#ive worked here for a year. one singular year. anyway

[emossiest]

Day 8

Still recovering from my sickness and was given the lovely news that my boss will be overscheduling me for an indeterminate amount of time because the only other closer at work quit :D

so i probably will not be getting much writing done in the near future. ah well. it was an honest effort

[florida3exclamationpoints]

Yall wanna hear about smth? good im gonna rant in the tags anyway

[sincerelyverena]

Can you write for sub!Oliver? I'm so desperate seeing him squirming and whining😮‍💨

⟡⁺ RUN, BUNNY, RUN

oh hi guys its been a while ! never thought id manage to get this out but here it is, n i hope u all enjoy. ive missed each n every one of u (sorta) (joking). anyways im planning to lean in on the more multifandom aspect of my account, so youll be seeing a few different fandoms scattered around. nevertheless, give it a read! mybe itll be ur thing :] ty anon for this request, much love <3

. . . OLIVER QUICK X FEM!READER ‘beautiful, violent, vulgar.’ @ajs-222 @michael-loves-chickens @surazim @soocore @fedyascoffin

inbox is always open to requests!

in whichꕀ

✦ ﹒oliver got what he wanted at a price.

tagsꕀ

✦ ﹒smut ﹐sub!oliver﹐dom!reader ﹐y/n catton﹐reader is a cougar ﹐oliver just cant get enough﹐reader is implied to be a shorty ﹐elspeth is a hoe﹐cunnilingus ﹐degradation﹐orgasm denial﹐marking kink ﹐lowkey blackmail ﹐farleighs there too!

ON THE HUNT FOR BETA READERS! MSG ME <3

He reminded you of a bunny, an animal.

Oliver Quick was reticent compared to the hearty, high conversation around the table that night. He was stuck out like a sore thumb in contrast to the Cattons, a family line of the prestigious. High on the grace of themselves and each other. Blissfully unaware of anyone or anything past what they offer to their inflated egos. And who were you, to make such unprincipled claims against family? Against blood?

Mother  – Elspeth, as she insists all the children call her – had always made snide, discreet digs at you. Shielded with a manipulative curl of the whoreish pinks of her lipstick. Underneath those sly comments is a white-hot grudge, directed toward her only daughter of blood and the Catton heiress everybody just seemed to have forgotten about.

‘You only think of yourself.’ She says. 

‘You only believe you’re superior because you abandoned the only people who’ll ever care for you.’

But they never cared for you. Not in the slightest.

You were the only descendant of the new-age family line that didn’t reside under the roof of Saltburn, causing waves in the circles of old money when you took your trust fund (and dignity) in a single palm and vanished to New Mexico. 

Nevertheless, to maintain access to the trust fund, you have been spending the entirety of every summer with your bloodline you inherently disowned. Money was the bottom line, the bottom line of every transaction you make with your parents. Which wasn’t a problem in the slightest, considering in their eyes, how much you were worth was the only thing cardinal about you.

You had stayed summers long enough to recognize the twisted, Catton-branded pattern your brother, Felix, had fallen into. In your eyes, he wasn’t fit to be claimed the bloodline heir. His blood is unsavory and debilitated. During the presidency of his birth, Elspeth had been participating in affairs with men who would’ve directly tainted both the reputation of the family name. As well as the bloodline.

The crimson redness of your dagger-shaped nails clinks along the side of the thin wineglass in your palm. Those morals of clean blood had been hammered into your head for decades, no matter how much your mother preached her modernized values.

Elspeth was still the same harlot she was all those years prior. 

The exact reason why instead of disturbance, thinly veiled amusement is masked between your hues as you witnessed Elspeth’s conversation with Oliver. The wrinkle of her eye crinkled furthermore with maliciousness, masked with honeyed words. Oliver reacts in a manner especially foreign to you. The apples of his cheeks pinken as Elspeth momentarily offers a palm toward the muscle of his arm, a singular touch as Oliver’s lips clamped together. Unable to respond for a beat of a moment. The cogs behind Oliver’s eyes turn and work soundlessly, having to be coorused by Elspeth herself to respond. 

Oliver was a stark difference from Felix’s past pets, brought to the household each summer for the entertainment of all. You observe him thoroughly, without shame. Nobody would question you anyway, especially the Catton children. The food chain of the bloodline stands unquestioned with Felix toppling all competition. But you were there first, and the force of that power still stands. 

All that you knew was that Oliver would be at the very bottom. A stark, white rabbit amongst the lions and wolves. The sheep's clothing they wear? Deteriorated. 

And you’d die for a chance to snap your jaws around his neck.

Even though you were barely a decade older compared to the other descendants of the Catton name, your tastes in sexuality had simmered. You have had your fair share of flings, basking in sensual attention like how your younger relatives are receiving nowadays. 

You’ve made the stark assumption that only a few strains of men and woman could cause that familiar warmth to unfurl within the depths of her core. But you were solely mistaken, as the cobalt hues of Oliver Quick met yours. They withheld the sweetest traces of caramel that caused something to stir. Something that caused the top of your bare thighs to squeeze together absentmindedly.

Oliver’s once-pinkened cheeks redden once again. He was the first to look away.

Run, bunny, run. The words bounce around your skull aimlessly, as if the density of your head were hollow. Your only set intention was the young man across the cherry-wood table, and how your lips curl upward at the thought. 

An unmistakable atmosphere of tension ridged itself between the two. Unmistakeable enough for Oliver to virtually scramble from his chair with a lowly hinged creak as soon as the black-tie dinner was to be dismissed, disappearing into the estate’s foyer without another word. In the process, silencing the remainder of the table as they escape the metaphorical weight of their chairs.

‘Someone had to go.’ Farleigh snarks, expression feigning boredom.

Elspeth offers a scoff in turn, though the weariness of her hues twinkle with stuffed amusement. ‘Don’t be silly, Farleigh.’

On the other hand, Felix’s brow wrinkles. You tune out the roar of masculine voices and a battle of ego as the two relatives bicker over the treatment of their guests. The hypocritical bounds and leaps of their voices were enough for your meal of fancy, fickle steak and fluffy, mashed potatoes to churn in your stomach.

As much as Felix preaches for his adoration of Oliver Quick, the entire household – even the thinness of the estate walls – knows that he’s only a temporary fix to his hunger for the disadvantaged. Viewing himself as a saint, veiling the sin that reverberated inside. Even Felix is willing to slip unsavory words about Oliver’s history before their friendship, especially his mother’s drug addiction. 

You shortly realized you were the only one who hadn’t uttered a single word about Oliver. Yet, at least.  You were the only person under the Catton's roof. You’ve maintained formality, and politeness in the scarce cases of passing the salt along the length of the table. But there was nothing polite in the way the relentless azure of his eyes bored into your own, obstructing every value and moral you’ve ever known.

They always said curiosity would eventually kill the cat. The claws of your nails threaten to dig into the hitch of your thigh, deep to the point of drawn blood.

You needed to know about him.

The soles of your crimson-sheathed heels click against the top of the blemishless floorings. The space between your shoulder blades bur without missing a beat, bound to be from the hawk-eyes of Elspeth Catton and her descendants that followed. Nevertheless, you push past the judgment and persevere forward toward the same foyer Oliver had vanished into.

The double-storied entrance room was as grand as the rest of the estate. Dark 

strains of oak are the main attraction, revealing the old-money origins of Saltburn. Jars of incense sticks decorate the occasional corner, the passionate white musk filling the atmosphere, tickling the back of your throat as you inhale.

The peace-brimming silence is sliced with a stressed rummaging from the door placed offside, shielded behind the wood-trimmed stairway. You prided yourself on minding your own business, but you couldn’t help but shuffle a tad closer. Enough to catch a glimpse of a singular bead of light, trickling out of the gap the door had made.

You cursed the thrum of your heels as you ventured closer. Hand strained against the top of the engraved door, sending strained words to the universe as you threaten to inch it wider and wider open.

All that secrecy disappeared from your body at the sight of Oliver Quick. It took you a few, prolonged seconds to recognize the young man amid the shadows. The sight of his scruffy, pale knees pressed against the ground. A crown of wavy, brunette locks shielded the focused curve of his eye as he rummaged through something. You couldn’t help it, fingers curling to widen the door a little more.

Creak.

Nothing could prepare you for what you witnessed before you. Even the panicked alarm that flares in the cobalt of Oliver’s hues goes ignored as he virtually snaps his head toward you. Amid his hands, various Catton heirlooms have gone untouched. Useless to some, priceless to others, and you guessed Oliver had made his mark on that.

‘What in the world are you doing with Aunty Start’s Apollo earrings?’

The words escaped you in a rush. Who knew that that your snow-white, innocent bunny had nefarious means within the Catton family? You exaggerate aunty’s last name, a slight teetering edge of glee trickling into you at the sight of grieving recognition that filled Oliver’s eyes.

 You stepped fully into the doorway.

‘I wonder what Farleigh would think about that.’

Oliver didn’t take the threat lightly, notable by the slight shake in his voice. “You wouldn’t.” He insisted. His hands scrambled, and the box propped between his fingers slipped and clattered across the oak of the storage room’s grounding.

The sole of your heel slams against the bottom of the door, widening it entirely. You entered the room with a click of the underside of your shoes, reverberating throughout the suddenly too-cold, too-hollow room you found yourself in. The only sense of illumination is the light from the foyer, trickling into the suddenly too-compact expanse.

You crouched down. Knees hitting the base of the flooring similarly to Oliver’s own, barely a foot or two away. You could hear the tameness of his breaths. The sharp, panicked gasps and swallows that only made your lips twist upward. The threat was there, looming over Oliver’s head, choking him by the throat.

‘Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. You decide, Ollie.’

‘How–’

The length of your fingers curled around the curve of his cheeks, pressed into the slight hollowness that would follow. Silencing him in turn. The splinters of illumination from the doorway behind them manage to offer an iridescent glow toward the plumpness of Oliver’s lips as you squeeze half of his alluring face. 

You hadn’t expected the first, proper interactions with Oliver Quick to wind up in his manner. But you have no intention to stop. The fashion in which his eyes bore into your own, gaze hawk-like as he stared down at you. Eyelashes fluttering. Pupils dilated.

A wave of awareness rolled through you at the sight. Those same splinters of warmth unfurled in the base of your abdomen.

‘What are you doing here, Oliver?’

Your digits eased around the sides of his face to allow him to speak. The cheeks you once grappled somewhat pinkened once more, face glowing under your undivided attention.

Oliver’s breaths grew slower and slower. As if your touch drunken him.

‘Felix invited me,’ his words were borderlining a whine, scrambling to explain himself. ‘For the summer.’

The base of your eyebrows drew together darkly. The amusement reverberating in your eyes dissolved into a slight annoyance. Your fingers traveled toward the curve of his chin, taking it into your possession in a rough matter it sends Oliver’s eyes to rounden in response. He was a sick, sick liar.

He corrected himself, in seconds. ‘For revenge.’

‘Revenge?’

Despite your concentration, you hadn’t realized the lack of distance placed between you and Oliver. The proximity is intoxicating. To the point in which you felt the soft exhale of his breath fan across the form of your painted lips. His scent disturbed the twist of white musk and dust in the air, catching you off guard.

You dipped your head further upward. A single breath away from his own. 

Oliver’s words scrambled from his parted lips, each syllable trembling. ‘Revenge.’ He confirmed with a singular breath.

That singular breath that was virtually snatched away from him as you captured those plump lips with your own. A warm hum of pleasure buzzes throughout your body, sensations setting your nerves on fire as your mouth brushes across his.

You retreated into yourself momentarily. Ears perked up as Oliver drew in a sharp intake of breath, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with a glimmer of euphoria. He inched forward. A small movement that confirmed the lust that sparks behind his hues. 

Honeyed heat circulated throughout your body as your lips locked with his own. Threads of that same heat were found within each movement of their mouths. Your cheeks burnt with stuffled anticipation. 

A soft, strangled noise reverberates toward the back of Oliver’s throat as your hands enter the proximity of his caramel-like locks. Soft to the touch, feathery. The pads of your fingers curled against his scalp. Curling. Tugging. Kisses growing with heat and passion, further and further until Oliver was a mess between your two palms.

Oliver virtually whined as you pulled away. The lipstick you had carefully applied the hour prior smeared across the edge of your oh-so-swollen lips.

The pad of your thumb ran across the form of your mouth, the crimson red dirting the length of her digit. She pulled a single finger along Oliver’s lips, smearing the remnants of the lipstick.

‘And what are you doing with my family’s heirlooms?’ You inquired, words soft with sensuality. Masking it with a casualty as you press onward. Thumb pressed immensely into the dimple of his cheek, ruddiness staining the ivory of his skin.

Oliver leaned into her touch. ‘I was just curious, that’s all.’

You knew that there was a nefarious nature in his intentions. You removed your hand entirely and raised to your feet on two heels. The sound of your soles meeting the oak floor echoes out, bouncing against the walls as you approach an ancient, traditional desk. Draped with a translucent cover. It was considered to be as old as the estate itself, yet you had no problem sitting all over it. 

Oliver watched in the process. Eyes rounded a remnant of a bashful doe. A spark of recognition appeared behind those eyes as you inclined a singular fingertip toward the space before you.

‘On your knees.’

You took a bound of pleasure watching as Oliver dropped before you. Those knees strained against the ground. Trickles of arousal unfolded in your abdomen, nerves set alight and anticipation fluid within you as he came eye-to-eye with the satin fabric that shielded your cunt. And it was hard to miss the stained wetness.

‘Y’know what? I don’t think Felix would be too happy if he–’

‘You can suck off my brother later, but you’re serving me now. Or everyone will know whatever betrayal you’re planning against them.’

Oliver choked back any other remaining protests. Witnessing as your undergarments rolled down your hips, down the curve of your thighs, sliding along your calves, and dangling from the top of your ankle. Exposing your womanhood entirely to him, your legs widened a little further. 

At the sight, Oliver leaned forward. Willing to comply. A foreign, almost animalistic thirst reflects in the light of his hues. Only halted by a singular palm. Your fingers propped atop the strewn locks atop his head, restraining him from reaching the wetness he yearned for. 

‘I’m gonna ask you this again, and this time you’re telling me the truth, bunny.’

Your words were slow. Diligently pronounced and purposeful with each syllable.

‘What are you doing with the heirlooms?’

‘I just need–’ His words escaped in fluent gasps. Your skin prickled as Oliver’s trembling breaths fanned your womanhood. ‘I just needed some dirt on Farleigh.’

‘Oh yeah?’

The length of a singular leg of yours gradually intertwined around Oliver’s shoulders. Your hand eased up as you nudged him closer toward you. He willfully allows you to guide him, nose practically touching the top of your mound. 

His words continued with a shuddered puff, eyes virtually glazed over.

‘Something that’ll disappoint your parents.’ Oliver dwells upon his reasonings further.

‘And Felix?’

He nods.

‘You dirty,  dirty dog.’

Those words only fuelled Oliver further. And before you could even consider knowingly degrading him once more, the searing heat of his tongue is pressed against the slickness of your folds. He works his mouth against your cunt, movements growing sloppier and sloppier as he basks in the sexual validation he receives. The length of your fingers find themselves in his hair once more, fluffed, brunette strands coddled around your fist as you squeeze your legs around him.

The pleasure that you receive from his mouth alone is indescribable. Honeyed, warm ecstasy maneuvers throughout you. That familiar space between your thighs aches, even as Oliver’s lips latch onto them. Merely fuelling the fire that runs hot underneath your skin, alighting your nerves on fire.

