#the trick is to have so many that painting on them does not feel precious

[lavendorium]

I have yet to do a single canvas painting since the last time I bought buy-one-get-two-free canvases. And yet I bought 12 more buy-one-get-two-free canvases.

[monstersdownthepath]

Homebrew Horror: The Unnamed

The world hosts all manner of boogeymen and ghost stories, many of which are based on very real entities that prank or prey upon mankind when the sun sets and the lights go out, but few enjoy the obscurity and success of the Thing with No Name. There is perhaps a handful of people in all the world who can claim to have witnessed the nameless horror hunt its prey, and fewer still who are telling the truth about it, as to speak of it to another is to invite it into your life.

The scant scratches of concrete information that can be pieced together all paint a similar picture: It is predator that has haunted thinking beings as far back in history as anyone can look, its methods of hunting and its means of killing leaving precious little evidence behind. What it truly is, where it came from, and why it hunts the way it does are all mysteries which cannot be solved. Rare and esoteric writings which tell of it list numerous titles, all unhelpful; The Thing with No Name, the Stain on the Page (or simply "the Stain"), the Nameless Legend, and simply the Unnamed. It is written that such ambiguous titles are to protect the reader, not the creature, for attempting to affix any more descriptive title to it is the surest way to invite its horrific attention.

The Unnamed is one of several self-keeping secrets in creation, hunting down and annihilating any creature which knows too many details or who becomes too curious of it, for reasons which may never be truly known. For those it hunts, it seems like a nightmare made terribly real in a way few other creatures can match; an unstoppable, inescapable force which will use seemingly any trick to disorient, mislead, and ultimately capture its victim.

Anyone targeted by the Stain can always feel when it's near, and rarely do they ever manage to find help before they're simply never seen again. Witnesses to the scenes rarely speak, and never coherently, never to say what they saw, lest it target them next. Even in scenes where a tremendous struggle obviously took place, investigators struggle to turn up so much as a single drop of blood or scrap of hair of the victim... but sometimes they find something else. A misshapen footprint, a handprint caused by something deeply inhuman, or some strange fluid almost but not quite like blood that causes the mind to reel with a single touch.

Not enough to solve a mystery, just enough to make one curious. Just enough to make one try and wipe away a stain of ink on some dusty old report tucked away in the back of an archive to see what could have been written underneath.

The Unnamed CR 13 Chaotic Evil Medium Aberration (Shapechanger) Init: +8 Senses: Darkvision 60ft, low-light vision, thoughtsense 60ft, blindsight 20ft; Perception +23 Aura: Unwind (30ft, DC 24) ------ Defense ------ AC 29, touch 14, flat-footed 25 (+4 Dex, +15 natural) HP 193 (15d8+105), Regeneration 5 (Cold) Fort +12, Ref +9, Will +14 Defensive Abilities: Amorphous, Unbound, Undone; DR 10/Cold Iron and Lawful; Immune: Charms and compulsions, death effects, poison; Resist: Acid 15, Electricity 15, Fire 15; SR 19 ------ Offense ------ Speed: 50ft, climb 30ft Melee: Bite +17 (1d8+6 plus poison/19-20), slam +15 (1d8+6 plus grab), 3 tentacles +15 (1d4+6 plus pull) Ranged: Bone dart +15/+10/+5 (1d3+6 plus poison/19-20) Space: 5ft, Reach: 5ft (10ft with bite, 20ft with tentacles) Special Attacks: Pull (10ft), rake (Bite +17, 1d8+6 plus poison), Unwind Spell-like Abilities (CL 15, concentration +17) Constant: Freedom of Movement At-will: Dancing Darkness, Ghost Sound (DC 13), Ventriloquism (DC 13) 3/day: Rusting Grasp, Telekinesis (DC 17), Warp Wood 1/day: Knock, Modify Memory (DC 16), Teleport, Traumatic Eyebite (DC 18) ------ Statistics ------ Str 23 Dex 19 Con 25 Int 13 Wis 21 Cha 15 Base Atk: +11; CMB: +16; CMD: 31 Feats Combat Reflexes, Critical Focus, Improved Critical (bite, bone dart), Improved Initiative, Multiattack, Traumatic Spell-like Ability (Eyebite), Sickening Critical Skills Acrobatics +13, Bluff +13, Climb +21, Intimidate +15, Perception +23, Stealth +21, Survival +23 Languages All; language mastery. SQ Change Shape (any past victim; see Uncanny), Compression, Unknown ------ Ecology ------ Environment: Any Organization: Unique Treasure: Standard (taken trophies) ------ Combat: The Stain enjoys toying with its Target out of both sadism and pragmatism, forcing them to make mistakes and expend resources battling shadows and hallucinations. It goes Unseen as long as it is able to, tormenting them with its spell-like abilities to haunt them, destroy or remove light sources, weapons, and escape routes, and make it seem as though it is coming from everywhere at once. It will attempt to hit them with one or several of its bone darts to infuse them with its poison and terrorize them with the hallucinations, but it will try to avoid killing them with its darts (including by making them nonlethal). It will further toy with them with its tentacle attacks from a distance, making them think their hallucinations are real, until eventually wearing them down and closing in to finish them off and consume them. Against a large group of victims, it will attempt to isolate and pick them off one by one after loosening their reasoning with its poisonous aura, stolen voices, and Eyebite. When the mood strikes, it leaves one survivor (never its Target) alive but traumatized and possibly insane, usually using its Modify Memory to erase the majority of the encounter. But never all of it.

Morale: If a group of creatures has no Target among them, the Unnamed will fight only long enough to potentially traumatize one into becoming a Target later, and then flee to let the memories fester. When in a combat involving its Target, the Unnamed will always attempt to kill them, even if its own life is in danger. If its foes prove to be beyond its power, it will still attempt a death or glory attack against its Target. Its own life doesn't matter. It will come back eventually. ------ Special Abilities ------

Unbound (Ex): The Unnamed will not be denied its happiness. It may make an additional saving throw at the end of each of its turns to remove any effect causing any of the following conditions, even if the effect causing the condition does not normally permit a saving throw: blind, confused, dazed, deafened, exhausted, fatigued, nauseated, sickened, slowed, staggered, and stunned. This does not require an action. If it is affected by multiple effects or conditions, it may only make one additional saving throw with this ability each turn.

Uncanny (Ex): The Unnamed can use its Change Shape ability as a full-round action to change into any creature it has ever consumed, but its shape is grotesquely twisted to the point it could not possibly be mistaken for a normal creature. It does not gain any additional abilities or attacks, the changes are purely cosmetic. Similarly, though it can speak any language, its voice is completely inhuman and distorted. Creatures under the effects of its poison (see Unwind, below) or who are confused or insane instead see and hear it as if the transformation was flawless. This effect is lost if they are adjacent to it.

Undone (Su): If the Unnamed reduces a Target to 0 HP or lower with its attacks while the Target is both within its reach and suffering from the effects of its poison (see Unwound, below), the Target's body crumbles to a fine dust the Unnamed may inhale as an immediate action or at any point within the next minute as a swift action. When it does so, it regains 4d8+15 hitpoints and may immediately end one condition or effect on itself.

Unknown (Su): Whenever a creature attempts to give a more descriptive title or a name to the Unnamed, or attempts to describe or dictate its appearance or abilities in detail to another being, they must attempt a DC 19 Will save. Success indicates that they stop themselves from going through with the attempt as a brief sense of dread washes over them. Failure allows them to fully convey the information, but they become a Target. When creature becomes a Target, they are shaken automatically for one round by the sense that they have committed some unfathomable wrong. What "naming/describing the Unnamed" entails will vary at the DMs discretion; it could be as simple as writing details into a document meant to be read by another, speak the details aloud to another, or drawing it a little too clearly, but it must be a willing, conscious attempt to define or describe the Unnamed to another intelligent creature. Creatures defining or describing the Unnamed only for themselves may still become Targets, at the DMs discretion (it often allows these creatures to write just enough to make a potential reader curious, but no more). The Unnamed knows the precise location of all Targets not shielded by divine power, as well as the distance and direction to them relative to itself. Targets become permanently shaken whenever the Unnamed is within 1 mile of them as a feeling of impending doom creeps into their minds, and if it is within 100ft, this condition pierces all forms of immunity to fear. All parts of this ability work across all boundaries and through any barrier.

Unseen (Sp/Su): When not being observed by an intelligent creature, the Unnamed may become invisible as a standard action, as per Greater Invisibility, except the effect lasts until an intelligent creature successfully sees the Unnamed through any means (such as if it's outlined through Glitterdust or mundane dust, or viewed through True Seeing), until any creature ends its turn adjacent to the Unnamed (or vice-versa), or until the Unnamed ends the effect itself as an immediate or free action. It can only use its spell-like abilities while invisible using this ability.

Unwind (Ex): The Unnamed produces a powerful, hallucinogenic poison which it delivers with its bite and dart attacks. It may also produce a colorless, odorless version of the poison as an aura with a 30ft radius, affecting all creatures which inhale it, though they gain a +5 circumstance bonus to the save. It may begin producing this aura version of its poison as a full-round action and stop as a move action; its bite and dart attacks do not poison their targets while it's producing the aura, and it can only maintain the aura for a total of 7 rounds a day (they do not have to be consecutive).

--Unwinding Venom: Bite, dart, or aura--injury, contact, or inhaled; save Fort DC 24, frequency 1/round for 5 rounds, effect 1d3 Wis damage plus hallucinations for 1 round (all other creatures have 20% concealment), cure 2 consecutive saves.

[mystique-peach]

☼

Title: Dog Days - Book of Mythos (Chapter 2) ☼

Start of story = Previous Chapter = Link to Ao3 Mirror

Description:

It only takes two days for him to run into her again.

===

It only takes two days for him to run into her again.

It’s because he stops at this little drinking spot. It’s the sort of place humans (That is - The stationary ones, the ones that concern themselves with planting things) make for their travelers, far enough into the forest to provide rest, close enough to the road to be noticed. The small kind, that has food and booze and a firepit that always seems to be burning. He knows it’s a place he does not need to be invited into because they have signs indicating as much, cute little illustrations of food carefully painted on them. 

Not that needing to be invited into would have stopped him. Generally speaking, he finds human kindness to border on foolish when he plays his cards right, and human cruelty to be a worthwhile night of amusement when he plays them wrong. 

He wasn’t going to stop inside of it, originally. He wants to make good time on getting to the next spot, something he can only achieve by moving quickly. But the rain comes suddenly, and without warning. And despite himself, he had taken the sword-human's warning in mind. Rain made for real bad traveling in the safest regions of the world, let alone forests that were supposedly dangerous this time of year. And with clouds that are that dark, and the night getting so close, thunder and lightning tended to follow.

He doesn’t risk it. 

He takes the appearance of a woman. Not any woman in particular, but a design of his own making. 

Shapeshifting had always come second nature to him. Most of his type had to work hard for the skill, but he was always good at adding the little details that made his bodies feel lived in. That was the thing his type always forgot to do. They made their bodies too - Well. Too graceful. Too inhumane. Human’s had a knack for being able to pick up on the ethereal as suspicious, and the suspicious as uncanny. 

But he knew how to add the little knicks and calluses to make it look more natural. He knew where to add the little lines in their skin, how to make the nails more rough at the top and smooth at the bottom. He’d spent so long practicing and observing, and in many ways it now came second nature to him. He twists and warps his body into the pretty, soft faced kind of human he’d grown up seeing a lot of, because other humans always seemed to like that one more. Got less defensive around it. He doesn’t know if they know it’s a thing they do, but he’s good at picking up on those things.

Illusion work give him a bit more trouble.

He knows enough to be passable - Little tricks he liked to keep up his sleeve to make traveling easier, nothing he would consider particularly fantastic or intricate. Coins, mostly. Rings and precious stones, sometimes, when they saw no point in coins. He doesn’t know why they like them - Just that they do. He is not so good that it is effortless, nor so accomplished that he can produce it from air.  So he folds little leaves into squares and turns them over in his hand until they catch the light and look just right, holding them up and shifting them around to make sure he’s gotten the weight and feel of it right. Close enough, and “Close enough ” tends to be good enough for coins, even if he doesn’t get them entirely right.

The building is small. There’s a few sleeping spots set up around the fire. The bedframes are made for convenience rather than comfort,  made of a plain wood frame and leather base and low to the ground. The fire itself is probably forever burning, tended to with more care than Asa himself could ever plan for. There are logs lined up along the back wall, hiding the brickwork and wood-shuttered windows. Some kind of drying herbs hang from the rafters, though he isn’t familiar enough with the area to know what they are or what they could be used for. 

There’s only two humans here at the moment. Sitting close to the fire pit, there’s a girl. She’s on the younger end of things (He can tell by how small she is, and that's about it.) She has an instrument in her hand, and is plucking awkwardly at its strings in practice. She hums under her breath, following the notes of a song or hymn. It doesn’t sound good , but it also doesn’t sound bad enough to leave. 

The barmaid is an older woman who sits behind a small table, and works a bone needle through some yarn. She patiently knots it with unstable hands. Her chair is cushioned, and, like the beds, low to the ground. 

“Hello,” He says, in the politest greeting he knows. He asks, “Do you have space for the night?” Despite seeing the bare frames laid out around the fire. He’s found it’s not really smart to come in assuming these things.

She looks him up and down, as though appraising him. His clothing is foreign to them. He’d grabbed the clothing a long way away, when he;d been closer to home, and had managed to keep them safe (Threadbare, and a little dirty. But safe.) He’s not carrying a lot. He generally does not need to. He thinks that might be suspicious to them, in some way.

The woman then looks beyond him. She looks out toward the doorway. He is not suspiciously dry, but he is also not soaked as thoroughly as he perhaps should be. The little motions she’s doing to work the yarn slow, the otherwise absentminded actions pausing with her thoughts.

“Just one bed?” She asks.

“Just the one,” He says.

He moves to take a seat across from her. She has a few things stored under the table, so he has to keep his legs tucked close to him.

“... You’re traveling alone?” She asks, more bluntly, seemingly surprised. 

“Sure,” He says, and smiles at her. They always seem surprised by that. He doesn’t understand what is so suspicious about that, but he never stays around long enough to deal with the repercussions of that suspicion, “I take care of myself well enough,” He adds on, propping his chin on his hand.

She gives a small, “ Hm… ” And another look of appraisal. The kind of expression that tells him that she doesn’t entirely… like she’s about to give him a bed for the night.  But when he thumbs a few wet coins onto the table, she changes her mind. She holds it up to the light, suspicious of it. But the illusion holds up, and she eventually nods, setting it off to the side. 

“Do you need to board a horse as well?” She asks him.

“I only require food and a bed,” He assures, with a small raise of the hand.

They have wine. This doesn’t surprise him. Wine and Beer seemed to be the only kind of booze the humans in this area had, and many of them didn’t seem to like the beer. (He didn’t like either, minded. It was the taste of it all. But it was strong enough booze to still be worth drinking, especially on nights like this.) She gives him a cup that is less shallow than it looks at a glance, terracotta and adorned with embellishment. He turns it over, both curious and fond of the little trinket, much to the bemusement of the older woman serving him.

…

He hears her before he sees her, her footsteps heavy and entrance abrupt. 

Her entrance into the building is all but comedically timed, the door opening being followed by a flash of lightening and a roll of thunder. The music player spares her a far kinder glance than she’d been willing to him, familiar and warm.

His first observation, here and now, is that she feels marginally less threatening than she had the last time they’d met. With her weapons put away and her hair heavy with water, she looks a little smaller than she had. She takes the time to squeeze the water out of her hair with her hands in a half hearted attempt to dry herself off, but it’s something that doesn’t seem to be helping all that much. She has more layers on then she had when they’d first met, but even with the layer of fur over her shoulder her clothing is soaked through. Her shoes make this ugly squelching sound when she walks. Like her hair, she makes an honest attempt at wringing her clothing out in the doorway, but eventually seems to decide that there’s no point to trying any further. She sighs, like she’s only marginally inconvenienced by this, and mutters something under her breath that she’s too far away for him to properly hear. And then she looks up at him and she -

She stops, when she sees him. 

She goes still, like she’s been caught off guard by something. Then, her brows furrow, and her eyes narrow. And because she goes still, he goes still. That feeling of ease he’d originally felt upon her coming into the room passes over him in favor of an instinctual discomfort. It's the kind of feeling he gets when he stumbles across wolves or wild cats or big birds of prey. Ones that are hungry enough to hunt things that eat meat, and stupid enough not to sniff out his magic before they try it. 

He does not think she is stupid. It causes his hair to stick on end, and his fingers to twitch at his leg. 

And his first thought is, of course. There’s no fucking way she knows. His shapeshifting is precise and thorough. He casts no incorrect shadows on the walls, he keeps his ears and tails tucked away and fingers hidden behind his sleeves. Humans around here had no warning of his kind, and kept no precaution against him. And there were sometimes humans that could see through even that, but she hadn’t seem like the sort that could. She’d just seemed weird. 

Their gazes stick on one another, and he shifts the tension from his shoulders to his feet. He lifts a hand to greet her like a stranger would. Not unfriendly, but with notice. Her head sort of.. tilts at that. She finishes finger-combing her hair with a casualty that feels performative, straightening herself back up to her full height. She strips the fur from her shoulder, and places both it and her traveling pack on the bedframe closest to the fire. 

He turns his gaze away from her, not so quick as to draw suspicion. He feels the ghost sensation of his ears and tails curling and flicking. It’s an unpleasant sensation. He doesn’t like being aware of his own body. 

The human he’d given his coin to comes back into the room with a pitcher of wine. It is also terracotta. He wants to appreciate it like he did his cup, but the one with the sword is still staring at him, and it burns into his neck. As the older human pours his wine, she asks him something that he doesn’t catch entirely, but he thinks translates to, roughly, “What is the purpose of your travels?” 

Sword-lady stalks around the edges of the room, inching close enough to him to observe. 

He answers the closest thing to honest as he can, which is, “What else but pilgrimage ,” He raises his glass in thanks to her, before throwing back the first glass in its entirety and all at once.

