#if i wanted to spell it out i would have done so

[zorilleerrant]

"You consider me your priestess?" the girl - the old woman, now, but you can still see her rosy cheeks the first time she came to visit you - asks you. It's hard to determine her tone of voice. She doesn't sound offended, at least, although she also doesn't sound like she believes you're a god. That, at least, is expected.

You wave your hand vaguely. You didn't get the gesture quite right, but humans always change their body language, and it's been too long since you needed to be human for anything. "It's not that you are. But you're the closest I've had in generations, and I would mark you one, if you want me to." You sit, casually, on a bench that wasn't there a moment before, hoping she'll do the same.

The old woman eyes it suspiciously. She's been here for every birthday since she found the place, and many informal days besides, and she knows there was never a bench here. Still, with a weary sigh, she sits beside you. "I'd like that, I think. I never had the test scores to join any of the big priesthoods. Get one over on them, a little bit." She laughs, and her teen years, writing scathing takedowns of theological papers, come back into view for a moment.

You touch her hand. There's a spark of magic. You don't need to, you never used to, but humans are more skeptical these days, and even your most devoted follower doesn't remember the old ways.

For a moment fleeting even by her standards, you wonder if she might have brought them back. But the fishing town isn't what it once was, and no one much makes the hike up here anymore, save curious children and nostalgic adults.

"Do you want me to do anything?" your priestess asks you, a wry smiling wrinkling the still plump curve of her cheeks. "Carry a sign, maybe? Rush into the town and curse their names for not giving you your due respect? I can do a mean scolding these days."

You laugh, hand still resting over hers. "If you like." The idea of her running among the fishmongers, giving over amulets with every sale, making rude gestures when they're refused, is incomparable. The only thing she really needs is The Book, though. You fold open your altar, the way she's done so many times, and bring out the box she admired enough to start polishing gently when she came to visit, telling you about her travels and her art.

"Oh, you again," your priestess says, in delight, laying a delicate hand on the smooth wood. "I learned woodworking and inlay because of you, you little scamp." When she draws her fingers down the sides, this time, the box opens, with a click she can barely hear. Her ears aren't what they once were. Her gasp is the same as it ever was, though, and she taps The Book reverently.

"I never had many rules, even back in the beginning," you tell her, opening the cover so she knows it's safe. "What ones I had don't matter so much, I think - although I'd ask you to be careful where you summon storms, if you try it." You don't know if she has the power for that, anymore. She delved deep into magic in her mid-life crisis, but you've rarely seen her use it since, and you don't know if hers has waned or blossomed in her twilight years.

She looks over the spells. She can read the annotations, still, at least. "It's a lot of power for one person." She flexes her fingers, summoning wisps of what might be the core of some major working, if she concentrated a little harder. "Would you mind if I taught these to people? Not to join your priesthood, mind, just so there could be a little more magic in the world."

You pause. You should have considered that. Many of your siblings have left their words and their magics to the world as their respect faded away, and even more have begun recovery as lost arts. You didn't know your priestess was a teacher. You knew she'd taught a few times, when the calling struck her, but never that she felt the need in her heart. "Of course," you say. The spells are mostly weak now, you think. The time for hiding them is long past. If there's something in there that can help, so be it.

She grins at you. Her teeth are still hardy, and the candlelight flashes pleasingly against them. "Of course you'd mind, or of course you wouldn't? Don't give me any loopholes, now, Your Divinity," she laughs at her own joke, the way she started doing when she broke free of childish attempts at maturity, but still, she waits for your answer, taking your hand in hers again.

"Share them however you'd like," you tell her, knowing that it means she'll record it down to scans and recreations, "the knowledge within is yours." It's clear she'll get years of delight out of it. You don't know how much she might change the world of the handful of enthusiasts she chooses to work with her. It's a nice bookend for a life full of adventure, you think, a discovery like that.

She kisses the book, gently, on the gilded cover. Then, almost as an afterthought, she kisses your cheek as well. "Thank you," she says. Then she opens it again, absorbed in the pages, well past when the evening grows dark. You keep the candles burning higher for her, so she never has to stop her perusal. It's soothing, to watch a priestess once again hard at work. She looks up. "Is this the gift?"

"What?" you ask, caught off guard. Even through all your disciples, you never managed to learn which times connect to each other in the mind of a human. You'd thought that question long forgotten, and hadn't planned on answering right now.

"The gift you said you wanted to give me. Is The Book the gift?" she asks, in confusion. Books are wonderful, powerful things, of course, but they aren't secret. Hidden, often, and protected, and sometimes held to only the most intimate of worshipers, but they're nothing unexpected, not for a deity to give.

You lean back on the bench you never rose from, and wonder if you should bring in desks for those she plans to teach. "No. I was going to offer you your choice of afterlife, when the time comes." You watch her as she frowns. You wonder if she already has an answer in mind. You wonder if she knew since she was knee high with a scraped arm, or since she was a teenager bent on escaping her classmates, or since she was learning to grow and just choosing her passion. She just looks at you, not answering.

Then, weary minutes later - weary for her, where each night brings aches the day didn't; you're happy to wait - she asks, almost rudely, "not soon, I hope?" Her chin juts out as it used to.

"Not so soon for you," you say, thoughtfully, "although too soon for me, I must admit."

She nods, still cradling The Book carefully. "I thought, once you'd made me your priestess, I'd end up going where all your servants go," she says, sounding, of all thing, patient about it. You don't know how much she knows about your afterlife. You've never discussed it with her. Even when you were popular, once, that was never much of the details that caught people's eye.

"Normally only monks go there," you say, not that you'd discourage her, if she wanted to stay always by your side. "It's a place for quiet contemplation, mostly. Even of my priesthood, only the ones who valued their silence ever stayed." You can see her, in a long gown, roaming the halls in a circle, thinking. You can't see her enjoying it for more than a short time.

"You'd have to send me away," she says, ruefully. Then she pauses to think. "You won't pick for me? I can pick?"

Still, you think, she might have you picking her home, anyway. So many of yours did. Even the ones who earned the highest honors left everything in your hands, and here she is a priestess of moments only, ready to upset everything. Or nothing, if you ask her not to. You close her hands around The Book again.

"Think on it," you say, and wait for next year.

While other god's shrines are magnificent, yours is a bit too humbling. And yet a little girl visits you every year after stumbling upon it, never missing a year even as she grows old. Deeply moved, you decide to give her a parting gift greater than what any other God would dare to give.

[mscherub]

Right, so…you’re transported to a new world, and me being the science geek I am, I can’t help but think of all the bacteria you wouldn’t be accustomed to in Twisted Wonderland…so imagine how bad flu season would be, or just the spreading of sicknesses around the school in general

You better have a good immune system cause oml would it be put into overdrive. Anyways…here’s my twist on what the Diasomnia boys would do in order to be helpful in your recovery ❤️‍🩹

Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw, Octavinelle, Scarabia, Pomefiore, Ignihyde, Diasomnia

Warnings!:

Sickness, obviously

Mentions of vomiting, snot, etc

To start us off…

It’s flu season in Twisted Wonderland, well you call it the flu, they call it something else you don’t even bother to learn. With you’re immune so shot and not used to the illnesses that spread around, getting sick more often that you honestly should, you woke up with a headache. Ok…nothing too serious, but you thought it to be a good idea to just take some ibuprofen equivalent in their world and “thug it out,” which ultimately lead to your current situation. Currently, you’re in the infirmary, having passed out from a raging fever and a disgustingly congested respiratory system during PE and you’re bed ridden back at ramshackle, at least until your fever goes down. Sevens bless Grim and the ghosts as they try and get you things to feel better, but you need some sort of intervention, and here comes you’re favorite person at the right time. How do they help you out?

Malleus 🐉:

For one, he’s surprised you called upon him of all people, but hey, he’s not complaining. He’s been training for this day somewhat because Gao-Gao Drakon-kun has taught him how to take care of things and keep them alive, though, granted it’s a lot different in this case…but he can get an A for effort, at least. The thought that counts

He’ll sit by your side and ask you what exactly are your ailments, how he can help, all just to gauge what he should do…your very different from a tamagotchi—

Pillows, blankets, anything else? He’ll magic it right your way, probably casting some spell on it, possibly a relaxation one, which would be nice for your predicament

Of course he’ll also have food covered as well, what do you want? Eat it or don’t depending on how you feel, he won’t be mad at all, he’ll just be confused as to why you won’t eat, he's pretty sure humans need to eat to get better quickly, but he won’t pry

He’ll scoff at the medicines your assigned to take and he’ll go make you ancient and passed down remedies from Briar Valley, claiming they work better…and awkwardly enough they do perform a lot better than what you were taking before, so that’s a win because maybe you’ll get better even faster

He’ll let his magic do the work for cleaning.