“Fuck…” You can feel him grin around you.

A finger shortly accompanies the consumption of his tongue. And Oliver’s fingers are undeniably long, pale fleshed worked down to the knuckle with the force of a few pumps. He adds another. Then another. Stealing a moan or two from the depths of your throat, forcing you to clamp your lips shut. If anyone walked in. Your cheeks burn at the thought.

You bucked your hips into his fingers as Oliver worked you open, curling into you without faltering. Plunging his digits into you, again and again until you were breathless. Calves curled around him, guiding him further and further toward your sensitivities. Welcoming his mouth back onto you once more.

Oliver’s lips latched longingly onto the little pearl lining your entrance. He murmurs sweet nothings into you, fingers easing their pace until you can only hear the subtle quickness of your heaving breaths. And his whispers. Whispers of how wet you are, and how much he longs to quench that thirst. Again and again. On his knees, basked in his most vulnerable state.

Just for you. Oliver both in time, curls his fingers and squeezes your bud. Unleashing a wave of fire that takes you by the throat, walls squeezing around the length as you come undone. Shockwaves virtually gripping you. Tremors guide you back from your high as both grunts and moans of approval escape you.

Oliver glows under the attention. He peers up at you, through the intensity of his thick lashes. Doe eyes blinking occasionally, innocently, as he pops those fingers into his mouth where he once tasted you. Suckling. Tongue flittering around the pad of his digits.

‘You’ve done that before, haven’t you?’ Your words were more of a statement than an assumption. The pulsing of your newfound arousal doesn’t show in the slightest, only glimmering behind the intensity of your eyes.  You weren’t done with your bunny, not yet anyway.

Oliver’s fingers escape his lips with a reverberating pop. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

You reach downward briefly. Taking the lace of your panties with a single hand, guiding the garment around the base of your heels. Abandoning them on the dust-soaked floor. Those same heels meet that same grounding.

‘I didn’t take you for a fuckboy, bunny.” You practically spit, taking pride in how his eyes wobble slightly at the force of your filthy, filthy words. A short snap fills the room as you indicate your hand towards the oak tiles. 

‘On the floor.’

Oliver doesn’t say anything less, finding his body sprawled out before you. Essentially submitting himself to you in the process, something that ignites that oh-so-familiar heat in the pit of your belly. You stand over him, relinquishing in how he stares up at you, willing for you to do anything to him.

‘Pants off.’ Your words are snappy and insistent. You almost feel like that spoiled little one you used to be as a child, one who would get anything you would desire. ‘You don’t need them.’

Oliver’s fingers work to untangle his belt, loosening the dark fabric of his pants.  The material rolls down his hips, his hardness is immensely visible through the thinness of his boxers. The bulge accompanying the arousal that burns throughout your entire body, abdomen unfurling with that oh-so-familiar heat. 

You drop down toward him, legs clamped down on either side of Oliver’s thighs. You are squeezing them somewhat. The curve of your palm cups the fabriced nature of his manhood, causing a soft moan to escape him. 

‘[Y/N]...’ The broadness of Oliver’s hands grapple the frame of your hips, the warmth of his fingers curling around you. He virtually buckles up into you, against your bareness. A motion that causes your lips to curl up into a lazy smirk. 

‘Repeat my name, bunny.’ The pad of your fingers tease the rim of his boxers.

Oliver’s breath shudders. ‘I’m begging, [Y/N].’

A gradual, mocking roll of your eyes overtakes you nevertheless as you tug the thick material down. They roll and crinkle along the bottom of Oliver’s thighs, allowing for him to spring out for full reveality. For you and you alone. A low whistle fills the emptiness of the room as you observe his girth. Oliver is virtually trembling under the intensity of your gaze as you curl a fist around the length of his shaft, taking delight in how he buckled into you.

‘Be patient now.’ The words escape you with a scoff as you feign annoyance.

Oliver quietens in your demand. Alas, as you position yourself above him, you can still hear the raspiness of his breaths and the pleasure you take in the stink of desperation high in the air. He buries himself into you with a singular thrust, merely forcing a soft groan at the initial discomfort at he fills you. Stretches you out. Your hips slap against his own as you buckle up and down across his length, Oliver mimicking your movements to a tee.

You arch into him, soft noises of pleasure escaping you as he manages to claw ecstasy from you with every singular thrust. Your inner walls clutched around him, causing Oliver to drop his head back, gasping your name out as if it were a prayer. As if he were on the verge of life and death.

‘[Y/N]?’

‘Yes?’

It’s odd how the two of you presented the conversation as if you weren’t rutting your entire life and soul into him. Onto him. Oliver continues to writhe around some more, arching himself into you, again and again. The whiteness of his cheeks is notably flushed with arousal.

‘I’m about to –’

You slow down your pace until you’re merely mounting him, the lack of movement causing a groan of sexual frustration to claw from Oliver’s throat. The side of your thighs squeezes around his hips for extra exaggeration as you proceed to speak, merely unphased, even as you are reaching your release.

‘Jesus, Ollie, don’t be so fuckin’ greedy.’

You scold through hitched breath and hushed moans. His girth is warm inside you, and something about that is so utterly pleasing.

‘You aren’t to come unless you’ve pleased me enough.’

The demand causes Oliver’s head to loll back with esteemed annoyance, but he doesn’t say anything. It merely prompts the width of his hands to press into your hips, beginning to rock himself into you. It steals a moan out of your lips, but the sight of his desperation is a sight of see indeed. You arch further into him as he ruts against the exact spot that causes you to see stars.

The length of your hand folds around the back of his neck. ‘Right there, bunny, oh, you fuckin’ beast!’

Closer now. Closer now.

‘Say my name, [Y/N].’ Oliver heaves with strained breath, holding back on his orgasm has done numbers on him.

You wack him across the back of the head.

‘That’s my line, dickhead.’

Alas, the words barely escape your lips as the boiling and bubbling dam within you snaps and crashes. You dissolved into nothing but pure pleasure. Nevertheless, whatever you had said, Oliver’s name played on your lips in something that bordered screams. Tremors of ecstasy fill you as Oliver continues to pound into you, guiding you throughout your orgasm in your most vulnerable moment.

Aftershocks spark within you as you go limp, pulling yourself together with heaved breath and glazed eyes.

‘Have I pleased you enough, then?’

Oliver’s voice is hoarse, tearing you out of your orgasm-fuelled trance.

‘It’ll do, bunny.’

But before, Oliver can even consider his release. You rise from your previous position, his girth sliding out of you with ease, glistening with your slick. You tug the fabric of panties around your hips and back in place, glancing in a dust-covered mirror as you adjust your appearance. To make it seem as if you haven’t spent the past half hour having the life sucked out of you.

‘[Y/N] –’

Oliver’s protests rise in the air, falling upon deaf ears as you proceed to exit the room itself. The bottom of your heels thud against the wood-slicked tiles as you reenter the dining room, hope in hand. Your wordless wishes are fulfilled at once at the sight of Farleigh, who is window-watching, wine in hand.

‘Farleigh, thank God, I found you.’

Farleigh turns his head, bringing his glass to his lips.

‘What now?’ He’s waving away your presence entirely, it is clear.

As much as you despise this half of the family, you maintain a clear mind.

‘Oliver was rummaging through your mother’s heirlooms. I suggest you go, now. Heed my warning or not, I don’t care.’

A look of suspicion flashes across Farleigh’s face. His lips part momentarily in question before he thinks otherwise. Smart boy. Setting his wine down and immediately dashing past you. A yell or two sounds out a moment later, and your painted lips quirk upwards in pleasure.

You knew what Oliver was up to. It was clear from the first day you laid eyes upon the household’s guest. But no. It wasn’t up to Oliver to wipe out the Cattons from existence, even though he’d be doing the filthy work for you. It was admirable yes.

But it was your job. A job you strived to complete.

You slip your hand into the slight pocket in the fabric of your dress. Pulling out a small capsule. Your eyes narrow down on the glass of wine, vacant on the table. 

Starting with Farleigh. 

WORD COUNT: 4K MASTERLIST REQ ME!

[sakasakiii]

Hi!

I love your work!! Your art is very pretty. Do you have a specific idea of how old everyone is ? Do you lean more towards canon or do you have your own dates in mind ? If don’t wanna a answer it’s ok!

Hope u have a nice day

(Remember to drink water!)

hiiii nonnie!!! thank you for checking in, and im happy u like the stuff i put out!! when it comes to ages, it's difficult to answer sometimes bc of the way professor tolkien's timeline is-- it makes gauging one singular place where most of the cast can be compared something that makes my tired brain go 😵🤧🤕 but i love the prompt youve given! and thus heres my attempt at it

with most of my tolkien stuff, i always try to stick to canon wherever possible emphasis is on try lmao and the topic of ages is one such place. i do make exceptions to the Professor's canon sometimes for a few reasons: 1) i like some of the scrapped ideas in his drafts, or 2) i just prefer other options. with ages, i think the only charas with canon-established ages i deviated from are fingolfin, finrod, turgon, and aredhel. i try to keep cases like these minimal tho, so i hope it doesn't bother anyone too much... 👉👈

anyways i figured just dropping a list of numbers would be kinda boring to look at so heres an illustrated guide to what the ~rough~ ages of the finweans are in my head whenever i write or draw. Y.T. 1495 (the year Finwe dies) is the controlled medium ive used to enable a fair comparison of the Finweans

note: "born Y.T. xxx" means this is the canon date of birth listed on Tolkien Gateway. "est. born [xxx]" means this is a noncanon estimate:

the First Age gets a lot more muddled from there due to the hullaballoo of everything going on, so ill only be including the doriathrim and a few other denizens of nargothrond:

it's mostly the older elves that are more undefined/vague with their ages (i.o.w. others like elwing, earendil, the peredhil twins, and most Men all have set dates of birth), so they're all i'll be doing for now. but it's that vagueness which makes hcing all the more enjoyable, isn't it! plus since we’re on this subject, under the cut are just a few headcanons and musings ive had that i wanted to put somewhere 😙

Finarfin and Earwen were born within months of each other! Finwe and Olwe made a Really Big Deal out of when they found out their wives were pregnant at the same time. As a result, the two were often sent on many playdates with each other to “bolster healthy relations” between the Noldor and the Teleri. It wasn’t an arranged marriage situation, but I like to think they were goofy for each other from the start… Resulting in the two eventually getting married as soon as they came of age, the fastest out of all of Finwe’s kids to do so. 

The reason the Ambarussa are significantly younger than the other Finweans (especially the Feanorians-- there’s a 100 Valian year gap between them and Curufin alone!) is because I imagine they were accidental babies that even Feanor didn’t expect to conceive. too bad morgoth said "its morgin time!" and started Messing Things Up shortly afterwards.....

Anaire was Lalwen's good friend long before she married Fingolfin; they met through Lalwen who wingmanned Fingolfin the whole time. i like think Anaire'd be the best out of all the wives at keeping good, healthy bonds with all the women of her family :DD

luthien's potential 姐姐/big sis dynamic with all the younger doriathrim elves is something i daydream about a lot 😌 but sometimes the fact that she's older than finarfin keeps me up at night

this has been really fun, so thanks again for asking-- annnd yessir, i am chugging water as i write this so you better be doing the same ❤️ have a great start to your week!

[supernovae-never-burn-alone]

☆ SUPERNOVAE NEVER BURN ALONE

"Why do you fight like there's nobody else in the crossfire?"

I. INTRO (you are here!)

II. CHARACTERS

III. PLOT

IV. FAQ

V. AUs

VI. LINKS

VII. A message from The Thing

Hello and welcome to the official blog for Supernovae Never Burn Alone, one of many OC projects created by yours truly, @human-souls-buy-dopamine!

This will serve as mainly a place to share the lore a bit more coherently, but asks are always welcome for both the author and characters! Expect to see LOTS of art, writing, and the occasional gl2 project— Maybe even some official music as we get into composing! We kind of rambled a lot here, so to make things easier, information that is Very Super Important™️ is gonna be put into bold, purple text.

For the sake of keeping this shorter on your dash than the colors of the sky (/exag.. a little), the rest of the info is below the cut!

In the world(s) of SNBA, there are two types of beings: mortals and gods, AKA Caeliti, or Caelum in singular. 'Mortal' encompasses any non-Caelum, whether human, demon, angel, or any of the other species created by the Caeliti.

That said, our main cast consists of the Caeliti, two humans, an angel, and a demon! Who knows, though, you might see some side characters pop up...

Anyways, for the sake of keeping this a reasonable length, this post will have the most basic information on the characters. More detailed info will come with lore posts!

FAIR NOTE: The Caeliti are all, with the exception of Luvian (who's a bit over a couple centuries), at least a couple millenia old in terms of how long they've existed. HOWEVER. They do something called 'blurring,' where in order to keep from going kind of insane with the day-to-day of being immortal, years will go by without them being fully conscious for it. This results in each having a different "moral" age than the time they've existed, as only time spent not blurred counts towards their experience. The exact "moral ages" haven't been set in stone for most besides Luvian, who's around 21-22 in that scale. As such, none but Luvian have an official age listed yet.

With that out of the way, here's our main cast:

Kard Freeman, The Youthful Justice — 21, it/its — mortal (magic-wielding human) ;; Kard is kinda like the protagonist of SNBA. It helps the Caeliti to realize that Poine isn't invincible, and to rally together against them and Theron. Aven and Taylor are its unofficial adoptive parents, and it calls them Dad (Taylor) and Pa/Pop/Pops (Aven). It,,, has a LOT of trauma. A lot. It's also quite close with Luvian, who it begins to date, and Aentropus, who it becomes a dynamic duo of sorts with.

Aven Defiocus, The Truth Speaker — 29, he/him & shx/hxr — mortal (fallen angel) ;; Aven was originally part of the order in Heaven known as the Higher Mortals, a group of angels tasked with 'keeping Hell in check'. Shx was meant to see what some commotion had been about, only to find that someone had massacred a town in Hell. After meeting Taylor, he realized that he'd been fed propaganda about Hell and its citizens, and promised them that he'd help them find who massacred the place. Shx was subsequently kicked out of Heaven for voicing hxr realization. Aven also starts to date Taylor later on.

Taylor Flameheart, The Exiled Collective — 29, they/them — mortal (lust demon) ;; Taylor is native to Hell, and like many demons, has been subject to the cruelty of the Higher Mortals. They were banished from their hometown after being framed, and when they returned, found only corpses... and Aven. After he de-escalated the fight and explained that he wasn't the one who'd done it, the duo came to an agreement to work together to find out who had. In their travels, they found Kard, unofficially adopting it. A side note I can't figure out how to fit in, also: Taylor is part of a system.

Sirius Novum, The Burning Star — 28, they/them — mortal (non-magic human) ;; Sirius is quite secretive about their past and current activities. At some point, they met Aven, becoming acquaintances-slash-allies... kind of. There's a big plot point involving them that we'd like to reveal in a lore post, so you'll get that soon. They also 'mentor' Kard for a while, teaching it to fight properly— their methods are. not quite the best.

Aentropus, The Spiraling Chaos — it/its — Caelum ;; Aentropus is the god of chaos/entropy, mischief, and sanity (or lack thereof). It is the first/oldest and most powerful Caelum, however this potential can't quite be reached fully without consequences. It was alone, with nothing and no one, for quite some time before .. time was even a thing. The complete nothingness drove it to the breaking point, and it lost a part of its mind/sanity in a breakdown. Soon after, other Caeliti formed. Due to several events in the past (most not its fault, what is its fault it tries to atone for), Aentropus ... has a hard time liking itself.