When she is close enough that he can do-so with some amount of subtly, he spares sword-lady another glance. She takes a seat at one of the tables. He hadn’t paid much mind to them, pushed off to the sides of the room as they were. They’re close to the ground, but not so close that she sits on the floor with them. Instead, she folds herself into one of the cushioned chairs, and rests her feet up on the table. She crosses her arm over her chest, and stares at him with far less subtly than he’s granting her. Again, her head tilts.

He looks away again.

“Ah. You travel under the gods?” She asks him, and it seems to bring her some kind of ease. He does not. He makes a note in his head that the word pilgrimage might have a meaning he’s not entirely familiar with, but does not bother to correct her. Instead, he smiles at that. And she follows it up with, “You’ve come from far away, then?” 

“Further than you can imagine,” He says, lowly, like it’s a secret between them, “And I aim to go as far as I can.” 

This seems to amuse the older human, “And all on your own?”

“No . Under the gods,” He says, again, repeating it to appease her. 

Sword woman snorts. It grabs the older-humans attention. Asa wants another drink. 

“Ah! Laelia. Excuse me, I didn’t see you come in,” The older lady calls out. “ Laelia ” looks in the direction of the barmaid, raising a hand in greeting like Asa had to her. Then, she crosses her arms and looks back to him again. The woman, picking up on this, looks between the two of them and says, “A friend of yours, dear?”

Laelia, presumably, continues to appraise him.

“We’ve met before,” She says, eventually. She closes her eyes, tilting her head back as though she must put deep consideration into what to say next. It feels like an eternity before she speaks again, but he is aware that it is realistically a few seconds, "She is trouble, and it would do you well to treat her as such.” 

He feels every hair on his body bristle at the assessment of his character (Not incorrect, but hey. What the hell did she think she knew about his character?) The older human must take it as a joke. One that was lost on him, but a joke. She laughs.

“I will mind it,” She tells Laelia, and sits back in her chair. To give his hands something to do, he reaches out to grab the wine pitcher, “You should have said as much, dear. Here I was giving you trouble….” The woman trails off, shaking her head at him, and reaches for her needle and thread. Laelia speaks before he can.

“It’s as I said. She is trouble,” Laelia looks at him. He looks back at her. The immediate panic is beginning to wash away, more because Asa is beginning to suspect she has no interest in betraying her lie then any actual comfort he has in her presence. She sits up straighter, “She deserves no kindness for my sake.”

The older woman spits a sound close to bah , then says, “You are too reserved,” The woman says, waving her off. The woman clicks her tongue, “Hospitality. That is what you lack.”

“... You were the one that was going to kick her out,” Laelia shrugs. 

She goes back to looking at him.

…

Asa pours himself another drink.

Now that Laelia is here, the woman he’d been talking to doesn’t seem very interested in him. Laelia, in return, doesn’t seem very surprised to have the ladies' attention. The older-human works her in this hypnotic, even-paced way. He watches it in lieu of the two of them, because the practice fascinates him, and he’s trying to figure out how it’s done. He doesn’t have a needle to follow the motions himself, so instead his fingers twitch against the cup.

“Well. Since you’re here…“ The older one starts. She hesitates, “There’s been some trouble a little ways north… Ah. Up by the old travelers shrine. I’m sure you’d know the one.”

“I do,” Laelia says, not missing a beat.

“Right, right… A little was past it, just a little off the road. I’m sure you’d be able to find it.”

There is silence. The music has stopped, and so in the silence there is only rain, and the sound of the fire cracking.

Laelia says, “I would. What kind of trouble is it?” 

The woman works her thread. Asa is only now beginning to recognize the silence as tension, rather than a natural sort of lull in conversation that always seems to follow humans and how they speak. Laelia, on the other hand, seems to take the silence as an answer on its own. She sighs, heavier this time. She’s not irritated. He knows irritation on humans. She doesn’t even seem surprised. 

“I suppose it’s that time of year. Lots of trouble popping up in places it normally shouldn't,” She tells the woman. And he thinks to himself that he's probably the trouble she's talking about, considering everything else about this interaction. Finally breaking her gaze away from him, she looks to the doorway. He feels it when her gaze leaves him, a weight that just seems to shift off of him and to the air instead, “I plan on traveling in that direction. I can take care of it on my way out.”

“Thank you, dear.” She says, and her voice softens a shade. She puts her needle down, “I suppose I couldn’t offer you a drink for your troubles, then?”

Laelia does not consider the offer. 

She raises her hand and points at him.

“There is no need to trouble yourself. I will be sharing drinks with her tonight.”

“What?” Asa’s eyebrows furrow. He opens his mouth to tell her he is not interested - His own personal itinerary for the night was something closer to drinking in silence and sleeping until the worst of the thunder had passed. But Laelia stands. She’s still so waterlogged that she leaves wet footprints on the floor behind her when she moves, and he almost forgets her to be a threat.

But then she approaches him. She places a hand on his shoulder. Under its weight, he is silent.  

The coin that he’d given the human in exchange for a bed and wine is still sitting on the table between them. She’d never bothered to properly tuck it away. Laelia gives it the same look she’d given him. He knows, somehow, that she’s seeing past it, not unlike how she’s seen past him. She does not bring any awareness to the matter. Instead, she reaches out to gather the fake-coin in her hand and take it from the counter.

“My treat,” She says, and pats the spot her hand had been sitting, “Come on.”

And he thinks to himself, with more fascination than panic. 

Okay. So she knows.

Laelia grabs the pitcher of wine in its entirety, and gestures for him to follow him. He hesitates (He presumes that she’s less willing to kill him around people) but eventually follows (unwilling to test the accuracy of that presumption.) She sits herself by the fire, cross legged on the ground. They’re far enough from the older-human not to be heart. The human that had been playing music earlier had, at some point, rolled over to lay on the bed instead and the rain is loud enough against the roof and walls that it drowns out their voice at a mutter. He opens his mouth to speak, but she holds up her hand to stop him. She holds out her hand, as though expectant. It takes him a moment to realize she wants his cup. He places it in her hand, still half filled, and she drinks the remainder of it without a second thought.

“Okay,” She says. She pours herself another glass, “What are you.”

He gives her a blank look, “I’m a fox,” That felt pretty obvious. Maybe she was stupid.

She gives him another weird look. He sort of prefers when her expressions are unreadable, because the ones she gives him now are irritating him. It feels almost patronizing. 

“ Just a fox, ” She scoffs, so low he almost misses it. She goes to take another drink from the cup. This time, she doesn’t take her eyes off of him as she drinks. She holds the cup a bit oddly, by the lip of it rather than by the handle. Her wrist is crooked, keeping her hand away from her eyes. Then, looking a little baffled, she lowers the glass, “... You’re not lying.”

It’s not a question. More musing, above all else. 

“Honesty ain’t in my nature,” He assures her, proudly. He slips into his own tongue for it, more comfortable, and she doesn’t miss a beat, “But about this? I’mma fox through and through.”

She places the cup down, closer to him then to herself. Understanding implicitly that it is an offer, he takes the cup carefully within his hands. He uses both hands to hold it and, after sparing her a glance, takes a large gulp of it. While he drinks, she considers. 

“Okay,” She says, as though she’s decided something. She holds her hand out for the cup. He gives it to her, not because he’s had his fill, but because she kind of scares him. She lifts the pitcher that she’d taken. Then, she proclaims, “I think I will be needing far more wine than this tonight.”

And then she drinks directly from the pitcher. 

….

They spend the next part of the night sharing their drink in silence. At some point, she reached over to grab the fire poker, and has alternated between tending to it with some amount of diligence, and stabbing it into the logs to keep it propped within reach. Fire does not make him wary, like it does other animals. He thinks it is, in many ways, his friend. 

“It’s unusual,” She tells him, once she’s another drink in. He opens his mouth to say something, but she cuts him off, “Not unheard of. But unusual.”

He wrinkles his nose. She’s being vague and enigmatic, and he’s under the impression that's on purpose. He leans forward to steal the pitcher from her. She’s drinking it faster than him, and he is on a personal mission to keep up with her. She’s bigger than him, but he sort of likes his chances here, “I thought human language was supp’sed to be more complicated than that.”

She takes it back from him, but only after he gets the chance to fill his cup, “What?” 

“Y’know,” He raises it to her, “Need more than a few words to have a conversation n’all’a that. Even I know that.”

At first, he thinks that very much might have been the wrong thing to say. She raises an eyebrow at him, her expression unreadable, but very much different then it had been when she’d been musing to herself. He does not, however, apologize for the audacity he has. He doesn’t like being left in the dark. Certainly not by strangers.

“Okay. I get it,” She places the pitcher at his side, “Your magic, I mean. Illusions and - What is that,” She pauses. Then, after a moment, reaches out to brush her finger against his hair, and then (as though to be sure) his jaw, pinching at the skin there. Her touch only lingers for a moment, not even so long that he has time to react. It kind of hurts, but he doesn’t think that's the goal. Then, under her breath, “Shapeshifting..?”

That’s what she’s confused about? He grins at her, all sharp toothed and big. And it is very much sharp toothed, “It’s my talent,” He says, with some amount of pride.

“You’re not bad at it,” She says. It’s neither with kindness or disdain - just observational, “It’s unusual,” She says again, annoying him. It must show on his face, because she raises a hand to stop him from speaking, and shakes her head, “For animals other than humans to be blessed with that gift.”

“I wasn’t blessed with it,” He says, feeling a little frustrated, “It’s mine .”

“It’s yours.” She repeats, considering it.

“It was the first thing I learned,” He says, like that should help at all. And he’s very proud of that, preening a little when he says it. Humans didn’t know how impressive it was. He didn’t even need anything to do it. He just could . 

“Hm…” She looks a little troubled. She looks down at the wine they’ve been drinking, already almost empty. She shrugs, “Stay here. I will grab more to drink.”

“And if I leave?” He asks, mostly to try and frustrate her.

She looks at him. Then, she looks absentmindedly towards the window, where the storm has worsened and the night has gotten darker. She says, with very little concern to her tone, “Then you simply would not be my problem anymore,” And walks to the back of the little house, a little too steady on her feet for one that has drunk as much as she has. 

He’s beginning to think he will not, in fact, out drink her. 

…

“Are you getting me drunk to loosen my lips?” He asks her, when she returns with the pitcher fuller than it had been the first time. He holds his hand out to take it from her, and she shakes her head.

“I’m under the impression you like to hear yourself speak regardless,” she says, with this kind of… unimpressed air about her. 

He says, “It’s practice. I don’t get to talk to people all’a that often.”

She holds her hand out for the cup again. Begrudgingly, he hands it off to her. She takes the time to pour herself another glass, the pitcher so full that she has to place the cup on the ground and balance it with both hands. She takes a sip of it herself. Pauses, while looking him in the eye. And then, content with that, returns the glass to him. 

She places the pitcher at his side. 

“Listen,” She tells him, and there’s a shift in her tone. She speaks like she’s wary of the topic she’s about to approach, or maybe wary of giving him the information that she’s about to. But she braces herself, “Around here, there are only three things that have your gift. Spirits, gods, and those blessed by the gods. And - You’ll have to excuse my wariness. But I know you’re none of the three,” She raises a hand, and with each word, counts it out, “At least, none I would be familiar with. I don't like that. I would like to find one of the three to fit you into.”

“I did say I come from far away,” He rubs his eyes. There’s a roll of thunder overhead, low and heavy. It makes him uneasy.

“You did.” She agrees.

"Maybe you should make another category," He says, shrugging, "I can be the first one in it."

"I'll consider it," She says, like that's not at all something she will be doing, “... What else can you do?”

The answer is, of course. Quite a few things. He’d been around long enough to have three tails. Not that she’d know the importance of that, but it was long enough to have picked up on a few things here and there. 

But he also likes to keep his tricks up his sleeve. Especially against humans that dealt with swords and carried themselves with the sort of wariness that came with predators ready for an attack. He thinks, if she decides to turn on him and lay her blade in his direction, he wants as many tricks on his person as he can.

He frowns, and answers honestly, “I don’t really want to answer that.”

He prepares for her to push it. People that knew how to look past his illusions and his shapeshifting always did try and push it. Because people, like him, were wary of what they didn’t know. It only made sense to be. 

But she doesn’t. She nods, a little stiff and with narrow eyes, but a nod nonetheless.

“I suppose that makes sense,” She says.

And it’s as easy as that. 

Having decided he’s had his fill of wine, he pushes both the cup and the pitcher towards her, and goes to lay on his side. She takes it from him. Seemingly having had enough for herself, she places the cup atop the pitcher like a cap, and moves it away from the both of them. As he moves to lay on his side, he says, “Y’know. You’ve been talkin’ a lot at me. I got a few questions ‘fer you as well.”

She seems surprised. Like this is at all an unfair thing for him to be pointing out. Her surprise shifts, confusion, then amusement. She makes an attempt to hide her amusement, her hand coming up to hide her lips. But he sees it in her eyes. Human eyes always revealed a lot like that, “That would be fair.”

He nods, “Yeah. So how’d you know it was me?” He asks.

“Intuition,” She says, immediately. This does not sound like a lie to him, but logic and reason are telling him it’s not an entire truth, either. He sees no reason not to call her on it. So he does.

“Bullshit,” He says, jabbing a finger at her, “My shapeshifting is - It’s flawless. Intuition my ass. You’re lying to me. Like a liar does. You can’t lie to me when I answered all’a your questions.”

She laughs. It’s so soft he doesn’t hear it, but he sees it in the way her shoulders shift, and the way her lips twitch through her fingers, “… Well. It’s something like intuition, at least,” She says, a little more vague. But there’s more honesty in that vagueness. She follows it up with, “Consider it a gift of my own. Like your shapeshifting.”

“Hm…” He tilts his head. But, if he doesn't want to give her the directory of his own self defense, he supposed he wasn't in a position to ask the same of her. Not any of his business, in the same way his own was not hers. But, because what she can do does make him a little unease, he asks her, “... Are there any other humans like you?”

She grabs the poker. 

“None that you’re likely to encounter.”

Enlightening. 

His eyes drift over to the fire, where little fly-aways spark up and around the pit. It occurs to him that he probably should have gotten something in his stomach by now, but the booze has him so tired that he does not care to fix that. It was something that would have to be tomorrows issue. 

“One more question,” She says, "You know my name. It is only fair I have yours?" 

He does not want to do that, either. 

"I'll tell you eventually," He says, waving her off, "If it's important."

And that night, she doesn't ask him anything more.

=> Next Chapter

[pillow-anime-talk]

dating them.

synopsis: Some sweet, funny and also crazy moments in your relationship.

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; romance; mild comedy; fluff; PDA; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. reki kyan, langa hasegawa, miya chinen, kaoru sakurayashiki & kojirou nanjou {sk8}

author’s note: so... i’m just in love with this anime...

— REKI

↘ He’s such a precious boy who cheers you up in the blink of an eye; I think he has an extra sense, so he knows when you feel worse than usual or when you are in even the slightest pain (for example, you bumped your elbow or you haven’t eaten breakfast before ‘cause you missed your alarm clock and therefore you have a stomachache).

↘ Reki is a supportive lover; whether you are passionate about singing, learning languages, reading manga, sewing mascots or painting, a seventeen-year-old will always be right next to you to praise what you do or the way you look. He will notice every, even stupid detail about you and mention it immediately when you’re going to hang out. He’s definitely your fan and doesn’t hide it. Additionally, if you introduce him to what you love, he will also get interested in it in a way and then he will come to you to show off what he has done like a sketch of the two of you or an opinion about the anime you recommended him three days ago.

↘ The boy is really devoted to you and loves physical contact; grabbing a hand, kissing on the cheek or forehead, cute texts in the morning it’s something totally normal for the two of you. I also think that Reki could melt if you run your fingers through his soft hair or make small braids for him, decorating his head with a few colored hairpins or hairbands.

↘ If you know how to skateboarding, he will be delighted and your dates will mostly be about riding together or learning new tricks. Plus, it’s another thing Reki loves about you and wow. He’s even bigger fanboy than before!

↘ However, if you have never ridden or even tried to do it, it doesn’t matter. A teen will be happy to be able to offer you some private lessons if you wish. Again, red-haired adores physical contact, so holding your hands/waist while you stand on his beloved skateboard will be a dream come true for him.

↘ He always has ticket for you, so you make a new banner for each race to support him. Hit me, but I’m 120% sure that after race (whether he won or lost it) he takes your pretty banners and hides them in this special box that has its place on his bedroom closet.

↘ Overall, Reki is a boy who fits to the definition of high school, first love.

— LANGA

↘ Your relationship is a bit more peaceful, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t a bit of humor or abstraction.

↘ Langa loves your company so, so, so badly; Reki is quite hot-tempered and is literally everywhere, so when the two of you hang out together after school or at the weekend, blue-haired feels that he can breathe and relax every muscle in his body. You’re his comfort person, and your room is a safe place without fear and noise.

↘ He also enjoys physical contact, but much more prefers to show affection in private, for example in your home or in his own bedroom.

↘ His favorite type of PDA is cuddling; he prefers to be a big spoon and hug you from behind, but he has no problem hugging against your chest or warm stomach, especially when he feels down because of school or racing.

↘ I have a strange feeling that Langa is the type of romantic who would make an amazing Spotify playlist for the two of you so you could listen to the songs, cuddling each other in the bed.

↘ If you can skateboard that’s great! For sure you, Langa and Reki will be a good trio that will meet often in the skate park or in ‘S’. I’m also pretty sure he’ll cheer for you, but at the same time he’ll be very cute with it and definitely more calm than his bestie. For example, if you do a trick... you’ll get a quick kiss on the nose or Langa will buy you your favorite drink. He definitely likes to pamper you.

↘ If you don’t know how to skateboard but you really want to start skateboarding to share your lover’s passion... Well, he will definitely give you a short (long) monologue about how dangerous it is, and you need to be careful – because he knows best of all how a fall on butt or face hurts.

↘ He always keeps a tiny set of colored plasters in his jacket or pants pocket to take care of you in the case of an unexpected accident, as Reki used to care for him.

↘ He’s a good teacher, but he will definitely need to calm his emotions, because sometimes instead of showing you how to slide down the railing, he will suggest something more down-to-earth, like going to the cinema to watch the movie you mentioned three days ago.

— MIYA

↘ Ahh, my precious smol baby.

↘ You are Miya’s first partner, so he still thinks that he’s not good enough for you, although you always reassure him with a light peck on the nose that he’s the best thing that has happened to you and that you’re very glad that you can be with him in every good and bad moment.

