#emerald city cakes

[quixoticrobotic]

a post you rb inspired me to watch nimona!!!! incredible movie ty <3

I ACTUALLY STILL NEED TO WATCH THE MOVIE asdfdfgfdfgh I adore the comic, and im very happy for Nate Stevenson

[natalievoncatte]

Kara knows, and that’s the problem.

She knows.

How does she know?

To put it simply, she’s Kryptonian. More specifically: a Kryptonian under a yellow sun, whose wavelengths of light bring forth her genetic heritage when she basks in its rays. If long lost Rao was once her father, Sol is her mother, raising her up to be all that she can be. A creation of a lost super-science, a power to rival gods, a force that made the Guardians tremble in their emerald tower.

Kara can see everything.

The world is alive with light. It cascades and bounces and caroms off of everything. More than that, Kara’s world is bathed in a thousand thousand hues the human eye will never know. When she looks at a person she can see the electrical conductivity of their skin and the heat bloom of their flesh and a myriad of other details, some of which other humans can pick up on a subconscious level, others that humans haven’t even discovered yet.

Kara can hear everything.

She can hear dog whistles and butterfly wings beating and the secret language of cats. She can hear the crackle of radio waves beating the atmosphere and the music of the spheres. She can memorize human heartbeats and pick out the slightest variation, the tiniest wobble that the owner of the heart never feels.

Kara can smell everything. She can sift between the scents of ingredients in her honey bun, detect poisons in a friend’s wine or flowers in a park half a state away. Sharks would be jealous of her. She can scent people but also their moods; fear smells horrific, sickly sweet and rotten. Joy smells hot and bold. When someone walks in the room, she can tell what they had for breakfast, smell of they’re sick, pick out the fragrances of their emotions.

Kara can feel everything. A touch can betray or affirm. To hear a heartbeat is one thing, to feel it another. Her fingertips can read the surface of another’s skin like braille and she can detect the slightest changes in temperature or perspiration, feel the thrum of contentment or fear in an embrace. Her touch is not dulled by her invulnerability. It as sensitive as her other senses.

Kara can remember everything. The day she stepped from her pod into the brilliant golden sunlight beneath a blue sky was the last time she would every forget; her now empowered brain can recall events in the finest detail, down to the soft timbre of another’s voice or the way her hair fell over her shoulder or the softness in her gaze. And so Kara’s memory is hers to be kept forever, never to lose the sight of her.

That is how Kara knows, and knowing that Lena Luthor loves her is a pain so terrible that she almost wishes she could be spared that pain. When Lena sees Kara, her heart leaps and her breath softens and she comes alive with light, bathed in an auric glow more beautiful than a red sunrise. Kara wishes that Lena could see herself as Kara sees her. Radiant, angelic, a little holy.

Lena loves Kara Danvers, the bumbling awkward nerdy shy girl from Vaguely Canada who brings her burgers and donuts and OTPs.

She doesn’t love Supergirl and Kara doesn’t think she could.

That’s how the torture happens. Kara’s infinite perception becomes a self-imposed exile. She sees and smells the way James lusts after Lena, right in front of her. Baffled, she listens to the calm in her heart when they kiss and once she wakes frantically in the night, reaching about to sift through the city soundscape when she hears Lena’s voice cry out, then the sound of Lena’s heart racing and other sounds, and not for the first time, she pleads with a god she doesn’t know to make her human and free her from this curse.

She seeks feeling of her own. It’s pleasant enough but it lacks something undefinable, like a pleasant chocolate cake that becomes unbearable because she could have had something far sweeter and more filling instead. He tries in a fumbling way but it’s to please his own ego more than sate her desire. Then one day he is gone and in his absence all Kara can feel is a dull numbness, a ragged wound with all the nerves scraped out so that only a dull absence has been left behind, leaving her broken in a way that cannot be defined much less repaired.

Kara cannot help but snap her attention to the sound of Lena growing agitated, no matter how distant or minor. She hears harsh words and the heavy thud of a limo door closing and hears the sharp intake of breath as James realizes the mistake he’s made, and though he is her friend and he matters to him she feels a feral, possessive joy that borders on the cruel. It is a hard feeling, a red feeling, a sharp smelling mean feeling that tastes cold on her tongue, this resentment of the man for having a pale shadow of what she could have but wouldn’t.

Lena loves Kara Danvers and Kara Danvers loves her back, but she can never know because to know she must know all of her. Know the Other, the Super, the Alien.

Kara is two people and one of those people has been, well, a bitch.

Because Kara feels spending else. A green feeling, a sick feeling, the feeling of blades flensing flesh from bone while her veins turn to glass and her body burns to ash, the shocking pain of a little piece of home. A little piece that Lena made and didn’t tell her, and Kara makes the worst mistake.

She stops being Supergirl and is just Kara Danvers in a colorful suit, angrily refusing to ask Lena the question: I love you, how could you do this to me?

She does love her. She loves her laugh and her secret smiles and how soft she looks when she’s deep in thought. She loves the pain in her, the mirror of her own. She cherishes it as she wants hers to be cherished, held close by someone who knows what it’s like to watch your world explode or slip beneath still waters and be gone forever. She knows what it’s like to wonder what could have been and know the price you paid for what you have now.

She wants Lena so terribly that she’d almost choose the pain of Kryptonite instead of an eternity of this longing. She needs her, craves her, thirsts for her.

One night Kara realizes what she’s been doomed to. Another will succeed where James failed, and Kara will be spared none of it, and it will endure forever. She will carry memories of Lena in another’s arms into the sun dies.

No.

“I don’t know why I agreed to this,” Lena says.

Kara -Supergirl- says nothing at first.

“I have to fly you.”

Lena nods. She’s doing this for Kara, because Kara asked. When Supergirl extends a hand, Lena takes it and Kara gently lifts her from the ground into a bridal carry, and they fly.

The trip takes nearly an hour. Kara can’t fly too fast or too high. Lena accepts it without complaint.

They land far north of National City, where the warmer climate yields to deciduous rainforest. Kara brings them down on a bare hilltop, an island in a vast ocean of trees. Nearby on a folding table is a basket. It might be important later or it might not. She might have a life of joy or she might spend the rest of forever in a wasteland, waking each day to grief.

There’s only one way to find out. Part of her, the part that hopes, the part that makes her Supergirl, believes in this, in herself, in this moment. She has to, because the chain of events that led her here, flung across endless space to stand in starlight with the most beautiful woman in this world, it demands that it happen. This is fate. It has to be.

Supergirl stands beside Lena. She raises an arm and points.

“There. Second star on the left, and straight on till morning.”

Lena quirks an eyebrow and looks at her.

“You brought me out here for this?”

“Do you see that red light?” Kara asks. “It’s very faint. I don’t know if a human can see it or not.”

“I just see stars.”

“It’s Rao, my sun. I can see him. If I had a powerful enough telescope, I could see it. Krypton. The explosion won’t be visible to Earth for a thousand years.”

Lena looks up, her features bathed in moonlight- alive with a chaotic explosion of hues she’ll never see. She blazes in the night, her eyes a kaleidoscope from which Kara can never truly look away. She’s a rainbow.

Kara falters. Whatever she does tonight, this is it. This is forever.

“You said Kara would meet me here,” Lena says.

“Wait here, please.”

Kara turns quickly and walks into the dark, cape spreading behind her. Once she’s out of sight, she changes without restraining her speed, and walks back to Lena in a hoodie and leggings, hair in a loose ponytail and the back of her neck and hands in her pockets.

She walks back to Lena and stands beside her.

“Hello, Kara.”

“Hi, Lena.”

There is a tense silence between them. Kara devours the moment, consumes it so it will live forever, just in case this is the last time she sees Lena.

“We’re not far from the reservoir,” says Lena. “Why did you ask Supergirl to bring us here?”

Kara swallows hard. “I realized something really important near here.”

Lena turns to her. “What was that?”

“That there was someone who mattered to me a lot, and that I was willing to risk a lot to protect her. There was a moment where I thought I was going to have time make a choice, you or the chemicals. I didn’t have to but I would have. I would have picked you. I will always pick you. I can’t help it.”

Lena is not stunned. Her heart doesn’t miss a beat, but Kara can sense her apprehension, her fear, and something deeper than that.

“You’re Supergirl.”

Kara lets out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding and her legs wobble. There it is. It’s done. She’s free.

“I should have told you sooner.”

“You should have. You should have told me when we fought about the Kryptonite. I thought you would, hoped you would. I wanted you to so desperately, wanted you to trust me.”

Kara’s heart sinks.

“Wait, you knew? How?”

Lena laughs softly.

“The way you touch me. When you pick me up and carry me somewhere, you have this way about you. When I’m in your arms I feel like I’m the most precious thing in the world.”

“You are,” Kara says.

“That and you told me you flew to my office on a bus.”

Kara makes a small, choked sound.

“Oh.”

Lena scuffs the heel of her boot against the ground.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was scared. I thought if I did, you’d see it as a confrontation and feel threatened. What about you?”

“I’m Kara. Supergirl is something I do, not what I am. When I’m with you I’m just me. I lose that with everyone when they find out. Kara isn’t my secret identity. Supergirl is. I’m just me. I just want to be me, I need to be me, and when I’m with you I am most myself. It’s like laying down all my burdens.”

“Same,” Lena said, softly. “You’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like an extension of my brother.”

Kara sighed. “Should we talk about the Kryptonite?”

“No,” Lena says. “Fuck the Kryptonite. Why’d you bring me out here?”

“To tell you.”

“Great, you told me. What did you think would happen next?”

“I thought you’d be mad.”

Lena nods and seems to think about that for a moment. Her pulse has quickened and her jaw is tight.

“Let me ask you a different question. What did you want to happen?”

Kara swallowed hard. “What I wanted was… for us to make up. Be friends. Work it out. I don’t want to lose you.”

Lena turns and looks at her.

“Bullshit.”

Kara flinches.

“That’s bullshit, Kara, and we both know it. You’re a terrible liar. I wouldn’t be surprised if half the staff at CatCo know who you are. Don’t lie to me. Please. Give me the truth.”

Kara looks up briefly, past Lena. She sees that faint red glow and her heart swells in her chest.

“I love you. That’s the truth. I’ve been in love with you probably since our first lunch together and I want you so badly that I can’t breathe when I think about it. I know a dozen languages and half of them aren’t from Earth, and there aren’t enough words in all of them to tell you how kind and wonderful and beautiful you are. I love you so much that sometimes I think,” Kara fights the tightening of her throat, “I think I’m almost glad that I’m here and not back up there under that red glow. I don’t think I could choose a life without you.”

Lena lets out a long breath and Kara is bombarded with sensations. Lena’s pulse races and her shoulders relax and her skin blooms with an ethereal luminous riot of color.

“I’ll never lie to you again. I promise.”

Kara can taste everything.

Right now the only thing she can taste is Lena.

[psychicreadsgirl]

Pick a Novel: Keywords/prominent themes in your life

Pick the novel that draws your attention the most. If you can't decide between two, then look at the 2 readings. This is a general reading, so not everything will apply. Please take what resonates and leave what doesn't behind!

#1

Keywords: love, lust, passion, fun, temperament, cafe, sweet, bicycle, pen, books, music, loyalty, winter, sofa, furniture, thoughts, light, intuition, soulmate, art, obsidian, cake, carbonated water, skincare, socks, cooking

Celebrities/Public Figures: Audrey Hepburn, Min Yoongi, IU, Claude Monet, Angela Merkel, Andrew Carnegie, John Johnson, Mark Zuckerberg, Larry Page, Howard Schultz, Sam Walton, Amancio Ortega, Queen Elizabeth I, Jane Austen, Jennie Kim

Countries: Italy, Canada, South Africa, Thailand, Saudi Arabia, Singapore, Greece, Madagascar, Qatar, Sweden, Zambia, Taiwan, Solomon Islands

Numbers: 11, 1, 5, 9, 80, 888, 6

Brands: Hermes, Tiffany, Apple, Instagram, Taobao, Lamborghini, Deloitte, Microsoft, Chopard, Givenchy, Patek Phillipe, Chloe, Alaia, Kraft,

Kpop songs: Young Forever by BTS, Shine by PENTAGON, Me Gustas Tu by GFRIEND, Run to You by DJ DOC, Love Lee by AKMU, Deja vu by TXT, Back Down by P1Harmony, Love shot by EXO

#2

Keywords: economy, job loss, new opportunities, play, drama, anger, frustration, lost, compass, computers, battery, feet, head, brain, summer, pearl, avocado, junk food, fried chicken, challenge, frugal

Celebrities/Public Figures: Grace Kelly, Billie Eilish, Keanu Reeves, Rosé, Jung Hoseok, Salma Hayek, Pablo Picasso, Princess Diana, Thomas Edison, Sergey Brin, Mary I, William Shakespeare, Lee Nayeon

Countries: New Zealand, USA, Maldives, Indonesia, United Kingdom, Venezuela, Lithuania, Nepal, Portugal, Poland, Lebanon, Mali, Netherlands

Numbers: 4, 99, 101, 33, 13, 14, 0

Brands: Masion Margiela, Amazon, facebook, Shein, PWC, Missoni, Moschino Couture, Toyota, citi bank, Chaumet, Polene, Pizza Hut,

Kpop songs: Love Dive by IVE, Shangri-la by VIXX, Sweety by Clazziquai, I NEED U by BTS, The Chaser by Infinite, Magnetic by ILLIT, My House by 2PM, ICY by ITZY

#3

Keywords: tales, gossip, lies, funny, movies, theatre, cell phone, cool, kpop, magenta, ancient, history, claws, cats, tiger, fall, jealousy, games, aquamarine, lemons, makeup, pencil, groceries

Celebrities/Public Figures: Beyonce, Lady Gaga, Morgan Freeman, Kim Seokjin, Jang Wonyoung, Matt Damon, Napoleon Bonaparte, Shinzo Abe, Steve Jobs, Voltaire, Kim Jisoo,

Countries: Ethiopia, France, Russia, Ireland, Argentina, Afghanistan, Libya, Rwanda, Nigeria, Pakistan, Morocco, Malta, Kazakhstan, Kenya, Iraq,

Numbers: 2, 7, 69, 25, 55, 79, 1182

Brands: Saint Laurent, miumiu, Starbucks, Mercedez-Benz, Nestle, Oracle, Tod's, Bulgari, Rolex, KFC, SUBWAY, Carrefour, Kellog's

Kpop songs: Supernova by aespa, Maestro by seventeen, Not by the moon by GOT7, Alone by Sistar, Hip by MAMAMOO, Good Day by IU, Bite Me by ENHYPEN, Work by ATEEZ, The Feels by TWICE

#4

Keywords: foreign, spicy, peppery, rice, no, objection, resistance, control, storms, thunderstorms, shower, tension, crush, pop, paper, mango, legs, fragrance, emerald, clothing rack, tomatoes, defeat,

Celebrities/Public Figures: Judy Garland, Margot Robbie, G-Dragon, Jeon Jungkook, Pharrell Williams, Emmanuel Macron, Bill Clinton, King Charles, Warren Buffet, Cleopatra, Kim Mingyu

Countries: South Korea, Philippines, Scotland, Spain, Albania, Guatemala, Malaysia, Iran, Romania, Honduras, Georgia, Croatia, Belgium, Czech Republic, Gambia, Guinea

Numbers: 31, 75, 412, 43, 486, 640

Brands: Chanel, Prada, Bentley, Gucci, Samsung, Disney, BMW, Hyundai, cisco, Van Cleefs & Arpels, Dior, Loro Piana, Shake Shack

Kpop songs: Gee by SNSD, If you by BIGBANG, Antifragile by LE SSERAFIM, Up and Down by EXID, OMG by NewJeans, Lion by (G)I-DLE, Hello by TREASURE,

#5

Keywords: death, mystery, mirror, reflection, shadow, black, grey, white, funeral, video, sprint, pool, gym, streets, metro, subway, chocolate, broken, knees, moon, ruby, surgery, teeth, race

Celebrities/Public Figures: Marilyn Monroe, Barack Obama, Kate Winslet, Kim Taehyung, Aamir Khan, Marie Antoinette, Elon Musk, Robert F Kennedy, Jeff Bezos, Richard Branson, Edward VIII, Charles Dickens, Abraham Lincoln, Park Bogum,

Countries: North Korea, China, Vietnam, Brazil, Bangladesh, Cambodia, Germany, India, Israel, Laos, Haiti, Dominican Republic, Congo, Cuba, Egypt, Mongolia

Numbers: 3, 97, 17, 19, 52, 98

Brands: Ralph Lauren, Celine, Ferrari, Huawei, Uber, intel, UPS, Calvin Klein, Piaget, Guerlain, Berluti, Pepsi, Cadbury

Kpop songs: Shut down by Blackpink, Seven by Jeon Jungkook, God's Menu by Stray Kids, Love Love Love by Epik High, Very Nice by SEVENTEEN, Birthday by Jeon Somi, Psycho by Red Velvet,

#6

Keywords: travel, toxic, break away, departure, memory, dreams, truth, unveil, diary, journal, coffee, jacket, shoes, hands, social media, news, competition, autumn, diamonds, electricity, TV, cheat, fashion

Celebrities/Public Figures: Jane Birkin, Kim Jiwon, Gigi Hadid, Charlize Theron, Park Jimin, Salman bin Abdulaziz Al Saud, Maximilien Robespierre, Bill Gates, Queen Elizabeth II, Vladimir Putin, Henry Ford, James Joyce, Lalisa Manobal

Countries: Japan, Australia, Mexico, Iceland, Finland, Eritrea, Ecuador, Costa Rica, Cyprus, Bolivia, Botswana, Bahamas,

Numbers: 8, 646, 152, 37, 49, 22

Brands: Louis Vuitton, Lexus, Tesla, Fendi, Walmart, Nike, Siemens, Google, Cartier, Burberry, Ferragamo, Burger King, Unilever

Kpop songs: ROCKSTAR by LISA, Cherry bomb by NCT 127, Move by Taemin, Dramarama by MONSTA X, Love Scenario by iKON, Get a Guitar by RIIZE, Replay by SHINee, Candy Sugar Pop by ASTRO, Mr. Simple by Super Junior

[crazymadpassionatelove]

Cool Fiancè

Notes: 18+ sex mentioned

Special shout-out to @ab4eva and her fabulous editing skills! This is the second installment in my cool girl saga. Read Part 1 here

---

Five Things to know about Austin Butler’s New Fiance ::

Although his reps couldn't be reached for comment, sources close to the Elvis actor confirm he has popped the question to his mysterious lady love!

Butler and the stunning brunette were recently spotted at the iconic Les Puces market in Paris last Friday, and she seemed to be sporting a new accessory. Austin was dressed in a black leather jacket, a white v neck tee, and black moto boots. She was clad in a classic trench coat and vintage Dior kitten heels as she kept her head down and let the winner lead the way. His face was mostly obscured by aviator sunglasses, but his smile was very apparent according to onlookers. “Austin was holding her hand and pointing out jewelry at different booths. They were very friendly with local vendors and Austin ended up buying her a gold charm bracelet. He told the dealer the bracelet was a momento to celebrate their recent engagement,” a fellow American tourist overheard. The twosome reportedly spent the prior week soaking in the city of lights and meeting with the YSL fashion house. Austin was recently tapped as the brand's newest ambassador.

