#it's taken a hot minute and

[valorxdrive]

Gotta speak my truth.

A reason why the passion has dwindled on this blog, why I've sought other avenues. It hasn't really been the drought of content as much as the issue in what's already here. In short, it's the new angle of SQ's direction with the KH series that leaves me uncertain.

It all begins with a game called KH3, moreso, how it really feels like it was a title that didn't care about itself in terms of a grand finale or the fans who wanted a solid conclusion before a new chapter.

I genuinely dislike it with a whole lot of my heart.

I'll dip into why down below! Stick around for the ride if ya like.

I've sat here across the years genuinely contemplating it. Seeing people heavily defend it (myself too at one point), though who abhorred it for seeing things sooner (or just took it too far.) Had discussion with friends and it truly clicked to me what bothered me so much with the KH3 title.

It genuinely does not give a fuck. In a bizarre way, this is the first time I've seen a video game, even with it's complicated history that's just so utterly prepared to be finished with itself.

What struck me the most about this is how done it was with dealing with Xehanort as an antagonist. Bringing no connection with him to the worlds, or to the main cast, how he was simply relegated to the hurdle that had to be surpassed. This in kind extends to the heroes dealing with him too, that remains connected. So that brings the question, what did warrant all of their attention?

Verum Rex and Union X. Two aspects which are vividly 'new'-, the more exciting, new grounds to no longer have to bring concerns with the current epic that was being made.

The way these things were shoo'd in at the expense of the characters and the wonder of the KH world really miffs me. So much of the actual effort was made in turning KH3 into a springboard FOR these concepts, the new beginning and it allows for the keyblade war to be entrenched in a piss poor execution.

Another aspect I'd love to really dive on, being a Sora blog, is Sora's particular journey. This holds a firm eye towards the Disney worlds and mixing it with the cast of characters in there, and the KH originals. You can entirely omit the Disney journey and have literally nothing change. From the moment you hop from Yen Sid's tower, to the moment you go and save Aqua, this part of the game from the story perspective is entirely pointless. To those who care about the story. To those who CARE about disney 1 for 1's (like singing Let it go in new graphics fml), who are more concerned about the shiny new Verum Rex (vs XIII reboot) or the perspective of the Union X things, it'd be a fine enough meal.

I want to actually dig into why however. It's a simple angle, they don't care about his current goals in lieu of bringing shiny new worlds in akin to jingling car keys. The goal of finding a means to bring Roxas back, and in order to draw back the Power of Waking that found itself lost in DDD.

Both of these don't require external adventures. It needs insight, it needs the retracting of old grounds, and I'm damn sure that the perspective of Disney was not going to allow for that. So on this front unless a heavy push was warranted, I genuinely wouldn't of seen it changing. How are you going to find clues for Roxas in Arendelle for example?

Unless Sora has more Heart related ventures after each world, what in the fuck was this roaming going to do to unlock the power of waking again? A journey to find something important in KH is usually coupled by heavy character development, a way they come to re-look at how they see the surrounding world, their situation and themselves. The fact that a completely unrelated situation from Sora, despite his caring nature was the trigger to unlocking this.

For Ventus's disembodied heart to say it was always there was a pitchfork through the heart of this.

The fact that they've always said that recovering this power was essential for saving Aqua, when you literally can hop in and kick her butt, prompt no connection of ripping corruption away or anything via the Power of Waking says more than enough. You genuinely see that by the end of a lot of main cast characters being nods to the audience, or bots made for exposition, they've outright abandoned these concepts before your eyes.

I genuinely could continue on but this has become bloated.

For the journey for the current cast, the premise of KH3 is perfect as an adventure and inevitable showdown, but the execution is atrocious (the raw lack of opposing parties facing each other, showcasing the threat of Xehanort set to end all reality), and would genuinely require an entire game overhaul. Again, the execution. This extends to so much of the story decisions, to a LOT of the gameplay (whole dif can of worms) on top of that. I've really needed to recognize this and really have my genuinely lens set on it, no other opinions diluting my opinion on the matter.

I can understand why people who KH3 has the laughing stock/joke of the series.

