#and so many toxic herbs. just so many so much

[mercurianchild]

hey beautiful,

could you make a post about Venus in 8th house? You’ve mentioned you have this placement and I do too! Thank you very much for your time. 🩷

🖤Venus in the 8th house🖤

TW: mentions of death and s*x

The most common thing I have seen is that this placement (along with scorpio Venus and Venus-Pluto aspects) is s*xualised and glamorised a lot. While it is true, that this placement gives an alluring and interesting aura, it’s not just that. Venus 8th house people have to offer so much more!

A lot of my friends and family members share this placement and we all share one thing: the ability to love so deeply that it hurts. This ability can also turn toxic or even turn into obsession if this placement is underdeveloped.

A lot of 8th housers also stay with people for longer than they should. Most of the times they have outgrown some situations or people, but they refuse to let go because of the feelings they feel. I’ve also been trough that many times. In hope that the spark will come back or that the people involved would change.

A common thing I’ve seen is that it is really hard to let go of people they love. I’ve seen this in friends AND family members that they just can’t let go of certain people where love was involved. For me, it’s still that one guy who I haven’t talked to for 5 months now. In the end, he hurt me. But he showed me what it’s like to be loved. I am still not over him and I know it will take some work to let go of him. With him, I experienced what I envisioned as love between two beings.

Venus in 8th house people are (like other 8th house placements) able to read people like a book. The gut feeling about others is never wrong. Intuition is high.

Could be more into trying extreme and intense things in bed like bdsm or playing with knives. 🔪💀⛓️

Very much into occultism and practising it. All my 8th house friends, for example, are in coven or practices witchcraft. Very into herbs and Hollis tub healing methods.

Which leads to the point that people with this placement are natural healers (if developed).

Natural understanding for psychology. Like really!!! Not just theoretical, but also being able to apply it in real life!

Constantly going through death and rebirth moments in life. A lot of ego deaths will happen.

On the other hand, this placement can bring a lot of hate and resentment from women (no matter if the individual is male or female). A lot of jealousy from other woman which makes it hard to find out who will stab you in the back when you’re not around. This can also lead to trust issues in friendships!

Feeling emotions so intense that it may be difficult to word them. Something that helped me was to find a creative way to let them out. Writing, painting or creating music are wonderful activities.

Red and darker colours look wonderful on these individuals (yes, this can vary depending on the rest of the chart and genetics)

Underdeveloped Venus in 8th house can make someone prone to be a pick me or a real meanie.

Either these individuals had some point of being bullied in teen years or them bullying others.

Constant feelings of so much depth. Whenever I’m around other 8th housers I feel so understood. It’s like a warm hug. We just know what you’re feeling.

I said it before, but the ability to heal… just by being there. Just the presence of these individuals is so intoxicating and loving!

Tend to have very dark humour and make jokes about inappropriate things.

Knack for taboo topics. No fear in discussing them.

Love to keep things private or even a secret. Like being involved in affairs just for the sake of it being a secret thing. I feel like some may enjoy something like that just for the thrill of it.

A lot of secret admirers!!

Can have issues with s*xuality and some may not be s*xually active until their late teen years or early adulthood. From what I’ve seen in friends, read online or even experiences myself, there can be also some unconscious trauma relating to one’s s*xuality.

Last but not least: these individuals are hard to forget, as they carry so much depth, magic and power… once they recognise their potential, it’s over for all them bitches trying to put them down!!

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

Hello! I've never sent an ask to anyone before, so I don't know if I'm doing this correctly! But I seriously love your aus, so I just had to try <3

For your monster!au, do you think that there is a difference in the kinds of food they eat between monsters and humans? The kinds of food, seasoning, preparation, how it's cooked, even the degree to which something is cooked. Especially with how you mention in another post about how some species can't eat certain foods.

Like, does Yuu (female pronouns please! Or gender neutral if you prefer) come to their world and have to figure out how to cook with ingredients she's never seen before, or does Yuu just start to cook things in ways the monster bois have never seen or thought of before? Would the boys enjoy it? Would it be safe for them?

Or do you think there wouldn't be much of a difference?

Also, out of curiosity, which species would you say has the most diverse diet?

I seriously love your page! Keep up the amazing work! Stay safe and stay healthy!💙💚😃

Thank you for sending in an ask! You did it correctly, don’t worry c: And thank you so much! I’m glad you love the AUs so much to send something in! ;;v;;

To a degree, the food being cooked in the Monster!AU would be different depending on the species. I know I’ve pretty much beaten the grape incident into grape juice already, but while some may be okay with eating it, other students can’t due to it being toxic (I looked it up, and cranberry wine is a thing. That means Crewel can still enjoy a glass of wine, and it’s possible that the monsters/ghost chefs would use it in cooking instead of grape-based wines!). The same could be said for certain herbs and spices that we take for granted being something that can make them sick or can be just as toxic as grapes, like onions or garlic. Chocolate can still be a thing for some species, but carob is the main alternative that’s available—which means Yuu will still have access to it at least!

There’s also an extra sensitivity to citrus based scents. Using citrus juice to cook something like ceviche for example would be difficult, as not many can even get past the smell even if the taste itself is amazing. Funny enough, there’s actually this one manga I came across called “His Majesty the Demon King’s Housekeeper” that actually touches up on this fact as citric acid is one of the few ways to clean certain stains off surfaces, but most of the cleaning staff in the mansion couldn’t stand the smell of the orange peels until it was turned into a powder form by the demon king. It’s such a cute manga, and has lots of helpful tips too, so it’s a win-win!

If you can’t tell by now, Slice-of-Life manga and stories are my jam. I love when they touch up on things that we don’t normally think about and put a spin on things! >v<

Anyway, as you can imagine, if (and that’s a major IF) we were strictly to focus on the ingredients we know in our world, recipes would have to be tailored to be suitable to each species to avoid causing issues while ensuring that each student has the right nutrients needed to sustain their bodies. This would have resulted in having to find alternatives that are safe for students to enjoy while still being able to ensure safety to avoid severe allergic or otherwise dangerous reactions to having something they shouldn’t.

That would be one helluva menu to try to cater to when you can’t use certain seasonings to flavor things. Good thing Crowley has those ghost chefs to work with the menu, because I certainly couldn’t fathom the mental gymnastics of creating that kind of menu! @.@

But to put it in perspective, it’s like trying to give chocolate to a cat or dog when we have alternatives such as carob as I mentioned earlier. Or how people who are lactose intolerant have almond or oat milk or even goat milk as an alternative, or how there are gluten-free alternatives for those who can’t have it due to celiac disease. Just to name a few examples anyway, since I know there are people out there who have restrictive diets due to health reasons.

Thankfully, these guys aren’t entirely missing out on flavor since in Twisted Wonderland—much like how they have unique flowers and plants such as mandrakes right around the corner—I’m sure there’s no limit to the types of ingredients that can be used to cook with! In fact, I’m reminded of this manga that I’ve stumbled across that I gotta start from the beginning known as “Delicious in Dungeon”. Basically, it’s where the characters are traveling in a dungeon and they not only find monsters and creatures to hunt and eat (not like there’s a grocery store or market inside a dungeon), but also demonstrate how to prepare and cook using the ingredients found in the dungeon as well as the creatures themselves. It just looks so delicious whenever they show the results and what you can do with the extra stuff you can’t eat!

But I digress. ^v^;

This means that Yuu will have lots of new ingredients to try and explore in various dishes, and this also means new opportunities to learn new recipes! Imagine what you’d be able to learn during the Master Chef event too!

So…what happens when you have a female human who has excellent taste buds and a love of cooking and also loves to cook for others? You’ve got a whirlwind of ingredients flying around and waves of delicious smells wafting through the air leading many drooling students investigating the source (and trying to sneak a bite).

Iron-stomach gourmet Grim is the one who gets to enjoy Yuu’s experimental cooking at first. After all, why shouldn’t he be able to enjoy the spoils of his hench-human cooking for him? He’ll try guiding her with his knowledge of flavors and what tastes good, and she learns which seasonings to use for each dish whenever she talks to Trey or Jamil or even Azul. His bragging of being the first to try true human cuisine wound up drawing in the first years, many curious to see her in action while others hoped to try and sneak in a free meal.

Imagine if she cooked two-three meals a day: mini waffles and giant pancakes that are several inches thick? She’s adding various fruits and berries and pairing it with the perfect syrup! Homemade chicken or beef soup? Simmering with noodles boiled to perfection! Roasted pork and beef stew? Veggie stir-fry? Baked fish? Burgers? Pizza??? Nothing is off the table when Yuu is in the kitchen! And don’t get started on the different desserts she could whip up with Trey!

Soon enough, word would have spread around the school about the human’s delicious cooking and it won’t be long before Yuu has visitors around every meal time.

/////

Yuu:*whisking eggs as the rice cooks* “Breakfast’s almost ready, Grim!”

Grim: “Hooray! Omurice cooked human-style~!”

Knock-knock-knock!

Yuu: “Come in!” *pouring the egg into two skillets before looking up* “Oh, hey guys!”

Ace: “Hey, Yuu! Whatcha making?”

Yuu: “I’m making omurice. I asked the chefs in the cafeteria how to make it and…wait…” *narrows eyes* “Did you guys come here just to get breakfast?”

Deuce: *sheepish* “Sorry, Yuu…we just really like the way you cook.”

Yuu: *sighs and smiles* “It’s okay. Next time, just let me know ahead of time so I can prepare more, okay?”

Grim: “Don’t even think of taking my portion!”

Ace: “Aww, is that any way to treat guests, Yuu?”

Yuu: “Grim, be nice.”

Grim: “What?! That’s not fair!”

Deuce: “I can wait my turn. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Yuu: “Could you chop up some more veggies and measure out the rice? Ace and Grim can have the first two, then we’ll have the next batch.”

Grim: “Stop encouraging them!”

Ace: “Oi! As if you don’t eat the food at the Unbirthday Parties!”

Grim: “Oh yeah?! Well I-mfh!?”

Ace: “Mfhg!?”

Yuu: *dusts hands after shoving two meat buns into their mouths* “There will be no fighting in my kitchen, you hear me?”

Ace and Grim: “Yeth m’m…”

/The Next Day/

Yuu: *standing in the doorway with a bowl of pancake batter* “…are you here to socialize or do you want to try some of my cooking?”

Silver: “Fa-I mean, Lilia…decided to cook breakfast today. He wanted to try and cook some old human recipes, but…”

Sebek: *looking mildly nauseous* “I did what I could to protect Lord Malleus, but…human food should not look like that.”

Yuu: “Ah, okay. Come on in. I’ll get another batch ready, so help yourself to the ones on the table! There’s fresh fruit and whipped cream there too.”

/////

I have a feeling that Yuu would be getting a lot of visitors from Diasomnia on days that Lilia does the cooking, and I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to feed them too! 😌

As for the “food bribes”…well, it’s kinda hard to argue with the results. Especially when they can be very valid trades. Yuu wants a specific utensil to make that special treat or meal? You’ll get first dibs on the finished dish!

Oh no, Yuu needs help with this potionology assignment and made too many cupcakes to eat by herself! If only someone could come and help with both…

As you said, there are many possibilities of how Chef!Yuu could take advantage of their knowledge and skill around the kitchen! And before I forget, if I had to choose which species would have the most diverse diet…I would have to say it’s a tossup between the basilisks and the faun and satyr species. Basilisk can essentially eat nearly anything without much issue as their stomach acid is strong enough to even digest rocks and crystals, whereas faun and satyr can eat most any plant and fruit or vegetable imaginable and can tolerate some forms of meat without issue. Though if you really want to enhance the dietary variety possibilities, Epel and Trey would have this in the bag as these two are hybrids of two different species, making them truly omnivorous like humans!

[tocomplainfriend]

YOU DIDN'T WRITE ANYTHING SIMILAR TO BOJACK BRO! BH has so much structure and essence, it is insane. Specially after S1, the intelligence in those BH scripts is nowhere to be found in HB. In helluva, There are these tiny good things that get murdered every other episode. Things that sound better as concept-than how you developed it. There are so many great jokes that aren't based on saying "dick dick whore fuck", so many of their animal characters work for actually smart animal jokes. Or the tongue twisters! YOU BARELY LET CHARACTER BE BAD PEOPLE. Every social issue they suddenly have a sad pass and their dad was mean and that JUSTIFIES EVERYTHING? Bojack H literally goes against that so hard is impossible you think this way if you understood Todd's speech, or Bojack's interview or the last two fucking episodes of the series. All the main cast also feels almost empty of bad qualities that aren't uwu justified by the plot and writing. Certain things stop just being explanation of characters and how they came to be. It sounds more like you gave your characters a bunch of shitty we are in hell traits + things that you didn't even recognize as problematic. AND TRIED TO SAVE THEM IN THE WRITING as just flaws- or making something else happen to the character to be like "Oh they have it so difficult! They just didn't get taught how to love right" When they are being abusive toxic fucks instead.

I legit believe all of Herb story had something so strong to say about queer issues, then Helluva. Like he literally comes out to BJ, kisses him later on and immediately dismiss it. -And then he gets arrested by the police for having gay sex -as public indecency. Many conservatives complain about it cause Herb ran the Horsing around show, saying "it is a show for children people like him shouldn't flaunt around their alternative lifestyle and ruining America"

(Read the sings LMAO) All of this in the 80s to 90s

Also, this guy's comments

"So, here I am, being your mother, which I know is giving you all sorts of mixed-up ideas about gender, while your brain is still loose and stupid. Just remember, if you become a queer later in life, this isn't my fault! Don't you sing no songs in your nightclub act called, "My Daddy was My Mommy," while gazing longingly at a tangled string of pearls... Pearls are for ladies, Bojack. Pearls are for ladies."

AND THIS GUYYYYY HELLO? They have multiple episodes, including Todd's sexuality- but not all the episodes nor his personality revolve around that! He even made a dating app for Ace people with his girlfriend!

I already have 3 "Bojack Horseman > Helluva Boss" post in this account!

[ambermotta]

How to not Kill your Crystals — Crystal Safety

How often have you looked up online and saw "to cleanse your crystals, use moonwater!", or "bury your crystals!"?

And how often did you hear of someone whose crystal ended up bleached, or entirely dissolved? (I'm looking at you, selenite)

Long post ahead but it's worth it, I promise

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Introduction

There are many methods of cleansing and charging crystals, but what beginner witches and pagans may not realize is that not every method is appropriate for every crystal.

While some methods are generally more harmless than others, if you don't know some of your crystal's basic properties, you might end up damaging them or even yourself!

So in this post I'll go through some general considerations and then list some cleansing & charging methods: the failproof, the ones you have to consider crystal safety, and the possibly harmful ones. Lastly, I'll list what you should NEVER do with your crystals.

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So what's wrong with Moonwater?

There is nothing wrong with moon or sun energy itself. What can be dangerous is Water and Sunlight. It's all about physics and chemistry.

Water

Some crystals dissolve or release toxic chemicals in water. Some examples are Selenite & and Desert Rose (which is a type of Selenite), and Hematite. That means you should never leave them near water, humidity, wash them, or put them inside any elixirs.

Sidenote on elixirs: if you are going to ingest any type of water that has been in contact with crystals, you MUST do a through research to make sure they don't release ANY chemicals in the water.

Plus you can infuse water with crystal energy without them touching the water.

by celestialearthminerals

The Sun

As for Sunlight, it can bleach your crystals and alter the coloration over time. The heat can also greatly damage them! An example of crystals that shouldn't be exposed to the sun is quartz. Pretty much all kinds, including amethyst and citrine.

Fun fact: burned amethyst clusters are very often sold as citrine. They have a burned yellow/brown/orange aspect to them, like in this image.

Real citrine has lighter yellow and orange tones.

burned amethyst – fake citrine

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Fail proof Cleansing & Charging

Nothing can go wrong with them when it comes to crystal safety. The worst that can happen is performing them poorly, which could affect cleansing and charging effectiveness.

Smoke

There's no way to go wrong here. You can light an incense or burn herbs of your choosing, pick up a crystal, and cleanse them with the smoke. You can use energetic herbs such as rosemary to charge them.

Tip: You can choose the herbs and incense based on your stones properties! (For example, use a fiery herb to charge a fiery crystal)

Sound

There are many ways to go about this. Singing bowls, affirmations, vocal singing, bells, prayer, chanting, galdr (rune chanting), calming and uplifting music...

Choose your sound, cleanse your space, set your intention, and let Sound do its job. If you are going to charge the crystals yourself using a method such as chanting to your stones, cleansing yourself first and having a ritualistic setup would be nice. It can help you focus and make sure you will only send positive energies to your crystals.

Reiki and Energy work

Absolutely no way to go wrong. Reiki is a wonderful cleasing/charging method.

You would have to be initiated in order to do Reiki, but if you can't afford that, any kind of energy work and energy manipulation will do. Just make sure to prepare yourself beforehand and focus on what you are doing.

You can use tools to help in energy manipulation, such as an athame or wand.

Water Glass Cleansing

You are NOT going to put your crystals INSIDE the water glass. That's why this is a safe cleansing method.

Fill a glass of water and set your intentions for the water to absorb all negativity from your crystals, then leave your stones & crystals near your glass of water for a few hours.

It is preferable to use a transparent glass. It doesn't have to be, but it is better. I also wouldn't recommend plastic of any kind.

Once you are done, dispose of the water, thanking it for its help, and wash the glass before using it again.

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Consider Crystal Safety with These

They are commonly believed to be harmless (and that's mostly true), but give them some thought anyway. I will explain why.

Immersing in Salt

Salt has strong cleansing properties. You can fill a small bowl with enough salt to bury your crystals and leave them there for a few hours to a day. You could also use salt water the same way.

Why be careful?

Salt can trigger chemical reactions in some crystals. I'm mainly talking about salt water, but just to be safe, it might be best to have caution with solid salt as well.

Burying in Earth

Burying crystals (especially if close to a plant or tree) is a popular cleansing/charging method. After all, they came from the earth! Who else could take better care of them?

You can leave your crystals buried outside for a few hours to a day and let the planet do its job.

Why be careful?