Since returning stateside paparazzi pics have finally surfaced and revealed a closer look at that ring. Montana based indie jeweler Jada Kaye has been revealed as the designer of that serious sparkler. The 5 carat, flawless emerald-cut emerald is set in solid gold and flanked by two white diamonds on either side. Inside sources told Elle Magazine that Kaye and Butler worked closely together to craft the one of a kind creation. There's even rumored to be an inscription on the inside that's significant to the couple and the ring is estimated to cost a cool $100,000. Austin's fiancè was photographed heading into a ballet studio yesterday wearing pink tights, a pink leotard, Ugg boots, and of course that ring. Her curly dark brown hair was slicked back into a bun and she seemed to be sporting a pair of the actor's sunglasses.

Here's everything you need to know about the future Mrs. Austin Butler;

She's from New England —

A, as she's known, was born in Rhode Island. She grew up splitting her time between Rhode Island and Kennebunkport, Maine. Her teenage years were spent working the local Del’s lemonade truck, former neighbors say. She attended the Rhode Island School of Design after high school but never graduated.

She and Austin met via her former job –

Whilst working at the New York location of Vibrant Vintage, A, served as the fashion archives buyer. She also happened to be on hand when Butler visited the store. Supposedly she helped him find the perfect pair of leather boots, and the rest is history. Things clearly moved quickly between the two lovebirds, with A relocating to Los Angeles not long after. According to Vibrant Vintage, she is no longer employed there but “remains a close friend and consultant,” says their PR team.

She's a hit with his friends –

She organized a birthday party for her man’s co-star and close friend, Callum Turner. Turner posted an Instagram story showing off a fairly large garden party celebration and a “homemade blueberry glaze cake” according to the post. “Huge thanks to Austin's lovely lady xx” accompanied the video footage. She and Austin were also seen dining with his other Masters of the Air co-star, Nate Mann, while in Paris recently.

They've (supposedly ) got matching ink –

An unnamed employee at the iconic Bang Bang tattoo in NYC has said that Austin and A made a late night visit to the tattoo studio. Where exactly are the said-to-be matching minimalistic tattoos? Reportedly, Austin was inked on his left hip and A on her inner left thigh.

Old fashioned love letters are her thing -

Notably social media shy, Austin and A have taken up the lost art of handwritten love notes. Sources exclusively say that custom monogrammed stationery was crafted for the duo whilst Austin was filming in England. The hand pressed, vintage inspired paper bears a unique coat of arms style symbol with intertwining letter A’s and two sparrows (Fun fact! Sparrows mate for life and always find their way back, no matter how far they fly). While separated, the couple often writes letters to one another, even having the letters sent via jet instead of mail for privacy reasons!

_______

Suddenly one morning articles begin to pour in about your engagement. It catches you off guard, that ring akin to a skating rink has been sitting pretty on your hand for a bit now. The engagement had happened so naturally as everything with the two of you seems to. In the early morning hours while his swollen, rock hard member thrusts into you repeatedly you begin to awaken. On your side, his teeth clamp down on your shoulder as his finger twirls round the curls at the nape of your neck.

His gasps and needy groans tickle your ear. “Couldn't help myself..”, he shudders as you suddenly clamp down around him, barely able to register it all. You stretch and arch, allowing him the room and space to take what he needs. It is his after all. His teeth and pillowy soft lips mark your shoulder blades and when you reach down to where the two of you are joined, you feel his very full balls. Your newly manicured fingers tease and tug the best you can, scrunched up like some sort of acrobat. “Ugh, ugh…baby… you're gonna make me -”. Then he does. Hot, viscous, cream floods you and makes you sigh in a contented whimper. “Thanks darlin’,” he pets your head and you close your eyes dreamily. That is until you hear him rustling around in the bedside table next to him.

You cock open an eye, figuring he's looking for smokes or even the book he had been reading late last night. Your hands are stretched above your head, gripping a pillow. The perfect position for him to suddenly slip the most gorgeous piece of jewelry you've ever seen onto your finger. When your eyes shoot open and you jump up, he's lying there grinning that smile that makes you weak at the knees. “Will you be my wife?” As if your answer would be anything but yes, please Daddy. You smother him in kisses, straddling him and giggling. It's the perfect moment, the perfect proposal. You were never one to want a fireworks display or heaven forbid, those ridiculous and wasteful walls of flowers other celebrities seem to have for every occasion. This private, simple moment is everything you could ask for.

You feel the sudden urge to take him in your mouth despite him just finishing. With your head hanging off the side of the bed, you take him down your throat. Choking and gagging, you really give it your all. Fighting to keep your eyes open so you can see the way his lip curls and his eyes slam shut. Talking is always your thing. This time, though, he's sputtering and rasping words of utter devotion and love. Promises to worship your body until the day he dies. My perfect, perfect wife. Soon you can't be sure if the tears are from his cock down your throat, or his beautiful words. Maybe both. Those pretty boy fingers twist and tug on your nipples and then crawl lower and flick that special spot. The only fireworks you enjoy happen, twice for you actually. He's so dutiful and charming, when you're done pulling yourself back together and fixing your hair, he's handing you a surprise glass of champagne. What a way to mark the occasion.

You decline a proper press announcement. Phone and FaceTime calls follow to those who truly matter to you both - your families, both absolutely thrilled. Then Baz, Cal, The Presley's, everyone can't stop gushing about how perfect you are for each other. That ring, oh how sweet he designed it himself. You come up with a family-appropriate story to describe the proposal and the evening that followed, conveniently leaving out the mind-blowing sex the two of you have all over the house and in the hot tub. Why do things feel so different now that you're engaged? You can't get over the way the light hits the ring as you stroke him and something in that dirty girl heart of yours feels like it's really, truly, official when you have to clean his cum off the stone.

He's due back to set for some reshoots a few days later and of course you follow. Bringing throw pillows from your living room to spruce up his trailer and plotting out how to plan the most private, under the radar wedding possible while you lounge in his trailer in a cute little dress you sew yourself from vintage scarves bought in London. Your newest hobby, that and the ballet classes. He yammers on and on about wanting to sneak in and see you dance. You're sure it's just the tights and leotards spurring his interest though, let's be real. The paparazzi are as relentless as ever, but head down with big sunglasses helps keep the chaos at bay.

You visit Disney World, a whole crew, the two of you, your families, friends with their little ones. Thankfully Disney security is familiar with celebrity guests and you can actually let your guard down for once. Which is good, because seeing Austin chase after your friend's newly toddling little ones makes your stomach flip flop with joy. You make a mental note to expedite the wedding plans, he makes it known that he's chomping at the bit to be a father. When you visit Main Street, you decide a pair of new Mickey ears are in order. Gold stitching with Mrs. Butler is what you finally decide on after Austin's encouragement, his hand on your lower back as you walk miles and miles around the park with hands full of churros and cotton candy. Sure, some overzealous fans snap cell phone pics of you with your ears and immediately post them to those ridiculous Austin fan blogs who've now decided you are the evil villain in his story. You won't allow them to burst your Disney bubble though. Your fairytale is just beginning after all.

__

[unholyhelbig]

part 4 mob boss mommy *i mean natty oops*

Title: The Oversight [Part 4/7]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Wordcount: 4325

Warnings: Gun imagery, heights, unecessary tension, horrible grammar, and funnel cake

[A/n: Heads up, I wrote this while I had the flu & a pretty bad fever, so it's not my greatest work. Thank you all for the postive feedback!]

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

“Hit me.” Natasha’s words were growled, a low rumble compared to the warm spring breeze that produced nothing but a balmy environment. Sweat glossed her collarbone, moved against expanses of skin that you had let yourself imagine, but had never seen. She was a distraction, despite being your instructor.

Her wrapped fist made contact with your jaw, a metallic taste coating your tongue. You let out a grunt of protest, fingers quickly working against the area to ease the throbbing pain. “That wasn’t fair,”

“You think they’re going to play fair? Focus up. Hit me.”

There was something about being this close to Natasha that formed a pit in your stomach. You were meant to have skin on skin contact, though most of your mornings for the past two weeks had been spent at the gun range, she had deemed you ready enough to learn how to fight. It was an art, you figured, not just something you could blindly go into.

For the first fifteen minutes of your day, you had watched Natasha and Kate spar. Yelena was standing next to you, a borderline predatory gaze on her face. You’d realized that it was one of the only emotions she harbored, and that Clint was rightful in his fear. Still, her attention was not focused on you, and that was good enough for the time being.

Instead, it was homed in on Kate. “I have been teaching her for nearly a year now.”

“She’s good.”

“You do not have to lie, y/n. She’s sloppy, reckless. Look how calculated Natalia is.”

Those emerald eyes were tracking every move the taller girl made. She’d initiated contact with Kate’s ribs, with her knees, and her shoulders. She’d fallen to the grass more times than you could count, but she still got up. That’s what seemed to count around here. Even as green a brown stained her workout gear, and as purple blotches of dead blood rose to the surface of her skin.

“It pays to learn fighting styles. That is something the Danver’s family does not understand. They hire whoever they can. Bodies over skill, it can work in some situations, but not all.”

“When did this… war start?”

“Mm, the power struggle has been raging for decades. Our parents, and their parents, and their parents before them. Both of us were trained to take over the family business. Men, they fight with their hearts and not their heads. When Carol and Natalia took up the mantel, things only got worse.”

You felt silly, growing up on these city blocks, and not realizing that a fight bigger than yourself was raging just within the shadows. You supposed that was a good thing. If you knew, you’d have taken Ronnie out of here in a second.

Kate hit the ground for a fourth time, the air knocked out of her lungs. She still had enough left to groan and prop herself up on her elbows. Natasha chuckled, the sound bubbling past her lips. This was much too fun for her.

“She is fragile.” Yelena nudged you with her arm. You frowned. Kate accepted the outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled to her feet. She looked dazed. “Do not tell her I said so, but she was looking for a project. You have to give it your all. For both of your sakes.”

You drew in a breath to respond, but Yelena clapped a hand on your back before taking a step toward the dueling duo. “Alright Nat! I think you’ve tortured Kate Bishop enough. Do not break her.”

Kate was bouncing back and forth on the balls of her feet, her fists raised in a defensive position. Her lip was split, rusty crimson against the corner of her mouth. “I can do this all day.”

“You do not have to.” Yelena’s nose scrunched up “You stink. Go take a shower.”

The blonde shoved Kate playfully towards the house, trailing behind her and murmuring things in Russian. She’d left you alone with Natasha, something you had become quite accustomed to. In your workout gear, you felt more than a little exposed, her stare raking up and down your form before her cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink than they already were.

The two of you had sat on the lawn chairs as she wrapped your knuckles, had you punch the palm of her hand to see how much blowback it would cause. You were holding back, and you both knew it. Her last command had been non-negotiable.

When you swung your right hand towards her jaw, Natasha wrapped her fingers around your wrist. She had flipped you onto the ground with enough force to knock the air from your lungs. You’d flailed in panic instead of going limp like Kate had.

You’d dragged Natasha down on top of you. Her body weight was warm from the beating sun, her elbows on either side of your head. Natasha’s knee was between yours, pressing into your core. You let out a small gasp at the sensation, pulling in her musky scent of sweat and clove.

Stray strands of russet hair framed Natasha’s face as she peered down at you, her chest heaving, each breath pushing her closer to you. Her nose was brushed against yours. The two of you were impossibly close, soul-crushingly so. You were certain that she could feel your heartbeat through your shirt.

She made a quite noise “Pet, if you wanted to get me on top of you, all you had to do was ask.”

Your gaze had given you away, and Natasha suddenly had a shit-eating grin against her lips. You hooked your legs against hers an arm wrapping around her waist. In a smooth move, you had her flipped against the grass, eyes reflecting the blue of the cloudless sky. She nearly seemed impressed, and you preened at the stare.

That was before her knee came up and knocked the wind out of you for the second time. You grunted, rolling off her. The two of you stared up at the sky for a few moments before she hoisted herself up and offered you a hand. You batted it away out of habit, rising on your own.

“When you fall, you fall with grace.” Natasha said, her voice stoney, right back to her serious self. “That way you don’t end up like we just were.”

“And if they ask?” you lifted an eyebrow at her, a hint of malice in her voice. She took a step closer to you, and that ever-intoxicating scent filled your lungs once more. Your ribs still ached from her kick, fingers massaging the sore spot. However, all of your movement halted.

Her voice was murmured and rusty. “I don’t want anyone else on top of you.”

“Okay,” You whispered, throat suddenly tight. “Then show me how.”

Veronica had the excited reflection of light in her eyes. They scanned the traveling fair that had been set up in the park bordering the harbor and a square city block. Each year, tents with local vendors would go up, rides and carnival games in their stead.

The scent of kettle corn filled your lungs, a mix of sweet and salty that reminded you of your own childhood spent here. It was the one constant that every foster family took part in. Sometimes you’d be given a stack of tickets, others, you’d get enough for a large cup of the best lemonade you had ever tasted.

Her hand tightened around yours, squeezing in excitement. Despite your current situation, you couldn’t help but smile. The soft sound of music and the light breeze was enough to make your forget about your aching muscles, and the light sweater that you had thrown on to hide the bruising against your shoulders, your arms, and collarbone. Natasha had really done a number on you.

“Jimmy is a nice guy, he really is, but the whole magic thing is driving me nuts.” Darcy used her forefingers to pinch off a bit of blue cotton candy, shoving it into her mouth. She talked around the melting sugar. “Seriously, he spilled my coffee all over my lap attempting a card trick and then attempted to mop it up with a never-ending handkerchief.”

You snickered at that, earning a look cut from glass. “What? I’m sorry about your drycleaning, but it is kind of funny.”

“Yeah, whatever. I just have to grow a backbone. He doesn’t try to pull that shit with Monica. No one tries to pull that shit with her.” She knelt in front of Ronnie, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “You’re not going to tolerate stupid magic tricks, are you?”

She was met with a silent, but amused stare, her eyebrow lifted. You’d been leveled with that look more than once yourself. It dissolved you into more laughter. “Alright, alright. No magic for the kid. Does the Ferris Wheel count as magic?”

“Well sure, but only at the worlds fair.”

You rolled your eyes but effectively tugged them both into the line. It had always been one of your favorites. It gave you a good look at the city you called home. Of course, your view of that city had been stunted lately. It never truly changed the beauty of the lights and the way they reflected off the water.

Your shoulder came in contact with chilled leather, your attention having been trained on fishing through your pockets for the small red tickets. Your eyes shot up, ready to rush out an apology until the words stopped in your throat.

Seeing Natasha outside of her manor was jarring. She looked nearly the same, a tight-fitting black T-shirt and a leather jacket draped over her shoulders. Her hair was loose, unlike it was at training earlier in the day, cascading down her shoulders. Her make-up was light, her unripe stare pouring into yours. That bewilderment melted into her cool exterior as if it were never there in the first place.

“Natasha,” the word poured from your lips before you could stop it, and the corner of her mouth quirked up in amusement. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I can take a hit” She stated matter-of-factly. You were well aware of the fact, and you had to stifle a shiver as it worked its way down your spine. Hours before she had been nestled so perfectly on top of you.

Your cheeks heated up and you glanced sparingly at your friend, her own eyes going back and forth between the both of you. It was then that you noticed Clint, towering over Natasha with his arms crossed over his chest. He gave you a finger wave, and you lifted your chin in return.

“I’m Darcy, you are?” She was beyond forward, and it made you internally cringe. She reached her hand out to the very woman that ran the city. It was like sticking your hand in the lions enclosure covered in steak sauce.

“Natasha,” her words dripped with a subtle hint of her accent “This is Clint.”

“Howdy,” he knelt then, Veronica was clinging tightly to your leg, peeking around tentatively. She hugged you closer as he spoke. “You must be Veronica.”

The woman in front of you softened as you had never seen before. Her eyes grew brighter, though you could pin that on the circulating lights of the Ferris Wheel. There was a genuine smile on her lips as she looked at the girl who hugged you ever close.

“She doesn’t talk much, I’m afraid.” Your hand moved comfortingly to her shoulder. Ronnie seemed comfortable, if not excited about the rides that were teeming around them.  

Nat smiled at you “Oh, I’m sure she’ll speak when she has something to say.”

Ronnie’s death-grip on your leg seemed to loosen a bit as Clint straightened up. Darcy continued to scrutinize you and Natasha, something mischievous in her stare that you didn’t exactly care for. She rocked back and forth on her feet and directed her attention to Clint.

“How good are you at skeeball?”

“An absolute beast.” Clint replied.

“What do you say to a challenge? I bet I can kick your ass with the power of science. Winner springs for funnel cake.”

You picked up on the subtle look Clint gave Natasha and the even more subtle wave that she responded with. She blew an amused breath. Darcy stretched her hand towards Ronnie and wiggled her finger. “Kid, you staying or going?”

This time, Ronnie looked up at you for confirmation and you gave her a small, encouraging nod. She dislodged herself and wrapped her hand around Darcy’s. The promise of flaky and sweet funnel cake topped with powdered sugar was too tantalizing.

Admittedly, you were used to being left alone with Natasha at this point. Though it had mostly been in a business capacity. She seemed almost shy now, the line for the Ferris Wheel inching ever so closer.

“We can still go on, if you want.” She suggested.

“Yeah, yes. Of course.” You replied, “that would be lovely.”

“Your friend is very persistent.”

“She’s harmless, really.”

“And your daughter. She’s beautiful.” Natasha shoved her hands into her pockets, the two of you inching closer in line. “Just like her mother.”

Once again, you could feel the breath lodge in your throat, your cheeks flushing with fire. She was so bold at moments, and you remained silent in your conquest. There was no telling what was overstepping, though she blinked at you expectantly.

You fumbled dumbly with the tickets in your pockets, presenting them to the attendant. You both ended up in a cherry red car lined with nice leather cushions. Natasha’s thigh was warm against yours, her thick scent coating your lungs. Her arm was around the back of the cart, and a familiar sense of safety settled within you.

“You worry about her,” Natasha said to fill the silence as they loaded each cart. It lurched forward and back, making your stomach turn. “I didn’t start speaking until I was nine years old. My mother, she was so concerned that she rushed to be every specialist that money could buy. Whole days spent driving to different counties, just for them to say that same thing. Nothing is wrong, and I’ll talk when I’m ready.”

“What was that moment? The one where you were ready?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “The thing about being quiet, is that people tend not to notice when you’re in the room. My father protected Yelena and I from his world for as long as he could, but eavesdroppers hear no good of themselves, and others. I watched him give a man his last drink before shooting him between the eyes.”

“Fuck, Natasha.” You murmured.

“He doesn’t know I saw that. I ran as quietly as I could back to my room and hid under the duvet like a child. Something snapped in me that day and I no longer wanted to be silent. I suppose the fear of displeasing either of them ebbed the words from me.”

She was being vulnerable in front of you, a side that you had never seen. There were always her subtle touches, and her purred words that would hit the pit of your stomach. You’d watch as she gave unwavering commands to Clint, to Yelena and Kate. But this was different. This was her.

The city sparkled around you. Tricolored lights reflected off the blackness of the causeways that lapped listlessly at the harbor. If you squinted, you could almost make out the mansion where you spent most of your time.

The carnival buzzed below. Her scent was overwhelming, so warm and welcoming despite her danger. And dangerous she was. It was alluring, exciting. You looked at her, eyes pouring with emotion. Not so much pity, as she would snap your wrist at the fact. But a simple understanding.

Tentatively, you reached up and cupped her cheek. You both were too far above the ground to be realized and the simple gesture was one of good faith. Surprisingly, she leaned into your touch, making a quiet, relieved noise.

Your voice was whispered, “You didn’t deserve that. You were just a kid.”

