#hedone writes

[sugar-and-pearls]

“Don't play with me about my sister"

A snippet inspired by this For context this is set during the cruel prince. Merope and Locke were together before Locke cheated on her with Nicasia and when Locke thinks about playing with @tex-treasures Amanita like he has done with many other girls, Merope decided that the best defensive is a good offensive.

“I wonder what Amanita would taste like under the moonlight”

Locke turns around to look and is caught off guard by Merope suddenly pressing up against him, breasts cushioned against his chest. Arms wrap around him, hands finally settling harshly against his neck as her nails dig into it. A sharp groan of pain escapes him when her nails dig deep enough to draw blood from him.

A low growl brings Locke’s attention to her face.

The polite and friendly mask she wears is off and underneath is a snarling fierce thing, all sharp canines peeking from pink lips. She leans closer, Merope’s nose almost touching his. 

“Don't play with me about my sisters Locke” Amber eyes widen like a deer mid hunt as they stare down into acorn brown. 

“Don't touch my sister, you don't look at my sister - if I even suspect that you are even thinking about my sister I will drag you ironside and hunt your shade though all of Arawn and Hades with the hounds of Hell on your heels till the world stops turning and the moon falls from the sky.” 

She presses a kiss to his lips, soft and chaste as her eyes staring into Locke’s own. Sparkly strawberry lip gloss left on his lips when Merope parted from him, breath fanning and mingling with his. 

“Understood?”

[lucaswarmhotchocolate]

Harry Potter can cook. tbh. He deserves it. Also I headcanon that voldemort has made it so he does not need to sleep or eat much in order to thrive, physically and mentally, but he still eats anything Harry cooks and offers to him. A love language, of sorts.

[theartofperishingslowly]

Pt 2. Of Things my English teacher has said in class:

"Don't just study literature for happiness, but also have some passion and usage: be a hedonistic utilitarian before everything else."

I would've started clapping if the class wasn't so serious.

[annoyingann]

Suddenly, a picture of an upset D at an empty holiday table appeared in my head

So lonely, so unwanted. The space around him seems large, but empty. Locked in this room without a ceiling

I didn't put any conscious symbols in it, but I like to look at this sketch and think from the outside about what the symbols on it mean

I like to think that the lack of a roof is two symbols at once. Literally: "no permanent roof over your head" .. And figuratively, where the roof is the gaze of a deity from above

[crmsnmth]

Headaches

Just take your hands off the wheel let your god figure you out Let nature play it's cards and let your chips fall where they lay It's too short to always be so serious Even if it is a tall order to laugh

Russian roulette for breakfast And some hot shots left for lunch Living recklessly, living dangerously it doesn't work for anyone Isn't that the point of this lifestyle? To live so fast we die?

Living without warning, without rules Natural selection getting a little help I used to want to be immortal and now I'm sometimes begging to prove my morality

I'll sit in your passenger seat if you promise to drive straight into a tree and I know we both have different destinations but you can just drop me anywhere

and I'll blindly walk the crosswalks

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

been thinking about if I had a remote that controlled a sub’s body entirely.

[revearfoly]

Let me pretend the world is funny and forever;

I’m just glad i feel, i exist, i am able to experience life.

[sugar-and-pearls]

"It has been said before that the second Princess Helaena was fond of Lady in waiting. The two were neigh inseparable since girlhood, often found side by side. The list of companion jewellery the two shared are near countless and though Princess Helaena avoided touch from all others she was often seen to link arms with Lady Megette.

A portrait, commission by their husband Jacaerys Velaryon, shows us their normal life. Reportedly a sacred place for Megette, it was customary when in the red keep to find them in the Godswood, under the Weirwood. It depicts the first four children born from their marriage;

Gaemon was the first and only one born to Lady Megette at this time. Nicknamed "Palehair" for his striking white hair, it was said that he had inherited the snow white hair of his Valyrian ancestors. Like his father before him, rumours of bastardry spread among court, stating neither Prince Aemond or Prince Aegon as the boy's father. When told of this, it is reported that all Lady Megette could do was laugh. "I wouldn't like lie with Aemond if he was the last man on earth," Next born were the twins, Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, birthed from the Princess Helaena. Born in the same year as their half brother, no one questioned the parentage of these children, the greens readily proclaimed at court. Like with their brother, a dragon's egg was placed in each child's cradle, and two hatchlings soon came forth. Yet all was not well with these new twins. When born Jaehaera was tiny and she was slow to grow. She did not cry, she did not smile, nor did none of the things that a babe was meant to do. Her twin brother Jaehaerys, whilst larger and more robust, was also less perfect than was expected of a Targaryen princeling, boasting six fingers on his left hand, and six toes upon each foot. Last was the little Prince Maelor, also born from Princess Helaena. It is known that the little prince admired both his elder brothers and soon as he could walk, he began following Gaemon and Jaehaerys around everywhere he went. When not following his brothers, Maelor could often be found with his mother and stepmother, a finely crafted toy beetle in hand as the two woman spoke among themselves. Only time would tell of the great deeds and events these Targaryens would have a hand in and the way fates would twine them in. But for now, they are but children, running around in a Godswoods playing at being dragons.

