#but let us indulge in the whimsy

[worm-on-a-blog]

How many worms on strings must it take to fill a trench coat so they are able to buy a movie ticket?

spectacular question.

first we need to know the average volume of a standard worm. keeping in mind that a worm is generally less than a gram in weight, that volume could be really small if you sincerely compressed it—so for these measurements, we are assuming that none of our worms in the trench coat are compressed. we're not packing them in there like straw, they're all standing on each other's heads to puppet the trench coat.

assuming this, then, i divided up a single worm into eight segments that could each be approximated to be about the shape of a uniform cylinder, calculated the volume of each of those cylinders, and then added the total volume up. in all, our uncompressed worm came out to about 38.27 cm^3. diagram below:

(a string was used to take the circumference at the midpoint of each segment, and these were then used to calculate the diameter of each segment for the volume calculation.)

okay. we're going to say that the worms are occupying your average adult male-fit trench coat. they would be looking to fill about 80kg worth of space there, 80,000 cm^3. (1 kg = 1,000 cm^3 at human body density). but we need to subtract the legs, because they are most certainly going to have the trench coat drag on the ground. so:

one total leg would come out to about 13.488 kg of your body. double that, and we are subtracting 26.976 kg from our estimated weight. they also would not fill out the hands, so we're taking off a tiny bit more in the form of 1.04 kg. we're leaving the head in the calculation, because i presume they will be filling out an inconspicuous hat too.

put together, this gives us a volume of about 51,984 cm^3, or a final answer of 1,358.35 worms to fill a trench coat!

this also means that you're able to calculate how many worms you are total so long as you know how many kg you are. take your weight in kg, convert it to cm^3 by multiplying it by 1,000, and then divide that number by 38.27. all together, i am approximately 1,306.50 worms large.

[m0e-ru]

(reading my own ao3) wow this bitch is so correct and on point i wish there was more . cmon guys look at this shit https://archiveofourown.org/series/2536405

[callimara]

Sing of Calvalia O Muse. Goddess of Remedy, in toxins and truth. Heed the wind for her whispers, how sweet her voice be. In wind chimes and whistles, the call of the void, and actions repressed. O Mania Incarnate! Bestower of Delusion! Purveyor of Whimsy! Bring to us Creativity in Thought and Expression.

A totally over-indulgent design of my sona as a Minor Goddess who works under Apollo in Jen Zee’s art style for Hades (and may expand to other Greek Mythology-based media perhaps? 👀 COUGHEpicCOUGH)

I am so not letting this go there will be MORE I VOW IT—

Including designs for the major Greek Gods perhaps?

[cozycottagetarot]

The Next Chapter Of Your Life

How To Pick A Pile:

Everyone has their own technique for choosing a 'pile'. My recommendation is to clear your mind and focus on each image for a few seconds. The image you find yourself coming back to even when you focus on the other images is the pile for you.

Quick notes on this reading:

It's a long one -- This reading is a lot longer (I think) than what I typically post. I'd appreciate any feedback on the length since it's something I'm experimenting with. The pile titles are colour-coded -- Hopefully, it helps make scrolling to the next section quicker.

Each pile references multiple scenarios -- some scenarios came through stronger than others, but I did my best to write what I was getting to be applied to situations not mentioned.

‼️ THIS READING IS MEANT FOR SELF-REFLECTION AND ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY -- While this reading does contain a bit of advice and reflective questions, IT'S IN NO WAY SHAPE OR FORM MEANT TO REPLACE PROFESSIONAL ADVICE OF ANY KIND. Please use your discretion, think carefully before you act and only take what resonates be it a little, some or none at all. (The usual disclaimer is at the bottom).

Reading Masterlist | Patreon | Paid Readings -- Open 🥂

PILE 1 (Scrapbook)

Who are you? Cards: The Poet, The Founder rev, The Queen of Roses

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

Wanting to connect or being very connected to your loving, nurturing and supportive side. You've been receiving messages or sensing that a new connection is on the horizon. Motherhood/parenthood or marriage. Seeking resolutions to a relationship. Leaving behind relationships that have been in your life forever. Giving too much to others. Ending toxic relationships. Finding or wanting freedom. Finding your voice. Finding you. Tapping into your creative side. A quest for happiness.

If none of these individual sentences resonate feel free to check out a different pile.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: The Muse, The Gambler

You will begin to bloom. Maybe not fully, but you’ll be more open to taking the necessary steps (which may feel like risk) to flourish. The end result will be you tapping into your creativity and creator energy. But also putting in the work, and changing your approach. I pulled all the cards at once so being able to take in all the cards at once, it’s this sense of making you happen. Gone will be the sense of being who you think you should or are expected to be. You’ll be gaining a new sense of self that is brighter and more wild. The risk is non-existent. It’s more perceived. It seems like a risk to indulge in the aspects of yourself that may seem like they’re more whimsy, but by actually making those things happen, you will transform into someone who can inspire themself. You won’t have to look for inspiration elsewhere, you’ll have it there within you.

How will you find success? Cards: 3 of Keys (The Chess Game), The King rev

Through changing your tactic. This chapter won’t necessarily be easy. There will be conflict with those around or above you, especially if this relates to career or relationships, possibly even both. Detach from the situation and be objective. Waiting for your opening will be the key to your success. For some, it’s a situation where everyone is only looking out for themself and I’m picking up that it's creating a stalemate. With the king reversed, you know what’s best in the situation but someone with more authority than you or a level of seniority if this is a personal relationship thinks they know better but they don’t. It’s about being firm and holding your own as well as not letting your emotions, or the part of you that’s super connected to the situation, get the best of you and influence you to make rash decisions.

Challenges you may meet: Cards: The Astronomer, The Orator, Reflection rev.

I see the biggest challenge here for you being one of mastering yourself in this next chapter. There’s a battle between your emotions and your intuition. To navigate this you need to have a conversation with yourself and determine why you’re having such strong emotions. Where are these feelings stemming from? The astronomer card is here to remind you that whatever the situation is, it’s not really about the past-- it’s not going to help you navigate this chapter. Especially if you’ve been acting according to what’s expected of you when the current/upcoming situation(s) requires you to do what is true to you. I hope I'm not repeating myself too much here, but the challenge becomes exploring the why behind the emotions so you can better make decisions and listen to your intuition. BUT, keep in mind that it doesn’t mean not to listen to your emotions at all.

Another message here is that working with other people may also show up as a challenge. There's a reminder to listen to other people's perspectives but also know that choosing to hear someone’s POV doesn’t mean you have to absorb it as yours either.

Finally, even when it gets tough, don’t doubt yourself. Take your time. It may seem like you have to have it all figured out and know what to say and which decision to make, but not really. It’s easy to feel that way when it feels like everything is at stake, but again, if you feel that way, pause and ask yourself why? Once you have your why, you can take on the world.

Lessons To Be Learned: Cards: The Painter, 8 of keys (the master artisan)

This definitely feels like it relates to career or passion projects, but of course, just adjust to your individual situation. It may or may not mean anything, but your cards have lots of florals.

Your lessons in this next chapter of life relate to learning to connect with yourself, speaking up and putting yourself out there. Your energy is one that makes me feel like you have such an amazing talent you're hesitant to embrace. You have so much to learn and just as much to offer... this is the beginning of that journey. Don’t be shy. There are opportunities out there waiting, you just have to figure out the way to pursue them that is most authentic to you. Even if it’s simply an opportunity to give love and kindness. I know I focused a lot on career and creativty, but this goes for relationships too. There is a lot of heavy energy covering this beautiful light-hearted one that just wants to break free. If you are considering going into teaching or taking up a teaching opportunity (not necessarily even in a formal education system) or enrolling in a course of some kind, I feel like this is a nod to say go for it. Especially pottery or beadwork? Trade work as well, maybe even culinary school or food-related skills. (I could be projecting there on the culinary aspect though as that's what I did and the imagery on the card reminds me of it).

Advice to take with you in this next chapter: The hound and pear (loyalty) — This card is always a bittersweet card whenever I see it. The message here is one of loyalty and friendship. A new relationship (of any kind), one founded on friendship, is precious but also delicate. Don't make irrevocable decisions based on conclusions. It must be treated with care on both sides because it can be damaged easily.

The deer and oat (healing) — Rest and recharge. Moderation and mindfulness are also key for recovering from difficult or intense situations. Ask yourself, how you can rest and nurture yourself?

The snake and fern (starting over) — it’s time to finish breaking free from the past so you can become something new. So you can return to your true self. What has protected you and brought you to this point? Are you in a position to release it? Are there any parts of your past self that you can regrow from (like snipping off part of a plant that may be unhealthy and leaving the rest so it can re-catch itself, not sure why I picked that analogy) or must you grow anew? (Planting a new seed, from the old plant. The essence is still there but a completely new plant will grow)

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

Pile 2 (Compass)

If you’re drawn to pile 1 feel free to check that out as well.

Who are you? Cards: The Oracle of Delphi, the Sentinel, the Forgotten

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

Intuitive. Connected to a higher power. Diety work. Past lives. Psychic powers. Perseverance. Fighting back. Confidence threatening to become arrogance. Dominance dancing on the lines of domineering. A force to be reckoned with. Someone who's sometimes brash. Amor fati (love of fate). An academic. Dreamlight Valley. Self-esteem issues (past or present). Someone who was looked past and from it learned not to try. Fear. Anxiety. A lost soul stumbling in the dark. Chaos. Morally grey. *You may be an avid reader or enjoy fantasy media as well.

My Overall Impression: You’re a force to be reckoned with and reckon you will. Your energy is just pure power and chaos. I low-key feel like you’re battling with life/the universe (call it what you prefer, that’s just how I prefer to call it). There’s this energy of "Try me" and the universe is like "I got one for you, watch and see". But there’s no malice. I just get fed-up vibes from you and the response from life is like "Okay 👀, but chill." Enemies to lovers with life itself.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: The Ark of the Covenant, Beith — Birth, The Queen, The Assassin

The Queen and The Assassin flew out with such fury! You’re going to become someone worthy of wearing a crown. But it comes at a price, though it’s not one you can sit around and sulk about. The next chapter of your life reminds me of being forged in fire. Now you’re stepping into the role and identity of someone who can achieve your goals. It’s dark at times, but you’re gaining the skills to do what you want to do and I get the feeling this "thing" you're meant to do is one you may feel on a deep or soul level. (It is) fulfilling a higher calling or purpose. At the very least, you’re becoming someone who has decided that this is the last time they repeat a cycle.

You’re working towards something more and it feels like by the end of this chapter, you’ll be granted a brief reprieve. There’s still more work to be done though. You’re stepping into a new era where so much will grow from you. For some of you, a new romantic relationship is coming in and/or you're expanding your family-- that includes found family as well.

How will you find success?

Cards: 4 of Roses (views of the ego) the Witch. Rev

The first message that comes through is that your success lies in cutting someone off. Someone selfish and self-absorbed to be exact. It’s a relationship you’ve stayed in too long... they could have had some kind of hold over you, not necessarily in a controlling way, but they could have meant something on a deep level which could have been why you held on. You may have done a lot you’re not happy with because you’ve done it with this person in mind. Cutting ties with them grants you success as it allows you to focus on what’s truly important to you.

The other message with the witch reversed is the importance of remembering that while you’re forging your own path, it’s okay to look to others who have made it or 'gotten out'. Maybe they haven’t gone through the exact same thing, but it doesn’t mean there isn’t wisdom in the stories of others who’ve forged through and paved their own way as well. Pile one was about breaking away from the expected, but you’re being called to review what is expected and see if there’s anything worth considering. Kind of like shopping around for inspiration? You might come across someone else's story and it might spark an idea within you on how to navigate your own.

Challenges you may meet-- Cards: The Tailor Rev, The Scribe

Your challenges in this next chapter involve trying not to force your will upon the flow of your life and refining your focus. I know, I said forged in fire. There’s an imbalance of sorts... instead of firing and hoping you hit the target (your goal), you need to pause and take a good look at what’s working vs what isn’t. The 'wheel of life' worksheet/exercise comes to mind but I personally hate that exercise so much. I bring it up because it allows you to get a visual of what areas of your life you've been focusing on vs neglecting and pinpoint which areas of your life you’re lacking in. From there you can further assess and gain a better grasp on what you should be focusing on. After all, you can do anything, but you can’t do everything.

With the scribe, you may need to study or fine-tune your skills regarding a specific matter more. Here, there's something you need to learn to influence your life in the way you want, but you have to take the time to figure out what it is that you need to learn. It doesn’t have to be formal learning either. It could be something such watch a YouTube video, reading a book or article, or even taking a free online course or masterclass. Nothing is too big or too small here, as long as it's helping you to develop to get from point A to B.

Lessons To Be Learned:

Cards: 8 or scrolls (path unknown), the diviner, the puppeteer

The 8 of scrolls here reminds you that you’ve been travelling on a path where you know the outcomes, but to get to where you want to be sometimes requires walking down paths that may mean you don’t know what’s going to happen until it happens. At the same time, that’s how opportunities we didn’t know we needed arise. In the card imagery, there’s a basket next to the girl filled with scrolls, the same type of scrolls pictured in the scribe card. I think for you it’s learning the skill or information I mentioned that is going to help you feel more confident and assured on this path you’re following. You’ve got the energy of the queen archetype (regardless of gender), and though it may be a challenge, you’ve equipped yourself with the skills necessary to go after what you want. You’ll have what it takes 100% to move on to the next phase (after this one we're talking about).

The Diviner is about divine timing and evaluation. Here you’ve done all that you can with what is in your control. What’s left now is waiting for your desires outcomes to come to fruition. While you can’t rush or force things, you can make sure you set yourself up for success when you get it. So let's say you're waiting on receiving a sum of money, in the meantime you can learn/brush up on the skills to manage money etc.

Finally with the puppeteer, mending relationships could also be a lesson. Although I think it’s more about learning to interact with others better? But also remembering that sometimes apologies can mend relationships and other times they can’t. Going back to that relationship mentioned way before, it could be a matter of "are you willing to forgive the other person if they were to apologise and see the error of their ways?" (Though with the type of person mentioned that may be unlikely but, who knows).

Another possibility with the assassin card is that you may ruffle feathers at some point, so you may learn the power or limits of an apology in that sense as well.

Advice to take with you in this next chapter:

The Finch and Peach (romance) — romance is on its way to you. Things to ponder on could be: do you feel ready to welcome love into your life? What are some things that make you feel loved/how do you like to receive love?

The Marten and Foxglove (mischief) — this card asks you to stay open to opportunities that allow you to tap into your playful side, be spontaneous or travel. Ask yourself how can you make room for spontaneity? (It could be through trying new foods, reading a different genre, visiting a place you wouldn’t typically visit, changing up your daily routine etc). Also are you at a point where you can open yourself to new adventures, big or small?

The Boar and Pumpkin (confidence) — You’re not wrong to be confident in yourself, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Take a moment to acknowledge your accomplishments and think about what you’ve done that you’re proud of (doesn’t always have to be tangible, it can also be mindsets, situations you’ve walked from etc).