She had closed her eyes, reveling in the warmth of your contact. Her features were so soft, so broken in this moment that you resisted the urge to kiss her frown away. Before you could contemplate it, the Ferris Wheel lurched and she gently took her fingers and wrapped them around your wrist, lowering both of your hands into her lap.

“She’ll talk,” Natasha gave your hand a squeeze “give her time.”

Natasha cleared her throat as the cart neared the end of its journey. She pulled away entirely, her arm still along the back of the seat. When she leaned closer, you could feel the weight of the gun in the inside pocket of her jacket. Seriousness had lidded over her eyes once more.

“We have a job tonight, and I want you to come along.” She said, breath hot on your collarbone.

You were suddenly snapped back to reality. Natasha was in fact the head of a crime ring that you had unwittingly stumbled into. Up until now, aside from the brutal beating, it had almost felt like child’s play. She’d relearned you how to shoot, and you knew the very basics of fighting. But, you were far from her Winter Soldier stand in. You weren’t even a toy soldier.

She sensed your hesitancy. “I have a meeting at a restaurant downtown. It’s not going to go south, but if it does, I need you there. You won’t be alone.”

“Clint?” You asked.

She shook her head “guys got a family of his own, he must spend some time with them outside of work hours. Kate.”

You fought back the noise that threatened to escape your throat. You didn’t doubt Kate, but you certainly doubted yourself. You didn’t have your own weapon, and the threat of leaving a restaurant with a bullet lodged between your ribs became very real, very quickly.

She chuckled at that, “I trust her. I trust you. Just stand there and follow her lead. Look hot and intimidating.”

“Is hot really a requirement?”

“Not really, but you pull it off.” There was a switch in her again, one that had been flipped effortlessly as she grabbed the collar of your sweater and pulled you impossibly close. You were nearly sitting in her lap. “Don’t fail me on this, y/n. It’s imperative that you do as you’re told.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You swallowed thickly as her hands wandered your side expertly. It took you a moment to realize that she had pulled the gun from her own coat and silently transferred it to yours before she released her hold on you. You had admit that you missed the touch instantly.

She stood from the cart when the attendant unlocked the door, reaching her hand out to you. You took it was ease, letting her help you onto the metal dismount. There were no words exchanged as you readjusted the weapon as slyly as you could muster, hands shoved into your pockets a moment later.

“I don’t know what to tell you, dude.” You could hear Darcy’s voice from within the crowds. It was easy to spot them, and you swore you saw the ghost of a smile on Natasha’s face. “The kid kicked both of our asses. Split the difference and pay up.”

“Yeah, fine.” Clint fished out his wallet and placed a couple of bills in Darcy’s waiting palm. “The price of carnival food these days is outrageous.”

Kate had presented you with a leather holster that fit snuggly around your chest and abdomen. She’d tightened the straps, your arms halfway raised. It felt a bit like a dressing room at the mall, her breath hot on your cheek as she tugged the center strap to make sure it was secure.

“Natasha likes us to be presentable.” She handed you a dark jacket to throw over the contraption. “Inconspicuous and deadly. But still presentable.”

You followed Kate’s lead. Natasha was to drive to the restaurant, and the two of you were to follow in a separate car. It was important to stay quiet unless you were spoken to directly by Natasha. Kate seemed at ease on the ride over, drumming her fingers against the steering wheel to an incoherent pop song.

The holster pinched you uncomfortably, but you were so deep into your own fear, your own reluctance, to pay much attention. Kate shot you a look, hard in her nature, and then softer when she glanced at you a second time.

“You’re much too tense” she flicked off the radio, delving you into a comfortable silence. “Lower your shoulders and relax. It’ll be an uneventful night.”

“Right,” you let out a shaky breath “uneventful.”

“Look, I can’t imagine how jarring this is for you. I would have shut down by now, changed my name and gone into witness protection if I was thrown into this life the way you are. Without a choice. But, we can make the best of it and do what we can to protect Natasha.”

“It seems like she can handle herself,”

Kate chuckled “Oh, she can. But she doesn’t keep us around just for protection. It’s a big city, she wants people she trusts. She wants a family. And I know it might not seem like it, but her welcoming you into her inner circle… it’s a blessing. Just like we’d go to bat for her, she’d do the same for us.”

You swallowed the dryness in your throat as Natasha pulled her car to the curb in front of a russet brick building. Kate did the same expertly, shutting off the engine. She clapped you on the shoulder, giving you one more encouraging smile. “One night at a time, y/n. Follow my lead.”

Kate opened the door for Natasha, and you had to keep your jaw from dropping on the ground at the sight of her. Her long leg stretched onto the sidewalk, her hand squeezing Kate’s in return as she helped her from the vehicle.

She wore a maroon dress, one that had a slit down the leg that left little to the imagination. The color matched the shirt Kate had given you earlier, everything orchestrated to a tee. The woman looked at you approvingly before she took striding steps towards the front of the building. Out of habit, you held the door open for you, another look sparkling in her dark eyes.

It was a restaurant that you had never set foot in. There was a sour, yet pleasant, scent of vinegar and cabbage masked with that of freshly baked bread and beef. The walls were painted deep green, black and white photos of rolling hills placed above empty tables.

It was clear what table you were to be led to. There was one in the center of the restaurant that was set up with a bottle of wine, and water. A candle burned in the middle, shading the woman who occupied it with shadows that stretched her delicate features. She wasn’t alone.

The woman had cropped blonde hair at the shoulders. Her hazel eyes were calculating, clocking Kate and yourself immediately. Kate pulled Natasha’s chair back, allowing her to sit before she took a step back. You flanked her sides, arms behind your back and stare trained straight ahead like a sentinel.

“Two,” the woman smiled devilishly, hiding it behind a glass of deep red wine. “Are you compensating for something, or someone?”

The woman who stood much like you did behind her boss was not masking her contempt towards you. She was familiar in an irking way that you paid no mind to. It was in passing, you were sure, but it was one of those itches that would worsen until you could scratch it with your whole hand.

“Not at all,” Natasha replied cooly, “I believe there was something you wanted to discuss?”

“Mm, there was. You know the Maroni property on the west side.” She leaned forward, placing her glass down. Her lips were stained in a dark red that matched Natasha’s dress. “I want it.”

“That’s a horrible way to say please.”

“Natasha, we both know it doesn’t serve you in it’s current position.” She put emphasis on the name.

“I fail to see how that matters. Just giving you the property is out of the question. That’s not how this works, but I do admire your gumption.”

“Then how exactly does, this work?” She narrowed her eyes and leaned forward. Both you and Kate tensed. The vaguely-familiar woman behind Carol shifted on her feet in the slightest movement. “You kill one of my men and offer nothing in return?”

Natasha lifted her eyebrows “Exactly. This isn’t a bartering system, and it never has been. If I give you this building, it will change everything and I’m not much in the mood for a power struggle. What do you need it for?”

She seemed to falter “I don’t have to answer that. I’m offering to buy the property from you.”

“It’s not for sale.”

There was finality in her voice that rocked the room into silence. She hadn’t touched her wine, nor her water, and you figured she wouldn’t. Carol glowered at her, clearly not used to having her endeavors squashed with such ferocity.  

Natasha took a steadying breath. “Is that all? It’s late and I’m tired of your graveling.”

She let out a sigh and crossed her legs, drumming her ringed fingers on the cloth-laid table. The flames in the candle seemed to react to her impatience. Kate’s jaw clenched and unclenched as she leveled the woman behind Carol with a fierce stare.

“I suppose. I want you to remember this moment, Natasha. I offered you a deal.” She stood and dramatically sighed once more. “This could have been easy.”

Kate always kept her eyes on Carol, on the woman who followed behind her with her hands shoved into her pockets. The darkness of a previous scar littered her collarbone. She had the same stare that Bucky had, that same determined anger that came with years of meetings with higher stakes than this.

“Oh, and Nat.” She stopped just short of the door, turning to face the three of you.

Kate reached for her weapon, and out of a blind trust, so had you. It was warm from its housed place against your side. In that moment, you knew that anyone else in the room would be a quicker shot than you. Still, your heart was beating quickly in your throat.

“I don’t know where your Winter Soldier is, but this is a sorry excuse for a replacement.” She laughed, a mean sound. “A kid and a burn-out… you should’ve taken the deal.”

She left without another word, leaving you in a chilling silence. For a few long moments, Natasha stared at the table, at her reflection in the syrupy red wine. Her fingers brushed against the glass, frowning.

“I’m twenty-three.” Kate let out in a single breath, eyes drifting from you.

“Don’t look at me,” You whispered back, “I am a burn-out.”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toocreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos @cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145]

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. meet me there, I'll give you your roses .𖹭 ݁

﹙ characters. ﹚ ─── our selection of decadent desserts ” 

. . . darling specials !! 🍰 : we highly advise that you read our wiki to understand some character lore 

꒰  verse 781  ꒱

tiramisu . . . . . . alessio arias

the unkillable mercenary ˖ male ˖  a punk goth immortal mercenary with a bad boy esque. flirty, charming and a cocky, chaotic bastard with a love for music and dance. an antihero taking down an evil anti-inhuman organisation with his reckless nature. 

strawberry shortcake . . . . . . rishen herrera

the hybrid hero ˖ genderfluid amab ˖ a mantis-moth-spider hybrid and stem genius university student. a nerd with a heart of gold a determination to protect the city. switches between red smart and preppy aesthetic.

mango pudding . . . . . . zhào talisen

the poetic naga reaper ˖ male ˖ a dark academia poet. a grim reaper and naga who is quiet and aloof in nature. a hero in alias and an english literature student with a love for threatre. a beautifully macabre soul with a tongue of poetries.

black forest cake . . . . . . rishima singhania

the head scientist ˖ female ˖ a genius in all fields of science and a woman of stoicism. her cold heart gives way to surprisingly motherly tendancies. monochromatic 1960's aesthetic. the leader of a hero organisation across the multiverse and a renowned sceintist in her city.

 

꒰  verse 209  ꒱

croissant . . . . . . jìngyí herrera

the snake monster mad doctor ˖ male ˖ a yandere mad doctor who experiments on non-humans. all prim and proper, ever charming and serene on the outside - but is in fact a calculating and manipulative man. a poet tongue that knows how to deceive and twist the narrative.

red velvet cheesecake . . . . . . rishen herrera

the hybrid mad scientist ˖ genderfluid amab ˖ a yandere ceo of a science and research company. effortless and charismatic. a man of cunning intelligence. classy red aesthetic and an indulgent individual that masks evil ethics and sadistic non-human experiments with deceptive charm. 

lemon meringue cheesecake . . . . . . zhào hǎitāo

the demon reaper mercenary ˖ trans male ˖ a cold and calculated member of the resistance against the . a grim reaper with a demon symbiotically bonded to him. intelligent and ruthless. he feeds off vengeance and vows to bring justice to this foresaken world. dark male aesthetic. 

 

꒰  verse 1311  ꒱

​​​​​​egg tarts. . . . . . . jìngyí agresta

the naga mechanist.˖ male ˖ a cunning and ice cold mechanic. a naga and grim reaper who performs as an electric guitarist. deadly silent like a predator with a knack for torturing those that cross him in his workshop. if people see him as a villain for fighting back against discriminating humans then so be it. 

vada. . . . . . . . . . . rishen herrera

the femme fatale admiral ˖ genderfluid amab ˖ the leader of a special agent originisation. and assassin and spy. a man of great intelligence and seductive charm. effortless and femme fatale esque with a sharp tongue. a master strategist with a sense of justice. sassy, sarcastic and a natural leader. scary never wore a smile before him. 

churros. . . . . . . . . alessio agresta arias

the rockstar rebel leader ˖ male ˖ an arsonist and rebellion leader. a callous man with a sick sense of humour with the destructive power of kinetic energy manipulation. a punk rockstar when he is not causing explosions and stirring fear. flirty, humorous yet ready to do whatever it takes to avenge all fallen inhumans. 

ba bao fan . . . . . . . . . zhào hàoyú

the demon casino owner ˖ male ˖ a grim reaper possessed by a demon that feeds on lies. always ready for a good gamble at his casino. villainous yet charismatic. quite the possessive man who enjoys taking sadistic measures. dark male aesthetic with twisted grins and manipulation. 

 

꒰  verse 164  ꒱

key lime pie . . . . . emerald mania ( alessio agresta )

the master of magic ˖ male ˖ the first sorcerer who is considered a corrupt magic god. charming yet sadistic, he takes on the appearance of a demon and dwells in twisted forest. catching poor wanderers and experimenting on their souls. all magic originates from him and he intends to make people remember that. the gods fear his name and the very earth quakes in his presence.

rhubarb and strawberry crumble . . . copper resentment ( zhào talisen )

the snake deity of deceit ˖ male ˖ a siren-like monster that dwells in a large, cursed lake. considered a corrupt god with the power to destroy and reshape universes. a poettic tongue that spills lies and stirs chaos despite his divine and proper appearance. often said to lure beings into the water and challenge the gods. the gods fear his name and the very earth quakes in his presence.

 

꒰  verse 9948e  ꒱

milk tarts . . . . . . alessio agresta arias

the malefic sorcerer ˖ male ˖ a vintage goth sorcerer with a destructive amount of power. dry, sarcastic and chronically tired. a former rockstar who grieves the loss of his lover. now known as a cold-hearted spellcaster on a mission to bring the dead to life. 

lemon coconut tart . . . . . . zhào jìngyí

the wandering guarding reaper ˖ male ˖ joyously whimsy, a grim reaper who roams the afterlife after his early passing. always cracking a joke, poet in his own way and soft in nature - yet able to switch instantly on those that underestimate him. he ventures through the realms to aid in missions of the gods. soft aesthetic. 

tres leches cake . . . . . . rishen aryielus

the devil in angel's robes˖ genderfluid amab ˖ a charming and attractive angel of pure divinity. raised by the gods with seemingly a heart of gold. but a frightening presence and terror amount of sword skill despite his benevolent appearance. making most believe that he might indeed be a demon. 

passionfruit custard tart . . . . . . zhào hàoyŭ

the rebel reaper˖ male ˖ a dramatic and charismatic grim reaper with a knack for art. ever as flirty and adorned in a punk goth aesthetic with vintage twists. ever as flirtatious and sometimes chaotic. the heart of a rebel who fights to change the system of his world and the divine while he's at it. a vexer of the gods. 

almon jelly . . . . . . zhao yìzé

the mercenary reaper ˖ male ˖ an aloof grim reaper who delves into mercenary. taking out his anger in weaponry and kills. a caring soul who would rather remain cold as to not wear his heart on his sleeve more than he already has. cyberpunk aesthetic with a rebellious flair. 

mango pancakes . . . . . . zhào hǎitāo

the instigator reaper ˖ trans male ˖ an mortician who also delves into the black market as an informant. calm and collected yet ample times cunning. ready to strike down those that deserve. an instigator in nature. soft boy blue aesthetic.

red bean bun . . . . . . yuè mèng yáo

the grim reaper mother ˖ female ˖ a woman of great serenity and traditional in her culture's ways. known for her wisdom and peace - yet also the frightening presence that she brings in her wake. the leader of a grim reaper sanctuary and a mother protective of her kids.

bungeoppang . . . . . . . kyung seong-jin

the diurnal reaper detective ˖ male ˖ a supernatural detective with no filter. a grim reaper who is cold in nature. the heir of a renowned reaper family with a dark male aesthetic. often considered rude - yet dutiful. he has no restraint in his blunt tongue - yet has a warm heart for those he holds dear. 

revani . . . . . . . rasui

the fire elemental mercenary leader ˖ male ˖ a mercenary leader who is ever as regal and serene. cold on the exterior and strict in nature. a sometimes domineering fire elemental who tries to remain as callm and collected as possible. proper and formal in aesthetic. 

sakura pudding. . . . . . . shimada takara

the killer kitsune ˖ genderfluid ˖ a kitsune masking their nogitsune nature. chaotic and wild with a bite for thrill and danger. constantly seeking a way to keep themselves from boredom. he finds himself in rasui's mercenary syndicate to manage his violent tendencies. a mix of traditional and cyberpunk aesthetic. 

 

꒰  verse 9819  ꒱

​​​​​​​​​​​​caramel cheesecake . . . . . . . . alessio agresta arias 

the serial killer magician ˖ male ˖ the effortlessly charming leader of a crime specialist syndicate. a sort of robin hood and outlaw with a dark male aesthetic. serial killer of several politicians. cunning, witty and justice seeking. evading capture and playing games with the government council like the illuionist he is 

strawberry cupcake . . . . . . . . denara agyros

the darling sorceress heir ˖ female ˖ a lunar sorceress and heir to a renowned magic family. gothic in aesthetic and a lover of horror. yet soft and optimistic. a tender soul with a dark side. a kind nurse fighting off her jealous nature. burying into her love for thriller writing. 

red velvet cookies . . . . . . . . zhào xīyáng

the grim reaper mercenary boss ˖ male ˖ a collected and deadly quiet mercenary boss grim reaper. frightening with a taste for danger. a mix of oriental and refined white aesthetic. cold in nature and has ever the blunt tongue mixed with dry humour. he shakes hands with the devil to protect his city. 

 

꒰  verse 9948v  ꒱

kulfi. . . . . . . . rishen herrera

the mad cultist composer ˖ genderfluid amab ˖ a blank cultist with the ability to manipulate blood itself. a composer who writes with the very crimson he sheds. monotone with a dark sense of humour. cursed to glitch into phantom versions of his doppelgangers across the multiverse. a nercomancer with red esque.

mooncakes. . . . . . . . zhào hàoyŭ

the vengeful phantom ˖ male ˖ a phantom that haunts his world. sadistic and psychotic. careless with the souls he pulls from the afterlife to aid in his brutal massacres. possessive, obsessive and yandere in every way. with a morbid sense of humour and a smile etched on his face at all times. 

 

꒰  verse-less  ꒱

berry crumble . . . . . . . . jìngyí verseless

the demon alchemist ˖ male ˖ a demon with a frightful reputation. silent, sadistic and intelligent. best known for his alchemist shop in the dephs of hell. a dark oriental aesthetic with hints of modern. ever as graceful and beautifully macabre. loves to tempt his anger and remind others why he rose through hell's ranks.

kourabiethes . . . . . . . . valerius ariti

the hex demon lord ˖ male ˖ a serene demon lord who casts hexes through the multiverse. indifferent and ever ready to accept a deal so that he might play around with a mortal. regal and strewn in gold. divine to the point some consider him a god. refined and charming despite his brutal nature and vanity. 

cherry custard tart . . . . . . . . orion

the abyssal angel general ˖ male ˖ a silent and poetic angel who ranks as a general. known for his watchful eye over the abyss. cold in exterior and a strategic warrior. yet beyond caring with those he holds dear. a wise soul who can be a bit of a trickster at times.

[hathousehappenings]

89. Untwist of Fate.

I've been waiting an embarrassing long time to do this episode. ^^; I think I need to explain...

To ME, this episode is clearly an homage to The Wizard of Oz. There's a twister, a guy who needed to be convinced to help because he's cowardly, someone who is trying to get the heart of his character, a man behind a curtain... I'm gonna put all my thoughts below a cut at the bottom of this post because there's a lot!

When I had finished the sketch for this one I showed it to a couple people to see if it was too weird an idea for me to complete. They looked like I was insane that I would even ask them. ((It was then that I realized that the people I live with are no fun and just don't get me...))

I also decided to do a bonus picture of Queenie as Glinda just cause. I wanted to let her dress up too.

OKAY, and now here are the thoughts of a crazy person...

It's been obvious to me that from my first watch of this episode this all based off Wizard of Oz (the movie, not the book).

