but he is still beautiful at heart

anonymous asked:

i think you are doing great by addressing you are not comfortable with talking about deku as sexy considering he is a child (maybe it also has to do with the fact im 19 so i know how you feel bc yes he is a kid) but who do you think is the sexiest teacher/hero? (if you dont mind answering)

thank you so much, you have no idea how much you’ve eased my anxiety. i wasn’t sure how well my reluctance would be accepted. i’m happy no one seems to be offended c:

to answer your question, until the most recent arc i’d have said mt. lady. but another beautiful lady has caught my attention: bubble girl. she’s just,,, so dang pretty. be still my beating heart!

(Dunno if you take submissions and if not then I apologize.)
It’s Halloween 24/7 and you can’t tell me otherwise.
This is an au where Jeff is a zombie, Tim/Masky is a vampire, Jane is a witch, Kate is a scarecrow and Toby is the headless horseman. Smiledog is huge (around the size of a Tennessee Walker) and acts as his horse. Ben is still a ghost but it’s cool because I guess Toby is now as well? He can go without the pumpkin as shown above but it’s much more unsettling that way.”

—–

[Yeah I take submissions when isn’t asks]

I love it with all my heart omg

IT’S BEAUTIFUL!!!!

So, I was lucky enough to get into the CMBYN screening last night...

What can I say??? Beautiful. An incredible tribute to an incredible book. In the summer of 2014 I just happened to catch this book in the tiny LGBT section in Barnes and Nobles and my heart was never the same. After watching the film last night, my heart is still warm. I woke up this morning feeling like I was in love. That’s the effect this movie had on me. 

Originally posted by lovepeacexxoo


Timothée is simply brilliant. He IS Elio. No one else could have done it better. That movie is HIS. He carried the whole thing in his skinny ass shoulders. People will not be forgetting his name anytime soon. Thank you Timothée. 


Armie was excellent. Again, perfect casting for smooth Oliver. I was really impressed by his performance. He proved that he is more than a pretty Hollywood face.  


André Aciman, the writer, had a great cameo. He could not have been a more perfect character. Loved every second. 


Elio’s conversation with his dad near the end. Goosebumps. 


The ending sequence. OMG. 


In conclusion, good job Luca.  

Originally posted by whatabigpairofgifs

6

Misawa day theme: Development

Miyuki and Sawamura relationship development

“Freed in the Rain” - Miraculous Ladybug Soulmates AU Fanfic

Guys, I wrote my very first solo ML fanfic!  I usually only do the drawings for fanfic collaborations but this time I wanted to try doing both!  I wrote it for @chocoluckchipz‘s birthday!  HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LUCKY!!!  @maerynn-blog, @kryallaorchid, @midnightstarlightwrites and myself wrote oneshots all with a Soulmates AU theme.  Here it is on Ao3 (I wrote Chapter 4)  

Author’s Notes:  Everyone knew that if you had a soulmate, you would know them by the first time you touched.  Skin-to-skin contact would show you all of your soulmate’s memories, and would result in an immediate bond and passionate fidelity.


“I’ve never been to school before.  I’ve never had friends. It’s all sort of new to me.”  Adrien shrugged sheepishly and turned back towards Marinette.

He smiled, holding his umbrella out to her.

An olive branch, she realized. An invitation to start over.  Marinette thought back of how quickly and harshly she misjudged him; he was but another victim of her tendency to act first and act questions later.

He hadn’t deserved such treatment and here he was, taking the initiative to make things right. Her stomach fluttered, and had she not been so tongue-tied she would have apologized, but nothing came out.

A crash of thunder brought her back from her reverie and she blinked.

She hesitantly lifted her hand, wavered for a moment, then their hands brushed together as the umbrella was exchanged.

Thousands of words and feelings came rushing towards them at once, so sudden and overwhelming that they fell helpless to its current, a tumultuous river of events and places. They could not tear their eyes away from each other, the realization of what was occurring rooting them to the spot, otherwise they might have collapsed right then and there from the shock.

The world ceased to be, and all that existed was a boy and a girl.  A cacophony of voices and emotions surrounded them, unheard to anyone else, accompanied by the quiet spattering of early autumn rain.

Adrien felt warmth. The smell of butter and sugar, the taste of hot chocolate and cinnamon. Lingering embraces, playful pats on the head, a mother’s love and comfort. Strong arms and tight hugs, excited hollers, mashing buttons on videogame controllers. A homey, comfortable bedroom, a haven from the world. Pinpricks on fingertips, the act of plunging into an artistic frenzy, and the satisfaction from when a creation turned out just right. Tripping, slipping, stumbling here and there, always seeming to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Numerous insecurities, the bullying and mocking from a sneering face he knew very well. Overwhelming self doubt as a certain pair of earrings was hidden away in a drawer. Gentle hands on her shoulders, encouraging words, and a reassuring smile from a black clad teammate. The surge of newfound confidence as she purified corruption and evil in the form of a black butterfly.

Marinette felt cold. Countless faceless figures staring, prodding, scrutinizing, empty praises, blinding flashes and camera shutters. A stunning woman with golden hair and emerald eyes, once a source of comfort, gone. The constant feeling of loneliness, abandonment and despair. The infrequent acknowledgement from the one man he wanted to please the most. His large, empty bedroom, a glass prison meticulously outfitted just for him and his boundless solitude. The feeling of the crisp air in his lungs and the burning in his legs from the very first time he sprinted and jumped across Parisian rooftops to see how fast he could go. The thrill of watching the girl in red who was meant to be his other half, brilliant and beautiful, rescuing his childhood friend from certain death, formulating ingenious strategies, and defeating a magical giant made of stone.  Sheer pride at seeing her succeed against her fears and become not just a hero, but a symbol of goodness. The love brimming within his heart, spilling over into what used to be emptiness. How can such a broken heart still house such great love and kindness?  Her eyesight became blurred by tears, unbidden and unstoppable.

It lasted merely an instant but it felt like a lifetime, and the teens pulled away from each other as if they’d been shocked by electricity.   Neither made a move but continued to stare, the tears kept flowing, and Adrien choked back a sob.  

They had found each other.  Partners, yes, but also something more.  

The light to his darkness.

The calm to her chaos.

Something rare and wonderful had been gifted to them and fate had allowed them to meet and become complete.  

Marinette jolted forward, wrapping her arms around Adrien’s waist as tightly as she was able, wanting to offer whatever solace she could, the comfort and love he so desperately needed, fiercely determined to try to make up for all those years of neglect and loneliness.