-An excerpt from 'Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros' by Archmaester Gyldayn

Art was done by the fabulous @viviartsy. They were very kind to me when I couldn't decide what I wanted to commission and talked me through my ideas. I know this was a difficult challenge for her and I am so grateful that she decided to take this on. I would highly recommend checking out her stuff if you are interested, her na'vi art is the die for.

[safyresky]

Warm Milk

(remember this poll? I sure did! This is the original shit I was talking about! Takes place a couple of hundreds of years after the events of Crystal Springs, Into the Shadows, etc. Some context: The dimensions between planes are thinning. Rosehaven is seeping into the living world, magibeans long dead returning to the world of the living—but for what purpose? Not even they know...)

(enjoy!)

___

Bianca padded down the stairs quietly. Eyes attuned to the dark, she trailed her fingers along the side table in the hall, gazing at the photos dotted about. Even in the lowlight, she could see how happy her daughter was in the photos she was in (laughing with Blaise, a little Jacqueline grinning in the bottom right, pointing; face pressed against those of the twins, the three of them grinning). And the ones she wasn't in (one of the twins stacked on one another, running down a beach; a candid shot of father and son caught up in a moment of laughter), Bianca could feel the love radiating from the photos.

She smiled to herself, continuing quietly down the hall. Every single bone and muscle creaked as she walked.

Bianca sighed, rubbing her lower back. I never thought I'd say this, but I do miss being dead, she thought to herself.

In Rosehaven, you didn't feel all the creaks of your bones and muscle pains and such. You felt fine. Safe. Okay. As young as you ever felt. As spry as Winter (senior) had been, despite looking as old as Bianca felt. Your body is there with you but it doesn’t age or degrade. You’re right as a flurry.

But back on this plane of existence…you felt it all and then some.

She sighed, turning into the kitchen. A light glowed above the sink. The dishes sat drying in the rack. A window was open, the sound of the wind rushing through the evergreen boroughs comforting. It was no mountain, but it was lovely regardless. It would do.

Quietly, she slid across the kitchen, pouring a glass of milk and staring at the contraption that supposedly warmed things with the click of a button. She squinted at it, rubbing her chin.

Perhaps she should wake her son-in-law? Or the grandkids? That is, the fiery ones, of course. It would be far easier for her to have them hold it for a moment rather than make the ruckus the. Contraption. Was sure to make.

She found the button to open the door. It went in with a deep crunch, the door swinging open with a loud bang that reverberated through the thing.

"Oh dear."

Straining her ears, she listened closely, hoping she hadn’t woken anyone.

Snores from upstairs. The wind. A soft voice? Murmuring?

Her ear twitched. She turned slightly, towards the right.

Her eyes readjusted. The table was empty; backyard door locked. The screen door, that is. The heavy door had been pulled all the way back, letting in the cold winter air. It smelt like the mountains.

Bianca made her way over, relishing in the breeze for a moment.

The voice was clearer now. She peeked outside; nothing and no one. Eyes travelling across the table, she peered into the cozy den.

A light was on.

Her ear twitched.

"AND he let me use his HAMMER MOMMA! The HAMMER!" said a delightful voice. Just hearing it made Bianca feel such joy. She crept closer to the den, head tilted towards the sounds.

"The HAMMER?!"

It was Jacqueline who was speaking now. Excited with a hint of panic. A tone Bianca found herself recognizing easily enough.

"YEAH! Hephaestus says I'm gonna make my own bow in NO TIME!"

"That's wonderful, sweetie!" Jacqueline replied, the smile in her voice loud.

"She's been taking to the change very well," a third voice said. Smooth and chipper, a hint of tired—but not quite. Hearing this voice made Bianca think of her Winter, wherever he may be.

Her heart panged.

"That's good! I'm glad," Jacqueline sounded relieved. "I'm really sorry about all this, love."

"It's okay! I'm just glad you're safe! We understand, don’t we, Joy?"

"Yeah! Safety is important! I learnt that today too," the child’s voice grew quiet, sounding proper chided.

"Did you now?"

"…yeah. I accidentally hit Hermes with a few arrows. He was a real good sport about it but I felt very bad and then Mater gave me the safety talk."

"We really should have done it sooner," the third voice spoke again.

"But! Better now than later, after she finds the lightning bolts! She was giving them the eyes earlier today."

