#callisto d&dorks

[narrlsy]

Prophis and Callisto study date!!!

[newweaponx22]

Did a photoshop for the character designs while my husband (@blitzendoggo) was working in the fic “spot in my heart” if you haven’t read it, you should, it’s really fucking good.

[dndorkdoggo]

Glib: *holds up a very mediocre painting he did*

Prophis: Oh! I like it, good job, Glib!

Callisto: He’s being nice. The painting is ugly

[narrlsy]

I needed some domestic fluff of prophis and Callisto

[narrlsy]

I get sad thinking about these two

[narrlsy]

Okay, y’all, I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to make this post, but I ain’t really got a choice.

This page is very openly a D&Dorks fanpage, and it will remain that way, but for now and the foreseeable future, I and many other D&Dorks fans do not support Matthew Selle (Sir_Superhero) because, through a series of private messages, he has proven to be very ableist.

More information is going to be rolled out about this very slowly, but if you would like to learn about it sooner, feel free to join the server ( https://discord.gg/jzA8B4Jb ).

TO BE CLEAR, this will remain a D&Dorks fanpage, but I will be staying away from anything directly owned by Mr. Selle."

[narrlsy]

I miss Callisto and Callisto misses his husband(and kids)

[narrlsy]

I call this “the final morning goodbye”

[dndorkdoggo]

Spot in My Heart

Callisto finds a kitten on his way home, Prophis couldn’t be happier.

Prophis/Callisto (2097 words)

~~

Every year, Callisto swears he’s going to quit working at Bowenburg Academy, and every year, Prophis convinces him to stay, but this really might be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. He stayed late grading papers and helping students with work as they came in and out of his office -having a strange admiration of the teacher that Callisto cannot for the life of him understand, but Prophis always laughs and shakes his head whenever the dark-haired man mentions it- and when he finally decided he should pack up and head home it was nearly 8:30 at night. And to top it all off, it was raining hard enough for the raindrops to sting as they struck Callisto’s skin.

He is power walking home as fast as his 6’5” legs will allow him which makes him look like a grey-and-black blur zipping through the town. Most of the world is simply white noise to him, the only noise being the pounding rain as everything else that is sensible is hiding somewhere dry.

Or at least, that’s what he thought.

As he rounds a corner, sharper and faster than is safe given the very slick concrete, he stumbles forward as his heel steps on something far too soft, and said soft thing begins yowling and crying loudly. Callisto spins around and sees a tiny black and white kitten, drenched to the bone, and, even to Callisto’s untrained eye, severely malnourished.

The man pauses before the guilt -and some of his animal-loving husband’s consciousness- overwhelms him, and he steps under a nearby awning and clicks for the kitten as he crouches down.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to step on you,” he apologizes quietly, feeling a little ridiculous talking to the tiny creature as he digs into his bag and pulls out his half-eaten salami sandwich, offeringsome of it on his palm to the little thing. The kitten quickly eats it out of his hand before looking up at the tall man expectantly. Callisto gives him more with a small smile.

He offers everything he can to the kitten before standing up. He is beginning to shake with the cold and wants to get back to his husband. He nods to the kitten and turns to walk away before noticing that the kitten is still following him.

“Go on, go home,” He tells it sharply, trying to sound mean and drive it off, but instead he is given an honestly pitiful meow. “Oh, you’re quite cold, aren’t you…” he says quietly. He intends on taking another step away, but his legs don’t seem to be listening to his brain as they instead bring him closer to the sopping wet cat, and his arms seem to be listening even less as they reach to grab the kitten.

He feels around its neck for the collar, deciding that he can deliver the kitten back to his home before coming to the upsetting conclusion that there was no collar.

He straightens up and looks at it for a long moment before sighing heavily. “Alright, then, I suppose you’re coming with me.”

He gently picks up the black-and-white mess of fur. The kitten begins purring as hard as it’s shivering and Callisto can’t bring himself to put the kitten down. He gently wrings the excess water out of its fur and looks at him pensively before tucking him down the front of his grey sweater.

