#and sometimes she still resents it all!!!!!

[sepublic]

I really love how Pomni looks back at Ragatha when making her decision to let Gummigoo go. It pays off the earlier scene where Ragatha resents Pomni ditching her and the others for Gummigoo, even after the prior episode where Pomni admitted she didn’t give enough appreciation towards Ragatha’s efforts in being a friend.

It’s basically Pomni realizing she’s spending too much time chasing someone who no longer exists, instead of appreciating someone who’s still there for her right now, who needs her too (and as we see isn’t about to gain any new friends herself), while Gummigoo is fine with his new existence and no longer grappling with that existential realization. Ignorance is sometimes bliss, and with how rattled he’s been, it’s better for all three this way.

Between supporting Gangle and helping Kinger be himself again, I dig Pomni being the disruptor/inciting incident, given the series begins with her arrival, who grants these other characters what they need and gets the story (which in this case is the characters’ development) moving. So here’s hoping we see more in the next episode, which is confirmed to be Ragatha-focused!

[corvus-frugilegus]

The real tragedy of the Dellamortes is how inevitable Illario's betrayal was.

Caterina's refusal to really see either of her grandsons for who they are sets all three of them on this path. Lucanis's mother was Caterina's favourite, she was probably the person Caterina had in mind to succeed her. That loss, the loss of so much of Caterina's legacy had to have been devastating. She'd built so much and it was all torn away in a single conflict. All she has left in the wake of it is two young boys and this tenacity that will not allow her to give up on what she's built.

So she puts it all on Lucanis. The son of her favourite (bonus angst if he looks like his mother). She's unable to see this sweet boy who loves wyverns and just had his life ripped apart for who he is. She just see's her legacy. The daughter she lost. She puts it all into him, he's pushed into the role of favourite.

Lucanis responds to this by shoving down the parts of himself she doesn't want to see- his gentle heart, his love of wyverns, the little boy who needs to be loved. If he's good enough, strong enough, the perfect crow, the perfect granson- then and only then will she love him, will he be safe.

And then you have Illario! There isn't as much to go on in the text about his family or what he was like as a boy but there's a few things we can pretty confidently infer. Like Lucanis, Illario violently loses everything he has at a very young age. All he has left are the other two Dellamorte's.

But he isn't the child of Caterina's favourite. She isn't automatically putting all of her legacy on his shoulders the way she does Lucanis. He still gets the training, and what we do see in the wigmaker job and the wake and even in the codex entires in the game is that Illario does become a comptent and capable crow. He has a level of skill that I suspect is broadly expected of house Dellamorte, he was trained by the first talon herself. But the Illario we meet as an adult has this laissez-faire affect and presents himself as a seducer and a bit of a peakcock. He also very overtly refers to himself as Dellamorte-the-lesser and at the end of the wigmaker job when they're discussing the title of first talon you can feel the resentment below the surface.

For Illario it's not about the power and the prestige that comes from the title of first talon. It's not even about having the title itself. It's about FINALLY earning Caterina's love and respect. Things he undoubtly never felt as a boy.

How could he? When he's a child the only two people he has left in the world have this special bond that he never gets to be a part of. His only caretaker has a clear favourite and she shows it. He's lived his whole life in Lucanis's shadow, and a shadow that Lucanis never wanted to cast! Which if anything just adds insult to injury for Illario.

Lucanis has everything Illario wants and he doesn't even want it.

I imagine as a boy Illario tries SO HARD to win her love, her favour, he'll do anything to feel like he's loved and wanted and valued. And when after YEARS it doesn't work even though Lucanis clearly doesn't want the role he's been forced into? Illario gets resentful, he gets angry, he starts acting up. He becomes the suave peacock, the grandson who fucks up sometimes- probably not because he's bad at being a crow but because at least Caterina's ire is attention. It's a scrap of love.

Illario and Lucanis love each other. They're brothers. Illario resents Lucanis for being loved and favoured. Lucanis wants nothing more than to give it all to Illario. Illario doesn't want that he wants Caterina to love him on his own merit. At the same time (pre-inner demons) Lucanis will never actually give the title up because it means he's loved, he's valued, he matters.

The title of first talon has been synonymous with emotional safety and love for these two for their entire lives, and it's twisted them up so badly.

The real irony of it all is that this whole time Illario is so much more like the person Caterina wants Lucanis to be. Her heir, the Dellamorte best suited to be the next first talon has been right there infront of her all along, but she's so caught up in grief and legacy she misses it. She never really see's either of her grandsons for who they are.

I actually suspect that when it all comes to light, even though she's furious with him, Caterina finally starts to see what she's been overlooking in Illario all along. And Lucanis who's started to heal... well I think she's starting to see him too, and the truth of who he is is something she'll struggle to face.

When the day finally comes that Lucanis tells her he doesn't want the job, when him and Illario both accept that their lives have meaning outside of Caterina's opinion of them, is the day that the Dellamorte's can maybe start to really see each other.

[irndad]

Christmas Wrapping- a.h.

a/n: i'm back and this is sad (no, really, it's a sad christmas fic. merry crisis!! also writing this made me think of @hotchfiles lol- lari i hope u like it <3 summary: 2 years ago, hotch broke up with a lovely but eccentric woman, and is thinking about this while attending a christmas party.

It’s Christmas, and it’s New York, and Aaron doesn’t want to be here. 

He always feels guilty when he misses Christmases with Jack, and it’s painful to admit that it’s happened more than once. He’d been understanding, but Jack is almost ten now, and the resentment in his voice is subtle, but sometimes Aaron could swear he could hear Haley’s voice in it. 

This dinner wasn’t optional- a director that was above him mentioned that if he wanted his career to advance, he couldn’t afford not to attend events like tonight. Which as far as thiny veiled threats go, is one of the lease concealed ones he’s received in a good bit. 

New York always makes him think of her. Even though their relationship ended two years prior, she sticks in his mind like a song, the melody never quite getting to be grating. She’d loved being called his girlfriend, and Aaron had loved the way she loved it. She was younger than him, by a little over a half-decade. But still, she’d worn it better than he had. He still remembers the sight of her, meeting him at his office (never inside, lest the team tease him endlessly), in her green shoes and multicolored scarf, hair in a clip that had been lazily thrown up, and a smile that dazzled him. 

