#i once saw someone calling them the star siblings

[2802sen]

Go and live your happy life. And I will take care of this.

DRDTTOBER DAY5: Royalty

[edensfixations]

hehe imagine if Deku had a twin sibling who was a big Hawks fan (but is more low-key about it) and coincidentally had a recessive quirk that gave them 2 pairs of retractable wings

AHH i LOVE these platonic au's!

we're going bullet point form!

• izuku has a twin sister? 🤨 her name? isaki!!

• isaki, just like her brother, doesn't hold much height! she's around 5 feet tall, very defensive about it! she's got the same green curly hair but longer! she has freakles and glasses (courtesy of her reading late at night in the dark and unlucky genetics.)

• anyway, contrary to her brother, she has a quirk. she got it when she was five and absolutely went batshit crazy when feathers sprouted out of her back a random saturday morning. she ran straight to izuku and he was no help whatsoever. he screamed louder than her!

• over the years her quirk has grown and developed! for a bit she ended up randomly floating causing a massive panic to her mother and amusement from her brother. her wings had grown into large black wings that resembles a crows.

• she's gained many nicknames from people. from her mother, dove. from her brother, saki and raven! katsuki however calls her shadow for an array of unfortunate reasons but at least she doesn't get the same treatment as her brother!!

• when the midoriya twins turned 12 a new hero made his way onto the scene! an 18 year old with his own company??!?!? suddenly in the top 10 in only 6 months???? WHAT?!?

• hawks having an amazing reputation like this immediately after debuting had him have eyes on him constantly! and isaki wasn't any different!

• while her brother was OBSESSED with all might since they were kids, she had only idolised him a bit. he was 100% her biggest inspiration and thought only the most highly of him but she never wanted to be a hero until she saw hawks! I mean she practically bounced off the walls when she saw someone with a similar quirk!

• over the next 2 years she had slowly built a merch a collection, a pathetic one really because she mostly used her pocket money for food and books while her brother never really used his money for anything but all might!

•her merch collection includes a few posters, 3 hoodies, an action figure and a bobble head as well as some limited edition sneakers that she'll NEVER admit she qued overnight for.

• similar to her twin brother, she also keeps a little notebooks. she however keeps about 4? 2 for hawks and 2 for everyone else. after deciding she'd like to follow her quirkless brother and his deranged frenemy to ua, she starts assessing some of her favourite heroes, namely hawks and his techniques and how to utilise them.

• so from ages 13-15 you'll just see an isaki midoriya flying around in her backyard practicing moves she learnt from hawks via the internet.

• when izuku had started his 10 month intense training with a mystery man izuku hadn't told her about, she decided to start her own 10 month training. hers however contained a gym and her doing combat training with whoever was training there too and up for it! there she met tenya iida! story for another time.

• however, about 5 months into her training, she had particularly drained herself that day. because of this she was barely paying attention to her surroundings. it was quite a shock to her when she had been suddenly grabbed from the ground and sped off about a block away when where she once was!

• who was it? pro hero hawks of course! naturally, isaki was completely star struck. she could not BELIEVE who was standing in front of her right now!!! she was barely listening to him warning her to watch where she's walking so she doesn't get run over by a car (she walked into traffic, whoops!) she snapped out of trance when she heard him say, "nice wings, kid" before he was gone.

•isaki flew home and screamed into her pillow!!! she couldn't believe that happened! HE COMPLIMENTED HER WINGS!!!!!! she was so close to him! practically hugging him! (delusion)

• upon her screaming her mother and brother enter her room, curious, afraid and wanting answers.

• she looks up from her pillow, pink faced and hyperventilating, "HE SAID I HAVE NICE WINGS!!" her wings start fluttering creating a small breeze. it's a small habit she picked up from when she was little. her little family chuckled at her words. "Who??" "That guy from the gym??" "NO HAWKS. I CAN DIE HAPPY."

• isaki is now laying on the ground while her brothers jaw is slack and her mother leaves, giggling to herself.

• "YOU MET NUMBER 3 HERO HAWKS??!!" "YEAH WHEN I ACCIDENTALLY ALMOST WALKED INTO TRAFFIC!!!!" "WHAT?!"

• needless to say, she wore her hoodie and limited edition sneakers to bed that night.

(pls send requests I loved doing this so muchhhh!!)

[remotepixel]

headcanons for platonic peter parker who wants to be your brother sooo bad

AAAA ok i want to say thank you so much for requesting !!!!!! i was literally so excited when i saw it lol.

I set this around Homecoming but didn't specify too much.

TW: yandere themes!

I imagine Peter always wanted a sibling.

-As a bullied, ‘weird’ kid, he grew up wishing he could have someone to hang out with when no one else wanted to.

-Of course, his parents always said no (since it obviously isn’t as simple as young him thought) and he never pestered May and Ben about it, too busy grieving and learning the struggles of money, but the idea lingered well into his teens.

-And, when he met you, he couldn’t help but think maybe God was granting him his wish.

He would be very clingy (to put it simply).

-If you’re in the same school, he’ll make you sit with him and his friends at lunch, walk you to and from lessons, anything to keep himself glued to your side.

-If not, he’ll be constantly checking his phone, texting you 24/7 (or calling you if he can), to the point I wouldn’t be surprised if he got a couple detentions for it.

-He acts like being away from you is the worst thing to ever happen to him.

-Like if doesn’t get a constant reminder that you’re not ignoring him and you’re just busy he’s gonna drop dead.

Outside of school, he would normally invite you around his house to build lego Star Wars or binge old movies no one else your age knows.

-I think he’d really like having things only between you two - like an inside joke or a project you work on together - both because he has an excuse to talk to you, and because it makes it seem like you’ve know each other your whole lives (something he wishes desperately was true).

I imagine Aunt May seeing you two hanging out one day, squabbling about how to properly ensemble the last piece (he’d probably go with your judgement no matter what though), and tells him something along the lines of ‘stop fighting with your sibling’ as a joke.

-The way Peter’s face would just be 😯 before breaking into a massive smile that permanently stays on his face for the next month.

-Like, even Aunt May agrees that he’s your brother, that's basically the same as her adopting you, yeah? no-

Peter is a bit delusional if you couldn't tell.

-Like, the way he constantly called Happy because he convinced himself that it was gonna go through eventually? Yeah, you’re getting the same treatment.

-He assumes you feel the same even if you so much as look at him (I bet he’ll think it’s some ‘sibling secret code’ and look at you in the same way so it looks like he understood).

That isn’t to say he’s ignorant to your emotions though.

-He copies your feelings in a way - like, if you’re sad, he’ll be as well, if you’re angry at something, he’ll be angry, etc.

-He isn’t one for violence but I don’t think he would care if Spiderman webbed/roughed up a few people who were annoying you (I don’t think he’d do much more unless you were in serious danger or he got too caught up into his feelings like in no way home).

I can’t believe I didn’t mention this before but he would be so jealous if you actually had (a) sibling(s).

-Like, he’s supposed to be your brother, but now he has to compete with people who know you so much better than he does? People who get to live with you and say you’re related without getting funny looks?

-(He lied to MJ once and it immediately backfired- he just wanted someone to actually think you and him were siblings, ok? Is that really a crime?)

-I don’t think he would have it in him to be outright mean to them, but he wouldn’t be overly nice either, just neutral enough to hide any jealously and not get banned from seeing you.

He tries not to come across as pathetic (don’t tell him he lowkey is-) but he’s never had much of a family before. Sure, he has Aunt May but everyone else? Dead, just like that.

Siblings is a whole new world for him and he just wants to be there for you, be your role model like Stark is for him, and prove that he can be the best brother ever.

I have re-read this but my tenses might be messed up </3

[baileypie-writes]

I'm sorry for all the asks for family requests but can you please do some of Velvet and Veneer protecting their preteen sister? Maybe from a bully?

A/N ~ Sure! And don’t worry, I don’t mind the requests:) Hope you enjoy!

And remember: if you’re being bullied, please tell someone. I promise you, somebody cares. In fact, I’m one of those somebodys.

~You’re Safe Now~

Velvet and Veneer + Preteen!Sister!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Familial

Synopsis: You’re being bullied, but thankfully, this time your sibling save you.

Warnings: Reader getting bullied(verbal and mentions of it being physical), minor violence, swearing, Reader crying.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You let out a sigh of relief when you finally heard the school bell ring. Grabbing your backpack, you rushed out of the classroom. Your eyes darted around the halls as you made your way towards the front doors of the school.

When you were outside, you booked it to the side of the building. After confirming that you were alone, you finally let yourself calm down.

You can’t remember the last time you were able to peacefully make it through a school day. Each time, this group of boys would come and harass you. The’d say every insult under the sun, making fun of you for the smallest things. Things that you couldn’t control, like your looks.

You thought that telling your teacher would make it stop. You were unfortunately very wrong. After they got punished, that’s when the beatings started. You no longer felt safe at school, and you’re worried that they’ll follow you home one day.

Thankfully though, your siblings, Velvet and Veneer, were picking you up today. You haven’t seen them in a while, so they were going to take you out to eat and have fun. You were so excited, that you’d forgotten about your bullies. But all the memories came back once you saw them turn the corner.

Oh shit.

“There you are. We’ve been looking all over for you!” The leader, Jackson, called to you. His four other friends trailed behind him. You swear you’d rather have the devil himself appear in front of you than having to deal with these son of a bitches.

“What do you want?” You asked, trying to hide the fear in your voice. You failed miserably.

“Watch your tone, bitch.” Jackson pushed you, making you fall onto your back. You hit your head on the hard concrete, and you felt tears start to well up in your eyes. But you sucked them back in.

“My siblings will be here any second, so you better leave!” You yelled back at them. You were hoping that that’d scare them off, but that thought was shattered when you heard the boys snicker.

“Please, if they’re anything like you, we can beat both their asses no problem.” He grabbed you by your shirt, lifting your upper body off the ground. “Speaking of which…”

Jackson raised his fist, and you braced yourself for impact. You were already thinking of excuses to tell your parents. Maybe you should tell them you fell again. Or maybe that you got hit with a ball at P.E.

A loud honk snapped you out of your thoughts. You opened your eyes that were previously squeezed shut. All the boys’s attention were focused on a car that had just turned the corner towards the school. It was Velvet and Veneer’s car. If you weren’t being held, you’d probably jump for joy. You never thought you’d be so happy to see them in your life.

The car screeched to a stop, and your siblings hopped out of it. You’d never seen them so mad.

“Whoa. You guys are, like, those famous pop stars right?” One of the boys asked.

They didn’t respond. Their focus was solely on Jackson.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing to our sister?” Velvet asked. More like demanded.

Jackson let go of your shirt, making you fall back onto the concrete, and hit your head again. You let out a yelp of pain. The moment it fell from your lips, Veneer rushed over to you, leaving the yelling to Velvet.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking more concerned than you’ve ever seen before.

“Yeah.” You said, barely audible. You looked back over to Velvet. She had her phone out, and a flash came from it.

“I just took your picture. If you ever do anything to (name) again, I’m posting this on all my social media accounts. Your asses will be finished.” She had the boys backed up against the wall. All of them looked ready to piss themselves. The moment she stepped back, they bolted away so fast, you swore you saw a cloud of dust form behind them.

Velvet scoffed, and looked over to you. You could tell she was trying to hide her concern, but she wasn’t doing a very good job. Veneer helped you to your feet.

“What was that? Are they bullies?” He asked. You just nodded. “How long has this been going on?”

