#these were my winners my fallen heros

[casboobs]

finland should have won, germany should have arrived second and moldova should have been third

[lullabyes22-blog]

Snippet - The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Backalley Galaxy - Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Jinx's cosmic field trip + self-care retreat + honeymoon

Forward but Never Forget/XOXO

Snippet:

Jinx breathes deep. She aligns emotion with essence, desire with deed.

Then, with a blink of her eyelids, the glyphs take flight. Red-gold-green-violet-blue, wrapping around her in concentric circles. Rings of a planet, and they're hers.

So's the cosmos just beyond the range of her senses, not one but thousands, rising and falling in a seismograph of symphonies.

She doesn't touch them. That's as risky as hitchhiking down the Deadlands at midnight with the family jewels jingling in your pocket and a bright red apple stuck in your mouth.

She's learnt that the hard way: that there's an ether between each cosmic fabric. An infinite fold, where broken things wander. Where you'll lose yourself if you're not disciplined enough to keep to one world, and one alone.

Jinx has been caught in the ether's undertow before. Found herself caught between the jaws of its allure, and the impact would've pulverized her bones.

She'd fought the tide with all her strength as it tried to drag her under. She'd tried to remember all the tricks in the books she'd read. The names of everyone who'd ever mattered to her. Everything she'd ever built. Everything she'd ever blown apart.

Everyone she'd ever loved.

Mommy. Daddy. Vander. Mylo. Claggor.

Silco.

Vi.

Ekko.

And all the while, from the depths, she'd heard them calling. Figments that could've been phantoms. Maybe friends; maybe foes. Old selves, new selves. Those who were still here, and those who'd been lost. And some who'd yet to live, and looked upon her with eyes the color of Silco's good blue one, and dark ringlets in their hair, and copper in their skins.

She'd longed to embrace them. Longed to hear them speak. To say: Hey, y'all. You're my peeps.

My family.

That's what they'd whispered, too. They'd promised her everything: magic, mass, matter. A love that tasted, not of bitter betrayals and hidden heartbreaks, but eternity. Kisses that didn't end on the fullstop of borrowed time and fractured fairytales, but lasted forever-and-ever, without death cutting the cord between bodies and souls.

Promises that she could have it all. That it was hers for the taking.

All she had to do was reach out and touch...

Stay, the voices crooned. Stay.

We have everything you want, Jinx. A story of your own, where you can write whatever ending you like. Where nobody's gonna tell you what ain't right, or what ain't real. You can make your life a bestseller, complete with stars and starlets. And every scene is exactly the way you pictured it. Every hero, a winner. Every villain, a flash in the pan.

All playtime, all pranks, all perfect.

Forever.

Jinx knew better.

Perfect was a losing game from the get-go.

She'd struggled. Against their seductions of friendship, their false vows of closure. She'd screamed, and those succubae and incubae beyond reckoning had screamed back to her. Their eyes, black and poison-hungry, had snared her within the wormhole of their netted designs. She'd fought on, knowing the fight was futile.

Because they had already begun to feast.

And then—

Two voices, reaching from above and below. Each speaking in counterpoint with the other. Calling out in stereo, in synchronicity. Urging her on, keeping her strong. Keeping her fighting.

You don't belong to them, Jinx.

Never surrender.

Never forget.

Vi and Silco, calling out to her like dueling sirens. Their cries, echoes of each other. Echoes of her.

Full circle.

With a scream, she'd flung herself backward. She'd fallen, and was caught by the slipstream of her own momentum. And she'd have gone on being caught, spinning in circles over and over, if Viktor hadn't cut through the maelstrom and done the job that she could not.

Ended it.

And with the ending, came the rebirth. 

The Change.

On that day, Jinx had killed Powder for the final time. She'd laid the little girl to rest in a corpus of stardust, with Vander and Mylo and Claggor gathered round, and serene silence stirring in her heart.

No funeral rites. Just farewells, and crows circling away.

She'd taken Viktor's hand, clasped his bony fingers, and touched her cheek to his. He'd been beautiful in that twilit realm, garbed in silver glory and faded sepia with gore. And yet his fragility burned bright. That boyish sense of wonder, a pindot intensity in his eyes.

Persisting, despite everything. Outnumbering the odds.

Let's go, she'd whispered.

Yes, he'd said. Let's.

And they'd begun the journey, through endless fathoms of light and dark. Begun, and yet stood in stasis, as Viktor began the deadly, delicate work of solidifying their tether, stitch-by-stitch, so she'd always feel the throbbing sense of a twin soul burning bright inside her. So they'd never again lose each other among the superhighways of the Void.

Between dimensions; between dreams; between deaths.

Together, Jinx-and-Viktor had slipped along the ether's currents. Together, they'd leapt from thread-to-thread. Together, they'd glided down the lustrous string of fate guiding them to the only destination that mattered. A haven, right and ripe for their union. He'd shaped the atoms, the sensory lexicon; Jinx breathed life into them, crafted the glittering palimpsest of their memories: lace-tipped waves flowing, spangled stars dancing, sands of time glittering cool and ticklish beneath their bare feet.

In this place, they'd shared themselves as one.

I can hear your memories, Jinx.

I can taste yours. Freaky.

Viktor smiled his gentle smile. In the other realm—the real one? the false one?—he was never much more than a pair of scrutinizing eyes at a guarded distance, his pale jaw set and his narrow shoulders braced to carry a thousand burdens.

Here, he could let down that shielded stance. Be himself, stripped to the softly-luminous core.

Human, and all hers.

There was so much I wished to unlock, he whispered, tracing folded fingers down the constellations on her cheek. And it's all here. Within you.

Told ya. I'm one of a kind.

Viktor's smile stayed put. He pressed his forehead to hers. Do you know... how many universes there are, Jinx?

Oodles.

A hypothesis, then. You, Jinx—

Me?

—and all your variations throughout the multiverse are the nexus of a grander design. You are a singularity, around which our private cosmos spins.

Like an atom?

Or a cog.

Jinx drew back. Made a moue. Cogs are for killjoys.

The gentle shine of his eyes was undimmed. The fingertips tracing her skin left spectral swirls, fireworks balanced on their reflections in the water. 

Cogs are part of something greater than themselves. Their beauty lies in their connection to the rest. And their meaning lies in their motion. Without it, we would stagnate. Wither. Die.

Sheesh, that's depressing.

I mean to say that you have freed me from inertia, Jinx. With you... He stopped. Not bashfulness, because Viktor had no room left for that. Not here. All that stood out was the reverence: bleeding through as he cradled her head in his hands.  With you, there is the potential for infinite possibilities, each spinning off into another, and another after that. And I... Awe, spilling out in trembles.  I want to discover them. Discover all the possibilities there could be.

We will, Jinx promised, and twined her arms around him. We'll punch 'em out—Bam! Pow! Ka-ching!—until it's all just one big beautiful mess with Zaun's flag flying over it.

He'd laughed, as she'd known he would.

They stayed on that little island forever. Or between fractions of split-seconds. Whatever. Time wasn't time there. It was timeless. Hand-in-hand, they'd walked the mirrored shores and followed the seagrass bowing over dunes shaped like diamonds. They'd played tag through the night-blooming gardens, swinging under flowering archways, until their own laughter left them dizzed. They'd embraced in the coral caves, foreheads together, eyes locked and spirits resonating as they resurrected old pains and buried them there, together.

Later, dragging herself through the unmitigated ugliness of reality, Jinx would wish for eidetic memory. Wish she'd captured every ripple, every revelation, every rapture. Keep it catalogued somewhere for posterity.

But wishes are for wide-eyed dreamers.

Jinx was eyes-shut awake.

And because she was awake, she remembered enough. Enough for nostalgia. Enough for dreams.

Enough for hope.

Enough, but little else.

She remembered when they'd departed the silvered shores, leaving unmarked the sand where their feet had left prints, and the latticed starlight had safeguarded their secrets. The parting was inevitable; life was waiting for them beyond its bounds. Silco, and Vi, and Zaun. The consequences of Viktor's reckless error, and Jinx's swandive toward martyrdom.

The cost of perfection, writ in blood.

They'd joined once more, but it wasn't the death-defying anamnesis of before. It was easy-as-you-please, as Jinx opened herself to him and invited him to melt into the spaces between her atoms. Because he belonged there now; because this was home-away-from-home.

It would be, for the rest of their days.

And though the joy was a sacred flame, and Viktor's smile so, so sweet, it was a sorrowful sweetness.

Because Jinx knew, down deep, she was meant to be twined with another.  Another, with whom nothing was going to be same again. Her bond with Viktor was set, settled, deep in Jinx's matrix. Her quicksilver thoughts, filtered through Viktor's keen self-focus. His wisdom, transfigured by her volatility.

A mutuality that'd make the Void sing, if they traversed these dimensions again.

And yet...

And yet, Jinx wished for someone else. Wished with every fiber of herself. Because even if their orbits had spun out of sync, the scars were still strung like pearls between them, shining bright as the stars that'd made them for each other. Still calling out, back and forth: an endless song-of-call and response.

Ekko, Ekko, Ekko.