If you are going to leave crystals outside beneath the earth, you shouldn't have to worry about the Sun. It is WATER that you should worry about.

If it rains, the water will reach your crystals. If want to bury non water-safe crystals, make sure rain won't get to them.

Tip #1: Don't forget where you buried them

Tip #2: An alternative to burying outside is to bury crystals on your household plant's pot. You can even match the plant's own properties to the energy you want to work on your crystal.

Moonlight Bath

Not moon water, just moonlight. Just let your crystals bask in moonlight... It is almost failproof.

Why be careful?

I say it's almost failproof because it can only fail if you forget your crystals outside until the sun is out, or until it rains.

If you think you are prone to forgetting to collect your crystals before the sun shines, do this early in the night and set an alarm to collect your crystals in a few hours.

Tip: you can still cleanse and charge with Moon energy even if the weather is not favorable. Just be careful with rain.

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Possibly Harmful Methods

For these, you NEED to know your crystals before you do them. Especially the ones involving water and heat, you should take into consideration your own health due to possible chemical releases!

Sun charging

While it can be great to have sun energy on some of your crystals, this is one of the unsafest methods for the crystals. A lot of them will bleach, change color and even crack after prolonged sunlight exposure. If you're leaving crystals in the Sun, I suggest you leave them out for no more than an hour.

Also, watch out for weather changes if you have a crystal that is not waterproof.

Sidenote: if you have crystal necklaces, remember you might also accidentally expose them to sunlight and rain when you wear them outdoors.

Sun water

Can't have your crystals in the Sun, but it's a fire crystal so you would like it to be charged with sun energy?

If they are water safe, make some sun water, fill a bowl with it, and let your crystals sit in it for a few hours.

Moon water

As long as your crystal is waterproof, it should be fine. Just fill a bowl with moon water and let your crystals be for a few hours.

If you don't know if your crystals are water safe, it's best not to risk it.

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Never Ever...

... Expose your crystals to intense heat

No candles, no hot water, no intense sunlight. Not only you will very likely damage your crystal, intense heat and burning of crystals can release toxic fumes.

... Use chemicals to clean crystals

No soaps, alcohol, detergents, salts, etc. They might trigger chemical reactions when in contact with some crystals. So unless you know exactly what you're doing, keep these away from them.

... Touch dissolved crystal water

If you put your crystal in water and a chemical reaction happened, it's best to not touch the water. It could cause skin irritation and intoxication.

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Conclusion

Sometimes we leave crystals outside so that they can be bestowed Nature's blessings, and we forget about them. It happens, as do all accidents.

But you can avoid a lot of damage (yours and theirs) by simply studying about them before submitting them to anything that could be potentially harmful.

Remember your crystals need a lot of love and care, and that goes for their physical care, too. They are unique because of their physical and chemical properties as well, not just spiritual ones.

Thank you for reading and love your crystals!

[hyperfixat]

HAIII!!! ive been browsing your blog a lot recently and i love your writing sm!!! i wanted to ask if you'd be interested in writing the brothers (+ datables, luke, and others, if youd like!) living with an mc who is obsessed with plants? like to the point where the HoL has at least a few plants in every room? idk i just think it'd be interesting to see how human world plants behave in the devildom, and if special equipment (think grow lights, nutrient rich soil, etc) would need to be involved! im also picturing mc ordering plants off of (human world) ebay and the sender being confused like "wtf who is this what is the House of Lamentation"

UAAHHH first of all i love the idea of more noticable differences in the human realm vs the devildom and the game (understandably) keeps it more toned down and appealing to the average connoisseur.

like i own a few plants and have a small garden, and they stay alive and well in my house. bcs i live on earth. But. the devildom being soooo different in terms of soil and atmosphere… delectable.

i may make more stuff involving this idea but for now..

moving on (~500 words):

It’s been a rough few weeks in the Devildom, and not for the reasons many may suspect. It’s not the literal demons, rather the environment, more specifically the death that seems to cling to the air. The atmosphere, both in and outside of the House of Lamentation is suffocating.

It’s not like a couple of house plants would fix this issue, but perhaps the placebo of having some fresh living plants from the human realm would help ease the atmosphere.

Eventually you build up the courage to knock on Mammon's door to ask about and if he could get you an indoor plant. You aren’t picky, truly. After a little discussion you leave a victor, with Mammon having assured you he’d get you the best plant he can find.

It’s a dinky thing and looks like broccoli, but you love it. It’s green, a far cry from the toxic purples and deep blues that the Devildom flora holds. It’s home.

And what is Mammon to do when he sees the look on your face when he gave you that plant, but to get you more? He’s a weak demon! (for you alone.)

The others catch on, save for Lucifer (too closed off to associate so intimately with you), and Belphegor (trapped).

It starts small, Asmo presenting you with a bundle of live herbs he had imported from the human realm, assuring that they’d help with getting your beauty sleep. Beelzebub would occasionally gnaw on some of the leaves in your room, so together you grow some lettuce, so he would avoid getting a tummy ache from the inedible plants.

While you were doing some schoolwork for RAD in the library Satan had sat across from you, a large encyclopedia in his hands, detailing all human realm plants and their care and upkeep. He explains that he noticed your interest in keeping plants and is here to offer his assistance with acquiring and maintaining your collection.

Having all the plants around really does help improve your mood. It provides a hobby and a connection to nature that cannot be replicated elsewhere.

Though you may have underestimated how much space your room has, because it’s a battlefield trying to navigate your bedroom without knocking a vase or pot over. It seems your tripping as you try and place a eucalyptus (a gift from Mammon) had gathered some attention from a hallway passerby.

Lucifer stares.

He doesn’t visit your room often, but he’s fairly certain the only human realm plant they had installed was a tree, not whatever jungle you have going on. And jungle is a bit of an understatement.

You’d roped Leviathan into helping you set up some moss and algae tanks, just to add to the green that is your room.

“This is a fire hazard, MC.”

And with that, your greenhouse of a room gets spread throughout the HoL, a few plants in each room. It is a little frustrating to have to walk the whole length of the house when you need to water them and give them the concoction Solomon mixed up for you to help the plants not wither away in the hellish environment.

[evilios]

Hi! I have a question, i hope i don't bother you… I saw in a post that Daphne was a later adition into Apollo's history and makes sense, because Apollo was despicted with a laurel crown in very ancient vase paints, before the story of Daphne. And now i want to know… Which is the earliest association of Apollo with laurel? How the laurel tree become sacred to him, and well Delphi in general, because laurel leaves were used by the Pythia...

Hello, thank you for the question! 🌻

You don't bother me, I love rambling about him.

It's kind of tricky, but let's look at some sources.

TL;DR The first known mention of Apollo and laurel having a special connection comes from the Homeric Hymn to Apollo, approximately 6th century BCE. It just so happens to coincide with Athenian reforms that made Delos a place of worship and purified the island from all death and birth - and bay laurel just so happens to be a herb of purification (one of many).

Let me try to go deeper in:

The earliest depictions of Apollo, such as [ the triad from Crete ], dated 8th century BCE, lack association with laurel wreaths. Early bronze statuettes of him, such as Bronze statue of Apollo Metropolis (approx. 7th-6th century BCE) found in Thesally, lacks laurel imagery as well; Apollo is not yet crowned, however this is the time to which the Homeric Hymn to Apollo is usually attributed: the 6th century BCE.

of Phoibos Apollon of the golden sword, whatever he may say when he prophesies from the laurel below the dells of Parnassos.

— Homeric Hymn to Apollo (trans. by Apostolos N. Athanassakis)

In the notes to this translation, Athanassakis comments:

We do know that the first Delphic temple was built of laurel, that the priestess chewed leaves of laurel before she uttered her prophetic words, and that she also inhaled the smoke of burned laurel before she descended into the cavern.

He's referring to the story (I believe, it is majorly retold by Pausanias, a later source) about the Delphic temple of Apollo being made out of leaves, then wood, then stone. We obviously don't have much proof of that, but here you go: the earliest known written source that mentions laurel as significant to Apollo is a hymn from the 6th century BCE.

If you let me add on a few things, it was probably important to Ancient Greeks because of the connection between bay laurel (Grecian laurel, sweet laurel, whatever you call it!) and the rituals of purification.

Specifically that laurel (some laurel is actually toxic to burn but not that one) was treated as a cleansing herb and Apolline cults are notoriously associated with purification.

In literature, I can bring up the story of Orestes here; it's Apollo's temple that he runs to in search of cleansing of a crime.

History-wise, Ancient Greece had a whole thing with purification before ritualistic actions but Apollo's birthplace island was purified extensively throughout history to make it "fit" for worship. Lets have a look at this historical record:

The same winter the Athenians purified Delos, in compliance, it appears, with a certain oracle. It had been purified before by Pisistratus the tyrant; not indeed the whole island, but as much of it as could be seen from the sanctuary.

— Thucydides, History of the Peloponnesian War (trans. by R. Crawley)

This brings us back to the 5th and, since Pisistratus is mentioned, the 6th century BCE. Apollo builds up the connection with purification around the time that the Homeric Hymn is composed; the Delphic worship actively starts. Delos is officially a place you can't give birth or bury on, and all dead bodies are removed from the island, it's made virgin clear.

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Headcanon/Preference # 23

Gifs NOT mine.

Requested? Nope.

Year posted - 2023

Fandom - The Witcher (TV series)

Note that I haven't actually watched this show, I plan on watching it, but only the content that included Henry, because him getting fired for being "toxic" is total bullshit.

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| How did Geralt first cross paths with you? |

• Exactly how you would expect, he saved you from being killed by a Noonwraith while trying to gather wild herbs for your elixirs.

• He'd been traveling for a fortnight, and he'd dealt with all sorts of trouble along the way. Who knew his chosen path would be so troublesome.

• The day had been relatively calm and quiet, which he was grateful for, he needed a break. Then a sound suddenly broke through the quiet, a woman's scream from further up the road.

• Geralt couldn't help the sigh that passed his lips, of course he wouldn't get to have a break from the chaos of the world. But regardless of that he urged Roach to trot faster so he could help whoever potentially needed his assistance.

• The creature had you by the wrist, trying to slash at you with its sickle, which you continuously managed to dodge in the nick of time. Another terrified scream ripping from your throat as the Noonwraith shrieked at you.

• Geralt unsheathed his sword and got to work, slaying the Noonwraith with a little bit of trouble, he was exhausted after all. All the while you had rushed around gathering the herbs you had dropped as they fought.

• "Those must be pretty important." Geralt had observed gruffly after he'd slain the Noonwraith. You ducked your head in slight embarrassment, feeling as if he was scolding you for it. He then turned to leave, not honestly expecting anything from you.

• "Wait!" You called out to him, taking a tiny step back when he turned to look at you. "Thank you... For saving me." He nodded his head without a word. "I... I don't have anything to give to you as a reward, except for a hot meal and a warm bath if you'd like."

• Considering the week he's had, that was the best reward he'd had in what felt like an eternity. But Geralt maintained his cold demeanor, and accepted the offer, following you back to your modest little cottage nestled deep in the woods.

| When did Geralts obsession start? |

• That evening when you invited him into your home, you fed him well, and explained that you are a "potion master" as you put it. After he'd finished his meal, you tended to the small injury on his forearm, then left him to tend to the small bathhouse, preparing a warm bath as promised.

• You'd mixed in a few fragrance oils and flower petals into the steaming water. Trying to make it as relaxing as you could, without being overbearing. Geralt had found it amusing when he'd realized what you'd done, but he was pleased with the claiming atmosphere that now filled the bathhouse.

• You'd left him be as he soaked, rushing off to your cellar to start working on the elixir you'd been gathering herbs for. And as he soaked he thought about you, about how tender you'd been with him, and how you'd treated him so endearingly. So much so that an onlooker would have assumed you were lovers with the way you fretted over him. It was nice.

• You'd offer him lodging after his bath, giving him your own bed, and stating you'd sleep in the upper loft. He'd tried convincing you to just let him stay in the upper loft, but you declined saying how he'd saved your life, and you intended on offering him the best comfort that you could as a reward. He accepted this offer when you sternly informed him that you wouldn't change your mind on the matter.

• So that night he lay in bed, surrounded by the scent of you, just thinking about everything that's happened in such a short time since he'd met you. You been grateful for his help, you gave him a hardy meal, a nice bath, and now let him sleep in your bed. And yet unlike so many others he's helped, you didn't want anything in return. He'd saved you, and yet you didn't request that he help you with whatever other troubles you had.

• He wondered why you'd been so desperate to gather those herbs that you'd risk crossing paths with a Noonwraith. Let alone why you were intent on collecting them all again as he fought the creature, not even waiting until he'd slain it, or given up on gathering them all together.

• He wondered why you lived all the way out here, seemingly all alone deep in the woods. How you managed to survive your day to day life. You had few animals, and no crop fields, only a simple garden. And yet you seemed to be living comfortably, he'd seen nothing to suggest you had much wealth, but you weren't miserable like so many others he's met.

• His obsession started growing from the moment you'd welcomed him into your home. And as the day progressed and his curiosity peaked that obsession grew. You were a mystery to him, and with how kind you'd been to him he found himself smitten before the night was even out. Making his departure that morning an unwanted but necessary venture, so he'd left before the sun had risen, and while you still slept.

| Does Geralt try wooing you in a healthy way before snapping? And how does he do it? |

• He didn't stay away for very long, showing up one evening with a large gash on his arm, hoping you'd assist him. You of course rushed to do so, gathering healing herbs, cleaning and dressing the wound, and assuring him that he was more than welcome to rest at your home until he was well again.

• You'd offered him your bed again, stating it was more comfortable, and would be much easier for him to get to than the upper loft with his arm injury. This time however he wouldn't let you do that, and when you argued against it, he'd suggest that if he'd struggle with the ladder leading to the loft, that you could simply assist him.

• You'd thought about it for a moment, and eventually agreed with a heavy sigh, knowing you couldn't convince him otherwise. And that's what ended up happening, he struggled with the ladder, and you quickly rushed to place yourself directly behind him on the ladder, allowing him to lean against you as he slowly climbed up, following his pace patently.

• He was larger than you, but that didn't stop you from doing whatever you could to help him. And Geralt came to realize pretty quickly that that's just how you are, always trying to help in anyway you can without expecting anything in return. That made his obsession grow of course, no one had really ever been that way with him, so the feeling was addictive.

• Witchers heal much father than regular men, and combined with the healing herbs you'd used, his arm was completely healed by morning. And Geralt was intent on repaying your kindness, subconsciously hoping it would woo you the way your kindness had wooed him.

• In doing so Geralt worked on many chores around your homestead. Chopping wood, feeding your animals, repairing the damage he'd noticed to your home, even going out and hunting some game for you, which he later skinned and cured for you. Because of how much he was intent on doing for you, he had stayed with you for a few days.

• He would offhandedly praise your beauty, and often praised your skill crafts. He'd offered a helping hand with some of your elixirs, and went out and found some of the more rare ingredients you'd gotten low on. Most of which were only found in dangerous places. He assisted with cooking as well, and made as much small talk with you as he could.

| What happens when you politely reject Geralt for another man? |

• He'd learned so much about you in such a short time, and he found his heart felt lighter at the mere thought of you. So he decided he'd take a chance with you, feeling as if he'd never be the same without you in his life. He'd grown to love and adore you in so many ways, you were all he dreamed of, all he could think of, he needed you to be his.

• That evening after cleaning up after dinner, Geralt had taken a chance, and cupped your face between his hands. You looked at him with curiosity, then a surprised gasp escaped you when he suddenly kissed you. He all but melted into the kiss, but you remained stagnant, eventually pushing on his chest to get him to stop when he didn't seem to notice your lack of enthusiasm.

• He of course released you in an instant, worry and confusion etched onto his face. You then sheepishly explained that you were already betrothed to another, and you wouldn't accept his advances. You also explained that those elixirs that were so important for you to make were actually meant for your betrothed, who was suffering from a ailment you couldn't cure, but at the very least you could slow its progression.

• So you'd rejected him for a dying man... That hurt, much more than he'd ever admit. So he'd left without saying much, he needed to think, he needed to get away and let out his heartache. Which came out of him in a fit of rage as he brutally slain some bandits that he later crossed paths with.

| How bad will things get when Geralt does finally snap & become Yandere? |

• It's all he can think about anymore, you'd rejected him for a dying man, someone weak and unworthy of you. And his obsession starts taking a dark turn as that thought consumes him, and he allows that pent up rage to take over from time to time, which usually resulted in bloodshed.

• Eventually he finds his way back to your cottage, but he doesn't make his presence known to you. Instead he watches you from a distance, and follows you as you make your weekly trip to your betrotheds home. A basket containing the vials filled with your most powerful healing elixir hanging from your arm.

• The stone home was shabby, and in Geralts mind a pitiful excuse for a home. The dense woods surrounding it allowing Geralt plenty of cover to hide behind. And later into the evening, still early enough so you would get home before the sun went down, you'd left with an empty basket and a promise to return soon.

• Geralt stayed where he'd been hiding until the sun had set, and he knew you were long gone. Then he made his way into the stone home, breaking the door down in order to enter. Inside sitting at the table was a sickly man who wasn't nearly half the size of Geralt. He'd been eating salted meat and bread, a coughing fit taking hold of him as Geralt entered.

• The sudden of it all clearly terrifying the sick man, who through his coughing pleaded for his life. Geralt ignored him and walked around the little home, finding the vials of your elixir on the table beside the shabby bed. "Who are you?" The man asked once his coughing subsidized, Geralt looked to him with dark uncaring eyes.

• "You're the Witcher that saved (Y/n)." He realized quickly. That made Geralt smirk as he shoved the bedside table over, the vials breaking as they hit the stone floor. "What are you doing!?" He'd asked in a panic. "Cutting loose ends." Geralt stated calmly before leaving the man behind, knowing that without the elixir he'd die slowly, painfully, and all alone.

