjoy it.

40. What is your favorite animal? I really like Lions. They’re like big cats and also super majestic.

41. What are your top 5 favorite Tumblr blogs that you follow? the-official-pentacorn, asiandutchgirl, hagraeven-side-blog, slytherin-bookworm-guy, relatable-pictures-of-pidge… I think…. there are much more, I’m sure, but these are the first ones I came up with and they all have a special place in my heart.

42. What superpower do you wish you had? I’d love to be able to fly, but, as a trans guy, I think shapeshifting would probably make me the happiest.

43. When and where do you feel most at peace? In the cinema. Just comfortably sitting in a chair with food. My only responsibilities being watching a movie, keeping my mouth shut and eating. Perfect.

44. What makes you smile? Music, My friends, A happy scene in a tv-show or book, a very bad joke, realising how much I love the people that matter to me, having an actual nice social interaction that wasn’t in any way awkward, gender euforia, doing something I love.

45. What sports do you play, if any? …Have you ever seen me trying to exercise?

46. What is your favorite drink? Fresh Lemonade. I had some in Greece and it was literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted… Why don’t we have that in the Netherlands :’(

47. When was the last time you wrote a hand-written letter or note to somebody? Probably sometime when I left the house to get some groceries and didn’t know when my dad would be home so I left him a note on the table

48. Are you afraid of heights? It depends. If I’m walking next to a very deep drop I’m terrified I’ll fall, but in a rollercoaster, on a plane, or even a on bus that’s driving on narrow roads next to a massive ravine, I have no problem with heights. I guess I just don’t trust myself at great heights because of my clumsiness.

49. What is your biggest pet peeve? Whenever I’m trying to concentrate on something I cannot handle it when people ! start ! to ! eat ! crisps ! or ! nuts ! or ! something ! VERY ! LOUDLY !!!! Somehow this mainly happens around my mom and sister and not really anyone else but sometimes it gets so bad I literally have to leave the room. Also snoring… because if someone starts to snore I will not be able to sleep for hours unless I have my phone and some earbuds nearby.

50. Have you ever been to a concert? Yes! I’ve seen Al di Meola (when I was six, with my dad), Lissie, Maria Mena, Delain, Within Temptation (twice), Vanessa Carlton and K3 and I’m gonna see Lindsey Stirling in March!

51. Are you vegan/vegetarian? Nope! But my dad is vegan so half of the time the only meat I eat is the sausage on my sandwiches.

52. When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up? Cassier, Artist, Inventor, Archaologist, Game-Designer, Actor, Writer, Idfk. All in this order.

53. What fictional world would you like to live in? I’d love to live in the world from Avatar: The Last Airbender because it’s basically the same as ours only with DRAGONS and BENDING and all other kinds of cool animals and cool stuff.

54. What is something you worry about? In a week and a half I have test-week and then in a little more than a month I have another test week and then in May I have my final exams and I have SO MUCH LEFT to study and SO MANY PROJECTS left to do and SO MANY BOOKS left to read and I worry I will never pass and die in the process and start hating my life. (which I already kind of do because of school, but hey, only four months left… only four months left…)

55. Are you scared of the dark? Depends. Around 8pm I have no problem with the dark but around 11pm/12pm/1am I am not a fan of walking down two sets of stairs to go to the toilet.

56. Do you like to sing? YES. Omg I absolutely love singing!! I sing everyday and I’m also in a choir (that has been founded for trans people specifically so I don’t have to worry about my high voice) which is super awesome and I love it.

57. Have you ever skipped school? Nope. At least not without my parent’s permission.

58. What is your favorite place on the planet? Probably just any cinema or my home. They’re both places I can just feel at ease and eat.

59. Where would you like to live? Tbh I am perfectly happy in the places I live right now and I don’t think I’ll ever move far away from here, but it would be supercool to live in London!

60. Do you have any pets? Yes! I have two guinea pigs (who are both supercute and cuddly) and a cat (who is supercute, but anything but cuddly)!

61. Are you more of an early bird or a night owl? Night owl. Mornings are for sleep

62. Do you like sunrises or sunsets better? Sunsets because sunsets happen around my favourite time of the day, and I only see sunrises if I have to wake up very early or if I’ve pulled an all-nighter and I hate both of these things. Like I said, mornings are for sleep.

63. Do you know how to drive? No, I don’t. I will probably start lessons next year though!

64. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? I prefer headphones because of the sound quality, but after I’ve worn my headphones for an entire day they always start to hurt because they press my glasses against my head and when I’m going outside earbuds are a lot easier to take with me. Same when I’m trying to listen something calming to fall asleep, earbuds are easier.

65. Have you ever had braces? Yes, I’ve worn braces for about nine months when I was thirteen

66. What is your favorite genre of music? I don’t really have a favourite genre, but I really enjoy soundtracks, rock, some pop and some dubstep songs.

67. Who is your hero? I don’t really have a hero. There are a lot of people I look up to but I think that if I’d have to choose someone right now I’d choose Thomas Sanders because he’s just the nicest human on the planet and I aspire to make people laugh and smile like he does.

68. Do you read comic books? No, not really. They don’t really grab my attention the way books or tv-shows do and I always end up skimming the pages and spoiling myself.

69. What makes you the most angry? Ignorance. Whenever someone refuses to be open minded. Whenever someone claims to know something better than I do and refuses to listen to me. Whenever someone tells me how I should be feeling when they don’t even try to understand what I’m feeling. Whenever someone even tries to shit on my community, friends and interests.

70. Do you prefer to read on an electronic device or with a real book? I prefer reading a real book because books never run out of power, smell good, and just give me that nice reading vibe. And because my e-reader is slow as heck and I have to wait ages for the pages to turn.

71. What is your favorite subject in school? My favourite subject is probably Ancient Greek. I really like learning the ancient greek language and culture and I’m also pretty good at it. Plus my ancient greek class is a very nice group of people and we have an awesome teacher.

