#i feel like I should have magically divined his presence

[perfectlyoongi]

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who spends summer days at a lake with you. the tranquility of nature was enough to make Taehyung feel completely relaxed. adding you as company only improved his entire experience. when the days started to get longer and the heat was suffocating, Taehyung would always ask if you wanted to forget the world. “let’s run away,” he used to say. “let’s run away and forget all our responsibilities. just me and you. away from everything that holds us back and hurts us.” and you accepted, you always accepted. partly, you accepted it because you knew it would make Taehyung happy – that was what you had agreed upon; but there was also a part of you that accepted it because you knew that those days, away from everything that distressed and hurt you, were the closest you would get to heaven.

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who takes you to balls all over the world. Taehyung was a devoted fan of that mystical magic that surrounds fairy tales. there was something in that divine hope that held Taehyung and made him want to dream. as such, he just wanted to try to recreate the enchantment he felt whenever he heard or read a more fanciful story – and the best way to reproduce all that magic was by going to small, beautiful dances. Taehyung didn’t care about dates or places or themes – it was all irrelevant. all he wanted was to know what time he should pick you up so you could spend an endless night in each other’s arms. of course, having already experienced a considerable number of dances Taehyung had a favorite: on the warmest spring nights, when the birds began to learn the symphony of joy and all the stars created sketches of enchanted stories, Taehyung liked giving himself to you. always keeping you close to him, holding your waist as if the secrets of the cosmos were in his hands, looking at you with the radiance stolen from the most romantic gods, Taehyung liked those spring dances, for it was in them that all the celestial magic covered you in a tenuous cloak of dreams. “there will be a masquerade ball this summer. do you want to go with me? we can have clothes made to match your favorite color.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who asks you to sleep there more often than he should. yes, Taehyung knew you had a meeting early tomorrow. he also knew that all your clothes were in your house. and yes, it was obvious he knew you couldn’t sleep comfortably without your pillow. but, did you know? did you know how much your presence calmed Taehyung? did you know how your words were the only ones that could lull Taehyung into a deep sleep? did you know that without you Taehyung simply couldn’t have a good night? so if you knew, why don’t you just stay there with him? in his bed? being wrapped in his nervous arms as he whispered to you how grateful he was that you made this effort for him – why did you want to abandon him? “just tonight, please. i’ll take you to work tomorrow and you can sleep with me a little longer. it won’t do you any harm. you know how much i enjoy being here with you.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who can get you into any event. Taehyung didn’t know the meaning of the word ‘impossible’ when it was about you. you were a special person, someone who had a certain charm and was capable of molding the entire universe in your image if you wanted it – Taehyung just had to pamper you. you being the owner of all the celestial dust that enchanted the world and made Taehyung a real person, only made he use his influence as his thanks. fashion shows, autograph sessions, gallery openings, anything you wanted – Taehyung knew you better than anyone, he knew where you liked to go, what you liked to do. always accompanying you, getting lost in your wide smile and the way your eyes sparkled when you saw something you really liked, Taehyung took you to experience the world; there was no experience that left you curious, there was nothing forbidden for you. everything you wanted was yours long before you asked for it. “don’t hide anything from me. all i want is to keep you happy in this relationship. and if i have the possibility of increasing this happiness, just tell me. it’s everything to me. you are everything to me.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who gives you a black card to spend on your birthday. on every birthday of yours you woke up with a bouquet of flowers and an envelope addressed to you – Taehyung did everything he could to make sure the first thing you saw on your birthday was that little gift from him, so you could try to understand how much you meant to him. the flowers you received were always the same, your favorites in your favorite colors, wrapped in paper sprayed with Taehyung’s perfume; the envelope, however, the envelope was the real gift. a small, white card came signed in Taehyung’s handwriting and next to it was Taehyung’s black card. on that day of yours, not as different as the others, but more special to you, Taehyung would give you the opportunity to go shopping alone or with your friends and spend as much as you could. it was always the same gift, always the same card, always the same ritual – but for you, it was everything. “happy birthday, darling. have fun during the day, and don’t forget that this night you are mine. xx”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who likes it when you wear the clothes and jewelry he gave you when you’re not with him. Taehyung liked to give you gifts; it was always charming to see your curious eyes opening the bags or boxes, your smile painting Taehyung’s dreams. as such, Taehyung offered you everything: shoes, coats, necklaces, even the groceries for your home – anything that could be bought could very well be offered to you. but of everything he gives you, of seeing you happy with so many things, he would have to confess that when you went out to have fun or relax and use something he offered, Taehyung’s heart smiled a little more. it may seem strange, maybe even childish, but when Taehyung knew that you were walking around the city showing off the clothes and necklaces he had given you at the beginning of your relationship, he felt closer to you, you felt closer to him. seeing you in those clothes when you didn’t have anything planned with him made Taehyung believe that your relationship could very well turn out to be something more. “i saw your instagram story and i just want to say i’m glad you’re still wearing those boots. they look good on you. you look good with everything, but yea. i called just to tell you that.”

SUGAR-DADDY!TAEHYUNG who kisses you under the eiffel tower. on your longer trips, when neither of you needed to worry about dates and deadlines, Taehyung liked to take you to Paris. it was in the magic of that city that Taehyung hoped your love would blossom. it was in the beauty of that city that Taehyung fell even more in love with you. and it was in the hope of that city that Taehyung declared himself to you again and again and again. under the stars, in the endless nights of aimless stars, Taehyung kissed you. once. and another. and another. and another. he didn’t need to say anything, there was no need for that – Taehyung just had to gently hold your waist for you to understand what he wanted, what he would do. they were tender kisses that covered your heart with security and comfort, small confessions of love that would forever remain embedded in your soul. and only this magic happened in Paris – until he finds the courage to recreate it at home.

[anincompletelist]

[ vol i | vol ii | vol iii | vol iv ]

happy january friends! :D

there have been a crazy number of wonderful fics that I have had time to catch up on this month, and I've saved a few for next month's rec as well!

as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.

this turned out to be a bit of a long one! I hope everyone has had a wonderful start to the new year so far, and happy reading y'all! <3

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it's a kind of magic | Jaistiel | E | 82k

Henry, the man who had asked if Alex's magic hurt him before asking if he used it for evil things. Henry, the man who seemed terrified of his magic, but also held a level of awe and wonder about it. Henry, the man who was likely scared out of his mind to share a tent with someone capable of the things Alex could do, but was offering anyway. "Alex." He watched as Henry's eyes widened with shock, his jaw dropping open just enough for his full lips to form a small, perfect 'o' shape. "If you're asking me to share your tent and your blankets, I guess you should at least know my name."

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you can see it with the lights out | weathersriley | G | 3k

"Alex thinks of the water. Of feeling like he might never reach the surface, might never reach Henry. But Henry is here; Alex remembers falling asleep in the glow of his presence, and beneath his shaking fingers, Henry’s chest is warm and his heart is beating steadily and Henry is here. Alex is afraid, but Henry is here."

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Dream A Little Dream Of Me | @affectionatelyrs | T+ | 9k

They’re no longer in the garden. There’s no grass, no flowers, no fireflies. Only stars—hundreds upon hundreds of them in an otherwise vast sea of darkness, dazzling and twinkling and here. “How—” “They came here for you,” Alex says, his voice light. “It’s what you desired. So, I asked them to come and shine. Just for you.” “But won’t the world need them?” Alex shrugs and simply says, “You need them more.” [Or, Five times Alex visits Henry in his dreams during his dark days, and one time he does so in the real world (and stays)]

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if I do not have (your) love, I am nothing | @read-and-write- | M | 9k

The church says that sin keeps you away from God. Your disobedience is to remain hidden and only admitted during confession. The greater the sin, the greater your penance should be, and God, as the loving God he is, will forgive you. Because God is love, and he’s the greatest expression of it. Love thy neighbor is the greatest mandate of all. Yet, when Alex loves, his love is seen as perverse, impure. The greatest sin he has committed was to fall in love with another man, who has lain by his side during countless nights. But when Alex looks at Henry, he finds nothing reprehensible, nothing unclean. Instead, he finds the truest form of worship held between his arms, trailing fingertips that climb up Henry’s spine as a litany of words spill out from his mouth. A room consecrated by each whisper of God’s name, said so reverently that no one would dare say they have taken His name in vain. [A character study of Alex, religion, divinity and love.]

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sea of endless hope | acastle | E | 65k+

Henry watches Alex, the man he adores and loves so ardently, and the moment is palpable, delicate, and yet too large for even the sky to contain. He watches Alex, and in that moment, he wants to be his husband, the ache and urge of it almost unbearable. “Daddy!” Nena takes Henry’s hands, and he looks down at her, the angel who had saved him, and he smiles at her, quiet with emotion, letting her lead him into place. He would follow her, follow Alex, anywhere. (Henry, Alex, and their daughter, and the first years of coming home, forever.)

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I wake up with your memory over me (and that's a real fucking legacy) | @coffeecatsme | E | 21k

The ski instructor stops in front of him, takes off his goggles, and Henry about stops breathing for another reason. “Hey,” Alexander says with a grin, his face distinctly lacking in wrinkles Henry was expecting from a renowned instructor. There’s a bright grin on his face that rivals the sun, rich brown curls spilling out of a red beanie, and Henry realizes he’s absolutely fucked for a whole other reason than his inability to figure out how to stay upright in skis.  [Or, the one in which Henry is hopeless at skiing despite his family's aspirations, and Mary hires Alex as an instructor to amend that.]

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Praise and Supplication | @nocoastposts | E | 3k

Alex is always moving, always going, always seeking. He is defiance and brashness tinged with anxiety, but not in these moments. Henry pins him down with a gaze as heavy as his touch, and all of Alex’s motions cease. He is calm, he is obedient, he is pliable. He knows he’ll be broken apart piece by piece, sending waves of heat deep into his core. [When Alex gets stuck in his head, Henry helps him let go.]

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Room for Rent (Sex Dungeon Not Included) | @everwitch-magiks | E | 19k

When Alex comes, he only knows two things: that he’s good, and that he’s Henry’s. And that’s all he needs to know. Alex’s housemate has a sex dungeon. It’s pretty much exactly what you’d expect; whips and bondage gear and a chair that looks like something a gynecologist would have use for. Alex, being the chill, sex-positive guy he is, is of course extremely cool with this. Totally normal about it. Enthusiastically supportive, even. But as Alex watches Henry invite a steady stream of men into his dungeon, he develops one tiny little issue with the arrangement: he desperately wants to take their place.

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stolen glances with a string attached | @wordsofhoneydew | T+ | 6k

Henry’s eyes widen, his body tensing up in sheer humiliation. That’s when he sees a sly smirk make its way to the man’s lips, and it only makes the embarrassment course through his body more rapidly, feeling all the blood rush to his cheeks. The man then spins around in his office chair, reaching for what looks to be a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbles on it for a swift moment before pressing the paper up against his office window. The paper reads, “TAKE A PIC,” written in sloppy, bubble-like handwriting just barely legible enough for Henry to read. The man grabs another paper and writes for a moment longer, this time reading, “JK” with a winky face. Henry cocks an inquisitive eyebrow in his direction, the embarrassment slowly morphing into curiosity as the man turns the paper over for Henry to read the other side. “ALEX.” [An AU in which two men fall in love through their office windows]

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two is better than one | @bigassbowlingballhead | E | 8k

“You’ve thought about being with two of me, baby?” Alex teases, “Are you sure you can handle that?” he smirks. “I can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind.” Henry says matter of factly. “Not that it’s even fathomable.” “What if it could be…”

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love left a permanent mark | @hypnostheory | E | 10k

Henry clears his throat and answers again. “I’m a bit nervous. About the needles.” “Thank you for telling me,” Alex says, voice dipping low. Henry wouldn’t move from his spot on the couch if the apartment was on fire. “People aren’t afraid of the needle. They’re afraid of the pain. But you’re not scared of that, right?” [Henry decides to get a tattoo. It comes with more than one kind of aftercare.]

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Grounded In Fact | @england-would-fall | E | 5k

When Georgetown grad student Henry's and Alex's flights home are cancelled for bad weather, they secure the last room at a nearby hotel. Henry Fox, facing the prospect of sharing a bed with his roommate/love of his life/friend he has never confessed his feelings to, enters into an epic state of Gay Panic (tm). Come on in and watch as Henry Who Is Experiencing The Greatest Tragedy Since The Burning Of Alexandria navigates this very real and not at all in-his-head crisis.

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kitchen confidential | @dumbpeachjuice | T+ | 4k

The NDA is approximately a mile long. “Jesus fuck,” Alex splutters. “What, is their favourite film The Menu or something? Am I gonna come out of this one alive?” [Or, the one where Alex is hired to cater a private dinner party for Prince Henry and his friends, and it does not go as he expects.]

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Newton's Fourth Law | dilfpickles | E | 26k

In which Alex meets his new very attractive roommate through Reddit, downloads Grindr, and discovers some things about himself and his roommate in the process.

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Knowing me, knowing you | phlebotinxm | E | 8k

It wasn’t like the thought crept up on him by surprise. It had come in waves, like white salty water spread upon the shore and leaving little bits of foam and dust for people to see, like an idea Henry couldn’t quite shake that seemed to bleed into every era of their lives. It stayed at the back of his mind as he got up in the morning, and pulsed against his temple when he fell asleep. [In which, upon discovering something he’d never imagined about his father, Henry realizes that he is ready to take the next big step in his and Alex’s relationship.]