He clung to her as if she would disappear at any moment, almost convinced that this was too good to be true, too wonderful, too miraculous.

Feelings of protectiveness and devotion consumed him, not understanding how he could harbor such intense love for someone he didn’t know.  But he did know her, and she knew him.

More than anyone else in the world ever did.

The umbrella lay forgotten on the pavement as the two teens embraced in the rain, not noticing or caring that they were getting drenched, for the love that was shared between them was more than enough to keep them warm.

wingardium-letmefuckyou  asked:

Hey, I love your gods&monsters series, could you write something about Apollo? ^Preferably something with a positive vibe, something romantic... But that's totally up to you, anything about Apollo makes me happy

Apollo has many sons.

He only ever has nine daughters.

~

He has his first when he’s young, too young to know better.

Daphne is beautiful and coy, and leads him on a merry chase. He catches her, and finally silences her laughing mouth with his own. They sleep together, and she leaves bite marks up his neck.

Her father, the river god Peneus, finds out about them. Apollo had not known it was secret. Peneus is a hard, selfish god, and he slits Daphne’s throat for her impurity. Better a dead daughter then one who does not listen.

Apollo finds out too late. He arrives to Daphne dead on the side of her father’s riverbank, stomach swollen in a way Apollo doesn’t remember it being the last time he saw her, which was – which was – it couldn’t have been that long, could it?

He cuts open her stomach, throat too tight to call for his sister’s help, heart too tight to bear anyone else looking at Daphne’s slack, bloody face.

The child is still warm.

The child is still alive.

He cannot bring himself to bury Daphne, to sentence her to an afterlife beneath the earth. Instead, he transforms her into a large laurel tree, so her beauty will remain eternal. He presses a hand against her trunk and says, “My hair will have you, my lyre will have you, my quiver will have you.” Apollo looks down at the baby, too small, tucking into the crook of his arm. “Our daughter will have you.”

He calls her Calliope. Their daughter weaves laurel leaves into her hair every day of her life.

~

When he is older, but not wiser, he gets drunk on the top of Olympus. It is not the first time, nor the last, but this time it is different.

This time Hestia, goddess of the hearth, of warmth, of family, places her delicate hand around the back of his neck and leads him to her rooms.

Months later, he lands his chariot, the sun finally set. His arms are shaking, and his legs are covered from burns when the sun grew tired and tried to consume him, but could not. Hestia stands before him, something held in her arms. “What’s wrong?” he asks roughly, throat dry and the skin of his lips cracking. Hestia rarely leaves Olympus.

“I am no mother,” she tells him, and he doesn’t understand until she places a warm, squirming bundle in his arms. He holds it to his chest automatically. “Her name is Terpsichore.”

She leaves before he has the chance to question her. He looks down, and the baby has his golden eyes and her dark hair. “Hello, little one.”

Calliope is fully grown now. Apollo leaves Terpsichore in her care, and promises to come when called.

“Yes, Father,” Calliope says, rolling her eyes as her little sister grabbing fistfuls of her curly hair. There’s an ink smudge across her face, and her home is bursting with books. He should really talk to Athena about letting Calliope use one of her libraries.

He kisses both their foreheads before leaving.

~

Apollo falls in love with a Spartan prince, graceful and strong and with a wide, pretty mouth. He falls in love with a mind that can match him, with a smile that leaves him breathless. Hyacinth captures his affections and attentions utterly, and for a few short years Apollo is enchanted, for a few short years Apollo feels a love deep in his chest that is only surpassed by the love he has for his sister.

Then Hyacinth is killed.

He shows up at his daughters’ door, and Calliope and Terpsichore take one look at him and usher him inside. He can’t bring himself to speak, but he’s covered in blood that isn’t his own, is pale and shaken and mourning.

They clean him and care for him and settle him to bed, although he cannot bring himself to sleep.

Less than a week later, there is a mortal woman there looking for him. Her eyes are red, but she stands tall and her lips are pressed into a straight line. A toddler who shares her dark coloring clutches her skirt. “I am the Princess of Sparta, and wife of Hyacinth.”

Apollo hadn’t known Hyacinth had a wife. He hadn’t asked. Surely he would have noticed – but then again, perhaps not. Love makes people stupid. “I am sorry for your loss.”

“As I am sorry for yours,” she says in return, which surprises him. “Sparta must have a prince. I am to be remarried.” She brings the little girl forward, and she can’t be more than a couple years old. “This is Urania, the child of myself and my husband. I have been ordered to kill her.”

Apollo flinches. He knows such things are done, but – she is Hyacinth’s daughter. “I will take her.”

She smiles. “I thought you might.” She kisses the girl on both cheeks, hands her to Apollo, then leaves as quickly as she’d came.

Urania watches them with big liquid eyes that she got from her mother. He stays with his daughters for a year after that, playing with Urania and watching Terpsichore dance and listening to Calliope’s beautiful poetry. Urania loves the stars. She stares up at them each night, and Apollo patiently explains the name of each one.

When she is fully grown, he begs a piece of ambrosia off Hestia and feeds it to her.

Urania is his daughter as surely as if his blood ran through her veins. He cannot bear to watch her age and die.

~

Marpessa chooses Ida over him, but it is too late. She already swells with his child, and he could use that to keep her. He could force her to stay at his side, she loves him, she said so, it would not be such a cruel thing.

But she is not wrong in her assessment. Apollo is immortal, and will not grow old with her, will not change with her, will not die with her. Ida will.

There’s fear on her face, and he thinks she deserves it, for proclaiming to love him and choosing another. But he is not interested in keeping her captive for a lifetime.

“Have the child, and give it to me,” he commands, “and I will leave you to your life.”

Ida is furious in his jealousy that Marpessa will bear a child for Apollo before she bears a child for him, so there is that comfort, at least.

Artemis delivers the child to ensure it goes smoothly. She’s beaming as she holds her niece. “What will you call her?”

“You choose,” he says, running the back of his finger over the babe’s soft cheek.

His sister considers the squalling child for a long moment before she says, “I think you should name her Thalia.”

“Thalia it is,” he says.

She’s mischievous, and reminds him of himself on his worst days. She grows, and pulls pranks on nymphs and deities. Her older sisters are constantly straining to keep her out of worse trouble.

He gets a frantic message from Calliope that Thalia has gone missing, and he eventually finds her at the edge of a scorched battlefield, the soldiers long gone but the bodies and stench remaining. He’s furious at her for going to a place so dangerous, but when he marches up to her he sees something that he hadn’t expected.