Though he was certainly walking fast before, he nearly doubles his speed as he barrels home, feeling the need to deliver this kitten to safety. He silently gives his thanks that their house is not that far from the campus, and he bursts through the door to their little home in only five minutes.

“Callisto!” Prophis yelps, jumping straight up from his seat. “What on Earth are you-?”

“Cat,” Callisto says bluntly, fishing the mewling thing from his sweater and holding it straight out.

The elf stares at him and the kitten for a long moment before quickly approaching and swiping it from his husband’s hands.

“Oh, Callisto, where did you find this poor little dear?” he asks, immediately fretting over the kitten.

“On my way home,” Callisto explains as he peels off his drenched jacket and drops his bag by the door. “I accidentally stepped on its tail.”

“You what?!” Prophis exclaims, turning sharply to look at his husband as if he had said that he had punted the cat.

“On accident,” Callisto rectifies quickly. “And I apologized, and fed it half my lunch.”

The elf inspects the kitten twice over and gives a satisfied nod. “Well, other than being a hungry little fellow, he seems unscathed.” He pauses and turns his gaze to his husband, and the dark-haired man knows that look.

“No, Prophis,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster in the face of his husband. “We cannot keep it.”

“Why not?” the elf pouts. “He’s perfectly fine and well-mannered!”

“Prophis,” Callisto all but pleads.

“Oh, come on, you can’t be as heartless as to cast the little one out into the rain!” Prophis doubles down, putting his bleeding heart on full display as he cradles the kitten closer to his chest. “He wouldn’t survive the night and winter is just around the corner and-”

“Alright,” the human says tiredly.

“Alright?” Prophis echoes, the hope edging into his voice.

“Yes, alright, we can keep it.” Before his husband can properly cheer he adds, “Just until we can find someone who can take care of it instead.”

Prophis has a look on his face for a moment, one that Callisto recognizes as his “I’m plotting something face” before he nods with a smile. “Well, if he’s going to stay he needs a name.”

“A name?” Callisto echoes.

“Yes, something to call him instead of just ‘the kitten,’” Prophis reasons.

The human considers it for a moment before he concedes with a nod. “I suppose that much can be true.”

The blonde holds up the black-and-white mess of still-soggy fur before saying, “Mr. Business.”

Callisto smiles at his husband’s choice of naming. “We can’t call it that, the Monopoly Man would steal it.”

Prophis sighs. “Fair point.” He walks into the living area and gently sets the kitten down on the table, looking at him intently as if the cat will tell them his name.

Callisto follows his husband after a moment. He looks at the kitten before thinking about his lesson on the Greek mythos this evening. “What about Clio, after the muse of history and heroic poetry, from the old tales?”

Prophis snickers. “That’s truly a you thing to say, but look at him.” He gestures at the cat. “That’s not a hero of old.” As if cued by his words, the cat tries to walk off the table.

The history professor watches with bemusement as his husband scrambles to save the kitten before considering his comment. “You may have a point.” He pauses, weighing his options before smiling as he says, “Dionysus then, the old god of intoxication, that seems to fit the cat’s,” he trails off, looking the tiny thing up and down before landing on, “Everything.”

“I still feel a god’s name is too clever for him,” Prophis points out.

Callisto nods, watching as the kitten tries to eat a strand of his husband’s long white hair. “I suppose you’re right,” he says slowly.

“What about,” he trails off before grinning. “Spot? After the three-headed dog.”

Callisto pauses for a long moment, looking at his husband before slowly saying, “Did you just-? Do you mean-?” But the hopeful look in Prophis’ eye causes him to stop. “Alright, love, Spot it is.”

“Yay! Spot!” He stands up with Spot and spins around. The cat, to his credit, is completely unbothered, just lazily looking around as the 6-foot elf twirls around with him.

Callisto chuckles. “I don’t know what I expected from you,” he says before shaking his head. “Scratch that, this is exactly what I expected from you”

Prophis doesn’t even respond as he stands there with the kitten, smiling and laughing. He is on cloud nine with this little thing in his arms because he loves animals, but that’s not the only reason. While Prophis may love animals, Callisto does not, and one of the compromises they made when getting married and moving in together is that they wouldn’t have any pets in the house.

