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heaven help a fool who falls in love || alhaitham, kaveh, tartaglia, wanderer, zhongli
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alhaitham falls for your kindness and bravery- he finds both equally foolish traits, for they are traits that do not help anyone in the end, since they are as volatile as an architect he refuses to name, but when he is the recipient of said kindness and bravery? he has no answer to give. he sees your bravery in completing the most arduous tasks the Adventurers Guild can offer with devastating ease and your kindness in the distance. he sees more kindness in the space you give him when a certain task rubs him the wrong way and in the food you cook for him and the massages you offer him. he has tried so many times to leave you behind in the dust- he is not fit to be a lover, love does not come to him easily, but oh, you leave him weak in the knees and with a heart stuffed to burst, and despite his fears, he finds it hard to let go. 
kaveh falls for your carefree nature- you do not let life hurt you, despite bleeding so many times. If it were him, he would have screamed and cried, and cursed the gods over and over and over and over again until he bled to death. but you are not like that, he surmises when he sees you at Puspa Café, chirping happily like a Dusk Bird with Aether and Paimon. however, your nonchalance does not extend to peers you care about deeply, and somehow, that includes him. you are overly concerned for him, kaveh thinks, and you will only stand to get hurt. everyone has only ever gotten hurt, there has never been anything good for him. but all of that is lost when he sees you in the market, chatting happily and cheering on friends and acquaintances alike, and wonders if you'd do the same for him. 
tartaglia falls in love with your self-worth, or as most people call it, your arrogance. he knows better than to call it that, of course- as a soldier, it is important to be acknowledged for your efforts and rewarded for the pain you go through, and you, despite not being a soldier, demand that from your kith and kin. you would never have to demand it from him, tartaglia thinks as he sees you bow in thanks when the alchemist in inazuma lets you use the booth. you give as much respect as you are given, and that is the trait of a harbinger, a mastermind, no, the tsaritsa herself. such blasphemous thoughts should never be entertained, the delusion on his waist and his blood-red mask remind him, for who can be compared to the god of Cryo herself? she who has advanced snezhnaya and given him a home? but you too, have given him a home, he argues back, his delusion glowing a faint purple, mocking him silently. he attempts to avoid you, running in the other direction when he sees the ends of your hair shine in the sun- until you make your way to him one day, and ask why he'd been avoiding you. maybe the goddess of love would forgive his blasphemy, tartaglia thinks as he cooks up an apology, satisfying you with his silver tongue.
wanderer falls in love with your honesty- you tell him, the scorned one of the Vahumana darshan, about his attitude and how it hurts people, about his apparent good looks, about his intelligence and wisdom, all compliments and insults to which he responds with a scoff. a mere child should not be able to affect him this way, so why does his lead heart stir so uncomfortably when he sees you with your friends, running across darshans to attend madam faruzan or tighnari's lectures? you wish him a good morning, treat him just as horribly as he treats you that day, and have an infuriatingly large amount of self-respect- and he loves you for that. you do not judge him for his past, just his present, and just the 24 hours that reset every day. after everything he had done, everything that had happened to him, he supposes he can let you in, but he could never lie to you, so wait for him until he is honest, please.
zhongli falls in love with your wisdom. no, you would not normally be considered wise, in the typical sense, for your hair is not yet grey, and you do not have wrinkles or crows feet that symbolise a long life well-lived. no, your wisdom shines in the way you treat the people around you, interacting with them with due respect and kindness, with an extra dose of patience for the children. and he fears this flutter in his heart and skip of the beat when he sees you smile. he was never meant to be at peace or be happy, after all. but you draw him in, gently and with open arms, calming like the ocean that draws the sand in and he cannot help but drown in you, your wisdom and inherent sense of understanding comforting him more than his allies who lived and died and fought for him through the archon war and the war against khaenri'ah. maybe one day, he would reveal to you who he truly is, and maybe, he hopes silently, you would love him even then.
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another repost lolol (from my old account @.ameleii)
© leichor 2024.
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16woodsequ · 8 months
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100 Asexual Books Rec List
For this list the goal is fiction books with a main character or significant secondary character that is on the Asexual spectrum, or non-fiction books about being Aspec.
Junior Novels
1. Rick by Alex Gino An eleven year old boy starting middle school begins discovering his asexuality admist the school's rainbow spectrum club. Also features transgender and crossdressing side characters, as well as a LGBTQIAP+ supporting cast.
2. Sal & Gabi Break the Universe by Carlos Alberto Pablo Hernandez In order to heal after his mother's death, Sal learned how to meditate. But no one expected him to be able to take it further and 'relax' things into existence. Turns out he can reach into time and space to retrieve things from other universes. Asexual Sal.
3. Hazel's Theory of Evolution by Lisa Jenn Bigelow Hazel knows a lot about the world. But even Hazel doesn't have answers for the questions awaiting her as she enters eighth grade. What if no one at her new school gets her, and she doesn't make any friends? What's going to happen to one of her moms, who's pregnant again after having two miscarriages? Why does everything have to change when life was already perfectly fine? Hazel (main character) is asexual and aromantic (it isn't said in the book, but it is specified in the author's note at the back of the book).
4. The Trouble with Robots by Michelle Mohrweis Evelyn strives for excellence. Allie couldn't care less. Together, these polar opposites must work together if they have any hope of saving their school's robotics program. Allie is asexual and/or aromantic. Junior graphic novel.
5. This is Our Rainbow by Editors Katherine Locke and Nicole Melleby Featuring contributions from Eric Bell, Katherine Locke and A.J. Sass, this first LGBTQA+ anthology for middle-grade readers presents stories of queer fantasy, historical and contemporary stories for every letter of the acronym.
6. Every Bird a Prince by Jenn Reese After she saves the life of a bird prince and becomes their champion, seventh grader Eren Evers must defend a forest kingdom, save her mom, and keep the friendships she holds dear--if she is brave enough to embrace her inner truths. Eren is aromantic (and I'm guessing asexual, though that isn't discussed).
YA Fiction
7. When Villains Rise by Rebecca Schaeffer With her best friend, Kovit's, life in danger, Nita is determined to take down the black market once and for all. Latina asexual and aromantic main character (Nita).
8. The Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee Henry "Monty" Montague was bred to be a gentleman. His passions for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men, have earned the disapproval of his father. His quest for pleasures and vices have led to one last hedonistic hurrah as Monty, his best friend and crush Percy, and Monty's sister Felicity begin a Grand Tour of Europe. When a reckless decision turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt, it calls into question everything Monty knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores. Aro/ace secondary character (prequel to a Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy).
9. The Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee A year after an accidentally whirlwind grand tour with her brother Monty, Felicity Montague has returned to England with two goals in mind—avoid the marriage proposal of a lovestruck suitor from Edinburgh and enroll in medical school. A highly loved book in regards to asexual portrayal, Felicity’s journey does a fantastic job of exploring the struggle of navigating a world where marriage is expected of women in order to function in society. Even more refreshing is Felicity isn’t just avoiding getting married out of a sole rebellion against the patriarchy (though those themes are also present), but simply because she doesn’t have an interest in sexual or romantic relationships at all.
10. Silver in the Mist by Emily Victoria Asexual Devlin has grown up in the shadow of her mother’s impressive spy network—and the shadow of the kingdom, too. A magical mist is eating away at their borders, weakening their magic and making them vulnerable to attacks. Devlin is tasked with infiltrating the royal court of the wealthier neighboring kingdom, but when she befriends their most powerful magic wielder, she discovers an ancient mystery that may hold the key to defeating the mists for good. Victoria prioritizes strong friendships between queer characters and an examination of wealth disparity in this fantasy full of twists and turns.
11. Not Good for Maidens by Tori Bovalino Beneath the streets of York, the goblin market calls to the Wickett women-the family of witches that tends to its victims. For generations, they have defended the old cobblestone streets with their magic. Knowing the dangers, they never entered the market-until May Wickett fell for a goblin girl, accepted her invitation, and became inextricably tied to the world her family tried to protect her from. Told through dual narratives in different timelines, the book essentially has two protagonists: Lou and May. Between these two characters, we have some great queer representation for both asexuality and bisexuality.
12. A Snake Falls to Earth by Darcie Little Badger Themes of magic, family, asexuality, and traditional storytelling dominate in Lipan Apache author Darcie Little Badger's delightful and uplifting second YA novel. A Lipan girl named Nina collides with Oli who is from the land of spirits and monsters. But some people will do anything to keep them apart. This is a wholesome, elegantly written read guaranteed to warm your heart! 
13. Arden Grey by Ray Stoeve Arden Grey is a novel about different kinds of abusive relationships, as well as the strength of family and friendships. Following her parents' separation, Arden is depressed and coming to accept herself as being on the asexual spectrum.
14. It Sounds Like This by Anna Meriano Yasm Trevi didn't have much of a freshman year thanks to Hurricane Humphrey, but she's ready to take sophomore year by storm. That means mastering the marching side of marching band--fast!--so she can outshine her BFF Sofia as top of the flute section, earn first chair, and impress both her future college admission boards and her comfortably unattainable drum major crush Gilberto Reyes. But Yasm steps off on the wrong foot when she reports an anonymous gossip Instagram account harassing new band members and accidentally gets the entire low brass section suspended from extracurriculars. Rep: Biracial Latina fat asexual-questioning cis female MC, Jewish gray-aromantic gray-asexual male side character with ADHD and APD.
15. One for All by Lillie Lainoff In 1655 sixteen-year-old Tania is the daughter of a retired musketeer, but she is afflicted with extreme vertigo and subject to frequent falls; when her father is murdered she finds that he has arranged for her to attend Madame de Treville's newly formed Acadaemie des Mariées in Paris, which, it turns out, is less a school for would-be wives, than a fencing academy for girls--and so Tania begins her training to be a new kind of musketeer, and to get revenge for her father. Rep: disability, asexuality, sapphic side characters, POTS and PTSD.
16. The State of Us by Shaun David Hutchinson When Dean Arnault’s mother decided to run for president, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone, least of all her son. But still that doesn’t mean Dean wants to be part of the public spectacle that is the race for the White House—at least not until he meets Dre. The only problem is that Dre Rosario’s on the opposition; he’s the son of the Democratic nominee. In a moment of solidarity and high emotions, Dean tells Dre that he has been questioning his sexual orientation. He isn’t sure if he’s asexual or demisexual. Dre puts a messaging app on Dean’s phone so they can stay in touch.
17. Scavenge the Stars by Tara Sim When Amaya rescues a mysterious stranger from drowning, she fears her rash actions have earned her a longer sentence on the debtor ship where she’s been held captive for years. Instead, the man she saved offers her unimaginable riches and a new identity, setting Amaya on a perilous course through the coastal city-state of Moray, where old-world opulence and desperate gamblers collide. Amaya wants one thing: revenge against the man who ruined her family and stole the life she once had. Desi, demisexual female protagonist. 
18. Camp by Lev AC Rosen It’s Randy’s fifth year at Camp Outland, a camp where queer teens get a chance to be themselves. Hoping to win over Hudson’s heart—who’s masc and straight passing and only seems to date other guys like himself—Randy has spent the past year reinventing himself: workout regimen, new haircut, new carefully curated wardrobe. His friends and camp counsellor all think it’s a terrible idea, but what can they do but support him anyways?
19. Little Thieves by Margaret Owen Once upon a time, the daughter of death and fortune was a teenage girl and she was the worst. Little Thieves is, as the dedication says, for the gremlin girls, never has there been a more gremlin girl than Vanja Schmidt. A brilliant and brazen swindler, Vanja could give Kaz Brekker a run for his money. But Vanja has bigger fish to fry. As her body rapidly turns into the gemstones she craves, Vanja must put things right and face her greed head on all while juggling her engagement to a terrible margrave, an investigator with his own magic, and the princess whose face she stole. Vanja’s relationship with junior prefect Emeric could not be more demisexual if it tried, with both sides of the romance experiencing asexual spectrum existence in different and complimentary ways. One part Germanic fairytale, one part ensemble heist, Little Thieves is an unhinged romp of a book.
20. Everyone Hates Kelsie Miller by Meredith Ireland Rom-coms and the asexuality spectrum...two great things that go great together. Kelsie and Eric have been competing against each other their whole lives. But desperation forces them to work together. Kelsie’s best friend stopped talking to her and Eric wants to rekindle his relationship with his ex-girlfriend, and since both will be at UPenn at the same time, Eric and Kelsie decide to go on a road trip together. Sparks fly.
21. You Don't Have a Shot by Racquel Marie Valentina "Vale" Castillo-Green's life revolves around soccer. Her friends, her future, and her father's intense expectations are all wrapped up in the beautiful game. But after she incites a fight during playoffs with her long-time rival, Leticia Ortiz, everything she's been working toward seems to disappear. Queer asexual biracial (Colombian, Irish) protagonist.
22. Foul Lady Fortune by Chloe Gong In 1931 Shanghai, two Nationalist spies pose as a married couple to investigate a series of brutal murders causing unrest in the city. Rep: demisexual Chinese protagonist, bisexual Chinese protagonist, bisexual Chinese main character, Chinese trans woman main character, aromantic asexual side character; (Chinese-Kiwi author).
23. The Spy with the Red Ballon by Katherine Locke Siblings Ilse and Wolf hide a deep secret in their blood: with it, they can work magic. And the government just found out. Blackmailed into service during World War II, Ilse lends her magic to America’s newest weapon, the atom bomb, while Wolf goes behind enemy lines to sabotage Germany’s nuclear program. It’s a dangerous mission, but if Hitler were to create the bomb first, the results would be catastrophic. Gay demisexual Jewish protagonist.
24. Beneath the Citadel by Destiny Soria Cassa, the orphaned daughter of rebels, and friends Alys, Evander, and Newt, fight back against the high council of Eldra, which has ruled for centuries based solely on ancient prophesies. Alys, an apothecary-in-training and the level-headed one of the crew. She identifies as asexual.
25. Eliza and Her Monsters by Francesca Zappia Eighteen-year-old Eliza Mirk is the anonymous creator of the wildly popular webcomic Monstrous Sea, but when a new boy at school tempts her to live a life offline, everything she's worked for begins to crumble. Asexual main character, not explicitly stated in the book.
26. Technically, You Started It by Lana Wood Johnson When a guy named Martin Nathaniel Munroe II texts you, it should be obvious who you're talking to. Except there's two of them (it's a long story), and Haley thinks she's talking to the one she doesn't hate. Demisexual main character.
27. Now Entering Addamsville by Francesca Zappia Zora Novak is framed for a crime she didn't commit--in a town obsessed with ghosts, will she be able to find the culprit and clear her name before it's too late? It's a brief mention, but Zora is ace.
28. Fully Disclosure by Camryn Garrett In a community that isn’t always understanding, an HIV-positive teen must navigate fear, disclosure, and radical self-acceptance when she falls in love–and lust–for the first time. One of Simone’s best friends in the book, Claudia, is an asexual lesbian. The unwavering support she gives to Simone is heartwarming, and she is also openly sex-positive—which flips the script on its head regarding what most people would assume of asexual people.
30. The Art of Saving the World by Corinne Duyvis When Hazel Stanczak was born, an interdimensional rift tore open near her family’s home, which prompted immediate government attention. They soon learned that if Hazel strayed too far, the rift would become volatile and fling things from other dimensions onto their front lawn—or it could swallow up their whole town. Hazel Stanczak identifies as asexual, though she spends time in the book questioning it. The book presents a unique way to show that there is not one single way to be asexual—that it exists on a spectrum and can look different for each person.
31. Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann Alice had her whole summer planned. Non-stop all-you-can-eat buffets while marathoning her favorite TV shows (best friends totally included) with the smallest dash of adulting–working at the library to pay her share of the rent. The only thing missing from her perfect plan? Her girlfriend (who ended things when Alice confessed she’s asexual). Alice is done with dating–no thank you, do not pass go, stick a fork in her, done. Alice is a biromantic and asexual black woman who starts off very confident in her identity as asexual, yet has experiences that have her questioning her orientation and how to talk about it.
32. In the Ravenous Dark by AdriAnne Strickland A pansexual blood mage reluctantly teams up with an undead spirit to start a rebellion among the living and the dead. This book features Japha, an asexual nonbinary character who serves as the best friend to the MC.
33. Seven Ways We Lie by Riley Redgate Life at Paloma High School is much like any other high school, with petty drama, judgmental assholes, and mind-numbing schoolwork. Until it isn’t. A scandal emerges: a student and teacher had an illicit affair. At the center of the scandal are seven teenagers, each with their own secrets, whose lives are transformed as a result of this scandal. One of the characters can be read as asexual (and possibly neurodiverse). He never explicitly labels himself as such, but the way he describes his experiences of [non-]attraction strongly point to him being on the ace spectrum.
34. Quicksilver by R. J. Anderson Tori thought she had left her past behind when she and her family started a new life in a new city. But then Sebastian Faraday reappears in her life to tell her that she’s not quite as safe as she thinks: the relay is still operating and a genetics lab is trying to track her down to figure out the secret behind her unusual biology. Tori is going to have to use all of her considerable technical expertise to escape her past and live the normal human life she’s always wanted to have. Asexual main character.