Mater. Bianca ran the word through her mind. Greek, if she wasn't mistaken. For mother.

Jacqueline threw a hand up to her mouth, trying to mask her laughter. “Oh dear.”

This is wrong, Bianca, she thought to herself. Stepping back (having made her way to the arched entrance, lurking in the shadows), she walked towards the kitchen entrance, clearing her throat before reaching the den entrance again and knocking on the sideboard.

"Jacqueline?" she asked, peeking into the room.

He granddaughter shot up, pillows flying. "Oh! Hi Bianca. Everything okay?"

"I fear I've run into a problem. The contraption that heats things up? The little one."

"The microwave?"

She nodded. "How do you use it?"

"I'll be right with you. Just give me one sec!"

"Certainly. I'll wait in the kitchen." Bowing her head, Bianca backed up, keeping to the shadows between the two entrances.

The sprite curled back up, bringing the phone right up to her nose. The little display glowed, casting a dim light onto her face. The snow was gone from her hair, Bianca noted.

"Is that her?"

"Yeah. Technology problem."

There was a delightful giggle. "Off you go to save the day! My hero. I miss you.”

"We both do, Momma!”

Jacqueline smiled. “Awh. I miss you guys too.”

“I knew it!”

The loving voice laughed. “Alrighty, Joy. Say bye to Momma. She’s got a something cold to save.”

Jacqueline laughed. “It looked like it was a glass of milk.”

“She’s got a glass of cold milk to save!”

"Okay! I love you Momma!" the child's voice was filled with so much joy, Bianca could not keep back the smile that had snuck onto her face. It was hurting her cheeks. "I miss you! I hope I get to see you soon. I got a sword lesson and I wanna make one with you."

"Awwh, Joy! That's so sweet! I'll brush up on the blacksmithing just for you, okay?"

"Okay! I love you! KISSES! MWAH!"

"KISSES! MWAH! I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay! Bye Momma."

“Right, off you go! Go bug your grandad for a bit.”

“O-kay! Wee!”

Jacqueline laughed, watching the child run off, Bianca presumed. She pushed her hair off her brow, snuggling into the couch cushion. "She's doing okay?"

"She’s thriving! And wreaking so much havoc. That’s why we’re on Olympus now. Jupiter had enough so we’re hanging out with my mater’s side. Oh, Jacqueline, you’d be so proud! I know I am. She’s a hit over here!”

“Good! Good. I’m...glad.” Jacqueline’s smile dropped. She sighed, mussing her hair once more. “I’m so sorry about all this, Donnie.”

"Awh, babe, it's okay! You’re trying to keep us safe. We understand."

"I'll try to swing by tomorrow? If that's okay."

"Uh, duh! You're my WIFE! Why wouldn’t that be okay? I love you. I always want to see you.”

"And I you," Jacqueline smiled. "I'll see you soon, brown eyes."

"Not if I see you first, blue eyes."

Bianca tuned out, giving them space. Moments later, the blankets rustled.

"I know you’re still there, Bianca.”

Bianca felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She turned the corner sheepishly. “Sorry dear.”

Jacqueline smiled, leaning her head on the couch. "S’okay.” She pat the spot beside her with a slippered foot. “Come sit!"

Bianca obliged, sinking onto the couch. Her muscles thanked her. She sighed, falling back into the cushions.

"I miss being dead.”

"You WHAT?"

"Oh, sorry, Jacqueline. Sit back! I don’t mean it in a way that's concerning. I just…forgot how old and stiff my body was. I miss not feeling every single muscle every time I move."

"And warm milk helps with that?"

"Hmm? Oh!" she looked down at her glass of not warm milk. "Yes and no. It doesn't help my muscles. It helps my heart, though. Your grandfather said it was the cure for any ailment," she smiled fondly. "Lately I've been finding comfort in a warm glass of milk. It makes me think of him. But alas, your father went to bed before I could catch him and Lady only knows what would happen were I to wake your siblings."

"When they were younger, disasters! But now that they're older, they sleep like logs, for the most part. Just waking them up would be an impressive feat on its own!”

Bianca chuckled.

"You miss him, huh?"

"I do. And I worry for him," she admitted, bringing a fist up to her heart. "I don’t know where he is, or what he's doing. I know he's on this plane. But I can't…find him. And it hurts. Everything hurts. He'd love to see this. Knowing that your mother made a lovely life for herself? He'd be delighted! She found a love as true as ours," Bianca smiled down at her hands. "That's all we ever wanted for her. And I was so terrible! Afflicting you with the shard and sending you halfway across the world. Stealing her away from her family to try and bring back mine…and even after everything, you've all welcomed me here."

"Bianca. I gotta be real with you. In terms of blood relatives coming back from the far past? You're not the craziest we've seen."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Uncle Pyros is like, fifty shades of messed up. That guy is WHACK. But don’t tell dad I said that."

