#lore drops are usually SO MY THING but NOT TODAY

[blackmosscupcakes]

Trying to watch this lore dump Fantasy High episode with a fever is really something 🙃

[trulyumai]

His Little Wife

Synopsis: Messmer is away, fending off the shadows of the land; for weeks, months, his wife awaits his return until finally, she's by her husbands side once more.

Pairing: Messmer x Reader (Pre-Fallen Messmer)

Warnings: None

A/N: Finals are kicking my ass. RIP to my GPA. Also, so anxious for the drop of the DLC, this man has invaded my thoughts. Because of no release yet, I can only go off of so much information/lore, some things I just had to fabricate.

Enjoy!

Listen and read with my Messmer playlist ! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Lv2RUNKH2voR45QP07ryd?si=WjtWV47iSiywnT7JhADyUg&pi=u-iz0Wfu53T36-

The crackling of fire danced across her pupils, illuminating the worried expression delicately held upon her face.

Glancing upon the door repeatedly, thoughts incessantly pushed and shoved into her mind. Fears, doubts, all involving one man.

Messmer; he was to return today. 

After a long voyage and incessant errands for his mother, he could finally retire home to his little cottage: his little wife.

With her index and thumb, she twirled the silver and gold inscribed ring placed upon her finger, circling it on and off as troubled worries paraded around with ease. 

Not being able to bear it once more she bolted up, needing something- anything to occupy the heavy mind she bore. 

Picking up the nearest broom, she heard a small, frail creaking of a door being unlatched. 

Her front door was inches open, the iron latch swung to and fro as the material of the door grinded against the floor. 

Pulling her shawl close, she skirted across the room before eyeing the garden entrance. It was pouring; the rain was coming sideways, she noticed, repeatedly making the woman blink the wet, unwanted drops from her lashes.  

The light shine from the Erdleaf flowers littered the stone clad walkway, making a perfect path to the cozy home the younger lady made home merely months prior. . 

Grabbing the door, she stubbornly tried to latch it closed once more, the wind fought with the action, pushing against it with a rebelling strength. 

Letting out a huff the girl placed herself entirely on the frame, letting the door shut with a loud slam. 

Reaching up and fiddling with the lock her hands were wet; slippery from the invaded droplets of rain. 

Finally having it closed her figure slouched against the wood, lightly out of breath and now soaked, the smell of petrichor invaded her senses, shoving past the natural wood and honey scent that usually parades around the cabin. 

It was then she noticed the figure standing just beside the fireplace, warming their limbs like they announced their being in the humble home. 

The tiny gasp that emitted through the air caught the gangly man's attention, slowly he tipped his head to the side to look at the woman. 

His darling wife. 

“Messmer,” shaky steps bounded towards the red-headed knight, to which he smiled at. Turning to meet her grasp he wrapped the length of his arms around her body and with ease lifted her so their gazes could meet, noses merely inches from one another. 

She laughed sweetly, touching the tip of her nose to his before descending down to place her plush lips onto his cracked and weathered ones. 

He was so tired, exhaustion seeped through his bones like a newfound plague and if he concentrated enough, little black dots would enter the spaces between his vision, signaling for the man to rest.

He ignored the blackened shapes, blinked them away as his little wife littered his battered face with small, sickly sweet kisses. 

“My Lady,” Oh, by the gods she missed the deep timber of his voice, how it resonated just right with her ears, nestled safely between her heart and mind, and echoed between the cavities of her chest. 

“I've missed you, Darling!” Tears sprung from the woman's face and he could do nothing but coax them away. His hands were massive, engulfing the whole side of her face before swooping under her eyes, dismissing the flowing liquid entirely. 

“And I, you. I apologize for the delay, my sweet, there were more filthy curses laying about than usual.” 

Ah, curses. It was his job to protect the golden order; lay waste to any ill fit redeemers that defied the natural rule. 

With Godwyn holding dominion over the Golden Order, he was soon to be King of Leyndell. Now, his mother stepped in, ordered more protection, and more soldiers to be present in the East and West ends of the capital. 

This meant that everyone had to be present and in support of his newfound excellency. Even Messmer. 

“They don't deserve you,” she mumbled against his neck, tracing her fingertips up and down the column of his throat. 

“Perhaps not, but mother does not seem to understand my devotion just yet.” 

He walked, not bothering to hold onto her as each of the woman's legs was tightly wrapped around his torso, with her arms looping around the muscles of his shoulders. 

Messmer reached out, grabbing the oak railing around the stairs before ascending up, trying but failing to ignore the sloppy kisses below his jaw. 

Noticing the kept bed he softly growled, grabbing the woman's legs with a newfound strength and lightly shoved her on the soft furs. 

“Thou hasn’t been sleeping?” 

It was then he took in her state; the darkened bags, messy hair and wrinkled clothing. 

Smiling sheepishly up at the man no words needed to be said, the answer was clear.

Blowing air from her mouth she moved the strands of hair that littered her face, they blew with the pressure, lightly tickling the man that stared down at the woman. 

Too tired to argue he sighed instead, shrugging off his armor and worn down boots.  

Not bothering to fall as gracefully as his wife he allowed his legs to give out, toppling onto the woman even as she let out a desperate squeak. 

Before entirely crushing her with his weight, he places his elbows on either side, digging his nose into the side of her face. 

He dreamed of this moment for weeks. 

The rain slammed against the wood of their home and usually, he would be worried of its pressure. 

But today, he would clear his mind. 

He would simply cease to be, with his darling little wife sleeping soundly under him. 

Yes, the order could wait. 

For how could he spread such a message of hope when his wife missed him so? 

[harmonysanreads]

HARMONYYY i just finished the penacony quest and OH MY GOD. the emotional damage wtf... and the murderer 😕 i honestly don’t think anyone could’ve foreseen that

on another note, sunday really does have huge yandere potential !!! (i was swooning the entire time he was on screen im sorry.) he literally isn’t beating the allegations at all. even the other characters comment on how weird it is for him to casually keep a model of the golden hour, because what in the control freak 😭

he seems like he’d play dollhouse with darling. after all, in a place like that, every single aspect of it is under his thumb — literally. having that much control over your circumstances is a reassurance. oh, are the placeholder models crashing? don’t worry dear, he can fix the malfunctions. he can even make them speak more realistically for you. he can give anything to you, even change the layout of the place entirely if you’re bored of it. you want to get back to normal size? well, he can’t quite do that just yet, please understand..

or if he pulls that weird interrogation magic thing on them. darling who just lies through the entire thing, and he uses this to scare them about the death countdown while not mentioning the part that he has the power to really just cancel it in the end. though, the same trick won’t work on them twice. at least the process gets darling to become part of the family in the end.

not to mention the spies he has everywhere. stupid birds watching you in every corner…

idk i just want to hold him and shake him aggressively. out of love, of course.

- 🕯️

When I tell you I've lost sleep over the thought of just how much more Sunday is probably capable of doing, nonnie.

If he has access to technology and power like this, which are all unrestricted for his personal use moreover, imagine the things he's hiding. And imagine farther the things he had to do to get to where he is today, another dash of spice to the mix. I went back to his scenes and did some thinking. The me-slandering-Sunday is obviously a joke but I really, really hope people just don't focus on the morally-gray and questionable aspects of him and completely disregard his other characteristics now.

If you think about things from his perspective, he really is just trying his best to keep the image of The Family. But the loss of probably the only person he trusted with his heart and the disregard to bring justice to that case from The Family's side, compelled him to put his agenda first (as he himself mentions that he allowed Aventurine to pull that stunt so that it'd lure Gallagher out). What we get from this is, while Sunday is an extremely dedicated member of their faction, he had to learn to be selfish in certain situations to save his and Robin's backs.

The desire to control usually comes from a feeling of helplessness. We can make some speculations based on the current information of why Sunday has these tendencies, I've also seen some people say he has OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) but, we can't be sure until his full lore drops. Another thing to note about Sunday is how lonely he probably is, especially at present. The Family is in chaos, the situation of Robin, external forces' traps, the Charmony festival's deadline and he doesn't even have one person he can sit down with and not question their motives. He really must want to rest just as much as the characters around him are suggesting.

So basically, Sunday is a multi-layered character, just like Aventurine. He's definitely a politician, is what I'll say. Even though he is a control freak whose motives are hard to guess, he's still that little boy fighting for his and Robin's shared dream inside.

[thenewrises]

aw man another brain ramble (part 3) (18+ MDNI)

14DWY DAY 4 DROPPED!!!! YIPPEEE!!!!

so i spent some time replaying the game to find some info and went through my old posts because some stuff is new! i also have guess ren’s name and idk whether i got it right or not HOWEVER if i do get it right nobody will know… i’ll take it to the grave.

anyways some fun things in day 4, i feel like we’re finally getting into the LORE. which is exciting because one of the reasons i became so invested was the lore we would get on the blog.

ren likes to draw in his free time, that’s a fun tidbit. mysterious ink and mysterious black smoke? interesting… angel having flashbacks about their childhood the more time they spend with ren? LOVE IT.

parts 1 and 2 are here!

anyways with new content i have new observations! i am going down the "let's make him better not worse" route so keep that in mind in this post. i’ve gone through the blog again and hopefully haven’t missed too much, so let’s goooooooo

14 Days With You belongs to @14dayswithyou and @cutiesigh!

1. The Black Smoke

i have to admit i’ve gotten the bad ending without meaning to, because usually aren’t we supposed to want to move in with ren? he wants us to stay right?

not today!

this obviously has something to do with the main factor as the black smoke. what is the black smoke? it’s not a hallucination, and ren seemed EXTREMELY invested in it. and, not only that, he seems perplexed by it. what is the black smoke?

nobody is supposed to live on that floor with him, and even he has no idea about it. he becomes almost extremely fixated on it, and even distracted enough that if you tell them you want to stay at his house he barely pays attention.

it almost seems as if someone is incinerating something in there, but what?

something to point out is a lot of ren's scars are from burns, as fire has something to do with his past. i think i've talked about it before but in case i haven't, i have a belief that ren may have burnt down his childhood home in the past.

could the black smoke be an omen? we can see it as well, so it's not a hallucination of his mind. but this brings me to my next idea of what the black smoke could be.

2. His Computer

if while looking around you decide to peak into his computer, you get a conversation. i think their laptop is connected to their phone, because we can see a one way conversation as if ren had sent something to someone and then answered.

i believe this is river! as there is literally no one else ren would willingly talk to and even that is a rarity. however, confiding in someone with this kind of information seems like something he would say to river.

o - olivia

we know that river knows olivia from this relationship chart, and we've already run into her a few times. however, if she is involved in their past one way or another, she may have some of her own secrets. for one, she refers to ren in quotations, as if not believing their name, and river has been having issues of her following him around. could olivia be the killer? could olivia have something to do with their line of business?

"didn't we... u know?"

olivia isn't dead, so did they threaten her? blackmail her? hurt her?

it seems from my perspective that olivia may have rented out that apartment space and that smoke could be her doing.

we don't get a whole lot of information after that, since river or ren accessed and shut off the messaging app. but it seems olivia plays a bigger part than we thought.

3. What Is "It"?

this is the one that gets me thinking, because in the chat messages we hear about something river refers to as "that thing" and "it".

my first thought was olivia, but that made no sense because they had been properly referring to her and ren probably has no need to stay connected with her.

would this maybe be what's connected to the black smoke?

i haven't seen anything supernatural or non-human in this game, but the first thought i had was that it's some kind of entity. but, if there is nothing non-human in this game then what is ren in contact with? who? what happens when ren makes the thing mad?

it could be connected to his job, or something from his past entirely. one thought was maybe taylor, but why would he be in contact with his father? last time we heard, he has little to nothing to do with his family anymore.

What Is It?