Recognizing this has felt refreshing to me. It gives me a more distinct image that down the line, I really don't mind taking a canon divergent perspective at all. The mythos of KH and so much it has built is a fever dream of the best proportions, I however, genuinely want to carry on that I tenderly love which has always been the try and true flame of this series. I won't let nostalgia blind me, nor the ~future excitement~ either.

My nostalgia and my value as a fan is worth something to me. Nomura and co genuinely have to begin cooking again for me to gamble in that corner again.

[feroluce]

Love how Hoyo is just as much on Boothill's dick as the rest of us. The Wardance crowd really is just the fandom fjkdlsajlksl

[dblsoul]

arcane rituals

[crypt2niite]

i think this recent chapter of one piece really made it click in alot of peoples minds that coby is a marine. a true, dedicated marine who believes wholeheartedly in the marine cause.

mild spoilers for one piece 1122.

this chapter and specifically yhis panel

really solidifies that coby is a marine. coby is wholeheartedly a marine who wholeheartedly believes being a marine is the right thing, and that makes him one of three things.

1.) a cruel facist wannabe who idiolizes what the marines are right now and everything they represent

2.) a complacent idiot who, in blind and naive stupidity has allowed himself to be used by facists to enforce their regime unknowingly

3.) a even more naive idiot who genuinely believes one person has the ability to tear down a hundreds of years old dictatorship and the instutional police planet that has been built apoj those foundations from the inside without piggybacking off of the work, blood, death and tears of the rioters, revolutionaries and inssurectionists who are ripping down and fighting against the marines and world goverment in a immediately impactful way

coby is a true marine and what that means is blind faith in the marines no matter what that means for you, blind faith in your version of the marines, in the pipe dream that ‘you’re helping!’ that ‘its not perfect but i can make it better! i can change it from the inside im a true hero!!! i can do this thr right way. no awful unrulyness or law breaking. because the system itself is good, its just the bad people in charge 🥺’

coby is a true marine in the way garp is a true marine because they both are so close to being good people but will never be one and never had the potential to be ones, because of them being marines to their very core. no matter what.

coby is garps apprentice and it shows. garp is willing to throw away any attatchments he has, to watch young boys he promised to care for die because they contridict his belief in the marines, just as coby is willing to discard the one person who gave him a chance to be *anything* because that person contradicts his belief in the marines

the ‘good marines’. coby, garp, smoker, fujitora, ectect are some of my absolute favorite flavour of characters in one piece, they all have some way of burying their head in the sand, either via naivete, willful ignorance or what may be. theyre all absolutely awful, so easy to love and so hard to hate but so easy to dislike, its so easy to want them to just. fix it. become a pirate or fix the marines or do something to make them compatable with luffy, with freedom but they wont be. they never will be unless they can cast aside some of the very fundamentals of their psyche becase in the end, they are using their abilities to defend and aid the goals and wishes of a dictatorship, to defend the proprieters of slavery and cruelty.

also please dont take this as me hating coby or garp or saying u cant love them! i really like coby and think garp is funny atleast, and fujitora, one of the aformentioned so called ‘good’ marines is one of my favourite characters, period! he is so facinating in how he balances believing himself to be a good person while also actively supporting atrocities i love him sooo much

[princess-kittyxoxo]

Tummy & Thighs

CashApp | Venmo | Ko-fi

[lightbluesleeper]

tma doodle dump !

[netripper]

10,000 EMERALD POOLS this was almost scrapped but i looked at it again and went "ok this is fine actually". but heres the filename:

[extradimensional-catboy]

Well, well!

Look who’s finally back in town! Hello again, world! What did I miss?

[baede-6]

Warlock friend:"Where are you?"

Titan:"I can almost guarantee you that she's with Crow."

Me:"What? Pfft. No."

Titan friend:"She's with Crow."

Me:"Listen. I finally have one of my kind (Hunter) in the Tower ok? Leave me alone."

Titan friend:"We're not leaving you alone with Crow."

Warlock:"You'd like that wouldn't you?" 😏

Me:"I just lost Cayde guys..."

Titan:"Look at the map. She's with Crow."