"Your secret is safe with me." Bianca sighed. "Those poor boys. I always hated being called to court. They never looked happy. Serafina was so strict; and Canicus was just as bad in other ways. I kept telling your grandfather, I said, you know, Winter, we could just snatch them up and take them home! And he'd say, he'd say, Bianca, we have our hands full with one, don't you think? Best not bring back old habits." she laughed. "We didn't, really. Your mother was a very calm child. Well. She was a child when we left; I've no idea how she was in later years, or for the rest of childhood."

Looking off into the distance, Bianca sighed.

"Well…from what I've heard, she's where we get most of our unhinged ideas from. The most chaotic of all the seasons as a kid. Still is to this day, if you ask my aunts."

"Oh, how delightful!" Bianca leaned back into the cushions, a soft smile on her face. "It's nice to see them both happy together. Your parents, that is."

"Makes you miss your hubby, huh?"

"We never did tie the knot, but yes! It does. Deeply. Achingly so, even.”

"I get it," Jacqueline wiggled against the couch, getting cozier. "I miss my wife."

That fond, loving smile was back on her face; so small and yet, filled with so much emotion.

"We did actually tie the knot. I mean, we were already referring to one another like that so we went, you know what? Frost it! May as well make it official! And then we did!" She shrugged. "The proposal went a little awry, but the wedding was nice! Especially since we found out we had a KID beforehand! Can you believe that? A whole entire KID. She was totally unplanned and I love her so much.”

“Oh, and I took you away from them, didn't I?"

Jacqueline nodded. "And I couldn't even remember them, because, you know, your mirror does that fun thing where it only makes you think of bad and sad thoughts? They were so fuzzy.”

Jacqueline smiled. "Magical objects just bring out the worst in people."

"I'm so sorry, Jacqueline. Really. I would never want to take anyone away from their families. That was a pain I'll never forget. Pain enough that it drove me to do that to you and your mother when I was shard-ed, just to try and restore my own."

"Indeed."

"Why do you even HAVE that mirror?"

"Cursed artifact that came into my possession when I was young. It splinters often, and the splinters get caught up all over the place, making people see only terrible, awful things. I used it in my younger years to do some truly bad things. Much younger, of course; I haven't been that bad since meeting your grandfather. I was glad it had come with me to Rosehaven. It wouldn't cause trouble ever again, I thought.” She chuckled coldly. “I thought wrong. Seems that was the worst place for it."

She opened her hands. The mirror appeared in them, empty but for two shards.

She sighed.

A warm hand landed on her knee. Bianca looked up.

Jacqueline was smiling at her, softly. Reassuringly. "We'll find him, and we'll find the shards.” She gave her knee a little squeeze. “I know you miss him. I miss my partner in crime, too! And I know you missed mom.”

"I'm glad to get to know her again. Odd to say but. Well."

"I kinda get it." Jacqueline pulled herself up a smidgen, phone clutched close to her chest. "Donnie and I had no idea Joy existed for about three years. She was born from the joy we both felt being reunited again after the proposal. I missed her baby years! Had no idea what she was like until recently."

"Hmm. I feel we have a lot more in common than just looks," Bianca mused.

"Indeed," Jacqueline replied, in an almost dead-on impersonation of Bianca's own accent.

She laughed. "I'm sorry I took you away from your wife and child. And still am, evidently."

Jacqueline shrugged. "This whole Rosehaven thing is weird. Scary, too. And after everything that happened to me? I don’t want to risk Joy. Or Donnie. She can handle herself of course, but I love her! I don’t want to see her get hurt. That's why I didn't mention them. I wasn't sure if you were…"

"Safe."

"Yeah.

"Wise. My reputation is. Quite terrible, really. Especially with children."

"Yeah, maybe gramps was onto something when he said not to bring back old habits."

Bianca laughed, looking at her granddaughter with a fond smile. "I'm glad you've found love, too."

Jacqueline scooched over the pillows, leaning up against Bianca. She put her phone in front of them, the screen blinking to life to reveal a photo.

There was a very tall, very strong woman. She was blonde, her hair tied up, laurels wrapped in the strands. She was beautiful. Jacqueline stood beside her. And between them, a small child, a tad darker than Jacqueline and a tad lighter than the woman. She grinned, a tooth missing, her strawberry blonde (emphasis on the strawberry) hair pulled up as well, falling right out of the scrunchie. Behind them was a big, feathery wing; and behind the girl was a smaller set of wings, looking more like butterflies than birds.

"That's the love of my life, Donnie. It’s short for Hedone."

"Hedone. That’s the Greek Pantheon…Goddess of…pleasure?"

Jacqueline flushed, nodding.