His husband snickers before deciding to be dramatic. He sniffles and pulls his, still-wet, cardigan closer around him. “I was out in the cold rain too, you know. The kitten’s not the only one who needs cuddles.” He huffs and turns to walk towards the stairs. “I suppose I’ll just go curl up in bed under the blankets.”

Callisto barely finishes his sentence before Prophis wraps him in a tight, one-arm hug. He litters his face in kisses, muttering “I love you” between each one. In his other hand, he holds the kitten away from Callisto in an effort to not smash the tiny thing.

“I love you too, darling, but I really should go dry off.” Prophis huffs, but does not let go, causing Callisto to chuckle. “Let me dry off and then we can cuddle, sound good? Wouldn’t want you getting all wet, considering you’ve already had your bottom surgery,” he teases, tapping Prophis’ hip.

Prophis slowly blinks as he processes that Callisto is still dripping wet and slowly steps back. “I somehow missed that- yes, yes, go dry off. I’ll be here taking care of this little guy.” He kisses his husband's cheek.

“You were offered cuddles after a long day of being home alone, and dove for the opportunity, my fault really. I’ll be back in a moment, darling.” Callisto walks off to the bathroom, but a second later his head pops back into the room. “I’d like to point out that ‘Spot’ is also soaking wet.”

Prophis nods and follows him into the bathroom, sits down on the floor with a towel, and dries the kitten off while cooing at him while Callisto dries up.

Callisto tries to wring the water out of his hair and clothes before mumbling “To hell with it” and completely stripping and snatching Prophis’ fluffy pink robe off the wall. He carefully pulls it on before loosely tying it in the front and burying his nose in its soft sleeve. The exhustion of the day begins to catch up with him as his eyes droop and his shoulders sag.

Prophis sees him out of the corner of his eye. He slowly stands up, still cradling the kitten in one hand, and gently readjusts the robe on Callisto with the other.

“Pink is your color, love,” Prophis hums, mirth alive in his eyes.

“Shh,” he mumbles into the sleeve. He lifts his head just enough to see his husband. “It smells like you, okay?”

The blonde trails his hand up to Callisto’s face and gently twirls one of the strands of brown hair around his fingers. “Mhm,” he hums. “Is that why you steal all my clothes?” he questions. Spot meows and Prophis briefly redirects his attention to the kitten, curling it closer to himself and making sure he is still securely held before giving his attention back to his very suddenly sleepy husband.

“Yeah, you have a nice smell, and furthermore, it’s the smell of my husband. I’d love your smell if you smelled like rancid garbage, but luckily for me you smell like vanilla candles and warmth.” Callisto rests his head against Prophis’ chest, but the cat's tiny tail keeps smacking him in the nose. He makes a disgruntled expression while shifting to rest his head in the crook of his husband's neck.

Prophis snickers as he gently puts the cat down, and wraps his husband in a proper hug before swaying them there. “I still think I smell like stale food, but I appreciate the compliment nonetheless.”

Callisto scowls against his husband’s neck. “You do not smell like stale food, this is a hill I will die on.”

The elf laughs, squeezing his husband a little tighter. “I know, we ‘argue’ about it once a week.”

“Yes, yes, we do.”

Prophis sighs. “How about this, let’s call this argument a draw and go to bed for some proper cuddles?”

Callisto nods with a loopy smile, the need to sleep finally winning.

“I love you,” he says quietly as the blonde leads them to the bedroom.

Prophis smiles. “I love you too, pretty boy, and thank you for bringing home Spot.”

[dndorkdoggo]

Slice of Life

Just a slice of life from the Eldritch Gays.

Callisto/Prophis (1180 words)

~~

Callisto was tired. He had sat through no less than ten meetings about restructuring Symetris and he was ready to just be home with his freshly married husband.

With an exhausted sigh, he teleports into their living room, expecting to see Prophis sitting in his armchair, but his husband is not even in the room.