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All the Lonely Starbucks Lovers | @kiwiana-writes | E | 5k

“That floor doesn’t look like it’s very comfortable on your knees, is all.” Henry leans forward, scooping out a piece of brownie that got under the counter, somehow. “I wouldn’t worry about that—my knees are quite used to it, I assure you.” A ringing silence follows this pronouncement, during which Henry focuses very hard on opening a trap door directly into hell with the power of his mind. [Or, five times Henry puts his foot in his mouth in front of his customer crush, and one time he puts his dick in his customer crush's mouth instead doesn't.]

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The Consequences (Of Our Actions) series | @anchoredarchangel | E | 78k+

"I sort of came out as bisexual to both Nora and myself when we were watching that fucking snoozefest of a Royal Wedding years ago, and I told her with no hesitation that you were on my list.” Suddenly, Henry looks very present in this previously one-sided conversation, eyes boring into him even if he sounds a little choked as he clarifies, “I was on-” “My No Consequences sex list,” Alex confirms brazenly, “Yeah." [Or: During an inadvisable spot of dating years back, Alex and Nora made a game out of making extensive lists of celebrities they could hook up with without it being cheating. One breakup and several years later, Alex meets someone on his list for the very first time at a charity gala and decides it's appropriate to tell him all about it.]

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Burnt Offering | justice fortheJ14magazine | G | 9k

He just needs to get through washing his hair. Simple. Except washing his hair has never been simple. It’s the polar opposite, actually. The more he thinks about the task set out in front of him, the more daunting and impossible it feels. His limbs feel like lead and the weight of the hot water pouring over him makes his head buzz. But Alex can do this. He’s done it before. A shower after a long lacrosse game or that one time he had the flu and had to stop three times to sit under the water and collect himself. He can handle a little finals week exhaustion. He has to. [Or, Alex’s hair care routine is elaborate, he struggles to let Henry help him, and he learns some important things about receiving love through service.]

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Ho for the Holidays | @whimsymanaged | E | 6k

“Listen, don’t worry about this,” Henry says quickly, already mentally crafting the passive-aggressive text he’s going to send Pez. “Better luck next year. I’ll just be off—“ “Hold your damn horses.” Alex stops Henry with a fast, surprisingly gentle hand to his wrist. His eyebrows furrow. “What did you put on your questionnaire?” Henry’s ears go hot. “That’s none of your business.” Alex scoffs and leans in closer. “Baby, we matched. It’s safe to say we have at least some interests in common. Be honest—was it because you confessed to having a secret desire to slap me?” [Or, Pez organizes an event called Ho for the Holidays, and these two idiots get paired up.]

--

see you all soon! :D

sarah / anincompletelist xx

[receival]

baldur’s gate 3 starters.

the following is a collection of sentence starters from larian’s baldur’s gate 3. part 2.

look at me - i’m not a monster.

stay back. i don’t want to hurt you, but i will.

no. you’re not one of them at all.

i was ready to run you through. my mistake, friend.

that’s far enough. what’s your business down here?

you revealed our location? that tongue gets any looser, (name), and i’ll cut it out.

reckon i might miss this place.

this place is more dangerous than i thought.

well, don’t you cut a fine figure.

sometimes i’m jealous of that girl. ugh - to feel so invincible again.

in your expert opinion, what’s the best way to kill a devil?

i’m certain there are answers out there. we’ll find them together.

there’s no story. none that you’re entitled to hear, anyway.

you can tolerate a great deal of suffering, so long as it has meaning.

until then, all i can do is endure.

please try to understand that it’s not something i can just talk about freely.

perhaps there’s potential in you.

honestly, your faith is your own concern. i won’t judge, one way or the other.

i think i did well by joining you.

you already know my biggest secrets. what more can you ask?

that wall’s an illusion! hiding what, i wonder …

sun, moon, and stars will still be there, waiting for us.

this place is pretty spectacular, isn’t it?

no book or painting could ever do its strange beauty justice.

a perfect ring of mushrooms … nature, or magic?

hmm. i thought that might’ve done something.

another illusion. is anything real down here?

i’m more concerned with this ‘twit’ who set a spectator on you.

a rival - a mere footnote to my legend. you should be more concerned with who i am.

the fools must have turned back. or, better yet, died in the search.

i need no more rivals. try to take this as a compliment, yes?

this presence … this magic is not divine, but fey.

little? i am a god! and i’m gonna rip you - tear you - wear you for a hat -

don’t do anything hasty, now.

i’ll just kill you and claim it for myself.

i’m the lord of murder - i’ll show you why.

if you’re expecting me to drop to my knees before you, forget it.

a wizard’s tower is his sanctum, a private place for research and respite. but as this wizard’s not home … i say we take a peek.

a strange place for a button. especially one that doesn’t work.

what good would it do for me to be troubled? we can’t save them all.

you’ll have to speak slowly. i find it quite difficult to concentrate with my condition gnawing at my insides like a teething displacer kitten.

the whole village is falling to pieces …

hey, maybe we can scare up a few dusty bottles of wine somewhere.

i like your way of thinking. split any takings we find?

what creatures live in water this dark?

i’m a rabid dirty dog. and i bite.

i could’ve killed you before you even noticed me, but i didn’t. stand down.

i can be discreet. no need for bloodshed.

share? you really are in the wrong place.

a bleeding heart, are you? reckon i’ll just roast and eat it.

what in the hells did you do to that corpse?

you do plenty for me, more than you realize. but this cannot be remedied.

are you alright? is there anything i can do to help you?

enough. bickering won’t save your friend.

run away, then.

(name) - i was so worried! did they hurt you?

who cares? we’re together now, thank gods!

i’m grateful, don’t mistake me, but … why help us?

freeze it, cock-stench. we aren’t done just yet.

pay up, and you get to skink away. resist, and i gut you.

drop it. i don’t owe you anything.

your incompetence has been my ruin.

stop! no more innocents will die today, (name).

you care for the weak. most curious.

you so much as touch me, and i’ll tear you from limb to limb.

ah - another treacherous soul walks among us.

i ain’t going down easy.

you been a shit since i laid eyes on you, (name).

strike him down. prove your faith.

your silence speaks to your heresy.

look, you have no idea what you’re dealing with …

it’s the whole damn reason we’re here, and i’m not leaving without it.

the mission comes first.

and i thought i’d heard it all. that’s some cambion-level deception.

i go where there’s shit to stir. and there’s no shortage of options.

i can’t remember much, truth be told.

centuries of torment will do that to you.

you’ve been naughty. and you know what happens when you’re naughty.

just who in the nine hells are you?

well, well. aren’t you a luscious thing?

been a long time since someone stuck their neck out for me like that.

you have a manner of irresistible desperation about you. i like it.

you know, i’ve been thinking. and i think there’s something i should tell you. nothing big or terrible, just … a small little detail about me that hasn’t come up naturally.

i want to join you - to fight by your side.

i’m sorry for barging in like this, but i had to come find you.

i won’t let you down. i promise.

we all have our burdens, one way or the other.

i’m trying to say that you’ve earned my trust in a way very few ever have … i want that to mean something.

freedom - i’d forgotten how it felt. thank you.

if you have a moment, i’d like your opinion on something.

the problem is this: a preponderance of evidence that i am a terrible adventurer.

i can’t risk re-capture. i barely escaped last time.

it was a mistake. and not one we’ll repeat.

i don’t know. he was kind of fun.

we can’t just invite danger in to our hearth like that. we must be more careful.

most monsters will think twice before making a meal of me.

an old hunter’s trick - if you can’t mask your scent, spoil it.

i prefer a weapon to stench, thanks.

you’re a monster hunter? not what i imagined.

whatever you’re hunting, your stench alone will kill it.

a quick wit is rare indeed.

know how to ask, and they’ll share that knowledge. if you’re fool enough to pay their price.

speak plainly. what is she?

i think you’re mistaken - this place looks innocent enough.

truth is like a blade, my friend. we can arm ourselves with it - or just as easily find it pressed against our throat.

i would not put you in danger.

your coyness is getting boring. tell me.

you take insult where none is intended, my friend.

how thoroughly invigorating it is to stand by one’s friend in the face of danger.

you best have one hells of an apology for me.

you must have mistaken me for someone else.

that wriggler swimming in your brain juice is a bit of an inconvenience, isn’t it?

that’s none of your concern.

don’t change the subject.

keep that hole under your nose shut.

let’s not involve ourselves in this place any longer than is necessary.

you want to play the hero so badly? fine. let’s make this interesting.

gods, it’s hot in here.

i’ve had better days. and worse ones.

i am, after all, the villain of the tale.

you truly are a soul that steels my own.

you are as thick as they come.

even i am tired of the sound of my own voice.

i stand at a precipice, but if you do not give up hope, neither shall i.

all of this … it must feel like a betrayal.

you bastard! you ruined it, you ruined everything!

slow down - what did i do?

this is an interesting way of thanking me.

i don’t need this. good luck getting out of here on your own.

i know i should head home, but … i can’t bring myself to leave.

(are you alright?) / not even a little bit. but i will be.

she favored me like a child favors a captive pet.

i promise i will not betray your trust.

i cannot thank you enough.

you will face (name)’s judgement.

i wish you could have visited at a better time.

you had no right to intervene.

you’re not one of us.

copper for your thoughts?

always a delight to speak to you.

did i play games like this in my youth? was i sweet once?

what are you doing? i’m busy here!

nothing beats the taste of stolen beer.

come on, now. they’re just having a bit of fun.

let’s do what we have to do, then get out of here.

smell’s like burnt flesh.

hold out your arm so i can mark your flesh.

i’m here to spill your guts across the floor.

pain without purpose is a terrible thing, wouldn’t you agree?

i often feel i like raw pain too much. it scares me.

as long as the story ends in death, it’s all the same to me.

forgive me, but - that look in your eyes. something terrible has happened to you.

what i see in your eyes, in your soul, is only natural.

we’ve all suffered in these dark times. it is little wonder you hear scars of pain and anguish.

touch me and you’ll lose your hand.

the pain you suffer will cleanse you - do not fight it.

you look tired. should i take over?

welcome the pain. let it become part of you.

that looks like it’s going to bruise.

not that i’m suggesting we stop for a drink, of course.

i wouldn’t want to place all my faith in blind luck.

sympathies won’t help me to survive.

your life, much like your words, is meaningless. end the latter to save the former.

looks like the booze got the better of them. they’re practically unconscious.

they’re dying for me. all of them.

why don’t you take a closer look? i’ll observe from back here.

please don’t open the creepy book!

toddlers are easier to please than you lot.

you know, i never pictured myself as a hero.

all i want is a little fun. is that so much to ask?

having performance issues, (name)?

never have i met such troglodytes.

i was hoping you wouldn’t notice i was gone.

i suggest we admire it from afar.

it would be too much to hope that’s nothing to do with us, wouldn’t it?

i go my own way - alone.

i’ll feed your innards to the ants before i do that.

[monstersdownthepath]

Herald of Lissala: Kurshu the Undying

CR 15

Lawful Evil Large Outsider

Adventure Path: Shattered Star: Into the Nightmare Rift, pg. 88-89

"Lissala?" I hear some of you ask in confusion, "who's Lissala? I've never heard of her!" And as I turn from the chalkboard to explain, the unfortunate who asked is teleported before the decrepit and mummified Kurshu to receive a fate worse than any I could bestow: an in-depth history lesson of an empire which survived for thousands of years before being struck down by an apocalypse. I speak, of course, of ancient Thassilon--the very same empire ruled by the archmages known as the Runelords--of which Lissala was the chief deity. When Thassilon was destroyed by Earthfall, so too was Lissala's faith, an organization of millions reduced to a fraction of its glory in mere moments, which inevitably dwindled until basically nothing was left. Lissala was not killed by this event (though many believe she was), but faded into total obscurity on Golarion, leaving behind countless markers upon history and a great many of her divine creations, Kurshu included.

Even in the modern day, there are very few beings in existence who even know about Lissala, let alone worship her, but nevertheless there are some who still fervently hold onto their faith that she may one day return, chief among them Kurshu herself and the Rune Giants who remain slavishly devoted to both Lissala and the dwindling Runelords. Now and then a true Cleric of Lissala will rise up and show actual divine power, but it's a coin flip as to whether they've truly forged a connection with the lost Thassilonian deity or are being deceived by some other entity... and if they ARE, then they have Hell to pay when Kurshu tracks them down to investigate.

Having spent many thousands of years wandering Golarion and the Great Beyond in the hopes of finding traces of Lissala's presence to soothe her (which the book hearbreakingly describes as "similar to a widower smelling his dead wife's clothes in the hopes of sparking a lost memory"), Kurshu has grown to possess a paradoxical resentment for her deity and creator for abandoning her to wallow among the filth and ruin left in the wake of Thassilon's fall. Though she remains devoted, this devotion is described in a way that almost feels like a drug addiction than a true bond, with every part of Kurshu screaming for any sign of her goddess even while she's is painfully aware of how pitiful it's making her and how much she desires to simply stop and find something else. She hates Lissala. She loves Lissala. She resents her, and yet is fully aware she would gladly crawl back into her master's lap if it meant never again feeling the longing she does now. She is pitiful, but she despises the idea of being pitied. Do not bring up how relieved she looks when a Cleric of Lissala shows true promise, or when she finds some artifact or place which resonates with the power of the lost goddess.