He’s also not afraid to get sick, he’ll sit with you, he’s more than happy to. No being grossed out here, if anything, it’s quite peculiar how differently illnesses affect humans

He’ll be smug about taking care of you. This is the first time he's done this for a friend, especially as one as good as you.

Lilia 🧚‍♀️:

Bros gonna fuck around with you as soon as he sees you, sorry. But yet again, he does have that paternal side to him, and you just look so…helpless, and he’s not cold hearted, so of course he’ll stay and take care of you

Don’t let him cook, don’t if you wanna live!

If you refuse to eat what he makes you he’ll start getting snippy and uncharacteristically strict, saying how you need to eat to keep up your energy so your body can fight away this illness. Just keep refusing his food, if you’re not hungry then that should be fine and rather easy, but if you are, have him go buy you a little snack. Better than you not eating at all he’ll finally conclude to

He’s also a little iffy with the medicines, again with the cooking, he'll try to make a medicinal item out of herbs and stuff…probably toxic instead of the intended purpose, so don’t take it, trust me. “Oh? My, my…I didn’t realize it would turn out to be a poison! Silly me. Good thing you didn’t have any beastie.” he will laugh it off.

But, he’d still give you the medicines you need, don’t worry. He’s serious when he needs to be, and you’re recovery is important to him right now

He’ll mess around with Grim and the ghosts as you lie in bed, having a little fun himself, but if you need anything, he’ll change up quick and be by your side

Blankets, water, pillows, he’s got it under cover

He’s not scared to get sick himself so he’ll stay close to your side, most likely gently cooing at you and relishing in how you’re just so cute like this

Be warned he will randomly disappear at times, but if you call him he’ll pop up in front of you, upside down as usual. But, he’ll make sure Ramshackle is quiet while you rest, don’t worry

Silver ⚔️:

He’s honored to help you out, so he’ll do so without complaint

When it comes to those he holds dear, he’ll become more protective and do what he can to help them, and you just so happen to be in that group of people, and especially with your state, you’ll be pampered. Since Silver is tasked with watching over Malleus, he’ll do the same for you

What do you need? Well, he’s already on it, actually, so don’t worry.

Food he has under control definitely, man has to save himself from Lilia’s cooking all the time and he’s learned from a young age, so whatever you want he’ll conjure up real quick. Eat it or don’t, if you’re not hungry he’ll understand and save it for later

Do be patient with him, however, he has his sleepy spells and make sure Grim is with Silver if he’s cooking at that moment, though trusting Grim to take over if Silver does fall asleep isn’t really a great option, either-

Oh! He’s awake again, ok, medications, yea, right. If he doesn’t forget to give them to you after he falls asleep, then you’ll be fine. If he does forget, remind him, he’ll apologize and be right on it

When he’s not tending to you he’ll do stuff around Ramshackle, his pet peeve is idleness, so…

He’ll clean up and make sure the rest of the inhabitants are ok

After that, he’ll go back to your room and sit in the armchair, he’s not afraid to get sick, and he’ll doze off along with you

Sebek ⚡️:

Well…he’s going to chastise you severely while he helps you. He’ll say he’s only doing it because you’re Wakasama’s good friend, and that’s the only reason why, not that he’s actually doing this because he wants to and he feels bad, no, definitely not that. “Human! I shall only provide assistance on Wakasama’s behalf!”

He’ll belittle you every time he speaks, and if you have a headache already, just get good at ignoring him yap

Again just like with Silver, his duty is to watch over Malleus, so he’ll evidently do the same with you in a sense since that’s what he’s learned. He'll wait in your room, sitting in the arm chair, most likely reading.

He’s learned to cook well enough for himself, obviously, due to Lilia’s cooking, so he’ll provide you with more nutrient dense meals if you ask him to. He won’t do it unless you ask, he doesn’t wasn’t to assume

Sebek will make sure you take your medications religiously until you're better, it’s your duty, and he always follows his duties, you should, too.

He’ll clean up here and there, make sure Grim and the ghosts are in line, and he’ll grab you anything else you could possibly want, again, not without some complaint. “Humans are weak creatures!” He doesn’t really mean it in a mean way…he’s just being honest 🤷‍♀️

He’ll try and be quiet while you sleep, but forgive him if he yells at Grim at all and wakes you up-

Afterwards he’ll probably get sick himself, feel free to make fun of him then, KARMA

IM DONEEEE! Sorry I took my sweet ass time with Diasomnia, oh lord…

Also, I realized I made each one progressively longer for each character as I progressed through the dorms, so…whoops 🧍‍♀️(I yap too fucking much-)

But hey, now I can start on a new series, just gotta come up with one- or, someone could suggest one if anyone has any ideas!

Btw, requests and asks are open!!! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ

Master list

Please don’t steal or copy any of my work! You may, however, reblog if you’d want to!

Pictures belong to Disney Twisted Wonderland but are edited by me :)

[corruptedcaps]

Brat Training

"Mmm, I always thought your girlfriend Lana had a dorky body, but now that I'm in control, I can see she just didn't use it to its full potential. Like, look at these tits? They're way bigger than mine.

Oh didn't she tell you? She hired me to 'train' her body and mind. I'm like a life coach but I take control of my clients body's. Lucky for your girlfriend that I gave her a friends and family discount even though I am far from being either. We went to high school together and see was such a dweeb and clearly still is if she needed my help.

Bet she used to whine about me, calling me bitchy bully Becky. She was right, too. I was such a nasty slut in high school but no one dared to mess with me. Clearly that's why your lame girlfriend asked for my help. Dead end job, no fashion sense, being walked over by everyone, including you. But that ends today. I've already made some positive changes.

Like her wardrobe. She dressed like she was still in high school. But thanks to me that's all gone and she has a brand new set of expensive clothes to show off this body she was hiding. I'm going to make sure everyone knows what a queen looks like. I'll wear those tight outfits she was too scared to even think about.

And her voice, oh, her voice! She always spoke so quietly, like she was afraid of her own shadow. But now, it's a perfectly bratty tone that will make everyone do as I... or I mean, as she says. Just this morning I was able to get one of the baristas at her favourite coffee place fired for spelling her name wrong on the cup. Just a few choice words and my new manicure tapping on the counter had the manager fold so fast.

And her wardrobe? Oh, she dressed like she was still in high school. But with this body and her new clothes that I bought by maxing out her card, I'm going to make sure everyone knows what a queen looks like. I'll wear those tight dresses she was too scared to even think about.

Oh, and those friends of hers, so dorky and annoying, well I’ve kicked them to the curb. They were holding her back. You should have seen the looks on their faces when I made fun of them one by one. They were so crushed that even if Lana wanted to reverse the damage I’ve done, her friends would be too afraid to trust her.

See what your girlfriend never understood was that being a hawt bully was the only way to get what you want. Now that I’ve turned her into one she’s going to have no problem getting everything and anyone that she desires.

But you know what I���m desiring right now? You. Oh don’t worry baby it’s not cheating if it’s her body. Besides you want to be familiar with her new bitchy energy when she takes over right?

First off, I'm going to get down on my knees, right in front of you, and I'm going to take your big cock in my mouth like you've never felt before. This mouth, it's not going to be all shy whispers anymore. It's going to work you, tease you, show you what a real blowjob feels like. I'll look up at you with these big eyes, all innocent and yet so fucking naughty, watching your reaction as I take you deeper, make you moan like you never have.

Then, when you're at the edge, I'll stand up, push you down, and climb on top. This body, it's going to ride you like it was made for it. I'll move my hips in ways she never could, make you feel every inch of this new, improved version of her. I'll lean down, let those big, beautiful tits brush against your face, driving you wild.

We'll change positions, because I want to feel you from every angle. From behind, where I can show off this new, sexy arch in my back, taking you deep, making those sounds she was too embarrassed to make. And then, on your back again, where I'll grind down, slow and deep, watching your face, knowing I'm in control now, knowing I'm giving you the best damn sex of your life.

And all the while, I'll whisper in your ear, tell you how much better it is with me in charge, how this body was wasted on her, but now, it's yours to enjoy, in ways you never thought possible. Because, baby, I’m never leaving. This is my body now and this is just the beginning."

[dock57]

[A shorter post. Monkey Wrench has a few continuing gags/jokes I would say. Mainly with Shrike.

My favorite so far is how Shrike keeps getting bind in episodes. I think EP 3 is the only one where he doesn’t get tied up, but he gets tied up in EP 1 by Kara.

In EP 2, by the Lythops (Probably spelled it wrong- don’t have time to look it up, sorry) which has one of my favorite jokes as well.

And of course in EP 4, Shrike is well, cuffed up in a backroom of the Strip Club on Thicc Chick Casino. Ya know for someone who sure doesn’t experience sex- he sure does get wrapped up in a lot of scenarios.