It’d always be the pair of them. Hand-to-hand; heart-to-heart. Building gizmos in the basement and racing across the rooftops, their laughter chasing after like shooting-stars.

She must've wept, or wailed, or shown some secret anguish. Because Viktor had paused to clasp her hands in his own.

I'm sorry, he'd told her. Truly. I wish—

She'd wished too, for a whole different outcome. For better odds, and safer bets. For a happily-ever-after that left you smiling to the last, not sobbing till your guts ached and your heart bled across the rainy cobblestones inches from your father’s corpse.

She'd wished so fucking bad.

But wishes, well. You know.

It's okay, Vik, she'd whispered back. I don't regret this.

No?

Not for a damn second. It's the shiniest thing that ever happened to me. A tiny grimace. Even if we did sorta cock it up on the other side.

He didn't laugh, as she knew he wouldn't. Only enfolded her close, as fiercely as he must've prayed for a good leg and a working pair of lungs as a boy.  Jinx held him back, twice as tight, knowing, somehow, that it would be the last time they could do so without boundaries. On the other side, the gentleness of him would recede from her synapses, leaving behind an imprint. An echo.

And not the Ekko who was always just one step away, forever reaching out his hand to catch her when she fell, or when she flew too high on the fumes of freedom and forgot how to live without hurting others or hurting herself.

How strange, to be held, yet hollowed out.

To be so close, yet so far from closure.

 Viktor's lips touched her forehead. They were one: the essence of themselves flowering into a breathless harmony. Yet there were tears standing in his eyes, unashamed.

If it were mine to give, he said. I'd let you stay here forever.

Psssh. Jinx nuzzled closer. No can do.

No?

Silly would shank ya.

Viktor said nothing. Just smiled. Just waited.

And Jinx, readying herself for the home stretch, nodded.

The last threads wove into one. And together, they plunged. Back through the membrane of creation, universes strobing and spinning out from underneath their feet. The cosmic strands rippled at their passing, each humming their own individual melody, each imparting their own secrets. Jinx breathed those melodies in. Hoarded those secrets for safekeeping. In another life—one where Vi kept her temper screwed on straight; where Sevika didn't pity her guts; where Silco...

Oh, Silco.

Jinx shut her eyes, and let the tears burn out. Shut her ears to the screaming chorus as they crossed the in-between realm. It sang out from all directions, filling the dark fabric between hers and Viktor's consciousness, trying to invade the stronghold their mindmade love had fused between themselves.

No dice.

Their bond lasted the distance. It outran the phantoms snapping at their heels, and the vortex yawning to swallow them. Viktor felt her pain and wrapped it in empathy; Jinx felt his fragility and fortified it with fearlessness.

That, at least, they could do, and well.

Together.

Merged, their spirits scaled the distance, carrying them out from the interdimensional fold, and back to the Now. Back to Zaun, with its pulsating neon and its insatiable hungers: the nexus of home and hell, where tragedies and triumphs marched to the mad drum of Progress.

Maybe, Jinx cracked, I'll write a book.

Oh?

The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Backalley Galaxy. It'll be a hoot!

Doubtless, replied Viktor, half-here, half-everywhere, but solid as an anchor as they made explosive landfall.

Together, they returned.

Together, they lived.

Together...

...in the med-bay, with its nauseatingly bright halogens, and the searing stink of disinfectant, and Silco's bottomless rage, and his fist slamming into Viktor's gut.

A strange pain, hot and prickling. It echoed inside Jinx. In tune with Viktor's shock.

Then: darkness.

[phoenix10km]

THERES SO MANY DYNAMICS.

Grian, a former watcher either trying to thwart their plans or helping them for some reason. Nobody knows he’s a watcher but it’s clear his power is growing the longer he’s in the games. Third through Limited he was on the same playing field as the rest, but when the portal opened in secret life? Something changed. Now he know what the watchers have planned, he’s able to help his Allies with the information.

Scott, the first to know about the watchers. And is clearly against them. Giving the watchers what they want is not an option to him; but can’t seem to consistently stop them from what they want. After his first boogey curse, she felt the dread and the fear that came with the thought of not securing that kill; not fulfilling the watchers hunger for negative emotions. That’s when he started hating whatever put them there a second time. Despite a faceless enemy he decided to purposely fail his second boogey curse defying the watchers; and when he wins because of that decision he finally gets to see his enemy. Throughout the series he tries to defy them, refusing to take Pearl on as his soulmate, trying to make an Honorable match of the final fight in limited. Refusing to die on anyone else’s terms in secret life.

Maryten, the only one that has some awareness of gods, and the only one brought to the brink of insanity in limited life. He knows their out there, all winners do. But they contacted him before he won; heard them before he won. They favor him, either as a play thing or they want to give him an important roll.

Scar is being pitted as a tragedy, or a villain. Never a hero. The watchers clearly like to push him to his limits. He was so.. happy in third life, fierce loyalty in grian, and they trusted each other so deeply. He didn’t know grian would change after he beat scar limp in the cactus ring. It first started with Grian tricking him and stealing one of his lives in last life. Then cheating on him in double life with big b and getting him killed. Then grian out right stabbing him in the back in limited life. The watchers were pushing scar to snap through grian; and finally in Secret life they gave him a chance to let all the hurt out, to be the villian. He took it. and in a twist, a universe where scar was never meant to win (I have my reasons to thing) grian of all people helped via a completely unrelated suicide mission to kill gem and the Scott’s, significantly weakening them. Now I’m wild life we are seeing them work through the issues, through the hurt and betrayal now that scar can see the influence of the watchers.

Jimmy, If Maryten is the watchers favorite play thing; Jimmy is their favorite toy to break. Time, and time, and time again Jimmy fell victim to a curse the watchers put on him. For him to always be the first to fall. He was supposed to always be their canary. A warning the end is near. A sign of the unavoidable disasters ahead. Feeling so hopeless until the watchers got to focused on scars villian arc; and like sand Jimmy barley slipped trough the watchers fingers. It gave him hope as Lizzie had fallen into the void, he realized there was a way out despite his demise not long after hers. Now, he’s carried that hope to wild life, praying that maybe he would not be the first; and while to watchers were upset about their slip of control in secret life, their gods, and oh boy did it boost their egos to have someone pray for their mercy, pray that they would spare his life just a bit longer. And they did, Jimmy is the first they’ve listened to; and maybe even had mercy on.

These are just my headcannons on certain relationships these characters have with the watchers. I know I didn’t mention two of the winners, mainly because I don’t see Pearl having a relationship with the watchers really, if anything maybe she sees them as cruel? I’d have to flesh it out more. As for cleo while I consider real life cannon story wise and count her as a winner, it’s tough to slot real life in. I think it’s a punishment for the players defying what the watchers wanted to happen in Secret life? But again it needs to be fleshed out more.

[tootiecakes234]

This TikTok inspired me😭

So you and Katsuki are doing this challenge where the two of you take turns placing cups on top of your heads and the other person has a soft ball they are using to knock off said cup (preferably without hitting your partner). One person standing and the other sitting.

“Ok so do you want to throw first or sit first” you asked him.

“I want to not fucking do this”, he was looking at you like he was already over it and you hadn’t even started.

“Well that wasn’t one of your options, so I guess you wanna sit first. That’s good cuz I wanna throw.”

He mumbled something under his breath but the only words you caught were crazy and breakup. Whatever.

He plopped himself down and you handed him the red solo cup to put on his head.

“Is it gonna fit over that hair of yours?”, you giggled at him.

He turned around to glare at you and you shut your mouth before he got up and left you here.

There were more grumbles while he tried to fit the cup evenly on his head.

“Ok let’s get this over with.”

You moved to get behind him. You have 3 balls which means you have 3 chances to knock the cup off.

“Alrighty, here we go”, you were more warning him as you got lined up to throw.

You throw the first one it doesn’t touch him or the cup. You see Katsuki shoulders shake .

“That was a practice round. I’m gonna hit it with this next one”, you said a matter of factly.

“Sure you will��, he didn’t have to be so damn smug.

You threw the next one and it smacked him in the back of the head.

There are daggers in his eyes when he turns around.

“What?! I’m trying! Your head is too big a target for the little c- wait wait. I’m sorry. I take it back. Please sit down.” You had to pull out the puppy dog eyes cuz he was already on his feet about to leave.

“Fucking focus. Ya only got one left. I can’t be a pro hero dating someone with 0aim. It’s embarrassing.”, he said as he sat back down and sat the cup back up.

“Ok. Ok. I got it.” You rally did your best this time but it ended up hitting him in the head again. “Damn”

“You have absolutely no hand eye coordination. I can’t believe you’ve survived this long”

“Well the year is 2023. I don’t have to go around aiming and firing at people asshole.” Now you were grumbling.

“My turn. Sit your ass down.”

You sat down and placed the cup on your head.

“Ready?”, you could hear the grin he was sporting right now.

“Kat please down smack me in the back of the head on purpose. I was really tr-woah!!”, you screamed out of shock more than anything. The cup had fallen to the ground before you could finish your sentence.

“Now that’s how it’s done” you turned around to see him smiling.