Me:"He's just so beefy." (😂)

(and yes,this is a conversation that happens fairly often.😂)

[separatist-apologist]

Still A Sunbeam

Summary: As a child, Elain Archeron is pushed into a pond by the heir to the Day Courts throne, Lucien Spell-Cleaver, and vows she'll never forgive him for it. But as an adult, Elain finds that if she wants out of an arranged marriage to a Spring Court prince, she will need Day Court's help. More is at stake than a decades-old rivalry, and when their home is threatened, Elain and Lucien will have to set aside old differences and work together

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Read on AO3

Elain woke to Lucien drooling against her neck, his cock rigid against her backside. It was tempting to roll over, hike up her night dress, and take what he was offering. Instead of doing so, Elain reached for his arm and pulled herself closer.

“Good morning,” Lucien whispered roughly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Elain twisted so she could look at him. Tangled red hair and sleep stained eyes greeted her. She liked him best like this—as far as Elain knew, no one else had access to the prince when he was like this. Maybe for a few brief moments before he’d kicked them out of his bed, but never so frequently, and for as long as she did. 

“You’re in my bed again,” Lucien added when Elain only offered him a smile. 

“I like your bed,” Elain told him, stretching out her legs for emphasis. 

“Should I have your pink sheets put against my mattress?” he asked with that easy, lazy grin. 

“Only if you feel compelled to.”

“Oh, I feel very compelled, Elain. Maybe I’ll do a little renovating while you’re gone.”

Heart pounding with delight, Elain kissed just beneath his jaw. “What kind of renovating?”

Lucien pressed a finger to her lips. “That’s a secret, pretty princess. My gift to my mate when she returns—”

“Lucien, if you hang a mirror above the bed I swear to the mother above I’ll—”

His hand covered her mouth, though his laughter did a good job drowning out the rest of her threat. Elain couldn’t find it in her to be irritated when he looked so happy. 

“That is the best idea you’ve ever had,” Lucien told her, looking up at the canopy above them. “I could arrange that with ease.”

“But you won’t,” Elain replied, poking him in the stomach. Lucien didn’t agree, and Elain worried she’d just given him an idea he’d never shake and for the rest of her life, there would always be a mirror above the bed they shared while her mate cajoled her to climb atop him so he could watch himself every time they came together. 

Lucien's smile made no promises. Elain sighed, though in truth she couldn’t really be angry with him. If that was the worst thing he did, she considered herself lucky. All he wanted was to watch her, which was much better than the alternatives. Lucien hadn’t said a word about children, which was something Killian had mentioned so often to her growing up that she knew exactly how many he wanted. 

“Lucien?” Elain asked, lost to that thought. He nipped at her neck, rubbing the hard length of his cock against her hip. “Do you want children someday?”

Lucien was across the room so quickly Elain couldn’t track the movement. Back pressed to the wall, chest heaving, Lucien asked, “Why would you ask me that?”

Elain inhaled, drinking in his shifting scent. “Are you scared?”

Ashen faced, Lucien said, “No. Just…why are you asking me?”

“Because it seems like something I should know,” she replied reasonably. This was the easiest she’d ever gotten him out of bed. She’d have to remember, maybe suggest she wanted a child whenever Lucien wouldn’t budge. 

“I ah…I do,” he finally said, his words careful. “Someday,” he added, emphasizing the word heavily. “Maybe when I’m a few centuries old? Do ah…do you?”

Elain could have kissed him for that. In fact, she would, she decided as she swung her legs out of the  bed. Lucien tracked her every movement, his wild eyes guarded. Elain pressed her palm against his bare chest, surged upward on her tiptoes, and kissed his cheek.

“Someday,” she agreed. 

“Did you ask me that so I’d let you out of bed?” The outrage in his tone made Elain laugh. 

“Of course not. You think I’d be so devious I’d trick my own mate out of bed when kicking him with my cold feet works just as well?”

“Cruel,” Lucien chided, darting forward so he could pull her against his chest. “Very cruel, Elain. I was going to let you go, you know. After I had my fill…”

“Lucien,” she tried, her protest weak even to her own ears. Mouth dragging over the back of her neck, his hands sliding up her thigh, Lucien murmured. “Elain?”

“Stop,” she whispered, not meaning any part of it. It had been too long, she decided, since she’d felt the pleasure of his touch. If she was about to go off to Autumn, maybe it would be nice to have this memory of him as a reminder of what was waiting when she returned. 