35. Hullmetal Girls by Emily Skrutskie Aisha Un-Haad, seventeen, and Key Tanaka, eighteen, have risked everything for new lives as mechanically enhanced soldiers, and when an insurrection forces dark secrets to surface, the fate of humanity is in their hands. In Hullmetal Girls, Aisha is not only ace/aro but she is also happy with her identity. Crucially, so is everyone else.
36. Not Even Bones by Rebecca Schaeffer Nita's mother hunts monsters and, after Nita dissects and packages them, sells them online, but when Nita follows her conscience to help a live monster escape, she is sold on the black market in his place. Aro/Ace main character
37. Before I Let Go by Marieke Nijkamp When Corey moves away from Lost Creek, Alaska, she makes her friend Kyra promise to stay strong during the long, dark winter, and wait for her return. Just days before Corey is to return home to visit, Kyra dies. The entire Lost community speaks in hushed tones, saying her death was meant to be. And they push Corey away like she's a stranger. With every hour, Corey's suspicion grows. Lost is keeping secrets-- but piecing together the truth about what happened to her best friend may prove as difficult as lighting the sky in an Alaskan winter. Aro/Ace main character.
38. If It Makes You Happy by Claire Kann Winnie is living her best fat girl life and is on her way to the best place on earth. No, not Disneyland–her Granny’s diner, Goldeen’s, in the small town of Misty Haven. While there, she works in her fabulous 50’s inspired uniform, twirling around the diner floor and earning an obscene amount of tips. With her family and ungirlfriend at her side, she has everything she needs for one last perfect summer before starting college in the fall. …until she becomes Misty Haven’s Summer Queen in a highly anticipated matchmaking tradition that she wants absolutely nothing to do with. Aro/ace secondary character.
39. Dread Nation by Justina Ireland An alternate history where the Civil War was put on hold when zombies started to rise. Almost finished with her education at Miss Preston's School of Combat in Baltimore, Jane is set on returning to her Kentucky home and doesn't pay much mind to the politics of the eastern cities, with their talk of returning America to the glory of its days before the dead rose.But when families around Baltimore County begin to go missing, Jane is caught in the middle of a conspiracy, one that finds her in a desperate fight for her life against some powerful enemies. And the restless dead, it would seem, are the least of her problems. The word asexual is not used, but that fits with the setting, and the explanation goes into a fair amount of detail, also ruling out that she likes women instead.
40. Vespertine by Margaret Rogerson When her convent is attacked by possessed soldiers, Artemisia defends the Gray Sisters by awakening the revenant bound to a saint's relic, even though she runs the risk of being possessed permanently by the powerful ancient spirit. Non-explicit romantic asexual main character. Fantasy.
41. Archivist Wasp by Nicole Kornher-Stace A postapocalyptic ghosthunter escapes her dire fate by joining the ghost of a supersoldier on his quest to the underworld Aromantic asexual main character. Dark fantasy/dystopian.
42. Summer of Salt by Katrina Leno While anyone would love to have a bit of magic, what happens when magic turns dark? Georgina Fernweh will come into her magic someday soon. Before she does, Georgina faces a tragedy that tests the islanders' trust. In this book, Georgina’s best friend Vira is aroace, and it’s addressed somewhat in the story at different points. There is a sweet strength between Georgina and Vira, full of loyalty and support that is lovely to see.
43. The Summer of Bitter and Sweet by Jen Ferguson In this moving and complex narrative, Lou learns to draw boundaries, stand up for herself, all while coming to terms with her demisexuality.
44. The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow One-third of the human population has died and now the world is about to end. Ellie, a fat, Black, disabled, demisexual girl with access to an illegal library teams up with a music-loving alien to risk their lives to save the world.
45. The Grimrose Girls by Laura Pohl Pohl serves up a veritable smorgasbord of queer fairytale goodies in Grimrose Girls. This tale as old as time follows four students at the prestigious boarding school Grimrose Academy—Ella, Yuki, Rory, and newcomer Nani. When the former three’s best friend dies, all four girls are swept up in a dark and twisted mystery full of old fairytale magic. They must work together to unravel the secrets between them and break an ancient curse that dooms them to a fairytale ending (and not the fun kind). Yuki’s aromantic asexual identity is explored in her relationship to expectations, beauty, and friendship throughout the novel.
46. Radio Silence by Alice Oseman Frances has been a study machine with one goal. Nothing will stand in her way; not friends, not a guilty secret – not even the person she is on the inside. Then Frances meets Aled, and for the first time, she’s unafraid to be herself. So when the fragile trust between them is broken, Frances is caught between who she was and who she longs to be. In this book, Aled identifies as demisexual while Frances identifies as bisexual. The story really pays homage to the importance of friendship, and romantic storylines move to the background in a way we don’t often get in YA literature.
47. This Golden Flame by Emily Victoria Forced to serve her country’s ruling group, Karis wants nothing more than to find her brother. But family bonds don’t matter to the sole focus of unlocking the magic of an ancient automaton army. Karis is ace and other LGBTQ+ characters are introduced throughout.
48. Sawkill Girls by Claire Legrand A horror novel centered around three girls facing off against an unseen monster that preys upon the young women of the island of Sawkill Rock. Features a black asexual girl fresh out of a romantic relationship, as well as a f/f relationship.
49. Love Letters for Joy by Melissa See Less than a year away from graduation, seventeen-year-old Joy is too busy overachieving to be worried about relationships. She’s determined to be Caldwell Prep’s first disabled valedictorian. And she only has one person to beat, her academic rival Nathaniel. But it’s senior year and everyone seems to be obsessed with pairing up. One of her best friends may be developing feelings for her and the other uses Caldwell’s anonymous love-letter writer to snag the girl of her dreams. Joy starts to wonder if she has missed out on a quintessential high school experience. She is asexual, but that’s no reason she can’t experience first love, right?
50. Not Your Backup by C. B. Lee Part 3 in the Sidekick Squad series by C.B. Lee. Follows a questioning aromantic asexual latinx superhero sidekick fighting to prove her worth on the team despite her lack of superpowers, all admist the team's battle against the corrupt League of Heroes.
51. Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller Noble-born Emilie des Marais, 16, wants to become a physician, a role usually forbidden women of her class because of the corruptive toll the magical "noonday arts" exact. Common-born Annette Boucher wants to escape her domineering parents and master the less physically costly "midnight arts" of illusions, divination, and scrying, normally reserved for those who can afford the expensive education. At Emilie's urging, each girl takes the other's place. Miller (Ruin of Stars) writes in lush, dense prose that can require a careful read, but her protagonists' awareness of privilege and desire to challenge the status quo shines through. LGBTQ representation--including gay, trans, and nonbinary characters (Annette identifies as asexual biromantic)--further widens this tale's appeal.
52. Tarnished Are the Stars by Rosiee Thor A secret beats inside Anna Thatcher's chest: an illegal clockwork heart. Anna works cog by cog -- donning the moniker Technician -- to supply black market medical technology to the sick and injured, against the Commissioner's tyrannical laws. Determined to earn his father's respect, Nathaniel sets out to capture the Technician. But the more he learns about the outlaw, the more he questions whether his father's elusive affection is worth chasing at all. This YA novel features an aroace character gradually coming to accept his orientation in the midst of everything else that is happening in his life. Perfect for older teens who also enjoy WLW representation and dark themes.
53. Aces Wild: A Heist by Amanda DeWitt An all-asexual online friend group attempts to break into a high-stakes gambling club and commit a heist together. Includes a male asexual character navigating what love looks like for him, an aromantic asexual Latinx gender-nonconforming boy, a Vietnamese American and German asexual nonbinary teen, and a black asexual girl.
54. Planning Perfect by Haley Neil Summer vacation quickly becomes complicated for Felicity Becker as she tries to plan a perfect wedding for her mom, figure out her feelings for her friend Nancy, and wonder what dating will look like for her as an asexual person.
55. Ace of Hearts by Myriad Augustine Everyone around Alvin seems to be obsessed with one thing-- sex. Alvin finds it uncomfortable to think and talk about it and he knows he isn't ready and may never be. His friends, however, think that all Alvin needs is to hook up with the right guy. But the closer Alvin gets to being physical with someone, the more he's uncertain that this is for him and he begins to wonder if he's asexual. Can Alvin find the love that's right for him?
56. Beyond the Black Door by AdriAnne Strickland Everyone has a soul. Some are beautiful gardens, others are frightening dungeons. Kamia comes to know more about her identity as she decides to battle the forces of evil, no matter the cost... Asexual and demi-romantic main characters. Dark fantasy. Kamai is asexual, but isn’t aromantic—she has an interest in relationships that isn’t always depicted for those who are ace.
57. Loveless by Alice Oseman A queer coming of age story featuring a romance obsessed aromantic asexual main character discovering her sexuality and coming to terms with what that means, and a variety of other queer characters that support her on her journey.
58. Summer Bird Blue by Akemi Dawn Bowman Rumi Seto spends a lot of time worrying she doesn’t have the answers to everything. What to eat, where to go, whom to love. But there is one thing she is absolutely sure of—she wants to spend the rest of her life writing music with her younger sister, Lea. Then Lea dies in a car accident, and her mother sends her away to live with her aunt in Hawaii while she deals with her own grief. While not the main focal point of the book, Rumi does grapple throughout the story about where exactly she lands on the ace and aro spectrum—and whether she has to label herself at all.
59. Meet Cute Diary by Emery Lee In this queer rom-com, a transgender teen must decide if he's dedicated to romantic formulas or open to unpredictable love after an internet troll attack on his blog compels him and a fan to start fake-dating. Through an unlikely friendship with sweet, grounded Devin, who is Cuban American, asexual, and experimenting with pronouns, Noah--initially self-centered and standoffish--learns to value communication and empathy.
60. The Reckless Kind by Carly Heath In 1904 Norway, Asta runs away from her horrible fiancé to live with her two best friends. The three misfits set out to win the annual Christmas sleigh race to prove that they belong together. Queer asexual hard of hearing protagonist with heterochromia of Norwegian descent.
61. Forward March by Skye Quinlan How can band geek Harper have the chance of becoming the First Daughter with a fake dating profile? However, Harper does know that the drumline leader swiped right. Come along with Harper as she explores her truth during her last year of high school. Asexual-questioning cis female MC with anxiety and asthma.
62. Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger What if America had monsters, magic, and interdimensional beings? For Elatsoe, this is real, and she has to uncover her cousin's murder! She can do this with the help of her ghost dog, Kirby, but has to remember not to wake human ghosts. Aromantic ace main character. Paranormal mystery. Casual representation which extends to Ellie’s identity as Lipan Apache. This identity is asserted more often and firmly than her asexuality, and Little Badger drops in nuggets of education for us settlers about what Indigenous people, and the Lipan Apache in particular, suffered at the hands of settlers.
63. All Out: The No-Longer-Secret Stories of Queer Teens Throughout the Ages by Editor Robin Talley A collection of short fantasy stories, featuring a variety of queer characters across multiple sexualities and genders. Features an asexual roller-skating girl from the 70s struggling to explain her identity to her crush.
64. Black Wings Beating by Alex London Twins Brysen and Kylee live in a world that revers the power of the falconers, but in a world where war approaches, they aren’t safe. Hunted for their power, they work together to trap the Ghost Eagle. Kylee is an ace character, focused on protecting her brother.
Graphic Novels
65. A-okay by Jarad Greene Eight grade can be tough, especially if you have acne and bullies, and lose friends. But our relatable asexual and aromantic protagonist, Jay, pulls through. This is a relatable memoir with colorful artwork.
66. How to Be Ace: A Memoir of Growing up Asexual by Rebecca Burgess A comic memoir detailing the author Rebecca Burgess's experience with growing up asexual in a world obsessed with sex. Also talks about her experiences with her own mental health and OCD.
67. Jughead, Volume 1 by Chip Zdarsky A comic book reboot of the Archie comics centered around Jughead Jones. Follows an aromantic asexual main character in typical Archie-style shenanigans. Part 1 of a 3 part series.
68. A Quick & Easy Guide to Asexuality by Molly Muldoon A charming introduction to asexuality, created to shed light on the misconceptions surrounding sex and being asexual. Told by writer Molly Muldoon and cartoonist Will Hernandez, both on the asexual spectrum.
69. Is Love the Answer? by Isaki Uta A poignant coming-of-age story about a young woman coming into her own as she discovers her identity as aromantic asexual. A complete story in a single volume, from the creator of "Mine-kun is Asexual."
Domestic Fiction
70. Have You Seen Luis Velez by Catherine Ryan Hyde Raymond Jaffe feels like he doesn't belong. Not with his mother's new family. Not as a weekend guest with his father and his father's wife. Not at school, where he's an outcast. After his best friend moves away, Raymond has only two real connections: to the feral cat he's tamed and to a blind ninety-two-year-old woman in his building who's introduced herself with a curious question: Have you seen Luis Velez? Mildred Gutermann, a German Jew who narrowly escaped the Holocaust, has been alone since her caretaker disappeared. She turns to Raymond for help, and as he tries to track Luis down, a deep and unexpected friendship blossoms between the two. Raymond is asexual (to be precise, he is aroace) And he is depicted as kind, loving, sensitive and realistic.
Fantasy
71. In the Lives of the Puppets by TJ Klune In a strange little home built into the branches of a grove of trees, live three robots--fatherly inventor android Giovanni Lawson, a pleasantly sadistic nurse machine, and a small vacuum desperate for love and attention. Victor Lawson, a human, lives there too. They're a family, hidden and safe. Protagonist: Vic, A curious, loving, & asexual human.
72. The Bone Season by Samantha Shannon In the mid-21st century major world cities are controlled by a formidable security force and clairvoyant underworld cell member Paige commits acts of psychic treason before being captured by an otherworldly race that would make her a part of their supernatural army. Demisexual main character.
73. The Perfect Assassin by K.A. Doore Divine justice is written in blood. Or so Amastan has been taught. As a new assassin in the Basbowen family, he's already having second thoughts about taking a life. A scarcity of contracts ends up being just what he needs. Until, unexpectedly, Amastan finds the body of a very important drum chief. Until, inevitably, Amastan is ordered to solve these murders, before the family gets blamed. Amastan is asexual and, as it turns out, homoromantic.
74. The Bruising of Quilwa by Naseem Jamnia Firuz-e Jafari was able to escape the slaughter of traditional blood magic practitioners by immigrating to the city-state of Qilwa. But now a terrible disease is spreading through the city, and Firuz believes it comes from ineptly performed blood magic. Now they must find a way to break a cycle of prejudice in order to survive. From the author: it's about an aroace nonbinary refugee healer who is trying to cure a magical plague in their new home while hiding their blood magic.
75. The Midnight Bargain by C. L. Polk The Midnight Bargain is a story "set in a world reminiscent of Regency England, where women's magic is taken from them when they marry. A sorceress must balance her desire to become the first great female magician against her duty to her family. Ysbeta has a clear goal for her life: to discover and share magic. Besides loving learning for its own sake, Ysbeta is asexual, and wealthy in her own right, so the bargaining season offers her literally nothing.
76. Every Heart A Doorway by Seanan McGuire Set in a world where a group of children have the ability to find and enter doorways into magical worlds, and now must find who's targetting them for this ability. Lead by an female asexual main character, with a trans love interest. First book in a series of novellas.
Science Fiction
77. The First Sister by Linden A. Lewis She's a priestess of the Sisterhood, traveling the stars alongside the soldiers of Earth who own the rights to her body and soul. When her former captain abandons her, First Sister's hopes for freedom are dashed and she is forced to stay on her ship with no friends, no status, and a new captain she knows nothing about. When the Mother, leader of her order, asks her to spy on Captain Saito Ren, First Sister discovers that sacrificing for the war effort is so much harder to do when your loyalties are split. He climbed his way out of the slums to become an elite soldier of Venus, but now he's haunted by his failures and the loss of his partner Hiro. But when Lito learns that Hiro is alive, but a traitor, and he's assigned to hunt Hiro down, and kill them, Lito must decide what he is actually fighting for - the society that raised him, or himself. As the battle to control Ceres reaches a head, Lito and First Sister must decide what - and whom - they are willing to sacrifice in the name of duty, or for love. Hispanic panromantic asexual protagonist (Lito).
78. Firebreak by Nicole Kornher-Stace Mal is one of many war survivors in the old town working multiple jobs to scrimp by, one of which is her team's streaming video game play. The team lives with several other roommates in a converted hotel room run by Stellaxis, the company that owns half of town, and is the only legal provider of drinkable water. When Mal catches sight of an elusive SecOps character, special non-player characters (NPCs) modeled after Stellaxis' twelve bioengineered operatives, the team pursues her inside the game to catch her on video for two seconds before their power curfew kicks in. By the time Mal heads down for her daily ration of water, they've secured a lucrative contract, involving an in-person meeting and a conspiracy theory, paying them to capture images of the three living SecOps characters. When Mal returns to find out why the next payment failed, she becomes involved in a fracas that will endanger everyone she knows. Aroace main character.