The Snake and Fern (starting over) — Again, if you were drawn to pile one, I suggest you check that out. Here this card nods to beginning a new and asks you to see if there are any parts of yourself you can return to, or if it’s time to completely start anew and discover yourself from scratch.

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

Pile 3 (The Trunks/Suitcase)

Who are you? Cards: The Smith, The Twins, The Lookout, The Askashic Library, 3 of Forces (Bird’s Nest)

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

The overthinker. Having a twin or prominent Gemini placements. If you're considering something you’ve been wanting to do for a while but keep putting off. A relationship with someone in which you both started on the same path but they went in another direction. Holding onto resentment. Feel like everything is up in flames. Writing. Seeking self-awareness. Manifesting. Intuitive. *Read that book you’ve been meaning to read. Needing a backup plan. Expanding. Hopeful prospects.

*If this doesn't feel like your pile, and you were eyeing pile 4, definitely check it out. This pile was actually the last I pulled and the hardest to read for and it felt like many aspects of it related to other piles as well. I recommend checking out a secondary pile in general if you were drawn to one.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: The Waker, The Runaway, The Warrior (Sorry, I forgot to write down some of the cards 🤦‍♀️, I believe it was 'Fated Meeting' and 'Queen of Scrolls')

You’re becoming someone who is becoming centred/aligned and more intuitive. Your internal world and external world are going to become more connected. Connected to your ‘higher self’ as well, it’s going to be you vs you (levelling up). You’re going to become someone who can face the things you’ve been running from head-on.

That thing you’ve been putting off, you’re going to be able to finally put into action. Coming into being filled with inspiration, clarity and direction. This is especially if you’re considering careers/education, or projects in the fields of writing, publishing, marketing, communication, counselling or teaching. If you’re seeking a mentor, this person could help guide you to becoming this way. It could also be someone in your life already that may help you who is in one of these fields.

For a select few of you, you’re becoming the version of you that was meant to meet your person. If it’s not a romantic partner, then you’re coming into contact with a soulmate (meant as someone you have a ‘soul bond’ with).

Where Will You Find Success? Cards: 4 of Keys (Clearing The Way), Reflection, The Cartographer rev, The Weaver

If you find yourself prone to many different avenues of ideas and project but never settling on one, you’re going to find your success through settling on one thing and focusing on it. It’s time for you stop buckle down and stick with one of those brilliant ideas of yours and make it happen.

Also while it may be time for you to focus on one thing professionally or creatively, when it comes to yourself, it’s time to embrace all the pieces of you that seem random. It reminds me of this post I saw a couple of days ago about how we don't have to force ourselves fit perfectly into an aesthetic... that it's okay to have and embrace parts of your personality that are completely left field of the other bits that go hand in hand. So for some of you, maybe it’s time to embrace all the pieces of you that don’t go together neatly. Maybe that’s why you have these ideas and start them and then ditch them, because you’re a multifaceted being and you’re not allowing yourself to be so and that is the way it manifests in your life? Maybe it’s time to learn how to let all the sides of you coexist without getting lost. Food for thought maybe?

Regardless, it’s time to remove distractions that are holding you back. Tap into your intuition. Become more aware of your emotions. There's a sense of self-mastery is needed here.

Challenges You May Meet? Cards: The Pathless, The Miser, 1 of Scrolls (On Track), Up In The Air, 6 of Forces (The Waterfall) rev

Your challenges kind of relate to the things that were mentioned already. Being in your head, overthinking things, being unable to settle, but also trying to avoid falling into a headspace where you’re being pessimistic and stubborn. Just because you stick to one thing doesn’t mean you can’t shift and adjust your approach. And if you find that you’re really stuck don’t be afraid to just take a step back. If this is all relating to something where other people are giving you their unsolicited advice, don’t be afraid to brush it off and say “Hey, I might have hit a block but trust that I know what I’m doing”. Another scenario is to not internalise any unsolicited advice or opinions because I feel like that could be a trigger for getting lost in your head for some of you.

For overthinking, it'll be about learning to accept that you won’t be able to know the exact outcome of certain things. If you’re working with someone else, then feeling like you are in control or that you have a say may be the challenge. For others, the challenge may simply be making the decision or committing. It could also be coming to terms with the fact that you waited so long to pursue this goal.

Lessons To Be Learned: Cards: The Brawler, The Forgotten, 2 of Roses (The Winged Messengers), Uriel and the Sphinx, the king of roses

With the Forgotten you’ll learn that you can’t be afraid of mistakes. Mistakes help you grow. You'll come to realise how much fear has been holding you back. There's also learning how to make something out of your anxiety. Learning not to run from conflict or maybe how to properly address it could also be another lesson. This could be regarding internal conflict or conflict with another person as I am getting multiple scenarios come up.

Again there's a message here that for some of a romantic suitor specifically coming in. Overall for everyone there’s an important relationship making its way into your life. The mentor shows up as a neutral energy throughout the reading (or balanced feminine and masculine). Their energy is thoughtful, nurturing/comforting and supportive.

Advice — The Goat and Willow (overdoing obstacle) — even though there are losses to suffer, you can overcome them with renewed energy and the right balance. When obstacles appear, prioritise realigning yourself with your goals. You can even get ahead of the game and brainstorm ways to handle potential obstacles before they arise. The Chipmunk and Laurel (success) — Your path to success will be a unique one, one you have to create on your own, but there will be adventures along the way. The Elk and Ash (strength) — Don’t be afraid to fight back when met with a challenge.

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

Pile 4 (The plane around the world)

CW: Brief implication of strong language

Who are you? Cards: The storyteller, the mascareri, 1 of roses (commitment), 6 of roses (the war of roses)

This pile may be the pile for you if any of the following resonates:

Someone who struggles with the 'self'. You may hide your true self and struggle to accept others' true selves. For you, you could spend a lot of time crafting your persona. For some of you you maybe in positions where you delegate to others or are responsible for others' behaviour (managerial or boss positions). Some of you could work with kids or want to work with kids. Putting on a mask. Neurodivergence. You could enjoy writing or be a writer of some kind. The arts. Struggling with a partnership (romantic or business), trying to balance honouring yourself and their wishes? Conflicted about a relationship. Feeling like there's a battle between your head vs your heart.

Who will you become throughout this next chapter? Cards: 4 of Scrolls rev (The Karmic Trenches), The Patron rev, The poet You’re becoming someone with so much to offer and is still looking to grow. However, people may want to take advantage of that. Becoming someone who doesn’t hesitate and is in love with life. Embracing that life is imperfect. Becoming more vulnerable. Finding like-minded people. Embracing happiness. Tapping into your creative spirit. There could be an ending of some kind, though you didn’t want it, it brought a world full of new opportunities. You're finally breaking a pattern but also having the awareness to know when you’re tip-toeing along the lines of going back. Coming out of the dark. This sense of being healed on multiple levels and being able to finally experience joy.

Where will you find success? Cards: The Astronomer Rev, The Hound, 5 of forces (summer/winter), 7 of keys (The Ascent) You’re going to be finding success through setting long-term goals. If this is about a financial situation especially, then also finding a balance between focusing on what is necessary and not letting the 'wishlist' desires lead you astray. It can apply to any situation in general though. Focusing on what’s necessary and the things you would like to do coming afterwards.

There's also a matter of assessing where your loyalties or priorities lie and releasing habits, relationships, and ideas that are no longer serving you. Loyalty and staying true to your word might be something you value heavily and stand by, but I also see you finding success in this next chapter of your life by realising, you know what, sometimes you have to cut your ties, count any losses and move on because staying is only doing more harm than good. For some of you who have a relationship in mind or the relationship part resonated with you, this is especially true.

Taking action in general will bring success. This chapter could either close out or begin in the summer, or summer will mark an important time for you. With the 7 of keys, your success is guaranteed as long as you put in the work.

Challenges You May Meet: Cards: The Founder, The Shepard, 3 of Scrolls (Setting Your Course), Caught in The Ruins With The Founder, a challenge you might run into is needing to put yourself before someone else who is asking you for your help, although I'm also feeling it maybe asking you to put them first. You might struggle to determine whether or not you should offer them your help. The Shepard urges you to step up and take the lead when others need guidance. However, I think the best question to ask is what kind of person do you have to show up as in order to offer them your support? And also what type of person do you have to show up as to meet your goals? I’d say make a decision on how to proceed based on whether the two can successfully coincide or not.

A lot of different situations come up in this pile— relationships, career/finance, behaviours… but the common theme here seems to come down to mindset. Whatever the situation is that has you feeling trapped, you have to realise that it’s not definitive, even if it seems that way in your head. It seems like a lot of what is going on, and what you have to overcome, is self-sabotage and realising that just because you’ve always done something a certain way or a situation has always played out that way, doesn’t mean it will always be that way. You have the power to change; the challenge here simply lies in picking yourself up and dusting yourself off. There’s so much more out there for you than what you’re seeing right now. If relocating or travelling, especially where you have to cross the ocean, is something you’re hoping to do, then the end of this chapter we’re discussing in this reading might be the beginning of that next chapter in your life.

Lessons To Be Learned: Cards: 3 of Roses (Loving Elementals), 5 of Roses (The Garden)

The lessons here are about having a sense of child like wonder, and learning to find joy and exploration in life. Being able to laugh and play and find inspiration once more. If any of you have been thinking about starting a family (not necessarily right away) then it’s likely that this chapter will set you up for that. If not then I think a matter of legacy here. Being exposed to opportunities to nurture and grow the future you desire.

You’ll learn that sometimes you are the one who has to be the catalyst to change your life. I love this line from the guidebook of my Citadel Orcale cards regarding the catalyst. It says “ You are the bolt of lightning that topples the tower”. If you think about the Tower card in the traditional tarot deck, there’s lightning striking the tower and setting it on fire. Whenever it comes up it talks about upheaval and there’s often a sense of “oh great, something’s about to come **** up my life” but maybe [we] should consider that we’re not always the tower, but instead, we are the lightning. You have to make the decision to do or become something different, even if goes against what you've always known or what everyone tells you you should do.

What’s also important is not dwelling on past mistakes or regrets, it’s about learning from what happened and using it to make a better decision. Stop doubting yourself and overthink until your head hurts. Give yourself some grace and self-compassion. Take your time, changing isn’t going to happen overnight and often times we have to adjust to who we’re allowing ourselves to become.

Advice to take with you in this next chapter:

The Bee and Pomegranate (productivity) rev — If you find yourself struggling with procrastination, don’t be afraid to rest a while before giving whatever it is another go. Consider what makes you productive as well as what you can do to change why you’re not feeling productive towards another task.

The Racoon and Sycamore (curiosity) — The time is now to do some self-exploration. Explore new interests and hobbies as well as take time to think about how you’ve evolved and how you’d like to further evolve.

The Finch and Peach (romance) — Love is on its way to you. (I did kind of feel like it’s romantic love but it wasn't a prominent message in the reading.)

The Bear and Cedar (leadership) — You’re being guided towards leadership opportunities but remember to ‘rule’ with fairness and care. Ask yourself how can you be a better leader? Who can benefit from your knowledge and experience?

If you made it this far I appreciate it. Feedback is welcomed and if there's a topic you'd like me to cover in a pac, feel free to let me know!

*** Disclaimer: All readings and tarot/blog games are for fun and entertainment purposes only. It is in no way meant to act as or replace professional advice of any kind. You know yourself and what’s going on in your life best so I ask that you trust yourself above all else. Finally please take only what resonates from the reading which may be some of it, all of it, or none at all.

[placeinthemiddleofnowhere]

Gotta be a moron to wanna be a fighter

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You’re determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he’s just some guy that’s taller than most people right? He’s probably harmless! Well, he’s a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

Warning: Drinking, sex references

AN: Thank you for being so patient, this chapter has been a long time in the making 💕 Everyone's lovely comments and beautiful art have been giving me LIFE so thank you so much for continuing on with me! Also after this chapter there will be a Chapter 5.5 so to speak that will essentially just be filth without plot so people that read the series for fluff don't need to read it 😇 and people that want more will be indulged 😈 Enjoy! x

Part 5 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

It was stupid, you were both aware of it. You’d get in trouble and be marked for life as liabilities if anyone found out, if even so much as one person saw you both and reported it back to Price. Reality was though, that neither of you could bear the thought of ending things. Sprinkle in a little hubris and it was a recipe for thinking you were above it all.

You felt secure in your hiding spot, shrouded in the bodies of the oblivious people around you, protected by the roar of the ramping conversations. Though, when it came down to it, it was more like you were the oblivious ones. All cuddled up close and murmuring to each other through an exchange of soft kisses and sweet promises that you could only hope were more than a shared dream. 

You’d leaned as far off the stool as you could, magnetised to him. Body brushing up against König every chance that you could get, running your fingers along his scar torn arm, blinking syrupy slowly up at him and simpering like an idiot. It felt like catching snowflakes in the winter. It felt like König would disappear at any moment, the dream would shatter and he’d fade away and so you had to cling to him like an anchor to keep him in place. 

You’d never felt so needy before. Especially not for someone that you held so much tension with, so much mixed emotion. Even under it all, under the whole whimsy of making plans and talking about booking quiet hotels out in the sticks, letting your heads float in the clouds, you could feel the heavy weight of the words you’d yet to let goof. What remained from that night when things had gone wrong.

No matter how much you’d thought about it, you struggled to come to a clear conclusion in your head. A way to navigate past it all - the shifting sands of your feelings. On the one hand some of it still disturbed you and gnawed at the edges of your mind and on the other, you couldn't bring yourself to think that you were much better, that you had the right to criticise him. 

You hated to think of him holding onto it all and internalising the words you’d spat out in a moment of panic. You’d made him out to be a monster while your hands were just as bloody as his, you’d acted as if yours dripped righteously because you’d killed your quarries quickly. It was hardly fair - though none of the situation really was.

That’s how you found yourself struggling to speak when König had finally taken the helm and steered you out of calm waters. He wasn’t going to let things go on without some assurance, he needed something from you. Needed to know it wasn’t going to fall apart. 

“Almost sounds like a fantasy doesn’t it?” König said, gazing up from his drink and back to you.

“What? Getting some time away together?”

“Mhmm,” he mused.

“We could do it you know,” you smiled. “I…actually really want this.”

He regarded you for a moment with a tilt of his head, his sculpted face set in a stony marble contemplation. He looked like he knew exactly what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t open his mouth past a small pout. He was trapped in silence until he finally took a breath and smiled weakly. 

“If we really were to do it…if we really did plan a trip together, spend the weekend away, then I need you to be honest with me. You have to tell me how you really feel about what happened.”

Now it was your turn to pause. You knew where this was going - it was inevitable. You just wished that it wasn’t and you could remain suspended in your little bubble for the rest of time, cuddled up and without a care. Even when you knew that would have been selfish, because it was easier for you to forget what happened, easier for the person that caused the hurt to move past it. 

Realistically you were never going to do that to him. Responsibility weighed heavy and it wouldn’t just disappear, you had to take a hold of it and tell König how you really felt. The only way over was through. You just had to hope that he’d have the same view on it all, that he would want to work with you on it. 