Bianca smiled. "And that's your little girl?"

"Joy. Embodiment of Joy. She's everything to me, goddess of the springs. The moment I met her, I was like, damn. I'd do ANYTHING for this kid. ANYTHING."

"I felt the same when your mother was born."

"Was she like, sick, or something?"

"Sick?"

"It's just," Jacqueline shifted, facing her grandmother with a look of placid curiosity. "I've heard that when she was born, there was something wrong? Or off, or something. I’ve only heard it offhand oh, once or twice. Nobody's ever explained it to me, and Mom doesn't even remember. So. I figured, you know, who better to ask than the person who birthed her, right?"

"Ah. Well, she wasn't sick. She was a miracle baby, though. See, I'd always wanted kids of my own. But I'd never managed to settle down with someone and have them."

"So you stole them instead?"

"Yes. And I used the mirror to do so. It's an ugly thing; it fell into my possession when I was quite young. It takes the beauty and love out of everything and makes you see only the bad. As you are, regrettably, well aware."

"You as well."

Bianca hummed. "When I finally did succeed, and the little boy's little friend came and found him, and saved him, I managed to cry the shard out of my eyes. And that's how Queen Frost found me. A pathetic, weeping mess in the highest reaches of the Nordic countries. She told me that I would find what I needed here in Crystal Springs; that it would heal the hurt. That I'd be safe. And…I was. But the hurt never left. See, the shard in my heart stayed put. And whenever a child would come near my domain, I'd keep them as long as I could, just to try and thaw my icy little heart."

"Oh. That's…how am I both heartbroken and appalled?"

"I am a woman of many talents, it would seem.” Bianca laughed, the laughter trailing off with a small exhale. “It's messy, I know. And it got messier still. Nothing worked. I was devastated; stayed up in the mountains with my storms and my lands and all that nonsense. I was there for eons…until your Grandfather entered my life."

Jacqueline watched as Bianca softened, her face lighting up. The mirror seemed to shudder; it did not like where her memories were going. It disappeared as she looked away, awash in them.

"Was it love at first sight?"

"Ha! No. I thought him annoying and irritating and all but blew him right off my mountain. But he was like one of your brother's stray animals. He just kept coming right back! One day, I found myself not blowing him off the mountain. And then I looked forward to his visits. And then I told him about the mirror and everything and he helped me gather the pieces and seal it away. And we fell in love, and one thing led to another and we found ourselves expecting. In the traditional way. By ordibeing standards, of course."

"Oh! So Mom was the first sprite to be born instead of made?"

"Yes, and no. It was the first any pair of sprites had managed to conceive a child on purpose. Emphasis on the on purpose. The only example they had to go off of was Fate-touched, so they had no idea how reliable that experience would be compared to this one.”

“That experience being?”

“The Twin Princes.”

“Oh! I didn’t know that! I just assumed they were made the way all sprites used to be made, you know?”

“The King and Queen tried, of course. Fate prevented it from happening like that. But it worked the other way.” Bianca shrugged. “Serafina was a rather clever warlock. She knew exactly what needed doing for a safe delivery and all, and got it done well before they were born. But your grandfather and I...”

“Would’ve had no idea, since it’s not like the monarchy shared these sorts of things. And given how sprites were made, it was probably to them like, one and done kinda deal, I’d bet. They assumed it would never happen like that again.”

“Ha! And your grandfather and I went and proved them wrong. They’d have hated that! They probably did.” She grinned. “At any rate, given the circumstances, healers monitored us closely; we didn't know what to expect. A sprite had never been formed like that naturally, you know. Lady only knew what would happen. But I tried very hard not to think about that. I focused on when I could feel her move about, and making a nursery, you know. All those things you do when you're expecting."

"I don’t know if I'd know that! We uh. We were NOT expecting at ALL when Joy showed up, dragging Jack Frostbitten Frost himself and Venus, goddess of frostbitten love, behind her, the three of them being pursued by the personifications of Despair and Sadness."

"Oh my."

"I know! I'd have loved to paint a nursery or have that whole build up to her arrival, but it was very sudden and violent.” She looked sheepish for a moment, running her hand through her hair and looking away. “I was very violent."

"Momma bear energy, yes?"

"Oh, big time. The moment Jack told me who she was and it all clicked and that connection was there, I just. I lost it. She's the personification of Joy, Bianca. Despair and Sadness wanted to consume her essence in the hopes that they'd feel something other than what they are."

"Oh. So you had a breakdown."

"Huge. I went feral. And in the end, as seems to be the case with this family, it was a hug that did it; Joy defeated Sadness and Despair with a hug."

"What an impressive child."

"She's so impressive. And she did that as a three-year-old. Which is HELLA impressive by sprite standards. Though she didn't quite age like a sprite? She is now, but she was aging like a human almost until she hit six. Regular six. Not six hundred."