For instance, Hare is the Wizard because he’s trying to run the show, Alice is obviously Dorothy because she gets swept up in the twister, Dum is the Cowardly Lion because he was cowardly about helping test out cures for Alice, Rabbit is the Tinman because he’s trying to figure out his motivation (aka: get to the heart) of his character in the play and Queen is Glinda because she floats in at the very end and solves everything easily.

But, as I started thinking about it, more connections made themselves aware to me. And then I watched the episode!

First off, when we get to Wonderland there’s a little tune that plays as Hare’s back is to us in the director’s chair. That tune is very reminiscent of a tune in Oz called “Optimistic Voices”. It’s the song we hear as Dorothy and her friends come out of the poppy field and make way to the gates of the Emerald City. I actually caught that on my first watch through, so that wasn’t new to me. Rabbit is trying to figure out his motivation (aka: get to the heart of his character, Tinman) and Alice is just kinda there sitting around daydreaming.

Then Hare talks about how great their acting is and I start to realize something else: there are a ton of red props in this episode. I’ll brake it down as we go, but in this scene alone there’s Hare’s beret and bandana he used to mop his face, the ladder he climbs all over (I want to be that ladder) and the flowers that are thrown to them at the end of the song. This song is about Hare telling them what good actors they are and how they need to keep doing it, keep the act up. That sentiment feels very Wizard to me.

Next scene is “Throwing up Riddles”. More red props here: Hatter’s grill spatula and the writing on his apron and the plates are all a variant of red or its secondary color (red, pink or purple). They also talk about hogs/pigs a lot, which is what freaks Dorothy out in the beginning of the movie (she falls in the hog pen). Hatter is being silly and yet somehow smart with all these riddles, but he’s still acting like an idiot. Wisdom even though his head is empty? Sounds like Scarecrow! Then they get the news about the twister and run around like idiots.

Alice gets sucked up into the twister in the next scene. Obviously the twister is from Oz, but the first noises we hear while in the cyclone are chicken noises and that’s the same as in the film. You could argue that the Cheshire cat is supposed to be Toto in that he’s an animal who doesn’t contribute a whole hell of a lot to the story. I dunno. There are a ton of red items in the twister, though. A red velvet cake, red chicken, red candles, a red toad… Just because, I dunno.

Finding Alice after the twister only has the trash bucket and the chattering red teeth as the red props. All the men gather around to help the little girl character, which you could argue is like Oz. But that’s kinda low hanging fruit.

The “Interest of Science” scene is, well… interesting. We don’t have many red props here (a red velvet cake on the table and the satellite dish that Dee puts on Dum’s head) but we have some lyrics in the song that apply. Dee says “you might nearly be a hero, if you merely wouldn’t fear it” (!!!!) and the line about feeding him “to the lion”. Also, Hatter dropping random words of wisdom is odd. Like, he’s actually smart but just acts stupid. More connections to him and the Scarecrow.

Caterpillar’s story time does nothing to help my argument. There are no red props and his story is lame, kinda as per the usual. However, Caterpillar also doesn’t help them because he didn’t understand what they were asking for help about. So did it negate this scene? You decide.

This is the final Wonderland scene. We have three new red props: the red stripe on Hatter’s popcorn bucket (eeeeh?), the red curtain on the stage and Rabbit’s whole Bunny-o costume is red. Hatter is being brainless (as he does), Rabbit is still trying to find the heart of his character and Hare is still trying to keep the act up. He actually becomes the “man behind the curtain” after the how starts! And he keeps peeping out to watch everything.

Queen floats in like I don’t even know what. She’s been gone the bulk of the episode, other than to ask where Alice was during the twister. She also pulls the whole “you had the power all along" crap that Glinda pulls in the movie.

Rabbit is in red (ruby slippers) and Alice is in yellow (yellow brick road)!

The Red Queen and Alice skip through the forest in the very end, which I think is fitting because of the red and yellow symbolism.

After EVERYTHING I think the parallels are undeniable. They made some very conscious decisions about this episode to link it to Oz. I feel clever for having “figured it out”, but I might also just be letting my pride get to my head. I wouldn’t be surprised.

Anyway, any thoughts on this? Am I just late to the party and all this was supposed to be obvious?

[mystic-writings]

remember the nights | chapter thirteen — welcome distractions

WORD COUNT — 1,435

WARNINGS — none

NOTES — i honestly can't believe that i didn't manage to get this chapter up on time, but i swear the next one will be on schedule !! for now enjoy this lovely fluffy filler

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

It’s been three weeks since you last saw Newt; since Christmas. New Years came and went, and school started back up, and nothing changed. Things were the same as they were two months ago, and that small flicker of hope died out halfway into the first week of school. 

New Years was fun, though. At midnight, when your father kissed Maggie and Thomas kissed Teresa, you gave Chuck an embarrassing kiss to the cheek, laughing as his already rosy cheeks darkened as he smiled and pushed you away. 

With the end of January approaching, you had new things to worry about. Finals, a new semester, and your dad’s wedding. You weren’t sure what you were more nervous about, the wedding, or having to take Algebra for the next five months. 

Things at home were getting better, and you were learning to live with the rift between you and Thomas — which, admittedly, got a bit smaller during Christmas and New Years. They were picking up, as well, considering the wedding was only a few weeks away. Your parents, ever the romantics, were getting married on Valentines Day, which meant that whatever final planning and preparation needed to be done as quickly as possible. 

Which, of course, led you to here, sitting in the car with Maggie on a disturbingly cold Saturday morning to help her with the rest of the errands she needed to do before the wedding. 

“Okay, I have the bridesmaid’s dresses in my trunk, we have to go drop them off, bring some of the decorations from the backseat to the hall, get some people to help us set up a few of the tables in the hall, and check on the cake at Jorge’s.” Maggie listed off the to-do list for the day as she drove onto the main road. “Your father’s taking care of all of the deliveries from the city, including his brother, who insisted on taking an Uber instead of just letting your dad go get him from the airport.” 

You laughed and nodded, “Uncle Mark hates when dad offers to do stuff for him. Some sort of older brother complex, I’m sure.” 

The car fell silent as you looked out the window. You wished the weather would cooperate with the season and make for a wonderful, winter landscape, but instead all you were left to look at was slush covered roads, and dirty snow piles on the sides of the roads from the plows that ran through yesterday, just before it rained the entire night. 

Dropping off the dresses was a simple enough task, and with a small town and only a few main roads, you were able to get it all done in just about an hour. The bridesmaids picked out their own style dresses, but all of them matched in color; a lovely sage green, which all of the groomsmen would have as their tie color. You were able to put faces to names this way, and being in a bridal party of older women was actually pretty fun. All of the dresses had sticky notes on them to determine what dress belonged to who, and by the end of that errand, the only one left was yours. Maggie had, a long while ago, decided that you were going to be her Maid of Honor, and got you a darker, emerald green dress to make sure that you stood out. 

You remembered when she told you her decision, and how she explained that it was because she saw you as her daughter from the moment you’d first met. She also explained that you wouldn’t be the only young person in the bridal party, as both Chuck and Thomas were serving as your dad’s best man, and would both walk down the aisle with you, as well as wear ties that matched your dress color. 

The decorations were next on the list, and you finally got to see the inside of the Hall, a great tall building on the other side of town, old brickwork and some pillars and balconies dotting the outside. There were some stairs leading up to a pillared front porch, all concrete and really old. It looked like an old-American style house, one that someone important would’ve lived in during the 1800s. 

Maggie’s backseat had been occupied by the boxes of decorations for weeks now, and she was finally able to give them over to the people who worked at the Hall, who would set everything up a day or two beforehand to take some trouble off of Maggie and your dad’s backs. 

The inside was fairly nice. It’d been gutted and remodeled long ago, and probably never updated since. White walls, a staircase leading up to who knows what, an industrial kitchen, built in bar, and public washrooms. The windows made sure that the sunlight lit up the room perfectly, but it looked odd to see it so empty. 

You could see down the hall where the bathroom was that there was a different door, probably one that led to the side of the house, and another one by the stairs that likely led into the backyard. Tables and chairs littered the outside of a double doorway on the very right side of the hall, so you assumed that’s where most of the storage was kept. 

The few people inside the hall helped bring all the boxes in and put them by the stairs, while another few went to work on packing away the tables and chairs into the storage room. Every sound echoed in the hall, the slight scrape of metal against the polished wood floor, the exertion of bringing in all those boxes, everything. 

From there, you went to Jorge’s cafe to check up on the cake and pastries, only to find him and Brenda taste testing the macarons and frosted cookies. They spent almost an hour talking about what was going to be served at the wedding, along with the final touches of the cake and frosting. 

It was heading into the late afternoon when you got home, and you found your father in the living room, hanging up the phone just as you stepped inside. “Everything go okay?”

“Yep,” Maggie nodded. “Everyone got their dresses, Malcolm and Jack came by the hall to help bring in the decorations, and Jorge is working very hard on those pastries.”

You held up your garment bag as proof, and your dad nodded at you with a smile. 

“Well, everything on my end went well. Everything should get here on time.” He walked up to Maggie, pressing a kiss to her cheek before side-hugging you. “I called and confirmed everything with the florists, the chair guy, the table guy, the dress lady, the suit tailor, and arranged an Uber for my brother. Tables and chairs are getting here the morning before, dress and suits that afternoon, and the flowers the morning of, which my brother said he would take care of.” 

Maggie smiled bright, pressing a kiss to your dad’s cheek and patting his arm. She grabbed your dress and took it upstairs, leaving you and your dad alone in the foyer. 

“Are you excited, dad?”

“You have no idea, kiddo.” He sighed, ruffling your hair. “I haven’t been this excited since you were born. But I should be asking how you’re feeling about all this. I haven’t exactly had the chance to talk to you—” 

“Dad, I’m fine. I’m 110% okay with this, you have nothing to worry about.” You assured him. “As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. She’s a great woman. You chose good.”

“I know.” He said. “Sometimes, though, I feel a bit… weird, but I don’t know why. Your mom’s been gone how long, now? I’m happy, but I still miss her.” 

“So do I, dad.” You told him. “I miss her a lot. But marrying Maggie doesn’t change that mom was a big part of your life, you know. You have enough room in your heart to love them both.” 

Your dad smiled, eyes wet with tears, before pulling you into a hug, kissing the crown of your head. “I love you so much, kiddo.” 

“I know, dad.” 

He let you go and made his way toward his office, and you watched him go. You couldn’t stop the overwhelming feeling of pride for your dad filling your chest, mixing with the love that was already there. No matter what your relationship with Thomas was by the time your parents got married, you were determined to not let it ruin anything. 

Not if you could help it.

series taglist: @heliads @ghostofscarley @badbatch-simp24 @virginia-peters @third-broparcelicito @lamolaine @yes-fangirl-things (open!)

[naviculariis]

"We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem... but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think." -Maester Luwin, A Song of Ice and Fire

Crocodile, known as تمساح [ Timsah ], is the God of the Desert. He is also the god of sandstorms, disorder, warfare, eclipses, and earthquakes. Offerings must be presented upon a sand-laden area, and are preferably: clove, red meat ( uncooked ), bread, tomatoes, or black coffee / coffee beans. In terms of appearance, he appears as a towering figure, with a scar akin to crocodile teeth across the center of his face, over the bridge of his nose. Legend has it that it was given to him in a fight against an Old God, in which he lost his left hand. It is replaced by a solid gold hook, which is used to pierce the souls of lost travelers. If they survive- he grants them permission to traverse the desert, oftentimes pointing them in the right direction. If they fail, he keeps them, adding to the ever growing army of lost souls.

*It should be noted that the tales speak of a Demigoddess, Princess Vivi Nefertari, being one of the few to survive not only having her soul pierced, but also returning to the Mortal World.

Colors associated with him: Gold, Emerald, Umber, Ruby Crystals / Rocks / Gemstones: Gold, Emerald, Ruby, Opal, Hematite, Diamond

Robin, known as ज्ञान [ Gyaan ], is the Goddess of Knowledge, Wisdom, Learning, and Arts ( often music or dance ), as well as being the balance for Chaos. Sometimes prayed to has a Goddess of War, Robin has also been known as ज्ञान जंगी [ Gyaan Jangee ]. Offerings for her are: Lotus flowers, casablanca, sandwiches, semisweet cakes, coffee beans / black coffee. Her animal equivalent is a crane. With regards to her physical appearance, she appears as a tall woman with shoulder length straight black hair, and blunt bangs that sit across her forehead. She bears four arms ( or sometimes six, depending on the depiction ), and is often draped in rich purple silks and fabrics. She bears a scar upon her sternum, given to her by Timsah during a fight- in which she left his side, betraying him. There is whisper that Timsah is the chaos to which Gyaan balances with order.

Colors associated with her: Royal purple, Turquoise, Gold, Black Crystals / Rocks / Gemstones: Amethyst, Obsidian, Selenite, Turquoise, Tourmaline

Dracule, known by the epithet of γεράκι [ Geráki, Hawkeye ], is the God of Bloodshed and Quick Deaths. Oftentimes prayed to by soldiers entering battle, he has also been given the title of Άρεια [ Warlike ]. Offerings given to him are: Red wine [ wet or dry ], red meat, freshly spilled blood from the owner of said blood, peppercorn, butternut squash, apple, and pomegranate. Gold can also be offered, but is not seen as a main offering. His appearance is of a man of relatively normal stature, with jet black hair upon his head, and a black beard. His eyes are golden and ringed, often smeared with a dark sort of shadow. His clothing changes depending on where he is summoned for War; a knight's coat of armor in black, draping robes of red and onyx, etc. However, he is most often depicted as holding a large broadsword named Yoru, and wearing a black coat with no shirt beneath, paired with equally black trousers. The lack of armor shows the inability to be killed, for he bears no scars upon his form.

Colors associated with him: Maroon, Onyx, Sage green, Silver Crystals / Rocks / Gemstones: Onyx, Garnet, Agate, Bloodstone

[felassan]

Dragon Age: The Official Cookbook: Tastes of Thedas lore compilation / notes / thoughts [Part 1 of 2]

(Link to Part 2, in text form (pls copy-paste) as Tumblr won't let me add it as a normal link: https://felassan.tumblr.com/post/732826339350102016/dragon-age-the-official-cookbook-tastes-of)

Reference, info & general observations/ramble post ◕‿◕ (Post contents under a cut, in case anyone would rather not read cookbook spoilers. also due to post length)

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

If I have forgotten, misread or misunderstood something, please let me know.

This post is part 1 of 2, as it was getting rly long.

Dishes by type

Starters & Refreshments: Eggs à la Val Foret, Nevarran Blood Orange Salad, Fried Young Giant Spiders, Stuffed Deep Mushrooms, Rivaini Couscous Salad, Crab Cakes from Kirkwall, Fluffy Mackerel Pudding, Snail & Watercress Salad, Cave Beetles

For the Road: Spiced Jerky, Grey Warden Pastry Pockets, Pickled Eggs, Unidentified Meat, Seheron Fish Pockets, Fereldan Hearty Scones, Crow Feed, Black Lichen Bread, Hearth Cakes, Peasant Bread

Soups & Stews: Merrill's Blood Soup, Fereldan Potato and Leek Soup, The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew, Fish Chowder, Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup, Lentil Soup, Nettle Soup, King Alistair's Lamb and Pea Stew

Main Courses: Stuffed Cabbage, Antivan Gnocchi, Antivan Paella, Grilled Poussin, Gurgut Roast with Lowlander Spices and Mushroom Sauce, Nug Pancakes, Fish in Salt Crust, Roasted Wyvern, Nug Bacon and Egg Pie, Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie, Cacio e Pepe, Turnip and Mutton Pie, Smoked Ham from the Anderfels, Roasted Turkey with Sides

Sides: Sera's Yummy Corn, Stuffed Vine Leaves, Honey Carrots, Nevarran Flat Bread and Yogurt Dip

Sweet Delights: Blancmange, Poison Stings, Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler, Dwarven Plum Jam, Sour Cherries in Cream, Treviso Energy Balls, Rice Pudding, Goat Custard

Baked Goods: Antivan Apple Grenade, Found Cake, Varric's Favorite Cinnamon Rolls, Croissants, Cherry Cupcakes, Chocolate Cake, Varric's Favorite Pastries, Sugar Cake, Lamprey Cake, Tevinter Pumpkin Bread

Drinks & Potions: Lichen Ale, The Hissing Drake, Hot Chocolate, Antivan Sip-Sip, Dragon Piss, Rivaini Tea Blend, The Golden Nug, The Emerald Valley, Chasind Sack Mead

Notes: These dish 'categories' are from the book contents pages, which can be viewed here.

Dishes by place / culture of origin (DA Cookbook-specific list)

Ferelden: Pickled Eggs, Fereldan Hearty Scones, Fereldan Potato and Leek Soup, Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup, King Alistair's Lamb and Pea Stew, Nug Bacon and Egg Pie, Turnip and Mutton Pie, Chocolate Cake

Kirkwall: Crab Cakes from Kirkwall, The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew, Roasted Turkey with Sides

Orlais: Eggs à la Val Foret, Grey Warden Pastry Pockets, Honey Carrots, Blancmange, Sour Cherries in Cream, Croissants

Tevinter: Unidentified Meat, Stuffed Vine Leaves, Cherry Cupcakes, Tevinter Pumpkin Bread

Antiva: Crow Feed, Fish Chowder, Antivan Gnocchi, Antivan Paella, Cacio e Pepe, Treviso Energy Balls, Antivan Apple Grenade, Antivan Sip-Sip

Nevarra: Nevarran Blood Orange Salad, Nevarran Flat Bread and Yogurt Dip

Rivain: Rivaini Couscous Salad, Goat Custard, Rivaini Tea Blend

Seheron: Seheron Fish Pockets

Starkhaven: Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie, Roasted Turkey with Sides

Free Marches: Roasted Turkey with Sides

Anderfels: Smoked Ham from the Anderfels

Avvar: Snail & Watercress Salad, Stuffed Cabbage, Gurgut Roast with Lowlander Spices and Mushroom Sauce, Fish in Salt Crust, Roasted Wyvern

Chasind: Grilled Poussin, Chasind Sack Mead

Dalish: Spiced Jerky, Hearth Cakes, Peasant Bread, Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler

City Elf: Peasant Bread, Lentil Soup

Orzammar / dwarven: Fried Young Giant Spiders, Stuffed Deep Mushrooms, Cave Beetles, Nug Pancakes, Dwarven Plum Jam, Lichen Ale, Black Lichen Bread

Unspecified (DA Cookbook-specific list): Fluffy Mackerel Pudding, Merrill's Blood Soup, Nettle Soup, Sera's Yummy Corn, Poison Stings, Rice Pudding, Found Cake, Varric's Favorite Cinnamon Rolls, Varric's Favorite Pastries, Sugar Cake, Lamprey Cake, The Hissing Drake, Hot Chocolate, Dragon Piss, The Golden Nug, The Emerald Valley

Notes: Fluffy Mackerel Pudding seems to be Fereldan as it's found in DA:O in this Codex entry at the Arl of Redcliffe's Estate in Denerim. Snail & Watercress Salad isn't traditional Avvar cuisine; though snails are standard Avvar fare, this salad which has them in conjunction with other ingredients is Devon's take on snails that they made for their Avvar hosts. The given Spiced Jerky recipe is Dalish, but the book notes that preserved foods like it play an important role in many different Thedosian cultures. Grey Warden Pastry Pockets are a variation on a tough Grey Warden pastry which incorporates the far more delicate Orlesian puff pastry, that was championed by newer Warden recruits from Orlais. Unidentified Meat is usually served with Nevarran Flat Bread. Black Lichen Bread doesn't explicitly say but is clearly dwarven, as it references "underground" versus the "surface" and the dwarf Garin in Orzammar mentions it in DA:O. Peasant Bread is both Dalish and City Elf. Merrill's Blood Soup could be Dalish in origin as it's a recipe of Merrill's. Devon's Lentil Soup recipe has classic Tevinter flavors in it. Roasted Turkey with Sides is found throughout the Free Marches. Sera's Yummy Corn could be Fereldan in origin as it's a recipe of Sera's. Poison Stings is likely Tevinter as Dorian is fond of it. Rice Pudding could be Antivan or Rivaini as in Thedas you don't see much rice outside of Antiva or Rivain, or perhaps Tevinter or Qunari as it was a dish made by Krem, Iron Bull and the Chargers. Found Cake could be Fereldan as it's based on Dog's Found Cake in DA:O. Sugar Cake was purchased from a surface dwarf merchant and is based on Sugar Cake from DA:O (Feraldan dish? Dwarven?). Lamprey Cake was Devon's pickled lamprey-inspired cake, with pickled lamprey itself being a "singular" (implied: odd) favorite of an Orlesian noble. The Hissing Drake, The Golden Nug and The Emerald Valley are drinks served at the Gilded Horn in Orlais. The Emerald Valley's place of origin isn't given in the book, but we know from this Codex that it includes a spirit that is Orlesian, having been made in Lydes. Going by Iron Bull's dialogue with Varric, hot chocolate/cocoa is not from the south and is rare there. Dragon Piss could be Fereldan as it's based on Dragon Piss which is found in Ferelden.