4. The Drawings

something i learned is ren can draw! seems he likes to in his spare time. although angel seemed a bit concerned, as his drawings are not as light and romantic like the web comics they read, but... darker.

ren obviously connects with this gloomy character, who seems to be the main love interest in "always with you". my guess is he depicts gloomy and the MC as those characters, but gloomy specifically connected with them.

ren's inner turmoil is much more extreme then i considered, it feels as if he thinks he is always being watched. he purposefully isolates himself, but we know from childhood they were severely neglected by his father. maybe his father is those eyes, continuously tormenting them due to him not wanting to turn out like taylor.

some final thoughts

i may do another post when i get the time to look through more stuff and try connecting the dots, but this is what i have for now! i hope these coming days are more lore involved because it's been so fun to try and decode stuff.

another thing i didn't mention was the locked box, but there wasn't anything significant there. a ring is the key, so maybe we can get our ring from childhood back soon.

this may have been my favorite day thus far, and i'm excited for more in the future! i think i've been with this game fore around two years now, so i probably will stick around til the end.

[separatist-apologist]

Separatist-apologist lore beneath the cut

I dropped out of college when I was 19 and when I decided to go back, I had two kids. I was undeclared and I felt old despite still being in my 20s. I had a scholarship which required me to do daytime classes with all of the brand new 18 year olds and I felt wildly out of place. Before that, I'd been staying at home raising my kids while their dad worked and a lot of people thought wanting to return to the workforce was a mistake, so there was this immense pressure to succeed where I'd once failed.

The problem was not knowing what I wanted to do. All I really cared about was history and domestic violence and as far as I knew, there was no good career path that combined those things, and so I signed up for four random classes that had nothing to do with each other. One of them was called Serial Killers in America which was taught by a former police officer. Another was introduction to psychology, taught by a social worker.

I was sitting in the Serial Killer class one morning, way in the back where no one paid me any attention, when the professor (former cop, remember) began telling a story about being called to a house for domestic violence and I remember looking up at her as she said that too often, these things are a "he said, she said," and they're usually both lying.

And it just ignited something angry in my stomach. I was looking for an advisor since I'd been undeclared and I turned that day to the psych professor and asked if she'd fill out my form to be my advisor. As she was, I told her what the other professor said and how much it bothered me and she asked me what I wanted to do. So I told her, and she asked if I'd ever considered social work.

So began six years of perfectionism and the single-minded goal of getting my masters degree and working in the field as a licensed social worker. I remember my first day in orientation at grad school, someone asked if anyone knew where they wanted to be in 5 years. I was the only person who raised their hand. I knew where I wanted to be.

And for the last three years, I got to live that dream. The good, the bad, the horrible- all of it was mine. And today I pack up this office I've worked in for the last three years because its all over. The work was always good and I'm proud of what I've done. I've published papers, I've sat in state-wide commissions, I've talked to legislators, I've presented at conferences and I've trained a new generation of advocates who feel the same passion I do.

It's no secret that people who work in this field are typically survivors themselves. Something about surviving it turns people into advocates, whether they meant to be or not. And often they manage to make it out of the metaphorical burning building, turn around, and decide they need to go back inside to try and get others. The amount of people I've talked to who say, "I want other people to know they're not alone and they can get through this," is numerous. It makes you optimistic, it makes it impossible to ignore the good in humanity even when you're faced with some of the worst people/circumstances you'll ever encounter.

And despite all the petty office politics, a system designed (sometimes purposefully) to make leaving difficult, and state legislators who push back every inch of progress we ever made, I will miss it. The work was always good. I'm proud of the things I did individually for folks, of the amount of times I got to tell someone they did nothing wrong, that they deserved safety and respect.

These three years have been the best and worst of my life, but the work was always good. I will always be in it, will always be standing beside the ghost of my childhood self, offering her a hand and a voice and I think if I accomplished nothing else, at least I did that.

[brisquad-unit-4402]

things zali would say while you’re asleep

ah yes the classic confession while someone’s asleep. i need to abuse zali’s lore as a medic more

tags: gender neutral reader, fluff, pre-relationship, pining zali, reader is a krisis hero, sickfic, confession-but-not-quite, i had fun with a translator, rare flustered zali

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Unfortunately Zali is an early riser by occupation, not nature, and clocks into the A.S.H. infirmary at 5:00 AM sharp. The beds are usually unoccupied, leaving the medic to his own research, but today he stops walking by one.

The other day, you and the rest of Krisis did the whole crime-fighting planet-defending thing, as expected. Also as expected, you took care of the threat without a hitch as a 4-person unit.

It was the day after that posed a problem. Namely, a 100-degree-Fahrenheit problem. Somehow you didn’t even get a scratch while beating the villain of the week, but you woke up to a sore throat, a stuffy nose, and a fever. As your medic, Zali was the first person you contacted.

You asked for any easy home remedies, expecting some French chicken noodle recipe or a home remedy.

He insisted on bedrest in the infirmary instead.

Damn medical professionals and their overreactions.

Despite your protests, Zali has a hard time thinking it was the wrong choice. He stands beside your medical bed with a clipboard in hand.

Sleep treated you well. Your pale cheeks and reddened nose were less noticeable now that you had time to rest (and a cool towel along your forehead), but your arms were cast off to the side as if you were reaching for something while you slept.

Zali watched your chest rise and fall. Rise and fall. Good. Regular breathing patterns are always a good sign with respiratory infections. A quick check with the stethoscope confirmed that it wasn’t interfering with your heart, too. Definite improvement all around.

He still held two fingers to your throat to check your pulse, though. Heartbeats thump, thump, thumped underneath his gloved fingers. He didn’t bother to log that test outcome on his clipboard; he has the results logged up there in his head.

“You’re doing better,” he says. His instinct is to explain his logic to the patient, but then he looks at your sleeping face, and now he feels awfully silly for it. He usually doesn’t talk out loud when his patients are asleep, but he’s inclined to keep you informed. “You can tell, I think. You’re not waking up in the middle of the night because of your stuffy nose.”

He giggles at that. He lost count of how many times you snorted awake (quite literally) before he retired for the night. As he shakes his head with amusement, he notices a bundle of fluff at the base of your bed.

Zali reaches down to pick it up, and stares back at a small Vezkit plush. The Vezkit was one of his many tools to subdue problem patients, such as children on the rare occasion that he had to heal them. If he noticed his patient was getting antsy, he’d offer the Vezkit as comfort. And, yes, when you were so stuffed-up he could barely understand your voice last night, he figured you could’ve used the comfort.

He glances at you, and how your arms are splayed out on the side of the bed where the Vezkit sat. No wonder the poor guy was misplaced—you accidentally dropped it in your sleep while you were cuddling it.

The thought makes Zali giggle again. “Be careful not to harm the citizens in your care, Reader,” he teases. “What would we do if you dropped a real Vezkit in action?”

Rise and fall, regular breathing. Zali doesn’t need to wait for you to respond, but he watches your face anyways. Even in sickness, you look peaceful.

“I should get you a new towel,” he says aloud.

He returns a second later, and when he removes the old towel, the thermometer confirms you're at 100.6F. With a sigh, Zali places a hand on your forehead. Just as hot as he expected. “You still need to rest,” he instructs to no one. “I don’t want my Reader to feel under the weather.” He rethinks. “Our Reader. You’re one of us.”

The hand rolls down to your cheek next. Fingers end under your jaw at the pulse point he checked earlier, and rubs along your cheek.

In a quiet breath, Zali mutters to himself. “Stop that.” He can’t find it in himself to quit, though. To a bystander it would be clear he isn’t just checking your temperature anymore, but your cheek fits perfectly into his palm. “Reader, you’re irresistible.”

Earlier he managed to excuse himself, but now Zali awkwardly chuckles. “My goodness, I’m really doing this now.” He finds it easy to tell your resting face things he’d never dream of saying out loud when you’re awake.

Silence fills the space when he doesn’t admit anything. Why is this so hard? It must be easier than a proper confession, but Zali is thankful for the bandages he wraps around his face like a medical mask. At least he can pretend he can keep his blush to himself, even if there’s no one to see it.

“You brighten up our days,” he continues, grabbing a fresh towel and letting water soak through it until it’s cooling to the touch. “But you have no idea how much you affect people.” He wrings the towel so tight that his rubber gloves stretch with the force. “Least of all how you affect me.”

He folds the towel neatly and returns to your bedside. Your lips are parted slightly as you sleep, a soft color, and one that he wished he could dwell on. Since your head was slightly tilted, he could admire the contours of your face, from the tip of your nose to the curve of your cheeks, all the way up to your forehead which so dearly needed something to cool it down.

That reminds him of his task, but his heart keeps skipping beats as he looks at you. Hair rested over your face and along your forehead as you slept, and as he watched you, a strand fell a little lower. You look angelic.

Zali unravels the bandages along his face, then quickly kisses the towel.

The desire to kiss you has been one Zali has resisted for a long time, but he’s starting to lose the fight. He flips the towel over, intending to place the side he kissed onto your forehead. Indirect and secondhand.

He tries not to think about how soft your hair is as he brushes it out of the way. Tries not to admire your eyelashes and the bridge of your nose, or the way your lips must be as soft as they look.

But that leaves the forehead, and before he can think any better of it, Zali lays his lips there.

The medic regains his sense a second after and practically lurches back. He slaps a hand over his greedy mouth as he turns away, brain going into overdrive as the blood rushes to his head. How unprofessional! How improper! Is he really this weak for you when you’re in his care? He buries himself further into his hands, letting out a groan as he does, begging these thoughts to abandon him at least until he’s done caring for your illness.

But he does glance at you through his fingers, and maybe it’s because he’s swooning, but he swears you look a little sweeter after being on the receiving end of his kiss.

Zali sighs, hoping that’ll clear his head even though he knows the outcome, and places the towel down as intended. “Cute.”

Saying that was a mistake. Now he’s even more flustered, but ‘cute’ doesn’t even begin to describe you. “Tu es éblouissante,” Zali tries. “J’espère pouvoir admettre cela un jour.”

That’s not enough either, but his native French confessions come easier to him, and the rest he can keep locked up in a small dark place no one else can see, least of all you.

He adjusts the towel into place, then pats your head as a final affection. Meanwhile, the Vezkit plush watched him work on the bedside table, and you could use the comfort.

The fabric is fuzzy in his hands, and the perfect size to hold. Your arms haven’t moved at all since you let go of the Vezkit in your sleep, which serves as the perfect place to return the plush.

Zali sets the Vezkit down, and in your deep sleep, you immediately react to its fluffiness. Your hands twitch first, then your arms rise to keep it close.

However, sleeping heroes can’t see their surroundings, and Zali’s eyes widen as you hold his hand down. You managed to grab both the plush and his arm in one fell swoop.

If his face wasn’t red enough before, it certainly is now. Take his heart too while you’re at it. Not like he needs it anymore. It’s going way too fast to be functioning properly.

“Oh. Oh, gosh.” His breath catches as he nervously laughs with a hand over his mouth, hoping it’ll make him sound less lovesick. “Don’t give me hope.”

He can already imagine Wilson teasing him, or Vanta calling him whipped. They wouldn’t be wrong, though. Zali is supposed to be the composed one. He can smooth-talk his way out of a situation, or go unaffected by femme fatales and playboys, but he’d do just about anything if you were the one asking him for a favor.

And in this case, he’s got a million things to work on, but he can’t think of a single one. They’re all flimsy excuses to break out of your warm grasp. None of them sound appetizing compared to this, even if you held him unknowingly.

“Oh, forget it.” With a huff, Zali bites on the edge of his glove and pulls it off. It’s rare for him to work without one, whether it be medical-grade or the black pair he dons religiously, but he hungers for contact.

Fingertips hardened by battle medicine caress your face as gentle as can be. He doesn’t want to go further—not while you’re unaware—but he really can’t get over how easy it is to set his hand along your cheek and jaw, soaking up the soft skin like sun to a plant.

You really must be in deep sleep if you haven’t noticed yet. This is fine, Zali muses. The less you see of the longing look in his golden eyes, the better. Usually he would muster up his courage and just go for it, but not with you. Not when he’s never felt anything like you before, especially considering how close-knit Krisis is. Disrupting the balance is out of the question. He has to be fine with what he has instead of striving for something else, no matter how he yearns for the satisfaction, the possibility of what could be, even if he knows you don’t see him as anything other than a friend. It’s for the sake of the team.

But Zali wakes up at the crack of dawn, and you certainly aren’t, not while you’re still sick.

He can indulge himself for a little longer.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Never have I Ever: Vampire AU?