She’s hallway through a story about pranking a wood nymph that he knows is at least half lies and a quarter exaggeration. Curled up on the ground, clutching his stomach as he laughs so hard he can’t breathe, is Ares.

Apollo hasn’t seen the tormented god of war this carefree since he was a child.

Thalia finally notices him, and cuts herself off, paling. “Oh, uh. Hi Dad.”

Ares is downright giggling. “Hello Thalia,” Apollo crosses his arms and glares, “You shouldn’t go wandering away from your sisters.” She winces and nods, ducking her head to look up at him through her eyelashes, doing her best to look contrite and innocent.

It might have worked, if Apollo hadn’t taught her that look himself.

He sits down on the ground next to Ares, who doesn’t acknowledge his presence beyond shifting enough to use Apollo’s thigh as his pillow. “Well,” Apollo says, “keep going.”

Thalia lights up and launches back into the story, and when she finishes she continues into another which is mostly true and somehow even more ridiculous.

~

Because he’s an idiot with a death wish, Apollo ends up spending a month with Hecate in the underworld. He stumbles out one night when she falls asleep, because he feels if he doesn’t leave now there’s a possibility that he never will.

One of the most horrifying moments of his life is looking for the way out, and finding Hades instead. The god of death looks to him, walking around naked in his realm, to the direction he came from, and says, “That was you? Are you crazy?”

“It … it was a good time,” he says faintly.

“Obviously,” Hades shakes his head, and slices his hand down in the air in front of them, creating a doorway for Apollo out of his realm.

Apollo gives him a clumsy salute and steps through.

Roughly a year later, he’s playing his lyre when a little girl with black skin and grey hair and eyes appears in front of him. It’s terrifying enough that he accidentally snaps one of his strings.

“Lady Styx,” he says, voice higher pitched than normal. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The child snorts and reaches her hands into absolutely nothing and pulls out a baby. She holds it out to him. “Hecate says this is your problem now.”

Improbably, the babe already has a mouth full of too-sharp teeth. Her eyes shift between every color, unable to decide, and there is something a little too knowing about her face for one so young. Artemis says he too was born knowing too much.

A child of Apollo and Hecate can only be a mistake, something that will never fit quite well among others of her own kind.

He sighs and take the baby. “Very well.”

“I like the name Clio,” the child goddess says before leaving him.

Thalia tells him it’s too small and to give it back. Urania is fascinated, and takes over most of the child’s care, which is likely for the best since Calliope is neck deep into a new epic, and would be cross if she needed to pull her attention from it to rear a child.

As Clio ages, she stays just as unsettling and strange. Hephaestus shows up around the time she starts breaking into Athena’s libraries, even though stunts like that get people worse than killed. “I don’t know why she gave her to me,” Apollo says as they watch the teenager devouring a stolen tome on the history of the Persian Empire. “Hecate raised you, I don’t understand why she didn’t want to raise her actual daughter.”

“You’re a better parent than she is,” he says thoughtfully. Apollo gives him an unimpressed look, but he says, “I’m serious. Your girls are turning out to be quite lovely – all of them.”

“Of course they are,” he says, nose in the air, but grins when Hephaestus elbows him the side.

By the time she’s an adult, Clio is easily one of the most accomplished scholars to ever exist. She and Athena regularly get into academic debates that last weeks, and scare off anyone from daring to come closer.

She stays strange, and too smart, and Apollo loves her utterly.

~

Apollo is lying on the beach when a large wave overtakes him and drags him into the sea. He struggles for the surface, but can’t seem to shake the waves, and is dragged to the sea floor. He’s a god, so he won’t suffocate, but he’s terrified when the water drags him down to Poseidon’s palace and deposits him in front of his wife. “Apollo,” she says, “I can see what your daughters will become.”

He has no idea what she’s talking about. “Excuse me?”

Amphitrite grabs his jaw and pulls him closer. He doesn’t dare resist. She looks into his eyes, then smirks. “The god of prophecy doesn’t know that which he has wrought. How … ironic.”

“Is it?” he wonders. He really hopes she doesn’t kill him.

“Quite,” she smirks, and with a flick of her wrist she’s naked before him. “I wish for one of your daughters to be mine as well. Lay with me.”

“Uh,” he says eloquently, because Amphitrite has never given her husband any children, he hadn’t even known she could. If he sleeps with her, Poseidon might kill him, regardless of how many people the god of the sea sleeps with that aren’t his wife. But if he refuses her, she might kill him, and it’s not like having sex with Amphitrite is any sort of hardship. She’s as gorgeous as she is terrifying. “Okay.”

He’s deposited back on the shore the next day, feeling oddly used.

If Poseidon has any opinions on Apollo knocking up his wife, he doesn’t voice them.

Amphitrite doesn’t foist the baby upon him as soon as she’s born. Instead years pass, and one day a dark skinned, amber eyed sea god shows up at his door. There’s a teenager at his side, who has Apollo’s coloring and Amphitrite’s bone structure, and hair that shimmers golden-green in sunlight. “Glaucus,” Apollo greets warily, “and who might this be?”

“I call her Erato,” Glaucus says, “I’ve raised her since birth. It’s time for her to join her sisters.”

Erato is not as terrifying as her mother. Instead there’s a sweetness about her that she must have gotten from Glaucus. She’s shy at first, and spends many days looking out into the sea. But his daughters are persistent, and soon she’s laughing and joining them. There’s something dreamy about her, and she loves love, writes romantic ballads and beautiful poems, so much so that Aphrodite commends her talent.

Erato is also the most like him in the area of her love life, meaning she leaves behind a constant trail of heartbroken men and women.

Calliope complains about the constant wailing around their home, and Clio proves she has some of her mother’s talent with magic when she casts an unplotable spell around their home so former lovers stop following Erato home. Of course, she forgets to tell both Apollo and her sisters about this, and it’s very confusing for everyone until Clio remembers to tell them where the house is.

His daughters’ home is a place of constant music, poetry, and literature. He thinks he’s starting to suspect what Amphitrite was talking about.

~

Not all hunts are easy things.

Apollo feels the moment his sister is wounded, the arrow through her abdomen as painful for him as it is for her. He’s in his chariot, and he can’t leave it, if he leaves his chariot unattended the sun will consume it, and then consume the earth. “Calliope!” he snaps, and his eldest daughter appears by his side.