“You have to understand,” he said quietly, speaking again before you could settle on the right words, “you are the first person that I’ve had feelings for in a very long time. When you told me the other night that you thought I was acting with you, that i was this- this monster of a person, and pretending I cared, it really hurt me. Even despite the kiss we shared that night, and the things we’ve talked about even now…I need to know that you won’t run from me again. I can’t stand the thought of us taking things further and you turning your back on me because there’s a repeat of what happened - it would break me this time.”

It would break me this time.

It was like an icy wave rising out of the depths and drowning you. The cold hard realisation that you’d had more of an effect than you’d realised. König now worried - even after you telling him that you missed him more than anything - that you’d leave him just like that. Even when that was impossible. You’d agreed to meet him even after all that had happened for gods sakes, you were risking your career for him, you were ready to face Price’s wrath just for the chance to see him again and make up for everything. You weren’t giving him up.

“I don’t think you’re a monster König, I never did - even when I said all those things to you… but it’s like I said earlier, my mind isn’t completely clear on it all. There’s still things about that night that make me uncomfortable, I still don’t like picturing you doing things like that and- and well…the laughing - that still gets me,” you said with a sigh, trying your hardest not to break eye contact. “But no matter what though, no matter what has happened and what will happen - I know that I want to work through it with you. I don’t want to run, I want to be right here. I want you to trust me. I know that I fucked up telling you that I thought that badly of you and I know it’ll take some time for you to feel like you’re secure, but we can both reassure each other, yeah? We can navigate through it together because- well because it’s like you said. You have feelings for me and I- uh- I…care about you too, so so much. So much. I won’t let anything get in the way of that.” 

His face was a melting pot of emotion. The curve of his lips wobbled between a grimace and a small smile and his jaw kept clenching and unclenching as he processed what you said. He turned the words over in his mind for a minute, his face giving nothing away as he zoned out into the middle distance, transfixed on the rainbow array of bottles behind the bar. 

“So how do we move past it?” he breathed.

“I suppose we just try to talk about it more…I’m not sure it's something I’ll immediately forget about, but then I guess you won’t just forget about what I did either,” you mumbled. “We can learn from each other though, and understand each other’s perspectives. Like I said before, we can work through it all. If you want to.”

He nodded and studied the bar again, thinking deeply for a second. König’s face still didn’t betray anything, he was so good at wearing masks he barely needed the cloth to cover what he thought. His hard jaw was set and his pale blue eyes were haunting a deep space far from where you both sat. 

It was only when he finally grabbed your hand again, when he wove his work beaten fingers through yours that you knew it would be ok. You knew that he wanted this just as much as you, no matter what. He barely even had to say it, but he did, the words like honeysuckle petals softly tickling at your ears. 

“Yes, I think that you’re right. We can do this together,” he murmured, gripping your hand tightly. “You and I will make this work any way that we can. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before and I won’t give you up for anything, not for Price, not for Ghost, not for the world. You’re mine…and I will do anything to keep it that way.”

-☠️-

Barely a week after that night, you found yourself checking into a quaint little hotel in the middle of nowhere, attempting to ignore the Price shaped shadow that stained your peripheral vision. You’d packed yourself into the car and driven off with your hold all, not stopping to look back. It almost felt like you were going back to base again, as if you’d taken on another mission and you were going through the motions, that helped for most of the journey. 

It was only when the car had crunched into the gravely drive that it finally sank in that you were really going to meet König. There wasn’t going to be any interruptions or distractions, you didn’t have to silently walk past him in the hallways and feel your chest sink knowing that you couldn’t acknowledge him. It was just you and him, unfettered by rules and boundaries. 

In the mouth of the hotel reception, you’d muttered out your details to the stuffy looking woman behind the desk. She’d given you the same feeling some people must have when checking into a prison sentence. She clicked over to you in her perfectly pressed grey jacket and skirt and demanded to know if you had a booking. Her eyes roved over you, her lips pinching together when she asked why you were visiting, and you said you were just taking a trip away with a friend. She didn’t seem to like that very much. Her papery worn hand had stopped scratching down your details in her book, then she’d proceeded to continue again after a brief but unmistakable sigh. 

She was onto you. She didn’t even know you, but even she knew you were up to no good. Her beady eyes certainly betrayed her as they narrowed behind her thin gold framed glasses.

The Captain Price in your mind took on a more solid shape, made your hand shake and jingle the keys that you’d been given. What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Sergeant? You had no idea what you were doing, reason had been abandoned for a far more attractive proposition. It was only there at the desk that you realised the full weight of your decision, trying to stay calm in front of the glaring figure before you. 

You’d only gotten to leave after being strictly warned that you weren’t to disturb the other guests ‘should you and your friend spend much time in each other's rooms’. You’d nodded with a thick gulp and attempted to smile as you slunk away from her, dreaming up that she was on the phone to Price just as you were out of sight.

You were being ridiculous. 

You sighed and trailed your eyes along the yellowing floral wallpaper as you passed it, laughing softly as you realised how paranoid you were being. It was no use worrying about Price now, you’d already committed to the trip, so why torture yourself with seeing him in every nook and corner? With that in mind you walked a little more confidently across the soft pink carpet, eventually making your ascent up the groaning old stairs, keeping yourself focused on not tripping up on the runner rods. One step at a time, soldier, you’ll need those legs to lean on when you’re scrubbing toilets. 

The room you’d ended up in was exactly as you’d pictured it after seeing the rest of the hotel. It was as if you’d stepped into the past, something straight from the 1920’s with its old decor and unplaceable draft that permeated throughout the room like it was an extra feature. 

The bed looked older than you. The kind that would squeal and shout traitorously at every little movement you’d make and was topped with lacy white sheets complete with multi coloured floral quilt - it clashed with the wallpaper of course. Though it worked with the equally ugly rug in the centre of the room, mangled and worn with age, reaching out its frayed tendrils; almost touching the little desk off to the side and the wardrobe next to it. The bathroom wasn't much better either, all avocado coloured porcelain and tiny enough to accommodate a hobbit and not much more. 

It made you wonder how König was going to cope, his almost seven foot frame was going to be like something from Alice in Wonderland. You smirked at the thought and tossed your hold all on the bed, freeing your hand up so that you could fish out your phone and text the number you kept under - mother. Your Latest act of subterfuge. A way to receive messages from König without being found out. You really did feel like a kid again. 

You

You’re gonna love this place, big guy ;) 

Mother

Any more back chat about my choice and you can go another week without me

You

I’m JUST saying…it’s tiny to *me* so take that as you will 

Mother

Size isn’t everything dear ;) 

You

You’re so fuckin lame dude 

Mother

Is that any way to talk to your mother?

You found yourself cackling at his response and clamped your hand over your mouth, not wanting to draw too much attention to yourself already. The old harpy downstairs probably already thought you were both having a secret affair or something, the last thing you needed was to draw more of her ire. It wasn’t like you could go and explain to her that neither of you was spurning a partner back home, and that you were actually hiding from your Captain turned father. So really it was totally fine for you both to be sneaking around in the countryside together!

She didn’t seem like the type that would like that explanation either anyway. 

No. Reality was, you were part of one of the most elite task forces in the world, and there you were hovering above a frilly old bed about to wait for your crush coming home like a propaganda poster. When will my would-be forbidden boyfriend return from Austria? You snorted at the thought and dove into your bag, rustling around in search of your tablet. Things were bad enough without you waiting at the window with your metaphorical tail stuck in alert position - excited for König and fearful of Price and the paranoid possibility of him having a tracker on you both. 

Fuck that. You watched TV and tuned out the tinfoil hat thoughts as best as you could manage.

You didn’t have to wait long in the end anyway, not if you were honest with yourself. König had announced his arrival with a thud and an ‘ow, oida!’ and immediately you knew your man had arrived. It seemed unlikely anyone else would be in the corridor, you assumed, banging their head and shouting in German. 

Wouldn’t you know it, once you’d poked your head out of the parapet of your room door, you’d laid your eyes straight on him. You emerged from your hiding place and watched as König rubbed his head and looked at the doorway like he’d square up to it. A tiny laugh escaped before you could cover it up when you realised you’d been right all along; the place was far too small for him. 

Though he’d never admit to it - that you were sure of. He’d be folding himself in half before he’d admit to being wrong. You’d figured that out when you’d originally questioned his choice in hotel and destination. It screamed home for the geriatric: spend your last years here together, but he wouldn’t hear of it. König had been absolutely adamant he wanted a little old fashioned place out in the countryside, said it was good to stay out of the way of everyone and grant yourselves some privacy, height restrictions be damned. 

“Having trouble there, handsome?” You smirked, looking him up and down appreciatively. 

He whirled around and faced you, eyes going wide as he realised you’d been watching him. Almost instantly you were admiring him, trailing your eyes over his outfit and his perfectly exposed face. 

König was wearing his neck warmer much like usual, though it had been drawn down around his neck - likely to accommodate the nosy old gal downstairs. It fit well enough with the rest of his outfit, tan brown work jacket, white shirt and beat up jeans and boots, but it looked a little odd in the warmer weather. You could only imagine how suspicious she’d been of him, masked up and german, likely two marks against his name. She’d be calling the authorities on you in no time, the neighbourhood watch would be descending down on you from their helicopters if you misstepped even slightly.  

“I’m doing just fine, thank you,” König sniffed, leaning his arm up against the top of the doorframe.

“Really? Sure you don’t need a lil pillow or something to strap to your head? Would be a shame if you came back from your time off with brain damage,” you giggled. 

“Maybe I’ll avoid it by leaving early then shall I?” he teased, narrowing his eyes. 

“Oh c’mon, you know you can’t resist all this” you smirked, tilting your chin. “Besides, it must’ve taken ages to get that big head of yours through the front door, you can’t possibly want to leave already!”

Ignoring the string of muttered German that followed your comment, you closed the gap between you both. Before you could chicken out, you put your arms around him, embracing his big warm body like an oversized plush. König’s muscles tensed at first, reacting like you’d tased him, but he quickly relaxed, letting his own encompass your body before he kissed the top of your head and turned your mind rosy. You could swear you saw blushes of pink cross your vision, eyes clouding while your head went fuzzy.

“Missed you,” you whispered, nuzzling into his chest. “Again.”

“Mhmm, I’d say I did too, but you’ve been so condescending with me,” he murmured, descending into laughter when he caught you glaring up at him. 

“Don’t be mean!”

“Alright, alright. I missed you too! Of course I did,” he relented. “Though I think you should be nicer to me, you did make me sacrifice going back to Austria after all.”

He sighed dramatically and suddenly it was your turn to roll your eyes. He’d been trying everything to get you to go to him, but for you it was no dice. The absolute last thing you needed was for Price to see the big Austrian stamp in your passport and turn the national colours in fury. The thought alone was enough to have you going wide eyed and stiff. 

“Well I suppose I can be nicer,” you grinned, reluctantly pulling away from him. “We have got two days together, so I’ll have to convince you to stick around somehow.”

“Two whole days, my my,” he said with raised brows. “What are we gonna do with all that time?”

“For starters - hang out without a paparazzi of base personnel waiting to report on the gossip.”

“Not that that will stop them talking. I caught MacTavish over my shoulder trying to get a look at my phone the other day,” he said, shaking his head.

“Really? Did he say anything to you?” You asked, concerned that you’d have to tell him to knock it off somehow without being figured out.

“I stared back at him and he almost died of fright when he finally looked back at me,” he chuckled, his evil laugh making an appearance. “Didn’t stick around long after that.”

“For fucks sake, Soap,” you snorted. “That man’s about as subtle as a canon. Stupid prick.”

“Well what else can you expect from the 141?” König teased, preemptively retreating backwards toward his open doorway. 

“Oh, you think you’re a big man firing insults then running away do you?” You asked, folding your arms across yourself. 

“Sneaky, please - Im a very big man,” he tittered, cocking a finger gun at you as he disappeared with his oversized rucksack. “I’ll come over to your room in a minute!” 

Your earlier assessment was true enough - he was fucking lame. But nevertheless he was the man that you were risking it all for.

“Good luck getting in!” You called, retreating back to yours.

Not that it’d actually be a challenge. You’d gone as far as to ignore a direct order from Price, ignored your own wavering doubts about the darkness that he was capable of and you’d driven five hours just to see him. When it came to König you were a goner. And it was only getting clearer with time. 

-☠️-

König had indeed managed to worm his way back into your presence, no matter how much you tried to joke that you were barricading yourself in your room. However, with the promise of a scenic walking route and pub food courtesy of him, you found it in your heart to forgive his earlier comment, giving him a stern look on your way out. He was only forgiven by a slim margin you’d told him. 

However as you’d set out and begun to stretch your legs and ease out the travelling aches, you found yourself more and more surprised by how much you were enjoying yourself. The air had cleared and something in the knots of your stomach had come undone. You were Shocked that you were able to forget all about Price, all about the hazards of being together. As if work were just something from a persona that you’d shed. All responsibility and worries scattered in the breeze that shook the tall grass. 

It was easy to share his company too. It didn’t feel awkward or like you had to say anything at any particular time. It was natural, just like it was before, when you could talk to him without the threat of Price giving you the sack. Though it struck you like a slap to the face when you realised that it was one of the few rare moments you’d had to talk to each other without being a spectacle, without people watching and commenting. No Soap to tease you about it, no Ghost to pass his judgmental gaze over you both. 

That was what made it truly special, it was something just for you both. The place itself turned out to be pretty special too, it was lovely. You had to give König that - even if his hotel was haunted by its judgmental keeper. 

The trail was fairly flat, and took you through fields and backroads with only a few sloping hills here and there with plenty of streams that babbled in the backgrounds of your conversations. Eventually you’d come to a little bridge and stopped to take in the view, looking out over the cold spray of the miniature waterfall tumbling down into the river below and past the mossy banks. It rollled down the yellow-green expanse, snaking off somewhere way out to the horizon line. 

It was both a noisy, but pretty backdrop that allowed you to get plenty of sly glances in while König was distracted. Your eyes had been tracing his profile like you were trying to paint him. He’d caught you no doubt, the smile that played on his lips told you that much, but he hadn’t made any attempt to stop you looking. He kept staring at the water and had let the quiet lull in your earlier chat remain still. 

“I’ve always wondered…do you stare at lots of people like this? Or am I special?”

You blinked back at him and felt blood pool in your cheeks, racing with the rushing water. 

“Who says I’m staring at you,” you murmured, leaning against the worn wooden railing. “There’s actually a very nice tree that I’ve been admiring.”

“Oh a nice tree, hmm? I must say, I’ve been compared to a tree many times, but not an awful lot of people call me nice,” he mused, teasingly nudging your shoulder. 

“Just me and your mother?” you smirked, firing a shot back at him. 

He widened his eyes and tilted his head like a puppy, putting his hand on his chest as if he were pulling the spear you’d buried there out of himself.

“I can’t believe you’re bringing my mother into this!”