Theron, The God Hunter — he/him — Caelum ;; Theron is the god of violence/bloodshed and trauma. He is, to put it lightly, a bitch. When Aentropus was banished to the Light Void to cool down, he overtook Hell, one of its planets. He quickly got bored, and when it returned, was the first to show it kindness, which was probably the most morally correct thing he's ever achieved in his life /hj... Later, he "got curious," and. Murdered and cannibalized Flaerik. He was banished to the Dark Void, but was able to escape via a loophole that hasn't quite been established yet. He's the primary antagonist, and what's essentially a war is started in the attempt to bring him down for good.

Poine, The Silver Justice — they/them — Caelum ;; a bitch, but not in the funny villain way, they're just fucking insufferable. Poine took it upon themself as the deity of justice to be the unofficial-official "leader" of the Caeliti, ramping their efforts up a LOT after Flaerik's death. They could really be overthrown at any time, however they make very good use of manipulation, fear mongering, and. straight up torture. to keep their fellows in check. They cannot even fathom that they could ever be wrong, convinced that their fellows just don't like harsh truths. (No, Poine, your fellows just don't like TORTURE.)

Unipathos, The All Loving — she/her — Caelum ;; Unipathos is the goddess of love and kindness. Although she is the goddess of all love, not just romantic love, her preferred color scheme being pink, red, and white tends to give many mortals the wrong impression. Unipathos is the best at healing out of her fellows, and doesn't mind being the 'designated healer'. Don't underestimate her combat abilities, though— She's just as powerful as many of her fellows. She doesn't tend to be outspoken very often, and as such hasn't given Poine many excuses to torture her. Nevertheless, it's no secret what they do, and she isn't oblivious.

Staegnos, The Still Waters — She/her — Caelum ;; Staegnos is the goddess of water, peace/calmness, and neutrality. She used to be quite vocal against Poine— However, after they caught her in a container while she was shape-shifting and stranded her in an ocean for several months, she began to lean heavily into a stance on neutrality. She opts to "not pick sides" so as to "not stir the waters," in her own words. Her refusal to help when she often can results in most of her fellows disliking her, although this begins to fade as she learns to face her fears.

Vibrum, The Freeing Wind — thxy/thxm & xt/xts — Caelum ;; Vibrum is the god of air/wind, liberation, and freedom. Admittedly, xt doesn't do much for the plot at the moment, but for worldbuilding purposes, xt's needed. Thxy might get some dedicated lore soon, thxy really need it...

Saerol, The Shining Light — he/him & sol/sols — Caelum ;; Saerol is the god of light, the sun, truth, and shares control of perception of reality with Luvian. Just to clear it up from the get-go, he and Luvian are NOT brothers/siblings, despite that being the standard for many sun/moon duos. Their existences are quite intertwined, but they are not siblings. Moving on, Saerol acts as Poine's right hand for quite a while, although not committing nearly as many heinous acts as they have. Sol really just wants the best for sols fellows, and fell for Poine's manipulation that their method was the best— That's not to say he had no responsibility for his actions, though. Later on, when sol becomes disillusioned with them, Saerol ends up having to find a balance between healthy accountability and needless self-loathing. He and Luvian's friendship/connection starts to mend as time goes on.

Luvian, The Enveloping Dark — 22, he/him & lun/luns — Caelum ;; Luvian is the god of darkness, the moon, secrets, and shares control of perception of reality with Saerol. He is the youngest of the gods, both in the time he's existed and the time spent not blurred. Lun is also quite outspoken, which often results in Poine torturing lun. When Nelphite began to start coping healthily, he ended up becoming a parent-figure to Luvian, and now the duo would readily die for eachother if need be. Saerol and Luvian had a good friendship at first, but as things became more strained and sol sided with Poine more often, Luvian quickly grew to resent sol. Lun met Kard before it met its parents, but only briefly— More on that later.

Nelphite, The Great Wealth — he/him — Caelum ;; Nelphite is the god of wealth, politics, and money/currency. Ironically, he detests politics and greedy people, and would much rather not be the god of any of that. Nelphite and Flaerik were married before his death, and Nelphite went on a spiral afterwards. He turned to alcoholism in his grief, ultimately making a failed attempt on his life— After this, most of his fellows and he decided it would be best to wipe his memory of the event for the time being, so that he could try to cope better. However, Poine decided that they knew best, instead erasing ALL of his memories of Flaerik. He regains them at some point during the plot, but for a long time he is unaware. Still, the lack of memories helped in some ways, and he was able to cope healthily, abandoning his drinking problems.

Arturo, The Winged Karma — he/him — Caelum ;; Poine and Arturo are, in a way, two sides of the same coin. Where Poine is justice, Arturo is karma. All the same, their existences are quite intertwined. Poine, in something akin to jealousy, determined that Arturo was a threat to their position— "There could only be one," or something like that. Poine forced Arturo's being into the same shell that theirs was in, keeping him locked away in a place dubbed 'limbo'. This was all done quite fast from the time both started to exist, so nobody really knew Arturo existed, or was quickly gaslit into believing he never did. Poine basically uses Arturo as a punching bag for three millenia, but when Kard begins to overtake Poine as the being of justice, he's able to slip out more, ultimately culminating in Poine's banishment to limbo and Arturo retaking the shell for himself.

Flaerik, The Hopeful Flame — he/him — Caelum ;; Flaerik was the god of hope, passion, and heat/fire. Theron killing him wasn't personal so much as the bastard just saw Flaerik as the most convenient for target practice... Flaerik's ghost stuck around, in and out of being. He knew he had to rest to regain some kind of power, and so was dormant for quite some time. When Kard came around, however, he saw its potential. Watching it some times, resting others, Flaerik ultimately saved up enough power to appear to it for short times in the weeks leading up to the final confrontation with Theron. Over a century of being dead had turned him bitter, however, and Kard was pushed to practically the limit to get stronger. During the final battle, he helped keep it on its feet, and when Kard was having a 1v1 with Theron, Flaerik rallied the souls of other past victims to boost it. Even after the battle, he lingers for a while, not sure if he's ready to let go.

Fun facts and backstory reveals are soon to come, along with profiles! All will be revealed with time.

It always is, isn't it?

So, uh, little editor's note here. I WAS gonna explain the plot of the base timeline, but I realized that it would just be a big ramble of information to absorb, which is useful, but! we want people to See the stuff happen! We want it to be more than just words that get translated into art or music or stories or whatever. So. You'll get bits and pieces as we try to explain larger chunks while ALSO making it fun!!

Stay tuned!

• What is this gonna be? A webcomic? An ask blog? A novel???

▪︎ Well, we're hoping that we'll get plenty of asks eventually, but that'll be a while. As of now, SNBA is more of an open setting than having one canon timeline— Ultimately, we hope to have a 'base' for canon, if you will, that can be flexible and leave room for lots of headcanons, AUs, fanfics, what have you!

• How do I keep up with all the lore posts? What do I need to know now?

▪︎ There'll be several types, across several different formats— To keep things organized, there will be a post linked above the cut that keeps everything nice and tidy! Also, a couple words/alternate meanings to keep in mind:

Caelum = god/deity/goddess.. whatever

Caeliti = multiple of the above ⬆️

Cension = where the Caeliti live

Mortal = anyone that isn't a Caelum, whether theyre human or otherwise

Magic = ...... there's a lot of unused worldbuilding potential here, trust me, we'll work on it. It's honestly a plot device at the moment /hj

Heaven = Not an afterlife. It's a planet created by Aentropus. Angels are a mortal species.

Hell = Again, a planet created by Aentropus. Demons are also a mortal species.

• Is there an expected completion date? What indicates that SNBA is 'complete,' anyway?

▪︎ There's no goal for when SNBA is 'complete'. The closest it will ever come to being 'finished' is having a base/'canon' timeline of events, but keep in mind that canon isn't meant to be restrictive! Since a vast majority of the characters are (semi-)immortal, SNBA never really ends— Not to mention that there will always be alternate timelines, "What if"s, and all sorts of variations to explore.

• What's with the red text??

▪︎ Sometimes, to add a little bit of an ✨️interactive✨️ quality to some posts, we might add in text "written" by a character— It's up to everyone else to figure out who wrote what, but color and shape associations will become clear with time.

Not every AU has a name, but wow, there sure are a lot! Haha.... help. /j

Don't feel pressured to know all of these, really I'm just putting them here so we don't have to explain everything later... I'm not even sure how relevant they'll end up being. You can genuinely just scroll past this, its not gonna affect canon SNBA lore too much.

Better Days Ahead — An AU where Theron conveniently realizes that he's a Horrible Fucking Person due to an event occurring soon after Kard comes to Cension. Does he get redeemed? Maybe! Who knows! He sure thinks he won't!

The Antagonist AUs — A set of AUs answering the question, "What if [X] were the antagonist/villain instead of Theron?". Currently, Villain!Aentropus (AKA Entropy), Villain!Kard (aka Ace Freeman), and Villain!Staegnos (aka Tsunami) have been fleshed out. Also worth noting is that in Ace's AU, Theron is called Tempest. In other antagonist AUs where Theron never was one to begin with, he is known as Octavian.

Ace of Spades — A divergent timeline of the Villain!Kard AU in which Ace, instead of aiming to overtake Tempest in power, just Really Fucking Hates Him, but unfortunately has nowhere else to go! (Or does it?)

All-Consuming Entropy — just a vague idea right now, but essentially, it takes Aentropus' general instability and cranks it up a LOT. and I mean a LOOOT. Like, "now all the Caeliti are trapped within its consciousness and it's essentially the universe itself" a lot.

Eternal Flames (aka the time loop AU) — There are four Caeliti who didn't make the cut to stay in canon, and two of those, Eropa and Primos, find a place in this one! The two Caeliti of time (past and present) fight for control over the future and, in the process, manage to accidentally trap Aentropus and Nelphite into a loop, repeating the days leading up to Flaerik's death over and over again... There may not be time to fix it if Aentropus' sanity depletes before the duo can settle their differences.

Lore masterpost (posted after this)

YouTube Channel (will have more OC stuff on it once we get more active here, but there's definitely stuff that'll be posted since we've made a buuunch of stuff thus far)

So, you've made it this far.

Wow. You must be interested in seeing us have at it, huh?

No, no, there's no judgment here! Really, I'm much the same— and they kicked me out for it, can you believe that?

Come on, I was just hungry... I wanted to try something new! I mean, sure, it'd suck to lose my husband if I had one, I guess. But really, he can get over it.

It's all a game! They all love it, I know they do. The screaming and yelling and cursing and crying? That's my reward. "You're a monster!" this, "I can't wait to kill you!" that, they're all such good actors.

Yes, it's all a game. It's a game that I intend to win.

And I will. Oh, I will, and I know I will! Would you like to know how I know?

It's oh, so simple.

My fellows just can't keep their problems to themselves!

Isn't that hilarious? So high and mighty, and yet they never can keep their creations from getting involved... Even mine have!

Oh, what fun— I'm nearly shaking in anticipation!

But, I digress.. I'm boring you, aren't I? That's okay. There's so much more to come. What's that advice again, 'show, don't tell'?

You'll have a show, alright. A wonderful, bloody, tragic show.

I'll be waiting.

[ukfrislandembassy]

Preliminary observations on Arapaho pitch-accent

So in my final-year madness I've decided to attempt to work out what's going on with the development Arapaho's pitch-accent system, because nobody quite seems to have a clue. Ives Goddard noted back in the seventies that a glottal stop (from whatever source) in a cluster left a long vowel with a falling pitch but beyond that nobody seems to have tried to do more so far. So, based on the two most recent sources that are best on accent marking (Cowell & Moss's 2008 grammar and Ives Goddard's paper on historical morphology from 2015) and trying to triangulate between them (because there's sometimes inconsistencies).

Here's some things that stand out to me that seem like routes forward (I'm thinking on writing paper on this soon). I'll mostly be talking about nouns for now as verbs doubtless have more complex behaviour due to being both longer and also frequently being

Outside of the aforementioned falling tone, an accent generally seems to be located on either the Proto-Algonquian penult or antepenult; *ameθkwa → hébes 'beaver', *mo:sočyi → biihí3 'dung'

The factors determining accent placement are as yet unclear to me, but syllable weight seems to be involved. I'm trying to work out which of the two is the 'default' position, currently I'm leaning towards the penult.

This is corroborated by the addition of any inflectional suffix (plural, obviative, locative etc.) results in rightward shifts in some nouns, e.g. *neska:či → nó‘oo3 'my foot' vs. *neska:tari → no‘óótoh 'my feet'.

When vowels are contracted, an accent on the first vowel results in a falling accent, e.g. *netehkwema → netéi 'my louse', *werake:θkwi → hinóoox 'tree bark'. The lack of a corresponding rising accent implies that in vowel contraction an accent on the second vowel spread leftwards. *šeka:kwa → xóó 'skunk' seems to be an example of this?

Another key seems to be a set of nouns which Cowell & Moss note which have a long vowel with a high tone when unsuffixed that shifts to a fall tone with a suffix with the suffix taking an accent; thus *wasyeʔθwani → nokúúh 'nest' vs. *wasyeʔθwanari → nokúuhó‘ 'nests'. Cowell and Moss seem to think that the latter is an innovative dissimilation from the former, but the proto-form implies the opposite, as we would expect a falling accent from the lost glottal stop. This implies that the accent on the suffix of the plural was original and shifted leftward when that syllable was deleted in the plural.

This implies that for instance *aθemwa → hé3 'dog' could have had accent on the penult that was shifted onto the antepenult in the singular (and then extended through the paradigm), which might suggest that at least for nouns with consistently light syllables the accent might have fallen on the penult.

Secondary accents seem to have been possible in preceding syllables of the word, hence e.g. *erenyiwaki → hinénnó‘ 'men', where in addition to an accent on the penultimate, i.e. the suffix, there is also an accent on the post-initial, with vowel syncope putting the accents together. *wa:poswaki → nóokhó‘ 'hares' shows an accentual dissimilation on the long vowel as a result.

I'll note also an issue with even trying to do this word, which is the issues with differing sources on this one. For instance, Goddard gives 'my hand' as néecet with a low tone on the second syllable, while Cowell & Moss give néecét with a high tone instead. In this case I think Cowell & Moss is probably right here, as Goddard does note that a second high tone in this position would be downstepped anyway and so could have been missed by Goddard. (also half of the sources don't even write down the accent which doesn't help).

[moonrkgk]

.art program breakdown

I kind of wanted to make a list for myself, but i also wanted to make it available for others to view if they wanted a pro and con list of different art programs! I'll start my lists with pro's and follow with con's. I will be focusing on desktop programs.

Paint Tool Sai v1/v2 :

A program i started off with, very simple to use. Between v1 and v2 there are minimal changes so i will be putting them together.

PRO

Brush engine is very 'plush'. This may be dependent on your tablet settings, but i have found through Sai that you dont need a lot of pressure to get a good result.

Great starter program. Is by no means overwhelming, and everything is clearly labelled. (Or with a small amount of exploring you will be able to find the use of each button/function.)

Many layer modes, a few are exclusive to Sai. (shade/shine specifically.)

Save states (Sai V2)

Perpetual License.

CON

Program is made by a singular person, so updates are few and far between.

No dark UI.

You cannot import ABR's.

Desktop only.