While many Heralds possess duties they're expected to perform, Kurshu is a free agent, able to pursue her own goals. These goals continuously revolve around Lissala and Thassilon, but she is free to pursue them with her endless time, pausing only occasionally for a snack break, but we'll get to THAT in a moment. Unlike other Heralds, Kurshu has no goddess to direct her and is free to respond to the summons or prayers of ANY being that invokes her regardless of alignment should see use in it. She is also able to track down anyone wishing to learn more of Thassilon and its rune magic to teach them, and can actually replace the target of a Greater Planar Ally spell being cast by a Lawful Evil-aligned caster if they're not careful in how they word their requests for knowledge. Guarded by her own obscurity, most beings don't know just who or what they're dealing with until it's far too late, and she's seized control of them. But what will she do once she has someone on a leash? Let's find out...

Kurshu has two primary motivations in any encounter: survive first, and locate more Thassalonian lore after. To aid in her survival, she often has a menagerie of Outsiders of varying alignments and strengths at her beck and call, a small army she is prompted to stock with subject hovering between CR 8 and 10 due to her horrific hunger. You see, without Lissala's divine power flowing into her, Kurshu suffers from Divine Separation, an affliction which imposes 1 negative level every day she goes without devouring the corpse of an Outsider (including Native Outsiders; tieflings and aasimar beware!), which often means that--if she's trying to be economical with her livestock--she's encountered with anywhere between 2 and 6 negative levels to sap her otherwise potent skills.

Further confounding the issue is the fact that she refuses to consume Lawful Evil Outsiders on principal (but will if she's desperate), AND that in order to alleviate her hunger, the consumed victim must have at least 8 Hit Dice; she cannot simply feed upon Quasits to stave off her decay, she must at the very least be slaying creatures like Succubi, Choral Angels, and Pelagastr, creatures which can actually fight back against her. Every HD from a consumed Outsider instantly removes an equal number of negative levels, meaning she can "waste" her food by eating Outsiders with too many HD, something she's painfully aware of and which can often cause her to wait a little longer than advisable between feedings, weakening her if her enemies are trying to hunt her down. Similarly, if she knows she's being hunted she may burn through her supply faster than she intends trying to keep herself at full strength, forcing her into a desperate catch-22 as she runs out of minions to slow her adversaries down.

But how does she keep this army of hers in check? Limited Wish. Unlike many monster entries where Limited Wish is simply a blank check, the book goes into a lot of detail about how Kurshu manipulates this powerful spark of divine magic she retains and can use, for free, 3 times a day. She primarily uses it as Charm Monster to snare the minds of her prey, keeping them docile and willing to listen to her for two weeks per casting, weakening them with a Wished up Mind Fog if need be, though she can also save a wish casting by instead heightening her spells with a 3/day Power Surge, a swift action she can invoke to raise the save DC of the next spell she casts by +2.

In case you thought she only had her wishes available, this is far from the truth. She has a LONG list of 3/day spells available to her, including but not limited to Cure Serious Wounds, Hold Person, Stinking Cloud, and Slow, with simple but potent offensive options like Fireball, Lightning Bolt, and the reliable Vampiric Touch. She can counter enemy tricks with Dispel Magic and defend herself or a valuable ally with Displacement, and of course she can use all of these while flying*, leaving her foes to tangle with her ground-bound allies while she rains debuffs, damage, and debilitation upon them.

*NOTE: There's an error in her Archives of Nethys sheet; she's supposed to have a 60ft Fly speed (Good) maneuverability!

The book amusingly notes that her tendency to have a flock of Chaotic Outsiders with her, and her own withered appearance, causes many of her enemies to waste powerful anti-Chaos or anti-Undead spells upon her in the mistaken belief she is also some minion of chaos or undeath, often giving her just enough time to retaliate with a powerful blow of her own. In especially dramatic cases, someone may rush up and hit her with a powerful Cure Wounds or Heal spell in the hopes of ending her, only to watch her HP refill and invite her retaliation.

She's no melee fighter and prefers to keep at a distance for fear of death, but the token melee abilities she has are quite potent: her lashing tail can slam victims for 1d8+2 damage, then Grab and constrict them for 1d8+5 damage each round until they either escape or succumb to whatever spell she prepares to melt their brains with via Limited Wish (such as the crushing, no-save-allowed Geas, a spell that LW allows her to cast as a standard action!). And speaking of brain-melting, I'm sure there's a very select audience reading this that will enjoy knowing the snake woman can also shave 1d4 Intelligence off any creature she strikes with either of her two slam attacks (1d8+5 on their own), allowing her to literally beat someone stupid.

Defensively, Kurshu is a tank to a degree matched by few other casting-focused Heralds. 30 AC, DR 10 that's only bypassed by a magical cold iron weapon, and a decent 26 SR to fizzle most spells being cast by the creatures she's hoping to face. She's also got 30 Resistance to (almost) every element but Force, severely cutting down on any attempt to damage her with elemental power... unless that power is Acid damage, which not only does she have no resistance to, but is the only damage type that shuts off her Regeneration 5, an ability she will take full advantage of by keeping out of reach or even teleporting away to heal up.

Kurshu does not wish to fight to the death, and will use her 3/day Greater Teleport or Plane Shift to escape any encounter that begins to turn against her, and trying to counter that with Dimensional Anchor or similar may see her using Limited Wish to break the effect without risking a dispel check failure... or simply teleport her enemies away instead of herself. "Wait, that's not a spell effect in Pathfinder!" To which I smile and point at the fourth line in Limited Wish: "Produce any other effect whose power level is in line with the above effects, such as a single creature automatically hitting on its next attack or taking a -7 penalty on its next saving throw." The example lines on LM's spell card are merely to show the power level it can manage, its actual effect can be anything that roughly matches a 6th level Wizard or Sorcerer spell in terms of power, which a hostile Dimension Door effect to send multiple people hundreds of feet away falls into. Even if she can't get the full party with it, splitting them enough to let her either pick off one or two key members or simply flee the combat is a good enough use in her eyes.

Having spent millennia avoiding her own death with a fear matched only by mortals, Kurshu has no end to emergency options. As mentioned, she can Greater Teleport or Plane Shift away from conflicts she wants no part of up to 3/day. In addition, she has both Craft Wondrous Item and Scribe Scroll, but can combine them with her unique Spell-Like Crafting, allowing her to use her spell-like abilities to meet the prerequisites when creating magic items, something that would normally prevent her from having three or four Limited Wishes on her belt waiting for her personal supply to run out. The same can be said for her transport spells, or scrolls of Tongues (which she can use at-will), Stinking Cloud, or Slow. Such valuable items also act as potent bribes to make other Lawful creatures more likely to serve her by their own free will, if she doesn't simply wish up a pile of valuables to pay them.

Kurshu can be a frightening and powerful foe, even moreso than most other Heralds due to the lack of divine restriction she operates under. She does not need to be invited into a situation by Lissala's worshipers, she can simply show up of her own free will with a small army of fiends, monitors, and celestials at her beck and call, and now everyone simply has to deal with her presence and whatever nonsense her ensorcelled "allies" are getting up to. Why is she here? That's probably the true mystery of the adventure, and solving it brings the party one step closer to making her leave without provoking her potentially apocalyptic wrath.

You can read more about her here.

[doomieshot]

Maybe it was always them, even before Mythal, when he was a spirit of wisdom, wandering around, being that, just knowledge and wisdom... Maybe even back then he longed for more than just knowledge.

A physical body that could be loved, it was probably his curiosity and desire that prompted him to accept the first opportunity. He didn't get that connection with anyone else, well with anyone other than Mythal and even if he had her, they were just two curious beings exploring the world, exploring themselves and exploring emotions, feelings, experiences... They could be more.

Ambition may have corrupted him too much... But he swears that the moment he saw her, lying on that mattress of straw and cotton, her arm glowing with magic and pain, he had never seen such a precious being. A dalish, an elf who had lost her knowledge to the dawn of history and time, too proud to accept help? Perhaps he didn't like them because they reminded him too much of himself.

But she was different, a totally new spirit, striking, unique... She was fierce, but she was also sweet, she had shown it by being so sweet to Cole, but fiercely sinking her (metaphorical) fangs into the initiative to help the mages, even though everyone seemed to be against them.

He had two sides... Or maybe more, he wanted to see them all.

He didn't realise when or how, but his heart was racing and his face was hot the first time she spoke to him, he doesn't even know how he could control himself so well... The terrible Fen'Harel blushing at the curiosity and gentleness of a Dalishana? Yes, Elgar'nan could probably burst out laughing if he was told something like that.

Oh, but when he saw that vallaslin.... That damn tattoo, her Lavellan was not the property of any god, she was not a slave, she hated to see that mark of Mythal even if it was that simple and delicate tattoo on her cheekbones and not that intricate one Felassan used to wear... It could have been worse, it could have been marked by Falon'Din or maybe Dirthhamen... Ugh, gods forbid... Well maybe it was the jealousy of his pride or his Fen'Harel side, but he felt possessive of the Inquisitor's interests, which in turn, made him feel sick because she was light and strength and he couldn't and wouldn't turn that off.

That probably contributed to his abandonment of her.

His perfect, precious Lavellan, she shouldn't be caught up in his catastrophes.... But he couldn't help but feel a part of him being reborn when he saw her coming up the stairs. It didn't matter that she now had wrinkles around her tired face, or that she had a few grey hairs adorning her hair, to him, she would still look like a divinity, everything the evanuri once dreamed of being, she already was and had nothing to do with the perfection and beauty of a god's immortality.

He felt self-conscious, not only because of Mythal's presence, but also because of the intervention of his vhenan.... He was being intervened by the women in his life and one of them even took him by the hand and promised not to leave him, how could she be so precious and gentle with him? He was heartbroken! She should be furious with him, she lost an arm, she threw herself at everyone, she almost lost her life TWICE.... And all because of him and yet, she forgives him and goes with him to exist and be happy in the veil? How? That question hits him too many times a day, even now, when his head rests on his beloved's thighs and she can only caress him gently like the fluttering of a butterfly, as if he might break if she touches him too roughly.

She is gentleness, she is humility, she is mercy, probably why Cole felt so at ease in her presence? That's probably why everyone was so comfortable with her, and him? He was betrayal, lies, and selfishness, the complete opposite, and yet he melted in her arms and gawked at her.

If this was a dream, he never wanted to wake up.

(I'm just rambling on about how much I love Solas while I let the play control charge.)

[catbread0]

Hi do you mind doing a like Rayne Ames x Reader where Rayne has been very busy lately with his divine visionary work and they get into like a mini argument then the next day they both try to apologize to each other at the same time (maybe Rayne has like a bunny necklace he bought and y/n brought bunny cookies) and yayy reconciliation- just some fluff :))

Rayne Ames x Reader

First time making a story, feedback is appreciated.(Sorry for any mistakes)

Thank you for requesting!!⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

Words: 1,094

A BIT OF SPOILERS OF HIS PAST!, fluff, a bit of angst, arguing, happy ending •ᴗ•

Mashle Masterlist

Bunny Necklace

It was another lonely morning for you in Adler dorms. It was a Sunday, and you had hoped your lover would be back from one of his many Divine Visionary missions.

It saddened you when you woke up to him still not back. It has been a week since you last saw him, but you knew that this was what he had to do as Divine Visionary, for his goal to be accomplished. 

But would it be selfish to wish he would spend more quality time with you?

As you walk through the dorm and school campus you see couples happily in each other's presence and overhearing couples plans for dates. 

Each time you see this you feel a bit of… envy? 

You would try to push those thoughts away but each time they would crawl back into your mind. 

You knew you shouldn't feel envious of others. When you decided to be in a relationship with Rayne Ames you knew that your relationship would be different then other students. 

But, you still are happy and you still love him right? So why did it hurt you when you already knew this would happen?

As the day passed slowly you still hadn't seen Rayne anywhere on the school compass. You decided to return to your dorm to retrieve a book, one that Rayne gifted to you. 

As you enter your shared dorm you see Rayne sitting at the desk that came with your dorm, his back was facing you. 

You were taken back, you hadn’t seen nor heard from him, why didn’t he come and find you to tell you he was back after a week of not being able to see each other? 

Once you're out of your state of shock, you walk up behind him.

“When did you return dear?”

Without even looking at you as he continues working on some papers, he answers.

“2 hours ago.”

You felt anger engulf you slowly. Why does it seem like he doesn’t care about you? Does your presence not matter to him!? After a whole week of being separated, he goes straight to work!? 

“Are you serious!? And you didn’t even come to look for me to spend time together!?”

Rayne sighed in annoyance once he heard you raise your voice.

“I figured you would return to our dorm, meaning I wouldn't need to look for you. In addition, I have to finish these papers, you should know how busy I am.”

Soon the argument started to escalate, the couple were shouting at each other. How one feels lonely while the other argues that he is busy with his work. 