• That night Geralt showed up on your doorstep, a dark aura about him, making you nervous. Despite this nervousness however, you foolishly opened your home to him. And Geralt took full advantage of that, making it much easier for him to steal you away and runaway into the darkness. No one would ever come looking for you, and on such dangerous roads you'd never dare trying to run away from him.

| So what kind of a Yandere is Geralt? |

• Obsessive, possessive, jealous, and manipulative. He adores you, and he wants you all to himself. He's greedy and he'll kill anyone that might come between you, finding cleaver ways to cover the murder up.

• He would never harm you physically, but he will break you mentally. Then he will mold and reshape you into his perfect little obedient lover. You will love him the way he loves you, sooner or later, with or without the help of magic or potions.

• He will remind you constantly that without him you would be dead, that without him you would be nothing but meat for the crows. Sometimes he'll test you and pretend to leave without you in the night, if you run he will find you and punish you, if you cry out for him, he will come to you in an instant.

• Punishments from Geralt are usually being denied food and water for an extended period of time. Other times he'll make you walk as he rides Roach, and he won't allow you to take a break, making you walk for several days at times. Sometimes it'll be as simple as denying you things like, the warmth of the fire on a cold night, or a bedroll, leaving you to sleep on the hard icey forest floor.

• However when you are good Geralt is very tender and sweet with you. Making sure you are well sated and hydrated. Holding you lovingly in his arms as you ride together, his arms around your hips as you practically sat in his lap. Keeping you warm and comfortable on chilly nights, cuddling with you by the fire on a fairly comfy bed he'd made with things from the forest.

• When it's just you two he's easier to keep satisfied, simply do as he asks, do not fight him, praise him as often as he praises you, and never try running away.

• When others are around he's much harder to keep satisfied, as his jealousy knows no bounds, anyone and everyone is a threat in his eyes. So it's best just to stick with him, particularly right up against his side, with his arm around your shoulders reminding everyone you are his.

| Is Geralt worried anyone will find out? |

• Not in the slightest bit. Before ever taking you anywhere near other people, Geralt broke you to the point where you wouldn't try running away, or beg anyone to help you.

• In the beginning of it all he would chat with Roach about you, and as time went on, and he became more and more obsessed and deranged, he would loose his hold on morality of the situation, talking about it all allowed him to accept it much easier.

• If anyone tries to ever take you away because they know something is wrong, they'll vanish from town without a trace, along with the witcher and his female companion. You'll both become a ghost story in most of the settlements you pass through.

• Geralt is very good at manipulating people, and if that doesn't quite work he'll try to intimidate them, though it's rare but if that also fails then he'll simply kill them and anyone else that might get in his way.

• And considering how long you've been on the road now, he knows your betrothed is long dead, and you didn't have any family left, or any friends. No one knows who you are or where you came from except for him. No one cares about you anymore except for him, and he's sure to remind you of that fact until he's achieved breaking you completely into submission.

| What happens when/if you are ever hurt? |

• It was bound to happen sooner or later no matter how hard he might try to prevent it. You travel all over dangerous lands, and stay on the sidelines as he slays any beast or men that poses a threat. He really should have allowed you a dagger, or at least hide you somewhere safe when working a contract.

• He'd heard your panicked scream when one of the wolves managed to get passed him and corner you. It was as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, and the world was moving in slow motion. In reality he'd spun on his heel in an instant and thrown a knife into the wolfs throat before it could do anymore harm to you.

• He dispatched of the rest of the wolves, and rushed to your side as you sit on the ground, leaning against a tree and cradling your bleeding leg. He'd been making you wear trousers, as they were easier for you to travel in, but now he wished you'd had a dress on, as it would have been easier to get to the gash without causing you anymore pain.

• But that wasn't the case, so Geralt had to unlace the pants and pull them down until he can reach the gash. Cleaning it and dressing it as best he could, even taking advice from you when you told him what herbs would be best. Afterwards he pulled the pants back up as gently as he could, and pulled you up into his arms.

• After finding a safe place in the woods, Geralt set up a large camp. Somewhere for you to rest until your leg was healed, and where you would later train with a sword. He wouldn't make this mistake again, so he will make sure you can protect yourself properly if he cannot. While your leg is injured he would carry you everywhere, or let you ride Roach while he walked beside you to catch you if you fell.

| Is Geralts obsession in any way sexual? |

• In the very very beginning it wasn't sexual to him, you were to pure in his mind in the very beginning. But as time goes by, his love blooms into desire, which will deepen as his obsession grows, and even more so when he sees you bathe after he's taken you captive. He had to make sure you wouldn't run, and sometimes he couldn't help but look at you.

• He may be yandere and at times cruel, but he will not force himself onto you. Not for a kiss or anything else. Even when he wants to cuddle at night, he lets you initiate it, which due to the cold you did so often even when you were still fighting against him.

• But when you finally give into him, and begin to see his love and begin to love him in return. He's like a starved beast, everything is so fierce and intense, yet he is still gentle with you, knowing if he took it to far he could seriously hurt you, and that's the last thing he'd ever want.

• No one and I mean no one but Geralt can see your naked body. Not even the female maids you cross paths with in castles or keeps. If you need assistance in the bath or with your clothes Geralt will be the only one to help you. If someone barges in while you're in a compromising situation, he'll dispose of them for ever looking at what is for his eyes and his eyes alone. Doesn't matter to him who it is, and this could really prove to be a problem if it's someone of great importance.

• He's addicted to your taste, from the taste of your kisses, to the taste if your dripping pussy. Geralt would spend all day and night with his head buried between your thighs if you allowed him to. By the time he's finished with you, he'll be the only god you'll ever pray to.

• Geralt also fucking loves watching you ride his cock, and he doesn't care where you are when you do it. In the woods, an inn, a castle or keep, doesn't matter in the slightest. The sight if his cock stretching you out is far to divine a sight to pass up, not to mention how fucking incredible you look as you use him to fuck yourself into oblivion.

• Geralt will totally melt if you insist on sucking his cock, you look so precious and you do so well he doesn't honestly last long when you suck him off. Sometimes he'll order you to suck his cock and talk about all the filthy things he's gonna do to you as you work his length. But the he still much rather prefers to eat you out.

• He'll leave bruises on your skin from how tightly he holds you as he's fucking you. Sometimes he'll even leave bite marks, but he prefers when you bite him, it's just so primal feeling and he can't get enough. Geralt will warship your entire body for hours before sex and oftentimes after sex as well. Tender overstimulation and aftercare are his specialty.

• Geralt would give you the world on a silver platter if he could, but since that's easier said than done, he'll offer you his body to use as you please whenever you so please. And he feels most at home with his cock buried to the hilt inside of you, so be prepared for all the cockwarming you can take, because now there's no other way to sleep.

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*Alrighty y'all I'm feeling better finally, and I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing. So I hope you enjoyed this piece, and know that if you've sent in a request I've got them in my drafts and I'm slowly working on them again.

- The Jaded Monkey 🐒

[linasketchess]

My Tav Amara character sheet 🌼 Finally I settled on design & backstory for her that I love and just can't wait to make more drawings of her 🥰

Here some Amara lore (tw for ab*se): 🌿 Very shy, naive and gullible. Quiet type who prefers to listen. 🌿 Socially awkward big introvert who gets nervous with too many people around. She feels much more at ease around nature and animals. 🌿 Her parents are humans (mother is deceased, father status unknown). Wood elf druid (who become her adoptive father later on) found her in the woods after her mother sacrificed herself so she could run away after her village has been attacked. She had 5 years old at that time. 🌿 She was living in Emerald Enclave with her her adoptive father who taught her druidic ways. At that time she fallen in love with nature and animals and it helped her a lot to deal with her mothers loss. Due to her being a tiefling she didn’t have any friends but she befriended a bunny, eagle and a bear. 🌿 When she was 18 years old she found wounded Flaming Fist in the woods — she patched him up and they quickly fallen in love (from Amara side it was also pure yearning for acceptance and want to belong somewhere) and she moved to his place to Baldur’s Gate (her adoptive father didn’t approved that relationship but that didn’t stop her). Long story short, her partner after some time turned out to be very toxic and abusive and their relationship had really tragic end. From that time she didn’t really wanted to be with anyone and out of fear she rejected anyone who got too close to her. 🌿 Before the abduction she was living on the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate and was working as a druid-apothecary-healer. 🌿 She has lots of scars on her body that she diligently hides — same as ridges and prongs that she dislikes because she thinks it makes her looking hideous. 🌿 She loves painting and drawing — mostly nature and animals, sometimes people. Often she draws in her sketchbook that she treats as her personal diary. 🌿 At her free time she also likes reading books and picking flowers and herbs for her potions.

[cryptid-ghoulette]

just some cute and fluffy ivy and kit mountain ramblings. (thank you @sister-nyx for the encouragement as always) this was not proof read at all, so if you see any mistakes, no you didnt. (mount does get slightly injured, but nothing bad)

Every earth ghoul harnesses their element a little different, each one gravitating towards different types of plants and the various uses for them. Mount, ha always been drawn to herbs and remedial gardening, constantly fascinated by the multitude of ways plants and flowers can be made into healing potions and tinctures. Mountains green house is a relatively safe space, nothing too toxic or poisonous, and anything that might be harmful is well marked, so no ghouls or siblings accidentally poison themselves or others.

Ivy on the other-hand, is a bit more chaotic, interested in the darker side of plants, and all the various ways they guard and protect themselves against those who get too close, or ingest them. His greenhouse is off limits to others, with too many plants that could do serious harm with just a slight touch, let alone some small ghoul eating something they shouldn't.

Luckily the only ghoul kit that was regularly in Ivys greenhouse was fellow earth ghoul, mountain, who could withstand more than most ghouls, but Ivy still always kept a close eye on the smaller ghoul when he would come visit. He couldn't bear something happening to him on his watch,

Nothing serious ever happened to the little earth ghoul under ivys careful watch, but that doesn't mean they didn’t cause some mischief.

Mountain was immediately drawn to the Venus flytraps that ivy kept in little plastic trays of shallow water by the big front windows so they’d get plenty of light. He loved feeding them the live flys and grasshoppers, equal parts fascinated and scared as its jaws snapped shut around the doomed little insect.

He knew that they couldn’t hurt him, ivy had told him that many times, but that didn’t help the situation he found himself in one afternoon while ivy was outside talking to omega about some boring adult ghoul stuff (Mount wasn’t paying that much attention) leaving him on his own for just a moment.

he was carefully watering the fresh seedlings he’d planted in their little plastic trays earlier that day, humming happily to himself, his tail swishing behind him. He’d not realised the venus flytraps were behind him, until suddenly he felt a “snap” on his tail, and he let out a yelp, his tail quickly whipping from behind him, his eyes wide as he sees the plant dangling from the point of his tail.

Ivy comes running inside to find mountain sitting on the ground surrounded by clumps on dirt, softly sucking on the tail in his mouth in between sobs.

“Oh petal, what happened” ivy said as he sat down on the ground next to the little ghoul, wrapping one giant arm behind him.

He let out a small sniffle as he raised a finger, pointing to the flytrap on the ground, pot broken and the soil scattered around it. “Bi-Bit my tail…. Scared me” he said quietly, his tail still in his mouth.

Ivy pulled the little ghoul closer to him “it must have mistaken your tail for a fly” he said with a soft chuckle “can I see your tail please, petal?”

Mount nodded, letting him take the tail out of his mouth. Ivy knew there wouldn’t be any damage, but he knew Mount was frightened, and didn’t want to invalidate his feelings. He briefly inspected the end of his tail, humming softly to himself before getting up to grab a bandage from the first aid kit.

Ivy gently wrapped the fabric around where he knew the plant had bitten him, tying the ends together before sealing it all with a soft kiss.

“You’re good as new little one, you were so brave!”

Mountain sniffled one last time, a smile creeping across his face and he clung to the larger earth ghoul

“Thank you“ he murmured, his voice muffled against ivys chest.

Ivy ruffled his hair gently, his own smile growing as he felt the smaller ghoul purring gently against him

“Anytime, petal. Let's clean up this mess and then how about we head back inside, it must be diiner time and aether assures me he‘s making something tasty!“

Mount nodded eagerly, his tears forgotten, grabbing the broom from behind the door as Ivy picked up the shattered pot and the slightly sad looking plant that was once inside, making a mental note to replant it later.

Once the last shard collected and the dirt all swept into a neat pile, Ivy placed the plant on the bench “there we go, all done! Now how about that dinner?”

Mountain beamed up at him, his eyes sparking with excitement and love “yes! Yes! I’m starving!”

Ivy chuckled “let’s go then, we don’t want to keep aether waiting” ruffling mountains hair one last time, before watching the little ghoul eagerly race out the door and towards the main hall.

[rosesloveletters]

midnight rain.

pairing: Commodus x Fem. Reader

word count: 3,777

warnings: toxic/unhealthy relationship dynamics(?) and mentions of specific gender roles (I don’t know how else to describe it)

summary: A retelling of the ‘frightful dream’ scene . . . Your husband Commodus requests some time alone while he reads scrolls from the senate. When night comes and he still has not sent for you, you take matters into your own hands; you find him fast asleep, but never at peace. // Reader stumbles upon her husband Commodus who’s been crying and offers him comfort. 

author’s note: I never thought I’d write for Commodus again and I am so pleased that inspiration struck! A few things before reading: I am not trying to promote toxic masculinity or the idea that men shouldn’t cry or express emotion, but at the time, it would have been viewed as a weakness especially from someone of Commodus’ social standing. I wanted to delve into his mind a little and write a softer side to him that he surely has, but that we did not see too much of onscreen. His descent into madness intrigues me and I wanted to explore that in this fic somewhat. All seriousness aside, I just want to hold Commodus while he cries and writing this allowed me to do so, at least, in some form. If you read this fic, I hope you enjoy it. 

Edited. 

The emperor was midnight rain.

Winds rich with humidity blew through the open palace halls, carrying the pungent scent of fresh herbs, smoke from guttering torches and the heavy rains yet to come. Storms were brewing on the horizon and while the people of Rome slept, unbeknown to them, there too was a cacophonous melody playing inside of their Caesar’s tired mind.

It was far too late for you to be wandering the palace alone, but Commodus had bid you leave; he was to spend the twilight hours poring over scrolls from the Senate, as his father was apt to do in the past. The young emperor sought not to follow in his father’s footsteps, but be that as it may, some things cannot be helped.

You had busied yourself in the gardens earlier, when the light still stretched across the sky and plunged the Roman landscape in a vibrant orange glow that slowly faded until the wispy clouds high above your head twisted into a mesmerizing purple-pink majesty. You found solace amongst the flowers, watching idly as little bees busily buzzed from bloom to bloom.

When the light died and you still had not been sent for by the emperor, you took leave of the gardens and reentered the palace through the open doors.

Inside, you made yourself comfortable in the library for a few hours to delve into a book or two, devouring the words on each page like your mind was starved of food for thought.

Immersed in another world were you and did not pay mind to the bustling which took place beyond your imaginings.

Servants passed through the halls, completing their evening duties, lighting torches for ease of sight as the night set in, cleaning the already spotless floors, checking and rechecking stock to be certain there was enough of everything… Even the ghastly praetorians and their looming, statuesque figures faded while you were so captivated by ink on a page.  

As the pitch black of midnight bled in through the outer walls of the fortress, the hustle and bustle of evening had dissipated considerably and the only prevailing sounds were those of the whispering winds through silk curtains billowing in the minor disturbance or a barely imperceptible clink or grate of armor as a praetorian moved from his post.

Still, no word from your emperor.

That fact disturbed you, though you knew he was safe. The palace would have been thrust into chaos had anything been amiss, yet it still gnawed at you that this was highly unusual.

Commodus was protective to a fault and rarely let you out of his sight for any length of time, but he had been pulled in many a direction for the duration of the week at hand and you had to find entertainment where you could. The Senate and the people of Rome needed him now; you could wait.

When Commodus became emperor, everything changed like midnight.

You put your book back in its place on the shelf and quietly crept from your sanctuary. Your guards, stationed at the door, fell into step behind you and trailed you down the hall like phantoms of night. It felt silly to be so cautious inside the palace, but it was Commodus’ orders; what was the use in listening to him if he was just going to forget about you?

Turning, you dismissed them and, with a shared, confused expression between the two of them, they branched off and left down a side hall.

It appeared that you were finally alone, but such was never the case in Commodus’ domain.

You forged ahead beneath the watchful gaze of praetorians you knew were there, but you could not see them. They were there for your protection, to diligently guard the palace and the emperor, but their strict stoicism and the serious air about them made you nervous. The unwavering loyalty between emperor and his personal guard was strengthened by one man’s resolve, though your Commodus had been plunged into manic paranoia until it became oppressive.

Your footsteps carried, heightened by the fact that there were no other movements or sounds coming from elsewhere to blend with yours.

You took yourself straight to Commodus’ chambers.

There were two guards posted at the doors that were still shut tight. All was as it had been when you left, except these guards were fresh and bright eyed, having replaced the two that had been there before.

You approached them and bid they let you enter, “I request that you allow me access to the emperor’s chambers,” you said.

“Caesar has requested that he not be bothered,” one of them spoke, unconvinced to let you pass despite your connection to the emperor.

“I can assure you that, should Caesar be displeased by my admittance, it will not fall upon your shoulders.”

They seemed uncertain, but soon relented, stood aside and allowed you to enter.

You did not want to disturb him and you did your best to keep any sound of your entrance to a minimum as you slid through the doorway and into the vast room.

The cold floors were contrasted by the wet winds that blew in from the open terrace. Night was well under way and you were worn, though your walk from the library to your emperor’s chambers had accelerated your heartrate considerably. It would be nice to relax with him, alone, if he had found himself at a proper stopping place with his scrolls.

Upon initial inspection, the room looked relatively unchanged. The desk was still covered with open scrolls, parchment and ink. His quill rested idly by and, though all appeared well within your initial inspection, the only thing out of the ordinary was that the emperor was missing from his workspace.

You cast a look over your shoulder, noting the miniature scale of the colosseum was unchanged, and your searching gaze landed on the bed. Commodus was curled in on himself tightly, his back to you, as he snoozed lightly on the plush mattress.

You smiled to yourself, reasoning that he must’ve gotten so absorbed in his work that he’d not realized the time, grown exhausted and retired for the night before he could send for you.