Alphabetical ingredients / 'foodstuffs and drinks which exist in Thedas' list (DA Cookbook-specific list)

Notes: These ingredients are derived from the dish names and the lore blurbs (which appear to be in-world), not the recipes and associated ingredients lists themselves (which appear to be our world/irl-based). Also, this is a sort of scrappy list with mixed singular/plurals, some repeating stuff (e.g. I know pork, bacon, pig and ham is all "pig"), some non-specific stuff e.g. "herbs", and some stuff that is more 'a combo food' than 'a single ingredient' e.g. "dough", but just go with it ok hh, it's just meant to be a quick 'n' dirty reference list as a resource not a perfect culinary thing:

“Bitter greens”, Ale, Almonds, Antivan pasta, Antivan wine, Apples, Apple blossoms, Apricots, Assorted “forest fruits”, Ayesleigh gulabi goat (a breed of goat from which some goat’s milk is derived), Bacon, Bark, Bark bread, Barley, Beetroot, Biscuits, Black cherries, Black lichen, Blended teas, Blood oranges, Brandy, Bread, Buns, Butter (halla and other types), Cabbage, Carrot, Cave beetles, Celery, Chasind Wildwine, Cheese, Cheese sauce, Cherries, Chicken, Chickpeas, Chocolate, Chocolate cream cake, Cinnamon, Cocoa, Cocoa powder, Corn (yellow and non-yellow varieties), Couscous, Cows, Crab, Cranberry, Cream, Croutons, Currants, Custard (many variations), Cuttlefish, Dark bread, Deep mushrooms (several varieties), Dough, Dracolisk? (in one ‘sus meat’ recipe Devon wondered if it could be this), Dried fruit, Dry cheese, Eggs, Egg-white foam (for drinks, due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Fereldan ale, Fereldan barley, Figs, Fish, Flat bread, Flour, Flowers (over 70 different types of herbs and flowers used for food & drink exist), Giant spiders, Giant? (in one ‘sus meat’ recipe Devon wondered if it could be this), Gnocchi, Goat’s milk, Goats, Grains, Grapes, Grease, Gurguts, Halla butter, Ham, Harts, Herbs (over 70 different herbs and flowers used for food & drink exist), Hirol’s Lava Burst (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Honey, Hot peppers, Jams & preserves, Jasmine flowers, Jerky, Lamb, Lamprey, Leeks, Lemon, Lemon juice, Lemon verbena, Lentils, Lichen (underground and surface varieties), Lichen ale, Licorice root, Llomerryn red, Llomerryn rum (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Lurkers, Mackerel, Mango, Marshmallow (presumably meaning both the marshmallow plant and marshmallows, the confectionary that was originally made from the marshmallow plant. The form given in the cookbook is Orlesian guimauves, which accompany Iron Bull’s hot chocolate. “Guimauve” is French for marshmallow), Mead, Milk, Mincemeat, Mint, Mushroom, Mussels, Mutton, Nettle, Noodles, Nug, Nug bacon, Nuggets (nug-gets), Nutmeg (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Nuts, Oats, Oil, Olives, Onion, Orange, Orange peel, Oregano, Pasta, Pastry, Peas, Peanut butter, Peanuts, Pepper (as in black pepper etc), Peppermint, Pickled things, Pickled vegetables, Pie, Pig, Plums, Pomegranate, Pork, Potatoes, Poussin, Prawns, Puff pastry, Pumpkin, Quillback (in one ‘sus meat’ recipe Devon wondered if it could be this, and in DA:I some NPCs mention it), Rabbit, Raisins, Rams, Raspberries, Red bell peppers, Red grapes, Rhubarb, Rice, Rolls, Royal elfroot (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Rum (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), Saffron, Salt, Semolina flour, Sheep, Shrimp, Smoked meats, Snails, Sour ale, Sour cherries, Spices, Spinach, Spirits (as in alcohol), Strawberries, Sugar, Tea, Toasted bread, Tomatoes, Truffles, Turkey, Turnip, Tzatziki sauce, Vine leaves, Waffles, Water, Watercress, West Hill brandy, Wheat, Whipped cream, Whiskey (due to the The Gilded Horn’s Drink List codex), White chocolate, White frosting, White Seleny wine, White wine, Wildflowers, Wine, Wraps (soft), Wyverns, Yogurt

'See also' / 'did you know':

Eggs à la Val Foret

Fried Young Giant Spiders: previously made an appearance in the DA tabletop. The player party arrives at Chanra Thaig and sees "Bonfires built inside steel drums provide warm and heat for the dwarves huddled around them, cooking deepstalkers, what looks like the legs of giant spiders, and small rodent-like animals on spits". The dwarves have "fuel, water, and domesticated spiders and nugs in deeper chambers for food".

Fluffy Mackerel Pudding

Snail and Watercress Salad

Cave beetle previously made an appearance in the DA tabletop. They're described as "scavengers and carrion eaters", "black" and "hard-shelled". They're also known as "rock beetles" and are "little more than a nuisance on its own. Dwarves are even known to roast and eat them out of the shells".

Pickled Eggs (from "The Whole Nug" in World of Thedas)

Seheron Fish Pockets: Iron Bull has dialogue where he says "I remember one guy, he made these things - fish wrapped in thin bread". He was talking of a street food vendor in Seheron who had been forced by Tevinter spies to poison his food. Fittingly, in the cookbook Devon narrates that they learned this recipe from a Charger.

Black Lichen Bread: Garin from DA:O had an incident a few years back where he cut himself and some raw lyrium dust got into his blood. Since then it's been hard for him to concentrate and he's forgetful. He mentions bread that's made by using lichen (I think he mentioned that his lunch was a slice of lichen bread). interestingly, like lyrium, the cookbook lore blurb for Black Lichen Bread contains reference to how black lichen is toxic.

Hearth Cakes (from "The Whole Nug" in World of Thedas)

Peasant Bread: appears in The Masked Empire. in the Dalish camp, Dalish cooks prepared a midday meal, which was served along with peasant bread. "It was almost equal parts wheat, salt, and grease, and in lean winters, it was sometimes the only thing that could put meat on a peasant's bones." Michel watches an old elven woman drizzle honey across a piece and remembers his City Elven mother putting a bit of sugar she had stolen from the tavern she worked in on his piece of bread. The cookbook lore blurb for Peasant Bread says it is eaten by Dalish elves and City elves alike in Orlais, with the recipe being "very straightforward, calling for wheat, salt, and grease in nearly equal parts". Also, in The Last Court, Seraultine (Orlesian) peasants are described as eating bread at mealtimes

The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew: in a DAII loading screen, it says that the tavern's feature dish is a stew made from a different mystery meat every morning

Fish Chowder: in DA:O Zevran says "Can you smell that? Like rotting flesh. Just like back in Antiva City. Now if only you could find me a prostitute or two, a bowl of fish chowder and a corrupt politician, I'd really feel like I was home!"

Sweet and Sour Cabbage Soup (the cookbook lore blurb mentions the Orlesian troupe of actors from the show Wilkshire Downs. in this codex they are mentioned along with "cabbage stew")

King Alistair's Lamb and Pea Stew: Alistair and Leliana have this dialogue in DA:O about this dish (Ctrl-F "pea stew").

Antivan Gnocchi: In Tevinter Nights (Eight Little Talons), the Crow leaders eat gnocchi with dinner

Gurgut Roast with Lowlander Spices and Mushroom Sauce

Nug Pancakes, two

Fish in Salt Crust

Roasted Wyvern. Also Isabela has dialogue in Mark of the Assassin where she says "I hope I'm not expected to eat roast wyvern after this." The lore blurb in the cookbook for this dish also references this Codex

Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie (from "The Whole Nug" in World of Thedas)

Cacio e Pepe: First mentioned in Tevinter Nights (The Wigmaker Job). Illario complains "This isn't Cacio e Pepe" while making a show of tapping his dagger against a plate of leftovers. Lucanis replies "You ordered an Antivan dish in Tevinter. What did you expect?", to which Illario quips "Something edible".

Turnip and Mutton Pie

Smoked Ham from the Anderfels: a servant in Mark of the Assassin offers Hawke and Tallis "smoked ham from the Anderfels. They say it tastes of despair". Tallis replies "Wait, does it really? How can ham taste of despair? Why would anyone eat it if it did?". The servant explains "That's what the importer said. They all talk like that" apparently. This dish is also mentioned in DA:I. After WEWH Dorian says "I hope you tried the ham they were serving, by the way. Tastes of despair. Fascinating". The cookbook lore blurb asserts that contrary to rumors and what the importers say, this ham does not, in fact, taste of despair. Also, see The Jade Ham (tumblr won't let me add it as a proper link: https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/The_Jade_Ham), as the cookbook lore blurb references this item and its description

Roasted Turkey with Sides: Roast turkey previously made an appearance in the DA tabletop. Lady Sennova hosts a gala/party in Orlais, which players infiltrate/attend and at which food and drink is served. "The Game is about appearances as much as it is about outright treachery, so a dead rat discovered in the roast turkey could serve as a crueler twist of the knife than an actual twisting of the knife". The cookbook lore blurb references the comic Knight Errant, which involves Sebastian's birthday dinner party

Sera's Yummy Corn (from "The Whole Nug" in World of Thedas)

Dwarven Plum Jam: in DA:O a Diamond Quarter noble dwarf says something like "I will die without my favorite plum jam from the surface!" The cookbook lore blurb references the fact that in Orzammar, jam from the surface, especially jams made from plums, are in especially high demand and cost exorbitant prices

Rice Pudding: in DA:I Krem mentions a time when he, Iron Bull and the Chargers defended a village from fifty bandits. Afterwards the villagers paid them for their services in bags of rice. He says that they made rice pudding after that. The cookbook lore blurb references this story of Krem's

(new text block because the previous text block hit a character limit hh)

Antivan Apple Grenade: the cookbook lore blurb references Antivan Fire Grenades (two), which spread sticky fire. maybe it's my brain conjuring up sticky toffee/toffee apples, but I wanna say that this dish would not only be hot but also sticky :)

Found Cake

Varric's Favorite Cinnamon Rolls: in DAII Sandal says that Orana smells of cinnamon rolls, which was interesting to me as DAII is the game where Varric is introduced and his first (and greatest) batch of cinnamon roll friends, the Kirkwall Crew, are featured in

Croissants: Calix and Vaea eat something which arguably look like croissants in the comic Dragon Age: Deception, in an inn in Tevinter.

Cherry Cupcakes: the cookbook lore blurb says these are served by servants on stilts at the Tevinter theature. in the comic Dragon Age: Magekiller, Marius is depicted serving an array of treats and snacks to a Tevinter elite at the Tevinter theatre while on stilts. some of the cupcakes on his tray bear somewhat of a resemblance to the cupcakes in this recipe.

Sugar Cake

Pickled Lamprey: the cookbook lore blurb is referencing the book Last Flight, where Norbert de la Haine and his unfortunate fondness for pickled lampreys is mentioned.

Lichen Ale

The Hissing Drake. the cookbook lore blurb mentions the Gilded Horn

Hot Chocolate: Iron Bull discusses his penchant for this drink with Varric. "How do you guys live without this stuff?" he says. Varric replies "I don't see what the deal is, honestly, but different tastes..." / "Now I just need some hot milk and some of those Orlesian guimauves to put in it" / "Hey, what you do with this 'cocoa' is up to you. I don't need to hear about it"

Antivan Sip-Sip

Dragon Piss, two

Rivaini Tea Blend: In Masked Empire Celene drinks a Rivaini blend of tea containing cinnamon, ginger and cloves, sweetened with honey. the cookbook lore blurb references Celene drinking Rivaini Tea Blend throughout the day to combat headaches, but this tea blend consists of peppermint, lemon verbena, oregano and licorice root. Rivaini tea also crops up here.

The Golden Nug, two

The Emerald Valley

Chasind Sack Mead

Characters mentioned or alluded to in the cookbook

Devon (new character, writer and narrator of the book), Merrill, Alistair, Sera, Varric, Solas, Cassandra, Fenris, Cullen, Sten, Iron Bull, Bull's Chargers, Krem, Nan (possibly, if she is Devon's mother), Norah (possibly, as the waitress at The Hanged Man), Zevran, Morrigan, the Hero of Ferelden, the Inquisitor, Josephine, Paragon Varen, Leliana, Schmooples, the Hero of Ferelden's mabari, Sebastian, Cole, Vivienne, Dorian, Anders, Loghain, Bethany, Hawke, the Couslands, Bodahn Feddic (possibly, as the Sugar Cake item in DA:O is sold by him and Devon narrates that they purchased one from a surface dwarf merchant who said that the Hero of Ferelden purchased some for their companions), Norbert de la Haine, Isabela, Celene, Briala, Gaspard

"Cookbook canon" (notes about the particular worldstate/universe that Devon wrote the cookbook in)

The cookbook was written at some point after the appointment of Divine Victoria, placing it at at least one month after the DA:I base game concludes (at least one month after the defeat of Corypheus). The narrator, Devon, has met and spoken to at least some of the companions & related prominent NPCs, including Varric and Krem. Devon visited Haven.

The HoF was a Cousland. The HoF caught Schmooples for Leliana. Loghain survived DA:O and DA:I, as he's referred to in the present-tense at the time the cookbook is written. Alistair is King of Ferelden. The HoF may have been a lady who romanced Alistair (if you argue that the inclusion of Alistair's love letter to the Warden & the necklace from this merch item as a prop in the photo for Rivaini Couscous Salad as indicator. interesting that the photo where this item is prominently displayed is for the Couscous of all things. back in the day I remember folks calling Cousland "Couscous" hhh).

Hawke was a warrior or rogue and Carver died in the prologue. Hawke was probably Diplomatic. Hawke did not romance Sebastian (in the cookbook he is Prince, and Sebastian reclaims his title as Prince by DA:I unless romanced, in which case he's the Chantry advisor in Starkhaven).

The "worst of [Cullen's] lyrium withdrawals" are mentioned so it could be that the Inquisitor advised Cullen to stop taking lyrium. Cassandra Pentaghast is the Divine. Celene is the Empress of Orlais - possibly ruling "alone" or possibly in the Celene-Gaspard-Briala "work together option", going by "Given how messy Orlesian politics are wont to be, with chevalier cousins vying for the throne and elven handmaids turned both spymaster and lover".

Also, this might be just me and my assumptions or reading of it, but of the companion characters referenced in the book (see section above, Characters mentioned or alluded to in the cookbook), such as Cole, Sera, Merrill, Fenris etc, I feel like it's safe to assume that in this worldstate they were all recruited by the relevant PCs are alive and well (including the Chargers).

Merch items & similar that appear as props or edits in photos

Alistair romance bundle (necklace and letter in Rivaini Couscous Salad. the necklace appears again in Goat Custard. the box can be seen in The Golden Nug)

Grey Warden pendant that shows the griffon heraldry (not sure if this is from the Gear Store or somewhere like Etsy. Grey Warden Pastry Pockets). this reappears in Sugar Cake

Solas Jawbone Necklace (Pickled Eggs. hhhh. unlike in Eggs à la Val Foret the blurb here doesn't mention Solas, but he's repped here anyway by the necklace hanging in the background hh)

Cullen's Lucky Coin (The Hanged Man's Mystery Meat Stew, Stuffed Vine Leaves, Antivan Sip-Sip)

In Nug Pancakes this red Inquisition banner with the handprint is in the background (seems to be from game files/in-game props). the red Inquisition banner appears again in Chasind Sack Mead

In Nug Bacon and Egg Pie, there is a nug in the background, presumably looking on in horror as their spouse has been transformed into a pie

In Turnip and Mutton Pie is a necklace that looks like the one Varric wears

Templar Banner (Roasted Turkey with Sides)

Inquisitor's iconic helmet replica (Roasted Turkey with Sides. hhh, this reminds me of the ones that are props in the queue area for the Dragon Age-not Dragon Age-ride)

In the background of Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler a nug is peeking out

Antivan Apple Grenade contains a map of Westeros hhh. You can see the Three Sisters, the Neck and the Bite

A physical version of this Thedas map appears at various points e.g. Chasind Sack Mead

DA:I advisors coin set (Tevinter Pumpkin Bread) - for some reason Tumblr won't allow me to add the link to this one as an actual link, but you can find it here: gear.bioware.com/en-eu/products/dragon-age-three-advisors-coin-set

A green orb that I would guess is meant to be reminiscent of the ones Solas has you use during Measuring the Veil (Tevinter Pumpkin Bread)

Inquisition symbol pendant (not sure if this is from the Gear Store or somewhere like Etsy)

(You can get 20% off in the BioWare Gear Store until November 6th using my latest discount code BWCUISINE. After that date check back here for a new code. alternatively, you can use my >tracking link<.)

Some random thoughts

Shoutout to the photo for Starkhaven Fish and Egg Pie. It looks a lot like the illustration in World of Thedas of this dish! you can see that they really took it into consideration when creating this dish/image.

I feel like you can also sense the inspiration in general vibe/feel in Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler from Dalish Deep Forest Comfort in WoT.

The black and gold theme colors of the cover remind me of when DA:D branding was black and gold.