“Beginners luck. You still got 2 more balls.”

“Hell yea I do.”, chuckling bastard.

“Come on. And can you give me a heads up this time.”

“Fine. 3. 2. 1.” And again the cup was tumbling off your head. “See the key is to picture where you want the ball to go”

“Shut up and throw the next ball Mr. Know it all.”

Katsuki was good at everything he tried and yes he was a professional hero but that doesn’t mean he gets to be smug.

“3. 2. 1.” The intention this time was to make it a moving target so you moved your head slightly to the side at the last minute.

Please explain to me why the cup was on the ground and the ball had knocked it there.

Katsuki made you jump a little before he whispered “Nice try pretty girl, but ya gotta be quicker than that”

“I don’t wanna play anymore games with you. You suck.”

“Wait no, let’s go again. I kinda like it. You wanna put some money on it.”

But you were already in your room and slamming the door.

Your boyfriend really sucked.

*this man is a sore winner and I’m 100% sure he gloated the rest of the day. Making little sly ass comments.

[racingliners]

Long distance love confession for gewis? If you vibe with them 🫶🏻 - Jay

Hello!!! Sorry for taking so long with this, I had to let it marinate in my brain for a while until I landed on something that felt right. It's very rough an unedited but I hope you still enjoy it! 💚

love confessions writing prompts

George/Lewis, 1.8k, no warning apply

London in December was actually quite beautiful to George, packed streets of people doing their Christmas shopping aside. The strings of lights and sparkling Christmas trees made being out in the cold air worthwhile as George also went from shop to shop getting the last gifts he needed before making the trip down to Norfolk to spend the festive season with his family.

George let out a long sigh when he finally returned to his flat in Finchley. As convenient as it was to be able to take the tube home, the Northern line train was still on the unpleasant side of warm thanks to it being busier than a usual Tuesday. The one small privilege was that he’d been able to make the journey home without being recognised – the visual identity of F1’s newest race winner hadn’t made it into the consciousness of the general British public just yet.

He'd managed to set his various bags down next to the sofa and had turned to take the seven steps over to the kitchen to make himself a much needed cuppa when his phone rang from his pocket. George pulled it out quickly, assuming it was Aleix calling for his weekly Winter Break catch up or Cara once again asking George if he’d remembered to buy aftershave for their Dad.

But the caller ID just read ‘Lewis’ and George almost froze into place, his only movement blinking slowly at the rectangular screen in front of him.

2022 had been a strange year for George for a plethora of reasons. The new regulation cycle being one, and the W13 and all its various problem’s another. But the development of George and Lewis’ professional relationship had been the strangest of all, in that they both worked rather well together.

Truth be told George wouldn’t have blamed Lewis for not wanting to give George much past the basic professional curtesy with the past twelve months he’d gone through. And yet he was more than just welcome and respectful, he was kind to the point where George could tell from Lewis’ eyes that he meant it whenever he asked how George was, and they’d started to bounce off each other in the debriefs with the engineers over the last handful of races of the season.

And then there was the dinners. How before the first race of the year Lewis had suggested they get a table at a restaurant in Bahrain and take the time to get to know each other away from the buzz of the paddock or the factory. It then turned to a late lunch in Melbourne, an evening supper in Montreal, and it was at the 3am dinner in Singapore that George had finally realised that he’d been enjoying the time spent with Lewis far more than what a teammate should do.

Never meet your heroes, they say. George wished there was guidance for what to do when you’d fallen in love with them and they were now calling you at half past four in the afternoon on a random Tuesday in December.

Somehow George managed to move his thumb over to the green answer button before he so rudely sent Lewis to his voicemail.

“Lewis, hi!” George’s voice came out two octaves higher then normal, he almost didn’t recognise himself. “H-how’s Colorado?”

“Ack it’s fricking freezing! It’s like minus nine right now or something. I was gonna go out snowboarding but all the slopes are closed because it’s so foggy.” Lewis sounded less frustrated and more perplexed at the scene he was likely staring at out of the windows of his lodge near Aspen. He’d showed George a couple of pictures back in Abu Dhabi and it looked like one of the most perfect places on the planet.

“Ah, I don’t think it’s gotten above two degrees today.” The fact that British people were so good at talking about the weather no matter what a person’s personal circumstance was the sole reason why George was able to even hold a conversation. “Wait, what time is it for you over there?” His brain was sadly still too scrambled from the sheer disbelief of Lewis calling him for George to both remember what the time difference between London and Colorado was and do the maths.

“It’s just gone 9.30, I’m about to have breakfast.” His beloved Winter break pancakes no doubt. “I just wanted to call because… well I felt like I’d just brushed you off when you said goodbye at the factory yesterday and I just wanted to clear the air.”

“Oh,” George scrambled back through his memories from the past 24 hours and managed to pull that moment to the surface – when Lewis had almost ran out the factory doors at Brackley just before lunchtime and George had to shout for Lewis to hear his wishes for Lewis to have a good Christmas. “I just assumed you were in a rush to catch your flight, I wasn’t offended.”

Lewis let out a long sigh from the other end of the line that George almost felt it drift across the Atlantic ocean.

“Thank god, I couldn’t stop thinking about it on the flight over and I just… well. Given everything we’ve gone through this year I didn’t want to carry any hard feelings over to next year.”

“It’s the last thing I would get offended over, believe me.” George finally felt his shoulders relax and he even rolled his eyes. Yes, there were ways in which he and Lewis were very different, but there were just as many ways in which they were the same. “If you’d said fuck off to my face then that would have been a different story.”

Lewis immediately burst out laughing, George could perfectly picture his eyes crinkling shut and his shoulders shaking up and down while he pressed his free hand against his chest. George had to quickly bite down on his lip to get the image out of his head as he forced himself to lean against the counter.

“How’s your day been anyway mate?” Lewis asked, the final few notes of laughter drifting out of his voice as he spoke. George recounted his afternoon braving London’s shopping district as briefly as possible since Lewis definitely had more important things to be tending to, despite the fact that over the past few days George was starting to want nothing else than endless Tuesdays where he and Lewis talked about nothing over steaming cups of tea while Roscoe sat snoring at Lewis’ feet.

George quickly shook his head, he couldn’t allow himself to have that kind of image in his head. World champion megastars like Lewis didn’t fall in love with maiden Grand Prix winners like George.

“Well, congrats on surviving the tube during December, that’s a badge of honour in itself.” Lewis said not quite non-chalantly with a hint of a smile in his voice.

“Thank you! I’ll put it next to my Brazil trophy.” George grinned.

“Has it arrived yet?” Lewis was quick to ask.

“Yeah last week, it’s still in its box I haven’t figured out where to put it yet.” George huffed. Specifically the box was nestled next to his bedside table because putting it in the wardrobe out of the way felt like sacrilege despite the fact his flat didn’t have an office to safely store it in. “But that’s for future me to worry about I suppose.”

Lewis just hummed, not sounding like he was planning on hanging up any time soon. It was nice, but odd. Their phone calls had never really lasted this long before.

“I um…” George started, his eyes fixed on his shoes, but he couldn’t think of anything. “It’s good to hear from you, I’m glad you and Roscoe made it to the lodge safely.”

“You should have seen it last night when I got here, it’s so beautiful. I wish I’d had that huge navy scarf of yours for when I got off the plane though. It was so cold.”

George’s heart briefly lurched at the thought of Lewis remembering about George’s Winter scarf that he’d gotten for his last birthday. As Lewis had correctly remembered it was navy blue and made from thick cashmere – George’s parents had splurged on it as a ‘Happy first season at Mercedes gift’. He’d even worn it when he’d been out shopping since today was fairly cold by London standards.

“Well now I know what to get you for Secret Santa next year.” George somehow managed to quip. All half of his brain could think about was how good Lewis would look in navy cashmere.

“Yeah but now I know and you’ll also have to rig it so you get me, Shov will be so pissed off with you.”

“Even though you’d be getting a new scarf out of it?”

For the first time Lewis paused, and George wondered if he’d put his foot in it so badly that Lewis had hung up without a word.

“Lewis?” He asked quietly, only loud enough for the mug rack on his left to hear.

“George I-” Lewis started, then just as quickly stopped. George hadn’t completely ruined a perfectly normal conversation then. “I actually called because I needed to talk to you about something and… I did have time to talk about it with you at the factory but it wouldn’t have been the right place.”

“Oh.” George couldn’t help himself from saying as he felt half the air get knocked out his lungs.

“Excluding Brazil, this season’s been shit for so many reasons. But, despite that, I’ve still really enjoyed all the dinners we had this year. It’s been great getting to know you properly.”

“Yeah mate, me too.” George’s cheeks suddenly felt so warm that they must have been as red as a strawberry. “I’m glad that we were both able to make the time for them.”

“You’re a…” Lewis paused to take a breath. “Really great guy George. I just woke up this morning and realised why I was so worried about offending you because I think I like you a lot more than I should like a teammate and you’re in London and I’m in Colorado and-”

“I think I love you too Lewis.” George blurted out, lifting about five F1 cars worth of weight off his shoulders in the process. “You have no idea how much I want to be looking at snow and fog right now.”