I actually have never written vampires. Welp. Here goes a first try??? Am I crossing my vampire lore with zombies and werewolves??? It’s not usually my flavor and Idk what I’m doing, but here you go, Anon!

❤️ kdnfb

Never Have I Ever

RATED E: vampires and biting (duh), questionable medical stuff, sexual content, dark themes.

She should be relieved. Peeta is back. He’s been missing for nearly six months, vanished the night his brothers took him out for a surprise bachelor party. He’d last been seen on the bar’s security footage, stumbling, apparently drunk, in the arms of a woman Katniss hadn’t recognized. At first, the police suggested she was a prostitute who had taken Peeta out back of the bar to conduct her services.

Katniss refused to believe that. Not her Peeta.

Further examination made them postulate that she had somehow drugged Peeta and taken him against his will.

While that thought made Katniss violently ill, she was more willing to believe it than the prostitute theory. But why would someone want to abduct Peeta?

And as she stares through the widow of a surgery room at the hospital, Katniss doesn’t even try to hide her tears. Emaciated and pale, sweating with a dangerously high fever, the man they’ve identified as Peeta Mellark thrashes and fights the doctors, until they sedate him and strap him to the gurney.

In a daze, Katniss listens to the litany of his symptoms. He seems to be fighting some kind of blood borne disease. His heart rate is so low that the monitors keep declaring him flatlined. He’s not responding to normal fever reducers and antibiotics seem to have no effect. The only thing that seems to help are blood transfusions. They’re not certain yet if it’s contagious. Measures have been taken to isolate him.

His body shows signs of malnutrition, dehydration, and abuse. They haven’t ruled out the possibility of rape but won’t know for sure until he regains consciousness.

Her mother brings her coffee she barely drinks and food she barely touches.

“You need to eat,” her sister urges when she stops by during one of her breaks.

“Today should’ve been our six month anniversary,” she murmurs and pushes the flaky croissant away from her.

Eventually, he wakes. And Katniss is allowed to see him and speak to him through the glass.

He remembers her and presses his palm to the window, as though desperate to reach her. She places her hand so they’d be palm to palm if the glass weren’t between them.

“I love you. You have to let me go,” he says in a throaty voice and Katniss shakes her head.

“I can’t.”

Several days later, the fever finally stabilizes and now the doctors worry that his body temperature occasionally dips dangerously low. But he’s started eating, mostly meat that’s nearly raw, and his need for the blood transfusions has dropped to once every couple of days.

He still doesn’t remember what happened to him. That or he refuses to say.

On the day Katniss brings him home, Peeta stares around their apartment as though he doesn’t recognize the place at all. He can’t remember simple things like where he stores his favorite whisk or how the living room window often sticks and has to be juggled a certain way before you can open it.

At night, he refuses to touch Katniss.

She tries not to take it personally. The police now firmly believe he was taken by and escaped from some kind of human trafficking group.

She tries to tell herself that he’s just traumatized and will come back to her eventually. If she’s patient and loving enough.

His appetite has changed drastically, and Katniss rarely, if ever, sees him eating. He never baked or cooks for her anymore. He refuses to leave the house. He seems almost scared to do so. He can’t sleep at night. He does paint again, though. Sometimes he’ll lay in bed with her until she falls asleep, but when she wakes up, he’s locked himself in his studio. When he emerges, his skin will be pale and flecked or smeared with paint. Dark circles will ring his eyes. At least he’s painting, but he seems to take no joy in it and he refuses to let Katniss see any of his work.

When she suggests maybe he should seek out a therapist, someone he can talk to about what happened, he loses his temper.

They fight. They fight like they’ve never fought before. Katniss can only describe the expression glittering in Peeta’s eyes as malice as he yells at her that she’s asking too much of him.

“What the fuck do you want from me?”

“I just want the man I was going to marry back! Just for one night, I need you to be my Peeta!”

“And what if I can’t? What if the cost of me being like that again is impossible to pay?”

“That doesn’t make any sense!”

She breaks down in tears after he storms from the apartment. Hours later, when he still hasn’t returned, Katniss drags herself to bed and stares at the empty pillow where Peeta’s head should be.

She sleeps. Fitful and marred with terrible, blood soaked dreams. She must sleep because she wakes to Peeta nuzzling her and whispering her name, inhaling at her throat and moaning.

She’s missed that sound. So desperately that she doesn’t question the sudden change or demand an apology. He licks something dark from the corner of his mouth and she shivers at the heat glittering in his cool blue eyes.

“I want to taste you. Katniss, I need to taste you now,” he practically growls. They push her shorts down just enough for him to slide between her legs. She sighs and then moans, her fingers clinging to the silken strands of his hair as his tongue relearns her taste.

He hasn’t forgotten much, she barely has time to think as he drives her so quickly towards orgasm that she doesn’t bother to quiet her moans. Damn the neighbors and courtesy.

She’s still dazed with an earth shattering release as Peeta settles between her spread thighs, licking her from his lips and grinning down at her as he teases her entrance with his tip.

“I miss this so much more than real food,” he whispers, his teeth gleaming white in the moonlight. Before Katniss can process his strange words, Peeta thrusts his cock inside her. He feels different, somehow, but he moves too deep and too quickly for her to name the difference.

And it feels good. So impossibly good, especially when Peeta kisses and nips at her neck. When she comes again, his moans and frantic thrusts tell her he’s right there with her. His teeth sink into her neck and his entire body shudders, and his euphoric moans border on obscene. Dazed and drugged on pleasure, Katniss sinks into a deep, dreamless sleep before he even pulls out of her.

He’s different after that. More like himself. He still refuses to go out much at all, and never alone or during the day. He still won’t talk about what happened during the six months he was gone. He still doesn’t cook and barely eats. He still won’t let Katniss see his paintings.

But he holds her at night and once a week, he’ll wake her and ravenously make love to her.

He’s been home almost a year when Katniss turns on the news one morning, singing to herself and scratching at the spot where Peeta bit her last night when he came.

“And it seems this couple suffered the same ritualistic style killing as the last three pairs. Their bodies were entirely drained of blood—“ Katniss pauses with the bread hovering over the toaster, honing in on the words. “—and left in a dumpster behind a bar. The killings seem to be happening at regular intervals, about once a week.”

“Hey,” Peeta says as he wraps his arms around her from behind and nuzzles her neck. “Anything interesting happening in the world?”

She drops the bread into the toaster and flicks off the tv. Turning in his arms, she smiles and kisses his lips.

“No. Nothing is wrong. Life is wonderful.”

[rockonfishboy]

All my rambling thoughts while watching TADC episode 3

Watched this episode with a friend when it came out and I have! Feelings!! So here’s my rough approximation of some of my thoughts on it while watching!

Spoilers ahead!

——— • Love the gang hanging out together

• “And Zooble turns straight!” JAX NO

• “What do YOU, the VIEWERS, think it is?” Mm. Don’t like that. • Every time “Today’s Adventure” plays I just grin like an idiot, I’m SO happy it’s in every episode

• Caine being desperate to create an adventure that Zooble will go on is a really interesting concept

• I miss Gummigoo ;^;

• OHH THE LIGHTING IN THIS EPISODE. THE VIBES!! THE HAUNTED MANSION!!! IMMACULATE. I cannot possibly gush about it enough.

• “I’m not really a fan of horror, and I don’t really handle jumpscares that well.” She’s just like me

• Ohhh the ghost is so cute 🥺 what a little guy-oh, whelp, goodbye

• RAGATHA’S HORRIFIED FACE IS SENDING ME

• Oh that’s nightmare fuel :D

• “You know, I’m starting to think…” oh. oh that’s-that’s the end of the sentence.

• “Well, this is some rather inconvenient lore placement” I love Kinger

• THE 2D EYES

• Them being fixated on the fly is so funny to me for no reason

• NEW SLEEP PARALYSIS DEMON JUST DROPPED

• “You look beautiful, honey”

• “UUUUUP!!” AHDAJGDA

• Zooble therapy time!

• Oh no,, sad therapy time

• Aw Zooble :( dang

• Caine is 100% listening to Zooble when they tell him to ‘just forget it�� and I don’t think they realize that. Poor Zooble

• OH GOD OH NO CAINE. He’s just as trapped as the rest of them

• “I ended up shooting the love of my life” Kinger’s face here worries me

• “Okay I won’t” the humour in this show is so good man

• HE DID NOT MISS

• Kinger protecting Pomni, I love them actually

• “w h a t” *WHEEEEEZE*

• THE GIRLS HAVING A TEA PARTY IS SO GOOD. I love Martha, she seems so chill

• Jax being tied up made me laugh really hard. Yes, good, keep it that way. He deserves it.

• Tbh Caine putting in a pacifist route is more than I expected him to do

• “How’s your wife, Kinger?” THE AGONIZED SCREECH I LET OUT, OUUUGHHH MY HEART-RUDE AND UNCALLED FOR, ACTUALLY

• “Seven years of computer science for this, huh?” OH????

• “He just wants me to suffer.” Hm,, I don’t think she’s talking about Caine there

• “How about we just relax for a bit while nothing’s chasing us?” Awww

• Pomni crying,, ouch :(

• OH BACKSTORY?? NO TEASE?? JUST RIGHT INTO THE PAIN????

• “She was funny, creative, really into entomology. I used to hate bugs, but she somehow got me to like them.” Cute established/married couples where one just gushes about the other usually makes me weak but this time it HURTS

• Oh god I love them so much and she’s not even HERE

• Their whole talk is sooooo good and heartbreaking. I love their father-daughter / grandfather-grandchild dynamic, it’s so well done.

• “I’m glad you’re here with me.” SOB

• “As long as you remember it, things will be okay.” PLEASE I CAN’T DO THIS

• Glowstick

• Pomni thanking Ragatha for always looking out for her and Ragatha looking so taken aback and grateful AUGGGHHH. YES. Ragatha deserves SO much love.

• “Did you remember to get my comedy mask?” “…F*$&!” AHDJAHDA

• “It wasn't that bad, actually.” AWWWW

My expectations for this episode were high but DANG. The team absolutely knocked this one out of the park. Definitely my favourite episode so far.

Kinger’s one of if not my favourite character and I’m SO happy he got so much focus. His and Pomni’s relationship and him comforting her is devastating and beautiful and I can’t even say anything about it without just devolving into

Anyways, I can’t wait to fanart about this episode like a normal, functioning person!

[this-lovely-universe]

Lore drop

part 1

"I always knew there was something different with Anastasia. We all did."

Anastasia rolled her eyes. Her mother always had a flare for dramatics, and it never was in Anastasia's favour.

"She was always a bright girl."

and there's the priest

Ah, Father Matthew, or the bane of Anastasia’s existence. The very man who, Anastasia now knows, was trying to subtlety put her through some sort of very shitty therapy.

“Father Matthew.” Anastasia said through the fakest smile imaginable. “How nice of you to stop by…”

"Anastasia." He greeted, with his normally overly to big smile. "I've heard quite a lot about you since you left."

"College is a big thing."

"I wasn't talking about college."

Then what were you talking about? The past 10 minutes?

"Right, obviously..." Anastasia said quietly.

"Your mother tells me you've been experiencing some... differences recently."

Anastasia stayed silent for a moment. Part of her wanted to lie, tell him that she was fine and her mother was blowing everything out proportion, but this was her childhood priest and she didn't want that on her consciousness forever.

"You could say that." She said dryly.

"She mentioned gold blood. What happened there?"

"Tripped down the stairs and suddenly I was gashing red and gold."

"Gold blood?" His eyebrows furrowed. "May I?" He nodded to her hand.

"Wha-" Before she could finish, Father Matthew had already grabbed her hand and pull out his pocket knife, pricking her finger.

Instead of the usual ruby red colour, Anastasia's blood was a murky gold, the red and gold mixing together.

"Oh, you're much further along then we thought..."

"I'm sorry what?" Both her and her mother gasped, although her mother's was a lot more excited.

She could only imagine what was going through her head. My daughter's Jesus Christ himself. She's important!

Anastasia pushed that thought to the bad of my mind. "Further along with...?"

"We always knew you were powerful... Maybe Zeus or Poseidon, but this is something else...."

"Zeus and Poseidon- like the Greek gods?"

