#ask and there's a 50% chance you shall receive

[cherubispunk]

NEPHILIM: THE FALLEN - Jackson-era!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: fallen or damned? who's to tell when it's joel miller?

a note from Lucy: DONT HATE ME I KNOW ITS BEEN A LONG TIME!! Not entirely happy with this but it's been sitting in my docs for months now and i had to get it out there to give me some peace of mind so please be aware it may well be riddle with grammatical mistakes and typos galore. as always like, comment and reblog to save a sinners sanity!

playlist | moodboard + poem

wc: 2755

Warnings: 18+ MDNI DARK CONTENT! Jackson era!post outbreak!Joel, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as ‘Bambi’, verbally constipated Joel Miller, brief gore descriptions, heavy religious imagery and references to the bible, biblical lore, yearning, idiots in love, angst angst angst!!!!!!, bombastic age gap!!! yahhhhh! (reader is in her 20’s/ Joel is in his late 50’s), smut, oral sex (m! receiving), rough oral sex, possessive!joel, dom!joel/sub!reader dynamic, you know the drill with my writing, there’s probably some form of cannibalism as a metaphor, or brutal violence as a metaphor, religious imagery as a metaphor, etc. (aka, fancy word vomit) - Lucy crying over a bloody google doc :)

series masterlist | m.list

Ephesians 2:3 Among them we too all formerly lived in the lusts of our flesh, indulging the desires of the flesh and of the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, even as the rest.

The sky was bruised. It was like God– or whatever resided up there– knew. The grey clouds, and the garish yellow of the setting sun, and the deep blue that ebbed into purple…they all knew. Your heart ached too. Bruised. It seemed to crack a little more each day. What started as nothing more than a hairline fracture had split into a gaping, weeping slice. Why? Because Joel was always quiet. For such a large man he had a ghostly habit of creeping into a room without notice. Creeping into your heart too through your hollow ribs. You could feel him behind you now though. His breath thick on the nape of your neck and it cooled the thin sheen of sweat on your skin. Soothed your burning flesh while saving it from the inferno. The tension became bearable. These little spaces of empty matter between all else. That slight awkwardness about his usual stoic yet confident demeanour…it was endearing now.

You were easing into the silence, content with watching the bruise darken from purple to midnight blue. The sky would turn on its bright little stars, and the moon would slice through sapphire as the early evening aged. The sun was going to rest now, the greying moon taking its post to watch over the town. You should follow the sun’s direction. Close your eyes so as to not have to witness his all too soon departure.

His fingers, so gentle, so strong, gently traced the curve and divot of your hip under the covers. It was strange to think just moments prior they had been inside you. Making you feel boneless in bed.

“Bambi?” He asked, tentative and uncharacteristically uncertain. He loathed it; the change in him.

“Mhm?” You hummed lazily, your hands tucked under the pillow to keep them warm, knees curled up to your chest. But no answer nor following question came. You knew what it was. He was cramming something back down his throat before he had the chance to say it for fear of being out of line. One day it shall choke him blue. He was strung so tightly. Tension in his shoulders that made them rise uncomfortably. And you noticed this when you turned to face him. Neither of you spoke for a moment, as if you were fooling yourself into believing he might continue. Your heart cracked a little more when he turned to face the wall,

“Never mind. It’s nothin’.” He had no reason to be weary of you. However in the past few weeks, coming up to a month, there was subtle, almost imperceptible unease that lingered. And festered. Palpable. Tangible. You could feel it when you reached out to touch his skin. So warm and gorgeous. Golden like ichor in this setting sunlight. You dared to press your lips to the wing of a shoulder blade, skin mangled with scar tissue where you liked to imagine wings once resided, and felt him flinch under your featherlight kiss. “Don’t, Bambi.”

“Joel-“

“I said: No.” His voice was firm, and didn’t give much leeway for convincing. “It’s not somethin’ you know how to fix.” But you were stubborn now. You’d found your feet. You stood your ground more, imitated behaviour. Before he could turn away again you reached to right him, set him flat on his back upon the mattress and splay your hand over his soft stomach under the covers. His throat tightened when your hand ventured timidly south. Then his breath tangled in his throat when it wrapped loosely around his half hard cock. Gently stroking it until it stood to attention in your palm. “Let me help…the way I know how.” You whispered into his ear, running your tongue under his earlobe to bring it between your teeth. Voice like honey, so sweet, and smooth, and slow pouring enough to get stuck in. Jesus Fucking Christ, he hated himself for even entertaining the idea of letting you do this for him. For being the one to help you find your feet. For being the man who tarnished innocence. It seemed all he did these days was ruin what little good there was left in the world. He’d taken an entire inkpot to a pristine sheet of paper, splattered black all over it without a care in the world until now. He felt like the space between you was stygian and reeked of his own sin. It simmered and spat and writhed and any moment now I would boil over the second you came to terms with the fact you were too good for him.

His nostrils flared with the thought but with a twist of your wrist he melted. Because at the base of it all, the very depth of his humanity, he was a selfish, selfish man. You watched a swallow pass down the thick column of his throat and rested your head on his shoulder while your hand dragged up his thick, full shaft, thumb smearing a bead of precome over the delicate flushed skin of its head. Joel watched the ceiling and wallowed in pathetic self pity as you kissed your way down his navel, lips moving in a mumbling of words he couldn't quite hear. He let out a breathy moan when you wrapped your lips around the tip, pressing your tongue flat to the underside to let the taste seep onto your tongue. He then closed his eyes trying to imagine anyone other than you between his legs. Another mouth. Another tongue. Someone else's voice.

It was no use because it seemed your eyes, the shade, the shape, were printed to the back of his lids. He gave up. He was too old to try to partake in sisyphean tasks.

Joel sat up and you moved between his legs as he threw the covers off to watch you. His back to the headboard, your warm mouth inviting him deeper, he hesitated to press a hand to the crown of your head, but when you pulled off to lick a flat tongued strip from base to tip, he found himself taking a fist of your hair and righting you over the head completely, pushing down so he slipped into your mouth. Muscle memory had the twitch of a smirk forming at the corner of his lips. The sight of you was enough to have his hips begging to buck, chasing the back of your throat, attempting to find that reaction again.

What you couldn't take of him you wrapped loosely in one hand and the other cupped his balls, adding the slightest pressure that had a dirty cuss passing his chapped lips. Deep inhales billowed in his nose, nostrils flared slightly as he dragged your open, salivating mouth up and down on his length. What he would never understand is how much you hungered for this every time. There was a pain in wanting him like no other, and a reward this great sowed the seed of pleading. You didn’t mind yearning for him because, to you, being hungry was quite a satisfying feeling. It feels nice to want something. To yearn. To have a purpose. You imagined he felt quite the same with the way he could hardly keep his hands from your cunt or your mouth when you passed his front door’s threshold.

“Look at me, Bambi.” He grunted, and your eyes fluttered slightly before the hue of them locked on his through your tear clumped lashes. “I’d like this mouth a whole lot more if it didn’t say such pretty things to me.” He almost lamented, and you felt a tug at your heartstrings. “Makin’ a man hope again.”

Joel sighed, eyes closing for the briefest second. His large hand was still pushing your head with the gentlest of force back down, then his fingers gripped at your hair, dragging you again so the warm, silken touch of your lips and tongue made the fire in his belly start to burn. It was aching, and deep rooted, and had a slow simmer to it. One he begged to hurry along. Joel wanted nothing more than his release so he could set you free again. Set the bird free of its cage. So he threw caution to the wind, and soon you felt the tip of his thick cock reach the back of your mouth again, your throat constricting. “Why won’t you hate me, huh Bambi? What did I do to deserve this?” He asked. If you knew no better you’d have thought his tone implied he hated it. His teeth gritted, words seethed between them. He spat it out in a way that made him seem unworthy of your attention— or the very taste of the thought disgusted him and made his stomach pull up in a wretch. Joel bit down so violently on nothing he swore his molars might turn to dust and clag in spit with the way he was salivating over the sight of you; Puffy lips, bloodshot watering eyes, messy hair. Bent over him and sucking on his cock like it was your only goddamned purpose in life.

You wanted to reply, splutter out the words, but he silenced you. The tip of his cock brushing the back of your throat, and causing your stomach to recoil, tensing as you gagged. Retching slightly as he grimaced at the sound. “You know I can’t love y–” he stopped mid sentence as the ache bloomed into a deep burn. You were oh so grateful because it meant you wouldn’t have to hear what you yearned not to. What you buried deep beneath your stomach and above your diaphragm— that slow, blooming ache. The feeling would never see the light of day. You’d rather die than come to terms with the fact that Joel would not be yours. He belonged to the world. The mass of nature that befell you. That which kept you human and incompetent. He was large, untamable, and oh so delectable in all ways other than matters of love. Joel Miller could not love you.

“Fuck- gonna come, Bambi.” He choked out, head falling back. You looked up at the sight of him through your lashes, lips parted, his brows creased gently in the space between them. Just as you yearned for him to love you, you yearned to be destroyed by him. Coated in him, broken down to pieces by him. Joel Miller could quite literally break you in half, then half again, and again— to the point where nothing was discernible— and you'd get on your knees to thank him for it all. Maybe loving him and being destroyed by him were two in the same?

In the months you’d known him you’d grown to learn that this was as close to a purpose as you’d get. The world robbed you of one, so you searched for it. Selfish enough to keep digging to find one. Only it had no purpose. It has a pattern now, and patterns trick and deceive people into believing in divine intervention. Joel was your divine right. Your purpose. That was what you believed. What you thought about each night. What you thought about now as you took his cock down to the base, the head of him brushing the back of your throat and folds soaked– drenched in the essence of your own arousal. All of which was emphasised by the ache you felt between your thighs that ebbed a little deeper with wanting. A ghost of the pleasure you felt when he was inside you. You entertained it with two fingers slipping between your thighs, teasing your clit. “God— Bambi…” He groaned, eyes rolling back in his head as he let go. Hot ropes of his release flooding your mouth with their heady, salty taste.

You pulled off his shaft, now wet and slick in your own saliva, swallowing a mouthful of his release. His eyes never left you, honing in on the ripple of your delicate throat as you swallowed his come down. Joel couldn't help but hook a thumb into your mouth to unhinge your jaw— to see if anything was left. Nothing was. There never was. Like him, you were too selfish to leave anything.

He should have known better. You never disappoint. “Bambi, you’re too damn good for me.” he panted, skin sweat slick and flushed.

“I promise I'm not.” you whispered to the skin of his lips before he wrapped a large, steadying hand around your arm and pulled you up to his chest. His face met yours and when you looked into those hickory eyes you could have melted on the spot; For the hue of them was nothing like you'd ever seen before, and could command nations to their knees. And if not nations then it could certainly do so to you. “I’m just as damaged as you.`’

The words had his gut in knots because they were akin to holding up a mirror to his visage. And holding his head in place. Holding it still so he was forced to look himself in the eyes and reflect. Reflecting on the monster he’d become. The monster he would always be.

“I’m not asking you to love me, Joel.” You spoke, your voice quiet, slight and timid. Uncertain of his reaction. The way your eyes met his was proof of that. Wide like a foal, wide enough to register the unjust curl of a lip. “ I’m just asking you to stay…”

The words had been burning the tip of your tongue red raw. Each night as he lay beside you, the same questions— words made up of nothing but consonants that had a profound effect on you– would hardly let you rest in his arms. They tortured you instead; Mocked you. It was the equivalent of hanging. You could feel the ghost of a noose around your neck. It might as well have been His hands. It was as rough as them after all.

What is wrong with you? What is so repulsive about you that warrants his departure? Was it the curve of your hips– their dips? Or even the bump on your nose– how dare it not have the perfect influxing curve! The slant of your eyes? The jagged stretch marks on the inside of your thighs! Not only had they the nerve to exist in their silver, shining mockery, posing as a diamond, but they had the fucking nerve to sit where others could see. Fuck them entirely and their very existance. Were those very thighs plump enough? Too plump? Why was there no gap between? Was there too much of a sag to your breasts? The colour of your nipples– why did they have to be that colour? Were the lines on your forehead marring your skin? What on you– about you– detested him? Because if you knew you'd cut it off. You'd change it. You take a knife to your nose and cut it off even if it was just to spite your own face. Now, laying here with him, you wish to be anyone but yourself. Yourself was the woman that disgusted you. It would always be the woman that disgusted you if he didn’t fall in love.

“That's jus’ the thing, Bambi.” He sighed, his mouth moving in a slow hushed mumble. His wind chapped, weathered lips grazed the shell of your ear, “I already do.” Followed by silence, and then: “An’ I ain’t no good at it, I’m afraid.”

That was the problem. Joel thought it had to be a life lived in an entirety of carolling laughter for you. A warm, joyous time. The kind of peace the world seldom granted anyone anymore. Not bound to him by the twine of his selfish nature. In the wrong man’s bed. If the world had told him anything before it was that he deserved to be alone. First Sarah. Then Tess. Ellie too. It was only a matter of time before you left too. He had no clue that what you wanted was just to be held. To be kept. He didn’t have to carve out a hole in himself to accommodate you. Nor give an arm or a limb. He just had to stay. Exactly where he was now. Exactly as he is. But selfish men believe in selfish things. And Joel Miller was a selfish man.

Maybe he wasn't. Humans are, after all, selfish creatures. If we are innately selfish does that make us selfish, or just human. Regardless– Joel was selfish. Yes. But more importantly: He was the damned, the scrutinised, the beggar. All of the above.

Joel Miller was, and forever will be, the fallen.

[mistergandalf]

ULTIMATE TOLKIEN BLORBO: ROUND ONE IS COMPLETE!

Here’s who won:

Thorin Oakenshield vs. Bard the Bowman

Bilbo Baggins vs. Dwalin

Kili vs. Gandalf

Fili vs. Thranduil

Legolas Greenleaf vs. Éomer

Aragorn vs. Éowyn

Elrond Peredhel vs. Elladan & Elrohir

Frodo Baggins vs. Meriadoc “Merry” Brandybuck

Gimli vs. Peregrin “Pippin” Took

Samwise Gamgee vs. Boromir

Faramir vs. Galadriel

Maedhros vs. Celebrimbor

Maglor vs. Finrod Felagund

Glorfindel vs. Morgoth

Sauron vs. Celegorm

Fingon vs. Fëanor

Looks like the next round is going to be contentious! Hope you’re ready.