72. Do you have any siblings? Yes! I have a sister who’s eightteen and a brother who’s fourteen and I love them very much.

73. What was the last thing you bought? Last monday I bought myself crisps, cola and some liquorice candy because I had a sore throat. (edit: and today I bought some more crisps, some more cola, and candy’s agains coughing… they didn’t help)

74. How tall are you? Last time I checked (about nine months ago at the hospital) I was about 165 cm tall which is about 5’5″

75. Can you cook? … I can make eggs… and pancakes… and really easy pieces of meat that you basically only have to heat up in a pan…. And I can warm up soup from a can… and that’s about it I guess lol

76. What are three things that you love? Time for myself, watching tv-shows, rain.

77. What are three things that you hate? playing sports, homework, stress.

78. Do you have more female friends or more male friends? Definately more female friends. I can’t relate as much with cis men and I don’t have that many trans people that are actively involved in my day to day life. Plus girls are amazing.

79. What is your sexual orientation? I identify as asexual. I don’t really understand what sexual attraction is exactly… and like… I do not understand how you can associate people you actually know in your life with sex without being creeped out? And the idea that people that are in a relationship are having sex with eachother just… really boggles my mind. Especially because to everyone it seems so normal? and then I’m just like “why would you do that…”

80. Where do you currently live? I have two houses (divorced parents) and I live in both a small city and a big village. They’re both about half an hour away from Rotterdam in the Netherlands but I’m not sure if I wanna post the exact places I live on tumblr…

81. Who was the last person you texted? My brother. He asked me which one of us would buy banana’s and chocolate. I said he should because I was still at school.

82. When was the last time you cried? Last sunday. I was super stressed out because of school. I had to finish a project and I had two hours left but my brain was dead so I kinda crashed.

83. Who is your favorite YouTuber? Phil Lester (AmazingPhil), Dan Howell (danisnotonfire), Sean McLaughlin (Jacksepticeye) and Chase Ross (uppercasechase1). Dan and Phil always make me laugh and make me feel appreciated and I love them and their video’s and their dynamic a lot, Jack feels like one of my closest friends and he’s such a nice and funny guy, and Chase has helped me so much with transition-related problems. They’re all amazing and I cannot imagine my life without them.

84. Do you like to take selfies? Yes, I do! A lot! Whenever I’m on a trip or I look good or I just feel like trying on some new clothes and stuff, I always make selfies.

85. What is your favorite app? Probably the tumblr app. I spend half my life on there. Nothing is better than using my tumblr app to avoid social contact.

86. What is your relationship with your parent(s) like? Really good. My mom is a very warm person that I can tell almost anything to. She’s very understanding and her hugs are very soft. She values my opinions a lot and is always there to listen to what I say. With my dad I find it harder to tell him everything but that’s probably because I get the feeling that he expects a bit more from me? Idk if that’s true though, might just be my imagination. But he’s a very chill and self-assured person and I like that it’s always so calm at his house, whereas at my moms house things can be very chaotic and sometimes stressfull. My dad is very open and very accepting and he keeps surprizing me with how much he’s okay with. Overall my parents are really really nice. They support my transition and my life choices and they just want me to be happy. I couldn’t have wished for better parents.

87. What is your favorite foreign accent? I really love scottish it’s amazing. A gift to humanity.

88. What is a place that you’ve never been to, but you want to visit? Japan!! I really wanna go there it seems so awesome!!

89. What is your favorite number? 13

90. Can you juggle? I can’t even aim, throw or catch a ball of course I can’t juggle

91. Are you religious? Nope

92. Do you find outer space of the deep ocean to be more interesting? Outer space. There are so many things left to discover and it’s so big!! It feels like everything is possible in space. Also it’s very pretty.

93. Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil? Not really. Whenever something scary happens, I’m out. I’ll run away as fast as I can. I do really like rollercoaster and stuff though and I’d love to try and sky-dive or bungee-jump… but I guess that’s because I’m not the one who’s in control in these situations.

94. Are you allergic to anything? Not that I know…

95. Can you curl your tongue? Yup.

96. Can you wiggle your ears? A little bit

97. How often do you admit that you were wrong about something? I try to always admit it when I’m wrong about something. It’s a very decent thing to do and it prevents conflicts from happening or escalating. Plus you won’t really gain anything by refusing to admit you’re wrong about something.

98. Do you prefer the forest or the beach? The forest. I hate the beach. It’s either way too hot or way too cold and there’s sand everywhere I hate it.

99. What is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you? I don’t know. I can’t really remember all the advices I’ve ever been given, and I don't think that one piece of advice alone can have that much impact. It’s the combinations of all the advice you’ve ever had that really makes a difference. If you can combine different people’s experiences and advices you’ll figure out what to do by yourself. But I guess if I had to choose one piece of advise that I value, I’d say: “It’s good to think about others and help other people, as long as it isn’t at the expense of yourself. In the end, you are the most important to yourself. You are the one that has to live with yourself for the rest of your life. You shouldn’t always put others before yourself because you are important too and you deserve love and kindness and happiness too. You deserve to be happy” (I think most of this advice I actually got from markiplier, from his most recent believe in yourself video. It’s a very motivational video, go and watch it!)

100. Are you a good liar? Yes I am. I used to lie about everything to fit in with the cool kids and keep them as my friends. It was like second nature to me. I guess I did learn something from acting class… I still lie a lot to my acting friends by the way, just because they party every week and I hate parties but if I tell the truth they think I don’t like them, which isn’t true at all. I like them! But I really hate parties… and they can be a bit draining to be around.

101. What is your Hogwarts House? You might belong in Hufflepuff, Where they are just and loyal, Those patient Hufflepuffs are true And unafraid of toil

102. Do you talk to yourself? Yep. Pretty often. Whenever I’m home alone I just sorta narrate my life. Sometimes I make it a musical!