“Are you ready, Mr. Hotchner?” he remembers her saying, on the other side of a memory lit in warm, glowy lights. 

“I don’t think I can endorse whatever you have planned for me.” He’d replied back in jest at the time. 

The walk from his hotel to the host of the party’s home is cold. He think it might be colder in Quantico, but his memory feels colder and seeps into his bones. 

He might’ve married her, Aaron muses to himself. It all feels so silly to think about. But she was hard not to think about when she was his to ponder over, and she sticks in the back of his mind even after he had made he decision not to. 

She’d been generous with him, the entirety of it all. Gentle with him when he mentioned that he wasn’t ready to tell the team, even if she’d known that he hadn’t waited eight months with Beth. More than that, she was beautiful. not just in her appearance, which was lovely in and of itself, but in how she carried herself. Warm, and kind- Jack would’ve loved her. 

He thinks of her laugh, how she’d picked off all of the salmon roe on their fancy 5 month anniversary dinner, and eaten the meal without it- how she booked Amtraks to visit family, because it gave her more time to read on the way, and no one would make her drive once she got there. How she traced hearts into his wrist when  she could tell he was anxious, read him like a book he never gave anyone permission to see. Loving her was a pleasure, an indulgment. An expensive wine sipped with leisure. 

A honk of a cab shakes him out of his memories, but it doesn’t stick. She’d loved Brooklyn, loud cabs and overpriced brownstones all the same. Sometimes, when doing monotonous paperwork, he’d fantasize about buying her one, a new home in her dream city, Jack and maybe a sister. 

The way it had fallen apart was one of the least proud moments of his life. Because she was different- not polished, or withdrawn in how she carried herself. It was what made her a pleasure to know- she smiled with her whole face, hugged people like she knew they might need it, wore her favorite colors because she wanted to see them whenever she passed a mirror. And he was a behavior analyst. 

“Could I meet your friends?” he’d frozen, when he’d heard it. Her voice was soft, like she was nervous. “I know you were wanting to wait, but you know- you’ve met my graduate school friends. They were thoroughly impressed.”

He didn’t feel impressive to them, and he suspects she might be being kind in this moment. 

“I just think you wouldn’t like them, honey.” He feels rotten lying to her, but the idea of it- of the team knowing that she is the person he loves- it feels like a magnifying glass under the sun. 

“I find that hard to believe, Aaron. And either way, I’m telling you, it would mean the world to me to know them.” 

He’d been backed into a corner, he’ll tell himself, later. This will be a lie, and it’ll be a lie he knows, even as he tells himself it. 

“I just think we shouldn’t do that until we’re sure about eachother.”

The silence that had followed felt chasms wide. She’d been silent in front of him before- when he’d come to her apartment too tired to speak but still needing to be held, and she’d lit a candle and massaged his hands, easing the carpal tunnel from writing paperwork. Or when she held his hand waiting for Jack’s results, when he’d gotten a fever they hadn’t been able to shake. This silence was different. Long and dissapointed, and Aaron felt like he couldn’t breathe under the shame of it. He watched her wipe a single tear from her eye, and grab her novel that had been sitting on his coffee table for the last six months. 

“I can’t make you sure about me, Aaron. I don’t really want to try.” 

It had ended like that. Reminiscing on the whole affair had made the walk feel short, although he could feel a tear welling in his eyes. His body knew her absence, and still does. Even now, walking to this party he doesn’t want to go to, he imagines what it would be like to have the shape of her pressed into the side of it. 

Aaron thinks to himself, before buzzing into the building, that he wasn’t ashamed of her. He’d wondered since the end of the first relationship he’d felt held in, if he left it because he was ashamed. But he wasn’t. He was unwilling to submit to the plain, unmediated joy of her touch. 

He was almost done ruminating on this, until he knocked on the door, and there she was. 

Aaron- he almost wonders if he’s hallucinating, because there she is. And she’s fucking gorgeous. She always is, but she’s so lovely tonight. Maybe it’s the fact he hasn’t seen her in so long, or maybe it’s just that she is that lovely, but the warm light of the party and Christmas Wrapping playing in the background- she looks like vision plucked from a movie. 

She’d kissed him at midnight to this song, once. 

Now, she’s beaming at him, opening her door to welcome him as a stranger into a party. 

“Aaron! Is that you?” it’s a physiological response, the jump in his chest, when she says his name. “My god, it’s so good to see your face!” 

She hugs him, and she still wears the same perfume. Her arms are warm and her face is in his chest, and even though it’s less intimate than all the ways she’s held him before, it feels kind. 

“It’s so good to see you too- what are you doing here?”

It’s a blunt question, but she doesn’t seem to mind, as she ushers him into home. It’s a family apartment, old-school and clearly well-loved.

“My husband liasons with the FBI, actually! His boss said they needed a get-together space, and so we offered up our apartment. It’s cute, right?” she’d walked him right up to a man, wrapped her arms around his middle, before turning back to Hotch. “Peter, honey, this is my old friend, Aaron Hotchner! He works for the BAU.”

Husband. She has a husband. She is a beautiful woman, who he has had the honor to love, to run through the rain while laughing with, who is known and seen and loved by someone else. Hotch takes a look at her, really drinks in the sight. She’s got on a green sweater, new- he can tell by the shape of it. Earrings that seem like they’re gifts, and her hair’s pinned up lazily despite the occasion. 

She looks happy. 

“Oh hey! I’ve heard so much about you- I’m glad you were able to come!”

Peter has a wedding band on hsi left wrist, and Aaron can’t help but analyze him. He’s wearing an ill-fitting dress shirt and slacks, and Hotch thinks he might not have had too much choice in hosting. Owning real-estate is uncommon in New york, and your boss knowing you have a place to use might have been enough to strong arm him into using it. it’s a relative’s clothes, and it’s casual in a way that would suggest ease and friendless. An arm rests on the small of his wife’s waist. 