79. To be Taught, If Fortunate by Becky Chambers Four astronauts set out to explore the galaxy. This journey spans centuries and many worlds. A thought provoking read that explores the themes of loneliness and sense of purpose. Excellent cast of diverse characters and vivid world building. Chikondi is asexual and the text is careful to note that his relationship to the protagonist is no less emotional or vital than those she shares with people she is sexually involved with.
80. The Circus Infinite by Khan Wong What better person to take down a crime boss than a mixed-species fugitive! Join Jes on this exciting tale of espionage, torture, demolition. Sex-averse panromantic asexual lead character
Historical Fiction
81. Kaikeyi by Vasihnavi Patel The only daughter of the kingdom of Kekaya, she is raised on grand stories about the might and benevolence of the gods. Yet she watches as her father unceremoniously banishes her mother, her own worth measured by how great a marriage alliance she can secure. And when she calls upon the gods for help, they never seem to hear. Desperate for some measure of independence, she turns to the ancient texts she once read with her mother and discovers a magic that is hers alone. Kaikeyi is asexual and aromantic. Although the words "asexual" and "aromantic" aren't used in the book.
Western
82. The Complete Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone Chronicles by L. C. Mawson If you’re looking for steampunk magic, the Lady Ruth Constance Chapelstone novellas are the place for you. Read them individually or all together in this compendium. Chapelstone is interested in her inventions, not love and romance.
Paranormal
83. The Faceless Old Woman Who Secretly Lives in Your Homes by Joseph Fink Told in a series of eerie flashbacks, the story of The Faceless Old Woman goes back centuries to reveal an initially blissful and then tragic childhood on a Mediterranean Estate in the early nineteenth century, her rise in the criminal underworld of Europe, a nautical adventure with a mysterious organization of smugglers, her plot for revenge on the ones who betrayed her, and ultimately her death and its aftermath, as her spirit travels the world for decades until settling in modern-day Night Vale. Asexual secondary character.
Romance  
84. All the Wrong Places by Ann Gallagher After his three ex-girlfriends in a row leave Brennan because he's not fulfilling their sexual needs, he seeks out advice from Zafir, the owner of a sex shop. Zafir introduces Brennan to the concept of asexuality and slowly something more blossoms between them.
85. That Kind of Guy by Talia Hibbert Rae needs a fake date to take to her ex's wedding and convinces Zach, a close friend who has recently discovered that he is demisexual, to play along.
86. The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood In an attempt to convince her best friend that she really is over her ex-boyfriend, grad-student Olive panic kisses stern associate professor Adam in the hallway. (Olive is coded as demisexual/graysexual, but that label is never used in the book).
87. Far From Home by Lorelie Brown The oddest of odd couples finds unexpected joy in Brown’s warm, sweet contemporary romance. American citizen Rachel, a not-quite-asexual assistant film producer struggling to make a living in L.A., is drowning in student debt; Indian immigrant Pari Sadashiv, a lesbian logistics manager, needs a U.S. green card to advance her career. When Rachel offers to marry Pari in exchange for funds, it’s just party banter at first—but what’s to stop them from crafting a friendship with legal and financial benefits? Their platonic plans quickly go awry as Pari’s mother moves in to help plan the wedding, forcing them to live their lie. As Rachel feels herself awakening to an attraction she didn’t even know was possible, Pari has to decide whether she can live with the possible fallout of Rachel’s tentative first foray into same-sex love.
88. Kiss Her Once for Me by Alison Cochrun Last Christmas, Ellie met Jack in Powell’s when they both went for a copy of Alison Bechdel’s Fun Home, and over a cute argument over “shared custody”, and Jack poking gentle fun at Ellie (who had been crying alone and talking to a footstool as if it were her friend) they start to bond. Jack asks Ellie for coffee, and then they end up spending the whole day together. This is a big deal for Ellie, who is demisexual, and rarely develops attractions to anyone. And then Jack breaks her heart. Fast-forward to this Christmas when Andrew, the landlord who owns the building she works in, asks her to fake-marry him so he can access his inheritance, and shenanigans lead to her agreeing to this and to going home with him for Christmas, and surprise! Jack is Andrew’s sister.
89. The Charm Offensive by Alison Cochrun Tech wunderkind Charlie has never really been interested in dating, but agrees to join the cast of reality show 'Ever After.' While there he finds himself charmed by his producer, Dev, and questioning his sexuality. The Charm Offensive includes a conversation discussing asexuality and its spectrum.
90. Never Been Kissed by Timothy Janovsky Wren Roland has never been kissed, but he wants that movie-perfect ending more than anything. Thanks to Mateo’s boyfriend, he learns about demisexuality and realizes that when he came out as gay, he had not finished realizing truths about himself and intimate relationships.
91. How to be a Normal Person by TJ Klune Before The House on the Cerulean Sea blew up, Klune wrote this quirky and delightful story of two asexual people finding each other and their happily ever after.
92. Soft on Soft by Mina Waheed This super sweet, low-angst romance centers on two fat, queer women of colour (one Black and one Persian-Arab) who fall in love and find their happy ending with hardly any drama. There’s also anxiety representation. It’s just pure fluffy romance goodness. Demisexual protagonist.
Non-Fiction
93. Ace and Aro Journeys: A Guide to Embracing your Asexual or Aromantic Identity by The Ace and Aro Advocacy Project What does it mean to be ace or aro? How should I approach the challenges that come with being ace or aro? How can I best support the ace and aro people in my life? Join the The Ace and Aro Advocacy Project (TAAAP) for a deep dive into the process of discovering and embracing your ace and aro identities. Empower yourself to explore the nuances of your identity, find and develop support networks, explore different kinds of partnership, come out to your communities and find real joy within. Combining a rigorous exploration of identity and sexuality models with hundreds of candid and poignant testimonials -- this companion vouches for your personal truth, wherever you lie on the aspec spectrum. You are not invisible! You are among friends.
94. Being Ace: An Anthology of Queer, Trans, Femme, and Disabled Stories of Asexual Love and Connection by Editor Madeline Dyer Discover the infinite realms of asexual love across sci-fi, fantasy, and contemporary stories From a wheelchair user racing to save her kidnapped girlfriend and a little mermaid who loves her sisters more than suitors, to a slayer whose virgin blood keeps attracting monsters, the stories of this anthology are anything but conventional. Whether adventuring through space, outsmarting a vengeful water spirit, or surviving haunted cemeteries, no two aces are the same in these 14 unique works that highlight asexual romance, aromantic love, and identities across the asexual spectrum
95. Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex by Angela Chen A non-fiction research book about the asexual perspective on society's facinations with love and sex, and the misconceptions about what being asexual really is and what it means to a person.
96. The Invisible Orientation: an Introduction to Asexuality by Julia Sondra Decker An introduction to what asexuality is, both for people who don't know what that means and for people that may be questioning their own sexuality. It aims to puts asexual people's experiences in context, as they move through a very sexualized world.
97. Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobabe A graphic memoir about author Kobabe's growing from adolescence to adulthood, as e explores eir gender identity and sexuality. Features a gender queer and asexual main character that uses e/eir pronouns.
98. Ace Voices What it Means to Be Asexual, Aromantic, Demi or Grey-Ace by Eris Young This is the ace community in their own words. Drawing upon interviews with a wide range of people across the asexual spectrum, Eris Young is here to take you on an empowering, enriching journey through the rich multitudes of asexual life.
99. I Am Ace: Adice on Living Your Best Asexual Life by Cody Daigle-Orians Tackling everything from what asexuality is, the asexual spectrum and tips on coming out, to intimacy, relationships, acephobia and finding joy, this guide will help you better understand your asexual identity alongside deeply relatable anecdotes drawn from Cody's personal experience.
100. Sounds Fake But Okay: An Asexual and Aromantic Perspective on Love, Relationships, Sex, and Pretty Much Anything Else by Sarah Costello and Kayla Kaszyca Drawing on their personal stories, and those of aspec friends all over the world, prepare to explore your microlabels, investigate different models of partnership, delve into the intersection of gender norms and compulsory sexuality and reconsider the meaning of sex - when allosexual attraction is out of the equation.
I haven't read all of these books, so I can't guarantee all of them. But I did my best researching all of them. I was making this list on my own and I was amazed that I could find over 100 books with asexual characters and I wanted to share it!
The Aromantic Book List is now out!
Tagging some people who were excited about this list: @sweetspiderstew @majorgenerally @shayberri789 @53rdcenturyhero @knightoflodis @neonghost39 @rosaazulina
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19burstraat · 3 months
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Random SOC Trivia I Gathered On My Reread
I'll be using this for fics, but it's fun just to read!
Jesper does not hold alcohol well (though this is according to Kaz, who is not exactly impartial)
Wijnstraat, Nemstraat, Havenstraat, Ammberstraat are all street names if you want em
Van Eck has been involved in trying to clean up the Barrel; pious. (Allegedly pious, I doubt he really is)
1/5 Van Eck (or general Kerch trading?) vessels are lost at sea
Kaz arrested three times at ten, twice at eleven, once at fourteen. Does stints in jail but it does not say prison (ppl assume he's been to Hellgate / another prison but I don't think so. He'd never have shut the fuck up about it if he had; I assume the Stadhall Jail)
Kaz's cane is lead-lined. I wasn't sure if this was canon or fanon
Kaz runs book on prize fights, horses, and chance games. Floor boss at crow club since fifteen-ish. Youngest to run a betting shop and has doubled the profits.
Gambling halls: Treasure Chest, Golden Bend, Weddell's Riverboat, Silver Garter
West Stave brothels: The Blue Iris, The Forge, The Obscura, the Willow Switch, the House of Snow
Van Aakster is the widow mercher who sees Nina to ease his grief
Inej likes orange cakes in white paper
Black Tips tattoo is a hand with first and second fingers cut at the knuckle, Razorgulls is 5 birds in wedge formation
Nina Jesper and Kaz definitely all have the crow and cup; the others don't
Jordie seems to like books
ridderspel and spijker are arcade games
Bilge, clams, and wet stone smell in the Barrel (per Retvenko)
Kaz definitely is partial to dogs; Smeet's hounds and the grey dog the Hertzoon household had, the windup dogs, the metaphors. He loves a dog metaphor sorry ur not real babycakes you'd have loved thematic web weaving posts
Geldspin is the cotton mill in Zierfoort, Firma Allerbest is a cannery. Both in Alys' name
Wylan was 8 when Marya 'died'
the black veil tomb is carved like an ancient cargo ship
3 flying fish on a grave: government. Palm trees and snakes: spices.
Inej's mother braids her hair with orange ribbons (colour of persimmons)
University a series of buildings built around the Boekcanal and joined by Speaker's Bridge (where people debate and/or drink). Boeksplein four libraries built around a central courtyard and the Scholar's Fountain
Shipping container at third harbour is a Liddie hideout; Jam Tart House is an old hotel near the slat that the Razorgulls use
Long scar across Kaz's right knuckle
Violating contracts and interfering with the market can get you hanged in Kerch; same sentences as for murder (this is. Insane)
Haskell holds court with his mates at the Fair Weather Inn every week
Belendt is the second oldest Kerch city and sits on the Droombeld River
Jesper was 7 when Aditi died
Inej has an uncle (who seems to have some sort of ringmaster role) and cousins; Hanzi and Asha
Kaz convinced a locksmith in Klokstraat that he was the son of a wealthy merchant who highly valued his collection of priceless snuffboxes, and that's how he knows what locks the rich are using
Hubrecht Mohren, Master Thief of Pijl, who Kaz doesn't appear to think much of; one of Haskell's old cronies
Martin Van Eck, Wylan's great great grandfather, was a ship's captain, brought back a big shipment of spices from Eames Chin and started the Van Eck fortune
Kaz and Jesper (+ other Dregs boys) taught Inej to fight
Kaz and Jordie are from a town near Lij, as per the 'Johannus Rietveld' exposition, but Lij is seemingly the closest major city/county so it's easier to just say they're from Lij lol
The last time the Council of Tides appeared in public was 25 years prior to CK
Kaz found Filip running a monte game on Kelstraat; he also got the clerks who turned over fake info, the fake attorney, the man who gave them free hot chocolate
The spelling of Zentzbridge lapses to Zentsbridge, not sure which is right or if they're actually separate bridges or if there's a lot of wrong quotes floating around lol
Dryden house symbol is the golden wheat sheaf bound with a blue ribbon; Van Eck is the red laurel but we knew that
Kaz taught himself finance and gambling hall rules
Church of Barter roof is copper and long has turned green
Church of Barter built around the First Forge / The Mortar, which is a flat lump of rock that's supposedly Ghezen's altar
Ghezendaal Hospital is. Idk. a hospital. Just thought ppl might want the name
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thepascalofus · 10 months
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Supply Run - Receipt (part one)
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AO3
PART TWO
Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x afab!Reader
Word Count: 4.6k
Summary: You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.
Content Warnings: MDNI, 18+ only! Post season 2, the Crest lives, strangers to friends to lovers, soft!Mando, helmet loopholes, pining, idiots in love, jealous!reader, mentions of sex work (sex work is work!), eventual SMUT (making out, grinding, f!receiving fingering, f!receiving oral sex, p in v, PRAISE kink, dirty talk), FLUFF, cuddling, happy ending guaranteed!
The ramp of the Crest lowered, revealing the bright sun and arid atmosphere of the random planet Mando chose for a pitstop. In the distance were jagged mountains, the colors of orange, red, and brown coming together to paint streaks across the rocky range. Sparse populations of trees littered the distant landscape. Large–but tiny from a distance–birds flew from tree top to tree top, wings fanned outwards to catch the air currents beneath their wings.
To your left was Mando. His silver beskar armor glinted in the light as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. Broad shoulders blocked a sizable proportion of your peripheral vision. Observing the new planet, he stood like a statue.
Tall. Solid. Strong. Capable. Protective.
Biting your lip, your gaze traveled up and down Mando, head to toe. He certainly had an idea of how intimidating he looked. Yet, he had no idea how that intimidation made him look so good.
People always snuck glances at you and Mando when the pair of you were in public. Whispers could be picked up on as well. Rumors about his Creed. The state of the planet of Mandalore. How dangerous Mando was.
The danger he possessed only made your feelings for him deepen. You knew what he was capable of, but you also knew he would never use his capabilities on you. Not that you didn’t want him to…
Maybe he could lift you up. Carry you across the hull. Place you on the bed in his bunk. His large, gloveless hands smoothing up and down your sides. 
Mando could pin both of your hands above your head while he–.
Ok. Stop. That’s enough.
You cleared your throat, hoping to snap Mando out of his observational state, and you out of yours. “Alright, so we need five things: bacta, medkits, rations, a new flight suit, andddd soap?” You listed as you turned to him. Feet shifting, he turned his helmet to look at you. Shoulders that donned beskar pauldrons followed suit. The classic Mandalorian T shape of the visor burned into your pupils.
He paused, as if he was looking over his own checklist. “That should be it,” he confirmed with a nod. You returned his nod and added a small smile.
“Ok see ya!” You threw over your shoulder as you quickly bounded down the ramp of the Crest.
“Dank farrik, hold on, hold on,” Mando’s modulator gritted out as he clicked a button on his vambrace to close the Crest, running to get caught up to you. He rarely let you stray too far, especially when on new planets like this one. But, the Mandalorian read about the planet–and the quarry on it–before landing. 
“This planet is under the jurisdiction of the New Republic, so crime rates are low,” his modulated voice filled your ears once he caught up to you, “You’ll be on your own for this supply run.”
Stopping dead in your tracks, your shoes crunched against the brown substrate underneath them as you turned to face the man, “Really?” You asked, eyebrows shooting towards your hairline.
Mando responded with a hesitant nod. “I have some business to take care of, business that your presence isn’t required for,” the beskar pauldrons lifted and lowered in a shrug, “I figured you would enjoy having free range over the market.”
“Are you sure?” You replied.
He crossed his arms, the muscles in them appearing larger when pressed together. Mando’s helmet cocked to the side and his hip jutted out. The chin of his helmet lifted slightly as it motioned towards the market. “Go before I change my mind.”
Smile spread across your face, you did a hop of excitement in place and continued towards the market.
Trudging along to explore the unfamiliar marketplace, you recalled the previous supply run at a more populated planet.
Mando’s finger was perpetually hooked through one of your belt loops as he dragged you from stall to stall with him.
“Mando, I’m not a child,” you told him. Your eyes rolled as he tugged you along, your hips jerking along with the movement of his arm. Sometimes your hands wound up on Mando’s arm to maintain your balance. The muscles underneath your hands hardened and flexed as he maneuvered through the crowd.
“I never said you were,” he stated as his gaze remained focused on the crowd. His eyes constantly scanned the marketplace. Beings of different cultures and origins milled through the alleyway lined with stalls. The crowd of the market was average sized–no hustle and bustle but also no empty stalls. The occasional sound of credits clinking rang throughout the dry air as someone dug into their pocket to pay for their purchase.
You scanned the market just as Mando did, following his metal gaze to try and catch a glimpse at what he was seeing. “Are we in danger?” Your voice dropped to a whisper, uncertain about what’s going on inside that beskar helmet. 
Deadpanning you once again, he responded, “Not that I am aware of.” The T-shape constantly spun on an axis, and the grip of his finger tightened on the fabric of your belt loop.