And now, for a special announcement…

Did your blorbo lose UNJUSTLY in Round One? Fear not! They shall have their chance to shine! All characters who lose in the primary bracket will get a second chance on the secondary bracket. But if they lose here… welp, guess they’re not cut out for victory…

Rankings to seed this bracket were taken from your votes. Whoever received the most votes (not the highest percentage) was ranked first, and whoever received the least votes was ranked last. Then #1 was paired with #16, #2 with #15, etc.

You may notice there is a new contender! Yes, Arwen Undómiel has entered the competition! Because of the way I pulled data from AO3, I accidentally eliminated her, and she totally deserves to be here. So to right my wrongs, I have removed Dwalin from the running as he lost by the largest margin. For maximum fairness, she has been paired with Finrod as he was in the very center of the data.

New polls will be posted starting 12pm EDT (GMT -4) tomorrow (or today, if you’re in Europe). I will be posting polls for the primary bracket first, then the secondary bracket the next day. May the best blorbo win!

And now, for some analytics…

Who got the most votes?

Éowyn blew everyone else out of the water with a staggering 1,699 votes to her name. I imagine this is due to the very intense campaigning between her and Aragorn.

Who got the least votes?

Elladan & Elrohir, with 174 votes. You are small but mighty, twin fans!

Which races were the most contentious?

Aragorn vs. Éowyn was the most widely-circulated poll, but Éowyn managed to win by a 1.8% margin.

Maglor vs. Finrod Felagund was pretty contentious, with the results wavering back and forth over the 50% line basically the entire time. Maglor managed to eke out a 0.8% margin of victory!

Fingon vs. Fëanor was the most contentious of them all, with Fëanor winning by a slim margin of 0.4%. This one also went back and forth! As we all know, Silmarillion fans are extremely passionate, and the notes on these posts prove it.

I have more questions!

Cool! Send me an ask and I’ll give you some answers!

That’s it until next time. Best of luck to your blorbos!

[directadmission]

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[voxofthevoid]

Ask and ye shall receive @laughing-sock

I'm putting this under a cut because this is, more or less, the full story outline for this AU. Usually, details change when I write, but the chances of me getting to this are literally 1 in 50 (or is it 52 now?). Also, fair warning these are coming straight out of my for-my-eyes-only outline with just some cleanup for grammar and coherence.

Background/characterization:

Yuuji’s backstory a mix of the canon myth of Sukuna and Angra Mainyu from Fate: survivor of a human kodoku ritual, used by Kenjaku (who remains mum of the year) as a receptacle for evil, eventual corruption/insanity, more curse than human by the time he died (hence the physical mutations), exorcism failed so they sealed his fingers. Less a willful calamity like Sukuna than a harbinger of misfortune and destruction through circumstances. He retains his sense of self despite all that and pursues his goals (even if it's something as simple as a life without strings) single-mindedly once incarnated.

Sukuna’s a born/clanless sorcerer, same CT as canon, but it’s in its nascency. Like the potential of the 10 Shadows versus how Megumi has used it so far. Swallows the first finger when he and Megumi encounter a bunch of grade ones while retrieving it? Doesn’t die the way Yuuji did later, but he still makes a binding vow in exchange for access to Yuuji’s CE. Conditions: (a) Yuuji gets his body for half an hour but won’t do anything that would cause lasting damage to Sukuna—if he breaks something, he’ll heal it; (b) Sukuna won’t remember what Yuuji does during that time.

Basement training still happens because the first time Sukuna goes all out with Yuuji’s CE, he wrecks his body and also everything in the vicinity. Gojou nabs him to teach him control and hopefully self-restraint before turning him loose on the rest of the students.

Plot points:

Basement training era: Gojou waking to “Sukuna” sneaking into his room the night after the encounter with Jogo, revealed to not be Sukuna. Yuuji pretty genial and curious. Personal space whomst—climbs into Gojou’s bed probably, and Gojou lets him because why the fuck not, he’s insane. Infinity active, and Yuuji’s fascinated by that too. Question of how Yuuji’s taken Sukuna over when what made Sukuna the ideal vessel is that he can suppress him; Yuuji corrects that what makes Sukuna the ideal vessel is that they share blood. Mother’s been busy. Structure the dialogue so Gojou’s confused (for now) but readers can put two and two together. Yuuji explains the binding vow, points out Sukuna’s self-interest: Is this really the guy you want being a…special-grade sorcerer? Nothing Gojou doesn’t know, nothing he isn’t already concerned about. Yuuji bowing out with some cryptic line about power corrupting? Gojou’s left with an unconscious teenager passed out on him. Briefly considers just killing him. Doesn’t.

More conversations, Yuuji engaging in something that’s not…anything as subtle as seduction. His interest is blatantly obvious and not particularly graceful. Gojou’s amused. Kinda into it. Their personalities and chemistry are still there, and the curiosity about what Yuuji was kind of adds to it. Gojou isn’t, however, stupid enough to climb into bed with the King of Curses. Sexual tension galore. Bring up why Yuuji seems to be using his allotted half-hour to either woo or stalk Gojou, and the answer is that Yuuji wanted that time to just see what it’s like to live again. This continues even after the Goodwill Event—Gojou knows Yuuji better than he knows Sukuna by this point.

Work up to the sex scene. Gojou can make bad decisions, as a treat. Gojou keeps Infinity up the whole time because, again, he's not actually an idiot. It doesn’t, however, protect him from Yuuji biting off his (Sukuna’s) tongue and forcing it down Gojou’s throat while they’re kissing in the middle of fucking. Explain later that Yuuji grew it back immediately to avoid breaking the “lasting damage” clause. Gojou coming at the feeling of Yuuji’s CE aggressively burrowing into him; on top of him, Sukuna’s passed out—distinctly free of Yuuji’s CE. Gojou warps Sukuna to his dorm room and dumps him in bed and then checks his own face in a mirror; one of the eye slits opens to wink at him.

Confrontation in Gojou's mind/soul: Yuuji doesn’t want to stay in Sukuna because that boy’s going to become a curse worse than Yuuji ever was, regardless of whether he’s Yuuji host, and he’d hate to see what their mother has planned for them. He’d hate to see their mother at all actually, but that might be inevitable. Gojou can kill him here, but Yuuji will just regenerate. Even if they feed the remaining fingers to Sukuna, Yuuji can choose his host. Gojou pissed about being outmaneuvered, a little charmed at how Yuuji went about it, a lot charmed at how Yuuji’s still looking at him like he’d like to eat Gojou alive, and frankly confused by Yuuji’s promise that he doesn’t want to take Gojou over; he just wants to live and not be used. And the strongest sorcerer in the world doesn’t need his power, does he?

There's going to a metric ton of sex between this and the next bit.

Final scene: Yuuji taking over when Gojou freezes at the sight of Getou-Kenjaku to get the fuck away from the Prison Realm. Kenjaku, who didn’t know about the host switching, is not happy. Yuuji is also not happy about seeing his parent again. Gojou isn't happy at the realization Yuuji can essentially possess him. Three-way conversation from hell.

do any of your 50 (?) wips have....... king of curses gojo and vessel yuuji..... by chance......or the reverse...... also congratulations on having so many wips and having this much fun at writing !! it's really cool

*puts on my clown wig*

Make that 61!

Number 46 in that list is your guy. Kind of! Role swap of Sukuna and Yuuji, with King of Curses!Yuuji and vessel!Sukuna but with Gojou/Yuuji as the pairing (trust me, it'll work).

A good chunk of my outline for this is reworking canon so that King of Curses!Yuuji makes sense (Kenjaku my beloved). The rest is goyuu getting their freak on. That's all I can say without going into the plot twists, though if you want a spoiler-heavy rundown of the whole story, just let me know.

And thank you!! I haven't been this inspired in quite a while, and it's nice to lose my entire mind recreationally. You're sweet 💖

[odinsonsobsessed]

I need the whole wedding now!!! ahh i love it so much!!

Okay so.... I did a thing guys. Stay tuned....

[alycosworld]

HELLOOOOO<3 “💕” anon!!!o(≧v≦)o I’m really excited since my bday is coming up!!! [uk that alr LOL] anyways my request will be below as always!

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

purple-people

blue-subject

pink-genre

green-type of fan fic

orange-extra notes!

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

so i was wondering if u could do hc’s for a few characters? i actually dont know if u have a character limit so I’ll just request 3! if its too much u can actually remove some:) also if u want feel free to add on more characters if u like! so basically thoma,baal and childe [seperate] x NB!reader and its the readers bday!:D how would they celebrate for reader? also idk if u r comfy in doing female characters so if u would like u can just remove baal:) vv fluffy please<3

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

tysm for this<3 hope u dont mind writing for girls! I’m non-binary actually but i was born in a girls body LOL- also if u wanna make it GN so everyone can read it go ahead! drink water and get rest! only do this if u want!

Thoma, Baal, Kaeya, Beidou and Childe on the Reader's Birthday!

A/N: yes!! ofc I write for women and I have no character limit, it'll just take more time the more characters you want. for anyone who's curious or wants to request, I have a list of things that I won't write and women are not on that list! Also, HAPPY BIRTHDAY 💕 (who is changing their emoji to 🧸 I believe just so everyone is aware) LOVE YOU SO MUCH TY FOR YOUR SUPPORT!!

I added on kaeya and beidou bc I love themmm and my siblings simp for them and I don't have much character diversity so far hehe. also I haven't done baal's story quest so I'm sorry if she's a little ooc.

Thoma:

my man is ready and raring to go on the days leading up to your birthday. He's planned something. It doesn't matter what he has to do, he's doing it.

he's already asked Ayaka if he could take a few days off to get things ready and she is so supportive she even helps him.

HE HAS CONTACTS

if you want something that's super rare and expensive and practically impossible to acquire, you best believe he's calling in all his favours and getting whatever the fuck you want.

he baked your cake with his own two hands and it is nothing short of perfection. he made you a card and he wrote you a beautiful heartfelt message and drew a lil picture of you (that's really just a stick figure but APPRECIATE THE EFFORT)

if you wanted to go out, he took you everywhere you wanted and treated you to a meal, making sure everyone you saw remembered to wish you a happy birthday.

if you felt like staying inside, he threw you your own little party for two and did whatever your wanted - sleeping, dancing, singing, art, cooking, literally anything.

he was at your beck and call all day. normally he serves the shirasagi himegimi, now he's serving you not like he doesn't already do everything you say

to summarise, he loves you with his whole heart and will do anything to make your day extra special 🥺🥺

Baal

"It's beloved's birthday soon? Oh...I suppose I should make a few preparations..."

Proceeds to invade your home while you're out and orders people around to make everything fucking perfect

It's incredible once you ignore the trespassing and you can't help but fall in love with her even more.

she's decorated your home with traditional birthday decorations and everything is just the way you'd like it - although it's very to the letter, almost like she was reading a manual while getting people to prepare things...

as soon as you ask her about it, she crumbles. she wasn't sure how to go about it exactly so she asked Yae but omitted your name to avoid getting teased, hence receiving very general birthday advice.

ITS STILL BEAUTIFUL THO SHE TOOK MOST OF YOUR LIKINGS INTO ACCOUNT JUST SAY YOU LOVE IT ALREADY

she wouldn't be too willing to leave or go outside because people will talk, but if you wish it, it shall be.

she bought you whatever you wanted plus a lil something extra as a token of her appreciation of your existence. maybe a decorative object that reminded her of you - she might be even customised it to add a personal touch

all in all, she loves you eternally and she's gonna make sure you know it every year on your special day

Childe

we all know that this menace is a money machine, right?

THIS MAN SPENT ALL HIS MORA ON YOU AND NOBODY SO MUCH AS QUESTIONED IT - HIS DEVOTION IS PROMINENT

you woke up and he presented you with your first gift. at breakfast, he cooked you a whole fucking feast. the rest of the morning, he took you out and let you pick whatever you want from multiple stores and gave you another gift. at lunch, he bought you another 50 fucking course meal

the evening, however, he spent a little more intimately.

you got to cut your three-tier cake and open the rest of your presents at home before he let you enjoy the day however you wanted, similarly to Thoma.

he did whatever you wanted - it was your birthday after all.

he made sure you knew that you were loved and appreciated and expressed how happy he is that you were born and that you're in his life.

oh, and to make up for lovingly hogging you all day, he threw you a party with all your loved ones the day after to make sure everyone got their chance to celebrate your day.

Kaeya Alberich

"Oh? Is it darling's birthday already? I'll have to take the day off to make things extra special..."

kaeya, every day is a day off for you stfu

Mr Alberich really sets aside the tension between him and his brother to ask if he can borrow Angel's Share for a lil party. Using his smooth tactics, he eventually gets Diluc to cave

(basically, Kaeya just ranted how much he loved you and wanted to make things special and Diluc fucking gave up hehe)

He got Jean, Lisa, Amber, Diluc, Venti, Fischl, Bennett, Diona, Klee, Albedo, Sucrose, Barbara, Eula, Mona, Noelle, Razor, Rosaria and all your friends and family to agree to come to Angel's Share and enjoy a night of fun and (Y/N) appreciation.

On your actual birthday, he spent the morning in bed with you, talking about how much he loved you and shamelessly flirting with you before making breakfast.

You spent the morning and most of the afternoon walking around town and enjoying yourselves, allowing the townsfolk to wish you a happy birthday.

and Kaeya convinced you into joining him at Angel's Share in the evening, only to be pleasantly surprised by the people singing happy birthday and the confetti that flew around the room.

this man is lovestruck - if you let him spoil you any longer, you'd probably collapse of over appreciation (and excessive flirty one-liners hehe)

Beidou

my girl beidou? she went all out for you, there's literally a 0.00 percent chance you don't enjoy what she had planned.

You spent your day with her walking around Liyue Harbour, doing everything you wanted.

You listened to storytellers, bought various items like fireworks and sparklers and ate good food, just enjoying each other's company until the evening arrived.

Beidou just dragged you away, making sure you closed your eyes the whole time until you reached your destination.