↘ The teenager is terribly shy about any physical contact outside, so if you aren’t at home, don’t expect a ton of hugs or kisses from him. He much prefers when you two are alone – then he doesn’t feel overwhelmed by the gazes of other people, especially other skaters who like to make fun of him. 

↘ I swear I’ll bite and beat them all...

↘ Miya is a delicate soul and he really likes to feel that someone look after him, so in a relationship he definitely prefers when you cares for him. For example; just touch his soft hair, ask about his well-being or when he will have a race and a huge smile will appear on his face.

↘ I think if he feels that you are the only one for him... Maybe he will lend you his favorite hoodie with cat ears and tail? He’ll be overjoyed to see that you feel good in it. You look extremely cute, but he’ll never admit it. 

↘ It smells like him, like wet earth and a hint of sweet perfume, and although it’s a strange combination, it feels really beautiful, downright safe and homey.

↘ For the next holiday (your birthday, your anniversary, Valentine’s Day or Christmas), he will give you a sweatshirt that matches to his own. It will be in your favorite color and will also have an animal accessory, not necessarily catish, because if you prefer dogs, rabbits or cows... You know, there are many options.

↘ If you know how to skateboard, he will be really calm and will feel that finally someone will want to spend time with him, training and riding together; not like in childhood when everyone turned away from him. He will definitely be moved when you grab his smooth hand and offer a long ride in the park. He definitely loves praise, so give him praise every now and then when he does a nice trick. He will also compliment you more than once and even give you a kiss on the cheek (of course if nobody is watching!). He’s not good at words, but he tries!

↘ If you don’t know how to skateboard... He may be a bit skeptical, but naturally he’ll agree to a few lessons in front of your or his house. Of course you originally just wanted to be close to him and hold his hand more often than usual, but it turned out to be pretty fun! Now, training is your typical dates.

↘ Miya is a sweet boy and although he may not look like that, he’s really protective, often jealous and always puts you at first place.

— KAORU

↘ This beautiful man, this angel-looking ideal, this ahhhh... Being in a relationship with him is pure pleasure and daily healing for the soul.

↘ He’s a calm, understanding and loving partner. I think he’s a bit old fashioned but that only adds much more charm to his person.

↘ He often calls you his ‘dearest’, ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’, isn’t that cute?

↘ You two don’t go out on dates too often, but I think Kaoru loves to spend time at home, having tea or on the couch while one of you is reading a book and the other is listening to music or just sleeping. He definitely doesn’t look like that, but he loves PDA/cuddling and is the best at it!

↘ He also likes it when you suggest learning calligraphy together. He never forced you to do this, but when he first heard that you would like to meet one of his passions, he was really happy and immediately showed you how to write with ink on the special paper he had in his flat. Obviously, more than once you ask him to write a simple letter or word, because you just love his handwriting and how focused he seems. He’s really hot then, I swear to god!

↘ You love his long hair and are always eager to give him a new, nice hairstyle; normal braid or fishtail braid. Maybe a bun or a ponytail with a few hairpins? He loves everything you do on him. In addition, the gentle head massage you give him each time is the most soothing thing in the world for him.

↘ If you know how to skating... He’s really surprised, but that doesn’t mean he’s unhappy or angry. He wants to see what you can do right away and you will surely feel a sweet kiss on your forehead more than once when the trick will be good or even better than you both thought. He’s a supportive boy, but doesn’t show it as vehemently as Reki, for example; he prefers to smile at you or clap softly.

↘ If you don’t know how to skate yet, but you asked him to teach you how to even stand on it... I imagine Kaoru going pale and trying to distract you from this idea because, as an experienced skater, he’s afraid that you will hurt yourself like any beginner. But your big eyes and ruddy cheeks are his weaknesses, so he’ll trust both you and Carla and help you keep your balance on his beloved, black-violet board. Reward him later with quick kisses or give him his favorites, okay?

↘ To sum up, Kaoru is a good and honest lover. He definitely loves your company and won’t mind spending his free time seriously and frivolously with you.

— KOJIROU

↘ This guy is the definition of the sentence ‘Through the stomach to the heart’. Any objections? No. So let’s gooooo!

↘ Kojirou is a PERFECT second half. Both in character and appearance. If he fall in love with someone seriously, and it will be you, then know that he’ll care for you like about a member of the royal family; breakfasts in bed, an Italian supper, the perfect choice of wine for a chicken or steak are things that have become a sweet daily thing for you at some point.

↘ He loves to show you affection and absolutely has no problem doing it in public, even when he’s working or when you two are in a tight crowd on the train or in the ‘S’ before his race. He will kiss you hard on the lips, grab your skin on your butt or hug your waist. It’s just that everyone needs to know that you belong to him. He’s just as clingy as Reki, and sometimes even worse and bolder.

↘ Of course he has cute side; he likes to lie on the bed or the sofa with you on his chest. He loves being between your thighs and sleep there. He definitely has a weak point in that when you you run your finger on his tattoo or cook dinner with him, throwing ingredients at him and laughing out loud.

↘ Another romantic who uses thousands of pet names (like babey, cutie, doll, pumpkin, kitten). Plus, he loves to dance with you in the kitchen and steal a few kisses here and there. Also, if you aren’t looking, he likes to surprise you with a big, bear hug.

↘ I think he’s a bit impatient, so he doesn’t like to sit at home and prefers dates in crazy places (such as an amusement park, swimming pool, karaoke bar) – it’s his favorite way of spending your time together. As a gentleman, he always pays for you, unless you go faster and bring your ATM card to the card reader as first. But don’t be surprised when Kojirou will just buy you cotton candy or popcorn shortly afterwards.

↘ If you know how to skateboard, he’s as excited as a kid and will definitely offer you a date at the skate park. Naturally, he wants to show off to others what a super cool partner he has, but he also wants others to know that you’re here together to kick everyone’s asses with your abilities. You’re definitely a powerful couple and you have the matching necklaces!

↘ But if you don’t know how to skating then... well, well, well. Just be prepared that one day (without even asking for it) you’ll stand on his beloved board and he will grab your hips, smiling silly. He enjoy skin ship so this guy feels utopian when he can be near you. He definitely won’t spare you compliments, long pecks, and smack your butt when you do something great, so you have to get used to it... and it’s going to be a long training session, so good luck, my friend.

↘ He’s a funny guy, but he’ll never cross your limits, so don’t worry about that. However, he will always find a topic for conversation or a joke to relax the atmosphere or cheer you up. You will never be bored with him.

[husbandohunter]

What they love about you (part 1) [Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: It was as if the universe had changed when they saw you.

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Venti x female reader

Part 2 here

(A/n): Okay okay I know I have some requests yet I decided to write something super indulgent. I'M SORRY! This past week I've just been writing so much angst *looks at inbox* AND MORE ANGST TO COME I really need that dose of Vitamin F(luff) 😭

===========================

Noctua's Heartbeat (Diluc)

For a man who had the whole world in the palm of his hand

With looks, fame and all the wealth he could demand

But what stole away his breath was something not to be bought

For it was merely the calming presence of your living and beating heart.

Your heart was a dignity born for empathy, so beautiful and magnificent with the kind of charm similar to white Cecilias blooming across Mondstadt's fields. Diluc would watch from afar, admiring their glow. It shines without reservation, blissfully unaware to a fault that he couldn't help but feel afraid knowing how the real world would simply pluck you from your roots and shape you in the way they wanted to. People who were tainted souls with tainted soles roaming from the shadows, constantly trampling on other's beliefs before leaving them to rot.

Ah but of course, Cecilias are wildflowers. No matter how many times they were stepped on, they could still withsand any force nature throws at them. Whether it'd be raging storms or scorching heat from the summer sky, you were the same through it all. Love. You were in love. You were in love with the wind, you were in love with people, you were in love with the world and everything that lives in it.

And so, Diluc wonders if that was the reason why everything suddenly began to shimmer.

He treaded on a path fated for loneliness while longing for the dawn to appear out of the night horizon-- where emotions once frozen until you came in to melt the ice. He blocked his heart but you tore down those walls. Diluc swore to never feel if it meant protecting himself and yet you held onto his shattered pieces tenderly, dearly, blowing the love of life and teaching it how to beat again.

Your heart was like a fountain of all the hopes he abandoned years ago and the dreams that no one had the courage to envision, cleansing everything within it's reach and freshening them anew. You were a being so in tune with your emotions that it sang through all that you did, laughing despite your obstacles and shedding tears when overjoyed, a single drop it was but still held the depth of the entire ocean. Diluc vows to protect you for your heartbeat was also his own. He'll gladly lay down his life because losing you deemed far worse than any death he could imagine.

~xx~

The other eye of Pavo Ocellus (Kaeya)

The knight's shining armour serves only as a disguise

When beauty from the surface is one's own demise

He used it to protect himself, decorating his words with pretty lies

But unmatched when facing against your truthful eyes.

They say the eye was an open window to a person's true colours. If that were the case then the painting inside him must have been an unsightly one.

Every once in a while the people of Mondstadt would speak about their Cavalry Captain's eyepatch, whether he was injured after being sent out on a mission or if he wears it for the sake of image. No one knows, it was rather unsettling, why someone would cover their eye despite not being injured. Secrets? Perhaps. Kaeya was known to be a man shrouded in mystery after all.

Your gaze was his Death After Noon. Sparkling upon the surface yet with the tasteful allure so captivating that it was almost dangerous. Just one glance and he was intoxicated, eventually leading to a slip of the tongue, revealing what was buried deep within his contaminated essence. Kaeya hated that you had the uncanny ability to see through his mask. Your innocence so contrasting, he felt like looking into a mirror, reminding just how much of an ugly person he truly was in comparison.

But mirrors are easy to break, no?

The thought delivers a sinister smile on his face. Pitiful-- is the state where you were. Pitiful-- it's what he is. How could he think of such things when all you offered was kindness? Unlike Kaeya, you were an honest person, always wearing your emotions on your sleeve and unaware of the devil's vicinity. He was tempted by the invite to crush you and run away like the coward he was meant to be. However as he stares deeply into your eyes he realized they weren't made of glass. They were gems. The most precious gems hardened by the pressures of experience.

In the shine of thine eyes resides the stars and the moon as if stolen from the Abyss, leading to the edges of the universe that was blessed within your mind. The look of curiosity filled with rich hues all held by a soulful stare while they pierced through the armour shaped around his heart. It was your ability to recognize beauty amongst the most wretched of things that he fell so hopelessly in love with you because for the first time someone had seen him-- his flaws and his faults, his abyss painted darker than black but loved him despite it all. As he drowns himself in the world of your gaze, Kaeya prays to never be the one who will steal away those stars or moon because they looked the most beautiful on you.

~xx~

The Winged Nemesis who flew towards the Sun (Xiao)

He looks at your face as if he saw spring for the first time

An unsual encounter, wondering how could something be so sublime

The yaksha stands upon the corpses while reaching for the sky

Seeing the sun in your smile that he wishes to fly

Xiao has dealt with the cards of death and won through many of it's games. But his life was a gamble as the karmic binds may one day bring the same fate that was done upon his comrades-- insanity, murder and corruption. So he swears an oath to his god and himself, ensuring the darkness only he could bear does not seep into the light.

A gust of wind sways in when you pass by, he was struck by pensive bewilderment because happiness was a feeling unknown to him. It was the expression you made whenever you greeted him good morning. The complexion you had while charging through life's challenges. And the face you wore even during the times where there was no reason to smile. Xiao has felt the might of the sun for her light will never be exstinguished by his darkness, he could only succumb to it.

But you were not just the sun, you were the flowers that bloomed beneath her heavenly sky and the birds that chirped upon those earth-like trees. You were a whole new world he didn't dare to touch because dreams were delicate and his cursed self would only devour them until nothing was left. Still, the mighty sun shines through it all, stretching out her rays like a welcoming embrace until the universe had been revitalized, giving birth to new life after winter's storm.

If pictures told a thousand words then he had a thousand reasons and more to love you. Xiao witnessed the sweetest joy decorated by pink petal blossoms dancing around him, the one who pulled him out of his spiraling trance of darkness. The breath he takes no longer felt suffocating and instead was replaced by the smell of nature's greatest gifts: you. Stay away, he says, because there were times where you shone so brightly that he had to look elsewhere. Your rays burned him and he thinks it might drill holes into his wings. Painful it may be but if the splendor of spring could only be admired after the harsh cold snow, then maybe pain and love were only two sides of the same coin.

A world without the sun--such unfathomable thoughts--is a death he does not wish to deal with.

~xx~

A song she sings for the God of Wind (Venti)

Man lives by the power of the tongue,

Whatever Man speaks is aligned with Man's choice.

Hearken when she talks for her words are to be sung,

Because not only was she lovely but so was her voice.

-Venti

There were many reasons why Venti loved music. The freedom to express oneself when words weren't enough, allowing one's spirit to flow out of their mouth and be with the wind. It was the feeling he had when he listened to you because your voice was sweeter than any song he sang or played.

When you speak it was as if the world around you danced, bringing them to the mercy of your stage. Like standing upon the soft grass while letting the sparks of dandelions dust against his own skin, Venti would close his eyes as he hears you speak-- it was you, just you and that was all he needed. He swears that no one in the world could sound as living as you did because it was the words you say that stole his heart away.

The vibration in your tone was fleshed with kindness yet so sure and firm to the point it could even bring a god to his knees. If he were a sailor then you were the siren, enchanting him with your bell-like voice and bringing him to a territory where he can never escape from. It was the spell of your divine song, his Carmen Dei, that tricked the trickster. Venti did not mind as long as he was able to feel the blessing amongst his ears.

[nagipops]

hii I love your blogs sooo much you're really talented (I just needed to say it sorry) so straight to the point, I already made 2 requests to you and I really enjoyed your writing so I would like to make another again. As I'm clueless about what to request I'll just ask for random hcs for konoha 11, idk if it's too much but if so then you can do with Neji (I love him so much), Kakashi and Naruto. Thank you in advance and sorry anything ^^

RANDOM KONOHA 11 HEADCANONS!

FEATURING: naruto, sakura, shikamaru, ino, choji, neji, rock lee, tenten, kiba, hinata, and shino

WARNINGS: mentions alcohol, drugs, food, bugs, and the tiniest nsfw mention if you get the joke. hehe

A/N: AHHHH ANONN this seriously made my day, im so so glad you enjoy my work!! 💖

NARUTO

you know how we all have “the chair”, where we throw all of our dirty clothes onto?

yeah, imagine that, but from the seat to the fricking ceiling

its just a GINORMOUS MOUND of clothes, you wonder how he even goes through that many clothes so quickly???

definitely shoves it under his bed whenever guests come over (somehow)

holds chopsticks really weirdly. but it works.

asked tenten to put his hair into space buns to mimic his sexy jutsu and went around flirting with the village

jiraiya was so proud of him T-T

comes up with the WORST pickup lines

they’re so bad, its almost charming. almost

has gone AWOL multiple times, disappearing from everywhere, just everywhere

it scared you a little, so you searched the entire village for him

you finally found him sitting on the ledge of a cliff, gazing out at the vast sea

concerned and panicked, you cried out to ask him what was wrong

he turned to you with a crestfallen, devastated look on his face and said,

“i bought shrimp ramen instead of chicken ramen.”

you’ve never searched for him after his disappearance ever again.

SAKURA

100% makes origami shurikens and chucks them at you

they are deathly precise and deathly sharp. seriously, how are these not illegal weapons yet???

writes threatening motivational notes to herself on the mirror

“u got this!” “make sure to smack naruto today!” “ino sucks!”

her backpack would always be way too high up on her back. idk why but. it would

does her hair all nice and pretty before she goes out but once she arrives to her destination SHE KEEP. TAKING. IT OUT. and redoing it over and over and over again

like it’s impossible to make eye contact with her because she’s holding a bobby pin between her teeth while braiding her hair

her guilty pleasure would be hostess treats

ding dongs are her favorite. don’t ask me how i know, i just know.

eats the yellow starbursts just to spite naruto and all her haters

loves small lap dogs, she think’s they’re so cute and cuddly

but she especially loves chihuahuas

they’re so feisty and naruto HATES them, so of course she had to go and get one for herself

dresses the poor dog up in little bonnets and jackets and ties its tiny fuzzy hairs into pigtails

she and the chihuahua are not that much unlike <3

SHIKAMARU

this man is a god at shogi but he absolutely SUCKSSSS at cup pong.

is this an ick? idk. but he is absolute trash at this game.

it gets even worse when he’s got a couple drinks in him

tries to calculate the velocity and acceleration and angle and shit but his shot is always a good two feet off BYE 😭

just mutters an “aw, shit” before awaiting his turn again

hates checkers, loves chess

“checkers is for WUSSIES” - shikamaru nara

i said this in another post, but he is Very Good at whistling

like that’s his hidden talent

can copy any tune with the perfect pitch and rhythm

speaking of, he can do really cool tricks with his tongue

like making a four leaf clover, touching the bridge of his nose with it, flipping it upside down, you name it

he has slanted, scrawled handwriting, to the point where it’s almost illegible

wbk he cheats in school SO OFTEN. but he never gets caught. he’s not stupid, he just couldn’t care less about his classes.

thinks weed and e-cigs are stupid, cigarettes are where it’s at

you just can’t replicate the feeling of taking a drag from a cig after a long, tiring day

plus he looks hella cool while doing it B)

INO

teaches the boyz™️ how to braid their hair

like they all gather in a circle around this feisty fashionista and fail attempt to braid their hair

sakura was just fuming in the sidelines

“OI, INO-PIG, THAT’S A DUTCH BRAID, NOT A FRENCH BRAID!!”

yeah, ino 🙄

the only one that can actually do it is neji because a) this man is talented af and b) he’s got the long hairrr

ino probably envies his thick, sleek hair because hE’S a bOy

also asks everyone for their blood type and zodiac signs and tells them if they’re compatible with her or not

and definitely judges you for your sign 😣

“oh, you’re a gemini? hmm, what a shame...”

makes bouquets for her favorite people and kin assigns everyone a flower

only assigns the pretty nice ones to the people she likes (sorry sakura, you’re out of luck)

one of her favorite hobbies is crafting! she’s really good with details and small things so she loves making those miniature dollhouses and stuff

also really good at watercoloring. especially painting flowers and landscapes

also i feel like she would be really good at playing any instrument because of her skilled hands

can play a badass flute solo. period.