"I don't know how you managed to go so look without being attacked..." He pulled out a gold cold, a flashlight and a crystal. He positioned it to create a rainbow. "Oh Iris, goddess of the Rainbow, please accept my offering."

The coin disappeared into thin air. "Chiron. Half blood hill."

What on earth is going on?

A little square of rainbow appeared, and Anastasia could see a half man half horse in it.

Anastasia jaw dropped. She generally couldn't believe what was happening right now.

She looked over to her mother, who seemed to have barely any reaction.

Okay. Something is wrong with the world today

@that-asian-child-of-aphrodite @arisdaughter @childofthewargod @damiedantediane @glee-of-ares-wrath-of-aphrodite

@apollos-weirdest-child @delilah-isnt-dead-yett @athenas-weirdo-daughter @daonedaonlyskh @lovely-liilies-and-lillacs

@aria-pane @poseidons-hyperactive-kid @wine-cooper @i-am-persephones-daughter @unhinged-as-hell

ooc: If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, or if I've forgotten to tag you, let me know :)

[beesmygod]

I saw your answer about art experiences. How do you feel things from literature? I am consistently disconnected from things I try to feel from, like I read The Glass Menagerie and it was good, even, but nothing came of it, and usually it is so much less than that.

I thought it might be something like Having A Coke With You, where the art is superceded by real human relationships — and I actually did understand Having A Coke With You for a while, and it was kind of incredible, but now I look at descriptions that resonated me not two months ago and they're just empty. I don't think having friends did that.

I just want this to be me, I want to feel things so much, especially without looking on it from a consumer's perspective (cf. rayne fisher-quam's standing on the shoulders of complex female characters), which I feel is hindering all of this. I feel like I'm missing out on one of the great experiences of life, the connection and meaning that comes from art.

I watched Greg Guevara's video on art experiences, where he said that everyone is overstimulated and spreading out their art experiences into meaningless social media bits, and I don't know how to change that. I saw a play today and I didn't understand it and I was bored, even, and it didn't change me. I needed it to change me into someone who loved it.

I read Anna Karenina in eighth grade and pushed through it and it was a comfort book and I related to Levin but I don't think I understood it, even (I don't have the book anymore). My friend – I have a bad habit of comparing myself to others, I know, but it's relevant – reads Crime and Punishment and feels things. I couldn't even get through the first part of War and Peace.

I'm sorry for the scatteredness, I write on my phone and I find it difficult to organize my thoughts here. I'm sorry for sending this to you, and I hope you feel free to delete it. Lastly, I'm sorry if you cannot answer this, if this is outside your experience.

i have a weird framing and personal philosophy about this subject that i hope does not come off as unsatisfactory to you but bear with me. i'm pretty sure i know this feeling; this is the feeling i get when i'm exposed to the wondrous, marvelous beauty of unspoiled nature. i could not give two shits about the glorious national parks of this genuinely gorgeous country despite my family dragging me all over the continental US for summer break as far as the family van would take us. i have seen some of the most spectacular sights this country can offer, from the grand canyon to the redwoods of california to the devils tower to yellowstone and so many more. and i tell you i stare at it dead-eyed like a fish. i know i should be feeling something, everyone else is. but when i see old faithful erupt all i could think about was how i could see water at home. absolutely 0 spiritual or emotional connection. even landscape paintings leave me cold. i can appreciate and understand the aesthetic value in what i'm seeing, but its like it stops at my eyes and never penetrates my brain.

but i have just accepted that there are things i simply will not be able to experience in my lifetime. this has always been the case for me being less than 5 ft tall with most things in life, but dont read that as self-pitying lore dropping. because the secret is that it's not really that big of a deal to not be able to do things. i might have 0 memories of yellowstone that aren't "insane thing that happened to us" but as an adult i can pursue things i actually do like instead of trying to force myself to FEEL something my brain isn't wired for.

maybe your relationship with reading is the same. you understand literature's grand purpose in the wide tapestry of history or whatever and have seen people have rapturous moments of artistic connection with specific books, but that experience is completely foreign to you. you can even read a book and enjoy it, like how i think the prismatic spring IS pretty fucking sick, but whatever ethereal feeling youre supposed to feel never materialize. thankfully, i promise you that its not a big deal. and now i never have to visit a national park again until i force my children to go see them because it's good for them or whatever. i can sit at home and experience art i DO get that feeling from.

anyway, in short: read things with no expectations of how you're "supposed" to feel about them and just enjoy a pretty good story. keep throwing yourself into artistic pursuits you do enjoy and feel connected to. and try new ones! you never know what will activate your brain

[eternal-dragon-of-time]

I got really into the potential of a Drakath Arcadia route. So um. I wrote it lol, here's what I think his dialogue would've looked like if he had beat out Sepulchure in the polls.

Drakath: Chaos Incarnate

Surprised to see me? You shouldn’t be. You’ve had my attention since the beginning, so who else would be worthy to be here? Ha! You don’t have to look too excited about it, knowing I took a spot from someone else you might’ve liked more is just encouraging me. I was hoping to have another battle to decide your favor, but this competition seems easy enough as well. You know how strong I am, and who better to solve your problems than someone who caused them? Don’t expect this from me ever again, but today you’ll have my full power supporting you.

Motivation: 

Initially that invitation was just good for a laugh before being tossed, but then I heard about some of the other people that were entering. Be glad it's me and not one of the nobodies I had to fight off from trying to get your affections. Besides, this is an opportunity to have you all to myself again. What do I mean by that?

Tournament:

Why are you bothering to ask? I won it easily, even the resurrected corpse was barely a work out. The hardest part was the sheer number of opponents, you had a lot of champions for your hand. I’ve never fought someone over love before. I don’t get what the fuss is about when compared to battles over the fate of Lore. I’d rate our own clash far above this.

Competitors:

Gravelyn is staring daggers into me, and Safiria looks like she is weighing the risk of drinking my chaorrupted blood. Neither of them worry me. Gravelyn spends the majority of her time fussing over an Empire I pushed to the brink of collapse, and the Vampire Queen is a bit player in a world that left her behind. More importantly, neither of them know you as well as I do.

Quest Accept: Under Umbra Wings

Finally, I was getting tired watching you waste time with the others. You and I will be taking the rightmost route up. No need to bother with the ladder, unlike the others I have wings strong enough to carry the both of us. Don’t act so shocked, I can play nice if it means winning over the others. You can even go play with the butterflies before we get started, you looked like you enjoyed it.

–

Quest Complete:

You don’t have to squirm so much. It’s not like I’m going to drop you, even with these leeches trying to crash the party. You’d know if I was going to let you fall anyways. Probably. Speaking of the overgrown mosquitos, do they look strange to you? Something is off about the way they fly, and they come apart like dolls if you press them too hard. Don’t look at me like that, try it yourself.

Quest Accept: Battle Muse

More of these fake foes, it’s like cutting through wax. I’m not a stranger to my enemies falling apart before me, but it's usually not so literal. These ones look like that usurper’s knights too. I wonder, is that intended as a taunt or a gift for me? Hm? You want to fight them for yourself? Sure, I don’t mind. It’ll be like old times, I always did like sitting back and watching you fight.

–

Quest Complete:

Sorry to cut this break short but I need to get you out of the water. Stop trying to wriggle free and look down at the pool beneath us, you can see where the pond is dyed purple from where I lingered. Guess that answers my question. I’ll be flying us over this for now. Why are you looking at me like that? As nice as it would be to have you out of my hair, I’m not going to let you go out in such a pathetic way. Besides, I still need to win this.

Quest Accept: Denial in Read

Why would there be reading material during this challenge? There was a book like this on the other climbs as well? …Nothing that has you that excited can be good, you keep your eyes to yourself. Great, more of these things are coming after us. I’ll take care of them this time, it’ll be fun to see how many more of them I can break then you. Feel free to admire my work if you want, or find something else to occupy your time if you don’t want to see me smash your record. Maybe inspect the tree trunk, or the armor pieces. Not the book.

–

Quest Complete:

You read it didn’t you, that smug look on your face is telling. Well? Aren’t you going to tell me what was in it? You’re insufferable. Whatever, I’ve cleared out the room so we can continue upwards. Hm? You pulled these gems off the armor pieces for me while you were waiting? Is this some stupid Hero’s Heart Day thing? No, you can’t take those back, I'm keeping them.

Quest Accept: A Better Toy

Have you noticed the ground get more twisted the higher we go? It almost looks like… No. It doesn’t make any sense. I would know if Chaos magic was at play here, and I don’t feel anything, no connection to it at all. We’ll find the truth of this higher up and- How did we get here!? This can’t be real, it's just some pathetic attempt to get under my skin. Well it won’t work, you’re already here to do that. I’m fine. I don’t need her. Stay behind me, I’ll gladly rend this place apart.

–

Quest Complete:

I gave up everything, my flesh, my self, my strength. All for her to use me up and abandon me. Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone, but sometimes I can’t help but wonder if there was something wrong with me, that if I was just stronger she would’ve let me come with her. Pathetic, isn’t it? You know, I’ve never had to wonder if I’d ever see you again. You just kept coming back again and again.

Pre-Boss Dialogue:

Stop it, I can stand on my own. I don’t need you, or her, or this thing trying to worm its way into my head. I am strong, I am worthy, I am fine alone.

End Questline Dialogue:

The reality that monster invented could never have happened, but that didn’t stop me from dreaming. It’s easier to believe that there was something I could do then face the truth. That I’m not perfect, and I was never going to be enough. Augh. I didn’t expect that to hurt so much to say. You look ridiculous being concerned over someone who’s killed you, but I can’t stop you. That's just the kind of person you are. The person I can trust you to be. I’ll remember this Hero, fondly even.

[glitterandmoondustofficial]

And Onto Further Stillness

Chapter 11

Notes:

Characters: Gale, Yrelia Rating: Mature Warnings: sexual themes, nakedness, past relationship pains, some lightly described injuries Notes: was originally going to rate this as teen because it’s mostly lighthearted but then I remembered that nope that’s not right lol Yrelia lore dropped and Gale loves her to bits

“Oh!” Gale heard Yrelia yelp. “Tara! Um, sorry! Do-Don’t-”

He heard the panic in Yrelia’s voice so he did his best to rush into his bedroom. He opened the door and saw Yrelia covering her naked chest and Tara staring at her with a confused expression. Yrelia looked terribly flustered. She clenched her jaw and ground her teeth together.

She looked at Gale with tears in her eyes and he knew she was begging him to save her.

“Ah, Tara,” Gale called and Tara looked to him. “Do you mind? I was hoping to have a private conversation with Yrelia.”

Tara stared at him and he knew she didn’t believe him, but he also knew that she respected him enough to let it be and leave the room. “Of course, Mister Dekarios,” she turned and flew out of the room. He hoped that she thought that Yrelia was as nervous about being naked around others as he was.

And she was, in a sense.

Gale closed the door and Yrelia wiped her face. “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice strained with embarrassment.

“Don’t apologize,” he said softly. He walked to her and wiped a tear that fell down her cheek. He very gently pulled her arms away from her bare chest. He held her hands firmly in his and kissed her forehead. “I suppose I hadn’t realized that Tara had never seen them.” He sighed. “That was a foolish thought. I should have warned her that you don’t want others around to see you change.”

She swallowed. “I,” she sighed. “I really should be over this by now. It’s been nearly six years.”

Gale released her right hand and brushed his knuckles against her cheekbone. “Some things take a long while to heal. You can take as long as you need. I will stay by your side as you do so.”

“Thank you,” she whispered. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “I know Tara wouldn’t…” she trailed off. “It’s so ridiculous. In this day and age, when there’s so many end of the world events and stories and adventures you would think some scars wouldn’t matter.” She sighed. “But they do to some people.” She released his hand and rubbed between her breasts.

“It is quite unbelievable,” Gale agreed. “What happened to you was terrible,” he said, anger causing his chest to burn. “You were simply trying to protect someone you love, there’s nothing more honorable than that.” He reached for her face and cupped her cheek. “You saved Cyr from certain death,” he said softly. “If that man couldn’t see how wonderful that was then perhaps it was best he moved along.” He paused when her eyebrows twitched. “Not that I believe you should have been hurt so deeply by someone you loved. That is completely unforgivable. I simply meant that-”

She cut him off with a soft kiss. “I know what you meant,” she said and gave him a small smile. “I’m glad I have you now, someone I can trust completely.”