“Stop?” he asked, pulling his hand away from where she wanted it. “Was that what you said?”

Elain arched her neck back, eyes fluttering shut. “Don’t stop, Lucien.”

“That’s what I thought I heard,” he breathed, his words shifting to a groan when his finger found the wetness already gathering between her legs. “Get on the bed, Elain.”

She just barely made it to the edge before Lucien was on his knees, pushing up her night dress while dragging her legs up over his naked shoulders. He pressed a twin set of kisses against her inner thigh, holding her gaze for just a moment. It was a silent question, waiting a heartbeat for her to tell him no—and Elain’s silent permission to do whatever he liked within reason. 

Without another word spoken, Lucien lowered his mouth and Elain closed her eyes. 

When she was alone, she sometimes wondered if it was wrong to let Lucien touch her the way he did. And then he’d kiss her and Elain would forget all about those old fears—the lessons hammered against her skull that her body belonged only to her future husband, and not herself. That she was supposed to wait and keep herself pure for his enjoyment. 

If she’d wanted to, Elain could have convinced herself rather easily that she’d done just that. Lucien would be her husband eventually. He was her mate, after all. It seemed to track that Lucien would ask her to be his wife after she accepted the bond, and Elain would have done exactly as she’d been told.

Lucien’s tongue slid up her body, emptying her of the realization that, despite her best efforts, Elain was still giving herself solely to one male for the rest of her life. Lucien gave her no time to really untease that, ravenous as usual. Elain writhed at the feel of his tongue sliding up and down her clit. Lucien wasn’t wasting time today, well aware she still needed to bathe and dress before she could leave him.

And, she guessed, he was hoping for a little reciprocation. Elain was happy to provide him that, if only to leave him with the memory of how sweet his mate was when he was lying awake at night lonely. She’d keep him from the orgies, if nothing else. 

Threading her fingers through his hair, Elain held Lucien closer. Spreading her legs, Elain offered Lucien access to all of her, pleased when he slid two of his fingers into her with a soft, whimpering groan. It was tempting to pull him over her, to through caution to the wind and offer herself up fully.

And she’d never leave. Instead, Elain planted her heels on his shoulders, rolling and grinding her hips against him to chase the heady pleasure washing over her. Lucien licked with a ravenous, desperate hunger that all but consumed her.

“More,” she pleaded, encouraging him to speed his thrusting fingers and lapping tongue. Lucien was quite talented, working himself in tandem so he rubbed some inner place that made Elain writhe and squirm. Release crested, drawing her higher and higher until she broke apart with a sob into the blanket to keep the whole palace from hearing them.

It was one thing for his parents to know what they were doing and another for them to hear it, after all. Thighs squeezed tight around her face, Elain forced Lucien to ride her through her orgasm until she was sated and spent, trembling from the aftershocks. Only then did he pull back, wiping the back of his mouth on his hand.

“In case one of my brothers try something,” he panted, leaning over her for a kiss. “I want you to remember that.”

“You think I’d fool around with one of your brothers?” she gaped, fingers trailing down his bare chest. Lucien shuddered.

“No,” he whispered when she found the drawstring of his sleep pants. “But I think they’d still try.”

“I’m not tempted,” she replied, pulling his very rigid cock from his pants. “Though…”

“Yes?” he rasped, sliding his fingers in her hair as they traded places. It was Elain on her knees now, staring up at the prince watching her through half-lidded eyes. 

“Before the bond snapped, I had been thinking that I’d like to sleep with a male who wouldn’t one day be my husband.”

Lucien choked as Elain licked the underside of his shaft. 

“What?” he replied, dazed and clearly confused. “You want…someone else?”

“Experience,” she replied, though she wasn’t even sure if that was true anymore. And because she was embarrassed for having even said that at all, Elain took him into her mouth in an attempt to erase the thought from his mind. After their argument the night before, Elain wondered if this was the wrong time to tell him.

Lucien threw his head back. “You want to get married?” he panted.

Was that all he heard? Elain couldn’t exactly respond given how tight his fingers were gripping her hair, pulling her further down his shaft until the heavy crown of his cock was pressed against the back of her throat. 

Lucien was watching her though. 