You didn’t respond. You were so overwhelmed, that you began to uncontrollably sob. Your siblings were surprised by your sudden burst of emotion, but after a moment, Veneer gave you a gentle hug. Velvet, not knowing how to comfort people, just placed a hand on your back. They both let you cry it out.

~~~~

After the whole event, Velvet and Veneer took you out to eat at your favorite restaurant.

You ate your food slowly, being tired from all the stress and crying. Across the table, Veneer was trying to gather enough courage to bring up the whole bullying thing. Velvet, tired of waiting, spoke up for him.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” She sounded really upset.

“I tried telling people already. That just made them start hurting me.” You said, avoiding eye contact.

Veneer decided to speak as well, now that the subject was brought up. “But we’re your family. We can help you!”

“Look, I’m sorry okay? I was just so scared at what they would do next!” You raised your voice, making them jump a little.

“How bad was it?” Veneer asked after a moment of silence. You looked so traumatized, he almost didn’t want to know.

“They… beat me up a lot. And they make fun of me. I don’t feel safe at school.” Veneer felt his heart break for you. That’s when the anger caught up to him.

He turned to Velvet. “I want you to post those pictures.” His tone genuinely scared you.

“Oh, I already did.” She said, expression unchanging. Veneer gave her an almost menacing smile, and turned back to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry sis, you’re safe now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[imaginesbymonika]

“Shame” (Part 4)

A Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader fan fiction / someone else joins the story...

Plot: For the last four years, Y/N and Pedro have been dating in secret. The fear of rejection has turned them into a mystery that could only be encountered in yearning looks on red carpets or hands that are touching one another briefly. However, for the longest time, things have been working out that way just fine. But now Pedro's agency wants him to have a PR relationship with another woman and neither Y/N nor Pedro is sure if their love is going to survive that.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, feelings of cheating, grief and eating disorders

Masterlist

She stares at Pedro from across the crowded room. That's where the two of them are, relationship-wise. She gazes at him like he is a tempting stranger in a bookshop. Melissa's hands are drawing circles on Y/N's boyfriend's back while she whispers something into his ear. A sigh leaves her lips, it feels strange to call him that. Even though it was true, he used to be Y/N's boyfriend… no, he still is her boyfriend, right?

"You're not seriously asking me that!" Y/N had no idea, what facial expressions Pedro was doing because her eyes were concentrating on the floor. On the black and white tiles, where there was a minuscule crack in one of the black ones right beneath her chair. Has it always been there? Like some bizarre fucked up foreshadowing, just waiting patiently to be discovered.

"Are you even listening to me?" All she has ever done was listen to him. She nodded her head. "Y/N. Please.", she hears how he moves closer and after a few seconds, he kneeled down in front of her:" Look at me, darling." She really didn't want to, because she understood very well that the moment she did she could no longer conceal her feelings. "I love you, okay? Nothing has changed."

And when she ultimately raises her head, she noticed it in his eyes. The first time she saw that emotion was when she first met his siblings. Pedro's oldest sister made this desert and he declared that he really loved it. That he would need her recipe and that he couldn't wait to eat it again someday. Late on, he told Y/n that he lied. Simply because he didn't want to hurt his sister's feelings.

Pedro didn't want to hurt Y/N's feelings. And she let him.

Y/N swallows thickly before she turns her whole body back around. "Is everything alright?", a voice asks from behind her and she figures that it has to be one of her co-stars. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine.", the y/h/ced woman responds, without looking at them:" I just thought that I saw someone that I know, but turns out I was wrong."

The man chuckles:" Happens to me all the time. Not only do I have a really bad memory, but my eyesight is super crappy. Which is just a poor blend of important things." Y/N wrinkles her forehead and turns around. Only to be met by two very kind-looking eyes. "Oh my- I am so sorry.", she hides her face behind her hands for a moment, before looking back at him:" I thought, that you were one of my friends. That's so rude of me." Y/N immediately holds out her hand for him to shake:" I'm Y/N." "Yeah, I know.", he states, and when he touches her a shiver runs down her back:" I'm Matthew Gray Gubler. It's nice to meet you."

And that's when she senses it. For the first time in a long, long time. Y/N doesn't have to turn around to know that Pedro's eyes are lingering on her form. Something about this situation makes her feel like a criminal, but truthfully, she couldn't care less.

"So, are you nominated tonight?", Matthew asks, and takes a sip of his wine. His eager gaze is not once leaving hers. She shakes her head:" Oh, no. But the show is." "Barry, right?", a laugh escapes his lips:" I'm sorry. Of course, that's the show. I'm sitting here, pretending I'm not a huge fan of it and- of course, you." Y/N bites in the inside of her cheeks, while she notices how his eyes move down her face. She clears her throat and he echoes it.

"Anyway.", he says and crosses his legs, while the lights in the room dim:" It was nice talking to you, Y/N. Good luck." She nods:" Yeah, it was. Thanks." Matthew only tears his eyes off her once the room goes completely dark, and there is this sensation in the pit of her stomach that feels so unbelievably sinful and good at the same time. God, she's in big trouble.

[embeanwrites]

Car Karaoke (Jamie Tartt x GN!Reader)

A short little piece I wrote after singing very poorly in my car. The reader is gender-neutral!

Jamie had gotten used to driving around with them in the passenger seat. 

It started as him trying to be nice while returning to Richmond. The lads seemed to enjoy their company, they were someone Keeley had brought in to be her “eyes and ears” on the ground at Richmond to work on different PR projects, and the boys had essentially adopted them as almost like a younger sibling figure.

At first, it annoyed the crap out of Jamie. Now there was someone new around that only had bad opinions of him, someone else he would have to convince and fix his self-image with. But almost instantly he realized that wasn’t the case. He was positive that the team had at the very least warned them about him and his actions, but he never had a moment where he felt like they were judging him or already knew more about him than he had shared. 

It was nice. It was like a fresh start one that he didn’t feel like he necessarily deserved until he saw them walking home in the rain. 

“Oi!” he shouted, his voice fighting the sound of the rain. The look on their face was almost priceless if they weren’t soaking wet and shivering like one of those tiny rat dogs. 

“Oh! Hi Jamie!” They said with their normal cheery voice, once again stunning him stupid. 

“Get in my car before you get sick and die on us!” 

Since that day they had soaked his seats and raved about how he needed a car with heated seats, even though it was dead summer, he had been driving them home. And for about 15 to 20 minutes a day, the two of you would be in his car. 

He has ranked his favorite types of times in the car in his head. 

The last of which, is ones in silence, which had only really happened the first week. 

Next would be the ones where he spends the whole ride talking, normally ranting about something Roy had said to him at training. He did appreciate how they’d silently listen.

The runner-up would be the days when the two of you are just chatting. He found himself enjoying their stories and the random questions they had for him. However, some of their strange hypotheticals threw him off. 

Oh, but his most favorite. His favorite of them all is when they would sing along to his music. 

The only issue, which he didn’t view it as one, is they weren’t the best singers. Jamie wouldn’t even call them good, but for some reason it made him feel so trusted. Their off-key notes, singing unbridled with fear from him ridiculing them. Never had the others heard them sing, they had always bowed out during karaoke night with the team, and as far as he could that was the only opportunity anyone else would have had to hear them sing. 

So their bad out-of-tune singing was reserved just for him. Or maybe that was his wishful thinking. That you and him were closer than anyone else and that you trusted him more than anyone else and it took about three months of him driving them for you to stay anything about it.  

“Listen, if I ever bother you with my singing you can always tell me to stop.” Jamie took a moment to glance over at them. They were looking down at their feet, their cheeks an adorable shade of pink, and he couldn’t help but wonder whatever gave them the idea that he would want them to stop. 

“Why? I think you’re a great singer.” 

“Great is definitely wrong, but I appreciate it, Tartt.” They said, sarcastically. 

“No, I mean.” Jamie took a deep breath. “Okay, yeah, you’re singing…it’s rough, but! But! I like it. I like that you are comfortable enough to do that around me…it’s nice.” He finds himself cringing at his honesty as he pulls up in front of their flat. He takes a moment to look at them. They’re blushing, but they’re also staring at him like he’s hung the stars in the sky. For a split second, he wonders if it’s less about his words and more about the fact he’s the one who said them. 

He finds himself really hoping it’s the latter. 

“Oh well…that’s kind of you Jamie. I really do enjoy our car rides.” They said with a goofy smile on their face. “Maybe…maybe sometime we can hang out outside of just you taking me home? Only if you want to though! We absolutely don’t have to if you don’t want to! I just-”

“I’d love to.” He interrupts before they can spiral anymore. “I’d really love to.” He watches their face become even more red as they nod. “Maybe we could go karaokeing.” He teases, wanting to see just how red their face could become. 

“Oh fuck off, Tartt. Besides that’s like…5th date material.” They tease. 

“Well, I’ll be holding you to that then.”

[radicalrainbow]

Hi bestie! I hope you had a good Halloween :3

I would like to know more about HotRod, and Spaz.. like do they have jobs? Music taste? Sibling dynamic? Fashion wear? Favorite shows? Just anything really ^^

BOY DO I HAVE SOME INFO FOR YOU BUDDY!!!

Spaz and HotRod are quite close as siblings!!

Spaz is 29, being her older brother while shes currently 25

Theres a big part of HotRod's story I can't put here as I plan to make a post about it specifically <3

Spaz-

Spaz got his name from Greaser, specifically when he took notice of the tentacles of the parasite twitching and spazzing as it grew more awake after birth

Spaz has a parasite, like most greaserfresh fankids

He IS the parasite, but to better understand will be addressed as "the parasite"

When he was born he was mostly a parasite, while yes he did have his normal skeleton body, and his consciousness was present in the parasite, aka True Spaz if you want to call it that <3

The parasite took up the entirety of his ribcage when he was born, enveloping his soul, his skeleton body being unresponsive till it grew enough for the parasite to move to his skull! It wasn't bad or anything, the body was usually limp but they knew he was fine

He was also born without emotions, just like his father, making it difficult to understand his needs. Yet he eventually grew into having them once he was able to speak with proper words.

He sometimes switches back to that state of no present emotions at short intervals, at complete random, and usually only happens from a few minutes to an hour

FunFact: His design was inspired by Max, Son of Goofy and the main character in the Goofy Movie & Extremely Goofy Movie

Spaz is more like their father Greaser, flirting with others to simply get into their pants and have a good time, with no real feelings behind it. Usually, he's off at a bar when he's out of the house.

While he's more introverted, alcohol and weed pull him out of his comfort zone, he has a bit of a reputation, good or bad depending on who you talk to.

He always listens to music, usually rock and roll or heavy metal, and tends to read magazines as he does. Spaz does not have an ecto tongue like many, the parasite sitting lower in his skull and taking up the place of his tongues with its tentacles, making his tastebuds much more sensitive, which also leads to lower tolerance

HotRod-

HotRod is a well-known baseball player, number 12 of The Sparks!! She's been playing since she was a child, working restlessly to build up the skill she has now as a star player ever since she first picked up her dad's bat one day

HotRod was the problem child everyone loved, getting into trouble for the fun of it, and was greatly encouraged to explore the multiverse the moment she was old enough!

She has an ex-boyfriend named Jeffery, who she met in Underfell when she was a teenager, a typical bad boy, he really only dated her because he saw her as a trophy, especially with the strength she had.

*cough cough* This will be explored more in a different post, but HotRod has 12 LV, making her the strongest in her family in LV

HotRod experiences LV spikes, also known as "magic overload syndrome" which occurs due to gaining LV or not expelling it in everyday life, whether it's working out, fighting, etc. Its only more common to happen to those with above 10 LV, such as Dust, or Killer for example.

If she doesn't take care of those spikes, she can get violent, high risk of attacking someone, and an inability to control her emotions. And not just that, but it also makes her run HOT, you could almost see the steam rising from her hair. Her magic would crackle, she'd be constantly irritated, jittery and out of control if gone to far And one of the more key factors of LV spikes she has, is her magic lighting up around her joints, sparkling and dripping with liquid magic like lava.

If not dealt with it can deal physical damage, but thankfully shes been able to work through it.

She has the ability to summon her bat at will, its her basic attack if she isn't engaged in hand to hand combat. She also has the ability to focus her magic into her bat, to hit harder, to cause serious damage, and send people flying depending on the intent she has in the moment of using it.

[eloise175]

The Twin Terrors