103. Are you an introvert or an extrovert? Introvert. Interacting with people is fun but after a while I really need time alone, it really drains my energy, especially when I am not feeling well anyway. The only interactions with people that actually give me energy are interactions with my closest friends and family.

104. Do you keep a journal/diary? I keep a transition-diary to write down the important moments related to transition, so I can read it back when I’m older and I won’t forget anything.

105. Do you believe in second chances? Yes. If someone is really willing to better themselves and are working hard to improve I think they deserve a second chance to give them the opportunity to learn from their mistakes.

106. If you found a wallet full of money on the ground, what would you do? Probably leave it. I woudn’t want to go through either the trouble of handing it in or the guilt of not doing that, so I’d probably place it somewhere more noticable and let someone else decide what happens with it.

107. Do you believe that people are capable of change? Yes. People go through all kinds of things in live and they keep learning and bettering themselves. If a person really wants to change then I believe they can, no matter how long it takes. They’ll get there.

108. Are you ticklish? Yes. Very. If you tickle me I start screaming and kicking and I sometimes fall on the floor. It’s my weakness…

109. Have you ever been on a plane? Eight times. To Rome and back, to portugal and back, twice to greece and back.

110. Do you have any piercings? Do earrings count? Because I wear earrings sometimes.

111. What fictional character do you wish was real? Aang. I feel like we would be pretty good friends and our world really needs the avatar tbh.

112. Do you have any tattoos? Nope. But I do want one. I just cannot decide what I would want on my body forever… probably either something avatar related (like the air-nation logo or something, because that’s really cool) or something transition-related because it’s such an important part of my life and it’s something about me that will never change.

113. What is the best decision that you’ve made in your life so far? Coming out and contacting the hospital to start my medical transition. Because without that, where would I be? I’d be the unhappiest little shit ever.

114. Do you believe in karma? Nope

115. Do you wear glasses or contacts? I’ve worn glasses ever since I was eight years old. I will never wear contacts. ever. They freak me out! Why would you put something in your eye.

116. Do you want children? I don’t know. I always wanted kids, but ever since I found out I was trans and realised that I couldn’t have them naturally, I’m not sure anymore, because I don’t know if I want to adopt. I think it’s really gonna depend on if I have a partner or not and what the possibilities are… we’ll see. Babies are very cute though… and I think I’d love being a dad, even though I’m very afraid of becoming a terrible father. If I have kids I want them to be happy and decent humans. My sister will definately have kids though because she really really wants kids so I’ll definately be an uncle and maybe that’ll be enough for me. Who knows? And mayble I’ll get a partner with young kids and help them raise their kids… I think I’d prefer helping someone raising kids and giving the kids good life advice and do fun things together without being the one who has the most responsibilities.

117. Who is the smartest person you know? My sister has a friend who scored really well in school (an average score of around 90% I believe), who now studies both medical science and classics, plays the piano flawlessly, and is also a very nice person. She also won a price in an ancient greek competition, she was the best of the country!!

118. What is your most embarrassing memory? I was ten years old and I had a friend who was a pretty big bully and I really wanted to stay her friend so I kinda just went along with it. One day I thought I was being cool and asked said friend to place a folded airplane on the bullied guy’s table that said something like “idiot” on it. The guy then proceded to tell the teacher who told the entire class and demanded to know who had done it. I was terrified! Then my supposed friend ratted me out. I wanted to dissappear!! My teacher at the time was kind of my hero and I did not want to dissappoint her at all. I then proceded to lie that I just wanted to give the guy a folded airplane because I knew he liked them and didn’t know that it had the word “idiot” on it. I said that the word idiot wasn’t directed toward the guy and that I didn’t turn myself in because I was to scared the teacher would be angry at me. She believed me and everything went well but damn. This is the memory that still haunts me at 3am when I’m trying to sleep.

119. Have you ever pulled an all-nighter? Yes. A lot. Always at sleep-over parties. I used to really love pulling an all-nighter but now… not so much. When it’s 4am, I just want to sleeepppp.

120. What color are most of you clothes? Most of my clothes are blue! I have a lot of dark blue sweaters and hoodies.

121. Do you like adventures? Meh. I used to, but now I just want to go home and watch a movie.

122. Have you ever been on TV? Nope, but I’m probably gonna be! Right now there is a documentary in the making about my choir, which will be on TV and I’ll be in it!

123. How old are you? I’m 17 years old and I’ll turn 18 on June 4th 2017.

124. What is your favorite quote? I really like the entire songtext of escape by fireflight, but I can’t really put an entire songtext here, can I? The part of the song I love most are: “You are not hopeless. You are not worthless. You are loved. Don’t give up. This is your time” and “We don’t want to save ourselves” But if I had to pick an all-time favourite quote I’d probably pick the following quote from Dan Howell: “And at the end of the day, if something makes you and other people happy, that’s what’s important”

125. Do you prefer sweet or savory foods? Savory. I really like sweet foods from time to time but I am always craving savory foodsss ohm yg od

So there it is, I hope you enjoyed these questions and getting to know me a bit more! I really enjoyed answering these questions and they also kinda helped me study, because I only allowed myself to answer ten questions after finishing a certain amout of homework, so that’s good…

I hope you liked this and have a nice day!

#personal #long post #troye sivan #fireflight #music i like #gemini #hufflepuff #dan howell #phil lester #jacksepticeye #chase ross #thomas sanders #markipleir

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sunflovverharry · 3 years

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Friends with Benefits - Chapter 2

a/n: I’m back with a new chapter of my fwb series and it hasn’t been proofread, but I wanted to get it out for you as it’s been two weeks since I posted the first one. As always, I hope you like this chapter and please reblog or message me if you do, enjoy! <33 To read the first chapter, click here

Pairing: police officer!h + Alex

Word count: 7k

Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, nsfw content

Three weeks later, my group of friends and I were yet again sitting in a booth at the club we went to last time. They’ve been out once after last time, but I had to sit that one out because of work. I had basically taken over the vice-headteacher role as she had quit out of nowhere and we have noone to replace her before the end of the school year. It’s a fucking pain in my ass but the headteacher didn’t really give me a choice as she flinged all the papers and what not I had to go through while also doing my job as a counsellor.