“Father?” she asks, huddling into him and away from the sun. “What’s going on?”

“Artemis is hurt, I have to help,” he says urgently, and places the reins into her hands. “You can do this.”

She pales, but steps forward, keeping a white knuckled grip on the chariot. “Go.”

He kisses his forehead, and goes to his sister. Her huntresses have set up an honor guard around her, defending and dying as cruel faced giants draws closer. “ARES!” he screams, and he doesn’t know what they’re fighting for, what this war is about, but it doesn’t matter. “WE NEED YOU!”

The god of war appears, and he’s clearly come from some other battle, covered in mud and other worse things. He throws himself into the battle, but it’s not until they gain more aid that the tides turn in their favor.

He first sees Erato on the field, water swirling around her as she slices through them all, the power of her mother making her golden eyes glow. Clio is at her back, the glittering magic Hecate passed on to her filling her hands.

Thalia has long curved knives flying from her fingers, and all who face her don’t figure out they’re dead until she’s already left them behind. Urania is letting loose arrows against the giants and though she’s not his by blood, not a goddess by birth, none would know it watching each of her arrows hit true and take down another enemy.

Terpsichore uses her honed abilities of dance differently here on the battlefield, twirling and ducking around enemies with her sword flashing as it slices through all who go against her. Celestial fire licks up the sword, and the daughter of Hestia and Apollo is laughing as she dances through the battlefield.

He wants to yell at them, to tell them to get off the battlefield, to get to safety. But it is thanks to them that the fight is being won, so he says nothing.

Ares looks around, grimaces, and catches Apollo’s eye before he disappears from the battle. They must be invoking his name. Apollo is only grateful he managed to stay as long as he did.

The giants are all dead by the time Apollo manages to make it to his sister’s side. She’s pale and covered in blood, her huntresses seated around her and trying to stop the bleeding. “What were you thinking?” Apollo demands, grabbing her hand and pushing her hair from her forehead. Terpsichore comes forward and lays her burning sword against the wound, sealing and cauterizing it at once. Both Apollo and Artemis scream

“They – took – a – child,” she pants, leaning in for his touch, for his comfort, and he has never been able to deny her anything. He pulls her up, biting back a scream at the pain that rips through them both, and props her up against his chest. “A – nymph’s child. Zeus’s child. They killed – it’s mother. That – that sort of injustice will – will not be – tolerated.” She lays her head back against his shoulder, tears leaking from the corner of her eyes, and Apollo almost wishes the battle were not over, because he wants to murder something.

“I’ll get it,” Erato says, and a moment later she returns with a toddler in her arms. She has the copper skin of Zeus, and pale blonde hair. “What do we do now? Zeus does not care for his children.”

“I think it’s time you became a big sister,” Thalia says, and Erato looks stricken. “Right Dad?”

He looks to his sister, who nods. “I can think of no better place for her. She cannot stay with me – a hunting party is not place for children.”

“Very well,” he sighs. “Does she have a name?”

The girl attempts to hide behind Erato’s hair, then says, “I am Euterpe.”

“Welcome, Euterpe,” he says.

It’s then that the sun finally sets, and Calliope stumbles into existence next to them. She’s covered in deep, bleeding burns, but it’s not as bad he feared it would be. She’s certainly faired better at her first time driving the chariot than he had. “What’s happening? Is everything all right?”

“We have a new sister,” Thalia says brightly, even as Clio rushes forward to tend to her burns.

Euterpe, thankfully, seems to inherit none of Zeus’s madness. She has a singing voice like a clear bell, and soon surpasses even Calliope’s talent with the lyre.

He knows, technically, that Euterpe is his half-sister. But it takes him no time at all to regard her as his daughter, to love her with same simple ferocity as he loves her sisters.

~

For a while, all is well, is quiet. His daughters are all fully grown, accomplished and beautiful.

Then Demeter corners him when he’s walking through quiet city and pins him against an alley wall. “If Amphitrite thinks she can one up me over this,” the goddess hisses, “she’s sorely mistaken.”

At least this time he knows what’s going on when Demeter starts pulling her dress off. “You can’t raise the child,” he says. He’s not adverse to laying with Demeter, although at this rate it looks like there will be less laying and more standing against a rough alley wall. But Demeter only knows how to love in a way that crushes all it touches. He won’t let her do that to his child.

“Fine,” she snaps, “Now get moving.”

He’s vaguely terrified the whole time, and it mostly reminds him of his month with Hecate. He’s left alone and naked in the alleyway an hour later.

Nine months later, a baby is delivered to his door by a nervous wood nymph. His daughter still has the squashed appearance of a freshly born baby. “She didn’t waste any time,” he comments, settling her into the crook of his arms. “Does she have a name?”

“Polyhymnia, my lord,” the wood nymph says, then bows before fleeing.

He brings her to the home where all his daughters live.

She grows, and she’s the spitting image of Demeter, of Persephone back when she answered to the name Kore. Her voice is lower than Euterpe’s, but just as pretty and when they sing together it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. She’s quiet, and thoughtful, her big brown eyes watching all around her with a measured stare.

Polyhymnia asks after her mother, something none of the others had done, and Apollo doesn’t know what to say. The truth is too callous, but he can’t bear to lie to her. Instead he begs an audience with Persephone, and says, “Your sister asks after the mother you share. I don’t know what to tell her.”

Persephone has no advice to offer, but she starts spending some of her time outside of the underworld with Polyhymnia. It is enough, and her questions stop, and Apollo tries not to feel guilty that he never really answered them.

~

Cassandra is unlike any woman he’s ever met, unlike any person he’s ever met, and the flames of love and passion burn inside him in a way they haven’t since his Hyacinth died.

She’s bull headed and irritating, and whenever he tries to complain about it Artemis rolls her eyes and his daughters laugh at him. He supposes he’s not doing a very good job hiding that he’s in love with her. Not even from her, because at one point she crossly asks if he’s ever planning to do anything with her, or if she should accept the offer from the butcher’s son.

They don’t leave her house for five days.

She is curious, hungry for knowledge, hungrier for it then she is of him. She wants to know impossible things, wants to be an impossible thing, and so Apollo laughs and takes her hand and says, “I will make you a bargain. I will give you the gift of prophecy, if you will grant me the gift of your hand.”

He’s never take a bride before. He hasn’t wanted to.

Cassandra is screaming and laughing, and she throws her arms around his neck and kisses him until she’s breathless. He takes it as a yes.

That’s when everything goes horribly, incredibly wrong.