You had walked out of your dorm, not wanting to see him after the argument. You walked out of Easton Magic Academy and went to your house in the city.

Your parents went to greet you but they saw that you had gone straight to your room.

You walked around your room in frustration. However, guilt started to set in you. You shouldn't have argued with him over something so little. His goal was important to him, what he went through as a child was harsh, and that is why he wants to change the world to be more fair to orphans like him and his younger brother. 

That was one of the things you loved about him, trying to change the world for children so they do not experience what he went through. 

Why did you get so angry at him for trying to make the world a better place? All over because you saw couples being happy all the time? You could have just sucked it up and dealt with it, just like you did every time….

You felt tears sting your eyes….

Your parents heard your cries and decided to enter your room, they were worried about you and brought you to sit on the edge of your bed. You wept into your Mom’s and Dad’s shoulders as they both comforted you.

After some time you had calmed down, and your parents suggested making cookies as an apology and for you to eat to make you feel better. You thought that would be a perfect apology gift.

As you and your parents made the cookies you decided to make them in the shape of a bunny. You have known since the beginning of your relationship that Rayne had a soft spot for bunnies.

It was now the next day and you had woken up early. The bunny-shaped cookies were in a bag, and you took them with you as you thanked your parents and went outside the door. 

You ran towards Easton Magic Academy and went towards your shared dorm. You went to knock on the door but you stopped yourself as you hesitated for a short while. Before you knock, the door opens, and Rayne stands there. 

The both of you stood in silence, awkwardness filled the air, it felt as if the air was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Soon you found your voice and held the bag of cookies in front of him.

“I made these for you. I shouldn't have shouted at you for something so stupid. I’m very sorry, I didn’t mean to argue with you.”

Rayne’s eyes widened a bit when he took the bag and he saw the cookies shaped as bunnies. Even when you were mad at him you still thought of the things he loved.

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing, I should be the one making it up to you. After our argument, you made me open my eyes and realize I was hurting you and should have fought harder for our relationship. I’ve been so blind-sighted with completing mission after mission that I’ve stopped spending quality time with you.”

That’s when Rayne held out a small box in front of you. You took the box from his hand and opened it.

You felt a smile form on your face as you saw what was inside the box, it was an adorable bunny necklace. 

“It's lovely.”

Rayne helped you put on the necklace. You went inside your dorm and looked in the mirror. 

“How does it look?”

Rayne came from behind you and a small smile could be seen on his face, “It looks beautiful on you, but you make everything look stunning on you.”

You feel him spin you around and let out a small giggle as you feel his lips touch yours. Today, Rayne would put his work aside to make time for his wonderful partner.

~Lilly's

[lepurcinus]

I've seen a couple of times how some people compare Tailchaser's song with Watership Down to say how it's more like this one than Warriors.

But to tell the truth don't I think that's not correct either?

Although my knowledge of Tailchaser's song is also limited (Sorry I should really get serious about reading).

I know enough of what's in it and its elements to say that the similarity isn't that close either. The only thing we could say they are close in as "Mythic Xenofiction" stories is the appearance of "fantasy" elements and the use of invented language and a whole mythology, and the odd thing or two in terms of plot or way of writing. And they're not really alike in that either, both tangents go two ways.

Although Watership Down has obvious fictional elements the story feels more grounded in a world close to our own.

All the locations exist. The rabbits don't do things their real-life counterparts couldn't do (except of course, talk and generally be "smarter"), their conflicts are also not "unnatural" things (enemy rabbits, human activity, predators, the weather).

Also while elements of "magic" are present they are not particularly strong or some sort of common element that is actually of regular use in their world. Fiver cannot lift stones with his mind. The "gods" do not come down to earth to talk and interact with the rabbits directly.

There's even a slight hint that several of the El-ahrairah stories never happened as such, or didn't happen as they say they did, but are actually more epic versions of things that other rabbits went through before.

And other things like their society is closer to what they actually do, it's not terribly complex, you also don't have something like other animals also having clans with their own rules or something.

On the other hand Tailchaser possesses all of that. The world is a fictional one, the locations don't exist. Although I don't think it's as criminal as other books the cats are not as particularly “cat-like” (aside from basic things and the body language language which Is actually a good add) in the way they act and take quite a few liberties in writing how their society works, which is also much more complicated with major events, rituals, customs, etc.

It's more obvious that it's a fantasy world because here they don't hide from you that the cat mythology is real. The divine beings do exist, they interact with the characters. One of the threats are literally monsters-thing-cats. Another is also a demon dog-thing that is summoned.

Plus of course, the increased presence of other animal “groups” of their own that interact with the protagonists.

So yeah, I actually think it's *more* correct to compare it to things like Ga Hoole or Silverwing rather than Watership Down.

Which also makes me think that we really need a better system for classifying these stories.

I would think if you want a cat story that actually is closer to WD.

Books like Varjak Paw, Cat House(?), Solo's Journey, In The Long Dark and The Wildings are closer to that tangent.

[loxosceleslolo]

Call It Magic

my Elden Ring brainrot is so severe that I have yet another AU longfic in the works. This one involves both the Heart Stolen "ending" and the question: "what if Ansbach met us at the First Step instead of Varre?" (this was crossposted to AO3 if you prefer to read there)

“Can you teach me how to do that, Sir Ansbach?” 

Sir Ansbach looked up from the book in his hand, the crease between his snowy brows deepening slightly like a furrow in freshly fallen snow. His eyes, sharp as a winter morning, met Folly’s eager gaze.

Folly pointed to the book, her finger trembling slightly with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. “That. Readin’. Writin’, too, if you could. Please.” Her words tumbled out in a rush, like water over stones.

“You never learned?” 

“Can’t say that book learning was a real priority out there in the Badlands. Not with the sellswords I worked for, neither.” Folly tossed her black hair, obsidian waves catching the light, and squared her shoulders, almost daring Ansbach to say something about her history.

“What makes you interested in reading, if I may ask?” Ansbach's tone was gentle, coaxing.

“It’s magic. It’s magic I can learn, even.”

“How so?” Ansbach leaned forward slightly.

Folly leaned over Ansbach’s shoulder, close enough that the warmth of her breath ghosted across his cheek. She traced a letter with her fingertip, the touch reverent. The scent of ink and vellum clung to him, an intoxicating mixture that made her heart beat a little faster, like a caged bird. “You draw these symbols…”

She traced another word, her finger dancing across the page. “…and you can convey your thoughts across any distance. Across years, or centuries even, if the book holds up. It’s as close to real magic as anything, I reckon.” Her voice was hushed, filled with awe at the power contained in those simple marks.

Ansbach smiled, the expression transforming his stern features. Bright, genuine smiles from him were a rare and precious thing, like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. “Was that the only reason?” His eyes twinkled with knowing amusement.

Folly’s cheeks burned, a rosy hue spreading across her face like wildfire. Of course it wasn’t. She’d take any excuse to be close to the older man, to bask in his presence like a sunflower turning towards the Erdtree. Not that she would admit it. 

“If I’m going to be the Elden Ring’s steward until our Divinity and Luminary awaken, I should know how to read and write, shouldn’t I? I’d much rather do it myself than trust a scribe.” The words came out in a rush, a thin veil over her true motivations.

“Fair enough.” Ansbach gently closed the book, the soft thud resonating in the quiet air. He set it on his bedroll with careful reverence, then picked up a stick, its rough texture a stark contrast to the smooth pages of the book. “We’ll begin with learning the letters.”

Folly picked up a stick herself, mimicking Ansbach’s posture. She traced the marks he made, her brow furrowed in concentration. “Like this?”

He laughed, full and hearty, the sound warming Folly from the inside out. “You’re as quick a study with that stick as you are with a blade, dear Folly!”

Dear Folly.

Those two words set Folly’s skin ablaze, as if she’d been touched by the sun itself. They left her feeling as if an entire swarm of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach, their wings beating in time with her racing heart.

Words were magic, indeed. And in that moment with the warmth of Ansbach’s praise enveloping her, Folly felt as if she had discovered the most powerful spell of all.

[iphig3nia]

Sunlight || Sebastian Sallow

“Oh, your love is sunlight”

Sebastian speculates that you are of divine nature, he think his observations prove it.

(no established relationship, no outright love confession only worship from afar >:(, he’s on his HANDS and KNEES)

cw - none

a/n || man the Starbucks refreshers with the vanilla sweet cream rly fucks so hard, it’s so good.

—

Sebastian observes you.

He thinks that you are the goddess Nike, victory made human. Encouraging him fight after fight. He vies for your attention after he duels in the Crossed Wands club, wanting to be praised by who he believes to be a goddess. “I won because you were watching” is what he would say to you, but he doesn’t. Sebastian notices that the more and more you watch his duels the more he wins. Surely that is a sign of divine blessing from you, the winged victory perched on his shoulder. Your divinity is a speculation though, he will have to research more.

The more he observes the more he begins to believe.

Maybe you are a culmination of the muses. You embody Terpsichore when you dance in the undercroft when you think no one is watching. And especially for him, when you decide he is worthy enough to see your lithe ankles and your movements that flow like water. Sebastian sees the muse Calliope in you when you read to him, laying on your lap outside in the shade of a tree. Your words weave stories of heroes and monsters, like Penelope at her loom every night. But he is not thinking of the hero’s schemes and adventures, he is thinking about how your eyes are like sunlight, warming his body and mind.

Or maybe you are the goddess Circe. Your magic so strong that you could turn the tide of the battle with one spell. He would certainly not tell you that he would be happy to be turned into an animal, if it meant that he would get to stay at your feet for eternity. Sebastian thinks if he were Odysseus, he would not hesitate to stay on your island. You could bind him to you and make him your mortal consort. Sebastian thinks about the story and knows that if you were in it, Odysseus would cease his journey and stay with you.

It is set in his mind, you must be a goddess.

You sit in the courtyard reading a book with Sebastian’s head in your lap, the rays of the sun coming down onto you. You almost appear as a flame, pulling a moth into your light. Sebastian likes to think if he were Icarus and you were the sun he too would fly as close as possible to feel your warm touch on his skin. He too would see himself worthy of your sunlight. “With wax melted I’d meet the sea” he shivers at the thought, to feel your love to even feel your presence is something he would die for, it is worth dying for.

Surely if you aren’t a goddess then you must be Helen of Sparta reincarnated. Your blood and beauty has to be divine in some way, there is no question. You are so radiant that he would start a war for you he thinks to himself, to Sebastian you’re worth launching a thousand ships over. If Helen was of indescribable beauty, then you must be almost incomprehensible. Too beautiful for the mortal mind to even understand. He sees you look down at him from your book and you smile. “Something wrong?” You ask with a laugh, you wonder what has him staring at you so deeply.

“No, nothing’s wrong..” a lie

You gently run your fingers through his hair chuckling as he closes his eyes. “Everything is wrong” he thinks to himself, the way he must keep his adorations to himself, too scared to beg you to be his forever but aching to show you properly how deep his devotion is to you. For now he will conceal the worship he yearns to show you. Sebastian will hide how you have him wrapped around your finger, tight enough to draw blood.

Sebastian decides that one day he’ll drop to his knees as he should, grabbing at your skirt and heaping praise after praise to you. His confession will be filled to the brim with the supplications deserving of asking you to be his. On his knees he’ll ask you to let him stay in your sunlight, the Icarus to your certainty.

For now though he’ll continue to worship your sunlight in silence and hope that one day you’ll tell him which goddess you truly are.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Galactic Vows: chapter I

Summary: Within the walls of Aurorium's regal abode, murmurs of an imminent betrothal flutter like delicate wings. All eyes are on the princess, awaiting her response to the proposal, and the future of the kingdom hung in the balance. The weight of tradition, duty, and love rests heavily on her heart as she contemplates her answer, knowing that with one word, she will change the course of history.

pairing: Manda'lor!Din Djarin x afab!Princess!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Royalty Au, Unprotected sex, Violence, Death, Blood, Age-Gap, Fluff, Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, Powerful!reader, Dragons, Themes of war and political power, Trauma, Arranged marriage, Grogu being too cute you won't survive his cuteness, Emperor!Din.

next

The night sky is awash with a gentle radiance that filters through the trees, casting a serene glow upon the world of Asteralis. The moon, a divine lantern of the cosmos, illuminates the land with its soft light, transforming the darkness into a canvas of ethereal beauty.

The gentle beams filter through the leaves of the trees, painting intricate patterns of light and shadow upon the ground beneath them. It is a moment of pure tranquility, where the world seems to breathe in unison, and every creature seems to be in harmony with the peaceful night.

As the sun slowly descends beyond the horizon, the warm rays of its light embrace the land, a gentle kiss of warmth upon the cool marble tiles that lie beneath your bare feet.

The soft caress of a gentle, cool breeze envelops you, carrying with it the sweet aroma of blooming jasmine flowers. The fragrance fills the air, mingling with the subtle scent of the lush greenery of the royal gardens.

The petals of the flowers are as soft as velvet, each one a delicate work of art, and their fragrance is as intoxicating as the sweetest of loves. You inhale deeply, savoring the delicate fragrance that seems to embrace your senses, taking you on a journey of tranquility and calm.