Two out of my five headcanon calliope kids, along with some of their traits and background! And some crumbs on the other siblings as well if you squint. (Special thanks to @kuroneko1815 who heard me out on my rant about them lol)

Callisto was ecstatic when he saw that the twins’ hair color was the same as Penelope’s; he insisted that the eye color complimented their pretty hair color.

Just like their mother, the siblings have a love for expensive things, especially rubies and emeralds, (blame their father, Callisto covered them in emerald jewelry since they were literal babies).

Growing up, Dante will start to resemble his father more and more, while Eden will take after Penelope with looks.

The twins wear ‘coordinated’ earrings. Dante’s earring has a star, that he wears on his left ear, while Eden has a moon earring on her right ear.

The gold earrings were actually Callisto’s and Penelope’s, but when the twins were born, the married couple immediately knew the earrings would suit the children better. It was a toss on who’d get the star, and who the moon, but in the end with Judy’s and Kayden’s help, they settled for the current arrangement.

Turns out the choice suits the twins nicely since Dante is more outgoing, therefore ‘as bright as a star,’ while Eden can be more secluded, which alludes to the different phases of the moon.

They also have ‘complementary’ moles of sorts. The position of the moles actually defined the placement of the earrings, Dante has a mole under his left eye, and Eden has one underneath her right eye.

Dante is the only one out of the two that has always had dimples, however growing up, only the dimple on the left side remained. The dimples come from Callisto and his mother (whom I decided to call Eleanor), whom had dimples on both sides, while Callisto has only one on his left side.

Dante is the oldest of the two, and takes every chance he gets to rub it in Eden’s face, which consequentially gets him whacked on the head.

They show their love by beating each other up, it’s just how they are.

Chaotic middle children.

Walking potty mouths. The ‘no cussing rule’ only worked on Judith and the baby of the family, Rigel. Kayden can and will curse, however he chooses not to, he has more ‘fancy ways’ of insulting people, but Dante and Eden are the foul-mouthed duo of the family. Sometimes Callisto’s crude language pales in comparison to the twins’ appalling choice of words. The only time they don’t curse at all is in front of Penelope, mom is a scary being that should not be angered in any way.

Stick together like glue, where one goes, the other follows.

They will get angry if someone assumes they like the same things, aka the dumb stereotypes that always follow twins.

Once at a party hosted by a noble, someone tried to serve a meal that had a big amount of peppers in it to Dante just because Eden likes peppers; Dante ended up grabbing that servant by the collar of his uniform and threatening him, because he has a strong dislike for raw peppers after he got sick as a child after eating some. The only thing that stopped the servant from getting sucked punched was Judith’s interception of the whole thing.

People refer to them as ‘The Terrors’ because personality wise, they’re basically copy and paste of Callisto’s more brutal tendencies. (Reynold was the one that started referring to them as that, however he means it in a playful and teasing manner, he loves the two gremlins to death).

Literally the karma of shitty people, because despite all of this, the twins only go after the bad and questionable ones.

The two of them aren’t mean, in fact they’re very nice, kind and playful once you get to know them. A good example of the people present on Eden and Dante’s hit list are the ones exactly like Gloria Kellen and her fetch dogs, aka the bullies.

The twins are the equivalent of ‘the hot cheeto girls’ when it comes to defending someone from bullies.

Out of the two, Dante is the more volatile one. He’s the one that picks fights the most out of the five Regulus siblings. The altercations are usually put to rest by Kayden, and when his older brother isn’t there to stop him, Judy will try to placate Dante.

Dante is very irritable when it comes to people he doesn’t like, and won’t hesitate to call someone out on their bs.

He gravitates more towards swordsmanship, and has a collection of all kinds of swords, which are his pride and joy. Some of them he forged himself overtime with the help of his father; you can find any type of sword you can think of in that collection, from normal ones to magical and very powerful ones, to ancient sword relics.

Dante combines magic and swordsmanship, and has this one special attack of ‘flying swords,’ it helps that some of his swords are somewhat sentient thanks to the magic he imbedded into them with Penelope’s help.

Oftentimes he can be found training with Kayden and Callisto, who teaches them everything he knows.

On the other hand, Eden is the more ‘docile’ of the two. People usually would rather deal with Eden than with Dante because they deem her more well-mannered, when in reality they should watch out when it comes to her.

Eden is actually more of a ‘behind the scenes’ kind of girl. Cross her and she’ll dig up any and every information on you in under an hour. Give her 20-40 minutes and she’ll have your entire life’s events at hand.

She’s the blackmail girly, and has her own special ways of making people talk when she needs/wants something, ways that actually don’t include any sort of harm, at least not physical.

Eden is in fact, a telepath, who also makes use of telekinesis. I’m talking about literally eradicating trees and yeeting them at someone if she’s testy enough, all of that without breaking a sweat. She could be sipping tea while controlling random objects to do all the work for her.

All of the Regulus kids have an inkling for music, and each has their own designated instrument. Judith plays the piano; Kayden has his cello; for his brash nature, no one would expect Dante of all people to play the violin, but he does, and he’s pretty much a prodigy when it comes to that; Eden has her beloved harp and lyre; Rigel plays the flute, and later on, he also picks up on how to play the guitar.

Speaking of talents and hobbies, Eden can be found very often in the kitchens trying out some of her recipes. The kitchen staff are some of her favorite people.

The Head Chef is always the first who tries her dishes, (yes he’s the test subject), this man has went through food poisoning because of little Eden’s very dubious deserts, yet he’s still the first who offers to try out her weird concoctions. He’s pleased to see her improvement as she grows, the Head Chef is basically an adoptive uncle at this point.

Judith and Callisto are the ones who get the finished, improved and actually edible result to try out firsthand. They have no idea Eden gave the Head Chef food poisoning a few times, and are giddy with the fact that they are the first to try her dishes, ignorance is bliss after all and Eden couldn’t agree more, she doesn’t have the heart to tell them the truth.

Penelope knows of this and has tried quite a few times to coerce the Head Chef out of his ‘test subject’ occupation, however he insisted on it, and Penelope settled on designating a special doctor for the poor man. However, she does find amusing Callisto’s and Judith’s giddiness whenever they boast about being the first to get to try Eden’s food.

[that-one-kiddo-in-the-back]

This video is about Star Wars... apparently.

Once again, if you don't know me, I'm what Lily would refer to as a Star Wars weeb. I live, breathe, and shit Star Wars. You got it? Good. Let's dig in.

Now, this can't be a Lily Orchard video without her complaining about the thing she claims to love. Now, I have my own problems with the sequel series, mostly that I found it boring and a wasted opportunity to do something a bit different and interesting and felt that they pushed a black man to make room for a white woman. Hell, my siblings even told me that for a week, it was just none stop complaining about Disney owning Star Wars I think the only reason I started to go a bit easy and shut up was when star wars rebels came out but I'll get into my own acceptance of Disney canon in a separate post.

To her credit, she talks about how universal Star Wars is, how it has something for everyone, and if you're someone like me a shit ton of stuff to take all of the money from your account but now we come to Lily not understanding how things work.

She goes into a rant about how streaming services are killing movies and just regularly TV watching, which is true, yes. She's uses Matt Damon's views on streaming she then talks about her all-time favorite movie and the reason she pushes for low stakes storytelling from that time period called John Q. From 2002 which if you don't know, it's about a father who holds a hospital hostage at Gun Point to get them to help his son, who needs a life-threatening heart surgery.

Despite the title, this video has nothing to do with Star Wars. it's more about streaming services with a spit of Star Wars. From 8:37 to 14:48 is nothing about Star Wars and all about streaming and low stakes over high stakes. Despite that, I would argue that John Q, while being more a personal movie of a father desperate to save his son, is a high stakes situation. High stakes storytelling isn't just "The fate of the universe is at risk," and low stakes storytelling isn't just personal drama. John Q stakes are pretty high with taking an emergency hospital hostage where everyone could die if not treated, and the best case scenario for the main character is his son getting treatment while he goes to prison and the worst case being he dies with his son. I hate to break it to you Lily but the movie you say is your all time favorite is a fucking high stakes movie.

Finally, getting back to fucking Star wars. She brings up how Star Wars is a pretty low stakes series simply because of how the story is overshadowed by the family drama that is the Skywalker family, which is turn. I would say that Star Wars can be pretty low stakes, but I wouldn't stay that it is. She talks about clone wars, the "patron saint of the annoying darkness obsessed Fanboys" (A.K.A me) has plenty of episodes of that dig deep into the rot and corruption of the republic and the jedi order but that those are dwarfed by the focus of Anakin and Ahsoka's relationship pointing out that that episode was the series most hard hitting to the fans which is true anyone who watched that episode can tell you they cried their eyes out but that's mostly because that really left an impact on Anakin and one could argue is that's what really made him question the order and when you go back to watch Anakin's descent it makes it all the more heart breaking.

We all know Lily hates serialized TV that's no secret or surprise she'd much rather watch a sitcom over anything else, but the thing is, but she treats serialized shows as moldy bread using the Ahsoka show as an example of losing characters and losing moments for the story to breathe and the fun episodes that do nothing but flesh out a character never mind the fact that Ahsoka and Sabine don't need to have their character fleshed out we already saw that in rebels for Sabine and CW for Ahsoka. I find it kinda funny that she doesn't like the Ahsoka show when that was the lowest stakes show she could ask for a teacher and a student getting back together to help find Ezra while 2 dark side users are also trying to find him so they can find Thrawn hell she even has some lesbians to obsess over but they focus on the force for to long and has too many samurai references dispirit the fact that...

The Jedi are basically samurai!

The jedi takes inspiration from monks and Samurais, so no Lily. Dave filoni isn't some secret Weeb. Blame Lucas if you have to

Something I found interesting is Lily using M*A*S*H and other sitcoms saying they have some depth to them, but we her critics can't see that past the laugh track saying how her favorite All in the Family did a good job talking about drag queens while taking a dump on Rocky horror for their drag queens. Now I haven't seen all in the family or Rocky horror (and I don't plan to), but I have seen M*A*S*H, which is a good sitcom it's pretty funny and a prime example of "laughter is the best medicine" or "if you don't laugh, you'll cry." If you don't know what M*A*S*H is, it's a 70s (1972 to 1983) sitcom that takes place in a medical tent during the Korean War with most of the episodes being about the main group of characters trying to go home but whacky hijinks get in the way the show is all dark humor. Little fun fact if you didn't fall asleep during history class, M*A*S*H was made three years before the Vietnam War had ended, so people didn't care for it until 1974 and you don't have to he a genius to know why it's loved now.

Lily’s main problem with Star Wars is that she's living in the past and won't move forward, and she can't expect that not everyone likes what she likes. Sure, Solo was a flop, but there are still some people who like it.

There is no such thing as peak fiction also applies to Lily herself.

She missed an opportunity to use avatar

[stomach-bugg09]

omg thank you for doing my request!!! i absolutely adored it, dw im from the east coast myself (new york specifically). if it’s okay, i’d like to request more modern day sullys and fali? i just love your take on them.

a/n: ahh !! thank you so much. ( east coast gang rising up !! ) anyway , yes i actually think the modern au is just so simple but so cute and fun to write , which is also why i'm publishing this request before some of the older ones. i want to be able to keep feeding you all while i develop ideas and fics for the other ones. hope you enjoy !! reblogs + feedback is always appreciated !!

tags: @liyahsocorro @bonnibuckets @wxnderingthoughts @pinkhotdogsfr

modern au headcanons for the sullys + fali

general

one of the most chaotic families out there

trust me when i say this

when any of the kids have friends over, the guests are always shocked to find out that they ever manage to get anything done

there's always someone being a problem ( lo'ak )

tuk is the "do it all" child

like soccer, lacrosse, dance, school plays + musicals

she totally ate as an oompa loompa in charlie and the chocolate factory jr.

the older siblings all took a picture with her while she was in costume

[y/n] has an epic 0.5x picture of her from that night and is saving it for her graduation

[y/n] has the most baby pictures and "baby's first christmas" ornaments / type stuff just because she was the first child

neteyam has a good bit, so does kiri, but lo'ak and tuk have barely any

you can tell that they gave up on parenting tuk because she's such a menace

the whole entire family is banned from pizza hut

they refuse to speak on the topic

after neteyam and lo'ak played jv basketball together, kiri and [y/n] worked together to rewatch all the film and make a compilation of all their funny moments