The human does a quick scan of the room and sees Prophis' book lying on the seat, the bookmark several pages forward in the book, and an empty mug sitting on the side table. Callisto carefully picks up the mug and turns it over in his hands. It's a simple brown clay mug with poorly drawn flowers littering it and the mug itself is lopsided and poorly constructed. It would have been thrown out as trash, but this is Prophis' favorite mug.

Callisto smiles distantly as he thinks about the night that he made this mug with Prophis. It was far before the rift had happened and they had only just begun dating. The blond had the idea of doing a crafty date. Callisto was head-over-heels for Prophis and completely powerless to object -despite his general inability to do anything creative. He had made the mug -with Prophis' help, clearly- and had nervously given it to his then-boyfriend as a gift. He expected Prophis to put the ugly thing on a shelf, but it quickly became his favorite mug to drink anything from. Tea, coffee, water, never mattered to him.

After the Rift, it became Callisto's favorite mug, just as all of Prophis' favorite things became his favorites as well. His favorite mug became something for Callisto to drink from as he mourned his husband while he wore his husband's favorite shirt -which he hadn't taken off in days- and read his favorite book -a sappy romance that Callisto had never seen the appeal in but simply could not put it down even if it was his third read through.

He's pulled out of memory lane by the sound of muffled music. It's upbeat dance music that the man doesn't recognize as he follows the sound into the kitchen. Prophis, long white hair tied back in a messy bun, is dancing around the kitchen, singing, albeit poorly, along to the song.

The music is admittedly not Callisto's type, he prefers more classical-sounding music, but since Prophis' return, the elf's been obsessed with the more recent trends in music. He adores the upbeat nature of it and smiles every time any of the songs comes on.

Callisto notices that he must be cooking something as there are a number of ingredients scattered across the countertops and Prophis himself is dusted in flour and sugar and there appears to be chocolate streaked in his white hair.

The human watches from the doorway as his husband dances and spins, singing almost in key with the song. Somehow the Chaos God has yet to notice his husband as he returns to the oven and pulls out something that smells heavenly.

"Perfect!" Prophis says happily, hips still swinging side-to-side as he places it on the countertop. "Now I just need to taste-test the tea." Humming along to the music, Prophis blindly reaches for something to his left but finds nothing. He turns to look at the empty space and "hmphs" irritatedly as he starts to brush the powder off himself. "Must've left it in the living room- shit!" he yelps as he turns around and spots Callisto, dressed in his dark robes leaning against the doorway.

"Hello, love," Callisto says with a lopsided smile. "Did I scare you?"

The elf takes a moment to regain his composure before quickly and breathily saying, "Oh, just a little." He takes a deep breath, grounding himself, before walking over to his husband and giving him a kiss and melting into his arms. "How was work?"

"Awful, I don't think Doc breathed for the last two hours," Callisto laments as he holds onto Prophis, kissing his cheek before dropping his head to rest on Prophis' shoulder.

"Doc breathes?" Prophis counters feigning bewilderment.

Callisto pulls back and gives his husband a defeated look. "I'm beginning to question it."

Prophis barks a laugh. "I'm sorry, love," he comforts before his face lights up. "I made something for you!"

"Is it the thing you pulled out of the oven?" Callisto asks.

The elf stares at him for a moment before realization slowly dawns on his face. "How long were you standing there?" he asks slowly as the tips of his ears slowly turn pink.

"Long enough to see you dancing around the kitchen with chocolate in your hair," Callisto teases lovingly as he reaches up and wipes as much of the chocolatey goop up as he can. Prophis turns a brighter shade of red as the human pops the finger in his mouth. "It's quite good. What did you make?"

Prophis lights back up. "Oh, chocolate croissants!"

"Really now? Any reason why?" Callisto questions as he admires Prophis' smile, one of his favorite sights in all of Vontral and the eight realms.

"You had a long day of meetings and Doc ramblings," Prophis reasons, "And I know you like them."

Callisto smiles at his husband. "I certainly do like them, my dear."

Prophis kisses his cheek as he steps back. "I also made tea. I was going to taste-test it, but I left my mug in the other room."