Beneath your palms, the velvety touch of warmth embraces your lap, a comforting weight that brings solace. You sway gently on the swing, the rhythmic creak of the ropes harmonizing with the gentle rustle of the wind through the leaves. The enchanting moonlight illuminates Asteralis in a surreal glow, casting a magical spell over the kingdom. As you gaze at the mesmerizing sight, a wave of tranquility washes over you, lifting the weight of your princess duties off your shoulders.

"My jewel?"

The gentle whisper of your mother's voice calls to you, like a soft melody that slowly pulls you away from the tranquil cocoon of your thoughts. With a gentle turn of your head, you behold a regal figure standing in the doorway of your balcony. It is your mother, the Queen of Asteralis, and the very essence of her emanates an aura of authority and grace. Her attire is as majestic as the ruler that she is, every inch of her radiating the elegance and poise of a true queen.

Her eyes have an unspoken language of love, a depth of feeling that only a mother can possess, but also holds the weight of responsibility that matches her crown.

"What brings you here, mother?" You inquire your voice a gentle breeze that carries your words to her.

A playful glint sparks in her eyes as she makes her way towards you. "Must I have a reason to visit my beloved child?" she teases, her voice carrying the familiar lilt of affection that you have come to cherish.

The swing creaks gently as your mother settles down beside you, her elegant dress rustling softly against the fabric of the seat. You feel her gaze upon you, a weighty presence that studies your every feature with a deep knowing.

"Should I tell brother that you called me the favourite child?" You tease back, a mischievous smile gracing your lips.

The bond between you and your mother is one of love and laughter, a cherished connection that transcends the regal responsibilities that surround your life.

She chuckles softly, the sound carrying a hint of warmth. "Oh, he would be quite envious," she replies, her eyes glimmering with affection. "But my love for both of you is boundless and unwavering."

As the two of you sway on the swing, the gentle movement creating a soothing rhythm, you find comfort in this shared moment. The worries of the kingdom momentarily fade away, replaced by the simple joy of a mother and her child enjoying each other's company.

"So, my dear, have you heard the whispers in the halls?" she asks, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation.

Your curiosity piqued, you turn your attention fully to her, the warmth of her presence enveloping you. "Whispers?" you inquire, a note of intrigue in your voice.

Her eyes sparkle with a mix of excitement and tenderness. "There is talk of a proposal," she reveals, her words hanging in the air, filling the space between you.

You feel your heart skip a beat, a mixture of surprise and anticipation coursing through your veins. A proposal? The notion dances in your mind, weaving dreams of a future yet to be written. "Talks of a proposal?" Your voice trembles with uncertainty, the words lingering in the air as your mother's revelation takes root in your mind.

She nods gently, her eyes filled with a mother's wisdom and empathy. "Yes, my precious jewel," she begins, her voice carrying a soft cadence, "the Manda'lore himself has sent forth a proposal for the hand of the youngest Princess of Asteralis. It is a gesture that speaks volumes of his regard for our kingdom and his desire to forge a bond that unites our lands under a shared destiny."

You inhale deeply, the weight of the decision settling upon your shoulders. The moonlight casts a reflective glow upon the regal surroundings as if the very walls of the palace hold their breath in anticipation of your response.

"He is a leader of unwavering resolve," your mother continues, her voice carrying a mix of reverence and admiration. "His reign has brought stability to our people, and his unwavering dedication to the Mandalorian ways has earned him the respect of his warriors and the allegiance of neighboring lands."

Your heart skips a beat, a mixture of surprise and curiosity coursing through your veins. The Manda'lore? The legendary figure who commands the Mandalorian warriors with unwavering strength and honor. The very thought of a proposal from him fills your thoughts with a whirlwind of possibilities.

"He seeks a union that not only solidifies alliances but also lays the foundation for a future filled with unity and prosperity," she adds, her voice tinged with a mother's hope.

As she speaks, you find yourself caught between the weight of tradition and the whispers of your heart. The gentle breeze carries with it the fragrant scent of blooming flowers, their delicate petals mirroring the fragility of your thoughts.

"But, Mother, an arranged marriage? Is that what they're suggesting?" you inquire, searching her face for any hint of guidance.

Your mother's gaze softens, understanding the conflict that stirs within you. She reaches out to gently touch your hand, offering comfort and reassurance.

"Yes, my dear, it is an arranged union," she acknowledges, her voice gentle and soothing. "But it is not merely a transaction of power and alliances. The Manda'lore's proposal carries with it the potential for something greater. It is an opportunity to build bridges between our kingdoms, to forge a bond that goes beyond politics and secures a future of peace and prosperity."

Her words resonate within you, and you can sense the depth of her conviction. Yet, a part of you yearns for the freedom to choose your own path, to follow the whispers of your own heart.

"I understand the weight of duty, Mother," you say, your voice tinged with both respect and a hint of longing. "But what about love? Shouldn't that be a part of such a union?"

A contemplative silence falls between you, the moon casting its gentle glow upon the world as you both gather your thoughts. Your mother's eyes hold a mixture of empathy and understanding.

"Love, my precious jewel, is a complex tapestry," she replies, her voice carrying the wisdom of experience. "It can bloom from the seeds of friendship, respect, and shared dreams. The foundation of this proposed union is one built on trust and the shared desire for a better future. Love has the potential to grow within such a partnership, as two souls learn to navigate the intricacies of their hearts."

Her words resonate within you, and you find yourself pondering the possibilities. The moonlight bathes the surroundings in a serene glow, as if nature itself is urging you to listen to the whispers of your own heart.

"Ultimately, my dear, the decision rests with you," your mother continues, her voice gentle but firm. "You are the youngest Princess of Asteralis, and your happiness and fulfillment are of paramount importance. I will support you in whatever path you choose, whether it aligns with tradition or leads you on a different journey."

You take in her words, grateful for her understanding and unwavering support. The weight of the decision still lingers, but the seed of possibility has been planted within your heart.

"Thank you, Mother," you say, your voice filled with gratitude and a newfound sense of determination. "I will consider the proposal and listen to the whispers of my own heart. Whatever path I choose, I hope to honor our kingdom and our legacy."

Your mother smiles, a blend of pride and affection shining in her eyes. "I have no doubt that you will, my dear," she replies, her voice brimming with confidence. "Remember, you have the strength and wisdom within you to shape your own destiny. Trust yourself, and the answers will reveal themselves."

Emboldened by your mother's words, you feel a renewed sense of purpose. The night sky seems to shimmer with newfound possibilities, and you find solace in the gentle embrace of the swing.

As you and your mother continue to sway back and forth, you take a moment to reflect on the magnitude of the decision before you. The proposal from the Manda'lore holds the potential for great change, not only for yourself but for the kingdom of Asteralis.

You contemplate the vision of unity and prosperity that your mother spoke of, and you can't help but wonder if such a union could bring about a future where love and duty intertwine. The notion of love blossoming from a foundation of trust and shared dreams resonates deeply within you, and you realize that perhaps the path to happiness lies in finding a balance between tradition and personal desire.

With each passing moment, the night sky grows darker, stars twinkling like beacons of guidance. The moon continues its celestial journey, casting its ethereal glow upon the world. And as you sit on the swing, immersed in your thoughts, you begin to listen to the whispers of your own heart, knowing that it holds the key to your destiny.

The decision may not be an easy one, but with the love and support of your mother, you feel empowered to follow your own path, whether it aligns with tradition or veers in a different direction. You trust that, in due time, the answers will reveal themselves, and you will make a choice that honors both your own happiness and the legacy of Asteralis.

With a newfound sense of clarity and determination, you take one last gaze at the enchanting night sky, its beauty serving as a reminder that even amidst uncertainty, there is always a glimmer of hope. You turn to your mother, a silent understanding passing between you, and together you rise from the swing, ready to face the challenges and opportunities that lie ahead.

Hand in hand, you walk back into the palace, your hearts filled with love, trust, and the unwavering bond between a mother and her child. And as you step forward into the unknown, the night sky continues to watch over you, a tapestry of stars illuminating your path.

As the first rays of sunlight breach the horizon, a palpable sense of anticipation fills the air. The golden hues of dawn paint the sky, casting a warm glow that embraces the world with a gentle embrace.

The dawn chorus of birdsong weaves a melodious tune, adding to the symphony of excitement that stirs within the palace walls.

You step into the new day, the polished marble floors cool beneath your feet. Each breath you take is infused with a mixture of nervous anticipation and quiet determination. The sun's gentle caress upon your face feels like a reassuring touch, inspiring confidence as you make your way towards the throne room.

Approaching the grand entrance, the doors stand tall and imposing, intricately carved with symbols of the kingdom's history. With a steady hand, you push them open, revealing a world of regal splendor beyond.

As you enter, the room exudes an aura of grandeur. Soft sunlight filters through stained glass windows, casting a mosaic of vibrant colors upon the floor. The air hums with restrained energy, as if the very walls hold their breath in anticipation of the decision that awaits.

At the heart of the chamber, your older brother stands tall, exuding an air of authority, accompanied by his beloved husband, General Cadmus, whose presence radiates strength and loyalty.

Across the room, your sister stands gracefully, her regal stature accentuated by the presence of her husband, Lord Cedric, whose unwavering support is evident in his attentive gaze.

Upon the majestic thrones sit your parents, the King and Queen, their expressions a delicate balance of pride, love, and hope. Their presence commands respect, yet their eyes sparkle with warmth and understanding.

The hushed whispers of anticipation reverberate through the throne room, as all eyes turn toward you, the youngest Princess of Asteralis. The chamberlain, courtiers, nobles, and council members fill the opulent space, their presence a testament to the gravity of the moment.

You stand at the center, taking a deep breath to steady your nerves and meet the expectant gaze of your father, the King.

His voice, deep and resonant, fills the room as he addresses you with measured words, giving weight to each syllable. "My dear daughter," he begins, his eyes reflecting a mixture of authority and paternal love, "the time has come for you to share your thoughts and intentions regarding the proposal that has been laid before us."

You feel the weight of his words, the collective gaze of those assembled, and the weight of tradition bearing down upon you. In this moment, you draw strength from the teachings of your mother and the whispers of your own heart.

You take a step forward, the air is thick with anticipation, and a serene determination settles upon your features as you begin to speak.

"Father, honored members of the court," your voice carries through the room, its timbre steady and resolute. You take a moment to gather your thoughts, allowing the weight of your decision to settle within you.

"I have given careful consideration to the proposal put forth by the Manda'lore," you continue, your voice filled with a sense of conviction. "And after much reflection and listening to the whispers of my heart, I stand before you today to affirm my acceptance of this union."

A hushed silence fills the throne room as your words hang in the air. All eyes remain fixed upon you, waiting for your next words, and the anticipation is palpable.

"I understand the significance of this decision, not only for the kingdom of Asteralis but for the future of our people," you express, your voice carrying a mix of responsibility and determination. "It is my belief that this union holds the potential to strengthen our alliances and pave the way for a future of unity and prosperity."

As you speak, you feel a surge of confidence welling within you, fueled by the knowledge that you are making a choice based on a combination of duty, trust, and the possibility of love.

"I embrace this proposal with an open heart and a steadfast commitment to honor the traditions and values of our kingdom," you proclaim, your voice echoing with sincerity. "I am prepared to embark on this journey, knowing that it will require dedication, understanding, and resilience."

As the last words leave your lips, the room erupts into a symphony of emotions. The silence breaks, replaced by whispers, murmurs, and exclamations of surprise and approval. Courtiers exchange glances, their faces a mixture of curiosity and intrigue.

Your brother, the Crown Prince, steps forward, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Sister," he says, his voice filled with pride, "your decision speaks volumes of your wisdom and dedication to our kingdom. May this union bring forth the unity and prosperity we all strive for."

General Cadmus, standing by your brother's side, nods in agreement. "I have no doubt that together, our kingdoms will thrive," he adds, his voice resonating with confidence and support.

Your sister, radiant with joy, takes a step closer to you. "Little sister," she says, her voice filled with affection, "I am overjoyed to witness this moment. Your courage and willingness to embrace this path inspire me. May this union bring you the happiness and fulfillment you deserve."

Lord Cedric, standing beside your sister, places a hand on her shoulder and nods in agreement. "Our kingdoms shall stand united, and our families will share a bond that strengthens us all," he affirms, his voice filled with conviction.

The room buzzes with conversations, as nobles and council members discuss the significance of this decision. Your parents, the King and Queen, exchange a knowing glance, their eyes shimmering with pride and love.

Your father, the King, steps forward, his voice carrying the weight of his authority and the warmth of a father's love. "My dear daughter," he says, his voice resonating with pride, "your decision to accept this union fills my heart with pride and joy. Your dedication to our kingdom and your willingness to forge a path of unity and prosperity are commendable. May this union be blessed by the gods and lead us to a future of peace and harmony."

Your mother, the Queen, approaches you with grace and tenderness. She takes your hands in hers, her eyes shimmering with a mix of emotions. "My precious jewel," she whispers, her voice filled with love, "your strength and conviction inspire me. As you embark on this journey, know that you carry the legacy of Asteralis within you. May this union bring you fulfillment and the love your heart desires."

Tears well up in your eyes as you feel the overwhelming support and love surrounding you. In this moment, you realize that you have made a decision that aligns with your duty, your heart, and the aspirations of your kingdom.