CHOJI

would honestly rather die than get anywhere NEAR an asparagus

he just thinks they’re so gross and bitter and NOT SALTY

he always eats his yakiniku a little bit undercooked because he’s way too impatient to wait for it to cook fully. who do you think he is??

whenever he cloud gazes with shikamaru, when asked what he thinks a cloud looks like, he just says some sort of food

“oi, choji, what does that one look like to you?”

“a... yakiniku grill... with... pineapple rings on it! ooh, and a wagyu steak right there!”

he thinks pringles are an abomination to society. where’s the crisp? where’s the grease? where’s the saltiness?!!!

asks ino to teach him how to do his hair all fancy and the two of them devote an entire day learning different hairstyles

it’s his new favorite thing to do now :D

he really likes crayons!!!!

like he’ll write with them, draw with them, color with them, do everything with them

he’s even tried to eat them. he said they tasted good.

definitely had the 128 crayon pack WITH THE BUILT-IN SHARPENER, and everyone thought he was the coolest kid in town

he ate it UP, he even scored some bbq dates with the ladies

i also feel like he loves basketball, and he has a MEAN slam dunk

like his vertical isn’t that high, but the man can REACH

he loves when people laugh at him when he challenges them to a 1v1 and then proceeds to absolutely destroy them <3

NEJI

he seems like a cucumber kind of guy.

just cucumber

like i feel like he puts it in everything; soba, salads, sandwiches, his face, yeah

it’s mellow and cool, just like him!

speaking of, i feel like he lives for spa days and facials

it just lets him be alone in his little cucumber scented world for an hour or two and he gets damn clear skin from it as well

seriously he has PERFECT skin. flawless. not a single blemish. his cheeks feel like baby butts they’re so smooth.

i feel like he’d be a god at solving rubik’s cubes, don’t ask me why

like if anyone scrambled theirs on accident they would just take it to neji and he’d solve it in the blink of an eye

CAT PERSON!!! loves the little meow meows

who are we kidding, neji basically is a cat; agile, aloof, does silly things without trying to, very cute

he just feels akin to the little fuzzballs and he thinks petting cats are extremely therapeutic. good for the soul

he is a golf man. he would take his juniors golfing and everyone thinks he’s uncool. cmon neji let them go to the skate park at least T-T

also very good at karaoke, definitely surprised everyone once he got a few drinks in him since he started serenading you

LIGHTWEIGHT!!! do not get more than one shot of alcohol in him. he will go berserk.

i also feel like he’d really love photography; not taking pictures of people, but of nature

he loves taking a quiet stroll through a pretty forest and snapping pictures of all the unique flora and fauna

it’s so serene ︶ ‿ ︶

ROCK LEE

100% milly rocks everywhere

gai got in on it too once he asked what lee was doing

“is that what all the youthful cool kids do these days!”

they also dab together. a lot

DO NOT BE SEEN WITH THESE TWO!!! you are not associated with them.

definitely is the one breakdancing in the middle of the dance circle at a high school party

he’s mad skilled at it too

headspins and windmills galore

challenged naruto to a dance-off and completely OBLITERATED him

lee then asked if naruto wanted a rematch, this time with one hand tied behind lee’s back

naruto obliged, and he STILL lost

RIP naruto and his fangirls, they all scrambled to lee afterwards T-T

i feel like his favorite subject is science

not the boring physics equations and laws and theories but the fun EXPERIMENTS

definitely has singed all of his hair off one time and he went to gai blubbering to help him grow back his precious hair

but he loves experimenting with different combinations and chemicals to get different reactions each time

created a potent love potion and carried it around with him all day one day

and it was actually working

girls were flocking to him left and right, staring at his lips and his face

he was so abashed at the sudden attention

heck, it even worked on sakura

“oi, lee-san!”

“hehe, yes, sakura-san?”

her eyes shifted downwards to his lips and his heart thumped harder

“hey... lee-san?”

“what is it?”

“you have something on your lip. we’ve been trying to tell you all day but you just winked and blew kisses at us.”

legend has it lee has still not recovered to this day.

TENTEN

has THE prettiest handwriting. and she can write SUPER fast

it’s like a superpower

like she transcribed five pages of a report in less than two minutes with perfect handwriting

naruto is so jealous.

she is also super good at origami! those diligent, accurate hands aren’t just for throwing things

taught sakura how to make shurikens but does NOT endorse any violent uses of them

she can replicate all of her weapons with paper and they can actually function, it’s so cool

made paper kunai knives one day and the wholeee village wanted to get their hands on them

i feel like she’d listen to mitski. idk i just get those vibes

LOVES BIG DOGS!! especially fluffy wuffy samoyeds

like man’s best friend?? no, GIRL’S BEST FRIEND!!

hugs and cuddles and squishes all the big dogs

she thinks small dogs are spawns of satan

sakura and her have definitely quarreled over this

but at the end of the day, all dogs are adorable fur babies, so she lets it slide :,)

KIBA

kiba always looks SO GOOD in photos you take of him, candid or not

like you could just whip out a camera and snap a photo of him at any given moment and he would look perfect

you framed a picture of him yelling at akamaru for peeing inside the house

it’s pure artwork

i feel like he tries to swagger around with his hands shoved in his pockets but it fails MISERABLY and the girls are wondering if he broke his leg or something 😭

kiba just walk normally. for the love of god please just walk normally.

he tries to slump back in his chair really low but one time he slouched way too low so he slipped off of his chair and onto the ground LMFAOOOO

he just wallowed there... in shame...

also.. he LOVES when the girls put makeup on him!!

he tries to act like he hates it. but it secretly gives him so much confidence

not to mention the girls hyping him up are a huge ego boost

okay the inside of his jacket hood is the warmest. thing. EVER!!!

seriously, no wonder this dude is so happy-go-lucky all the time, he’s living in literal heaven 24/7

it’s like you’re sleeping on a cloud inside a warm, cozy bed during a cold winter morning

10/10 would recommend letting him give you his sweatshirt when you’re chillin with a hair tie ❤️

HINATA

always smells like lavender soap. always

also has the cutest pencil pouches with little puppy faces and kawaii things

oH and she has those mini yoobi highlighters, she thinks they’re so cute (and functional!)

everyone flocks to her to try them out and marvel at the cute tiny highlighters

and they try to steal them from her but she doesn’t even stop them because she’s too timid to 😭

naruto goes BALLISTIC over them

she lets him have all of them <3

tennis girl!!! tennis girl.

all of her opponents always underestimate her because she’s so timid and shy and quiet

but she has a KILLER serve

and then she takes her opponents to the slaughterhouse with a complete shutout ;)

she’s really athletic believe it or not, she can beat most of the boys in a mile run and she has incredible endurance

i feel like she really loves velvet scrunchies

she just thinks they’re so pretty and they keep her hair soft so they’re cute and functional

also takes the PRETTIEST notes!!

color codes, dividers, headers, you name it, it’s all super readable too its insane

everyone asks her for her notes, not to study but just to appreciate the pure artwork that it is ^w^

SHINO

shino is SO easy to prank

“how do you catch an eyemaster?” *cue naruto and kiba snickering*

“eyemaster bait. that is because—”

even when everyone’s laughing their asses off, he still continues to explain his answer since he does NOT GET THE JOKE

tried his hand at writing haikus

here’s his best one so far:

“Bugs are amazing. That is because they are bugs. Bugs are very nice.” - Shino Aburame

VERY proud of it, since it took him weeks to perfect

praise it, pls

had one of those ant farms and bug-catching kits as a kid

and he would fill the kit TO THE BRIM. LIKE IT WAS HEAVY BECAUSE THERE WERE SO MANY BUGS.

he loves the little chitters of the different bugs

he had jars of different bugs all lined up on a wall shelf in his room

collects silkworms off of trees and sticks them into his pockets (no i definitely did not do this as a kid...)

HELP I FEEL LIKE he would record a timelapse of his ant farm growing and upload it to youtube with a movie maker title screen that says

“my ants”

if you enjoyed this post, likes and reblogs are much appreciated :) feel free to request here, and make sure to read the rules first! have a lovely day everyone <3

[deniigi]

Lando The Nosy Neighbor AU

Title: good fences make good neighbors

Summary: Modern AU based off the premise presented to me as ‘Han and Leia move into the same neighborhood and start a feud, only to eventually overthrow the local Homeowner’s Association.’

Relationships: Pot-farmer!Han/Lawyer!Leia; Farmboy!Luke/Survivalist!Din; Lando & Breha Organa & Chewbacca

This is based off a rural community in Washington which has local cults.

Lando POV

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

A hippy has moved in next to the Organas.

It’s a good one, too. This one hasn’t even rented a moving truck, they’ve just come on over with all their furniture tetris-ed in on top of itself and wrapped tight with rope, blankets, and prayer.

Lando’s petunias screech for watering as the hippy throws open the truck’s door and comes staggering out, cracking his lanky back. Out of the other side comes an even hairier, even lankier person. He closes the truck door and looks right at Lando.

He stares.

It is a challenge. But of course, not one that Lando is not prepared to handle.

He points at his watering can.

Hippy Two seems to scoff.

Lando waits until he’s distracted by the first hippie struggling with the blue house’s doorknob to dump the remaining water into the pebbles under his ornamental bridge.

He returns inside and goes about his busy business, tying back the curtains.

It is always good to have someone new in the neighborhood.

--

 It takes the hippy couple a few weeks to get settled into their new home, and in that time neither has ingratiated themselves to Lando.

The stupid one with the floppy hair caught onto Lando’s tricks at the weekly poker match held in the local bar. Lando may have lost his irrigation system, but he has not lost his dignity. It was old anyways. He’s been planning to replace it for nearly a year now. There is never a better time than the present to start making your dreams into reality.

And anyways, the floppy haired out-of-towner will get what is coming to him. Lando has already sown the seed of his demise.

Leia Organa returned home to look after her poor, sick, stubborn mother just two months ago. Breha is fine, of course, not even cancer could snuff out her fires, although she is bored of her husband and daughter trying to trap her indoors. Her immunocompromised escapades have been delightful to watch.

The Organas are always a lively group. There is never a dull moment or lack of machinations among them—especially the lady of the household. She, like Lando, appreciates a good tussle. Which is why he has pointed out to Leia that her new neighbors’ greenhouse is mighty interesting, is it not?

Lawyer Leia’s ears pricked up like a horse’s, and Breha’s sharp eyes took on new sheen.  

Lando watches Leia in the mornings now, struggling to find upper-body strength and purchase on the wood of her backyard fence, among the roses and bougainvillea. She’s so tiny, Leia. Breha is not an overly large person either, and thus is no help in this endeavor to collect data on the greenhouse of questionable origins and purposes on the other side of the fence. Leia doesn’t need her, though. She needs no one. She’s seen what she needs to.

Lando pours tea from a glass pot given to him by someone in his company who wishes for their secrets to remain so and beautiful, clear amber liquid fills his cup.

He looks up to see Leia holding her phone out as far as she can without relinquishing her grip on the fence. She fumbles, trying one-handedly to document the crime before her, but alas. Even the mighty sometimes trip on the red carpet.

The phone slips. She grabs after it in slow-motion, horror filling every pore of her face.

It is gone now, that phone.

The Public Nuisances will know what she has been up to.

Lando sighs and leans back in his seat.

--

 It is no time at all before the dropped phone is returned graciously over the white, waist-height fence that separates the Public Nuisance’s yard from the Organas’. Leia snatches her phone back and wipes it off with her hand and sleeve. The shorter public enemy, Han, he calls himself, smiles at her cheekily. He retracts his hand and gestures to the taller fence, barely visible for the fruit trees and vines, between their backyards and says something that makes Leia go very, very still.

It is, undoubtedly, a challenge. Not unlike the one that that the more polite public nuisance, Chewie, opened his and Lando’s relationship with.

Chewie has explained without mincing his words, that he and Han have come here because their last venture was lost in a snowstorm. Chewie will be damned if his precious seedlings are so callously frosted over again. The Pacific Northwest has no chance of freezing over, he says. It provides a better setting to grow stock.

Weed, he means. Marijuana. Chewie is again, not shy. He and Han make good money supplying dispensaries with their organic, hand dried leaves. It is apparently ‘artisan’ like in quality.

Lando isn’t sure he’d go that far, but yes, it is nice stuff. And yes, Leia, bastion of justice, does need to see the men’s permits.

Lando opens the window for a breeze and catches Han telling Leia that he’ll produce them if she arm wrestles him for the right to witness their authenticity. Leia agrees. Han fetches a small worktable from the house’s garage and sets it between them.

The match is over within seconds. Leia has never been so insulted in her life. She demands a rematch and, out of sheer indulgence, Han gives it to her.

He is nearly a foot taller than her. He could lift her up and over her own fence with ease if he so desired. He wins the next round. And the next one. He loses the last one by reason of having his leg deadened under the table but stands abruptly to renegade on his earlier promise.

“You watch yourself, princess,” he calls over his shoulder with his hand on his front door’s knob.

“Oh, I’ll be watching,” Leia snarls back.

Han slams the door. Chewie looks from him to Leia standing fuming in the shade of her family’s pine trees.

“Unbelievable,” she snaps at him before stomping off herself. “UNBELIEVABLE.”

Lando flicks his eyes up to see Breha’s dining room window wide open. She too, has a cup of tea. She lifts it his way and he lifts his back.

Finally, some quality entertainment once more.

--

 Han and Leia’s hatred has become neighborhood gossip. They have begun going to extraordinary lengths to gain the others’ attention. For example, Han, in weeding his sparce flowerbeds, was careful to shove the fruits of his labor between the fence slats into Bail’s well-tended herb garden. Bail, ever the gentleman, does not mind, but of course Leia feels that her family honor has been spat upon. She collects the weeds and returns them to her owner, via mailbox. It is kind of her to put the flag down, so Han knows that he’s received a message.

The retaliation is a mural in rainbow colors commissioned by Han and painted by one of the budding young teenagers from a school about a thirty minute drive downtown. It is...psychedelic. And facing Leia’s bedroom window.

Han asked the youth who painted it to add in a figure in the center of the composition; it is a brown-haired woman dressed all in white, surrounded by thorny vines, and attempting to climb a fence. The young artist must have felt like Michelangelo in the application of those delicate strokes of artistry. They knew they were creating something holy.

Han helps that along by bracketing the figure with solar lanterns that light up at night and keep the image fully illuminated.

When Lando arrives to Breha’s side to go on a walk, arm in arm, with her and her beast of a terrier, she giggles like a schoolgirl behind her hand.

“Han is very handsome,” she tells Lando.

“He’s alright,” Lando says.

“I think he and Leia are a perfect match. Will for will. No one’s ever dared to cross her like this.”

Now that is a fact.

“I wonder if this is the start of something more,” Breha says.

“What does your husband think?” Lando asks.

Breha waves him off dismissively.

“Oh, you know. He’s convinced that Leia will kill Han in his sleep, and we will be forced to post bail, but I told him—as I’ve told you, Lando—Leia’s too smart to get caught committing axe murder. Now poisoning, that’s a different story.”

--

 Lando wakes up and makes coffee. He turns on his computer and opens his curtains to let the light pour in and warm his hardwood floors. He stands at the window, hiding a smirk behind his mug.

Leia has had enough. She has called the Home Owner’s Association and they are standing at Han’s front doorstep.

--

 It is about three weeks before Han and Leia have overthrown the Home Owner’s Association for interfering in their escalating romance—ahem—bloodfeud. By then, Lando’s work-from-home situation is suffering. It is impossible to focus with those two cluttering up his view with distractions left and right. He determines that, for the sake of his finances, he must direct his attention to something a little further afield.

The Lars’s vegetable stand is becoming something of an institution.

It’s about a mile or so out of Lando’s way, tucked smack in the middle of the battlefield that is the stretch of land between the survivalist cult that lives in the forest and the pseudo-Buddhists that live in their compound. The farm itself is a few acres and the Lars’s son can be seen walking around, herding livestock out of the road and into pastures.

Lando has heard whispers that this son is none other than Leia’s twin brother, but no one has the nerve to directly ask the Organas about the truth of such a scandalous idea. The most that can be said about Luke Lars-Skywalker is that he is a master of social media.

He has created a Youtube channel and an Instagram to document the practices of his family’s farm and the products they produce. He is in a twitter-war with many communities online for his videos on small-scale bee-keeping, and his family’s stand is proudly boycotted by the vegan association in the city on farmer’s market days.

It has become well-known among the farm-to-table restaurants in the city, though, and that is why Luke keeps on keeping on with his cows and his fowls and his silly camera holder.

But all that means little because Luke Lars-Skywalker is in love.

Anyone with eyes can see it.

He is in love with an ancestral enemy.

See, in this area there are not one, but two cults and naturally, they abhor and reject the others’ teachings. To the south are the pseudo-buddhist, clairvoyants who have fashioned themselves more or less as monks preoccupied with meditation, self-development, and a few fairly mystical beliefs among the rather terrifying devotion to martial arts. To the north are the survivalist whack-jobs who don’t believe in electricity or running water, but who are also, somehow, preoccupied with self development and a terrifying devotion to martial arts.

Both groups have publicly denounced the other as misguided extremists.

The rumors say that Luke and Leia’s biological father is one of the clairvoyants, and this is where the heart of the current delightful irony lays.

Luke Lars-Skywalker is in love with one of those survivalists.

Lando knows this because he has seen it with his very own eyes.

He took a trip a while back to purchase some greens from the vegetable stand and he was there for a little while, picking through the selection, when he looked up and saw Luke’s posture explode out of its lax boredom. Lando looked over his shoulder to see what Luke’s tan, freckled attention had latched onto and lo and behold.

It was a man. And not only a man, a man with a baby.

Luke stuffed knuckles into his mouth to keep from cooing as the father of the child nodded at him and meandered over to have a poke through the produce piled up on the stand. The baby, dressed carefully in layers of warm, water-resistant clothing, watched Luke right back. He smiled and grunted, waving his dark, stubby arms and Luke melted—literally collapsed into a fraction of his size behind the paystation.