It’s too much, all the horror she sees is too much, and Apollo tries to tell her to focus on the good, to see the happiness of the future. But she can’t, gets too caught up in too many wars, and she wastes away in front of his eyes even as her stomach swells.

He tries to take back the gift, tries to save her, but he can’t. It cannot be ungiven, and his headstrong, vivacious lover fades before his eyes. He only manages to alter it, to change it so no one believes the horrible things she cries to prevent the horror people feel when she looks at them and screams the way that they’ll die.

Artemis helps deliver their child, but halfway through her face goes pinched and worried, and Apollo knows that Cassandra won’t make it.

“I’m sorry,” he weeps, kissing her gaunt face, feeling the sharpness of her cheekbones under his lips, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know this would happen. I didn’t want this to happen.”

She looks at him with glassy eyes, barely reacts when Artemis places their child on her chest. There’s a growing pool of blood under her, but she can’t be saved, she will die, here, now.

Apollo wonders if she saw this coming.

She blinks, and meets his gaze with a sharpness and awareness he hasn’t seen for a long time. “She is your last daughter,” Cassandra says, “Melpomene is the last daughter you will have.”

He kisses her, his last chance to do so.

She’s dead before his lips leaves hers.

Apollo tries to flee, to run from the claws tearing apart his heart, but Artemis doesn’t let him. She yanks him back and pushes Melpomene into his arms. “You can’t leave,” she says harshly, “She needs you. Your daughter needs you. You’re not allowed to run.”

He crumples, leaning his head onto his sister’s shoulder as he sobs, and her calloused hand grasps the back of his neck. Melpomene is stuck between them, soft and warm and alive.

Time passes.

Melpomene is Thalia’s other half, her best friend, and they do everything together. Her dark hair is a mass of unruly curls just like her mother, her laughter is just like her mother’s.

She, like her sisters, is his pride and his joy.

~

Apollo has nine daughters

Calliope, who reigns over written epics.

Terpsichore, who reigns over dance.

Urania, who reigns over astronomy.

Thalia, who reigns over comedy.

Clio, who reigns over history.

Erato, who reigns over love poetry.

Euterpe, who reigns over song.

Polyhymnia, who reigns over hymns.

Melpomene, who reigns over tragedy.

They are known as the Muses.


gods and monster series, part xxi

read more of the gods and monsters series here

Nothing More [ IV ] [ Final ]

Genre [Rating] : Angst

Length: 3k

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Summary: Watching the man you love love someone else was the most painful feeling in the world.

Nothing More Masterlist

Originally posted by angel-in-slow-motion

It was terrifying how much could change in a year. To think that just a few short weeks could change everything about you was daunting, but true. When you had left life felt like torture, like everywhere you looked there was something waiting to mock you. You were broken, your heart all but ashes when you boarded the first flight away, but you knew it was what you needed to do. You needed time away from it all to figure out what you wanted, to figure out who you were without all of the things you’d grown so used to. It was hard, leaving it all behind, like you just gave away a piece of yourself with no plans of ever getting it back.

Loving Byun Baekhyun was hard, but letting that love go, was harder.

Keep reading

BTS RUN 22 HIGHLIGHTS:
  • Everyone recalls that Jin’s mom made rice cake for them aside from Jin who forgot.
  • BTS played many games they made Songpyeon (small rice cake). played Yut, archery with shoes, kicking jegi and finally a slap match. 
  • The teams were: Jungkook, Jhope, and Rapmon. Jimin & Jin and finally Suga & V (They were decided based on the rice cake making game)
  • Of course, this is not a spoiler: Jungkook’s team won most games and won at the end too. (Jungkook only loses in Hawaii or when he want to end in the same room as someone)
  • When asked if they made Songpyeon before, jimin proudly affirmed he made them recently. By lately he meant when he was 6. Then he started acting like an expert giving advice to everyone.
  • When BTS heard of the superstition of “making beautiful rice cake will get you pretty children” they said “then we need to do well as if our life depends on it.
  • Suga used to help his mother and grandma to prepare food. YES, HE IS A GOOD SON. And when V was sad and giving up while losing he told him to just sit and that he will do well for both of them. YES, HE IS DEPENDABLE.
  • Jungkook is so good they told him when you retire you can become a Singpyeon artisan. 
  • The team got so confused because every comeback Jungkook & Suga decide to open some sort of business together: bbq restaurant, Trip place … but Suga even if he said in another interview that lamb skewers were a business his parents said will fail he is still thinking about it.
  • Tae can’t eat spicy food (take note). JK loves flowers (Is that why all their MVs have a flower shop ammount of flowers. It’s all for the maknae). 
  • Jin made "Finding Nemo” rice cake and Suga the monster of Han riven. Jimin tried to save it by adding a heart on top. Jhope’s ones were decent but looked like a flag? V made one to express his love for ARMYs and OFC Jungkook made the most beautiful ones. 
  • jimin is good at spinning because he is a dance major?
  • Jin after spinning got dizzy and went straight to the cameraman to confess (just imagine him drunk lol)
  • The final scores were JK, JH & RM 46. JM & J 42 and the losing team SG & V who had to eat ‘punishment rice cake’ scored 34
  • This run too Jimin tried to charm someone *cough* Jk *cough*. Suga confirmed he was a genius (miraculously he didn’t cheat) Rapmon broke something. JK was good at everything. V gave up early. Jin made sure to be extra. Jhope dissed everyone left and right but no one is mad because he only tells the truth. 
8

Excerpt from tell me that you love me too by @ciuucalata

Keith looked up at him then while drinking the coffee and Lance saw something shift in his eyes but he couldn’t understand what. He smiled once again at Lance as he set the mug aside, head tilted just a little to the side. Enough to make Lance want to scream at how cute he looked.

Keith let out a huff of breath, almost like he was laughing at himself, and without warning he leaned in and kissed Lance on the check.

Now Lance was sure that he wasn’t breathing. He could hear the beating of his heart in his own ears and his vision became a little blurry with all the blood that suddenly went to his face, his knees felt a little weak and his arms were useless at his side. He was gone for sure but he still heard the two words Keith whispered in his ear. “Thank you.”

I’d like to thank the author for writing this beautiful fic because it’s freaking perfection this has been a PSA

2

911? Yes Hello I’d like to report a robbery. A Rookie Cop Rick just stole my heart and the only way to get it back is to ship him with Stan Pines. 

I’m gonna affectionately name this: Cops and Robbers AU.