Given that the program is fairly minimal anyway, i feel like deducting 'points' from it for not having things like importing assets would be a bad idea. So for what its advertised as, id say its a solid 3 out of 5.

---

Clip Studio Paint :

I have used this program for a few years, and have used on iOS and Windows.

PRO

You can import ABR's

3D models and other importable objects.

In app brush/object/material marketplace.

In app storage for art files.

'Teams' ( You are able to save your works and share them with another CSP user for coop on things like webtoons/comics or other projects.)

QA community, learn and teach, and showcase available in app.

Many layer modes, gradient maps, rulers, and materials.

Animation timelines. (CSP PRO only allows for 24 frames per animation. If you need/want more allowance you will have to upgrade to EX.)

Webtoon / comic creating features.

Mobile app companion.

Adjustable UI shades. (light/medium/dark)

Save states.

Timelapses.

CON

Limited perpetual license.*

Mobile version does not have a perpetual license and is monthly p2u.

Brush engine is very rigid.

SUT are not able to be used anywhere else but CSP.

*While i cant think of many cons, as of August 2022 and their decision to 'remove' perpetual licenses im docking them quite a few 'points'. A TLDR version would be while they do still offer perpetual licenses for version 2.0 onward, you will no longer get updates unless you pay for an update pass yearly fee ALONG WITH your perpetual license cost. You can read the entire article here. While the program is decent and widely used, their recent rug pull left a bad taste in the mouths of many so i will give it a 3of 5 for that reason. Use at your own risk.

Krita :

PRO

Free.

Open source.

Save states.

Limited ABR importation.*

Animation timelines.

*While you can import ABR's, it only imports the brush tip. You have to recreate the brush from there and this can be tedious.

CON

'Clunky' UI

No help desk.

Desktop only.

Performance and lag issues regularly.

I dont think ive ever had a particularly good experience using Krita. One of the main reasons i gave it up back in the day was solely because i was having so many performance issues and it was crashing regularly. These may no longer be issues, but i feel its important to add that it was a good enough reason that many people stopped using it because of. I give a 2 of 5.

Open Canvas / Medibang / FireAlpaca :

These three will get honourable mentions. While open canvas is not free, medibang and firealpaca are. Their UI is pretty much the same, as well as their features.

The most i would be able to say about these three is they are super minimal and basic. (However, if you do decide to stick with any i know people like Jax Sheridan 'Clockbirds' was able to create masterpieces with medibang. They seem to have since moved to photoshop as of ~4yr ago.)

2 of 5!

Photoshop:

PRO

ABR that are widely used and easily accessible.

Many layer modes.

Ruler and grid tools.

In app marketplace.

Cloud storage.

Mobile app.

Save states.

Accessible help desk / forum support.

CON

Monthly subscription.

Open GL issues.

Sporadic performance issues.

While i know a ton of people dislike PS CC because theyve had the market cornered for so long, i feel like the program itself is one of the best. You can find addons for thins like animation timelines, different UI settings, etc. (While not always free as they are user made.) The monthly cost is $9.99 USD (this may change based on your own currency or country.) which is fairly low. (I pay more for netflix per month.) They have been using this subscription model since 2012 when they introduced CC. Personally, the cost of using the program pays itself, but i understand the issues people have with this.

4 of 5.

Paintstorm Studio :

PRO

Save states.

Timelapses.

ABR importing.

Many brush layers, grids, rulers.

Active forum community and responsive help desk.

Extremely customizable brushes.

Customizable UI. (colours AND dark/light.)

OPEN GL.

CON

Issues with integrated graphics.

Occassional performance issues.

Perpetual license cost.

While paintstorm is not free, its $20 price tag is incredibly justifiable for what you get. They are fairly transparent with their plans, issues, and updates for the program (even with things like including animation tools or fixes.). I personally had some performance issues with the program and had to email their support and was replied to PROMPTLY with all the willingness to help.

The closest comparison i can make is that paintstorm is a mix of sai and CSP. Ive considered dropping CSP for this program entirely. (I just need a bit more time to get more comfortable.)

3 of 5.

OTHER HONOURABLE MENTIONS :

While these programs are not getting their own column, if you want to expand and try them out i wish you luck! (I may have either not used it long enough to form a solid enough yay or nay opinion, or i just dont particularly care for it either way anyway.)

GIMP

Rebelle

Corel Painter

Sketchbook

Procreate (iOS only)

ArtRage

I may at some point append this list as I grow, but for now i just really wanted to share what ive learned over the years with others. These are generally my own personal opinions, so youre free to take them with a grain of salt! But hopefully it helps someone out :)

[studentofetherium]

quarter for your thoughts

if a penny is worth one thought, then 25 thoughts...

just finished watching Shinjuku Boys, and i think it was a really interesting film. i think it's cool to see a film focusing on trans men, when a lot of historic queer films tend to focus on trans women, and i also always love films that focus on a specific niche subculture, in this case, trans men working at a host club

i've been getting back into regularly watching film this year, and it's been so fun. i really, really love film, and particularly over the last few weeks, ive been trying to explore films from countries i don't usually watch films from. Korea and China are the two ive been thinking about, but also Australia, and once i get through all that ive set aside for that, i keep this up, tho i'll decide where next later

purple is a really nice color, y'know?

my music taste last year was the most singular and consistent it's been since 2018, since i was listening to a lot of postrock and emo, particularly The World is a Beautiful Place & I Am No Longer Afraid to Die, but this year i haven't really been stuck on any one genre or artist all that much, except maybe Owl City

i miss having air conditioning, but having an excuse to spend more time outside (where it's generally cooler than inside) has been nice

i need to read more. I have the Prose Edda and Understanding Media sitting on my desk, plus Ougimonogatari and Ikusamonogatari on my phone, and i wanna finish those before starting anything new

Svefn-g-englar is one of the most gorgeous songs i have ever heard

i keep thinking that i want to get back into keeping up with chika idol music, but there's just so much, and i haven't really followed it for a few years now, and i'm not listening to much current music these days anyway, so i keep putting it off

despite all the posts i'm making about Koyodachi, my takeaway from Ikusamonogatari is that Koyomi and Hitagi are truly perfect for each other. the whole relationship is so sweet, and it's great to see them have come so far together. the "18 years" motif is a little heavy-handed, but i think it's a great throwback to the origin of the series

i'm still not over how surreal it is to see covid brought up directly in a Monogatari novel, considering they all take place in the same general timeframe and ive been following these books since before the pandemic

i should reread Juuni Taisen. it's been a while

i'm coming to realize that i much prefer to write stories for my ocs than to come up with details to include in a planning document. it's just easier for me to create a character when i'm putting words in their mouth and thrusting them into situations, because that way i can get an idea of how i feel about them as a character. i'm also more of a storyteller than a write (meaningless distinction), so i naturally find it easier to tell stories

ive been pushing myself to watch more films this year, but ive also been trying to push myself to read more, and i'm hoping to finish some of the stuff that's been sitting on my bookshelf for years, unread

similarly, and back to movies, there's a lot of stuff ive bought and local video stores that i haven't watched, because i do most of my watching on the computer, and i really should start watching that stuff more

Caligula Effect is a fascinating game and i cannot wait until it's cool enough in my room that i can play more, because it sounds like it only gets better from here

as i keep practicing Japanese, every now and then i think that i should try to read something in Japanese, but it always goes poorly and puts me off from trying it again... but it's been a while and i'm thinking that i should maybe try it again. something simple, but still, something

having self-confidence is so cool. i play up my pride a bit because i think it's funny, but i genuinely think it's really important to take pride in oneself and what one does because that's a really easy step towards a better mental health. thinking of myself not only as a good writer, but a great one has done wonders for me

i keep a sticky note on the wall behind my computer monitor with all the numpad codes for special characters that i use most often. my most used ones are —, Æ, and á

i haven't stopped thinking about the quote "can you really say a song is your favorite if you've only heard it once". it hasn't even been a year, but that has definitely led me to rethink the way i look at art, and in particular value returning to things i love more highly. my most recent Monogatari rewatch in particular has been an effect of that

having a girlfriend is so cool

i wish TJPW shows weren't all 3-4 hours long, because that makes it a slog to catch up

hey nuriel we don't talk much but you're a cool friend

i really should just commit to learning to draw. actually looking up tutorials, actually practicing with regularity, etc. all my efforts in the past have been half-hearted, but i really should commit myself to it one of these days

i'm so excited to rewatch Adolescence of Utena in a couple days, even more than i'm excited to rewatch the ending of the tv show

i'm still trying to find a new hyperfixation! nothing has really landed, but i was getting into a couple new things (Ruina and Caligula) plus was about to commit to finishing some other stuff, but then the ac broke and that's totally thrown me off any sort of schedule, so i have to wait for that to be fixed before i can really get back into any of it

there we go :) 25 thoughts

[jangofctts]

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?  

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish​ FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA 

It's curious. 

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is. 

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.  

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.        

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos. 

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.     

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought  it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.     

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.     

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

 And yes, you tried to slip by for this one. 

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.    

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye. 

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?" 

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but— 

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut. 

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit." 

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?" 

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information. 

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.” 

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.” 

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.” 

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting. 

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.” 

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height. 

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces. 

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed." 

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder. 

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well. 

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.  

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.  

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me." 

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts. 

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this? 

This is too good. 

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.  

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions." 

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…  

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.  

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that." 

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.  

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride. 

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest. 

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.   

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you." 

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.” 

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left. 

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.  

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet. 

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.  

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss. 

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this. 

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.   

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything. 

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.     

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin. 

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.      

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water. 

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this? 

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.   

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.  

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—” 

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name. 

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.” 

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it. 

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.” 

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones. 

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate. 

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part. 

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.   

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.” 

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.” 

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away. 

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit. 

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly— 

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands. 

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here. 

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.” 

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him. 

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.” 

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages. 

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin. 

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you. 

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.   

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever. 

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

[wistfulrat]

im sorry if u dont do fic recs u can ignore this! ive been seeing ur reblogs n its kinda putting me back to mdzs mood (i thought i was over this sike to me ig) n if u have any fics uve read n liked id gladly take any 🤲

oh i love this for u!! im def new here so i haven’t actually read a ton but my fic finding method is currently —1) ask @lanwangjigrumpyfacecollection what i should read bc their taste is immaculate and i always end up crying at whatever they rec 2) after reading a particularly excellent fic, comb thru that author’s ao3 bookmarks, rinse repeat etc—and that hasn’t failed me yet :)

anyway here’s a list of my faves so far!

The Roots Grow Riotous by hansbekhart - 104k E a fashion industry au from LWJ’s pov. immersive, devastating, poetic. i could probs write an essay-length reflection on this shit. felt genuinely rearranged after reading it. a stand alone novel in its own right. a beautiful exploration of grief, loneliness, despair, horror, etc. like, come for the lovely wangxian dynamics and them being hot, stay for the revelatory LWJ character study that had me in fucking tearsss by the end. truly deserves to be read widely just for how singular and cinematic that third act is.

Three changes. by orange_crushed - 18k M for someone who reads so much angst i could choke on it, i love to recover with distilled tenderness, no hurt all yearning etc. and this is the blossoming of summer love cql-lecture-arc the boys deserved. peak comfort fic mentally i am in that lake scene. young terrified-of-love LWJ my beloved!!

Say So by @lanwangjigrumpyfacecollection - 15k E feat. a sex-cursed WWX incapable of playing it cool. LWJ is not not pleased. more importantly who is doing it like feelsforbreakfast. who!!! u know i had zero intention of getting into the untamed even tho it ruled my dash for 2 years and yet the moment ffb wrote a fic? im there. say less. say nothing at all. ur always in for a tender funny horny time. it’s hot it’s hilarious it’s abt the mortifying ordeal of voicing what one wants. 10/10 re-readability.

your name, safe in their mouth by astrolesbian - 10k G [lan sizhui gets sick on a night hunt. wei wuxian comforts him. they both have a lot of feelings about it.] how to gently rip out my heart and stitch it back together in 10k words: explore literally any aspect of WWX-LSZ father-son relationship. be sure to include post-resurrection WWX feeling like he’ll always be playing catch up with lost time and the people who had to survive his death. feature a vulnerable LSZ (who just wants to be close with his undead dad) and a wary WWX (who doesn’t know if he deserves that closeness). im still emo abt this

Pentimento. by orange_crushed - 73k E [Former best friends Lan Wangji, paintings conservator, and Wei Wuxian, art handler, meet again and realize... neither of them were actually in unrequited love.] immaculate setting, i read it for that reason alone. loved LWJ’s pov in this—reserved, self-conscious, observant, sad, suffocating with unspoken desires etc. but it’s the final paragraphs of the last chapter that got me. thee loveliest surprise and such a satisfying close to the story.

A Very Star-Like Start by hansbekhart - 3k E short lovely soft perfect. the extended cql wangxian lotus lake boat scene we deserved.

All that is solid melts into air by huxiyi - 18k T was absolutely taken with the premise of this fic bc 1) i love angst 2) i love seeing a bitter/sad/angry wangxian in their older age making amends 3) i love thinking about the class dynamics in CQL, WWX’s robin-hood streak, all the villains having origin stories that amount to a lack of status, and the breakdown of relationships because of these dynamics. everything is a sad mess but it will be ok!

No night as deep as my night. by orange_crushed - 17k E another orange_crushed bc well. if u find a good author it makes sense to work thru all their fics. anyway this one is a post-nightless city au. wwx on the verge of death. lwj desperate to save him. equal parts dark and lovely. idk how to explain it but i feel like orange_crushed excels at using a fic setting to build emotional landscapes that completely expand ur understanding of a character. this one in particular feels like a love letter to the burial mounds, homes made out of dead things, personified darkness, etc.