The father, a white rugged guy with dark curly hair and a great deal of stubble, shifted the baby to his other arm. His worn, heavy clothing and the military-style canvas sack on his back marked him as one of the Cabin-In-the-Woods people.

Lando felt like he was watching a country romance flick in real life.

Luke gathered his courage and approached the dad and baby to ask if they were looking for anything in particular. The baby immediately held hands out to him. Luke asked the father if he could hold the little one. The father said ‘no.’

Lando nearly choked on his own spit.

“Oh, sorry buddy,” Luke said to the baby. “Daddy thinks I’m gonna eat you up.”

“He just got a bath.”

Luke gooey expression hardened in an instant.

“Excuse you. You sayin’ I’m dirty?” he asked. “You sayin’ I smell like horseshit?”

The father stared at Luke wordlessly.

“Pigshit,” he corrected.

“WHAT.”

Lando no longer needed only greens. He had to pick a cheese from this bountiful pile. Oh dear, so many to choose from.

“I said, you smell like pigshit. And he just got a bath,” the survivalist father said. “How much for the tomatoes?”

“Twenty a pound,” Luke said viciously.

“That’s steep.”

“There’s a discount for people who smell like pigshit.”

“You get a lot of those?”

“No, but I know how to wallow in the time between buyers.”

“Are you angry or something?”

“Take your damn tomatoes.”

“I didn’t pay yet—”

“Just take ‘em. Go. Go.”

“Twenty—?”

“Hey, Mr. Calrissian, that’ll be ten-fifty,” Luke said over the protests.

That was then. This is now. And Luke Lars-Skywalker has not let up on his tirade against this survivalist. Nor, it is important to note however, has the survivalist stopped coming to the vegetable stand when Luke is working it.

What is even more is that Lando can see with his own two eyes that the survivalist is not holding his baby at the vegetable stand now, as Lando closes his car door a little ways from the stand. Luke smiles at Lando as he draws near; he is bouncing at the knees. He waves the baby’s hand in greeting and the child gurgles and twists back to grab at his face.

Lando smiles and does not say anything.

He finds Chewie inspecting a sprinkler at the edge of his and Han’s yard on the way back and crosses the street to inspect it with him. It sputters. Chewie suspects outloud that their squirrels are getting stronger and more destructive by the day.

Lando asks him if he’s been the Lars’s vegetable stand since moving into town.

He has.

Lando asks if he’s ever seen Luke there, holding a baby.

He has.

Lando is smug.

“Mr. Rugged Mountain Man is falling for the farm boy,” he tells Chewie.

Chewie lifts a thick eyebrow.

“One day soon, that baby is going to go from living off the grid to living in a barn,” Lando tells him. “Mark my words.”

Chewie tells him that that is impossible without a kidnapping charge because the Rugged Mountain Man is the straightest man that he’s ever seen. Lando tells him not to judge a book by its cover.

Weirder things have happened. Han and Leia, for example.

Chewie tells him that he knows that Lando is somehow responsible for those two’s newly inescapable sexual tension and he will never forgive him for it.

Lando cannot believe his ears. Him? An instigator? Of course not, Chewie. He is but a humble spider, waiting around in his house for a fly to shake things up. He is an observer, nothing more, nothing less.

Chewie just points a finger at him.

Lando points a finger-gun back. He fires it with a click of his tongue.

[pinkteapotwriting]

Fluffy: Sirius and reader getting into a little fight and then the two of them making up and having healthy coping, vibes kinda like the song anyone else but you specifically Sirius saying “I’m your biggest fan” so maybe the fight being about support and reader not believing in themself

Smutty: sleepy morning sex with Remus and Sirius

Wolfstar x Fem!reader

Warnings: Smut! Sex, just regular old sleepy morning sex. Sirius is more sub in this, but it’s not a dom relationship. Minors DNI please

Word count : 1041

---

He was entranced at the sight of his two lovers spooning beside him as he sat up. The morning light cascaded down on you and Sirius’s perfect features, illuminating all the things he loved, just like the way the moon had done the night before. He was completely dazzled until he snorted at the sight of Sirius cupping one of your breasts in his sleep. He was just about to pull away before you latched onto his wrist, ensuring his warmth could linger longer.

“Darling, I thought you were asleep. Do you want tea? I was about to make some.”

You just kept your eyes squinted shut as you shook your head. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, (at this point you had your lips pursed and were whining as he kissed anywhere but your lips.) chin, cheeks.

You dared to open your eyes to compose the meanest glare you could muster but clearly he wasn’t afraid of your wrath and fury as he simply just laughed.

“What do you want precious, hmm?”

“Gimme a kiss.”

“I just gave you so many.”

You attempted to steal a kiss yourself and I say attempted because Sirius let out a soft moan into your ear that made both you and Remus freeze in your tracks. Remus raised his eyebrows while you gave your butt an experimental wiggle that had Sirius letting out a louder moan than before. Remus reached past your face to stroke Sirius’s to wake him. 

“Pads love, you alright there?”

His eyelids fluttered open and  he realized how closely pressed he was to you and whimpered. You turned around quickly and started planting kisses to help ease his troubled expression, but alas it only seemed to make him more desperate. He pulled your leg over his hip and rolled so you were now straddling him upright while he was on his back. You rubbed your hands down his bare chest as he tilted his head back in frustration.

“Siri baby, it’s okay. What do you need love? tell me.”

“Y/N I need you to ride me please, I need you so bad.”

 You quickly removed your underwear and slipped off his boxers. His cock looked red and swollen, precum already leaking from the tip.

“Y/N please.”

“Patience pads.” Remus intercepted.

In his state you didn’t want to tease him any longer so you sank down on him as he sighed in release. He bunched up the bottom of your (his) shirt and tugged so your lips could reach his, but he quickly started whining again.

“What baby, what is it now.”

He just reached out to Remus with his hand, while urging you to bounce with the other. Remus gave his hand willingly thinking Sirius just wanted to hold it, but a shot of pleasure and desire went straight to his dick when Sirius instead led his fingers into his mouth.

“Fuck Pads, that’s one of Y/Ns tricks, and we both know how that ends right?”

Sirius just nodded still sucking on his fingers, while Remus reached over to the bedside table to grab some lube.

He pulled his fingers away from Sirius so your tongue could replace them.

“Kay Sirius, spread your legs for me a bit.”

As soon as Sirius did what he was told Remus was rubbing lube over his tight hole, which made Sirius jump at the contact, which made you start to grind into him harder. If Sirius was close before, the feeling of Remus’s fingers inside him only brought him closer. You tangled your fingers in the raven locks beneath you, completely enamored with the perfect friction Remus was helping to create. 

“Y/N, Sirius stay still for a second I think he’s ready for my cock now.”

Sirius nodded eagerly while on his knees Remus hooked Sirius’s legs over his thighs so he could get easier access. Sirius gripped your hips tighter and tighter each time Remus moved in a new inch. Finally when he was fully sheathed he gripped your waist to pull your back to his chest to anchoring himself to the perfect reality that he could call his. You gripped his hands and led them to your breasts sending a clear message, and he took the hint. 

“Moony, please.”

Remus peered over your shoulder to gaze down at the beautiful man before him. 

“I got you love.”

Finally he started moving, thrusting slow but powerfully. His arms kept you pressed to his chest as he kissed with purpose against your neck. Sirius had already been so worked up, so he was a writhing mess beneath you, completely blissful. Not too much of a mess however, to place his palm on your inner thigh so his thumb could circle your clit. You threw your head back in ecstasy, and the feeling of Remus’s breath spanning across your chest only had you feeling much more sensitive.

“Y/N please cum, need to feel you cum on my cock.”

In sync with Remus he started to thrust into you harder, robbing the air from your lungs. Remus kept you supported as your thighs started to quiver.

“Fuck that’s it Y/N, you feel so good I’m gonna cum too.”

He thrusted one more time before painting your insides with his release. Remus wasn’t giving him the chance to recover, however as he pushed you down so you were pressed firmly against Sirius’s chest. He splayed his palms on your back to support his weight, so he could thrust with more vigor than before. You soothed Sirius by stroking his jawline and pressing kisses to his forehead, just knowing how sensitive he would be considering he was still inside you as Remus was ramming into him mercilessly.

“You’re doing so good Siri, taking his cock so well love.”

“That’s right, course he does, I fit perfectly.” He growled as his orgasm approached quickly. His hands rested over then squeezed Sirius’s that were still holding on to your hips for dear life before collapsing on his back. Remus watched as you lifted off Sirius, loving the sight of his cum pouring out from your wet heat back onto Sirius’s abdomen. 

What a perfect way to start the day.

---

LOL of course I chose the smutty one, even though the other one was a great idea too. This was the last winner for my 200 celebration <333

@sunny-bunnny @quindolyn @weasleyposts @bluemoonyblurbs

[artblogart]

Economical and comfortable in your own home thanks to saving tips

Economical and comfortable in your own home thanks to saving tips Cold hands and cold feet, and of course a cold wind chill for your whole body. Those are the main reasons for turning on the heating, kerosene or gas stove, or to throw another log into the fireplace. Such a block of wood can still be found now and then, but the heating costs for the central heating system quickly rise (on average 94 euros per month). So save money in these difficult times for many people. Here are the golden tips and tricks.

Put on a scarf and sweater at home

Why does the old nobility wear those chokers and scarves around his or her neck. That is from the time when they lived in big cold castles. You lose eighty percent (!) of your body heat through your head. Logical, because heat rises. So your neck is a big heat leak. If you wear a collar there with a scarf, it makes a huge difference in heat loss and you don't have to heat nearly as high to feel very comfortable. A nightcap Even more effect, for the same reason, is to put on a (night) cap at home.

Do you have visitors or do you feel uncomfortable?

Then only do it when you are alone. Just put on a nice warm hat. Are you cold because you spent too long in front of the laptop? Go change the bed or do the dishes. Three birds with one stone. The movement makes your blood flow faster again and that ensures warmer limbs. The dishes are done immediately and your hands are nice and warm from the washing up water. ah warm feet Warm feet is also a very nice and comfortable experience if you heat a little lower. Invest in very thick thermal socks and insoles. Buy your shoes one size larger and have them close above the ankle as well. This way you can fit two pairs of socks and an insole and the (fake) fur-lined inside will do the rest.

Buy your warm shoes a size too big

Due to the size larger, there is also an extra layer of still air that provides extra insulation. And your fur layer stays a little more intact. This way the insulating effect of your shoes remains optimal. Every now and then a new insole because by walking a lot you kick the air out and they work less. Also note that the thickness of the soles is reasonable to very thick. All the cold from the floors can't get to your nice warm feet. Therefore, sheep not only have their fur to keep warm, but also hooves. This keeps them high and dry above the cold ground.

Put on a wool sweater

A sheep wool sweater is also very warm. Especially if there is still a thermos shirt and a shirt underneath. The air layers between all the different textile layers provide the extra insulation. A bit like the layer of air between double glazing. They also use this trick in the military. Homeless people and Elfstedentocht riders do it too. But then with newspapers under the sweater.

We wash away 7000 liters of drinking water per year

Replace your old taps and shower heads with water-saving variants. Your water consumption can be reduced by a third. On average a saving of 35 liters per person per day. New toilet bowls have a selector button or flush interruption for the six liters of flushing precious drinking water. With older cisterns you can easily buy a flush interrupter for five to eight euros. That saves no less than 7000 liters of drinking water on an annual basis. The plants get old-fashioned water from the rain barrel The rain barrel under the gutter is great for rinsing and watering the garden.

Instead of having the sprinkler on all day, you can also water the plants with the watering can.

Matt black radiators on your roof for free hot water

It is completely cheap to paint a few old radiators from demolition matt black and place them on your roof. The sun heats up the water because of the black color. And so you have free hot water. Be careful with Salmonella. Connect the radiators to your shower and you will save another 50 percent here. Showering is cheaper Showering is better than taking a bath. A bath is 150 liters of warm water. Showering costs much less (50 liters) and it saves 3000 liters on an annual basis. You will lose your hot shower water. If you have a camping shower where you let a thick black plastic bag heat up in the sun during the day, you can take a hot shower in the evening for free.

If you do the same principle with black radiators on your roof, it will go completely smoothly. Because you don't have to lug that bag around anymore.

Black garden hose in a container with glass on it gets boiling hot

You can also achieve the same result with a coiled black garden hose (or two connected black garden hoses) in an insulated container that is closed with a glass plate or transparent perspex plate. Then the water is really boiling hot. When it comes out of the hose. Be careful with Salmonella.

And last but not least The point is that you don't just take the tips for information.

If you don't do anything with the tips, it won't yield much. Just a little awareness. That's a good thing, because it ensures that you pay more attention in other areas and make more conscious choices.

That will lead to improvement sooner or later if all goes well. But why wait until late when you can start now. That also saves a lot of money. So use these tips to live efficiently, free, cheap, effective, profitable, sustainable, cozy and cozy.

[junghelioseok]

repose.

↳ spending all hallows’ eve with your best friend is a tradition that becomes even more important now that he’s your boyfriend too.

◇ hoseok x reader ◇ fluff | almost smut | werewolf!au ◇ 1.3k [1/1]

⇢ the aftermath of covenant, sorta. please read it beforehand.

notes: happy hobiween/all hobis’ eve! here is my cheesy lil offering for the season. 😊

There’s a noticeable chill in the air when you open the front door of Hellebore, signaling the arrival of autumn at last. Inhaling deeply, you savor the crispness of the morning, watching from the step as the city awakens from her slumber. A mail truck trundles down the street, delivering packages and envelopes door to door. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barks.

Behind you, the kettle begins to whistle, shrill and piercing, and you take one last deep breath before turning back into your shop. Grabbing a canister of tea from the shelf, you prepare a pot and two cups. The bell over the door chimes just as you are filling up the second, and you smile as your guest’s footsteps come to a stop just a few feet away.

“You’re right on time.”

“I’m nothing if not punctual,” Hoseok replies with a grin, sweeping a lock of windswept auburn hair off his forehead before stepping forward and closing the gap between you. His arms wind gently around your waist, lips finding the junction of your neck and shoulder where his mark sits, and you shiver when he presses a soft kiss there. “Besides, I missed you. I came as soon as I could.”

Your smile widens. Leaning back, you let Hoseok envelop you in the furnace-like heat he naturally radiates, relishing the feeling of being in his arms. Despite the chill, he’s wearing only a charcoal blazer and matching slacks, his maroon tie loose around his throat. And somehow, even though he’s just come inside, it feels as if he’s been sitting beside a roaring fire for hours. Sighing, you let your eyes flutter shut, savoring the warmth. Your relationship is nearing the one-year mark, yet you still feel like it could all come crashing down if you make even a single misstep.

Speaking of which…

“How’s your dad?” you ask, turning in your beloved boyfriend’s embrace so you can see his face.

Hoseok frowns, his brows furrowing. “Grouchy,” he admits after a moment’s thought. “Nayeon’s family gave him hell after I broke off the engagement. You’d think they would’ve backed down by now—I mean, it’s been months—but the message just isn’t sinking in. Mr. Im is even threatening to take over the company.”

“JungTech?” you query. “Can he do that?”

“I’d like to see him try.” Hoseok’s voice dips into a low, rumbling growl, and you suddenly remember that he’s the alpha of the Gwangju pack for a reason. “The board is standing by me, and I don’t intend to let that change. As long as they trust in my leadership—as long as they trust me—everything will be fine.”

In the back of your mind, Bast stirs. There's a shift and a tug on the soles of your feet, and then your familiar is materializing, the shadows coalescing around him in the shape of an inky black cat. Hoseok glances down when Bast winds around his ankles, his face breaking into a smile as he leans down to give your feline familiar a scratch behind the ears in greeting. “Let’s talk about something else,” he says as Bast begins to purr. “It’s All Hallows’ Eve, after all, and we should be celebrating. Do you have everything we need?”

Over the years, it’s become an annual tradition for you and Hoseok to spend the final day of October together, decorating Hellebore and getting ready for the influx of trick-or-treaters that will undoubtedly begin knocking come nightfall. The counter lining the far wall of your shop is spread with an array of pumpkins in varying shapes and sizes, as well as a tall stack of unlit candles and a pile of ripe red apples, and Hoseok beams as he plucks a piece of fruit off the top and takes a bite.

“Happy All Hallows’ Eve,” he says once he’s swallowed. “Have I told you that you look gorgeous yet?”

You laugh and let him twirl you in a slow circle. All Hallows’ Eve is the one time of year you indulge in all of the stereotypes about your kind, donning a classic black pointed hat and carrying around a broomstick. Your dress is a deep, plummy purple this year, and you’ve applied lipstick to match. You’d even found Bast a tiny witch’s hat of his own, but he’s stubbornly refused to wear it and has instead hidden it somewhere you haven’t been able to find yet.

“You don’t have a costume,” you point out once you’re facing him again, reaching up to stroke through his rumpled hair. “Do you want some face paint?”

“Paint and I don’t really get along,” he says with a chuckle, no doubt citing his questionable artistic abilities. “Besides, I come preloaded with the perfect costume—or do kids not dress up as werewolves anymore?”

You heave a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine. I guess if I can dress up as a witch, you can be a werewolf.”

Hoseok grins and pecks your cheek affectionately. “Can’t beat authenticity,” he murmurs, before finding your lips in a longer, languid kiss. His hands anchor at your waist, and you indulge him for a few precious moments before reluctantly pulling away and picking up a pumpkin off the counter.

“Here,” you say, pressing it into his arms. “Stop trying to distract me and start carving.”

Hoseok dips into an exaggerated bow. “As you wish.”

You roll your eyes, but your laugh is impossible to hide. Picking a spot on the counter, you set up your tools, selecting a knife and examining the blade. Hoseok takes up residence beside you and plops his pumpkin down, plucking up a knife of his own.

It’s easy—digging your blade into the top of the pumpkin and carving around the stem. It comes naturally, after so many years. Hoseok grimaces in disgust when he has to scoop out the first handful of seeds—just as he always does—and after a few more handfuls you finally relent and tug his hollowed pumpkin over to help.

At first, you don’t notice when Hoseok steps away, too focused on getting every last seed out of your pumpkins and setting them aside to roast later. But it’s impossible to miss the hands that suddenly materialize around your waist, gliding down until he’s palming at your hips.

“Hobi—” His name escapes you in a whisper. “What are you doing?”