Tonight I was ready to forget all about work and students as I chugged the rest of my pint, ready to feel the effects of the alcohol running through my blood. I downed a shot of whatever Jake had ordered for us before dragging Charlie with me to the dance floor already stuffed full of drunk young adults much like myself. I’m not much of a dancer no matter how much alcohol I have consumed, but today I felt like I needed to shake off some steam and the only way I knew how right now was to get dancing.

Walking to the dance floor, I started feeling the groove as my body began to move to the hip hop coming out through the speakers all over the club. I pulled Charlie behind me before coming to a stop near the middle of everyone, shaking my hips to the beat. Never having liked hip hop, I was glad the alcohol I’d consumed made me forget about actually listening to the music, only interested in going back to my teen years and dancing like I had no care in the world. Grinding my ass on Charlie, throwing my hands up in the air I was feeling myself and everything about this week was quickly showed to the back of my head and forgotten. Charlies hands were on my hips, no doubt making everyone around who were still clear in their heads think we were either a couple or hooking up tonight. This wasn’t the first time we’ve danced like this, having known him since my early teens and instantly became good friends so I have no plans of ever hooking up with him.

Not much later, most of our friends had joined us on the floor. We moved between each other, dancing with everyone before they decided to make a circle. That’s when I went back to our booth. My days where standing in a circle on the dance floor was cool, were over a long time ago.

Sinking back into one of the leather booth sofas, I found my phone in my purse slung over my shoulder. There were a couple of notifications from friends having sent snapchats of their nights and a message from my mum from earlier in the night I didn’t even bother to read. Checking the time before putting the phone back in my purse, I made my way to the toilets. There wasn’t much of a line thankfully so I walked straight into a cubicle with an open door, locking it behind me. I could feel the effects of the intoxicating liquors I’d consumed since starting this evening. My head was spinning, but not enough for me to feel sick, yet anyways. I left the cubicle to wash my hands and fix the layer of makeup I’d put on. My eyes were blurring the matching picture of myself in the mirror, making me squint to see if I was doing my lipstick right.

Smacking my lips together and putting the lid on the lipstick, I could hear the door to the bathroom open, the sound of the music louder in the few seconds before it flung shut again. I wasn’t looking at who came in as I was putting the lipstick back into my purse. Hearing the clearing of a throat not too far from me made me look up at whoever made a sound of wanting my attention, presumably one of my friends wondering why I left them out there.

My eyes flung up to meet the same green eyes I’d met at the bar three weeks ago. The same eyes I’d stared into as his lips moved when he spoke. The same eyes I watched as he came inside me. The same eyes I apologetically left early the next morning. The same eyes I’d dreamt about ever since that night. Who wouldn’t dream about them? They are magnificent.

“Fancy seeing you here.” I’m sure my jaw was still hanging in shock of seeing him again. I hadn’t expected having another interaction with him, not that I’m disappointed in the slightest.

I let out a chuckle, his smirk still glued onto his lips, just like when he was standing opposite me leaning onto his kitchen counters three weeks ago. The sight of him and the memories of last, or first should I say, time we met already made my clit throb. I’d get something more to imagine when I’m touching myself - only being able to get off to the thought of Harry since that night. Pure lust and want is flowing through my body as I continue looking up at him wondering why he’s at this club again, remembering how he had told me he wasn’t a regular here.

“You look gorgeous, pet.” Harry’s eyes glided down my body to take me in from top to toe. I didn’t feel intimidated under his eyes at all, but that might be because of the alcohol or the fact that there was a smug smile on his lips for the duration of his glance.

“I must say I’m disappointed that you’re not in your police uniform, but I guess you look good, too, officer.” I could see the gears turning in his head as he heard the nickname. He’s got to be called officer at least a hundred times a day, but not in a sultry, seductive tone like I said it in.

There was a moment of silence between us as we held each others eyes. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes only visible in a certain light though. Still handsome as hell. I’m sure he’d look fine no matter what.

Finally Harry pushed a single curl that fell down back and exhaled a long breath as if he’d been holding it in for the time we were stood there.

“And you’re still bold as ever, huh?” He closed the distance between us in a couple of strides, his long legs moving his body swiftly. A pair of black jeans were tight against his muscular thighs while his upper body was adorned by a colourful t-shirt with some saying I couldn’t focus on. The man looked just as handsome as the last time I’d seen him. I’d even go as far as to call him cute when he gets that dimpled smile decorating his cheeks. Saying it turned me on was an understatement, my knickers getting wetter as the moment passed.

Having the liquid courage, I made a quick decision to answer his question by moving my hand from my side to run my index finger around his lips with a snicker, “You bet.” Only having a brief time spent with him sober that Saturday morning, he knows me as bold and confident - which isn’t necessarily how I am in the confinement of my own home and company.

Harry’s eyes were frantic as he looked from my finger as I traced his lips to my own eyes looking at his lips. It took him a few seconds to collect himself. One of his perfectly calloused hands gripped my wrist, his eyes on mine as he lowered it and took a hold of my neck with his free hand. I looked up at him with curious eyes wondering what he was planning on doing to me, silently hoping for a repeat of what happened three weeks ago.

It appeared he was going back and forth with himself about if he should move away or close the small gap between us. I waited for him to make up his mind, not wanting him to pull away but not doing anything to keep him closer. Maybe he was searching for consent before doing anything more than holding me in place, not wanting anything to jeopardize his career. I still hadn’t moved away or made any sign of being uncomfortable in his hold.