“The parties,” Lucien breathed, tangling knots in her hair. “If you let me watch, I…” he trailed off, whimpering softly when she gently grazed her teeth against the sensitive flesh of his cock.

Lucien was so absurd, she thought affectionately. He was going to give her what she wanted regardless. Mating bond or not, marriage or not, Elain suspected Lucien still would have allowed her this if they’d just been courting. It had never occurred to her that this was done in Day Court—one did not need to be single in order to enjoy all it offered.

She didn’t know if she was ready for that, though she liked he was giving her the option. And clearly imagining it, if his heaving chest and breathless moans were any indication. What fantasies did her mate harbor, she wondered? And what would it be like to spend centuries unraveling and exploring them? Elain had no imagination for it other than just being beneath him, but perhaps once she grew accustomed to wanting pleasure, she’d have them, too. 

Lucien came with a grunt, pupils big and blown out. Just in time, given how badly her knees had begun to ache. Elain didn’t know how Lucien could stand to be down as long as he was and was grateful when he reached for her arms, pulling her effortlessly to her feet. 

He kissed her fervently—desperately. Elain suspected he liked the taste of himself in her mouth though he’d never said so. It was a territorial thing. She was his and he was hers—and everyone knew because his scent was all over her. A scent she’d need to wash off vigorously if she wanted to keep Beron Vanserra from learning the truth and ratting her out. Elain would need to be careful when it came time to tell her family.

And she’d need an accepted bond to soften the blow. 

That was for another day, though. Get through Autumn, accept her mating bond, and then she’d worry about her mother. 

“I need to take a bath, Lucien,” she whispered, kissing him again just for good measure. Just because she could and because she wanted to.

Lucien groaned, pressing his forehead against her own. “What am I supposed to do without you for a whole week?”

“Try behaving yourself,” she suggested, poking him gently in the ribs. 

“No promises,” Lucien replied. 

It was on the tip of her tongue to say more. To tell him the true depth of her feelings and what she thought had begun to bloom between them. Elain didn’t dare, if only to prevent him from begging her to stay with him. Instead, she kissed his cheek.

“Will you see me out?”

“Nothing could keep me,” he replied, ushering her out the door with an easy smile. “Go, before you’re late.”

Elain slipped out, looking over her shoulder to find him leaning against the door, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her go.

I love you.

She almost said it.

LUCIEN:

Elain and Arina swanned out in long-sleeved gowns too ugly for even his mother to comment on. Lucien hadn’t dared to touch her, spelled carefully by Arina so the High Lord of Autumn would scent only what she wanted him to. It was dangerous to let Eris’s mate walk into the Forest House and Arina could not be dissuaded.

Even when Helion warned her that the laws of Autumn differed from those in Day. If Beron or Eris demanded she stay, Helion would not be able to intervene. Arina had agreed which made Lucien suspicious. It might have been a mystery worth untangling had someone different not come knocking on the front door of the Sun Palace.

Rhysand. Oozing darkness and starry eyed and wholly overdressed in that black and silver tunic of his. He was closer to Lucien’s fathers age, and had been friends with Helion before his own father became High Lord. 

It was like the mother was listening to him and decided to directly intervene. Lucien stepped in front of Rhysand, ignoring the sly smirk that graced the prince of Night’s features. “Little Lucien,” he said with a sneering smile, as though they were matched for height. Lucien didn’t bother to roll his eyes.

“Why are you here?”

“My business is with your father,” Rhysand replied, looking around Lucien’s body. “Where is he?”

“Busy,” Lucien lied. He had no idea where his father was. “I have a question for you.”

Rhysand arched one of his brows. “Oh? What could you possibly need from little old me?”

“I heard you were housing Feyre Archeron,” Lucien began, watching Rhysand carefully. The prince’s violet gaze sharpened, his expression shadowed to hide whatever he was thinking.

“And?”

“How is it going?” Lucien demanded, foregoing subtly for honesty. 

Rhysand was utterly rigid. “Fine, I presume. I rarely see the princess.”

Liar. He was far too uncomfortable, too tense, for a male who never saw her. Lucien had heard the rumors, too. 

“So she isn’t refusing to return to Spring?” Lucien questioned, crossing his own arms over his bare chest. 