The whole rest of the night is a blur. Jealousy doesn’t feel like the right word for it- it feels uncanny, to see her so open and warm with a man who so unashamadly loves her. There’s engagement photos on the walls, and Aaron studies them like he’ll be tested. Maybe he’s testing himself. They’re not real photos, just a photobooth they’d gone too, her ring in the foreground of all of them. Peter is a wiry, thin, dark-haired brown-eyed man who is younger than Aaron, and a year older than her. 

He hears someone say they met in high school, and Hotch dimly wonders if he ever had a shot with her. He thinks this, while looking at a photo of the two of them at prom together (but not together). It’s self-comfort, he knows. Because she’d asked him, to take her seriously. 

She’s drinking grape juice, instead of champagne. Aaron thinks he knows why, from the way she runs a gentle hand over her stomach when she thinks no one’s looking, and how Peter’s eyes are always trained on her midsection.

He wishes he didn’t know how to be this observant. 

When the night ends, and Aaron comes back to Quantico, and people asks him how the party went, Aaron tells them it went well, and says that he saw an old friend who he’d missed a great deal out there. 

He figured it’s probably better to admit to loving her in some way, at some point. Even if it’s far, far too late. 

[tigersharkapologist]

Septimius Geta and Septimius Caracalla Headcanons

headcanons for these dorks because if I dont put this out there I’ll explode, also some au things in here⊹ ࣪ ˖

TW: mentions of child abuse and murder 𓃦

Geta 𓃭

- oh the angst on this one

- He grew up very insecure about his complexion, namely his hair. Not many in Rome were born ginger. He’d get compared to the barbaric tribes they were taking over.

- A lot of the elders would whisper about he and his brother being a bad omen from the gods.

“The last time we had an emporer who bore a fire branded mane, Rome was burning while a fiddle played.”.. they would say..

- He and his brother heard the stories of such evil rulers as bed time stories told by their mother, Julia.

- It was tradition for every heir to the throne to hear these in hopes that it would scare them into growing, well, not evil.

- Yeah this just gave them nightmares, caracalla frequently sought his brother for solace, wailing that one of the “vile ones” (past not so great sadistic emperors) was under his bed.

- Geta’s favorite snack is Enkhytoi!

- He and his brother would frequently raid the Head Chef’s kitchen for the sweet pastries.

- They were seldom caught in action, but you could always tell it was them due to the lingering scent of honey and the obvious crumbs on their faces.

- Geta did not care for roughhousing, but he LOVED exploring the outskirts of Rome when Pater and Mamma werent looking.

- He would, of course, bring Caracalla with him on these little adventures, but he usually had to be the cautious one since Caracalla would frequently stray too close to something dangerous.

- Speaking of Pater, they would frequently avoid their father, Emperor Septimius, to the best of their ability. He was scary, mean, and had a temper that would rival mars’ if the twins so much as looked weak.

- Geta was frequently name called “Maculosus” by his peers, as it wasn’t uncommon for him to be riddled with bruises on his arms and chest.

- These bruises are large, not made by tiny fists. It was very clear to those that saw his bruises that they weren’t made by his twin.

- The earliest these marks appeared on Geta and his twin were the age of 9.

- The Praetorian saw these bruises, time after time without fail. They did not like it. Not one bit.

- Anyway! Geta and Caracalla were uneducated in arts, sciences and mathematics. Very strange for up and coming rulers. Mamma and Pater were very neglectful in this aspect (as well as many others).

- Geta and Caracalla grew up longing and seeking for relationships that would fill their mommy issues specifically. (you can see why none of them worked out). They both use indulgence as a way to cope.

- His favorite animals are lions, all big cats (known to Roman knowledge), really.

- He has a “pet” lion named Mel. Mel is an undefeated champion in the Colosseum. He’s constantly pampered and overfed. Kinda chunky but that’s how Geta likes him. Sometimes, when Caracalla allows it, Mel gets to sleep in their room.

- Geta was a peanut allergy kid but grew out of it.

Caracalla 𓃸

- oh the angst on THIS one.

- favorite animals are monkeys and apes. Hence, Dondas.

- neurodivergent

- Dondas was given to Caracalla at the age of 15 and has stuck with Caracalla his whole life.

- Dondas is a comfort creature for Caracalla. She can tell when Caracalla is entering or is in one of his episodes and her presence alone is enough to comfort her hurting owner.

- Caracalla feels immensely guilty and angry towards Geta for his sacrifices. Geta, almost every time their Pater entered one of his rampages, took the hits meant for him (this is canon so not really a headcanon but still)

- Caracalla feels like he owes Geta something and he hates it. Many times he wishes it was him that took the blows, not Geta.

- Due to the pressures of the time, being protected in such a way instead of receiving the strikes himself made him feel “less manly” and weaker than his brother. He came to resent Geta instead of their abusive father.

- if I didn’t list stockholm syndrome before—the stockholm syndrome on this one somebody help him

- To protect himself, Caracalla’s mind has completely forgot all of his childhood (except the beatings and the—albeit rare—good times. This led him associating the good times with the beatings, that they must have done something bad to deserve “discipline”. That their Pater was very loving and cared for them deeply. )

- He developed syphilis at the age of 18 and dimentia two years later.

- He started suffering from lead poisoning at the age of 22.

- He has frequent visits with the medicus and healers. They tended to feel like family the more he went. They genuinely cared about his wellbeing, how strange. This was nice.

- His favorite food is anything from the sea. Snapper, grouper, flounder, if it swims it’s fair game. He also loves shellfish! He has had every type Rome could offer,, except for shrimp, which he has an allergy to. He will refuse to eat anything raw, however. Not for safety precautions—he couldn’t care less—it’s just gross to him.

- Yes, he shares his seafood with Dondas.

- Caracalla takes very good care of his hair! He spends 30 minutes every day preening it. Unfortunately, his efforts are to no avail when it comes to bed heads. He wakes up? Every effort wasted. But at least his bed head is fluffy and not at all crusty. Think highland cow.

- Another insecurity? Acne. He’s extremely insecure about it and hates the way it looks and feels. It hurts sometimes.

- He’s had acne his whole adult life, it just won’t go away.

- Back to his hair, like Geta, he’s insecure about its color. Even when many women have insisted that they thought it was gorgeous, with its red and gold hues, he still didn’t feel any better about it.