Suddenly he tightened his hold on my neck and pulled me in and smacked our lips together in a long and shamelessly urgent kiss. His lips felt just as nice and full against mine as last time. The softness to them was delicious, the stubble around his lips going down his jaw making the juxtaposition incredible. Only feeling his lips made my head swim in thoughts about how I want to feel him do the same thing to my pussy lips - so what will tasting the inside of his mouth make me think?

Harry bit my lip, pulling it back with him as he moved back a bit before it smacked back against my teeth. He didn’t waste time and went tongue first as he chased my own letting out a slight growl as we fought for dominance. The sound made me smile against his lips loving that I made him feel good by only kissing.

He tasted like tequila and lime, the sour taste being a bit overwhelming but I wasn’t bothered as he sucked my upper lip in between his lips before diving in again. It was wet and sloppy, but exactly what we needed in the moment. His lips were imperfectly perfect against mine and his tongue licking into my mouth felt sensual like I’ve never experienced before.

Letting my wrist out of his strong hold, I could move it freely deciding the best place was on his lower back, inching closer to his butt as we made out in the South-east Clapham bar bathroom. We didn’t have a care in the world the only thing on our minds was the feel of the others lips and hands grabbing in ecstacy wanting to be closer. Knowing we couldn’t get any further in here with the unlimited spacing and privacy - the both of us obviously not wanting to be caught fucking - we reluctantly let up and created a little more space between us. Well, not so much between our bodies which were still as close as they could be, but our lips weren’t touching and Harry’s hooded eyes were scanning mine trying to see if we had the same intentions.

I can’t imagine it was hard to tell that I wanted tonight to end up like it did all those weeks ago. If he couldn’t tell by just looking at me, I moved my hand to his hip squeezing it as I nodded my head in the direction of the exit.

There weren’t any words exchanges between us as he took hold of my hand and walked out of the bathroom and into the unusually large crowd for a regular friday night in Clapham. He pulled me behind him, the tight hold on my hand making sure he wouldn’t lose me as we moved through the bar to get to his mates where he had left his jacket when he came to the toilets.

Only two seats were taken at the booth they had occupied for the night and Harry quickly grabbed his jacket after patting the guy closest to him on the shoulder telling them he was out. I don’t know it they were the same people he was out with last time or if they had noticed me waiting for him by the exit, but this time I was holding his hand and they made it pretty obvious they noticed me winking at Harry and telling him to have a good night.

The walk back to his house was spent joking and laughing together, not talking about last time or our plans for the night. It’s nice being able to have a laugh with him and there be no hidden message behind it or dirty thoughts - though they were there and would come to the forefront of my mind when we’re inside his house and sort of confined compared to the open outside. Only after two walks home with him I feel more comfortable by the minute and can’t help but feel giddy at the fact that we met once again and we’re on the way home for a fun night ahead. Maybe we’ll experiment a little more or go on for longer.

The fresh air had sobered me up quite a bit, hoping Harry had as well, but I was definitely still strongly inebriated compared to my usual sober state. As Harry opened the front door and let me in the first thought I had was that it was messy. A lot messier compared to last time when there was barely anything to pick on. It surprised me and made me wonder if this was the usual state of the house, or if he’d just had a rough day or week like I had.

It didn’t seem like he had any plan on saying anything about the mess as he shut the door and locked it behind him, walking towards me in quick strides. This wasn’t anything like last time.

“Are we going to stand here staring at each other all night?” I hadn’t even noticed his eyes on me, too focused on studying him and talking myself out of any possible feelings that might come. If I manage to keep it flirty and fun, I might be able to keep any feelings for him in check. The only thing I’m looking to feel tonight is his cock growing in my mouth and throbbing inside me.

This was purposeful, much like earlier in the night when we saw each other in the bar bathroom. We knew what we wanted from each other and there wouldn’t be any teasing - from my part at least. I want - need - a long night of fucking a hot police officer and completely forget about the stress at work and with my parents.

Harry had a strong grip around my waist and his other hand at the back of my neck, pulling me as close as he possibly could and put his lips on my waiting ones. It felt good to kiss someone - him - again and him taking charge of what would happen. After our one-nighter a few weeks ago, I’ve been craving the same feeling as Harry gave me that night as I played with myself. The intense and incredible orgasm he pulled from me and the fact that he wasn’t afraid to cuddle after gave me enough material for sex dreams the coming weeks.

A slightly broken groan exited Harry’s lips when I pulled his hair between my fingers and reciprocated the kiss with just as much fervor and eagerness, not wanting to wait for much longer to see where it would take us. His hand trailed down from my waist to rest on my bum. I let out a shaky breath as his lips moved to my jaw, leaving closed-mouth kisses in his trace down my neck. How he made me feel good in such a short amount of time and barely even touching me is absurd and I’m not sure I like that he has that effect on me. But at the same time, I love it.

Harry moved slightly forward trapping in between his body and the wall, making sure there was no way for me to move. Not that I wanted to gain space between us. No, more like the opposite as I began to unbutton his white shirt showing off his biceps and lovely chest. I couldn’t help myself as I skillfully moved lower down and finished by unbuttoning his trousers as well. It popped open and the zipper followed before I pulled the shirt off him showing off his torso though I couldn’t quite get my eyes on it yet as Harry’s head was shielding my view as he went ham on my neck. Not that I minded; wanting to show off to everyone how much of a great shag this man is.

The shirt dropped to the floor and Harry came up from my neck to meet my lips again. He moved a couple of inches making our fronts glue together. I felt his steadily growing length against my core as he thrusted his hips forward to gain some friction. When Harry heard me moan at the feeling and feel me try to pull his hips closer he smirked at me. It was hot the way he was so sure of himself this time, maybe it was the alcohol he had consumed tonight. As he kept his eyes on mine, our noses almost touching, he ground his hips into mine. The smirk was still on his lips - it might’ve grown when I let out a sound of pleasure and leaned my head on the wall.