"Do you mean this one?" Callisto holds out his husband's cup who stares at it for a moment before tentatively taking it from the human's hands.

"I still can't believe you kept this for seven hundred years," Prophis says quietly as he admires the subpar craftsmanship like it was handmade by the sculptors of old.

"It was your favorite, Gods know why, that thing is uglier than Glib, but it was still your favorite so I had to keep it for when you came back," Callisto explains easily and for the dozenth time since his husband has returned.

Prophis stares at the mug for another moment, turning it in his hands before looking up at the human with an amount of love that is not foreign to the elf's face, but nearly knocks him off his feet every time Callisto sees it. "I love it because the man I love made it for me."

They sit in a shared silence, both of them still, as if afraid any sudden movements would shatter the peace of it, only for the whistle of the kettle to startle them both.

Callisto glares at it as if it had murdered his family which only causes his husband to titter out a laugh.

"Tea's ready," Prophis says, walking swiftly over to take the pot off the eye and pouring the hot liquid into his mug, and getting another mug from the cabinet next to him and pouring some tea into it. "Here," he says as he hands the secondary cup to his husband.

"Thank you, my love," Callisto says as he takes the swiftly warming cup from Prophis.

"Anything for you," Prophis smiles.

[dndorkdoggo]

*Pre Rift Opening*

Aldor: I hate Prophis

Callisto: Yeah, he sucks

Aldor: Honestly, fuck him!

Callisto: …

Callisto: Is that an order?

[dndorkdoggo]

Flirting With Friends

Callisto is confident when he flirts… until Prophis flirts back.

Callisto/Prophis (1222 words)

~~

Callisto wasn’t a flirt. He never really saw the appeal in hitting on people who were just going about their day, hell he’d berated people for doing it before.

However.

He couldn’t help himself when it came to Prophis. He’d honestly been a little ashamed of it the first few times it happened because they weren’t exactly friends. Just classmates who happened to click easily and decided to study together. It didn’t help that Prophis was so hot that when he first walked into the library they had decided to study in, Callisto dropped his coffee and had to scramble to clean it up.

It had been on the third of these little library meet-ups -not dates, no matter what Aldor called them in his irritated monotone- that Prophis murmured, “Gods, this library is hot and there’s no glasses nor water anywhere.”

“You should drink me like a glass of water,” tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop it. His ears burned as his face swiftly became a bright crimson, but before he could stammer out an apology, Prophis was laughing.

“Smooth, Cal.” He paused and looked at the human before asking, “Can I call you Cal?”

Callisto tried to say something but no words came out of his mouth, so he shut it with a click and nodded rapidly.

Since then it became somewhat of a tradition for Callisto to teasingly hit on Prophis (“Hey handsome,” “You can quit bouncing that leg and I can give you something else to bounce on”), but Prophis only barely played along, often just letting Callisto say whatever he wanted before redirecting him to their work.

Callisto had checked several times if he had crossed any boundaries, only for Prophis to tell him that he was quite amused by it.

“Then why not flirt back with me?” Callisto had asked once.

Prophis smiled at him. “I like watching you try to say lewd things with a straight face, and if I play your game, you would never get any work done.”

So they continued their “game,” and today is no different.

“If I finish my work before 7 will you finally give me that kiss I’ve been asking for?” the human asks, knowing damn well there’s no way he can finish ten pages of notes in an hour, but it does seem like a good challenge.

Prophis slowly blinks at him before checking the time with a smile. “Actually, we have to end today’s session early.”

Callisto just barely catches the actual hurt that nearly flashes across his face and replaces it with overdramatic distress. “What?! Why?! How could you leave me like this?! How am I meant to finish my work without my handsome carrot on a stick?” he cries and Prophis shushes as a student walks past them, shooting them a dirty look.

“We can finish studying in my room, the library closes early today, remember?”

Somehow it had completely escaped Callisto's mind that today was the day that the library was closing early for its bimonthly deep clean, but that thought is quickly discarded as he realizes what Prophis just offered him.

“Your room?” he says slowly, pointedly ignoring the blush that creeps up his cheeks.