[robertdowneyjjr]

Thank you for your answer to the qu about indio/rdj! It was really nice reading a more positive explanation, honestly. I think the reason it stands out is because its not an isolated incident, like if you read interviews from 2012 onwards, you’ll notice he starts using the singular term ‘kid’ eventho he has 2 and indio was only 18 so its very confusing and thats the case in majority of articles. Also like I said those freudian slips infront of the camera where he’s literally forgotten about his existance and realised and then had to backtrack and correct himself? Not a good look tbh. That being said I dont think he does it maliciously? He just needs to think more because he does it A LOT and i know other people have noticed and commented on it too. I mean the 2014 birthday post thing was just straight up not good and he’s a very emotionally intelligent man so that was definitely a choice. With the dolittle award speech, it was for kca, I would agree w you but the way he specifically said susans name and then exton and avri with little sentences for each is what made it odd. Not to mention he’s never mentioned indio in any of his award speeches and yeah he’s older now but rdj has won numerous awards since he was born but now he’s always mentioning his new kids? Like why such a drastic difference you know? There’s just too many instances so I dont think its the biggest reach but we dont know what their real life is like. It’s just sad to see because its quite obvious that indio has always gotten the shortest end of the stick :( and obv rdj is busy, he’s always away filming or going places and when he isnt, he spends most of the time in his hampton’s place so logistically I dont think they see eachother much — and i say this because i was just thinking about how he’s essentially an only child and his mother isnt doing very well health wise, so yk rdj is basc the only person he really has. I want to think that im exaggerating but honestly i could make a whole book out of the times rdj has acted/insinuated like he only has 2 kids, when age wasnt even relevant. Like even their christmas card from a few years ago, I dont really understand why he didnt include his own son? He wasnt even that old, he had just turned 21 and thats irrelevant anyway, just so odd.... Wow this wasnt meant to be this long, apologies for dragging on and going off on a tangent, i know you dont care too much about this stuff but i really did enjoy reading your opinion! Also idk if what im trying is clear so a small example that isnt very deep is him saying ‘I am married, I have a kid, I have a real life without cameras.’ - from his interview with Times Magazine, Indio was 19 and Exton 1 - ‘A kid’ ? 🥴 like I said not too deep but still weird? Age is not of relevance here, your kid is your kid esp when youre speaking about it the way he is and he basc does this 90% of the time which is why I question it - sorry if ive repeated things again, just wanted to explain my thinking better :)

hmm okay. honestly, i really won’t be giving this much more thought because at the end of the day, it’s really not our business and like i said before, we don’t know what their relationship is and we can’t judge it just from the few social posts and publicly accessible video clips that are available.

it wouldn’t do anyone any good to overanalyze this. i’m generally a glass half full kind of person and i don’t think indio is being overlooked by his parents. robert was extremely supportive of him throughout his trial. he supports his son’s music career which is obviously one of the most important things in indio’s life right now. jimmy (rip angel), who was robert’s right hand man and was basically with him almost every day, was extremely close to indio. davy and travis, who also work closely with robert, also know indio well and interact with him regularly on socials. i just don’t think, if robert and indio had a poor relationship, that his inner circle would be close to indio. but they are, and their obvious connection is robert. for me, by all accounts, i believe he’s being as good a father as he can be for indio.

again, there is a lot we don’t know and we can’t just assume one thing or another just because we get a glimpse into 2% of their lives. we don’t know them personally. we don’t know their family dynamics. we can’t just project and fill in the gaps (and there are a lot of gaps here) when we don’t have all the information, nor is it any of our business, to be honest.

[fragmentedink-archived]

Hell to Pay: Part Fifty- Three

I, II, III, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, XI, XII, XIII, XIV, XV, XVI, IX, IX, XX, XXI, XXII, XXIII, XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XVIIII, XXX, XXXI, XXXII, XXXIII, XXXIV, XXXV, XXXVI, XXXVII, XXXVIII, XXXIX, XL, XLI, XLII, XLIII, XLIV, XLV, XLVI, XLVII, XLVIII, XLIX, XLX, LI, LII

cowritten by @lux-scriptum

Lev put his hands on his hips. Cameron and Ash had done most of the heavy lifting, and Mami and Cameron had gotten the food ready, so Lev really hadn’t done much, but it’d turned out nice, and in the end that was all Lev could ask for, really. They had indeed gone with an ocean theme, to match the nursery, and since despite Lev’s efforts to help in some way or another, Cameron had been in charge of everything and took little input, it was all rather tasteful.

Lev fussed with the placement of the snacks, even though he knew Cameron was going to come along behind him and fix it again. He felt useless, especially with Ash reminding him to not push himself.

As expected, Cameron appeared, smacking Lev’s hand away. “Knock it off,” Cameron reprimanded. “The others should be arriving soon.”

“Is Biela coming?” Lev asked. They’d sent an invite; it’d’ve been rude to not. To Lev’s knowledge, she hadn’t responded.

“Likely not. She’ll probably send Caius in her stead.”

“Mm.” Lev had liked Caius, the one time he’d met him. He was pretty. And seemed kind. Friendly, at the very least.

Cameron lifted a brow, and grabbed Lev’s hand when Lev reached to adjust a platter of pastries. “If you don’t leave it alone, I’ll make you go baby sit Nik.”

Lev opened his mouth to argue, but Nik himself had appeared in the doorway, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. “What’s the party for?” the pregnant omega mumbled.

“You,” Lev grumbled, making his way over to Nik. At least he was allowed to fuss over Nik, and he did so with a tiny spark of pleasure, pressing a kiss to Nik’s cheek and brushing his green and black hair from his eyes. “You’re not supposed to be awake yet. It was gonna be a surprise.”

Nik frowned sleepily at Lev. “I had to pee,” Nik complained bitterly.

“We’ve been planning for a week,” Lev informed him, before brushing his cheek lightly. “Oh well. Now I don’t have to figure out a way to get you dressed.”

“Planning what for a week?” Nik muttered. “My birthday isn't until next week.” He pulled a face. “And I can’t even get drunk.”

“Your baby shower,” Lev said, guiltily tucking away Nik’s birthday to worry about later.

“My what?”

Lev sighed, and started herding Nik out the door. He could practically feel Cameron rolling his eyes at him. “Your baby shower. Did you think I would let you get away without one?”

Nik shrugged. “I didn’t even think about it.”

With another sigh, Lev slid his arm around Nik’s waist. “I wasn’t going to not give you one. We invited your brothers. Both of them. You deserve it.”

Nik made a face at him.

“Come on. Let's get dressed,” Lev said, bonking his shoulder with Nik’s.

---

Nik let Lev lead him back to the bedroom to get clothes. He hadn't really thought much about clothes lately and had been wearing sweats for the most part.

He thumbed through a few pairs of jeans and frowned. "None of these are going to fit, are they?"

"...Cameron went shopping."

Nik squinted and looked through his jeans once more. He pulled a pair out and stretched. "When did he do this?" Nik frowned at the alien jeans with their stretchy fabric in horror before shrugging it off and grabbing a loose black shirt to go with it.

Lev had no answer other than his own shrug and took it at face value. The idea of Cameron in a maternity store was too hilarious a thought to stay irritable at it.

Nik worked at getting himself slowly dressed. Without any coffee in his system, he was fighting the urge to just go back to bed. Though luckily enough for him, he wasn't showing nearly as much as what he had seen on the internet with people pregnant the same length as he.

"Seems like a pretty big party for like seven people." Nik said. He rubbed his eyes, pulling the last bit of sleepiness away. "Unless you decided to invite his royal prickliness too."

"Well I assume Bay is coming. Celeste too; they'll bring the babies," Lev said. "We also invited Biela too- though we don't think she'll come."

"I should hope not. I might do something hormonal like poison her sparkly punch, or something."

"Nikolas."

"Hm?" Nik started for the doorway, expecting Lev to follow him back to where he was sure the festivities would eventually begin.

By the time they got there, Bay and Nate had already arrived with Lucas sitting contently on Bay's hip chewing on a teething toy. And their boy scout was promptly hovering behind them.

"Silas," Nik said. "Didn't think you'd be here. Unless you're here because of Lev, of course."

Silas' only response was to flip him off, though it was short lived by Nate smacking him upside the head hard enough Nik heard Silas' neck pop. Nate gave Silas a dirty warning look.

Nik snorted. "Need to learn new tricks."

"Hi Silas," Lev said, from Nik’s side.

Silas gave a disgruntled, "Hey Lev."

Nate looked pleased at Silas' newfound self restraint. "The party looks great, Nik."

"I know, I did great," he said, lying through his teeth. Nik smooshed Levs face away when Lev pinched his hip. "My taste: impeccable."

Nate rose a singular groomed brow. "Oh I'm sure." He looked to Lev. "It looks great, Lev."

Already Lev had glued himself back to Nik’s side. He looked a little put out as he said honestly, “Most of the praise should go to Cameron and Ash and Mami. I wasn’t allowed to do much.”

"Well next time don't die," Ash said, appearing back in the doorway. "That way you'll actually be able to do some of the heavy lifting."

Nik frowned deeply at him, especially once Lev froze next to him and looked uncomfortable.

Ash looked perfectly unfazed.

Mami appeared a heartbeat later, to which Nate instantly perked up somehow even more. Though her eyes were trained on the well behaved six month old in Bay's arms.

The tiny woman nearly flew across the room to get to him, only for Bay to stare her down and refuse to relinquish the baby. "No."

Nate instantly jumped in. "He's still, ah, getting used to letting people hold Lucas," he said, quickly. "I can get Eden for you, if you like?"

Nik's hand flew over his mouth at the mirrored glare coming from both Mami and Bay. She sized Bay up, clearly deciding if it's worth it or not to challenge both her king and the omega that carried the partly legless bundle of joy. Bay's eyes narrowed. "I said no."

She huffed and tore her attention back to Nate who gave her a warm hug, though she was absolutely miniscule compared to Nate's height of six-two. When she pulled back, Nate went to disappear, presumably to find the little terror most likely taking a nap.

When he came back, Nate not only had Eden crawling all over him, he also had Adrien and his wife in tow. Neither of them had particularly warm or friendly looks on their faces, though that was usually par for the course for Adrien and Dyaana.

"Hello," Lev offered.

Dyaana eyed Lev, and gave him a slight smile whereas Adrien looked halfway in pain and just nodded once before coming to give Nik a hug.

Lev wisely removed himself from Niks waist before he got crushed by pure muscle. When Adrien pulled apart, Nik said, "didn't think you'd step foot in Demon Territory."

"The things you do for family," Adrien deadpanned.

Nik only grinned.

"Hey where's your clone?"

"Babysitter," Adrien said. "I'd rather not risk my two year old getting eaten by your boyfriend."

"Hey, Cameron doesn't eat infants. If he had, he would have eaten Eden," Nik said. "She's far more appealing as a meal than Mathias."

Adrien's only response to that was to roll his eyes. At that Lev decided to usher Nik to an armchair. "I am not an invalid, Lev," he said, plopping down anyways.

Lev perched on the armrest and kissed the top of Nik's hair. "I know dear."

When Adrien snorted, Nik threw him a poisonous glare. "Oh shut up."

Eden was still screeching happily in Mami's arms, getting all the attention she wanted, even though she was trying to latch her tiny teeth in Mami's shoulder. Mami easily avoided it by giving her a toy worthy of her teeth.

It was another twenty minutes before Celeste arrived. The last time he saw the witch she was about to pop. But judging by the fussy newborn in her arms, that was no longer the case. She came over to offer Nik a hug, and to show off her tiny pale baby. "We named him Dakota," she informed them.

Lev instantly cooed over him. "He’s so cute," Lev said. "Can I hold him?"

Ash found his way over to butt his nose in like he usually did. He squinted at Lev, but Celeste was already moving to hand him over. "Of course. Watch his head?"

"I know," he assured.

"Wait," Nik said, "Do you know that Ash is staying here…?"

"Yes she does," Ash said, "And she also is staying here. They both are."

Nik's brows shot up. "Is Cameron aware of this?"

Ash lifted a shoulder. "I told him."

"You 'told' him," Nik echoed.

"Dunno what you expected. I have a wife and a kid that I need to be with and I have a stubborn friend who refuses to listen to me. I told you I'm making myself everyone's problem."

Celeste looked pained. But Lev seemed perfectly blissed out; he hadn't even looked up from the fussy baby in his arms. "I don't think I'll mind having them here." He looked up at Celeste. "You've always been nice."

She gave him a tired smile. "I certainly try." She cut Ash a look. "Some people make it difficult sometimes."

Ash folded his arms. "If they don't want me to be difficult, maybe they should try to listen to me for once."

Celeste rolled her eyes but looked back to Nik. "I'm very happy for all of you. I'll help however I can."

Lev’s focus was already trained back on Dakota. Nik squirmed a little. "Thanks, I guess."

She just squeezed his hand.

---

Cyrus lit the last candle and shook out the match. He looked over at Darius as he settled on the bed. “On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is this?” he asked drily.

Darius thought on that for a moment. “Probably a seven point two.”

After giving a small sigh, Cyrus laid back on the bed. “Better than I ten, I suppose.”

When he opened his eyes again, he was no longer lying on his bed. He wasn’t even in his own house anymore. The walls around him were all earthy tones, the green accents only catching his eye briefly before he settled on Asmi themself.

The god was tall, their dark skin a deeper brown than his own, and bright blue eyes that pinned him in place. After a moment where he froze -afraid, if he was willing to admit it - he dipped his head respectfully. When he looked at them again, he noted that they were still seated in their chair, face thin and tight, bags under their eyes, though they kept their chin high.

“Am I right in assuming that Darius explained what’s going on?” Cyrus ventured.

"You poisoned me once and now you want me to give you the tools to be able to do so again?"

Cyrus forced himself to keep his gaze steady. “If I do it right, it shouldn’t this time.”

"Shouldn't have happened the first time," they said flatly. "Necromancy defies balance and you weakened me for an angel who didn't bother communing with me in the first place. You didn't bother communing with me in the first place. And now that you need my help, you finally deign to bother?"

Cyrus inclined his head ever so slightly. “Ignorance is not an excuse, but it’s the only explanation I personally have.” He folded his hands carefully on his knee. “I made a promise. I don’t break them.” Asmi gave him the time he needed to gather his words. “I am sorry. For everything. I’ve never-” He paused again, frustrated by how hard it was to piece together the words. “It’s not an excuse, that I was never taught how to commune with you. Darius had to teach me, and you’re not even his god. But I want to do right by Darius. If nothing else, he’s been kind to me, and kind to everyone. I promised Cameron I would try. This is me trying. I want to make a deal that will work, not flub the spell again.”

They seemed to think on it; to weigh his words carefully. "What kind of deal?" They finally said.

“Same as the one that brought Levant back.” Cyrus considered his words and then amended, “A similar one, at least. Some sort of exchange.”

"And what's stopping you?"

Cyrus shook his head. “I don't want to risk getting the exchange wrong. That’s what released the dark magic into the earth in the first place. The spell unravelled, and I won’t let that happen again. But I won’t sacrifice Cameron Luain for this spell. It makes both this one and the one that brought Levant back completely pointless.”

Asmi nodded slowly and leaned back in their chair, blue eyes narrowed in thought. "Pick your sacrifice one last time and I will cover the remaining sacrifice to your spell. I warn you, the price will be heavy and I am not so easy to forgive the disruption you have caused me. Make sure this is worth it before you once again defy me."

Cyrus nodded slowly. “Thank you,” he said softly. When Asmi didn’t reply, Cyrus added, “If it’s not arrogant of me to ask... I’d like to talk to you again.” He cocked his head ever so slightly. “I know nothing of you, as my god or as a god in general. I’d like to fill in the gaps my education has.”

"It's not arrogant," they said. "It's what's expected of you. So yes, you may. There's plenty you need to get caught up on."

Cyrus limited himself to a small smile. “Then I look forward to speaking to you in the future,” he said politely. “Thank you, again.”

Rather than reply, they gave a tired flick of their wrist.

Cyrus blinked his eyes open to see his own ceiling. Sorin was sprawled against his side, purring as he kneaded his claws gently in Cyrus’ arm. Cyrus rolled his head until he could find Darius. “I think I got permission. I need to call Cameron.”

---

The party had been well underway when Cameron stepped out of the room. He slipped into his office several hallways down before his phone started to buzz. He didn't let it finish its first ring before answering. "Are you ready, then?"

“Sort of.” Cyrus hesitated. “I spoke with Asmi. They’ve promised as long as someone is sacrificed, they’ll take care of the rest, rather than risk the spell failing. I just don’t have anyone to sacrifice, to my knowledge.”

"Well lucky for you," Cameron said, "I currently have a spineless traitor rotting in my basement. Will that appease your morals?"

“A traitor?” Cyrus pressed mildly.

"A person who betrays a friend, country or a principle," Cameron replied, matching his tone. "A traitor."

“How did he betray you?”

"Well now, that's my business, now isn't it?"

There was a long pause, and then, “Did they kill anyone?”

"He's my employee."

The sigh the witch gave was audible through the phone even if Cameron hadn’t been a demon. “Fine. I’ve got a few things to pull together but I’m mostly ready, whenever you are.”