As the throne room begins to settle, your father raises his hand, signaling for silence. The room falls into hushed anticipation, awaiting his next words.

"Let it be known," he proclaims, his voice resonating with authority, "that the youngest Princess of Asteralis has accepted the proposal of the Manda'lore. May this union bring forth a future of unity, strength, and prosperity for our kingdom."

The chamberlain steps forward, a scroll in hand, ready to record the momentous decision in the annals of history. With a steady hand, he begins to write, etching the words that will forever mark this day in the story of Asteralis.

And as the ink dries upon the parchment, sealing your acceptance of the proposal, you feel a surge of hope and determination coursing through your veins.

The path ahead may be filled with challenges and unknowns, but with the support of your loved ones and the resilience within your heart, you are ready to embrace this union and carve a future that blends duty and love, tradition, and personal fulfillment.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[inquisimer]

the answer will be an echo

Day 4 of @tranquilweek! As Cadash & Avexis investigate Redcliffe Village, they learn what became of the other Tranquil.

read it on ao3 here!

Avexis & Female Cadash | Rated T | 1139 words | CW: implied/referenced abuse, chantry critical

-

Cadash liked picking locks. It made Avexis wonder, as they waited outside the dilapidated shack in Redcliffe, if that was why the dwarf was always carting her places. She was a puzzle, an oddity—she wondered if Cadash simply saw her as a lock that could only be picked over time.

Well, she mused, thumbing the hilt of her dagger, hopefully she figures something out.

Being in Redcliffe made her itch. There were mages everywhere and odd magic on top of the rifts. It set her teeth on edge. The whole place was a disaster waiting to happen. Or maybe it had already happened. It was hard to say.

Their fear was as palpable to Avexis as her own. It hung in the air like a dense fog, coating her throat when she breathed and sitting on her skin like a cold, sticky sweat. Fear of the Templars, fear of the Breach, fear of the Tevinters and what their presence spelled for the mage rebellion.

Cadash grunted and the door clicked open, creaking ominously. Within, the cabin’s dirt floor was dappled with sunlight through the rotting roof.

“Why was it even locked?” Varric huffed.

They found out soon enough. Over a dozen skulls watched them from makeshift shelves, their empty eye sockets gleaming with Fade-touched crystals. Pointed stumps with odd runes etched into their ends were stacked against the wall and tipped over on the floor. When Avexis brushed her fingers across the runes, they flared a bright green.

For the briefest moment, she saw a face—square jaw, blank, gray eyes, freckles that sprayed up to the sunburst brand that marred his brow. Before she could dig up a name, or even where she knew him from, the vision was gone; the part of her mind that she knew was Cole slipped between her and the magic and whatever it meant.

And that meant only one thing. “Something's not right,” she murmured, skittering back a few steps. Cole was matching her rising panic with soothing comfort, but it was a cycle—the more he soothed her, the more she feared what, exactly, she needed soothing for.

She flinched at the too-loud crunch of parchment in Cadash’s fist. “That is fucked,” the dwarf hissed.

“I had noticed their disappearance, but imagined nothing like this.” Avexis could hear Cassandra’s scowl and that defensive mix of guilt and shame that the Seeker usually directed at her. A horrible realization was coming to her, sinking in her mind like boots in cold swamp mud. As if in a trance, she paced back to the shelf of skulls.

Varric coughed pointedly; she could feel his gaze boring into her. “Maybe we shouldn’t—“ he began loudly.

“It’s them, isn’t it?” she whispered. One hand cupped the smooth arch of a skull, thumb tracing the sharp edge of the dormant crystal. “We found the Tranquil.”

No one answered, not that it mattered. Their silence was all the confirmation she needed.

“Avexis—“

“Don’t,” she choked. Before she’d even taken a breath, her eyes glossed over with tears. She made no move to stem their tide. Her grief fell in heavy drops, each one sending poofs of dust up where it landed on the earthen floor.

Her other hand clasped the same skull and she stared into its empty sockets as though she could divine their identity that way. Who were you? she thought desperately. Did I know you? Is anyone missing you?

Of course not. No one missed the Tranquil. That was how this had happened; how the evidence of it existed right under the noses of the mage rebellion, and yet no one cared enough to know, or even ask.

Avexis trembled, an inappropriate laugh bubbling from her lips as anger ripped through her like an earthquake.

That should be me. Then, out loud: “I shouldn’t have— that should be me, too.”

“No.” Cassandra’s voice was closer than she’d expected and Avexis flinched. Her gloved hands caught the skull where Avexis’ grip left it bare and she slid it gently out of the mage’s grasp. Setting it back on the shelf, the Seeker put herself directly in front of Avexis instead.

“It should not have been you, and it should not have been them either.”

“Why don’t we mean anything to anyone?”Avexis whispered. She clenched her fists. “Why doesn’t anyone care?”

“Hey, we care.” That was Varric, and Cadash, coming closer as well but—thankfully—leaving the path to the door wide open. “We’re here, we see you. We care.”

“You see me,” she repeated, shaking her head. “As I am now. Would you still see me if I remained Tranquil? Would you have noticed that I was gone? Because apparently no one—” she gestured angrily to the shelves “—noticed them.”

Cadash caught Avexis’ fist in her roughened palm. “Hey. You’re right.”

“I—what?”

“You’re right,” Cadash said again. “The Circles used the Tranquil because they were conveniently controlled. Because the comfort of those in power was more important than those lives. Because they could.”

Her voice was steady and grounding. Though Avexis' sorrow remained heavy, the tension wound in her relaxed. She pressed her palm flat against Cadash’s and curled her fingers down over the dwarf’s blunted nails. As she searched her eyes for answers and assurances, the filtered sunlight shifted and caught the casteless brand burned into her cheek.

“But the Circles are gone,” Cadash said firmly. At her back, Cassandra scowled, but wisely bit her tongue. “We’re not putting them back unless we’re sure they can do better. For the mages, the Templars, and the Tranquil.”

Avexis exhaled slowly. She knew that was what Cadash thought, but it was good to hear her say it anyway. And yet—

“They’re still gone, though,” she whispered, nudging her chin toward the shelf of skulls. “They still died like that. Were murdered like that. It’s not something we can fix.”

“They were. And it’s not.”

“That hurts,” Avexis whimpered. She ground her teeth together. “It hurts, and I want it to stop hurting. How do I make it stop if I can’t fix it?”

“Sometimes, you can’t.” It was Varric who answered, but Cadash nodded. “Sometimes you just have to sit with it. It might never go away, but you’ll go on. And eventually, you’ll grow around it, instead.”

“That bloody sucks.”

Cadash snorted. “Yeah. It does.”

“Can we…” Swiping at her eyes, Avexis took a shaky breath. “I don’t want to leave them here. Not like this.”

“There is a Sister up the hill—“

“No.” Cadash cut Cassandra off. “We have time, and they deserve better than the Chantry’s biases. We’ll take care of them ourselves.”

Relief flooded Avexis where she hadn’t realized she’d grown tense. “Thank you,” she murmured, ducking her head. Cadash laced their fingers together and squeezed.

“Let’s go.”

[rillils]

so um, so maybe i'm addicted to prompt generators. that might be a thing. hm. *screeches into the void*

rating: T wordcount: 1378 tags: fluff, crack, established relationship, bearded Steve because i've got a soft spot for him, general silliness, dorks in love, domestic bliss, aaand that's it i think

If life was fair, and not plotting to give Bucky an inappropriate boner in the middle of a crowded beach, then for once Steve might deign to look like any average guy enjoying a hot summer day with his man; rather than, you know, put to shame the rest of humankind with his luxuriant, marble-carved, sexy lumberjack league, mouth-watering presence.

But nope.

He walks out of the ocean with seafoam lapping longingly at his ankles, looking for all the world like Aphrodite and Magic Mike had hot writhing sex right there on the shore, without ever getting a single grain of sand in any uncomfortable places, and nine months later he happened, with his thick thighs and his tapered waist, and droplets of saltwater gliding down the slick planes of his torso like liquid diamonds. (Which Bucky will stoically abstain from licking off Steve’s skin. Not because he’s feeling especially strong today, no – just so they don’t end up charged with public indecency. Again.)

Steve’s face, though, as he splashes eagerly towards him, is the face of a kid who just spent the better part of an hour frolicking about in the water, flushed and animated, ecstatic, and bearing the promise of one hell of a nap sometime in the near future, out of sheer exhaustion.

He seizes Bucky by the waist with his big wet paws, and presses a victorious kiss to Bucky’s mouth, nearly causing him to drop his ice cream bar. Yes, the one Bucky bought just so he’d have an excuse to step back, and enjoy the newly familiar sight of Steve Rogers having the time of his life, in the most joyful, delightfully mundane of ways.

He should get to be this carefree every day. Bucky feels very strongly about that.

“Come back in, honey, come on,” Steve cajoles, wearing the biggest, goofiest grin Bucky’s seen on him in months. Possibly since the day he caught this very man hurtling down their driveway on a hoverboard, at breakneck speed, obviously, because the original S.G.R. device only has one setting, and that setting is called ‘STEVE YES’.

Now that was an experience. It would have taken some pretty heavy divine intervention for him not to go crashing straight into the trashcans, Bucky considers distantly – and God must have thought it wasn’t worth the hassle, if the big oaf was just going to pick himself up and try again anyways.

“In a minute,” Bucky promises him. Because, while there might be a universe out there where he’s actually capable of denying this guy something he wants, that universe is definitely not this one.

“Come on, the water’s great!” Steve presses on, his meaty hands squeezing gently at Bucky’s waist, deliciously cool against Bucky’s sun-warm skin. He’s like a big puppy begging for another treat, buzzing with energy, glowing with it from the apples of his flushed cheeks to the sparkling blue of his eyes. He is, for lack of a better word, fucking precious.

Bucky slides his free hand up Steve’s chest, metal fingers stroking appreciatively over the dark whorls of his chest-hair. It’s ridiculous, how quickly he’s ready to give in.

“At least let me finish my ice cream, first,” he says, waving the thing under Steve’s nose. He could swear Steve’s ears perk up, like he’s only just noticed the little stick in Bucky’s hand.

“Oh,” he says, and it’s a pleased kind of oh. “Can I have some?”

“’course. Here.”

Rather than passing the ice cream over to him, Bucky just lifts it to Steve’s lips, inviting him to take a bite.

Eyes crinkled with some secret pleasure, Steve leans in. The thin chocolate shell breaks with a crisp, satisfying crunch under his teeth, the creamy vanilla filling kissing his bottom lip and lingering there, helpless, until Steve collects it with a slow sweep of his tongue, never one to leave someone behind. The soft mmh he releases goes straight to Bucky’s gut, warming him from deep within.

He smiles, like he’s been trying to hold back and he just can’t help himself anymore. “Is it good?”

Steve gives him the Look – the one he gets in his eyes sometimes, when the toe-curling intensity of his gaze tells Bucky that he’s thinking about them – them in their bedroom, stumbling their way through the door with groping hands and tangled legs, laugh slipping into moan slipping back around into laugh, or on the kitchen counter, making the cabinets shake and the bag of sugar spill everywhere, or in the broom closet, caught by a mid-morning frenzy like they were last Saturday, quick and frantic and muffling each other’s moans, as if somebody might have walked in on them any second. And they’re in public, so Steve can’t do anything about it; but Bucky can tell he’s filing away all the words he wants to say and saving them for later, when he can lavish them straight onto Bucky’s sweat-slick skin.

“’S nice,” Steve rumbles, gaze dropping to Bucky’s lips for a long, deliberate moment. “But I know something better.”

A sweet shiver rolls down Bucky’s spine. “Do you, now.” He palms the side Steve’s neck, thumb circling over the delicate skin behind his earlobe, and pulls Steve to him, meeting him halfway into the kiss. Steve’s lips part gloriously for him, the hot caress of his tongue slipping the taste of chocolate and vanilla into Bucky’s welcoming mouth, spiked by a thrilling hint of salt.

A few drops of saltwater drip from Steve’s beard to land on Bucky’s bare chest, and from there trickle down his stomach, skirting his navel to soak into the waistband of his swim trunks, following a path Steve himself has traced with the tip of his tongue many a time.

Only too soon, Steve nudges his chin into Bucky’s own, pulling away, and Bucky chases his lips for one last peck before he lets go.

Steve looks back at him, his eyelashes fanning darkly, thick with moisture. His eyes come alive with his smile, gleaming with the pure, blinding joy behind it. Openly adoring, they are, in a way Bucky couldn’t perceive any more clearly if Steve were spelling it out for him.

He thinks Steve knows (how deeply, desperately) he feels the same way. He thinks he should tell Steve more often anyway, just in case.

“You gonna join me, then?” Steve asks, all sun-kissed freckles and hopeful eyes, hands giving Bucky’s hips a playful little wiggle. Silly man. Bucky would reach up and pluck the sun out of the sky for him, if he only asked.

Bucky grins, and hopes it doesn’t scandalize any onlookers, with how obscenely fond it must be. “What about my ice cream, though?”

The curl of Steve’s mouth turns unexpectedly mischievous.

“Just hold it out of the water,” he says, and with no further ado, he swoops in to hook one arm behind Bucky’s knees and hoists him up, startling an undignified squeal out of him.