When you opened your eyes, you couldn't believe it - you were on the Cruz Fleet, surrounded by her crew and all your loved ones.

As soon as you stepped on, the ship leisurely sailed off into the night like some fairytale and you got to enjoy a moonlit sail, as cheesy as it sounds.

It was slow and you allowed yourself to savour the way the ships's lanterns reflects and glittered on the water a long with the moon.

You were surrounded by everyone you cared about and everyone who cared about you (but some of the crew drank a little too much in celebration of your birth hehe)

Beidou just wants you to know how much she and everyone else loves you and wants you to know that she is glad you exist <3

[absolutepokemontrash]

You don't need to write this if you dont want too because it's up to you but this is something wholsome

WHAT IF L!MC M!M & BBY A!MC BECOME BABIES AND THERE EVEONES HAS TO CARE FOR THEM,

I apologize for having such horrible writing and grammer. I never payed attention in school, nor could I afford to pay attention 👉😎👉

Bro I feel you on the not paying attention in school thing. Fear not, dearest asker, ask for demon babies, and since I am a merciful writer, you shall receive.

Oh Shit, Half-Demon Babies are Running Amok Send Diapers and Help-

Mini summary for the casual reader, L!MC is Lucifer’s half demon child who got summoned into the Devildom to be one of the human exchange students, M!MC is Mammon’s half demon kid, and A!MC is Asmo’s. Let’s get to the fic!

Ah, what a relaxing day... Lucifer was sitting back in his desk chair, enjoying a nice glass of Demonus and listening to one of his favourite cursed vinyls. He had done a damn good job on his work earlier and Diavolo had insisted there was no more work to be done and he could have the weekend all to himself.

Of course, his brothers were still a factor that could have ruined his me-time... on any other weekend! Satan had just gotten a new encyclopedia to read, so he wouldn’t be causing any trouble, Beel and Belphie were going to take that Devildom food tour, Mammon and M!MC were planning on spending the entire weekend shopping, Asmo and A!MC were going up to the human world on Saturday and staying until Sunday, and Levi... He got a sudden burst of inspiration for his Animal Crossing Island and most likely wouldn’t be leaving his room for the next month. Lastly, L!MC wouldn’t be causing any problems, his child would probably spend their time with him rambling about musicals or anime they had seen, and Lucifer found their intense interest very adorable.

Ah... peace and quiet...

...

...why did Lucifer hear crying?

There, standing in the entrance hall of the House of Lamentation, was Solomon, holding three screaming babies.

What, and I cannot stress this enough, THE HELL?!

“Ah, Lucifer,” Solomon attempted to wave hello, but needing to continue to bounce one of the babies on his hip kind of hindered the gesture, not that Lucifer wanted a wave at that moment. “I’m sure you have questions.”

After everyone had gathered into the living room, Solomon explained how a spell gone awry had hit L!MC, M!MC, and A!MC with the effect of turning the three into the screaming infants that stood (or... awkwardly sprawled out) in front of them.

On the bright side, the spell only had a timespan of roughly two days, so they wouldn’t be stuck like that forever.

Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes (save for the babies, who were still either crying or incoherently babbling) as they processed that information. Lucifer, ever the flawless older brother and leader, stood up and clapped his hands together once.

“Alright then, everyone cancel your weekend plans, we need to deal with this.”

Lucifer’s dearest little brothers all whined in protest, Satan in particular. “They’re not our kids, why do Belphie, Beel, Levi, and I need to cancel our plans?!”

“Satan,” Lucifer said sternly. “You don’t remember this, but it took six people to take care of one of you. The kids may only be half demons but there are three of them. We need all hands on deck. Besides, if you all want someone to blame, blame Solomon.”

Everyone turned and levelled their practically murderous glared at the sorcerer, who suddenly pulled baby A!MC into his lap and began to rock them back and forth.

“I have never felt more unsafe.” Solomon laughed nervously. “But you wouldn’t kill me while I’m holding my not-child would you?”

Asmo stomped over and snatched A!MC away from Solomon. “I can’t believe you- ACK! A!MC! Stop drooling!”

A!MC had a long trail of drool coming out of their mouth which caused Asmo to shriek and hold A!MC at arms length away. “Stop that! That’s gross, A!MC, you know better.”

The adorable baby continued to babble and drool.

Mammon picked up M!MC, who almost immediately stopped crying upon seeing Mammon’s watch, they began making grab hands at it. “Ah, ya want the watch?”

M!MC squealed in delight as Mammon dangled the watch above them, Mammon was delighted that his little brat still had their expensive taste, even as a baby. “Hey, look at me! I’m doin’ pretty good! Suck it, Asmo!”

As Asmo and Mammon bickered, Lucifer took the time to look at L!MC, they pulled at Lucifer’s tie and hummed to themselves. They were mind numbingly cute despite the screeching they were doing earlier. The sight tugged at the cold spot where Lucifer’s heart should have been, he had missed this part of his child’s life... maybe just that weekend he’d get a chance to-

“Solomon where do you think you’re going?” Lucifer was pulled from his thoughts when he noticed the shifty bastard trying to make his escape. “You’re staying to help manage this nonsense.”

—————

A!MC may have been an absolute ray of sunshine normally, but as a baby, they definitely lived up to the term demon-spawn.

A!MC would scream, cry and pitch a fit if they didn’t get what they wanted immediately, not that they had any way of articulating what they wanted because they were a god damn baby! Asmo and Solomon were at the point where they were just holding stuff out to A!MC to see if it would make them stop crying.

“Come on butterfly, don’t you like this... antique perfume bottle?” Asmo asked, A!MC took one look at it, then burst into flames and started wailing again. “For the love of my father WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!”

Now there were two sobbing messes in the room, and one was on fire. Solomon quickly magically took care of A!MC’s little fire problem (the baby was fiiiiiiine, demon babies light themselves on fire all the time!), picked A!MC up, sat down on Asmo’s bed, and snapped his fingers. Tiny balls of light gently floated into the air around the three, Asmo looked up from his pity party upon hearing A!MC stop their crying.

“See, you still like my magic, even as a baby, right A!MC?” Solomon asked, A!MC looked around in silent wonder, trying to reach up and touch the lights.

“Oh Solomon, this almost makes me forgive you for screwing up my weekend plans...” Asmo sighed in relief, he sat next to Solomon and pulled A!MC into his lap. “Not very colourful though, is it? Let me fix that.”

Asmo smiled as his own magic added streaks of colour, it was like their very own private showing of the northern lights. A!MC had on one of those goofy baby smiles that can make even the grumpiest person smile back.

Solomon and Asmo shaped some of the lights into shapes and animals, Asmo let a pink butterfly land on A!MC’s nose, much to their adorable delight.

“And that one’s a bird, and that one’s a giraffe,”

“That’s an alpaca.”

“Sorry, an alpaca with a weirdly long neck, oh! And a sheep!” Asmo looked down at his lap where A!MC sat and tickled their sides. “Everyone likes sheep!”

He then quickly shaped a ball of light into a scorpion and made it scuttle into A!MC’s lap. “But I have to say, scorpions are the best.”

The fifth born sighed in contentment as their sweet little hellspawn continued to watch the magic show. Never in his life did Asmodeus ever think he’d be this happy holding a baby, usually babies were things he thought should be handled with hazmat suits, but not at that moment. His little butterfly truly did have him wrapped around their finger.

“Asmo, hey, Asmo,” Asmo looked over at Solomon, who had a glowing triangle over one of his eyes. “Would you like to join my secret society?”

“Solomon, you are ruining the moment.”

——————

“C’mon kiddo! Eat your damn food!” Mammon once again tried to shove the spoon into his kid’s mouth with the same result as the 50 previous attempts.

“YUCKY!” M!MC shouted and slapped the spoon away.

“Here,” Beel took the spoon from Mammon. “Maybe it’s yucky like they said.”

Beel ate what was on the spoon, then smiled brightly. “You can really taste the mango!”

“See bud..? Beel likes it.” Mammon gestured at Beel, who was eating the entire jar of baby food as Belphie watched in amusement. He was such an asset to the team. “Beel! They need to eat!”

“Fine, let me try.” Belphie grabbed another spoon, and waved it in M!MC’s face. “Here comes the airplane... whoosh... whoosh...”

M!MC didn’t budge, Belphie knitted his eyebrows and rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, be that way.”

Levi pushed open the door to the kitchen, and upon seeing the scene before him, immediately turned and tried to leave. “Nope! Food isn’t worth getting spit up all over me-”

Mammon lunged forward, grabbed the back of Levi’s jacket and practically yanked him into the kitchen, he slapped a spoon into his hand and smiled. “C’mon, do a favour for your super great big brother!”

The third born looked at M!MC, who defiantly stared back at him, the baby had the upper hand and the little brat knew it. Babies were so much cuter in anime...

Levi nervously stepped forward and held out the spoon like a weapon. “O-okay M-M-M!MC... you need to eat your food... pls... pls eat.”

M!MC said nothing, they only did what most babies did.

...

They spun their head 90 degrees until the back of their head was all Levi could see.

Everyone in the kitchen stood in complete silence, until Mammon jumped a foot in the air and started screaming bloody murder. “MY BABY!”

He dove forward and scooped M!MC up in his arms, the baby, obviously freaked out by the sudden loud noise, had begun to cry.

“It’s okay! It’s okay! Uh... uh...” Mammon looked around frantically. “Hush little baby don’t say a word... papas gonna buy you a mockingbird. And if that mockingbird don’t sing, papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring... and if that diamond ring is brass, butitwon’tbebecauseyouroldmanwouldn’tgetcheatedlikethat-”

M!MC spun their head back to its correct position, but their crying sounds were now several octaves lower... It sounded like if someone put a baby in the Darth Vader mask but without the weird breathing sounds...

Mammon looked to Belphie. “I’m blankin’ on nursery rhymes! Ya hafta know some kid songs!”

Belphie, after being put on the spot, suddenly forgot every single nursery rhyme and lullaby any of his brothers had ever sung to him. Oh! A song popped into his head! He could sing that!

“Lizzie Borden took an axe, gave her mother forty whacks, when she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty one-”

“Not that one!” Mammon squeaked, holding M!MC closer to him. M!MC’s voice had returned to normal, the next problem is that they were only speaking in infernal. “Somethin’ else!”

“There was an old lady who swallowed a fly,” Beel began to sing. “I don’t know why she swallowed that fly... I forgot the rest of the song...”

“Dammit... Leviiiiii!” Mammon wheezed, desperately trying to calm the angrily growling M!MC. “Sing! Sing anything!”

“A-anything?” Only one song came to mind. “Uh um... With the doors of heaven and Hell barred, there is no other but the guard, Master of the Hellish Yard...”

Mammon lit up and nodded like Levi had just offered him a million Grimm. “Aw hell yeah! This song!”

He handed M!MC to Beel and began to dance and sing next to Levi, who had really gotten into the song as well!

“With those sins that you've committed, If you pay you'll be acquitted, and your crimes all permitted,” the two paused for dramatic effect before both belting out the best line in the song.

“ONLY ONES WITH CASH DO WELL, WELL AT LEAST IN HELL!”

As Levi and Mammon continued to sing, M!MC became so entranced by the dance, that they stopped their demonic babbling and just watched the second and third born dance and sing the English cover of an old vocaloid song. Belphie and Beel made brief confused eye contact to make sure the other twin was seeing the same thing.

The duo finished the song and took a bow, Beel lightly tapped M!MC’s chubby baby hands together to make it look like they were clapping. It was enough for Mammon and Levi.

“Thank you, thank you,” Mammon said. “We’ll be here forever, next show ain’t free.”

“We should sing The Tailor on Enbizaka next!”

“Levi! No! That song is like... seven minutes long!”

“Hey, morons,” Belphie stuck his thumb at M!MC. “They still haven’t eaten.”

Mammon’s triumphant expression dropped right to the floor. “Ah fuck...”

——————

“Satan, where’s L!MC-” Lucifer looked up at the ceiling of Satan’s room and his jaw dropped. “WHAT ARE THEY DOING UP THERE?!”

“I can’t get them down!” Satan hissed back.

L!MC. L!MC the BABY. They were on the ceiling. They were sitting upside down on the ceiling like it was an average Friday. Lucifer was too old for this shit...

“L!MC.” Lucifer held out his arms, L!MC squinted at him, that’s when Lucifer remembered L!MC was practically blind without their glasses. “L!MC, it’s your father, come here.”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried calling them down like that?!” Satan spat as he quickly ran a hand through his hair.

Lucifer shot a glare at Satan, then Lucifer heard something that nearly made his (lack of) heart stop. Oh no- L!MC was yawning-

L!MC yawned and suddenly detached from the ceiling. Lucifer and Satan both dove forward to catch L!MC, which culminated in one of Satan’s piles of books falling down, but with L!MC safe and sound.

“Damn it.” Satan grumbled as Lucifer shifted to properly hold L!MC. “This is going to take forever to clean...”

“That was clean?” Lucifer raised an eyebrow as L!MC began to fuss slightly.

Satan growled and rolled his eyes. “Yes, it was clean thank you very much. I knew exactly where everything was.”

The cat that unofficially ruled the House of Lamentation pranced into Satan’s room like it didn’t have a care in the world, it began to bat at one of the loose papers that had been scattered around the floor. Detective Toe Beans, you’re an esteemed detective, and technically RAD’s mascot, stop that!

Satan scooped up the cat and began to put the books back in the pile, when Lucifer noticed a familiar, beat-up old book lying near the bottom of the pile.

“Ah, I remember this book,” Lucifer leaned down and picked it up, showing the cover to L!MC, who didn’t seem very interested and continued petting the fur part of Lucifer’s jacket. “It’s good for a bedtime story, right L!MC?”

Lucifer tucked the book under his arm and turned to leave when Satan practically shot upwards. “If you think you can just take that out of my room, you’re completely delusional.”

“Are you seriously going to whine about getting a bedtime story for L!MC?”

“CAT!” L!MC looked over Lucifer’s shoulder and reached for Detective Toe Beans. “CAT!”