Odd as that may have been, it was plausible. Commodus had never been known to have forgotten you before, but things were different now. He made a conscious effort to please the Senate and that meant spending extra time revisiting scrolls, passing legislation and participating in, as well as negotiating, Rome’s politics with the dry old men your emperor had once been so critical of.

Commodus rarely slept, at least, undisturbed sleep was near impossible for him to achieve. Perhaps the scrolls kept him from thinking of it, you thought, and that was why he had been able to visit the land of dreams, but you were relieved that he had finally found peace.

Your fingers skimmed one of the jade marble pillars as you shifted about the room, uncertain of how you should bridge this gap. Torchlight streamed in from the carved stone latticework, coating half of the room in a spectacle of oddly shaped shafts of light, including the curtains which framed the imperial bed.

To avoid the embarrassment of awakening him, you swiftly removed your sandals so that the noise of you walking would not echo. You shivered as the chill of the marble floor penetrated your skin and sank deep within you – a pleasant reprieve from the humid air.

However, when the wind blew in through the open terrace particularly hard, you drew your yellow stola in closer about your shoulders. You noticed that Commodus’ own garb had been removed – his cape and armor lay on a table not far from the colosseum model – and he slept in just his tunic.

It puzzled you that he lay on top of the linens and your brow creased in thought.

Tentatively, you approached the bed, careful to remember to step up onto the raised platform; the thought of tripping and unceremoniously toppling onto the emperor of Rome as he slept was not a pleasant one, but the thought still made you smile. If something of that nature were to happen, it might make Commodus shriek in terrible fright and send the guards at the door into a frenzy, but once he realized it was only you, there would have been no repercussions, only gentle laughter as he pulled you into the bed beside him.

You had fallen in love with the young Roman prince, before he had become emperor, three summers ago when the heat of late August was not the only thing which left you feeling breathless.

There was nothing he would not have done for you then and that was still the same now, even if everything else was different.

You remembered fondly how he had courted you, eventually asking for your hand in marriage and how you had eagerly accepted. You were wed the summer before this; little did you know those few months would be the last time that things would ever be so simple.

You sank onto the bed and the mattress dipped beneath your weight.

Commodus murmured softly and folded in on himself a bit more, instinctively protective of his vulnerability. It pained you to witness his paranoia, even while he slept. The ever-present thought that at any given moment someone might burst through the door and try to hurt him kept him from ever letting his guard down completely. That, among other things, kept him awake most nights.

The torches and oil lamps still burned bright; the fuel had been replenished earlier by some servants while Commodus was busy with his scrolls. Your heart ached for the young man who never slept in the pitch black of night; he was afraid of the dark and maybe that was why he never would look in the mirror either, because that same darkness lived in him, too.

You were compelled to reach out and touch him, then, gently stroking your hand along the curve of his face and as you did, you gasped in surprise, almost drawing your hand away; his warm cheek was damp with tears.

It had not been long since the emperor had fallen asleep, cried himself to sleep, you painfully reminded yourself.

Why had he not sent for you?

Resisting the urge to wake him, you shifted your weight as you settled in behind him and draped an arm over him. Soon, the solid press of his back against your front eased your nerves and you carefully and deliberately reached up and combed your fingers through his dark hair. He cooed softly in his sleep, sniffling a little as he relaxed beneath your touch. The tension flooded out of his shoulders while you held him like this. Even in his sleep, he could sense that the comfort was yours, brought to him by his cherished wife who loved him more than his own father ever had.

His father.

Commodus had tried to be the son that the great Marcus Aurelius had wanted. He had tried to make his father proud, but nothing he had done was good enough and, what was worse, he did not know why. Why did his father not love him? Commodus did not know the reason, but in the end, it was clear: Marcus Aurelius had longed for a different son.

Since then, Commodus had tried to squeeze love from various sources but it never satisfied him.

Not until he met you.

“My love…” you whispered to him, careful to lift him gently out of his dreams, “please awaken and talk to me.”

Commodus moaned and for a moment you were not sure if he had heard you until he responded with a full-bodied stretch and the rustling of fabric met your ears as he turned to glance at you over his shoulder.

His eyes were green like freshly sliced limes and just as bittersweet; they were red-rimmed and tired, lined with dark circles that alluded to the many nights he had suffered through without sleep.

He said nothing, but turned over until he was able to wrap his arms snugly around your shoulders. He remained that way for a time, clinging to you while his body adjusted to wakefulness after the impromptu nap.

His heavy eyelids fluttered and his head dropped to your shoulder, “I’m sorry…” the apology was whispered into your skin and you almost did not hear him.

When he looked up at you with an almost childlike expression on his face, you cupped his cheek in the palm of your hand and stroked across it with the pad of your thumb, “Commodus,” you started, “is everything alright, my love?”

He craned his neck and kissed your palm, “it is,” he said, “now that you are here.”

Your hand fell away and reached for his, sliding your fingers into the spaces between his own thicker digits. He squeezed you tight, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips before he looked away again, “I meant to send for you, but I was in such a state…”

He did not need to tell you more. He had been crying, that much was confirmed by the drying tear tracks upon his smooth cheeks and the redness in his eyes. Commodus’ emotions were often left unchecked; he felt so viscerally, violently and brutally and the tears would come, whether they were born out of pure sadness, or frustration and rage.

It was one thing to express emotion, but it was another entirely to witness it from the emperor of Rome.

The only time he could fall apart was when he was by himself.

He was supposed to be a fearless hero but instead he cried more than some women did and that was unacceptable.

At least, it had been for the stoic philosopher Marcus Aurelius, who had once grown tired of his son’s outbursts. Commodus doubted it would be any different now. The palace was his own, but this new life was not.

He did not want his servants or his guards to see him crying while asking after you; that was not an image he wished to paint for them.

While he waited for the tears to subside, he had relaxed on the bed until he succumbed to his exhaustion.

“That is alright,” you assured him, “I was reading in the library for a time because I thought you were still at work.”

“No,” he responded, the dulcet tones of his honeyed voice was indicative of sleep, the vestiges of which still clung to him like ivy on stone, “I finished with that some time ago. These senators demand more from me each passing day that I have no choice but to work as I do now, just like my father had done.”

That sentiment hit some nerve within him and was certainly the source of these tears and what had brought them forth, “Commodus,” you repeated his name but the sound of it did not reach him.

He was looking through you, unsettling as that was, he was prone to it. Often did you wonder what he heard and saw in these moments that were lost to the wind and rain. These elements were, too, present within the emperor who was waning into crescent, tearstains glittering like stars on his cheeks – this man was made of midnights and he was hauntingly beautiful.

Only, when the darkness had overtaken him, he did not reemerge anew.

You tenderly kissed his forehead; his skin was warm against your lips. He drew you closer through the barely imperceptible inhale as his nose rested at your collarbone and you tilted your head back, allowing him to find comfort where it was needed.

He had dropped your hand in favor of holding you while his full lips pressed bruising kisses against the bare column of your neck. Your fingers found his hair again, giving it a gentle tug of affection that made him groan appreciatively.

He lifted his head and leaned close, his sweet breath fanning across your face as he pressed his forehead to yours. His eyes flickered in the lamplight as he looked at you, “do you know what my father said once?”

You languidly chased his lips with your own, but he eluded your desires, resolving to let you capture and conquer him in his own time, when he was ready.

“I don’t,” you replied, “won’t you tell me?”

“He said that it’s a dream…a frightful dream, life is.”

You looked into Commodus’ eyes, but he was somewhere else. You did not have the courage to speak up until he asked you, “do you think that’s true?”

You hesitated, momentarily assessing how best to respond.

“Sometimes it is,” you settled on a half-hearted agreement for now and his shoulders slumped into you as though out of some sort of relief.

“And I have only you to share it with…” Commodus’ eyes brimmed with tears and he bit back a sob, “but I have no proper time with you now. It is all like some great nightmare!”

Your arms encircled him comfortingly and you rubbed his back to soothe him, understanding that his tender state was in part the fault of his father who had failed him as a child, but also because Commodus was just so tired. In his fitful sleep, it was difficult to reach him, but even more when he was awake because he could not escape his nightmares even during the day.

There was a slowly burning madness inside of him and soon it would boil over.

But, not tonight.

“Shh, Commodus.”

You held him close while he cried, shoulders shaking with the force of each painful sob that carried and reverberated off the palace walls and made it seem all the louder.

You pulled him in against you, your bodies flush to one another and you could feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest.

Commodus scrounged for love in every aspect of his life, searching for fulfillment in dealings with his guards, the people of Rome and occasionally even the senate. He desired love himself, but he also wanted to be the provider of love to his people because if they respected him then perhaps, they might love him, too.

It was you who gave him what he needed, only, it seemed that it was not enough.

He had an empire to run, scrolls to read, legislation to propose and citizens to care for; Commodus was meant to be an emperor first and a husband, second.

His sobs grew quieter and more restrained, changing from full-bodied cries to soft whimpers. Your cheek rested against the crown of his head, your hand still rubbing his back as you held tight to him.

Many times had you found yourself in this position, but few of them were like this.

The tearful emperor would have been perceived as weak by anyone who might have seen him like this, but not you. You knew what he was capable of, even if no one else did. The moon might only reflect the sun’s light back upon the shadowed earth, but there were things one could only dream of that lurked in the darkness that not even the light of day could brighten. There, too, were demons veiled by the emperor’s dark side and once in a blue moon they were revealed by the light.

He was quiet now, but he breathed deeply, dragging in oxygen harshly through his nose while his cheek rested gently against your chest. He could listen to your heartbeat in this position and his lips bore a marginal smile.

“You know I love you,” Commodus whispered to you in that unassuming, hushed tone his voice took on when he was calm.

His lips found purchase on your neck again and you released a pleased sighed, “and I love you, too.”

The storm had passed.

The drought had been the worst, but the rain was over and the clouds had begun to part; Commodus was returning to himself, and after the downpour, you both would flourish again.

When he was overwhelmed, Commodus had to purge the emotions that consumed him.

“Shall we ready ourselves for bed, darling?” you posed the question as not to disrupt him; he seemed comforted by your closeness, satiated and remedied now that you were in his presence once more.

You felt him nod once, “I think that would be for the best,” he agreed, lifting his head when the sound of rain suddenly flooded into the room.

Beyond your chambers, the sky opened and rain came down from the heavens like you had anticipated might happen into the night. The gods were crying with the emperor, watering the lands of rich, fertile soil for the flowers, plants and food that would grow here.

Commodus smiled wistfully as he gazed out to watch the droplets fall to earth, “What did you mean?” he asked.

The sudden question perplexed you.

“Meant what, darling?”

“That life is a frightful dream, only sometimes,” he clarified, “implying that it is not so all of the time.”

He had turned to look at you and your heart skipped a beat. Your lover’s eyes held their usual mischievous brightness that enchanted you, sparkling like springtime and full of icy vitality. His full lips parted as he waited for your response and you had to steel your imagination against kissing him instead.

Your fingers played with the hair at the nape of his neck that had grown long enough to curl a little, “well,” you began and felt him press even closer, if that were possible, as he hung on your every word, “life does often feel like a dream to me, but not always an unpleasant one.”

“Yes,” he appeared childlike as he agreed with you, “I suppose that for all of the unpleasantness, there are still good things.”

“Like you,” you said, “us.”

Commodus expelled a brief, lighthearted chuckle, “you are right about us, my love.”

That is a good thing. We are a good thing.

You heard the admission in his voice, he did not need to say it because you felt it. It was there, in all that he did. You were enough for Commodus and you always would be, even on days when he was pulled in different directions that did not lead to you; he would always come home.

The love was present in the way he held you, kissed you, made time for you, loved you.

Yes, Commodus loved you.

He always had.

[path-of-grass-and-leaves]

Localizing A Magical Journal

When I was starting out, every book I read on the subject of witchcraft seemed to contain a long list of crystals and imported herbs. Many of these were not easily accessible and didn't fit into my personal practice. Magic came easier to me and became significantly more meaningful after I started localizing my practice.

It has also made writing my magical journal that much easier. Even after over a decade of practice, I still found the task of writing a grimoire to be a daunting one. Adding more local and personal elements to my practice has helped me to organize my journal, making the act of actually writing in it much less strenuous.

If you're looking to localize your grimoire and don't know how to get started, here are a few ideas:

Sections for Native and Invasive Plants

This section can include folklore, culinary uses, medicinal uses, cultivation, a planting calendar, which animals/insects they attract, and a personal correspondence list. I would write one chapter for invasive plants and another for native ones. Additionally, you could add a section for garden crops if desired. I would also add notes on toxicity to humans and pets.

Why work with invasive plants? Because they're abundant! Foraging them helps reduce their population and we get the benefit of a new plant to use in our practice. In fact, mugwort, a popular herb among the occult community, is an invasive plant where I live.

Local Animal Symbolism Section

I organize my animal symbolism section by mammals, reptiles, birds, amphibians, and fish. These chapters can include folklore, physical characteristics, behavior, habitat, diet, and correspondences/symbolism.

Entries can be made more personal by observing animals and recording experiences (just no hand feeding or interacting). I also like to include different forms of veneration. This can be spiritual in nature, like leaving offerings, or mundane, like installing a nesting box for birds.

A chapter on bugs and insects is also a good idea. This could be helpful if you keep an outdoor garden and want to record information on common pests and pollinators.

Local Stones and Crystals

One of the least ethical occult practices, in my opinion, is the use of crystals. The rising popularity of crystals is the cause of a lot of suffering. Does that rose quartz really promote love when it was sourced through child labor? It's important to know where your crystals come from and how they are harvested.

One way to localize your stone and crystal collection is to research which are specific to your area and where to find them. For example, there are certain rivers in my area that contain agate, jasper, and quartz. If you can't go out and search for them yourself, finding an ethical distributor to purchase from is more than sufficient.

Entries can include their composition, how they are formed, what they are used for, and personal correspondences.

Family Recipies and Local Edible Plants

I imagine that having a recipe section would be very important to a practitioner who performs most of their workings in the kitchen. I love to cook, but it rarely makes its way into my practice unless I'm preparing an offering of some sort. Either way, I think that having even a small section of culinary recipes can be beneficial, because it adds a personal element to a grimoire.

I would include your favorite recipes, family recipes, and even dishes that can be made from locally foraged plants. Correspondences can also be noted for each dish and recipes can be specific to certain deities, holidays, or workings.

Urban Legends and Local Superstitions

Urban legends and local ghost stories can be a fun addition to any personal grimoire. You can research the origins of these stories, read the personal experiences of others, and record them in your journal. You can also visit places associated with urban legends (only if it's safe and legal to do so) and record your own experiences.

Another way of localizing your grimoire is to research common superstitions in your area and where they come from, or record your own family superstitions.

Local Spirits and Places of Importance

For spirit workers, research local spirits and entities, their associations, appearance, and origins. In addition to this, write individual entries on spirits that you work with personally. I would include their assumed appearance, location, personality, how to call them, preferred offerings, and areas of strength/weakness. You can also add a section on thoughtforms, if you use them in your practice.

It's also important to think about which local areas are significant to you personally. Is it a river? A clearing in the woods? A hiking trail? Your own backyard? Make a list of areas that inspire you. How can you get there? What grows there? What kind of animals live there? Are there spirits? Would you perform specific workings in these areas?

[fallenclan]

The trees were bleeding their leaves again, the vibrant reds and oranges blurring together in a colorful cascade. With leafbare fast approaching, Silverpaw knew the medicine den would need to be fully stocked. She was so engrossed in her task that she hardly noticed the crunch of leaf litter behind her until a familiar scent hit her nose.

"Applepaw?" Silverpaw hissed in shock. "What are you doing here?"

"I sneaked away from Toro," Applepaw giggled. "What are you doing? Boring medicine cat stuff?"

"I'm collecting herbs," Silverpaw replied. She felt the need to chastise Applepaw but couldn't bring herself to do it, the silly grin on Applepaw's face making Silverpaw's chest feel warm.

"Is Sunwish around?"

"She's nearby." Silverpaw gently placed the burdock she had been collecting on the ground. "Was there a reason you snuck off to find me?"

"I like hanging out with you, and Toro keeps lecturing me about proper hunting etiquette or whatever. Who knew hunting had so many rules!" Applepaw groaned, dramatically collapsing to the ground for emphasis. Silverpaw couldn't help but laugh, whiskers twitching in delight.

"She'll only lecture you twice as much for sneaking off, you know."

"Worth it." Silverpaw felt herself grow warm again. Applepaw thought she was worth getting a stern lecture for.

"Actually, there was something I wanted to tell you," Silverpaw admitted, feeling her heart begin to race. She didn't know what she'd do if Applepaw reacted poorly. "I, uh. I've been talking to Sunwish and I think. . ." Silverpaw trailed off.

"Think what?" Applepaw's nonchalant demeanor had vanished, the beginning of concern in her gaze.

"I'm a she-cat," Silverpaw blurted. "I think I've always been one, I just didn't know. It's why I was so happy to change my name to Silverkit instead of being. . ." Sylvester.

"Oh." Applepaw shifted to her paws. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I guess I'm not the only she-cat in the friend group anymore," Applepaw purred. Silverpaw practically felt herself melt with relief. "Thank you for telling me. I'm sorry if I ever made you feel uncomfortable by calling you a tom-"

"No, no! You didn't. . . I didn't know either," Silverpaw spoke hurriedly.

"Okay, I'm glad, because-"

"Applepaw?" Sunwish's stern voice sliced right through whatever Applepaw had been about to say. "What are you doing bothering my apprentice? Where's Toro?"

"Uh." Applepaw smiled sheepishly. Sunwish was unimpressed, her tail twitching irritably.

"We're done collecting herbs anyway. Make yourself useful and help us carry them back. We can discuss the punishment for your misbehavior with Goldenflare and Toro later."

"Sorry," Silverpaw mouthed behind her mentor's back. Applepaw only shrugged. Her gaze said it all. Worth it.

...

"This is daisy, it's highly toxic to cats so don't grab any of those. . . ah, here's what I was looking for! This is yarrow, it can be super useful for treating wounds that have poison or venom in them." Silverbelly waded through a patch of fronds to reach the aforementioned yarrow, scooping up a pawful. "I'll carry these if you can get the borage." A pause. "Applebranch, are you listening to me?"