- Caracalla and his brother like to wear extravagant and expensive clothing to distract from the hair. They often wear their laurels for the same purpose (also they just think it looks awesome—it does).

- On a side note, Caracalla and Geta are terrified of the Praetorian. Yes, their very sworn protectors that are here only to serve them. The guard does a pretty good job, and the twin emperors have used them when necessary (for example when they almost got shot by a stray arrow)! But they both just cant shake the feeling that the Praetorian have it out for them (they do not). Though they would never admit it, the two see themselves as some of the worst emperors Rome has seen (the worst they’ve done is spend millions in tax payer money to fund for their Golden Parties and daily extravaganzas, not to forget the gladiator fights), and the Praetorian are notorious for taking out such emperors.

- They’re literally not that bad, there have been LEAGUES worse than them.

- Caracalla often has staring contests with random Praetorians to like? assert dominance I guess? A sort of “hey!! Im not afraid of you!! yes I am someone hold me.” The guards dont get scared by it they just get immensely concerned and confused as to why one of their emperors is death staring them into oblivion. It actually freaks them out so I guess the staring works.?

- As you can see the two have major paranoia issues.

- He commissioned a local carpenter to make Dondas a mini palace. Yes, he paid with tax money 💀

- He wishes he could spend more time with Geta. He’s usually out partying and indulging, but Medicus’ orders have put a restriction on him recently.

- He has night terrors often, one specific night terror involved him slitting his brother’s neck with the help of a certain Macrinus. (STOP LET ME HAVE THIS IT WAS JUST A DREAM CARACALLA KILLED GETA IN A DREAM THERE IS NO SEVERED HEAD SHUT UP SHUT UP Cries Sobs Vomits Throws Up Pees My Pants)

- Caracalla wants a mom

- Caracalla can sing very well! It’s a talent that very few know of—even his brother doesn’t know

- Impatient with himself and others

- Was accused of being the murderer of his father (he is not and actually heard his father’s dying cries at the age of 16, he was a floor above the murder. He was heavily affected by said murder. Geta was not.)

- Deep fear of dogs and anything resembling canidae features. He tried to order the removal of any and all Capitoline Wolf statues but was denied due to it being an integral part of Roman culture.

- The two above are related

[negotiumcrucis]

Yusuf closes the door with a heavy sigh.

The kitchen is dark and quiet, and the stove is cold to the touch. He puts down the parcels he carried all the way from the market, lights the oil lamp and hangs it over the worktable. He does not venture into the adjacent room. There’s no need for that. He knows Nicolò is not home, and he buries the uneasiness it all entails deep inside his chest.

It would not be the first time Yusuf had to dine alone since the winds had turned too strong and too cold, forcing many galleys to stay in port. The taverns are packed full and so is La Sacra Infermeria, where Nicolò has built quite a reputation for himself in the past months. Still, it is Christmas Eve and when Yusuf woke up in the morning, he found a note in Nicolò’s handwriting asking him to bring home meat – rabbit, if he could not find rooster. He could not.

Joe needed to add some finishing touches in the Oratory to get the Conventual Church ready for midnight mass and it was the thought of Nicolò’s cooking that had kept Yusuf company as he worked all day long. The focus demanded by the job made it a bit easier for Yusuf to refuse the food offered by the brothers, though he did not manage to dissuade his fellow workers from shoving a cup of wine in his hands at the end of the day. It was light Sicilian wine, very cheap, sour, sold from the cask, and it had upset Yusuf’s empty stomach as he gulped it all down.

He thought he would feel guilty about downing the wine after, but he did not. The Ramadan had started two weeks before, but the truth was, he had not fasted every single day thence, nor did he sneak out to pray five times a day with the Muslim slaves out in the harbour, but he did watch them bowing towards Mecca as he walked home at the sunset. Nicolò never asked, never judged. His heart understood Yusuf as Yusuf sometimes did not understand himself.

Yusuf lights the logs inside the stove and coaxes the flames into life. He washes his hands and his face, shivering at the contact of the icy water against his naked jaw. Not for the first time, Yusuf wonders if it was truly necessary to shave off his beard. Its absence did not bother him that much during the summer months, but since the weather became wet and chilly, he dearly misses that extra layer of protection.

Nicolò has mourned the loss of Yusuf’s beard since the very start. He made no attempt to disguise his resentment, but in the end, they both agreed it would be easier for Yusuf to pose as an artist from Messina if he did not have a beard. Yusuf could easily replicate a proper Sicilian accent and of course, he knew every single Christian prayer in the world.

He called himself Joseph then. Sometimes, when the brothers were out of earshot, one of his less pious co-workers would jest that, while Yusuf was busy painting fluffy wings, an angel was probably paying his Virgin Mary a visit. It was easy to laugh at the blasphemous joke, and it made all the hard work a tad lighter. Yusuf took everything in stride, yet he could not help thinking about Nicolò, who was definitely far from a virgin – though sometimes he could blush like one, especially the times Yusuf kissed and licked him between his legs, his coarse stubble turning Nicolò’s pale skin red.

The thought of Nicolò naked and squirming under him brings some heat to Yusuf’s lower belly, but it’s not enough to chase away the cold from his bones. That coldness, Yusuf knows, has less to do with the weather and more with the emptiness in his soul, something that only grew since Quỳnh was taken. They did not have time to deal with that emptiness for decades when they searched for her in every port, from the North Sea to the coast of Africa and around the Mediterranean.

They would have continued searching for her forever if it had not been for Andromache, who sneaked out one night, leaving behind nothing but a note telling them she had to do this alone for a while. Nicolò wanted to follow their remaining sister no matter what and followed her they did. They were two steps behind Andromache for almost three years until they ended up stranded in Melita during a storm.

The islands have been under the Knights Hospitaller’s rule for half a century then, teeming with people from all over the Mediterranean. Yusuf reasoned that if there was a sailor left alive who knew anything about a witch locked in an iron coffin and thrown into the sea, they would eventually sail their way into the Grand Harbour. So far, none did, but they have lost Andromache’s track, so they decided to keep themselves busy, nursing the wounds in their hearts as they tried to do some good.