A small moment of silence followed, which was eventually broken by George and Lewis slowly breaking out into relieved laughter.

“We’re going to have to have another dinner to talk about this you know.” George sighed, already beaming at the prospect.

“Well…” Lewis’ voice briefly trailed off, George could picture the small crease in his brow. “Your place or mine?”

[lululeighsworld]

Inspired by a post on the Heroes subreddit... What would you want from Gunter if he won CYL? (Forging Bonds, outfit concept, loadout, etc).

(Feel free to delete, thought it'd be a fun question if you have the interest though!)

THANK YOU FOR ASKING ANON <3 you've left me with quite the question to puzzle out. hopefully my brainstorming below makes for an interesting read!

(throwing this under a readmore because it became INCREDIBLY long. to anyone intrigued enough to read it all: enjoy the novel.)

so when I look at previous CYL winners, I see the following categories:

inspired by family members/other characters/places

ngl I cannot see FEH going this route unless they want to canonize where exactly in Nohr Gunter is from AS WELL AS what his previous family was like. and tbh I like his past remaining a sandbox so all his fans can create their own headcanons about what his family was like <3 I do think an alt inspired by Corrin would be cute, but tbh I'd rather if this was saved for something like an attuned hero.

inspired by past appearances or promotions

again, if they're gonna make a younger!Gunter alt, I'd rather if that was saved for the banner we get in April. a different class promotion DOES have some potential, so let's pocket this idea until we get through the rest of the options. and I'm not including Vallite King Gunter in the group of different class promotions; save that for the fallen banner, as he deserves!!

inspired by events post-game and/or hypothetical worlds

I'LL ADMIT, THIS HAS GOOD POTENTIAL THAT I CAN GET BEHIND. I'm a little picky when it comes to the kind of post-game/hypothetical world he'd originate from though. since Gunter either "retires quietly in the countryside" OR "disappears and is never seen again" I would want FEH to be careful with how they characterize a potential post-game alt. and when it comes to hypothetical worlds, I feel like you also gotta mind what ice you're stepping on, less you water down his character. let's consider this further below.

inspired by...the heroes base form?

gonna preemptively strike this one off the list, as we already have base Gunter and at this point in time, I'm not sure I can think of anything that I'd want for a brave alt which falls into this category.

inspired by ancestors

notably different than family members/places, which COULD be interesting. Gunter's not a noble and therefore not a direct descendant of the Dusk Dragon, but he has served as a knight for the descendants of the Dusk Dragon. the dusk dragon blood-bonding with humans.......Gunter being forced to accept a blood-bond......I think there's something there. maybe.

so Leigh, is there anything not covered by the above categories that you'd also want considered?

hmmmm......I think maybe the only thing I'd add would be 'inspired by a brand new class entirely' aka one that's not already in Fates, or possibly any of the FE games (though I won't begin to presume if that assumption is correct), and can be entirely unique to him (I think that'd be really special). I guess this sort of follows what they did with the brave alts for the 3H lords, but their classes were already in their base game, while Gunter doesn't have a unique class in Fates.

and so, after all of that, I can finally answer the question...

Gunter: Time-Honoured Knight

Imagine if you will a knight that's been decorated with the highest honour a member of royalty can bestow. I'm by no means an expert on the orders of chivalry so you'll have to excuse my lack of appropriate terminology. ANYWAYS, I'm envisioning more regal looking armour, maybe even inspired by the Dusk Dragon, that really accentuates the facts that 1) he was well-known and respected in the army and 2) he's finally getting commended for all the work he did for Nohr over the decades.

The hypothetical world I can see this alt coming from would be either CQ/RV, wherein King Xander sets out to right various wrongs that King Garon (or rather, Anankos, as he learns post game) committed. It'd be nice to see Gunter receive the recognition he deserves!! This sort of set-up calls to mind this bit from Chapter 7 of Revelation: "After being honored for valor in battle, I was granted an audience with King Garon." What if his Brave Alt was him finally getting to show-off said bravery that he exemplified?

Saying all of this, I still feel like they'd have to tread carefully to avoid watering down his character. I wouldn't want this sort of Brave Alt to negate what he does in Revelation; yes he was a traitor and nearly thwarted all the efforts of Corrin's army, but, and this is my personal interpretation, I don't think that needs to take away from his good efforts in the past, and how he returned to Corrin's ranks after he was freed. Fates is a story that explores the moral greyness of the world, and I think it'd be a brilliant step if a character like Gunter, who is a perfect example of this, got an alt where his past is honoured while his misdeeds are not washed away.

I am so sorry anon I am NOT the person to ask what I'd like for a loadout; I barely pay any attention to the skills FEH is implementing these days. high defense might be a given?? I'm not sure what else should follow with the theme I'm brainstorming. It might be cool to finally let him wield a sword, canonically (since in Fates he's known for his lance and in FEH he's know for his axe). Quite frankly it would be siiiiiiick as hell if he could alternate between weapons, given that he's being honoured for being a valourous example of a knight. Would FEH give someone like him such a meta-breaking kit? Probably not. But this is my hypothetical Brave Gunter alt post so I get to dream as big as I want. If you're still reading this far and have thoughts about his loadout, feel free to chime in, I'd love to hear it~

NOW AS FOR THE FORGING BONDS...Speaking from the angle I'm working with, Legendary Xander almost feels like a given. I always believed Gunter and Xander have an incredibly interesting yet unexplored dynamic given their different orbits around Garon. It would be fun to explore in this setting, especially where Xander is trying to make amends for the atrocities Garon committed. It'd be nice to include a version of Corrin, for that angle of "oh, so this was always who you were meant to be / who I was meant to be has never changed, my liege." And I think it'd be cute if he had a little moment with the other jagens congratulating him ;uu; None of them have yet to be honoured in such a way thus far!! It's a special moment for old guys like them!! They gotta give him some pats on the back!!

And I'm gonna call it there. When I initially started brainstorming my answer to this ask, I didn't imagine it would be so long X'D At the end of the day, when (not if!!) they give Gunter an alt, my two hopes are that they don't water down his character, or throw a wrench into his fans' headcanons. I just love him so much. Give him the respect he is due!!

[flower1622]

Vampire Lovers

Chapter 5

Batman arrives at Jon's apartment that used to be Dick's. He is on the balcony. He notices the door was open and that the lights were off. He enters and turns the lights on to look around for clues. Something catches his attention on the place next to the TV. He gets close and sees a little space where someone could have passed the finger on it to take a little of the dust. Batman realises it must have been Damian. But, Batman knows he can't take the DNA because he knows Damian only uses gloves. So, he continues taking a look around the place. He goes to the kitchen and turns the light on. He walks around it looking for something, but finds nothing. When he was about to go, he noticed something shining on the floor. He gets close and sees that it was a little piece of glass.

- Damian. - Bruce whispers and takes the little glass very carefully with him and leaves to meet Clark. 

Meanwhile with Clark:

Superman arrives at Conner's apartment. He notices that the balcony door was open. He enters and notices that the place was pretty clean, but Clark knows that Ma always reminds Conner to clean his apartment. He looks around the place and finds a notebook on the floor. He takes it and looks at the writing. He doesn't think twice and leaves.

Clark arrived at Jon's rooftop where Batman was waiting for him. He lands on the floor and gets close to him.

- So, did you find something? - Superman asks staring at Bruce, who just opens his hand. Superman doesn't understand and Batman only stares at him as if he was ordering Superman to use his x-ray vision. So, Superman uses it and sees a piece of glass on Batman's hand. He looks at Batman.

- My son probably attacked yours from behind with green kryptonite, making Jon pass out and the glass fall on the floor. But, you? Any luck? - Batman asks with his serious voice. Superman only shakes his head.

- Unfortunately, no. Only a notebook with a writing that it's not Conner's, probably from Tim maybe? - Superman asks and Batman nods his head. Superman sighs. 

-  We need to find them and stop... - Batman stops talking because he feels the presence of someone else. Both Superman and Batman stare at each other. They know they were being spied. When they were about to say something, they get attacked, making both fall on the floor. It was a mini bomb that spread a toxin making superman and batman sleepy.

- Well...well, what do we have here? - Superman and Batman hear a voice coming towards them. Batman recognizes as Damian's. Then, a shadow appears next to Damian. It was Tim.

- Damian? Tim? - Batman asks still sleepy. Both only give dark smirks at him.

- Yeah. Did you like our new looks? - Damian and Tim showed Batman that they weren't using the robin costumes anymore. They were just themselves without mask and both were wearing black clothes and a black leather jacket. Batman only shakes his head.

- You wanted us to find you. You knew we would be here - Batman only says and tries to glare at his 'sons'.

- Wow, I guess we have a winner here! - Tim says sarcastically and gets close to the heroes on the floor.

- Tim? Damian? Where are Jon and Conner? - Superman asks weak on the floor, trying to keep himself awake.

- You mean us? - A voice asks and two new shadows appear. They get close to the fallen heroes. 

- Jon? Conner? - Superman asks confused while he looks at his son and his clone. Both were pale, had red eyes, fangs and were wearing black clothes with a black leather jacket. Batman only looks serious at them.