Brows furrowing, you finally turned your head fully towards him, “Then why are you doing all this?” You gestured with one of your hands up and down his body. His hand jerked to tug you along, your hip following in response.
A large inhale and exhale made his beskar-plated chest rise and fall, “I want to make sure yo-,” he paused, then quickly continued, “Just want to make sure we’re safe.” He nods. The one he gives you when he's confirming something you said. Like his approval of the items you listed to get on a supply run.
Which brings you back to now. Receiving that same nod made a series of connections go off in you. For the past week you’ve been thinking about what he said. His finger tugged your hips with him, his verbal slip-up found its way onto the center stage of your thoughts every night cycle on the Crest.
“I want to make sure yo-.”
It felt like a confirmation.
You started as an assistant, helping Mando with whatever he needed. Marketplace runs? Check. Bounty information? Check. Small ship repairs? Check. But, calling someone an assistant sounded…weird to Mando. He didn’t enjoy the air of subordinacy the word possessed. The Mandalorian thought back to his days with his fellow Mandalorians. The covert worked as a team, with no hierarchy. Sure, some people were assigned roles, but no one was above anyone else. Everyone was part of one unit.
You worked on a small, galactically insignificant planet at a small-items repair shop. Mando entered one day with a scope for one of his blasters. Impressed with your knowledge and efficiency–the scope being repaired in less than ten minutes–the Mandalorian inquired about the chances of hiring you. “Partner,” he said with a nod, when he offered you the job, “You’ll be my partner.”
You both met at a cantina after your shift. Mando explained job responsibilities, pay, and the lifestyle that the job required. Sitting across from the man covered in beskar was intimidating. But near the end of your conversation you realized he was just soft spoken. He was also all business. Any conversation was focused on logistics of the job. He didn’t ask you weird personal questions. He respected your skills and your opinions. There were definitely worse bosses to have, you figured. Eager to explore the galaxy and leave behind the little planet, you loaded the Crest with your personal belongings the following week. 
Living in the Razor Crest with Mando was awkward at first. Mando would keep his interactions with you to a minimum. You noticed that he only left the cockpit when he knew you were occupied, asleep, or off of the ship. If he had to be in the same space as you, he would leave at least a meter of distance between your bodies. Like you were two magnets of the same polarity, refusing to go closer to the other.
All business.
But that didn’t stop you from being friendly. Whenever you did see Mando you would offer him a, “How are you?” Or a, “How was your day?” His responses were consistently short and to the point. 
“Fine.”
“Busy.”
“Awful.”
Dinner was when you typically saw him. He would come down to grab a ration pack and scurry back into the cockpit. You also saw him when he returned from hunts, dragging the bounty behind his beskar frame. His grunts echoed throughout the Crest’s hull as he pulled the quarry up and froze him into carbonite. You claimed a small section of the hull as your living quarters, so you had no choice but to watch.
Trying to break the tension, you asked, “How was your day?”
Mando huffed, his broad shoulders covered in beskar lifted and fell, “Nothing you want to hear about,” he deadpanned to you. If he did offer any emotion, it was cut out of his voice by his helmet’s modulator.
“Try me,” you crossed your arms and raised your eyebrows. Leaning back on the cold wall of the hull, your chest thrummed with nervous energy as you waited for his response. Was that too much? Were you just going to push him away?
“Quarry tried to escape and they ran. Would have been back four hours ago,” the modulator gritted out, “Not too fun.” His helmet tilted to the side and he squeezed his hands together that were clasped in front of him.
The Mandalorian’s wide frame took up the majority of the door frame that separates the carbonite room from the hull. Large gloved hands remained clasped together while he shifted in place, eventually settling on leaning against the frame.
You stood still in shock for a couple seconds. If you listened closely you could have heard the hearts beating in the hull. That was the most that Mando has ever said to you at once. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you started.
“You don’t have to be sorry,” he brushed past you towards the ladder going up to the cockpit, “It’s my job.”
You turned towards him, which halted his ascent, “That doesn’t mean it sucks any less,” your eyes widened and you tried to backtrack, “sorry, I probably shouldn’t have said that your job sucks,” you blurted out in an attempt to save face.
Mando met your gaze with the T of his visor and replied, “My job does suck.”
Did he just try to be funny? A giggle bubbled out from your chest. His silver helmet shook slightly from side to side and he turned back to climb the ladder. But not before he also let out a small chuckle.
His attitude slowly and steadily transformed after that night. 
Mando lingered in the hull longer in the mornings and in the evenings. The mornings were when you asked, “What’re the plans for today?” And the evenings came with your, “How was your day?”
At one point he started making you a cup of caf every morning when he was awake first, and he usually was. He knew you favored the drink in the mornings so he began to regularly purchase it, and he built up a sizable stash in the Crest.
His preferred distance from you shrunk and shrunk. The broad Mandalorian opted to stand next to you in the mornings, helping you make breakfast as well as he could. Ever-so-subtle brushes as you passed each other on the Crest became more frequent. Sometimes he would touch a hand to your waist as he passed, or on the small of your back if you weren’t facing him.
The beskar warrior spoke more too. He taught you a few words in Mando’a, which consisted of a couple basic words and some insults. 
“Di’kutla,” he spat out as he struggled to repair a part on one of his blasters.
“What’s that one mean?” You asked over your shoulder, looking up from the article you were reading on your Holopad.
Mando huffed in frustration and gritted out, “worthless…stupid,” as he continued to try and force the part off of the blaster.
Chuckling, you repeated the word in your mind and watched as Mando continued to struggle. You stored all of the words he shared with you deep in your brain, not wanting to forget this special part of himself that Mando shared with you.
One of your evening chats came to an end and the broad beskar man was drifting back to this bunk. For the first time, he paused and looked at you. You knew his gaze underneath the helmet met yours. No proof, but you knew.
“Goodnight,” the word gently flowed through his helmet’s modulator. 
He’s said it every night he’s been on the ship since then. Sometimes his gaze lingered on yours too long. A couple times you swore you saw the center of his chest rise, as if he was about to say something, but it stopped mid-exhale and Mando retreated into his bunk.
You found yourself to be increasingly longing for the sound of the ramp descending, signaling his return from a hunt. He trudged up the ramp, quarry in tow. Freezing the person in carbonite was always fast. Usually small pleasantries were exchanged before he used the fresher to clean off. 
If your mind were to venture towards more perverse thoughts, your favorite part was after he used the fresher.
He always emerged in a pair of black pants, a black t-shirt, and of course, his helmet.
No armor. No gloves. Not even the usual long-sleeved layer underneath his t-shirt.
When he turned to toss his clothes into a small hamper, you swore small tufts of dark brown hair peaked out from beneath his helmet. Nevertheless, a combination of factors had you in awe. Watching as Mando hauled the quarry into carbonite like it was nothing. You saw the toned muscles in his arms, developed from decades of finely tuned combat. The broad expanse of his back, rippling underneath his t-shirt. His calloused, capable hands are composed of thick fingers. You were in awe at his physique, his presence, the things he did to provide for the both of you.
And it hit you like a cold, ocean wave just how unafraid of him you were.
As if your fondness towards the Mandalorian couldn’t grow any more, he started returning from supply runs with gifts for you. Although he rarely let you go on runs alone, he did have the decency to give you space during pit stops. You would wander near him while looking at all of the different crafts the stalls had to offer.
One day you were peering at a set of comfortable lounge pants. You managed to whittle your wardrobe down to one set after damaging pair after pair when repairing the Razor Crest. Shoulders slumped, you thought about how comfy the pants would be when sleeping in your makeshift bed on the floor of the Crest. You knew you didn’t have enough credits, so you moved along to purchase the items the pair of you actually needed.
Milling about the market weren’t many people, which was most likely why you were alone on this shopping trip. The brown sands of the marketplace intruded upon the surroundings, leaving dunes of sand curving up and into the stalls. Sun rays blared down from the cloudless sky. Heat already seeped through your airy shirt and throughout your skin, conjuring up a layer of sweat. After visiting four stalls you purchased all of the necessary items. 
Bacta. Soap. Rations. Spare parts. You confirmed each purchase on the receipts from the market. A step you always took to make sure nothing was forgotten.
You met Mando back at the Razor Crest and started unloading your bags. Item after item piled on the center of the ship's floor. Rations. Bacta. Medkits. Sweatpants. Ammo. Ra-.
Sweatpants?
The sweatpants were identical to the ones you stopped and looked at while shopping. Your hands reached for the sweatpants and marveled in their softness. Pausing, your gaze lifted to meet Mando’s T-shaped visor. “Did you buy sweatpants?” Confusion oozed from your voice.
His gaze remained on yours and he replied with a slight nod of his head, “Yes. They’re for you.” 
“Mando, you didn’t ha-”
“Take it. Please. I feel bad enough making you sleep on the floor,” he insisted. His gloved hand gestured to the sleeping pad, pillow, and blanket neatly stored in a corner of the hull. 
“Honestly it hasn’t been that bad. The sleeping pad you got is pretty comfy.” You shrugged and told him the truth. Sleeping on that plush pad was infinitely better than the hull’s cold, metal floor.
“You have to set it up every night. You at least deserve a permanent bed,” his modulator made his words sound like churning gravel.
You stared into the black T covering his face. His shoulders drooped, like he gave up on trying to convince you. The gesture was a silent plea to just accept the gift.
“Thank you,” you said to him softly, “it means a lot.” 
It was his turn to shrug, “That’s why I do it.”
Today marks a year since the two of you became “partners”.
For you, that marked a year since you’ve met the man you had a heart throbbing crush on. 
You knew Mando wasn’t much of the sentimental type. Everything he kept was for a purpose. Any sentimental things had extreme meaning to him. If you were reading the situation correctly, you had a burning suspicion that the beskar covered man liked you back. So suggesting you two get matching bracelets at the market wouldn’t be completely farfetched. Even if he didn’t like you back you could just play it off as a gag gift…right?
After trudging across the brown landscape for twenty minutes, Mando at your tail, you arrived at the market. 
“We meet at that stall,” you heard from over your shoulder. Your eyes followed Mando’s finger to a bright red food vendor stall, “in 2 hours. Understood?”
A smile plastered itself onto your face and you gave him a sarcastic salute, “Understood.”
A breathy chuckle passed through Mando’s modulator. He shook his head softly and motioned for you to get a move on. You turned on your heel and walked to your first destination.
Bacta? Check. Rations? Check. Soap? Check. Medkits? Check.
The only thing left was a new flight suit for Mando.
As you walked towards the clothing section of the market you stopped at a men’s clothing stall to purchase an extra large black flight suit. Once your transaction was completed you walked further into the alleyway lined with stalls selling dresses, flight gear, loungewear, jewelry, bracelets. Bracelets. 
Your eyes landed on a stall with various fabrics on display. The front tables of the vendor were packed with different colored bracelets. Bracelet materials ranged from metal, leather, twine, thick cord, beads, and some materials you’ve never seen before.
The stall became even more enchanting as you got closer. Signs displayed prices, sizes, and ongoing sales. Immediately your eyes landed on a vast array of multicolored bracelets. You were thinking of getting something green since Mando told you that Grogu is green. 
A couple months ago he told you about how he had to give Grogu to a Jedi to train, since Grogu could use the force. Your heart sank. Mando often turned the metal knob of the thruster–a silver ball–over and over in his hand. He only told you recently that it was Grogu’s favorite thing to steal from him.
Your eyes danced over the section of green bracelets. Some were too dark, some too vibrant, others were just ugly. Finally, your gaze landed on the bracelet.
A fine, light green thread, you assumed somewhat close to Grogu’s color, was intertwined with thicker silver and brown threads. Light green and silver streaked across the rough brown surface of the bracelet. It reminded you of light streaking across the windshield of the Crest while in hyperspace.
This was the one.
Sifting through the different sizes you picked out one in your size and one you guessed would fit Mando. The bracelets were adjustable and hopefully that would help if you got Mando the wrong size. Setting the bracelets down to sift through your pockets for credits, you looked up at a weathered sign displaying the prices.
PRICES
1 bracelet = 15 credits
2 = 30 credits
3 = 45 credits
4 = 60 credits
As you reached into your pockets and retrieved your last credits you realized you didn’t have enough. Only twenty five credits sat in your palm. Not in the mood to haggle with the vendor about the price, your shoulders dropped and you returned the bracelets to their original places.
You checked your watch. One hour left until you met back up with Mando. Making it from one end of the market to the other took forty five minutes, so you figured you could take the scenic route back to the meet up point. Getting to see the new sights could cheer you up after not being able to afford the gift you wanted to get for Mando.
Walking up on a familiar intersection, you opted to take a right this time instead of a left. The path on the right was much more…interesting…than the path on the left. One vendor sold exotic pets. The next sold potions that promised to give the consumer various effects. The next stall was not a stall, it was a large establishment.
The establishment stood tall amongst the surrounding stalls. Solid brick walls were painted a dull gray. A sign with old, faded letters was centered on the front wall between two windows. The tall windows of the building were heavily tinted. Shadows of different figures danced across the glass. Some bodies were indistinguishable from the ones they were next to. Music blared from inside, but it barely covered the sounds of moans and the slapping of skin on skin.
Looking up, front and center on the building reads: BROTHEL
Brothels weren’t a common occurrence on the supply runs you’ve been on, but you suppose the service was in demand. You shrugged and walked past the gray building. The moving bodies in the windows almost allowed your vision to gloss over him.
Tall. Broad. Covered in beskar. A black T shaped visor gazing down at a man.
At first you froze in shock. Was this the business Mando had to attend to? The one that, “didn’t require your presence”? You never pictured the Mandalorian to be a man that required services like these, but he is a man nonetheless.
A soft breeze sent goosebumps down your arms towards your fingertips. Realizing you’re out in the open, you ducked into an empty market stall. A gap in the wood planks making up the stall’s sides gave you a clear view of Mando’s encounter with the mystery man.
The man was in all black with a silver name tag on his chest. By Mando’s serious demeanor you could tell that the conversation was strictly business. The Mandalorian’s helmet tilted in question at the man and Mando pulled out a pen and pad to write on. From the man’s stance and close position to the building you could tell he was the bouncer, plus the presence of a name tag. 
The bouncer pulled out an identical pad and began to speak. You couldn’t hear a word they exchanged, but you could tell Mando was writing down a list. A finger on the bouncer’s hand came up everytime he stated something else from his list. Mando jotted down a few things, closed his pad, and returned it to a pocket in his suit.
Then he reached into a different pocket, pulled out a sizable amount of credits, and handed them to the bouncer.
Did he just buy a night at the brothel?
Your heart dropped to your stomach. Blood rushed towards your head and your vision slightly blurred. You felt stupid. You fell for a guy, pretty much your boss, you don’t even know what he looks like, and he didn’t like you back. You were even going to buy you and him matching bracelets. Breaths exited your mouth in stutters. The realization of how naive you were radiated throughout your being. Mando was just being nice to you. He managed to warm up to you. That’s it. 
But you were also so confused. What were the fleeting touches in the Crest? The gifts he gave you after trips to the market? The early morning and late evening conversations? Feelings bubbled up from your stomach and started to seep out of your body in the form of tears. 
You spent a year getting to know this man. Kriff, it took you a couple months before he started replying to you in full sentences. No one else has experienced Mando like this. You didn’t want anyone else to see his ungloved hands, the rolling muscles of his back in just a t-shirt, the way the helmet softly shook from side to side when he heard a bad joke. Those small, “Goodnight”s, are yours. The modulated chuckles are yours. The way he makes a cup of caf for you on most mornings. That’s yours.
Of course Mando wasn’t yours, but jealousy managed to seep into your bones regardless. 
Zoning back into the situation, you realized Mando started walking back in the direction towards the meet up point. Scrambling to get to your feet, you jumped over the wall of the empty stall and made your way back
Upon seeing the size of the bag you carried, Mando slipped it from your grasp and into his. He stuffed a small piece of paper, a receipt, into the bag before swinging it onto his shoulder. 
The walk back to the Razor Crest lacked conversation. Sounds of crunching ground underneath your shoes echoed in your ears. Mando followed your lead and kept the trek speechless.
The Razor Crest steadily became larger and larger on the horizon. Once orange, brown, and red mountain ranges were now painted in hues of pink and purple. Colors of the rocky formations reflected off of the Razor Crest.
You bounded up the ramp as soon as it was lowered. Mando followed suit and began to empty the bag of its contents. Each item fell onto the middle of the hull’s floor.
Bacta. Medkits. Flight suit. Soap. Rations.
The beskar man dug around in the bag for a second more and retrieved a handful of receipts. 
“Here,” he said as he handed them to you, “I know you like to look them over.”
Your stomach flipped at the thoughtfulness. Reaching your hand out, his gloveless fingers brushed yours in the handing off of the receipts. After they were straightened out you began to look through them.
First receipt, bacta and medkits.
Second receipt, rations and soap.
Third receipt, flight suit.
Fourth receipt.
Wait. Fourth receipt?
Your eyes scanned the lines of the flimsy paper. The date was from today, so it wasn’t old. But you didn’t visit the vendor listed on the receipt. Pupils skipping a few lines, you read the items purchased.