Yusuf had grown used to going without his daily prayers during their search. They were in constant move, and every new lead that led them nowhere chipped off a piece of his faith. He promised himself he would do better when they found Quỳnh, and it felt like a bargain he had little to offer in return. Then when became if and eventually, his despair festered into a wound that he felt bleeding under his skin.

More than once, Yusuf woke up feeling as if he was drowning in that very blood, with the taste of salt and rust on his tongue where he had sunk his teeth into. And maybe, if he could multiply that feeling by a thousand, maybe he would be able to grasp a fraction of what Quỳnh was feeling. More than once, Yusuf found himself praying, but it felt hollow – as if no one was listening. Eventually, Yusuf stopped, and at night he buried his face into Nicolò’s neck, weeping in silence as he realised maybe he should pray for his sister to die instead.

If it was Nicolò in her place, what would Yusuf do? How would he even live?

A shiver runs through his body as those thoughts run amok, and Yusuf stokes the flames in the stove with more force than necessary. Nicolò is on his way. Nicolò is coming home. He left a note in the morning, they made plans to spend the night together. No one has found out about them, no one has overheard them making love in the dead of the night, no one has seen either of them heal too fast from a too-deep cut. No one is coming for them. They will be fine.

Yusuf closes his eyes for a moment, calming his heart. He takes a deep breath and picks up a knife to cut the rabbit meat into smaller pieces. He does the same with carrots, onions, and garlic.

The work in the kitchen distracts him from his daunting thoughts, from his fear. In a way, it’s similar to painting. Once you get the sketch done and it’s only a matter of covering layers, you need to focus on your task, your mind does not get to wander too far, otherwise, your work will be ruined. So Yusuf focuses on the menial tasks at hand and he does not think about Nicolò and his whereabouts. He cooks and he waits.

The stew is bubbling by the time Yusuf overhears the door open behind him. He stirs the pot over the stove once before turning to look at his heart. Nicolò’s face is pink from the cold, and he smiles brightly when their eyes meet. Nicolò only takes the time to remove his shoes before he eagerly bridges the space between them, pressing their foreheads together. As Yusuf feels their breathing mingle, he thinks, there is nothing more sacred than this.

“My heart,” Yusuf whispers, kissing Nicolò’s cheek and then his lips. He tastes the cold wind in them, and he wonders if Nicolò can taste the sourness of the wine in his. “You had me worried.”

Nicolò’s eyes soften, and he kisses Yusuf back with intent, before hoovering over his shoulder to inspect the stew. There’s a pained look on his face and Yusuf knows he’s feeling guilty.

“It’s no matter,” Yusuf says sincerely. “It’s not often I get to make you Christmas dinner.”

Keep reading

A little old something I wrote for the holidays <3

[sstardow]

A Study of the Arcane [Arcane Hogwarts AU] Chapter 1

This is Chapter 1. Please read Chapter 0 if you haven't for TW's and information on the story.

This story is targeted at YA, Please do not read it unless you are at least 16+.

TW: Mentions and Descriptions of death.

IMPORTANT: This is an Arcane Hogwarts University AU where Students are sent their letters at 18 instead of 11. So the Students are all young adults and the same/similar age they were in the show.

(Multi Pov)

Vi stepped off the Hogwarts Express with a leap. Following behind her was Ekko, This would be Vi's 4th year at Hogwarts, and Ekko's 1st year. They knew each other as kids, Vi and Ekko, so she was thrilled when she found out he had received a letter too. Vi made sure to show Ekko around Diagon Alley before they boarded the train. She even lent him one of her robes from her first year to wear. 

Vi got her letter to Hogwarts soon after she got into some trouble with the Law back in the Zaun 5 years ago. She decided to attend Hogwarts, partially as a way to pardon herself for the remainder of her time in Stillwater, and also as a distraction from the pain of losing Powder. Vi had figured it would be easier to find her sister while attending a university, rather than being stuck in a prison.  

Vi wasn't very surprised when she got her letter to Hogwarts. Vander told her that their mom was a witch too. Vi always knew about magic since Vander, Her Mother, and Silco were all professors at the University back in the day. Now the only one left from them was Silco. Vi resented him for that. She knew that Silco had a part in Vander's death, she just had no proof it was him.

It happened close to when Vi was arrested. She was 15, Powder was 12. Vander had gotten a call that the School was threatened. Some dark witches and wizards wanted to get to the Headmaster, god knows why, and Vander wasn't going to let what happened to Mom happen to anyone else. He told Powder to stay home and brought Vi along to help get any bystanders to safety. 

Vander was in the forbidden forest looking for the mages, and Vi stood behind him in case he needed backup or someone to run and get more help. Silco told Vander that there were only three mages in the forest. So they brought five professors, and Vander and Silco were two of them. 

But Silco had lied, the dark mages ended up being more powerful, and a bigger group than they were told. Vi couldn't even quite recall how many there were, she counted 8 of them before giving up. And the mages were ready for them too, it was like an ambush.

After seeing this, Vander and the others were quickly outmatched. But against their odds, they were about to win the fight. Until Powder showed up with one of her "magic inventions" Which was really just her putting her uncontrolled magic into a toy and letting it explode. Well, this concentrated magic was a little more fueled than usual. Powder was scared for Vander and Vi, she wanted to help the best way she could. The only way she knew how, so she did. 

Powder always had an affinity for the arcane. But she couldn't control it, ever. She was so powerful for a kid, and because of that, she was dangerous too. Vander tried to teach her how to control it, But he didn't have enough time to.

Back in the battle, with the Professors bloody, but almost victorious. Powder released one of her "Magic bombs" at the group of dark mages. But the explosion was too powerful. It killed the mages, quickly. And most of the trees within a 50ft radius came crashing down. Vander got hit by the blast, as well as two other professors with him. Vi couldn't get the sight of Vander's bloody body under that fallen tree out of her mind for years. She still sees it in her nightmares sometimes.

And Powder never could forget it either. Nor could she forget the feel of Vi's slap to her face, and the words Vi said to her afterwards. "You're a Jinx!" were the words Jinx heard In her head every time she looked in the mirror. 