tbt to when lo'ak completely missed the basket during a free throw

to present it, they gathered the entire family into the living room and pretended it was serious

but as soon as the video started, the two girls could not hold up the act and ended up on the ground in tears as they laughed at the entire thing

lo'ak and neteyam were not amused

jake was totally losing his mind

he loves making fun of his kids ( affectionately )

you can always tell neytiri's mood based on what she's listening to when she cooks dinner

a podcast means she's feeling good, feeling productive - sad music means she's, well... sad - classical music means you must stay far away from her

kiri, [y/n], and neytiri have their periods sinked up

it's complete hell for everyone else

once jake came home from work late and saw them sobbing on the couch to an episode of how i met your mother

sometimes the siblings will all sit down and have tuk paint their nails as she just talks the most amount of shit about every kid in her class

it's literally the funniest thing

she has some serious issues

kiri and [y/n] both like reading but the difference between the two is that kiri actually reads and [y/n] has five different books sitting on her bedside table

when she does have a random burst of energy to read, they always swap books

the head boys lacrosse coach is the biology teacher and he loves the sully family

he also teaches forensic science

not only is [y/n] dating his star player, but she manages the team

plus neteyam is on his team

sometimes, during their lunch period, fali and [y/n] just roll up to his class ( the same period that lo'ak and tsireya have bio )

ao'nung also plays basketball, so him and lo'ak were literally always beefing until they randomly just became friends

and then it was chill!

[y/n] and fali also drive tsireya and ao'nung around quite a bit, but they don't mind

everybody trusts fali and [y/n]

they're the type of people that you call if you need anything ever

kiri and neteyam have definitely called their sister or fali during a party after realizing they needed to get home

once neteyam's old friends left him there with no ride and he was... not all that sober

fali was at the same party because lacrosse team!

this boy did not hesitate to leave with neteyam and bring him back to his house

neteyam called his parents and pretended he was sleeping over with ao'nung ( who helped cover for him ) and ended up sleeping in fali's guest bedroom

every day kiri collects random ideas for her future speech as [y/n]'s maid of honor at her and fali's wedding

[y/n] still doesn't know

neteyam has an entire shoebox full of memories with his big sister that he plans to give her before she moves out

panic ensues the household when they reach june / graduating month

they do not want to think about their first baby leaving the nest!

neytiri is such a sad frantic mama

just wants everything to be perfect for her baby

jake ensures her that it will be

moving on to more happy stuff!

neytiri is totally a swiftie

like a very serious very loyal swift or that knows every single song and every single album and every single word

owns her ugly merch but it's okay because it makes her happy

tsireya's favorite candy would be watermelon jolly ranchers and she always has them in her backpack and stuff

lo'ak started to also keep watermelon flavored things in his backpack when he first started crushing on her

he would give her some during bio

her smile was always worth it

[y/n] and fali have the cheesiest and cutest way of reminding each other that they love each other

and that would be by giving each other their last piece of something

like they would give each other their last oreo, their last piece of gum, their last hershey kiss, his last name

it's just a silent exchange of their infatuation for each other

everybody else watches as they contemplate leaving because of how lonely they make them feel

kiri makes the silliest birthday posts

like she absolutely exposes every single one of her siblings by posting their ugly pictures on her instagram story

and she isn't even nice enough to keep it on close friends

lo'ak and [y/n] have a super long streak on snap chat of like 600+ days

and they are constantly scared of losing it

tuk takeover happens on a rare occasion in which, every few months, one of her older siblings allows her to do their streaks

she usually manages to post something stupid on their stories or something, but all of their friends have learned to look forward to it

fali and [y/n] were friends for a year before dating, but half of that year was spent with them absolutely crushing on each other

their first kiss story is so embarrassing and they refuse to tell anyone about it

fali wears bracelets that [y/n] makes for him

he always wears the bracelets that tuk makes for him and they're the cutest things because it's just a random assortment of beads

fali probably has a like single piercing on one of his ears after losing a bet with his friends

but he's grown to love it

he always has to take it out for lacrosse because the helmet is a pain

[y/n] buys him cute little earrings that he refuses to wear because they're always silly

like, "no, [y/n] i'm not wearing a singular waffle earring."

the only earring from her that he wears is the earring that matches the ring he gave her on their one year anniversary

she gave him that earring for his birthday

he almost cried

[ourtearsofrain]

Chapter 7- Catching the Stars

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Genre: angst

Word Count: little over 1 k

Warnings: minor violence, once again talking about death of parents

--------------------------------------------------------

“You know her, Polaris-?” Danny starts, hurt dripping from his words as his mind scrambles, hoping his worst fears weren’t true.

Helena whips around, stalking over to him and slapping him across the face, hard. Her nails have been sharpened into claws, leaving three clean cuts against the smooth skin of his left cheek.

“You will speak when spoken to.” She spits.

Samuel lunges forward, attempting to shake off his captor’s grasp to get to Helena. This earns him a blow to the stomach, and he doubles over in pain as he wheezes to regain his breath.

Helena turns back towards you, ignoring the events that just unfolded as she grins at you.

“How long has it been since I last saw you, hm? Oh right, when I plunged a sword straight through fathers’ stomach.”

She laughs as angry tears come to your eyes, threatening to spill over as you looked at her with all the hate you had in your heart. Jake, Danny, Samuel, and Joshua’s jaws drop as they realize your connection to Lady Helena; rage overtaking Joshua and Samuels features as Danny and Jakes expressions contort into ones of hurt and deceit.

“Was Helen not good enough of a name for you? Or did you just not want to slander mother’s name, as you were named after her.”

“Lady Helen just doesn’t have the same ring to it as Lady Helena, don’t you agree? You’re one to talk, Polaris. Isn’t that what they called you? Consider your sister, Helen, dead. Lady Helena killed her when she killed our father.”

“Was that before or after I gave you that scar? Heard you have told people it was from a ruthless pirate lord. Barely able to escape with your life, right?”

She grabs your chin, intentionally digging her nails into your skin.

“You will say nothing more if you know what’s good for you.”

You control your expression, not allowing the pain to appear across your features as you look down at her. She lets go roughly, using it to push your face backwards as she turns towards the others.

Helena knows exactly how to hurt you most, and she grins as she looks between the four men.

“I would love to know how you all feel about Polaris and I being siblings. I assume they didn’t tell you that crucial bit of information by the looks on your faces.”

Samuel is the first to speak, each word hurting you far more than a blade ever could. “Fucking traitor. I knew we should never have trusted you. Didn’t I tell you, Jacob?” He looks at his brother with rage burning across his face.

Jake says nothing as he stares at the planks below him, trying to blink back tears and keeping his gaze away from you, knowing the second he allowed himself to look, they would surely spill from his eyes.

“Jake, I swear, I had nothing to do with this. I haven’t seen Helena in years, I have no loyalty to her.” You beg, trying to keep your own tears at bay as you watch his heart break.

“Liar! You suggested this island, you brought us here to die!” Joshua yells, equally enraged as Samuel was.

Helena rolls her eyes. “As much as I’m enjoying you berate them, you give them too much credit. They aren’t lying, they are no ally to me. They are, however, a fucking hypocrite.”

She stalks over to you, her expression one of almost hurt as she looks at you.

“I offered them a place by my side, to be my right hand. And they fucking turned me down like I wasn’t offering them the best opportunity of their life.”

She turns back to the others with anger in her words and across her face. “Only for them to jump at the next opportunity to join someone’s crew.”

“I didn’t fucking choose this!”

Your yell causes her to turn to face you once more with shock written on her features.

“You attacked my town, destroyed my home! They saved me from the attack, I had nowhere else to go.” Angry tears roll down your cheeks as you breathe heavily, surprising everyone with your outburst.

Helena looks past you at the pirate preventing you from lunging at her.

“They’re coming back with us to my ship.”

She turns towards the others, sizing each man up.

“Now, what shall we do with you all?” She makes her way over to Jake first, and she tilts his face up to make him meet her eyes.

"You must have been the one to save them, huh?" He says nothing as she grips his skin. "How's that knee holding up, by the way?" She flashes him a grin before swiftly kicking the side of his right knee.

He screams in agony as his leg gives out, the pirate behind him preventing him from dropping to the deck for any relief as he holds him, forcing his weight onto the leg.

Helena grasps the front of his shirt, yanking him forward until their faces are an inch apart. "Still glad you saved them?"

She releases him roughly, shoving him backwards towards the man holding him as his step falters, his right knee still weak from the blow.

She walks over to Samuel next, bringing her hand up to caress his cheek as she slyly smiles.

“Oh, I quite like this one, I think I’ll keep him.”

Samuel spits in her face. “I would rather die.”

Her face contorts with rage as she wipes it away. “I think we can arrange that.”

Before anyone can process what’s happening, she nods slightly to the man holding Samuel, her face serious and cold.

The man raises his fist, bringing it down hard on the back of Samuels head. He sags in his arms, crumpling to the floor.

Both Jake and Joshua try to rush for their brother, the large pirates holding them preventing them from doing so.

“SAM!” Danny lets out a broken sob as tears began streaming down his face. He lunges for Helena, earning him the same blow to the back of his head. He too goes limp, falling to the ground with a loud thud.

“YOU MONSTER!” You scream, struggling in the pirates’ arms to reach any of them; Helena, Samuel, and most importantly, Danny.

She rolls her eyes with an annoyed sigh. “Oh, don’t be melodramatic. They’re not dead, only unconscious.”

“Why not kill us?” Joshua spews angrily.

She walks towards him, stopping only inches from the man with a sweet grin.

“Because, killing you all is too easy. I would much rather have my fun with Polaris and Samuel, leaving the rest of you driven mad not knowing their fates.”

Jake speaks next. “We will hunt you down.”

“With only the three of you? Your crew is dead. You’re not leaving this port for a very long time, Jacob.”

With that, she nods to the pirates holding the twins, and the last thing you see is Jake and Joshua joining their brothers on the ground before everything goes black.

--------------------------------------------------------

A/N: the title, of course, is taken from the lyrics to The Indigo Streak

[moonmeg]

Hold up! Did I miss something?! At some point I think I remember that you said that Ian might have a partner in the future. But now in the last ask you just casually revealed teir name! Did I miss something? Did you already talk about a partner or will that be in the future? I miss Ian anyway so I'm thrilled.

After a busy day Ian, once again assigned market-duty for he's the best salesman in the family, packs up all products.

He sold majority of what they had to offer. His charisma was a fantastic aid in the sale. Any of his siblings would've been thrilled had they achieved this. Ian, however, saw no reason for feeling that. It was always the same. Majority sold, conversations with the people, smiling and pretending all is well, unrequited love and just another "great night". He was so tired of it.

Blair fell in love young and was happily married for over 20 years now. Same with Neil. Keith had a loving husband. Maisie too. Heck, even Edan was a sort of father to that lonely girl he found in the hay after a storm. They all had something he didn't and it became more and more difficult to fight his envy. He didn't want to be that kind of brother. He wanted to be supportive and joyous. His siblings were happy...

Maybe he just wasn't meant for it. Maybe he'll never be good enough to be more than just someone to keep the bed warm. Maybe he should just give up at last. He was in his mid-thirties by now. How much more hope can there be left?

He sighed as he placed the last box on the wagon.

"Wait!"

Ian turned around. The call came from an approaching black haired person. Although the hair seemed more blue-tinted in this light.

"Wait! Oh no, please don't say I'm too late!", they came to a halt.

"For the sale?"

Catching their breath they didn't answer right away. They cleared their throat and looked up at Ian, immediately mesmerized at the sight

"Wow- I mean-", another throat clearer, "I'm new here and heard about this stand and I meant to get my groceries but damned little me of course got caught up in something else and then of course I mixed up your closing times and I'm so late now, aren't I?"

Ian couldn't form and answer in his mind. He simply stared perplexed, trying to process the flood of information this stranger just shared.

"Damn it!", the stranger cussed out frustrated.

After a moment of silence Ian met the icy blue eyes of the stranger. He wanted to say something but caught himself thinking about the beauty those eyes had to them instead.

The stranger sighed and already opened their mouth to speak but Ian interrupted.

"We're here everyday. Ye can come by tomorrow."

"No, no, you misunderstand. Today was my only free day for buying groceries during opening hours."