“If you can’t tell, I really fucking want you, Alex.” Harry's lips separated at the feeling of his cock straining against his restricting jeans and his brows furrowed creating a crease between them. His frankness in wanting me - something he didn’t verbally let me know last time at least - lit a fire inside me. It felt really fucking good to know I’m wanted in that way by someone as impeccable as Harry and I don’t think I could ever remove the loving smile on my lips.

“You can have me in any way you want, I don’t have any plans tomorrow so I expect you to fuck my brains out.” Disbelief was written all over his face as his hands stopped moving where they had been groping and gripping my ass. Letting out a laugh when he got a grip on himself he shuffled out of his shoes and kicked them behind him and got his hands back on my ass, lightly slapping it before moving them lower to my thighs and picked me up. I had ran away from him the last time he tried to lift me up, but I didn’t necessarily care this time.

A squeal made its way past my lips as he quickly made his way from the hallway to his front room that I hadn’t seen before. Not that I paid any attention to it now, except for the fact that I was thrown down on an insanely comfortable gray corner sofa. Harry hovered over me and I let my fingers trail along his chest and stomach. It was definitely defined, but he didn’t have abs. I liked that he was completely ripped and still had that softness to him that I got to feel when we cuddled. He clenched his hand next to my head as he felt my fingers on him, admiring the view. It was a three-sixty to what I had just told him to do to me, but I didn’t mind. Both sides of Harry were greatly appreciated.

“I’ve been daydreaming about what your tits look like since I didn’t get to see them and it’s been killing me not knowing if I would get the chance to or not.” His deep, raspy voice was heavenly and told me I wasn’t the only one to have dreams about our time together over the last few weeks.

I shook my head at him, barely acknowledging his words, though I heard him loud and clear. Harry sank down on his knees between my parted legs to have his hands free to roam my body. He didn’t have a clear view of my pussy as I wasn’t wearing a skirt, this time my legs were covered in light wash jeans.

«Then get me naked so you can see them.» I wasn’t into him taking his time when all I wanted was to get on with it and feel the incredibly rousing and breathtaking enjoyment of having him inside me bringing us both to our highs. Though I savored the look in his eyes as he moved them from where his hands glided over my waist and hips to my - still - covered tits all the way up to my lips. It was as if he didn’t quite know where to begin although we already established that he wanted to see my tits in all their glory.

Harry suddenly got up and stood next to me - laying still on his sofa.

«Roll over.» Glancing at him, he looked completely gone as if he’s in his mind and not putting all his attention on me. Deciding that it doesn’t matter as long as he’ll fuck me I turned my body over on my front, my hands moving to lay crossed over my head.

I didn’t lay there for long before I felt Harry’s fingers back on my skin, trailing on and around the straps of my bra and the clamp before roaming down my back and to my jeans. Lifting my hips a bit so he could reach around to unbutton it and pull it down my legs, he worked quickly and meticulously. Like he knew exactly what he was working towards and how to get it. I didn’t complain nor would I complain about him doing anything and everything he wanted to do to me.

He pulled the thong barely even covering my fanny down my legs, too, before getting back in the position he was in before he got up. His naked muscular thighs behind mine and his arms holding himself up as he leaned down closer to me. He must have pulled his pants down when he was standing, only left in a pair of briefs.

“I’m gonna keep the anticipation up for a little while longer, while I enjoy you sweet little peach that I didn’t get to do last time, okay, pet?” Harry’s raspy voice whispered into my ear and pulled my hair away from my face. The difference between his rough voice and words to his gentle fingers running across my cheek and behind my ear to move my hair was strong. It continued as his fingers ran down my back, giving me goosebumps in their trail, and ended up where his front met my ass, bringing his hand up before harshly slapping it down to my cheek.

I couldn’t help but move forward at the sensation at the same time moaning at the pleasure and pain combined. Somehow, without me telling him, he must’ve realized I enjoy certain sexual things others probably don’t. With other partners they’ve never been able to detect likes or kinks or even be able to make me have a relatively good orgasm. Harry just seems to know what to do to make me putty in his hands and take joy in it.

Harry wanting to keep himself from getting the enjoyment of watching, playing or fucking my tits made me wonder how much this man likes to give and rather puts himself last in sexual situations - if not all considering his line of work.

His hands made their way down my thigh and grazing the inside of my knees before parting them to get a good look at my already soaking wet puzzy. Nothing felt awkward with Harry and I didn't have a single worry running through me as he gazed right at it before going in for a taste. It’s been forever since anyone ate me out and god was I excited about it. Previous partners haven’t really cared to spend enough time down there to get to know how I like it or even if I enjoy it or not. Though it bothered me a bit, I was just happy to be intimate with someone as guys usually tend to go for my friends walking straight past me. I’m surprised Harry showed interest - maybe that’s cause I was alone at that point.

There was no teasing when he finally dipped down and started licking and sucking my flowing juices before going further down to catch my clit between his soft lips. His nose grazed my asshole, but he didn’t seem to want more than to be within close proximities to it nor did he seem to mind. If he were to want to want to do more than just graze it I wouldn’t be opposed, but I won’t dwell on the thought until it possibly gets brought up. I couldn’t think straight as he opened his mouth around my clit and sucked. It wasn’t a teasing, light suck, but a harsh suck making my eyes roll back and the loudest cry of his name slip out of my lips.

Moving back to my entrance his tongue slipped in and out while lapping up my juices. It was as if this was his first meal of the day and he wasn’t gonna be full until I orgasmed. His hands were grasping my bum cheeks to make sure there was enough space so he could get full access and at least breathe a little bit.

My hand gripped a pillow nearby and my toes curled as I suddenly felt his thumb on my clit rubbing circles into it. The feeling of both his tongue and thumb working to get me to reach my first orgasm was all I could ask for a great start to the night.