- Hey, dad! - Jon says with a dark smile making Superman feel a little scared of his own son. Other shadows appear too and get close to them. All of them also had pale skin, red eyes, fangs and were wearing black clothes. 

- Dick, Jason, Barbara, Supergirl, Cassandra, Stephanie, Alfred and Duke? You both turned them into monsters too!- Batman exclaims while he looks pissed at Damian and Tim.

- Of course! What did you expect, old man?! - Damian asks angry at Batman, who only grows at him. Batman tries to get his secret weapon discreetly, but Dick is faster and holds his arm with so much strength that makes Batman wince a little bit. 

- Don't worry, Batman! The transformation only hurts a little bit in the beginning, but then you will see the difference. You will feel so much better. I promise! - Dick says and punches Batman pretty hard that he passes out. Jon gets close to his father on the floor, who was looking at Batman passed out next to him.

- It's okay, dad! Everything is gonna be okay. You won't need to get afraid of kryptonites anymore! - Jon says with a big smile while he walks towards his father. 

- Jon, no. Please! - Superman begs, still pretty weak. Jon only touches his cheek.

- Everything is gonna be okay. I promise! - Jon says and sprays green kryptonite on Superman's face, making the hero pass out on the floor too.

- We almost have our family completed! - Dick says with a smile while he puts his hands on his hips.  The others, except Jason who was staring at a passed out Bruce on the floor, look at Dick confused.

- Almost? - Damian asks curious and Dick only nods his head. When he was about to answer Damian's question,  Jason interrupts.

- Yeah, little demon! Or do you think these two would let their women go? - Jason says and smirks. The others only stare at the fallen heroes on the floor.

'Yes! I can't wait to turn mom into one of us too' - Jon thinks and gives a dark smirk to his passed out father.

[hel-phoenyx]

22) Competing

There's people that can go all their life without a competition. Not even harmless challenges or rivalry. Just perfectly happy living with others.

I envy those people.

My life has always been a competition. Against other nobility, against our ancestors, against the current sovereign, against my fucking family, I am always competing, and I am losing.

I remember the first time I went to the castle. I was twenty-four, a two-year-old in my arms, and neither of us had ever seen the inside of the king's abode, even though we were, ourselves, nobility. It was both because the Laangfisk didn't want us here, and because my parents cast me aside. The moment my brother was born and I lost the competition.

Yet I went in, because the king invited me. And here he was, under the throne, over him looming a big painting of Odin II. The one who killed my grandfather.

I know mom never forgave him. It took me years to understand why. She saw. She tasted the blood. She watched as his head fall of and as the killer stripped us of our titles. He won the competition. An ages long competition between two branches of the royal family now so far in blood that we can't even call ourselves relatives.

I looked upon that portrait and remembered the one of the defeated are now covered with a curtain.

He was on the throne and next to him was my little brother, the bane of my existence. The one that won the competition by being born. He open his eyes and cried and the seastorm marked my loss, for I am powerless.

My defeat cast me aside as I wasn't even aware there was a game.

And yet, he lost. He lost, too, because he isn't on this throne. He should be. We should be. We should be kings and queens and fighters and heroes and not standing idly in the shame of the defeat.

He lost to the one that invited me in this castle and is now extending a hand to me, the eternal loser.

"Kriss, was it ? It is nice to meet you."

Is it a ploy ? Do you want to humiliate me like your mother humiliated mine ? Do you want to kill me like your grandfather killed mine ? Do you want another tamed puppy next to you like the one who won't even look me in the eyes ?

Why are you extending your hand ?

What are you waiting for ?

Say something.

S̶̹͐ã̵͇͙̮ÿ̷͍͉̞́̃ ̴̝̳̞̗̑̆̅͠s̶̖̥͊̋̈́͐ͅo̸̼͇͒̀͝m̵̡͖͊ę̶̟̤̱͑̓̽t̵̬̄̐̏̾h̶̜̀͛͒͘į̸̠̖̅̍͆͒n̶̢̢͖̈́̈́͑g̴̟̯̓̎͜ ̴̡̣̣̞̆!̷̫̒!̴̮̭͍̰͘!̸͔̇̈́͠

My name is Kriss Haralsdottir and once, a long time ago, far before I was born, it was Kriss af Mundir. But losers don't deserve names. losers don't deserve legacy. Losers can't even remember they, too, descended of Hrotheim IX, the hero of the Coast, your hero.

Losers can't be apparented to winners.

My son is in my arms. My precious, darling, fatherless son. His father lost to you, too, and now I've lost him.

I can't stand being in front of the winner.

"It is.... Nice to meet you too, your Majesty."

Loss tastes sour on my tongue.

I can't bear to look at him no longer. So I look at Tyrfing. Look at the defeated gleam in his eyes.

He's happy to be there and yet he knows, he knows he betrayed everyone's expectations. He knows mom raised a winner, he knows mom raised a hero, a weapon, and yet he lost, the hero has fallen and the weapon is rusty. I've hated him all my life for his gifts, for how everything seemed to look so easy for him, magic, fighting, charm, relationships, he had everything and yet he failed.

How can you still live with that weight ?

How do you endure the path of the loser when you're so used to winning ?

I restrain a chuckle, sour and bitter.

At least I was used to defeat.

[hiemaldesirae]

The thing about your fallen angel Vox au is wouldn’t Vox forget about Alastor when she gets to heaven and if she does for about her would she get her memory back when she gets to hell

oh, this thing. well, im glad you asked this nonny bc i feel like i should probably address it.

so, correct me if im wrong since i havent actually watched hb aside from the music videos, but we dont know if winners forget about their lives when they get to heaven, and it doesnt make sense to me that they would personally. i know that this theory is based off of winners not necessarily knowing/showing any care for what happens to those in hell, but there is a plethora of other reasons that could be- including, most notably, the fact that they are denizens of heaven, where only the uppermost angels get the intel of what happens in hell.

it could make for good angst, but i personally dont think that the idea of heaven erasing ones memories fits even in canonical context. dont get me wrong, i LOVE a good amnesia au but if it doesnt make sense to me theres only so much i can let slide in the name of my self indulgence 🤧

and also just generally.... those two were so obsessed with each other in life that if vox did forget about al, it would probably happen similarly to percy/annabeths separation in heroes of olympus: though he forgot about annabeth, there was still a part of him that clung onto her "memory" in his subconscious. i imagine thatd be more or less what happens with vox, and perhaps eventually she'd just lose the battle with her curiosity and plummet down

[ladyazurith]

Hi! How are you? I saw the story giveaway you’re doing and thought I’d like to enter!

I’m a vil lover first and foremost lol, he’s my special little guy, and my biggest gripe is that. Not that many people can actually write him well imo? Like! They don’t do him Justice! They fall for the facade!!! They have fallen into the trap and it’s actually smth that happens to Carter’s character a lot too!!I wanted to try my own hand but kept on getting lost amongst bee hyperfixations so they’ve been put on hold. And then I saw this!!!!!

CaterVil is actually a newer ship for me, and I’ve never read any fics before but it was while I was perusing the tags that I came across ur blog. Gonna read your fics next lol but I thought I’d jump on the fic giveaway first lest I forget.

Anyways, my prompt was vil working on the music aspect of his career—(pop star vil lives in my head rent free I truly believe this man is triple threat material, I mean absolutely beautiful?? Come ON!!but if u don’t wanna explore that part, than maybe he’s trying for a role of some hero in a movie musical? Or smth idk) and he’s trying to write some original love songs, but he’s struggling cause he wants it to be authentic but he’s never BEEN in love before tho he’s played at it convincingly. So he asks cater for help writing a song. And cater HAS love songs ABOUT vil. And it’s ironic bc like vil knows caters got these love songs and they’re so raw and real but at the same time believes caters feelings for him are fake. When he finds out these songs are abt him oh my GODDDDDD. Culminates in vil succeeding at writing love songs. And they’re abt CATER.

Yeah okay I was listening to I want to write you a song by 1D when I was struck by this 😭😭😭

I feel kind of lucky in a way myself. I just made my random selection by Dice Roll and you were the winner. I had several different entries but not many with my favorite ship. Since you posted this anonymously; and I have no way to know who actually sent me this, I will go ahead and post the story publicly on Ao3 tagged as the contest winner, with a link to Tumblr. I hope you enjoy it Anon.

[kingdoms-and-empires]

Heey, sorry if this kind of question is not very related with your if and you can ignore it if you want, but i’d like to start writing and im not sure if CoG is a good place for it (considering all the drama going on lol) or it’s better doing it with Twine on Itch.io, i mean i love the community of CoG in comparison on Itch.io (cause the way people can interact its very limited) and the people there usually tried to help, but I think Twine can be used in a more imaginative way, the saves you can keep in your desktop etc (and you dont need to put up with some people with power on CoG) sorry, you are a writer I admire a lot so I thought i could ask you about it, if its not a bother, so my questions are:

why did you choose dashingdon over twine? And what do you think is better for amateurs?