Recipe pages I have posted that you can view in full: Spiced Jerky, Dalish Forest Fruit Cobbler, Hearth Cakes, Merrill's Blood Soup, Lentil Soup, Peasant Bread, Dragon Piss

Recipe and other pages that were already available to view in full from the official preview pages: intro page, intro page 2, intro page 3, Contents page 1, Contents page 2, intro page 4, Devon's letter, intro page 5, Starters & Refreshments section intro page, Eggs à la Val Foret, Fried Young Giant Spiders, Fereldan Hearty Scones, Nug Pancakes, Roasted Turkey with Sides, Varric's Favorite Cinnamon Rolls, Nevarran Blood Orange Salad recipe (pic), Stuffed Deep Mushrooms recipe (pic), Rivaini Couscous Salad recipe (pic), Crab Cakes from Kirkwall recipe (pic), Fluffy Mackerel Pudding recipe (pic), Snail & Watercress Salad recipe (pic), Cave Beetles

Source of the above information: Dragon Age The Official Cookbook - Tastes of Thedas

If you’re not able to get the book, and there’s a recipe or two in the Contents that you’d like to see/read, let me know and I’ll show you (❁´◡`❁)

Link to Part 2, in text form (pls copy-paste) as Tumblr won't let me add it as a normal link: https://felassan.tumblr.com/post/732826339350102016/dragon-age-the-official-cookbook-tastes-of

A post you may also be interested in: Food and drink lore compilation from Dragon Age: The Last Court

[☕ found this post or blog interesting or useful? my ko-fi is here if you feel inclined. thank you 🙏]

[she-karev]

Happy Birthday (Andrew DeLuca x Alex Karev’s Sister Birthday Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: One of One

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

Ship: Andrew DeLuca x Amber Karev (Alex Karev’s Sister)

Canon Episode: Season 17 Episode 17

Summary: Amber is reluctant to celebrate her birthday when her friends throw her a surprise party.

Words: 1964

September 7th, 2020

“This was Thornin’s style. He was an important dwarf.” Amber reads to her niece, Luna Karev, inside the incubator where she is sleeping peacefully while her aunt reads her a copy of The Hobbit, “If he had been allowed, he would probably have gone on like this until he was out of breath without telling anyone there anything that was not known already. But he was rudely interrupted.”

“Good morning.” Andrew greets Amber and Luan with a smile inside his helmet.

“And so was I.” Amber closes her book and stands up from her chair to face her boyfriend, “Morning.”

“I woke up and you weren’t in bed, I was gonna make you a special breakfast for today before we leave.”

“Alex and Jo are at their lawyers working out the adoption legal stuff and I didn’t want Luna to wake up alone.” She looks down at Luna with a grin, “I thought Tolkien would better stimulate her than those baby books they keep here.”

“Why can I see you two already going to cosplay as Galadriel and Frodo?”

“You make that sound like a bad thing and it’s not the first time I successfully converted a non-geek. I got you to come with me to Emerald City Comicon for two years in a row.”

“Because I was afraid you would get kidnapped in a sea of nerds.” Andrew jokes before grinning down at Luna, “Don’t worry Luna if you want to want to go hiking or learn how to ride a motorcycle, I’m your guy.”

“You put my baby niece in a sidecar, and I’ll kill you before Alex and Jo do.” Ambre half threatens before she realizes what Andrew said, “Wait why were you gonna make me a special breakfast today? What’s the occasion?”

“Seriously?” Andrew asks dumbfounded causing Amber to shrug, “It’s September the 7th, your birthday.”

“Ya-da-da.” Amber stutters holding her finger up to silence her Italian lover, “No cursing in front of the baby especially if it’s the word that shall not be said again.”

“Okay I know…that word is taboo for you for personal reasons, but I just thought this year would be different.”

“Why would it be different?”

“Because your usual rebellious half birthday celebrations in March was stalled this year by a pandemic and me getting treatment.” Amber frowns at the reminder and looks down at Luna so she doesn’t get lost in her darkness, “I just thought with all that happened maybe we could make up for it by celebrating your actual birthday.”

“No thanks. I would prefer to wait it out until next March instead of having cake on a day I detest.” Amber grabs her book ready to walk out, “Babe I appreciate the effort but it’s wasted. It’s gonna take a lot more than a pandemic and my boyfriend leaving for me to consider September 7th a joyous occasion. Save that energy for March 9th and PS I like chocolate chip pancakes with lots of whipped cream on top sprinkled in chocolate.”

“That is a lot of chocolate.” Andrew points out playfully.

“It’s my half birthday I can indulge myself all I want, or you can.” Amber giggles lightly before walking with him to go to the residents lounge so she can get coffee. They open the door and Amber starts to regret it.

“SURPRISE!” Levi Schmitt, Casey Parker, Dahlia Qadri and Taryn Helm shout out loud in the room with Parker using a confetti cannon. Amber jumps at the bang before the multi color papers float down on her to her annoyance. She groans and brushes the confetti off her before walking inside with a frown towards the residents as well as Alex and Jo who are in the room looking uncomfortable as they know how much Amber hates her birthdays.

“Who blabbed?” Amber asks before turning to Andrew behind her who holds his hands up in defense.

“I swear I had no idea; my plan was a cheese omelet with bell peppers. This is not on me.”

“It was on me.” Amber sees Bailey step forward holding a cone shaped hat that says Happy Birthday, “I made it a point to celebrate residents’ birthdays as much as we can. I figured after the year we had some cake and singing might raise morale. By the time I took this initiative your date was next on the roster.”

“Lucky me.” Amber says sarcastically with a visible frown.

“You see I told you.” Alex says bluntly, “She hates it.”

Bailey glares at him, “She does not hate it.”

“I hate it.” Amber confirms bluntly as well causing Bailey to turn her glare at her, “If you really wanted me to be happy today you should have upped my vacation days that would be better than this crap fest.”

Qadri chuckles from the side, “Yeah we tried telling her you were one of those anti birthday people, but she says those don’t exist.”

“Well then I guess this is the one day she’s proven wrong.” Amber maliciously grins at Bailey.

“Shake that negative birthday energy She-Karev.” The chief tells her in an upbeat tone, “We have vanilla cake will that make you feel better?”

Amber rolls her eyes but sees the rectangle pink frosting cake with ‘Happy Birthday Amber!’ written across it.

“Wiping a birthday off the face of the earth should be an option.” Amber responds still bitter.

Bailey is offended and speaks with a frown as well, “Or you could just tolerate the fact that it’s a 24-hour period where the people who love you can treat you extra special.”

“And for the other 364 days they treat me like garbage?” Amber asks her boss who throws her hands up clearly agitated.

“Look child just eat the damn cake, wear the silly hat and enjoy your birthday, chief’s orders.” Bailey holds out the hat for Amber who looks at it for a silent moment.

“Nope.” Bailey is stumped and drops the hat on the floor. Amber turns to the crowd with a grin, “Thank you everyone but I will not be joining you. You guys can mingle and eat while I get coffee and go back to the NICU and continue to read The Hobbit to my beloved niece.”

“Let my daughter have a mind of her own please.” Alex begs his sister.

“We’ll see.” Amber turns to Andrew, “Save me some cake?”

“It is yours so yeah.”

“Thank you.” Amber walks out of the lounge leaving the others to celebrate her special day without her. Alex and Jo chuckled lightly before cutting the cake.

“You gotta give Amber this she has a unique reaction to her birthday.” Jo says with a smile.

“More like an ungrateful reaction to my attempts to bring joy to burnt out residents.” Bailey corrects with a frown, “Who doesn’t love their birthday? What possible reason could give that child an excuse to walk out on cake and love?”

Alex winces, “Blame me and the rest of our family on that reaction. Me and Aaron were asshole teens by the time Amber was born and our mom could occasionally remember her meds. Whenever her birthday came, we would either forget or I would remember and dump her at the nearest Chuck E Cheese so I could go trolling for chicks.”

“This explains so much.” Taryn states in realization as she eats cake.

“Yeah and it didn’t help that I left for med school not long after her tenth birthday.” Alex adds to his shame grabbing a big slice for himself that he instantly devours.

Jo squeezes Alex’s arm, “She more than gets you leaving to survive, she did it too. And besides birthdays are overrated and most of the time your expectations are high, and you get let down every time.”

Alex and Andrew look at Jo surprised that she’s also anti birthday like Amber. Out of the two of them Jo is the more upbeat and positive while Amber is more sulky and cynical. Jo sees the stares and explains.

“Foster parents never remembered my birthday and the gifts I got from charity were always addressed ‘to boy’ and ‘to girl’. It’s safe to say that I more than get Amber’s reluctance to celebrate what should have been a big day.”

“Yeah I get that.” Alex shares, “My parents forgot my birthday and it got to the point where I even forgot my own.”

Andrew looks sullen by these stories, “Wow if they ever want to hire people to make others feel bad you three could be rich.”

Jo chuckles lightly, “It would be great compensation for crappy upbringings.”

“Well now I feel bad.” Bailey sulks eating her cake, “I wish you would have tried harder to stop me before I spent money on this wasted party.”

The residents continue to eat their cake instead of arguing that they tried and were ignored. Andrew finishes his cake before deciding to resolve this issue in the privacy of his and Amber’s home so she can feel special on her big day for once.

That Night

Amber turns the key in the lock on the door outside the patio of her and Andrew’s recently bought house. After he came back from Italy a month ago they went forward in buying a new place together. Amber told him his apartment was too painful for her to live in because of all the bad memories of their relationship happening there. She proposed that they get a new place and he agreed and even suggested getting a house instead.

They were able to buy a 2-bedroom house with both of their savings and a backyard for their dog Jazz who was clearly not fit for an apartment. He is the first person to greet her with his three legs scratching the hardwood as he runs toward her panting. Amber quickly closes the door and gives him an affectionate scratch on the head before walking around the marked unpacked boxes around the house.

“Hey boy.” Amber walks toward the kitchen with Jazz following behind her, “Where’s your dad?”

“Stop where you are right now.” Amber freezes at the sound of Andrew’s voice and stays in place. He walks inside from the hallway carrying a plate with a chocolate cupcake topped with a lit candle providing light in the dim kitchen. He smiles at her, “Happy birthday bella.”

“No.” Amber whines causing Andrew to chuckle as he expected this reaction, “I told you no birthday, we agreed no birthday.”

“Actually, you told me no birthday and I don’t remember making a verbal agreement.” Andrew argues bringing the cupcake with the candle still lit closer to her, “I know you hate your birthday and you have about a million reasons to but I don’t. You may not be happy about the day you were born but I am.”

Amber’s sour attitude deflates at that sweet comment as he continues, “So I’m gonna give you a cake, a private room where we celebrate alone how you like it and your gonna blow out this candle and make a wish. Got it?”

Amber looks at the cupcake enticed by how good it looks wondering if it tastes the same, “…What kind of cake is it?”

“Your favorite, devil’s food, I wasn’t born yesterday come on.”

Amber shakes her head grinning at him before taking the plate from his hands, “Your lucky your cute.”

“I know.” Andrew says smugly, “Now make a wish.”

Amber closes her eyes and blows the candle out making a wish causing Andrew to clap before she takes the first bite and celebrates her birthday for the first time feeling like it’s not a day to dread instead a day to celebrate thanks to the man that she loves.

[prettyinlimegreenboots]

OC Moodboard Game: Captain Adelaide Baker

Thanks @luminouslywriting for the tag! Love this idea!

OC: Captain Adelaide Baker

Animal: Eagle

City: Detroit, Michigan

Plant: Mint

Character: Leanne Rorish (Code Black) - sassy and no nonsense, get it done attitude

Season: Winter

Hobby: Flying planes & keeping boys in line

Color: Emerald Green

Crystal: Ruby

Food: Cake, especially birthday cake

No pressure tag: @thedeviltohisangel @mercurygray @precious-little-scoundrel @ginabaker1666

[gentlelass]

- Storm, Calm, Blizzard -

Following down here a Mordecai Heller x Oc, in this case Morderie to be specific, cringey, cheesy long-ass Lackadaisy fan fiction for the joy of my sweet fans. And if you ain’t a fan, well, you’re welcome to read it too, it is free and hopefully enjoyable. And if you don’t want to… well then, don’t and scroll, I won’t hold it against you. I’ve personally had my fun writing this.

Undefined day of a not any less undefined month, somewhen, roaring 20’s

The sun beat down, unrelenting and relentless, merciless. The streets were littered with garbage, and a smog hung low over the town as if the sky were caked over a layer of grey tar. The city was no better than the streets it lay upon, yet at this moment, that didn't matter, not to those responsible for maintaining order within its borders.

Order… or shall I say, disorder?

“Damn it.” “Damn it.” “Damn it.”

As Mordecai Heller stepped out into the sweltering heat of the city, his thoughts were consumed not by the grime-covered streets or the oppressive smog, but by the need for order and cleanliness in his own meticulous world.

Shrinking in his trench coat, attempting to turn himself as small and unassuming as possible, trying to step only into the shadows, and to pass he himself as one: the less anyone saw him, the better.

Black silhouette moving with haste, he really could have passed for a shadow, hadn’t it been for the crackling clicking of his loafers, flickering of emerald eyes and the incoherent and just as hastened muttering coming from lips pursued in a thin line, more like an animalistic hiss than actual words, really.

“Damn it.” “Damn it.” “Damn it.”

His words, spoken as though they were being torn from the depths of his soul, rang across the streets, and he felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck as if he'd been struck by lightning at the sight of any other person crossing his path, be it in this or that direction, be it man, woman, child.

“Do they know?”

No, of course they didn’t. Mordecai had done everything according to plan, as always.

Gleam of pistols reflecting in the slanted rays of the sun, shot the target on the spot and left nothing behind but ashes. No, they didn’t know about the causes of the fire - arson - going on just two blocks of distance, or the purpose of it. Not yet, at least.

But that didn’t mean he was safe just yet, either.

Mordecai shuddered, inhaling the rancid smell of death coming from… himself. But he didn’t stop marching, no; on the contrary, it was yet another reason to walk even faster. He would’ve run, but that would just draw even more attention to him - not that he currently was in the spotlight at all right now, mind you, he was doing a pretty decent job at passing unobserved. But we all do can reckon that feeling, the feeling only a guilty conscience can know, of having all eyes on you even when you don’t. He hated it, despised it in fact, it gave his chest a terrible ache as he pushed forward. He kept walking as fast as his legs could carry him, despite the burning pain radiating through them, until eventually the sound of the gunshots faded away into nothing, leaving only silence and the sweat pouring off of his brow.

Not that Mordecai felt guilty, mind you. Well, not completely. It wasn’t that he felt like what he did for a living was in itself wrong, really; after all, to him it was just business, a business like any other, an exchange of a service for a paycheck. Besides, the people whom he was charged to ‘deal with’ weren’t helpless sheep just as much as he, wasn’t.

Yet that’s what he was trying to pass off, as of now— a sheep, or better say, the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

And however he DID, feel guilty… or maybe anxious? Uneasy? Distressed? Errant? Erring? Mordecai couldn’t find the exact term for it right now, he had never been good with emotions, not the ones of others, let alone his own; in fact, he’d rather be devoured alive by them than acknowledge them.

So, he tried to ignore them for the sake of his sanity, and focus on other, more pressing matters. Like how long he could keep walking without collapsing. Or how long his stomach could hold food down. Or how far away from danger he could run without running straight into it (or something else). Or how many steps he could take before he became too weak to continue

As I was saying, what Mordecai DID, feel… whatever pesky, petty, PESTIFEROUS emotion it was he was trying not to feel, about, was not much WHAT he had done, but HOW he did it.

How utterly… unprofessional. Improper. Negligent. Unseemly. Inane. Dilettante, even. Oh yes, how very unprofessional he had behaved. How very irresponsible. How very reckless.

And most of all, how very cowardly. If it hadn't been for his quick reflexes… if it hadn't been for his keen eye for detail… If it hadn’t been for his experience on the field… If it hadn’t been for his determination… If it hadn’t been for the fire!

Oh, leaving a whole edifice to the flames!

So very discreet of you, Mordecai.

Perhaps the Savoy siblings were starting to infect him like the morbus they were. The morbus of impulse. Of impulsive, irrational behavior. In short, he was in trouble. And he knew it. Which meant he had to come up with a plan B, or risk exposure. Or… worse.

So, he walked onwards, pushing on the blistering heat, through the filth, the squalor, the stench, the sweat and all the other things he would’ve found simply unbearable if it hadn’t been for his sheer desperation to reach destination. His destination, it seemed, was the source of his troubles, the place where the trouble lay, but also the place where the trouble may be solved: the place where Mordecai would finally be safe (supposedly) from most manner of authority and finally get rid of his suit soaked wet in blood currently concealed by nothing but a long, albeit scorched, trench coat.

Unless if - whoever or whatever reigns up there in the skies forbid - some manner of prohibition agent had the godforsaken idea to stop and search him right now in his most vulnerable state.

… since when Mordecai was a religious man? Jewish, sure, but more out of habit than anything. He has never trusted too much in a supposedly all-mighty all-knowing Deity looking and pointing his finger at him like Santa to naughty children. These feelings he couldn't quite identify but neither quite ignore really were getting to his otherwise icy head.

It took an eternity, but the familiar outline of the Maribel Hotel finally came into Mordecai’s slightly doubled from cracked spectacles, view.

There was an old sign above the front door, which read “Travellers Welcome” in bright yellow letters, although Mordecai wasn't particularly interested at the moment; instead his eyes scanned the street, looking for movement, a hint of light, anything to indicate that someone was watching him. But there was nothing. Just another day in the rat hole. Stepping past the doors, Mordecai entered the hotel, a cold gust of air brushing against his face like an icy finger. Despite the cold, inside the hotel was warm, welcoming and full of life - it was almost comical, the warmth emanating from the lobby and the sounds of happy chatter spilling from the room’s open doorway. Mordecai ignored it all as he stepped past the front desk, towards the elevators. Pressing the button once, twice, three times and then four, he waited impatiently for the contraption to arrive. He could feel receptionist's eyes on his back the whole time, a bit squinted at that, but Mordecai paid him no mind. Too dull, too naive and too young, he was the last of Mordecai's problems. Actually, Mordecai wasn't even sure the boy was of legal working age just yet. He could have possibly still been a nursling for all Mordecai knew (and cared). The doors finally opened, and Mordecai stepped inside, taking a seat next to the lone elevator operator who was reading a newspaper in quiet contemplation, fingers delicately drumming against the wooden countertop. Mordecai took off his spectacles, gesturing to clean them in his jacket, taking a deep breath to finally calm down and get his stoically composed bearings back. Just a few moments. Just a few precious moments…

… "Where do you want me to go?" Came suddenly from beside him. Mordecai startled, whipping his head around rapidly to look at the other occupant of the elevator, a small gasp slipping from his mouth at the sight of black waves bouncing around a smirk that didn’t reach the owner’s eyes.

Behind the newspaper, much to Mordecai's dismay, there was not the visage of yet another under-aged and I dare saying under-brained lackey, rather, a woman's visage, a sharp one at that, too perceptive for her occupation and certainly too much so for Mordecai's liking.

“… and what are you doing here, Miss Ford?”

Mordecai sighed, his body tensing again, if not even more so, than it had been before, replacing the spectacles right back on his nose to pierce… that woman, with frigid eyes, just as cold as the icepick look she would have had the pleasure of witnessing may she do a wrong move now.

“Joey called in sick.”

“… excuse me, who?”

“Joey Joe. The resident liftboy.”

“… hence?”

“Hence, here am I.”

“… do you not have more urgent duties to tend to, Miss Ford?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do rather than interviewing me, Mr Heller? This is an elevator, not an interrogation room.”

Respectively, the Sphinx’s smile widened, and the tuxedo cat’s frown deepened.

“Fifth floor, Miss Ford.”

The Mister abruptly cut the Miss short, and hopefully - that, at least for him - the conversation as a whole as well. And the latter, like the good maid she was, couldn't but obey, a gaunt hand pulling the infamous lever to the side, the other raising the paper she was holding higher, obscuring herself from Mordecai’s line of sight as well as she could manage. If he didn't want to hear her, then why should he get to see her either? A minute passed, and the elevator slowly started to rise, its ascent interrupted only once, during which time Miss Ford turned to look at Mordecai with probing eyes, almost morbidly obsessive so, the corners of her lips quirking upwards ever so slightly as she did so. "Back from a job, Mr Heller?" "… pardon me?"