Cameron promptly hung up his phone and smoothed out his suit. He gave himself five heartbeats to settle before joining the festivities.

Caius had finally arrived, with many gifts in tow, despite it being demonic custom to not celebrate an infant until after its birth. Adapting to Nik’s angelic ancestry, he imagined. Cameron hadn't bothered saying as much when Lev suggested a baby-shower. If that was what the angel thought Nik needed, then he would provide.

Nik instantly eyed him from where he was, brows rose in question, but Cameron went to turn his focus to the Crown Prince currently placing the gifts along the table. "You seem to be in a rather generous mood, my prince," Cameron observed.

Caius flashed him a dazzling smile. "Why you make it sound like I'm not always in a giving mood, my loyal subject."

"I imagined a massacre would dampen your rather optimistic spirits."

Grief flickered in Caius' blue eyes. "All the more reason to celebrate a new life."

"Hm."

"I brought you all gifts," Caius said, with an echo of cheerfulness. "Including one for him."

"Much thanks." Cameron looked Nik's way to see him talking animatedly with Ash and Lev and Nate. He seemed to have been brought to a better mood with the sole focus on him. "It's always an honor to receive the eye of the crown."

Caius snorted at Cameron’s ingrained court-speak, but said nothing of it. Merely squeezed his shoulder before disappearing back into the party to give gifts to their respective recipients.

---

Admittedly, after so many months of solitude or just Cameron and Nik for company, the party was a little overwhelming. He drew comfort from the fact that Nik was right there, and Cameron lingered on the edges of the party being Cameron.

The fact that Caius was very friendly helped, though. Lev barely knew the man, but he was pretty and his smile seemed both genuine and calm. He laughed easily and didn’t seem bothered by the amount of angels in the room with him, despite being the Crown Prince of demonic territory.

At some point during the festivities, Caius pulled Lev aside, though. Lev glanced back at Nik, but let Caius with only a flustered, “Okay.”

“I got you something,” Caius said, flashing him another smile that definitely made Lev flush a little.

“Nik’s the one who’s pregnant,” Lev blurted. He flushed deeper, and then said quickly, “I don’t mean to be rude, it’s just Nik’s day, I wasn’t expecting anything.”

“I got everyone a present,” Caius said easily, unbothered.

Lev blinked down at the box, confusion at why it looked very much like a ring box catching him off guard. The brief glance up at the prince told him he was very amused, and Lev had to wonder if he was a telepath like Biela. When he opened it, though, a locket was nestled inside.

“Oh,” Lev said, picking it up gently. He thumbed it open to find a picture of Cameron, Nik, and Eden each in its own little section. “Oh.”

“Were you expecting an engagement ring?” Caius asked.

“Oh,” Lev spluttered. “No, not expected, I-” He gestured helplessly at the box, flushed deeply. “I love it, really.” He ran his finger over the picture of Nik, knowing his face was softening as he did so. “It’s perfect.”

Caius said, “Well I’m glad. You’re not an easy person to pinpoint.”

“I don’t want much,” Lev said honestly.

Caius shrugged. “Just the important things.”

Lev let his attention track through the room, hitting on Cameron, Nik, and Eden one by one. “Exactly,” he said softly. He switched his gaze back to Caius, offering him a smile. “Thank you. Truly. I love it.”

Caius winked at him, but before he said anything else, Nik made his way over. He gave Lev a pointed look. “What’s going on over here?” Nik asked. “You look like you’re about to ask his hand in marriage, Levant.”

“No,” Lev promised, tucking into Nik’s side pointedly. “I was just thanking him. He got me a gift. See?” He showed it to Nik with enthusiasm.

Nik kissed his cheek. “It’s very pretty. Where’s my attention?”

A laugh bubbled up in his throat. “You’ve got a whole party. I wasn’t gone long.” He shot Caius an apologetic look.

"Well let me make it up to you," Caius said to Nik. "As you're doing all the heavy lifting, you deserve a gift of your own, yes?"

Nik arched a brow. "I'm literally doing nothing other than being a rotisserie oven."

“Nikolas,” Lev hissed, poking him gently. “Be polite.”

Nik raised his brows but Caius only laughed. "Even still. Not easy. I understand you like music?"

"Something like that, yeah."

Caius' smile widened. "Great! I actually worked with a few different craftsmen and musicians to have something built for you. Excuse me."

When Caius disappeared back to the piles of gifts he had brought, Nik turned back to Lev. "Very pretty isn't he?"

Lev could feel heat rising in his cheeks yet again. “Yes,” Lev said primly. “There’s no need to tease"

"I have never teased you a day in your life," Nik said. "Merely stating an observation."

“You tease me daily,” Lev informed him, but he still smiled at Nik, reaching up to brush Nik’s hair from his eyes. “Every single day, Nikolas. Every day.”

“Are you calling a pregnant omega a liar?”

“Maybe so,” Lev hummed. He kissed the corner of Nik’s mouth. “Maybe so.”

Caius came back with an elegant cedar guitar. The gleaming guitar’s finish was clearly done to bring out the natural colors of the wood. Nik’s eyes trailed over the body of the guitar and rested on the careful mosaic beadwork around the hollow. “That design work is specific to Tullum,” Nik said, vaguely accusatory; though mostly amused. “Are you trying to buy me off?”

Caius seemed unbothered. “Not particularly. Just trying to gift you something you would actually enjoy. I find personal gifts are more memorable.”

“Sure,” Nik said, but he was still moving closer to run his fingers along that delicate beadwork.

“Thank you,” Lev said, since Nik didn’t seem inclined to.

Caius merely winked at him.

Lev blushed, since Nik seemed too interested in his new guitar to be embarrassed. He certainly was interested enough to take it from Caius and strum a few bars. Lev elbowed Nik gently. Nik ignored him, but Caius seemed pleased anyway.

Caius dipped himself into a mini bow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s Cameron’s turn.”

---

Cameron led the prince back towards his office where they could be alone without prying party guests could interfere. He took the gift meant for Darius and sat it carefully on the desk, and turned back to Caius. “I received a call from the witch who will be performing the spell,” Cameron said. “I figured you would want to be informed.”

Caius slipped his hands smoothly into his pockets. “I would.” Caius cocked his head, eyeing Cameron very carefully. “You have certainly come a long way from the bastard whore I met you as.” There wasn’t any disrespect in his words, merely a statement of observation. “Now a lord in your own right, with your own family.”

“I am merely filling in a role that needed filling,” Cameron said. “Though I am grateful nonetheless.”

“Hm.”

“The resurrection,” Cameron said, pointedly, drawing attention from whatever point Caius was clearly trying to make. “Should be happening within the week.”

Caius gave him a look, but let the insolence slide. “So you have someone lined up to be slaughtered for a sacrifice?”

“Slaughtered is a large word for a demon with a weak spine, your grace.”

Caius lifted a groomed brow. “Is that so?”

“The witch’s morals interfered with choosing a warm body, and luckily enough, I happened to have a traitor rotting in my basement.”

Caius snorted. “Traitor? From the rather loud screaming, I did imagine someone was being tortured in this house.” He tapped his temple. “I’d like to see this traitor.”

With little choice to that matter, Cameron led the prince through the house, down to the basement where Sage was still chained up. Cameron had been keeping him well fed and in peak condition outside of his routine torturing. Sage rolled his head towards them, tiredly, but there was a bit of surprise - and a new found fear- flickering in his eyes when he saw Caius next to him.

Caius eyed him slowly, circling the chair bolted into the floor. The impeccable clothes tailored to Caius’ frame were a stark contrast to the sharp bleakness of the room, though Cameron knew the weight of power a good suit held, and how to weaponize it.

When Caius stopped in front of the chair, he had a small smile gracing his face. “I could hear your thoughts from upstairs,” he said. “Clearly you wanted my attention.”

Sage sucked in a haggard breath, trying to not look at Cameron. “Just make him kill me,” he rasped. “I’ve been here for months-”

“My sister was tortured by angels for months on end,” Caius said, unfazed. “She was whipped and beaten and carved up and she hadn’t broken. She hadn’t begged for death, or whatever pathetic attempt at mercy this is. In fact, the difference is,” he said, “this was rather well deserved. Your treasonous actions against your lord led to the events of millions of children dying, so, if you were to die, it’s going to be for something that is definitely not for your benefit.” Caius leaned forward, just enough to keep the blood from touching him. “Don’t worry, your suffering will soon end.”

Caius leaned back and turned to Cameron. “Do what you need. So long as another innocent isn’t taken from these lands, I couldn’t care less.”

Cameron’s mouth twitched, but he just inclined his head.

---

The day had been tense and heavy for Darius. Between getting everything in line with Asmi and Cyrus, and also not returning to the Manor, knowing Destris was lurking the halls, Darius had decided to spend his time that night playing a small game of fetch with Sorin in his demonic form.

A small ball of paper used a rather small amount of energy, so it was easy to keep up. Around three in the morning, they had been playing the quiet game going for the last few hours after Cyrus retired to bed. Sorin had been kind enough to keep him company while his mate slept without him.

It was then that the front door opened silently. Sorin flicked his ears at Cameron, who promptly ignored him and started his way back through the house. Darius rose to his feet and followed him back, veering around him to get to Cyrus before he did to give the witch a heads up.

He touched Cyrus’ shoulder, in effort to wake him. He blinked sleepily at Darius, eyes flashing gold from the amount of swollen magic Cyrus had building inside him. “I’m assuming Cameron is here?” The amount of pure tired that was in Cyrus’ voice didn’t go unnoticed or unappreciated by Darius.

Cameron walked into the room not even a heartbeat later. “Have I come at a bad time?” He sounded very unsympathetic.

Darius flashed Cyrus an apologetic wince.

All Cyrus said was, “No,” while rising to a sitting position. “Are you here to speak to Darius?”

If he hadn’t been watching Cameron’s every move the last five hundred years, he would have missed the way Cameron’s jaw set. “Yes.”

Cyrus gave the smallest of sighs, but stood up. “I have my supplies in my study.”

Unsurprisingly, Cameron merely turned around and most likely started towards the study. Darius simply waited patiently for Cyrus to get ready.

Cyrus rubbed at his face, stifling a yawn with his wrist as he followed Cameron. His movements were slow and heavy, but he only made his way into the study and began lighting candles while Sorin followed, tail swishing over the ground like a fluffy ginger ribbon.

Cameron stood stiffly out of the way, slender hands in his pockets while he waited, unblinkingly in pure silence. Darius did not need his magic to know that Cameron getting here was like pulling teeth.

Darius could only imagine the weight in his chest he’d be feeling at the idea of Cameron avoiding him to the point he has to force himself to be here- to speak to him.

There was relief in Cyrus’ voice as he began the incantation for Darius to manifest to Cameron. When Cameron’s pale eyes slid to him, unreadable as ever, Darius curled a lock of hair behind his ear, if only to relieve some of his own tension. “You wanted to speak with me?”

Cameron’s lips thinned.

Darius gave him the time to be able to put together the words he needed to patiently. Finally, Cameron fixed his jaw once more and said, “I am assuming you still want to be resurrected?”

“Do you still want me to be resurrected?”

Cameron’s eyes narrowed. “The Prince has gifted me papers of your reinstatement as a citizen of Razya the moment you are alive. As if you had never been dead in the first place.”

A citizen of Razya? Darius hadn’t even been considered a citizen when he was alive. Bastards hold no citizenship, no rights, no protection. He hadn’t even had a home before he had been abducted when he was a child. Merely living on the streets. A pretty child with no home was easy prey.

“That was very kind of the prince.”

“Mm.”

“Is that all you wished to tell me?” Darius asked, after a heavy silence.

“I imagine you’re aware that Nik is pregnant.”

When Darius nodded, Cameron said, “I mated him, a few weeks ago when his father tried to stake a claim on him. I used the Old Laws.”

Darius smiled. “That was kind of you,” he observed. “I’m sure Nik adores you very much. He and his child will be safe with you.” When Cameron rose a brow, Darius tried to not snort. “I will do my best to not upset the dichotomy of the house, Cameron. I have a rather pleasant personality.”

“I can see nothing going wrong with that,” Sorin said from the doorway.

Darius flicked Sorin a look. “I’m sure I have no idea what you are referring to, Sorin. I seem to get along rather fine with you.”

Sorin smiled, eyes crinkling. “True enough.”

Darius returned his attention back to Cameron, who was giving Sorin his own irritable look. Though the moment Cameron caught Darius’ eye, his expression returned to neutrality.

“I’m sure you will,” Cameron said, as if Sorin hadn’t spoken a word. “However Nik’s shrunken frontal lobe suggests he will not behave accordingly. So when he eventually does decide to overreact, I suggest you be prepared for it. He’s emotional on a good day and as he is pregnant, he’s even more so.”

“Thank you for the precaution.”

“I thought it would be beneficial.”

Cameron’s pale eyes lingered on him momentarily, flickering in the candle light, before he turned back to Cyrus who was kneeling on the ground near the candles. His eyes seemed rather unfocused. “When can we get this over with?” Cameron asked him. When Cyrus didn’t answer, Cameron moved his attention to Sorin in the doorway. “Focus your witch.”

Cameron rolled his eyes when Sorin hissed at him, but moved to crouch near Cyrus. Cyrus blinked at him, and then fixed his gaze on Cameron. “Pardon?”

“When can we get this over with?” Cameron said, irritably.

He always did detest repeating himself.

“Within the next few days,” Cyrus replied. “I’ve got everything ready. I just need to set it up.”

Cameron pulled out his phone, clearly flicking through his schedule. “I’ll give you the next two days to set up and then I will be here at seven sharp the third day. Be ready by then.”

Cameron slipped his phone into his pocket and disappeared through the door without a glace his way.

Darius bit back his sigh. “I do hope that is alright.”

Cyrus shrugged. “Not that I have much of a choice. But I’ll be fine. Once the spell is done, I’m going to take the longest nap, however.”

“And it will be the most well deserved longest nap,” Darius said, solemnly.

With a tired smile, Cyrus began extinguishing the candles, one by one, coating the room with nighttime once more.

Tagging:  @incandescent-creativity @solangelo3088 @lil-miss-red @halstudies @littleyellowdinosaur @caelisis @idreamonpaper

[lucas-koh]

Stitches - Bryce Lahela x MC IV

As always please go and read parts 1-3 if you haven’t yet, the link is in my bio to the tumblr masterlist as well as Ao3.

Doesn’t exactly follow canon, but elements of canon. FWB.

Song: Late Night Feelings - Mark Ronson, Lykke Li

Rating: M; implied sex, swearing, sexual language

Word Count: 3457

Taglist: @lahellacute @lahamseiroshoe @anotherbeingsworld @fuseboxmusebox @choicesficwriterscreations @bubblelaureno @bratzlahela

Chapter Four: Late Night Feelings

Grappling with the doorknob, she realised that it wasn’t going to open. Suki cursed herself for having locked the door earlier. So much for trying to keep partygoers out of there. Reluctantly removing her lips from Bryce’s, she turned around so she could see the lock, even if it was spinning a little.

Bryce took this opportunity to pull her backside tight to his body, swiping hair from her neck so he could kiss down it. They were soft kisses but left tingles in each spot he sucked on, warm and gently bruising. At each spot Suki could still feel his lips there, even though he’d moved to another location on her neck. She wanted to reach a hand back to tangle through those sun-streaked, soft, strands of hair. To encourage him to keep going. But if she wanted this to continue she would have to get the door unlocked.