"How old is she now?"

"Almost one hundred! I'm kinda relieved she seems to be taking after the celestial side more than the sprite side. I'm not sure I'm prepared for a century of trying to help her keep shape, followed IMMEDIATELY by a century of her keeping shape AND being a terror about it."

Bianca laughed. "The terrible two-hundreds."

"Mm. Mom and Dad say all four of us were pretty brutal, so I'm sure my kids will be no different. Sorry, I got so off topic. We were talking about Mom!"

"And then went into moms territory. Not off topic at all, sweetheart."

"But I wanna hear the rest of the story!"

Bianca laughed. "All right, all right. You don’t need to lose shape about it."

Jacqueline pulled a face. She lifted a hand, the entire thing AND her arm suddenly turning into snow as she tilted her head, crossed her eyes and went "BLARGH!"

Bianca wheezed. "Okay! I'm going! Pull yourself together, young lady!"

Cackling, Jacqueline's arm solidified. She curled up, snuggling back into the couch. "Okay. I'm behaving."

"You know, I don’t think you ever have."

"That's because you've been talking to Jack too much. He likes to play it up like I was the most troublesome thing around, but he definitely made it ten times worse."

"Now that I believe."

She giggled, her small smile reminding Bianca very much of a time when Winter was a child. A time well before The Call, before the repeat of her past mistakes, and before she was cast from Rosehaven for Lady knows WHAT reason.

"Bianca? You okay?"

She cleared her throat. Swallowed the emotion. Nodded. "As fine as can be, all things considered."

"We can stop if it's too much. I didn't mean to press."

"Oh! No. It's quite all right. Big feelings are big feelings. It's best we experience them. Least we steal children about it."

Jacqueline giggled.

"Where did I leave off?"

"Nursery. Prep work. That sorta thing."

"Right. Well…the time came, eventually. She was ready to arrive. And arrive she did. As a pile of snow and ice. Baby shaped, but lifeless. I…I sobbed. I sobbed, and sobbed, Jacqueline. I was beside myself. I refused to let her go, and your grandfather, bless his soul, stood by my side the entire time, and did not try to take her away from me. He did his own research; called Mother Gaia and her daughter, Tara. They came by and brought with them a life light. The thing you are given as a freshly made sprite to give yourself a form. They gave it to us, and it turned white as snow, and your grandfather and I placed it within Winter and she came to life, with the loudest cries. Oh, I was so, so relieved."

"She was brought to life. That was the miracle."

Bianca nodded. "And she was full of life. Very silly, a little goofball just like her father. And devastatingly savage when needed, just like her mother. She was smart and keen and we loved her to bits! It broke my heart, what we did. To think, fighting to keep our home safe for our daughter ended up with us losing her. And now I have that chance again, to know her, to love her…but it's been thousands of years. Thousands. Tara is far more her mother than I ever was. And my darling Winter Warlock isn't here to see any of it." Eyes downcast, Bianca looked at the cold glass of milk in her hands and sighed.

"Oh, here! Let me get that for you."

"No need, Jacqueline dear. I've got it."

Both winter sprites jumped a bit as Winter herself stepped through the archway, cloak draped over her arms. She placed it gently on the egg chair by the entrance, wiping something off of her cheek and cleared her throat. "Here. I can take it. I'll show you how the microwave works."

"Oh, it's quite all right, dear. I'm not even sure I really want it anymore—"

"Yes you do," both women said, in unison, in the same tone of voice. They looked at one another, giggling a little bit.

"You miss your boo thang, Bianca! Of course you'd want to indulge in something that makes you think of him!"

"I wouldn't argue with her," Winter agreed, gently taking the glass of milk out of Bianca's hands. "She's married to Cupid's successor. And has been having many sweets for the exact same reason you find yourself craving a warm glass of milk."

"Ah. I'm out numbered, it appears."

"And outwitted! Come on, up you go. Here." Winter offered her an arm. Bianca took it with a grateful look, gently prying herself out of the cushions. "Let's get those limbs of yours all warmed up."

___

Bianca let her daughter lead her into the kitchen. She tried not to lean on her too terribly much, but the support was…nice. They made their way to the microwave, stopping in front of it.

"The big button here opens it." Winter clicked it; there was a crunch and a low thrum and the door popped open again, the little light flickering on. "Just place the glass inside and click start a handful of times."

"A handful?"

"The number keys are preset. The one warms it for one minute, the two for two, and so on and so forth. The start button does thirty seconds which is usually all I need. Though I will admit, I don’t often use this thing. Usually I bring it to Blaise."

Bianca smiled. "I'd do the same, were I you. I briefly thought about it, actually, but didn’t want to wake him. He seems so stressed about this all…and the younger two? Goddess above. I daresay whatever would happen after waking them would be enough to send us all back to Rosehaven."