“Is that what you’ve heard? Killian, I presume? Sniffing around for information from sweet Elain Archeron? Where is she, anyway?”

“Autumn,” Lucien said flatly.

“She’ll fit right in,” Rhysand murmured thoughtfully. “What else has he told you?”

So Rhysand didn’t know about Elain, then. Good. Lucien didn’t let up, though internally he relaxed ever so slightly. Whatever rumors existed between himself and Elain were contained to the seasonal courts and Killian’s own jealousy. 

“That you’ve corrupted the princess,” Lucien lied, wondering if Rhysand could tell. “That you and your warriors have stolen the other two Archeron’s and don’t intend to return them.”

Rhys’s slick smile returned. “Maybe they’ve decided they enjoy darkness more than pretty flowers.”

“She could leave?”

Rhysand shrugged. “If she wished. She’s not our prisoner but our guest. And despite what Killian has been whispering in his betrothed’s ear, Feyre came to me for aid and little more.” Lucien opened his mouth to ask what sort of aid Rhysand was providing but his father rounded the corner, eyes bright.

“Rhys!” Helion called, his delight plain. “You made it.”

Rhysand smiled again, slick as ever. “Just making conversation with your charming son.”

Helion nodded at Lucien, beckoning for Rhysand to follow him. Dismissed without so many words and though Rhysand likely thought he’d given Lucien nothing useful, he’d given him plenty. Feyre hadn’t been stolen but had escaped, harbored by a solar court at the far reaches of Prythian. No one went through Night’s borders and came back to talk about it. Lucien hadn’t been, though he knew his father had seen the court and didn’t particularly care for it. 

What was rotting in Spring? Lucien was desperate to learn, and the only way to find out the truth of it was to go to Spring himself. Lucien, of course, had no intention of doing so. He could pump Elain for information when she returned regarding what might have made Feyre run off and piece it all together. 

Her sister marrying a Night Court prince certainly helped him. If a mother had to choose between himself and Rhysand, who wouldn’t prefer Lucien Spell-Cleaver? That was what Lucien told himself, anyway, as he meandered aimlessly. He couldn’t remember how he’d used to spend his time before Elain, though surely he had hobbies.

Friends, too.

He’d intended to make his way to the courtyard and see if there was someone he could bully into sparring. Instead, Lucien found his mother in a floppy hat, gardening sheers in hand and surrounded by a cloud of bees. Lucien might have escaped her notice had he not been stung—or had he not shouted fuck, ow! Loud enough it drew her attention.

“Lucien,” she said, eyes bright with delight. “I was hoping I’d see you this morning.”

“Oh?” Despite the bees and the heat, Lucien couldn’t disappoint his mother. Not after what Eris had said. He inched closer, the soles of his sandals slapping loudly against the burning sandstone beneath. 

“You’ve been busy,” she said, turning her face to face him. Lucien caught her pink cheeks burning in the sunlight, just barely concealed beneath the wide-brim hat she wore. “But with Elain gone, I thought we might have a chance to speak.”

“About her?”

“Yes,” his mother agreed, dropping back to a crouch before her bushes. “I know how…heady…a mate can be. And how terrifying, too.”

“You were excited about her just yesterday,” Lucien reminded her, kneeling in the dirt beside his mother. “You promised me a wedding.”

“So I did,” she said with a smile. “But it occurred to me late last night that you’re still my son and you might be feeling how I did when the bond snapped between your father and I.”

“Which was what?” Lucien asked curiously. All he’d ever heard was their shared joy, though he supposed there was probably a little more to it. 

“Fear,” she admitted, reaching for a small spade. “So much fear. I spent a good year pretending I felt nothing at all, and when I couldn’t deny the pull, I…”

Horror wove its way through Luciens’ chest. “Why are you telling me this?”

“You two haven’t accepted,” his mother replied, careful not to look at him. 

“We’re still getting to know each other,” Lucien told her, though in truth it wasn’t his choice. He would have accepted that minute in Summer if Elain had wanted. His mother didn’t understand, but his father would—Lucien was at her mercy. The laws of Day, like all the solar courts, required males to wait on their female mates. If Elain wanted to draw things out, she could and Lucien was bound by laws far older than him.