“Yes L!MC, cat.” Lucifer whispered to them, then turned back to Satan. “And if I’m remembering correctly, I used to read this to you. Do you really want to deprive poor L!MC of bedtime stories from me?”

“Pff... deprive...” Satan rolled his eyes and huffed. “I’d be saving them. You were the only one who never did any voices for the characters, I was bored to sleep.”

Satan walked forward and swiped the book from Lucifer. “If anyone’s reading L!MC a bedtime story, it should be me. I’m twice the storyteller you’ll ever be.”

Lucifer scoffed. “Ridiculous. We’ll both read L!MC a story and they can tell us who did best when they get back to normal.”

“Fine by me.”

The three (four if you count Bean) were soon seated on the couch in Lucifer’s room. Lucifer took the first story.

Satan listened along and absentmindedly pet Bean, hearing a story he had heard over and over again had managed to bring back memories of a time where he had significantly less control over his wrath. Every night he’d demand a bedtime story or he’d throw a tantrum unlike anything the Devildom had ever seen.

The eldest was always there to swoop in and read Satan a story whenever the little ball of seething rage looked ready to kill the unfortunate brother who told him it was bedtime.

It had gotten to the point that Satan could recite most of the stories in the book completely by heart. He chuckled under his breath as he remembered the time he matter of factly told Lucifer that he’d be reading him the bedtime story that night and proceeded to pretend to read the story of The Hydra and the Pufferfish. He hadn’t actually learned to read, much to Lucifer’s dismay, Satan just memorized what to say and when to turn the pages.

Though, it was apparently impressive enough at the time to warrant a head pat from Lucifer.

The fourth born leaned closer to Lucifer to get a better look at the book’s illustrations. They were always slightly off and strange looking, much like the pictures in the Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark book that L!MC had given Satan for his birthday.

Lucifer abruptly stopped reading.

“Why’d you stop?” Satan looked up at Lucifer, then over at L!MC. Aw... Satan didn’t even get a chance to read...

“Our audience has fallen asleep.” Lucifer stifled a yawn and prepared to close the book, Satan quickly shoved his hand on the page to stop him.

“You started reading,” Satan looked away and grumbled. “So at least finish the story...”

Lucifer smirked and opened the book back up. “If you insist, Satan.”

————————

Yayyyyy! Babies! I’m sure the three get back to normal by Monday... hopefully...

Here’s a link to the song Levi and Mammon are singing!

I hope you all enjoyed! As of the time I’m posting this, the next set of Lessons 1-5 Headcanons will be out tomorrow at 8:30 pm EST.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

COFFEE

Pairing: DBH!Connor x reader

Words: 1.228

Warnings: some cursing; just fluff

A/N: Good morning, everyone! (...or day, or night...) I just came up with this idea and well... I hope you like a bit of fluff to start the day with.

Summary: Every day, a cup of coffee waits on the desks of Hank and Gavin. As they ask Connor about it, they just get some excuse. So, one morning, they decide to follow Connor to find out why an android, who drinks no coffee at all, is eager to visit a coffee shop across the city on a daily basis.

Day 1:

"What's that shit?", Gavin called out as he saw the unknown cardboard cup on his desk.

"A coffee, detective.", Connor answered without looking up. Avoiding any other questions, Connor stood up to bring a file report to captain Fowler.

Gavin looked at Hank's abandoned desk where the same cardboard cup stood, waiting patiently to get drunk.

Day 3:

As Gavin threw his jacket on his desk, he almost knocked over the cardboard cup of coffee which stood on his table. Frowning, he took it. Connor was nowhere to be seen. Hank caught the detective's glance and raised his own cup of coffee with a shrug of his shoulder before he took a sip.

Day 6:

The weather was freezing cold and the only thing Gavin was yearning for was a cup of steaming hot coffee. While he walked to his desk, he shrugged the snow from his shoulders. Half expected and half surprised, Gavin got greeted by a cardboard cup of coffee on his desk.

The office was busily filled with colleagues and as Connor left his desk to go into the evidence room, Gavin took the chance to go over to Hank.

"What's that with the coffee every day?", he asked, "Don't tell me plastic boy is developing a crush on me."

"I really doubt that.", Hank answered and raised his own cup with the same logo. Frowning, Gavin leant against the table, taking a sip of the delicious liquid.

"What is it then?"

"I have no idea. I asked once but he just smiled as an answer.", Hank said with a shrug. From the corner of his eyes, Gavin saw the android coming back.

"Hey, tin man! What's going on with the coffees all the time?"

"Oh, uhm, nothing much. It's just a- a small courtesy because I know how much you like coffee.", Connor answered with a smile but both men heard that it was just a flimsy excuse. Connor was stammering and avoided their glances.

"Bullshit! What's the truth!", Gavin grunted with gleaming eyes.

"Cannot I just be nice?", Connor asked innocently. Fowler called Connor into his office and the android left the cops behind, still with no answer.

"I don't buy that shit.", Gavin muttered as he looked after the android. Hank did the same and nodded slowly.

"Yeah... For once, I'm on your side."

The next morning…

"So, we followed your plastic pet all the way through the city to end at this petty coffee shop? It's nothing special about it!", Gavin said, leaning with crossed arms against a corner of a house across the coffee shop as they watched Connor entering it.

"Well, the coffee is delicious. Maybe it's just that. Like he said, he's just nice-"

"Bullshit! He can't know how the coffee tastes. There must be something else!"

Without waiting for Hank, Gavin crossed the street hurriedly and closed up to the shop window. Hank followed the detective because now, he was curious as well.

"There he is.", Hank said and pointed at Connor who waited in the row to make his order. It was a small shop with one girl behind the counter. The menu on the wall announced different kinds of coffee specialities with several syrups and flavors. Also a bunch of pastries like muffins and sandwiches got offered. Just two tables were in the shop where people could sit. All in all, the coffee shop was simple and small but cute with vintage decorations from the 50s.

Then it was Connor's turn to make his order and Gavin nudged Hank for attention. Both watched the android. They couldn't understand a word but the body language told them all they needed to know. The girl's smile became bigger as she saw Connor and her eyes were shining. She laughed about something he had said and looked at the ground with reddening cheeks. She needed more time taking the order from him than from the customers before.

"Is he... Is he flirting with her?", Hank asked surprised. Gavin grinned with a smirk.

"Plastic pet has a love interest. Who had thought about that?"

Seven minutes later, she was done with the order, put caps on the two cups very slowly while her eyes were trained at Connor. Even slower, she slid the cups over the counter and Connor received them. The girl froze for a split second by surprise as his fingers brushed over her hand. Then, Connor left the shop very reluctantly. Gavin saw how the girl was looking after the android with an admiring expression before Hank pulled him behind the next corner. Connor passed them, not aware of his two colleagues but with a stupid grin on his lips.

"I knew you were lying.", Gavin said low while he leant against the wall casually and smirked as Connor turned around with a caught expression.

"Detective? Lieutenant? What are you doing here?", he asked, visibly getting nervous.

"Oh, it was just coincidence-"

"We followed you!", Gavin said and interrupted Hank's lame excuse from the start, "You shouldn't lie to us! We're cops. It was just a matter of time until we would find out the truth.", Gavin argued. Connor calmed down and offered them the cups.

"The truth about where I got your coffee from? It's no secret. The name's written on it. See?", Connor said and showed the logo of the shop. Gavin took the cup and stepped forward.

"I'm not talking about the coffee.", Gavin said and smirked again, eyeing Connor's reaction, "I'm talking about your little love interest. The real reason behind all this coffee nonsense the last few days."

Gavin watched how the soft smiling demeanor of the android faltered. He got caught and Gavin knew that.

"M-my love- what?", Connor stammered.

"Don't act stupid-", Gavin said but this time, Hank intervened and stepped between Gavin and Connor.

"What Reed tries to say is that we saw you and the girl. You were flirting with her. And... You know... Stop buying coffee for us and just ask her out."

"I.. I shall ask her out? But I can't! She could say no.", Connor said insecurely. Gavin rolled with his eyes and was about to say something but Hank stopped him.

"She won't say no. We have seen you two. Trust me. She will definitely say yes.", Hank said encouragingly and shoved his partner back to the door of the shop. Connor looked at the two men, both were nodding, Gavin with an annoyed expression but also encouraging, before he entered the store.

Hank and Gavin closed up to the former spot on the shop window to watch the following scene. The girl behind the counter was clearly confused and surprised to see Connor again. Connor seemed to be nervous and started to fumble with the rim of his jacket but after one very long minute, a huge smile spread on the girl's lips. Her eyes were sparkling and she nodded several times before Connor said goodbye and left the shop.

"And?", Hank and Gavin asked at the same time as Connor joined his colleagues on the street. The smile on Connor's lips was already giving away the answer.

"She said yes. We go out tonight.", Connor said joyfully. Hank patted him proudly on the shoulder and even Gavin smiled appreciative before he took a huge sip of his delicious coffee.

[hetalia-has-a-secretary]

maybe the cuddle hcs for America, Russia, China? uwu

Yay! A request! I have been in the need for some cuddles so this shall be easy and fun!

Cuddles w/ America, China, And Russia!

America:

America is a low temperature cuddler. He gets the chills pretty often so when he finds he can trust you be prepared for lots of cuddles!

Even though his body temperature is sometimes low, being next to someone else seems to circulate the perfect amount of heat between the cuddler and cuddle receiver

He likes to be the big spoon

Clingy ™️

His arms will wrap around your waist and you'll probably feel his breath against your upper back or neck as he shivers for a few seconds

You can always tell when he gets comfortable because his vice like grip around your waist will soften and he'll give a big ol content sigh!

He doesn't care how long you two cuddle for, he just asks you warm him up for a few minutes!

Location doesn't matter

Be forewarned! He doesn't mind public affection- so expect to feel a hand around the shoulder to pull your head to his chest. This is his way of saying "I feel cold"

Bed cuddles are a thing, except he likes to lay over you as much as possible (and what you're comfortable with) these are his favorite cuddles because it's a chance to protect you at night, and he sleeps easier knowing your safe with him.

China:

His body temperature is usually in the middle.

China's cuddle sessions are usually really soft, and airy.

It's a weird mix of almost nothing being there, but all the while you can feel his grasp around your shoulders.

Face to face cuddles, with some hair/face stroking.

Be careful though, because once he has you, chances are he'll use this opportunity to fawn over you! And if you fluster easily it's just an added bonus to shower you with positive affirmations.

The odd thing about China's cuddles is they're spontaneous, and so long neither of you are not doing anything important, it's a 50/50 guess as to when.

He has this amazing garden near his house, and loves taking you to this one spot that is secluded from everything. It's an amazing place to go and cuddle if you're suffering from any mental illness (es) as well!

Tea is also usually involved with cuddle sessions. "Something to warm the heart, and something to warm the soul" as he says.

Bed time cuddles are even more relaxing. It's also odd because at some point china's scent goes from soft fabrics to a very sleepy vanilla.

Either way you two are victim to the Unraveling Knot cuddling. You'll be going to bed in each other's arms, but on opposite sides of the mattress by morning. An amazing deal for early risers, or those who wanna sleep in. On occasion though, he'll talk you into cuddling up again before breakfast.

Russia:

Being alone for so long has made this boy very clingy and affectionate. He's not very hadsy when cuddling, he just wants you close

Body temp wise, however, Russia will go from almost chilly to really warm really quick. Sometimes it's because he's flustered, but most of the time it's just because his body heats up when he's truly happy. So don't plan on overloading your bed with blankets. You might not need them

Feet cold ™️

His favorite positions are the Tangle, Big spoon, the nuzzle, and the shingle.

Though he's really okay with whatever position you want so long your touching in some way.

He's also the type to throw caution to the wind and will straight up ask (and sometimes playfully "hint" at it) to cuddle. Will ask you quite literally anywhere at anytime, but will wait until you two are home or can find a secluded area.

Lots of cuddles as well.

He's in his office working? Sit in his lap and play on your phone.

He's also does this thing where if he catches you laying down, or if you haven't gotten out of bed when he does, he will seek you out like a heat missile and just plop himself over you. Very childish energy and he's extremely playful at that exact moment.

He's painfully gentle when he cuddles as well. You'll have to coax him out of his shell the first few times to hold you tighter if you want him too.

Lots of head strokes, and cuddle sessions often start off and or end with him sitting on your legs or lower back to give you a back massage.

Bedtime cuddles can be a bit difficult sometimes. Russia just always seems to want a completely different position than you do. But do not fret-

There is always compromise in bed. Even if it means sometimes going your own way. Yet somehow he worms his way over to you and lays his head on your shoulder, careful not to disturb you.

[whataboutmyfries]

Russian Roulette

Hello hello!!!! I finished this chapter at 1.30 am and was too tired to put it up then, but AHHHH I’m so excited for you to read this one ;) lots of pining, a little magic and the boys generally being idiots.

All credits to @lumosinlove​ Thank youuuuuuuu <3

tws in the tags!

~

Chapter 3

Logan sighed, his hair still damp from his shower. He’d always showered after a job. It helped him feel cleaner somehow. He kicked his feet up onto the table, texting Finn about his whereabouts and what he wanted for dinner. He paused, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. 

He received Finn’s reply a few minutes later; Meet me outside, there’s something I want to show you. 

Logan perked up at that, shopping his gun into the back of his jeans, tugging the oversized hoodie down over his ass to cover it up. Hr grabbed his coat, snagging Finn one of those cola lollipops he liked so much. 

He met Finn by the car, a sleek black Lamborghini. The redhead leaned against the matte black door, his red curls slipping over his forehead as he texted somebody on his phone. 

“Wanna tell me where we’re going yet?” Logan asked, quirking an eyebrow as he sauntered over to his….friend. Finn’s head snapped up, his expression melting into an easy smile when he saw Logan walking over. 

“Not yet. Get in.” Finn said, ducking into the driver’s seat. Logan walked over to the other side, his lips quirking up in a ghost of a smile when he saw the milkshake Finn had got him. The man in question looked over, huffing a small laugh when he saw Logan looking. 

“It’s chocolate. With extra whipped cream and chocolate sauce on top.” 

Logan’s heart stuttered. Finn had noticed. Not just noticed, but memorised his order. He shoved away the wave of overwhelming feeling that threatened to swallow him whole and picked up the cup. His eyes fell shut at the first sip of cold against his throat. 