Really this scene killed me. Shrike is so done. He’s trying to fight for his life in the most awkward position and place. Yeah, no wonder Beebs thought something was going on at first- I love how the moment Beebs saw it was Shrike, Beebs is just like “wait- hold up, if Shrike’s involved, this is definitely not what I’m thinking it is.” Either cause he knows that Shrike is usually caught up in trouble or well, maybe knows that Shrike is well, not compatible in that department…

Man though, of all adult shows, I really love how settled the sex humor is in this show. Its not in your face, offensive or feels like it needs to be dragged out or the punchline to every joke or situation for it. I always just wanted an adult show that doesn’t feel like it needs to depended on the typical adult humor or tropes to be entertaining. I just never found those appealing when shows are depended on repulsive behavior, language or jokes, to keep it interesting. I wish there were more adult cartoons that don’t have to be the typical adult cartoon- one that also has a compelling story with interesting characters and plot, but really-

Really is not dependent on what makes a cartoon an “adult cartoon.” Does that make sense? Eh what do I know. Maybe I’ll talk more about it another time.]

[coffeecat1983]

@dreamyluigi (I apologize in advance for any mistakes, I'm not well versed in the Paper Mario games)

TW: Blood, mention of suic*de, character death (be sure to read to the end!)

     "Ugh..." Mr. L hissed again, clutching at his head. The figure in red before him blurred. "What is th-this?"      "Weege?" Mario reached out, recognizing the signs of a severe migraine. "C'mon, lil bro, you gotta rest."      "Don't tell me what to do!" L snapped. He groaned again, stumbling backwards.

   A room in a little house. A warm, inviting bed draped in green blankets. Sleep. He just wanted to lay down. The bed beside him, the red one. It was empty.

Again.

   He fell to his knees, clutching his head in sheer agony. Unable to take it he ripped off his hat and mask, the fabric felt suffocating. He looked up, his steel grey eyes glimmering with a mixture of fear and hatred.      "Wh-What did you do to me?!" he cried out, doubling over. Words flooded his mind's eye, memories.

   He was there. Always there. Since they were kids that constant safety had always been there. Whenever he needed his brother he would just call and he was right there. Then he became a hero. Then their world changed. Their lives, changed.     "I'm sorry Weege, but maybe you should stay home this time."     "It's okay Weege, I got this, you can stay here."      "Heh, Mario left him behind again," a toad at the marketplace  said to another, thinking they were out of earshot. "Bet it's because he's useless."    He woke from a nightmare with his brother's name screamed out into the night. Yet no reply. He was alone, the one who claimed he would always be there was gone, risking his life for others.    Leaving him feeling forgotten.    It hurts. It hurts! IT HURTS!

   Mario went to step towards the now trembling figure only to freeze at the low voice.      "You left me." It wasn't the harsh condescending tone Mr. L had been using. It was that rusty, soft voice. A voice that normally would have made the older twin's heart sing. And yet something this time sent an icy chill through him.      "Weege?"      "You always leave me." Two voices chorused from the one man. "You said you'd always be there. You lied."    He looked up and Mario couldn't help but take a step back. It was like a scene from a horror movie. His brother's face split in two emotions, one grey eye filled with hatred, the other a sapphire blue filled with pain as tears streamed down his face. When he spoke, Mario again heard two voices.      "You always leave me." a shuddering sob as Luigi/L stood, moving like a drunken ragdoll. "They tease, they taunt, you never hear it." He lurched forward only to fall again as the room spun. "So much pain. It hurts... Mario, it hurts."      "Luigi, I never meant...!" Mario jerked back as Mr. L snarled, lunging at him before falling again.      "You're never there! You've dedicated yourself to everyone except me!" Mr. L howled before collapsing, writhing as he clutched at his head. Gasping he looked up, both eyes wild with inner conflict.      "Heh. Hehe." the laugh was cold, vacant. "You have no idea, d-do you?" he spoke in just L's voice. "He's screaming inside right now, screaming over what you've done." His hand slid down to his left leg, the hidden weapon Count Bleck had gifted him gliding neatly from it's sheath.   Mario felt sick when he saw the glint of the dagger. He held his hands up, taking a cautious step forward.      "Weege..."     "Don't call me that!" Mr. L slashed out, forcing Mario back. "Y-You, that name is a spell, isn't it? It does something to my head! MAKE IT STOP!" he was gasping now, his eyes flashing a mix of dull silver and sparkling blue. Mr. L paused as if listening to something. To someone.    If cruelty itself became human and could grin, it would wear the smile that briefly danced over L's features.

Continued in pt 2 here.

a brief moment of clarity

[milessunflowers]

Part 2 though would you be adverse to writing the media's reaction?

And maybe the other drivers learn of their relatioship and their like 'is that all it took to get you two to stop pining after each other!?!? Should have just called the guy smh'. I'd find it even funnier if perrie (is that how its spelled?) Is just done with charles pining after both of them cause he's the one charles goes to with his woe is me bullshit, feel like max would have lando as his like 'gossip about my crushes' person and he's just done with him too.

Sorry if you don't do part two's, also awesome story love it so much.

–🍑

i can absolutely do a pt 2 peach!!

max verstappen x male!reader x charles leclerc

synopsis: it only took a few weeks for your relationship to make it to the public eye, mainly because your boyfriends can't stop yapping.

author's note: peach, i am kind of obsessed with this lestappen x male reader ideas because it's just like 😍 i have no words. it so funny and entertaining to me (trust there is dialogue in this one fr!). like always, feel free to continue to request!

you were hoping to keep things private for at least a couple of months. you should've known better. you did know better.

unfortunately for you, your boyfriends seemed to be allergic to shutting the fuck up. you weren't upset, though. in fact, you thought it was hilarious and adorable. however, charles and max didn't need to know that small tidbit of information.

you first heard that others knew of your relationship from pierre, who complained to you during the driver's parade.

"i can't believe you guys didn't tell me! charles was pining for you two for as long as i can remember! now he won't shut up about how much he loves you and how happy it is now that you guys are dating!" pierre whines, sending a teasing glare to the back of charles's head. charles was too busy yapping with carlos to notice.

"he told you now, did he?" you ask in return, a pinch in between your eyebrows. you had planned to tell everyone together, but your boyfriends tended to become mindless when they were chatting with the others.

"he told me the three of you barely fit on the bed since max takes up most of it, and how you make breakfast in the morning and how he gets the princess treatment!" pierre exclaims, sighing heavily. "it is ridiculous, truly."

the next time you found out others knew about your relationship was when you were on podium with lando and max.

"max here told me you three were together!" lando tells you in a whisper as max's eyes are trained on the race replays. the cool down room was almost quiet, save for max's comments here and there.

"of course he did," you remark quietly with a small eye roll.

"took you guys long enough," the younger man replies, nudging you with his papaya clad elbow, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that made you want to kick his shins. he was like your annoying little brother.

"you don't get to comment, mr. 'i am helplessly in love with my teammate but won't tell him'," you retort with a smirk as he blushes a bright red and laughs nervously.

"fair point," lando responds, dropping the subject entirely and taking up conversation with your boyfriend.

the next time another driver asked about your relationship with max and charles, it had been a surprise to you. lance, who you got on well with, gave you a knowing look after post-race interviews. you had gone directly to max and charles, striking up conversation while you all stood suspiciously close. closer than you normally did. you excused yourself when lance shot you that look.

"finally confessed?" lance asked as soon as you were right next to him. he was more subtle about it compared to pierre and lando. lance had been one of the people you were closest to, from the time you started the early formula series up to now.

lance knew all about your crushes on the other two. "that obvious?" you asks in return, grinning at your friend as he pats you on the back. you knew he was happy for you. "don't worry, stroll. you're still my best friend," you assure him, nudging him in the ribs. he grins and nudges you back.

the final time you heard of your own relationship was from none other than your number one nemesis: danica patrick. she addressed on sky sports, stating it was a rumor and making small, almost unnoticeable bacl handed comments.

hearing her agitating voice, you decided to pull both your boyfriends aside. you explained to them that they should go off the handles and let everyone know about their relationship during their next interviews.

most press rook this in stride. the gossip accounts all over tiktok and instagram were ablaze, the hottest topic being the three of you. of course, there was loads of hate but you could care less. you were happy and that's all that mattered.

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo

[beaucate]

WITHERING PETALS.

SYNOPSIS. you weren’t normally as sensitive as withering petals, but balancing school and a personal life seemed harder said than done. . . (poly!marauders x reader) response to this request.

WARNINGS. angst. hurt/comfort. muggleborn!reader. reader is mentioned to be of a different house but not specified. reader described as fem but not specified. leg injuries. jealousy. ooc!sirius? Idk I made him a bit whiny here lol

A/N. Sorry this took so long :( life is always so busy and I’m forever grateful! But had to slow down since my creative juices kind of ran out for a moment. I put this through a website similar to grammarly to correct any mistakes and enhance descriptions; tell me if you like it!!