Prophis smiles his signature blinding smile as he watches Callisto’s confidence get yanked out from under him. “Yes, my room.” He leans in a little bit, smiling as he hoods his eyes slightly, “Oh, you know, just the place you’ve been begging to see for the last two months.”

“I wasn’t-” Callisto begins, voice small as Prophis inches closer and closer.

“Ah, but you were, pretty boy.”

Oh, that one was new and was certainly not doing the blush on his face any favors as the light pink quickly turned fiery red. It was always “Cal” or “Callisto,” it had never been any other pet names.

“P-pretty b- …?” he tries to repeat but his words fail him as Prophis stands from his seat and leans across the table and down into Callisto’s face.

One of the elf’s slender fingers gently pushes Callisto’s hair from his face and tucks it behind his ear before letting his hand linger on the human’s cheek. “My, my, aren’t you hot?”

“I- uh-”

“And your cheeks are quite warm, are you alright, darling?”

The statement and yet another pet name causes Callisto’s brain to short-circuit.

Prophis smiles as he trails his fingertips lightly down his face and neck before grabbing a fistful of the human’s collar and yanking him up so their noses nearly touch. The action causes an embarrassing noise to fall from Callisto’s mouth.

The elf makes an appreciative noise. “If that’s how you sound startled, I wonder how you’d sound under me?” Callisto’s jaw falls open.

The carefree, happy personality that Callisto had always associated with the elf was nowhere to be seen, and in its place was a personality that oozed confidence.

Prophis tsks. “What? Not going to flirt back? You have what you wanted.” His smile makes the human’s knees weak as he tries to sputter out a reply. “Unless,” he begins, slackening his grip. “You don’t actually want me.”

“I do!” Callisto says, slightly louder than he meant.

Prophis’ grip tightens immediately. “That’s what I thought.” He dips his head down as if he is going to kiss the dark-haired man before stopping and whispering, “Come on, pretty boy, play with me.”

“P- play?” he stutters, nearly desperate to get that kiss that he’s been asking for.

The elf pulls back and grins at him. “You know, flirt with me. You were so keen on it just a few moments ago.”

Callisto’s brain reboots before coming back online, though he has certainly lost his footing. “Of course, I’ll give you anything you asked if it means I can finally get a piece of that ass.” He aims for his casual smooth but misses the mark just barely, and Prophis grins wolfishly at him.

“Oh, come now, do you really think you want to be on top?” the elf asks, arching one of his naturally pristine eyebrows.

Callisto swallows his internal panic. “Of course, why wouldn’t I want to fuck the hottest piece of ass in all of Vontral?”

“Because you want to spread your pretty little legs and get fucked like a good whore for me,” Prophis answers as easily and confidently as he’d say the sky is blue. “And you know you’d do anything I asked.”

“I’m not that submissive,” Callisto lies through his teeth.

Prophis’ look hardens slightly and his voice lowers as he says, “Get on your knees.”

Callisto doesn’t hesitate as he drops to his knees and stares up at Prophis with his wide-blown pupils. He wants to be mad at his reaction or at Prophis’ audacity for making him do that, but when Prophis says, “Good boy,” all the fight is drained from his body. It’s at that moment he decides he really would do anything Prophis asks of him if it meant getting some praise in return.

The blonde smiles at him. “Now gather your things, we’re going back to my room so I can study the blush of your skin when you cum screaming my name.”

Callisto doesn’t say anything as he scrambles to comply, following Prophis on shaking legs as they leave the library.

[dndorkdoggo]

Heart Attack

Being a Chaos God has many downsides in the Convergence, suddenly losing control of your body is just one of them.

Prophis/Callisto (1602 words) CW for tick attacks/shut down

Content Warning for tick attacks

~~

Prophis stumbles through the door. At first glance, he would appear drunk as he sways and his head rocks, but Callisto can spot a magic surge like this one from miles away.

“Hey, love,” he says gently as Prophis staggers past him. “Is something wrong?”

The elf hums instead of responding as he lumbers into the kitchen. “Yeah- no, I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine, love. What’s wrong?” Callisto asks, following behind him.