Mordecai frowned, his session of self-reflection interrupted for the second time in a row. What was with Ford today? Sprawled onto her stool like a panther bathing in the sun, she gave Mordecai one of her usual smiles that didn't quite reach her eyes, the one that usually made the man want to punch or strangle her right there and then; the smile of a politician, the kind that just as easily lied through her teeth, just as easily told the truth, and just as easily lied by omission while keeping up her façade of sheep - wolf in sheep's clothing, assassin in a maid's uniform, maid in all senses of the word, or was she? It wasn't quite easy discerning Ford's age, if at all, with the sweet little, flushed face of a kid in a candy store and the shrewd look in her eyes of someone who is ready to rob it all and leave one or two bodies on the way behind her.

"Your specs, Mr Heller. Almost as much damaged as is your criminal record." She replied pointedly, her voice far too smiling even behind the newspaper to be anything but mocking. Mordecai could feel his headache already starting in earnest, though that was probably entirely due to her being in the same damn elevator as him.

Cheeky woman.

“Our, criminal records, if you please. You’re no ‘Angel in the House’ either, for how much you may look the part, sweet Miss Ford.” Mordecai retorted cooly, not thinking much about his words before uttering them. He never put much thought in small talk, and neither for this kind of pointless banter.

Marjorie, on her hand (paw?)…

“… Coventry Patmore? I didn’t know you had such a romantic streak in you, Mr Heller.”

She laughed softly, and Mordecai’s gaze immediately shot to her face, his heart rate picking up. There it was again, the smile playing around those faintly tinted lips, the twinkle in those golden eyes, the dimple appearing on her cheek every time she stretched her lip a little further upward. He swallowed thickly.

He just wanted to strangle her.

“Excuse you?”

“Sweet Miss Ford? You make me blush, Mr Heller. The company of that playboy of Nicodeme Savoy is doing you wonders, truly!” That woman continued! Cheeky, impudent, imprudent, insolent woman!

“I—-!“

But before the ‘pointless banter’ could continue, the elevator came to a screeching halt, startling both of them; and with the abrupt stop, Mordecai stumbled forward, his hands grasping onto the doors of the elevator desperately, trying to get out of there - away from HER. “‘At lovers’ perjuries, they say Jove laughs’, Mr Heller!”

The now accidentally baptised ‘sweet Miss Ford’ laughed behind is back, as the accidental poet rushed his way down the stairs of the Hotel trying not to break his neck in the least dignified way possible. Not that he had much of a dignity left to him, at this point.

“Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, Miss Ford!”

Our budding Casanova yelled back, and with a feline leap and skilled move he was out of the field of view of the… well, ‘Imp of the House’, at this point.

“I knew it! So you’re not an automoton after all! That romantic streak, Mr Heller!”

Mordecai’s race down the relative safeness of the Maribel Hotel away from that hearty, not at all threatening laugh was far more fomented than it had been when he was essentially running from an actual threat to his life out on the rowdy streets, because his desire now was another, and whether it was to plant a bullet thorough that little poetry-filled skull or something of another, to him much more disturbing, nature, he knew not.

What he did know, was that he, Mordecai Heller, ‘had never been good with emotions, not the ones of others, let alone his own, in fact he’d rather be devoured by them alive rather than acknowledge them’.

Same goes for a desire stirring within him, a desire terribly resembling of her.

He could just hope it was only violent in nature, just as violent as the thundering through the blizzard of his heart of ice.

————————————

Heeeey there,

you made it ‘till down here, uh? Must be a patient soul.

More patient than Mordecai for sure, who can’t stand still in an enclosed space with Marjorie for two minutes before rushing outside like a blushing schoolgirl.

But anyhow, it seems fairly clear to me this whole… thingy? Is a major wordplay with the common sayings ‘the calm before the storm’, ‘heart of ice’, quotes from real-life writers, a constant use of figures of speech common in poetry, such as oxymorons, spannungs, anaphors, metaphors and so on. Mordecai is a reserved man, curt and detached in his speech, but verbose and cultured as well, so playing with dialectics seemed a fair way of writing his otherwise somewhat cryptic, unreadable and inimitable character. Mordecai is a mystery, more of an enigma than he is of a man, and most enigmas come in form of wordplays after all, do they not?

-GentleLass.

[madwomansapologist]

fan behavior | Edward Nigma

Masterlist | Taglist | Library | More Edward Nigma | AO3

synopsis: When the Riddler send you a letter, you thought that the day of your death was near. How could you be so wrong about someone?

warnings: Arkham. he is kinda of obssessed. its fluff. convos about murder, death and violence. i swear its fluff. you will understand this later: i love poems and you can do nothing about it.

People believe that to live in Gotham is to live with fear. You once was like that. Thinking about every possibility. It was like drowning in a shallow lake. All that panic, and for nothing. Every person you did suspect, every siuation you did overthink, every sound that scared you: you were waiting for danger, prepared for it, but it never came.

Everyone shall die, all those news channels make sure that no one could forget that, but you don't know how it will happen. When. You may die because Joker didn't like your face, but you also could die because your heart couldn't take it any longer. Or you could die when you're so old that people won't even say that it was unfair, but that you needed to rest.

You were sick of living with fear. Sick of not living because of fear. Of making yourself smaller, quieter, to fit into spaces that you don't want to fit in. So you changed. You decided to be honest with your soul, and to respect that deal. You decided to live.

So you wrote a book. Not your first, not even close, but the first that wasn't fiction. A non-fiction novel about how a violent and corrupted city could kill the soul of their citizens. You told the stories that mainstream media was affraid to. About students, widowers, orphans, homeless, survivors. The stories about fear, and grief, and trauma, and hope. About dreams and nightmares. About finding your strength and losing it. About deciding life wasn't worth or finding out that it was.

And it was a best-seller. Awarded. It was... Damn. You had a good career, writing mostly romances and a little bit of fantasy, but not that good. Money, interviews, awards. You had authors you idolize saying things like "brutally frank", "a milestone of her maturity as a story teller", "disciple of Truman Capote".

It was your peak. It really was. It was everything you ever dreamed about it. You didn't need a parallel job anymore, you could just write. If it was the end of your story it would be perfect. But you didn't want it to be the end. So you tried to find a new ideia. Something that could comunicate with your soul. Something you really wanted to write.

Coming back home after a meeting with your editor and your agent, the train stopped in between stations and you made home just late a night. Gotham, right? You were scheduled to give another interview. Its a big channel, so they were preparing you for some questions that could be made.

In front of your door step you found something different. Something interesting. Its been long gone the time were writers received letters. Now, its emails. But it happened for you to receive letters at your home or at your company some few times, maybe less then five. But now you weren't facing just a letter. It was a really big emerald box, with a scarlet envelope adressed to you.

You were so naive to though it would be just a gift. You really did think it could be something from the TV show you gonna be interviewed. So, without thinking twice about it, you held the heavy box and entered your home with a bright smile.

You couldn't imagine that, but people would make sure he knew you had smiled.

First things first: you put everything on your table and prepared a hot bath. You needed that bath. That moment of relaxation. Everyone deserves that after dealing with Gotham. Smelling like roses, you wrapped yourself in a towel and went to find something to eat. You could hear your grandma screaming at you for opening the refrigerator wearing just a towel, but you were starving.

Devouring a piece of your favorite cake, you remembered about the box on your table. You took the scarlet envelope. Using a knife, you opened it.

My dearest writer,

When I overflow with words I don't have

When the candle that heat my heart starts to erase

And I ask myself in which mirror did my face get lost

I discover that lost in your words the summer is eternal

You are my North, my South, my East and my West

And because of you my madness is divinest sense

Your smile was so big. It was... so sweet. So considerate. No other channel had done something so lovely for you. This is not just a poem. With just one look you can see that those verses are references to books and poems you loved. They even saw your interviews talking about your inspirations!

The first line was a Faulkner reference. The second: Tolstoi and his wonderful Ana Karenina. Then a little bit of brazillian literature with Cecília Meireles on the third line. A clear reference to Shakespeare on the fourth. The next was a snippet of your favourite poem: Funeral Blues. And the last one, you had to think about before coming to a conclusion, was Emily Dickinson.

Smiling like a teenager, you go after the box. It was so heavy, you keep wondering what is inside it. Carefully, you put the envelope on your table and opened the emerald box. And it was... a vault. A black one, with digits to put a password. It was like in the movies, but the difference is that the keyboard has letters on it.

Looking at the open flap of the box, you noticed a yellow post-it.

First things first. It can't be that difficult, can it?

Laughting to yourself you agreed with a head movement, even tho no one was there to look at you. Of course you didn't know that a camera was recording it on the other side of the street, so that wasn't a lie. Just a silly little mistake.

First things first.

You wrote William Faulkner on the keyboard and hoped it would work. With a little click, the vault opened. And inside of it, you found another vault. Smaller this time. You quickly realized what you need do to. So you keep writing the name of the next writer, getting an even smaller vault, until the very last line of the poem dedicated to you.

When the name of Emily Dickinson was wrote, you didn't knew what to expect. Another click, the vault was now open, and inside it you found... another envelope? This was as emerald as the box. You took the letter inside it.

Arkham Asylum, Intensive Treatment Center, Cell 140D. Tomorrow.

And as easy as it came, your smile faded away. You should've know better. A emerald package. How did you not look at it and immediately notice it was made by the Riddler. "Oh, fuck."

What have you done? Did you say something about him during a interview? No. No, you didn't. What could make you a target? What you did wrong? What will he do with you?

You analyzed every vault. You must had missed something. Shouldn't his riddlers have a punishment for those who don't know the asnwers? But they were just vaults. You took his letters, looking for any subtle threat that you didn't notice before.

Why the first envelope was red? It didn't make sense. His color is green. Everything is green when it comes about him. But reading the letters again... they sound affectionate. Even now knowing that he was the one that made it, it don't seen like a threat.

He called you his dearest writer. The first few verses formed the image of someone who is not in a great moment in live. Someone that is losing hope, who can't recognize himself, who can't even put it into words. And then, this person find peace. Someone whos summer is eternal. His personal compass. Someone who made his madness seen divinest.

If he wanted to threatened you, shouldn't he write about bad things? Or even just put a bomb inside one of the vaults. And why he want to see you? But deep inside you knew that he was the only one that could asnwer those questions. The only question you should be worrying about was: will you go?

And could just stay at home. You could have purchased a one-way ticked to Metropolis. You could have run to Commissioner Gordon and beged him to call Batman. You could have done a lot of things.

But fear and curiosity would eat you whole.

You never been in Arkham before. You saw it on television, but this was way different than you could've imagined. Outside, it seen like a hauting mansion. If a ghost came from it, you wouldn't have blink an eye. But inside it... it was even worse.

Not hanted: it was inhuman. Lifeless. No one could live in a place so dark, and visceral, and threatning. You heard laughs when the guards took you to the maximum security area. You don't think someone could experience something worth a laugh on a place like this.

"Don't touch him." One of the guards told you before opening the last door. "Don't give him anything. You can get out of there anytime you want. Scream if you need help."

Glaring at the last thing between you and he, you breath in and nodded. When you entered the room, you took a few second to get used to the light. It was a white room, with a tiny white bed, white sheets and white chairs. You would go crazy with you had to stay a day there.

And chained to his bed, Riddler admired every move you made. Almost embarrased by his powerful presence, you made your way to the white chair. You couldn't do this while standing. It was weird to see him without a mask. It felt wrong. But you couldn't help but to analyze every single feature of his face. Riddler look like a normal guy. Like someone you could see at the bus stop.

"Here you are." His voice alone gave you goosebumps. "I started to think you wouldn't come over."

The sunset was a few hours ago. You recorded the interview, but all the time you were thinking about what would happen when you were in front of him. "You invited me."

"Invited?" Riddler smiled. He rubbed his tights, it was like he would start laughing just like the crazy guy you heard on the corridor. "Yes, I did. My manners: welcome to my temporary house."

"Temporary?" The smartest thing you could do was to act nice. Maybe he would put you on his good side and decided not to do anything with you. His others victims didn't have a chance to talk to him before they were murdered. But if he wants to kill, he will. Nothing you could do would change that. This probably is just a game to him. So he better be prepared because you ain't going to be scared. Never again. "You killed the major. This is your forever-home."

"That was mean," his smile didn't fade away, it just got bigger. Even his voice changed. It was almost a purr. He liked the way you talked to him? It appears like he did. "Are you scared of me? Thats why you think that I should be there until the day I die?"

"I am not scared of you. I am angry." You crossed your arms. "Why am I here? And don't say that I am here because I was invited. Why you want me here?"

Riddler was in silence for a few minutes. Not smiling anymore, he didn't even look at you. "30 seconds."

"What?"

"Thats what took you to solve my riddle." He told you. "You were smiling the whole time. Glowing. You were glowing the whole time. I could see in your eyes: the moment you read the poem you knew what it really means. Did you have fun?"

"I... did." What was going on? Why was he acting sad? "You saw me?"

"You getting home, so stressed and tired, and your smile when you found my gift. You hold it so gently. You solving it so easily, drops of water running down your body... It was a divine vision. Are you a god, by the way?"

You could felt your cheeks burning. You were only using a towel and he was seeing you. No. Not him. He is there, right in front of you, so it must have beeing one of his fans. They recorded you to show to him?

"Are you really angry with me?" He pout. "You had fun, didn't you?"

"You threatened me." Now you were uncertain of that. "You demanded me to see you today. You were spying on me."

"Threatened you? I could never do that!" He really sounded offended. "It was a gift. I spend so much time making something you would love. I watched all your interviews. Read all your favourite books. I even know your favourite color is scarlet. The color of passion. It was gift. And a invitation. And I wasn't spying on you. I was just seeing your reaction."

Now you couldn't put any words together. What does that... What does that even mean? "You won't kill me?"

"No!" Riddler punch his bed. "Oh... the things they say about writers is true. They won't understand you love them even after a love letter."

"What?" You gasped. "Love letter?"

"My dearest writer. When I overflow with words I don't have. When the candle that heat my heart starts to erase. And I ask myself in which mirror did my face get lost. I discover that lost in your words the summer is eternal. You are my North, my South, my East and my West. And because of you my madness is divinest sense."

So... you were right about it. There were nothing threatening about the letter. It all sounded so romantic when he chanted. So pure. "You... love me?"

"Most ardently."

"Jane Austen." You recognized without missing a bet. "Its another riddle?"

"No." Suddenly, he was standing. He wasn't chained anymore, they all fall to the floor. Riddler smiled. "It is a confession."

GENERAL TAGLIST: @suakemi @notanalienindisguiseblink

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[impossiblesuitcase]

How the Kingdom Lights Shine

Artemisia Palace has the grandest, most opulent dining hall Kai has ever seen, and that’s saying a lot. He’s an emperor; he has been to state dinners in every country and nearly every city on the blue Earth. He’s seen crystalline cutlery and wax candle chandeliers and food so impossible one daren’t eat it.

But Luna takes the cake. Literally, they have taken cake and transformed it into a fifty-tier, ten-metre-tall sculpture, each layer separated by gold lace that should be physically incapable of holding such weight. A fountain flows in the centre, spurting out creamy gravity-defiant chocolate which falls in ribbon-like swirls into a golden basin.

And that’s just the cake. The decorations are excessive, the entertainment is sheer magic and the servers bow to all. No doubt a portion of the spectacle is accomplished through glamour, and that fact makes Kai uncomfortable.

Cinder, sitting at the head of the table, looks frazzled by it all. When she’d asked the chefs to prepare a meal for her and her closest friends, it was unlikely she’d anticipated this.

Her eyes are screaming at him. Feeling playful, he smiles as if clueless, shrugs and turns back to his diamond-studded parfait.

“She’s not quite in her element,” comes the voice seated at his right.

Kai switches his attention from the bowl—contemplating how the diamonds are edible—to the rouge beauty next to him. Her bright hair is pulled back into a simple ponytail with a braid crowning her head. Her dress is emerald, a similar cut to what she wore at Cinder’s coronation last week. The only ornamentation is stunning dangling crystals adorning her ears and her natural charm.

He laughs. “Not even slightly.”

“Sorry,” she says with that distinct French accent, although more rural than the Parisian diplomats he’s familiar with. “I meant to say hello, but someone”—she juts out a thumb at her neighbour; Winter, enrapturing the attention of all nearby—“won’t let me breathe.”

Kai smiles. “Not an issue.”

“So…” She cups her chin with her hand, resting a sacrilegious elbow on the table. “You’re the famous Emperor Kaito.”

“And you’re the famous Scarlet Benoit.” He recites the title with a deserved reverence. “I have to say, you’re very well-renowned with this crowd.”

“I’d better be.”

A retinue of servants approach the table in perfect unison, like synchronised swimmers of the culinary pool. They kneel beside the guests with a tray of merlot in gold and silver chalices perched on their heads. From across the table, Cress is flapping her hands with a spluttered, “I’m not eighteen!” while Thorne, despite not being of legal drinking age in his native country, is already a third of the way through a glass.

Kai and Scarlet simultaneously decline, more so that the server can be freed from this cramped position.

“I suppose you’re used to all this,” says Scarlet, shaking her head in disbelief.

“Not really.” He takes a bite from his parfait. The diamonds crunch under his teeth, melting into a syrupy honey on his tongue. “Even the Earthen elites don’t go all out like this.”

They share a look, and together: “Lunars.”

It sparks muffled laughter, knowing that most of their peers on this table are Lunar. It’s nice, still, to have some solidarity with a fellow Earthen, to both recognise how foreign this mingling of cultures would have been to their untrained minds just months ago.

Scarlet takes a bite of the pistachio sponge in her bowl, which is surrounded by dark chocolate trees and a matcha crumble moss. It’s the perfect scene of a fairy-tale forest, and yet Scarlet still mutters, “too many eggs.” 

Based on the lemon cake she made for Cinder’s coronation, he’ll take her word for it.

She discards her spoon in her bowl and turns to him. “So, I assume you and Cinder are…together.”

“Absolutely.”

A grin. “Hm. She had the most obvious crush on you. I’m glad to know it was reciprocated.”

He wipes his brow with his sleeve, a touch embarrassed. “I was likely worse. Torin probably thought I’d returned to early puberty for how much I gushed about her.” Scarlet is still, essentially, a stranger, yet there’s something about her so honest and comforting, like a cup of hot chocolate from a kind old woman on a blustery day, that he has no qualms in baring these secrets. “Still,” he adds, contemplative, “not as much as Wolf to you.”

She rolls her eyes, but it’s a tender gesture. “He’s the worst.”

Wolf is across from them, gazing longingly at Scarlet. Iko arranged the seating plan so guests could interact with those more unfamiliar, and Wolf is evidently not impressed.

Scarlet notices his superglued gaze and blows him a kiss. He turns red.

Kai snorts. “You’re evil.”

“I know. That’s love.” Something flickers in her eyes as she leans back in her chair. “Speaking of which, may I ask when you realised you loved Cinder? After all, you were actively trying to track her down with your military. It makes for an, euh, unlikely romance.”

No one—asides from Levana—has asked him yet if he loves Cinder. But Scarlet is keenly observant. It’s not a matter of if he has fallen in love, but when.

“Here, on Luna, while I was trapped inside this prison for a pal—” he clamps his jaw shut, wishing to retract his words. Yes, his confinement to his suite in the palace had been tortuous, but Scarlet had actually been imprisoned. And actually tortured. “Um, while the others were in the outer sectors,” he amends, “I had a lot of time on my hands to think. I worried about her constantly, and I guess at some point it just ticked over in my brain. It wasn’t a sharp realisation. It was just fact. I was in love with her.” 