«Please.. Harry I’m gonna cum.. Please Har- Ahh!» I begged for him to bring me to my high - not that I was far away at all, but I needed that last little push. Anything would suffice at this point. He took his thumb away and moved his mouth back on my clit, giving it full attention. The hand he was using went back on my ass for a short moment before pulling it away again. Then it came down on my cheek, hard and loud as he slapped me while tonguing and sucking at my clit. It was the last push I needed to finally orgasm, coming with a loud cry of his name ending in a moan at the feeling of his mouth not stopping until I came down.

The sensitivity I felt made me jerk forward a bit to try and move away from him. Thankfully he understood that I couldn’t take anymore right now needing a second to catch my breath before we fucked. He landed a light kiss to the asscheek he had slapped, his hands roaming my body from my thighs up to my hips along my spine ending up on my neck as his lips followed his movements. It was a sickly sweet thing to do to someone you’re only met for the second time tonight and strictly having sex with - for now at least.

I wasn’t in the right mind for a relationship, nevertheless my first relationship, nor did I want someone pining after me. Not that I would ever think Harry would be pining after someone like me when he can get someone so much better by the blink of an eye.

«You good?» I couldn’t do anything but nod my head, telling him I wanted more by shaking my hips against his pelvis. He was still wearing his pants, but the stiff cock hidden was obvious when he pressed his hips against mine. I loved feeling him get hard for me, it was the best confidence boost.

Though I had gone significantly longer between two shags last time, the three weeks between our meetings were enough for me to be just as needy for the feeling of getting filled up as I was weeks ago. Every lad I’ve been with sure haven’t left me with the same feeling, more like being needy for something better. I really don’t think I’m gonna get much better than this with Harry knowing exactly how to please me - or any woman really.

Barely hearing the sigh leaving Harry’s lips as he took his cock out of his briefs, I was somewhat surprised when I felt him between my cheeks. He rubbed himself along the space, holding himself down to get the tight feeling of it. Shaking my arse slightly to tell him to get on with it he let out a cute giggle at my urgency to get on with it. I wanted nothing more than to feel his thick cock sliding into my impossibly wet and ready pussy. Remembering how amazing he made me feel made me want to relish in it again - especially if this would be the last time this was to happen.

Harry guided his tip along my slit to gather some of my wetness along his length before situating himself at my entrance. Shuffling his knee a tiny bit forward with his other leg on the ground, he slowly made his way into me with a couple of muffled words. A groan left his mouth when he bottomed out at the same time as I let out a delicious moan, a smile finding my lips.

«Your noises are just like they’ve been in my dreams.» I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t tell me he’s dreamt of me if he wasn’t drunk, but I took in his words with a gasp as he rammed into me again.

His pace was significantly quicker than last time and I was brought close to my second orgasm in no time as his balls hit my clit when he pushed into me. My hand was clenched around the flesh of his thigh - what I could reach anyway. I’m sure my nails were digging into his warm skin but nothing was on the forefront of my mind at this very moment except for the fact that he was fucking me as if I was his favorite toy after a rough day. It was exactly what I needed and again I’m asking myself how he knows exactly what I want and need.

«Fuck, Har-» I couldn’t get out my words as his palm came down on my asscheek at the same time as he fucked into me. It was perfectly timed and I savored the pleasurable pain I got from it unlike anything else. I moved my hand from where it was on his thigh to his wrist connected to the hand planted secure on my cheek. His other had was gripping my waist forcefully as he slammed into me without caring about bruises or pain. Not that I minded in the slightest, only egging him on with the sounds I couldn’t even try to keep from his ear shot. There was no way he didn’t hear me from the way I literally screamed out in satisfaction.

«You’re so wet, pet. So fucking wet and inviting.» Harry was breathing heavily, but it seemed he planned on keeping up his pace as long as he possibly could. «You like when I get rough, huh?» He had me speechless, unable to tell him how much I was enjoying what he was doing to me. The only thing he could take from me was my gasps and breathless moans as he fucked me.

The hand previously on my waist suddenly went to my cunt, his middle finger stimulating my clit by drawing circles on it. My body unconsciously tried to move forward to get away from him as he pinched my clit - the stimulation nothing like what I’ve ever felt before. Harry held me back though and his quick pace didn’t falter one bit. It was turning me even more on how he managed to keep me back, his strong physique impressing me.

My legs were shaking and I fought to keep them up while he continued to press drawings into my clit, his right hand gripping onto the flesh of my ass. I desperately wanted to keep up, but my legs failed me as I flung forward. Harry didn’t let me relax for more than five seconds before he separated my legs a little bit to get better access to my pussy which he had slipped out of when I fell down. He guided himself back in, giving a couple slow thrusts before continuing his pace from before.

He held himself up by his arms on both sides of my head, hips hips getting us both to our highs we were longing for. It wouldn’t take much for me to get off as I was already so close and with this new position I’m much tighter making it harder for Harry to keep his orgasm back.

«C’mon, pet, I can feel you- feel you squeezin’ me tight.» I could tell Harry was close by the way he had to stop talking for a moment before finishing his sentence. I felt amazing and just a couple more thrusts of him meeting the spongy spot inside me had me coming undone around his cock.

My legs shook and my hand moved up to grip his neck, my fingers catching a fee of his curls and he let out a series of groans into my ear. I hadn’t noticed how close we had gotten when we changed position.

«Where do you want it?» I hadn’t ever been asked where I wanted the lad to spurt his cum, but I should’ve guessed he would ask as this is Harry (and he asked last time too) and not some sex crazed idiot.

«Arse. Cum on my arse Harry, please.» I breathed out, my orgasm just about at its end when Harry pulled out and jerked himself off until he came. Spurts of cum fell on my arse, some on my lower back. Harry was loud when he orgasmed, letting out moans and groans of sensitivity when he reached his tip to make sure he had got every last drop of his load out.