“Well, I assume she thinks you’re nice…Sure sounds like it anyway,” you said with a coy smile.

“And by that you mean…?” he asked, eyes narrowing on you. 

Your throat could’ve gone dry from the heat in König’s eyes and suddenly his intense gaze felt all too similar to the shake of a rattlesnake's tail. Had you been trying to insult him, you’d have let it die on your lips, but it wasn’t what you were thinking of doing at all. What little you knew of his past, you knew that wasn’t the sort of thing that would go down very well.

“I mean that - judging by the way you sound on the phone to her - she likes to dote on her little precious baby König,” you said with a smirk, “I can always tell when you’re on the phone to her.”

The lit fuse was snuffed out in an instant, and the look in his eyes faded from a warning and into a question. He paused a moment before he spoke again. 

“I don’t know whether to be more perturbed that you’ve been listening in on my calls, or if I’m much more interested in finding out how you can tell.”

“I haven’t been listening to your calls! You always answer your phone in front of everyone because we’re all ‘savage’ non German speakers,” you laughed, finally returning the nudge he’d given you earlier. “You make it sound like Price has me spying on you!” 

“Maybe he does,” he chuckled dryly, turning to you now. “Maybe you’re perfectly fluent in German and you’re an excellent double agent.”

“Damn it, you’ve caught me! I better tell the guys to come out of the bushes now. Quick Price, get down from that tree before you fall out of it,” you laughed in return, calling out to the fake 141 like they’d really come free from their hiding spots. 

König shook his head at you saying something about you being silly under his breath, and turned back to the water again. His body shook the fence with his weight coming to rest on it, one arm propped up so that he could reach up and hold his face in one hand, clearly not used to having it bare as he subconsciously stroked the spot where his neckwarmer would come to. He looked distant for a second, only a fleeting moment, until he swivelled his head back to you and looked at you curiously, raising his brow. 

“What is it that makes you say my mother dotes?” he finally asked, giving you a small smile. “If you really are the uncivilised non-german speaker that you claim to be.”

“First of all - you’re so rude. Secondly, its how you talk when you’re on the phone to her, even if it is in German,” you said pointedly. “Your voice always goes all soft and quiet and reassuring like you’re always trying to soothe her…Oh! And you do that thing where you answer all gentle like - ‘hallo, mama’.”

König bit his lip and held back the smile that tried to burst loose. 

“Is that really how I sound to you? Like I’m greeting a dying animal? I can’t imagine that’s very attractive.”

“It’s not like that! Your voice goes all sweet and cute,” you replied defensively, sidling up against him.

“Sweet and cute? Niemals! I am not sweet, nor cute,” he huffed, staring you down and rising to his full height. 

“You’re very sweet and cute, actually,” you huff, giving his cheek a rub before you can think twice. 

Suddenly you’re trapped between the railing and König, the wood creaking out in protest. His heavy chest trapped you fast against him and his arms locked on either side of you, straining as his hands grasped the wood tightly. His hair had fallen over his face and shadowed his eyes, giving them a menacing glint as he continued to look down at you. 

“Am I still sweet and cute?” he whispered lowly. 

You felt your face burn and your breath shudder. Tremors wracked their way through your legs and you fought to stay on level ground as he forced you down. He wasn’t being either of the aforementioned things you’d said, but he wasn’t being very scary either…

“I’m not scared of you König,” you murmured, breaking the tension and tucking back a rogue strand of his hair. “I still think you’re very sweet.”

He rolled his eyes, sighing down at you like a weary god.

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are,” You grinned. “You’re sweet to me all the time! Always making sure I have my tea and get to watch my movies even when you’re fidgeting like hell. You booked this hotel just so that we could spend time together without being in trouble at work. You watch out for me, you make me feel safe. You’re so sweet.” 

He sighed again.

“Ugh, very well then…I  suppose if you really enjoy the whole cute thing I should lean into it more, hm?” he said, a smile slowly creeping across his face. “What do you think, my precious angel? You want me to be sickly sweet with you now? Hm? My Schnuckiputzi? Schnuckiputzihasimausieerdbeertörtchen, my-”

König’s voice purred sweet and high pitched, sounding several levels of unfamiliar as he kept you smushed against the fence with his hand locked to your jaw. His lip jutted out thickly and his eyes went dopey, talking to you like you were a little kitten that he was trying to charm into his lap. It was too much for you, you were overcome with laughter and crying out as he kept up his assault, only pausing when you tried to cover his mouth with your flailing hand. 

“Oh my god, you have to stop,” you wheezed, pushing against him. “No more!

“But I’ve barely even started, Schmusebär! I could go on forever,” he laughed, voice muffled by your grasp on him.

“No, please, it’s too much!” you protested.

“Oh, so you’ve had enough? You don’t like the cute thing anymore?”

“I like when you’re cute like you, not cute like that! That’s gross,” you giggled, giving him a playful shove.

“Ok, ok! I’ll dial it back. Anything for my sweet little flower.”

You’d given him a warning look, but he didn’t look in the least bit intimidated - one of the hazards of going out with a guy built like König, he wasn’t going to be scared off by you. Although, you supposed that might’ve been a good thing too. 

At the very least he’d stopped after that and you’d enjoyed the rest of the walk in peace. Both of you had become transfixed by the sprawling deer-filled fields and the birds that flew in perfect formations shrieking above your heads. They clouded the skies and brought with them a cold wind that had begun to bite through your clothes and had you leaning into König. Your body brushed against his one time too many and eventually he just rolled his eyes and took your hand in his, firmly dragging you closer so that you could absorb his warmth. It had your heart stuttering for a few beats, still in disbelief that you were really there with him. 

-☠️-

After the walk you’d both found a place for dinner, a pub that seemed to have the same interior decorator as your hotel by the looks of it. It had the potential to be trendy with its exposed brick and old iron fireplace, though it was covered in doilies and old horrible paintings and florals - much the same as the hotel. 

Despite the gross decor, the food was delicious and the drink even more so after your long winding walk. König had ordered himself a feast, getting a steak pie, chips and mac and cheese, claiming that anything else would have him starving later on. Meanwhile you’d sat with an amazed look as you took slow bites of your burger; watching him devour all his. 

“You think that I just got to this size by magic?” he’d asked, taking a big gulp of his beer. “It takes a lot to maintain this.”

“I’m not judging, I’m just amazed that you’re actually eating all that,” you’d noted, reaching across the table to steal a bit of mac and cheese. 

“Hey! You didn’t ask if you could have any.”

“Well that’s what you get for going to dinner with someone called Sneak,” you’d chastised.

He’d made a joke about sneaking out and letting you pay for it all, but even after that you’d both melted into the warmth of the fireplace and ordered a few more beers; feeling pleasantly tipsy by the time you had decided to pay. 

The wallpaper was growing fuzzy as you’d stared ahead at it and the patterns that had been so clearly defined before were getting lost in the dim light. Your eyes flicked between the swirling shapes and staring over at König, getting lost in the features of his shadowed face, listening out to the consistent rattle of the table as König’s leg gently bounced. Your mind felt hazy, your thoughts danced like the flames reflecting throughout the room, intermingling with the tingles at the back of your skull.

I want to touch him.

I want to trace those scars, I want to feel the curve of his nose and hold his chin in my palm.

I want to hold him, I want to sit in his lap. 

I want all of him.

“Is someone a little bit of a lightweight?” he’d teased, noticing the way your eyes drooped. 

Your mouth dropped open for a second, feeling heavy as an anvil until you were able to shake yourself out of it. Everything was still fuzzy, your body felt light as a feather and cumbersome all at once. How is he able to talk in full sentences? It hadn’t occurred to you that him being almost twice your size might affect his tolerance, making it far superior to yours. 

“Not a lightweight,” you grouched, “Just- just sleepy.”

“Mhmm, I noticed that too, Bierleiche” he laughed, the sound booming rich as pure vanilla in your ears. 

“No more names!” you pouted.

“Alright, I won’t call you any more names, but I won’t buy you any more beer either. Let’s get you back.”

You’d protested at this, not really all that passionate about getting to sit up in the stiflingly warm little stoop, but not wanting to part from him quite yet. You knew for a fact that he’d be a gentleman and try to leave you and frankly, you weren’t in the mood for it. You weren’t in the mood for that at all.

However, even despite your moaning and grousing, König got you to your feet and held you up against him until he got you to the hotel. Your feet had marched noisily down the street and you’d loudly commented on the pretty stars in the sky on the way over, but as soon as you’d reached that front door it was like an instinct had flared up inside your body and you were quiet as a mouse. Even drunk, you knew not to bother the old crone that surely waited in the shadows, looking for any excuse to jump out at you.

It wasn’t until you were safely in your room, where König was depositing your flailing body into bed that you finally reneged on your vow of silence. He’d turned to leave, his hand coming down on the door handle and reminding you of a judge's gavel ready to end your time with him. You whined, scrabbling at the sheets so that you could sit up and called out to him. 

“König! You can’t go.”

“I think you’ll find that I can,” he’d snorted, tossing you a measured look.

“But, I don’t want you to,” you moaned, patting the bed next to you.

“I thought you were sleepy.”

“I was! Then we w-walked through the cold and it woke me up a bit,” you shrugged, hiccuping through the middle of your sentence. 

He sighed and tilted his head, seeming to arrive at a fork in the road. Knowing this was the case, even with your addled mind, you pulled the covers back and patted the spot next to you, doing your best to try an angelic smile. Although, it couldn’t have been half as sweet as you’d wanted it to be with your glazed over eyes and dopey grin. 

“I’m not going to do anything with you like this.”

You gasped, clutching at your neck as if there were pearls there to grasp onto.

“I’m shocked that you would incuse me of something like that!”

“Incuse?” he chuckled, letting go of the door handle.

Victory was yours. 

“I just want you to come cuddle with me for a minute,” you clarified.

He narrowed his eyes, folding his arms over his broad chest like he could scare the truth out of you. Though you were full of liquid confidence and it didn’t matter what he did, you just wanted to feel him close and have his warm body next to yours. You needed to have him for all the time that you could, grabbing onto every little moment.

“If I come over there I don’t want any funny business,” he warned. 

A light could’ve buzzed above your head, the pretend halo that you tried to manifest lighting up the room before him. 

“Cross my heart, no funny business,” you simpered.

He laughed at that and finally came over to you, shucking off his boots after you’d grumbled about shoes on the bed. He let you fold over onto him, curling up like a croissant in his arms and settling easily into your nook between his arm and chest.

Even in your clouded mind, the moment was etching itself into your core memory. The smell of hops and cold fresh air, the feel of his big arms wrapped around your body, the softness of his chest and the cotton T-shirt he wore, the feel of his zip scraping your fingers as you carelessly moved your hand to his sternum. It all compounded, had you feeling like you were in a dream, the fuzziness of your head trying to tell you that’s all it was.

“This is real isn’t it?” you asked, furrowing your brows as you put a little pressure on his chest, testing to make sure it really was him. 

“Did you take shots while I was in the toilet or something?” he laughed, bouncing your head with the force of it through his body. 

“No! It’s that - I just - I can’t believe we’re really here. It’s like you said before - It’s like a dream. And we made it come true.”

He was quiet for a second and tentatively placed his hand on the back of your head, running it over your hair and down your back. The motion completely distracted you from his silence, calming you completely and making you feel as cosy as a lap dog. Suddenly the tiredness was simmering back through your body, melting you like butter. 

“I’m happy too,” he finally said, his voice wavering a little. “Happier than I’ve been in a long time.”

“Really?”

“Why do you sound so surprised?” he asked, laughing fondly.

You shrugged with what little movement you could muster, pasted to König’s side, and bit your lip. It’s not like you wanted to lie there in a moment of pity and self deprecate, but you hadn’t had the easiest time of it together at that point. You were surprised that he was able to say that it was one of the happiest times of his life.

“Things have been hard. I guess I’m still just shocked that you’ve made such an effort to be with me. It probably would’ve been easier to pick up some someone back home and live a nice little un- umconplimicated life with them,” you said, struggling to even wrap your mouth around the word. 

Your head rattled as König’s chest bounced again, his chuckle echoing out across the room. It had you burying your burning face deeper into him, trying all you could to be able to hide your complete embarrassment. You’d prayed that it wouldn’t make him leave, make him think you were too away with it to continue on with the conversation. 

However, by that point König was quite tired too. His inhibitions were lowered and he wasn’t in the mindset to leave you alone. Instead he just rubbed your back reassuringly and sighed out the last remnants of his stolen breaths, before his body regulated and his chest rose steadily and surely again. 

“If I’d ever been capable of something like that I’m sure I would’ve tried it a while ago,” he finally said.

You frowned and, now that you were composed, swivelled your head so that you could see his face. Your eyes veered away from their place on his chest and landed straight on him, straining to see the distant look in his eyes. You bit you lip. 

“How not capable?” you murmured, still battling with recalling how to speak. 

“You remember when you first tried to talk to me surely?” he smirked, absentmindedly stroking your hair. 

“I remember…you were all grumpy, didn’t wanna talk,” you smiled, blinking slowly up at him. 

“I was just so surprised that you were talking to me, I didn’t have anything to say back. It took me off guard that I didn’t have to put on any kind of a front for you to approach. That’s usually how it goes for other people - no one comes to me unless I start pretending, unless I stop being myself, unless I make myself smaller and superficial. It’s exhausting, and I can’t maintain it for very long.”

“But then you offered to make me tea,” you reminded him, face feeling bright with the memory. “You were nice - next time I saw you.”

“I promised myself that if I saw you in the kitchen again that I would make up for appearing so rude. Then you got flustered and stared at me alot, and acted ridiculously cute and forced me to watch Rocky; so now, because you charmed me, here we are. I’m doomed to do your bidding, doomed to follow you t-”

“Hey!”

You batted his chest and did your best to sit up, clambering up his body, huffing and puffing until you were face level with the summit of him. 

“I did not force you!”

“You gave me an order,” he shot back with an eyebrow raise.

“Yeah, well you better be grateful you got that order because otherwise you wouldn't have gotten to see a cinnamonatic masterpiece!”

“Cinnamonatic? Is that how it’s said?”

“Shut up,” you groaned, collapsing back down on him, nuzzling into his collarbone.

He laughed breathily and let you settle back into him, holding you against him like a little bird that might fly away. His arms were wrapped tight around you now, and you cocooned into them, growing more and more comfortable and heavy. 

“König?” You asked quietly, breath fanning onto his neck.

You felt him shiver gently, shifting in the bed.

“Yeah?” he sighed.

“I think that most people would really like you if you were actually yourself around them. You don’t have to act around people, y’know?”

He lay there quietly, letting your words hang in the air like deadweight above your head, at first you thought that he might’ve fallen asleep, not really registering you. Though when you turned your head to look up at him, he turned his down, looking over to you soundlessly. Even in the dark, you knew his eyes were filled with a blur of memories and feelings he hadn’t even begun to tell you about yet - the things that had made him who he was. 

“One day I’ll get you to tell me why you do it,” you vowed to yourself, whispering faintly into the dark.

“Tell you what?”