After they couldn't save Vander, Vi ran away, the night fell quiet and her sobs could be heard the whole time he was running out of that forest. The other professor who wasn't Silco began to bring Vander's body back to be buried. But Silco couldn't help but stare at the little blue-haired girl crying into her hands. Silco met Powder and Vi a few times before, back before him and Vander had that awful fight.

Silco noticed Powder looked just like her mother.

Limping over to the child, Silco offered her a handkerchief from his coat pocket. Ignoring it, Powder jumped toward him, and held on. Silco was knocked to the ground, as Powder held on to him sobbing into his coat, he wrapped his arms around the girl. "Your sister left you. Do you want to find her?" Silco asked as he held her. "She is not my sister." Powder said between sobs.

Vi regretted her words to Powder, regretted hitting her, she regretted every single moment of that night. Vi went back to look for Powder in the forest, but she never found her. A day after the events, the ministry found Vi, they took her in for questioning about the Dark Mages. But Vi couldn't offer them any worthwhile information. Vi's descent into rebellion was quick, acting out whenever she could. She broke many laws trying to find information on Powders whereabouts. Spells, threats, throwing punches, you name it. She ended up in prison fast. Then Heimerdingers letter arrived, Vi had an escape, so she took it.

Silco kept Jinxes whereabouts secret from Vi. He respected her wishes of never wanting to see her sister. But eventually the time came for Jinx to get older and attend Hogwarts. Silco was hesitant, but Jinx was insistent. He knew he could never control her anyways.

And so, unknown to Vi and Ekko, on the other side of the train, Jinx steps out with her black robes adorned. She was unsorted, being as it was her first year too. She would soon find out what house she'd be in. She had an inkling it would be Slytherin, that's what Silco had told her anyway. 

Vi was clueless that Jinx would also be attending Hogwarts, but Jinx knew Vi would be here. Jinx always thought that she would be mad or never want to see her sister again after what happened in their childhood, but she wasn't. She actually wanted to see Vi again, even if a part of her also wanted to scream at her. 

Silco was worried at first when Jinx said she would attend Hogwarts, but he was never one to tell Jinx no. Being the head of Slytherin house, he was confident he would be able to protect Jinx from any threats, whether they be emotional or physical. And he knew that Hogwarts would be the best place to unlock her highest potential.

Nearby at another exit from the train were Jayce Talis, Viktor, and Caitlyn Kiramman. They all wore their blue robes proudly as they walked towards their guide. "Need some help Viktor?" Jayce asked watching Viktor descend the train steps with his cane. "I've got it, like always," Viktor said, now off the steps. Caitlyn stifled a laugh at Jayce's worry, before speaking. "Jayce, What classes did you say you were taking again this year?" She asked. "Students, please follow me to the banquet hall!" A teacher interrupted. Jayce shot her a look that said "Tell you in a bit."

"First Years, come with me!" Another teacher yelled on a different side of the platform. Jinx walked that way, pulling the cloak above her hair. The night was chilly, and she eyed the boats they were about to ride over on. The academy looked huge in the distance, Jinx couldn't help but feel some excitement about attending. She remembered Vanders stories of her mom's time here. It used to make her so happy when he'd share those stories. But now thinking about them just made her angry, or sad, usually both.

As Jinx boarded one of the First Year boats, the water swayed beneath, rocking it side-to-side. Jinx held her breath. She'd never been on a boat before, and the feeling was uncomfortable. There were around four kids in each boat. She didn't know anyone from the first years, nor did she care to learn. 

Vi gave Ekko a nudge in the direction of the boats before heading toward the guide for the older students. She noticed the group beginning to walk toward Hogwarts and had to sprint to catch up. She raised her head to try and catch a glimpse of where the teacher was, and while doing so failed to see the blue-haired lady she was about to go barreling into. Briefly catching herself from tumbling full-force, Vi made a surprised sound as she bumped into Caitlyn. Caitlyn yelped in surprise back, turning around to see Vi, Caitlyn shot her a disapproving look. "There is no need to run around like a maniac," Caitlyn said, eyes drifting down to Vi's unraveling red and yellow tie. "Gryffindor." She added. Vi's eyebrows scrunched. "Sorry, Ravenclaw," Vi responded with more sarcasm than actual remorse. 

Ekko was led to a boat that had 3 other students in it. The night made it hard to see anything around him. The only light to illuminate the students, boat, and water was the moon, as well as a single lantern hanging from the front of each boat. The first years were chatting amongst one another. Ekko took his seat next to a student who had their cloak up which covered most of their head, he didn't blame them, as it was quite cold. He was the last first year to arrive, the teacher took attendance before sending the boats off toward the university. Ekko guessed the boats must be enchanted, cause they steered themselves on their own. As Ekko sat on the boat's seat, he looked around at the dark waters surrounding him. The water looked a lot cleaner here than it did back in Zaun. He inhaled the chilly air, it smelled like a lake, with the scent of algae and pine trees around. But a scent next to him reminded him of the Undercity, gunpowder.

Ekko turned his head to examine the student next to him better. Maybe they were from the Undercity and he knew them. Against the moonlight and lantern's warm hue, he saw a flash of pale skin and blue hair. A pit began to form in his stomach. It couldn't be her. right? "Jinx?!" Ekko asked, voice sounding alert. The chatter on the boat stopped for a moment as they all looked at Ekko. The cloaked student lowered their cloak down to their neck and looked at Ekko. "If it isn't the boy savior." Jinx teased, voice low. "What are you doing here?" Ekko asked. The phrase came out a little harsher than he intended, and he felt a twinge of guilt after seeing Jinx wince in response. "I could ask you the same... thing." Jinx dragged, the corners of her mouth tilting upward at the end. "I- I'm sorry I didn't mean it like that. It's just, we had no idea where you were. Vi has been a mess since you left back then and-" Jinx cut Ekko off with a wave. "Vi's been a mess?" She laughed. "I'm surprised she remembers me at all." Jinx lied. She wasn't surprised. And hearing Ekko say Vi is a mess... Well, that made her secretly feel happy. "We've missed you, Jinx. Why did you run for so long?" Ekko asked. Jinx inched closer to him before speaking. "At least someone has my name right now. and don't be dumb, Ekko." Jinx responded, tilting her head. "You know the reason I ran. We all do..." Jinx said glumly. "Silco and Vander," Ekko said. Realization dawning. he always knew, they all did. But they hoped that if they could find a way to forgive, then maybe Jinx could too. But she thought of things differently. 