She’d promised him a week, and Lucien believed her. But even if she’d promised a century, he would have waited. What was a week, a month, a hundred years in the face of eternal life? 

His mother drew a soft breath. “It’s okay not to want the bond–”

“I want it,” Lucien interrupted, panic flooding through him. “I want her. I—” 

I love her, though that revelation was too new to be spoken out loud. His mother glanced toward him, russet eyes sparkling in the sunlight. “Was it difficult to leave Autumn?”

Pain shuttered her expression. He regretted asking such an obvious question. Of course it had. That was why Eris was always stomping around, pissed she’d left? And why his mother let him when she’d have been better served keeping him far, far away from her new home? 

“Yes,” she told him. “I still miss it. Someday…” She didn’t finish that sentence, nor did Lucien force her to. He knew what she hoped for. Beron would die and she’d be able to return and see what remained of her family and visit her sons rather than force them to constantly come to Day where they didn’t belong. 

“Someday,” Lucien agreed. Would Elain ever be allowed home, or would the High Lords sons shun her entirely? He’d never really considered what accepting the bond might mean. Lucien vowed to ask, and to work to keep things between himself and Killain civil for Elain’s sake.

Easier said than done, Lucien told himself as his mother roped him into weeding the little patch she was working on. By the time Lucien escaped to the cool air of the palace, sweat was sliding down his back. He was disgusting and grateful Elain wasn’t around to see him brought so low by his own mother.

“Lucien Spell-Cleaver.”

Dread pooled in Lucien’s gut. Turning his head, he found himself face to face with the second and fourth sons of Spring—Killian and Tamlin. Tamlin, at least, looked properly embarrassed while Killian looked self-righteous as ever.

Elain’s intended. Handsome, statuesque Killian, dressed immaculately in robin's egg blue. Tamlin stepped back a step, content to watch his older brother cross the marble floors of the sun palace as though he owned it.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” Lucien heard himself saying. Rhysand was here, now Killian…there better be a war just outside their doorstep for two princes to be gracing their territory all at once. 

“I’ve come on urgent business,” Killian replied, hand sliding in his pocket. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—

“Which is what, exactly?” Lucien demanded, catching the eye of several lingering courtiers. Go, he ordered silently. Get the High Lord. 

Whether they understood the look in his eye or not remained to be seen. 

“Where is Elain?” Killian asked instead, looking at Lucien like he was nothing of consequence. A servant to be ordered around. Lucien felt his hackles rising at the thought of another male alone with his mate. He’d kill Killian. “Not here.”

Green eyes pierced through Lucien. “Excuse me?”

Letting her leave had been the right thing, he decided. Killian’s fury was a palpable thing, causing his youngest brother to shrink back with unmistakable fear. Killian had come, based on rumors, to secure Elain and Elain, the sweet, clever thing, had thwarted him yet again. Pride warred with fury. He loved her for leaving just as he hated Killian for figuring out a way to trap her.

Lucien took a careful step toward Killian. “You heard me. She’s gone. Our females are allowed to do that here.”

“Where did she go?”

Lucien shrugged. “If you’d arranged this visit with the High Lord and Lady of Day, you’d know. They oversee her education, after all—”

“But you know,” Killian hissed furiously. “You know exactly where she is.”

Lucien smiled. “I suggest you take this matter up with the High Lord, as is the law. And I would tread very carefully, prince. My father may be good natured, but he is still High Lord.”

How Lucien wished his father would imprison Killian, even for a night, for his arrogance. He wouldn’t, but Lucien could dream. As far as things went, though, Lucien still outranked Killian. He was heir, Killian was merely a spare son and little more. He turned his back, a dismissal that earned him a soft snarl. Lucien could have had him punished for that, too—it sounded just threatening enough to make his case.

He might have walked away had Killian not said, “There are rumors about the two of you. That you’ve compromised her.”

Lucien laughed. “Is that why you’ve come? To check her maidenhead? I assure you, prince, if the lady has divested herself of it, it was not done by my hand…or any other part of me.”

Not yet, he wanted to say. Though Elain might still choose to take another lover before she returned to him and as long as Lucien couldn’t scent that male on her skin, he’d pretend he didn’t care. 