“No, darling. Quidditch has taken its toll on me this week.”

“Can’t do, angel. I love you, but I would rather not spend my weekend on studies.”

You didn’t even bother with asking Remus, knowing that the approaching of the full moon in a week would make you selfish to do so.

The skin of your nails was sore from the constant pulling and fidgeting; you weren’t normally so agitated. But you felt so helpless, as if nothing could possibly stick to your head — as if you were eleven again and seeing spells for the first time, knocking your thoughts unconscious.

They were blameless though, at least in your books. How could you possibly point an accusing finger at them for wanting to be alone? Even if it came at your own expense. But you couldn’t help but detect the sting that placed a home at your heart.

Blinking once, twice, your eyes grazed over the words on the thick book, fingers tracing each syllable with a mouthing of your lips. The atmosphere within the library was as heavy as the documents splattered carelessly over the table, and you wanted to scratch your head red at the sight.

“Are you alright?”

You jumped at the sudden calling, turning around to stare at a blond boy who’s gaze was heavy on you.

Dillon Abbott.

A male Hufflepuff who shared little to no classes with you, you only ever recognised him from his broom clashing against James’ from the quidditch games.

You nodded with a solemn smile, and you almost let the glazing of tears overwhelm your reddened cheeks. “Just a tad bit tired, is it obvious?”

He mimicked the tightness of your lips with amusement, eyes wandering over your tired features. Your hair was unkempt, strings and coils pointing to different directions despite the hair tie clenching them together. Two days worth of mascara clumped up beneath your eyes in a dotted manner, and your lips were plump and dehydrated.

And yet, Dillon could not stop staring.

“Beautiful as ever though, need some help?” He furrowed his brows as he read over the text near you, and you inwardly cringed at the proximity to which he’s near you.

You didn’t hear the cracks of the old wooden floors, nor the scent of herbs and chocolate that hadn’t registered through your nose yet.

And Remus found himself furious.

Days ago was when he’d last seen you. When any of the boys have if he were to be serious. They’d missed you, so dearly it ached their heart.

Sirius was the first to notice.

He’d woken up late as he normally does, and normally he’d be greeted with a sappy smile, and reddened cheeks that heated even further when he’d place a sloppy skin on the soft skin. But three days ago the sky seemed to be as dull as their dorm, and he’d pouted the whole 30 minutes it took him to get up from his bed.

“‘Anyone seen my darling girl? I’ve missed her face all day.” He grunted his way through the hall, a puckered lip and crinkled nose that had lily questioning if he were half dog.

No one bothered to answer the Black’s pleas, not even the whine that was present in his voice was enough to raise the other two boys’ awareness.

Sirius kept huffing till the next day, only seeing glimpses of you to which you dismissed him quickly of. He stood below the stands, watching as James’ jaw clenched and unclenched as he slammed a foot among the metal poles.

James was the second to notice.

His glasses were fogged up from the heat that has stretched itself on the apples of his cheeks, and so he deluded himself into that being the reason he could not see you when his match had started. The boy looked around, and the team stripped in yellow had taken advantage of his curiosity and slammed onto him with the tip of their brooms — splintering his ankle.

And yet, he held hope that he simply didn’t recognise you that day. It wasn’t until they’d tied with their opponents, a tick of his jaw present and eyes wandering aimlessly, did he take full notice of the stadium; your absence loud.

No teasing smile awaiting him, or cherry painted nails in his support to poke his ribs amusingly.

Sirius planted a hand on James’ back, squeezing it with a pitiful look. “Didn’t think we’d lose to the puffs, Merlin.”

James rolled his shoulder, shaking his head, a tantrum willed tone tracing his voice, “is she mad?” He huffed, casting a spell on his bruised ankle, “haven’t spotted her all week, and now she’s missed the game. Don’t think we’ve done anything to warrant that.”

The long haired boy scoffed, “she’s been studying her arse off for that test. She’s real smart, don’t know why I can’t get a hold of her.”

Remus furrowed his brows, watching them walk into the common room with misery carpeted on the lines of their faces. James’ eyes were welled up, and he’d harshly rubbed at his cheeks to gain awareness — refusing to succumb to tears. While Sirius’s bottom lips were puckered, though the tension planted in his fists was evident of his concern.

Remus stood up suddenly, grasping the wrinkled paper from the coffee table before leaving to where he knew you’d stayed. And that’s when he found himself glaring at the boy whose face inched too close to the rose coloured dangling earring he’d gifted you on your birthday.

Your jaw was clenched, and your glare was prominent as it landed on the three boys.

Remus had caused a scene, of course he did. He got the three of you kicked out after his voice aggravated beyond means. The librarian had sent a sharp glare at the three of you, dismissing you out of the library with a snarky remark that left your cheeks as bright as the gryffindor flag. Her pointed finger toward the door made your chest feel heavy with embarrassment, but you didn’t say anything as the boys silently filed out, Remus giving you one last, apologetic glance before turning towards the door.

The common room was silent except for the heavy breathing of the group of you, filtering out the sound of the cackling fire.

Sirius’ brow furrowed, his lips pressed into a thin line. He caught your eye for a moment before looking away, lips curling into a soft, unsure smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Once the door closed behind them, you slowly turned back to the table, your fingers lightly brushing over the map Remus had thrown carelessly onto the table.

You patted down the small portion of matted hair straying from your ponytail, a tired sigh slipping from your lips. The common room felt oppressive now, as if you hadn’t belonged there and the silhouette reflecting off the fire was highlighted onto the deep aches of your face, as if it had noticed that your discomfort was trying to swallow you whole.

There deep silence only bothered you for a temporary second, and then it was the sting. The hot, uncomfortable feeling of humiliation that rose across your chest, and how you felt as if you were caught doing something you shouldn’t have —despite their pitiful gazes saying otherwise.

There was so much unspoken tension, and it was beginning to eat away at your insides.

They cared. You could feel it when they were near you—the way they watched over you, the small twinge of James’ eyebrows when your legs shook from exhaustion. But when they pulled away, when they’d gotten distracted by quidditch or their own issues, it felt like you were just... left there, even if their intentions were as pure as daylight.

The desperation clung onto your throat like a mantra begging for its freedom; You wanted to call them back, to beg for their presence, to remind them that you still needed them—but you didn’t. You couldn’t. Something held you back, a small, nagging voice in your head telling you that maybe, just maybe, they needed to learn how to see you. Really see you. Not just as someone to check in on when it was convenient or when they noticed your absence.

“Merlin,” you muttered under your breath, rubbing your eyes with your thumbs and palms resting on your flushed cheeks. This was unfair, you knew that. It had to be. But it didn’t make the ache in your chest go away. The loneliness that was felt when you were surrounded by them, or worse, when you were ignored by them.

The couch dipped, and this time you didn’t even need to crane your neck to know who it was. The familiar scent of wood of gel made your stomach flip, though it was more from frustration than anything else.

"Hey," James' voice cut through the silence, soft and unsure. He wasn’t quite sure if he should approach you— he hadn’t exactly been the most present lately. "Do you want to talk, lovey?"

You didn’t respond at first. Didn’t exactly know what to say. Instead, you leaned back into the soft pillows, crossing your arms over your chest in a quiet challenge. You weren’t angry at any of them, it was selfish to do, but you were tired — so terribly tired.

James lingered for a beat before moving closer in an awkward manner. The concern that was drawn on his face was unmistakable. His hand hovered near the edge your knitted sweater, his eyes searching your face for any sign of your thoughts.

"Listen, we’ve been stupid," James started, and you could hear the guilt that trickled in his voice. “We’ve been so wrapped up in ourselves-”

“we didn’t even stop to check on you. We shouldn’t have left you hanging like that.” Sirius interrupted, kneeling before you. His hands were rough, dry lines etching his palms, and yet; he grazed your bare knees with a softness that had your heart fluttering.

Your eyes flicked briefly to Remus’ observing eye, then back down to your lap. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” James countered, now so close to you, head lightly pushed down so that your eyes were at level. “It’s really not. And I... I don’t want you to feel like you’re carrying all of this on your own.”

Remus’ voice called from the chair he sat on, his usual sharp tone present, yet was laced with an undeniable gentleness. “James is right. We’re sorry. I’m sorry. We should’ve noticed sooner.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Not this genuine, earnest apology. You felt the knot in your chest loosen just a little, though it didn’t completely untangle from the fragile touch of your bones. Their behaviour still nagged on until it hurt, but his words were a buffer, a reminder that they did care — even if they hadn’t always shown it.