Oh nice If you are starting to write, you'll probably be heading towards Hosted Games. Contrary to what people may think due to recent activities lol https://www.reddit.com/r/IFHub/

I actually think that Hosted Games is a great way to put your foot in the door. It'll look good in a resume if you really wanna get into writing as a career.

The idea is, Choice of Games wantes to let amateur writers create small stories that the company would host (ie Hosted Games), most times at a loss, so they could get experience writing. In the literary world, it's straight up demoralizing to try and get published, but Hosted Games makes it easy.

Even with all the recent drama surrounding the company, Hosted Games offers a market, a forums that can get you beta testers, an easy engine to code with, and brand recognition. If you want experience, want to do it as a hobby, or just see if you got the chops for writing Interactive Fiction, Hosted Games is a great place to do it.

If you want monetary gain, you're gonna be disappointed. The contract with Hosted Games is 75% to the company, 25% to you for earnings. You get limited to no help from the company while you make it, since the expectation is that you'll use the forums to beta test and polish your product. Because we have to remember...Hosted Games was made for lil titles that were usually 50k-250k words in length. The behemoths like Fallen Hero, Zombie Exodus, The Golden Rose, and Lords of Infinity that are over 1 million in terms of word count, was not in the mind of the company when creating Hosted Games.

Are they happy about it? Why of course! So are the readers. The quality of writing and length of titles are becoming better and longer as time goes on. More and more titles raise the bar, and more and more titles try to meet that bar and hopefully surpass it.

So if you want to succeed monetarily, ya gotta make bigger titles that honestly would be award winners if this were a contest of Interactive Fiction in the past. But, Hosted Games also has an interesting "partner" in all this.

Patreon.

If you create a popular title that people like, they may choose to support you financially to help you keep writing! There are multiple authors who work with Hosted Games that make very good money from Patreon and KoFi. Hosted Games asks (demands) that you publicly release your patreon demo after a certain amount of time. I dont remember if its 2 weeks or 4. I usually do 1 week cause i have an ego and like to see people talking about my game lol. They also have another deal that lets you keep the demo behind a paywall, but you have to give 25% of all your patreon earnings to them in exchange. You asked me if either Twine or Hosted Games was better for amateurs. I say Hosted Games. Build yourself a reputation, maybe even publish a game to get experience with that side of the business, and if you do well enough and have a following, go to Twine for a game and try to self publish and cash in. You may even be invited to Choice of Games instead of Hosted Games if you prove yourself to be a good writer.

I really hope this helps you and anyone else!

[merryfortune]

 aurora's were once called fairy lights

Written for the Winter Holiday Bingo

Prompts provided by @sweetspicybingo

Prompt: Fairy Lights

Title: aurora's were once called fairy lights

Ship: Peony/Sharena 

Fandom: Fire Emblem Heroes 

Rating: T

Word Count: 1,278

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, Love Confessions, Winter, Happy New Year

  The air was cool and crisp, glistening with the magic of not as of yet fallen snowflakes but it was close. So close. Sharena could practically feel them sparkle on the tip of her nose as she snuggled in close to Peony’s side. Her companion was providing some much needed warmth in the cold. Not just physically but emotionally, too.

   It had been… another long year of festivals and fighting, of winners and victors. It was exhausting but they had made it to the other side of it. Amazingly. Somehow. It was worth it though as every day, hard won as they were, brought them closer to the miracle of everlasting peace throughout all the realms, all the worlds.

   “Thank you for inviting me out here, Peony.” Sharena said as she closed her eyes.

   She continued to lean in against Peony’s form and huddled under the thick wads of shiny silk which their Hoshido kimonos were made up of. They weren’t just stylish, they were fully practical for the weather – and for fighting, too, which was another nice, added bonus, 

   Sharena sighed sleepily. Another few more minutes, she had to be awake for a few more minutes. That’s what she told herself. She wanted to see as midnight became the morning of a fresh dawn and a new year. She might even get to see that snow that she was looking forward to. 

   For now, she was just about to fall asleep and do none of those things. Especially since Peony’s shoulder made for such a lovely pillow. Even if it was a bit bony but hidden under her warm clothes, it was as soft as the most elegant goose feather bed in all of the Askr Castle

   “My pleasure.” Peony replied as she glanced down, adoringly, at Sharena. “Its such a pretty sight. Of course I had to share it with my best friend. If only she was awake to see it.”

   Peony gave a jostle and so much for her shoulder being a comfortable pillow. Sharena laughed as she was shimmied off Peony. Her eyes fluttered open and she changed how she sat. She wasn’t quite as well versed as kneeling in kimonos like the Hoshido royals – and other folks summoned from Hoshido – so she was sitting cross-legged. Though now, Sharena brought her knees up to under her chin and folded in on herself. That gave her plenty of extra warmth, too.

   She smiled as she looked up at the sky.

   “Such a pretty sight” didn’t begin to describe what Sharena was looking at from beside Peony.

   The sky above was magnificent. Gorgeous. Beautiful. Absolutely glorious. There were so many words for this marvel and yet every single one proved insufficient the more Sharena stared at the night sky.

   It was hung with a sleepy mystique from low-lying, grey clouds which were so close to blooming with snow. However, beyond those clouds like the furred hem of a noblewoman’s ball gown, the dim of the night was hale and full of heart rather than doom and gloom. It felt like a good omen to come regarding the next year ahead, of which there was not much time between that future and the current present. The stars – in soft, dulcet tones of white and blue - glimmered softly in the distance ever so far, far away like the heavens. And most peculiar and beautiful of all was this strange ribbon of light that flickered and played: the illusory and ever so elusive aurora. 

   Oh, it was truly a wonder to behold. Sharena felt privileged to watch the stars and clouds and the aurora play in the night sky. 

   Funnily enough, given who was accompanying her on this dewy hill, to the older Askr generation, aurora's were once called fairy lights. For good reason, Sharena could possibly guarantee as there was another sight, which captured Sharena’s attention and enthralled her. One much closer to her than the elements of the night sky. It twitched and flicked in the corner of her eye, right beside her. She thought it would be impolite to stare, especially when Peony was just as enraptured as she was with what was high above them but Sharena couldn’t help herself.

   She stole a glance following that first glimpse and her breath was magicked away, not even turning into a mist of condensation upon her exhale. Peony’s wings were utterly splendid, turning into a kaleidoscope as they caught and filtered with the starlight. They, too, glimmered in time with the aurora. Sharena’s demure glances turned to staring as she had to make sure that it wasn't her imagination bit no. The rhythm that Peony’s wings flicked to was the very same as the aurora's and for it, Sharena was mesmerised.

   She lost all sense of decorum as she became entranced and it didn't take long for Peony to notice.

   Peony laughed awkwardly, “Am I really that interesting?”

   “Yes!” Sharena enthusiastically replied. Then her face went bright red as she realised what she had said.

   Though the shock was shared. Peony smiled, the tips of her pointed ears tinged pink as she gracefully accepted such a heartfelt compliment. As loud and bombastic as it was. 

   “I, um, think you're really pretty.” Sharena continued, muddling through her words and her feelings. “I can't help but stare, you are so beautiful and I like you a lot. Even more than the scenery here with you.”

   “I like you too, Sharena.” Peony replied, light hearted and jolly.

   But Sharena frowned.

   Sharena was a very affectionate girl. She was very free with it, be it through words or gestures, Sharena was never afraid to show the profound depths of her friendship with people. Especially Peony. They were akin to bosom buddies. Not once did Sharena ever think that her nature would ever hinder the expression of her feelings.

   It was now or never and what a beautiful now it was. Just before the New Year, in front of this gorgeous scenery, when it was just them together. Sharena resolved to clarify and her seriousness came across causing Peony to pause.

   “No, Peony, I like you.” Sharena tried again. “I like-like you.”

   Peony was stunned to silence but her expression was elated. The tension which occurred between them as Peony savoured the feeling of being confessed to and Sharena awaited a reply, boldly hoping for the best. Her lips parted in a determined way and then, just as Peony mustered a reply, they were both distracted by a slight change in weather. The temperature dropped a few more degrees and they felt goosebumps on their arms under the sleeves of their kimono.

   The cold air swirled around them and the tension between them diffused as it finally happened. The first snowflake descended from the clouds in a lazy swirl. Both Sharena and Peony looked up to watch as it sauntered vaguely downwards. A smile adorned both their faces as they enjoyed the light snowfall. More snowflakes began to fall also, only to land on their heads or around them like jewels.

   Then Peony lowered her head, smiling from ear to ear, “I like-like you, too.” She confessed. 

   “Aah, I'm so glad,” Sharena exclaimed, “I've wanted to tell you for a while.” She sighed contentedly and her chest slumped forward on the exhale. Her shoulders slackened also.

   “I can tell.” Peony replied.

   Peony shuffled inwards and this time, she leaned into Sharena’s side. Sharena’s heart skipped a beat as gladness filled her entirely. Peony closed her eyes, her lashes fluttering and her wings flitting, casting prismatic lights, as she added one last thing to their conversation.

   “Also, Sharena,” Peony whispered, “happy new year.”