Intertwined

Prompt: Fairy Tale AU for @marvelous-fvcks ‘s 3k followers writing challenge, congratulations love!! (also I’m so so sorry that this was late!)

Summary: Working in the royal castle leaves no time to yourself, but at the castle’s busiest time, you meet someone in the market who, despite his charming mannerisms, hides things that you wish you could find out. Then suddenly, your worlds collide in a way you would’ve never expected. 

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 6128 words (woah this is the longest fic I’ve posted oops, but it’s prob one of my cutest)

Warnings: slight angst, too much fluff

Notes: Thank you to @buckys-fossil and @whyisbuckyso for beta-ing this fic, you guys rule <3 

Originally posted by kingsebastian

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but do you just imagine how dan tried so hard to look good when he first met phil? how he straightened his curly hair to look twice as pretty as he is because no matter how you look at it, phil thinks he’s a beauty but dan, himself doesn’t realize that? how he chose to wear a check patterned shirt because he knew for sure that he’ll match phil’s? how his heart pounded so much because he’ll finally meet his long time crush whom he had no idea that after much years they’ll still be together?  because i do

cute couple things — p.p.

summary : extended dating peter would include… ft. a bunch of random thoughts i had about peter being a cute soft boyfriend !!!

  • reads your favorite books and memorizes lines from them that he can sneak into conversations to make you smile :)
  • it’s v hard for him to not look at you when he’s with you he just always wants to be looking at your face
    • “it’s, like, really hard to stop staring at you”
    • “huh?”
    • “you’re so pretty i can’t stop looking wow”
  • lights up !!!! when you walk into a room even if he’s just seen you two minutes ago and you were only in the bathroom for like a second
  • kisses you all of your face whenever he can just infinite amounts of kisses pressed across your cheeks and your nose and your eyelids 
  • he doesn’t really do nicknames like he’s not a darling sort of person
  • if he’s gonna call you anything it’ll probably be babe/baby/pretty girl or something of that sort
  •  (i started the pretty girl trend on the low don’t @ me)
  • sometimes you call him bro and he gets so offended 
    • “listen,,, peter,,, bro,,,,”
    • y/NNNN i’m not bro!!!!!!”
    • “k bro”
    • “you’re the worst” 
  • his face resembles that of a disgruntled pouty kitten whenever you call him bro
  • in school he taps his cheek lightly while facing away from you until you give him a kiss there and does that periodically throughout the day until MJ throws a pencil at him
    • “peter enough she’s kissed you like fifty times in the past twenty minutes haven’t you had enough”
    • “it’s never enough”
  • hands down gives the best hugs ever!!!! sweetest, softest, warmest hugs that you never wanna leave and they leave you a blushy mess for hours
  • nerd who tells you that you’re prettier than any star in the sky
  • will fight for your honor even if it means getting punched in the nose by one of flash’s bigger friends because flash won’t take on peter himself
    • “fuck peter why would you even call flash a giant dick??? like i know he is one but why would you ever you know his friend is like some sort of mutant tree”
    • “he said your butt was nice i can’t just let that sort of comment slide babe it’s unacceptable”
  • always knows he can rant to you about science bc you actually listen!!! and you care!! and you ask questions and you make him SO HAPPy!!
  • asks for permission to do everything
    • “hey would it be cool if i held your hand right now”
    • “yes of course”
    • “oh awesome!”
  • you send him selfies and his replies vary but they’re usually along the lines of
    • “oh my gosh you’re so cute i’m coming over”
    • “i love you you angel let me kiss you tomorrow”
    • “wow i have a real liFE ethereal as the love of my life i love the world”
  • sends a goodnight/goodmorning text every day with each heart emoji he can find 
  • his entire recently used section is just different colored hearts and rainbows and sparkles because he uses emojis obnoxiously
  • he’s convinced that the worst thing in the world is having to leave you after a long day of hanging out on a saturday or something
  • will 10/10 complain for hours to may about going home because he’s not with you anymore and he’s clingy
  • you’re his best friend and he’s not afraid to scream about it
    • “my best friend is dating me!!!!!!! i’m so lucky i love them so much” 
    • “peter we know”
    • “well now you know just a little extra all right?”
  • wishes you were able to fall asleep in his arms more often but you’re still young and he’s like oh well we have forever to do that
  • you insult each other all the time basically but??? you both love it banter is everything
      • “penis parKER flash is clever tbh”
      • “you’re such a little shit i’m actually going to fight you”
      • “seriously i dare you put your fists up now”
  • if you post a selfie and he doesn’t like it right away you’ll text him seven times in a row hinting that he should go like and comment 
  • texts at four am about random conspiracy theories or weird facts that only you two would find interesting 
  • shoulders = pillows on the train/bus most of the time
  • he is such a slut for having his hair played with ngl
  • it makes him so happy n calm he could lie like that, with your fingers just raking through his hair, for hours on end
  • he’s never felt more at home than when you’re sitting with him at his kitchen table eating mushy mac and cheese that he tried to make himself because may wasn’t home to help him out as you playfully make fun of him for ruining pasta
  • listens to ed sheeran songs with you because he’s an ed lover honestly and every song makes him think of you
  • hand massages when you’re cramping up after long tests or in class essays that leave you super stressed n anxious (fuck u ruby thx for the idea that murdered me n my soft spirit)
  • knows how to settle you nerves better than anyone else and vice versa
  • puts his hands on your cheeks before he kisses you 
  • you always joke about spidey in class and no one gets what you’re saying but he does and freaks out
    • “that’s a sticky situation”
    • “y/n” 
    • “don’t worry i found that on the web
    • y/n
    • “do you think spiders are men
    • “oh my gOD”
  • he doesn’t care at all if you take one of his sweaters or all of his sweaters he just gives zero fucks you could take them all and he’d love you for it 
    • “here take this one too”
    • “peter i have too many and it’s almost april”
    • “but you’d look so cute in this one” then he pouts and you’re a goner
  • peter writes you tiny notes in class that are his weird thoughts and ramblings and feelings but you save them all and put them in a memory box
    • there was one and it said here’s a concept : you have a bright future ahead of you, and i’m there. i like that concept.
      • you did, too
  • watches every cheesy romantic movie on netflix with you not just because you want to, but because he does too and he can’t help it that’s just how it is 
  • matching ugly christmas sweaters at christmastime because peter parker is an annoying headass and refuseS to go anywhere without one during the holiday season and if he’s wearing one he’s making you match
  • super spidey strength allows him to give you piggy back rides all throughout manhattan when you guys head to the city 
  • makes you kiss him in the rain even though there’s water up your nose and your hair is matted to your forehead 
  • one text makes your heart go !!!!!!!!! because that’s your boy!!!!! and you love him so much because he’s a lovely beautiful person that deserves the world !!!!!
  • making out is rarely super fast n intense like it’s still intense but you go slowly and you can make out for hours without a c are in the world
  • makes sure his hair looks nice before he goes out on a date with you
  • tells you that he loves you and that he’s happy you’re a part of his life as often as he can manage 
  • just wants to love you unconditionally forever
  • texts you at 11:11 every night and says something cheesy as fuck like “you’re my wish tonight babe” or “11:11 is always for you” and sometimes he’ll @ you on snap and you’re like wow we’re That couple 
  • but honestly???? you don’t care that much he’s so cute
  • knows your order at every restaurant/fast food chain/coffee shop imaginable and if he happens to pass by a mcdonalds or dunkin donuts while he’s swinging around queens he tries to pick something up for you 
  • you love his eyes you could probably get lost in them they’re gorgeous
    • “peter your eyes are so lovely i hate you”
    • “aw i love you more babe you say the sweetest things to me”
  • you think his smile is the prettiest thing ever
  • and when his face scrunches up when he’s super happY???? amazing you kiss him immediately everywhere and he gets so flustered and he giggles and tries to squirm away but not really
  • cause he loves it
  • and he loveS YOU
  • i love my boyfriend goodnight to all