“I’m just holding a couple of spells for Doc,” Prophis dismisses.

“A couple? How many is a couple?” Callisto asks, taking a few fast steps to catch up to his husband.

Prophis’ head turns a little further than is natural before the rest of him follows. “Five? Six?” he says before murmuring, “Or is it seven?” He shakes his head. “I don’t quite remember, but it’s not too much for a chaos god.”

“Five or six?” Callisto echoes. “Possibly seven? Love, I know you are a god, but you aren’t in Chaos Realm. That has to be tiring.” He reaches out to touch Prophis and he pulls back a little.

“I’ll be fine,” he dismisses.

Callisto studies him for a moment. “Why don’t you let me carry some?” he asks gently, flaring his chaos magic and holding out his hand in an offering.

“Callisto, I’m fine,” Prophis says again, but the fight is not present in his voice. “And these are some intense spells, I wouldn’t want to-”

“Exactly, even more reason for me to take one of the spells,” Callisto cuts him off, stepping a little closer to his husband. “Come on, love. You look like you’re about to fall over.”

Prophis thinks about it for another moment before carefully placing his hand in Callisto’s, holding it lightly as he closes his eyes. He murmurs a spell as he passes the magic through their connected hands. Callisto matches his words after a moment, his magic flaring up in turn.

Prophis’ touch turns suddenly rigid as he holds tightly to his husband before his eyes fly open. For a moment they are wide and unseeing, as the many colors in his pupils flitter around wildly expanding past their limits momentarily before his eyes settle onto his loving husband’s face. He smiles widely, having tenfold more energy now that he isn’t being weighed down by as many spells.

Callisto instantly picks up on the difference. “Are you alright, love?” the human asks, mildly distracted by keeping his spells active, as he reaches out to touch his husband.

The elf laughs a high, hollow, ringing laugh as he stumbles back, his legs feeling like jelly. “Never felt better!” He nods rapidly, head moving unnaturally fast before he seems to remember his human shape as goes unnaturally still. He feels alive, in a way he’s never felt before. He can feel and see everything, the whole world at his fingertips and he’s burning with the need to move, to seek it out, to find it.

“Are you sure?” Callisto asks reaching out again only to for Prophis to pull out of his hands like it burns him as he laughs again, more manic in tone.

“Just peachy! Peachy! Peachy!” he says before repeating the word over and over as he bobs his head, his smile pulled wide. He takes several steps back as he giggles, hands shaking back and forth at his sides, needing to do something, grab something, but nothing to hold onto.

“Darling?” Callisto asks quietly as Prophis trips over his feet and slams into a wall with enough force to knock a portrait off the wall, but his smile doesn’t leave and the manic look doesn’t falter.

“Ow,” he says distantly as he pushes off the wall and collides with Callisto, falling flat back onto the ground. He laughs again, as he rolls around, almost writhing on the floor. He breathes rapidly and seems to have a moment of clarity as he sits up, shaking and twitching. His smile falls and with wide eyes says, “No- something’s wrong.” He breathes shallowly and quickly, eyes darting around as his hands try to settle onto his legs, wringing his pants. The sinking feeling in his gut becomes more solid, more sickening. “Something’s very wrong.”

“Alright, love, talk to me,” Callisto says, instantly dropping to his knees next to his husband, his spells all but forgotten. “What’s happening?”

Prophis looks at him, head moving in half-aborted circles, and his eyes focusing and unfocusing on Callisto’s face, clearly fighting to stay still, to focus, but losing that fight. He can’t keep still, his hands wringing his pants or body involuntarily rocking back and forth as it twitches and jolts. Sitting still hurts, like fire in his veins making him try to fight his own body as it moves without his will. “I don’t know- don’t know- don’t know- know- I- I- I don’t- I-” He breathes shakily, a desperate plea in his eye.

“You’re okay, love,” Callisto soothes, reaching out and holding his hand just off the elf’s shoulder, an invitation but knowing better than to touch without permission. “Take your time.”