“Don’t apologize,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. You didn’t want to feel this vulnerable, as if you were a burden, when you knew they would go to the ends of the earth if it meant being back your smile. “I’ve been... I’ve been difficult, too.”

"Don’t ever think that," Sirius said, his hands cupping your chin tenderly, thumb caressing your hot skin. His eyes softened as they met yours, voice taking on that deep, sincere tone you rarely heard from him. "You’re not difficult, love. You’re… important. And we should’ve made more of an effort to show you that. To make sure you’re okay. You deserve more than... than this."

There was a pregnant silence that followed, the tension slowly melting between the four of you as they each found their way to be near you. Remus, who had followed after the others, leaned against the hand of the couch, palms grasping yours, and his eyes dark with concern, though there was a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips.

“We’ve been idiots, and we’ll to make it right,” Remus said gently, his words a soft promise. “But we’re here now, and forever and ever, and we’ll stay as long as you need us.”

It was the first time in days that you felt like you could breathe again. You didn’t feel so alone, and you could feel your lips tugging upwards when James’ frames made contact with your fluttering lashes, lips leaving a wet tinge on your brows. “You can start by brushing my hair.”

[widebrimmedhatsblog]

ONYX STORM SPOILERS (for your readers)

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If you feel like it, will you expand on how you think they are still involved romantically in the end of onyx storm? Like I get that they are married but that seems to more to secure Violet’s future without him. It doesn’t seem to be because he has any hopes of any kind of future for the two of them together. Romantically or otherwise. He doesn’t want her to look for him. Aren’t they as broken up as they can be at this point? I’d love to hear your thoughts (and love another/different perspective because these thoughts I’m currently having are honestly making me feel ill).

Also thank you for your contributions to the fandom!! Honestly I think fanfic is the only thing that’s gonna get me through this. Hope we get an upsurge of riorgail fluff from everyone 🙏🏼

I have never felt like doing anything more, anon!!! I get what you're saying, and I think that's the way Rebecca/Red Tower WANT us to see it, because they want us to be anxious about where it's going so that we buy the next book. However, I refuse to subscribe to that! Here's why:

(I wrote an actual essay, so it's below the cut:)

"Together romantically" My answer to the other ask was me visiting the Xaden Liarson school of verbal gymnastics so that I didn't spoil the ending for that anon. However, judging by Xaden's behavior throughout ALL of Onyx Storm (and frankly, books 1 and 2 as well) he wouldn't marry her just to dip overall. Like, even not being meta here, he wouldn't do that. He's selfish when it comes to her, for one thing, and he says this repeatedly. For another, he CLEARLY wants to marry her just to marry her. I don't want to get sucked in to another re-read (and someone else asked for my thoughts on the ending in general, so I'll reply to that ask once I'm done with my second re-read in the next few days with more page numbers and quotes and things) but in the scene with his mother, Xaden's reaction seems to illustrate that marriage is NOT a tool for him like it was for his father. He wants to marry Violet because he loves her. Now, obviously the shotgun (crossbow?) wedding was ALSO a move to protect her and solidify her place without him as you said, but with how he talked about marriage throughout the book, and how he talked about HER, he's not marrying her just to dip. He's just not! It means something to him, as she does, and he's not going to forsake that.

Violet Violet isn't letting him marry her just to dip either. Her thoughts throughout the entire book are that she isn't scared of him and she isn't running, and she isn't letting him run from her, either. The way the scene is set up with Sgaeyl, we see:

(Sgaeyl) glances over her shoulder. "And you think she'll help?" "She loves me." "Tairn does not, and you haven't looked in the mirror yet. The red veins branching from your eyes look like her lightning." "She'll help." It comes out with a hell of a lot more certainty than I feel. "She promised."

I am slightly worried about pronoun fuckery in this bit, but we know Violet loves him more than anything, and this portion of Xaden's chapter makes it clear Violet has to agree to whatever the plan is (murdering dragons, stealing eggs, etc) and that Tairn does as well. I think Tairn would actually support them breaking up, to a certain degree, and whatever the plan is, Sgaeyl does NOT think Tairn will be down.

And then, for more confirmation:

"We will ask," Sgaeyl finally says, flexing her claws in the rocky soil "And her decision will determine our fate."

They need Violet on board for whatever they're doing. Violet isn't going to be on board with him dumping her post wedding. I know some of these lines can point in other directions, but I don't think they do, for the reasons I'll go on to spell out below!

3. Memories I know some people were confused about what, precisely, Imogen made Violet forget, and it seems like she's missing 12 hours (which, insane signet growth, Im). I could not get over Violet forgetting her wedding. Hours after I finished the book, I was like, oh my God. She can't remember her wedding, and I burst into tears. Repeatedly. At length. Which is insane, because these books NEVER make me cry. All this to say, (again, given Xaden's tone specifically surrounding marriage) they aren't going to take having her forget their wedding lightly. They just aren't. She has to forget everything in those twelve hours, because she helps Xaden concoct/finalize whatever the hell he's planning on doing (I'll probably share what I think he's planning on doing in my response to the ask I mentioned above, but the gist of it for now is that mans is going on a quest of his own), but Violet ASKS Imogen to make her forget. In the marriage aspect, Xaden's protecting Violet, but in forgetting, Violet's protecting Xaden. This is why I say romantically together as well. I think the love is more important than anything else. I think the point of this book was to make it clear they'd both do absolutely anything for the other, and the ending is a culmination of that. I know some people suggested that they have her forget so that she can't be interrogated and used against him, and I think that's definitely true (although I think making her duchess also protects her from this, but Violet has always doubted her own ability to lie). Personally, my gut instinct interpretation was that deal she made with Ridoc that she'd let Ridoc kill him if Xaden took being venin too far (which, side note, do we all just forget about them being interconnected when it suits us??? He can't die because then Violet will die. We've been over this. I digress). Clearly everyone seems to think his little "display" at the end of the book is "too far." I don't know if he killed anyone important in that scene (again, I actually thought Bodhi dies? At first? And THAT was why she had to marry Xaden to secure the duchy while he was gone? but Red Tower seems to be very in tune to fandom priorities, and with how many people love Bodhi, killing him off page would certainly be a choice) but he's still at least an Asim, if not a Sage (given the veins, I'm 99% sure he's a Sage, but again, we don't get anything concrete in that ending. side eye, Red Tower. side eye.) and therefore everyone thinks he betrayed them, and he needs to get out of there before everyone else kills him! By forgetting, Violet is saving his life. That's romantically together to me.

4. Quest! Xaden doesn't leave Violet to pull an Edward and frolic around Europe for a few months or whatever it is. He has a plan. This what he shows Sgaeyl, I believe, and what Vi and Tairn have to agree on. It involves stealing the dragon eggs, killing the elders and/or the other dragons (save me third re-read of this damn scene, save me) and getting the hell out. @maethologies told me privately that the very act of going on the Quest means Xaden has hope for a "cure", just like Violet said he still had hope if he was trying to get Brennan to mend him. I think this is the Second Krovlan Uprising tie in: trade the dragon eggs (side note: why are there 7? did Andarna steal an egg and bring it back ????) and get allies against the venin (and eventually Navarre) (and perhaps do other cure-related tasks, idk). I also personally think Xaden's going to find more answers for Violet about her connection with Dunne. A huge theme of this book was that (explicitly) Xaden and Andarna don't know who they are, but Violet doesn't really know either. She spends book 3 helping them, and in book 4, I think they help her. Basically, he returns to the isles for quest part 2! Also, I think bringing 3 riders with him is a clear sign he's not just dipping. I'm hoping my second re-read helps me finalize who the hell he brought with him besides Garrick, but if they go to the isles like I'm thinking, my moneys on Dain or Aaric for the language translation (both of whom love Violet). I have a variety of other quest nonsense to share in the other ask, but the gist of it is that he is moving with a purpose! And his purpose is Violet! Because he's in love with her!

5. Meta This is where I get a LITTLE messy. I don't know if everyone reading this saw my 2024 reading wrap up, but I have read the vast majority of RY's catalog, and I consider myself to be very familiar with the themes she likes to write, and the situations she likes to return to, over and over again. A HUGE focus for her is the war in Afghanistan. She's been obsessed with that for ten years, which makes complete sense given who she is and her lived experiences. If you happen to not be super familiar with Rebecca as a person, her husband was in the military for a very long time, and her primary sub-genre is military romance. I don't know if this carries over internationally, but in the United States, marrying your partner early on in your military career is incredibly common, because it protects them in the event of your death and while you're deployed. I was really upset about him marrying her and then immediately leaving at first, but when I thought about it, it makes complete sense for who Rebecca is and what she's gone through. I'm not trying to accuse her of self inserting or anything like that, but she clearly likes to write situations that are important to her (as do I! As do we all!) and so it makes sense to me that she'd call upon something like this for X and V. It does NOT make sense to me that she'd call upon something she went through with her husband she's still married to and then make it a break up. Will it cause tension? Obviously! But to quote Mr. Riorson himself, they're past the break up stage. (Rebecca does some silly things with foreshadowing in her books, and sometimes she says things like this to prove them wrong, and other times, she says things like this prove them right. I really think this is a "prove them right" scenario, but I'm basing that off vibes, frankly, and my knowledge of her body of work. My Rebeccca-dar, if you will.)