König’s hearing was, as ever, sharp as a cat’s. He sounded gruff as he answered, like you were veering into territory he wasn’t going to let you explore yet. Though you were just drunk enough that you weren’t too afraid to push a little further, testing the boundaries. 

“All the things that made you afraid to be yourself.”

“Oh gott,” he sighed.

“What?”

“I left Austria and somehow still ended up in bed with Sigmund Freud,” he chuckled.

“Don’t deflect!” you moaned, yawning sleepily. 

“Apologies doctor,” he said, putting on a fake serious voice. “Perhaps I can start off by telling you about how difficult it was being moved from Austria to Germany when I was little, and tell you I was ruthlessly teased for my silly accent until I started changing it. Then we can move on to the difficult relationship I had with my stepfather and perhaps finish off with you telling me it all sounds rather like I want to sleep with one of my relatives.”

“You got teased for your accent?” you gasped, emotional and tipsy enough to almost shed a tear at the thought of little König being bullied. 

König had a habit of divulging little snippets about his past that he’d laugh about, but lamentably very little of them were ever very funny or good stories. That didn’t stop him though, tittering away as he’d told you about someone chasing him with a knife, or when he’d broken his arm after getting ganged up on in a school yard fight or even when he’d been threatened with being kicked out of the house if he didn’t go get a job - the reason he’d joined the German Army. 

“Oh don’t get all upset about it,” he groaned. “It was a very long time ago.”

“But why were people were being so mean to little König,” you protested, so choked with emotion you were speaking about him like a little cartoon protagonist. “I don’t like the thought of people being so mean to you, all your stories from when you were young are so sad!” 

“Oh you’re such a bleeding heart, how ever did you make it into the military?” he sighed, petting your head like you were little more than a mewling kitten. “Would it make you feel better if you knew that little König grew up to be bigger and taller than all of those assholes and showed them why they shouldn’t have messed with him? Would that help?”

You sniffed and thought about it for a second, imaging his sharp defined bone structure all soft and round with unshed baby fat and those hard narrowed eyes of his all sleepy and dark. He would’ve made quite the sight when he was younger you thought, the kind of face that needed to age into who he really was. A face that’d picked up scars and blemishes like little medals that appeared in certain lights. 

“It helps a little,” you huffed, running your hand up and down his chest, sliding your fingers over a rumple in his shirt. 

“What would help more? Would it help if I was cute again, would that make things better?”

“No, don’t you dare!”

“Are you sure, Schmusebär? I think it might make you feel better if I remind you that you’re my sweet perfect little baby-”

“I’m better! I feel better!” You groaned, desperately trying to cover your ears with your hands. “Not again!”

He was giggling mischievously to himself, clearly very impressed with his newfound torture technique, clutching at his chest as you wormed away and hissed at him to stop. He bit his lip and folded his arms behind his head, looking thoroughly pleased even while he stopped laughing. Apparently he was quite the gloat when he was self satisfied, and yet this - as you were to find out - wasn't even the tip of the iceberg. 

“What does Schmusebär even mean?” you sighed, screwing your face up as you waited to find out. 

“Schmusebär? Hm…it means cuddle bear,” he yawned, sounding like an old hound. 

“Aw…that actually is kind of sweet.”

“Oh? I’ll have to make sure I avoid using that then.”

“König!” you whined.

-☠️-

Going back to base after those two days together was hell. You’d hoped that König might end up being sent off somewhere else for a time. You’d practically prayed that KorTac would be needed elsewhere for once and that there was something more important than Ex Nihilo. However as with everything else your luck never struck. You were forced to remain in the same confines as him - trying  not to let your face completely betray everything that you’d gotten up to in your time together. 

However, König didn’t seem to have that agenda. Oh no. He wasn’t worried about revealing too much at all. 

About a day after you’d gotten back, you’d been training in the gym with Ghost, getting ready to be sent off on your next mission. You’d hardly even seen König at that point and after your first few hours of trying to avoid shitting yourself - thinking that someone somehow would’ve spotted you both together - you’d relaxed into the fact that everything was fine. Nobody knew about your secret rendezvous and no one ever would. Your heart could definitely resume its regular pace instead of the dizzying frenetic dance it’d decided to beat to.

You’d been running on the treadmill, maintaining a steady speed and focusing on the slap of your feet coming down heavily on the rubber - keeping time with your music. You breathed steadily, in and out, and kept your gaze mostly forward - occasionally watching to see what Ghost was doing as he piled on more and more weight to a barbell. It was therapeutic, the perfect way to forget about your little indiscretion and feel good about seeing Price next. You were practically back to normal!

All until you spotted König in the doorway. 

His dark eyes peered out at you from over his neck warmer and he had his arms folded just below the logo of his old Rammstein T-shirt. It was the same one he’d worn on the second day of your trip, the same day you’d spent holed up in your hotel room trying to find a way to take said shirt off. That wasn’t even the worst of it. When you’d glanced below the shirt, you’d come close to tripping like a cartoon when you noticed his grey sweats, ever so close to cardiac arrest. Even before he’d done anything, before he’d even properly come into the room, he was fucking you up. 

“Need something?” Ghost growled, noisily dropping the weight he’d been lifting to the ground. 

“I was going to workout,” König replied, voice sounding sour as it always did with your team. 

“Stop standing there staring like a spare prick and come in then.”

Neither man said anything after that. König narrowed his eyes at Ghost, his arms appearing as if they wanted to fly forward and choke the Lieutenant out. However, in a stunning display of restraint, he kept them at his side and walked over to the weights, depositing himself at the opposite side of his enemy. He was keeping Ghost in his eyeline, and regrettably you as well. 

Your heart had noticeably started beating faster, though it had been a while since you’d upped the setting on the treadmill. Your feet pistoned hard on the whirring machine and you were starting to feel every step, your chest aching as your breathing pattern was thrown off. You panted hard and slowed the setting way down into a bare minimum walk, grasping for your water bottle like someone crawling through the desert. 

With König’s antics you’d forgotten all about the evil red numbers that flashed on the screen in front of you, screaming out that you were falling behind your goal. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was ensuring your feet didn’t trip over each other now that you weren’t looking where you should be while you ran. Your eyes had just about popped out when you caught sight of him laying on the benchpress, you couldn’t seem to turn away, too transfixed by his powerful lifts and heavy breaths. 

After a few sets his arms were already beginning to bulge and before you could stop yourself, your mind wandered off to remembering your weekend together. The feel of his ropey arms as they supported your weight and held in you in place, thick and veiny from the effort of all the…activities you’d been getting up to. You shook your head and gulped when you almost felt your right foot falter, just about toppling your entire body like a badly built jenga tower. 

“Sneak!”

You whipped your head around at the shout and looked back at Ghost like a deer in front of a combine harvester. He’d caught you looking. You took a beat before you took your airpods from your ears, shakily setting them down onto the tray so that you could hear your Lieutenant clearly. 

“Yeah?” you asked weakly.

“Come spot me.”

Ghost had never asked for you to spot for him before. Frankly, the last thing that Ghost needed was for you to spot him. You were confident he could lift five of you in a pinch, however, you knew he wasn’t really asking because it's what he needed. He knew that you needed to keep your eyes off König - especially while Price was likely to be hanging around. 

You walked over and loomed over Ghost, nervously making sure to keep your eyes on him as much as possible.  It wasn’t like you could help them wandering a couple times, admiring the way König’s shoulder blades bunched and how his arms swelled out of his T-shirt like they were tearing free. His breath and Ghost’s intermingled, both battling for your attentions, Ghost only winning because you were sure he’d rat to Price if you were being too obvious. 

Though, when Ghost finally sat up, that’s when König decided to fight dirtier.

“Pub later?” Ghost asked, his voice disappearing somewhere in the fuzz of your mind. 

Your lungs closed off, forgetting how to expel air, holding tight onto the breath you were supposed to let go. A swell of static took over your head and your teeth ached from clenching hard watching König stand up and take his shirt off. His uncovered body betraying the signs of all that you’d done on your second day at the hotel. The distressed and unmistakable scratches that you’d littered on his back, already turning pink as they’d begun to messily heal. 

“Sneak?”

You weren’t listening to Ghost anymore, you were too busy fuming about König being so obvious. How could reveal his back like that in front of Ghost, what the fuck was he trying to prove? Your fists balled up with anger and you narrowed your eyes at him, trying to hold onto what you felt so that you wouldn’t fall to the embarrassment of knowing that your superior could see your handiwork on König’s back. 

“Fuck sake! C’mon.”

Ghost took you away, coming up behind you and shoving your back, manhandling you into the corridor. This was too familiar, you’d thought to yourself. It was just like the mission, you were going to get in trouble again, and this time it was all over - no more warnings. Everything that you’d thought was supposed to be ahead of you flashed before your eyes and you tried not to let the tears that were gathering break loose from the dam. 

Your focus trained back on ghost and your nostrils flared faster than they had while you were running. You sputtered for a second, figuring out what to say. Though, you didn’t know what to say, had no idea how to explain yourself. 

“Are you alright?” Ghost asked softly. 

You frowned, feeling as if you were suffering from a head wound. He looked down at you with soft cow eyes and touched your shoulder gently. What the hell was happening? 

“Alright? I- I’m ok,” you breathed, voice lilting as if you were asking a question.

“That was fucking classless that,” Ghost sighed.

“Classless?” you repeated, heart stopping as you wondered what he was talking about. 

“Yeah. Taking his fuckin’ kit off and showing you he’s been fucking someone else is a low blow, Sneak. You don’t have to pretend you don’t care with me. I won’t tell anyone, not about something like that.”

Oh. My. Fucking. God. 

You paused for a minute, mind catching up with what Ghost just said. He thought that König was trying to make some kind of point, to show you that he was over you. A garbled laugh tried to crawl free from your throat, but you choked it down and looked away, trying to think about anything other than the colossal misunderstanding that was taking place. 

“Yeah, I um- I… I’ll be fine, Ghost… but um- maybe I could use a minute, y’know? I’m gonna go for a shower and sort myself out and I’ll uh- I’ll see you at the pub later, right?”

He still looked concerned, but his brows lifted a little. After another reassuring pat on the shoulder he sent you on your way and walked off, leaving you stumbling back to your room like a rambling tumbleweed. You were in complete disbelief at what just happened. 

Not only did you get away with your forbidden weekend away together. Now all the guys were going to think König was fucking someone else. The perfect cover. 

You screamed with laughter into your pillow once you got back, completely disbelieving that somehow things were working out for once. Luckily for you, luckily for König especially. It was that thought that sobered up and had you narrowing your eyes at the wall in front of you. 

König was in big trouble.

Next Part Here

[regressionschool]

Help wanted:

I'm currently writing on a new story, by now it's ~ 30 pages long, I'll post the synopsis below, and I'm unsure how to finish the story. if you are interested in reading the story and then maybe helping me find a way to continue the story please message me :) Synopisis:

Oliver, a high-strung finance professional, stands outside the Playroom Café, anxiously awaiting his friend Emma. The café’s pastel décor and playful atmosphere pique his curiosity, but he feels out of place and uncertain—until Amy, the friendly café host, introduces him to the café’s unique appeal. Here, grown-ups are invited to relax in a childlike space, indulging in nostalgic comforts like coloring books, toys, and themed snacks. But Oliver soon realizes there’s more to this quirky café than meets the eye.

As he becomes immersed in the comforting environment, Oliver notices other patrons who are oddly carefree, their outfits playful, their interactions reminiscent of young children at play. When he’s invited to try on dinosaur-themed shortalls and a cozy pull-up, Oliver finds himself warming to the gentle, judgment-free atmosphere. His curiosity grows as he learns about the café’s different “tiers” of play, marked by color-coded name tags, from newcomers to “full littles”—adults who fully embrace their inner child, right down to wearing and using diapers without hesitation.

Just as Oliver begins to settle into the cozy whimsy of the café, Emma finally arrives. She catches sight of Oliver, dressed in shortalls and playfully clutching a stuffed dinosaur, a shy but content smile on his face. It’s a moment of surprise for them both—and perhaps, an invitation for Oliver to decide just how far he’s willing to let go.

[starryevermore]

head full of petals: autumnal arrival interlude ✧ eris vanserra

head full of petals ✧ an eris vanserra anthology | ao3

pairing: eris vanserra x tamlin’s sister!fem!reader

series summary: it is not easy to be a female in prythian. it is even more difficult when you’re the daughter of a high lord. the expectations are great, and the punishments for failure are even greater. all you have known for your entire life is falling in line. yet, when you are expected to marry another, you choose to do something for yourself: run into the arms of your mate. or, a series of interconnected oneshots surrounding the life and times of eris vanserra and his blossom. 

chapter summary: in which you learn that autumn is not so different from spring.

word count: 1,378

chapter warnings?: a little fluff, references to beron’s cruelty, pet name (blossom), not proofread

You held on tightly to Eris as he readied to winnow you away from your childhood home. When Beron wasn’t looking, he sent you a reassuring smile. You steadied your breathing and leaned into your mate. Tamlin was making you promise to write—he was your only brother to see you off. Just him and your mother, Merry. You tried to pretend it didn’t hurt. But even if your face did not show it, the mating bond betrayed you. Eris sent reassurance down the bond, and something that might have felt like the beginnings of love. 

And then, just like that, you were gone. 

The Forest House was suffocatingly warm when you arrived. You felt faint and leaned more into Eris’s side. His brothers that had joined on this trip to Spring, Graham and Heath, slipped away as Beron turned to focus on you. Your chin lifted, trying not to shy away under his scrutinizing gaze.

“You may have the evening and tomorrow to adjust,” he said. Beron turned to Eris. “After that, you are responsible for ensuring she acclimates.”

“Yes, Father,” Eris said, voice tight. 

It felt odd to not say anything. Though you were certain Beron was the sort of male to think females should be rarely seen and never heard—after all, he was friends with Hamish—you couldn’t help but think that remaining silent would only make things worse. You offered a small smile, and said, “Thank you, High Lord, for the great kindness of allowing me to join my mate in this great Court. I look forward to being a member of such a distinguished family.”

That seemed to satisfy the High Lord. All you had to do was stroke an ego a little bit, and males like Beron were easily pleased. He said to Eris, “Keep her like that and we will have no issues with your mating bond.”

Eris gave a curt nod. It was not until Beron left the room that he finally relaxed. “I am sorry,” he said. 

“I am used to males like him.”

He looked pained as he said, “I hope that is not true.” He loosed a sigh, then continued, “We may go to my chambers for some respite, but we should attend dinner tonight. Beron may have seemed so gracious to give you time to adjust, yet he will expect us there.”

“Of course. Will we…be sharing your chambers?” you asked.

It would not be a surprise if he said yes. But you had never shared a room with anyone before, much less a male. Much less a mate. From your limited conversations with Eris, he did not seem the sort to force you into anything you were not willing to do. That did not make it any less strange. Eris felt your anxiety and squeezed your hand. 

“I do not trust you to be safe anywhere else. Beron and my brothers will not bother you there. Well, I suppose Lucien might turn up every now and again. If you indulge in his whimsy, he will leave eventually. He is not the sort of male to harm a female.”