I laid on my front, feeling the sticky substance on my arse as I tried to get my breathing back to normal. It sounded like Harry was doing the same as he sat with his knees on either side of my right thigh getting a full view of my spent pussy and his release taking its place on me.

«I’ll go get a towel to clean you up, unless you wanna shower?» I smiled into the crook of my arm at the man sitting behind me - probably staring at how his cum had covered my red arse - offering to lend me, a one(two)-night-stand, his shower.

Telling him I’d take up his offer if he joined me, we had quickly made our way upstairs to his luxurious bathroom I had dreamt of having last time I was in here. The expansive shower was a dream and sharing it with Harry made the dream even better. It all seemed a little too domestic and intimate for it to be with someone I barely even knew. Thinking about it, I only really knew his first name, that he is a police officer and has a lush house I could barely see myself having in the future.

Harry took the showerhead from its place on the wall and turned it on, the water turned away from us so we wouldn’t feel the cold water. When the water heated up, he told me to turn around and grabbed the body wash he had in here. He angled to shower head to my back, spending extra time on my arse to get away his cum before lathering the area along with my legs with his soap, cleaning me up.

It felt nice to have someone spend this much time on my body, but not having a sexual desire behind it - in this very moment at least. Though it scared me how it didn’t feel awkward at all and he didn’t care a bit about how I mostly only let him see my back. I didn’t feel comfortable showing him my pouch in the light room even if he said he wouldn’t care or not.

When he finished rinsing the soap off of me, he put himself under the other showerhead fastened to the roof making it like a waterfall. He looked tired and spent, ready to sleep for a week straight. I couldn’t help but think it was more that a hot fucking that made him this tired.

«Was I too rough? Can see marks on your waist and your arse is red as.» Harry skimmed his fingers along my waist going down to my cheeks, carefully caressing them as it was kinda painful. A good pain.

«No, I liked it. Just what I needed, and it seemed you did too?» I tried to be sneaky about my question wanting to get something out of him about his life so I could have something more to hold on to as we said goodbye in the morning.

He looked defeated when I questioned him and as if he was rolling events through his mind after not thinking about it since earlier this afternoon. Shrugging and letting out a heavy breath he opened the shower door and put a towel around his waist after running it through his hair.

«It’s been a tough week with a case we can't seem to figure out. I was so glad I ran into you and got to think about something else for a bit, so thank you, I guess.» He wasn’t thanking me for the sex, but for letting him take the reigns and get out of his head. It didn’t seem like a good time to tell him that I needed it just as much as he did, but I hoped he understood.

Drying our bodies, Harry made his way into his closet to get me a shirt and himself a pair of briefs. He was back in his own thoughts again, quiet and thinking. Knowing we needed each other to forget, I grabbed his wrist as he made his way out of the bathroom again and pulled him against me.

He had been making a big deal about my tits all night and when he finally got to see them when we got in the shower, he didn’t do anything about it. I was confused. Was he not pleased with how they looked or was just not in the right mind anymore?

«It seems you forgot about a certain body part of mine tonight. And I think you know which part I’m talking about.» We held our eyes on each other as I spoke, my voice barely above a whisper. He didn’t do anything until I moved my hand to unwrap the towel still around my body. Slowly, the towel slid down my body landing in a puddle around my feet. I let go of my own insecurities about my body as I stood completely bare in front of him. It was as if he was in a trance when he finally moved his eyes down.

After taking my tits in fully it really didn’t take much for him to dive in. One was occupied by his hand, fingers pinching my nipple and grabbing it, probably leaving marks there too. The other was covered by his mouth, teeth grazing the nipple pulling it a bit to get every reaction he could out of me by playing with my tits. I stood in the middle of his bathroom, completely nude, as he took his time looking, fingering, sucking at my nipples and chest. Knowing it probably wouldn’t be enough go get him fully hard, I pulled his briefs down to his thighs, not able to reach further. His cock was barely starting to get hard, but I like feeling him grow in my hands.

He groaned when he felt my hands on him and he bit my nipple at the feeling, enough to get a moan from me.

«I want you to fuck my tits, Harry.» No one had fucked my tits before, but I want Harry to cum by my tits. It was hot and lewd and I wanted it just as much for me as for him. Having a man cum twice in a night for me was definitely a wish come true.

«I-I..» I laughed at Harry’s face, shocked with wide eyes and jaw hung. «Yes ma’am.» He giggled like a little boy when he got his head together understanding what I was asking him to do.

His hands found their place on my waist as his lips met mine in a messy kiss. Teeth clashing and tongues licking into the others mouth to get a taste. I walked with him as he began backing out of the bathroom to get to his bedroom. The kiss slowed down, our lips meeting in what could only be described as two people filled with lust and need for each other. Our hands couldn’t find a specific spot to hold on to, gripping, touching and getting to know every part of his body that was reachable.

«I must be in a dream. A fucking stunning woman asking me to fuck her tits.» Harry seemed stunned just like a couple of moments ago in the bathroom.

—

After finishing in my mouth, I got up to brush my teeth and get ready for bed pulling on the shirt he gave me after our shower. It wasn’t awkward when I came back to bed, Harry had put his briefs back on and was laying on his back close to the middle, his eyes closed almost falling asleep.

Shuffling under the blankets without making too many movements I laid my head on the pillow. His bed felt just as comfortable as I remember and I was excited to have a well-needed lay in.

«Do you have work in the morning?» I suddenly remember what he said last time about having the early morning shift on most Saturdays. Praying that he had tomorrow off, I turned to watch him as he sighed and moved to pull my body in flush against his.

«Sort of. I’m on call so I might be lucky and not get called on until later, but that’s wishful thinking honestly.» Closing my eyes I rested my head on his chest and quickly found peace in his fingers trailing down the side of my waist and his lips pecking my head as a way of saying goodnight.

thank you for reading and as I said, I’d really appreciate a reblog to get my writing out there <33

#harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles ff #writing #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry x oc #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #fwb!h #fwb!harry

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