He’d always gravitated towards the sickly sweet. Tooth-rottingly sugary cakes and coffees and pancakes. Maybe it was to fight the bitter darkness that roiled inside him, maybe it was because he liked the juxtaposition of a vicious criminal digging into a tub of ice cream, or maybe it was simply because he’d liked the sugar. 

He was glad to be the one sitting in the passenger seat. He had a perfect view of Finn, a hand resting casually on the wheel, the other resting on the windowsill, scarred fingers tangled in the mess of curls. Maybe Logan liked sweet because of the way the sunlight hit Finn’s eye’s the brown looking like molten chocolate and warm coffee, the way the rays danced through his hair making it look like spun sugar, those lips gleaming like— Logan snapped out of his thoughts, choking a little on his milkshake, He turned away resolutely, turning to fiddle with the radio instead. He leaned forward, reaching out for the volume button when he felt something jab into his thigh. 

Logan frowned, leaning back to pull the lollipop from his pocket, nudging Finn’s shoulder with it until he laughed and plucked it out of Logan’s fingers. 

“Thank you, Tremz, I love these. Unwrap it for me?” Finn chuckled, the infernal candy hanging between his fingers like those cigarettes he occasionally smoked. 

Logan rolled his eyes, grabbing it and ripping the plastic off. “A Big boy mob boss, but he still can’t unwrap his own lollipops. What would your associates say?” He teased, putting the candy into Finn’s waiting mouth. The slight brush of his fingers against his friend’s lips made his heart clench, and he pulled away quickly, his cheeks heating up. 

Finn laughed, flicking his tongue around the sweet, pulling the car into an underground parking lot. Logan raised an eyebrow, turning to look at Finn. His eyes crinkled as he pulled the keys out of the ignition, straightening his sweater as he stepped out of the car. 

“Wait and watch.” 

~

As it turned out, Finn had taken Logan to a park, the easy winds of spring spreading the smell of churros through the air. Logan smiled as Finn walked them both to the churro truck, grinning at June as he ordered their usual— churros drowning in Nutella. 

Logan zoned out of Finn and June’s animated conversation, choosing to ignore their not-so-subtle flirtation in favour of looking around the park. It was a gorgeous day; people walked their dogs or lounged on benches, and Logan idly mused about what life would be like if it were so bloody normal. 

He sighed, blocking out June’s tinkling laugh as he ran a hand through his hair. Sometimes he wondered what his life would’ve been like had he not been thrust into this one. It was his father’s fault, really, taking loan after loan after loan from the snakes to keep his family alive. Logan almost scoffed aloud; family? More like drinking habit. Marius had tried, he really had, but it hadn’t been enough. What little savings they’s had after Marius had lost his job had quickly sputtered out, leaving them with little to no choices. And damn him if Logan were to ever allow his sisters to sell their bodies on the streets. 

And when money from the loans had run out, well, the snakes had come to collect a debt. 

Logan rubbed unconsciously at the scar tissue on his thigh, cringing a little at the memory of Crouch junior’s knife tearing through his leg, skin and muscle ripping under the vicious blade. Logan carried the scar proudly. He had fought like hell to keep his sisters and his mother safe, and damn if he wasn’t proud of the badge he wore as a testament to the fact. 

“Thanks, Junebug! We’ll see you around!” Finn called, nudging Logan with a shoulder. “Shall we?” 

Logan swallowed the hurt that rose in his throat, smiling at Finn as he grabbed a churro. 

“Tell me where we’re going yet?” Logan asked, licking a spot of Nutella off his pinky. 

Finn smiled. “Almost there.”

Logan’t interest piqued when Finn led him to a crowd gathered seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Logan raised an eyebrow at Finn.

The redhead winked. “Consider it an early Christmas present”

“Harz, it’s May” 

Finn waved him off, shoving a dripping churro into his mouth “Go see” he said, the words a little muffled through the food. 

Logan skirted through the crowd, finding his was to the front. 

Oh.

Oh.

Logan’s heart all but dropped out of his chest. He’d never been so glad for his penchant for subtle disguises. His baseball cap pulled low, the aviators hiding most of the top half of his face. He was almost positive he wouldn’t be recognised. 

But then Leo looked up.

And the whole world stopped. 

Leo didn’t stop his movements for even a second, his fingers flipping the cards swiftly, his lips never stopping the sweet sweet illusion he was spinning for the poor bastard about to lose his money. 

But he looked Logan dead in the eye and conned the man out of a full 150 dollars, grinning like the devil as he did it. The man walked away down 150 bucks and a watch. 

“How about that gentleman there? Would you like to try, sir? Maybe lady luck will favour you this fine evening” Leo grinned, nodding in the capocrimine’s direction.

Logan smiled, letting a little of the lion show as he eased his way out of the crowd to join Leo in the middle. 

“How much would you bet, sir? 50? 100? 150?”

Logan slapped 200 dollars on the table. 

“Well well well,” Leo raised a brow. “Let’s play.” 

~

Logan tried very very hard to keep his gaze on the cards, but how could he when Leo’s nimble fingers darted around them looking ever so tantalising. Logan was utterly mesmerised, and by the time Leo asked him to find the Lady, he hadn’t the slightest clue as to where she was.

Logan picked the card closest to his hand. He’d never had a chance in hell, anyway. 

Needless to say, by the end of it, Leo had an extra two hundred dollars to his name. As Logan got up to walk away, he heard Leo call out from behind him.

“Sir! You forgot something!”

He turned to find Leo holding his wallet up with two fingers, a mischievous glint in his eye and a shit-eating grin on his face. 

Oh he was good.

Logan smiled, stalking back to him. “Ah, stupid of me. Thank you.”

Leo just winked at him as he walked off, their fingers brushing for the fraction of a section when Logan took his wallet back.

He spotted Finn amongst the people immediately, grinning like a damn fool as he walked over to him. Logan opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. 

“I know.” Finn said. “I know” 

The quiet joy in Finn’s eyes damn near killed Logan, and it was an effort of self-control to not kiss him right there. No. He was impossible. Logan could never have him. They were mob bosses. It would be hell to pay if the world ever found the one thing he’d save above all others. 

Logan ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the brown curls. He frowned at the scratch of paper under his sleeve and pulled the fabric up to find a card underneath. His breath caught, and he turned it over to find the queen of hearts sitting there.

Oh, this was going to be fun .

Logan’s grin widened at the message scrawled across the lady with thick black ink. In Leo’s slanting script it read;

Better luck next time.

[ramonadecember]

Drum roll pls.

I come bearing MANY asks about the boys. Many numbers too.

(You keep making the same mistake. Not setting a limit for me, Hunter. That’s bad 😂)

Let’s start with Theo 👀

4, 5, 7, 11, 12, 17, 19, 20, 29, 30, 39

oc asks.

one again i shall link to a (most recent, i have too many) picture Theo Hawkins, cowboy of my heart, for those who are unfamiliar. sorry so many of these revolve around Jed, he's just such a big part of Theo's life!!

--

4. Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

Starting out with a dramatic one, haha. I don’t know if it counts since like… he’s the one that made it happen, but you could say he ‘witnessed’ his bastard father’s dead body, even though he’s the one that killed him, because Theo definitely hasn’t been the same since then. If that doesn’t count, here’s a really cheesy one for you… Theo has witnessed someone loving him fully, truly, unapologetically, and despite what he sees as his many, many flaws. Theo honestly would NOT be the person he grows to be without that from Jed, and he doesn’t like to think about where he might have found himself instead.

5. On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Most likely one glove because at some point he dropped the other, bandana (50/50 if it’s his or Jed’s), cool rock or something he found on the ground, cigarettes and a matchbook.

7. Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?

Not being able to breathe (being choked, a noose around his neck, drowning), helplessness (watching as bad things happen, being held down), and howling (wolves, the wind, voices)

11. In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

The time when his father saw him with another boy. His father had always had a hunch, but never had concrete proof until then. Theo had received his fair share of beatings at his hand by that point, but that time he thought his father might actually kill him. That is in fact the night he got one of the big scars on his face.

12. In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

It would have been some time after Jed’s stint of being ‘dead,’ when they lie low in the abandoned cabin they’ve made their own. Nothing in particular happens, it’s an everyday moment of sitting at the kitchen table or in front of the fire, but for once everything feels like it’s as it should be/was always meant to be, and Theo can’t remember being more at peace than at that moment (or at that cabin in general).

17. What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?

A knife!.vid lmfaoo. But for real, it shouldn’t count as a ‘toy,’ but Theo has always been a little hunter and wild child, it was his favorite. IF not that, probably marbles because of his love of picking up little trinkets and odds and ends (easy to snitch from places/people too).

19. What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

Hm, no clue, maybe we should ask Jed about this one… But for real, Theo like, refuses to be vulnerable, so it’s like pulling teeth to get him to open up and properly communicate. Everything is two steps forward one step back (or at times, two steps forward, three or four steps back ha…), and Theo really needs to be the one to set the pace of thing lest he start behaving like a cornered or spooked wild animal and blow up the whole ‘relationship.’ Pre-Jed, can’t really say it ‘destroyed’ any relationships since Theo wouldn’t have actually admitted to being in/considered himself to be in a relationship with anyone. But it definitely destroyed any chance of relationships happening in the first place.

20. In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?

Theo got it drilled in his head young that he’s a sorry excuse for a man, and not even a decent one. When he compares himself to others, it’s definitely a criticism toward himself. He puts himself next to the good examples in his life and always finds himself falling short. He has a hard time feeling like he’s ever good enough, or worthy of the good people surrounding him. It takes a lot of time and effort to get him to realize that maybe it’s the person who tried to tell him this that’s the problem, and not him.

29. What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?

Play music! He’s real good with a fiddle. He’d always try to go sneak off into town to see people play (Saint Denis was good for something) even if it was a bit of a hike and he wasn’t supposed to be there. Theo still likes to play, but that’s definitely not what he does. Theo takes on odd jobs and does a lot of hunting/trapping to make money to send back to his family, picks up bounty hunting for a while in there + when Jed comes into his life, and then eventually settles down into the farmer life that seemed inevitable when he was young, but no longer seems like such a bad option once he inherits the family farm.

30. What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?

It’s hard to disgust Theo, he’s usually the one disgusting other lmao (Jed CAN confirm, he’s seen his wilderness man do/eat some gross things). But one thing I can think of is chewing tobacco and the people who use it. Seems a little weird for a person that smokes, but he does not like it.

39. Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?

Animals either love adore Theo or despise him, there doesn’t seem to be in between, so yeah there’s been his fair share of bites, ranging in severity and varying in fault (maybe our little swamp boy shouldn’t have messed with that baby gator…). But the big one was the wolf attack, that one Theo didn’t provoke. The other big face scar is from that, as well as some others down his body. Nothing puts him more on edge than hearing a wolf howl in the distance, but he seems to be a magnet for the things.

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Tuesday 7 March 1837

7 ¾

12 ¼

No kiss she fondled and came to me but I would not try again last night very fine morning F49° in the sun – breakfast in ¾ hour A- read French – out at 9 ¾ - Mr. Husband here – told him how Nelsons’ man had plugged up the Library passage stove with wood – had Booth – saw the drawing of the west tower window that he got yesterday – in the stable – with Ingham and his boy at the new coach house court wall – then with Robert Mann + 3 who began preparing for the meer-tail or meer-end new clow this morning – undoing the insecure job done at 1st under Mr. Husband’s orders – with Robert till near 12 – then sauntered around the meer – met Charles Howarth taking dimensions for the meer-head clow – Mr. Husband had told him to do the grate as he thought would be best but ordered the clow too not high enough – told Charles H- what height to name it – came in about 12 ½ - wrote the above of today – A- wrong again at breakfast because I had told Cookson to look after (stir up now and then) my fire in the north parlour what a temper A- has but I will master it some way or other or give up altogether – for eighteen months to come I shall have only about four or five hundred a year to spen[d] allowing five to keep up Shibden  then I shall have about eleven hundred and afterwards as much more as the colliery will make  independent of the mill – at 1 sat down to write to Lady VC- called off to Ingham about the great main drain passage under his wall – then down with Robert Mann to the meer about getting up a largeish Elm and [busley] hazel intertwined -  Mr. and Mrs. Warburton called came about 1 50 – I came in in about ¼ hour from the time and they staid ¼ hour afterwards received them very civilly –resumed my letter at 2 ½ - had told Robert Mann my plan of stranghting the week part of the meer-embankment by playing the middle band water drift stuff against it on the brook side – till 3 ½ wrote from 3 and the 2 ends and finished my letter to Lady VC- and wrote to Mr. Robert Walker to ask if the morning Herald of Friday last was punctually sent off from his office – at any rate to send me a morning Herald of that day as I have those papers bound and should be sorry to have this year incomplete – very kind letter to Lady VC- still tethered by the leg – cannot get off before May – not sure of getting off even then – still hope to get off sometime will tell her when as soon as I know myself – she will not run off to Highlands without telling me that I may know where to direct to her – ‘Surely I shall write mote amusingly by and by; and if I do not out Herod Herod in postage, the rest may take its chance – nothing shall ever put into my head to believe, that you are not interested about me and all my concerns, at least ½ as much as I am interested about you and all yours – Half as much! some temperaments are more sanguine than others; and ½ a degree may be as much in proportion in one case, as a whole degree in another? Spite of all the pother I have (and really it is not a little) my spirit

SH:7/ML/E/20/0031

seems as if it still had all its natural elasticity, and my heart as if the chilling influence of time and worldly selfishness had left it still its natural ardour unimpaired – Buona notte! Buona notte! I still could fancy those sweet harmonies were sounding in my ears – I often think of your singing, and hope the little Vere will emulate mamma – you used to say, it was useless singing to me , for I never attended! Where is your voice now? I shall think of you at Rome – I shall think of you wherever the vox humana is most powerful to ‘bend the knotted oak’ – Have made my peace with Lady Harriet – ‘she answered my letter the veyr day after receiving it with so much real, sterling kindness, that her pp. ½ cured me of ‘la grippe’ which had kept me in bed 2 days’ – shall write to her soon – ask after everybody – it will be quite charity, my dearest Vere, to write to me during the further term of my probation here – never mind how much, or how little you write – you cannot write one syllable that will not interest me; and if you write but one, I shall value it enough to satisfy you’ – ask if the Stuart Mackenzies are to succeed the Wilmot Hortons at Ceylon – hope Mrs. Stuart M- would remember me – ask if V- is interested in the question of steam navigation to India – ‘how would you like a letter dated from the land of Gosher?’... I shall be off sometime and will tell you when as soon as I know myself – keep me in mind, and believe me always very faithfully and very affectionately yours AL-‘ had just written so far and went out at 4 – and out from then to 6 55 – a little while with Ingham at the new coach house court – then with Robert Mann + 3 getting up Elm and holly in the old hedge-row between the upper and lower brook Ing – and getting them planted (left as safe as we had time) at the ft. of the low-pool-east-embankment – ready in 5 minutes and dinner at 7 – sent off my letter to the ‘Lady Vere Cameron, Brafield house, Oulney Bucks’ and my letter to ‘Mr. Robert Walker 2 Jones Street Berkley Square London Postpaid’ – coffee till 11 ¼ - last Foreign Quarterly on Steam navigation to India tonights’ Lonson papers and article in the Gentlemen magazine (come tonight) on Toddington near Cheltenham Gloucestershire the fine gothic modern seat of Hanbury Tracey planned by himself and executed under his own direction – timber grown on the estimate and some years in seasoning – very fine day – F32° now at 11 40 pm

[wallgirl]

The Little Nereid Part 3

3600 words, part three of a six seven part fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.