Instead of using words, Prophis crashes into his husband full force, hands scrabbling for purchase on Callisto’s clothing. He buries his head into the human’s shoulder as he tries to control his breathing. Callisto tries to wrap him in a hug, but when his left-hand touches the elf’s back he yelps and launches back onto his feet, moving erratically and making strange clicking noises as he stumbles back.

“Love?” Callisto, who has reserved several lifetimes of patience only for his husband, asks as he slowly stands to follow his husband.

“Spells,” he spits out. “Spells.”

Callisto tilts his head, trying to understand his erratic husband. “Spells? What about spells, darling?”

“Spells hurt.”

The human is still for a moment as he processes what that means. Before showing the chaos magic in his left hand. “This hurts?” he echoes, just to be sure he’s hearing right. Prophis nods rapidly before his head rolls unnaturally far back as he whistles involuntarily.

As soon as the elf confirms the human’s assumptions, the spells are dropped instantly. “Alright, love, what can I do?”

Prophis wants to cry. He’s lost control of himself again. It’s the chaos realm, the transformation, all over again. He’s lost control of his magic and he feels sick with the feeling. He knows Callisto is trying to help, but he doesn’t know how he can.

Prophis tentatively reaches out and touches him and as soon as he finds that his touch doesn’t burn, he collapses into his husband, trying to match his slow breathing as he buries his face into his neck. He tries to stay still but he keeps twitching and jolting with the fire in his blood, the little shocks of energy.

“Can we- can we lay down?” Prophis asks as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

Callisto nods. “Of course, love.” He tries to take a step back to lead Prophis to their bed, only to be half-dragged to the ground as his husband practically melts onto the cold stone floor, craving release from the heat. Prophis lays down and pulls Callisto to lie on his chest. The human bites down a laugh as he says, “I thought we were going to bed, love.”

“No, here,” Prophis says easily as his head thunks against the ground and he closes his eyes. The cold of the stone seeps upward and cools him off, allowing his mind to slow for the first time since this had begun. He twitches less and less as Callisto lays on top of him before fire flares suddenly, making him oppressively hot. He snaps up, throwing the human into his lap. Prophis pulls his clothes off, throwing them to the side, murmuring to himself as he does. Once most of his layers are off he starts pulling at Callisto’s clothes.

Callisto stills his husband’s hands. “My love, is now the time for-?”

“Hot,” Prophis says shaking his head.

“Hmm?” Callisto questions.

“Hot, hot,” Prophis repeats, pushing Callisto’s robes off his shoulders before falling back, bringing the human with him yet again. He buries one hand in Callisto’s hair while the other wraps tightly around his waist.

Callisto is still for a moment while Prophis’ breathing rapidly drops until he is still. “Love?” he asks, knowing that he isn’t dead -his heart is beating- but worried about the sudden change. When there is no response he asks again, “Love?”

He slowly sits up, dislodging his husband’s arms. Once he can see the elf’s face, he can see he is calmly sleeping. It’s an almost jarring contrast to the near-manic panic of just moments before.

For a moment, he isn’t sure what to do. On the one hand, his husband looks peaceful on the floor, but on the other, it's the cold hard floor that his, clearly sick, husband is sleeping on. He continues to watch his sleeping husband for another minute, but once he begins to slightly shiver, presumably from the cold, Callisto makes up his mind.

Callisto places his hand on his husband’s shoulder and uses a teleport spell to take them to their bedroom.

He pulls off the rest of his robes and puts on a pair of pajama pants. He briefly considers putting some on his husband before remembering the issue with being hot.

He tucks them into bed with practiced ease and his husband sinks into him, breathing a content sigh.

As Callisto drifts off, he listens to the peaceful, almost consistent, beating of his loving husband’s heart.

[dndorkdoggo]

Goodbid: I’m not single! Uh, Mercury and I are dating!

Glib: Huh?!

S.G.: What?!

Callisto: Really?

Mercury: That’s cool:)

[dndorkdoggo]

the last one is a whole mood

he needs his emotional support boyfriend

Callisto is having big feelings

[narrlsy]

I’m just dumping all of my Callisto and prophis art in one place. I really love them so much

Please give me things to draw for them