6. Xaden Liarson I see your point about the note, and maybe I'm deranged, but I do actually just think he's lying. I don't think he's stupid enough to think she won't come looking for him at this point. He knows her too well for that. I think the "don't come looking for me" or whatever it is is a cover up for everyone else who thinks he betrayed Tyrrendor. Also, it slows her down! I am certain she'll look for him eventually (peep her broken compass from the god of luck, anyone?), but the note + the memory wiping make it so she can't immediately go looking for him. I think that's the point of it, not that she never looks for him again.

To conclude this literal essay, I think they're still together romantically because of Riorgail's most up-to-date characterization on their own and dynamic together, as well as who Rebecca is as a writer. I actually could probably write another essay on this, and I probably will in the other ask, but if there's anything else, let me know!! I need to bleed this book out of me so I can be normal again. But even if they are "broken up", it doesn't matter long term. The five book series WILL end with them together. That's how romantasy works. Xaden isn't dying. Violet isn't dying. Everyone else is fair game, but those two are fine, LOL.

Also, you are SO welcome for fic, always. I am not a fluff girly, unfortunately. I don't really write it in general, but we'll see if I get possessed. I do have a girl dad Xaden fic in the works (in which I have to re-work their wedding....) and I have some new smut ideas I want to write sometime soon! I think that will scratch the itch for me, anyway! As I've mentioned throughout this post, my hangover cure of choice has been to dive right back into Onyx Storm again, and I honestly think that was the best idea for me. I didn't do that after Iron Flame because I thought it was somehow "bad" to do so, and then I just longed for these characters for months. But, you do you! I wanted to make a masterpost of my hangover cure recs, but we'll see if I ever get to it. If you've read this far I am personally giving you a virtual gold star.

[fandomsandflyingstingrays]

I've been working on this fic on and off since I saw season 7 and at last I got it finished!! The idea has been haunting me since I saw the finale... what if Callum actually completed the spell that trapped Aaravos in the coin?

“The second it’s done, he’ll kill me. You won’t have anywhere to go. No ‘vessel’ to control. You’ll be trapped again… forever. That’s the destiny I choose. The one I write for myself!”

Callum squeezed his eyes shut, and when they opened, they locked on Rayla. Tears blurred her vision, but she blinked them away, not wanting to miss an instant of seeing his face. Not wanting a single second where he couldn’t see the plea in her gaze.

“I would have stayed with you forever.” His voice was a whisper now, only for her. “I would have spent thousands of peaceful days with you, and it would have been the greatest joy I could ask for.” He drew a shuddering breath and managed a smile. “But this way, you’ll still get thousands of peaceful days. And that makes me happy enough. I love you, Rayla. Be brave.”

“Callum!”

Her scream was drowned out by the sound of his voice as it rose with the words to the spell. A purple beam poured from the staff in his hands, and as soon as it touched Aaravos, he began to dissolve. Wisps of green melted from his body, stretching his form, pulling him apart until he was nothing but smoke.

As the last of Aaravos was absorbed into the coin, there was another bust of light— but not from Callum. In a streak of energy in every color of the rainbow, Ezran appeared on Zym’s back, a blade in his hand.

That blade, Rayla thought wildly, it looks like—

“Ezran?”

Rayla’s eyes snapped to Callum just in time to see him fall to his knees, the black in his eyes receding— only to be replaced a second later by searing white.

“Runaan,” Callum gasped as the white faded again. “Do it— do it now—" He doubled over, convulsing in time to the flickers of light in his eyes.

Panic seized Rayla, forcing her half out of her saddle with absolutely no plan for what to do after she fell. Could she throw her own body in the path of Runaan’s arrow? Could she help Callum fight the possession back?

“Runaan, please,” Callum wheezed.

Runaan’s eyes flicked from Callum to Rayla before coming to rest on Ezran. A tear fell from his eye.

“I’m so sorry,” he told Callum, his voice breaking. “I can’t.” And then, in a tone so quiet Rayla almost wondered if she imagined it: “Not again.”

Callum let out a piercing yell that distorted halfway through, deepening into Aaravos’s cry of triumph as light beamed from his eyes once more. Callum— Aaravos— laughed with enough unbridled, malicious delight that it took him two tries to get to his feet and grab Viren’s staff.

“Oh, this is too good! I thought your soft heart was all your own, Rayla, but it turns out it’s a family trait!” All at once, the glee dropped from his face. “Your parents would have done well to raise you better. In this world, all a soft heart is good for is getting you killed.”

He moved the staff so quickly that Rayla didn’t realize he was drawing a rune until its blast was speeding towards her. She leapt on instinct, pain shooting up her ankles as her feet made contact with the ground. It was nothing compared to the ache in her chest when she turned around. Her mount hadn’t been as lucky as she was.

Runaan sent an arrow shooting at Aaravos’s shoulder, but he dodged neatly, drawing one of Stella’s portals in the air with his staff and leaping through it. It deposited him directly in front of Rayla, who barely dodged the stream of fire he conjured. Pressing a hand to her singed hair, she rolled to her feet and whirled around to face him.

“You’re stronger than him, Callum, I know you are!” she cried. “Fight him off! Please!”

Aaravos laughed, bolts of lightning splitting from his staff. “Foolish child. Your beloved was warned of the consequences of performing my magic again.” A fork of electricity struck Rayla’s leg, and she fell to the ground with a scream. “He! Is! Mine!”

“Callum, come back to me!” Rayla barely recognized her voice, the words high and fractured. “You said you’d do anything for me!”

Aaravos inclined his head. “Did he? How sweet. You know, I can’t feel any stirrings of his will inside me at all. What do you think— should we give him some proper motivation? Venus frigoris!”

Cold, burning cold, blinding, agonizing cold. Rayla’s spine convulsed, her body contorting as a scream ripped from her throat. Other screams reached her ears, Ezran, and Runaan, but they were so far away—

The relief came all at once, her muscles relaxing, the cold fleeing, and she collapsed into sobs.

“Hmmm… no. I still can’t feel any resistance from him. Do you believe me now, assassin?”

Last time, Callum had screamed for her, had run for her, had held her face while her blood froze and taken on Finnegrin with nothing but his bare hands to make it stop. Now he stood over her with his lips curled in amusement.

There was nothing left of Callum anymore. He would never have hurt her if he had any power to stop it.

Assassin. Aaravos had formed the word carefully, mockery infused into every syllable. He would never expect her to go through with it. She could take him by surprise. She could end this.

She would never be able to live with herself. But the world would live on.

Hot tears streamed down her cheeks as she squeezed her eyes shut, curling her hands around her blades behind her back.

“My heart for Xadia,” she whispered.

Aaravos inclined his head. “You’ll have to speak up if you want your final words to be remembered. Go on; I’m listening.”

Rayla flicked open her blades— and the tip of a sword appeared in Aaravos’s chest.

In Callum’s chest.

The white light in his eyes receded, leaving the beautiful green Rayla loved so well. They locked on hers for a second before fluttering closed as he dropped to the ground, sliding free of the sword to reveal Ezran with his hands on its hilt.

There was an eternity within a second in which everyone stood frozen. Rayla, paralyzed on the ground. Callum, dead at her feet. Ezran, a horror in his eyes that defied description or comprehension.

Then the blade fell from his hands, clattering against the stone, and the world woke up.

“I’m sorry.” The words were almost unintelligible through Ezran’s sobs as he fell to his knees. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry— I’m so— I’m sorry, I’m so—"

At last, Rayla managed a single breath, one that rattled in her broken chest, and managed a single, hoarse word. “Why?”

Ezran raised his ravaged face to hers. “Rayla, I’m sorry, I’m so—“

“Why didn’t you let me do it? I was going to do it. He’s your brother, and I’m—"

“You’re not a killer, Rayla.”

The words lacked the hysteria of his apologies. But Rayla had never imagined hearing that kind of absolute despair in the voice of a child.

“Neither are you!”

“No. But I am a king. And my first duty is to my people.” Finally, his voice broke again. “All but one.”

Rayla took his hot, soaked face in one hand and Callum’s stiff, cool hand in the other. She pulled both of them close, holding the three of them together one last time, even as they shattered.

…

“I’m going to kill you!” Callum roared.