[bongaboi]

Barcelona: 2024 UEFA Women's Champions League Winners

Second-half strikes from Aitana Bonmatí and Alexia Putellas won Barcelona their third UEFA Women's Champions League title in four years as they beat Lyon 2-0 in front of over 50,000 supporters at San Mamés Stadium in Bilbao.

Prior to this encounter, Lyon had defeated Barcelona in all four previous matches between the teams, including the 2019 and 2022 finals.

But it was a case of fifth time lucky for Jonatan Giráldez's team as the holders asserted their recent dominance in this competition with an assured performance on Spanish soil, spearheaded by the brilliant Bonmatí, who once again proved to be the difference-maker.

It was Barça who started on the front foot, and Caroline Graham Hansen set up Salma Paralluelo early on following a mazy run, only for the Spanish forward's effort to be well saved by Lyon goalkeeper Christiane Endler.

Despite Giráldez's team enjoying the majority of possession, OL remained a threat, and Barça defender Lucy Bronze was fortunate to see her header skim off her own crossbar from a corner.

Just before the interval, Graham Hansen did brilliantly to burst into the box, but she could only drag a shot just wide from a tight angle to ensure there would be no first-half breakthrough as a tight, evenly matched period ended level.

Lyon captain Wendie Renard, playing in her 11th Women's Champions League final, had the first clear chance after the break, though she could only scoop her shot over the bar after the ball had fallen kindly for her in the box.

It was a case of cometh the hour, cometh the hero for Barcelona, as Mariona Caldentey's clever pass set away Bonmatí down the left in the 63rd minute, and the No14's dinked effort beat Endler via a deflection to spark delirium among the majority of the crowd.

Lyon pushed for a response, and the competition's top scorer for this season, Kadidiatou Diani, went close with a curling effort narrowly over the bar.

In the closing stages, however, substitute Putellas put the gloss on the victory with a wonderful crashing finish, and Barça celebrated joyously with their outgoing coach Giráldez as they earned a fourth trophy in what has been another sensational campaign.

Visa Player of the Match: Aitana Bonmatí (Barcelona) "Influenced the game all over the pitch in and out of possession. High progressive passes, high ball recoveries and scored a great goal." UEFA Technical Observer panel

Graham Hunter, Barcelona reporter So much of the talk from Barcelona's staff and players leading up to this final was about "maturing", "managing matches better" and "learning from bitter defeat". All those things needed to be true here. The finalists were so well matched, so full of tactical discipline and cleverness. It meant that before the twinkle-toed brilliance of Bonmatí could make its wonderful impact, there needed to be patience, calm and cold-blooded control, all leading up to an eruption of talent. Then an eruption of joy.

Vanessa Tomaszewski, Lyon reporter In the first half, Lyon struggled with Barcelona's possession. Despite creating opportunities, the French side made technical errors and lost possession easily. After the break, Bonmatí capitalised on Lyon's defensive gaps to score and Lyon failed to regain control, with wider gaps appearing in their defence. Putellas sealed the victory in the final minutes as, despite their best efforts, Lyon tasted defeat in a stadium dominated by Barcelona supporters.

Jonatan Giráldez, Barcelona coach: "It was an incredible game. I am really happy, and it's one of the best days of my life, for sure. We did an amazing job. I am very proud of all of them. When I decided in December to leave at the end of the season, people thought the team's performances might dip. We showed that wasn't the case today. An amazing performance, and a deserved victory."

Lucy Bronze, Barcelona defender: "We knew we needed to be a club that made history. It's not easy, it's hard to win it once, but to do it back to back, Lyon showed how difficult it is. This team's finally done that. I think we go down in history as one of the best teams in Europe."

Sonia Bompastor, Lyon coach: The disappointment is great, and losing a final is very hard, but Barça played a great game. Our lack of offensive efficiency has cost us, but I will need more time to analyse it. Congratulations to Barcelona on winning this final. They're a great team. We would have needed to play a perfect game to win but, above all, we should have been more efficient in attack in order to get a better result."

Daniëlle van de Donk, Lyon midfielder: "I'm very emotional. Nobody likes to lose a final and we were here to win it. It's a shame we didn't create enough. Barcelona deserved the win, but I'm proud of my team; we gave it our all. I wish we could have pressed them a bit more, as I think that could have made a difference."

Key stats Barcelona have become only the fourth club to successfully defend the title after Umeå (in 2004), Lyon (in 2012, 2017, 2018, 2019 and 2020) and Wolfsburg (in 2014). The Spanish side's third European crown leaves them behind only Lyon (eight) and Frankfurt (four). Bonmatí scored for the second time in a Champions League final, after also netting in the 2021 win against Chelsea. Putellas struck in her third Champions League final, following goals in the 2021 and 2022 editions. Barcelona have become the first Spanish women's side to claim a quadruple, having also won the league, Spanish Cup and Spanish Super Cup this season. Lyon's Kadidiatou Diani finished as the competition's top scorer this season with eight goals. Wendie Renard has played a part in all Lyon's 11 finals. She has been captain for seven of them. Line-ups Barcelona: Coll; Bronze, Paredes, Engen, Rolfö (Batlle 67); Bonmatí, Walsh (Putellas 90+2), Guijarro; Graham Hansen, Paralluelo (Brugts 85), Caldentey (Pina 90+2)

Lyon: Endler; Carpenter, Renard, Gilles (Becho 81), Bacha; Horan, Egurrola, Van de Donk (Hegerberg 81); Diani, Dumornay, Cascarino (Majri 63)

Roll of honour: Finals

UEFA Women's Champions League: 2024 (Bilbao): Barcelona 2-0 Lyon 2023 (Eindhoven): Barcelona 3-2 Wolfsburg 2022 (Turin): Lyon 3-1 Barcelona 2021 (Gothenburg): Barcelona 4-0 Chelsea 2020 (San Sebastián): Lyon 3-1 Wolfsburg 2019 (Budapest): Lyon 4-1 Barcelona 2018 (Kyiv): Lyon 4-1aet Wolfsburg 2017 (Cardiff): Lyon 0-0aet, 7-6pens Paris Saint-Germain 2016 (Reggio Emilia): Lyon 1-1aet, 4-3pens Wolfsburg 2015 (Berlin): Frankfurt 2-1 Paris Saint-Germain 2014 (Lisbon): Wolfsburg 4-3 Tyresö 2013 (London): Wolfsburg 1-0 Lyon 2012 (Munich): Lyon 2-0 FFC Frankfurt 2011 (London): Lyon 2-0 Turbine Potsdam 2010 (Madrid): Turbine Potsdam 0-0aet, 7-6pens Lyon

UEFA Women's Cup: Two-legged finals 2009: Duisburg 6-0/1-1: agg 7-1 Zvezda-2005 2008: Frankfurt 1-1/3-2: agg 4-3 Umeå 2007: Arsenal 1-0/0-0: agg 1-0 Umeå 2006: Frankfurt 4-0/3-2: agg 7-2 Turbine Potsdam 2005: Turbine Potsdam 2-0/3-1: agg 5-1 Djurgården 2004: Umeå 3-0/5-0: agg 8-0 Frankfurt 2003: Umeå 4-1/3-0: agg 7-1 Fortuna Hjørring One-off final 2002 (Frankfurt): Frankfurt 2-0 Umeå

[xxxtyty]

[7:07:27 PM] <Rockhard> Well, well, well. Eliza the bitchslut.

[7:08:29 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> Despite being in chains, I try to keep some dignity and hold my head and set my jaw as your guards lead me into the room, flanking me on either side and holding my chains tight. My clothes of fine silk were a little torn and distressed in the scuffle, but it pulls against my curves and accentuates me more than it did before. I glare at you.

[7:09:41 PM] <Rockhard> Aww, why the sour face? *I burst out laughing*

[7:10:30 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I blush, looking around, terrified. 

[7:11:39 PM] <Rockhard> I stand up and walk over "Cat got your tongue? Why so quiet?" I grin in your face

[7:13:58 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> “What am i doing here?” I ask softly. 

[7:15:31 PM] <Rockhard> "You know the rules of war: the winner gets the kingdom AND the princess. Surely you know this?" Input my finger under your chin and raise your eyes to lock on to mine

[7:16:58 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I bite my tongue, trying to pull away. “I will never be loyal to your kingdom. Please make my death swift.”

[7:17:47 PM] <Rockhard> "Death? Ha! You truly believe I will waste a face and body like yours on an execution?"

[7:19:05 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> “…body like mine.?” I repeat slowly, eyes growing wide as I try to pull away from you. “No… no!”

[7:21:29 PM] <Rockhard> "Its so cute that you think you get a choice. Guards! Take her to my chamber and strap her down tight!"

[7:22:25 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> They are strong and I look like a child having a tantrum as they drag me away, fallen so far from royalty. 

[7:23:48 PM] <Rockhard> Minutes later you hear my footsteps approach "... and I am not to be disturbed for the next hour!" The door opens as I stride in, only pausing to look you up and down

[7:27:19 PM] <Rockhard> "Well well, finally some alone time"

[7:27:27 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I was strapped tight like you said, unable to move as I glance up at you in fear, begging you silently to leave me be. 