ITEMS PURCHASED (1)
CONDOM - 12 PACK
For the second time today you froze. Blood rushed up towards your head as your vision blurred. 
He really just bought a night with a worker at the brothel.
From the little details you had, you tried to make sense of the scene you stumbled across earlier in the night. Mando talked to the bouncer, probably asked who was working that night, wrote down the workers he was interested in, and paid for a night with one of them. I mean, what else could you possibly be talking with a brothel bouncer about? The weather?
Good thing you didn’t buy those bracelets.
PART TWO
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the-kr8tor · 5 months
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Seafoam on the shore
Pairing: Pirate! Hobie Brown x fem! Reader
Word count: 2.8k
Tags: Use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader (except for her clothing), CW drinking, CW food mentions, TW injury.
Between the Devil and the Sea Masterlist
Navigation
CHAPTER 1 >>> CHAPTER 2
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You run as fast as you can, your feet flying off the muddy uneven streets. Huffing while a local copper yells at you to stop, his yells get more exhausted every second he chases after you. So far he isn't even near you, one of the few benefits of staying at a provincial fishing town is that the police are either too out of shape to catch you, their bellies round, definitely full of ale. Or they simply don't give a damn about a pickpocket, muttering to themselves how they're not paid enough to do a city cop's job.
Losing your balance, you silently curse at your worn down work boots. Sliding off the ground, skidding off down the streets, disturbing the hustle and bustle of the market. You hit a vegetable cart along the way, wood splintering, scratching your arms. Cabbages and carrots fly off, there's yelling and screaming around you and your legs are aching from the impact.
“Sorry!” You yell back to a disgruntled vendor.
He curses at you and your entire family for ruining his sale. You take a mental note to pay him back somehow when you're not currently occupied.
Digging your heels in, you come to a halt, you're lucky enough to get a hold on a lamp post. Glancing behind, you don't see the cop running after you but you're not taking any chances so you enter a tight alleyway. You know this village like the back of your hand, you have to or else seeing the inside of the jail would be waiting for you in the future.
Knowing there’s a pipe somewhere along the walls, you run your muddy hands along the bricks, the cramp walls touching your back and chest, you stop when your nail hits something metallic.
Your ears perk up at someone snitching, “fuck” without hesitation, you climb up the rusty pipe.
Hands digging into the metal. It creaks and groans, but it seems like lady luck is on your side when you reach the top with no problems.
Hearing hurried footsteps down below, you immediately lie low on the roof. Hiding yourself from his gaze. The cop glances around the alley, scratching his head, confused as to how you escaped without a trace.
“Damn” he mutters, completely winded.
You smile to yourself as he leaves. The sun bares at your back, cotton blouse sticking to your skin. Needing a bath is an understatement.
Standing up, you carefully tread the roof, avoiding floors that look damaged. You definitely don't want a repeat incident of what happened six villages ago. You can never get used to the view from up high, the sea blends in with the orange sky, melting together, blues, greens and reds mingle in harmony. The setting sun paints a picturesque scenery, draping everything it touches in its heavenly light.
Ships and fishing boats float above the waves as if they're dancing to the sound of the water splashing on its wooden sides.
Your hands instinctively reach for the necklace hidden under your blouse. Fingers tracing the etching of a flying bird that you know like the back of your hand.
Despite the open sea, you can't help but feel trapped. The docks beckon you over to somewhere you can't remember, somewhere where you can rest in peace, somewhere across the deep dark treacherous sea are people you can call your home. People who may have been looking for you all this time. Their faces are but a blur in your mind, voices a mere echo lingering in your heart. The pendant leaves a circular indent on your palms as you grip it tight.
Is it possible to miss someone you don't even remember?
Your train of thought gets interrupted by movement from a ship floating along the dock, a large sailboat whose wood differs from each one of its structures. You can tell from how some of it is painted gold and silver like the ones on royal ships, it looks like it was hastily hammered into regular oak with intricate carvings. Some wood blends better together, dark timber melding with ashen wood. Three cannons are lined on the sides, its metal having seen better days, no longer glimmering in the sunlight.
From where you're standing, the figurehead on the bow looks peculiar, like nothing you've ever seen traveling along coastal towns. A fierce creature with sharp teeth opening its jaws, eyes wide and alert. Its red scaly skin adds to its terrifying image. What's more peculiar is the lack of flag flying on its mast. An unknown ship from an unknown place tickles your curiosity.
You slink back down on the roof when a woman emerges from below deck, her blond hair shining under the sun. Another much taller one follows behind her. Raven colored hair flowing in the soft wind. They seem to be arguing, but you're completely bewildered as to how they're allowed to sail. All this time, you can't believe that you can actually step foot inside a boat, moreso sail on it.
This changes everything, you suppose.
You leave the roof, letting the women argue amongst themselves. Expertly hopping from awning to canopy, you land at your final destination, the White Salmon pub.
Jumping down, you land on a cart full of broken fishing nets, it's a miracle that you weren't tangled under all the mess.
Entering the rowdy pub, the smell of ale and pickled fish enters your nostrils. A bunch of sailors sing off key in the middle, too drunk to care about the ruckus they're making. You try to blend in with the drunk crowd, hiding behind people, weaving around them to sneak past the bar and upto the stairs leading up to your room.
“Oi! did ya think I wouldn't notice ya?”
You stop just about the foot of the stairs. Groaning in exasperation, quickly taking off the bandana tied around your face to conceal half of your face. You try your best to put your best smile, turning your charm up to a hundred.
“Hi, aunty Janet” you walk towards her like a child caught with their hands inside the cookie jar. “I got the butter you asked”
Janet huffs, eyes narrowed, her brows furrowed. You place the stick of butter in front of her like an offering to appease an angry God.
“Please don't tell me the coppers will be knocking on my doors again”
“That was one time! Besides I actually paid for this one” you push the butter towards her with your finger. She stares at it like you're giving her contraband.
You give her one charming smile, she sighs, taking the butter from the counter. “You're on thin ice, Y/N. Don't make me regret taking you in.”
“That was a year ago and look, I'm still here!”
“A year and a half, I counted because with every shit ya manage to pull, a strand of my hair turns white.” she points at her hair that's almost completely white. “This used to be black”
“I know, I'm sorry. I just need to–”
“To what? It always seems like you're hiding shit from me and Thena” She tries to hold your hand on the counter but you flinch away.
“Won't happen again, I promise.” A clear lie on your part, you'll just have to be better at sneaking. You vault over the counter to roll up your sleeves, clean yourself up and put on your apron.
“When will you learn, girl?”
“When the king sentences me to death himself!” grabbing an empty tray, you start clearing a nearby table. Janet pinches the bridge of her nose.
After dodging rowdy customers and a flying pint, Thena takes a break with you in the tiny corner of the tavern. She unabashedly sighs loudly, smelling of ale and lavender she hastily rubbed on to mask the scent of alcohol.
You side eye her with a tired smile, Thena sighs again, louder this time, a few patrons gaze your way.
“Alright, what's wrong?”
“Oh nothin' it's just Arthur's back again and he hasn't even glanced my way”
You flick your eyes towards the blonde patron nursing a pint, his green eyes meet yours, he smiles with his yellow teeth and you look away immediately, not from embarrassment, no, but from how you don't want his eyes on you.
Why in the world is Thena so smitten by someone like Arthur who comes and goes into the pub more than he goes inside a bathroom?
“You could do better, Thena. One that actually brings in coins instead of using them all in the pub or a brothel.”
“I know,” she sighs once again. Leaning closer to your side so you slide further away. “But he's the fittest bloke here though” whining, she puffs out her cheeks.
As if some divine comedy, Arthur beckons you over with a twist of his hand. You internally cringe.
Thena gasps, “I think he's finally taking notice of me!” She stands up, sauntering over to his table with the confidence of a newborn deer.
Before you could rescue her though, Janet yells at you from the other side of the room. “Get back to work, Y/N!” She signals with head, pointing towards a table by the corner.
You groan, lumbering your way towards the customers. His large back is turned away from you, brown hair neatly slicked back, clothes looking too neat and expensive for a dingy pub like the white salmon. His companion thumps her head on the wall lightly like she's trying to get water out of her ears. Her hair is cut short, glasses over her almond shaped eyes, clothes equally looking expensive but less neat than her large companion.
Her lips turn upwards once she sees you. “Finally some service” she stretches her legs out, noting how she's wearing trousers instead of the usual frilly skirts rich women wear.
“Sorry, what can I do for you?” You put on your customer service voice that's laced with mild annoyance. The man sits still like a rock, his back still turned away from you.
“Fish and chips, some pickled eggs and a pint.” She glances at her friend before groaning with a sly smirk. “And he'll have plain porridge, no seasoning, just porridge. It's better if it's days old. Right, Miguel?”
The man huffs, craning his neck to look over his shoulder. The single candle light on the table illuminates his chiseled face, turning his eyes crimson.
“A pint will do” his voice is gruff yet calm.
There's alarm bells ringing in your head, the tray falls from your shaking hands. Your heart thumps louder than the clanking metal.
“Careful there, it's bad to drink on the job” His friend’s comment falls on deaf ears as you stare at the man before you. His expression doesn't change except for how his eyebrows lift slightly.
It's been years, surely he doesn't recognize me as an adult, right?
You clear your throat, mustering the best smile you can do. “Sorry about that, I'll get your orders right away” leaning down to take the tray from the sticky floors, your necklace slips out of your blouse, the gold shimmering in the candle light.
He could burn you with just his stare.
Walking briskly, clutching the tray, its metal is uncomfortably cold on your skin. The pub seems to get louder and louder with every footstep, the laughter and rowdy singing makes you dizzy. Janet calls after you as you run up the stairs to your room.
Thinking fast, you lock the door, pushing your dresser to further lock it. Your mind races to the floorboards beneath your threadbare bed. With your bare hands you hastily take the wood out revealing a hollow hole containing your possessions.
There's loud booming footsteps climbing up the stairs. Followed by his voice calling your name.
“Fuck” without thinking, you take the bag from its hiding place, slinging it over your shoulder before you cross the small space to the window.
“Y/N, Please!” He keeps calling after you. “Let me just,” thump, “fuck!”
That's your signal to jump down.
Landing on your heels, you feel your knees aching from the fall. You hear your bedroom door slam open with a force that surely broke its hinges.
You run like you've ran from him like last time.
Suddenly, you're thirteen years old, weaving through the forest, vines prickling your legs as you wade through the thicket. White lilies are but a blur as tears flow freely from your eyes as you keep running without a destination.
Why? Aren't you enough? Did she not love you like you thought she did? What did you do to deserve being abandoned twice?
You're back to the present when he yells your name again. Your heart pounds loudly on your ribcage, lungs burning, you feel like you're about to collapse.
His companion also runs after you, screaming your name desperately.
But you have the upperhand. Using the moon as your guide, you climb up a house, its bricks protruding out of the walls, the place you used to climb to practice, but now you climb it to save your own skin.
Running from roof to roof, you feel a presence behind you. His thunderous footsteps echo into the cold night. You don't dare look behind.
The woman follows you from the ground, her heels clicking on the uneven sidewalk. “Y/N! Wait up–shit!” Without looking down, you hear her fall.
He screams your name again, the same one she called you back then.
You run furiously, jumping off the side only to keep running towards the docks. Panicking, you see a ship leaving the docks, its fishing net left hanging on the side. Without thinking, you make a break for it.
Sprinting on the old docks, you leap the huge gap. Miraculously, you take hold of the net, clinging to it with all your might. Entering the net, you ignore the smell of fish, watching as the place you once called home gets smaller and smaller.
You say goodbye to Janet, who kindly took you in without asking for anything in return. Who gave you a job and a room so you don't freeze and starve outside. Who took care of you when you fell ill to the cold.
You say goodbye to Thena, the only friend you've ever had, the longest friend you've ever had. The same Thena who taught you how to sew and mend your own clothes. Thena who taught you how to throw a punch when a handsy sailor tries to touch you.
Thena whom you've grown accustomed to calling you her sister.
You say goodbye to the fishing town you've only recently called your home.
You say goodbye to the man at the docks who's staring at your fleeing form, whose eyes are narrowed, almost pleading for you to come back.
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A/N: There's no Hobie appearance in this chapter yet :( (next chapter though 👀)
Hope you like it, thank you for reading!
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she-posts-nerdy-stuff · 6 months
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Symbols I would be making sure were present (or adding) if I were producing the Six of Crows TV show
(Btw I’ve been writing my own script for a bit of fun since the cancellation news so if anyone wants to see that I’ll tag you, and the save S&B petition is also on my page if anyone wants the link)
EDIT: Sorry I should’ve put this I forgot; SA reference warning for the second point, nothing explicit but in talking about Inej’s experiences and the experiences of women in Greek mythology 🖤
FLOWERS. I want geraniums on the Exchange balcony from chapter 2 and I want reference to the geraniums at 19 Burstradt, I want Matthias the big brooding yellow tulip contrasted with the red tulips laid on his chest and in the water after his death, I want crocuses at the Hoede manor, I want jurda blossoms in Jesper’s flashbacks and maybe Kaz’s too (and probably crocuses in his), I want geraniums hidden all over the caravan and circus tent in Inej’s flashbacks, I want wild flowers in Wylan’s hands on the way to St Hilde’s that get discarded in the lobby, I want wisteria growing outside St Hilde’s, I want blue tulips painted on the floor tiles at St Hilde’s, I want white roses all over Nina’s room in Ketterdam and I want to hear the comment about how all the flowers at the White Rose are perfumed by hand, I want a cascade of geraniums falling all over Kaz and Inej as they tumble of Goedmed Bridge, I want lavish flower arrangements at the Menagerie accented by peacock feathers, I COULD TALK ABOUT THE FLOWER SYMBOLISM IN THESE BOOKS FOR YEARS I WANT IT NOTICED LET’S GO
BIRDS. I want crows, I want pigeons, I want nightingales (that one’s my personal addition but oh boy do I have reasons; Nightingales are a symbol of immortality in literature and could be painted on the tiles at St Hilde behind the wisteria for all the same symbolic reasons the wisteria’s there; in Greek mythology Philomela prayed to the gods to escape her Tereus, who had raped her and intended to kill her, and they turned her into a nightingale, representing freedom and imprisonment at the same time because she’d lost who she was so this wasn’t true freedom DO YOU UNDERSTAND HOW BADLY I NEED A NIGHTINGALE TO CROSS THE SCREEN WHILST INEJ CONTEMPLATES HAVING COMMITTED MURDER AND HER PERSONAL MORAL AND RELIGIOUS IMPLICATIONS OF THAT!!?? I’m going crazy), I want more emphasis on the bird cage in Heleen’s office because in its three seconds of screen time in season one I was SOLD on how genius it was, I want peacocks EVERYWHERE, I want to be so committed to the birds vibe that we can start throwing in a whole load of new birds for other symbolism!! Let’s have owl symbolism around Wylan and Jesper, let’s have heavy emphasis on Nina as the little red bird, let’s talk about the nightingale again because I’m obsessed
KOMEDIE BRUTE. I have talked before about how I think the costumes each character wears are symbolic and directly linked to their arc but it was a long time ago and I updated it a few times based on replies so if anyone wants a full updated version of my thoughts on that lemme know, I also wrote a thing about how I think Mr Crimson could possibly be an omen of death so again if anyone’s interested let me know - I’ll either tag you or write a post fully involving all my Komedie Brute thoughts. I want Nina as the lost bride, Wylan and Inej in matching grey imp costumes, Kaz in the madman’s mask, Jesper and Matthias as Mr Crimson, all of them as Mr Crimson with a black tear in their masks, silver coins thrown all over the staves, costume shops on Ketterdam streets. I want Jackal masks and Drüskelle “costumes” in plain view on market stalls and in shop windows, and as an add on to that I want references to Nina’s fake Kefta being Kerch-made and uncomfortable to wear.
PURPLE. I want purple stadwatch uniforms, I want purple kruge notes, I want purple decor in the Geldrenner, I want purple silks in Inej’s flashbacks.
TREES. I want so many reminders that trees are sacred to Fjerdans!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This has already been done really well in the show but I would want to maintain it; I want to see Matthias praying when Wylan fells the tree before the Ice Court heist, I want his indignation over the relevance of the sacred ash tree, I want to see the look on Nina’s face when she realises Brum has walked her all the way around the sacred ash instead of crossing underneath it (at the time she thinks it’s because she’s pretending to be a prostitute but later we understand it’s because she’s Grisha and I know we couldn’t have had Nina’s internal thoughts in this scene even though I wish we could have but we can still have hints!!!)
SEALS AND STAMPS. I want to see a blue wax seal with a peacock feather pattern, a black seal with a crow, a pale green stamp for the bank, a purple stamp for government correspondence, I want a stack of letters with unbroken red seals with a laurel wreath crest hidden under Wylan’s mattress.
RELIGIOUS SYMBOLS. Ok there’s loads we could say here but specifically I want “rich as saints in crowns of gold” contrasted with “if it was worth anything Heleen would have taken it. But this is just a simple token of faith that my mother stitched”, I want the imagery of Ghezen contrasting the imagery of the Saints contrasting the imagery of Djel, and I so so badly want “Djel is the god of life, not death”
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jennifer-jeong · 27 days
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Okay so first, I really love your LnD fics (patiently waiting for more of your amazing works) 🥹🫶 and hear me out...