Gale blinked when the closed flap of his tent was brushed open. He turned and saw Yrelia walking into his tent.

“Lia,” he breathed her name. It had only been a day since they had left the shadow cursed lands. Only two days since he had defied Mystra and found himself very alive and with a new enthusiasm for his life.

He quickly looked Yrelia over. Her black hair was in a bun. She wore black cotton pants and a white shirt that was laced up. This was her normal camp attire. Nothing at all out of the ordinary.

And yet he found himself thinking that something wasn’t normal.

“Gale,” she said his name with a quick quirk of her lips. A bit of a teasing smile. Something that said “you usually have far more to say than not even my full name”. Which was true, he usually did have far more to say. Especially to her, the one always so willing to listen.

Except not today.

Today his mind had been incredibly preoccupied with thoughts of her, of their night under the stars together. The way he could remember the inflection in her voice when she said that she loved him. The soft, gentle, but hungry way she had kissed him.

He would very much like to kiss her again. He would like to kiss her a thousand times more.

“What brings you to my tent?” He asked as casually as he could while also being as…quiet as he could. He didn’t want the whole damn camp to know that Yrelia had slipped into his tent and definitely didn’t need anyone to know that he was barely restraining himself from kissing her until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

Yrelia’s brows twitched and her smile turned to amusement. She hummed but didn’t answer him. She reached around to her hair and let it down from the bun, letting the waves fall down her back. It was long. Had it always been that long? He couldn’t remember if she or anyone else had cut it these past months.

He wanted to run his fingers through it.

He wondered what it would look like to see her hair fanned out on one of his many pillows on his bed in his tower, while he hovered over her, their lips centimeters from touching.

“Why indeed,” she spoke, breaking him from his thoughts of her naked body under his. It was all fantasy after all. He hadn’t truly seen her —what he assumed— incredibly attractive naked body. Based on the freckles on her face he was sure her whole body was covered in them. He was very curious to know how many she had. If he could kiss every one of them.

She took off her shoes and that was when Gale realized exactly what she was doing. She was going to sleep with him. She wanted to have sex. Completely normal in a relationship. Which is what they were in. A relationship. A loving, hopeful relationship.

He wasn’t nervous. He didn’t get nervous. Certainly not anxious or timid. And definitely not shy.

He nearly groaned at himself.

None of that mattered. What mattered was the woman in his tent who looked so pretty with her hair down and her shoes off.

He should kiss her. He was the one who said that he needed practice and now they had some time to do exactly that. To press his lips against hers and pray that she didn’t find his very pathetic attempts to please her laughable.

He grabbed her callused but delicate hand and brought it to his lips. Her amused gaze softened and she stepped close to him. So close that she leaned against his chest and he had to wrap his arms around her. His heart thumped his chest and he brushed his lips against hers softly. She responded with a smile and a gentle press into his lips.

He had almost pulled away when she immediately pulled him back in. She took his bottom lip in her teeth and pulled with a chuckle.

“Come now, my love, I know you can do better than that.”

He was out of practice but she didn’t seem to mind. Not when she responded so enthusiastically; her fingers in his hair, her body pressed against his, her tongue meeting his in a way he hadn’t realized he had missed. A breathless declaration of love to his lips had him weak in his already questionable knees.

It felt like it didn’t take long for them to be on the ground and with her in his lap. His hands found her hips, his thumbs slipping under the hem of her shirt. Touching her skin brought that emotion back. The not nervous, anxious, timid, or shy emotion.

He wasn’t sure if he would be…sufficient. Surely what he had to offer would disappoint her. He was dreadfully out of practice. He had already given her what he was good at, how could he possibly think she would be satisfied with him as he was now?

But he didn’t dare stop kissing her. He didn’t want to be without her weight in his lap. She whispered that she loved him again and he very eagerly repeated the words back to her. What he would give to live in a world where he could tell her that he loved her all day, press kisses onto every freckle on her body, make love to her until their bodies were completely spent.

His hands slid under her shirt, needing to feel more of her skin. Of course, that wasn’t nearly enough. He needed to see what he felt, he needed to taste what he felt. A longing need to kiss her bare skin nearly overcame him.

He kissed her with a blinding passion, so intensely aroused by the feel of her skin under his fingertips. He had been so confident when he was with her before, but this was different, this was physical, this was seeing the woman he was wholly in love with completely naked. He would see every freckle. He would press his lips to her skin and leave marks in a way he hadn’t done in years.

He knew she would be stunning and that no one could compare to her. His hands moved to lift her shirt off of her but the way she hesitated had him more than mildly concerned. He pulled his lips away from hers and breathed.

“My love,” he called her. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she said. “Just, um, sorry,” she apologized. “It’s just…that’s not…necessary…right?”

That gave him pause. “No. No, of course not. We will do whatever you’re comfortable with,” he said before kissing her softly. She immediately relaxed, her fingers softly pressing into his shirt. “However, if I’m being honest I would like to see you bare for me.”

She let out a breath. She gave him a nervous smile. “I’m just a bit nervous,” she tried. “It’s been…five years since anyone has seen me naked.” She swallowed.

“I assure you that I will be nothing but grateful to see you as such.”

Her smile relaxed. She leaned in and kissed him chastely. “Just…tell me right away if you’re disappointed.”

His brows furrowed. “Lia, why would I ever be disappointed? It’s you.”

She clenched her jaw. “It’s better if you see for yourself.”

He saw the anxiety shining in her eyes. He saw her begging him not to leave her. This was beyond just being insecure about being naked. He let out a breath and slowly lifted up her shirt off of her. He blinked at the gnarled scars across her torso, skinned ripped by some manner of beast, tearing into her skin and breasts without discrimination. She had been mauled and mutilated. He could see where the clerics had to heal where the sutures could not.

He reached out and brushed his fingers across one of the scars, feeling her formerly torn skin under his fingertips. He whispered her name and she frowned.

“I-I understand if you’re no longer interested,” she said softly. She covered her chest with her arms and had a worried look in her eyes.

He looked up at her face. He took in a deep breath and let it out. He reached out and cupped her cheek, turning her gaze to him. “I love you,” he said. “And you’re absolutely stunning.” Her eyes widened. He kissed her. “I love you,” he said to her lips before kissing her again. “I love you.” He laid her down, her hair spreading across his mat. “I love you.” He kissed her deeply and she responded in kind.

“I love you, too.”

Gale blinked out of his memory. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Why don’t you finish getting dressed?” He suggested. “We have a busy day ahead of us, my love.”

She let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Yeah. Yes. I will,” she sniffed and wiped her face. Before she pulled away from him he kissed her knuckles. She relaxed with a small smile. “Thank you.”

Gale watched Yrelia slip on a lavender colored dress. A wonderful thing that came to her knees and had the dainty puffed sleeves she loved so much. She adjusted the top so it covered most of her chest and let out a sigh. Gale smiled at her.

“You look stunning,” he said.

She looked over to him with a soft smile. “You’re the one who bought me the dress,” she said with a chuckle.

“Yes. I am intelligent enough to know what would look stunning on you,” he said with a grin. He walked up to her and picked up her hand. He kissed her knuckles and she smiled.

“What were you thinking so hard about earlier?” She asked as she reached for his collar and adjusted it.

“Ah, I was thinking about the first time I had seen you naked.” An amused grin spread across her face but she didn’t say anything. “It took every ounce of the gentleman in me to not completely ravish you.”

She laughed. “Darling, you nearly did.”

He hummed. “Can you blame me?” He lifted her hand up and twirled her. She giggled. “I was alive when I didn’t imagine I would be, you were absolutely beautiful, and,” he kissed her brow, “and I was deeply in love with you. I still am, of course. Moreso, actually.”

She laughed again. She leaned in and kissed him. “I was happy that you didn’t reject me,” she said softly. “I knew that you loved me.” Her brows knit together for a brief moment. “But supposedly so did he.”

Gale sighed and then kissed her gently. “He was unworthy of you,” he murmured to her lips. “Anyone who would be so callous to reject you for something like your scars will never be deserving of your affection.” He pressed his lips to hers again.

“I know,” she sighed with a smile. “As much as it had hurt, and even though I still don’t show my scars to anyone…” she rested her forehead against his. “I have you now and I’ve never been happier.”

Gale smiled and kissed her again. He placed his hands on her hips and squeezed gently.

Gale watched as Yrelia unlaced her shirt in his tent. It was after she had decided she didn’t want to sleep without him, which he had heartily agreed to. The idea of sleeping next to her every night felt like an impossible fantasy that he was lucky enough to indulge in.

She lifted her shirt above her head and he stared at her bare chest. He let out a breath, thinking of the previous nights. Her nervousness, the way she automatically accepted that he didn’t want her after seeing her scars. It was ridiculous, of course. She was so utterly beautiful, he would never ever send her away for something as simple as horrible scarring.

But that caused an annoying and persistent question in his head. If he didn’t ask her then he was sure it would burst out of him at an inopportune time.

“Lia,” he called her name and she looked at him with a curious smile. “I wish to ask you something.”

She blinked. “Of course. I will answer anything you have for me.”

He stepped towards her and she immediately reached for him. Her fingers rested so gently on his arms. “It’s about your previous relationship.” Yrelia’s hands loosened on his arms, her brows began to knit together and he could see the anxious hesitation in her eyes. He could see the pain in them. “The man you had been in a relationship with five years ago, you said that he became unimpressed with you and no longer wished to be in a relationship with you.”

“Yes.”

“Yrelia, did he abandon you because of your scars?”

He watched as pain spread across her face. “Yes,” she said, and it was said with so much pain and so much weight that his own chest began to hurt. “He no longer found me attractive so he ended things between us.” A sorrowful frown played on her lips. “Please don’t misunderstand me, I haven’t had feelings for him in years but…it still hurts to think of how I was abandoned when I needed his comfort.”

She let out a sigh and went silent. Gale thought to respond but the look on her face told him she wasn’t finished. She was simply trying to find the words to say. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. She relaxed and let out another sigh.

“He had come by to check on me for the first time since I had been attacked. Cyr brought him to my bedroom and I was so happy to see him. I was lying in bed barely moving. I sat up and the blankets fell off me.” She frowned deeply. “He saw my chest and I swear it was like blowing out a candle. I was in so much pain, I had just wanted the person who loved me to comfort me and instead he decided that he couldn’t even look at me anymore. He interrupted me when I was trying to convince him to lie with me and told me he never wanted to see me again.” Gale felt her fingers put pressure on his arms. She took in a breath. “Even now I can still picture his face like it had just happened. I don’t think anyone has ever looked so disgusted at me.”

“Oh, Lia,” he said softly, his heart breaking for her. “I am so sorry, my love.” A sad smile spread across her lips as he pulled her into an embrace. “I will never treat you so poorly.”

She let out a breath that was close to a chuckle. “I know. I trust you.”

Yrelia had elected to never be in a relationship again after the previous one because it had hurt her so intensely. Gale remembered her surprise when he started to sweet talk her, when he would reach for her hands, when all he wanted to do was have conversations with her. She had been so cautious with him, especially after Mystra had tasked him to detonate the orb.

She had been, not cold to him, but her warm smiles she had for him had faded. She had kept him at arm's length after he had been given his mission and that horrifying loneliness crept into his heart. He had already fallen for her and she had started to act as if their feelings for each other didn’t matter anymore.

He hadn’t realized at the time that it was because she had been hurt so deeply by someone she had loved and didn’t want to be hurt again.

“Tell me,” Yrelia said after they had left the tower hand in hand. She looked so pretty in the sunlight. Her black hair that was tied up with a silver bow shined beautifully. Her lavender dress looked so flattering on her body. The short heels that she wore made her look very elegant. Her glossy lips looked so kissable. “Where are you taking me that you’re so excited about?”

“My darling, as I said, it’s a surprise.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “But first, lunch. No tasks should be done on an empty stomach.”