"What?" Applebranch blinked, coming to the sudden realization that she had been staring at Silverbelly. "Oh, yes. I've been listening, I promise. Your fur just looks so beautiful in the sunlight. Not that it doesn't always look beautiful, but you know what I mean."

Silverbelly ducked her head behind a particularly tall frond to hide her face. "Thanks." That warm feeling in her chest was returning. It seemed to happen more and more lately, everytime she was around Applebranch.

"You don't need to thank me." Applebranch padded forward, crushing a few ferns as she went. She swiped the borage from Silverbelly, pelt brushing against Silverbelly's own.

"Well, I've been meaning to thank you, not just for the compliment. It's nice having someone to talk to while I collect herbs. Sunwish's never really been one for conversation; she can be a bit grumpy, but she means well."

"I don't know how many times I need to say it. I like spending time with you. No, not like. I love spending time with you," Applebranch insisted, brows furrowed. "You're compassionate, intelligent, understanding. . . you're my best friend."

Silverbelly couldn't help the purr rising in her throat. She could even feel her eyes watering slightly. "I love spending time with you too, Applebranch."

"Then let's keep spending time together."

"Always."

...

"I like you."

"I think that's already been established."

"No, I like you."

"Well, I like you too."

"Really?"

"Obviously."

"So are we. . . ?"

"If you want to be."

"I do."

"I do too."

...

It's only been a moon since they've become mates when Applebranch told Silverbelly that she was expecting kits.

"I won't let anything happen to you, or our kits," Silverbelly promised. She had been told what happened with Morningbloom.

"I know." Applebranch rested her chin on Silverbelly's shoulder, wrapping her tail around the medicine cat's flank. "I trust you."

"Are you nervous? I'm nervous."

"About the kitting? A bit. About being a parent? No. I think we'll do great."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know us. I know our kits will grow up loved and well cared for."

"I can't wait to meet them," Silverbelly purred. She didn't bother to hide the tears in her eyes.

...

Flykit was running like a whirlwind around the medicine den. Mudkit couldn't stop giggling, watching her brother race about with glee. Silverbelly was laughing too, even as some of the herb stores were scrambled. Sunwish was decidedly less amused.

"Flykit, what in StarClan's name are you doing?"

"I'm showing Mama my warrior skills! Look how fast I am!" The tom came to an abrupt halt in front of Sunwish. "Wanna see my battle skills? I'm gonna be a great warrior!"

"Sunwish is a medicine cat, silly," Mudkit chirped. "She isn't interested in warrior stuff."

"Mama likes to watch and she's a medicine cat," Flykit argued.

"I would like to see your. . . 'battle skills,' Flykit, but I would like to see them out of the medicine den, okay?" Sunwish interceded before the kits could get into an arguement.

Silverbelly blinked gratefully at Sunwish. Silverbelly wasn't certain the senior medicine actually wanted to watch kits attempt fighting stances, but she was glad that Sunwish had at least feigned interest.

"Come on, kits, let's go find Applebranch and then you can show her and Sunwish your battle moves."

"Not me. I just wanna watch," Mudkit mewed.

"That's okay, sweetheart. You don't have to join in."

For not the first time, Silverbelly wondered if Mudkit would follow the path of a warrior or chose something else entirely.

...

"I just can't believe it." Silverbelly's voice was trembling slightly. "I know a lot of cats didn't like her, but she wasn't--she wasn't cruel. Sunwish was a great cat. She. . . I look up to her so much. Why would someone do this?"

Applebranch pressed herself against Silverbelly's side, licking her mate's ear. Applebranch had never been the best at comforting cats, but she was ready to support Silverbelly in whatever way she needed.

"I feel so lost, Applebranch."

"You'll make it through this, Silverbelly. I'm here for you. So are Dawnshine and Maplethorn. Even Honeygleam, though he can be a bit of a mousebrain sometimes. We'll all support you, no matter what happens."

"I love you, Applebranch."

"I love you too."

...

"So Lichenstripe came from ShallowClan?"

"Yeah, isn't it crazy? Floodstar exiled him over some vision he had."

"Floodstar must be a real mousebrain to exile a medicine cat and ignore a vision from StarClan."

"I guess it's nice to have extra paws in the medicine den. Stormpaw has been such a blessing, honestly. He's so sweet with patients and so funny, too. He makes me laugh."

"He can't possibly be more funny than me, right?"

"How badly would you be hurt if I didn't respond?"

"Terribly."

"You're such a goose, Applebranch."

"I know."

...

"I'm a tom," Crowflame stated firmly. "Also, I might be in love with Blizzardfang."

Applebranch let out a delighted sound similar to a squawking bird, nearly knocking Crowflame over in an embrace. "Blizzardfang? Oh, honey, she'll be great for you!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Crowflame wrinkled his nose, detangling himself from his mother's embrace.

"We're just proud of you, sweetheart. Always be true to yourself, no matter what," Silverbelly purred. "My wonderful son."

Crowflame couldn't help the purr that rose in his chest.

He would later deny it.

...

Applebranch could barely process what was happening through the haze of fever. Her leg was mangled beyond repair, twisted at such an unnatural angle that Applebranch knew she'd never be able to walk on it again.

The medicine den was filled with the scent of death, with a gentle blanket of rosemary and lilac overtop. Was it her own death that Applebranch could smell? It couldn't be. And whose tears were those? "Silverbelly?" Applebranch croaked.

The sniffling abruptly stopped. "A-Applebranch? Are you awake?" A silver muzzle came into view. "Applebranch, we're going to have to remove your leg. It's-it's going to be okay."

"Why. . ." Applebranch trailed off, having trouble focusing. Everything was so colorful and swirly. "Why are you crying?"

"Oh, Applebranch, something terrible has happened."

It was only a few days after Applebranch's leg was amputated that she learned Molesong had died.

...

"How do you know if you like a cat? I mean, wanting them to be your mate and all?" Eaglestripe was padding alongside Silverbelly, both she-cats weaving through a tangle of ivy to reach a hollowed out alcove. The best moss could be found within, so soft even the grumpiest elder couldn't complain.

"Oh. May I ask where this is coming from?" Silverbelly glanced at her granddaughter curiously. The she-cat had been spending a lot of time with Daisypetal lately.

"It's just that you and Applebranch have such a strong relationship. You both really love each other, you know? I want that kind of relationship. How do I know if she--I mean, if a cat, hypothetically, is right for me?"

Silverbelly chuckled fondly, eyes crinkling with affection. "I knew Applebranch was right for me because she made my heart feel warm."

"What?"

"Whenever I'm around her, I feel so warm and fuzzy. I feel like I could do anything. I'll never feel lost as long as she's by my side."

"Wow." Eaglestripe had stopped walking. "You've always felt that way about her?"

"For a long time, yes. I think I knew for sure when I first became a full medicine cat. You're young, Eaglestripe. If there's someone who makes your heart warm, you should tell them and see if they feel the same. It's worth a shot, at least."

"Thanks, Grandma." Eaglestripe purred softly. "I had one more question."

"Yes, sweetheart?"

"How did you know you were a she-cat?"

...

"A mediator?" Silverbelly had been sorting herbs when Mudsplash padded into the den, exitedly rambling about an idea she'd had.

"Yes. I'll help cats solve their problems, with each other or with themselves. I could even solve problems with the other clans!" Mudsplash grinned, her one visible fang peeking out. With such enthusiam in her gaze, Silverbelly was struck by how much Mudsplash took after Applebranch, not in temperament, but in expression.

"Then FallenClan would be lucky to have you as its first mediator."

"You're just saying that 'cause you're my mom. That's okay though, I know I'll be a great mediator," Mudsplash declared. "I'm going to go talk to Goldenstar about my idea. Would you come with?"

"Wait."

"What?"

"Your fur," Silverbelly chided, padding closer to inspect the unruly and often matted fur of her daughter. "Let me clean you first. You'll want to look presentable."

"Mama. . ." Mudsplash let out an annoyed exhale. "Grandpa doesn't care about how my pelt looks."

"He may be your grandfather, but he's still your clan leader."

"I'm not a kit. You don't need to fuss over me," Mudsplash sighed, but her tone relayed affection rather than annoyance.

"I'm your mother. I'll always fuss over you."

"As long as your fussing is quick! I really want to talk to Goldenstar, before he's busy with some other thing."

"I'll try not to take too long, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Mama."

...

Every shadow, every flicker of light. They were all out to get her. Silverbelly hadn't stopped shaking since Otterslip had been exiled. Her wound was bound tightly with a poultice and cobwebs, but she could feel the way his claws had torn through her flesh.

He killed Stormsight. He tried to kill me. He's going to kill me. What if he comes back? What if he attacks me while I'm out on the territory? What if-

Uneven pawsteps approaching the medicine den caused Silverbelly to flinch, but she quickly forced her fur to lie flat. She recognized those pawsteps, and her suspicions were confirmed when Applebranch poked her head into the den.

Her gaze was haunted. "Silverbelly, I'm so sorry. I should have been there."

Silverbelly opened her mouth to respond but no words came out. Instead, a strangled sort of cry escaped her. Applebranch was beside her in an instant, curling into Silverbelly's nest alongside her. "Eaglestripe saw to your wound? . . . good. You aren't bleeding anymore? Have you eaten? Do you want me to go get-"

"No." Silverbelly bristled and Applebranch's eyes widened in alarm. "No, don't leave me. Please."

"Oh, Silverbelly." Applebranch pressed her nose against Silverbelly's cheek. "I won't leave you, I promise. If he ever dares show his face around here again, I'll-"

"Let's not talk about Otterslip, please."

"Okay. Do you. . . want to talk about anything?"

"Not really."

"Why don't you rest, and I'll keep watch, okay?"

"Okay. . . okay, thanks Applebranch."

"I'll keep you safe."

...

"How's Moosepaw doing?" Applebranch yawned, a wash of contentment spreading over her. A half eaten squirrel lay at her side, which Hawkwish had now begun to finish off.

"He's doing really well. I had a talk with him and he's been feeling a lot better lately." Hawkwish mumbled around a mouthful of squirrel, "He's going to do great things, I know it."

"You're doing great things too, honey." Applebranch blinked warmly at Hawkwish. "I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks, Grandma. That. . . means a lot."

"I mean it."

"I know."

...

"Salmonpaw and I caught that foxheart at the border yesterday."

"Did you?" Silverbelly's eyes widened in surprise. Nobody had told her.

"We chased him off, of course. I even gave him a good scratch, but the rat scrambled off before I could do much else," Applebranch grumbled. "I'd like to tear his flea-ridden pelt off."

"Just be careful." Silverbelly pressed herself against her mate's side. "You're old, Applebranch. You could always-"

"I'm not retiring," Applebranch sniffed, growing irritable. "You can't make me, Silverbelly."

"I wouldn't try to," Silverbelly chuckled lightly. The thought of Otterslip disturbed her, but the tom didn't frighten her as much as he used to. Now thinking about him just made her. . . sad.

"I know. Sorry for snapping at you. I think I'm just, I don't know, feeling insecure about getting old or something." Applebranch let out a frustrated grunt.

"If it helps, I'm getting old too," Silverbelly replied gently. "And so is Maplestar. Have you talked to him about any of this?"

"No, Maplestar is stressed enough without his sister complaining about her aching joints."

"Have you been in pain lately?" Silverbelly frowned, briefly scanning Applebranch's pelt for signs of tension.

"My leg has been aching again, that's all."

"Well, tell me if it gets worse, okay?"

"Will do." Applebranch paused. "Do you want to go swim in the star-pool? It might make my leg feel better. . ."

"You just want an excuse to show off your fishing skills."

"Guilty."

"I can afford to take a break," Silverbelly replied. "Let's go, before it gets dark out."

...

"I'm not a she-cat or a tom."

"That's all right, sweetheart. Should I start referring to you as 'they' or is there something else you'd prefer?"

"They works just fine for me," Eaglestripe grinned. Silverbelly gave their shoulder a supportive lick for good measure.

...

Silverbelly let out a delighted yowl. "I can still touch the bottom with my paws!"

"No way!" Applebranch guffawed, splashing water at Silverbelly. "I keep trying to swim down there but I always run out of breath before I can make it."

"Remember when you used to swim to the bottom and grab little pebbles for me?"

"I can't believe you remember that," Applebranch chuckled.

"You taught me how to fish, too."

"Yeah, you were actually really good at it, too."

"What! You told me I was bad at fishing!" Silverbelly scoffed in disbelief.

"I might have lied," Applebranch purred, a mischevious glint in her gaze. "I wanted to keep 'teaching' you how to fish," Applebranch admitted sheepishly.

"So all those times you were 'correcting' my technique, you were really just making stuff up?"

Applebranch opted to duck beneath the pool's surface instead of answering, once again trying to reach the pool's bottom. Silverbelly shook her head, fondness flooding her.

Later that day, Silverbelly added a new pebble to her collection.

...

"I feel numb."

"I feel ancient."

"Do you think we've lived good lives?"

"Mostly, yes. I'm glad we lived them together."

"I miss my brothers. I miss my father. I miss our daughter. I miss all of the friends we've lost. I don't know if I can live with this grief anymore."

"There's a lot of cats I miss, too."

"How do you get by?"

"It's simple. I know that they're waiting for me. Soon, they won't have to wait any longer."

"Does it scare you?"

"Not anymore. Are you afraid?"

"I don't think so. As long as we're together."

"Always."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

-🐉

(cat romance, cats in love... here is the promised silverapple fic! a collection of moments from their lives, including some moments with their children and grandchildren as well.

please go read lollipop anon's silverbelly fic and beetle's maplestar & silverbelly fic! they're both so good and gave me lots of inspo

hope you enjoy❤️)

SCREAMING AND CRYING.... DRAGON ANON THIS IS SO GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!! i am in LOVE with your characterizations of everybody, especially Sunwish--you captured her perfectly. prickly but wanting to do better.

THE LAST BIT..... i will live out the rest of my days in a grain silo. absolutely DEVESTATING. you dont know the kind of agony you are causing me

[g0tmilkx3]

FOOLISH

Things were normal after their breakup. Well normal for them.

OR

Carmy doesn't have the balls to tell his family he and Syd broke up.

Warnings: MINORS DNI, Arguing, Angst, Past Relationship, Toxic Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Unprotected Sex, Jealousy If You Squint, Alcoholism, Marijuana Mention

Divider: firefly-graphics.tumblr.com GIF: trainstationgoodbye.tumblr.com

Part 1 | Part 2

A/N:

I tried to remain as true to the characters as I could. That's why there's a toxic relationship tag. You and I both know what would happen if those two got together. The title is based on Foolish by Ashanti btw. Sorry in advance for any weird formatting. Tumblr is being weird but it's Posted on AO3 with the correct formatting.

The sun rose as it did any other day. When the birds sang and car horns cried to break up the melody, Sydney Adamu hustled to The Bear. Through the labyrinth she knew as Chicago she found a place that brought her relaxation and excitement. A place that raised her blood pressure while simultaneously bringing it down to a happy medium. She and her business partner slash idol (slash ex), worked tirelessly to curate the perfect dining experience. Well almost perfect. But, from Sydney's experience, they were near perfection.

A colorful knitted cap sat upon her head, her braids draped down below. With each stride, the blond tips would bounce against her back and shoulders creating a rhythm that stayed in tune with the music blaring from her AirPods.

°⋆ I’ve seen you with the lights off I’ve seen you and you think you love me I’ve seen you with your hat off I’m dreaming of a time you knew me ｡⋆

Wind swooshed around her, dirt twisted before her sending dust to scratch her eyes. Water tip-toed the rim of her lids.

°⋆ So baby, is it all you’ve got? Tell me if you got some more-ore I’m thinking of some time off, off. I’m dreaming of a time when you knew me ｡⋆

No matter how many times Chicago hurt her, she just couldn't leave. Brandished over her heart, a chain that anchored her to the city. A gold chain that she found hidden in a velvet box that was gifted to her by her ex-lover on her last birthday. Wearing it still felt stupid now, but she could never bring herself to remove it. Fleeting memories from her youth reminded her of who she once was. So strong-willed and outspoken.

°⋆ Some things never seem to fucking work ｡⋆

While she still retained much of her buoyant personality, it was becoming harder and harder to remain strong. Sanguine her lenses once were, now not so much.

“Eighty-six the foie gras chefs!” Carmy echoed, not taking his eyes off the sizzling slice of filet mignon in his skillet. He scooped up melted butter and herbs before pouring them over the scorching meat. A concentrated red stream of blood trailed down a crevice embedded in the meat.

“Yes, Chef!" The brigade echoed back, in a cultish chant.

"Eh, it was experimental anyways.” Syd shrugged continuing her prep of the day’s veggies.

Carmy chuckled sparing a glance at her as he plated what he'd just finished preparing. "And kind of illegal." 

“Are we still eighty-six-ing the-“

“Rum cake? Yes, Marcus is out today and we just don't have the coverage” He cut a small piece off of the beef and neared Syd. His voice became small as he reached her bubble. "There's a surplus of prepped dessert he made last night."

“Marcus? Out?” She took the piece of steak Carmy held out for her into her mouth without missing a beat. An involuntary moan bubbled out of her throat. “You’re unreal,” She could swear a pink tint spread across his cheeks, but he turned away to grab the plated dish before she could examine it any further. “I was just talking to him last night, what’s up?”

“His mom.” Carmy stepped aside as each member of the kitchen staff stopped by to steal a piece of his latest dish. Their eyes remained connected despite the intrusion of the staff stepping in and out of their line of sight. “I didn’t ask too much he sounded bummed.”

“Fuck, I should talk to him.” She frowned down at her station finding that most of what she needed prepped was prepped. “T, I did the veggies can you please get on the broth?” She called while wiping down where she'd just been working.

“On it Jeff!” Tina got to work as Syd made her way to the back alley removing her blues on the way. 