Reader who is reincarnated as a Fae being and has been alive since. But the thing is, her wings had been clipped off (with the use of silver chains, meaning she's vulnerable against silver) for a century and is in Linkon city since she feels that part of her (her wings) are somewhere hidden in the city (Think of Maleficent live action ig where her wings were taken from her) and meets the guys and so on :)
HI ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR ASK AND YOUR KIND WORDS FJDSKLAFJSDL;A I APPRECIATE IT SM!! TY FOR INTERACTING!! I’m so glad to hear you like my fics and I promise more are on the way hehehe please do request me again if you have more ideas!!
I hope I did your prompt justice! I definitely did think a lot about maleficent when writing this hehehehe
[Fluff + Angst] [Love and Deepspace Boys x Fae!Reader] Angel
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CONTENT Angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, mentions of violence, blood, trauma, torture, healing alongside them, mutual pining between you and the boys, happy and open ended endings! ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+
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Your wings were a pretty and pearly milky white. Your wings resembled those of high flying birds. They were thick enough to allow gliding and also strong enough to give you lots of control in the air. They were iridescent in the sun and carried you high in the bright sky. The air was thin but more refreshing up there. You played with clouds and soared through the endless blue. It was freedom. It made you feel alive, warm.
It was your gift, but unfortunately, it was on someone else’s wishlist.
You’d never been a spiteful being, nor had you ever hurt a fly. But when silver chains ripped your flesh and tore your muscle to take your wings, severing your very soul from your body. When they destroyed your forest, your home, your family, your heart. You swore to make them suffer.
You were powerful and hunting these fools down was nothing difficult for you. The problem was hunting without your wings, your best weapon.
The lack of mobility and being forced to fight on the ground made it so that you could maim the weak ones, but you could never reach the ones who profited off the suffering of you and your people.
Linkon city is where they were. You knew this. You could feel your wings there. You also knew that you’d need to hide, figure out who did what and how to get your damn wings back. It would take time, but time was all you had as a fae. You’d do whatever it took to make them pay.
It’d take years, but it was worth it.
2 years later and you’ve already made moves to apprehend (and torture) a few key figures, always leaving them in front of the police station when you were done. You still had so much good in you and it always prevented you from killing. But it made you seethe that they were filthy fucking rich from what they stole from your homeland. They sold your resources and displayed your bodies, your wings, like they were trophies. Life was still cold and depressing for you but you did manage to make some friends in Linkon. They’d even help you with your mission. You only trusted them with the information because they had similar goals.
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XAVIER
Xavier was a local policeman you had met a few decades into your plot when you were hired to help with the case. He was coincidentally also investigating illegal hunters and black markets selling goods stolen from other civilizations such as yours. It was a big ring of crime and he was determined to end the atrocities that were being committed in it. Meeting you was just extra motivation on top of his already relentless drive for justice. You became investigative partners since you were both capable in combat and often investigated the same people anyways.
Xavier was kind, gentle, quiet, and stronger than he let on. He always worked without expectation of reward and you appreciated that. You just wanted justice and he wanted the same. It helped that he didn’t seek publicity because it would’ve made your life harder since you were probably wanted as a vigilante from before. Xavier taught you his philosophies and you realized you’d been consumed by your desire for revenge, unable to enjoy life outside of it. You admired him for his morals, so you learned from him, and it made you two grow closer. He was more than happy to help, it was so rewarding to see you slowly become your bubbly self that he guesses you lost a long time ago.
He had his suspicions that you might be fae. The man was smart but he played his cards carefully, he always held them close. He acted aloof with you and pretended to not constantly stare at the back of your shirt, trying to see if you had imprints of missing wings on your shoulder blades. He also figured that your motivation for wanting to crack these cases came from somewhere. If he also managed to figure out that you’d been behind some of the previous mysterious arrests, he’d turn a blind eye. He knew your actions weren’t crimes. He felt glad that you got them back for what they did to you and your people.
After a few years of planned raids and dozens of arrests, one of the recovered items from the warehouse was a beautiful pair of wings. Still buzzing with magic, craving to feel the wind again. You felt them when they were being transported to the police HQ. The surge of energy that continued to approach you made you hold your breath and bounce your leg out of pure anxiety. Xavier put a hand on your shoulder to try to calm you down. He’d already figured out what was going on just by looking at you. You didn’t need to say a word. It was something that slowly came naturally since you two spent so much time together. You smiled and he smiled warmly back. You were in the middle of panicking because Xavier was still touching you when you were presented with your missing soul, your wings. You requested to view the “evidence” privately with Xavier and wasted no time in feeling your delicate wings with your fingertips again.
Xavier stood behind you, his right hand found its way to your upper back. He finally traced the outlines of your cut wings. It made you gasp at first, but you trusted him. As he continued to feel them, you shivered. They were scars, they were more sensitive. He stepped to your side and you turned to partially face him, his hand sliding off of you. You looked into his eyes and your longstanding feelings for Xavier were making their presence known by heating up your face, flushing your cheeks. You swore you saw a slight tinge of red on the tips of his ears too. He spoke to you in his familiar voice that you loved so much. He decided to tease you slightly.
“I think I always knew that you’d have wings, you were too perfect to not be an angel.”
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ZAYNE
Zayne was a surgeon you’d met one day when he treated your wounds since you collapsed outside the hospital. He discovered the scars where your wings used to sit on your back. You were high off the morphine when he checked your back for more injuries so you barely even realized.
He questioned you but not in the way you expected. You thought he wouldn’t know what they were or try to take advantage of you. But instead he asked what you knew about the hunters that took your wings. He already knew exactly what happened to you just by looking. He was involved in cracking down on research related to Fae and Lemurians since there were people trying to fuse their genetics with these races to gain their beneficial traits such as immortality.
He knew some things you didn’t know and vice versa. You both began working on this together, investigating research facilities, interrogating suspects, and fighting only when needed. You were unstoppable and the law didn’t plan to ask you to let up. You both hand delivered them collectors and shadowy figures that had hid from the police for so long. When you fought, Zayne could both heal and attack from afar while you rushed them head on. You were unafraid because you believed in your partner, your trust in Zayne only grew as the years went on.
Early on, Zayne encouraged you to let go of the spite, the revenge. You knew he was right when he said that they did not benefit you in this. He saw the rage in you and could see that it was hurting you, mentally and physically. You listened, you knew better. You stopped the relentless tortures and instead, let the collectors rot in jail, but not before you got in a few good punches. Zayne watched you slowly come out of your shell again, actually taking the time to enjoy the little things in life instead of being hyper focused on revenge. He’d be lying if he said you weren’t one of the most rewarding patients he’d ever had.
Working with your partner was definitely quite the rollercoaster. He was always so professional and mature but would also randomly tease you as if you were kids, albeit with a fully deadpan expression. Zayne was reserved and often came off as cold but he made you so warm. You knew he was an extremely compassionate and kind person under his exterior and you admired him for it. Zayne also adored you in the same way. You had gone through so much pain and suffering but you still smiled and shined like the sun.
Over time you adapted to live without your wings but after one specific raid on a collector’s mansion, you knew exactly what the collector’s prized possession was because it belonged to you. You could feel your wings. They still surged with energy and upon seeing them when you went to do follow up investigation, you immediately called to them. They flew towards you and you inspected them, almost not believing the scene in front of you. Zayne stayed close ready to support you, especially if you were to fuse with your wings again, he knew it’d be hard to keep them hidden and it’d just bring up so much previous trauma.
You turned to face him slowly, leaving your wings behind you. You hesitated. Not letting your wings fuse with you yet. Zayne looked into your eyes, trying to comfort you with his presence. After a few seconds, Zayne held out his hand, you took it. His skin was cold but somehow it made yours burn, the heat spreading through your body as your face warmed up. He spoke quietly to you, telling you to take your time. You closed your eyes and took deep breaths, your thumb slowly caressing the back of Zayne's hand as he did the same back.
Zayne had always been good at comforting you with his words, maybe it just came naturally since he was a doctor. Regardless, you knew it was exactly what you needed right now. You didn’t know what you’d do after you got your wings back. Would you go home? Would you continue this mission with Zayne? Would having your wings make it harder? Would it make it easier? You confided in Zayne as you spoke your thoughts out loud. Once you were done, you were overwhelmed and he could tell. He started his reply with a sentence that filled you with warmth, hope, and a little bit of giddiness. He speaks, teasing you a bit at the end, his face flushing.
“It doesn’t matter what you are or if you have the wings or not, you’re beautiful and you should follow your heart… especially if it’s here.”
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RAFAYEL
Rafayel was a painter “looking for art or inspiration” that you met at an underground event where illegal goods were being sold, but you quickly figured out it was a front. Rafayel was a Lemurian, you sensed it immediately since you weren’t human. As a fae you had the ability to sense certain things, and so did Rafayel. Upon meeting each other at an art exhibition, you quickly exchanged information and agreed to meet up again the next day. You almost simultaneously revealed that you were both after the hunters that destroyed your homes when you finally got to chat alone.
The two of you start to frequent more underground events, both of you being well connected and hiding your true intentions very well. You use the events to gather information and then put your plans into action when your targets are alone. It worked amazingly well, you were both extremely skilled and efficient at what you did. It slowly chipped away at this network that shamelessly destroyed your beautiful homes.
Rafayel was a bit of a loose cannon. The man was so sweet and bashful one second and deadly serious the next. He was so gentle with you but didn’t hesitate when there was business that needed to be done. He could easily switch it on and off too. You were just glad you were on his side of this war.
Both you and Rafayel were out for revenge but something about your partnership changed you two. You both slowly helped each other heal, confiding your worries and traumas in each other. You were still both ruthless when it came to apprehending the people who did you wrong but the tortures stopped and the warmth returned outside of the violence. You two actually started to make good memories and live life instead of just trying to survive. You’d often watch the sunset over the ocean together, it was peaceful and you’d chat about anything and everything.
Eventually, after dozens of raids and missions, Rafayel finds weapons that used to belong to his family at the same time you find your wings again. You kept quiet until the mission was done, knowing you could feel your wings but not wanting to startle Rafayel. You looked at the weapons with him, you put your hand on his back to show your support for him. His eyes stayed glued on the knives and his face was a painful melancholic expression. You rubbed circles into his upper back with your thumb, hoping it could ease some of the pain caused by resurfacing memories.
After ensuring that the weapons would be sent to his personal studio, he continues to explore the mansion with you, following you while you find your wings. You communicated to him about your wings and he knew this would be tough for you too but you were both glad you had each other in this moment.
When you saw your wings in a display case at the end of one of the hallways, you bit back tears. It was a lot to take in. You passed millions of dollars worth of paintings to reach the most priceless thing in this whole building. Rafayel lags slightly behind you, wanting to give you a moment. You turn to face him, telling him that you don’t know if you want the wings back or not. Would they make you complete again? They can’t bring anyone back, can’t take away the pain. You couldn’t hide them like Rafayel could hide his true form, would it be a nuisance?
Rafayel makes his way towards you as you ramble, clearly distressed. He quickly envelopes you in a hug, letting you cry lightly into his chest, a painting of Lucifer on the wall next to you. You stay like that for a while. When he finally pulls back, he cups your face with his hands. You were his fallen angel, he wasn’t always great with his words but he truly spoke from the heart when comforting you like this.
“You never needed these wings to be complete, you’re ethereal with or without them. You’ll always be my angel, no matter what.”
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Thank you for reading!
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|| MASTERLIST<3 ||
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ineffabildaddy · 1 month
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you're a mirror i cannot avoid
south downs crowley pov ficlet for @voluptatiscausa, inspired by this! explicit content incoming!
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I realised something, when we moved here. Discovered something new about you, just when I thought I had nothing more to learn. I made an observation, now that we have a medicine cupboard above the sink in the bathroom, its outer panels silver and shining and reflecting the room just as it appears.
You'd never owned a mirror before.
Not to my knowledge. The bookshop didn't have one, nor did your previous dwellings. If we fed the ducks at St. James's Park, you never gave the water's surface more than a glance. You always loved to pause before shop windows, to admire the Savile Row tailors and the Greenwich Market goods, yet you never stopped quite long enough to catch the sight of your face gazing back at you. Instead, you either ducked into the shop without further ado, or bustled on by.
There's nowhere to duck into now, angel, nowhere to bustle towards. You have nothing to acquire but more moments of me, nowhere to be but where we are.
Maybe that's why I see you looking in that bathroom mirror, sometimes. After all, we are country men, now; there is nothing to do here but sit with oneself, nothing to understand but the intricacies of one's own likeness. I can see you trying, as you always have, to grapple with the meat and bones of yourself. Only now, the worry with which you once attempted to reconcile your self-impression with the cold fist of Heaven has flown, like a restless bird whose mother feared it would fall from the nest, soaring high into the cotton tuft of the springtime clouds in adolescent rebellion.
I like watching you look at yourself. Sometimes, when I see you standing still before the bathroom sink, I slink up from behind you, so you can see me coming.
(You always see me coming, angel. Every time. Even when you greet me, as a French prisoner greets his lawless rescuer, with breath-hitched surprise.)
When I've reached you, I splay one hand out on the broad plane of your shoulder, brush idle fingers against the tense of your thigh. I feel you relax beneath me, my nose buried in your shell-pink cheek, watching you drink this new sight in out of the corner of my eye.
You enjoy this, seeing us together. Not still and unchanging like a photograph, but moving, fluid, alive. Once, I even joked that we should acquire a larger mirror, so you could see the look on my face next time you took me on all fours. You chuckled, and asked me would I get lunch started, because you were off out - you had errands to run in the village.
You took the Bentley, came back with a full-length 'looking glass', as you called it. Used a miracle to get it in the car, used a miracle to get it out again, lost the patience to manoeuvre it up to the bedroom. You unpacked it from its box downstairs while I dished up lunch, tugged me up from my seat and backed me into the drawing room once you had eaten your fill.
You pulled our hips together and gripped my jaw to tip my chin up, to bare my neck for you. I felt the surface of your skin whisper a pearl-white wisp of relief when I pressed the pads of my fingers to your bare forearms, just below your rolled-up sleeves. You sunk your teeth into the flush of my throat, the side of your thumb stroking my collarbone, and my core pulsed, my knees wobbled. You smiled wide against my skin.
I begged for you, of course. It's a practice I maintain, though you never deprive me. It reminds us both of the old days, when we met only under cover of darkness and you handled my cunt like it was a cradled secret.
You had me on my hands and knees, pushing back against the upward curve of your length, in no time. You've always been impatient, angel. You barely mustered the composure required to take me by the waist and angle me just right before the mirror, so hurried was your need to feel my hilt flex on the fat tip of your dick.
(I reckon I know why you're partial to having me this way. Even resting my weight on my elbows, I find it a strain to cover my mouth. You can feel what you do to me when you fill me, from the trembling in my thighs and the sheen of sweat coating the small of my back, where you reach to pin my wrists behind me once I surrender my hands to you and collapse my weight onto my shoulders. Still, you like to hear me, though my whimpers emerge twisted and warped from my mouth, my cheek crushed against the soft carpet.)
It was hard to make out where your gaze was focused, from that angle, but when I did look in the mirror as you fucked me slow and deep, I registered that your eyes were fixed upon yourself. Not with vanity, no - pure pride, as the lower curve of your gut rested on my ass, and the strength of your spine helped you hold me steady with one lengthened arm.
You were seeing yourself as you truly were, as you have always been, though you may not have known it till we arrived in the countryside; my guardian, my protector, my one true equal. Your eyes flickered down towards mine, and though my lids were drooping in languid ecstasy, I knew you saw it all within them; every kindness you allowed me to offer you over the years, every truth you internalised when I expressed it over the millennia.
You saw me, and I saw you, and together, we saw something different in each other, something entirely new; that you were no longer yourself, and I was no longer myself. We were no longer small, separate stars, but one bursting supernova, in which neither of us knew where you ended and where I began. We were changed, in a word, we were home, for the very first time, all our wildest hopes fulfilled.
There's a looking glass in every room, now, each one a different size and shape to the next. New ways of looking, new ways of seeing, abound.
I want to go and feed the ducks again. I want to watch you look in the pond, properly this time.
I want to behold what you will find there.
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thank you so so much for reading!! comments and reblogs are always always appreciated💙 also available to read on ao3 here:
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cagesofgold · 4 months
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plant dad
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leaves that are green - simon and garfunkel 🎧
when you were concerned about your boyfriend's loneliness levels whilst put on a placement for your job out of town, you had no idea your efforts would have this effect.
He had become completely and irrevocably consumed. There were woven baskets with dahlias suspended from the doorways, money trees with thick healthy stems sprouting from rusted pots, and the shadow of a bird of paradise's leaves shrouding the bathroom in a peaceful level of dusk.
Jean had never expressed an interest in nature before. He had a few compositions he'd done for class featuring a clan of withering roses, yet even then he found it less interesting than drawing a card board box.
So, when you came home with a small fairy castle cactus, Jean didn't bat an eyelid, he simply commented on the warm yellow of the flowers standing proudly against the towers of green, and then continued stirring the pot of bubbling pasta.