“Ah, so it’s a task that you’ve set me on,” she teased him. “I wonder if I’m wearing an appropriate outfit? Perhaps armor should have been better?”

“As much as I enjoy seeing you in armor, I assure you that it is unnecessary.” She giggled in response. “It is a simple errand, my love, nothing that will cause a bead of sweat to drip down your tantalizing body.”

“Gale!” She laughed. He pulled her in, bent her back, and buried his face in her neck. “Oh gods, darling, we’re in public,” she giggled.

“You’re irresistible,” he said to her throat before pressing a kiss into it. “I have half a mind to take you back to the bedroom and-”

“Tie me up with my pretty silver bow?” She suggested.

“That is certainly an option. A bit primitive compared to what I could conjure for you but it does have its worth.”

She laughed and stood up. “Hmmm, or perhaps I’ll do that to you.” She kissed him before turning and walking off. “Come on, Gale! Before I ruin your plans and choose where we eat!”

Gale followed after her with stars in his eyes. He wrapped his arm around her and pulled her in close. She laughed and wrapped her arm around him as they walked together into the city.

“Where did you get those earrings?” Gale asked curiously as he watched Yrelia eat her salad.

She hummed. “Your mother gave them to me. She supposedly bought them for herself but didn’t like the way they looked on her. Allegedly.”

““Supposedly?” “Allegedly?” Darling, are you calling my mother a liar?”

She gave him a flat look. “I’m calling your mother someone who would tell her daughter in-law that she happened to not like the earrings but thought that said daughter in-law would,” she said with an eye roll. She pointed her fork at him. “You will not ask how much these are worth and then tell me.”

“I will not ask how much they’re worth and tell you. Lia, I’m sure my mother just wanted to gift something to someone she loves.”

Yrelia sighed. “I know, but these are diamonds, Gale.”

“Well, of course! Did you think my mother would give you costume jewelry?”

“I didn’t think I’d get any jewelry,” she said with a small smile. “I’ve never worn much jewelry. There’s always the risk of it being lost or broken while working or hunting. I’m terrified I’ll lose my betrothal ring when ours are fused,” she sighed. “So, you know, no one ever gave me jewelry because it would be wasted on me.” She resumed eating her food like that statement didn’t bother her.

Gale didn’t like how casually she said that. “Wasted on”! The nerve of people making the love of his life believe that gifts would be wasted on her.

“No gift would be wasted on you, Lia,” he said. “The Dekarios clan is quite enthusiastic about gift giving. I’m afraid we’re all addicted to the thrill of it all. Jewelry, flowers, clothes, expensive spices, it’s all part of a grand plan to show others the love we have for them.”

She snorted. “Hm, yes, I’ve gathered that,” she said with amusement in her voice. “Darling, all I said is that jewelry isn’t the best gift for me.”

“Ah! No, you said “wasted”! Which is exceedingly untrue.”

“Gale-”

“Yrelia,” he said her name softly and slowly. She stopped talking and she even stopped tapping her heel anxiously. “You must accept that we love you and that part of love is receiving gifts.”

“I know. I will eventually become comfortable with your family being excellent gift givers,” she chuckled lightly. “But you know, Gale, I like it when you read your poetry to me more than anything.” She smiled at him. She reached for his hand and touched his fingers.

He immediately responded and entwined their fingers. He let out a sigh, accepting that she always knew exactly what to say to make her point clear. She was so ridiculously and sweetly endearing that way. His wonderful fiancée. The love of his life and the fire within his heart.

Gale led Yrelia down a busy Waterdeep street, holding onto her hand firmly, making sure that they wouldn’t be separated in the hustle and bustle. He stopped in front of a building and Yrelia grabbed his arm, squeezing and rubbing it with her thumb.

“Tydan’s shop?” Yrelia questioned curiously.

“Yes, that was our errand for the day,” he said with a warm smile.

Yrelia blinked. “Are our rings ready?”

His smile grew. “They are.”

Her eyes lit up. She jumped up and wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him in a way that made his head spin. He held her up and spun her.

“I love you,” she kissed his cheeks. She kissed his forehead. She kissed his nose.

“Dearest,” he chuckled. She kissed his lips and he grinned into the kiss. “Shall we head in?” He asked as she nuzzled his nose.

“Oh, alright,” she laughed and he set her down.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her into the shop.

“Can I help you?” A dwarf asked from the counter. Gale didn’t recognize him so he must be the new hire Tydan spoke about.

“We’re looking for Tydan,” Yrelia said and swung Gale’s hand back and forth.

“I’m afraid he’s quite busy,” the dwarf said. “I can always have him reach out to you at a later date.”

“We’re his in-laws,” Gale said and the dwarf blinked. “He called us here.”

“I see. Let me go…retrieve him.”

Yrelia bounced on her toes as they waited. She held his hand while she looked around the shop from her spot. Gale could tell she was overcome with elation and a bit of nervousness.

“If it isn’t my favorite in-laws!” Tydan, a stocky dwarf with long black hair and braided beard came in with his arms spread out.

“Tydan, it’s good to see you,” Gale said and released Yrelia’s hand to shake Tydan’s. Instead, Tydan hugged Gale and picked him up.

“Come now, Gale, we all know that hugs are the only greeting for family!” Yrelia giggled as Gale was set down. “Ah, dear Lia, you’re looking more radiant with every day that passes,” Tydan said and picked her up in a hug. “It must be the weight that you’re gaining! Oh, and of course, Lilypad’s advice on your hair! Your curls shine and bounce with elegance!”

Yrelia laughed. “Thank you, Tydan,” she said and he set her down.

“You’re quite welcome, my dear,” Tydan said with a grin. “You know, the boys couldn’t stop talking about you! You’ve been an excellent babysitter for Lilypad and I! It almost makes me think you’ve raised your own children!” He laughed heartily.

Yrelia smiled and then shifted in the slightest way. Gale watched Yrelia grab his hand and squeeze gently. He sighed with a smile.

“You want to know about Cyr?” Yrelia asked as she attempted to wash blood out of her shirt. She wore a camisole and Gale stood nearby as a somewhat, sort of guard for her, making sure no one who passed by would see her chest.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “You mentioned you have a large family but you’ve only spoken of Cyr and your grandparents.”

Yrelia sighed. “Um, yeah, Cyr and I are much closer than anyone else,” she said. She smiled up at him. “What did you want to know?”

“It’s…a somewhat uncomfortable question. One that I’ve been pondering on ever since you first mentioned your younger brother and I think of it every time you mention him.”

“That’s awfully cryptic, beloved,” she said with a curious smile. “You can always ask me about anything. I love you and I’m an open book for you to finger through.” She paused. “Wait…”

He huffed a laugh. “Darling, shall I begin?”

“To save me from my failed metaphor? Please.”

He let out a breath. “You have mentioned more than once how you took care of Cyr when he was a baby,” Gale started. “And you have plenty of stories when he was young.” Yrelia stopped washing her shirt and sighed. She closed her eyes, no doubt understanding what he was about to ask her. “Lia, did you…raise Cyr yourself?”

Yrelia sighed and then frowned. Gale watched her, not moving to press her.

But her silence also answered his question

“Yes,” she quietly answered him after the silent moment. “Cyr wasn’t planned. When he was born our parents were uninterested in raising him but wouldn’t give him up for adoption out of pride. My grandparents were too old to take care of him and I couldn’t let him be neglected so I…” she clicked her teeth. “I raised him as if he was my own child.”

He stared at her, expecting her to continue, wanting her to continue. “I suspect you were at a loss,” he prompted.

She snorted. “I had no idea what I was doing. I was so young and had barely any support, especially after my grandparents died.” She frowned. “When I was eighteen I started my first serious relationship. She had helped me out with Cyr and I thought she was happy to.” A bitter laugh came from her throat. “We used to talk about the three of us running away and being a family together but apparently she hadn’t been serious about it. What she had actually wanted was her own children and when she realized she wouldn’t get that from me because I had Cyr she left me for someone who could give that to her. Not without sleeping with that person before she had broken it off with me of course.” She sighed. “I was hurt and then it became harder to raise Cyr without her. That combined with the loss of my grandparents I really struggled. I had put my entire life on hold to raise him. I did what I could for him hoping that it would work out when he got older.”

“I’m sure he’s a fine young man,” Gale said confidently. “But if you raised him I suspect he’s as stubborn as you are, dearest,” he teased.

Yrelia snorted. “You’re not wrong,” she said with a grin. “He really is such a good kid. He was always so willing to learn, if I could have afforded tutors I would have thrown them at him. He could have done something great with a real education. But I couldn’t do that for him so I taught him everything I knew and he always seemed so happy to learn,” she had a strained smile on her face and a look in her eyes saying that she felt unnecessarily guilty over how she raised Cyr.

“I don’t know him, but I would assume that he’s grateful for you,” Gale said softly. “Anyone who would step up the way you did deserves such gratitude.”

She smiled. “He was a pretty happy kid. He didn’t let our parents distaste bother him the way it bothered me. He never let it be known if he was bothered by the fact I couldn’t afford much for him.”

“Then why does it haunt you still?”

“Because parents are supposed to want better for their children,” she said and Gale’s brows twitched. She sighed. “I know he sees me as his mother and, truth be told, I see him as my son.” She chuckled bitterly. “Imagine me, a teenager just trying to be a kid when a baby is dropped in my lap!”

Gale thought back to his teenage years where he spent most of the time getting in trouble, mastering spells, and adding more greys to both Morena and Tara’s hair. They had completely different lives. Gale wondered if that would be a problem for her. Their experiences were so different, maybe they were too different for her and they had only bonded through shared trauma.

“You see him as your son,” Gale said with a clear of his throat. “Does that mean you want children in the future?” If Yrelia said she wanted children Gale was certain he would come to want them too. He didn’t believe he was father material but he would be for her.

Her lips turned into a frown. “Gale, you can never repeat what I’m about to tell you,” she said. “Swear to me you won’t.”

“Lia, of course I won’t. You can tell me absolutely anything and even under pain of death I won’t utter the words.”

She smiled at him tiredly. “I don’t want children.” She let out a breath. “I don’t want children because I don’t want to go through pregnancy and I never want to give birth nor do I want to spend the money on adoption,” she sighed. “I love Cyr, I really do, but I don’t want to raise another child. I lost so much of my young life to raising him and I don’t want to lose more of my life to raising another. I don’t think I have it in me to love another child the way you have to love one. I don’t want to do that.” She frowned deeply. “Isn’t that horrible?”

“No,” he said with a shake of his head. “No, Yrelia, it’s not horrible. You’ve had to mourn your young adult life,” he took in a breath, his confidence and boldness shining through. He would hint at the future he was wishing for for the two of them. “I would never want you to mourn any part of our life together.” He smiled at her, hoping that it was comforting. “Your guilt is unnecessary, my love.” He bent down to pick up her hand and kiss her knuckles. “And as promised, we will never have to speak of this topic again and you can count on me to never repeat your words.”

A smile spread across her lips. “Thank you. You’re so good to me.”

“You deserve this and so much more.” He kissed her knuckles again. Her warm smile grew. “My love, your strength is magnificent and incomparable, and I am truly humbled that you have chosen me to bring you comfort.”

“Well, yeah,” she said, the sorrow in her voice had nearly vanished and was replaced with affection. “I love you. There’s no one else I’d choose over you.”

“Here they are,” Tydan presented two ornate wooden ring boxes. “And I cannot thank you two enough for choosing me to fuse your rings together. I’m honored.”

“You are the best smith I know, Tydan,” Gale said. “And you are family. I’m the one who is honored.”

Tydan chortled. “Hard to believe that you’re finally getting married!” He smacked Gale’s back. “I remember when you were just out of university and-”

“Tydan,” Gale chuckled nervously. “I’m not so sure that Yrelia would like to hear about my young adult…exploits.” He knew that she didn’t care and he knew that she loved hearing stories about him when he was younger, but he didn’t necessarily want to share how he…

Well, he just wasn’t sure if Yrelia wanted to know of his previous “relationships”.

“Oh! No! Do tell me more,” Yrelia teased. “I am quite curious about my fiancé when he was young and reckless.”

“Well,” Tydan said with a grin. “There was this one time-”

“Please, you two,” Gale groaned with a blush.