He finds his eyes latching onto Cinder unbidden. She’s in a beautiful gown and a glimmering tiara, courtesy of one Carswell Thorne, and scoffing at one of Jacin’s snide comments. “I am in love with her.”

“I hope she knows that.”

A flush covers his ears. This is revenge for mocking Wolf, he knows, because the florid is far more obvious on Kai’s pale skin than Wolf’s tanned.

To be frank, he hasn’t told Cinder. Not because he doubts his feelings, rather, because he doesn’t know how deep hers are. It’s all new, and he doesn’t want to scare her off with premature confessions.

Scarlet blessedly doesn’t mock him. She folds her hands over the table. “You know, Cinder has been treated horribly these past months. Actually, her whole life, I think,” she includes, scowling. “I’m sure you know it well: the terrible, salacious claims they made about her in the newsfeeds. And people do believe it. In my own town, Rieux, when the footage from the ball was released, they said—ugh—disgusting, perverted things.”

He sighs, knowing all too well what was levelled against his girl. “Right. Being cyborg and Lunar. How appalling.”

“Cyborg and Lunar, yes, and also”—she looks at him very seriously—“how much they wanted to take her home and use her.”

His face contorts. “...Use her?” 

A grim nod.

Kai has to bite his tongue to stop himself from thumping the underside of the table. He knew this, minutely, logically, yes he knew. But he didn’t…he couldn’t…

“Unfortunately, people haven’t changed their opinions yet. Particularly when it comes to your relationship. You are ‘the victim,’” she air quotes, “and her ‘the predator.’”

“They’re vile. The whole lot of them.”

“Of course.” A platter of fruits is presented before them, and Scarlet lets out an awed, “real food.” She nabs a strawberry, sucking out its sweetness. After a bite, she says, “I know I don’t know you very well, but I do feel I know you to some extent.”

“Most people feel that way,” he assures, “my being a public figure since birth and all.”

Her lips purse into a smile. “I actually had a poster of you on my wall when I was fifteen. My grand-mère cut it off—”

“—a cereal box?" he half chuckles, half grimaces. “That was never a licenced product, by the way.”

Iko, four seats to his left, leans her chair onto its hind legs and calls, “I had that cereal box too! And a fan club membership—number one fan!”

“Stop eavesdropping!” Scarlet yells back.

“Can’t help that I have super high-radius hearing.” She swings back to all four legs with a clomp as Cinder corrects, “Peony had the membership.” “She said I could share!”

Kai snickers.

When he returns to Scarlet, she is shaking her head, carrying on as though uninterrupted. “I put that poster on my wall because I thought you were cute, but also respectful and good-hearted,” she recalls plainly.

Although this praise is not uncommon, Scarlet strikes him as someone not easily impressed, and a flutter of bashfulness thrums in his chest.

“Meeting you now, I still hold that opinion. That’s why I believe you will be good to Cinder.” She plucks another strawberry from the tray, carefully tearing off the leaves. “Still, if I was unsure of your relationship status, how much more so will the public be? How much more so will the rumours persist.”

Sure, they haven’t announced anything. But they aren’t the only ones: Scarlet and Wolf’s relationship was confirmed through loving glances. Jacin’s arm around Winter apparently made it official last week, and the only surprise is that Kai learnt that they weren’t already dating. Cinder bumped into Thorne kissing Cress in the hallway and warned him not to mess with her feelings, which received a grave: “I’m not. I love her.” 

(When Cinder relayed the tale to the others, Kai mentally patted himself on the back. His pep talk in the Rampion podship had penetrated deeper past Thorne’s defences than Kai had ever hoped.)

Still, Scarlet is right. The difference is clear: Cinder and Kai are the ones the public cares about.

She extends the fruit to him. “Cinder doesn’t deserve those comments, does she?”

Kai digs his nails into his hips. Isn’t it obvious to everyone in a ten-kilometre range that he loves Cinder? Even embarrassingly so, as Levana and Torin and Dr. Erland had made quite plain?

But people are people, and people persecute.

He kissed Cinder in front of Scarlet before the coronation, he recalls. They kissed on the Rampion in front of their friends, even when they hadn’t defined their relationship because commitment was too optimistic, the environment too fickle. 

They have something now they hadn’t had back then—permanence, however strange and new and infeasible. He doesn’t even know how it can last when they will be rulers of different lands, doesn’t know if Cinder will even want to become empress. Doesn’t know if Cinder wants children when that is an essential requirement of being his wife. He doesn’t know her favourite colour or song or netdrama or much of anything about her.

And yet, in spite of every spite, it still feels permanent. There is no doubt.

He accepts the strawberry from Scarlet and bites down hard on its seeded sweetness.

———

“Long live the queen! Long live the queen!”

Cinder is considering throwing up. At least that would expel the butterflies from her stomach. 

No, butterflies are how she feels with Kai—happy and fluttery and safe. Right now in her gut, squawking, belligerent crows are playing frisbee.

“They’re waiting for you, Your Majesty,” says Kinney, as he and another guard open the large double doors to the balcony.

Damned audio interface. The chanting is deafening, yet she’s forced to hear his whisper. If she pretends she didn’t hear it, maybe she won’t have to go out at all.

“Your Majesty?”

Cinder nods, or maybe shakes her head, before a force starts to push her forward. It could be Iko fed up with her nervousness, or even someone glamouring her, or just her own legs taking master of her body. Nevertheless, one moment she’s safely concealed inside, and the next she’s towering above thousands of her subjects.

Cheers erupt. Flags and banners are waved and the chant starts up again. “Long live the queen!”

The queen! She hasn’t even mustered up the courage to tell Kai she loves him, much less know how to lead these people! And she is responsible for every single face down there, not to mention the million others not gathered in this courtyard. There are those congregating in the streets of Artemisia; huddled together in public squares in the outer sectors.

How it can be so invigorating to stand in front of a crowd and galvanise them into rioting, yet paralysing to address them afterwards? Is it the massive drop? A UFO of doubt sucking her up in its beam?

Warning —Erratic heart rate. Recommended course of action is: Slow breaths.

Commencing in 3, 2,

Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

She is their queen, so she will stand unbalanced on this balcony in a ridiculously costly gown and diadem instead of her cargo pants and gloves and be their queen.

Cinder smiles awkwardly, and waves, (awkwardly), and either they are particularly forgiving or cannot see her strain from this high up, because they cheer even louder.

In. Out.

Something soft grazes her elbow, coaxing it to slow down, to take a more natural glide. It travels up her arm to firmly grasp her hand.

The crowd reaches an impassioned frenzy for Emperor Kaito of the Eastern Commonwealth. The last she knew, he is supposed to be with their friends in the ballroom.

“What are you doing here?” she whispers.

All the beauty of New Beijing Palace has travelled here, in this moment, over the landscapes of his face. “Hi.”

The crowd adjust easily, shouting, “Long live the emperor! Long live the queen!”

Her eyes magnify on their joint hands like a zoom lens. He’s never done this before in public public, even at her coronation where his polite kiss on the hand was taken as etiquette more than intimacy.

“Long live us, hey?” he murmurs, lips a ventriloquist for the cameras.

She emits a shaky laugh. “Let’s hope.”

Kai comes closer. Cinder lifts her cheek in wait of another whisper, only for him to settle a dizzying kiss on her temple.

Internally, she’s toppling over the balcony rail. But outwardly she’s frozen, deafened by the nuclear explosion of sound below. 

“I think they approve,” he muses into her hair, gloating.

There is no doubt.

Cinder attempts to pull away—check his face for traces of smugness, surely knowing this would bewilder her. Kai slides an arm around her waist so she can’t go too far. 

“You just want your face on the cover of every newsfeed,” she berates with a grin.

“I want us on the cover of every newsfeed.” 

The people beneath them blur into nothing, the sounds become wind. When he winks at her, it’s a far more picture-worthy moment than the kiss. One she will bottle up and unscrew and drink before she goes to bed that night.

Long live the emperor! Long live the queen!

Cinder buries their joint hands into the folds of her skirt, suddenly a lot less nervous. Suddenly she isn’t ruling alone, and neither is he. 

Long may they live.

Notes

This is purely so I can write Kai Scarlet friendship.

I realised I have never advertised this, but I'm on ao3 at au_moins_jessaie

@cindersassasin @hayleblackburn @spherical-empirical @salt-warrior @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @zephyr-thedragon @holdmysparks @oceanspray5 @icarusignite @kaider-is-my-otp @slmkaider @luna-maximoff-22 @cosmicnovaflare @kaixiety @snozkat @imamirrorball4

[valentine-cafe]

. ˚◞♡ we're soul alone & soul really matters to me◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ our selection of decadent desserts ” ꒱ 

this is the page where you will be able to access different character sheets and get to know them a little, while also learning a bit more about our book series: Asterism. it is highly adviced that you read our lorebook before you read some of these pages, you will also have access to more of this on our wiki.

. ˚◞꒰ 🍩 verse 781 ꒱

♡. tiramisu . . . . . . alessio arias

˖ ࣪ the unkillable mercenary . male . a punk goth immortal mercenary with a bad boy esque. flirty, charming and a cocky, chaotic bastard with a love for music and dance. an antihero taking down an evil anti-inhuman organisation with his reckless nature. 

♡. strawberry shortcake . . . . . . rishen herrera

˖ ࣪ the hybrid hero . genderfluid amab . a mantis-moth-spider hybrid and stem genius university student. a nerd with a heart of gold a determination to protect the city. switches between red smart and preppy aesthetic.

♡. mango pudding . . . . . . zhào talisen

˖ ࣪ the poetic naga reaper . male . a dark academia poet. a grim reaper and naga who is quiet and aloof in nature. a hero in alias and an english literature student with a love for threatre. a beautifully macabre soul with a tongue of poetries.

♡. black forest cake . . . . . . rishima singhania

˖ ࣪ the head scientist . female . a genius in all fields of science and a woman of stoicism. her cold heart gives way to surprisingly motherly tendancies. monochromatic 1960's aesthetic. the leader of a hero organisation across the multiverse and a renowned sceintist in her city.

 

. ˚◞꒰ 🍪 verse 164 ꒱

♡. key lime pie . . . . . emerald mania ( alessio agresta )

˖ ࣪ the master of magic . male . the first sorcerer who is considered a corrupt magic god. charming yet sadistic, he takes on the appearance of a demon and dwells in twisted forest. catching poor wanderers and experimenting on their souls. all magic originates from him and he intends to make people remember that. the gods fear his name and the very earth quakes in his presence.

♡. rhubarb and strawberry crumble . . . copper resentment ( zhào talisen )

˖ ࣪ the deity of deceit . male . a siren-like monster that dwells in a large, cursed lake. considered a corrupt god with the power to destroy and reshape universes. a poettic tongue that spills lies and stirs chaos despite his divine and proper appearance. often said to lure beings into the water and challenge the gods. the gods fear his name and the very earth quakes in his presence.

 

. ˚◞꒰ 🍡 verse 209 ꒱

♡. croissant . . . . . . jìngyí herrera

˖ ࣪ the snake monster mad doctor. male . a yandere mad doctor who experiments on non-humans. all prim and proper, ever charming and serene on the outside - but is in fact a calculating and manipulative man. a poet tongue that knows how to deceive and twist the narrative.

♡. red velvet cheesecake . . . . . . rishen herrera

˖ ࣪ the hybrid mad scientist . genderfluid amab . a yandere ceo of a science and research company. effortless and charismatic. a man of cunning intelligence. classy red aesthetic and an indulgent individual that masks evil ethics and sadistic non-human experiments with deceptive charm. 

♡. lemon meringue cheesecake . . . . . . zhào haitao

˖ ࣪ the demon reaper mercenary . trans male .  a cold and calculated member of the resistance against the . a grim reaper with a demon symbiotically bonded to him. intelligent and ruthless. he feeds off vengeance and vows to bring justice to this foresaken world. dark male aesthetic. 

 

. ˚◞꒰ 🧁 verse 9948e ꒱

♡. milk tarts . . . . . . alessio agresta arias

˖ ࣪ the malefic sorcerer . male . a vintage goth sorcerer with a destructive amount of power. dry, sarcastic and chronically tired. a former rockstar who grieves the loss of his lover. now known as a cold-hearted spellcaster on a mission to bring the dead to life. 

♡. lemon coconut tart . . . . . . zhào jìngyí

˖ ࣪ the wandering guarding reaper . male . joyously whimsy, a grim reaper who roams the afterlife after his early passing. always cracking a joke, poet in his own way and soft in nature - yet able to switch instantly on those that underestimate him. he ventures through the realms to aid in missions of the gods. soft aesthetic. 

♡. tres leches cake . . . . . . rishen aryielus

˖ ࣪ the devil in angel's robes . genderfluid amab . a charming and attractive angel of pure divinity. raised by the gods with seemingly a heart of gold. but a frightening presence and terror amount of sword skill despite his benevolent appearance. making most believe that he might indeed be a demon. 

♡. passionfruit custard tart . . . . . . zhào hàoyŭ

˖ ࣪ the artful reaper . male . a dramatic and charismatic grim reaper with a knack for art. ever as flirty and adorned in a punk goth aesthetic with vintage twists. ever as flirtatious and sometimes chaotic. the heart of a rebel who fights to change the system of his world and the divine while he's at it. a vexer of the gods. 

♡. almon jelly . . . . . . zhao yìzé

˖ ࣪ the mercenary reaper . male . an aloof grim reaper who delves into mercenary. taking out his anger in weaponry and kills. a caring soul who would rather remain cold as to not wear his heart on his sleeve more than he already has. cyberpunk aesthetic with a rebellious flair. 

♡. mango pancakes . . . . . . zhào hǎitāo

˖ ࣪the instigator reaper . trans male . an mortician who also delves into the black market as an informant. calm and collected yet ample times cunning. ready to strike down those that deserve. an instigator in nature. soft boy blue aesthetic.

♡. red bean bun . . . . . . yuè mèng yáo

˖ ࣪ the grim reaper mother . female . a woman of great serenity and traditional in her culture's ways. known for her wisdom and peace - yet also the frightening presence that she brings in her wake. the leader of a grim reaper sanctuary and a mother protective of her kids.

♡. bungeoppang . . . . . . . kyung seong-jin

˖ ࣪the diurnal reaper detective . male . a supernatural detective with no filter. a grim reaper who is cold in nature. the heir of a renowned reaper family with a dark male aesthetic. often considered rude - yet dutiful. he has no restraint in his blunt tongue - yet has a warm heart for those he holds dear. 

♡. revani . . . . . . . rasui

˖ ࣪the fire elemental mercenary leader . male . a mercenary leader who is ever as regal and serene. cold on the exterior and strict in nature. a sometimes domineering fire elemental who tries to remain as callm and collected as possible. proper and formal in aesthetic. 

♡. sakura pudding. . . . . . . shimada takara

˖ ࣪the killer kitsune . genderfluid . a kitsune masking their nogitsune nature. chaotic and wild with a bite for thrill and danger. constantly seeking a way to keep themselves from boredom. he finds himself in rasui's mercenary syndicate to manage his violent tendencies. a mix of traditional and cyberpunk aesthetic. 

 

. ˚◞꒰ 🍮 verse 1311 ꒱

♡. egg tarts. . . . . . . jìngyí agresta

˖ ࣪ the naga mechanist . male . a cunning and ice cold mechanic. a naga and grim reaper who performs as an electric guitarist. deadly silent like a predator with a knack for torturing those that cross him in his workshop. if people see him as a villain for fighting back against discriminating humans then so be it. 

♡. vada. . . . . . . . . . . rishen herrera

˖ ࣪the femme fatale admiral . genderfluid amab . the leader of a special agent originisation. and assassin and spy. a man of great intelligence and seductive charm. effortless and femme fatale esque with a sharp tongue. a master strategist with a sense of justice. sassy, sarcastic and a natural leader. scary never wore a smile before him. 

♡. churros. . . . . . . . . alessio agresta arias

˖ ࣪the rockstar rebel leader . male . an arsonist and rebellion leader. a callous man with a sick sense of humour with the destructive power of kinetic energy manipulation. a punk rockstar when he is not causing explosions and stirring fear. flirty, humorous yet ready to do whatever it takes to avenge all fallen inhumans. 

♡. ba bao fan . . . . . . . . . zhào hàoyú

˖ ࣪the demon casino owner . male . a grim reaper possessed by a demon that feeds on lies. always ready for a good gamble at his casino. villainous yet charismatic. quite the possessive man who enjoys taking sadistic measures. dark male aesthetic with twisted grins and manipulation. 

 

. ˚◞꒰ 🍩 verse 9819 ꒱

♡. caramel cheesecake . . . . . . . . alessio agresta arias 

˖ ࣪the serial killer magician . male . the effortlessly charming leader of a crime specialist syndicate. a sort of robin hood and outlaw with a dark male aesthetic. serial killer of several politicians. cunning, witty and justice seeking. evading capture and playing games with the government council like the illuionist he is 

♡. strawberry cupcake . . . . . . . . denara agyros

˖ ࣪the darling sorceress heir . female . a lunar sorceress and heir to a renowned magic family. gothic in aesthetic and a lover of horror. yet soft and optimistic. a tender soul with a dark side. a kind nurse fighting off her jealous nature. burying into her love for thriller writing. 

♡. red velvet cookies . . . . . . . . zhào xīyáng

˖ ࣪the grim reaper mercenary boss . male . a collected and deadly quiet mercenary boss grim reaper. frightening with a taste for danger. a mix of oriental and refined white aesthetic. cold in nature and has ever the blunt tongue mixed with dry humour. he shakes hands with the devil to protect his city. 

 

. ˚◞꒰ 🍦 verse 9948v ꒱

♡. kulfi. . . . . . . . rishen herrera

˖ ࣪the necromancer blood cultist . genderfluid amab . a blank cultist with the ability to manipulate blood itself. a composer who writes with the very crimson he sheds. monotone with a dark sense of humour. cursed to glitch into phantom versions of his doppelgangers across the multiverse. a nercomancer with red esque.

♡. mooncakes. . . . . . . . zhào hàoyŭ

˖ ࣪the vengeful phantom . male . a phantom that haunts his world. sadistic and psychotic. careless with the souls he pulls from the afterlife to aid in his brutal massacres. possessive, obsessive and yandere in every way. with a morbid sense of humour and a smile etched on his face at all times. 

 

. ˚◞꒰ 🍰 verse-less ꒱

♡. berry crumble . . . . . . . . jìngyí of the abhorred

˖ ࣪the demon alchemist . male . a demon with a frightful reputation. silent, sadistic and intelligent. best known for his alchemist shop in the dephs of hell. a dark oriental aesthetic with hints of modern. ever as graceful and beautifully macabre. loves to tempt his anger and remind others why he rose through hell's ranks.

♡. kourabiethes . . . . . . . . valerius ariti

˖ ࣪the hex demon lord . male . a serene demon lord who casts hexes through the multiverse. indifferent and ever ready to accept a deal so that he might play around with a mortal. regal and strewn in gold. divine to the point some consider him a god. refined and charming despite his brutal nature and vanity. 

♡. cherry custard tart . . . . . . . . orion

˖ ࣪the abyssal angel general . male . a silent and poetic angel who ranks as a general. known for his watchful eye over the abyss. cold in exterior and a strategic warrior. yet beyond caring with those he holds dear. a wise soul who can be a bit of a trickster at times.