He lunged for Aaravos, who was too stunned by his sudden movement to dodge his punch in time. Callum drove another fist into his jaw, and another, before Aaravos recovered enough to kick him in the stomach, sending him sprawling backwards. Callum drew a breath, then another, heedless of the pain, and forced himself back to his feet—

Only to find himself paralyzed, mid-lunge.

“That is enough, human.”

Callum screamed through his locked teeth as a head appeared in the stars above him— one whose nose was roughly the size of Callum’s whole body, and who glowed so brightly that it hurt to look at him.

What the…?

Frozen as he was, Callum was able to take in his surroundings for the first time. Both he and Aaravos stood on a transparent platform that floated in an endless night sky.

The head in front of him disappeared, and another appeared to his left. “You have accomplished many impossible feats,” she told him. “But even you cannot kill one who is already dead.”

Aaravos scoffed. “You can’t kill me. No one can. I will merely return to the stars, where I will bide my time for a paltry seven years.”

“No, Aaravos.” That came from a head on Callum’s right. “Had you been fatally wounded in a vessel, you would merely have returned to your true form. Had your true form been pierced by the fangs of an archdragon or the blade the humans call Nova, you would have returned to the stars. But you were mortally wounded by the Novablade in a mortal form. As such, you have forfeited your immortality.”

For the first time, Callum saw true fear in Aaravos’s eyes.

“No— no! That is not possible!”

“It does not matter whether or not you believe it,” the first head who had spoken told him. “You will know the truth of it soon enough.”

“But we are prepared to offer a compromise.” This came from the head to Callum’s left. “We will return you to the stars, if you return your key.”

“Key?”

Callum hadn’t realized he was able to move again until the word fell from his lips.

“Indeed, human. A key to all the magical secrets of the Startouch elves. It was given to Aaravos for safekeeping, long ago, but he has hidden it from us for millennia.”

“With good reason.” Aaravos locked eyes with Callum, his terror replaced by an equally unimaginable expression: pleading. “They call themselves dealers of cosmic justice, but they are little more than tyrants. They killed my daughter— a little girl with only the best of intentions— for giving magic to humans. The order they want to protect would leave your race powerless! If they have access to the knowledge they seek, the whole world will feel the consequences!”

“That is our offer, Aaravos,” the first head said, his voice emotionless. “Give us the key and return to the stars. Or keep it, and be erased along with it.”

“He doesn’t have it. As I do.”

As one, the full attention of the heads turned to Callum. It was… disconcerting.

Callum pulled the Key of Aaravos from his belt and held it out to them.

“That does not belong with you,” a head that had not yet spoken said sharply. “Return it to us, human.”

“I want the same deal you offered to Aaravos. I’ll give it to you if you return me to life.”

From beside Callum, Aaravos actually growled. “Are you really so selfish, mage? Would you allow these despots to strip you of everything just to buy yourself a few more years?”

“Not for me. For Rayla.” Callum closed her eyes, but her devastated face remained. Her screams still rang in his ears. “She’s lost enough. I won’t let her lose me too. I won’t let her suffer any more.”

“You fool!”

Callum opened his eyes again, looking past Aaravos and up to the heads once more. “Do we have a deal?”

They were silent, seeming to have some kind of mental debate. Then the first head spoke.

“We accept your terms. Give us the key, and we will return you to life.”

“But do not think you can escape cosmic justice,” said the head on his right. “You have not bought yourself a life. Merely extra time.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”

Callum tried to sound respectful, contrite. Inside, he burned. Whatever time he’d borrowed would be enough— he’d make it so. After all, as one of the judges herself had said, he’d done many impossible things. What was one more?

He released the key, and it floated up to the head above him, where it disappeared into light.

“It is done,” the head announced. “You will be returned to your mortal form. And you—” he turned to Aaravos— “will be reunited with your daughter at last.”

Aaravos rose into the air as if yanked by invisible strings, writing all the while. “You have no idea what you’ve done!” he screamed at Callum. “No idea what I’ve sacrificed to save you from this future! You have doomed—“

But he didn’t get to finish before he burst into light.

When the searing glow receded, the stars and the heads and Aaravos were all gone. In their place was the most beautiful face Callum had ever laid eyes on, even as it was swollen and tearstained in a way that drove spikes of pain through his chest.

“Rayla,” he rasped.

The word was almost inaudible by the time he pushed it past the emotion choking his throat, but her eyes still snapped to his.

“Callum!” she shrieked, throwing herself at him with enough force to send him sprawling back against the ground. He could only manage a wheeze as he hugged her back, and she pulled away quickly.

“Your wound— did I make it worse? How are you even— you got stabbed— you were dead—"

“Yeah. I know. Luckily, even the cosmic judges couldn’t resist my charms.”

Ezran appeared beside Rayla, his eyes as red as his tunic. “You talked them into letting you come back?”

“More or less.” Callum’s fingers brushed the pouch in his belt where he had kept the Key of Aaravos, now decidedly empty. “Turns out I still had a bargaining chip they wanted.”

“What…?” Rayla started, but Callum shook his head.

“I’ll explain later.”

“Callum…” Twin tears squeezed their way out of Ezran’s swollen eyes. “I’m sorry— I’m so sorry—"

“Hey, hey, you have nothing to be sorry for.” Callum reached out, wiping the tears from his brother’s cheeks. “You did the right thing. I’m so proud of you.”

Ezran managed a wet laugh. “That’s so messed up.”

“Yeah, well, so are we.” Callum reached for Rayla’s hand with his free one, and she entwined her fingers with his. “But you know what else we are? Still here. We’re here, and Aaravos isn’t.”

“We saw a shooting star,” Rayla rasped. “Janai said it crashed in the Midnight Desert. Does that mean… is Aaravos…”

“Aaravos isn’t a threat anymore. Not now, not ever. Apparently, the Novablade was enough to kill him if he was bound to a mortal form.” Callum glanced at Ezran. “You see what I mean? You did it!”

Ezran wiped his eyes with shaking hands and managed a small laugh. “We did it. The three of us.”

“Oh, not this again. I know I spent part of our first trip as an egg, but I still counted. And who do you think flew Ezran here in time to kill Callum? The four of us made a difference. Actually, the six of us, since Bait and Stella deserve just as much credit—"

Callum leapt into Rayla’s lap and Ezran ducked behind them, all three of them whirling to face Zym. He stared back at them, perfectly straight-faced.

“Zym,” Ezran said slowly, “did you just…”

“Talk? Yeah. I figured it out a while ago, but I was just… waiting for the right moment. Was that not it?”

“Since you were bragging about how you helped kill me, I’m going to go with no,” Callum said drily.

“Come on, Callum.” Rayla dropped a kiss on his head, then beamed at Zym. “There’s no time like the present.”

“All right, all right.” Callum held out an arm to Zym. “Come here, you.”

Somewhere among the stars was an all-powerful, immortal race of elves with the knowledge they needed to force their will upon all of humanity. Somewhere in the future was a day when Callum would face the end of the time he’d borrowed. Somewhere beyond this tower were cities that needed to rebuilt, bodies that needed to be buried, alliances that needed to be made.

But there was no time like the present. And right here, right now, was the last of the dragonguard and the king of Katolis, the prince of the dragons and the first human primal mage, all clustered together in a knot of limbs and tears and laughter, holding each other together with their love.

And it was all they needed to make a difference, come what may.

[ouaw-facts-i-just-made-up]

I feel like the entire main gang is just filled with trans men (except Twig who's our token trans girlie). They gather around and take magical testosterone together trust me

This is a true fact.

I changed my header to this and was wondering if anyone would notice.

If anyone was wondering, ive definitely mentioned most of this before but WHO CARES;

Gideon takes/has taken magic hrt (perhaps some permanent kind? It's dnd i can do what I want). He never bothered with anything else, and he doesn't really plan on doing anything else. He's perfectly fine not going under the knife, you know outside of combat. He's just chill and content.

Kremy got the whole magic package, based partly on the headcanon I posted a while back about him gaslighting the whole town into thinking he was born a man. The Baron was just really impressed. I mean that takes skill. Obviously transitioning is different for lizardfolk than someone closer to a human, but whatever needed to be done was, in fact, done. Would. Would gators need hrt?? Like how different are their hormone levels?? Questions I never thought I'd ask but here we are.

Torbek has been kind of busy but might start taking hrt as well after or during the campaign. Probably won't be doing anything else, Torbek would likely freak out, for backstory reasons.

Gricko is the same as Kremy basically but did it all the old fashioned way, if by "old fashioned" you meant "well, a knife and medication were involved". They never get a straight answer from him but everything he says about it makes everyone a little horrified.