Yrelia and Tydan laughed.

“Oh, love, we’re just teasing you,” she giggled and kissed his cheek. “You don’t have to tell me how you couldn’t be tamed when you were young.” Tydan guffawed and Gale groaned again. “Alright, I’m done. I suppose it’s a bit silly to talk about such things while we receive our betrothal rings.” She kissed his cheek twice.

He sighed and wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. He and Yrelia took the ring boxes from Tydan and he smiled at them, his wide eyed joy turned into warmth. “I will let you two have some privacy,” he said. “It was good to see you two. We’ll see you in a couple days for dinner with Morena.”

Gale smiled and thanked Tydan. He stared at the ring box and then to Yrelia, who was tracing the engravings on her box. Gale opened the ring box and let out a breath that he hadn’t realized he had held in. He looked at his beautiful betrothal ring. His betrothal ring. His! He was getting married.

He picked up the ring and it took everything he had within him to not cry. He never thought this was in the cards for him. He never, ever thought he would find himself in a smith holding a ring that he would wear on his middle finger for the rest of his life. The two rings welded together to represent his bond with the love of his life.

He had told Yrelia of the Waterdeep tradition of fusing two rings together for betrothal rings while on their trip home from Baldur’s Gate. They had been laying in bed together, her loose hair on the pillow as he wrapped it around his fingers. She had hummed thoughtfully.

“I don’t have any rings, though,” she had said lightly.

“Then I will buy you one,” he declared. “You can pick out any ring and I will purchase it for you.”

She laughed. “How about you pick out one and surprise me?” She turned into him. “And I will pick out one for you. A fresh start for the both of us.”

Gale couldn’t be happier with the result. Such a beautiful piece of jewelry that he would wear for the rest of his life. One that filled him with so much joy he barely knew what to do with it. He became misty eyed and quickly rubbed his eyes with a smile.

He looked at Yrelia and let out a soft sigh. Her eyes were dancing as she delicately opened the ring box. She gingerly took the ring out of the box. She breathed for a moment, tracing the engraved flowers on her half of the ring. She rotated the ring to his half and fingered the small stars.

She brought the ring to her eye level and read the inscription on the inside of the band. He prided himself on the inscription. It was quite simple, nothing too descriptive, but it said everything that he wanted her to know.

In vita et morte

Gale watched Yrelia as she held her ring in her fingers. He could tell she was thinking intensely about something, she had such a thoughtful look on her face. She stopped rotating it and wrapped the chain that it was on around her neck, pressing the ring into her chest. She let out a breath, something close to relief and disbelief.

He reached for her hand and she looked at him. He brought her knuckles to his lips and kissed them. Her gaze softened and she smiled. “My lady,” he said, his voice soft and calm. “Are you ready to return home?”

Her smile brightened. She took his ring in her fingers and wrapped the chain it was on around his neck. She leaned towards him on her toes and kissed him so incredibly softly that he felt himself become misty eyed again. “I’m ready, my beloved.”

They left with her arm wrapped around his. Gale hadn’t felt this elated since…ever. He couldn’t think of a time he had ever been as thrilled as he was in that very moment. He’d like to think that when he came into his own magic, when he was so deep in research he had been this ecstatic. Or maybe when he was a Chosen of Mystra, when she called him special, when she entertained him.

But, no, this was the happiest he had ever been. Yrelia was holding onto his arm as he wore his union ring around his neck. She looked so happy to be with him. She looked so pretty in the autumn sunlight, her silver bow shining. He was going to be married to someone who he loved so unconditionally. He was going to be married to someone who loved him.

She rested her head on him and hummed. Her heels clicked on the stone pavement. He became misty eyed again and rubbed his eyes. Yrelia pulled away from him and took his face in his hands with a soft expression. She pulled him in and nuzzled his face. He gently took her wrists in his hands, holding onto the woman he could no longer imagine life without.

And he cried.

How long had he buried the desire to be wed in favor of his goddess? To no longer search for something that he had so deeply longed for?

The dreams of coming home with flowers and wine, soft kisses in thanks turning into barely held back desire. Dancing to no music, tasting each other’s food, sitting on the balcony watching the sunset together. Not getting out of bed until late morning, holding hands while walking in the city, reading poetry to one another.

He had that now.

He wasn’t alone anymore.

His love kissed his forehead and then his lips. She rested her forehead on his.

“Pardon me, my lady, I’m afraid there’s dust in my eye,” he whispered.

A light giggle came from her throat and she kissed his closed eyes. “Ah, of course, my beloved,” she said, her voice soft. “I’m sure the autumn dust is terrible here.”

He chuckled. “It is,” he confirmed and kissed her lips. He looked past her and his heart felt light. “Follow me,” he said and took her hand. “We’ve arrived at the stop I wanted to go to before we went home.”

“Oh? I wasn’t aware that there would be a stop!” She giggled and allowed him to lead the way.

“Usually I would pick this up on my way home from the Academy but I assumed you’d be interested in picking out your own this time.”

“Picking out…?” She looked ahead before blinking. “My love, you just bought me a very expensive piece of jewelry, there’s no need for flowers,” she said but continued to follow him.

“Darling, if I do not buy you flowers when appropriate then assume that I have been abducted and are in need of rescue!”

She let out a loud, joyous laugh. “Gods, Gale, I love you so much.” She stood next to him and wrapped her arm around his. “I think I want daisies this time.”

“Then that’s what you’ll have.” He kissed her temple. They stopped in front of his florist and he smiled at the wonderful floral sculpture in the window. He turned to her and his brows rose in shock. “My lady,” he whispered. He reached for her dress and pulled it over her chest, where a scar was starting to show.

She blinked and placed her hand on her chest where he had lifted the dress. She let out a breath before smiling gracefully. They leaned in and kissed. “I love you,” she said before kissing him again. “And I am so happy that you’re the one I’m going to marry.” She kissed him one last time. “Now, show me these daisies you’re buying for me.”

He took her hand from her chest, kissed it, and started to lead her into the shop. “Whatever you desire, my love, consider it most eagerly done.”

[zapalimesvet]

I decided to drop here some of the Jane Uris lore because I changed her AGAIN.

Here is Jane beating up Henry some weeks before school ends:

1989 June. Derry, maine

She was going down the school stairs. Her shoes were cracking on the shinny floor that was usually covered with mud but today it’s gonna be dirty with Henry Bowers’ blood. Jane went through big green opening doors, went to to right and here she sees him, he was leaning his back on a locker along his dogs that were everywhere with him. She stopped right next to him, nobody was paying attention to her, but they loved to ignore her and act as she didn’t existed.

“Listen, stop doing things to Stanley or it won’t end good for you” she spook calmly but Henry was not in mood for kindness

“What? Stop putting yourself in my business”

He laughed her off loud. What the hell she thinks she can speak with him like that? With a boy who’s younger than her but whole school is scared of him? What the fuck she thinks about herself? That dirty girl?!?

“He’s my brother, leave him be” this was the last warning Jane could give him without punching him down on ground.

“Go away slut” Patrick yawned and smiled, more likely smile full of disgust. For Jane, Patrick always need to have last words. She gave him last look before paying again attention to Henry who’s stepping closer to her making her take steps back

“What will you do about it? Huh? I would break you with only one punch.” He rolled his eyes and again laughed. Kids slowly stopped making their way to classes and looked at Jane and Henry, they knew it’ll be big fight. They wouldn’t peel their eyes off of them until they’ll know what’s doing on. Richie was pushing kids out of his way along Bill and Eddie, Stanley. They saw how Jane threw her black Vans Backpack and jumped on Henry. Richie made little „ouch” when he saw how Jane hit Henry against metal lockers, he groaned in pain and rolled down next to Patrick who took steps away along with Belch and Victor. Henry felt backstabbed by them and will give them their own medicine later. With back pain he had chance to grab Jane by leg and made her slip down, hitting her back and head. He punched her into her nose. He didn’t cared she was a girl, she deserves it, she’s disgusting slut how Patrick says. Jane started to feel stronger, the pain went slowly away, she didn’t felt biggest pain when Henry punched her into stomach and he was stronger than her. She would say that god stands by her side.

“You go Jane!” Richie screamed, Patrick heard it and his face expression made Richie shiver and shut down. Now he knows that not only Henry bowers will get beaten up today. Jane grabbed his blond hair he had cutted into mullet and pulled it so hard some of his hair left on her sweaty hand. She smashed his head against shinny cold floor. Not only Henry’s head was bleeding but also his nose, he looked wasted.

Tears were flowing down Jane’s cheeks when she was standing up, her body was aching. The last kick between Henry’s legs finished him.

“Don’t you dare to land a hand on my brother ever again..and learn how to walk in heeled boots.” She scoffed in pain, grabbed her bag. Kids were still standing there, without words. Did just a girl put down Henry Bowers? She looked at so many kids that were looking at her, but something was off. A big shadow was standing totally in the back behind the kids, a person in Clown clothing, he was smiling and waving at her. Jane shook from goosebumps that formed on her back «it’s probably not real, I got badly hit in the head» she told herself and left to the green doors from the exit of school. In half of her way Patrick laughed, it was enough to tease her and made her turn to him. Jane groaned as she saw him smiling like he had won something. «Why is he always smiling?» she asked herself as she was walking back to him. She saw how Belch and Victor helped Henry to stand up on his aching legs.

„you want to?!?” Jane hissed on him

„god chill..” he scoffed

„Shut up playboy” Jane rolled eyes, she came back to him for nothing, just to be laughed off.

„Aw! You think I’m hot enough to be in playboy?”

„hot enough to burn in hell Hockstetter” she showed him middle finger before walking out the school, smashing doors closed.

I hope it’s good. I have so many scenarios written with pen in my notebook and I decided to start typing it into my phone very late so… this is all I have in my phone lol. Enjoy!

Art: @misszura

[katyspersonal]

I don't believe I am going to make much SOTE progress today, especially since this traitor @fantomette22 is apparently asleep/busy and can't help me right now -_- So yeah, some extra stuff before bed

1) It is interesting to think of an implication of this item.. damn, apparently there WILL be places where you are stuck but can't teleport or something? :p Okay then.. Sacrificial Twig + this shit it is, then?

2) They continue with the "monkeys are trying to comprehend magic" lore!

! Onze is the Demihuman swordsman I fought in the Belurat Gaol earlier! The sword is dropped by a Demihuman Queen you fight in Cerulean Coast! I mean, yeah, even in the base game there was a Demihuman in Weeping Penunsula who used a Glintstone Staff, but damn..

3) Miyazaki: Yeah DLC area map will be like the size of Limgrave :)

Also Miyazaki:

Me: Girl you ok? 💀💀💀

4) I love the woman with Sulyvahn's blades, but I can't defeat the woman with Sulyvahn's blades ;-;

Maybe eventually.....

5) WAIT gdhyyf it is like, a symbol of moon and flame or something?????

This is adorable gfhgfhgggb I know it makes sense, but aww

6) I already screamed about it at Fantomette, but

HOLY SHIIIIIT SHE WAS FUCKING RIGHT ABOUT DRAGONS FASCISM THIS WHOLE TIME WHEN WE QUESTIONED WHY WOULD DRAGON COMMUNION BE A THING IF GODWYN BEFRIENDED ANCIENT DRAGONS THE ANSWER IS THAT ANCIENT DRAGONS FUCKING HATED GREYOLL-TYPE DRAGONS I REPEAT THEY HATED THE "IMPURE" OFFSPRING OFF THEIR SPECIES WHAT THE FUUUUUCK AAAAAAA

7) There is a new Carian Knight! And it is a big deal since they were "no more than a dozen"! Cool!!!

And it is a girl! However I am curious.. Moongrum, Moonrothyll... why their names start with 'moon'? Are they siblings? Or maybe Carian Knights had ancestry thing going on so those born with expectation to be raised as Carian Knight had 'moon' names in advance? Or they assume 'moon' name as new one upon entering a service (least likely since we already can recall exception)? Arghhhh

8) Okay this was actually an important one for me personally! So basically @jarognieva asked me whether I've met Queelign and I said I had no idea who it was. So greeeat, I've missed an invader -_- She said he was at Belurat and I checked but he never appeared, so I assumed he is one of those invaders that vanish after the boss of the area is defeated. (Who thought it was a good idea? I bet I've missed a cool drop... ;-; ) However, she added that he also invades in another place but she would not tell where! I didn't mind that and continued exploring the DLC as usual. So, after defeating that red bear beast at last (horaaaay!!!), I decided to check a distinct building on that map, and GUESS WHO I'VE MET?????