“What is going on between the two of you?” Killian’s voice trailed after him, boots echoing off the stone. “I want—”

“You!” Tamlin’s voice kept Lucien and Killian from their messy, near-violent showdown. If Killain got much closer, he’d scent Elain on Lucien’s skin and piece things together. Rhysand, turning a corner with Lucien’s father, had accidentally spared Lucien. 

Unlike Lucien, who was determined to lie until he couldn’t, Rhys seemed happy to lean into Tamlin’s accusation.

“Me,” he said with a courtier's smile. He was slicker than the warrior-born Spring heirs—meaner, too, if Lucien had to guess. Far older than Tamlin, who was a couple decades older than Lucien.

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

“What are you doing here?” Lucien’s father added, his voice rich with recrimination. “You have no right to step into my home without an invitation.”

“I’m here to see my future wife—”

A snarl ripped through Lucien unbidden, earning a look of triumph from Killain. He turned as though to say I knew it! 

“What is it with Spring Court males and rejection?” Rhysand asked, picking at a stray thread at his sleeve. “If a female begs another court to take her in, that's a hint she does not want to live with you.”

“Where have you hidden Feyre?” Tamlin demanded, clearly deciding he’d take the Night Court prince. “You will tell me or—”

“Or what?” Rhysand purred, advancing on them both. Shadow rippled around him, blotting out the bright daylight pouring in through the atrium overhead. “Will you force her home? Force her to marry you when she has stated plainly she doesn’t want you?”

“You’ve brainwashed—”

It was Rhysand’s turn to snarl, his handsome face slipping into a mask of nightmares, so grotesque that even the High Lord of Day blanched at the sight. 

“OUT!” It was Helion who spoke the words, his magic punching them all in the chest. Lucien stumbled back a step, excluded from that formal warning.

“This is war,” Tamlin whispered to Rhysand, stepping backward because he had to. Killain, too, was looking at Lucien with accusation though Lucien hardly cared. Elain was safe in Autumn and bound to his mother through some magical agreement Killain couldn’t violate without killing Elain. He waved, grinning as the brothers all but sprinted for the exit, forced out by whatever his father had put in his order.

That should have been the end of it. Lucien intended to send a warning to Elain just to be safe, but halted when Rhysand turned back to his father. The mask was gone, replaced only with a look of desperation. 

“Please,” the prince of Night whispered. “She’s my mate.”

His father drew a breath.

“If it comes to war, of course we’ll stand with you.”

Rhysand nodded his head, not daring to look at Lucien.

“Thank you.”

War.

Over one female. 

Lucien wondered if his father had agreed not because he thought Rhysand was in the right, but because he suspected a similar declaration would be levied against Lucien, too. 

But while Rhysand was filled with obvious relief, Lucien only felt horror. Feyre Archeron might be content to remain in Night, even if the High Lord of Spring declared she had to return and marched his armies to their borders, Elain would not. She would go home, bond or not, and marry Killian to prevent any suffering on her behalf.

And all Lucien could do was pray it wouldn’t come to that.

[queenofbaws]

blood 👏 draw 👏 complete 👏👏👏

i 👏 fuckin 👏 survived 👏👏👏

then 👏 i 👏 got 👏 a 👏 milkshake 👏 because 👏 i 👏 was 👏 so 👏 brave 👏👏👏

[togepies]

wheeeee guess who is finally starting phantom liberty

[ganondorf]

posts that are like We need to support detrans people too!! like ok but just about every person i've met or seen who actually calls themselves detrans has been super transphobic so 🤷‍♂️

and like the concept of detransitioning inherently like. there's nothing wrong with that and IS something that needs support and like i could not care less if you once identified as trans and then later realized you weren't and idec if you actively Regret transitioning like. what that means to you is your business. but everyone i see who actually calls themselves detrans are always advocating for taking away the rights and happiness of Other ppl because being trans didn't work for them Personally

[jonathanbyersphd]

Jonathan + Sweaters EVERYBODY MOVED ON I STAYED THERE 

^ A note I left for myself while incredibly high last night ... anyways bring back the sweaters for s5  🙏

[tentacleteapot]

.

[flustereddykefag]

hmmmm what if I posted nudes. if I post nudes would you (the person reading this) be niceys to me about it