Keep reading

Inside Harry Styles’ Intimate First Solo Tour

Music director Tom Hull reveals how the One Direction star is launching a new phase of his career with help from a versatile live band

Just a half hour before doors open for Harry Styles’ first show of his debut solo tour, San Francisco’s Masonic is completely empty. Band and crew members are buzzing backstage, including Styles himself, not yet wearing the snazzy Gucci suit he would be seen sporting onstage just hours later.

Outside, more than 3,000 fans wait to see the 23-year-old perform in one of the smallest venues they may ever catch him in. They’re decked out in a variety of homemade merchandise as well as florals and pinks, a tribute to the singer’s fashion and album aesthetic.

“It’s funny because as this tour’s approached, I’ve been so nervous,” Styles’ music director and producer Tom Hull, known professionally as Kid Harpoon, tells Rolling Stonebackstage while clutching a chalice of wine and wearing a pin that reads “Muna Has Possibly Talked to Harry Styles,” given out for free by opening band Muna at their merch table.

Until this tour, Hull’s work with other artists had been primarily in the studio, producing and co-writing for artists like Haim, Florence and the Machine and Shakira. He had been introduced to Styles through a mutual friend and ended up working on the songs “Sweet Creature” and “Carolina.” Thanks to their musical chemistry, Styles ended up asking Hull to help him put together a live show to perfectly embody the rootsy, rock-tinged sound of his self-titled album.

“I’ve gone into it not knowing what I’m doing [and] learning on the job,” he admits. “We’re all sort of approaching it with a fresh perspective because we haven’t done it before, but it [has us] keeping with what the record’s about.”

To help translate Styles’ solo sound, the first goal was to get a traditional band together. Guitarist Mitch Rowland had been plucked from a pizza shop where he formerly worked to become a session musician for the album and has joined Styles’ touring band as well.

“Mitch has never really toured like this before,” Hull says. “He’s learning on the road as he goes.”

Joining Rowland are keyboardist Clare Uchima, bassist Alex Predergast and drummer Sarah Jones, all of whom had made their debut with Styles during the televised and small club performances around the release of his album. The band began to feel settled long before the tour launched, but Hull sees their relationship becoming further cemented with this trek.

“Bands become true bands on tour,” he explains. “Fans bought tickets [for this tour] before the album had come out, and the band wants to play to them. The idea is to cut our chops on this tour and get really good. Then next year, he’s got an arena tour.”

Still, on the first two nights, the band already felt like a cohesive unit. The first show perfectly bridged Styles’ past and present, demonstrating that he’s a star capable of holding his own outside of his boy band. Amidst the folk-y ballads and rousing rockers, he covered One Direction classics like “What Makes You Beautiful” and “Stockholm Syndrome” as well as one of his lesser-known writing credits: an Ariana Grande piano ballad titled “Just a Little Bit of Your Heart,” off the vocal diva’s 2014 album My Everything. “Honestly, I didn’t know he had written it,” Hull notes.

Styles has released just 10 songs under his own name, but the vast amount of material he had from his pre-solo career helped to fill out the set. “When the Strokes first came out, their album was 35 minutes long and they had to do Talking Heads songs to fill out the set,” he adds. “It’s quite good to be able to do [Harry’s] record and have other songs in the set because he’s written so much music with [and outside of] One Direction. We’re presenting it in a way that sort of reflects the record and where he’s at now, which feels unique to Harry.”

In the months leading up to the tour launch in San Francisco, Hull, Styles and good friends of the latter sat around and began to formulate a vision. “It was like ‘Why don’t we do this? That would be fun,’” Hull describes of the process. “The thing that’s incredible about Harry that I don’t think people realize as much yet is that he drives it all. It’s very much his taste. He’s very musical; he plays guitar, plays piano and writes songs. He loves music.”

For Hull, working with Styles has disproven a common misconception of the pop megastar, one who is governed by his producers and label. Instead, the director paints a picture of a huge music nerd, one who is particularly passionate about classic rock and country, getting to explore his taste on his own terms.

“That was the hard thing, I think, in [One Direction] before,” he adds. “You’ve got a bunch of lads who all have different tastes in music and have their own personalities. Obviously it’s clear they’ve all done something different [as solo artists].”

Styles has been eager to share his tastes with Hull and the rest of the group. “He’s turning me on to music I’ve never even heard of from like 1978, and he’s texting people in the band 'Have you heard this? Have you heard that?” Hull says says, noting that on days off they go to guitar shops, looking at gear and “really geeky stuff.”

“For someone where he’s at, he just absolutely adores it, and it’s inspiring for everyone underneath.”

The next night in Los Angeles, the crowd is even more energetic as they filter into the Greek through the trees and hills of Griffith Park. A few glitches cropped up at the San Francisco gig — run-of-the-mill sound problems and a less expected fire alarm triggered by the theatrical smoke used during Muna’s set. For the Los Angeles show, the band feels even stronger and more focused.