The underlying message was clear. Lucien would not, but Eris could not make any promises about the other males in his family. “I understand.”

“Then let us go there now. There is more still I would like to tell you, blossom.”

Instead of walking, Eris winnowed you to his chambers. You wondered if it was for the ease, or if it was because Eris worried about you running into someone he’d rather you avoid. Was everything in Forest House a walking danger, or was he paranoid? Was it his mate instincts, or did he care for you more than the flirting earlier that day? 

Eris’s chambers were rather simple. Quaint, perhaps. He didn’t have many decorations, save for some little acorns and leaves and a stack of papers that almost looked like they were covered in children’s scribbles. You wondered how he would feel when your little knick knacks covered every knock and cranny. 

“This is the safest place for you to be in this house. The drawing room is alright, too, but I would prefer if you refrained from being there unless myself, my mother, or Lucien are present. Should you decide to be there alone and anyone comes in, please excuse yourself as quickly as you can.”

You raised a brow. “Is it truly so dangerous here?”

Eris’s jaw clenched and unclenched. “The males in my family like to break pretty things. Lucien, of course, is harmless, save for his relentless teasing. I don’t trust any of my other brothers.” Or Beron. Especially Beron. 

The air was becoming too tense, too serious. So you smiled and batted your eyelashes. “You think I’m pretty?”

The corner of his mouth quirked up before turning serious once more. At least you got Eris to smile for moment, though. “These are our chambers. You can do as you please here. Decorate it however you like. Paint the walls pink if it pleases you. I understand how…limiting your life will be here, but I would like for you to find a safe space within these four walls.” Eris nodded at the bed. “For your comfort, I will take the settee while you take the bed. At least until you are comfortable. While I am your mate, I don’t want you to think of me as the sort of male who will force you.”

You eyed the bed. It was bigger than your one in Spring. Perhaps the benefit of being an heir as opposed to the lowly daughter of a High Lord. “Your bed is large enough that we could lay on either side and never bother the other unless we so chose,” you said. “And I would hate for you to be uncomfortable in your own room. And…I might like to be held.”

Eris smiled appreciatively. “I will not do anything you do not wish me to do,” he said. He paused, searching your face. “But, if we ever do, I will begin taking a tonic. I will do everything I can to keep you safe here, but it is harder to make such guarantees if there are little ones around.”

Was there no end to Beron’s cruelty? You nodded. “Should I not be the one to take the tonic?”

“No.” Eris looked more serious than he ever had before. “If Beron found out, and I pray to the Mother that he never would, I would rather I take the punishment than you.”

He spat punishment like it was poison in his mouth. Mother above, there were a million things you wanted to ask. So many things about the Forest House, about his family, about what he had to endure. But you weren’t sure if you should, or if he could even answer. So, you closed the distance between you two and wrapped your arms around his middle. Your head rested on his chest, listening to the dull thump. thump. thump.

The door opened, and Eris was quick to wrap his arms around you, hold you closer. Tighter. You swiveled your head as best you could. A woman with long auburn hair and kind eyes stepped inside. Eris relaxed.

“I heard you found your mate,” Saffron said. Her eyes landed on you, and she smiled. As you pulled out of Eris’s arms, she said, “Oh, you’ve grown so much since I saw you last!”

When you were younger, Saffron would often come with Beron when he’d meet with your father. In recent decades, however, her presence was less frequent. She had changed, too, since you last saw her. While still kind, her eyes held a sort of pain, and the way she held her hands close to her chest made you wonder if she endured her own brand of Beron’s punishments. 

You smiled at her. “It’s nice to have another friendly face here.”

“You’ll soon be sick of my face. My son will be furious of how much time I spend with you,” Saffron said. “I always hoped one of my sons would be your mate. I’m glad it was Eris.”

You looked up at him, your soft smile becoming a grin. “So am I.”

[jo-harrington]

You don't have time for Christmas.

Work and home and this friend in a crisis.

Work and home and, let's be honest, probably work again.

And before you know it, it's December 20th and you don't even have any decorations up. Barely anyone does. The neighborhoods that are usually lit up with lights and figurines enough to rival the Griswolds are noticably dark this year.

What holiday? What festivity? It's wake up and hustle and lay in bed in a dreamless sleep. Then wake up to do it all again.

You are a cog in a machine.

You don't know how to voice these things, your displeasure, the secret yearning for the pomp and circumstance and childhood whimsy for the holiday season that's tucked somewhere deep inside your weary body. You can't bring yourself to indulge in it.

You're tired.

You glance down the card aisle at the grocery store but don't stop to grab any for friends. You pick up a bag of peanut butter bells for your candy jar at work but then second guess it at the checkout. Gifts are bought with as much care as you could, but you can't even bother to wrap them as prettily as you usually would.

You can try again for Valentine's. Chocolate hearts with the crispy rice inside and roses for your coworkers. Something.

But this year, you don't have time for Christmas.

And he notices.

It starts with cookies.

He likes to bake--started with boxed cake mix and then you bought him a handheld torch one year so he could try his hand at creme brûlée after he watched a little too much Jacques Pepin on PBS--so it's not anything suspicious. No ulterior motives detected.

Only he's dug up the little handwritten notebook full of your grandma's favorite recipes. Grandpa's handwriting because he wrote it while she dictated. Cookies he's never tasted before himself but seemed to have nailed exactly the way she made them. The love he poured into the treats matched hers exactly.

He brings you a plate and a cup of cocoa when you come home and collapse on the couch.

You cry when you eat them. And he lets you.

Then he digs out the tree from the garage.

The one-car garage that you pay extra for doesn't fit either of your vehicles but fits all your crap. You both vow to clean up at some point and never do. He slogs through the boxes of old band tees that don't fit him and kitchen crap that you don't miss or really need, to get to the plastic 6 ft tree that used to have stickers to note which bough went in what slot but those are long gone.

He spends hours figuring it out and decorating it, and imagine your surprise when you come home to an otherwise-dark apartment illuminated by the fat, colorful incandescent bulbs that you're sure he spent a significant amount of time untangling. You'd both given up last year and went without lights. But there they are.

"What?" you drop your bag by the door. "What is this?"

"I dunno," he grins proudly. "Thought it would be nice. Get in the Christmas spirit. Saved the star for you to put on top if you want."

And you did. You wanted it so bad. Ever since you were a kid, you were the one to put the star on top of the tree.

After it's up, you marvel at the special care he's taken with the important ornaments. Fragile little wooden ones from your grandma, popsicle stick frames with baby pictures of both of you, a macaroni snowman that he gave his mom once-upon-a-time that his uncle had stashed away, and then a fancy hallmark one you got the year you moved in together.

They all have special places on the tree and tell a story of your lives, separate and then together.

You both lay under the tree that night, staring up at the glittering lights as you hold hands.

Finally it's Christmas Eve. Which to him really meant nothing, but to you meant the world. Christmas Days were spent with individual families but Christmas Eves of old meant a big dinner and time spent with your cousins and It's a Wonderful Life on the TV.

It's a tradition that got put to the wayside as everyone got too old and too tired. As you started getting scheduled to work, like this year. And it's almost worse this year, as you've done a stretch of you-can't-remember-how-many days, that you even turned down an invitation for the two of you from your mom for a small dinner with her.

You're exhausted by the time you get home and, more than anything, you're looking forward to the day off tomorrow.

Not the holiday. The day off.

Still, you remember to bring in the handful of gifts from their hiding place in your trunk. You don't really do gifts between the two of you anymore. Nothing big at least. Just a cheesy little thing. Something fun, not something serious. But you did a little more this year than you usually would--all of the OT you'd clocked for one, and too many things you saw that you knew would make him smile for another.

You try to tip toe into the house as quietly as possible so you can throw the boxes under the tree and shower but he's vigilant. He's been at the stove cooking for a while, and he greets you at the door as you shut it behind you.

"I thought we said no big gifts," he admonishes you and snatches the boxes from your hands. The wrapping paper isn't festive--just brown craft paper you stole borrowed from work since you wrapped on your lunch--but you managed to slap on some red and green bows from the drugstore that you grabbed the other day.

"They're not big," you explained. "I promise."

"Well neither are mine," he winked.

You slap a hand against his chest and then give him a kiss in greeting and thanks.

"One better be the RC racer I wanted when I was nine," he mutters against your lips.

"Hmmm, you're just gonna have to wait," you tell him. "And no shaking the boxes.

You're almost a little ticked off'; one of them is the RC racer.

You kick off your shoes as the smell finally hits you.

Dinner.

Thick and savory and fragrant.

Some kind of fish and roasted potatoes and the starchiness of a pasta and the tang of its sauce.

Recipes, again, taken from your grandma's little notebook. They stir something deep inside of you. That yearning you never voiced.

The weariness that's been slowly building within you finally comes to a head when you make it to the kitchen and see the pots and pans and two plates already portioned out.

An ice cold beer for him, and a Shirley temple, extra cherries, for you.

"Remember when you told me," he comes up behind you and his arms snake around your midsection, "that you and your cousins would sneak extra maraschino cherries from the fridge when your gram wasn't looking. And then she went to go get them for the pistachio salad and they were gone."

Your knees shake and you practically collapse against him.

"Speaking of which, there is a pistachio salad in the fridge for dessert."

"Why?" you sniff.

"Because that's actually my favorite, so sorry to your grandma's tiramisu." He pecks a kiss to the side of your head and rocks you back and forth. "But if you want to make that for New Year's Eve, I won't say no."

"No," you let out a watery laugh. "Why are you so good to me, why did you do all of this?"

"Because I know it's been a hard few weeks. Few months." You can feel him shrug. "Fuck, it's been hard for me too but...I know this is one of your favorite parts of the year and you just...haven't been in the spirit for it. So whatever I could do to make it happen for you..."

You turn in his arms and bury your face in his shoulder, in his neck, so he doesn't see your tears. Again. Worse this time as you begin to shake from your sobs. He shushes you, runs a hand over your back, and leaves kiss after kiss against your head.

"Baby, I'll do anything for you," he tells you, voice thick with emotion. "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy," you whine against his skin. "I'm so...so happy."

"Good."

"Thank you," you repeat it over and over again until it feels like you're empty of all the void and indifference that have filled you for the past few months are gone. In their place just...love and gratitude for him.

"Merry Christmas baby. I love you."

"I love you too, Merry Christmas."

[coolfire333]

Still thinking about the mercs as parents...I'm being really indulgent and assuming they're all good with kids in their own way, in the sense that they really would love a child of their own (even if they're terrible influences or let their kids do dangerous things) but anyway here's my thoughts on each of them as dads:

Scout: not used to being responsible for someone else since he's everyone's favorite youngest child of 8. He's a bit awkward with it and scared at first but he'll catch on eventually. He's not the best influence though and definitely teaches his kid things that shouldn't be taught to young children. Family means a lot to him considering his own dad left early in his life so he'll always try to be there for his own kid

Soldier: who let this man have a child. He loves his kid with all his heart but he is a terrible influence in the sense that he doesn't understand how fragile children can be until they get older. He tries his best and likes roughhousing and playing strategic games like capture the flag so at least he's fun to be around

Pyro: surprisingly good with kids! He's got a childish whimsy that translates very well into keeping children entertained. He'll probably play pretend with his kid for hours if you let him. He'll teach his kid all about the usefulness and beauty of fire (and probably commit a ton of arson in the process so he's not exactly an ideal role model)

Demoman: very loyal to his family (despite how messed up his backstory with his parents is) so he'd do anything for his child. Not the most attentive dad in the world but he tries his best and would never do anything to hurt his kid. He is very chill and goes with the flow when it comes to parenting. He's fun at parties and would love to pass the time having a drink with his kid on the porch in the evening

Heavy: he grew up with little sisters so he loves kids and pretty much knows exactly what to do. Most responsible merc when it comes to parenting by far. Loves his family so he'd really find it special to have a kid of his own, he'd probably worry a lot but once the initial fears subside he'd be a great dad. If he has flaws it's that he'd very much baby a kid past an age where that'd be appropriate or wanted so that may seem a bit condescending (he's only doing it because he's extremely protective though)

Engineer: he doesn't entirely know what to do at first but he's very genuine about it. Loves helping his kid make things and playing music together. Would totally kill it at a parent-child science fair making all sorts of weird gadgets that do new (and probably terrible) things. He's got a pretty big heart and is generally pretty tolerant of things that other parents would be annoyed with

Medic: who let this man have a child (part 2). Besides the obvious concerns of him using his own kid as a guinea pig for all kinds of weird experiments he'd actually be an ok dad. Very proud of his child and pays very close attention to stuff like growth milestones. Also would totally kill it at a parent-child science fair. Probably helps his kid make all kinds of weird Frankenstein-esque, cobbled-together toys and is very blunt about the whole "circle of life" thing

Sniper: oh man he has no idea how to do this properly, he's just gonna try to remember how his parents raised him and give it his best shot. He's a bit distant but always makes sure to spend quality time with his kid even if he doesn't say much. Probably takes his kid out for archery lessons, just in case his talent runs in the family. He felt awkward growing up (never knew he wasn't actually Australian by birth) so he makes sure to never treat his own child as less-than

Spy: oh boy. Assuming he actually sticks around to raise a child (this time), he'd actually be a decent dad. He definitely overthinks things, is very strict and overprotective, and is kinda a "no fun allowed" type compared to the other mercs in that he wants his kid to have the most normal and safe life possible. Spends time and effort on a good education, especially regarding the finer things in life. He prays that his kid doesn't "end up like him" despite not really elaborating on what he means by that. Overall he doesn't trust himself to raise a child properly but if forced to he's actually more than capable of it

Anyway these are just my thoughts. Again this is probably not the most realistic but I'm oddly optimistic about this kind of thing, plus I think it's interesting and kinda funny tbh imagining how the mercs might be as fathers :)

[rrcenic]

in the honor of my marvel obsession creeping back to me + my family being in disneyland and exploring avengers campus, have some ✨avengers incorrect quotes✨ as things my friends and family have said

a shit ton of these were conversations between @cissyenthusiast010155 and i lmao

-

peter: indulge in my child-like whimsy. buy me a web slinger

-

steve: is that an igloo over there??

peter: …it’s a hippie house?

tony: did you hear about the hippie states wife?

steve: why on earth is there a hippie house in the cars theme park?!

tony: babe. did you hear about the hippie states wi-

peter: what’s the hippie state?

tony: the hippie states wife is mississippi!

steve: what on earth are you talking abou-

tony: like,,, mrs. hippie?? mississippi?

steve: …

peter: …

tony: …

tony: i thought it was funny

-

tony: “i can do this all day”? that’s what she said

steve: SHHHHHH!!!

natasha: ooh, you’ve finally been shushed

-

loki: a kid ran in front of me and my reaction was “broken child!”

steve: wHAT?!

loki: i didn’t say it out loud!!!