“What–! ”

Steve beams down at him, an almost manic glint in his eye. “Let’s go!”

And with the enthusiasm of an excited golden retriever, he goes bounding towards the glittering waves, kicking up wet sand behind them. Bucky grabs onto his broad shoulders, partly just to feel the firm muscle there, and partly out of a last-minute sense of self-preservation.

“Steve!” He calls out, laughter ripped out of his chest, sudden and shocking, as they splash a bunch of shrieking children on their path. “Put me down, you punk-ass manchild–”

“Nope,” says Steve, relenting only once the water’s reaching up to their chests. There, he stops, swaying gently with the tide, and shifts Bucky in his arms until he’s got Bucky’s legs wrapped around his middle, gathering him close. “I’m your ride for the day.”

And how could Bucky ever object to that? The ocean dances sweet and placid around them, warm under the midday sun, and the man he loves wants him here, tucked in the circle of his arms.

“Fine,” he says, pressing the word to Steve’s lips with a slow kiss. Fine, have it your way.

His last coherent thought, before Steve licks expertly into his mouth, is that they might not escape the public indecency allegations today, after all.

[ansbobcar]

EP 19 - A trip and a chat away

WORD COUNT. 1656

Link to overview

_ _ _ _ _

Did anything of note happen during October? Discounting the investigation and invitation to attend his family’s dinner with her partner in convenience, work and romantic affairs, nothing much. There’s no point in focusing on the dinner conversations as they play as before just with another person, namely the wife and child of the most beautiful and handsome man in the whole continent. Though it must be a feat that this man gets fed one of the most fulfilling dinners each night. What a goddess in the craft of cooking. The two could never hope to achieve even a fraction of this as their eyes and taste buds analysed the intricate rich yet balanced and flavourful dishes. Even the Autumn Market wasn’t worth discussing as the magical police handled it completely. If anything, there was just paper work this month and the typical meetings.

With Rinka having more meetings with the Director and being allotted time to try train the Ice Cane’s magical output. Her presence feels more and more like a ghost. Only a flicker in the hallways as he was stuck working. Maybe he should hit Joe’s competition again. It’s been a while, stepping foot into the bar.

“Oh! Here he is!” The old man gestures towards him for an unfamiliar silhouette. Clad in an eyesore of gold, with a high collar and bare chest for show. His eyes and posture lacked the redness and disorientation expected from how much he reeked of strong cologne and tobacco. With a cigarette bud at his fingers.

“The heaviest drinker you’ve met?” The dishwasher blonde pointed at him. He howled humorously at his appearance. “Really, Joe? A four-eyes?”

“Yes, that’s the guy I’ve been telling you about.”

Ah. “Do you want to challenge me in a drinking contest?”

“Duh!” he choked out. “I’ve been waiting for ya to stop by for ages!”

He took a seat besides him as shots were put on the table. “I wonder if I’ve lost touch.”

_ _ _

They both vomited simultaneously around round 43 resulting in a tie. ‘What the fuck.’ This guy drinks as heavy as him. If only they didn’t vomit simultaneously. Without batting another eye, the golden boy took out another stick and lit it with his wand.

“You gotta be joking,” Orter slightly slurred as he propped up his head with a hand. “You just barfed… on the fucking countertop, frat boy.”

“You did too nerd,” the challenger blew out a puff watching as he took out his wand and cleaned up the mess. “Joemama here really wasn’t joking with your weight…” His eye twitched with his lips forming a crooked smile. “You know… that means you gotta fulfil me a dare… right?”

“The same applies to you too,” as he gladly took the mug of water the old geezer had given him. “What’s your fucking name?”

“Just call me Adele, nerd.” Before he clicked his fingers to catch the man’s attention. “Oi oi, you gotta chick or sumthin’?” Why the sudden question? His brass eyes staring at his opponent’s piss yellow ones. “Joemama talked about how you always drank here until the summer rolled round,” nudging the hunched divine visionary’s side. “It’s gotta be a chick isn’t it?”

“Why would you care, Adele?”

“Because I want you to call her over,” he huffed. Eyes filled with mania and thrill. 

“She’s asleep.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can call her if that works for you,” taking out his rabbiphone which received a laugh. “The maker was rabbit obsessed. Give him a break,” as he searched for her name in his contacts and put the call on speaker. After two rings, she had picked up.

“... why are you calling me this late?” she murmured with a yawn.

“I ended up in a draw for a drinking competition with some frat boy called Adele.”

“... what round?”

“Round 43.”

“... ah…” He leaned onto the countertop as he waited for her slower replies to be constructed. “You must’ve met your match other than me… that’s nice to know…”

“She better than you?” Curious about her words.

He scoffed at this wonder. “Not even drunk… right, sunshine?” She hummed over the phone.

“Why? Does he wanna win against me?”

“Hell yeah!”

“... maybe another time…”

“Can you pick up your man? I wanna leave now~”

“... in 3 minutes.”

Heartlessly, he waved a goodbye to the two. “3 out of 3 stars for the experience, man!” Slamming the door behind him before Rinka, in a simple yet sheer night gown with her rustic robe tied like a cape around her neck, opened the door in her bare feet. “Let’s get you back home,” she muttered as she walked outside with his body draped over her.

The wind whispered into her ears as she looked around her.

It’s empty. With no trace of Adele in sight.

“A ghost perhaps?” she uttered before she raised her wand.

“That’s her?”

“...yes.”

_ _ _

It’s November 3rd and she had nearly forgotten about his birthday, almost going into tears at this realisation. She didn’t know what he liked other than working because she also liked working! She nearly got whacked with a sturdy book by Sophina when Ryoh brought up the topic over some tea. “You should spoil him!”

“With what, expensive wine? Champagne? I don’t even know what he drinks!” she moped. What about books? “Have you seen what he’s been reading the past year? Pure stacks of reports!”

“It’s the thought that counts,” her godfather tried to reassure her. “You’ll figure out. Maybe a photo album could work!”

And that’s how she ended up in a bookshop, in some random town about 2 towns away from the Bureau, blankly scanning and flipping through a book she plucked out of curiosity before placing it down. Unless the Desert Cane was into a potions making book, she didn’t really have a point of reference as she placed back the book and quickly found a familiar book.

‘This is the anthology I had to learn for Language Studies,’ she reminisced before a hand reached out to grab it. With a white robe entering her vision and a creepy grin etched in pride, it dispersed as they locked eyes. More dishevelled looking hair, two straight lines and sunglasses. “What are you doing here?”

Without batting an eye, she craned back her head towards the shelf, “Picking out a book for your brother.” Was this town closer to Easton Academy? It’s been a while since she’s gone there.

“Then you’re looking in the wrong section,” he replied, pointing over to a different section, “He’s into encyclopaedias.”

RINKA: Really? I always see him reading short story anthologies…

WIRTH: That’s because he’s addicted to reading

“Atleast. That’s what I know,” he murmured under his breath as she walked over towards the section. Maybe she could ask him a bit more, being brothers had to mean something to an extent. Holding up a book titled, “The encyclopaedia of fruits,” she asked the taller teen for his opinion. “He’s already read it.” Resulting in it’s immediate shelving. 

The only thing she confirmed with his younger brother was his obsession with reading. Nearly 15 solid years of pure unadulterated reading seemed to be his special skill and world record.

‘Should I choose this?’ Enjoying the pictures and interactive sounds included in the book. ‘Or this one?’

“Are you done already?” He snapped her out of her decision making. “I need to pay.”

‘The Music Encyclopedia should do,’ she put back the other one. ‘He needs bigger font anyways.’ Only to gawk at his stack of books piled into a tower and a quarter at the counter, she only had 2 items. “Your semester hasn’t ended yet has it?”

He sighed at her question. “It’s mostly for the honour roll exam.” Of which only 3 have successfully passed the exams.

“That will be 7,500 lond.”

He was short a few coins, he huffed. ‘Now I have to--’ She took out some coins to finish the amount before quickly paying for her own books.

“Where was I?” Attempting to recollect her thoughts. “The books, and then--the honour roll exam,” she seemed elated as they walked in tandem. His towering stack perfectly hovering just behind them. “Wasn’t that over the summer?” It got postponed. “Is that so… I remember the teachers encouraged my to try it since it tests your application and understanding of all concepts of magic and human-made studies like language, medicine, and politics even… but I dropped out of school before I could take it,” she snickered at the memory.

But Wirth, the taller man beside her---years younger than her---was shocked by this fact. How in the world was there a Divine Visionary who didn’t graduate high school?

“When did you drop out?”

“In my 3rd year.”

“Why?” A mix of anger and resentment traced his voice. “You were so close to graduating,” he argued watching she calmly took in her surroundings, noticing the melancholic gaze she had throughout it all.

"This was before the Bureau made it compulsory to complete high school for Divine Visionaries,” she began to half-heartedly explain. “In short, I prioritised and preferred the Bureau over Easton at the time. So I naturally just dropped out." 

To think that his older brother was dating someone so powerful without even completing her magic education, ‘he really is something.’ But that probably means she also caused that rule to get instilled in the first place. “Nobody opposed it either,” she muttered before they came to a halt at a bridge. This was the way back to Easton.

“Oh yeah, thanks for paying the missing amount,” he bowed slightly towards her. “I can carry my stuff from here,” flicking his wand for his totem of supplies. 

“It’s fine. Just make sure to send a letter to your brother for his birthday,” waving him goodbye. As if he wasn’t…

_ _ _ _ _

HAHAHAHAH OKAY GUYS I'm gonna be super frank I just started writing EP 24 (it took be like 3 weeks to finish EP 22) so you will probably get up until EP 23 since I am stressed over school work :D But it's okay, I'll be back to updating by then! (Just won't have the overview updated for 3 weeks - v - )

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS I AM DEAD INSIDE

[rafent]

Ew. She's not a stranger to being blood splattered, but that doesn't stop her from grimacing a little when she does find Rafal, hair almost tinted pink from everything covering him. At least he didn't smell like his knight had.

Speaking of knights, Yunaka keeps her expression casual as she takes a seat next to him. She turns to face him, cradling her head in her hand in a way where it might block any wandering eyes from immediately spotting their discussion.

"So, our alleged ally had a lot she wanted us to know about the so-called responsible." Their alliance was never called off after the beach island, and she feels better having someone else to count on than carrying all this information in her head by herself.

Labyrinth pocket magic. A council. Weapons and pieces and...her head hurts.

But more importantly... "She said she was the one who grabbed us." Which means she was also the one who left so many of their friends behind. Waning power or not...Yunaka felt her hard not to ignore the rage rising in her throat at the thought.

"She didn't know the state of the others. Sorry."

What small presence of life the dragon's terrifying aura failed to repel, his bloodied form served to compensate if not double down. By due of spattered wolf and bird blood, sullied hair and clothes may as well be pesticide to all buzzing, noisy intrusions; valuable crowd control in a bunker with no end to population. In short: all just as well. He much preferred the sanctity of his own personal space. But, that aside, it was not deterrent for every manner of individual.

That Rafal should be approached in this state was clue enough toward the identity of his brave and eccentric visitor. A single calm brow raised only as Yunaka slid into seat beside him, easily as if it were her place; she key and he lock. So too did he adapt.

"Our only alleged ally. In other words, you are not perfectly certain of her allegiance or how well her word warrants trust?" Slender knuckles held firm around hand towel, continuing to swab away at patches of blood-crusted skin, collar bone, neck. Slower, save, to signify his listening: "You unlike the Divine One are far from naive, Yunaka. I need not point out the foolishness of taking stock in dubious intelligence."

Yunaka was not naive. Yunaka was not naive, so there was still value in word that she had judged useful, even sourced from their so-dubbed alleged ally. And if it were by that ally's doing that they licked their wounds here in surviving secret, perhaps that spoke further volumes of the idea that she was not an enemy. For now. Thirdly, it was not any such stranger of this or that fickle nature that a skeptic like Rafal trusted. No, it was more so that he trusted—

"I see." Cold, furious, affected, unfeeling. None of these things at all, his dispassionate expression did not waver an inch, an inscrutable mask of ice that allowed for nothing behind it to crack and breach.

". . .And? Did she speak of anything else?"

Of all movement, only a twitch of his vacant hand.

[hiddenobject-fanblog]

His Soul (Chapter 10)

Show and Tell

Summary: After saving the abducted collectors, you were trusted with Curioso's box. What seems like a dangerous possession slowly turns into an opportunity to learn more about this creature and his curse. Can you earn his trust, and possibly, his affection?

Pairings: Curioso/Reader, Curioso/The Detective

--

It took a bit of searching on your end, but you finally tracked down a translator who was able to make any sense of the book. You had reached out to several other people for a week, all of whom sadly informed you that they couldn’t understand it. Still, you remained determined and you were glad your patience finally wore off.

You were sitting in a small office across from a woman who wore a blue suit. Her eyes were wide as she read the book that you left open on her desk. You were still dumbfounded with the news she’d just given to you. 

“You can really read that thing? I haven’t met a single person who could.”

She nodded and leaned back in her seat. “You see, Detective, I used to delve into magic - divination back in my day. This book was written by an enchantress. I recognize the spell that is decrypting it from normal eyes.”