“You smell good,” he murmurs, lowering his head to the crescent-shaped mark at your clavicle, his tongue darting out to lave across the tender skin. “It’s distracting.”

Your head falls back, your eyes fluttering shut as you instinctively allow him more access, and you feel him smile against your throat when a soft sigh escapes your lips.

Slowly, Hoseok begins kissing a trail up the side of your neck, one hand sliding up to cup your cheek. He turns your head gently toward him, just enough so that he can slant his lips across yours, and you immediately part your lips to allow him access. You arch beneath his touch, and when he presses his chest against your back, you keen at the feeling of his rapidly hardening cock against the curve of your rear. Hoseok is all you can feel and all you can taste, the tartness of the apple lingering on his tongue and mingling with his fresh, woodsy scent.

The resounding splat of a fallen pumpkin brings reality crashing back down. You and Hoseok break apart, staring down at where the orange squash lies in pieces on the tiled floor. Slowly, you trace the path it must have taken off the counter, following it all the way up to black paws and a pair of sharp, golden eyes.

Figured that’d get your attention, Bast remarks, turning away and flicking his tail. Save it for the bedroom, horndogs.

[k-s-morgan]

What He Grows to Be: Snippet 8

This snippet differs from others a bit because it's concerned with a specific arc more than with Tom and Harry. But that's why I picked it as without context and spoilers, strictly Harry-and-Tom scenes might start looking repetitive :D

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

Tom woke up in an excellent mood, the lines from Harry’s letter still dancing fresh in his memory. For a while, he stayed in his bed, mouthing them and enjoying the rush of pleasure doing so gave him. When he finally got up, he was met with tense faces of Lestrange, Black, and Mulciber. They were sitting on their beds silently, seemingly waiting for him to awake.

“What happened?” Tom asked sharply. His first irrational thought was that Harry got hurt, but rationality kicked in before panic spread, reminding him of how impossible the notion was. Even in the unlikely event that something happened, he’d be the first to feel it — in every sense of this word.

No one said anything. Instead, Lestrange gave him a newspaper. He looked so enraged that Tom was surprised he managed to stay silent.

The first thing he saw was a huge title with shaky letters: “The Heir of Slytherin — Or Is He?”

His heart twitched uncomfortably. Pursing his lips in preparation for what might be coming, Tom skimmed through the article.

Tom Slytherin is undoubtedly a rising star in the Wizarding Britain. His views are finding support among all kinds of wizards and witches, and that’s because he managed to occupy a middle ground between old pureblood ancestry and progressive pro-Muggle-born attitudes. An heir of Salazar Slytherin who believes in equality irrespective of one’s blood status; a prodigy in dark arts who became a vanquisher of the Dark Lord. Now he’s about to join the Ministry by taking a position that was crafted specifically for him. But is he really who he says he is?

Few of you know that Tom Slytherin was previously known as Tom Riddle. A half-blood himself, it’s barely surprising that he chose to appeal to both purebloods and Muggle-borns in his agenda to take power. His talks about equality and his claims that people grossly misinterpreted Salazar Slytherin’s beliefs are certainly inspiring, but are they true? Or is Tom Riddle a liar?

He can speak with snakes, that much is certain. It means that at least at some point, Tom Riddle’s bloodline was mixed with that of Salazar Slytherin. However, this alone does not give him the right to call himself his heir and even more, make statements about what Slytherin wanted and which ideals he supported. As reliable historical sources indicate, Slytherin built a Chamber of Secrets somewhere in Hogwarts for his heir to unseal. The question is, if Tom Riddle is indeed his heir, why hasn’t he done so yet? Where is the Chamber of Secrets and is the boy even aware of its existence? He told us that his knowledge about Slytherin’s true aims came from the unique books he has in his possession. Ignoring the fact that no one has ever seen these books personally, do they not mention anything about the Chamber? It doesn’t seem likely. In fact, it seems downright impossible. And if Tom Riddle lied about Slytherin’s beliefs to increase his popularity among the population, what else has he lied about?

No one has witnessed his alleged victory over Grindelwald. When asked to share his memories about it through the Pensieve, Tom Riddle refused. An anonymous source close to him confessed that the boy is highly manipulative and prone to exaggerations. He is indirectly linked to the murders of Charlus Potter and a Muggle woman who lived in his neighbourhood. So is he a hero? Or is he an impostor with delusions of grandeur who deceives everyone and ruthlessly disposes of people who do not support him?

One lie leads to another, and before you know it, Wizarding Britain will be ruled by a new Dark Lord who tricked us all by his alleged vague connection with Salazar Slytherin. Before giving him power, we have to find who he really is and what he is hiding.

“Dumbledore,” Tom said. His voice was toneless, but rage was trembling under his skin, trying to pour outside through his magic. “He’s behind this article.”

“Are you sure?” Mulciber frowned. “Why would he do this? He should be thrilled that his precious Muggle-borns are finally being treated with respect. All interviews you’ve given paint you as their supporter, so why would he—”

“Because he doesn’t trust Tom,” Lestrange snapped. He was pacing now, his face agitated. “The bastard always hated him — all of us. I just didn’t think his hatred would be stronger than his own hopes for equality.”

“Neither did I,” Tom replied distantly. His eyes went back to the article.

He’d been going out of his way to meet Harry’s ideals and shape his political aims around them. In many ways, Dumbledore’s ideals matched Harry’s. Mulciber was right, he should have been pleased to see them promoted. But Lestrange also had a point — Dumbledore’s reservations happened to be stronger. He must believe that Tom was playing a long-term game, and that as soon as he got the real power, he would reveal his true goals. Whatever Dumbledore imagined them to be, it must have been terrible enough to make him step up and try to tarnish Tom’s reputation.

“Is it true, though?” Black asked. Tom slowly looked up at him just as Lestrange whirled around in outrage.

“How can you even—” he started, but Black interrupted him.

“We never saw those books. We never really discussed the Chamber of Secrets. Do you know where it is, Tom?”

“I’ve visited it once,” Tom replied. He wasn’t lying — he saw the Chamber of Secrets in Harry’s memories. The only problem was that he had no idea how to enter it because Harry hadn’t trusted him with this information.

“You have?” Lestrange exclaimed. His ridiculously eager eyes lit up. “So you do know where it is!”

Mulciber began to grin. Black alone remained unmoved, watching him with furrowed brows.

Perhaps he sensed it was half-truth and was trying to understand what it could possibly mean. Black was smart, probably smarter than Lestrange and Mulciber combined — smarter than Tom had ever given him credit for. And right now, this was the last thing he needed. To have even his closest circle doubt him… just because Dumbledore felt threatened and wanted to be petty…

His rage darkened, turning into something vicious and vindictive. A hundred of possible counter-plans shot up in his mind, but they all crashed against one simple truth.

He had no clue where the Chamber of Secrets was. And now that the idea was planted in people’s heads, they would not let it go. He’d have to prove he knew its location or have everyone doubt him.

If Harry could just tell him…

No. He wasn’t going to bother Harry with it. What they had was more significant than any rumours or doubts that would circulate around him. Tom would rather be known as a liar and an impostor than risk stretching the trust he and Harry had been building all this time. If Harry wanted, he would tell him, but he wasn’t going to ask or rely on this possibility.

He’d have to find the Chamber by himself and make Dumbledore choke on his ‘anonymous’ testimony.

[marvelslut16]

Inseparable

Pairing: Reggie Mantle x reader

Synopsis: Reader and Reggie have been best friends since they were toddlers, nothing tearing them apart until Veronica their Junior year. This follows the rise and downfall of their friendship. Can they mend their friendship and be back to what they once were, will they be too hurt to fix their broken hearts, or will they finally admit their feelings for one another?

Word count: 2.6K+ (my hand slipped)

Warnings: Mr. Honey; he’s the worst villain to ever enter Riverdale, you can’t change my mind. Mentions of child abuse, nothing graphic past the mention of a black eye. Some angst. Spoilers for s4e4 technically, I still can’t believe what Mr. Honey did. 

A/N: I have like 11 requests I still have to get to, yikes. I swear I’ll do them soon, but inspiration hit and I ended up writing this. there isn’t enough Reggie love on Tumblr, plus I have a tiny crush on Charles Melton, so writing this was a win win. let me know what you think, and if I should write more for Riverdale. Veggie is better than Varchie (don’t come for me), but I still think Reggie deserves better than Ronnie. 

Growing up in a small town like Riverdale there weren’t too many kids to become friends with, but when you met Reggie Mantle on your first day of preschool you knew he would be your best friend for life. Archie was showing off on the playground by walking up the slide when the teacher wasn’t looking. The problem then being that Archie's foot slipped right as you were walking passed the bottom of the slide, and he slid down and ended up knocking you on the ground. You started to cry because he scraped your arm bad enough that it started to bleed. Reggie, whom you shared a table with in class, watched from the sidelines as your teacher helped you up and took you to the nurse, he got his revenge during arts and crafts later that day- ‘accidentally’ spilling red paint all over the front of Archie’s khaki pants. When Reggie made it to the table you quietly thanked him and shared your paint with him since the teacher said he couldn’t have new paint as a lesson to be more careful next time. 

As the years went on, yours and Reggie’s friendship only grew until you were inseparable; you two went on family vacations together, you went to every single one of his junior bulldog football games from the ages of eight to twelve, he went to your ballet recitals when you took classes in grade school even bringing you roses. Reggie was your rock at your grandmother’s funeral, you helped him pass his geometry class Sophomore year so he could stay on the football team, and you were the only person that he opened up to about his father’s abuse- having witnessed it with your own eyes a handful of times. 

Your mom was convinced you and Reggie would fall in love and get married one day, and your father was convinced your friendship would crumble and ultimately go down in a blazing fire. Going into your senior year you hate to admit that your father was right, his words bouncing around in your skull every time your brain shut off for longer than two seconds. Veronica Lodge moved to town Sophomore year, enticing every boy within a fifty mile radius with her upper East side charm. Reggie didn’t fall for Veronica right away, he fell for her junior year when he was helping her with La Bonne Nuit. And as cliche as it is, that’s when you realized you were in love with him, you had been for a while. The small nagging voice in the back of your head told you that it had been since that day in preschool. 

But you would grin and bear the pain, the soul crushing pain, if it meant that Reggie would still be in your life. And you did, for a while at least; until Reggie stopped calling and texting you back, until he stopped begging you to come to his games, until he stopped sneaking into your room every friday night after a game to go over the play footage where you would help him come up with new plays and tweaks to the old ones, until he started ignoring you in the halls in favor of making out with Veronica. You never hated the girl, she had been nothing but nice to you anytime you would interact, but God, you just wished she would disappear and give you your Reggie back. 

You resented Veronica, leading your interactions with the girl to be more tense and your answers clipped, and that was what led to the blazing fire your father talked about. Reggie offered you a ride home one day after school, and of course you jumped at the opportunity to spend time with him again. Instead of going to pops and talking like you thought you would, the two of you got into your biggest, and last, fight ever. 

It started with Reggie asking why you hated Veronica, where you defended yourself and swore that you didn’t. But he wouldn’t believe a word that came out of your mouth, continuing to press you as you two kept driving. The closer you got to the edge of town the worse the fighting got, your voice raising along with his. You accuse him of abandoning his friends, abandoning you, to be with Veronica all the time. He gets mad that you don’t understand why he’s with her all the time, claiming that you couldn’t understand not when you’ve never had a boyfriend. Something that he’s the reason for, since he scared all of the guys even remotely interested in you away with just one piercing glare or one lowly growled threat. 

The comment picking on your relationship status, or lack thereof, is the straw that broke the camel's back. You let loose just as you pass the sign thanking you for visiting Riverdale, the town with pep. Pep your ass, the small town is full of death and endless heartache wherever you look. You rip into Reggie, letting the hurt take over as you scream and scream at him-calling him a terrible friend. He finally screams back, claiming that you’re worse because you hate his girlfriend. He has to pull his precious car over, the car you helped him pick out when he turned sixteen, because he started swerving when you two got into a screaming match. 

The interaction ends with you getting out of the car on the side of the road leading into Greendale, slamming the car door behind you, knowing that he’ll get mad with how aggressive you’re being with his baby, his Bella. He does a sharp U-turn driving beside you, trying to coax you into getting back in the car with him. But you can’t do that, you can’t face him right now. So as you watch the taillights of the gun metal grey Chevelle disappear around the curve in the road you finally let the tears fall down your face, they stream harder and faster the closer you get to reentering the town with pep. 

Reggie had dropped your backpack off at your house when he got back into town, so it was sitting there waiting for you in your living room alongside your worried mother. You cried into her arms that night for hours, until you were all cried out, not caring that you look like a big baby. You had just lost Reggie, you had just lost your everything. You hadn’t talked to him since that day in the middle of your junior year, even after him and Veronica broke up and she went back to Archie like always. The days of your senior year seemed to fly by, October coming in what felt like mere days as opposed to months, and your last Halloween in Riverdale is today. 

You and Reggie would always wear matching costumes to trick or treat, and school just for fun as you got older, this always prompted your classmates to wonder if you two were finally dating. But that wouldn’t be happening this year, for the first time ever. You had even dressed up and sat on his porch in costume when you were six, handing out candy to the other kids so you could talk to Reggie, who was in costume too, through the window because he was sick with a 102.2 degree fever. You were dressed as Kim and Ron that year, his mom had even crocheted him a little Rufus to stick in his pocket. You couldn’t wait to get out of this town, away from Reggie, away from the places where you would see ghosts of your younger selves everywhere you went. 

Kevin calls you freaking out after he and Reggie got caught tp’ing Mr. Honey’s office. Kevin caved after Mr. Honey threatened to make sure he wouldn’t get into NYU if he didn’t. Kevin felt guilty for his actions, and even though you hadn’t talked to Reggie in close to a year you were worried about him. Worried what his dad might do to him when he hears he got in trouble at school again, and worried what the unhinged Mr. Honey might do to him himself. 

You don’t hear anything from Reggie the next day, not that you really expect to. You more-so hope he’ll call you, but you know what they say about hope- it breeds eternal misery. The day goes by at a snail's pace as you stare at your phone throughout the entirety of said day. You finally curl in on yourself and go to sleep after midnight, however sleep doesn’t stay for long. You’re awoken around two in the morning from your phone’s incessant ringing, in your dazed stupor you don’t realize it’s Reggie’s special ringtone- the bulldog cheer from Kim Possible. 

“Hello?” you ask hoarsely, making sure to stay quiet so your parents won’t hear. 

“(Y/N/N), can you talk?” your startled to hear Reggie’s voice on the other line. It sounds scratchy, like he was recently in a screaming match with someone. You open your eyes for the first time, finally accepting that you won’t be able to just roll over and slip back into your dreams. You glance at the alarm clock on your bedside table and your eyes widen at the time.

“It’s like two in the morning Reg,” you sigh, hoping he’ll wait till morning. 

“Can I come over?” Reggie’s pleading now.

“Later, we can go to Pop’s for lunch or something,” you yawn loudly into the phone in protest. 

“I’m already here,” before you can respond the line goes dead.

You can hear quiet, almost not there, footsteps outside your window as Reggie expertly navigates his way through the flowers and bushes outside your window. He taps on the window three times in quick succession, your old signal for when he would sneak over letting you know it was him at your window. You reluctantly get out of your warm cozy bed, stumbling to the window to open it for your former best friend. 

Your plans for just slipping back into bed anf hopefully nodding off while he talks go out the window as you come face to face with Reggie’s swollen face. He has a split lip and a black eye, you’re sure he has belt marks on his back too. You don't care that Reggie is climbing through the window a little too loudly, your sole focus now on fixing him up. Once he’s in the room you sneak to the kitchen and quietly grab an ice pack, stopping in the bathroom to grab rubbing alcohol, cotton balls, and ibuprofen.  

You hand him the pain reliever and your bottle of water, it’s not the first time you’ve shared, as soon as you shut your bedroom door behind you. He swallows the pills down with ease, and you both settle on your bed, a sad depressing routine. You don’t say anything as you clean his split lip, he winces slightly when the alcohol drenched cotton ball makes contact with his open wound. 

“Mr. Honey caught Kevin and I last night,” Reggie admits quietly. 

“I heard, Kevin told me,” you murmur unsure of where this conversation is headed, so you continue to dab at his lip.

“Mr Honey, he said that no one takes me seriously, no one since you. He said that he heard around school that I made my ‘persona’ bigger, became more of a prankster, after I lost you. He-he knew about my dad, (Y/N),” Reggie’s voice cracks, you can’t imagine what he must be feeling right now. “Said people at school are laughing at me, worst of all, you’re laughing at me.”

“Oh sweetie, no!” you're quick to jump in and defend. “I would never laugh at you, you know that. Never. No one else is either, he was just saying that to get a rise out of you.” Your arm moves without your permission, you push a strand of black hair out of his eyes before caressing his cheek softly. 

“He tp’d my car, that I get. That was actually funny,” Reggie hisses, you aren’t sure if it’s because you’re lightly pressing the ice pack to his shiner or because of what he’s about to say next. “But he broke Bella’s windshield, shattered her passenger side window, and busted her left headlight.” 

“I’ll kill him!” you jump up from your spot on your bed, no longer caring if you wake your parents. Reggie holds the ice pack to his eye with his right hand, cautiously reaching for your hands with his left. You calm down when his fingers intertwine with yours, sinking back down next to him. 

“I avoided going home all day, but when I did and my dad saw the car,” Reggie takes in a shaky breath, and you rub the back of his hand with your thumb. “He did, well he did this.” He uses your joined hands to gesture towards his face. 

You don’t say anything, instead just pulling him in for a hug. Reggie tenses at first before melting into your warm embrace. You pull him down onto the bed with you so you're laying side by side, he rests his head on your chest as you tuck the two of you in. 

“I know we haven’t talked in a while,” you let out dissatisfied hum as you card your fingers soothingly through his hair. “But you're the only person I wanted to see, the only person I ever want to see. It’s been torture without you (Y/N).”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” you say under your breath, but he hears you clearly with his ear pressed to your chest. 

“I was an idiot, I let my ego keep me from you,” he moves his head to look up at you, his brown eyes shine with sincerity. 

“Don’t do this right now Reggie,: your eyes fill with tears, “Don’t do or say anything you don’t mean just to make me feel better.”