-

scott: please sir, you don’t understand, if i don’t get my 20 dollar sunglasses back, my children will die

-

peggy: i support neil patrick harris being gay

natasha: peg, you’re a lesbian

peggy: yes, but i am an ally to his gayness

natasha: you are gay

-

peter: they should let me stay up late. because. if they don’t it would be…

ned: transphobic?

peter: YES

-

bucky: i smelled grass! and now i want some!

steve: you want to eat grass?!

bucky: absolutely

-

peter: and they were LAB PARTNERS

harley: oh my gawd they were lab partners

-

tony: i want shawarma

steve: i want to go to sleep

tony: it’s only 4 pm

steve: and?

-

steve: oh, this boba pearl is stuck in the ice…

bucky: just like captain america!

tony: aaaah, good one

-

mj: “what kind of girl do you want” a red one

peter: …

peter: are we talking about cars????

-

thor: i don’t understand the scientific physics

bruce: the what

-

peter: please bring back the cheese man

tony: that could really mean any of us

-

*at their first meet up in a while*

natasha: yknow, i’m just now being reminded of the fact that i hate half the people here

-

bucky: i hate will ferrell

sam: how can anyone hate will ferrell?!

bucky: well, i liked him in barbie

sam: and he was funny in the lego movie!

bucky: true, he was awesome in that

sam: oh, he was also megamind!

bucky: yes! i loved him with that

sam: you don’t actually hate will ferrell, do you?

bucky: …

sam: you just hate elf

bucky: …i just hate elf

-

steve: “rogers: the musical” can only be described as feeling like bad fanfiction

tony: isn’t it amazing

-

*playing heads up, prompt “avengers: civil war”*

peter: when! when the divorce!

scott: ant man’s first fight!

natasha: when everyone decided they didn’t like each other anymore!

-

harley: oh, c3p0 and r2d2 are a gay couple!

peter: duh??? did you just realize that???

[readbycrow]

What does my soul need right now?

2-18-2024 - Pick A Card

The images are in order of the cards below. The images just help pick which card is your answer. Pick an image, find the card, receive your answer. Hope to give some senses of reassurance and direction.

Red - Right now, your soul needs love. Deep, fulfilling love. Romantic or familial or from a beloved pet. Your soul needs time spent with those who see and accept you without judgement or strife. Time with those who truly love and adore us can be extremely healing and restful. People who understand our needs and show us compassion regardless of the situation are vital to maintaining good mental health. Make sure that you return this love to those who show it to you! Everyone benefits from this kind of love. Mutually caring relationships are fulfilling for many spirits.

Yellow - Your soul is craving something deeper. Something beyond your day to day life. It might be time to look into picking up or expanding on your magical, philosophical, or religious practices. Belief is a rather inherent thing in humans. While we can strive to be objective and factual as we want, there's always a part of us that will try and look beyond what's right in front of us. It might do you good to enrich that side of yourself. Study, explore, and indulge. Even if it's only for fun. See what catches your eye and put a little whimsy in your life. Who knows what you might find.

Blue - Your need something new. Your soul craves a new adventure. A change from the mundane and into the wider universe before you. Maybe there are projects you've been meaning to start. Maybe a trip you've been wanting to take. There's endless possibilities waiting for you. Now isn't the time for caution or hesitation. The things that have been holding you back are nowhere near as big as problems as your fear might try to make them. A big leap is what would work best, but if you have to work yourself up to it, that's okay. Step outside of your comfort zone in a thrilling way, not a harmful one.

Hello! Welcome to the bottom of the post. This crow just wants to let you know that it will pull a free card for you if you send an ask to its blog! It does trades of unwanted things for a card. If you don’t specify a question, the card will be about what you’ve given up. Feel free to check the pinned post for more information.

[the-lonelybarricade]

What Do You Know About Love - (4/?)

Summary: When Elain discovers a centuries old love letter, written in secret and never sent, she decides that she's going to be the one to finally deliver it. Even if finding its intended recipient means going on a mission with Lucien Vanserra. Set post ACoSF.

A contribution to @elucienweekofficial Day 4: High Society

Chapter 4 - Of Nights and Days

Read on AO3 ・Previous Chapter

-

As a child, Lucien’s Mother used to tell him stories of the Day Court.

She had never been to the Solar Court, as far as he could tell, but she always spoke fondly of its people, its customs, whenever the two of them were alone.

Not all Courts are like ours, she once told him. In Autumn, we’re so confined by rules; where we can go and what we can say and who we can speak to. But I’ve heard that in the Day Court, they value community over hierarchy. They relish in communal spaces—I’ve heard the High Lord even shares meals with his servants.

It sounded like an impossible thing to Lucien, at the time. His father barely indulged in a meal with his own children, let alone a servant. And he’d often been told, from his brothers as well as in his studies, that the High Lords of the Solar Courts were arrogant and self-serving.

He’d always privately thought his mother was embellishing her stories, trying to stoke whimsy in a childhood that sought to stamp any brightness out of him. Or that perhaps she wanted it to be real, for her own peace of mind.

Regardless, Lucien always thought of her whenever he was in the Day Court. Always wished he could write to her, to tell her that everything she’d hoped was true.

It’s freedom like you’d never seen, he would write. Their spellwork is so advanced that they have no need for doors or locks. The entire palace is open archways and exposed atriums. A breeze off the sea could flow from one end and out the other.

It always astounded him, the openness. As if the High Lord of the Day Court had no qualms of someone wandering in and discovering all his secrets. If not for his mechanical eye, he would believe that, but a cursory glance was all he needed to detect the hundreds of overlapping wards, some of its spellwork so complex that it would take a scholar centuries to untangle its magic.

“Wow,” Elain breathed beside him, sweeping wide brown eyes over the pointed archway before them, and the row upon row upon row of arches behind it, each of them detailed with colorful tiles and carved pillars.

Then she turned, casting her attention over the railing of the veranda they’d winnowed into, taking in the temperate air and the swaying palms with no shortness of reverence. It agonized him, the way her pink lips parted so softly in wonder, the way his thumb twitched to trace the curve of her lower lip.

If there was one thing he regretted most about the Solstice, it was that he’d walked away knowing how those lips felt against his own. How they could let out the softest, sweetest little gasp. How he hadn’t, not for a single moment of reprieve, managed to stop thinking about them, even in moments where he needed to start thinking about something, anything else.

Moments like this.

Where Elain turned to him, something sparkling in her eyes, and said, “It’s beautiful.”

No it’s not, he wanted to say. Not even close.

There was no definition of beauty that could ever skew away from Elain herself. Though perhaps, through the standards that existed before she rose from the Cauldron and rivaled his every understanding of the word, the Day Court could be considered beautiful.

“I’m sure there will be an opportunity for a tour later,” Lucien said instead, somehow coaxing his voice into neutrality. “I’ve heard Helion boasts an expansive garden,”

“I heard there’s a thousand libraries, too,” she said, still with that thrilling look in her eye.

Excitement, Lucien thought. He’d never seen it on her before. Feigned enthusiasm, if he was lucky, but pure, genuine excitement? He knew he had nothing to do with it, that it was simply the result of being here, outside of the gods-forsaken Night Court for a change. Even so, an absurd swell of pride filled his chest, some latent instinct sated at knowing his mate was happy. That he’d brought her that happiness, indirectly or otherwise.

“There is,” he said, unable to help his small, satisfied smile. “Its scholars may even be able to help you find the recipient of that letter.”

Her face lit up. “You think?”

“They are expert historians. And,” he glanced at the palace’s entrance, ensuring no one was coming by, before saying, “I hear they’re insufferable gossips. If there was a scandal at a Halieia ball, one of them surely knows something about it.”

Elain laughed. Laughed. Just a small, bubbly giggle, really, and he swallowed, uncertain if he’d ever heard the sound before. If he’d ever elicited that sound before. He wondered how he would be able to cope for every infinite expanse of moments after, knowing what her laughter sounded like and that he was not presently hearing it.

It reminded him of the stories they used to tell children at revelries, the ones that were eventually passed to the human realms and became the fabric of myth and legend. Don’t eat the food, don’t drink the wine.

He knew the reason. There were fae wines rumored to be so sweet that a sensible male could become an addict from just a single drop. One taste, and he would become enthralled, willing to trade anything for another sip. A slave to his own desire.

That was how it felt to hear Elain’s laughter.

And as he contemplated all of the things he would be willing to do to hear it again, he considered how he was so, catastrophically, fucked. It would be impossible to endure one day of this, let alone a hundred—potentially more. Rhysand had given no indication of how long Lucien was expected to stay, nor what Lucien was even expected to do.

It was concerning to think that was how blindingly loyal he’d become to the Night Court. In a thousand centuries, he never thought he’d play willingly into the High Lord of Night’s machinations. Yet there he was, dressed in regalia that spoke of pride. Allegiance.

Rhysand hadn’t requested any bargain or oath of loyalty, but he hadn’t needed to.

The High Lord knew that Lucien would do whatever he asked. Because of her.

Elain looked at him, oblivious to the ways she’d permanently warped his loyalties. And to the carnage she wracked in him by slotting her teeth against her lower lip and saying, “That’s reassuring, because gossip is something we’re experts at in the human realm.”

“Oh, I’ve heard.”

Lucien thought of the endless gossip Vassa and Jurian liked to share with him. Who was seen where with whom, who was getting married, who was having children, who was running away with the blacksmith’s daughter. It all seemed tedious to Lucien, and always boiled down to two people fucking—or wanting to fuck, and avoiding doing so for strange, prudish human reasoning. He supposed with short life spans, humans felt the need to sensationalize every trivial event in their lives.

Though suddenly, Lucien wanted to know every petty piece of human gossip Elain had ever felt inclined to keep hold of.

The smile she offered him was intriguingly conspiratorial.

“There’s a secret to it, you know.”

He leaned closer, completely entranced. “A secret to what?”

“Gossip.”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“It’s a game,” she said. “At least in the mortal realm. There’s a delicate balance between offering up too much or too little. If you offer up nothing, your peers will think you're oblivious to your surroundings or worse—sanctimonious. But if you share too much that makes you untrustworthy.”

“I can see it already,” he murmured, fascinated at the gleam in her eyes. She had a competitive streak, and he was eager to file that discovery away for later use. “You must have been fierce competition during the social seasons.”

The proud tilt of her chin certainly suggested as much, though she was too polite to admit it.

“I perfected how to share details just tantalizing enough to not betray anyone who held me in confidence. And because gossip is always a competition of who knows most, I always received the most scandalous rumors in exchange.”

“You would make an impressive emissary with that skill set,” he said, pleased to see a flush crawling up her cheeks. In the past, she’d always shrunk away from his attempts to compliment her.

Encouraged, he edged the slightest bit closer, placing his palm against the rail to steady himself for her scent. In the open air, some of it was being carried away, drifting towards the green bay at the bottom of the hill. But the remainder of that sweet jasmine and pear scent lingered in the air around her, tangling his senses like a hidden snare.

Elain stiffened at their proximity, but she didn’t pull away. It was progress, he reasoned.

“What would you share with the scholars, then, to find out what happened at the ball?”

After a moment of thought, she said, “Do you think they’d be interested to know that the High Lord of the Night Court has taken up knitting as a pastime?”

“Oh?” drawled a deep voice. “How quaint. Do you think he’d knit a loincloth for me?.”

Elain’s hand flew to her chest, a gasp hitching out of those perfect lips as she scrambled back from Lucien, all of their so-called progress crumbling into sand. It was like she feared being caught alone with him, as if she didn’t want anyone to know they could be friendly with each other. For the sake of his pride, he told himself it was a lingering scruple of the mortal realm.

Yet it still rubbed against an old, festering wound.

Unwanted. Unneeded. Undesirable.

Hastily brushing his bruised ego aside, Lucien turned to their new arrival.

It was difficult to examine him too closely, in the same way one could never glimpse the sun in full. Magic radiated from him, even with a glamor, like a kernel of the sun lived beneath the High Lord’s dark brown skin. He was covered in more gold than cloth—a spiked crown atop his head, a collar around his throat, draping a waterfall of golden chains across his exposed chest and arms. White cloth hung from his hips, secured in place by a slanted jeweled belt, and the fabric was slit on both sides to expose his wide thighs.

“High Lord,” Lucien greeted, exceedingly careful not to glance towards Elain. He had no interest in marking her reaction to the male and all of the skin he had on display. “Lucien, Emissary of the Night Court, at your service.”

“A Vanserra,” Helion repeated under his breath. Not a question—if anything it was grumbled. And as Lucien raised his head, he could see the High Lord of the Day Court raising his hand to pinch the bridge of his broad nose. “I call in a favor and the bastard sends me a Vanserra.”

Wariness of his family name wasn’t unfounded, but Lucien couldn’t help his stab of irritation. Helion knew as well as any other High Fae that he’d been exiled from the Autumn Court centuries ago.

“I don’t use my family name,” he said flatly.

Helion hummed. “I don’t blame you. Tedious lot, that family of yours. I was hoping for the beautiful Mor, but I suppose your Knowledge of the other Courts may come in handy.”

With that quick dismissal, the High Lord’s attention roved away from Lucien and quickly landed on Elain. Lucien was careful to keep his expression neutral as the High Lord appraised her with an interest that made his skin itch. As if it no longer fit the beast stirring and writhing beneath.

“Where have they been hiding you?”

That deep, rich voice was now dripping in sensuality. The High Lord stepped toward her, a taunting smile growing on his lips when he noticed the way Lucien tensed. He knew what Helion was like with females—with males, too. Rumor said Helion was indiscriminate so long as a person was beautiful, and Elain was the most beautiful of all.

The High Lord offered her a bow, extending one of his broad hands to her. And Elain, too polite or perhaps equally enchanted, allowed him to take her hand and brush a kiss to the backs of her knuckles.

Easy, Lucien coached himself, tightening his leash on the instincts that demanded bloodshed at seeing another male touch his mate. Put his mouth on her—

Easy. He took a deep breath. She’s unharmed. She’s safe. She’s…

Enjoying it.

That was laughter slipping past her lips, mirth crinkling at her eyes, and a deep swatch of scarlet creeping over her elegant cheekbones. The bastard was practically half-clothed, and yet there wasn’t an ounce of the reservation she always seemed to possess in Lucien’s company.

In fact, her eyes were wandering over the High Lord’s exposed skin, admiring the golden cuff around his forearm—or perhaps the swelling muscle it constricted. Was that what she liked, then?

A sharp bitterness rose at the back of his tongue. Lucien was admittedly leaner than the High Lord. He knew he didn’t possess the same warrior build as so many of the males she spent her time around, but that could be helped. He trained regularly to keep his strength, but he could heighten his regimen, if that would encourage her eyes to wander towards him more often.

Though, if the appeal was Helion’s beauty… his striking face, which was notably unmarred, or his amber eyes, which were a matching color and simmering with impish delight as they beheld her. If those were what caused Elain to part her lips in wonder, then there was nothing Lucien could do to rectify that shortcoming in himself.

“Well?” Helion prompted, humor lacing his voice. “What brings a sweet little morsel like you to my Court?”