Winter laughed. "Fino and Fiera certainly are characters. They were worse in their younger years. I'm inclined to say they've mellowed out at sixteen hundred, but I'm not entirely sure I believe that. I don't think any of the four of them are capable of mellowing out, if I'm being honest."

Bianca chuckled quietly, gently closing the microwave door shut and tapping the start button three times. The noise it made nearly shook her bones; her jaw was most certainly knocking about.

"Dear me."

"Yes, it's a little loud. And a little too fancy for my tastes. But Jack was very excited about it, as was Blaise. I figured I may as well let them have their fun."

Bianca smiled.

Winter smiled back.

The microwave hummed behind them as the silence pressed on. Comfortable, but with something unspoken lingering between them as the microwave continued to tick down the seconds.

"How long were you—"

Bianca did not get to finish her sentence. The words were cut very suddenly as Winter wrapped her arms around her torso and pulled her in, squishing her very, very tightly.

"Long enough," she said, muffled against Bianca's chest. "I'm sorry."

"No." Bianca wrapped her arms around her daughter, cupping the back of her head and tilting it towards her, kissing the very top of it. "I am."

"Goddess above, that sounded so awful, I—" Winter lifted her head, looking up at her mother. "I couldn't even imagine any of that happening to me and my kids. I'd be beside myself."

"I was. And still am. And even though this situation is so messed up…perhaps it’s selfish of me, but I'm glad. I'm glad to see you living, thriving—" she smiled, wiping the tears off of Winter's face with both her thumbs. "It's all we ever wanted for you."

"I'd be devastated if it were me, and Blaise wasn't by my side to see everything the kids have done."

Bianca's grip tightened. She laughed. "It hurts, yes. Oh, I love him so much. He was my everything. Is my everything. I—"

"WAIT, HOLD ON. GRANNY BEE."

Her breath hitched as Jacqueline came sliding out the den, phone in her hand, looking frantic in an excited way. She'd called Bianca Granny!

"Jacqueline, careful!" Winter let go of her mother and reached out, grabbing Jacqueline before she could fall forward. "You know the kitchen is slippery in those socks of yours."

"I know, I know! But I just! Granny Bee." She caught her breath. "Hey. Hi. Woah. You okay?"

She sniffled, wiping away tears. "YES. GRANNY BEE IS JUST FINE."

Winter and Jacqueline shared a look. "O-kay…listen. I got an idea. I just need to ask you a few questions."

"Sure. Sure. Certainly." Another sniffle. The microwave beeped. "How can I help?"

Winter opened the microwave, passing Bianca the warmed milk. She nodded her thanks, taking a sip as Jacqueline started explaining.

"My wife. She's Cupid. Well, next in line to be Cupid. Right. Anyway, uh, because of that, she's really good at love stuff??? So HERE'S the THING. Would you say that the Winter Warlock is the—"

"Love of my life? My soulmate in all senses of the word? Partner in crime? My person?"

Jacqueline blinked. "Yes."

"Yes. Oh, absolutely, yes. That man. He's. I just—" her fingers tightened on her glass as she tried and failed to find the words to describe their love.

But for Jacqueline, apparently, that was enough.

She grinned, feral, whipping up her phone. "I knew it. Okay, so, I have this crazy idea. I think I know how to find him."

"What?"

"You do?"

"Yeah!" She put the phone up to her ear. "If you're okay with it, Mom. I know things have been kinda tough? I don't want to throw the other parent at you when you and Granny B are still working sleet out."

"Oh! Yes! Of course! If you're comfortable with it, Winter dear."

Winter's brow furrowed as she thought about it for a moment. "Well. I think before I know how I feel about that, we'd have to see if we even can find him first. And then, given the state you were in, Bianca…what state he's in."

"And if he has a shard in his eye, or worse, his heart…I shudder to think what part he'd be playing in this mess."

"Oh?"

Bianca nodded. "He was a brilliant warlock! Is a brilliant warlock. His mind…I believe Fiera would call him a giant nerd. Given that, and how he was like back before he met me, before he met Kris, even…I both hope and fear that he knows more about what is going on than all of us."

"Then we better go frostbitten find him, eh? How do we feel about a ladies trip to Mount Olympus…"

[pen-of-roses]

Longing

(TW: Implied suicidal ideation, potential self-harm, blood, references to death and being buried alive. It's a kinda heavy one)

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial, I present Conor having angst:

This was not the type of place he ever lingered, if he had ever even visited. The very ground itself forbidden to him and him alone.

That was perhaps, not the truth, given that others, though few, shared his condition similarly enough, and it wasn’t as though it burned his very skin. But it took hold of something in his chest, wrapping it’s dark painful claws around that thing, and threatened to rip and tear until there was nothing left. And he had such little will to stop it.