Categories: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending; no NSFW content

---

              The next morning, Dynamene rose reluctantly with a sigh. She was dreading the day, although she knew that Hera’s visit would be largely uneventful, at least as far as the Nereids were concerned. The weight in her chest that had dissolved along with her corporeal form in the ocean the night before had seemingly returned whilst she slept. She rubbed below her collarbone, trying to massage the feeling away. Actaea was right; there was nothing to worry about. The visit would go the same as the several dozen that had preceded it. Hera would arrive, trade smarting words with Poseidon, then leave a few hours later in a huff. No skin off their backs.

               She finished fastening her peplos with the pins gifted to her by Actaea before heading to the door. As she grasped the doorknob, she became aware of a strangely light feeling on her wrist. Looking down, Dynamene realized that she’d forgotten to put on the bracelet Poseidon had given her. She hesitantly looked back at her jewelry stand where the bracelet sat on top in a place of honor. Should she wear it? Maybe it wasn’t appropriate to wear such an exquisite accessory every day.

               But Dynamene was unable to resist the bracelet’s gleam, and she hurried back to slip it on with careful fingers before dashing back out the door.

               Most of her sisters were already present at the dining hall, yawning and chattering over their breakfast of fruit and cakes. “Dynamene!” Eione called, waving a bunch of grapes. “We were wondering where you were! Ianeira was just about to have me fetch you. Come sit, I saved you some grapes!”

               Dynamene flitted over and drew up a chair, allowing her sister to pile her plate for her. “And this,” Eione finished, plopping a pomegranate on top. “Last one. There you are; eat up.”

               Dynamene poked at the pomegranate with a sigh. Of course, it would be a pomegranate, one of Lady Hera’s symbols. She had just begun to pull it apart when Ianeira stood up at the head of the table.

               “Hera is due to arrive in an hour. We will greet her per usual at the deck and escort her to Lord Poseidon’s quarters. After that, they are to have complete privacy. Poseidon will send for us when Lady Hera is ready to be escorted back to her chariot.”

               “We never end up escorting her, anyhow,” Eione commented after a hearty gulp of wine. “She just storms out without warning.”

               “Ideally, we will escort her,” Ianeira amended plainly. “Until then, as we completed the cleaning last night, we have some time to ourselves. We will meet on the deck to await Hera’s arrival in forty-five minutes.”

               The rest of the sisters murmured in acknowledgment before turning back to their plates. Dynamene was eyeing the pomegranate’s innards with distaste when a familiar touch fell upon her shoulder. “Are you eating that with your mouth or your eyes, Dyna?” Actaea teased her.

               “Good morning, Actaea. It’s just that I could’ve done without another reminder of Hera,” Dynamene murmured.

               Eione’s sharp ears caught it anyways. “Sorry, Dynamene,” she cuffed her good-naturedly on the arm. “I didn’t know you were dreading her visit.”

               “That’s what I came to ask you about, actually, Dynamene,” Actaea ventured. “Are you feeling better this morning? I know you were… worried about today last night.”

               “I am,” Dynamene forced an optimistic smile. “I guess I’ve just been too tense recently. I know Hera’s visit will go over just fine.”

               “I’m glad to hear it,” Actaea said, hugging her. “Alright, I’ll see you later.”

               “Yes,” Dynamene nodded. Actaea took her leave, and she allowed her shoulders to fall once more.

               “Dynamene, can I talk to you for a moment?” Ianeira called from further down the table.

               “Of course,” Dynamene rose, glad to leave the pomegranate where it lay on her plate. “What is it?”

               “Now that you’re of age, you’ll be expected to be in the rest of the group when we escort Lady Hera,” Ianeira explained. “It’s nothing difficult, as you’ll recall. We just line up, greet her, and walk her to Poseidon’s sitting room. As the eldest sister, I’ll be doing the talking.”

               Dynamene stared in shock. She had forgotten that she’d gotten out of seeing Hera, at least close-up, in the past due to her young age. But Ianeira was right. Now that she was an adult in society’s eyes, she would be expected to join her older sisters in greeting Hera as a proper lady. “I see,” she said, unable to contain her reluctance.

               “It’ll be just fine,” Ianeira soothed her. “We’ll all be right there with you. It’ll only take a few minutes, and chances are Lady Hera won’t speak to anyone besides me. You’ll be alright.”

               Dynamene took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. That was right; she would be there among the rest of her sisters. Hera wouldn’t even interact with her. Surely she could handle something this simple.

               And yet, far too soon, she found herself back on the deck, just as spotless and luminescent as they’d left it the night before, along with her sisters. She had resumed twisting her peplos with nervous hands. They had formed two lines on either side of the luxurious red carpet that had been rolled out to the grand doors, with Ianeira at their head, as the eldest, to greet Hera.

               There was the faint sound of rushing wind in the distance, and all fifty sisters immediately positioned themselves, hands clasped and heads facing forward. A speck appeared in the distance, rapidly growing larger as it approached the palace at break-neck speed. It was quickly revealed to be a large golden chariot with intricate scenes of forests and flora carved into it. Pulling the chariot with all their might was four peacocks, each many times bigger than the peacocks typically found in the mortal world. They gave a loud cry to signal the arrival of their mistress, leading the chariot to a smooth and graceful descent towards the deck.

               Hera herself stood holding the reins firmly in one hand, lifting her free arm to signal the peacocks to further slowdown. Her long chestnut hair streamed loosely from a braided updo on her head, and her peplos decorated with gold and lavender embroidery billowed in the wind. The sisters immediately dropped into deep curtsies as the chariot slid to rapid halt before them.

               “Hail, Nereids,” Hera addressed them. She tied the reins to the chariot before dismounting with a graceful jump. Dynamene always forgot just how tall and strong Hera was between visits. The goddess stood at a rather imposing six feet, and her arms were well-toned. The features of her face were proud with full lips and defined cheekbones, every inch the image of a strong Greek matriarch.

               “Greetings, Lady Hera,” Ianeira spoke, head bowed. “We are glad to receive you on this beautiful day.”

               “Yes, it was fine weather for flying,” Hera replied, taking in the impressive sight of all fifty Nereid sisters lined up perfectly. “Zeus has been in a fine mood lately. We shouldn’t see a storm for quite a while, I say.”

               “Lord Poseidon awaits in his quarters, my lady. Shall we?”

               “Yes. My brother is not known for his patience, is he? Let us go.” Hera followed Ianeira down the carpet that led the way into the palace, and the rest of the Nereids proceeded after in their two lines.

               “Hm. Not much has changed since my last visit, I see,” Hera commented, taking in the palace’s interior. “Same marble, same furniture.”

               “I daresay Lord Poseidon’s tastes are very stalwart. We do admire his practical taste,” Ianeira replied dutifully.

               “There comes a point, in matters such as these, when practicality becomes monotony,” Hera scoffed. “Perhaps I could convince him to add a dash of color. Surely he wouldn’t find cerulean an offensive hue.”

               They had almost completed their ascent to the highest tower, where Poseidon’s quarters were located, when Hera came to a halt. “One moment,” she interjected, turning around to face the Nereids.

               “Yes, my lady?” Ianeira asked.

               “Hm,” Hera took them in with her sharp eyes. “The lines are uneven this time. I nearly missed it. You, and then forty-nine in the two lines… Who is the new maiden that makes the numbers uneven?”

               Dynamene’s heart froze, as she immediately knew Hera was talking about her. Oh, why did Hera have to take notice of her today?

               “Our youngest sister, Dynamene, has joined our ranks at last. She had her coming-of-age birthday just yesterday, in fact.”

               “Dynamene?” Hera replied, as if trying to remember the name.

               Dynamene knew she was expected to come forward so Hera could pick her out of the rest of the Nereids, and she did so with a reluctant step. “I am here, my lady.”

               “Dynamene.” Hera scrutinized her briefly. “Well, then…” Hera rose one mighty arm into the air, and there was a powerful clap reminiscent of thunder. When she lowered her hand again, she held something in it. “Step forward, maiden Dynamene,” she commanded, holding the object out towards her.

               Dynamene stepped quickly to her, eyes filled with curiosity. Hera handed her the object she had summoned.

               It was a gilded pomegranate, wrapped with a golden ribbon.

               “In celebration of your coming-of-age,” Hera declared, looking down at Dynamene. “Consider this my blessing; that whatever union you should desire, and whatever union you should find yourself in, will be one of immense joy. Embrace your femininity, little Nereid; be true and loyal, and your union will be fruitful.”

               Dynamene blushed, holding the pomegranate tight. “I… I will, Lady Hera. I have only my deepest thanks to offer. I will treasure your blessing always.” She bowed deeply.

               “Be humble always, young Dynamene,” Hera finished, dismissing her with a nod. “Now, let us continue. I’m sure my brother grows more impatient by the minute.”

               Ianeira continued to lead them on, and it was just a few more hallways until they had reached the bottom of the stairs leading to those majestic mahogany doors.

               “You may leave me here, Nereids,” Hera said. “I will take myself the rest of the way.”

               “We wish you a happy visit, Lady Hera,” Ianeira bid her. Hera strode up the stairs and pushed through the doors. How Dynamene longed to see what was past them. Surely Lord Poseidon was waiting at the table in the sitting room, head resting against one hand as always, cool eyes gazing into space.

               “Dynamene,” a sharp whisper brought her back to her senses. Her sisters were all gazing at her in awe; more precisely, at the pomegranate she held in her hands.

               “A blessing from Hera? What luck,” Callianassa sighed. “She may have quite the temper, but I suppose even she has her moments of generosity.”

               “How unfair,” Thoe pouted. “Some of us came-of-age before we even came to serve at this palace. Where’s our blessings?”

               Dynamene frowned. She did appreciate Hera’s words, but the idea of any union for her seemed unconceivably far away. She rose the pomegranate up to better appreciate its sleek golden surface, so smooth and glossy that she could make out her own reflection. “If only it did me any good,” she whispered back to herself.

               A few hours later, Dynamene was weaving on the balcony, doing her best to calm herself with the focus of her work and the warmth of the sunshine. The sound of a rather harsh melody coming from behind made her stop and turn around.

               “Sorry if I’m distracting you, Dyna,” Eione sighed, lowering a reed pipe from her mouth. “Callianassa’s been teaching me to play, but I guess I’m not quite there yet.”

               “No, it’s alright. I wouldn’t mind some company, actually,” Dynamene grinned as she turned back to her loom.

               Eione hopped atop the balcony’s edge, settling in for a good view of the ocean and the rocky mountains that made up the other side of the landscape. “Hera’s been in there talking to Poseidon for a while now, hasn’t she? Their visits almost never reach the three-hour mark.”

               “Has it been that long already?” Dynamene asked. Perhaps her anxiety had made the time go by faster rather than slower.

               “I suppose they’re actually having a good visit for once,” Eione quipped, cracking a mischievous grin.

               As if to contradict her, the distant sound of stone cracking somewhere above rang. The sisters tensed, waiting to see if another part of the palace would collapse this time. After several seconds, Eione sighed and leaned back against the wall again. “Ah, I had to say something,” she sighed, rising her pipe back to her mouth.

               But Dynamene’s eyes were still searching the palace above, her expression wrought with concern. “You don’t think they’re going to actually fight, do you?”

               “Them, fight? No,” Eione shook her frizzy locks. “Hera’d sooner lay a golden egg in front of all of Olympus than go toe-to-toe with Poseidon. The ocean is right there, after all.” She paused for a moment, seemingly considering the pipe in her hands. “And Poseidon would sooner do the same then come to blows with Hera. It’d require too much effort.” With that, she continued to practice the melody she’d been playing earlier.

               “Mm,” Dynamene responded. She still couldn’t bring herself to look away from the highest tower. A sudden, crazy idea sprang to her mind, one that she knew she should barely entertain. But she was anxious once again, and curious on top of it. She looked down at the loom, tentatively weighing her possible choices. She abruptly stood. “You know, I don’t think being at the palace is going to soothe my nerves any until Lady Hera leaves. I’m going to go for a walk along the shoreline.”

               “Aye,” Eione nodded assent. “Best thing for calming the nerves. Be safe!”

               “Don’t worry about me!” Dynamene called back as she left the balcony. “I’m never one for risky decisions!”

               Never, except for, perhaps, what she was going to do next.

               Some time later, Dynamene knelt before one of the vents that allowed the seawater they cleaned the floors with to exit the palace. The vents led to a system of large pipes that, although they were meant to only lead water down and away, connected every area of the palace. One of those pipes connected to a vent in Lord Poseidon’s quarters; more specifically, his sitting room. Dynamene removed the grate from the vent and peered cautiously inside. The pipes were still thoroughly wet from the cleaning that had been done the day before. Leaning in, she could hear the sound of water dripping from somewhere below.