“Syd? I'll be right back Mom.” There was static breaking his voice up before he came through clearly. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Hey chef is everything alright? Carm was vague as usual…” Her eyes found the clear blue skies, there wasn't a cloud in sight. The expansive scape reminded her of his eyes. How he could convey so much to her in silence. So much goddamn information was stored in his eyes. Hidden away behind a sorrowful gaze that would forever follow Syd. His intense stare would probably follow her until the end of time. Those weren't eyes you so easily forgot.

It was a beautiful day, yes, but she had a hard time appreciating it. There was a jet gliding across the sky. She watched it ease across the pretty blue backdrop, leaving white exhaust behind it.

“Yeah my mom, she has a fever and a fever for you and me isn’t a big deal. But a fever for her…” He grumbled something she couldn't quite make out. Despite their distance, she could still feel the amount of stress he was under. He was her family. Everyone at The Bear was her family and each of them had unique relationships. “So I just decided to hold down the fort and make sure she’s doing all right.”

“Right, right” Syd turned just in time to see Carmy walking out the back door, cigarette in his mouth. Their eyes met briefly making her falter in her words. 

“Still there, Syd?” Marcus asked as a timer buzzed in the distance.

“I am,” She turned away, ignoring the burn in her cheeks. “How about I come by after work and bring you what the fam had today?”

“You the one!” He graciously exclaimed. “I gotta go, but alright just call when you're on the way.”

“Peace.” She shoved her phone into her back pocket and whipped her head to find Carmy already looking at her. Pounding just beneath her ribcage, her heart inflated with anticipation. The hair trailing the nape of her neck stood on end as goosebumps rushed up her arms. Their space remained shrouded in silence. How much time had passed? Seconds to minutes, minutes to who knows. They were rarely one on one these days. It was easier to navigate the sludge they'd gotten themselves into when other people were around to break the tension up. She wanted to leave but her legs remained still. There was something hiding. Something waiting to come out. She just felt it. So she stayed, listening to the industrial sounds of the city. The jet was now long gone, but its roar still hummed quietly beneath it all.

Carm's cigarette smoke floated past her. She quirked an eyebrow at her business partner who huffed while shaking his head. He hands her a cigarette to her which she hesitantly took. Despite not being a smoker. They needed something to break the ice these days and it sucked. In the kitchen, it was like nothing ever happened. Like they never fell in love, like they never broke up, but outside of the kitchen? Forget about it.

“Just got off the phone with my mom.” He ran a hand through his hair making it impossibly messier. "You don't smoke." He deadpanned plucking the cigarette from behind her ear and putting it behind his.

“You seemed bummed, didn't want to make it awkward.” She hesitantly chuckled before quickly looking at her feet. “Must've been heavy, the conversation with your mom. I’ve never known my Carmy to stop prep an hour to open for a smoke break."

“Your Carmy.” He muttered under his breath, hiding it behind a chuckle. "Yeah, well she has that effect on me." He stomped his cigarette out, feeling traces of guilt. Syd was never too shy to tell him exactly how she felt about cigarette smoke. She didn't mind weed though.

"Meat delivery was wrong... again." She mentioned trying to find anything to continue their conversation.

"We gotta find another fucking vendor." He cracked his knuckles, now that his cigarette was gone he needed something else to satisfy his vice.

"We do. But the guys we work with now are reliable." The two shared a look. "Semi-reliable and cheap. So we're stuck with 'em."

Another stretch of uncomfortable silence followed. More avoidant glances. More shuffling.

If only he just said what he wanted, she thought to herself. If only he'd release her by simply saying what he needed to say. She wouldn't (no) she couldn't leave without finding out why those baby blues of his were so downcast so pleading and so, so broken. But Carmy was even more stubborn after their severance, they barely knew each other these days. But this felt huge. It felt big, she could feel it vibrating that invisible cord between them. Disturbing the constant hum they sustained, even after everything.

"What'd your mom say?" She finally let her curiosity win.

There it was. His eyes flashed with something akin to fear and his lips twitched. He fidgeted even more. He was always in motion. Moving, moving, moving. “She asked to meet you y’know?” He rubbed a hand down his mouth, slowly nodding his head. He stared out in front of him, at nothing in particular. But she could see his anxiety beginning to bleed into his irises. She could feel it too and god she'd do anything to make it stop.

“You didn’t tell her?” Her thoughts were interrupted by that revelation. For the first time in a long time, she stepped into his space and caught his gaze. “Carmy it’s been weeks.” She stopped short. "No, months! Like two whole months!"

"Almost two months." He corrected earning him one of Syd's signature eye rolls. “I know, I know.” He sighed trying to drop her big brown eyes but it was proving impossible. Each time he'd find the ground or a spot just past her shoulder their shared magnetism would beg his attention. Forcing him to bare his soul.  “Look, only the crew knows. Richie just got back from vacation and I guess I just never see Sugar enough to mention it."

Carmy was still in denial that he and Syd had reached an end before Richie left. He spent the early days in a dreamlike state, hoping that he'd blink and everything would be back to normal. That he'd wake up and everything wasn't on fire and she'd look at him with the love she used to and not the resentment that now replaced it. Once he came to terms with it, Richie was gone and Sugar was far too busy to stop by, with the fresh addition to the family and all. The staff noticed but they didn't say anything. He wasn't going to say anything either. Tina realized what occurred when she saw their mirrored shame. Eyes avoidant and chemistry nonexistent. The family felt their disconnect as it trickled down to each and every one of them. Ebra was the first to slice the tension one day after closing.

"Tensions heavy." He called from a far corner of the kitchen, after a painful bout of awkward silence. "Trouble in paradise?"

Carmy's eyes met hers as she hesitantly dragged her gaze to him. If they told them it'd make it official. It'd make it real. Fuck him if he didn't want this shit to be the worst nightmare of his life. His throat was dry when she looked around the room. His heart pounded when she clasped her hands together and uttered the revealing truth.

"Me and Carm have decided to keep our relationship strictly professional for the betterment of the business." She sagged her shoulders. "Happy? Now come on let's get it chefs, we all wanna get home right?" She didn't look back at Carmy as she grabbed her cleaning utensils and escaped to the walk-in.

"Chef!" They called behind her. Tina's frown followed Carmy as he entered the walk-in behind Syd.

"Really?" He complained angrily. "Wh-wh-what are you doing? Why are you doing this to me?" His eyes searched hers. "That's how you choose to do it, Syd?"

"How the fuck else were we going to tell them? Sit them down one by one in our office. 'Oh yeah, your bosses aren't fucking each other anymore. Prepare your stations for a walk thru', that's real professional!"

He raised his voice, frustration boiling over. His face was hot with a thin sheen of sweat over it. The cool air of the walk-in did nothing to help. It only made it harder to breathe. Her angry eyes only made his breath shorter.  "Anything but that!" 

She sighed taking note of his erratic breathing. Once upon a time, she was the one that'd calm him down, now she was the source of his worries. How quickly the fucking tides change.

"Look, Carm I'm sorry." She avoided rubbing her closed fist over her chest. It felt wrong now. "I didn't mean for it to be messy, but we've been tiptoeing around each other for weeks they were bound to find out."

She brushed past him exiting their bubble. The eyes of the staff greeted her plunging her back into reality.

"Do you guys want a picture? A straight-to-DVD recording? Or what." She deadpanned before shouting. "Let's go!" She stormed to her station finishing her tasks.

This all happened after Richie left, a few weeks back. It wasn't like Carmy to just go and call up Richie during his time off. Call him for what? To give him the good news? Carmy didn't want to bother him with something so trivial and high school. "I haven't had the time to tell my family about us. Sugar took it upon herself to tell Mom about our first anniversary coming up and now… now she wants to meet you.”

Her eyes narrowed in skepticism.

Okay, so he wasn't being entirely truthful and he's pretty sure she knew it. He intentionally hadn't told anybody. He didn't want to. It'd make it feel too final. He and Syd breaking up just didn't sit right with him and he wasn't sure if it ever would. Sydney, however, didn't have a problem telling whoever. She was taking their breakup like a champ.

She frowned contemplating exactly how they got to this point. It began how any work romance started. Fleeting glances and red cheeks. Accidental touches that soon lingered. One too many hangouts that lasted way too long. One too many drinks led to a passionate and intense hookup. Then the inevitable downfall. Too much time spent with one another. Going to work and seeing each other, going home and seeing each other, seeing the best but the worst in each other. Uneven work distribution eventually began interfering with their personal relationship. They thought they could work through it, that was until it started affecting the workplace and their dynamic. One too many complaints from the staff of a hostile work environment and that was it. One of them just had to stop it. It was Syd who called it quits first, she knew Carmy would drag his feet and draw it out for a lot longer than it needed to be. Carmy didn’t have the energy to beg her to stay but his eyes said it all. She thought they fell back into step. Back to a neutral place, nothing deeper than coworkers. But every now and then they’d catch each other’s eyes or he’d get just a little too close to her and it was all so real again. But they knew better than to go back there. 

“We were together for less than a year-“

“I’ve never been with anybody for a year…” He interjected in a matter-of-fact tone. “Sorry, my family they just, they’re happy that I found someone to put up with me. It's sort of a big deal for them." It would've been a big deal for him too if only they'd actually made it a year. "God they’re gonna have a good laugh when I show up to dinner alone.”

Syd frowned looking back up at the sky. “My point is, I don’t think it should be this hard for us. You know disconnecting from each other….”

“We’re business partners.” He lamented. “We disconnect The Bear fails.”

“This place is never going to fail.” She shakes her head looking back down at him.

“I don't know Syd. Everything I touch...” He looks at her with a familiar echo of fear in his eyes. “Everything I touch fails.”

She watched him crack his knuckles, hands shaky, before walking back inside leaving her with her thoughts.

As promised after closing Syd made her way to her best friends' house with enough food for three.

"From what I've seen, that family is unwell." Marcus lightly jests. "I mean if Mikey is any indicator..." He widens his eyes trying to convey just how hectic the Berzattos were.

"Trust me Marcus I know." She sips her third glass of wine of the night. "I just wish I didn't care so much!"

"Carmy was your best friend once upon a time," He reminded, ignoring her eye roll. "Roll your eyes all you want sis. You two dated for a year, it's normal to still care about him a little bit."

Too bad she cared about him a lot. Maybe too much. "Yes, but enough to be his girlfriend for one more night just so his family doesn't rip into him?"

"I mean," He shrugs. "It seems."

"It'd be a bad idea right?" More semi-expensive wine slid down her throat. "It'd be bonkers to go along with this, especially after the whole ordeal."

She was referring to her 4 weeks of crying on Marcus' couch, in sweats post-break-up. She was always sure to clean up nice and put on a smile when she went to work, but Marcus was there through the worst of it. He'd never seen her look so small, so vulnerable as she did the first few weeks after they called it quits. She'd lay her head in his lap and cry and cry until she fell asleep. When she wasn't crying she was talking about what she could've done, what he could've done. Which led to anger and then to the inevitable crying. She'd spend the mornings before work throwing up, it only just stopped a couple of weeks ago.

"Look, I don't want you going through that again. But you seem to really want to help out Carm and what's one night?" He poured her more red wine. "You're over him right?"

She gulps down her wine instead of answering. Maybe it was the wine but she could feel water gathering in her eyes. The air conditioning blew past her cooling the tears and making them all the more real. She shook her head, annoyed with herself for crying over him, STILL.

"Fuck! I'm sorry." Marcus rushed to her side and pulled her into a hug.

"No, no it's" She laughs through her tears as she wipes the fresh ones away. "It's the wine I promise."

"I'm still sorry for you know asking that." He replied. "Especially this early on."

"It's okay, friend.” She shakes her head and sniffles as she pulls away. "It's been some months, I should be able to talk about our," relationship. "situation without crying like a little bitch."

"I don't think there's a time limit on getting over someone you loved." He replies sincerely ignoring her previous self-dig. "And if you ask me two months isn't enough time to get over anything."

"Almost two months and good thing I didn't ask you." She teased, tugging on her coat. "I gotta dip but thanks for this."

"Do you know what you're gonna do?" He follows her to the door noticing the stumble in her step. “You can stay the night if you want.”

She leans slightly to the left, eyes hooded. Her face crumbled with each passing second, the tough facade tumbling down. “I’ve decided what I’m gonna do.” She drops her shoulders. "Have an extra pair of sweats waiting though."

"Yes, Chef." He salutes weakly as a worried frown grew on his face. Watching her struggle to slip back into her Crocs helped him make up his mind. “Okay buddy you’re sleeping on my couch, come on.” He easily guided her back to the couch.

”Grab the sweats!” She shouts behind Marcus as she laid back on the cushioned surface.  

“When is it?” Her words were hushed but clear. 3 o'clock on the dot had arrived and sleep evaded her still. She tossed and turn until her phone was in her hand and his number was being dialed. It was now or never. There was no way she was going to do this sober.

Of course, he’d pick up, the insomniac. “What?” He held his phone against his shoulder as he stirred his boiling ramen.

“The-the thing." She supplies, although with no explanation her words were useless.

"Syd, I don't-"

"When am I meeting your family, who isn’t Sugar.” She explains. "The dinner."

"Ah, I get it now." He stops what he was doing and turns away from the stove taking his phone into his hand. "You're drunk."

"Okay and?" She scoffs, "Look Carm, I decided that I'll lend you a hand now so later when I need a recommendation you'll help me."

"I'd help you, either way, Chef."

"I bet." She blew a raspberry. "So, when is it, big guy?"

"When is what?" He shot back.

"Carmy" She whines his name the way she used to. It made his heart pound and a smile spread across his face. It made his conscious mind melt away, replacing his thoughts with Syd, Syd, Syd.

It made him feel vulnerable and his voice got all soft and mushy, he'd feel embarrassed if he didn't enjoy how she made him feel so much. So, with a tone only reserved for her, he made her a promise. "Sunday night, 6. I'll swing by yours on the way."

"It's a date!” She says without thinking twice. “Or no it's not a date!"

"Drink some water and get some sleep Syd." He tutted fondly as he silently wondered when the urge to take care of her would go away. "I'll bring you some soup in the morning."

Before she could respond the dial tone interrupted her thoughts. "Asshole." She muttered affectionately before tossing her phone on the coffee table and nodding off to sleep.

True to his word the next morning he handed her a warm Tupperware container filled with his signature hangover soup. They both managed to show up before any of the other staff did. Despite sleeping over at Marcus' she managed to get up by five so she could go home, change, then hustle to The Bear.

“Did you-“

“No, I didn’t.” He shook his head. “Syd come on I know you’re allergic to sesame seeds."

She shrugs chuckling to herself as she uncovered the warm cloudy liquid. The aroma wafted past her reminding her why she trusted Carmy so much with her career trajectory. "We can all be victims of forgetfulness."

"I'd never forget something like that." His words were heavy. Weighted with what they both knew but didn't want to say.

Instead of a day filled with a familiar waltz the ex-lovers shared, their routine was filled with affliction. Damaging the very foundations of what helped the kitchen run so smoothly.

"You two are weird," Richie whispered to Carmy during their cigarette break. "Did uh something happen? You two aren't you know... tweedle dee and tweedle dum-ing it today."

"We uh we-we..." He breathed wanting so desperately to tell him exactly what was going on but he couldn't. The staff obviously hadn't shared the latest gossip with him and Carmy was grateful for the rush that kept them busy for much of the day. After tonight he would but not now. "Just nervous about tonight."

"Listen I already spoke with Donna, it's gonna be small just us. We're only popping open two bottles of wine."

"It's not the wine I'm worried about it's, it's." He pressed the heel of his hand against his eye. Weary of the conversation already. "I never wanted to mix Syd in with that side of the family, of me. What if she sees mom and what she does to me and she-she just leaves" He lets all of the air he'd been holding out. "What if she decides this place isn't worth it" that I'm not worth it "and she leaves for good?"

"Carmy, you're so much of a know-it-all prick I sometimes forget that you have no experience with women." He laughs then took a long drag from his cigarette. As if Carmy's dumbfounded expression alone stressed him out. "What the fuck are you talkin' about?"

"You're not listening cousin-"

"I am. Syd isn't going to up and leave you after meeting your shitty mom- no offense." He redundantly remarks. "If she was gonna leave she would've a long time ago. The girl loves you."

"I don't know...she, we-we arent-" The confession tasted bitter in his throat, the words were on the tip of his tongue when Richie interrupted him.

"She does, every relationship has its rough patch. Some last longer than others." He muttered, blinking away the memory of his once happy family. "She's nervous too according to Sugar."

"Really?" The hopefulness in his voice made Richie scoff at his naive cousin.

"Yeah, Syd's been asking her advice and shit about what she should wear and what Donna's favorite color is. The works."

Carmy exhaled feeling the tightening in his chest decompress. "You sure?" The hopeful lilt in his voice made his cheeks burn, but he couldn't really bring himself to care.

"Yeah kid, really" He blew a raspberry. "God I hope I'm never as gone as the two of you. Just foolish." He muttered the ladder part of his sentence to himself.

“A dress?” He tries not to let his eyes linger on her long legs, the same legs that wrapped around him night after night, but he failed. He noticed her outfit choice when he picked her up, but it took a while for him to muster up the courage to say something about it. 

“I wanted to wear something different.” She tugged at the hem. “Too short? You know I'm not a dress person.”

“No, no” He finally left her legs and met her eyes. “You look perfect.”

“Bear!” His mom swings the door open and pulled him into a hug, tears already kissing her eyes. “You look so handsome, and you combed your hair?” She teased tugging at a strand. She turns to Syd, tears welling up once again. “And look at you.” She holds her hand eyeing her up and down. “Carmy goes on and on about those pretty brown eyes of yours but he did not do them justice.” She pulls Syd into a hug as Carmen darts his eyes around looking for an escape route.

"I brought you flowers." She hands the Berzatto matriarch a purple assortment of flowers.

"Wow," She eyed the bouquet admiring the color. “Oh Bear, she’s,” Donna shakes her head. “She’s gorgeous, your babies are going to be just beautiful” She turned away and entered the bustling house before he could speak. The soft sounds of Frank Sinatra drifted past their ears as the door swayed behind her.

“Sorry,” He quietly winces. 