This is what you had expected of course, but in truth, you knew Jean didn't cope well with being alone, having had the comfort of his mother's gentle humming his entire childhood, and Connie's less comforting humming before he moved in with you.
Although only for three weeks, this would be the longest amount of time you had spent away from Jean, and the longest amount of time he had been by himself. Of course you knew he'd be fine, perhaps just a little bit more clingy after your return, yet still you wanted to leave him a little company when things grew quiet. Of course since your apartment didn't allow pets, you had to settle for a less disruptive method of discreet company.
So you left the cactus, its plain white pot adjacent to the silver tap in the kitchen, with a little sheet of instructions of when to water it.
While away, you texted Jean a handful of times to ensure he was watering it, to which he replied with rather mundane responses like, "Yep." or, "Did it before class."
These responses didn't fill you with confidence, so instead you automatically assumed that your plan had failed, as any individual would.
Except the next day, whilst you sat with your shoulders hunched and body sandwiched between two business men on the subway, you recieved a picture, lighting up your face and making the austere man beside you squint.
It was a picture of the cactus, appearing even more healthy than when you first purchased it from the local market, yet it was the larger figure looming next to it that caught your eye. It was a small moon cactus, stretching upwards with a slight limp, a blood red flower enabling it to appear slightly top heavy. This cactus resided in a black pot, a deep contrast to its lighter counterpart.
"Got her a friend, think they're getting along well. :)"
A smile instantly painted itself onto your face, surprise filling every crevice within you as you typed back,
"Looks like they are :)"
A few days came and went and by now you'd spent about a week and a half at your internship, with only half to go. As you sat at your desk, leafing through a booklet of fabrics for an upcoming collection, your phone buzzed against the desk. Your lock-screen of a picture of Jean filled your view, his tan back facing the camera as he gently pulled his paintbrush across the canvas, a rainbow of paint stains littering his thick forearms. Below this sat a notification, with an attachment from Jean.
You opened the file curiously, waiting a few hesitant moments for it to load, a small circle spiraling around itself before it opened into a web page.
In pink bold letters at the top it read,
MOON AND PRINCESS'S WEDDING
the ecstatic couple would simply be over the, moon, if you could attend the day of which they profess their undying love for each other. Please contact the father of the bride, Jean Kirstein, if you are able to attend.
As you read over the file in confusion, a second text message from Jean came through, bearing a photo of the two cactus standing side by side. The princess castle's previously blank white pot had been transformed into a glittering wedding gown, with a tissue over her head as a makeshift veil, making you giggle. The moon cactus' black pot had become a luxorious tux, with a yellow bow tie to match princess' yellow flowers.
You erupted into laughter, your fingers tapping against the keyboard as you said,
"Tell moon and princess i can't wait."
Over the next week and a half you received copious photos of the new additions to the house, and photographic evidence of Jean's newfound watering can collection that was growing at a concerningly rapid rate.
Part of you was pleased that your plan ended in success, yet you somewhat feared the house you may return to, not fully prepared to weave your way through the newly established jungle.
Yet as you stood in the center of the apartment, surrounded by the loamy smell of soil and the fresh aroma of newly budding flowers, you couldn't help but feel a sense of joy at the tranquil breath of life around you, a rainbow of watering cans of differing sizes running along the top of the kitchen cabinets, with spiky ivy nestled into the chipping windowsills.
"Too much?" Jean asked hesitantly, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind slowly, the hands of which he had tenderly loved the nature around him the past three weeks touching you just as gently.
"It's beautiful, Jean." You smiled.
As you and jean lay in bed that night, tangled up in each other having just ate about as many chicken wings as it would take to feed an army, you felt an immense amount of peace within the fresh air and Jean's loving disposition.
And when Jean suddenly shot up in the middle of the night, the sheets bundling around his carved abdomen, his words didn't surprise you in the slightest, rushing out of the room as he yelled,
"Sorry, babe, i forgot to water the orchids!"
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gabessquishytum · 5 months
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Hob finally won the war for the territory from the Endless Crime Family.
At least initially he was just interested in courting, in the traditional manner even, (what smelled like his mate) Dream Endless. Dream was an artist, he was willowy and gorgeous; he fed birds in the park,,,,,,and he smelled like Hob's.
Hob didn't want a fight, again he respected his mate enough to ask for permission -- Hob Gadling up and coming Alpha in the business, went hat in hand, as best he could muster, to ask the head of the Endless Family, Time, for permission to court his son. Time laughed at Hob, kicked him out, and disparaged Dream to Hob's face, going so far as to say he was selling a 'worthless' Dream off to the Burgess family.
Hob was livid and was willing to go to Dream himself -- Hob tried the respectable way, but he's a fighter and not really all that respectable, so he wasn't really surprised when it didn’t work. Worse was when he tried to seek out Dream on his own, he only got to talk to Dream once or twice before they were ripped away from each other. Then Dream was hidden away,,, from Hob! That was unacceptable!
Hob warned Time that he was coming for his mate; Time didn't seem to believe him or understand that Hob was prepared to go scorched earth -- Hob didn’t need this city if he had Dream.
Time f'ed around and found out. Dream had best be waiting for Hob, unharmed when Hob walks into the Endless mansion.
Oooo we love a bamf Hob moment!
Hob didn't even particularly want the territory or to rule over the city as the biggest boss of them all. He was honestly happy with his black market business and his little protection racket. But Hob has his pride, and he also has Dream to think of now. He can't risk a hair on his mate's head, so he's really got no choice but to go all in.
And Dream is unharmed and fine (if a bit shaken up). Hob finds out that Dream was just hours away from being shipped off to Burgess, and he's so fucking angry about it! But he's not going to do any more damage, because he doesn't want innocent people getting hurt. The best thing he can do now is give Dream power. Hob essentially hands over the city on a silver platter. Everything Dream’s father used to run and more is his now - and Hob has absolute faith that Dream will be magnificent.
Dream can't quite work out why Hob would be so generous, but of course he accepts. And he also accepts a courting proposal. Not because he has to, but because he wants to. His mate is looking and smelling pretty damn fine from where Dream is stand, and he wants.
The underbelly of the city is run by an omega now, but that only means that everything runs much more smoothly and there are far fewer bust-ups over stupid stuff. Dream is the man his father wishes he could have been.
And Hob still has his little black market business and his racketeering on the side. But most of the time he walks around smelling like slick, 24/7. Because he can't get enough of his omega's gorgeous wet cunt, and Dream works so much better when he's let off some steam...
They're a very good team.
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zhongrin · 2 years
Text
i'm here, where you at?
◇ characters ◇ xiao, albedo, zhongli, kazuha, heizou
◇ tags ◇ modern!au, fluff
◇ a/n ◇ i would like to clarify that i do not simp for heizou but everyone around me has been smooching him and although i do not share the same sentiment i wanted to provide some food so enjoy you heizou simps~
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waits silently at the gate, arms crossed, earphones in. no one dares to approach him because of his 'resting bitch face', thank god.
y'all probably expect me to say he's wearing either a leather jacket or a hoodie. well, i say he's wearing a black dress shirt with sleeves rolled up, the first button unbuttoned, and dark-colored slacks. choker and necklace adorning his pretty neck, piercings adorning his ears, golden eyes regularly flitting down his analog watch with each moment spent without you on his sight. i will die on this hill and none of you can change my mind.
he leads you to his motorcycle and hands you your helm with a silent question in his eyes. it's the same question every time and you already know what your answer is - because every single time you would choose to spend the rest of your day with him rather than having him deliver you home.
"you're late today. did something happen?"
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another one who waits silently at the gate. big chance that he's sketching something when you spot him. but if klee is tagging along, then he's probably busy trying to make sure she doesn't wander too far.
soft knitted sweater or simple collared shirt with a warm, neutral-colored tone. the perfect embodiment of casual-soft-light-academia style. smiles softly when you tap his shoulder to gain his attention or when klee spots you and runs into your arms.
leads you to his car parked just on the parking lot nearby (klee has shotgun if she is there though). if you're alone, he holds the steering wheel with one hand and your hand in the other as he makes some small talk.
"how was your day, starlight? mine was... eventful. would you like to hear all about it?"
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pulls up with his fancy-ass bmw right in front of you. probably dressed formally since he came by after a client meeting. a total head turner. if you have friends or coworkers waiting with you they would probably gawk in awe.
smiles as soon as his eyes meet yours and kisses your cheek as a greeting. you're swooning. your friends are swooning. the elderly couples across the street are swooning. hell, even the birds are probably swooning (cue 'close to you' playing in the background).
greets your friends with a polite smile. opens and closes the car door for you. whoever says chivalry is dead clearly hasn't met this man before.
launches into his full storyteller mode as he drives. has no need for a gps. will not hold your hand while he drives because safety first, but will kiss your fingers gently if you try to reach out for his hand.
you caught him wearing glasses one time and hoo whew no wonder he stars in the commercials of his company himself. his marketing people know what they're doing, alright.
"hm? glasses? oh. apologies, i seem to have forgotten to take it off. i just came from a meeting with a client, and had to read through a rather extensive contract document- .... i should wear it often, you say? hmm. i suppose if it makes you blush so endearingly, then i should."
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some days he has his bicycle with him, but more often than not, he walks to your workplace/campus. you probably have an outdoor spot where you always promise to meet at, either at a nearby park or some cute coffee shop.
he always spots you before you do, smiling quietly as he watches you look around for him. if he's feeling mischievous you might get a text saying cute things like "wrong direction, dove." or "i spy with my humble eye, a sparrow looking for its sky &lt;;3"
when you do spot him in his oversized sweater, silver strands pulled back in a low side ponytail with the hair tie you lost a week ago, it feels like you're finally home. "i've been looking for that for the whole week!!" "what do you mean, love? it's mine?? c:"
"there you are, maple. the day has been painfully slow for me today. i missed you."
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sneaks up behind you every. single. time. and he's always so playful about it too: he'll cover your eyes, poke your sides, blow into your ears, anything to make you jump and scold him with that cute angry pout. always apologizes half-heartedly afterward and gives you a little something on the side - your favorite snack or drink, an odd thing he picked up along the way, or random small trinkets you don't know what to use for ("'zou, the hell am i going to use a smoking pipe for??" "you pose with it and look cool, duh!")
this boy is a fashion icon, with his dyed hair and #ootd. he's always keeping up with trends, unafraid of trying out a new style, and would even take requests from you. though his favorite is always when you ask him to match your outfits together!
he'll gladly walk with you to the nearest park, mall, cafe, or even either one of your houses, all the while recounting the latest development in the cases he's working on, your hands linked tightly around each other and swinging to the rhythm of your synchronized steps.
"guess who~ mm, ding ding ding! as expected of my partner! you're right on time, too! let me guess, some extra work came in and you had to run a few errands, hence you ran late today.... was i spot on? heh, what can i say, my deductive logic is unparalleled!"
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© zhongrin | 2022 ◆ no repost. reblogs much appreciated. feel free to reach out to submit suggestions, feedback, comments, or if you just want to talk!
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liminalmemories21 · 8 months
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Lim! It’s me! I request 8 please 🥺
So, umm, I got a little carried away?
There'd been a shelf of cookbooks in the condo, before it burned down.  Cookbooks that Carlos had bought when he was in college and experimenting with learning how to make Indian food and Thai food and pasta from scratch, books he'd bought at school fundraisers and church Christmas markets, books he'd been given as housewarming presents when he moved into the condo.  
When he moved into the loft he realized that Carlos had never replaced them, and even though Carlos hadn't left a space for them in the kitchen, he felt like he could see it anyway, where they would have sat.
He goes on a quest after that.  Some of them are easy to replace from alibris or bookfinder: the 1964 edition of the Joy of Cooking - because apparently the new edition had fucked around with all the recipes, Carlos's words, not his, and he'd stared at Carlos shocked when he'd said it because Carlos doesn't swear all that often unless he's in bed; a soup cookbook from some celebrity chef from the 90s that he's seen Carlos make exactly two recipes out of; a copy of the Silver Palate cookbook that someone at work had given him at a holiday gift exchange.
The church cookbooks and Junior League cookbooks are harder to find, and he takes to scouring second hand bookstores and antique stores and thrift shops on his days off when Carlos is at work.  Sometimes he drags Nancy or Marjan or Paul with him.  
"Why are we doing this?" Nancy grouses once.  "I've never seen Carlos use a recipe for anything."
"That's not the point," he snaps, and Nancy backs off with sympathetic eyes.
And, it isn't.  The point is that this is something Carlos had lost that he could maybe give back.  He's never going to be able to replace the pie bird that Carlos bought at the farmer's market when he was 12, or the old wooden rolling pin that had been his abuela's, worn smooth with time and use, or the butter molds his cousin Anna had brought him back from a trip to France.  But this, is something he can do.
It takes longer than he expects, and he ends up with more books than had been in Carlos's collection originally.  But he hadn't been able to resist them, the ones with cheery titles like "Nightingales in the Kitchen" and "Charlottesville: Cooking for Compliments", or the ones filled with someone else's handwritten edits that say things like 'never make this again' or 'add orange juice' or 'your husband will thank you'.
He meant to wait for Carlos's birthday, but he gets impatient, and packs them all in a banker's box and sticks a huge red bow on it, and makes brisket for dinner.  Carlos sniffs appreciatively when he comes home, and doesn't even notice the box on the table until he's coming back from hanging up his coat.
Carlos looks at him, clearly trying to remember if he's forgotten something, and he shakes his head.  "No reason, baby, just because."
"It's not a lizard is it?"
He snorts.  "I wouldn't do that to you, I promise.  You'll like this."
Carlos lifts the books out slowly, turning them over in his hand, stacking them up on the table.  He finally looks at TK.  'I had these at the condo."  He nods. "You bought them for me?"  He nods again, worrying his lip a little, suddenly nervous.  "Why?"
"You kept them, they meant something to you, they had memories for you.  I hate that you lost everything."  He waves a hand when Carlos starts to deny it, or point out that TK did too.  "I know, I was there too, I lost things too.  But, I'd only just moved in, I still had stuff at Dad's.  That was a home you built, and you lost it, and we don't talk about it."  He shifts on his feet, fidgeting with the couch cushion.  "We don't have to talk about it now, just, I wanted you to have something back."  He gestures around the loft. "You give me so much.  You deserve to have everything too."
Carlos kneels up on the couch, wrapping arms around him, kissing him breathless.  He smiles into the kiss.  "You like them then?"
"I love them."  Carlos kisses him again.  "I love you."  And then he pulls back to look speculatively at the kitchen.  "We'll have to rearrange some of the cups to make space for them."
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sadsnek · 3 months
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sonic and cooking head canons
sonic. no way he knows a lot of modern home cooking if any home cooking when he knows he can just buy it or have dinner with tails / amy, BUT he should know basic foraging and gathering by now and has plenty experience cooking on a camp fire.
tails. is better at meal prep then cooking or at least he thinks he is why spend so much time making 2 to 3 meals a day every day when he can just make 3 meals and increase the ingredients by 700% and save the rest for the other days of the week but he will cook somthing fresh when he has guest over, if you can consider boiled hot dogs fresh that is.
amy. she is a great home cook and will cook with cream vanilla and big from time to time, the problem is when she wants to get fancy and trys to make a new recipe and has full confidence when she is in reality way over her head, and it dosent matter what she is making she will say "and now the secret ingredient" its love the secret ingredient is love and its not much of a secret if its the secret ingredient in every thing she cooks.
knuckles. similar to sonic but has the benefit of being on the same island all the time, he doesnt have a oven or any electric equipment but he does have some primitive stuff like a mortar and pestle, plus knuckles should have a garden some where on the island yeah its over grown and poorly kept but its still a place where he can get some snacks.
cream and vanilla. these two are the best cooks in town even better than amy any thats ok because they are happy to invite people over for dinner and if you cook with them you will probably learn some thing new, also the serving sizes are pretty big as vanilla is most defiantly the tallest person in town.
eggman. in thought he is a master chief but in action he has not cooked in years think about it the food he eats is more than good enough to keep up his large shape despite all the mechanics work he does and he had to program or train his robots to cook at some point, so he know how to work a kitchen but he is so busy and he has robots that can do it for him so he probably never cooks more than once a month or even less.
shadow. he is a picky eater with a nostalgic taste in food so he knows how to cook food but nothing passed the 60s, and despite not making any thing trendy or popular he at least knows he will make some thing he will eat.
rouge. its fair to say she likes to eats high class how she gets the money for these lavish meals is well not all ways moral, but she is willing to eat some thing simple when at social gatherings most defiantly if she does not have to pay for it.
omega. I dont know if it is said or not if they have a animal powering them but if they do that bird is getting ripped(its probably a flicky) we are talking protein powder steroids fresh salad, it does not matter if its weird and maybe traumatic to feed them chicken and rice but thats what professional marshal artist eat so thats what omegas power source eats too!
charmy. he makes peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the mourning for school days/work days and is proud of them.
espio. he is well known at the asian market and knows how to cook but does not get to learn any thing expensive or fancy ether for price and schedule issues.
vector. boy he has been trough the rough of it he knows how to feed 3 people on 400$ a month, and thats by hanging out at vanillas house.
team hooligan. bark and fang probably know some recipes but bean is a chemical fanatic one minute there making muffins and the next minute there pulling out a whole tray of crystal meth.
silver. i dont think he has a steady supply of food is most apocalyptic futures so he just likes to eat a pound of dry cement for breakfast.
surge and kit. they use to get fresh meals when starline was around, but now they got use to the effort of MREs if it takes more effort than poring water in a thermal bag then its worth the effort to just mug some one for some diner cash.