Reggie moves his right arm from around your waist to brush away a stray tear that slipped out of your eye. He moves his thumb down your cheek to your lips, tracing them with the pad of his thumb. Reggie lightly tugs down on your lower lip causing you to uncage it from your teeth, when did you even bite it in the first place? 

“I love you (Y/N), I always have,” he looks away from your mouth so he can stare into your eyes. “And I think you have too.”

“I have, I love you so much Reggie,” he pulls your face down to meet him. The kiss is searing, and a little wet due to the tears leaking out of both of your eyes, but it’s perfect. You pull back when you get the slightly tangy taste of blood on your tongue. You immediately fuss over Reggie’s lip, said lip splitting again during the makeout. Reggie pulls you back down onto the bed and into his arms after you’ve dabbed at his lip with the cotton ball again. 

“How can I make it up to you?” his eyes shine with unshed tears as he stares lovingly at your face, almost like he’s mesmerized by you. “Not just tonight, but leaving you for Ronnie so I could try to get over you, and for every other night you’ve taken care of me.”

“Just never leave me again,” you whimper, which is cut off when he kisses you again. 

“Never,” Reggie’s never been more serious about anything in his life. 

You cuddle up to Reggie’s chest, his warmth and scent quickly lulling you into  a deep comforting sleep. You don’t care that he should sneak out the window and go home, or that your mom will find you two cuddled up in your twisted sheets when she comes to check on you at ten. All you care about is Reggie being safe, in your arms, and finally having him back in your life-but with one vast improvement to your relationship.

Permenent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen​ @rexorangecouny @mrs-malfoy-always​

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Twitter ー Carla Tsukinami [2020 Compilation]

–> This post includes all tweets posted on the official Rejet Twitter account for Carla Tsukinami (@DialoverCarlaT) in 2020.

Shuu l Reiji l Ayato l Kanato l Laito l Subaru l Ruki l Kou l Yuma l Azusa l Shin l Kino

February 14, 2020 (Valentine’s Day)

> What a bothersome lot. I’ll blow all of you away at once.

> When it comes to these things, it’s quality over quantity.

> One precious thing. Obtaining that is more important, don’t you think?

March 14, 2020 (White Day)

> An uncommon guest has come to visit.

> Guess I shall give these ‘marsh mallow’ things Kanato gifted me to Shin.

–> This took me a while to figure out, but Carla wrote he received 魔種麻呂 from Kanato, which isn’t an existing word in Japanese at all. However, when you look at the individual readings of each character, they are pronounced as ‘ma-shu-ma-ro’ or マッシュマロー, the Japanese word for ‘marshmallow’. I guess Carla does not know what a marshmallow is. xD

> I do not know which magic creature has been put into these things. So until I identify them, it seems wise not to eat them.

–> The ‘ma’ character in Carla’s unique spelling of the word ‘marshmallow’ means ‘magic’ on its own, hence why he thinks they’re made from magic beasts living in the Demon World.

> Oi, you. Come closer.

> I heard that today you are supposed to return the favor of last month’s festivity. Following said tradition, I shall thank you as well.

> You are a woman worthy of becoming the bride of a Founder. However, that is not all. You are also a woman I personally do not wish to lose. I am grateful towards the fate that brought us together. Furthermore, I shall fulfill my own duty as well. I vow to protect you, no matter what awaits us in the future.

April 1, 2020 (April Fools)

> Moon March 🌙 E-shop opened

ll Cured dry ham ll

From today onwards, we shall start selling farm fresh and Founder-approached cured dry ham. We can ensure the delivery of high quality products to your doorstep. Only those capable of grasping its value, should press the purchase button.

April 30, 2020

> Come here. We do not get to enjoy such a peaceful time together very often. I shall dote on you plenty to make up for all the lost time. 

> Tell me. Go ahead and explain to me what lovers usually do when together in their room.

May 28, 2020 (Birthday)

> How puzzling. Why do you seem so happy, when it is my birthday being celebrated? However, it is not a bad thing. It appears I can get a sense of fulfillment from seeing you try so hard for my sake. In that case, scoot over. I want to feel you close to me. I want to confirm that you are most definitely by my side by touching you directly.

June 26, 2020

> I cannot believe you are asking me to play the role of a teacher. It seems like you do not quite comprehend your own position.

> Again? Watch your step carefully. How many times must I repeat myself?

June 27, 2020

> You could have simply gone to bed before me.

July 7, 2020 (Tanabata)

> I wish to come across a new art gallery.

July 22, 2020

> I am surprised you are still conscious.

> I forced my fangs inside your flesh. It would have not have been strange for you to faint from the pain.

> Seems like you have become capable of accepting any and all stimuli. When you give me such a commendable reaction, I cannot help but want to ‘dote’ on you even more.

> This time, I will give you something you are always craving for...Exactly, pleasure.

> I shall love you more profoundly.

July 27, 2020

> Dry cured ham represents despair and sadness?

> Why?

August 31, 2020

> The buzzing of cicadas makes for a rather elegant tune.

> Shin. Prepare a watermelon at once.

October 16, 2020

> On my way to the museum, I ran into a certain young man. He was a *

--> In the original Tweet, his sentence cuts off mid-way as well.

> He was a court painter who specializes in portraits. I had him paint my picture, but ultimately, I did not feel very satisfied with the end result.

> My face is not buried that deep inside my scarf. Why did he have to exaggerate it such an extend? For one, a portrait usually takes several days to finish, yet the painter in question finished it in just mere seconds. One should take their time painting a picture of me.

> It truly is a shame, but it seems like his skill level has decreased over time.

October 22, 2020 (DL x Mayla Classic)

> Oi, you. Why are you spacing out in the hallway?

> Aah, Shin said that…? I see.

> In that case, I might have a clue. Follow me.

> Take a look at those stairs.

> Amongst the Wolf Familiars, there’s one which has a bad habit of leaving all shiny objects he stumbles upon on the staircase like that.

> I assume Shin hid the gift in the underground dungeon, hoping you would find it after being ordered to clean the place. However, it was taken away by the Familiar before that, ruining Shin’s plans.

> He should have simply handed it to you. Shin is still quite immature as well, taking such a roundabout approach and then getting upset.

> Oh well, I suppose it is fine. Either way, you should take it.

> This is our gift. From here on out, you should always keep them on you, so they do not get stolen by the Familiar again.

October 31, 2020 (Halloween)

> Trick or Treat...is truly ridiculous. There is no reason to choose one or the other. I shall get my hands on all things I desire. Well then, go ahead and submit your everything to me.

November 11, 2020

> Today calls for a celebration.

> It is ‘cured ham day’. There is not a single day in the whole year worth celebrating more.

> I suppose I should have Shin prepare a few extra legs.*

-> I was really confused by this tweet at first because when I looked up the word 原木, it translates as ‘timber’. However, apparently it is also used to refer to the whole legs of dried ham which come on a wooden stand. 

December 18, 2020

> Why are you making such a face? ...The cold? I see, I suppose humans already show the first signs of hypothermia at this temperature. I cannot simply stand and watch in silence as you continue to freeze. Well then, let me prepare you a cup of hot tea. Let us get warm together.

December 19, 2020

> Woman. This one. Order this one. I desire this drink, its crimson color is vibrant, yet somewhat reminiscent of the dark as well. However, please do not get the wrong idea. I do not feel attracted to it due to its strong resemblance to blood. Any blood other than yours holds no value. Of course, you are special and irreplaceable to me as a person as well.

December 24, 2020 (Christmas)

> Are you enjoying yourself? No, I am not criticizing you for your behavior. When I see you in high spirits, even I get a pleasant feeling inside. I feel like I can sympathize with humans who get excited about Christmas a little better now.

[innerchorus]

I couldn't stop thinking about my ArSen AUs and OCs and such and I currently have nobody to talk to about them so I've come to bother you about it! I apologize! You can ignore this ask if you wish to!

Kazai actually likes Narsus's art! Daryun disapproves. In the first AU they meet when Kazai and his clan are trying to run away from Pars with an eleven-year-old Arslan in tow— Arslan is Kazai's nephew and Kashi, Kazai's elder sister, was Arslan's birth mother— but in the second AU where Arslan doesn't become a Prince because Andragoras found another unfortunate infant, Kazai and Narsus only meet several months after the whole Ecbatana debacle.

Shapur's fate in the first AU is a bit up in the air since I don't know how to convince him to ditch Pars and accompany Kazai's clan to their long lost homeland and he'd die if he stayed. But in the second AU he lives, thanks to the tools and tricks he picked up from Kazai. (Let's just say… as a mage and a “mercenary” and the general sort who dwells in the shadows Kazai does not fight fair.)

The Marda clan does not believe blood is the end all be all for forming a family. If you want blood offspring, great, you do you, but inspired by their god-who-they-say-is-not-a-god Araya they honor, they have adopted a sort of “finders-keepers” mentality in regards of acquiring a child. They also firmly believe that children are precious and must be treasured, and parents and nurturers are respected in their clan. Which is why they will often “kidnap” a neglected or abused or abandoned child. It is not only Kazai who does it, but also many of the adults of the clan. Kashi took in a young Gieve whose own family died from a disaster— Ayunnen (Kashi's husband and Arslan's father) would have taken Isfan in if Shapur hadn't arrived and passed Ayunnen's “test”.

The Marda pride themselves on being able to create and/or nurture things, and a wedding tradition of theirs is that the marrying couple display what their creations they're proud of, whether it be embroidery or woodwork or crops or art or anything at all. They also plant a tree together as part of the ceremony.

Daryun and Narsus, who became part of the clan in the first timeline, marry some time after arriving at the ancient homeland of the Marda, after their rebuilding has made good progress. Narsus of course displays his ✨Artworks™✨. Daryun is not amused but Kazai is very pleased. After all, Kazai is— in Daryun's very exasperated words— “an enabling piece of turd”. (I still have not decided what Daryun could display though ahahaha…)

In the second timeline, Kazai and Shapur would marry— though only under the Arayan faith and not the Parsian since I'm pretty sure same-gender marriages didn't happen in Pars? Kazai is good at embroidery and painting and calligraphy and spell-array drawing (which could be considered a combination of art and calligraphy and magecraft I suppose), and I headcanon that Shapur might pick up some craft so that he can honor the Mardal tradition but again I have no idea what he'd actually learn, or if he had a crafting hobby from the start. Whoops!

For all that he is a force of chaos who don't give no shits about rules, for all that he can be seen as dishonorable or even cowardly due to his admittedly underhanded methods, Kazai is defined by the people he protects and loves. He is willing to compromise his morals and principles if it means the remnants of his clan can survive and be safe. Honor is for the strong. The weak simply survive.

Shapur and Kazai in the second timeline had a rough start, what with Kazai having zero trust in Shapur and Shapur feeling baffled and irritated in general bc Kazai is Like That™, but they come to make things work out between them (smol Arslan helped with that, but that's a topic for another time). Shapur has thought, on more than one occasion, that courting Shapur is like trying to tame a starving and injured feral cat who doesn't trust humans.

That's all for now! I apologize for dumping this in your askbox, but I really didn't have anyone I could dump this all on and I'm too shy to just directly make posts about it since I don't have actual fic and artwork to display for it (except an unfinished fic I had deemed unsatisfactory and is in the process of being rewritten)… I hope you have a fantastic day!

Ahh I'm really late to respond to his message but I have to share it here because this is some go౦ԁ sHit👌 and you should be proud of your worldbuilding! ...also I'm just sat here happily daydreaming about Shapur being married.

[thespianbooks]

A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 26//

Masterlist

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia, @fantasyshadowhunters) *bold tags don’t work ;-;

I hope this chapter finds you all well, please enjoy some fluffy Feysand and baby vibes! ❤️

"He's breathtaking," Rhys said quietly from his place beside me.

After the maelstrom of labor had passed, Sebastian entered the world with a resounding wail—the most heartwarming sound I had ever heard in my life. The minutes after passed in a blur; the midwife placing him on my chest as she and Madja worked on cleaning him off with damp washcloths while Rhys and I stared at our newborn babe. We were both too completely and utterly stunned to speak in those first few minutes but sobbed the second he opened his eyes and were met with remarkable violet-blue.

Every part of him was truly incredible; resembling his father in nearly every feature except for the blue in his eyes and the tiny, perfect, shape of his mouth—even better than my own. I touched the soft, dark tendrils of his black hair as I nodded in agreement with Rhys's sentiment.

"He's amazing," I said, my voice still hoarse from my cries of agony.

But, as our gazes lingered on our son, the overwhelming relief I felt outshined my earlier anguish—any I felt before this moment. All the worry that had grown over the last several months, all the pain I had just endured, now vanished the longer I held my son. As I touched his cheek with a tentative finger, my tattoos a stark contrast against his perfectly unblemished skin, I felt a new bond snap into place.

Rhys must've felt it too, because the kiss he pressed to my temple was tender before he whispered to Sebastian, "Cauldron save you, Mother hold you. I, High Lord of the Night Court, vow to shield you with my body, protect you with my sword," I saw his throat bob as he swallowed before carrying on. "And keep you in my heart. My son."

The tears I had been battling to hold back finally fell as he finished those sacred vows, identical to the words we exchanged when he swore me in as his High Lady. My mate pressed another kiss to my brow but didn't pull back as I met his silver-lined eyes.

"Thank you, Feyre darling," he murmured softly, brushing away my tears with his thumb.

I beamed in return, my throat still thick as I touched his face with my free hand and swept away his own tears. "I couldn't have done it without you, Rhysand," I whispered.

Sebastian mewled quietly from his place on my chest, his wailing having ceased shortly after being placed on my skin, my mate and I returned our attention to him; that all-too familiar gentle and soft glimmer pulsing through the bond that now connected the three of us in the flesh.

XXX

"We call it the Dawn of the North." Rhys began, both of us settled in bed, Sebastian covered in a light blanket and still curled up on my chest for the precious skin-to-skin contact the midwife deemed crucial for the first hour of his life.

In this first hour following the birth, my scent and touch was pivotal in aiding Sebastian's development and especially in triggering his first few instincts—nursing being the most important. It was also a vital part of the new and delicate mother-baby bond between us. So, after the midwife and Madja had cleared away the mess from the delivery and provided me with my own postpartum care; instructing me to rest and recuperate after the undertaking my body had just been through, Rhys joined my side in bed; making sure the warm blankets I had been draped and covered with remained intact. With an arm wrapped securely around my shoulders, he waved a hand, his magic turning the bed in the direction of the window opposite of us. When I met him with a questioning stare, he simply smiled and motioned to the window again; urging me to look for myself.

The sky was painted in delicate, rippling curtains of green and blue light. The stars shimmering as the veils of light transitioned from one color to the next; multiple hues ranging from pale green, to red, to pink, and varying shades of blue shining through as they moved in soft waves across the sky. Set against the mountain, Ramiel, those three stars that only appeared on rare occasions in our court now shone bright while the rest continued glimmering in the patterned light. The look of astonishment on my face caused Rhys to grin as he went on to explain its origin.

"In the ancient texts, it's said that one of the first elements that came into being was night. Nyx, the primordial, and often forgotten, goddess of night was the prelude to the creation of our world-to Prythian itself," Rhys continued, his fingers brushing along my shoulder gently as we stared out at the sky.

"She was rumored to have wings and was powerful enough to be both feared and idolized by the ancient beings of Prythian and the continent. One of the many stories I heard growing up was her love of flying. My mother used to tell me that whenever Nyx would take to the skies, she would rattle the stars just from the mighty flap of her wings as she soared through them. In the early hours of dawn that would follow, the sky would look like this," he went on, his hold around me tightening slightly.

"It could only be seen in the Northern territory of Prythian. When the lords and the courts came to be, the sky would shimmer like this almost every night, but like Starfall, it soon faded over time and became a rare occasion—only appearing the night a new heir to the Night Court was born...as a sign of Nyx's blessing and approval." Rhys finished with a smile, bringing a hand up to wipe at a tear I hadn't realized I shed.

"It's beautiful," I breathed as I turned my head to look at him. "So, it can't be seen in the other courts?" I asked, thinking of the snowfall that had appeared in all of the territories following Eira's birth and how it must have compared to the storm that ravaged the Winter court instead.

Rhys's grin was crooked as he shook his head. "It's exclusive to our court alone, but our allies are being treated to a shower of stars similar to Starfall, minus the spirits" he explained, his eyes returning to Sebastian as the newborn let out a small sigh.

I brushed my fingers along Sebastian's back lightly, afraid that anything more might cause him to disappear, or worse. Through the bond, I could feel Rhys's equal level of apprehensiveness.

"He almost doesn't seem real, does he?" I asked as I continued my feather-light touch along my son's spine.

Rhys shook his head. "I have to keep reminding myself that I'm not dreaming," he said. "That I have a son, here in the flesh, and it's not some cruel trick of illusion crafted by the Cauldron as punishment for my sins…"

My fingers halted before reaching over to grasp my mate's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "He's real, Rhysand," I said softly. "Do you remember what I told you all those months ago? How our son, our little Bash, is the culmination of all the best parts of you; of all the good you've done and are?"

The silver lining his eyes returned as he brought his lips down to meet mine with gentle ease in a chaste kiss. "All because of you, Feyre darling," he responded, his voice barely above a whisper before he kissed me again.

I smiled as we pulled apart and turned startled eyes to our son as he let out a tiny grunt. "Do you disapprove of my affection towards your mother, Bash?" Rhys asked softly.

I saw his hand twitch as if he might reach out and touch him, but changed his mind at the last second. You can touch your son, Rhysand, I promise I won't bite.

My mate's chuckle was quiet, but I felt his lingering trepidation. "It's okay," I encouraged.

His throat bobbed as he reached a shaky hand out and placed it gently on the back of Sebastian's head—so tiny and frail in my mate's large hand. Sebastian remained unfazed, eyes still closed and breathing even, as Rhys brushed a thumb along the light wisps of his blue-black hair.

"He is so small," Rhys murmured, voice still thick with unshed tears as he admired our son up close. "His nose, his lips, his eyes...they are the tiniest I have ever seen in my entire existence."

"He's perfect," I echoed before leaning in to press a breath of a kiss to my son's brow.

Sebastian let out another soft sigh at the contact and twisted his head back slightly, prying his eyes open to meet mine and my heart nearly stopped as I stared back at him. Tears immediately sprang back into my eyes as I smiled.