"Don't apologize," Syd hesitantly intertwines her fingers with his. "That's what any mom would say to her son and his girlfriend, remember?" She raised an eyebrow.

Carmy let a shaky breath go, gently wiggling his fingers in an attempt to calm his nerves. "Right, I just. I think I need a second outside."

Syd frowned before tugging the door closed and turning towards her counterpart. Her hands rested on his sweater-clad shoulders, forcing him to direct his full attention to her.

"Carm, just relax. It's just a dinner, we can leave whenever you want." She frowned when he shook his head, eyes blinking rapidly.

"M-my family, my mom. Everything is fucked... you-you see what happened with-" He couldn't say Mikey's name right now. It'd break him and he wasn't going to cry in front of Syd. She probably already thinks so lowly of him, after everything he put her through. He still felt indebted to her. "And I just don't want you mixed up in that."

"Well, good news! I'm black and I like to mind my business so we're golden. Now let's go inside, it's getting chilly." Carmy surprised himself with laughter making Syd crack a prideful smile. She grabbed his hand once more finding it a lot less shaky.

The dining room table was grand, littered with masterfully prepared dishes. The gift of cooking obviously ran in the family. Each of them took their place at the table. Syd's eyes trailed the room, beginning at the head of the table and moving counterclockwise. There was Donna who was on her third glass of whiskey followed by Sugar. Sugar's eyes were worried as she looked at her husband, Peter, who held their new addition in his lap. Next to Peter was Carmy who hadn't looked up from his plate yet. At the end directly across from Donna sat Sydney. She was a natural against the brut energy Donna gave off. Across from Carmy sat Richie who was going on and on about some MMA fight, his mouth filled with pasta. Sydney commented on it twice in disgust. Following Richie was Fak who wasn't invited but heard about the dinner and just decided to show up with some girl who seemed to mirror his energy.

Things continued smoothly as time lazily dragged behind them. The much-awaited grand finale usually took place during dessert. Donna was soon to amass their attention. Carmy braced himself as they all dug into their desserts. A nervous glance was shared between him and Natalie.

The lack of conversation could be heard. Silence in the Berzatto house was always so, so loud. The Berzattos were not quiet people, even Sydney knew nothing good lay ahead.

"So Sydney!" Donna began fondly, now beginning to consume her seventh glass of alcohol. She'd begun mixing brown and white two cups ago. "I want to know more about you, who is Chef Sydney the girl who stole our Bear's heart, and put up with him for a whole year!"

She could feel the shift in Carmy's energy, which naturally threw hers off but she quickly recovered.

"I'm from here, erm Chicago. And I've loved cooking since I can remember." She gives the blond woman a tight-lipped grin.

"Short, sweet, and to the point!" Donna chuckled, loudly. It went on for a second too long. "You gotta tell me, what's your secret for dealing with a basketcase like Carmy Berzatto? Because I tell you.."

An awkward silence descended down the table until it reached Sydney, who brushed it off easily. She glanced at Carmy, his eyes avoided hers as discontentment filled them. Upon closer inspection, she could see anger beginning to turn his face red. "Actually, it's been pretty easy." They matched eyes before she confidently turned to Donna. "He's an amazing person. He's attentive and caring he always takes time to listen and he's a big softie beneath all of that... machismo" She teased. lightly. "I've never worked with a chef so dedicated. So gifted-"

"Gifted?" Donna quirked a brow, almost mockingly.

"He cooks like... like nothing I've ever seen before, well 'tasted' before. I don't think he's ever made a bad dish in his life. It's what made me fall in love with him." His smile was small but present. It was reserved, only for her to see.

'You mean that?' He just barely tilted his chin.

'I've got you.' She gently nods once.

“Our big successful chef.” Donna interrupted their silent discussion. Sydney turned to her as her smile morphed into an unwelcoming snarl. Where fondness slept envy roared alive. “Too big to come and say hi to his mama bear.” Her fork clanked against her plate. The sound was reminiscent of swords being drawn, ready to head into battle.

”Hey, Donna could you tell me the tiramisu recipe?” Richie attempted to steer her attention away. "It's good as hell! Fak pass me the dish-"

”Ask bear!” She grinned at him. “It’s Mikey’s recipe the one he came up with alongside Carm!”

The table sat still, each head hesitantly turning towards Carmy. Richie found the table while Sugar attentively examined Donna. Peter examined Sugar, their babbling baby in his arms blissfully unaware of the building tensions. Sydney didn’t know why but Carmy looked so small. Not like himself. Her hand reached for his under the table, his touch made her shiver. Slowly, she pulled his hand to rest in her lap, cupped within hers. She placed her other hand above his cocooning his hand in her warmth and protection.

He sighed deeply as he looked into Sydney’s encouraging brown eyes. He remained looking at her as he spoke. “Mikey loved using half heavy cream half coconut cream. We figured it out one day when we didn’t have enough heavy cream," He finally gathered the strength to face his mother. "It came out perfect and we never changed.” Appreciative sounds filtered around the table.

“Oh, Carm.” Donna's laugh grew until it drowned out the room's quiet chattering. Her laugh dangerously teetered towards the sound of crying. The longer it went on the more Syd questioned if she was actually laughing or crying. Donna's hair covered her face and her hands trembled as she vibrated with sarcastic joy. “You are so special!” She clasped her hands together sending an echo around the room. “So special that you missed your own brother's funeral!” Her throat churned out louder and louder gurgling laughter until she fell into a coughing fit.

"Here Mom let's drink some water." Sugar handed her the cup of water Donna refused to touch all night.

"I don't need water!" The liquid splashed Natalie's legs as it fell to the ground under Donna's hand. "Go be useful and start the dishes!" She waved her hand behind her, not bothering to spare Sugar a passing glance.

Carmy exited the table, escaping from the world he so desperately wanted to leave. Donna was none the wiser, the alcohol content in her blood had exceeded normal levels and only her words were important in this moment. Each face surrounding the table was shadowed by the light of her vigor. Her stage was set and she was not going to let the moment pass without earning a standing ovation. Sydney turned to Sugar who darted her eyes in the direction Carmy went, silently telling her to follow. Which she did.

He sat on the steps of the house face buried in his hands. Without looking up he stuttered out. "P-please just leave, you shouldn't" He shook his head looking out at the street in front of him. "I never wanted you involved with this part of my life. Now you see why."

"Carmy." She slowly squeezed next to him, gently grasping his shaking hands almost instantly stilling them. "You are not your mother." She ducked her head catching his red eyes. His lashes were wet and his face flushed. "You're you, you're one of the best chefs at the best restaurant in Chicago if you ask me."

That earned her a chuckle, which she enjoyed. Warmth radiated through her chest when he grinned at her, despite his tears.

"How do you always know what to say?" He knocked her knee with his.

"Because, Chef, you're my Executive Chef I'm supposed to know you inside and out."

That seemed to sober him up and dry his tears. He'd forgotten that they weren't where they used to be. Not at all. Still, the words she used to effectively end their ten-month relationship replayed in his mind when he'd sit alone with his thoughts for too long.

"I think we just need to set some boundaries."

"Boundaries?" He repeated incredulously, tilting his head. "What do you even mean by that Syd?"

"We can't be together and run The Bear together, it's not working."

"Syd, you sound-"

"I sound what Carmen?" She narrowed her eyes challenging him.

"Afraid." He replied honestly. "You're just afraid, but that's okay because I am too." His hands wrapped around hers, pulling her closer to him with a gentle tug. Brown and blue watched each other, their noses brushed. His lips ghosted across hers and they tingled at the feeling. She was feet away from him when he blinked again, pulled from the haze they often created when in close proximity to one another.

"I'll clean out my drawer tonight." She left out the door before he could argue. He watched her go. That was all he could do. She left him, his lover, his soulmate, the one thing he thought he'd gotten right... she left him.

"Earth to Carmy." She snapped her fingers pulling back his focus. "Dude you gotta stop staring at me like that." She teased but he saw her throat move alongside a nervous gulp.

"Sorry, I just..." He shrugged. "I'm just happy that you're in my life still after" He waved his hand. "After everything. You're the only sure thing I have."

These were the times Sydney felt her defenses were down. That all of the hard work she put in to get over him was simply a farce. A mask she wore to avoid the deep-cutting pain that their separation left her with. He just had to look at her, sick those intense eyes on her and she was suspended in his delicate grasp. He was saying so much. Professing his love, apologizing for whatever, begging her to come back. She felt it all, she read it all just from a simple gaze. She hadn't realized her eyes had fallen closed until his nose brushed up against hers, and her lungs sucked air in begging for the burning to stop. She could feel gentle bursts of air tickling her glossy lips and he'd begun to feel a hint of stickiness rubbing against his.

"Carmen!" Donna burst through the door ruining what they'd just created. The rest of the dinner table was in tow. Their faces were worried, they'd obviously been trying to talk her out of going outside. But Donna was a Berzatto and you didn't tell a Berzatto what to do. "I just came to apologize." She stumbled forward as Carmy stood to his feet to catch her. "I ruin everything." She sniffled, mascara-dyed tears trailing her face. "I'm sorry Sydney." She turned to the stunned girl, nearing her to pull her into a hug but Carmy grasped his mothers' arm pulling her back.

"Let's go to bed ma." He began leading her back inside without another word.

Syd watched them go, feeling pangs of sadness in her chest as Carmy and Richie helped her to bed.

"Claire said she was sober the last time she came to dinner." Fak's friend, Kelly, whispered her statement to Fak but Sydney heard. Sugar knew that Sydney heard because her eyes widened along with hers.

"Wait, Claire? As in Carmy's ex-whatever?" Syd questioned as her brow twitched, the warmth that spread across her face was due to something other than nervousness now.

"I feel like I said something I shouldn't 've." Kelly's eyes widened as they bounced between each of them. She awkwardly cleared her throat before slowly turning away and walking back to the dining room.

"Hold on, come back-" Sydney started to follow her but Natalie stopped her.

"A few weeks back Carmy brought Claire to dinner," She informed her before quickly adding, "He said it was innocent and they just randomly ran into each other."

She shouldn't care. She really shouldn't. They weren't together anymore and this was all fake. He had his own life and he was obviously living it. She had her own life and she had to start living it sooner or later. It's her fault for thinking highly of a man with deep-seated mommy issues anyway.

"It's fine." She pressed her lips together in a thin line. If Sugar was Carmy she'd be poking and prodding her for additional information. She'd see right through her mystique and ask what the fuck was up. But Sugar was not Carmy, she accepted Syd's answer and went back to the dining room.

The man of the hour walked back in, his face drained of energy. Richie patted his back before leaving for the living room. She wanted to be angry at him, but fuck he still held the key to her heart and he refused to return it. The fucker.

"Let'g go." He said just above a whisper and they went.

The car ride was quiet, aside from Carmy's outdated radio that played early 2000s pop through static. It wasn't until he pulled up to her house that the silence was sliced open. 

"Okay, what is it?" He shifted gears and turned to her.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She crossed her arms. He kept secrets she could keep secrets too.

"Sydney..." He huffed. "Please, just tell me, it's been a long day."

"Fak's friend said that Claire was at dinner with you and your family a few weeks ago?"

He paused pursing his lips. "Yeah, we uh ran into each other and-and she's a family friend so" He shrugged.

"Right, right" Sydney slowly nodded, her patience was running thinner by the second. "So, just a silly question!"

Carmy braced preparing himself. "What's up?"

"Why didn't you just bring her to dinner? I could've fucked off and spent my night with someone else. With Marcus or-"

"Marcus?" He cut her off. "What is it, are you two together or something? I've noticed how close you two have gotten." He challenged. "Funnily enough it was right after you left me."

"That's none of your business Carm!" She rolled her eyes, deciding to not dignify his accusation with a response. "I'm just saying, next time bother her with your odd jobs. I'm sure she's great at jobs!"

“Look nobody twisted your arm, okay?” He ignored her crude joke, voice raising only slightly. But in the tight space of his car, the smallest inflection made all the difference. He knows better than to raise his voice at her. “You willingly came."

“You might as well have twisted my arm! You put on that forlorn face. The one that makes you look like a wounded puppy-“

“Nice” He scoffs. “Really nice. Look just go, get out of my car.” He reached across her and opened the door. Her perfume clogged his nose and all he could do was think about how angry the smell made him. How she took it away and dangled it above him day in and day out. How she didn't even leave so much as a t-shirt with her lingering scent. One he could press against his face and inhale on the nights he missed her the most. He couldn't stop thinking about how someone else was enjoying her scent instead of him. How someone else got to see her more than him and listen to her ramble on and on about cooking and anything else that popped into her head. He couldn't help but feel bitter, it should be him.

“Yeah, whatever” She slams his door and rushes towards her apartment. On days like these, she wished her dad was behind the door waiting for her with his comforting smile. Ready to soothe whatever ill feelings she was experiencing. But when she unlocked her door she was met with darkness and silence. She was alone.

She’d just taken her shoes off and thrown her purse on the kitchen island when she felt a shift in energy. The air was thick and a creek sounded from the front of the apartment. He sighed heavily, it emanated from the cracks in the door. He knocks softly as if he didn’t want her to hear.

She stared at the partition, internally debating on what she should do. Perhaps if she stood as still as a statue, he’d surmise she was in the shower or didn’t hear him and leave.

“Come on Syd I know you’re there.” His thick accent made his words stick together.

“Weirdo.” She muttered sauntering to the door and swinging it open. Ugh, there goes those eyes again. 

“I heard that” He brushed past her and into the dimly lit apartment. “Look, I-“ He shakes his head, placing a closed fist over his chest. They hadn’t done it in a while. It felt way too intimate after their breakup. But drastic times called for drastic measures. He must've known how easily that'd make her turn to mush. “I’m sorry. Sorry I yelled and guilted you into coming to dinner and for being shitty in the car-“

“Woah woah woah slow down Carm” She meets him further in her home, clicking on a soft light. The golden glow created a halo above his head. “You call that yelling? I’ve endured much worse from you.”

“Unfucking believable! “ He throws his hands in defeat. “Can’t you just be quiet for like 10 seconds while I apologize? “

“Oh, this is an apology“ She points to nothing in particular. “It's great Carm, keep going!” He released a heavy sigh through his nose. Her brown eyes reflected the light and softened her hard gaze. Her deep skin glistened under the low lighting making her appear enchanted. Like something out of a Renaissance painting.

“God, you’re insufferable and stubborn." How could someone so breathtaking get under his skin like this?

She ignored the clarifying beauty he naturally possessed, nothing was going to distract her from what she needed to say. “You’re neurotic and have anger issues! Maybe take a therapist to dinner next time.“

“I wish I never fucking hired you!” He yells.

“I regret ever walking into that shithole!” She fires back.

He breathes taking in the gravity of her words. “So, that’s really how you feel?”

She ignores his inquiry because no she doesn’t feel that way. She counts the day she walked into The Beef as one of the best things that ever happened to her. But he didn’t need to know that. “Look I was waiting for the right time to tell you but," She takes a deep breath, preparing herself. "I’m leaving.”

“What? The Bear?” He felt like he’d just been gut-punched “I don't understand. You can’t leave?”

“I’m leaving, Carmen.” She stands her ground, on trembling legs, but she still stood her ground.

He blinked a few times feeling tremors of anxiety climbing his arms. “W-when?”

“Next month.” Her voice cracked. "I was offered a great position in LA and I'm staging there soon. Look, I've been scouting CDC's and I found a reliable one. He's hard-working and... Carm?"

He hadn't realized he was shaking until she gently touched his forearm. He jumped away as if her touch burned him. Their uneven breathing filled the room with sound. The distant sounds of cicadas screamed outside and the air conditioning clicked on before she decided to continue speaking. “Carm say something?”

“You can’t leave.” He repeats which made Sydney rolls her eyes. 

“I thought once upon a time that I’d never leave. That you… that we’d have The Bear as our baby forever but,” She blinks back tears, she’d die before he’d get to see her cry. “Things change and people change. Plus you just said you wish you never hired me."

“So this is it?” He mutters giving her those pleading eyes again. “That’s just it for us?”

“Yeah,” She slowly nods, brushing her hand over his. No matter what went on between them they seemed to have a force between them. Pulling them closer and closer without either realizing it. "This is it, I'll be out of your hair in a month.

“This can’t be it, Chef,” He says mere inches from her face. His eyes trail to her lips that sat waiting for him. “Look, I-I need you.” She could only gulp feeling the intensity of the situation set in. After their breakup things were sore for a while but they had lives to live. They never had a chance to double back, to have one last hoorah before lights out. "Sydney. I thank god every day that you walked into The Beef and accepted that position. I don't want you out of my hair."

“You don’t need me-“

“I do need you.”

"The Bear was always yours."

"It's ours. I can't imagine sharing it- this, with anybody else. Sydney." He slightly shook his head. "Don't do this, baby."

Maybe it’d undo all of the work they put into trying to hate each other. Trying to forget about the other's touch or the feeling of their lips on each other. But they could no longer deny what they wanted to do so badly. His hands still felt right around her, pulling her closer. His lips still fit perfectly against hers. She still loved to jump up into his muscular arms and wrap her legs around him. He preened at the feeling of her back in his arms like this, kissing him like nothing ever happened. She sunk into the soft foam of her bed as he laid her back and proceeded to climb over her. His mouth hovered over hers, hesitantly he opened his eyes in an effort to read her. The girl who stole his heart (and one day his last name) was still so hard to read. But at this moment she was open her eyes were honest. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. Carnally. His yearning was near animalistic at this point. Not being able to kiss her and taste her for seven and a half weeks was making him go crazy, but here she was. His fix, waiting for him to make the next move.

"Syd, I...I don't want this to be just sex." He confessed. "I want you back. I'll do anything, I'll change anything. Just please, don't leave me." Her brown eyes flashed with something he couldn't put his finger on but her smile made his heart flutter. Her hand was soft as it gently ran over his ear and neck, despite the burns and cuts she endured over the years. He recalled her once saying shea butter kept her hands soft. She always smelled of it and this time was no different.

"Let's just enjoy this, yeah?" She leaned up kissing him as her arms pulled him against her body. His mind yelled at him to stop talking and enjoy the moment, but how could he if she was just going to walk right out of his life after?