"Oh."

"Well, maybe you can tell me if there's some other place I could-"

"There's some stuff left. If ye tell me what ye need I'll pack a bag for ya.", Ian gestured at the wagon.

"You would?" the strangers eyes lit up, sparkling at Ian like a sky of stars.

"Aye. I only need to know what ye want.", Ian gave his typical cocky grin.

The stranger searched their pockets hurriedly before handing Ian a piece of paper with a list. Ian began to read the products from top to bottom and drew a spell circle to insert all items in a bag. He let the bag float over to the dark haired stranger and let them take it.

"We dinna sell herbs so that's missin' but otherwise here ye go.", he commented.

"That's fine! You did more than enough already! Thank you so much!"

"Ah not worth a mention."

"No, I mean it!", the stranger beamed, "How much do I owe?"

Ian eyed as they brought out a small linen bag of snails. The metal coins clinking inside upon any movement. Accepting the payment now would mean redoing the snail log and possibly even recalculate the change box. He really didn't want to do that now and delay his return home further. Moreover though, there was something about this dark haired stranger with the icy eyes and sunshine smile before him. He couldn't quite explain it but he thought them likable. He'd sworn off romance but who said anything about romance. It could just stay a nice acquaintance. A friendship in the best case.

"It's on the house.", Ian smiled.

"What?", the stranger stared with big eyes.

"Welcome to the town."

Ian gave no room for argument. He climbed the wagon and already took the reins in hand. Perplexed by everything that was happening the stranger called out a "Wait!".

"Mr. Bower, I assume? I-"

"Ian."

"Ian, I... I don't know- I...", trying to sort their thoughts and form a coherent sentence the stranger yielded to a sheepish smile, "Thank you. Just... thank you."

Ian smiled.

"Ye're more than welcome, ...?", he raised his eyebrows, gesturing he wanted the name of the stranger too.

"Oh, right, sorry. I'm Val."

"Ye're more than welcome, Val. Lovely makin' yer acquaintance.", Ian winked in his usual manner before slowly bringing the wagon to move.

"Yours too!", Val called out.

This wouldn't remain their last meeting.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Although Ian was incredibly cautious to not catch feelings the more time passed, it would remain just an attempt. He didn't want to end up in the to-him dreadful situation of only being desirable for intimacy without commitment. He wanted the commitment and was at a point where intimacy was connected to rejection. It happened often enough he'd develop feelings, be intimate with his crush in hopes there might actually be romance involved but his love would always remain unrequited. So he avoided it entirely at some point. When he noticed Val and him got closer, (joke) flirted and Val began to mean something to him, he told them that if they didn't want more of him than that intimacy it would be better they stop seeing each other.

Confused, Val reached his hand and assured Ian they haven't even thought about him in that sense. Val wanted to be with Ian too but in a different way. They actually wanted to commit and be Ian's romantic partner before a sexual one.

They got married fairly recently. Makenna was 20, Feya 18, and Micah 15 (they are now 21, 19 and 16)

Also! Ian and Val allowed to bring a +1 and you can guess three times who Micah took as his +1 and faced boyfriend allegations with the entire reception through :D

[deviantly-inspired]

Cassandra in the Dreaming AU • Dreamling

This is a short Lil intro to an AU I'm working on for an outsider POV on Dreamling. I've always loved the mythos of Cassandra. There isn't much to it yet beyond a very general outline, but I wanted to post this here to start. Mostly because my work break is almost over, and I need to be able to find this later lol

If you like this let me know. It's been am age since I wrote anything but I'm rather liking this so far.

●●●

CASSANDRA STANDS BEFORE GODS, FURIOUS AND SHIVERING. The smiling woman, Cassandra knows, is Death. Not Thanatos or Hades. Something bigger, older than both by far. Unnamable beyond that which she is. The other, male and dour, she feels she can almost recognize. Someone Cassandra perhaps has seen once or maybe often, but never quite took note of.

"Hello Cassandra," Death says. "I'm sure you're quite confused."

Cassandra has known Gods and Kings. Before Death, each of them seems so young. Death's smile is so old it reminds her of the ruins Agamemnon would tell her of, the ancient peoples who fell before Greece. Cassandra nods.

"My brother here wishes to offer you a place in his realm," Death says. "Should you agree, I will allow it."

"Brother?" Cassandra asks, looking once more to the male. "Sleep?"

Death tosses her head back and laughs. She looks every bit of what Cassandra imagined her mother meant when she had said Death was kind.

"Close!" Death congratulates. "Most of your kind know we're siblings of a kind."

"I am Dream. Your people call me Morpheus."

Morpheus. Of course Cassandra recognizes him now, and wonders at how she ever could have forgotten: she has known Morpheus all of her life, after all.

"You would offer I stay with you?" Cassandra asks, slow and cautious. There are no stories on this strange Death, and nearly none on Morpheus: he is not known for kindness nor cruelty, and is barely spoken of at all, except by those most devoted to him. She has never heard of Morpheus offering sanctuary to passing souls. Has she been forsaken even by Hades, for spurning Apollo so?

Morpheus has very sad eyes.

"Your story is a common one," he says. "Apollo is not half as clever as he believes, to curse you so. Across the sea of stars in every direction there are stories like yours. Each shapes there people evermore, and each is welcome here should they wish it."

Her mind feels wild, like a frothing horse. Her heart no longer beats, but Cassandra knows that if it did it would be running wild.

"Why would you offer this? What have you to gain?"

Morpheus has a strange sort of look to him. Cassandra will later decide that what she saw was grief.

"I am all stories, unforgotten. I am all libraries, unburned. I've room in me for yours as well, should you wish it. What have I to gain from not cutting my own throat, or biting my own tongue?"

It makes no sense to Cassandra. Hardly anything has since the moment she learned that Apollo would let her whole world burn for the sake of pride. Death is quiet and non judgemental when Cassandra looks to her. Morpheus seems to almost be painted onto the background of wherever it is they are. This floating nothingness of stars.

"Will you believe me, lord morpheus?" Cassandra asks. She is surprised by her own wavering voice, and the tears that wish to fall from her eyes. She let's them.

"Apollo has no power here," morpheus says. "You shall never speak prophecy again except when you wish it. And while I can't ensure all in my realm will believe you, none will be bound to find you a liar."

"I will stay with you," Cassandra says. Morpheus looks surprised. It firms her resolve. "Lord Morpheus, I will stay with you, please."

"Of course."

Morpheus extends a hand towards her, and Cassandra takes it with only a moment's hesitation. Death's smile bolsters Cassandra's will, and she reaches out, taking lord Morpheus by the hand. It is not prophecy that Cassandra feels as she steps in line with the god of dreams, but something even Apollo could not steal from her.

Cassandra knows: this is where she is meant to be.

[fabulous109]

My Light- Embry Call Chapter 11

My Light- Embry Call fanfic (scroll for past chapters)

Chapter 11~ Emily

“Has she said anything?” Carlisle asked Emmett through the phone while Rose was trying to get you to eat. The current hotel in Stockholm, Sweden was 5 star, beautiful and all to everyone else, but it was just another black hole for you. Emmett and Rose drug you through the whole planet, minus anything frigid like the north and south pole. That was about the only request you had, except to not ask questions. You traveled to random places that your siblings hoped would bring you back to them. From Australia and seeing the Great Barrier Reef from the plane, Chile on a cloudy day, Egypt at night considering who you were traveling with, mostly all the UK thanks to the dreary weather, but you never saw it. Yeah, you looked with your eyes, but you would be shocked if you ever remembered any of it. Your heart kept you distracted with the insistent bleeding. Why wasn’t it getting any better? Especially if it was all a lie.

“Has she even ate? It��s been three months Emmett she has to have said something besides not to go to somewhere cold.” Emmett finally reached a spot outside the room where Emily couldn’t hear or sense what he was saying by his body language. She could always tell what was going on even when she couldn’t hear. 

“Carlisle, I don’t know what else to do for her here. She won’t say anything, and only eats enough not to starve. We tried giving her phone back to even talk to anyone and she wouldn’t take it. Not to mention something is wrong with her health, more than what we have been trying to treat. I can’t tell what it is since she still isn’t communicating and it’s getting worse since a few days ago. I hoped it would be a fluke, but I can’t get any information out of her either way. We have a plane ticket booked tonight to fly home. I just don’t know where to go once we get in the country. Should I take her to a hospital or something?” If Emmett could hyperventailate, he would be right now. Seeing his little sister this sick, especially not knowing the reason, was more than he could take. He was hoping becoming like him would have been the most pain she ever had to face. 

“Bring her home here to Forks. She doesn’t have to go anywhere near La Push, nor am I telling anyone she is coming home besides Billy since he has packed up her home and rented it out to another family. All her things are set up here the way she left them except for any trace of him. Maybe she needs to be around things she knows. I don’t know maybe she needs more help than we can give her. I was given a little information from Billy in trade for information on how she is doing.” Emmett started gripping the phone a little too hard at this point as he grunted out the words he had been waiting to say since that day. “WHAT did HE do?”

As Carlisle relayed all the information, Rose gasped after slipping out of the room just in time to hear the story, summarized of course after being quietly passed through the necessary ears. Rosalie was able to give Emmett enough support to avoid crushing the phone entirely or seriously hurting someone or something. “There is more to the story, but Embry wants to come explain that himself now that we already know exactly what he said. I think he should too, without anyone trying to kill him but we all listen. We owe Billy that much after all he did for us and still is today. Besides I don’t know if what he said about the whole reservation was true, but Sue has been calling too and coming by the hospital. Not to mention now Edward and Bella are together, but she is family friends with Jacob. Jacob has often relayed that he misses Emily too, along with Quil. Apparently, Embry isn’t doing well physically, mentally, or emotionally which leads me to believe there is more to the story than we know.” Rose had to take the phone at this point while Emmett was whisper yelling due to the hotel having thin walls. “He isn’t getting around her ever again. He..I am going to rip him to shreds..that’s the most precious loving person sitting in there dead. He killed her.” At this point Carlisle had hung up the phone a while ago leaving Emmett clinging to Rose. If he could cry, he would be right in there with Emily begging her to let him in. Instead he gently as possible pushed Rose to the side and went to his little sister. He picked her up and squeezed, but Emily knew. She had heard it all outside as he knew she did once she wrapped her arms around him and cried. The first tears finally fell and then came the screams and sobs. She still didn’t talk, but she snapped finally. She might not ever be herself again, she knew now that something was seriously wrong in her body. The pain was more than holding his betrayal in, it was something more than the vampires knew. As she looked into Emmett’s eyes, he promised her that they would figure it out, but more than that the promised to never let Embry hurt her again. Emily knew he couldn’t keep that even if he spent his life protecting her, the damage was already done. She could only hope one day she found someone else to sew her back up and give her new best friends that wouldn’t turn the other way like her La Push family did. 

[cvldbones]

one single thread of gold

CHAPTERS 5, 6, & 7 NOW POSTED!

Where she once thought she had carefully excised the parts of her that had been touched by Anthony Bridgerton, he finds a way to seep back into her bloodstream. It is so typical of them, she thinks. How could it have been any other way? Over the course of a decade, Kate and Anthony keep finding, and losing, and choosing each other.

Excerpt from Chapter 5 (twenty-three) below...

***

Howling like dogs in the light of the moon Holding our breath after 1:32 You asked me why I wasn't sayin' a word I'm namin' the stars in the sky after you

***

When people ask where he’s from, it is Kent that Anthony thinks of first.

Despite the family spending most of the year at the Mayfair residence, as dictated by Edmund’s job responsibilities, it was always Aubrey Hall that his father loved best. London was too bustling for his tastes, and he liked the freedom of the countryside; besides, he was responsible for managing so much of the land out there, and it made more sense to be hands-on. That is the type of steward his father was, after all.

So, it was at Aubrey Hall that they spent every spare weekend and holiday and summer. When Anthony was at Eton, he barely saw his childhood bedroom in Mayfair at all; he was always packed to Kent, straightaway. It is where he and his siblings learned to walk. It is where Francesca spoke her first word. It is where all his best memories are held: pall mall matches, garden parties, Christmas mornings, holding his youngest sister in his arms for the first time.

It is home.

It is where his father took his last breaths.

On the good days, Anthony is grateful for that fact. He is certain there is no place he would rather have been, in those final moments, than in the gardens of Aubrey Hall, his wife’s face above him.

On the bad days, though. It is a different story.