               She drew in a shaky breath. Was she really about to do this? She couldn’t even imagine the consequences of getting caught. She shuddered at what punishment might await her if she was found out.

               But, far more than being scared, she desperately wanted to know what Lord Poseidon and Lady Hera were talking about. Their conversation must be getting heated if something had been broken, as the noise from earlier seemed to indicate.

               Knowing was the only thing that stood a chance of easing the anxiety in her head and the weight in her heart.

               Making sure that no one was nearby, she quickly stripped and stowed her clothes in a nearby table drawer. This time, she reluctantly left her bracelet too; it would do no good to lose it or get it caught somewhere now.

               She stood before the vent and closed her eyes in concentration. Her body began to drip into water, starting with her fingers and toes and slowly moving up her limbs and the trunk of her body. Having completely changed into liquid form, she entered the pipe and scaled the water inside the pipes up towards Poseidon’s rooms. It was pitch dark, and she could only guess at which way to go, flowing from one dead-end to the next. After a few claustrophobic minutes, she reached the last junction and rose upwards towards a block of light. This was surely the right vent; she could hear the familiar powerful cadences of Hera’s voice.

               Her sea spirit self was not accustomed to fighting gravity for so long, and she knew it wouldn’t be long until she had exhausted all of her energy. With no other option, she reverted back to her human form, curled up just out of sight from the opening of the vent. She took a moment to catch her breath, cold water dripping down her bare skin, before stilling herself as much as possible and listening in.

               “…thousand years and you have selected no one, not even a lover.” Hera’s shadow paced back and forth across the light of the vent. “I have introduced you to countless maidens. Goddesses and princesses alike have shown interest in becoming the lady of your house. And you say nothing.”

               As expected, Poseidon was silent. Dynamene crept forward just close enough to see into the room, and brushed her wet bangs away from her eyes. Poseidon remained seated at the table, still as always, while Hera paced and gestured before him. Her chair lay in pieces next to the far wall; its destruction was no doubt the source of the crash heard earlier.

               “You live here, with fifty eligible maidens! Sisters from a respected bloodline, and sea nymphs on top! But you choose none of them either. None of them! You live with fifty unmarried young women, and not one has tempted you, Poseidon? Have you wronged Aphrodite, that the concept completely escapes you?!”

               “The concept of marriage is well-known to me, by the example set by you and your husband, among others,” Poseidon replied lowly.

               Hera either hadn’t noticed the sly insult or chose to ignore it, because she continued on as if he’d never spoken. “Here I was, thinking that perhaps you were waiting for one of the Nereids to come-of-age! But the last of the fifty Nereids has finally become a woman, and you won’t have her either!”

               Dynamene stifled a gasp, biting her knuckle. The conversation had turned to include her.

               “The Nereids serve me, and in return, I shelter them. It is a transaction, not a relationship.” Poseidon’s cold words slapped Dynamene, and she swallowed back a growing lump in her throat. Dynamene knew Poseidon was close to no one and had nobody that he considered dear to him. But the fact that after a thousand years together he considered his relationship with the Nereids one of pure business stung.

               “Don’t act so sly,” Hera shouted back. “It was I who put it in old Proteus’s head that he ought to send his daughters to serve you. Did you think the fact that fifty eligible women came to serve you was a coincidence?”

               Dynamene’s eyes darted rapidly back and forth between the two angry gods. Proteus, Old Man of the Sea, was the father of the Nereids, kind and wise. Surely he must have seen through Hera’s suggestion to her ulterior motives.

               “My arrangement with Proteus regarding the servitude of his daughters is none of your concern,” Poseidon said with finality. Dynamene couldn’t see his face from where she hid beyond the grate, but she knew him well enough to know what expression he must be wearing. She shuddered, picturing his icy glare.

               “Mark my words, brother, this won’t be the last you hear from me on this,” Hera spat, pointing at Poseidon with an accusatory finger. “The other gods will look down on our family, whispering nonsense about the strange, solitary Olympian who won’t spare a single glance at a woman. I won’t stand for it. In one month’s time, the council of the Greek pantheon will be held once again. I will arrange for you to meet with a suitable goddess then. Woe betide you if you fail to show or embarrass me once more.” With that, Hera stormed towards the doors, throwing them open hard enough that they crashed against the walls behind them, and swept out.

               There was a heavy silence in the room. Poseidon didn’t move, not one inch, from where he sat in his chair. After several seconds, he rose and approached the destroyed chair. With a sweep of his arm, the chair was fixed and upright. He remained looking down at it for a moment before taking his trident from the rack on the wall and stepping out onto his balcony. A wave of water seemingly appeared from nowhere, enveloping his form. When it had dissolved, he was gone.

               Dynamene finally let out a ragged exhale. This one was not of relief, however, but of searing pain. A sharp, warm tingle came to her eyes, and despite all of her best efforts, she began to cry. Her lower lip trembling silently, she withdrew from the grate and melted back into the water, flowing back to the room she had come from.

               Why? Why do his words hurt me so much? None of this is unexpected. Of course he would say that. It is Lord Poseidon, after all. So close, and yet so distant. He was always this way. I know this. I’ve known this for a thousand years.

               But it hurts. It hurts so much.

               Her tears intermingled with the seawater until it was impossible to tell them apart.

---

Author’s notes: Oh, Dynamene, what are you feeling? What are you thinking? And why Poseidon, of all people? Well, it’ll make a lot more sense in the next part as our leads have their first meaningful next interaction. Also teenagers am I right

I love writing Hera, she’s just such a forceful personality. She’s not a bad person, but she does have her own priorities, just like the other Olympians.

Also, the vents in the palace weren’t originally made for draining cleaning water. They were installed to prevent flooding in the palace in case of a storm coming in from the ocean. The Nereids have utilized them in their daily work rather creatively.

[coffee-cupps]

Can I ask for head canons for Bakugo (and Mirio if you will write for two characters) with a reader who has been stressed out over taking care of a sick family member (taking them to appointments, doing housework, picking up groceries). How would they react and help or comfort them? Thanks 😊 hope you have a nice day!

Ask and you shall receive my child!

@vs-redemption if anyone in your family is sick, I hope they get better soon. To anyone who’s sick or has a family member that is sick, just know that things will get better. They and you will make it through, I promise 💕. I hope everyone is well and having an amazing day!!

TW; Angst, sad Bakuhoe, sad mirio bby, sad reader, and sad author 🥺.

Keywords:

Y/N= Your Name

H/C= Hair color

H/L= Hair Length

S/C= Skin Color

S/O= Significant Other

F/M= Family Member

E/C= Eye Color

Bakugou! and Mirio! with a Stressed!; S/O that is taking care of a sick family member:

Bakugou:

At first he would have no clue what was going on with you. You two would have a scheduled date and you’d say something came up, having to cancel.

He was honestly scared that you didn’t like him anymore or worse: that you where cheating.

He didn’t say anything about it-or, he never had time to say anything about it. He would rarely see you and lately the only time he would get a chance to look at your beautiful/handsome form, it would look rugged and dirty, sacks under your eyes wile dried tears stained your face.

He only saw you late at night when you would come home to your shared apartment and immediately crash in your shared bedroom.

He wish he would understand what was going on, he was worried about you and in all honesty, he was getting pissed off.

When you left the next day, he prepped himself for the evening, practicing what he was going to say, wanting to take a calm approach to things and not scare you.

Finally, the night arrived, Bakugou slept silently on the couch till he heard the door of the apartment open slowly.

He rose slowly and looked at his beloved S/O, there (H/C), (H/L) hair frames there face perfectly and there (S/C) shone beautifully in the moonlight that ricocheted off of the counter from the open curtains.

The tall male strutted over and hugged them, placing his head on top there own head and he caressed there delicate body in his hands.’’Hey Y/N’’. His voice soothing there stress instantly as they couldn’t handle acting like they are fine.

They broke down, falling to their knees, taking Bakugou with them. He didn’t need an explanation yet, what he needed was to hold the one he loved most close to him, letting them know that he was there and that he would never let go.

You sobbed in his chest, holding handfuls of his shirt while you where at it. His large hands moved up and down on your back in a quite comforting motion as he hugged you closer to his warm frame.

‘’Babe, please’’. His voice laced with a begging tone. ‘’Please Tell me what’s wrong! Did I do something wrong? If I did, I’m so sorry; I’d never mean to hurt you”!

You froze. ‘Was he blaming himself this whole time’? “No no no honey, you didn’t do anything wrong”. You choked out a sob near the end. “It’s just- my (brother, sister, sibling, mother, father, etc.) is r-really sick and-‘’.

He cut you off with a big hug. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I was being selfish”. He whimpered as he felt a few tears strain his beautiful face. “Bakugou, please babe, it’s fine. You didn’t know”.

He only whimpered in response. “It’ll be ok, I’ll help you get through this. I know things will get better, I promise you”. His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke.

You stopped crying and grey tired quite quickly. “Thank you Bakugou”. You whispered, voice barley audible as your eyes fell shut and you fell into the world of sleep. Your boyfriend chuckled softly and used his thumb to while away one last stray tear that fell down your soft (S/C) cheeks.

He leaned over and gently kissed you on the lips before scoping you up into his strong arms and walking you to your shared bedroom where you both would finally get a decent night sleep.

Mirio:

Sweet boy would know something was instantly wrong as soon as you walked into the shared dorm room. The aura heaving off of you was heavy and cloudy while your form looked weakened and tired.

‘’Babe, a-are you ok’’? He would ask hesitantly, his smile withering away. ‘’Yeah, I’m fine honey, don’t worry about me. Just a bad day’’. He nodded, a small, reassuring smile plastered on his face as he pulled you close, petting your (H/L) (H/C) hair softly to calm you down.

You and your lovely lover sat down and shared some tea while enjoying the comfortable silence that spread throughout the dorm.

When you got home it was around 7 PM, you two had tea at 7:45, now it was 8:50 as you both shared a dinner of rice and miso soup; courteous of Mirio and his decent cooking skills.

Once you finished you helped him clean up before; -ring- -ring- -ring-; you jolted as the phone in your pocket vibrated to life. You quickly pulled it out and your eyes widened after seeing the caller ID. You looked to your sweet boyfriend with a pleading look as he nodded, saying that he will take care of things here. You smiled gratefully as you stepped out onto the patio.

Mirio cleaned the dishes before setting them in the dishwasher gently, being aware of his strength and being careful not to shatter anymore plates.

He froze as he looked at you from the patio window. He saw your hand quickly move up to cover your mouth as you quivered, tears beginning to stain your beautiful (S/C) face.

He rushed out, not caring about the plates and wrapped his strong arms around you as you sobbed in his chest.

“Y-Y/n! What’s wrong love”?! He shouted fearfully as he swiped your hair out of your face before kissing your tears. “T-they are getting worse”. You sobbed helplessly into your boyfriend’s shirt.

“Who baby? What are you talking about”? You sniffled before taking a breath to try to speak more clearly. “E-earlier today I found out that my (F/M) got s-sick a-and they just got worse’’. Your voice shook, chest heaving and body shivering.

Mirio’s usually shining face dropped. ‘’Hey hey’’. He patted your hair while pulling you closer. ‘’It’s going to be ok. I promise you’’. You sniffled and looked up at him with you (E/C) eyes.

‘’Tomorrow we can work together. We will help them together. I promise, they will get better’’. You looked down, a solemn look plastered on your face. He only softly smiled and tilted your head up.

‘’I have never lied to you’’. He mumbled and placed a soft, delicate kiss on your soft lips.

The two of you headed to bed, forgetting about the leftover dishes as Mirio instantly put you on the bed and held you close, showing as much comfort and love he could give you without being rated R.

The next morning, he woke up early; getting ready for the day before you got up. He made coffee, went out to get some donuts and finished the dishes. Of course he showers though, it was the first thing he did.

Once you woke up, you where surprised to see Mirio holding a coffee cup and a plate full of your favorite donuts. ‘’C’mon babe! Might want to go get a shower; it would be a shame if I ate these all on my own’’. You simply giggled, knowing that you would get through this, with Mirio at your side, forever.

❀⊱┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄⊰❀

I hope this was ok! I have 17 requests to do and I want to get them all done by the next 3 or 4 weeks. I’m so sorry if there are any spelling or grammatical errors, Grammarly isn’t working right now. If this isn’t how you wanted it, I’ll fix it for you!!

-☕️ℂ𝕠𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕖_ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕡𝕤☕️

[gstqaobc]

🇬🇧🇨🇦🇬🇧THE MONARCHIST LEAGUE OF CANADA 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇨🇦

MONARCHIST LEAGUE MEMBERS REMEMBER...

The League's memorial page is now online as the landing page of our website at monarchist.ca ~ special thanks to our long-time graphic designer and friend, Ted Sancton, of Studio Melrose, Montreal, for publishing it it so quickly upon the arrival of this morning's sad news..