The boats docked next to the university, and the students began to stand. "Students, please follow me to the banquet hall!" A teacher yelled. Jinx stood up but Ekko reached out for her arm. Jinx returned his touch with a warning glare, and he let go. 

[fumifooms]

Marcille and Chilchuck are that fucking bicorn chapter sandwich where it has sweet syrup mixed into it and Chilchuck starts out like "ewww -mocks it-" but then at the end of the chapter he tries it and he’s surprised that he likes the taste. He just had to try!! He’s been so closed off and passing up on so many friendships because of it out of fear!!! But then he triessss and he opens up and it’s gooood sobbingggg optimism and pessimism are like a surprisingly good sweet and sour sandwich marchil is like a surprisingly complementary sweet and sour sandwich I’m fine…………….

I think the timeline not being mentioned through the story makes it easy to miss that he and his wife haven’t spoken in 4 years since she left and see that’s one itsy bitsy detail Marcille didn’t get while she theorized, it went that far. Imagine your wife leaving you and you start out not reaching out to her because you have a petty cold shoulder resentment, but then you start being actually worried and by then you’re scared to reach out, but she’s still dear to you, and just like that waiting and waiting and waiting four years pass. Without a single word. Get him the clown shoes The universe gave him an idealist persistent coworker obsessed with his life for the express purpose of getting him to consider reaching out to her and open up his heart to hope again it’s great

Quoting a buddy, sometimes it feels like there’s no point in trying to do things because the results may be unfavorable, but you miss out on a lot if you keep to yourself so much. There’s a real social anxiety mindset there too… Shit’s hard and life’s tough and it sucks sometimes but you gotta keep trying, there’s also good you just have to keep an open eye and an open mind. This is why I say sometimes that marchil is the meaning to life to me likeeeee. Ok but it kinda is though…… to me…………..

For as many people think Chilchuck’s demeanor with his family might have been lacking, someone will not let you forget that Chilchuck is a VIRTUOUS HUSBAND!! < Marcille says with the power of bicorn and Daltian Clan on her side. Defend his virtue like he’s a blorbo from your shows marcille go And he is so sure he is an opaque wall he sees her as silly and clumsy, but he’s transparent lmao. She really is so curious about him. And bicorn’s sorta like at her top game on that front— She doesn’t know Chil’s wife so she gets ahead of herself on some things but Chilchuck wise? She gets his pov down so well that it leaves him shaking in fear of her accuracy gdbdg. Ohh the fear of being known, "if we want the rewards of being loved, we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known" is marchil but we been knew that.

Right from the beginning we see Marcille’s more observant with him than she seems, for example telling Senshi that Chil’s "the most mature of the party", but she does idealize him as a young little angel, similarly to Falin even when she knows logically they’re not kids, but still acts like it and oversteps boundaries, and then of course shit happens and the changelings puts the nail in that coffin- but before she can get to the bicorn convo at the top of her Chilchuck accuracy, she also first has to believe that Chilchuck committed adultery. His fall from grace from little angel to dirty old man status. She has to acknowledge he’s very much capable of fucking shit up and not soften it at all, he’s an adult and has to take responsibility for his mistakes, and give him the cold shoulder so Chil sees his life flashing in front of his eyes and goes fuck not again. "Maybe telling people I care about that I did awful things to get them off my back is a terrible strategy actually", and then when she finds out he hasn’t they’re back to being besties, but now Marcille fully sees him as an adult who’s capable of having faults. She can’t idealize him or strip him of depth anymore, him having these two hard to reconcile halves to him is key in teaching her not to judge and categorize people so much anymore.

But then… And this is the key, she saw him as a little guy to always forgive and excuse who can do no true wrong, to glaring at him and being unfriendly when it’s revealed he did something she can’t forgive easily— but when it’s cleared up, she doesn’t lean hard either way anymore, she doesn’t go right back to black and white putting him in a box, there’s balance now. When she gives her wife roleplay speech, she can recognize the faults in him that would have made her feel sad and unloved while still assuring him she’d love him and would want him back, she describes a blatantly unglamorous daily life and presents it as the greatest thing since sliced bread. She goes from idealizing impossible standards like novel princes to romanticizing a mediocre flawed everyday man 😌

And to be clear, romanticizing, not romancing. Focusing on the beauty of it and turning it into a nice aesthetic little thing like how she would a novel archetype, like how Ghibli movies romanticize slow daily life and chores. She doesn’t present it as something it’s not, she just sees the silver lining in all of it, frames it as pleasant and desirable. And isn’t that lowkey so much better like doesn’t that make life so beautiful without dangerously veiling your eyes to reality though…. Sighh marchil is the meaning of life

Giggling kicking my feet 💕 Marcille sees a rain cloud locked door locked heart locked book man and takes it as a challenge, says not on my watch I’ll befriend him, ends up reading him like an open book.

NOBODY DOES IT LIKE THEM!! THERE WILL NEVER BE ANOTHER MARCHIL AGAIN!!! Sobbing into my hands. What if our relationship and our arc examplified the theme of fantasy vs reality in relationships in Dunmeshi what then

You will fuck up and that’s ok… Shit will get tough but it’s worth it… There are still people to love and who will love you even if every relationship ends with loss, wether rejection or death. THE! MEANING! OF! LIFE!

Bad things and good things can coexist and balance each other out the way Chilchuck and Marcille do I need to walk into the ocean. Okay okay okay okay

Dunmeshi prones the importance of balance for both a healthy body and a healthy mind, and optimism vs pessimism is one such case <3

If you were too glass half-full and I was too glass half-empty, maybe together we could make a full glass

[zeb-z]

I just think Tallulah gets to be upset about this. “It’s not Wilbur’s fault” “He’s not a bad dad” “He loves his daughter so much” yes! These are all true! And it’s not his fault! But he’s still not there. And Tallulah has gone through so much and still hasn’t seen him, the one time he was around was the one time she wasn’t, and all she has are letters and “I’m thinking of you always” and things that used to be theirs together, but he’s still not there. She’s waited and she’s been patient and she’s loved him all the same, and he’s still not there. Like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, from the happy milestones to the traumatic events, he’s still not there.