His father’s death was so quick as to be almost comical; walking back from an early morning hunting excursion, he had bent over to survey the flowers in the garden, pondering which ones Violet might like best, when he suddenly grabbed at his chest. And Anthony – eighteen, terrified – had stood and watched, helpless, useless, even as his mother had bounded out of the house, one hand pressed to her belly; even as his father choked out uneven syllables; even as Violet sobbed, her screams like something out of a horror movie, begging Anthony to call someone, please!

The woman on the emergency line tried to talk him through CPR, but his mother would barely let Edmund out of her arms. When the EMTs arrived, she was still gripping his shoulder, and Anthony was pumping against his chest, and he was already gone.

On the bad days, Anthony can still feel his father’s ribs cracking beneath his hands.

Anthony refuses to think about that now, though. The weather is perfect as he drives, balmy and cloudless, and his arm hangs out the window as he pulls down the gravel road that leads to his family’s property. It has been too long since he was last home – Daphne’s birthday, he thinks – and even longer since he has brought friends. The usual suspects, Dorset and the like, are invited to the annual garden party, of course, but those hardly count. This marks the first occasion he’s asked for people to see the property and stay the weekend, and his mother was so excited at the prospect that he’s already a bit nervous to see how over-the-top she has gone in the preparations.

It had been Benedict’s idea, really. Sophie and Kate are always extended invitations to the garden party, but have not been able to attend; after the timing did not work out this year, either, Ben suggested a weekend in the country to finally show them the property. That, of course, meant Daphne and Simon got wind of the plan, which then lead to Eloise and Edwina being invited. They have a new friend, Penelope, they decided to bring along, and Colin – never one to be left out – flew in last night. It is a bit more of an affair than he had originally anticipated, but Anthony hasn’t seen everyone together like this since graduation. That was such a clusterfuck in its own right that he is looking forward to rectifying it, this weekend.

Read more on AO3!

[goodluckdetective]

TUMBLR VERSION

FIC: SLEEPING GIANTS 1/2

Ship: Durge/Astarion

Fandom: BG3

Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore

Rating: M

AO3

Summary: 

Astarion earns his freedom covered in Cazador’s blood. The Former Chosen of Bhaal earns their freedom drowning in their own. A look at two different aftermaths of breaking free.

Notes:

Hello and welcome to whatever this is. Like one part “the horror of being controlled and falling in love with someone who knows that same horror” one part “you can kill the puppeteer but the scars from the strings don’t leave as soon as you cut them” one part “the game doesn’t have time for a long introspection after these two big scenes but that’s why fanfic writers exist” and one part “uses durge and Astarion as character foils and enjoys the light bouncing back and forth.” The background ships are very background which is why they aren’t in the main tags. The title comes from the Crane Wives Song of the same name. This is two chapters but each can be read on their own. The second chapter I'm aiming to have up in like two weeks max? (I also want to shoutout edelgarfield's series "cardinal, sunrise, morning star" which gave me the idea to do the Urge sections in second person. It's fantastic and you should read it.)

FIC BELOW:

Ever since Rune heard the name Cazador Starr, they’d thought about killing him.

It was a nice use of channeling the Urge when it got bad, turning the desire to tear and maim onto a worthy target. Rune had pictured casting hold monster to hold the man in place while they’d cast lightning bolt right between Starr’s eyes. They’d considered using insect plague and watching as bugs tore the man apart piece by piece as he screamed for death that wouldn’t come. Once they’d learned how to cast Daylight, they’d smiled at the mental image of forcing the vampire lord to stick his head directly into the sphere.

Like Rune’s other urges, they resisted acting on them (though they did relish casting Daylight right in front of Starr’s face). But that resistance was only so Astarion could get the kill instead. It was his to have; Rune was not going to take it from him unless they were asked to.

(If Astarion had died, if you had failed to get him free before the dark ritual completed, then Cazador Starr would be dead by your hand. You would ensure he lived long enough to know the agony he deserved. You’d kept Bonedaughter’s notes about what she’d done to you, back in Moonrise. One could get very clever with torture when someone refused to die. You thought of taking inspiration from the kennels, when you’d looked at the history of your lover’s suffering and saw potential instead-)

Rune pushed the thought out of their head and shook off the sneer that started to creep across their face. They had to keep it together, keep the Urge under lock and key. Astarion, who was currently covered in the blood of his 200 year nightmare, could not afford for Rune to lose it. 

They watched as Astarion wept on the stone tiles, wanting to embrace him but knowing it might not be wanted. Instead, they stepped close enough so if Astarion desired, he could easily reach out and touch them. They didn’t get a chance to see what he would choose because the rest of Astarion’s siblings came to greet them. As the matter of settling the spawn was resolved and the fate of the Gur’s children revealed, Rune spoke only to clarify events and back up whatever Astarion decided. It wasn’t until they made it out of the palace that they said anything somewhat resembling an order, and even then, they chose each word with care.

“We can call it a day after this if people need it,” Rune said, looking at Astarion. Everyone needed the rest, they were all exhausted, but Rune would not force such a thing. Should Astarion wish to keep going, Rune would send Shadowheart and Karlach back to camp before sharing a list of tasks that were mostly errands, but essential ones; buying potions, collecting materials. Things Astarion could do with shaky hands and an unsteady step. He wasn’t physically hurt, Shadowheart had ensured that. Should Astarion need to keep busy, to put off the part of the day where he could sit down and take it all in, then Rune would ensure he had it. 

Rune was well practiced quieting their own loud thoughts with busywork.

Astarion agreed to the rest, and Rune mentally filled away their list of busy tasks for later. Instead, the party headed back to the Elfsong where they had decided to set up camp ever since Astarion’s siblings tried to drag him back. It wasn’t as good as a private residence, but vampires would still need to be invited into their rooms should they wish to enter, and that was far better security than the open air. With Cazador dead, they could save some coin by camping outside again, but Rune knew Astarion would want some privacy, and that was better obtained in their shared rooms. 

As they approached the Elfsong, Rune took a look at their partner. Astarion had put his armor back on, but he was still drenched in blood. That would draw some attention, even in a place used to mercenaries. 

Back in the mansion, between freeing the spawn and running into the Gur,  Rune had handed him each piece of armor after Astarion asked for them. They watched as Astarion struggled to secure the clasps and resisted the urge to help, knowing they needed Astarion to ask for their assistance first, less they bring back memories Astarion wished he could forget.

“Shadowheart, Karlach, go ahead,” Rune said. Karlach tilted her head, and when Rune nodded, she grabbed Shadowheart’s shoulder. They departed inside the tavern, Karlach pulling the door behind her so it didn’t slam shut. Astarion didn’t even notice them leave. Frankly, he didn’t seem to notice anything at all, a wide eyed blank expression to his face that Rune was horribly familiar with.  Rune reached for the clasps on their cloak and released it from their armor, before holding it out to Astarion. He turned to look at them, but that vacant expression was still there, like he was looking through Rune rather than at them.

“To hide the blood a bit, until we get to our rooms,” Rune explained, lifting the cloak higher. “So people don’t stare.” They would have cast invisibility on him, but they’d burned through most of their energy entering the mansion and fighting Cazador. If they knew it wouldn’t upset Astarion later, they would overextend themselves and cast it anyway.

(You cast far more spells than you should have, hoping for a brief glimpse of fear on Cazador’s face when your lightning bolt tore through his assembled minions. You’d hoped he knew what you were, you saw the book in his chambers after all; he’d been reading about Bhalspawn. Would he know what he’d brought down upon himself, for treating Astarion as a stain on his shoe? Would he realize you were the most dangerous thing in his manor turned tomb? )

Astarion’s gaze sharped and he took a quick breath in, like he’d been rapidly thrust back into his body from wherever he’d mentally gone. Rune forced themself away from the Urge in tandem. He took the cloak and wrapped it around himself, putting up the hood. It was a little large on him, Rune was taller than the vampire by half a foot, but in these circumstances, that was ideal. Rune heard him mumble something that sounded like a thank you. 

He didn’t need to thank them: not for this. Rune held out a hand, should Astarion want to grab it, and when he didn’t, lowered it without comment.

“Let’s go straight to the room. Follow me.”

The Elfsong was loud and boisterous at this hour, people settling in for the evening. A bard played a jaunty tune on their fiddle on one of the stages and Rune briefly wanted to smash their instrument for daring to be so cheerful. No one paid them much mind as they went directly to the stairs and headed up to the rooms on the second floor. The room to the main suite was open and Rune glanced at everyone as they walked inside. Everyone else was crammed inside the small space, almost comically so, paying attention to Shadowheart who was talking in a low whisper. Likely explaining what happened in the depths of the Starr palace. 

Rune walked past the group, shaking their head at everyone inside before Astarion followed behind them. Their room was close to the entrance and Rune closed the door behind Astarion as soon as he was inside.

“Alright, we’re here.” Rune took a look at the tiny room and their gaze went instantly to the wooden bathtub in the far right corner. It was an extra cost to obtain at the Elfsong, but given everyone hadn’t had a proper bath in weeks, it was worth the coin. Rune didn’t really get much out of baths, they didn’t find the way of bathing relaxing with the Urge constantly humming in the background, but they understood how it might be appealing to someone who didn’t deal with their particular affliction. They turned back to Astarion. He wasn’t quite looking through everything anymore, but he still seemed lost, his gaze darting all over the room.

“If you want, I can run you a bath. For the blood.” Rune regretted the addition as soon as it left their mouth. What else would the bath be for? Stupid, stupid. “Would you like that?”

Astarion snapped his head up to look at them. When he spoke, his tone was as sharp as his fangs. “I can run my own bath, I’m not an invalid.”

Rune expected this at some point; the deflection, the attempt to hide away his own wounds by lashing out at others. They didn’t take the bait, instead focusing on their main point. 

“That’s not an answer.”

The fight drained out of Astarion in an instant. His shoulders drooped, a sigh escaping his lips. He looked so very tired. 

“Yes, you may,” he said and with that, Rune got to work.

The wooden tubs at the Elfsong were enchanted, which Rune suspected was why they had such a high rental price. By activating the cantrips on the side, one could fill or empty the tub with water without going to the task of bringing water up from the kitchen. Heating said water was another matter, and for that, Rune’s magical powers would suffice. They stuck their hand into the water once it filled the tub and cast Prestidigitation. Steam came off the top of the surface, not hot enough to burn but enough to be pleasant, and they removed their hand, wiping off the excess water onto their robes. When they turned to Astarion, he’d already peeled himself out of his armor, but his smallclothes remained. Rune gestured to the tub.

“Alright, it should be fine.” They got back onto their feet and took a step away from the tub. “I can wait outside if you want, or go downstairs.”

Rune would prefer to stay, if this was their decision to make. Not to gaze at Astarion’s body, but to be able to remind themselves that he was alive, that the ritual had failed. 

There was a moment, back at the manor, when Rune thought it was all over. When they’d looked to their side to see Astarion gone, suddenly across the room in the same hellish bindings as his fellow spawn. In that instant, before Astarion screamed at them to free him, they’d feared the ritual was done, that Cazador had succeeded. That all that would remain of a man who responded to their heritage with empathy and stole them extra ink for their journal was their memories and the cruel visage of Cazador Starr. 

No, Rune would rather stay. Here, they could easily remind themselves how things had actually gone. But should Astarion want them to go, they would. They would walk downstairs, order a pint of ale, and rely on their faulty memory to remind them.

Astarion walked over to the tub and poked the surface of the water. It rippled, and he looked down in it, like he thought he could see his own reflection if he waited long enough. After a moment, he looked back to Rune.

“Stay?”

Rune nodded and went to pull over a chair to sit in as Astarion fully undressed and got in the water. Before they sat down, they grabbed Astarion’s armor and pulled it over to the chair. After they were seated, they got started casting prestidigitation on Astarion’s armor. The blood came off easily enough and when they were done, they looked up at the vampire. Astarion was sitting in the tub, knees curled up to his chest, and wiping blood off his arms. It turned the water a light pink.

“Want me to talk or no?” Rune offered, noting a distant look creeping back into Astarion’s eyes. 

“Talk. Please not about-“ Astarion cut off, shuddering. “Anything else.”

Rune wracked their brain for an appropriate topic. Anything related to the Gortash, Bhaal or the Elder Brain was a bad idea. Magical theory could work, Rune was picking up a bit from Gale, but they would rather not bore Astarion to death. After some consideration between choosing one of Volo’s stories to mock (potentially fun, but then they’d have to go to the effort to remember one of his stories) or Rune’s thoughts on the decor of the Elfsong (alright, but Shar’s temple and the Goblin’s base had set the bar low), they finally stumbled upon something with potential. 