THE FUCKING GUY HIMSELF LOL!!! OF COURSE HE HAS A FUCKING PETRUS HAIRSTYLE LMAOOOOOOO GGJHJGJJ

So basically bro talked shit (that all 'graceless' shall meet death in Messmer's flame), that already made me REALLY want to kill him as if this cursed hairstyle wasn't enough gghghg . And he also called us 'graceless heathen' upon death lol. But it ACTUALLY clicked when he dropped an item, like:

Okay all 6 of you already had enough of my lunatic ravings about how much I abhor this specific type of attitude, as well as my theories on Messmer's motivations being rooted in purism of religious kind when anon asked about my expectations for him (I haven't met him yet so schhhh). But it is.. more than that. Miyazaki hates this sort of people too, especially he consistenyly bullies clerics in his works. Just.. read this description

Like not only this gave me some STRONG hatred for this character already, but also reminded me of one of the reasons I ended up loving Miyazaki's works so much to begin with. Shit like this just makes me feel understood, and without exagerration, reading this gave me HUMANITY RESTORED effect after I was feeling low because of a certain spoiler 😔 Honestly.. I don't care how many dramatic blonde twinks he will do dirty with a random plot twist, but as long as he addresses his disdain for this kind of people in his works I'll always love his games. Like I know it sounds oddly emotional but you need to be familiar with his other works to understand vfhgjbghb My faith in him as a creator straight up got restored, it is a personal detail for me!

9) So I figured that Ascetics are dropping pieces of their set.. I had suspicions, yeah, but now I am just sad ggjhhhjj I don't want to grind these guys *ends up doing it anyway probably*

10) For some reason I am starting to really like that hornsent guy who drafts maps of Miquella's crosses! Knowing Soulsborne tho I guess I just need to wait for something bad to happen to him -_-

11) Some people (all two of them) legit thank me for showing these item descriptions because they can't play the DLC themselves, but the players they watch don't stop to read items lore! Okay.... I guess I'll continue, heheh;

[super-secret-clown-corner]

catching up on the kabsmp videos rn and i'm having normal person thoughts as usual anyway did you guys ask for a crazy ass idea on where i think the storyline is gonna go because i have a crazy ass idea on where i think the storyline is gonna go (this is gonna get long sorry in advance)

In Which I Lose My Mind Over Some Guy's Minecraft Persona In A Goofy Ahh Lore SMP

cover image for sillies

So. Hear me out. Clown is still the overarching villain of the series. Whatever's happening with Kyle and the void is still """""important"""""" n stuff, but (totally not because i'm biased or anything (i totally am)) that's all a red herring covering up the real threat. The idea I have rn is that Clown is biding his time and finishing up whatever research he had on the void, then when Kyle is defeated, he's gonna swoop in, take the void for himself, and become basically unstoppable which'll lead into season 3 or smth.

Bits Of Info That Makes The Pepe Silvia Meme Cover Relevant

Time to be insane and dump every single bit of potential evidence on why I think Clown's a bigger threat than the others think he is, starting at the very beginning (i'll try to keep this as chronological as possible but i'm busting my brain trying to piece everything together i watched this so out of order at first).

First, obviously, is the whole him killing Pyro bit and betraying him to get to Rae, then killing everyone in the commune. hoWEVER bro just casually tore open a portal to the nether and back and none of the other people in the group can do that. It's kinda hinting that Muu knows how to make portals but other than that the original s1 group has been stuck there since the start (which maybe suggests Muu isn't from this dimension also but that's another thing to unpackage).

a side note here: lincu came from an end portal that clown made for maddy and they NEVER BRING THAT UP AGAIN????????? WHAT

In the Pyro POV that came after that, it was heavily suggested that Clown was originally a conqueror or insanely destructive pillager (not the actual mob) (like come on, "bow before the scythe emblem" or whatever the words are? just write your name in the book you're practically screaming it at this point). Then, when Branzy showed up in that cameo episode, he didn't shut up about how Clown destroyed entire villages and killed a fuck ton of people (i will scream more about this point in a second 😁).

In the Season 2 opener animatic, he dropped his manipulative buddy buddy act the moment the void appeared, stabbed Kaboodle, and fucked off. He was also shown going full aggro on Magic, trying to get information about the void from her. A little while later, he's shown reading books on the void and finds something "perfect" for whatever he's planning (brain explosion).

Looping back to the Branzy cameo, it was revealed that he, Branzy, and Ashswag worked together in a laboratory somewhere in a different dimension researching and experimenting with portals. Ashswag said that Clown pushed him into one they made, which resulted in him glitched out and broken (WHICH OPENS UP ANOTHER CAN OF WORMS ARE THEY SUGGESTING THAT THIS IS ALL ACTUALLY JUST A SIMULATION/GAME LIKE HOW MINECRAFT ACTUALLY IS???????????? holy shit if i think about this for too long i'm gonna have another huge scream fest again).

and THEN in the most recent one as of today (aka A New Issue) it's revealed that Pyro had his suspicions that Clown is otherworldly and unnatural. Bro casually soloed a 100-Piglin invasion. I already had the thought of "oh yeah this guy's definitely not from any of the three dimensions" but the only contradictory thing that popped up for that was he and Pyro used to live together for a bit with the Waste Walkers. HOWEVER with this new information that Clown was just this anomaly that popped up periodically in their group, he's practically screaming that he's not from any of the three dimensions.

BASICALLY. I'M VERY NORMAL RIGHT NOW.

i love overcomplicating silly lore as a pastime

[spiralstereo]

intro.

[my beloved partners- @clovergeneral, @tobywizardb]

[pronouns page] [better pronouns page]

// im in my change era \\

Herez a cool playlist!!! 🪩🗯️🎧‼️

\\

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[❓] What is to be expected here?

[❗️] I'm an artist & writer, so expect mostly that type of content!

I have a tag system btw!! It's fairly new (except for my art tag) so don't expect there to be much on there.

#☆ kais art! ☆ will be used on art

#asks 💭 will be used on asks (i also have an askbox game thing scroll down)

#kaiju posts will be used on normal posts

flavors of posts

🍃 trotting around! // therian stuff

📓 yearbook! // pictures, images, not art

#roleplaying shenanigans 🌀 will be used on me roleplaying...

#kai yaps will be used on ramblings & lore fun facts

flavors of yapping

🍤 shrimp flavor // lore drops, explanations

🍱 bento flavor // updated lore, changes

🍡dango flavor // fun facts, little bits

🍛 curry flavor // lore with designs, art!

🍙 rice ball flavor // just yapping

#kai stinks!! will be used on vents & rants

#announcement! will be used on, you won't guess what (/sar)- announcements.

flavors of announcements

💬 just a heads up... // minor announcements

🔈 /srs // serious announcements

🔔 reminder! // announcement for lore

#reblog!! will be used on- you guessed it! reblogs.

flavors of reblogs

📂 ooh! // will be used on stuff i find interesting

💌 yay! // will be used on stuff featuring characters i like/love

🎉 yippee! // will be used on reblogging announcements with a /pos tone/context

🗯️ frowns // will be used on reblogging announcements with a /neg tone/context

#📊 poll! will be used on polls

#blorbo posting! (+ an emoji for each character) will be used for me yapping & posting about my blorbos

blorbo tags

blorbo posting! 👻 // ghostwalker phighting...

blorbo posting! 🐍 // DARKHEAR...

There will also be a fair bit of me being silly & rambling. I also try to keep my blog free of political & controversial topics. I do not want to be involved, so please keep it away from here.

Alot of my writing & AU stuff contains sensitive & disturbing topics that may make people uncomfortable. I am a proud horror & angst enjoyer- so I tend to get extreme with it sometimes. So please keep that in mind & be cautious if you're triggered by said things.

Adding onto that, please let me know if you don't want angsty roleplays on my blogs. I rarely ever to fluffy stuff, so if you're uncomfortable or annoyed with it please tell me. I do not pick up on hints about that I am so sorry.

Speaking of my au & stuff, I have some ask box games going on!! Here they are!! (Send me asks pls)

[❓] What are some basic things about yourself?

[❗️] First of all, I'm bodily a minor. Please keep NSFW & that gross icky stuff away from me. I am fine with suggestive stuff- & there might be suggestive things here & there.

I'm a system!! Not plural all the time, kinda new to this... but yeah!!!

We don't have something we go by collectively yet... so- just call us based on who's fronting? It's usually Hexx

We might change up our tagging system to make it more accurate, its kinda outdated

I am a pretty private person. I have trust issues & therefore I like having my personal life separate from my online life. This does not mean you cannot ask what I did today or how my day was, but just expect me to be vague &/or hesitant.

I'm autistic!! I don't always understand &/or get things so tone tags would be appreciated. I don't fully understand them myself yet, I'm still learning, so I don't use them all the time! Here is a masterpost/masterlist of tone tags if you have trouble understanding them..

[❓] What are your interests?

[❗️] As of right now, I'm hyperfixated on PHIGHTING! My favorite characters are Darkheart, Ghostwalker, & Subspace in that particular order.

I make a lot of OCs for things I'm obsessing over, & that also means making my own AU & writing my own lore for it! Please ask me about it!! It makes me so happy.

I have an unnamed PHIGHTING! fanon that I'm making/have made with one of my beloved partners, @clovergeneral. I have a community for it!! It's here!!

I also have a lot of original stuff that I probably won't talk about much, but I might share it with you guys when I properly write it. I've shared some things about it so far, & it's called 'Glitch! Trio'. I have a side blog about it, @glitch-trio. They mean sm to me....

As for other interests, I'm also interested in Pokemon, Pokepasta, ULTRAKILL, Regretevator, IHNMAIMS (I Have No Mouth & I Must Scream), Mystery Flesh Pit National Park, Iron Lung, Project Moon games (more so Library of Ruina & Lobotomy Corporation), Item Asylum, Mandela Catalogue, The Walten Files (TWF), & Jujutsu Kaisen.

Notable mention. I fucking love keytars. They're so fucking cool I love them.

[❓] What are the rules for this blog?

[❗️] First of all, use common sense. It shouldn't be hard in the first place. Think before you speak or ask, that stuff.

I am a person too. I have a life, goals, feelings, etc. So treat me like a person. I'll respect you, please respect me back.

Basic DNIs. Homophobes, transphobes, racists, xenophobes, zoophiles, pedophiles/maps, proshippers, comshippers, anti-furries, anti-therians, or any other creeps. I will block you if I feel like it or if I'm uncomfortable.

Again, please do not bring up political &/or controversial topics. Religion is....okay. I prefer not to speak too much about religious stuff because I myself am an atheist, because I don't know all that much about other religions & I don't want to say anything that will get me in trouble. I respect all religions though.

[❓] What are your other blogs?

[❗️] Here is a masterpost of all my side blogs. I have an addiction to making new blogs to expect the number of them to grow.

[❓] What else do you do here?

[❗️] I do silly stupid shit, & I also roleplay as characters on this blog because I either haven't made a blog for them yet or I just feel like it. Oh also there's some 'events' that happen.

For example- it's kinda an inside joke between me & my partner Clover but I'm gonna explain it real quick. I was keyboard smashing & I accidentally pressed the British flag emoji (🇬🇧) so I thought it would be funny if I pretended to get 'colonized' so. yeah

I'm making a tag for it because it's funny. Uhhh uhhh it's #🇬🇧🇬🇧 GOD BLESS THE QUEEN 🇬🇧🇬🇧 (im so funny haha. im funny right. right guys)

I have AUs & lore specific stuff for the fandoms I'm interested in!! I'll list them & the tags right here

PHIGHTING!

D-Sides! (#d-sides!)

Pirmer! (#🐚 pirmer! 🪸)

Post Justice! (#post justice 🪬)

POKEMON

Frozen Unova (#frozen unova)

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