MEMORIES OF PRINCE PHILIP John Yogis, of Halifax, writes: I was given access to The Queen and Prince Philip at various times during their 1994 Halifax visit including the State Dinner. Even though I was in the royal presence for hours I never expected to actually speak to either HM or HRH. On their last day I think I was the only photographer permitted to take pictures at a private coffee gathering following a ceremony where HRH presented Duke of Edinburgh Awards. I snapped away as he spoke to various guests, and then he surprised me by coming over and saying, “I understand you are a law professor?” I replied, “Yes, sir.” He then said, “what the hell are you doing taking pictures”? He moved on and I never had the chance to make a reply. I later realized he had been filled in by the then Chairman of the League branch. I guess that counts as part of a conversation. I must say, however, that I was pleased to get quite a few very good photos some of which I copyrighted. John Fraser, of Toronto, (sometime Master of Massey College) writes: Prince Philip came to Massey College during The Queen’s Golden Jubilee visit to Canada... The College was founded by the late Vincent Massey and its cornerstone was laid by Prince Phillip in 1962. When Philip returned in 2002...the most fun was when I took him on a tour of the quadrangle where hoping to meet him were over 300 of the College community. This included all the members of the Southam journalism fellowship.... When we approached the six journalists, I said to Himself: “Well, Sir, here are the journalism fellows.“ Prince Phillip looked at them suspiciously. He wasn’t the greatest friend the media had then — or now. “And what the devil do they do?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. “Well Sir,” I responded helpfully and enthusiastically, “they get a year off from work, they also get to study any subject the university offers and go on trips of discovery to Europe and other places .” “A bit of a holiday then, is it chaps?” asked Prince Phillip as he kept walking past the journalists who all nodded enthusiastically; but he didn’t linger to hear the answer... “....and a bit of a holiday for your victims,“ he muttered under his breath. But I heard him. The Founder recalls: I covered the Royal Homecoming of 1976 for the League’s publication, Monarchy Canada. It began in Newfoundland. On the first afternoon, Gordon Winter, the Lieutenant Governor, held a reception at Government House for the media on tour (which subsequently took us to Saskatchewan and then Alberta where HM opened the Commonwealth Games). Each of us was presented in a tented receiving line to the Royal couple by our own name and the news outlet we were representing. We were asked to move briskly through it, as The Queen and the Duke would then chat informally with us as we assembled in groups of five or six in the spacious gardens. The Queen smiled and shook my hand; but the Duke, standing next to her, maintained his grip as I began to turn away and shall we say propelled me back, turned to HM and said with great enjoyment, “Did you hear? He’s in competition with us.”  The Queen gave him what one might call her ‘O, Philip’ look, a faint half-smile. I was then released from the tent to the cool of the gardens, only to be kidded in my “group” by Charlie Lynch, the Southam correspondent and a great monarchist. Some years later, in the course of the Golden Jubilee homecoming to Canada, I took my Mother to a Garden Party at Rideau Hall to realize her life-long ambition to meet The Queen - we were presented when a League member’s diorama was given her. I had been at several events during the tour, so was not surprised when the Duke, following HM, greeted me by saying, “Ah, you again!” But my Mother was absolutely thrilled! Judy Hagen, of Courtenay, BC, writes: In the 1980's, my husband, Hon Stan Hagen, was MLA for Comox Parksville. The Queen and the Duke were staying with a friend in Parksville. There were many official functions that the Cabinet (and their wives) attended in Vancouver. At one event, there was a small gathering with the Duke and I was standing beside him. So to make small talk, I said " I believe you are staying in my area at Lady Veronica's lovely home." The Duke replies" I just go where I am told". and then he moved on. My husband was then Minister of Science and Technology so he squired the Duke around all day to show off technology at BCIT and UBC. There was a large official dinner that night. As the Duke walked slowly behind Her Majesty and the Premier, down a row of tables leading to the Head Table. the Duke spotted Stan, stepped back and whispered to him..."so you have to come to this sort of thing too!" Roddy MacKenzie, of Vancouver, writes: In 1993, I had lunch with Prince Philip at the Seaforth Armoury in Vancouver. He's the Colonel-in-Chief of the Seaforth Highlanders of Canada. Kim Campbell was with us in her capacity as Canada's Minister of Defence. Weeks later of course, she became Prime Minister... Moments before the Prince arrived, I asked Kim why she was so excited, given daily she dealt with the highest officials in Canada. She replied: "We are all just politicians Roddy. Prince Philip is ROYALTY."  When HRH arrived, I was the midpoint of the receiving line the ten of us formed to meet him. The atmosphere was stiff and formal.  When I was introduced to Prince Philip, we shook hands. Then he asked what I do when I'm not being a Seaforth.  I replied: "I'm a lawyer sir". As the Prince was about to move on, I added:  "and my wife (with whom he had just shaken hands) is a Judge." Prince Philip stopped so abruptly the senior Seaforth escorting him almost bumped into him. The Prince turned to me said with surprise: "A lawyer married to a Judge?" He paused, looked at us both, and then added: "There isn't any collusion here, is there?" Then he threw back his head and laughed, thereby breaking the formal tension in the room, and creating an amiable atmosphere. Beth McKay, of Ottawa, writes: This memory of Prince Phillip is of one of his visits to the National Capital where there was ecumenical gathering of some sort with religious leaders of many faiths. Unfortunately it was pouring rain and, in his dry humour, the Prince quipped, “Surely between the lot of you you could have done something about the weather.” One of the religious leaders quickly responded, “We’re in sales, not management !”This, brought a smile to the faces of many of those gathered there. On another occasion I had the pleasure of being introduced to Prince Philip in the Officers Mess of the Cameron Highlanders of Ottawa. At the end of his walkabout greeting everyone, he moved to sign the border of his portrait that had been hanging in the mess. When he approached he asked, “Where is the Regimental pen?” Surprisingly, the pen had disappeared . Suddenly a young officer offered his fountain pen to be used. One will never know if that pen holds a place of pride in the Officer’s home having been used to sign the portrait by the Prince or whether the original pen disappeared on purpose ! It will remain a mystery. THE ADMINISTRATOR OF THE GOVERNMENT OF CANADA Message on the Death of His Royal Highness The Duke of Edinburgh April 9, 2021 OTTAWA—Throughout his long life, His Royal Highness The Duke of Edinburgh devoted himself to the people of the Commonwealth and of Canada. He stood by Her Majesty The Queen for more than six decades, a constant and reassuring presence. He valued community, duty and service. He believed in wildlife conservation, volunteerism and supporting young people. A tireless world traveller, he showed that Canada held a special place in his heart by visiting this country more than any other. The Duke of Edinburgh leaves a legacy that has touched so many, especially the hundreds of thousands of young participants in the Duke of Edinburgh Awards program. This program, which he established in Canada more than 50 years ago, has celebrated and encouraged service and excellence among young people across the country and around the world. His Royal Highness understood we must offer the next generations opportunities to succeed, and he believed in the power of youth to change the world for the better. As a sign of our enduring respect, His Royal Highness was made the very first Extraordinary Companion of the Order of Canada in 2013, a fitting tribute for an extraordinary man. He was also invested as Commander of the Order of Military Merit, an honour that speaks directly to his own military past and his commitment to our women and men in uniform. His Royal Highness devoted his life to his family and to fulfilling his unique role in our constitutional monarchy. Whether speaking with young Canadians about their hopes and dreams, presenting colours and meeting troops at military bases and events, or representing the Crown at state occasions, Prince Philip constantly showed his commitment to Canada. He was a great friend of this country and he will be dearly missed. On behalf of all Canadians, I offer my deepest condolences to the members of the Royal Family.                                                                                                                                            Richard Wagner                               Administrator of the Government of Canada

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

[silvadraconis]

The Wandering Avenger

I finally sat down and fully fleshed out Avenger Silva servant!

( @panyum @tricketra

The Wandering Avenger, Silvana 5 star avenger

"A mage I see, to summon the likes of me, you must be wishing for Death. Come with me, together we shall build your burning pyre"

Attack: 13,224   Hp: 12,177 Grail at 14,498  Hp: 13,340 Attribute: Star Star absorb 30%     Star gen 6% Np charge attack 0.66%    Np charge DEF 5% Death rate 4%     Alignment Chaotic Evil Gender Female Traits: Female, Humanoid, Servant, Existence Outside the Domain

2 buster, 2 arts, 1 quick 5 hits on buster, 4 on arts, 4 on quick, 7 extra attack

Iter Infernum; The wandering hell

Aoe buster np Effect: Increase buster performance by 30% before damage Damage: 300-500% depending on np level Overcharge: Decrease enemy defense by 30-50% depending on overcharge and inflict burn from 1000-3000 damage

"You've laid your sins bare for all to see, now it's my turn- iter infernum!

Skills: Fury of the Forgotten Rank A:  Increases buster performance from 30-50% depending on level and crit damage from 20-30% depending on level

No Waiting at Hell's Gates Rank A+ Apply pierce invincibility, receive 10-20 stars depending on level, and increase attack from 30-50% depending on level

No Escape From Judgment Rank B Apply Invincibility and gain 20-30% np charge depending on level

Passives: Avenger Rank A Oblivion Correction Rank B Self Replenishment Mana Rank A+ Existence Outside the Domain EX Independent Action A+ Item Creation C

Silvanna, the servant that you should not know, the wandering death, set out on a mission to carve a fiery and bloody path. To bring retribution and vengeance to those who wrong innocent lives, across all worlds. Mages in particular she despises for their lack of humanity. To summon one such as she, you must be truly desperate, or foolish

The servant you should not know, a chance encounter in an impossible dreamscape, or a nightmare? She is one meant to be forgotten, to be erased from the worlds histories, that's how she is able to continue her work, least the worlds themselves strike her down, so long as the memory of her is erased, she is free to burn and bloody all those that would target the weak

Iter Infernum; The wandering hell An aoe buster np that unleashes a devastating attack from all sides, fiery spears and jets cover the area, grouping the enemies together before being sliced clean from her blade of fire

"You thought you could escape your punishment? There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, I will always find you, and finish the job"

No escape from Judgment No matter the cost to herself, no matter how long it takes, she will always catch her target and make them pay ""Flee all you like, I will catch you, kill me all you like, I will stand again and take your head"

Silvana speaks of hatred, of the people she despises and how she wishes the world would burn for allowing those sorts of lives to exist, but truly she cares deeply for the world and the innocent people in it, it's why she will ever continue her bloody path, destined to be forgotten, in hopes of one day maybe,,,,,

Interlude In hopes of one day the worlds and timelines no longer needing a being such as she. In hopes that she will one day be able to finally burn up and fade away without regrets

Long blond hair charred at the ends, gaunt cheeks, eyes blazing with golden fire Scars covering every inch of her A long one handed blade in one had wreathed in red and gold flames Her other formed into a claw shape, golden claws extending past her armor wreathed in fire Blackened and charred armor covers most of her body, though her boots and armor make no sound as she walks A silent death  Fanged teeth and wreaths of flame complete the monstrous picture "It takes a monster to kill a monster, and I shall become the most monstrous to rid this world of the likes of you"

Level up "Yesss, continue to feed my everlasting flames"

Ascension 1 "Haha, truly you wish to hasten your burning, very well then, lets see how far you are willing to spread the fires of vengeance"

Ascension 2 "Hmph, truly you must be dense, to hasten your end so, still, it amuses me, continue, and perhaps i shall delay your death another day"

Ascension 3 "Close now, can you feel the heat licking at your soul?"

Ascension 4 "Well well, truly you wish to see this fire burn out the darkest corners of the world? Very well then, we shall journey together and carve this bloody and burning path!"

Bond 1 "Hmpf, you are a fool to have summoned me"

Bond 2 "Go now little imp, fetch me- eh? Why imp? Why not, for you to associate with a hell bringer like me, then you must enjoy it here"

Bond 3 "*sigh* I realize it is cold but my fires are not to serve as your personal heater!...well, it wouldn't do to have you expire before i can burn you myself, come closer then, take care to not get immolated" 

Bond 4 "You really are such a stubborn master, i look forward to your day of death, the look you give me will be so sweet"

Bond 5 "You will not fall to hell until I allow it my master, it will be I who shall carry your soul to that burning pit, I will allow no other, Trust in me, and I will ravage and burn with you for as long as you have need of these searing flames"

Likes:  "Hmmm? What I like? Why, seeing the souls of the damned burn of course! Hahaha! Eh-? Not that? Something normal, hmmm, I suppose I’m fond of oranges"

Dislikes "Those who abuse their power, those who stand in the way of justice, cowards, and, I'm not fond of spicy food"

Conversion 1 "~hmm, hmm hmm hmmm~ oh? It seems you caught me singing master, what sort of death would you like today?"

Conversation 2 "Ah these white walls infuriate me so, I wish to burn and ravage, and these damned walls get soot everywhere. Have you ever thought of painting them black instead?" 

Conversation 3 "Come master, we are going, I wish to try this, hot chocolate i've been hearing so much about! Lets see if the heat can compare to my flames!"

Conversation 4 (if you have an evil servant) "Hmmm, that one's soul is stained with the stench of sin, I look forward to reaping them oneday"

Conversation 5 (if you have an avenger) "Ahh, these worlds are indeed cruel to allow more beings such as i to exist, still though, at least i can share a kinship with their charred and blackened souls"

Conversation 6 (if you have Edmond Dantes) "Ho? I remember you, you who are wreathed in poison flames, it has been a long time since our last meeting my dear shadow. Come, let us dance together again and burn a path straight to hell!"

Event "Ahh, I hear them now, the souls waiting to be brought to the burning hell. Come! We mustn't tarry!" 

Birthday "Hahaha, it seems you have lived another year my dear master, I look forward to seeing you carve your way into the next"

Bond CE

The forgotten story An empty book, heavy and weighted with charred edges on the pages. When asked why it is empty, she smiles ruefully, stating that to her it's not, but she is destined to forever be forgotten, so please, hold onto her story that you cannot read, to remember her a little longer

Ascension 1 Burning eyes and blackened armor is all you can see, a cape of flames, face covered in shadows, head inside a hood

Ascension 2 Cape removed, you can now see her face, flames still dance around heavily around her eyes and face, still obscuring it somewhat, you can now see the sheathed blade on her hip

Ascension 3 Blade is unsheathed, and you can now see her gaunt and scarred face in all is glory, a golden fire tipped claw in the other hand, most of the fires has stopped flowing from her eyes, but there's still a small trickle

Final ascension art She sits next to a campfire, flames around her all but gone, looking all but for a weary traveler if not for the blackened armor and golden eyes

Buster attack: A strong series of attacks from her flaming sword, leaping in quickly for an overhead attack on the first before going in and slicing quickly

Arts: Fire juts up from the ground in an inferno, dealing all hits

Quick: A rain of spears made from fire pelt the target

Buster arts buster The arts card is instead replaced with a golden claw attack, swiping near the gut and face

Buster quick buster The quick card is replaced by sharp thrusting jabs with her sword instead of the usual swings

Arts quick quick After the inferno she rushes in and slashes mercilessly with her golden claw

Quick arts arts After the rain of arrows instead of the usual fire from the ground, spears of fire circle in the air and blast flames down onto the target

Extra attack Silvana rushes in with her sword before leaping back and striking with simultaneous gouts of fire from overhead and 3 spears of fire impale the target from underneath the ground