“There was a bit of uncertainty, but I think everyone’s really happy and buzzing,” Hull updates from the Greek’s VIP section. That night, they were up against the added pressure that comes with a celebrity- and legend-filled audience, featuring everyone from Emma Roberts to Mick Fleetwood and Styles’ former groupmate Niall Horan. “You want to keep improving and getting it better. It feels like the first gig still.”

Even though he would perform a cover of Fleetwood Mac’s “The Chain” in front of Fleetwood himself, Styles was even looser at the Greek, dropping in cheekier ad libs and at one point halting “Kiwi,” the closer of the main set before his encore, to tease the troves of primarily female-identifying fans by highlighting the “I’m having your baby” line from the chorus. According to Hull, Styles was already prepared to start changing up the set list by night two, something the entire team collectively decided against as they were just starting out. (In Nashville the following weekend, however, they replaced the cover of “Stockholm Syndrome” with a rendition of Little Big Town’s “Girl Crush,” the first of many possibly new covers to be introduced on the road.)

The cover of One Direction’s most memorable hit “What Makes You Beautiful” remains the most surprising element of the show, especially since young solo artists typically tend to distance themselves from their pop pasts on the road to a more “mature” sound.

“At first, he was definitely cautiously up for it,” Hull says of the decision-making process. “I feel like those [One Direction] songs are brilliantly written songs, and obviously it was a moment where we had a conversation. Beyoncé does Destiny’s Child songs, so we were like 'Let’s do some of the songs that people will all know and everyone will love.’”

Styles’ band made sure to adapt the tune to fit the flow of the show. Uchima suggested a “Ray Charles–y vibe” for the keys, while drummer Jones added a “Motown-y beat” during rehearsals, and the group continued tinkering until they found the perfect balance of old and new.

“We all have so much respect for what put him here,” Hull adds, emphasizing Styles’ own desire to not fully let go of his past. “It’s an important part of it. You can’t underestimate his fans.”

Taken

Writer - @damndescendants

Requested - nope. Send in request! All types relating to Descendants are allowed!

Disclaimer - I do not own any of Descendants’ characters and/or ideas all credit goes to the creator and producers of Disney Descendants

Pairing - Harry Hook x Reader

Summary – Harry Hook’s girlfriend, (Y/N) is kidnapped by someone on the Isle and Harry isn’t too pleased with it

Warning(s) - kidnapping, violence, swearing, fluff at the end

Originally posted by heather-l-wood

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“Why don’t you tell me I’m pretty?” Elain said.

Azriel looked up from his book. She was standing in the doorway to the library—frustrated, unsure.

“You never tell me I’m pretty. You never compliment my dresses or the style of my hair.” She crossed to him, hands fisted in the skirts of her cobalt dress. “Why not? Why don’t you give me compliments like the other males?”

Azriel blinked and put down his book. “Because… because compliments are just words, and you don’t need words.” He stood and walked until they were an arm’s length apart. His voice was soft, low. “When you feared for your life, I gave you a knife so you could defend yourself. When you were lost, I asked you to teach me to garden so you would have purpose, and a place. When you were too sad to move or speak, I sat with you so you’d know you were not alone. And when you are happy I am content to sit in silence, to watch and to be, and to not waste those moments with silly observations about your appearance.”

He took a step toward her. And than another.

Her breath grew heavy the closer he got. When at last they shared breath, she whispered, “And what if I w-wanted silly observations?”

He stroked a knuckle down her cheek, to trace her jaw. She stilled, the world so quiet she measured the moments by the pounding of her heart.

“Then I would tell you that no ode to your beauty could ever do justice, and it would not have driven Truth-teller into the Hybern king’s neck.”

He stroked that knuckle down the line of her throat, to the neckline of the dress, trailing it over the tops of her breasts.

“I would tell you that pretty words about how the color of your cobalt dress brings out the warmth in your eyes would not have helped ground you in a new life nor give you purpose.”

He twirled a golden curl around his finger, then slowly tucked it behind her ear.

“I would tell you that nothing could be gained from knowing how a loose curl, hanging near your neck, drives me mad beyond belief with wanting—to touch, to taste—because it would not have gotten you out of bed all those months ago, nor made you feel any less alone.”

He leaned in and every ounce of focus went to what he might do next, where he might touch her next. The entire world balanced on a razor’s edge… his hand found the side of her face and he leaned in. She stopped breathing.

“And I would tell you that I have been in love with you, Elain Archeron, for a very, very long time.”

Azriel gently pressed his lips to hers. It was quiet and strong and light—a silken caress. And it was a beginning of something she had no words to describe.

I think one of my favorite aspects of the Six of Crows duology is the fact that Kaz and Inej do not end up together.

And that’s not because I don’t ship them.

It’s because Inej, unlike so many YA heroines, isn’t what “heals” Kaz. Her love doesn’t magically fix him or make him a better person. He wants to change for her– he wants to get over his phobia of human touch. He wants her to love him. But it isn’t some overnight happening. He doesn’t suddenly overcome his affliction because of his love for her.

In the end, Kaz is still morally ambiguous, sometimes outright corrupt, and still has severe PTSD trauma.

And while Inej might love Kaz despite those things, she is not willing to lower her worth to accept them in a relationship. “I will have you without your armor, Kaz Brekker. Or I will not have you at all.”

That was one of the most powerful YA heroine lines to her love interest that I’ve ever read. So many fictional girls (and real girls, for that matter) stay in the hopes of fixing a man, of healing his brokenness. Inej wants to heal him, but she understands that she cannot. Only Kaz can heal himself. Only he can want it enough to change. And it won’t be some overnight affair. Wanting to change and actually changing are two entirely different things. Kaz will have to go through agonizing changes if he ever wants to grow.

So far, he has accepted that he is the “demon of the barrel”. He still wants to burn the world down. He is still angry and hurting. He talks about wondering why over the years, with every violent turn his life takes, why his phobia has only gotten worse. It’s because he’s let himself rot in it. He’s stripped any and all goodness in the world down to the barest threads.

That’s why he is not ready for Inej. Inej, who might have her own issues and flaws, but who still has hope for a better world. Who is still willing to fight for it.

It’s not Kaz’s inability to touch her that she wants him to work on. It’s his mindset. His finality in the evil in his heart and his acceptance of it. He will never get over his phobia until he can understand goodness, the goodness of touch, the goodness of man.

And Inej will not accept him while he still holds on to that armor of hatred. And I think that is beautiful. It is healthy. It shows a level of self-respect that is often sadly absent from our fiction today.