"Hello Sebastian. It's me...it's mommy," I said, near sobbing. "I love you so much…"

Sebastian's eyes slipped back closed, head cradled in Rhys's hand, already spent from our short interaction. Rhys let out a shuddering breath as I turned to look at him, tears of joy still falling.

"I don't know how I'll ever thank you for this, Feyre," he said, shedding a few tears of his own. "For this gift, this life."

You don't ever have to, Rhysand. He is our son, our gift. I said through the bond.

He pulled me closer as he kissed me again, his brow lingering against mine as we relished in this new familial tie between us.

XXX

Once our uninterrupted hour had passed, Madja and the midwife knocked on the bedroom door, causing both of us to tense as I held onto Sebastian more securely and as Rhys sat up in the bed; wings appearing a second later and curling protectively around Sebastian and me. I laughed when I realized just how soon those feral instincts had kicked in for us and touched Rhys's arm gently.

"They aren't a threat, they're just our caregivers," I reminded him.

He nodded, tucking his wings back in as he called the healer and midwife in, but kept a hand on my back as they entered. The two females came to my side, Madja pulling back the blankets I had been covered with in order to survey my recovery—mostly making sure no post-delivery complications were arising as the midwife began instructing me on how to nurse Sebastian. Both Rhysand and I paid close attention to the midwife's direction, taking extra care to the details on how I should position him on my breast and where Rhys could help should the need arise.

It took a bit of maneuvering, including Sebastian's adorably furrowed brow that resembled my mate's own look of frustration and confusion, but he latched on and was suckling in a matter of minutes. The sensation was strange and foreign, but something deep inside of me warmed as I cradled him to my breast, running a finger along his cheek lightly as he nursed. That warmth turned to a deeper understanding of the love I had for my son, and pride in the fact that I was able to nourish him. I was enough—had been enough in order to grow him safely inside of me, and now had the ability to provide him the sustenance he needed to survive outside of my womb.

I was enough.

You have always been more than enough, Feyre darling

I gave my mate an amorous smile, realizing he had been watching me with a level of devotion I hadn't seen before sparkling in his violet eyes. His hand rubbed loving circles into my back as we turned our concentration back to the midwife, who gave us further instruction on the nursing protocol. I briefly recalled seeing Viviane nurse and thought of how easy she made the process look, but as the midwife explained that I needed to switch Sebastian between breasts every so often and make sure he burped in between the feedings that would take place every few hours; all the while taking care of myself during my own convalescence, I couldn't help but feel a bit overwhelmed.

As if she could read my thoughts, Madja placed a comforting hand over mine. "It may seem like an impossible task now, my lady, but we will help you get accustomed and make sure all of your health needs are met," she said.

The midwife nodded in agreement, and so did Rhysand as he stroked the length of my shoulder. "You know you have plenty of support, my love," he said, and I knew he didn't just mean himself or the midwives.

We had our friends, a whole family, waiting for us back in Velaris once Sebastian and I were strong enough to go back. I stared at my newborn babe, wondering how they might react when they first laid eyes on him—only to be surprised when just the thought alone made me recoil, a sense of panic rising in me. Rhys chuckled at my plight, giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Welcome to my world, Feyre darling," he teased. "Having that irrational, primal urge to keep him away, protected from everyone else, is akin to what I felt when our bond snapped into place."

I blinked; my instincts much further along than I earlier realized. "It's so odd," I mused. "I couldn't wait to introduce him to our family before, but now?"

I looked at Sebastian again as he suckled sleepily and rubbed his cheek gently in order to coax him awake. "I don't think I can let them anywhere near him yet," I admitted.

The midwife offered an empathetic smile while Madja laughed. "That is normal, my Lady, and will go away, to a degree, with time," she reassured.

"We should tell them though," I said to Rhys. "Let them know that he's here, and that we're both safe and healthy."

Rhys gestured to the window, the sky still painted with sparkling veils of pale blues and greens. "They know," he said. "I sent them a message via Az shortly after this appeared in the sky."

I sighed contentedly as I stared at the beauty of it, imagining what color paints I would need to mix in order to achieve those specific hues and what size canvas I would need. Nyx's flight I would call it, in honor of the ancient night goddess and my son's birth.

The midwife and Madja left after Sebastian completed his first successful session of nursing, wherein I reluctantly handed him over to their care for his first wellness examination. The midwife weighed and measured him, tested his reflexes and checked his overall wellbeing, all without much complaint from him as Rhys remained close to his side and talked him through the duration of the exam in soft murmurs. I watched from my place on the bed, propped up against a mountain of pillows after Madja performed her own examination of me and wiped my sweaty body clean with a warm damp towel. The magic of the Cabin presented a new shift at the foot of the bed, and the healer helped me change into that as well before helping me settle back into my semi-sitting position.

My eyes stung as I watched the midwife instruct Rhysand on how to properly place and secure a nappy on our son, before offering to show him how to properly swaddle a newborn babe. I saw my mate's enthusiastic nod, realizing he'd get to hold our son for the first time during the demonstration, and glanced in my direction for approval.

I can't do all the work, now can I? I teased through the bond.

His answering smile was just as warm as mine before he set about his task, the midwife only correcting his technique once before Rhys lifted and cradled the babe in his arms. The bundle that was now Sebastian looked impossibly tiny in my mates muscled arms; the Illyrian warrior, the High Lord of the Night Court, now enveloping his newborn son—the son he never thought he'd have, or deserved. I wiped the tears that spilled over as the older females dismissed themselves, and Rhys crossed back over to my bedside, eyes never leaving Sebastian's face as he stood. My heart squeezed as Rhys brought a hand to touch Sebastian's cheek hesitantly, his eyes growing silver lined as he marveled at our son.

"I don't think I'll ever grow tired of this feeling," Rhys murmured, gaze returning to mine.

"No, I don't think we will," I agreed, resting my head back against a pillow as I watched him.

Rhys paused, realizing. "Do you want him back?" he asked, knowing full-well that my maternal instincts were in full effect.

I shook my head. "I love seeing him in your arms Rhysand," I said. "I don't want you to leave my sight while you have him, but after months of imagining what it might look like to see you hold him...I can't picture anything better."

My mate softened at the sentiment before returning his gaze to Sebastian. "We better enjoy this time together while we still have it Bash, before your mother keeps you all to herself," he joked with a wink at me.

"I hope you warned the others," I quipped, a sleepy smile on my face as I watched Rhys make a small lap around the room, staying in close proximity to the bed.

"Mor and Cassian are already begging to come up here first thing in the morning, but Azriel, Amren and Nesta are keeping them leashed."

My laugh was quiet as I thought of their eagerness, but in reality, they all knew that it would be a while before they could be properly introduced to the newest addition of the inner circle. The midwife explained that the newborn bond was the most intense during the first week, and though I wouldn't be completely healed for another five following, we would at least be able to invite our family to meet Sebastian without the overwhelming need to safeguard him threatening to consume us and bare our teeth at our loved ones.

"They are going to love him," I said as I continued watching him move around the room, eyes growing heavier and heavier with the need to sleep.

Rhys heard the exhaustion in my voice and offered a sympathetic smirk as those adoring violet eyes turned to me. "You should sleep, my love, you've more than earned it after your efforts," he said.

I turned weary eyes to the bundle in his arms and he chuckled. "You can trust I won't leave your side, or even this room."

"I know," I said with a long yawn as he crossed back over to my side, taking a seat on the small space provided on the edge of the bed.

"I'll stay right here while you sleep," Rhys promised. "I think I can placate him until his next feeding."

I grinned languidly. "It can't be too hard if he continues to sleep like this," I said, glancing at Sebastian, who had fallen asleep almost immediately after being secured in his swaddle.

"My thoughts exactly, Feyre darling," he purred.

I was too exhausted to laugh, and instead brushed my fingers along Sebastian's cheek as he remained at peace in his father's arms. My heart squeezing as the full weight of realization hit, that our son was being held by Rhysand—his father.

To the stars who listen,

I brought my hand to his and squeezed it as his words echoed through our bond, both of us sharing a tender smile before admiring the sleeping bundle in his arms once again.

And the dreams that are answered.

[whitestaghere]

Paris in the rain - Edmund Pevensie x reader (Oneshot)

Sksksksksjjjsk.. had this idea for a story the second I started listening to Paris in the rain by Lauv. So here you go! I hope you all enjoy it!!

Warnings - none

Song :- Paris in the Rain

Peaceful.

Sitting up on a hill which gave a beautiful view of narnia. Down below you could see the battle field. Where it all had happened. Where I, Caspian, the Kings and Queens of Old and many Narnians had fought to save their home, to save their people, and won victoriously.

The sky highlighted with an orange hue, with clouds swirled in various directions. Like that of a painting.

A light breeze sweeping past me; I let out a sigh, closing my eyes. Yes. Peaceful indeed. The silence almost making me want to drift off into dreamland.

But soon that silence was broken with a clear of throat. Eyes shooting open I looked around me to find the source of the sound only to lock eyes with those warm chocolate like ones.

Edmund.

"Your majesty," I stand up bowing down to him.

He chuckled. Placing a hand on my shoulder; he slowly pushed me down back onto the grass, making himself comfortable next to me.

Scrunching his nose and furrowing his eyebrows, he scoffed, "I thought I told you not to call me that.."

Giggling to myself I rolled my eyes playfully, looking back at the view laying infront of us.

"It's beautiful isn't it?"

"Yeah.." he sighed.

Shifting my gaze towards him I couldn't help but smile to myself. Breathtaking. Eyes closed, lashes fluttering against his skin ever so lightly. Brown locks gently dancing around his head with the breeze. Freckles on display almost like art. And his plush pink lips slightly parted.

Yes. Breathtaking.

Years of friendship, doing absolutely everything together. In and out of the Pevensie's house and them the same with mine. In time I had managed to catch feelings for the boy. Lucy being the first to notice. She was more excited than I was, which was absolutely adorable to watch. Susan and Peter catching up on it a little later, after they caught enough of me stealing glances at him constantly. And soon enough, that developed to something more. The feelings grew stronger.

But fear washed over me. The friendship we had was so precious to me and so to him as he and his siblings say. So thinking of the million possibilities, I didn't want to ruin what we had right now. So I kept my feelings to myself.

Turning his head towards me he smiled softly. Oh that smile. That damned smile.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

He tilted his head a little raising an eyebrow, "you've been staring at me quite a while now.. I'm beginning to think you like what you see." He wiggled his eyebrows now.

Heat rising upto my cheeks, I nudged him gently while rolling my eyes, trying to hide the blush on my face. But with the way he was boring his eyes into me I couldn't really help it. Clearing my throat I tried to make up a sentence.

"Ooh look! You're blushing!" he pinched my cheek. "You really do fancy me huh Y/N?"

Swatting his hand away I replayed that sentence in my head. Fancy him? Part of me wanted to think he was flirting with me the second he sent a playful wink my way. But the other part of me just knew it was normal in our friendship for him to be a little bit of a brat sometimes.

Oh but that didn't stop me from being a blushing mess around him of course.

"I-I-" looking away from him, I stared at the setting sun in awe, "look! The sun's setting!"

He let out a chuckle. Looking at him from the corner of my eye, I could see his gaze back on the setting sun.

Smiling to myself I fumbled with my hands.

"I see why you like coming up here.." Edmund broke the silence.

Humming I didn't break my gaze from the view in front of me. "I feel at ease here.. feels like a moment away from all the worries of the world. Just peaceful." Letting out a sigh in content I continued, "It's like I finally feel-"

"Free.." he said along with me.

Looking at eachother without a word, I smiled at him softly.

"I wonder if the skies are like this in Paris," the sky now turning into a pinkish colour. I laughed to myself. Edmund knew very well how much I love to go to Paris.

"Well, when we go back home, I'll take you there," he flashed me a grin.

Raising my eyebrow at him I laughed, "you? Take me to Paris?"

Smirking he nodded his head, "yes me!" My heart fluttered at the thought itself.

Honestly speaking, with Edmund here, everything just feels right. I really had nothing to fear. He's helped me uncountable times. Picked me up whenever I fell, and always pushed me to do my best.

"Edmund?"

"Hmm?" his eyes still fixated in front of him.

"Thank you.."

"For what?" he tilted his head a little, this time eyes focusing on me.

"For believing in me.. being there for me."

He hummed in response. "What friends are for.."

My smile dropped at that. Friends. What was I even thinking? That's what it always was. What it always will be.

Like I said, that flirtatious nature was just something normal when it came to being friends with Ed. It's too good to be true anyways. Maybe we're really better off friends.

I was so caught up thinking about the term he considered us, that I hadn't noticed the pair of eyes almost literally, burning holes into the side of my head. The change in my expression not going unnoticed by him.

He was always observant. Knew exactly what was going on around him.

Feeling an odd warmth upon my hands I looked at them. Inhaling a sharp breath my eyes shifted back towards the owner.

The way he looked at me, felt like he was staring right into my soul. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing Ed.. there's nothing wrong." I faked a smile at him.

Now intertwining his larger hands with mine he shifted so he was sitting right in front of me. Obviously not buying my answer.

"You're a terrible liar you know? Years of knowing eachother and you really think I can't tell when something is wrong?" he laughed.

Trying not to look into his eyes I gulped. Hooking a finger under my chin he turned me to face him.

"Now tell me what's wrong silly," he smiled at me softly. "Tell me love."

I blushed at the nickname. He had called me this before but this time it hit me harder. He really isn't making this any easier for me. Mindlessly I spat out what was at the tip of my tongue, "am I your friend?"

Oh Aslan.

I mentally facepalmed. Way to go Y/N.. out of all the things you could've said, this? Really?

He laughed. "What world have you been living in all this time to not know?"

I looked away in embarrassment. "Of course you're my friend silly. Actually, more like family at this point."

Well that was enough to show that he only considers me as a sister. I hope my inner self has that clear enough now. I felt like punching myself for even giving him the opportunity to rub that at my face.

I chuckled bitterly and nodded my head in response, "yeah.." He shrugged shifting once again to make himself comfortable. Hands still in his he traced circles on mine with his thumb.

That's it. I really need to tell him. With a sudden wave of confidence I looked at him, "you really don't see it do you?"

"What do you mean?"

I let out a laugh of frustration. Taking in a breath I began, "I've always been thankful for you and your siblings. I absolutely love and adore the bond that we have. But I umm began to feel something different. Feelings come and go they do, but with you it's different. Anywhere with you feels right. When I'm with you, I feel so happy, I feel like I can finally be myself, I feel safe.. I really hope this won't ruin our friendship but I feel like you have a right to know.. I-I.."

He sat there in silence, listening with eyebrows slightly furrowed. Hoping he wouldn't hate me after this I continued.

"I-I-I like you.." at this he widened his eyes a little and looked away, scratching the nape of his neck.

Panicked I looked away, "listen I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. Please, please just forget it, I hope you don't hate me. I'm so soo sorry."

No response.

Sighing I stood up trying my best to hold back my tears, "I-I have to go.."

"Y/N, wait.."

Stopping in my tracks I mustered up all my courage to face him. Turning around my gaze locked with his. The look on his face was absolutely unreadable.

"Edmund I-"

He shook his head. Coming closer to me he placed a hand on my cheek. It took all the strength I had in me not to squeal. He began to lean in. What is he doing?! My body refusing to make a move, I watched as his eyes momentarily flicked from my eyes to my lips.

Finally closing the space between us he brushed his lips against mine. Just for a brief second. But even when he pulled away, the feeling of his lips still lingered.

I couldn't believe it.

Edmund Pevensie. The Edmund Pevensie kissed me.

He pulled away smiling shyly, "I hope that answers everything?"

I looked at him in confusion. What does this actually mean? "I.. Ed I don't get i-"

Placing his lips on mine once again he shut me up. But this time he didn't pull away. His hand still on my cheek and the other now snaking around my waist; he pulled me flush against him. Slowly moving my lips against his, he smiled into the kiss. Tilting his head, he deepened the kiss. The breeze brushing past us, time seemed like it was slowing down around us.

As soon as he pulled away in order for us to catch our breaths, I covered my face in embarrassment, wanting to run away. But my body said otherwise and decided to stay.

He laughed removing my hands off my face and holding them in his, "you don't know how long I've been waiting to do that, how long I've waited to hear you say those words."

"So.. it's umm.. it's mutual?"

He nodded his head.

"B-but.."

"I'm sorry," he cut me off. "For not saying anything before. I was just so shocked when I heard all that. I just couldn't believe it. Truth is, I've liked you for a long while now."

Widening my eyes my mouth fell open, "you-you what?!" At this point I swear my ears were just playing tricks on me.

As if reading my thoughts he nodded his head, "isn't it obvious? I like you too. I really wanted to confess before, but I was just too afraid. Afraid that I'd scare you off if you didn't feel the same.. I tried to brush it off several times for the sake of our friendship. But well, that.. didn't work. So yes. Conclusion is, I like you too. And since the feelings are mutual I guess it's safe to say, I always have and I always will."

All of this. It was like a dream come true.

"Love is a strong word they say. But with you, love it is."

As if on cue, we both cringed visibly. Looking at eachother without a word, we burst into a fit of giggles.

"When did you get so cringy Ed?" I managed between laughs.

"Cringy much, I thought so.." he laughed.

"But," he paused. "But its true. How I feel."

I smiled at him softly nodding my head, "guess I could say, you fancy me too?"

He laughed heartily. "Yes, you can. So miss Y/N.. now that we both fancy eachother, to make this official, may I- may I court you?"

Smiling widely I nodded my head once again, "yes. Yes you may."

He pulled me into his arms. Snaking my arms around his torso I breathed in his scent. He rested his head upon mine, "my best friend, is my girlfriend. I like the sound of that."

"Yeah, I like it too," I giggled.

Placing my head on his shoulder, he slowly began to sway our bodies together. Under the night sky. Together. It felt just amazing.

"I love you Y/N," he whispered.

"I love you too Ed," I sighed contently. Anywhere with Edmund, feels like Paris in the rain.

Okay wow... I literally wrote half of this while listening to Paris in the rain. It really is a lovely song.

I hope you all enjoyed this! ❤️ I'm sorry if there were any mistakes. Please do send in requests. Love you all and stay safe <3