“She’s here on leisure, not Court business.” Lucien tried to sound bored, uninterested in whatever game the High Lord was trying to taunt him into playing. “Before you get any ideas, Feyre made it clear that she’s not to be involved.”

He produced a letter from his pocket between realms, holding it between his fingers in offer, but not extending it any further. Helion could take his damned hands off Elain and collect it himself.

The High Lord didn’t let go of her hand, but he did raise his mouth from its place at her knuckles to regard Lucien, then the letter—each with a cool indifference. With a snap of his fingers, a sun-kissed breeze swept in from the sea and snatched the parchment from Lucien’s fingertips. The swift, jerking motion morphed the paper’s dull edge into a blade, and Lucien hissed as it sliced against his thumb.

By the time the letter floated to Helion and unfolded for his surveillance, the blood had already welled and sealed over. There was no apology in the High Lord’s grin, only challenge. And if Elain was aware of the transgression, if she could scent the copper of Lucien’s blood carried over on the breeze, she said nothing. Only watched with curious eyes as Helion unfolded the letter.

It didn’t say much. Similar to Lucien's meeting with Rhysand the night before, the details were frustratingly cryptic. A trade deal. That’s all he’s been told. Not which territory they’d be trading with, not the contents of what they’d be trading, no indication of any timeline.

None of it boded well. And Feyre’s refusal to let Elain be involved did little to ease his suspicions. If it was a simple negotiation, why wouldn’t they want Elain to gain exposure to Court politics?

“I see,” Helion said, scanning the letter’s contents. He clicked his tongue, the golden paint smeared beneath his lower lashes glistening as he turned back to Elain. “Pity, that beautiful face would have made these tedious meetings much more bearable. But it’s a pleasure to have you in my court, nonetheless, Lady Elain.”

Elain bowed her head and, at last, withdrew her hand. “Thank you for your generosity, High Lord.”

“Call me Helion,” he purred. “If only because it will rile that mate of yours.”

She winced at the word. Mate. That sacred, special word that Lucien was so careful not to use around her. The one syllable monument to the fate they danced around, because if they were to acknowledge it she would get that look on her face, the one she was wearing now, and he would feel it like a serrated blade in his chest, sawing against the bone and sinew of a bond that refused to tear, though he felt each abrasion just the same.

Lucien resisted the urge to rise to the jab. He wanted to insist that he was not that kind of mate, that he was different than the territorial male she feared being shackled to. But if he continued speaking for her, it would only lend weight to the accusation.

He bit his tongue—bit it until he tasted blood in his mouth.

“Helion,” she said, testing the name and earning a lazy smile from the male in return. “I hear that you have a thousand libraries in this Court.”

“I do. Are you here seeking knowledge, Lady?”

Did she catch it, Lucien wondered, that subtle shift in Helion’s tone? Still warm, still overtly friendly, but sharpened just enough to suggest that he recognised the danger in the knowledge his Court guarded. And that by virtue of seeking it, Elain posed a threat.

She was a stranger to him after all. An Archeron, yes, but still mated to a Vanserra. That made her untrustworthy on principle. And despite her beauty and innocent demeanor, which may have earned her trust in the mortal realm, here it would only earn her scrutiny. In Prythain, any fae past infancy knew the flowers with the loveliest blooms were most often poisonous.

“No,” she said, turning timid beneath his assessment. “I—I never learned how to read, my Lord. My sisters and I lost any proper education to poverty. But I am fascinated by architecture, and I enjoy the quiet of a library to work on my embroidery.”

Elain, illiterate? He knew that Feyre had been, and that it’d once nearly gotten him killed. But surely he would know if his own mate was, too. Lucien’s mind scrambled back to every past encounter, trying to remember if he’d ever seen Elain reading. She’d been sitting in the library the first time he’d spoken to her, but she’d been thin and pale and absently staring out a window, not saying or doing much of anything.

Did she truly not know how to read? And no one in that house had noticed, or bothered teaching her?

Helion cast his eyes towards Lucien, measured the rage in his expression, and hummed. “We have tutors in this court who could teach you, if you’d like. And some say the architectural feats of my libraries do rival the knowledge they contain. I’ll let my scholars know you’re welcome to explore them at your leisure.”

Elain curtsied again. “You’re too kind, my Lord.”

And as that subtle gleam returned to her eye, the memory clicked. The letter that inspired her to come here. Just this morning, he’d cradled a flame in his palm and admired how his magic cast streaks in her hair while she’d read the letter’s contents.

“Helion,” he insisted again, gentler.

She played him. And he bought it.

Lucien had to turn away, casting his eyes toward the veranda and the city sprawled along the hillside below. There was no one to witness the smile twitching over his lips, the one he couldn’t restrain, though he tried.

Elain manipulated one of the most powerful males in the world. Someone who far exceeded her in age and power and stature. She did it without blinking, or losing the bashful glow on her cheeks.

And it was the most attractive thing Lucien had ever witnessed.

[horseimagebarn]

hello my dear friends welcome to the horseimagebarn weekly recap where every week i respond to all the cool tags asks comments and such things i received in the past week

i shall begin our recap with a request as i am planning to rework my tagging system for the horse emotions and i need your help to think of good ones here are the tags i have so far

joy - for happiness

whimsy - for the positive oddities and love of life

cursed - this is cursed

lament - for sadness

anger - self explanatory

sloth - laziness and comfort

love - horses that are in love

friendship - horse and some other being or beings displaying friendship

indulgence - indulging in food water alcohol drugs etc

intelligence - doing tasks that display intelligence such as human tasks

small - small or young horses

NEW! evil - evilness and villainy

NEW! unusual - this is unusual

NEW! vehemence - upset or disgust

NEW! styling - for all the well dressed horses

NEW! nonhorse - there is a nonhorse entity in the image

NEW! cute - i think this horse is cute

NEW! aquatics - the horse is in the water

NEW! regular - a regular and uncontroversial image of a horse

NEW! silly - the horse is acting in a rambunctious or goofy manner

NEW! greatest hits - my favorite horse images or the most successful ones on the tumblr platform

please let me know your feedback on this matter as these tags exist to aid you in your navigation of my blogs archive

anyway let us move onto our recap

this is the truest damn thing ive ever heard

i appreciate this compliment greatly my friend i am a massive fan of the beat poets ginsberg especially though he may be a basic choice is one of my biggest inspirations when it comes to shorter form writing i am deeply touched by your comparison

welcome to tumblr my friend i hope you have a wonderful time here i am touched to have had such an effect on you as to motivate you to make an account

hello friends i do not and never will accept ai generated images for this account i do my best to give every image i find a decent sized gander in an attempt to prevent ai images from being posted this account is dedicated to enjoying the true and real nature of horses and i feel that appreciation does not extend to fake horses that are an amalgamation of pictures of real life horses it feels unnatural and wrong to me to post fake horses

i quite like draft breeds i think they are beautiful and i love horses with thicker builds however i truly believe all horses are majestic and impressive creatures deserving of love and i do enjoy all of them

i would watch it i love horse media its so funny i myself think often of writing an adult animated television show about horses

i search pretty much everywhere you could think of and i type nonsensical phrases with horses in them until something of value is revealed to me it is a valiant hunt

im afraid i have never read any of his work do you recommend it

this is very good i love when people draw the horses you have much skill

thank you my friend i am always pleased to see your tags on my posts my girlfriend and i are indeed happily frolicking every day with joy and excitement in our hearts i showed her this and she said that was indeed us so your image choosing was accurate take heart in that for you have horse posted the horse poster

red dead redemption 2 is a very good horse game i enjoy it greatly my horses were named isabella and trophy and felt and wet blanket and i loved them very much

shoutout skippy

[dent-de-leon]

oh my god I just remembered that Lucien playfully asked Frumpkin what his dreams for the future are. He’s so cute, I love those little moments when he indulges in that same love of ridiculous whimsy as Mollymauk—

Also I was going to say it makes me feel some kinda way that Lucien gives Caleb a little nickname too, how something as small and teasing as, “Broody one,” betrays just how much of Caleb Lucien can truly see, how the depths of this wizard’s heartache and pain isn’t lost on him.

But, even more heartbreaking… “Perhaps we’re more alike than you think.” Lucien saying that, even though he can’t possibly know how terribly true it is. Lucien who doesn’t know that Caleb is the only person who would understand how he woke screaming and crying as a child from nightmares of setting his childhood home on fire. Lucien who watched his parents burn, lost his whole family—and spent years blaming himself for it, desperately trying to bend reality to his will just to bring them back.

Never mind that he did it to save himself and his little sister, that he did it to stop them from using his brother’s corpse as an undead puppet—saved countless others from being sacrificed to the same fate. He still hated himself for it, still let the gutting guilt and grief eat him alive. Lucien who is a victim of the Cerberus Assembly and several other very powerful, manipulative mages—just as much as Caleb is.

We’re more alike than you think. Lucien who resents his blood hunter scars and all the Eyes and his own infernal blood—every time he tried to close off his own heart to keep from losing anyone else. It could have saved him, I think. If he knew just how much Caleb would understand. And I think, for his Magician, that shared connection would be a comfort too—

[ghostofskywalker]

Friendly Competition

Commander Cody & Padawan!Reader

Fictober Day 28 of 31

Words: 833

Summary: You challenge Cody to a competition: who can kill the most clankers in this battle. Usually he isn't one for games, but this time he agrees.

Note: this could be seen as a sister fic to my other platonic commander cody & obi-wan's padawan!reader fic, operation: rest and relaxation, but it can absolutely be read on its own. this is definitely one of my favorite fictober fics :)

Clone Troopers Masterlist

The transport ship was about to start its descent when you turned to Cody. “I bet I can kill more clankers than you.”

Your fellow commander hadn’t yet put his helmet on, and he turned towards you with his eyebrows raised. “I don’t think so, kid.”

“Well, do you want to make it a bet?”

He paused for a moment, clearly think about the pros and cons of accepting your challenge. “I don’t need to prove anything to you,” he said, putting his helmet on and grabbing the blaster from his belt holster.

But of course, you weren’t going to let things go that easily. “That’s fine commander,” you said. “I won’t tell my master that you’re scared.”

Silence. Now that he had his helmet on you couldn’t read his facial expression, but you knew that your joking threat might actually get him to engage. “Alright,” he said, a slightly gruff tone that you knew was all osik. “You’ve got yourself a challenger.”

“Great!” you said, and you felt the gunship touch down on the surface of the planet. “Keep count of your kills, and this will end when we get back on the transport.”

“Deal.”

The doors opened, and you ran with your troops into the heat of battle.

Obi-Wan was pushing from the other side of this forest, and the hope was that when all the droids were defeated you would meet him in the middle of the battlefield. You had already learned so much from him, and formed positive friendships with the all of the 212th, Cody in particular. It felt like you had suddenly inherited hundreds of older brothers, and the commander was the wisest of them all.

War was difficult, and you knew that even before you had left the Jedi Temple. This particular game began as something stupid that Waxer and Boil heard about from Rex and the 501st, how many droids did everyone kill during battles and skirmishes, but you had never successfully gotten the commander involved. Part of you wondered if he knew something about the difficulty of this battle that he refused to tell you, and that was why he agreed to indulge your sense of whimsy this time, but there was nothing you could do about that now.

Cody was the marshal commander of the GAR, the highest-ranking clone in the entire army, and he was terrifyingly effective in battle. On multiple occasions you had watched him toss his blaster aside and sprint directly at his adversaries, and you had heard rumors that he had even tackled General Grievous once.

Even though you were a Jedi, this was going to be one hell of a close competition.

You twirled your lightsaber through a unyielding sea of droids, mentally keeping count of every single one that you sent careening to the ground, with its head or limbs falling separate from its body. You pulled the blaster from your hip and wielded it along with your saber, a concentrated expression on your face as you focused only on the task at hand. Using a blaster was very different than the traditional Jedi weapons, but you had adapted to it pretty easily, much to the disgust of some higher-up Jedi Masters. However, it had made you more successful in battle, and so it was allowed by the council.

You knew that if this war ended you would have some heavy realities to face, but right now the main goal was to stay alive, and that’s what you did.

When the last of the droids had finally fell, your count was up to seventy-six, and you thought that was pretty good for the amount of adversaries that you had just faced. You met up with Obi-Wan and the other half of the battalion and were now taking stock of your win before trying to decide what to do next.

As you spoke to a few of the troopers on the outskirts of the group, Cody walked up to you with a smile on his face. “Alright kid, how did you do?”

You tried to play it tough, knowing that this was all a game. “I think I won, how many did you kill?”

“I asked you first.”

You stood up a little straighter before speaking. “Seventy six droids.”

The look on his face was hard to read at first, and then a gigantic smile crossed his face. “Congratulations,” he said.

“Really?” You could barely contain your excitement.

“I killed seventy five, so you won.”

Immediately you jumped for joy, running through the groups of clones and excitedly informing them that you had beat the commander in a droid kill-off, and they all laughed at your excitement as they made joking remarks about their commanding officer.

As Cody would tell Obi-Wan later when he was asked, he actually killed seventy seven droids, but the look of excitement and happiness on your face when you realized that you had beat him in a competition was completely worth the loss. 

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[elmfae]

🌺🧚‍♀️🌿 Welcome, Fairy Lovers, Enthusiasts and Believers to Fae Friday! 🌿🧚‍♀️🌺

˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊

I came up with the idea of Fae Fridays to share with you the wonderful opportunity to celebrate the enchanting energy of the fae realm and connect to the magic that fairies bring into our lives through art, poems, literature and anything else I find captivating and wish to share with you.

˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊⁎᷀ົཽ⁎⁺˳✧༚ ˚✧₊

Here are some ideas to infuse your Fridays with the Shining Folks whimsy and charm:

Fae Garden Magic: Set aside some time on Fae Fridays to tend to your fae garden. If you don't have one yet, this is the perfect opportunity to create a miniature garden filled with tiny plants, fairy houses, and whimsical decorations.

Fae Crafts and Creations: Engage in creative activities inspired by fairies. Faery wings, create fae-inspired art, or craft your own faery house using natural materials. Let your imagination run wild and allow your inner child to play and create.

Fae Oracle or Tarot Readings: Pull out your favorite fae-themed oracle or tarot deck and do a reading specifically focused on connecting with the energy of the fae. Allow the cards to guide you and offer insights into the otherworld.

Fae Storytelling: Spend some time reading or writing fairy tales and folklore. Immerse yourself in the magical stories of fairies, gnomes, and other mythical creatures. You could also gather with friends or family and take turns sharing your own fae inspired tales.

Fae-inspired Treats: Whip up some fairy-themed treats to indulge in on Fae Fridays. Decorate cupcakes with edible flowers, create fairy-shaped cookies, or brew a cup of floral-infused tea to enjoy as you.

Remember, Fairy Fridays are a time to celebrate and honor the otherworld/fairyland. I hope I’ve inspired you to let your creativity and imagination guide you to infuse your Fridays with faery magic. Embrace the whimsy, playfulness, and joy that the fairies bring into your life.

Feel free to share your Fae Friday experiences and ideas. 🌺🧚‍♀️✨

~Fae