“Huh…” Your mind went back to the time Curioso disabled a concealing spell on that house in your last case. Had he done the same thing to this book to make sure Andrew couldn’t read it? “Are you sure it was an enchantress? Not a…creature of some sorts?”

“Her name is written right here. I can translate this for you, but I’m afraid it will take some time.”

“That’s fine; I’m in no hurry.” You waved your hand. “Just…do you know what it is?”

“Instructions, I think,” She rubbed her chin as she observed the pages. “But what they say and what they are for…I will have to get back to you on that.”

“Great. Just call me on the phone when you make any progress - I’ll pay you in advance.”

She stopped you when you stood from your chair, her eyes lit up in fascination. “I am curious, where did you get this book? I have never seen anything like it.”

“....A friend of mine gave it to me. I’d like to know what it says.” 

“Very well. Expect to hear back from me in a few days…thank you for such an interesting job. I will have fun translating this.”

You stood and dusted off your pants, relieved to have finally found someone for the job. You were antsy to know what this book contained…if she was right, then they could possibly be instructions for Curioso’s box. You desperately needed that, as you couldn’t keep relying on him for its codes and instructions. He lied to you about that before and you were sure he would do it again if it benefited him. 

You handed over some cash and shook her hand, already wishing time would move forward. 

-----

You returned to your office and sat down in your chair. If Curioso sensed that you had the book before, then he must know it was out of your possession now. When you looked up, you found his box lighting up from your shelf. A sign of his presence.

Before he could say a word, you beat him to it. “I don’t have it. Are you happy?”

“Did you destroy it?” 

“No. Just…loaned it to someone. I’ll get it back, but I still don’t know what it is.”

Mist pooled out and you found the projection of his mask greeting you from across the room. He tilted his head. “Who did you give it to?”

“A magician,” You spread your hands out theatrically. 

You thought he might take it as a joke, but that didn’t happen. “You’re smarter than you look, Detective.”

You narrowed your eyes with skepticism. “You still don’t want to tell me what it is? Even if I don’t have it with me anymore?”

“You should have gotten rid of it, that’s all I’m telling you.”

You paused. Something just occurred to you that you should’ve thought about before. “Just a silly question here, but…it’s not going to kill me, right? Or bring a sudden end to the world?”

“Only an end to mine.”

You jumped out of your seat. “It’ll kill you!?”

Curioso laughed really hard. It made you feel ridiculous as you slid back down into your seat. Your face was as red as a tomato for overreacting the way you did. 

“How kind of you to care about me..! But, no. That won’t happen. I’m sorry.” 

You groaned and tried to hide your face. “Believe it or not, I actually WANT you here. Otherwise, I would’ve given you right back to Andrew.” 

“Yes, that’s right. You want me here as part of your things …your collection. Your memories.” 

“No, I-” You were getting flustered over this and you didn’t know why. “I want to get to know you. Isn’t it obvious that’s what I’ve been doing?” 

“You don’t need a book for that. You can ask me all your questions, Detective. I don’t really have anywhere else to go.” 

Your face was still hot and your heart wouldn’t calm down. Something about this conversation was embarrassing you. You grabbed a piece of paper from your drawer and took a deep breath before walking over to Curioso’s box. You held it up and prepared to enter the correct pattern, then you hesitated.

“Do you…want to come out? I mean, if you’re not still mad at me?” Your voice was timid. 

“I always want a breath of fresh air.”

You gave a wryly grin. “You wanna’ watch me do paperwork? Do all the boring detective stuff?” 

“Please. The anticipation is killing me..!”

You chuckled and let him out of the box. The same bright flash ensued and he was standing before you again. You rubbed your eyes as you stumbled back over to your desk. It felt like getting your picture taken with the flash on. You wondered if there could ever be a way to change that. 

“Take a seat anywhere, you can explore my office. Just don’t touch anything.” 

You sat down and grabbed a pencil, preparing to do some work. To your surprise, Curioso didn’t stray very far and instead perched himself on the edge of your desk. He really wasn’t in the way of anything, but his close presence made you nervous. His set of sharp teeth was closer to you than you were comfortable with. 

“There’s another chair right over there,” You pointed across from your desk.

“Ah, but this is annoying you, isn’t it? He grinned. 

“It is, actually. Yeah.” 

“Then I’m not going to move anywhere.”

“Fine."

You began filling out paperwork in spite of his close proximity. You pretended he wasn’t there and you were just doing some work as usual. You were actually able to get a bit done. You paused to stretch your arms and crack your back, suddenly remembering Curioso was right beside you when you accidentally smacked your elbow on him. 

“Whoops - sorry…” 

“I like your name,” He whispered.

You blinked twice before glancing back at the paperwork and found your first and last name signed on the sheet before you. You hadn’t thought he was seriously paying attention to what you were doing. Who in their right mind would willingly watch someone fill out boring papers instead of looking at pictures of your heroic cases? Curioso, apparently. 

“Ah, thank you,” You grew warm again and cleared your throat to change the subject. “So I can ask you questions, right?”

His voice was dramatic. “I guess you can.” 

“Apparently, that book was written by a woman. Do you know who she is?” 

“...” 

“Her name is in there. I’ll be able to find it soon. Is she someone I should get into contact with?”

“NO!” He exclaimed loudly into your ear. 

You flinched and nearly stumbled out of your chair. He noticed your state and withdrew into himself, moving away from your desk and into the seat across from you. He was deliberately trying not to face you.

“Alright, geez.” You rubbed your ear in pain. “So, she’s nobody I should know, apparently?”

“Detective.” His voice cracked. Your heart broke at the sound. “Don’t dig any deeper than you already are. You’re keeping that book despite my wishes - please listen to me and never find that woman.” 

It felt like you lost all your strength. “Okay…I won’t. I promise.” You waited a second before adding, “Can you at least tell me who she is? Why is she so bad?” 

“Patience is a virtue.” He tapped a robotic finger on the edge of the wood. 

You wanted to groan and throw a fit, but now wasn’t the time. He sounded like he was on the verge of crying. You didn’t know if that was possible or not, but you didn’t care to test it. Your eyes traveled down Curioso and you realized you’d never gotten such a good look at him up close. Observing him for too long hadn’t been your goal back at Andrew Collins’ house. You’d been too preoccupied worrying about him getting into anything to really study him before. 

He wore a blue-and-red jester costume, but it was torn in places and had many holes in its fabric. It was also dirty, like it’d been through hell and back. His top hat was in a similar condition, torn at the ends with its colors dull. When you looked at his hand, you found holes, scrapes, and cuts on his mechanical digits and palms. Even his mask, when he turned to look at you, was damaged and missing pieces of its decoration. 

You never noticed how… rough he looked. Like he was something someone had left outside and forgotten about for years - equally as damaged from the weather as he was from the neglect of his owner. Pity swelled in your throat. 

“Are you alright?” The jester queried. 

“I remember you looking a little different,” You confessed. Something was off about him…he was missing those little hats on top of his big one, and you swore he was more colorful before. “Did something happen?” 

“This is how I’ve always looked.” 

“But..” You leaned forward and squinted your eyes. You probably looked ridiculous doing this. You didn’t care. “Your mask isn’t supposed to look like that, is it? Your hands…they’re all damaged. Did…did something hurt you?”

He promptly moved his limbs out of your view. “Just wear-and-tear. I’ve been around for a long time.” 

“When we were in your box-” You pointed at him, the memories flooding back to you. “You looked perfect. Your mask was glittery, your clothes were bright, everything was fine…what happened?”

“I can bend anything to my will there. Anything I want.” His voice grew quiet. “Even myself.”

“You mean you made yourself look like that?” 

“Do you ever want to relive your glory days?” He threw his head back and grinned widely at you. His teeth still remained pearly white and as sharp as always. The only part of him unchanged and intact. “That’s how I used to look. I’m sure you remember a time when you were young and full of energy…” 

You shook your head and sat back down to give him some space. “Alright. I don’t know anything about your kind. But I’m going to assume that’s normal unless you tell me otherwise.” 

“Completely normal.” He insisted. “If you had to wear the same clothes everyday, you’d look just like me after a while.” 

“I don’t have holes in my face or my hands,” You pointed out. 

Curioso slouched in his seat. He clearly wasn’t happy that you were pressing this as much as you were. “They’re artificial. It’s not me. Not really.” 

“What do you mean..?” Why was it always a guessing game with him? Why couldn’t he explain anything to you? “Curioso, I don’t really understand what you are. Can’t you just tell me?” 

“I wish I could, but even I don’t know what I am.” 

“I still don’t understand…”

“What is there to know? I’m a jester in a box. I like collecting human souls and exposing their dark secrets. That’s all there is.”

“I don't think that’s the case. What were you at the carnival?” 

You could’ve sworn his smile grew smaller. He must’ve thought you’d forgotten about that detail, but you didn’t. He confirmed himself that what Andrew said was true. If you couldn’t find out WHAT he was, then you could at least learn where he came from. 

“I was a jester,” He responded. “Telling jokes, making fun, you name it.” 

That , you could believe. But it felt like he was only telling a half-truth. “Really? With all your powers, you only told jokes?” 

“They were good ones..!” 

“Tell me one.”

“ ‘Why don’t cannibals eat clowns? Because they taste funny !’”

“Yeah, there’s no way you were telling that to kids.”

“Maybe I didn’t perform for kids..?”

Now you are getting concerned. “Curioso-”

“-Honest, Detective! I was an entertainer at the circus. For both adults and kids! They loved my show, I’d been doing it for a long time.”

You went quiet as you tapped your pencil on your desk. You were neglecting your paperwork now, but you were far more invested in learning about your friend. Not many people could say they've held conversations like this one. 

“Did you like it?”

He sounded strained. “Of course.”

“Then why did you come out of your box angry? Why did you threaten Andrew? If you loved what you did, why did you want revenge-”

He did something you did not expect - which was to learn towards you, pinch your cheek in between two white fingers, and pull a little too hard.

“You’re so nosy.” He hissed. “Must you know EVERYTHING?”

“Ow!” You swatted his hand off and rubbed the red spot left on your skin. “You said it yourself - I’m a detective. It’s in my job description.”

“Hmm. And you’re putting together the mystery of my past ?” You swore you saw a small flame flicker in his mask’s eye socket. You blinked twice and it was gone.

“If you’re going to make it this much of a challenge, then I might as well.”

He tittered. “You’re so fun. That’s why I like you.” You blushed at his words and scolded yourself for feeling so flattered. “I suppose I can help you solve it, but…you may find things that you don’t like. Are you okay with that?”

“I found a room full of bodies in my last case.” You shuddered at the image left in your mind. “I’m sure that whatever it is, I can handle it.”

He hummed, looking at you for an awfully long time. Then, he said, “I’ll tell you when I feel that you’re ready.”

You wondered when that was going to be.

[aziraphales-library]

hi! i was wondering if you had any pining/love confession fics with a flustered!crowley and an aziraphale who’s the one to iniate the encounter to recommend? if it’s not too much trouble :]

Hello! Please check out our #pining, #love confessions, and #flustered crowley tags for more fics like this. Here are more for you...

Smile by Fallenangel_Winchester (NR)

There's a smile that keeps appearing on Aziraphale's face that Crowley can't figure out what it means

lover, be good to me by cuips_not_cute (T)

Crowley’s heart thudded. “Should we be as drunk as we are, angel? I can sober up, if you’d like.”

“No. Don’t want to be sober.” Aziraphale paused for a moment then said, “Wouldn’t have the courage.”

Crowley stilled. He knew that whatever was said next would change things. He just wished he knew how.

“Crowley I—” Aziraphale took a deep breath, preparing himself for something, glancing over his shoulders like he was making sure they weren’t being watched. At last, he spoke again in a voice barely above a whisper. “Crowley, my dear, I love you.”

if i could make the world as pure (and strange as what i see) by fathomlessblue (G)

It’s a cold, quiet night. Inside a warm, stuffy bookshop in Soho, what starts as another bout of their usual bickering might just be the catalyst both angel and demon need to finally tell each other the truth.

After six thousand years, a happy ending is the least they deserve.

Goose Chase by Benjito (T)

Aziraphale can feel traces of love, and when he's overwhelmed by its lingering presence at his bookshop, Crowley is desperate to throw him off.

A Midsummer Afternoon's Curse by cyankelpie (G)

(Aziraphale is the victim of a love spell, and needs Crowley’s help to break it. Which is a problem, because it’s very difficult for Crowley to focus while Aziraphale lavishes him with affection.)

The rest of the sentence got knocked out of him by a large, off-white blur that flew out of the door and tackled him. “Crowley,” said a familiar voice, though the breathy fondness and affection in said voice was anything but familiar. “I knew you’d come.”

Oh. It was Crowley. Crowley was the target of Aziraphale’s magical infatuation. Aziraphale wanted Crowley’s help ridding him of this newfound affection for Crowley.

And Crowley, who somehow needed to be the level-headed one in this situation, was utterly fucked.

Familiar Creature by improfem (G)

In the aftermath of the non-pocalypse, Crowley struggles with returning to a 'normal' life. How do you decide what work is worth doing, and which habits to keep, when you're a disgraced demon? Meanwhile, Aziraphale has issues of his own, namely: How on earth do you define the difference between divine and personal love, and could online dating be the answer?

- Mod D