“I’ve been trying to convince Gale to let me be his wingman if he decides he wants to get back out there,” Rune mused. They knew they had the perfect topic when Astarion snorted, bubbles coming up on the tub. The conversation of Gale’s post-Mystra rebound was a topic of the camp, and for good reason; Gale seemed to have finally realized his former relationship with the Goddess wasn’t a healthy one. Recently Wyll saw him trying to flirt with another wizard from Sorcerous Sundries, use of illusions included. Given the amount of dark topics that dominated camp these days, the party had jumped to gossip over such low stakes. 

Gale thankfully didn’t mind and appeared a combination of amused and touched by their collective interest in his happiness. He’d indulged them by offering to consider letting one of them play wingman and Lae’zel, Wyll and Rune had all jumped at the opportunity. Wyll had offered because he was deeply enamored with true love and romance. Rune had offered because they hated Mystra. 

Lae’zel had offered because Astarion bribed her with a nice amount of gold pieces to throw her hat in the ring. That, and she was determined to prove that her direct “I want to taste you” approach did actually work on more than just Shadowheart. 

“So far, he seems to be favoring Wyll’s pitch,” Rune continued, leaning back in the chair. It felt nice to relax somewhat. They hadn’t realized how tense they’d been sitting until then. “He wants to take Gale to a local bar favored by mages around here, which I will admit, isn’t a bad idea.”

Astarion hummed. He was no longer curled into a ball, instead scrubbing away the blood on his torso. 

“But if I can convince Karlach to tell me where she used to go after working out, I think I might manage to change his mind.” Convincing Karlach to do so would be difficult, Rune thought, as she was unofficially on Wyll’s team. But Rune wasn’t above bribery and they’d managed to loot a rather shiny greataxe that they thought might loosen her lips. 

“You think he’s looking for someone muscular?”

“Did you hear what he said about “invigorating stimulation” back when we were fighting those goblins? If he’s looking for that kind of “stimulation” then Karlach’s old haunts are the best bet.”

Astarion chuckled and Rune hid their grin by ducking their head down. It wasn’t his full laugh, Rune didn’t expect to hear that after the day he’d had, but Gods it was nice to see him smile and mean it. 

They continued like that, talking about other silly gossip, until Astarion was done. Rune threw him a towel and watched his eyebrows raise as he pressed his hand into the fabric.

“Did you warm this towel?”

Rune had, using prestidigitation a few seconds earlier. They’d gotten the idea from Wyll, who back at Last Light, had given out freshly warm blankets to those they’d freed from Moonrise Towers after their prison break. Rune took note of how the prisoners seemed to relax as they touched the warm fabric. Interesting how  such small comforts still provided solace after such terrible cruelty. 

“Too much?”

Astarion was already wrapping it around himself.  “No, it’s perfect.” He shifted his weight from one foot to another and looked to Rune with a conflicted expression. “I need some time to think.”  

Rune got up and headed towards the door. Astarion had gone through a lot today and Rune knew what it was like to have a lot on the mind. “No problem. I’ll be around if you need me. You can use the tadpole if it’s an emergency.”

Astarion relaxed and nodded once. Satisfied he would call for them if needed, Rune left the room and closed the door behind them. The rest of their companions were still in the main suite living space and they all turned to Rune as they left. They’d clearly been hovering; the book in Gale’s lap was one Rune knew he already read twice over and if Lae’zel kept sharpening that dagger, it might chip. 

Rune adored them all. Despite all their respective burdens, all of them were happy to make a detour to take down Cazador. It was the same with saving Wyll’s father or helping Shadowheart find her parents or potentially breaking into Hell for Lae’zel.  They all cared.

If this was what having a family felt, like no wonder people were so found of theirs.  

“How’s Fangs?” Karlach asked, fiddling her thumbs together. Rune walked forward and shrugged. 

“Processing; he asked for some time alone. Now,” they reached into their pockets and pulled out their journal, opening it up to where they kept a ribbon as a bookmark. “Let’s talk about supplies and inventory.”

The resounding groan from the rest of the party was a welcome sign of normalcy.

__________

After an hour and a half of debating what to sell and what to keep, shortly followed by dinner, Rune headed downstairs to the first floor of the tavern. They would have normally stuck to the rooms, content with the company, but they couldn’t stop looking at the door to their own room and fretting about the vampire inside. So to alleviate their temptation to hover, they instead put their journal back in their pocket, grabbed one of their lighter bags, and decided to try some of the Elfsong’s famous ale. 

They walked to the bar and took a seat, gesturing to the bartender and ordered said ale, which the bartender dutifully delivered moments later. After taking a sip, Rune closed their eyes, and took in the noise of the tavern. It was nice, they thought, to sometimes be surrounded by the hum of life. They could hear two men arguing about a business deal away from the bar. Somewhere to their left, a woman was flirting with someone and if the lack of response was any indication, failing rather miserably at it. The sound of a lute warming up to play rang from the stage where the bard was seated.

( You knew so many ways strings could be used for more interesting means. Garrotting, tying up prey, even cutting flesh if held tight enough. )

Rune kept drinking. The Urge was always there, and the more they focused on it, the worse it would get. It was best to just acknowledge its presence like an unwelcome houseguest and continue on with everything. They took another sip of their ale, trying to pinpoint the flavor. It tasted a little floral. Karlach was right; it was rather good compared to what they’d had on the road.

(I t would be so easy to kill everyone here. You could do it in an instant. Circle of Death is such a fantastic spell for wrecking ruin in such cramped spaces.)

The bard started a new song and Rune tapped their foot along to the beat, trying to work out some restless energy. After another sip of ale, they decided the drink, while not the best they’d ever had, was quite the deal for the price. Rune wondered if the food was as good; maybe Gale could take a day off cooking duty. Then again, the chef had said something about rats in the basement. 

( That would be the best way to do it. You could go to the basement. No one would be able to see you cast down there, no one would even think to cast Counterspell.)

Sure, they could do that, but they weren’t going to, so they weren’t going to focus on it.  They just had to-

( How do you know what you’re going to do? Remember Alfira? )

Rune gripped the glass of ale tighter as they placed it back onto the counter. The tavern seemed louder now, more crowded. The bard’s song, a jaunty little tune meant for dancing, picked up the pace. 

( Did you know Circle of Death has a thirty feet effect radius? If you cast it just at ceiling level, you could get the second story too. You could even spare the rats ).

Was the bard’s lute off pitch when they started? It didn’t seem like that earlier. It was likely in their head, 

( Your companions would be struck too. You wouldn’t likely kill them all but you’d kill the weaker ones for sure. Though wasn’t everyone weak compared to you, a child of a God ?)

It felt hotter in the tavern too. Rune felt someone brush past them, and went stock still, their eyes still closed. They could feel sparks coming off their hand not holding the ale. It would be so easy to reach out and shock anyone who passed by.

( How ironic would it be, for the sad little spawn, finally free of his master, to die as the rats scurried alive and well below. )

Rune’s eyes flew open and they stood up so fast that the chair behind them fell to the ground. A few people turned to look at them. Even the bard ceased playing, noticing the minor commotion. The bartender faced them, brows furrowed in a mix of alarm and concern.

(How concerned would they be, if they knew what you truly were?)

Rune left the ale unfinished, threw a tip for the bartender and made towards the stairs, paying no attention to anyone who tried to stop them. They did not halt at the second floor, instead heading straight for the windows at the end of the hall. It was twilight now, and Rune was thankful for it as they opened the latch. 

Rune climbed out the windows and onto the roof. The roof was safer than the tavern, the most accessible collateral damage local pigeons. The Urge did not stop its issessant blathering as they made their way onto the shingles, but it did become less loud in the cool air. 

They managed to find a spot to sit that was not entirely uncomfortable and pulled out their journal from their pocket. Journaling was grounding, a way to focus on anything but the Urge whispering in their ear. Next, they grabbed a piece of charcoal from their bag that they keep wrapped in cloth to keep it from staining everything. In the section of their journal where they kept unfinished tasks, they crossed off “help A. kill C.S if he wants” with more force than what was needed. Unlike most of their “to do” list, it was surrounded by completed tasks, as Rune wrote it down back even before the Tiefling party at the Grove.

Astarion knew Rune kept a journal, everyone did, but Rune hadn’t told him how early they’d decided to help him eliminate the Vampire Lord. They were worried he’d chalk it up to nothing but affection for his act, and Rune wasn’t sure they’d be able to fully convince him otherwise. To be fair, affection had played a factor, though it was affection for Astarion’s understanding of their own bloodlust and mystery novels rather than his honeyed lines. But a much larger part was that when Rune learned that spawn had to follow every order their sire gave them, helpless to fight back, they felt a murderous rage that had nothing to do with the Urge.

I cannot let that happen to anyone else , Rune had thought back then, even though they could not place where the feeling had come from.  I refuse. And they’d written down their commitment to do as such before Astarion had even considered killing Cazador as something that could be accomplished. 

Even now, while they’d mostly helped kill Cazador because Astarion wanted to, there was a part of them that was delighted to help because Cazador was a puppeteer that could be beaten. If Rune couldn’t free themselves from the God of Murder, at least they could free Astarion from his own bonds. 

They felt guilty for that feeling, even if it was a small thing. A drop in an ocean of guilt really. They were lucky they hadn’t drowned. 

They looked at the other tasks on their list. There were some they could easily handle now; crushing materials for potions, reading a book they’d gotten that they hoped might provide some insight into Karlach’s eternal engine, organizing a backlog of spell scrolls they’d picked up. Their next big task kept drawing their attention, and they ran their thumb past “save Duke Ravenguard” and watched the charcoal smear. It would have to be soon if they wanted any chance of finding him alive. And that would require making an enemy of Gortash. 

Rune didn’t care about making an enemy of Gortash exactly. It was more the complications that came with it that troubled them. Gortash knew more about who Rune used to be than Rune themselves and that made him dangerous. Would Rune’s plans still work as intended if Gortash devoted himself fully to thwarting them? Would he seek to complicate the lives of Rune’s friends by allying with the Sharrans or sending his Steel Watch to torment the refugees? Gortash knew enough about Rune to somewhat predict them even with their changes in personality, but Rune still knew less about him than Karlach did. 

Rune knew Gortash stayed his hand out of fondness for who Rune used to be (as well as hatred of Orin). Should Rune truly disrupt his plans, he would discard that fondness for a person who was, if Rune was lucky, gone. All that would be left from Gortash was rage that Rune remained wearing his friend’s face.

Friend was probably not the right word, Rune thought, shuddering. They didn’t think Gortash and their former self were capable of love, but they absolutely had been fucking. If Rune asked, Gortash could probably tell them what scars they’d obtained since they vanished, maybe even how Rune got them, and when he died, he would know the history of Rune’s body more than themselves.

Well, that was a nauseating thought. Best not to think about that one, especially given that Rune’s current partner was a floor below reeling what might be one of the most traumatic days of his life. Rune could unpack that properly once they were free of the tadpoles. And helped Shadowheart find her parents. And found a solution to Karlach’s engine and-

Well, eventually. Just not now. 

Instead of thinking more about the current Archduke, Rune instead began dividing up tasks for the next day. Wyll would have to come with Rune while they investigated leads for his father, and Karlach would be good to have on hand should they get dire news. Everything Rune knew about comforting people was learned from watching Wyll, and they could use Karlach’s help if news about the man’s father was tragic. They would also be a good pair to help Rune to dig up more about Orin’s murder plot, given their knowledge of the city. If Astarion was up for it, he’d be an excellent addition as well; otherwise, Jaerhia’s would be an good choice. While they were off doing that,  Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Gale could continue looking for leads on where the Temple of Bhaal might be located. Orin had promised Rune that Halsin would be safe as long as Rune focused their ire on Gortash, but Rune was not going to place their trust in their murderous sibling. 

They’d made that mistake once, back when they were something cruel. They would not make it again. 

A half an hour must have passed before Rune heard someone else scramble onto the window below. They prepared a cast of ray of frost until they saw white curls poke out over the edge of the roof. Rune closed their journal and set it on their lap.

“Up here.”

“I knew you’d be roosting somewhere,” Astarion said, as he leapt onto the shingles with grace Rune rather envied. “Tavern too noisy for your scheming?”