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algrimthestrong · 3 months
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@beautiful-mischief
Turning around on the threshold, Aednan glanced back at the two humans – husband and wife – that had hosted him for the night. The pair lay peacefully among the rumpled sheets, perhaps dreaming of their handsome companion, their joined hands resting gently on the spot he had recently vacated, unconsciously searching for his warmth. The elf had taught them a thing or two about sharing, but now it was time for him to take his leave. As tempting as it was to slip back into bed with them and extend their tryst into the morning hours, Aednan had made it a rule to never stay long enough for the haze of desire to clear. Humans had an awful habit of tainting a casual dalliance with unnecessary emotion and the elven prince disliked nothing more than having to listen to the lamentations of a besotted lover who attached more meaning to a momentary intimacy than it deserved.
His lips curled into a satisfied smile as he pulled the door to the little cottage closed behind him. It was still dark outside. Morning mist clung to the dew-bejewelled grass and birds had just begun to sing. He stretched his arms above his head, relishing the aches of a night spent in amorous play. Aednan lingered for a moment longer outside the humans' home, considering his next steps. He did not quite feel like returning to his realm just yet and so he decided to make his way back into the village instead to see if there might be anything worthy of his attention. Perhaps he would even find another pretty human to play with.
The sun had barely crested the horizon by the time he arrived at the village square, where merchants were busy setting up their stalls for the day. Casting a simple glamour on himself to disguise his elfin features, Aednan began to leisurely stroll around the market. Most of the goods were standard fare, fresh local produce and various handicrafts, nothing that managed to pique his interest, but a gorgeous display of flowers – specifically, the human manning it – warranted a closer look, chestnut brown hair framing a fair face with deep blue eyes and rosy cheeks making him stop in front of the stall. Though his looks had been the first thing that had stirred Aednan's curiosity, there was something else about the man that beckoned the elf, an air of something vaguely familiar.
"A very good morning to you," Aednan greeted the man, amethyst eyes flicking over him, taking him in. "That's a lovely assortment you've got here." He bent to smell a pristine white rose, his long, silver-blond hair spilling over his shoulders. After a moment, he straightened again and flashed the merchant a smile, a playful lilt slipping into his tone with his next observation, "Though the loveliest flower is certainly found behind your stall, so radiant and full of grace."
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Text
Vigil. idril & aredhel. ao3.
TW: references to kidnapping, implied/referenced sexual assault.
"Aunt," said Idril, rather stiffly, where once she would have used her name, and would not have asked at all. "Might I join you?"
Aredhel fought the urge to bare her teeth, and kept her eyes on the crowded clouds above.
Pink-washed and round-bellied, west-bound. The wind was fierce with currents only clouds and birds sailed, but the courtyard Aredhel had chosen for her rest was well-sheltered, the stone rich with heat.
It had been some effort, to go the long way alone; but she had a cane, and a son to lean on. She had been weary and pained enough to send the son gladly away; and be gladdest of all to be alone.
She heard Idril come, her silver feet making their familiar song upon the mosaics of Gondolin's courts. That was more kindness she was used to in Nan Elmoth, where many things scurried, and few gave a warning of their proximity.
A glorious warmth seeped into her bones. She had been so cold, in Nan Elmoth. Not a first - but it was a damp mist that sank through the skin, a dizzying weariness. Sunlight - only occasionally. Eöl kept to the starlit-ways. 
Aredhel had kissed Arien Sun-Star once, and crowed to voicelessness when first she saw hard land, and thawing frost. She had missed this - it made her angry so. What a waste of years she might have spent otherwise.
And still Idril was waiting. It was not kind, to set a test upon her; but Aredhel could not do otherwise. And it was good to know Idril would wait; that she was not so changed as to have lost her persistence.
"Sit, if you like," Aredhel said. "I am not your master, to tell you what you might do."
Her voice sounded rough with long illness to her own ears, but she took her time gathering it in her throat, made it strong. In her sujourn under the curling boughs of Nan Elmoth, it had been needful to speak, and always it had been done with effort. She might have forgotten the sound of her own words, let them fade entirely.
Was he your master, then, Idril thought. Were you not free to do as you would, even to sit in the sun?
Aredhel did not hear it, but she knew her niece. The same wisdom that kept Idril's thought away from the walls that Aredhel had raised about her mind would make her draw conclusion. 
Not the wrong ones. They spoke in Sindarin. Aredhel was not certain yet she would speak the language of her people again; if she could, even inside the high walls of Gondolin, where Quenya was used in the market, in the king's chambers, in songs of devotions.
Gondolin's benches were wide and sturdy enough; two might lay abreast, and not touch.
Idril's hair smelled of laurel and honey, still. Few things had made Aredhel's eyes sting on her return to Gondolin. The white stone shimmering in the heat had been a great relief, but an indifferent one, as a hunted beast might feel at the sight of a cave or a tall branch. Now only did Aredhel feel - how familiar it was. This smell, Idril's closeness, the whirring machinery of her mind close enough they might have shared a moment of wry understanding, as they had so many times before.
They did not touch.
Now a small army of cirrocumulus overhead, sweet clouds all following on one another. She had tried to teach Lómion the different cloud names, but he had not the love for the skies that she did. Her son was busy in the forges. He had found his source of warmth, learned at his father's side. Aredhel had loved him less the day she understood he would not need to live as she did.
Possibly her measuring scale of love had grow skewered. O, now Turgon never would allow her out! But the worst of it was that she was tired. Not her wound alone caused it, though that healed slowly regardless.
 She willed herself to see it - herself on horseback again, crossing fields of clover, narrow passes. Her body thrummed with exhaustion at the thought of it. 
The high noon sun pressed against their lids, turned the world to a blinding gilt. Idril surely felt Aredhel's fever rising, the warmth that rose from her skin; but Idril was wise, and knew how to measure her silence. Aredhel had forgotten a little, how worthy her niece was.
At times dark shadows swirled overhead through the clouds. Slow, broad wings high above, coming from all corners of the mountainside.
The vultures that fed most often by Amon Gwareth had flown days ago to the city walls for a feast: Eöl, they cried. Eöl is dead. More and more came, eager, hungry.
 As a widow she had woken from near-death, knowing with rare foresight that her body would not be her own, and whole and hale again, until Eöl was eaten entire, bowels and eyeballs and marrow. Aredhel of Gondolin waited.
It was a good wait; long enough to learn the skies again, to be sun-warm all the way through.
She touched her fingertips lightly to Idril's, when it was done, and felt her stir, her thought turning to Aredhel, a constrained joy and grief and relief. But Aredhel was in no hurry, and did not wish to open her heart again, nor leave to return to her chambers; not till the last birds of rapine were borne slowly away in the wind.
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vacantgodling · 2 months
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PARAMOUR WORLDBUILDING IN FULL
(subject to change and get more detailed but dw about it tbh)
With a population of 9 million, the country of GALERÈ is the most populous in the world and boasts the most technological advancements to upkeep with its growing populous. despite this, galerians are known to be quite self-interested and self-important, only seeking to trade with other lands in the markets of furs and luxury goods. The Sierra Blanco mountain range is a wealth of precious gems, minerals, and crystals, and its inland rolling hills and rich soil are ideal for intensive agriculture, which are its main exports, aside from the usual weaponry and technology that they shell out to the highest bidders. As it is a self-interested nation it holds and boasts no allies, and prefers to stay out of any international conflicts.
The country itself is broken into 8 districts:
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DUCAT ⟶ it is a wealthy district that is known for its innovation and beautiful coastline. the interior (especially within ducat the city’s limits) are fully walkable with convenient open and closed top trolleys that run trough the streets, not to mention the plethora of personal and private airships. it is here that true galerian culture can flourish, boasting the hostage of all the chamber at their bi-annual summits, as well as The Commander and The Duchess as permanent residents.
NOTABLE PLACES:
DUCAT CITY — the capital of galere and where the royal family resides. it sits within the shadow of the lone mountain LE BASTION, its peak said to be the home of The Commander, who takes his role of overlooking the city very seriously.
LA PALAIS DU CITRON — home of The Duchess, which is surrounded by, as the name suggests, her succulent, decadent, and always ripe lemon trees. it is no secret that the duchess claims that all beauty comes from lemons and many wealthy women of Ducat City, especially those of the duchess’s inner circle, incorporate a healthy dose of lemons into their beauty regimes.
COEUR d’ENTRIX — the grand airship docking station that is a hub of trade and mercantilism in the central ducat area. the most intricate of ships are produced and launched here and are a spectacle for all to see.
CITADEL ROYALE d’ARGENT BENEAUX (The Royal Citadel of Silver Benaux) — named for the beneaux royal family, who took the crown in galere with the assistance of the chamber in 842PC, the palace was constructed with help from all aspects of the chamber. it is the main palace where the reagent resides.
BIRD’S CLAW BEACH ⟶ the only portion of Ducat’s beautiful coastline that is marred by rocks and black sand; a prison was built here to make “better usage” of the space and it is for high profile criminals and those who are awaiting execution. daily activities for prisoners include being made to go on a daily lap around the prison, which is in view of beach goers—usually the uber wealthy who will jeer and mock prisoners from their vantage point.
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HALIFAX ⟶ the most important district when it comes to the events of PARAMOUR. while not the most violent region of galere, Lower Halifax, which lies between the halifax river and le petit hali (the main river’s smaller and more winding tributary), is and always has been, a large slum. on the eastern side of the halifax river lies the rolling agricultural foothills that are said to be the most beautiful scenery in all of inland Galere. to the northwest and on the western side of le petit hali lies Uptown Halifax, which is an up and coming region all on its own thanks to the harbor. As it is a main import hub for much of the rest of the world, all foreign goods pass through Uptown and her markets before they even make it to Ducat City. Ducat and Ducat City are known for being old money, but there’s no secret that the reason The Keeper has chosen to make its home here is because of the newfound wealth and mercantalism that are beginning to thrive, with The Nautical Spokes, currently managed by Myrtus Spokes making the most waves in reliable traders.
NOTABLE PLACES:
CHATEAU AUX AISLES D’OR (The Castle of Guilded Wings) — is the main setting for PARAMOUR, and the floating home of The Keeper and later his next bride and our main character Hyacinthus Shrapnel, offshore and above the ocean. travel to and from this magnificent, isolated palace can only be achieved via airship, and many are always vying to make their presence known to potentially gain the favor of its elusive owner. 
CENTRAL HALIFAX — while still apart of the general barriers of lower halifax, central is where money meets squalor and is the home of the famous arena-tavern THE NIMBUS (which also serves as the headquarters of The Lock gang under the tutelage of Knox), as well as the famous WHITE ORCHID OPERA HOUSE. it is more densely populated than the rest of Lower Halifax, which has become sparse as people move closer to the harbor to look for work.
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LA CASTRA ⟶ the religious epicenter of Galere and the home of both the most grandiose temple to the three divines, as well as The Bishop himself, La Castra’s populous is both inordiently poor, but is regarded as the most pious in all of the nation. What piety looks like is quite questionable, and the management practices of La Castra (its towns run by priests) has been in contention with the crown for decades now. cutting through it is the gate of divinity river, considered a blessed and holy river that can bathe away one’s sins. 
NOTABLE PLACES: 
SANCTUARIE D’ORAGE (Temple of the Storms) — the largest temple in all of Galere dedicated to The Shepherd, it looms over the citadel of La Castra like a bad omen; stretching so high into the sky that it obscures the view of airships, and almost seems like it touches the sun in broad daylight. it is at this temple that The Bishop does all his sermons and it is here where new priests are ordained, making it a major location for PARAMOUR as well. underneath the temple’s hallowed halls, a large labyrinth of catacombs resides—hiding the most ancient of relics in all of Galere’s history in its bone-lined walls.
THE FORTRESSE D’HUMBLE HERBE (The Fortress of Humble Grass) — floats adjacent to Sanctuarie D’Orage with a glass walkway connecting it to the temple’s upper echelon rooms. it is how The Bishop makes his way too and from sermons so as to not put too much strain on his frail body. while it appears run down and demure on the outside, its inner walls are adorned with large statues and murals of religious significance and jade pillars uphold its ceilings. certainly a metaphor for the inner religion’s greed, if nothing else.
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QUAN MA ⟶ the most violent and underdeveloped region in all of galere, minus the region encircled by THE FORTUITOUS OUTER GATE, which is a large fortress wall that separates the wealthy of quan ma from the poor and desolate outskirts. It also protects the smaller, but elder port of ma, which is where The Nautical Spokes first got their start. quan ma is actually where the titular Gunn Family originates, but after the death of its patriarch, Clematis Gunn, the siblings scattered to different locals in Galere.
NOTABLE PLACES:
QUAN MA CITY — the only proper city in the district, but also rife with riff-raff and slum fodder; pollution leaks through the streets making it unpleasant even for the rich to make their home there. the only reasons to stay are the harbor; but as halifax’s harbor continues to elevate itself, much of the wealthy also begin to take flight and leave the city to its fate. 
THE PEAK OF DARKNESS — the tallest mountain in all Galere, which lies smack in the middle of quan ma and is surrounded by a blackened, burnt forest and then once again surrounded by another large structure: THE WRETCHED WALL to contain the perceived evil within. in the religious doctrine of The Three Divines it is here that the Vat of Darkness resides. the holiday Solemnity of the 9th Sunday aka The Observation of the Dark (Observation de L’Obscurité) is centered around The Bishop and his most favored priests traveling to the foothills of this mountain and offering luxurious foods and sacrifices, as well as continuing the arson of local vegetation of the area to strengthen The Savior who is atop the mountain holding the vat closed. climbing the mountain and even entering it on a whim are strictly prohibited and will result in execution on sight.
DEBTOR’S LABYRINTH — in the north of quan ma’s badlands, there lies a prison for those who have committed lesser evils, mainly those who have fallen into abject poverty and are unable to pay back their debts. the name is exactly what it says it is, and it is a labyrinth where you are forced to live in—disoriented—until your sentence is up. however, because the labyrinth is isolating, booby trapped, and there are rarely any guards who properly oversee the prison, getting sent here is essentially a death sentence (unless you can find your way out and escape).
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DALRY ⟶ the sister district to Ducat and home of the traditionalist movement. despite this, dalry enjoys an abundance of wealth and prosperity across the board for all social classes, due to its idyllic location in the river basin of the halifax river and the gate of divinity river, which adjoin and create the beautiful, tiered dalry falls to the east. simple living enthusiasts as well as lords and ladies with their sights set on land and property flock to dalry and it is believed to be the place with the net-happiest galarian population.
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OMBEROSÈ ⟶ the most mountainous region of Galere, much of the population here is dedicated to grazing animals as well as trading from the other bordering countries to Galere’s north. it boasts the sierra blanco (white saw) mountain range that stretches partially into Quan Ma. the entire region is the second least populous district in all of Galere, but it is becoming more and more a destination location to get away from the bustles of city life. it is the only place in Galere that has a strong folkish following; emphasizing the importance of galerian tradition at its roots, before The Three Divines caught wind in the country.
NOTABLE PLACES:
OMBEROSE CITY — the only “metropolis” area that omberose has to boast, however that is a far cry from any of the other major cities that the rest of Galere has to offer. while humble, the city itself is vibrant with brightly colored buildings that represent the mountains, sea, and sunset (important pinnacles in galerian tradition), and is abundant with greenery.
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VAPPES ⟶ taking its name from the second century galerian word for vapid, it is an archipelago that borders Dalry and is the true resort location for any and all travelers. its mild climate and beautiful beaches make it the hottest real estate market in all galere, however, it is marred only by the jagged and larger so, BIRD’S TALON POINT. it shares jurisdiction of the largest island off Galere’s coast, UN CACCHORO with the much smaller, newer district of DOS LEONES and the fighting along that border can become quite fierce.
NOTABLE PLACES: 
UN CACCHORO — is the largest island to the southwest point of bird’s talon point. despite not being as scenic as Vappes itself, the contention over it between the two districts is fierce, even resulting in blows being exchanged. the crown has little interest in quelling these uprisings so they continue to rage unchecked and have done significant damage to the island.
BIRD’S TALON POINT — these jagged foothills are the only area in Vappes that receive snow during the winter months, and thus become a popular and more accessible destination for the increasing popularity of winter sports.
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DOS LEONÈS ⟶ though it is a district, many think that’s just a formality to justify the existence of the 3 islands that are just off the coast of Bird’s Talon Point. they are barely inhabited and are usually used as pirating ports or as criminal hideaways. even still, the powers that be in Galere’s upper echelon of Ducat continue to engage in spats over the larger island UN CACCHORO, staking a claim on the southern half of the island for themselves.
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