“Bryce…” she whispered a laugh, grappling her hand towards her back pocket, “my key’s in here.” She slid her hand between their bodies to slip out the key, grazing Bryce’s thigh on the way.

He let out a quiet moan of complaint, but kept slowly sucking at the underside of her jaw. His soft kisses and tight hold were leaving her absolutely breathless. After struggling with the lock for longer than either of them wanted to wait, and a few cuss words, Suki was able to push open the door to her bedroom. Almost as soon as the door creaked open Suki turned back around to lock her lips with his again, pushing her hands flat against his pecs. The door closed automatically behind them, causing a louder slam than expected and a little jump from the two interns. Nevertheless, they continued to kiss their way back towards the bed.

Suki broke apart just before they reached the mattress, slipping off her shoes ever so slowly. Bryce followed, but watched hungrily, desperate for contact once more.

She pushed him back on the bed with one hand, following to climb on top and straddle him. He instinctively brought his hands up to dig into the sides of her thighs. Far too many clothes right now.

“Nice,” he grinned.

“No more talking, Lahela,” she breathed. She placed a finger to rest it on his mouth in a ‘shushing’ motion, where he gave it a cheeky lick. She laughed at the action but didn’t move.

“Not a peep,” he winked, pulling her finger from his face and using his grip on her hand and thigh to flip her over so he was on top. Entwining their lips again, Bryce teased his fingers up the hem of her top, feeling the warm contractions of her stomach as they kissed. Suki’s hands lightly grazed Bryce’s neck, keeping him where she wanted him.

Suki spun them around again so she was once again straddling Bryce. His hands found their space on the outsides of her thighs once more. She pulled her top over her head, earning a low whistle and chuckle from him. Then she started to pull Bryce’s top over his head, each tug revealing a new ab muscle. Bryce moved his arms above him to let her undress him, all the while regarding her with the smuggest grin ever.

“I can see why that patient called you Ken Doll…” Suki breathed out as she traced her fingers over the contours of his chest. He really looked like he’d been taken straight out of a Calvin Klein advert.

“I thought we weren’t talking?”

“Shut up,” she laughed, forcing him to be quiet by attacking his lips with hers again. They scrambled around with their trousers as they kissed, clumsy and desperate.

Soon enough they were in their underwear and touching all over each other’s bodies. At feeling her lacy underwear, Bryce wondered if maybe she’d known something would happen. He pulled her off him momentarily.

“Hey, you okay with this?”

“Yeah. You?”

He grinned wolfishly like the fact she’d even asked was ridiculous. Then they rejoined and continued on into the night, mulling in their pleasures and ecstasies.

—-

The next morning Suki’s eyes creaked open with difficulty as though she was peeling back a sticky label. She’d slept through the night fully with no interruptions. There was a heavy weight over her waist, and something pressing into her back. Light breaths tickled and warmed her neck.

Ah. Suki remembered the nights events, and sure enough, as she looked down ever so slightly, she saw the large rough hand draped over her body was a deep honey-coloured, highlighted by the sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains. She could see in her head the way it held her last night, gripping at her waist, digging into her thighs, and running itself through its owner’s soft gold-streaked hair. Nice. She echoed his own words from before.

Suki had done many one-night-stands before, so she wasn’t bothered with the fact they’d slept together. And after all, she had bagged the most attractive man she’d ever laid eyes on, and she hadn’t been drunk enough that she couldn’t remember everything they’d done in the dim witching hours. She could definitely recall the way he’d held her, his hot kisses, the stars he’d made her see. Only, he’d stayed the night. They worked together. They had weird history. What if he expected more? More than Suki could give him. She didn’t have time for feelings or dating, her job was her life now. She wasn’t even sure she was capable of feelings these days, it had been years since she’d been in a relationship.

But maybe she needn’t worry; Bryce was a perpetual flirt after all. In fact, of course she was being silly, of course he wouldn’t expect more. She’d known the guy, like, a month. Well, unless you counted their singular meeting at college. This was just what it said on the tin: a no-feelings, fucking amazing one-night-stand. She sighed in relief, slowly attempting to edge her body away from Bryce’s.

Suki felt Bryce stir behind her, grunting quietly. The bed creaked slightly as he moved. Her stomach contracted with nerves at the thought of him waking up. Okay, so they’d done some things last night – there was a LOT of looking and touching - but that didn’t stop the fact that Suki was cringing at the thought of Bryce seeing her naked that morning. That was just who she was. It didn’t matter that she saw other naked people at work all the time, but the fact that it was her own body in the sober light of day was different. Intimate. She cradled her comforter over her chest the best she could, trying to dispel the nerves from her head. It doesn’t matter. He saw it all last night, anyway. He more than saw it…

Another grunt from Bryce caused Suki to jump; she’d definitely woken him now. She tensed as though she could see his eyes blinking open behind her.

“Good morning,” Bryce said, his voice gruff and scratchy, his first words of the day settling on Suki’s ears. Well, unless they were working on technicalities, of course. She could practically see the smirk on his face, despite facing away from him.

Composing herself, Suki turned to lie on her back so that she could see his face, all the while clutching the sheets around her body. Bryce’s hand had remained loosely around her waist, but as she’d turned he’d brought it back into himself. There he drew shapes on the mattress, controlled yet elegant. Suki thought once again how Bryce would use that hand in surgery, steady and artful.

“Hi.”

The streak of light from the curtain was now drawing a line across Bryce’s right eye, down his straight nose, and over the undulations of his plump peach lips. His hair was scruffy, truly sex hair. The smirk which she was now convinced was a natural expression washed over his face, white teeth baring lightly at the movement. If there was ever a man fit to play an ancient God, it was Bryce Lahela. But, like, the rugged, bad boy God. And if Suki was honest with herself, he looked absolutely delectable, and she wanted to take another bite.

“Hi? Have I left you speechless?”

“No, Bryce. That’s how people greet each other.”

He snorted, but didn’t retaliate. They laid for a minute, Bryce drawing circles on the mattress in front of him and looking directly at Suki, and Suki staring at the ceiling above her, trying not to stare at sexy Hades.

“Well, it might be Sunday but I should still probably get up and ready in case I get a page,” he stretched, pulling his bicep upward with a hand on his head.

“Yeah, of course.”

There was a slightly awkward silence as Suki tried to not watch Bryce pull his black jeans over his gorgeous ass. As he was turned back she pulled on her underwear and a pyjama top which had been ejected from her bed the night before. Suki stepped closer to the door over her bedroom where Bryce was just finishing rolling up the sleeves of his Henley. The Henley she’d peeled off him ab by ab. She raked a hand through her hair, and cleared her throat.

“So, I have four roommates. You’ll have to be really quiet.”

He chuckled. “We weren’t very quiet last night.”

He’d done it again. Suki felt the familiar fire in her cheeks.

“Yes. Well.” She motioned to the door, unsure of what to say. Bryce simply laughed again and put a hand on the doorknob.

He looked back at her bemusedly for a pause before turning the knob and stepping out into the corridor.

Suki caught the door and shut it behind them quietly so as not to wake her roommates. The apartment was eerily quiet, but clean – it was undetectable that they’d had a party the night before. That was, aside from Bryce’s abandoned bin-bag by the sofa.

They got about halfway across the living room when they started to hear a key in the lock.

“Uh…” Suki froze. She couldn’t exactly run back to her bedroom, whoever it was would hear the two sets of footsteps anyway. Bryce shrugged nonchalantly - this didn’t put Suki’s nerves at ease in the slightest.

And then before she’d had time to make a decision, the door swung open. Aurora stood at the threshold, eyes flitting blankly between Suki and Bryce.

“I- uh- had to go and see my aunt at the hospital…help her with a case…” she trailed off, keys loose in her hand as she took in both of their messy hairs and the awkward gap between their bodies. Aurora also noted that Bryce was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing last night before she’d had to run off. She knew exactly what was going on here.

Suki’s eyes darted between Bryce and Aurora, wanting the ground to swallow her whole.

Bryce just watched Suki squirm with a shit-eating grin, arms crossed in a relaxed way across his broad chest.

It felt like the silence went on for hours.

“Shame you missed the party,” Bryce eventually broke the silence, winking at Aurora. She smiled sadly, and finally stepped into the apartment, leaving the door open for Bryce.

“Well, I’m glad you had fun.”

Bryce snorted, once again staring at Suki who was very pointedly avoiding his gaze. He walked over towards the door to begin to leave. He stopped for a minute, looking at the two girls again.

“Thanks for the sex,” he grinned with a wink, starting to saunter away from the doorway. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

Christ. That was the third time now she’d felt inconsolably embarrassed because of Bryce Lahela. Not counting the many small spells. The door banged shut and Suki wished it would shut out the awkward encounter, too.

Suki turned slowly to Aurora, whose face was even more shocked than it had been before. She gave an embarrassed little smile, and what was meant to be a nonchalant shoulder shrug. Instead she ended up looking like an un-oiled robot.

Would she ever catch a break? Her little moments of fun with Bryce all seemed to have ended in someone else walking in and embarrassing her. She wasn’t even sure what she could say to Aurora. She didn’t really want to talk about it, but she didn’t want Aurora telling the others either.

As if she was reading her mind, Aurora said: “Don’t worry, I won’t tell.”

Suki smiled gratefully at her friend, who looked tired from her night. So her worries now were not only on the accidental fact that she and Bryce were apparently not sly at all, but also at her friend for missing their awaited party and having to work all evening. And then coming home to find a semi-strange man in the apartment.

But even more so than her worries, Suki’s thoughts turned to Bryce’s departing words. Had he meant that? He wanted to do it again?

Yes. Yes he had.

—-

The next week Suki was caught first and foremost by Bryce after a night at Donohue’s. Their electricity whirred back up again like a generator coming to life as soon as they’d interacted again. And then they had a few drinks, inhibitions were lowered, and once again sexual desire took over. The roommates left early that night, but Suki and Bryce had stayed. They had stumbled into Bryce’s apartment attached and stayed that way for the rest of the night. Suki left before sunrise, she didn’t want to risk a repeat of their first time, her body couldn’t take getting so embarrassed again.

Over the next few weeks, Bryce and Suki thrice stole moments here and there, and as the moments grew more frequent, they became less careful. The thing was, that was the only time they’d see each-other. Small-talking in the halls or joining the other for lunch or coffee wasn’t something either of them were interested in.

“Just sex, right?” She’d asked him sheepishly as she pulled her scrub trousers back up the first time in the on-call room.

“Just sex. I’m sure neither of us have time to deal with any more than that. Just a reliable relaxation method.”

The third time, Bryce ambushed Suki in the corridor and pulled her into an empty room. It was getting frantic as the work and pressure piled up on them both, and they were hooking up at least once a week. Third work-hookup, third week. Bryce had started to kiss down her neck and tug at the hem of her trousers before she could wrap her head around it. She’d told herself she wouldn’t do this so quasi-publically again to avoid combusting if anyone found out; but he was there, and she wanted him more than anything. Jesus Suki, sort yourself out.

She had to admit to herself that this would be their fifth time, and thoughts about a one night stand were long dissipated.

Just as their makeout was getting heated and Suki’s hands were grabbing at the bottom of Bryce’s top for him to remove it, there was a knock at the door. A knock.

“Shit…” Suki mumbled, breaking away from Bryce. She pointed to the cupboard on the corner of the room, “get in.”

“In there??”

“Yes!” She whisper-shouted, shoving him towards the cupboard. He climbed in, eyeing her with disdain, and Suki smoothed herself down before going to answer the door.

“Oh!” He was surprised. It was the same nurse Suki recognised had been talking to Sienna at the housewarming party, holding a chart. He craned his neck around the room, seeing it was empty. “Oh, sorry. I thought my patient was in here. I must’ve read it wrong.”

“No problem,” Suki smiled, “I was just taking a breather.”

The nurse nodded kindly and left back out of the door.

Bryce burst out of the cupboard, looking a little put-out, but humour still painted over his face.

“Really?” He asked.

“Well, did you want another situation?”

He laughed and it echoed off the walls of the hospital room.

“I think I need to change my scrub top,” he smiled, lifting it up on one side where there was a large rip through it.

“How did that happen?”

“Coat hanger. Kind of backed into it.”

“Okay.” She said.

—-

Suki wasn’t sure why she was following Bryce to the changing rooms, but she was. He kept looking back, amused, as she moseyed behind him down the corridors.

When they finally reached the staff changing rooms, Suki looked round to check they were free, and began to speak behind him.

“Um… I think maybe we should work out some rules. Draw up a kind of list.”

“Seems a little much, don’t you think? For two people who just sleep together sometimes?”

“Nuh-uh, that’s three times now this has been a problem, that we’ve been caught in some kind of compromising position. We need to make rules so that we don’t break them. To keep this as straight and simple as it can be. If we’re going to do this, that is. You can back out any time.”

“You think I’m going to turn down free no-strings-attached sex with an incredibly attractive doctor? You’re insane,” he chuckled, “Okay, so I’m guessing number one is be a little more discriminating with our when’s and where’s?”

“Number one should be no work-place hook ups period.”

He blew air from his mouth like a fish. “Damn, Santa Fe. I suppose I’ll have to agree. We need to focus here, no distractions. I can’t be sneaking off with you if I want to stay the best surgeon at Edenbrook.”

Suki rolled her eyes playfully at his cockiness. Him agreeing to make this little arrangement official was a relief to Suki, though. Now she could concentrate on work and had an itch-scratcher on call. One who knew what he was doing.

“Okay. Number two – we don’t stay the night. It gets messy, I don’t need Aurora to catch you again.”

“There’s no one to catch you sneaking out at my place,” he grinned smugly.

“Bryce.”

“You’re right, it’s probably not a good idea.”

“Hold on,” Suki pulled her phone out of her locker, fiddling about on it for a moment. “I need this written down for posterity.”

He laughed at her thoroughness, but didn’t protest.

“We should have a signal, too. If we’re with other people or over text,” he suggested.

“That works. What sort of signal?”

“An ‘I want to have sex’ signal.”

“Yeah, I got that much. But what should it be?”

Bryce tapped his chin in thought. “What about touching your nose with your middle finger.”

“…what?”

“You know,” he demonstrated for her, “like that.”

She shook her head at him disdainfully, restraining herself from mimicking his actions.

“Fine, if that’s all you can think of. I suppose it’s both random and believable enough as a normal sort of movement. For texting we could use the nose emoji.”

Bryce threw his head back in a laugh. “Sexy.”

“Hey, it was your idea! Anyway, it kind of looks… phallic. In ways.”

Bryce pressed his hands together like he was praying and placed them on his mouth, thumbs supporting his chin, and shook his head slowly. He could not believe she’d just said that. After regaining composure, he added:

“Alright, how about: no drunk texting for a hook-up unless we know the other is also drunk, because it’s not gonna happen.”

“Of course, goes without saying.”

“Always gotta check.”

“No hickeys. No visible marking of any kind.”

Bryce chuckled under his breath as he remembered the opportunities he’d had to mark her, her neck muscles bobbing up and down.

“Agreed.”

“So this isn’t an exclusive thing, of course – you can sleep with whoever you want – but I’m going to need proof you’re clean if you have been going around,” she crossed her arms over her chest, all business.

“I’m a Doctor, what do you think of me?”

“Yeah, and all those douchebags at med school are probably doctors too, now.”

“Point taken. You can trust me, I’ll provide proof if necessary.”