Astarion knew Rune could plan just fine surrounded by outside noise; he’d seen them plan in their camp, after all. They wouldn’t be surprised if he’d learned about their swift exit from the main floor himself. He sat down next to them and looked at their lap where the journal was seated. 

“Are you ever going to let me take a look inside that thing?”

Astarion absolutely had looked inside Rune’s journal before, this they both knew. They’d caught him at it early on in their journey a few times, though he’d quit early on. At the time, Rune thought it might be due to the Alfria incident making him more cautious, but in retrospect, he’d likely stopped peeking when he realized Rune wrote down notes to self and supply lists, not secrets to stealing their heart. 

Rune was curious to why he’d want to look at it now. Astarion had already stolen their heart quite thoroughly. He had to know that surely.  

“It’s just lists and reminders. You know that. I don’t think you’d find it all that interesting.”

Astarion moved closer to Rune, so their thighs were touching. He leaned over their shoulder. “Still no drawings in the margins?”

Rune looked down at the journal and flipped it open to a section where the corner had a red stain. They held it up, showing Astarion the selected page which was covered in blood. There were a dozen of smeared illegible drawings made by shaking fingers on the parchment, like a disturbing finger painting. When Rune looked over the top of the journal to view Astarion, he looked flummoxed.

“Is that supposed to be a small intestine?”

Rune peered over the top of the journal and took in the spot Astarion was looking at. They supposed it looked a little like intestines, though it could also be just a shaky line or a blood trail. It was hard to tell. 

“I don’t know if it’s supposed to be anything at all.”

Rune would have torn out the page entirely, but at the time it’d been a clue of whatever might be wrong with them. When they’d woken up with stinging fingertips covered with their own blood, they’d scribbled the date at the top of the page like it was a regular entry. It was a bit comical, how different their neat handwriting was to the gore on the page. 

“I suppose we can cross off artist as a potential future career path,” Astarion said, leaning his forearms back against the roof so he could lean back a little. His body was too tense for the position to look relaxing, but he wasn’t trying to fake ease, which Rune took as a promising sign. “Planning out our marching orders for tomorrow?”

“A little. Depends on what you’re up for.”

“You know I’m up for everything darling.”

“Astarion,” Rune said, voice firm. They knew that voice for what it was: an act. If Astarion wanted to brush off everything in front of the others, Rune wouldn’t stop him. But they wouldn’t allow him to do the same when they were alone. 

Rune had their own performances memorized: the devoted Absolute cultist, the brave hero, the playful clueless sorcerer. Astarion knew them all, he’d seen Rune throw on each persona when the moment required it, then drop it as soon as they were back in camp. If Rune put down their mask, they expected Astarion to do the same.

Astarion’s shoulders slumped. He leaned back, looking up at the setting sun and held out his hand, like he was trying to cup the horizon in his grasp. 

“That first day, after the crash,” Astarion said, keeping his hand where it was. “I thought the sun would be the death of me. 200 years of shit and the moment I was free of Cazador, I was going to meet my end by a sunbeam.” He let out a dark chuckle and lowered his hand, having it lay back by his side. “Seemed like Gods’ usual cruel brand of humor.”

Rune kept quiet, waiting for him to continue. 

“Imagine my surprise when everything played out otherwise. Here I was, free of Cazador, able to walk in the sun, two things I thought I’d never have again.” He held out his hands wide, then gestured to Rune. “It seemed too good to be true. And of course, it was, once you came along and told me that the very thing that gave me what I wanted was also going to cause me to sprout tentacles in a handful of days. So when I heard about the Rite, it seemed like the perfect solution. Sure, I could have taken over the Cult myself, but that seemed like a lot of responsibility and frankly, more work than it was cut out for. I mean, did you see all the paperwork on Thorm’s desk? I’d never see the sunlight again if I had to read through all that.”

Rune felt a flash of rage pulse through them at the mention of Throm but ignored it. Now was not the time. They instead directed their entire focus on Astarion.

“It was my chance to have it all. The sun, my freedom, and Cazador dead at my hands.” Astarion waved a hand, gesturing like he was throwing something aside. “Sure, it would come at the cost of my so-called siblings, but they would have done the same thing to me. Might as well put them out of their misery. I’d be doing them a favor.” He leaned forward, wrapping his arms around his legs, placing his chin on his knees. The setting sun cast light onto the bottom of his face, just under his eyes. “And yet-”

Rune could guess what stayed Astarion’s hand in the end. They’d watched as Astarion stared at cages of spawn in horror, noticed how he’d wanted to look away from all that pain and suffering. Rune was the one who’d forced him to meet it head on, to look them in the eyes and admit the truth of the matter; that Astarion could very well do this, but he’d have to do so knowing he was throwing away people, not the already dead and buried. People who could have been Rune, if things were different.

(He wouldn't have been able to kill you. He could have tried, but you would have killed him first before you stepped a foot in that manor. Maybe even tore out his fangs as a prize.) 

“I couldn’t do it. I had everything in front of me, and I couldn’t do it.”

“You wouldn’t still be yourself if you did,” Rune said. They remembered listening to the skull tell the story of Cazador before he was a Vampire Lord, how much his story as spawn echoed Astarion’s. Rune doubted the man was ever truly soft of heart, but he at least had some capacity for feeling other than his own ego. For Cazador to have changed so much turning into a true vampire spoke volumes; hells only knew how much Astarion might change were he to become something even more than that. 

“Probably,” Astarion admitted. He scowled, kicking one of the shingles under his foot. “But I wouldn’t be like this either. Afraid he’s going to pop out of the shadows and drag me back there at any moment.”He sat up straight all of the sudden, irritation leaking into his tone. “He’s dead. I killed him myself. So why do I still feel like this?”

“Because it all still happened, maybe? Like my headaches-“ Rune ran their fingers through their hair. They could feel the scar that stretched from behind their ear to the center of their forehead. Back when they crashed it was visible given their buzz of hair. Now it wasn’t too noticeable now that Rune’s hair had grown out from patchwork to a pixie, but Rune could never forget it was there. 

Astarion had Cazador to thank for his own back. Rune noticed the vampire took care to not wear items that gave anyone a glimpse of the scarring there. Cazador’s death would not erase that contract nor the memory of it being carved there. Even if Astarion both wished otherwise.

“Even though the wound might physically have healed, that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t hurt,” Rune said, finishing their thought. 

Astarion turned away, snarling. “So what, I’m stuck with him forever, even while he rots?”

Sometimes Astarion could be purposefully obtuse. “That wasn’t my point.”

“And what was it then?”

Rune was good with words when it came to strangers. Strangers they never had to see again, strangers never got to realize that Rune had spotted what they wanted to hear or inferred the role they wanted Rune to play. Rune didn’t have to think much about the interaction other than how to get what they wanted.

With friends, with people Rune cared for, words were harder. Because with them, words could do far more damage if thrown around loosely. The wrong thing to say, the wrong tone and one could cause damage as deep as a knife wound.

Rune was so tired of hurting people they didn’t want to. 

“That you shouldn’t tear yourself apart because you haven’t healed from 200 years of shit overnight,” they settled on. Astarion was looking at them again, red eyes trained on Rune’s face. “You’re so hard on yourself, sometimes,”Astarion began to open his mouth but Rune pressed on, determined to finish the thought. “And I know I’m one to talk, but Astarion, you managed to kill a vampire lord today. You gave thousands the chance to make a new life. You gave the gur their children back.”

“That I helped take in the first place-“

“Okay, well if that’s true-“ Frustration burned through Rune and they pointed their finger in Astarion’s chest. Astarion almost fell back in surprise, Rune rarely got visibly angry. Rune would have tried to reign in the emotion but they needed Astarion to understand this, they needed him to believe them. They reached into their bag for the dagger everyone insisted they keep on them, and pushed it sheathed into Astarion’s hands. Astarion looked at them like they’d lost their mind.

“You should rightfully take your revenge given my father tried to have me tear you limb from limb.” Rune sat back on the roof, and held their arms out wide. Astarion was still staring at them, the dagger held limply in his hands like he’d never wielded one before. “Well?”

“You weren’t yourself.” His voice was a whisper.

“And you were?”

“That’s not fair-“

“Isn't it?" Rune reached forward and plucked the dagger out of Astarion’s grasp. "Astarion, you cannot entirely hold yourself to what you did under Cazador’s control! You did a lot of good today. And yes, I know, how dare I accuse you of goodness, but this day could have ended very differently and it didn’t.” They placed the dagger back into their bag. “Give yourself some credit for that.”

“Are you sure you don’t deserve that credit instead?”

“No.” Rune was resolute. “I told you what I thought but I was willing to follow your lead. And you led us here,” They shrugged. 

“To an inn where we’re crammed into one suite and must scramble onto the roof for some privacy.”

Rune shrugged. The sun was almost gone now and with it the horizon turned a beautiful violet. The night wasn’t so bad, when it arrived with such a sight. “Who cares? You’re here. That’s all I need.” 

Astarion looked at them for a long moment, eyes wide before he reached forward, grabbed the front of their tunic, and pulled them in for a kiss. It was sweet but not soft and Rune smiled into it, feeling some of the fear from earlier in the day finally slip from their mind. 

They knew Astarion had worried when he’d confessed he’d like to stop having sex and slow things down, but frankly, Rune hadn’t minded. They didn’t remember much of their own history, but they doubted the former leader of the Cultist of Bhaal was one for kissing on rooftops with zero intention of losing clothing in the endeavor. At best, Rune’s previous life had consisted of getting off and offing people, no feeling required. While they would have agreed to Astarion’s request regardless, it didn’t hurt that Rune felt like something like this was something new to them too. Something nice. 

Rune broke the kiss for air, then dove back in for another. This one was more brief, just a quick press of lips, but Gods it was lovely. When they broke apart, they were almost giddy with affection. They placed their head on his shoulder and chuckled into Astarion’s collar bone, feeling him let out of a puff of air that ruffled their hair. He wrapped his arms around their back, pulling them in closer.

“How in the Gods’ name can you be so casually charming?”

“You know which God, we had a talk about it and everything.”

“You are an absurd human being.”

Rune pulled back to look him in the face. Astarion was smiling now, properly smiling and they felt so very warm despite the cool night air. With a teasing smile, they leaned in, just out of reach for another kiss. “But you like me though.”

“A terrible lapse in judgment on my part,” Astarion got up, and held out his hand towards Rune. “Come’on love, let’s get to bed.”

Rune looked up at him. They were rather tired. However, as nice sharing a bed was, Rune wasn’t sure it was a good idea after today given Rune’s nightmares. Their fits had gotten worse as they got closer to the city, and now that they were inside the walls properly, they woke up multiple times a night in a cold sweat. It wasn’t exactly the best atmosphere for an elf to trance. 

“If you want to be alone I can go bunk with Gale?” When it came to shared sleeping arrangements, Gale tended to be the best choice simply because he was rather used to sharing space with insomniacs after years of studying at Blackstaff. Rune could toss and turn on their bedroll all they wanted, and Gale would sleep it off just fine. 

(There would be a fight over who “got” the bed, this Rune knew. Gale would insist Rune take it for having the basic human decency of not asking him to blow himself up, and Rune would insist Gale take it because Gale complained about his knees already, and Rune had slept in far worse places. Rune expected fully to win, but not without a debate).

“Tell Gale to get his own sorcerer. It can be part of your wingman proposal,” Astarion wiggled his fingers. “I know you don’t sleep well, love. I am aware of what I’m signing up for.”

Rune took his hand and let Astarion help him to their feet. When they were standing, Astarion lifted their joined hands and pressed a kiss to the back of Rune’s palm. Rune could feel the flush that appeared on their cheeks. 

“Thank you,” he said. Rune wasn’t sure if it was for helping him kill Cazador, the bath, the talk on the roof or all three. Rune shook their head.

“You don’t have to thank me.”

“I don’t have to do anything. And I want to thank you anyway.” Astarion tightened his grip on their hands and looked Rune right in the eye. “And I meant what I said yesterday; We will see you free of Bhaal. Freedom won’t be truly sweet until you’re no longer under his thumb.”

Rune’s stomach twisted, their throat tightening. He meant it, Rune could tell. This wasn’t intended as an empty promise or sweet words to assure Rune’s nerves. If it was possible to unshackle Rune from their father’s influence, Astarion would see it done.

For both their sakes, Rune desperately hoped it was possible at all. They had their doubts but maybe Astarion’s hope would be enough for the both of them.

Astarion lowered their joined hands and tugged Rune towards the edge of the roof where the windowsill was. “Now come on, sorcerers need their beauty sleep.” 

Rune followed him. As they climbed into bed later, Rune curling around the trancing vampire, they closed their eyes and hoped that they could find a way to keep this, the Gods be dammned.