They touched and kissed and rubbed against each other until Syd found herself on top of him. Her heat pressed against the stiffness that pressed against his jeans. Her sounds were intoxicating when his hands gripped her hips and controlled the speed of her gyrations. Over and over again she ground against him chasing sweet pleasure. He could stay like this forever. They both knew that. He never came in his boxers until she walked into his life and sat in his lap. She pulled away, desire in her eyes as she worked to open his jeans.

"Boles de Picolat." She says as her warm hand wrapped around him and began moving up and down.

"Fuck" He groaned. "Are you seriously thinking about the menu, now?" He panted already seeing spots. He hadn't had sex or even masturbated after their breakup, so he was embarrassingly close to coming from less than ten strokes of her hand.

She slinked down his body and made him curse god as her warm mouth sucked him in. His eyes rolled when his leaking tip pressed against the back of her throat. Her velvety smooth mouth swallowed him down as her throat gagged from the spurts of come dripping out of him. "Sorrysorrysorry" He wasn't sorry. His hips twitched as she continued worshiping him, he was still hard and ready to feel her all over.

"I didn't want to forget." She giggled innocently, his dick still twitching in her hand which made Carmy feel all types of hot. He gently grabbed her hand and pulled her back to him so he could kiss her. He tasted the saltiness of his release lingering on her tongue, but he didn't mind. "Also don't apologize. The point is to come." She yelped when he rolled them over. His shirt was the first to go followed by her cardigan. Her dress came off as he leaned back down to kiss that adorable smile off of her face.

"How many?" He questioned as he kissed down her body. He could smell her arousal mixing with the mango and vanilla of her perfume. He kissed her clothed valley, feeling just how turned on she was through the lacey fabric.

"How many what?" She questioned.

"How many times do you think I can make you come?" He used his finger to push her panties aside so he can finally taste her. He moaned like a little bitch when her tangy cream melted on his tongue.

She whimpered, trying her hardest to keep her legs open but it was becoming harder with each pass of his tongue. Her thighs were pressing against his ears, vibrating in no time.

Like the ocean kissing the shore, he rolled his tongue over her swollen bud relishing in the high pitch sounds mewling from her mouth. He loved her like this. She walked around The Bear like she was the toughest thing out of Chicago. Never taking time to relax and rest. But Carmy knew just how to sedate her. He knew how to turn her brain to mush so she had no choice but to relax under him. He hadn't realized he'd forgotten to remove his rings until his fingers were knuckles deep inside of her, but by the volume of her moans, she didn't mind. She constricted his fingers as he pressed over and over against that sweet spot within her. He pulled back to observe at her pulsating entrance mesmerized at the beauty of her body. God why the fuck was he jealous of his own fingers. Her hips jerked and her cunt pulsated rapidly as her first orgasm washed over her.

She didn't have time to fully recover. When she blinked he was lining himself up at her entrance, his red, leaking tip rubbing her over throbbing clit.

"Carmy,-" She began, tone unreadable. As it usually was. She was always so worried. He cut her off by shoving his fingers soiled with her pleasure into her mouth. She deserved to experience how good she tasted.

"Sh, just enjoy it." He slowly pressed into her loving the dazed look that overtook her face. She nodded obeying his command as he began gaining pace. He removed his fingers when she moaned filthily head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Fuckfuckfuck" She breathed already feeling another orgasm climbing her body. His pace accelerated pulling her leg a bit higher on his hip so he could fuck her through her second orgasm.

"That's it" He encouraged against the shell of her ear. "Let go, love." His groan matched hers as she squeezed him, writhing through another orgasm. Her moans were growing louder and louder as he continued fucking into her at the same pace. Her thighs were touching her belly now as his hands held her legs up. A simple glance down at his hands commanding her body made her sensitive rose throb with pleasure. "Again, already?" He couldn't help but chuckle.

"Fuck you-" Her words were cut off when he adjusted his angle and found some hidden button that made her words slur into unintelligible stuttering. He grinned watching her let go again, this time pushing him closer to the edge.

"You're so beautiful" He panted feeling his orgasm creep up his body. "You're my beautiful- fuck- my beautiful girl, all mine." He let an embarrassing noise echo through the room as he released long white stripes inside of her. She met his thrusts wanting to draw his orgasm out as long as possible. His throat was raw as he gulped down air trying to regain his composure but tremors of his release were still running through his body like an electrical current.

Later that evening they lay beside one another in her bed. She rested against his chest and he inhaled the sweet smell of her hair feeling his heart burst. Then something hit him.

"Earlier you started saying something but I stopped you," He could hear the tiredness in his voice. "What were you going to say?"

She hummed drawing a circle on his chest with her finger. He kissed her forehead. Since he'd gotten her back in his arms he couldn't stop adorning her face with kisses. "That I uh...I was just gonna say, I love you."

He figured. It still freaked him out how well they knew each other. "I love you too."

[insipid-drivel]

Ahoi, horse question -

I knew most facts on your list but it’s a fun read, thanks for that.

I also knew that horses can overeat themselves to death but I always wondered:

What’s different with wild horses, how do they regulate themselves? And didn’t they occasionally eat bad plants and mushrooms, too, that poisoned them?

Wild horses can and do poison themselves by eating toxic plants, it's just that herds of wild horses are remarkably rare to see EVER, so the whole "toxic plants in reach of horses" discourse is almost entirely limited to domestic settings. Tansy, especially, is a poisonous herb that can appear to blend into other safe grasses and herbs a horse may eat, and the horse will eventually die of colic (intestinal spasms that cause the horse's GI tract to literally tie itself in knots, cut off bloodflow, and result in an agonizing death; it's one of the most common causes of premature death in horses). That's why responsible owners pay out the nose to have their paddocks ID'd and and cleared of any toxic plants the horse may accidentally graze on. Most experienced horse/ranch owners practically qualify for an honorary botany degree, because the best owners learn how to identify most - if not all - of the toxic plants their horses may encounter in their area, and keep their horses far away from them until/unless the plants can be removed.

With many wild horses you may see in photos, those are the ones that made it to adulthood. Horses are prey animals, and so wild horses you see in film or pictures - even babies - may not have survived to the publication of the picture you're looking at. As prey animals, only the strong and lucky survive to old age without human intervention on some level to improve their mortality rates. Foals are just as vulnerable to predation as baby deer, and usually can't survive if they're injured or sick in any way that keeps them from keeping up with their herd. The herd usually follows the dominant mating stallion, who typically decides when it's time for the herd to move (unless the mares decide he's not worth listening to, which happens sometimes). There aren't really that many places in the world where you'll see truly wild horses, so most people don't think of them as prey animals that are as vulnerable to environmental dangers as any other prey animal.

It's well to remember, too, that pretty much all true-blue, wild horses today are the descendants of domestic horses to some degree. In the American West, wild herds of Mustangs were captured by the US Army and westward-bound settlers in the 18th and 19th centuries so voraciously that wild mustang populations pretty much went entirely extinct (Spirit: Stallion of the Cimarron is very much taking place during the final years Spirit will ever know freedom as a wild animal. A few years later, the horses will end up broken and domesticated by soldiers if they aren't tamed and separated by other humans, and there will be no more mustang herds to see on the western frontiers for well over a century).

All horses are thought to descend from the OG horse, the Przewalski's Horse, aka Those Cave-Painting Horses:

The very first true horses to ever appear were initially native to what is now steppes and grasslands in Mongolia and Russia - so basically Central Asia. It's theorized that, thousands of years ago, these horses gradually migrated into North America via the Bering Land Bridge that once joined North America to what is now Russia, and evolved and were domesticated into now what we recognize as the American Mustang:

American Mustangs don't bear a very clear resemblance to their Przewalski ancestors due to thousands of years of domestication, separation from their original species, and selective breeding practices by humans.

Both the Przewalksi's Horse and American Mustangs have recently been on the rise thanks largely to conservation methods when it comes to wild populations of them. The Przewalski's Horse was so rare that it was functionally extinct in the wild in the 1960s, with the only significant populations of surviving horses being kept in zoos and wildlife conservatories. Now, the horses have made such a big comeback that some of the first wild herds have been released back into their home environment in Central Asia.

The main difference is in how the horses are treated by their human protectors, or if they have humans looking after them at all. Domestic horses that are raised privately and kept essentially as very expensive pets spend their entire lives having humans providing them with most, if not all, of their required resources and care, so they don't typically get the same experience with food that they would in the wild. Herds of wild horses can have roaming territories of hundreds, if not thousands, of hectares and be comprised of a dozen or more individual horses, while most domestic "pet" horses are usually limited to much tighter pastures that only span a couple of acres, maybe in the double or triple digits if there's money-money involved, but the horses still largely have their dietary needs and daily routines decided for them by their owners - not natural instinct and rearing by other horses.

A horse really can't get everything it needs nutritionally or behaviorally in a paddock-and-stable setup without humans to feed and look after them, because they don't have a huge range of places they were evolved to travel between to sustain their health; horses, like other ungulates, need vital minerals like those found in natural salt deposits to maintain their health, and the soil in your horse's paddock may be so nutritionally deprived that the grass your horse grazes on doesn't actually contain enough nutrition for the horse to survive without supplementation to their food. They also need more than grass to be nutritionally stable; horses will seek out and eat fruits, veggies, grains, herbs, and especially love molasses and other forms of sugar for their sky-high amounts of carbohydrates (and because they taste good). But they don't know how to properly regulate what they eat when presented with an unlimited supply without a human to handle the portion control side of things, so it's easy for them to overeat to the point that it kills them.

Wild horses are born and raised feeding and taking care of themselves and each other in highly maternal, matriarchal communities (mostly females of reproductive age and their babies with only one or two adult breeding males; the stallions are usually the ones that lead the herd, but the mares really have the final say). Aside from eating something they didn't know was toxic, wild horses learn from their peers and elders when it comes to where they can find the best food and when, and rely heavily upon their understanding of their territory/range when it comes to knowing where and what they should eat to stay healthy. They also have to share resources with other horses in their herd, and don't get access to huge 200lb barrels of oats or 150lb bales of pure feeding hay, so they usually don't find opportunities like domestic horses do to find Enormous Stores Of Unprotected Food and make themselves sick.

Horses have a muscle at the top of their stomachs referred to as a French Tie. It literally makes it physically impossible for a horse to throw up, even if they've eaten something bad or overeaten and would stand a better chance at surviving if they could spit up what they ate. Being grazing animals with long necks, they can't have the internal structure to throw up with, because otherwise they would never be able to get their food or water from their mouths to their stomachs. Gravity would prevent them from being able to eat without constantly raising their heads up to gulp down food like an alligator with a chicken drumstick (seriously, try taking a drink of water while you're dangling upside down; that's why NOT being able to regurgitate is more valuable for horses), which is not what grass-eating animals want to do: grass and plant life is very hard to digest efficiently, horses only have one stomach compared to other ungulates like cows, and horses and similar grazing animals spend so much time chewing on their food in order to make it easier to digest and draw nutrition from that it generally makes their food intake pretty steady for their digestive systems to cope with.

Domestic horses that live their lives in paddocks and barns know where things like the grain store/feed room are, and don't really understand why we stingy humans will only give them a scoop or two of oats as a treat and not give them as much as they want 24/7. Their instincts almost always are to graze, graze, graze, so what's wrong with going face-down in a barrel full of oats? It's just tasty food!

Except we know that overeating means they can't puke up what they don't need or can't digest the way your dog can if they managed to rip open your 50lb bag of cat food while you were away at work. They don't know better, and there's no way to teach a horse NOT to eat when food is right in front of their noses, so farm-horses essentially have their entire diets managed for them to keep them safe and healthy, while wild horses just don't have access to that sheer quantity of unguarded food to overeat at all under typical circumstances.

[imtrashraccoon]

Chapter 3 is posted!

Be aware that there are instances of sleep paralysis and implied intent to harm, although no one is actually physically injured. (This would probably be classified as battery or assault at the very least.)

Anyways, I drew some more art for some of the flora in this chapter! I recommend reading it first but if you just want to see pretty art, that's fine too.

Nodding Herb:

- This plant grows a large yellow blossom that spans 6 inches in diameter despite its white stem reaching a height of 10 inches. The plant becomes very top heavy from seeds until it "nods" and becomes weighed down, especially in the wind. Thus spreading its seeds and as a result, these plants tend to grow in large patches.

- The pale seeds are commonly ground up and added to foods because of their peppery flavour. They promote good digestion and eating a lot of them is said to help with gaining a deeper sleep. It is more of an old wives tale than anything but many insist it works.

- It isn't uncommon to see at least one in a pot in someone's house so that the cook can collect some seeds to add to a meal. Harvesting portions of the seeds encourages the plant to grow more and if it is done consistently, you can keep it in a constant cycle of producing for several months.

Trailing Ink Plant:

- This plant has thick brown stalks that reach about 12 inches in height and end in a head that grows pale white leaves that reach 4 inches in length.

- The sap is commonly used as ink and is toxic if ingested. You'll likely have stomach pain and nausea depending how much you ingest. The pale leaves are edible but have to be cooked to nullify the toxicity. When mature, it produces a pollen from the leaves that relies on the wind to spread.

Black Fern:

- This plant grows large fronds that are black and propagate through spores. It grows about 1 to 2 feet tall and some can get even larger in the right conditions.

- While it is primarily seen as an ornamental plant, the young shoots are considered quite a delicacy in the Spring and are commonly eaten with a few other greens to celebrate the return of warmer weather. They are slightly bitter but go well with game meat.

- It is commonly found in most temperate regions but is often placed in gardens as a nice accent piece to let other colours pop. Because it can get almost bushy, it is also used as a small border to separate different types of flowers from each other.

These are only half of the plants that have been featured in the story but I wanted to post the chapter rather than wait until I had drawn the others. They'll be coming soon, possibly when Chapter 4 is out, but I haven't decided just yet! I love designing these things so much!

[cyanogen-miasma]

Hollow Knight X Warrior Cats Crossover???

as a former warrior cats kid, the urge always remains to see if you can turn a piece of media into Warrior Cats, so

let's say, Hallownest is now horizontal instead of vertical. It is bordered on all sides by mountains, except for Kingdom's edge, which is bordered by a massive Thunderpath. I'll make a map of what all the lands in Hollow Knight would look like in this case. Hallownest (the land, not the political entity) would be called Hallowed Vale.

The Higher Beings are split into a variety of different circumstances.

The Radiance was a Clan Leader who created a cult of personality around her. She was killed and spends most of the story as a StarClan ghost.

The Pale King and the White Lady are both immortal beings a la Rock

Unn, or Slugstar as I would like to call her, is a Clan Leader

The Nightmare's Heart is a Dark Forest ghost

idk what to do with the Shade Lord

I'm not dead certain on names, really, but I think the Pale King would call himself Whitestar for the cats.

The Pale King's kingdom is PaleClan.

The moths were RadiantClan, but were absorbed into PaleClan. Now none of the Radiant lineage remains apart from the Seer.

Mantis Village is WasteClan. They are probably the only 'Clan' here that fully operates how a warrior cats Clan should right now. They had an alliance with PaleClan to defend against...

Deepest is now DeepClan. The cats of DeepClan are alive, but infected. The Weavers were a travelling group of cats who cultivated spiders and could make textiles with spider silk. They were welcomed by DeepClan, and stayed with them for many years, but left when the infection started to spread to DeepClan.

The Mushroom Clan are... I guess MushroomClan lol. I thought of FungalClan, but MushroomClan does the job just fine. They were absorbed into PaleClan, but retain a degree of separation. They have their own camp, but ultimately answered to WhiteStar. They are alive but infected.

The Mosskin are GreenClan. They have independence, but were forced by WhiteStar to allow PaleClan warriors to pass through their territory freely along the main path (Pilgrims' Way). Later, PaleClan seized half of their territory (the Queen's Gardens) in lieu of Slugstar's (Unn's) weakness. They are alive, but infected.

The Hive is HiveClan. They refused PaleClan's rule and isolated themselves from the rest of the Clans. They are alive but infected.

The Colosseum of Fools was EdgeClan. They used to be a fully functional clan, but their leader (Lord Fool) died with no deputy and everything descended into chaos. Now it is a deadly arena where all kinds of creatures are brought in to face off against Warriors. Most long-term residents are uninfected, but some visitors are infected. The arena is an empty, dilapidated warehouse by the side of the Thunderpath.

Dirtmouth is DirtClan, who lived in the wasteland north of Hallowed Vale. Warriors of DirtClan kept being enticed into PaleClan, leaving the only one left the elderly leader (Elderbug). He has stayed in place to help passing travellers who want to enter the Vale.

Unsure if I want to make the Flukes into a post-PaleClan warrior Clan, or just a pack of rats...rabbit warren perhaps? That would be fitting considering Flukemarm...

The Dream Realm is StarClan, and the Nightmare Realm is the Dark Forest, naturally.

I think the Void is just the Void, and the actual story of the Hollow Knight is not changed much.... I'm not sure how the Vessels would come to be considering cats can't lay eggs. Perhaps the White Lady eats a herb tainted with water from the Abyss Lake, which Whitestar believes would poison the kits and cause them to be 'empty'....perhaps 'void' is a toxic substance found in the Abyss Lake, which was caused by pollution. Perhaps all the Twolegs left because they couldn't figure out a way to deal with it. Perhaps the toxin twisted the cats' spirits and connected them to the emptiness that greets them after their Second Death.

Perhaps Whitestar, unable to kill the Radiance a second time, tries to trap her inside the 'second death void' of one of his 'empty' children - The Hollow Warrior??? The Dreamers, of course, serving the same purpose they did in Hollow Knight.

EDIT: I forgot the Radiance kind of had a thing with the Void which would require her not to be just a normal leader. She can be a deity of StarClan if she likes. So the Pale King can't kill her but can banish her. Perhaps the Ancient Civilization (VoidClan, if you must) made their home around the Abyss Lake, and because of their proximity to the void toxin they ceased to exist after death. This made the Radiance mad because that meant less spirits in StarClan for her to lord over. Then, perhaps this caused her to seek out worship in mortals, which led to the founding of RadiantClan.