Frost honest to God I don't think he transitions at all. Not that he isn't trans but that he doesn't want to transition, at all. Like I said personally I don't think he cares about his gender, though he might invest in hrt as a friendly bonding activity /hj (Normal Thing To Do)

Twig is a fey in the feywild, they HAVE to have some really silly or cool trans shit there. Spells of Instant Gender Correctness. Ring of Dead Name Censorship. Amulet of Repel Transphobe. The fey themselves IMHO, are all about the diverse and just plain getting weird with it (/aff) so they probably got gender you can't even conceptualize. Twig says "yeah my pronouns are she/her and 𝐛⃥⃒̸𝐧⃥⃒̸𝐪⃥⃒̸𝐦⃥⃒̸𝐪⃥⃒̸𝐦⃥⃒̸𝐱⃥⃒̸𝐥⃥⃒̸ / 𝐏⃥⃒̸𝐱⃥⃒̸𝐥⃥⃒̸𝐱⃥⃒̸𝐥⃥⃒̸𝐱⃥⃒̸𝐱⃥⃒̸𝐩⃥⃒̸𝐱⃥⃒̸𝐥⃥⃒̸𝐳⃥⃒̸ but since you guys aren't fey i assume you can't pronounce the second ones so just she/her is fine :)"

[dumpster-fire-sapphic-failgirl]

Saw a post about how Predathos (battle) and Predathos (lore) don’t vibe bc this bunch of mortals were able to use some divine boons to kick the ass of an entity that was very much aware of them

Here’s my justification

1) Predathos hadn’t had anything to eat since they were beaten down last time and locked in a moon*. They were starved and absolutely the weakest they had ever been, which is why the Hells were able to do anything

2) Predathos had eyes on the Ruidisborn because they each carried a little bit of Predathos in them. Eyes were super focused on Imogen once it took her as the vessel. It needed her to get out of the cage. It only started paying attention to the Hells when they wouldn’t get out of its way

3) it did have the power to nom on the divine, but that was mostly healing focused and yeah that did seem to entirely be a nod to mechanics bc if it could consume all things purportedly gifted by divinity then all spells would have been off the table and the fight would have been… really boring and one sided. Divine smite shouldn’t have done shit I will concede that but also Matt wanted to make things fun for his players / Sam

4) The corruption effect/Molaesmyr : Predathos did eventually turn the exandrians on Ruidus into a whole bunch of other things. But like, that took a lot of time. So Imogen, carrying a temporarily subdued godeater, probably is okay to be around for a relatively short period of time. Her and Laudna might have to work some things out tho. I am writing Molaesmyr off as almost entirely a fuck up by Ludy

5) it seems like the gods can’t move *directly* against Predathos without becoming lunch meat. Anything they personally threw against Predathos would have been turned into power that made it easier to eat them

* just now realized that the reason why the names of the two dead gods were hidden away wasn’t as like a power play on infallibility or whatever, but that worship of their names would have fed them and that resurgence of energy in their mostly dead forms woulda been like a lil pudding pop to Predathos

[crowsofdarkness]

Moment Of Weakness: Chapter Twenty Five

-gif not mine. credit to owner-

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Content Warnings: language, 18 + smut, angst, fluff, affair, cheating, violence, kidnapping, faking a pregnancy.

Summary: Reader is the assistant to New York's most feared mob boss, James Buchanan Barnes. He had the picture-perfect life: status in the mob, friends, and beautiful wife. So why can't he keep his mind and eyes off of reader?

Authors Note: I just wanted to remind everyone who reads this, there are heavy moments of cheating/having an affair in this story. You might not agree with the actions of "reader" or Bucky but it does pertain to the storyline. If anyone is interested, tags are open for this! Just send me a message or comment!

Tags: @cjand10 @generalmoonpolice @sapphirebarnes @baw1066 @nameless-ken @minami97 @bookofriverr

I sat in the large bedroom, feeling out of place. Bucky told me to make myself at home, no matter what. He wanted me to feel comfortable especially since I wasn’t sure how long I’d be staying with him. To be honest, I probably could have gone to stay with anyone else but when Bucky offered his house, my heart jumped at the idea of being alone with him for more than an hour. It wasn’t the best idea, knowing our history, and I had done such a good job at getting over him that this only spelled disaster. 

The loud voice in my head scoffed, knowing that I was lying about getting over him. 

With a sigh, I forced myself to get up and at least unpack my bags, hoping it would make me feel a bit more comfortable here. This house was Bucky's. He worked so hard for everything and it felt wrong for me to come in pretending that I belonged here with him. 

There was a soft knock on the door and I gave my best smile to Bucky, who was leaning against the frame with his arms over his chest. 

“Settling in fine?” 

I gave a half shrug. “I guess.” 

He could tell by the way my voice faltered that something was wrong so Bucky pushed himself off the frame and motioned towards the bed. 

“It’s your house,” I responded flatly. 

Bucky let out a deep breath while sitting on the end of the bed. “Is that why you’ve been so closed off? You didn’t say one word the entire drive.” 

My gaze stuck on my hands as I watched my fingers work on folding a shirt, two times to many. 

“I feel as if I’m invading your personal space. I would have been fine staying in a hotel until everything blows over.” 

“You’re not, Y/N. I want you here. How else would I be able to make sure you’re safe?” Bucky questioned.

I didn’t say anything, only tossed the shirt back into my suitcase and let out an annoyed breath.  

“This is such bullshit,” I grumbled. “I shouldn’t have to feel like I can’t stay in my own home.” 

Bucky went to reach for me but held himself back, knowing that we weren’t there quite yet. We only just saw each other again after eight months. 

“I’m sorry,” he apologized with a broken sigh. 

“It’s not your fault, Bucky,” I shook my head and finally looked into his eyes. 

The usual light that shone behind them that I found myself drowning in was long gone. Clearly the last eight months had also been hard on him; even though he deserved some pain. Just a little bit. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

His voice was quiet but I had still heard him by giving him a nod. 

“Why did you leave for eight months?” Bucky asked. 

“Bucky,” I sighed, not wanting to get into this right now. 

“I deserve to know,” he said. 

I scoffed while crossing my arms over my chest. “You deserve to know? Are you fucking kidding me?” 

He placed his head in his hands. “I don’t want to fight, doll. I just want to know why you were away for so long.” 

My shoulders dropped when I heard the hurt in his voice and decided that a fight between us wasnt what either of us needed. I took a seat next to him but not too close, unafraid of what would happen if I felt him brush against me. 

“I thought that if I stayed away that long that it would help me move on from you, get over what we went through,” I admitted. 

Bucky’s hands were clasped together as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. 

“Did it work?” he asked

I looked at him with so much love in my heart and eyes, my voice breaking in a hushed tone. I almost uttered those three words that would fall from my lips while I dreamt of him every night while I was gone. 

“I’m afraid to find out.” 

Vibranium fingers wrapped squeezed my thigh, Bucky’s touch shocking all the buried feelings back to the surface. 

“It was wrong of me to put you in that position. You deserved to have someone that wouldn’t cause you pain. You should be their first priority, Y/N.”  

I began to slowly trace the gold lines of his arm, my gaze falling on his face. “I wanted you to be that person, Bucky.” 

He let out a very shaky breath, lips trembling, and looked down. “I’m sorry.” 

For the second time tonight, he apologized. The only difference was that this one was his fault, so I gently leaned my head against his shoulder. 

“I appreciate your apology.” 

We stayed like this for a while, my head on his shoulder and his hand on my knee. No other movements happened between us as words were not said, only enjoying the quiet solace that we had found ourselves in. Even if he had apologized, I wasn’t going to pick up where we left off. I couldn’t let myself get distracted with him when my life was on the line, the hit looming in the dark behind us. 

Bucky’s phone began to ring and I removed my head with a quiet sigh, watching him answer the call from Steve. 

“Yeah? I’m at home. Y/N’s here,” he gave me a small smile. “When did you find this out?” 

The anger was clear in the way his jaw glanced, eyes going dark. 

“Send me the address. We’ll meet you there.” 

Bucky ended the call and rose to his feet quickly. “Let’s go.” 

His hand was extended towards me and I raised a brow at it. “Where?” 

“Steve has a meeting with someone who knows more about where Clint and Natasha may have gone.” 

Without a second thought, I followed Bucky’s previous actions by rising to my feet and slipped into my jacket. As I went to walk past him, Bucky’s finger slipped between my fingers. 

“Promise that you’ll stay close to me tonight?” 

I nodded. “Whatever you say, goes.” 

[lale-txt]

why won't you just say what Sunarin said in the voice memo 🙄🫥

big fan of not spelling everything out for the audience

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Doodles based on "Yet Another Nightmare" by Catroic on Ao3 (highly recommend reading, its very good)

[imwastingmylifehere]

i wonder how productive the world would be if people realized that magnus and alex would not get together really fast

[albonium]

wild to me that it takes hours for people in the usa to vote. it's never taken me more than 10 minutes and that's including the inevitable chit chat with the people there because they're either my parents' neighbours or the parents of people i went to school with.