That grip was not pity, nor grief. At least not for them.

It was not forbidden in the sense he could not touch it, because oh, had he so many times before. But he could not keep it, and it refused to keep him.

He was frozen, staring out over the rows and rows and rows of field and grass. Stones, statues, and simple markers some could only just afford stared back at him. Taunted him. 

We offer rest. We offer peace. We hold memories and proof that they were loved and someone cared enough to place us here.

His fingers dug into cold, smooth stone, sapping away his blood’s warmth only slightly, until it cut and brought it hot to the surface.

You still bleed, and you still live. And you will forever.

Perhaps he should be grateful for them. They were, after all, evidence that the dead were not immediately burned or discarded or carved up or worse, sent to the waves, here. As such, he would only have to dig through the dirt to freedom if something went wrong. Wouldn’t be the first time. Though those were often unmarked.

A group huddled around one now, a gaping dark hole in the otherwise well cared for ground. Or so he could imagine without being able to see through the bodies this far away, though not far enough for their cries to die in the wind before him. 

Mourners.

On some shards people were assigned to if no one was there for the dead. 

This groups’ grief was loud with many voices though, pressed tight together. 

His teeth ground together and his jaw ached.

Lucky.

Perhaps he did have one out there somewhere. Perhaps someone who had seen him fall or heard somehow, but couldn’t find a body, added his name to one of the simple wooden stakes. Perhaps it was enough that they shed a single tear over it too. Perhaps they had even given him a last name.

But if anyone had, it would have been long lost to time.

Like he should’ve been.

If anyone had, it was a pointless gesture anyway. Proof they hadn’t known him long enough to understand. And all that would be left to show for it was a meaningless empty grave for one who could never fill it.

[hailomadius]

Me trying to explain to my vaguely religious mother that Dionysus and Jesus may actually be two aspects of the same diety

[it-happened-once-in-a-meme]

Incorrect The Picture of Dorian Gray Quote

Some random person: Do you gentlemen have any personal philosophical beliefs?

Dorian Gray: Screw around and find out.

Henry Wotton: Hedonism.

Basil Hallward: Existentialcrisis-ism.

Henry: That's not how you-you know what, I change mine to existential criticism.

Source: Me, I'm so proud 😭

[kangofu-cb]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Batman - All Media Types, Marvel 616, DCU (Comics), Avengers (Comics) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Clint Barton/Jason Todd Additional Tags: Edgeplay, Under-negotiated Kink, Overstimulation, Crymaxing, Dom!Jason, willing participant Bucky, not really subby enough Clint, but they work him up to it, Multiple Orgasms, Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Spitroasting, Rimming, Bondage, look there's a lot going on here okay, I think I hit the highlights Summary:

“You said anything I wanted,” Jason reminded him, “and now I’ve got several very good hours of your undivided attention to work with.”

  Clint swallowed convulsively, but then his chin came up. “Bring it,” he taunted.

  “Shouldn’ta said that,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for all of them to hear.

  Jason raised one eyebrow.

  “Actually –” Clint started, but Jason raised the other eyebrow expectantly and his jaw snapped shut.

  “No apology?” Jason asked.

  Clint’s mouth stayed stubbornly shut.

  “No ‘I’m sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have kidnapped you’?”

  “I’m sorry, baby, I shouldn’t have kidnapped you,” Clint said, slightly petulant.

  “Hmm.” Jason pretended to think about it. “What about Bucky? No ‘I’m sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have hit you with my car’?”

  “I’m sorry, honey, I shouldn’t have hit you with my car,” Clint parrotted flatly.

 The plotless, sexy follow-up to Clara's WHH October ficlet.

[meerawrites]

Songs and Ships Tag

Rules: write about two to five songs from them that represent your a ship between your characters (it can be platonic or romantic or a secret third thing). then add a quote from said WIP (if possible!) underneath it.

WIP: now editing - Ghosts x Hedonism.

Tagged by: I do not remember I am sorry!

Tagging: @the-bar-sinister, @revenantlore, @malicious-compliance-esq and @musicboxmemories (if you want!)

Opheliac by Emilie Autumn (Sibyl Vane/Dorian Gray - most of the novel).

I'm your Opheliac My stocking prove my virtues I'm open to attack But I don't want to hurt you Whether I swim or sink That's no concern of yours now....

Lose Your Soul by Dead Man's Bones (Dorian Gray to Dorian Gray's monstrous portrait)

you're gonna lose control, tonight, tonight, tonight. i get up to this feeling, keeps me on the run. i get up in the morning, put my dreams away, i get up, i get up, i get up again.

[mashmouths]

they should invent a my brain that can complete assignments