“Likewise.” Suki knew she wouldn’t very likely be sleeping with anyone else, she wouldn’t actually have a chance to meet anyone really. But she didn’t want to rule out the possibility.

“Anything else?”

“Nothing I can think of, but we should be willing to add stuff on.”

He nodded. Suki tapped away at her phone for a few minutes, sorting out the list.

“I’m gonna need your number, scalpel boy.”

He winked exaggeratedly at this. “Oh?”

“To send you the list, obviously.”

[normal-thoughts-official]

Oooh yeah the first time I was playing as a female mc because I wanted to romance ava and I usually go male mc if I want to romance a man and female mc if I want to romance a woman (and I think there was one book with where mc could be non-binary so I picked that one but I didn't finished the book), and Stacy's brother felt Hetero™ in a way, like Hollywood ish (? Honestly like cinematographicly bad hetero) but I ended up really loving Andy too, and Stacy felt a little flat but also I really liked her potential, like go crazy girl, and the mom issues.

Apart but holy shit you're 10000% right about that teacher like who inmediately threatens expulsion just like that for something not violent ??? And to an honor student with way too much on his plate ??? Obviously it would have been bad with any student, but you have literally the reason of why he's doing it and as a teacher HE LITERALLY COULD HAVE HELPED WITH IT ??????? Like something teachers can't really help students because it's a family thing only or is a financial struggle or etc but it was literally because of school (and his family, but the teacher could have heloed him with the school part)

(Identity thief anon (also I go by any pronouns ahhshs))

ur valid! that's lowkey what i wish i'd do (picking female MC if my fave LI is female and the other way around, i mean) but unfortunately i always go into the stories blindly having no idea what i'll find </3 so i cant really do that doiajdiosa and then i get attached for the MC i picked so i feel bad about changing their gender/name/appearance when i replay. so what i usually do is that i pick a male MC when i get the option because A- u don't always get the option, so i end up being male half the time and female half the time either way; and B- i feel slightly more comfortable with a male identity than a female one. like i'm still nonbinary and i wouldn't consider myself male aligned or within the gender of Man, but like... when i first came out i went by any pronouns but then because im afab everyone was like "cool, she/her only it is" so i was like fuck that and stopped using she/her. so i feel slightly more comfortable with a masc MC and end up going with that

there's also the fact that it always feels slightly genderfucky to have a male MC because choices is so sexist and also always writes the stories assuming ull pick a female MC, even when they give u the option not to. so when u pick a male MC he's very like not toxically masc and some things they add to make a QuiRkY MC that are very white woman and would feel annoying are actually kind of subversive for my black and brown male MCs. so like another win for queerness /j

ILITW MC in particular i feel has HUGE nonbinary vibes like no reason at all he just does <3 maybe it's just that for once the male clothes for ILITW actually fUCK. i wanna dress in that goth outfit <3 so gorgeous ugh. i love him even tho he's a fucking dumbass

also there's a book where an MC can be enby? worm? ive only ever read one book in choices with any enby characters at all (america's most elligible, books 2-3) but they weren't even a LI which is disappointing cuz they were a billion times superior to any of the LIs. sorry america's most elligible LIs fans

also oh connor IS the epitome of white cistraight man even when u play as a man tbh, like he was just so cistraight to me daouhdsaojdasij he kind of annoys me but also i forget that he even exists until he shows up onscreen and choices starts trying to push me into his lap and i'm just like, ugh, not again

and yeah i think i feel a similar way about stacy. i don't dislike her as a character and i don't feel like she as a character felt flat, her growth was very interesting and i loved seeing her start to challenge her mom like YESSS GO GIRL GIVE US EVERYTHING, she just felt flat as a LI to me ig? like idk i didn't feel chemistry between her and my MC personally, but also like, stacy girls are valid u know

right exactly. like i don't think ppl really understand that a school that doesn't drive people to cry during finals week and feel absolutely crushed by having to be there and that makes ppl feel like they're stupid, not enough, and overwhelmed IS IN FACT POSSIBLE and actually pretty easy to make when we stop treating students like statistics that will get the school more clients/funding (depending on whether it's a private or public school). and like as a teacher getting my degree in brasil it just feels completely surreal to me that anyone would see a student who's so overwhelmed by the amount of extracurriculars and responsibilities he feels like he has to take that he starts taking drugs to help his performance despite it affecting his health, and see that as like... something morally reprehensible? like it is bad that it happened but it's not the student's fault, what's morally reprehensible are the circumstances that led to his decision, not his decision

and like it is very much a systemic problem, more and more kids are taking focus pills to be able to survive the pressure of school and have a shot at a future, either on their own or because we are actually medicalizing not existing to be productive. and if it's a systemic problem then the fault is at the system?? and like holy shit i legit don't understand why choices gave us options like being like "it still isn't enough" when lucas gets rid of his pills, what do you mean it isn't enough??? enough for what??? to FORGIVE him???? for something that only hurt himself??? for something that is very much a systemic problem and therefore NOT HIS FAULT????? literally what the fuck even is this, lucas doesn't have to "make up" for a single thing, he needs to be HELPED is what he needs

like idk i know that the school system in the US is...... extremely backwards lmao which is not a term i like to use because it usually implies imperialistic views but the US is the height of world imperialism so like actually idc. brasil has a pretty progressive constitution and as a teacher my whole education was focused on being critical of the school system, particularly the productivity obsession, and drilling into us again and again that we aren't supposed to just be teaching subjects, we are also supposed to be teaching how to be a citizen, be a critical human being, work towards building a better future, and learning and growing AS A PERSON to be healthy and happy are values of the school system

like that's easier said than done when schools are under insane amounts of pressure by companies in practice to be productivity-driven, and most teachers who actually want to do a good job end up having to live at the edge of the knife and constantly fighting back outside pressure, but at least it is very much a mandatory part of our education to become teachers and also like literally part of the constitution. so i just... i can't fathom reacting the way mr cooper did? like as a teacher i felt BETRAYED, i felt like he shat all over my profession because that is the opposite of what we should be doing, this is a kid who needs help

and just like hOLY SHIT HE DID NOTHING WRONG, what are you punishing him for??? it's not even a like, stealing bread to feed your family situation, because what he did HAS NO VICTIM OTHER THAN HIMSELF, and therefore HE IS THE VICTIM NOT THE CULPRIT. he doesn't have to repent or atone or answer for a single fucking thing, he didn't victimize others, he doesn't have to apologize, there's nothing to punish him fOR??? like i don't believe in punishment anyway cuz im a prison abolitionist but doDAUSDJADASIJDAS???????????? HE DIDN'T. HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING WRONG. WHY IS THIS WHOLE GAME ACTING AS IF HE WAS IN THE WRONG. OH MY GOD

it's like saying that someone needs to be forgiven for self harming????? like how is it that someone has been hurt continuously until it led them to hurt themselves and then they have to? make up for it to a bunch of other ppl? my god it makes me so mad and i genuinely don't understand the logic, like usually when i see someone doing fucked up shit i can see the logic but i don't agree with it, but this time i genuinely DON'T SEE THE LOGIC. my USan friends said it was because he was technically doing drugs but like i legit still don't understand

anyway any school that drives a student to do something like that needs to rethink their entire curriculum and the psychological effect it's having on kids, because lucas is 1- not even the first one according to mr cooper; 2- even if he was, that'd be the only one who got CAUGHT; and 3- even if there was really only one singular student who went tHIS far, i doubt the others weren't feeling that same pressure and dealing with it in other similarly unhealthy ways

i know that's probably easier in brasil than in the US even if it's by no means easy here because here at least in public schools the curriculum and political-pedagogical plan has to be agreed on by the school community (teachers, parents, students, workers, and anyone who lives in the area of the school) and it's updated every year, so like, you have more means to do something to change the school in a deeper way, altho of course that still has to mean swinging the rest of the community, but still. but at the very least he could have looked for counseling for him? tried to find a way to take some of the workload off his shoulders? given him some more time on assignments? motioning for all the clubs he was the president of to have co-presidents so he was less overwhelmed?

like there was just daodsao he could have done so many things and he justs DIDN'T he chose to not only punish him instead but quite literally THREATEN HIM WITH DEATH because that's what calling the police on a latino student over a drug charge is. like he might've survived but the possibility that he would fucking DIE was very much there, and i know choices didn't think of that because they'd rather die than think about the racial implications of anything but holy fucking shit. and im not even getting into how mr cooper is BLACK because then ill just start biting people like thanks for putting that threat on a black character's mouth choices. if u need me ill be foaming at the mouth

anyway SORRY god why is it that i always get to the salty part within 2 seconds of joining a fandom i promise that i actually like it lives and the way they handled most of their plot, i genuinely think it's a very well written and actually worth ur time story but i just doadosaida like i said particularly as a teacher in the context where i'm being taught, plus with all my political beliefs, i just can't let it go aaaa

also ty for telling me ur pronouns! idk if i assumed them at any time, i don't think so but i might have done so without realizing and if i did im really sorry. also sorry for the gigantic salty reply daojdsaojdaisjsajdoadsaodasj rip me i never shut up

[hxlcyon]

tagged by @delvalentine (absolutely affectionately) 🥺💕 thank you for the tag and the chance to ramble?? thank u vv much kdbchd ANYWAY ignore my far too long answers in the read below

Rules: Tag five followers you'd like to get to know better. i hope u know reading this made me snort cause ive been followed by over 60 porn bots in the past couple of weeks—i know who im gonna tag now /j

Nicknames: ammy, bazooka, su, sury, ray (i feel like i'm forgetting one but?? oh well)

Gender: nonbinary by all pronouns babbbyeee ✌️

Star Sign: capricorn!! ♑️

Sexuality: demi-pan

Hogwarts House: i hope u know this question took me the longest and i had to go through so many fuckin harry potter quizzes and all of them are either super fuckin like abcd or so v archetype specific that it made it unrelatable because why tf would having done a singular sport in the past put me in gryffindor or having a singular moral in hufflepuff—anyway probably slytherin or gryffindor ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Favorite Animals: HARD QUESTION..... HM... i really love beluga whales and emperor penguins!! BUT.. i've been thinking abt pandas sm like u wouldn't believe..! literally, i put on a panda zoo cam while i was stress writing for an assignment a couple of months ago and the absolute tranquility i felt.... effervescent 🐌

Average hours of sleep per night: my sleep schedule used to be really bad until a month ago when i started a strict routine. like... it used to be around 1 hour to 26 hours....... BUT!! now!! i get maybe about 6-8 hours of sleep each night (if i get less than 6 at this point ill just fall asleep standing jfc)!! my skin has never been better!! although, i really haven't had the chance to have dreams lately cause of that;;

Dogs or Cats: hurts... to admit it... after refusing to admit it for years.. but....... cats...... i'm so sorry fido, but i think i've just lost the energy to keep up with dogs haha

Number of Blankets: used to sleep with 5+ but it's too hot here so now i sleep with only 2 blankets—to be fair though?? one is a weighted heated blanket so it should count for a couple of extra blankets right?? anyway. my pillow count is over 20+ and i am constantly looking to expand my collection of soft, marshmallow plushes to sleep on

Dream Trip: wherever tf that one underwater hotel was where u can fall asleep looking at jellyfish with pretty blue lights and the inevitable fear of the glass walls of the hotel shattering under the pressure of the hotel's poor architecture

and also a hatsune miku concert tour

Dream Job: i simply do not dream of work. i feel like i answered this question b4 in a different tag meme but u know what?? i am consistent. i dream of no labor and a shitton of money. but also, i'd love to be a girlboss™ and yoshi-p by creating a product/game that people come to adore alongside a whole community to join my passion project

When I made this account: ?? after going through my tumblr anniversary/birthday emails, i think i made this account on Dec 15, 2014? not fully sure but i guess i never started posting until a year later on august 2015.

Why I made this account: honest to god i can't remember. who knows what i was doing at the ripe age of 11. i probably.. if i had to guess?? made it for my aesthetic/bookworm phase or my astrology phase? definitely something to do with wattpad or ifunny. probably. maybe.

taglist (feel free to do it only if u wanna!!): @leeleiloh @yearning-moon @amatxs @stinkiedinkiedoodles @pomkiri @spacecowkid

[edwad]

what do you think of Cuck Philsopy's youtube video "Marx was not a 'Statist'"

finally watched it after a couple people asked me to and I've got a couple thoughts.

first id say that the first 1/3ish of the video says nothing all that interesting to me since its stuff ive been saying a lot of this stuff for years. a part of me wishes it had continued being a boring video because that would mean id having nothing against it, but as it went i started having some issues. so here are my problems after that point:

CP says that “the” “marxist” “theory” of the state is one of instrumental class rule, and this is said with no hesitation. this position is historically stubborn but not exactly correct (or if it is, then it is damning to “marxists” -- one of the reasons why “je ne suis pas marxiste”). it completely ignores a number of state debates among marxists which begin with a critique of this exact theorization. 

the first point is related to the second, which is that CP definitely wants to treat lenin’s s&r as being identical to m&e’s conception with the only exception being the minor semantic difference of referring to the lower and higher phases of communism as socialism and communism. i definitely disagree with this and i think the remaining text of s&r (outside the quotes offered in the video) complicates this reading anyway.

one of the problems with lenin’s s&r, for the record, is the flattening down of m&e’s intellectual developments so that they appear more or less consistent throughout their entire lives, but also the reduction of one’s development to the other, so that marx & engels are treated as if they're the same person, as if marx hadn't explicitly made fun of their critics/reviewers for referring to the two of them “in the singular”. one of lenin’s more popular remarks is that marx’s “only correction” to the communist manifesto had to do with the nature of the state due to the experience of the paris commune. this comment alone obscures the great number of explicit and implicit criticisms of the ideas set out in the manifesto in the later works of m(&e), but CP picks it up uncritically. the overall treatment of marx’s work in the video continues similarly, pulling marx quotes out of time and place as if he (and, of course, engels) never changed their minds on anything until the paris commune, and even then, only on one relatively minor thing. 

all of this is pretty standard among a particular brand of left-communist (popular on twitter among #linegoesdown-types, where this video seems to be circulating), which would maybe more appropriately be called left-leninist since it’s really indebted to thinkers like bordiga and trotsky (not necessarily together), against stalin et al on the right, but this distancing from the alleged vulgarizers of lenin doesnt save them from accepting some of the vulgarities of leninism’s development (during and after lenin’s life). in particular, the commonly held soviet conception of a “socialist mode of production”, mentioned multiple times in the video, was intimately bound up with an uncritical adherence to the development of a “political economy of socialism”, where socialism (as its own societal stage of history) was expected to have its own economic laws like capitalism did and which needed to be understood by socialist economists. this view, canonized in orthodox marxist-leninist thought, flies in the face of marx’s critique of political economy, which goes unmentioned in the video, despite the fact that many of marx’s most important comments on the state and legal-form come from capital. unsurprisingly, this same problem exists in lenin’s s&r, where capital (the book) is routinely ignored, despite its importance even for soviet legal theorists like pashukanis (who, for the record, was ultimately executed for these views). 

all in all, i think its got a lot of problems even if i want to agree with the general argument. i *get* why it would be appealing to locate this non-“statist” attitude in lenin (and in some ways, i think there's more textual evidence for that than just what was quoted), but like marx and engels, lenin’s works are a bit more complicated than that and there are times, even within a single text, where the definitions change and the positions aren't held consistently, to say nothing of concrete historical developments. this makes it hard to draw these comparisons, but it also says next to nothing about marx’s own position, which is what the title of the video advertises.