She knows that it’s not his fault, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s absent. That in and of itself just adds to the sorrow, because she knows why he’s gone, and she’s been told time and time again it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, she knows this - it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting, that it doesn’t hurt, that she doesn’t yearn for her father to be there more than anything in the world, and he’s just not there.

So yes, she gets to be upset, and be caustic, and stomp her feet and write bitter messages, and be angry and vitriolic, because she’s a little girl missing her father, who feels things with her whole heart and soul - and that means she gets to feel the ugly parts of it, too.

[astralleywright]

Marisha's comment about how Relvin is one of those parents who ended up with a child they didn't know what to do with really gets to the heart of it, i think, and is such a good way to tie the fantasy element of Imogen's powers into things more tangible. because there are really a lot of parents like Relvin in real life, who have a child with the person they're happily married to and never expect to be left alone with the kid. or who expect a ""normal"" (read: cisgender and heterosexual, able-bodied, relatively neurotypical and obedient, etc.) child and end up with one who's ""difficult"", who demands more or different of them than what they believe they signed up for. and that's not entirely entitlement on a parent's part- many cultures' common frameworks of parenthood and child-rearing do not include space for these children. it makes sense that Relvin was unprepared. raising any child is difficult, and raising a child whose needs you were never taught how to accommodate, who the world is so cruel to, is even more challenging.

and yet. and yet, the person who bears the brunt of the harm in these situations will always be the child. they're the ones who have to live every moment of how the world treats them, without the support that their parent is supposed to provide them. and when asked to care for his child even when she turned out to be ""difficult"", Relvin couldn't. for entirely sympathetic reasons, of course. he tried, in his own way. i don't think he's a bad guy. but he's let his own broken heart bleed onto his daughter. he hasn't been able to give her much else.

[lynxfrost13]

Maybe I’ll finally Wanze post soon

[anthromimicry]

jandy nelson, i'll give you the sun | jean anouilh tr, by lewis galantière | @soulinkpoetry | trista mateer, the dogs i have kissed | the bible

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Man if Marcy keeps ending up with like child protection services in all these fics over her parents being slightly distant then my parents should be in JAIL

[brutalmasks]

margaret atwood, the year of the flood // han kang, human acts // may sarton, a durable fire: poems // tracie macvean, claustrophobia // george r.r. martin, a game of thrones // anne sexton, a self portrait in letters // ada limón, the echo sounder: lucky wreck // mary oliver, summer morning // robert mora, untitled // laurie halse anderson, speak

[fujii-draws]

hey fujii do you wanna hear about a silly little thing i thought of earlier. so you know how in red/blue rescue team, eevee used to be in the "naive" category, whereas in explorers of sky, it's in the "jolly" category? it made me think about ribbons, specifically because of how the rescue team personality test describes the naive trait.

in rescue team, the naive type is described to be someone whos highly curious, and someone who likes rare things. their cheerful and carefree make everything fun for the people around them, but they also have the flaw of being childish, never sitting still, and always being on the move. (it also says that they might be selfish but i dont see that applying to ribbons tbh..)

it seems so oddly fitting for ribbons because her personality does show those traits in particular. she's a silly little thing and her bright cheery personality, and she is childish to some extent. and of course, can't forget her curiosity. especially with how curious she got when it came to dusknoir. and of course, we can't forget about the *actual* definition of naive. naivety in the sense of choosing to believe that dusknoir, despite how his aura flared with malice, bared no ill intent. to think that someone who is so great, so wise, so kind and caring could ever be capable of shattering her world apart.. that was naive. because she believed he was what she thought he was, and because it was her naivety that nearly got her and aimilios killed. you'd think she'd have learned from the drowzee incident where two kids displaying trust in a spur-of-the-moment stranger who coincidentally showed them kindness in their misfortune was a mistake, but i suppose that's what being a naive little child does to you.

(anyways im sorry if this sounds incoherent and out of the blue. have a good day)

DONT YOU DARE APOLOGIZE FOR THIS. THE JOLLY AND NAIVE NATURES FIT MY GIRL SO WELL. (Unhinged rant in tags)

[gierosajie]

Thinking about how there's a lot more ghosts wandering Mondstadt in the Archon Dvalin AU than usual because Venti is usually the one sending off spirits into the afterlife and well. he's kinda stuck on that side post-Cataclysm

At first there weren't any because they just followed Venti, but afterwards there were some that still lingered and the number just kept piling up over the centuries. Many did eventually go on their own, but there's just more that didn't want to or simply couldn't

Dvalin doesn't know how to send them off, no one really showed him how and he doubts that even if he knew, he probably couldn't. Still, whenever a spirit decides to show themself, he stays with them for a bit, just to alleviate their burdens even a little and maybe help them find enough peace

It's probably another thing that eats at him alive because he couldn't even help those that he failed to protect, no matter how much most of them say it isn't his fault

And then, after the whole reconciliation with Celio thing, one of the lingering spirits asks him for a song. Before, he might've gently turned down the request, but after everything, he decided he might as well

Dvalin starts singing an old song he loved. Singing it had been painful, once, considering it was made as a duet and having to listen to the silent answer just brought him nothing but grief. Now, there's a sort of peace to how the breeze and the sound of nature fill in the gaps and pauses.

Over the course of the song, more and more ghosts come to listen. By the end of it, Dvalin opens his eyes to see most of them disappear, not in terms of hiding away like usual but rather beginning to dissolve into light as they finally move on

The last one to leave was the one who requested a song. She turns to smile at him. "I suppose I can finally tell that bard how much you've grown," she says before finally dissipating into the wind

[secret-plantcest-sideblog]

Anyway I feel like it kinda gets glossed over that Knives was a child when he caused the big fall and idk I think that's kind of important because he's lived with that for over 100 years and just like Vash has lived with knowing the people he loves and fights for don't see him or his kind as anything more than a tool at best or a monster at worst, Knives has most definitely lived with knowing he's the leading reason why this system has remained in place