[7:29:02 PM] <Rockhard> "How is your kingdom now? Where are those heroes to save your pretty ass now?" I send a sharp spank across your undefended cheeks

[7:30:06 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I yelp, starting to cry silently, tears streaming down my face. “No… no no…” I repeat quietly. 

[7:31:13 PM] <Rockhard> I pull on your nipples and pull my face right up to yours. "They are nowhere. You are mine now!"

[7:32:26 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> My nipples grow hard to the touch, and I try to pull away but the bindings tightly kept me vulnerable and open for you

[7:33:06 PM] <Rockhard> "Don't pretend you don't like this, slut!"

[7:34:04 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> “I am not a common whore!” I retort sharply. 

[7:35:04 PM] <Rockhard> "Your hard nipples tell a different story" I reach back and slap your ass again, still tugging your nips

[7:35:54 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> “I cant… that’s not me! Please!” I cry out, the twisting and tugging making me sensitive. 

[7:37:10 PM] <Rockhard> My grin widens "We'll see" giving your nipples one final tug before heading behind you. You hear rustling of clothes and a belt buckle hitting the floor

[7:38:40 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I try to turn to see what you are doing, to no success. “What are you… what..”

[7:40:09 PM] <Rockhard> You feel a big throbbing rod enter your tight pussy

[7:41:45 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I cry out, piercing my virgin hole and pushing against my tight walls 

[7:42:50 PM] <Rockhard> "Mmmmmm my gosh, they weren't lying when they said you were a virgin. No princess around here is a virgin so I didn't believe it"

[7:45:14 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I try to cry out again, my pussy starting to moisten at your attention. 

[7:46:14 PM] <Rockhard> "Oh yes, your tight pussy likes my visit!" I begin to thrust deep and rhythmically

[7:47:42 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> The guards outside can hear my desperate pleas for help, but they ignore it, instead letting it turn them on. 

[7:48:53 PM] <Rockhard> "Thats it, beg for help! Beg like the desperate whore you are! You know you like this!"

[7:52:44 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> “I am not your whore!” I cry out between thrusts, crying. “Stop!”

[7:54:01 PM] <Rockhard> I spank your ass and squeeze it firmly as I thrust harder "Its so cute that you think what you say matters"

[7:56:35 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> “You’re evil,” I sob, feeling my pussy dripping from your attention and starting to drip to the stone floor. 

[7:57:42 PM] <Rockhard> "Evil is a matter of perspective, sweetie, and your dripping pussy seems to disagree with your words" I speed up and rail you harder

[8:00:44 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I gasp with each desperate thrust, shaking my head and continuing to protest as my pussy milks you over and over, pulsing subconsciously. 

[8:01:19 PM] <Rockhard> "Keep moaning, whore, it makes me want to go harder"

[8:09:00 PM] <Rockhard> "Are you ready to take my cum, slut?"

[8:10:44 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I Shake my head desperately. “Not inside me!! No!!”

[8:11:24 PM] <Rockhard> "Oh yes!" After a few more pumps you feel jets of cum spew inside you

[8:13:04 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> They burst past my cervix and into my womb, inseminating me deeply and completely, no hope of infertility. “Mmmmmm…” I whimper, your hard dick still streaming. 

[8:14:32 PM] <Rockhard> I thrust a couple more times, ensuring my balls fully empty into your womb. "How much fun was that, slut?"

[8:15:58 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> “I’m… not… your slut..”. I manage to gasp out. I panted as my horomones pulsed through me, soaking you inside me. 

[8:18:11 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> Making me yours. 

[8:18:44 PM] <Rockhard> "I don't think your body and mind are in agreement. Do you want to fo again?"

[8:20:47 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> “No!” I cry out desperately. “I’m not your slut! Stop!”

[8:22:38 PM] <Rockhard> "You are mine now, I will cum inside you as often as I please. You are my breed slut for as long as I wish you to be." I say this as I massage your clit

[8:23:35 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I start to whimper at the sensation, my body continuing to soak up every potent drop of your cum. “I… mmm… stop…”

[8:24:43 PM] <Rockhard> I keep massaging, seeing your will break before my eyes "You are my breed slut"

[8:25:47 PM] <CapturedBreedingPrincessEliza> I start to nod. “Mmmmm….”

[celestial-kit]

Everything Has Changed

I’m not sure what this is, I was just thinking about what Bakugo might be like when he first feels an attraction for someone... and then this happened. 

Pairing: Bakugo x reader 

Warnings: Fluff, brief mention of penetration, slight NSFW themes, Minors DNI

______________________________________________________________

I headcanon that Bakugo doesn’t start exploring his romantic and sexual attraction to others until after he’s graduated high school. He’s always been observant, so he could recognize when someone was attractive, but he was never actually attracted to anyone because he was so focused on everything else. Winning sports festivals, doing work studies, training to stay on top of his rivals and teammates. It just never occurred to him that he could be a hero and be in love. 

He starts to recognize that he is a romantic and sexual being when he meets you. It wasn’t love at first sight, but rather a series of events that sparked a heat inside him that he had never felt before. 

You meet because you both start working as sidekicks at the same agency right out of high school. He didn’t pay much attention to you at first because you were quiet, focused on doing your work and getting experience in the field. Your boss often paired the two of you together for patrols, your quiet nature making it so that you don’t rile Bakugo up like some of the other sidekicks. It was on your 5th patrol together that Bakugo first recognized your skill as a hero. 

It was a rather quiet day, not much happening as the two of you strolled the streets. You didn’t talk much outside of the occasional comment about where you should patrol next. As you were about to turn a corner onto a new street, a man dressed in black pushed past the two of you, running at full speed. Behind you, you both hear a woman cry, “My purse!” Bakugo briefly looks back over his shoulder to try to determine where the cry came from, while you automatically pushed forward to chase the bandit, sprinting after the man that was admittedly twice your size. When you caught up, you took your bo staff and swept his feet, making him fall forward on his face. You quickly clambered onto the man’s back, using your body weight to pin him, kicking the purse out of his reach, and zip tying his wrists together. The whole interaction took maybe 15 seconds, but it took Bakugo by surprise. He didn’t expect you to have the courage to jump into action so quickly, and he hadn’t realized that you were so strong. He knew then that he had been underestimating you, and it made him take you more seriously, and pay more attention to you.

The first time he realized he was attracted to you was the first time you sparred together. After that day on patrol, you started talking more, you learned about each other's training habits and quirks. He learned that you focused a lot of your training in martial arts. Since you were smaller, you knew you needed to know how to counter opponents that were bigger than you, and martial arts gave you the skills you needed to do that. One evening after work, you asked Bakugo if he wanted to train with you, and he said yes, expecting to pin you quickly and go home. You both agreed not to use your quirks and the winner would be the person that could pin the other for 5 seconds. 

Bakugo was much larger than you, his biceps the size of your head, bulging when he reached out to try to pin you. You skillfully dodged each of his advances, using his momentum to land your own attacks and keep him off balance. Frustrated, Bakugo finally let loose a growl and lunged at you, attempting to use the sheer size of his body to force you down. You placed a hand on his shoulder when he neared you, kicking your legs over the both of your heads into a semi-cartwheel and forcefully brought one knee down into the middle of his back, the pressure making Bakugo’s legs go numb and his body to topple to the ground. He found himself in a similar position as the bandit that you had taken down on patrol, with you sitting on his back, his arms pinned behind him and his cheek against the ground. He looked up at you from the corner of his eye, a frustrated frown painted on his face. You can’t help but to let out a quiet giggle and a simple “I win” as you give him a small smile. 

Your hair had mostly fallen out of the ponytail you had put it in before your match, pieces of it sticking to your forehead with sweat. Your eyes glowed with pride as you sat on top of him, and Bakugo could feel a faint blush creep onto his cheeks and blood rush south as he imagined you in this position above him, sinking onto his full cock with that same look in your eyes. When he got the feeling back in his legs, he pushed up on his arms, bucking you off his back and stalking towards the locker room, keeping his back to you to hide his semi-hard length. 

 After that moment, Bakugo couldn’t stay away from you. He never admitted his feelings to you, of course, but that didn’t stop him spending time with you, taking in the way you always greeted him with a gentle smile, how you never flinched when he yelled at the other sidekicks, your lightweight touch on his back as you tried to get around him in the copy room. You started getting dinner together, too. It wasn’t a date, despite what Kirishima said, Bakugo just wanted to eat dinner with a friend who he was incredibly attracted to.

You took turns recommending places to eat, trying new things, and rating them at the end of dinner. This week it was your turn and you had been craving Pho, so you recommended a restaurant near the agency that served it. You laughed at Bakugo as he piled his Pho with jalapenos and sriracha, trying to make it spicier. You enjoyed every bit of your meal, even bringing the bowl to your lips to drink the remaining broth of your soup. After you were both finished, Bakugo paid the bill and you started walking home.

“I rate it a 10,” you say, satisfied, rubbing your full belly. “What do you rate it?” You look at Bakugo expectantly.

“Tch,” he scoffs, keeping his pace slow as he walks you to your apartment. He wants to take his time, he doesn’t want to say goodbye yet. “It wasn’t that good. 5,” he shrugs.

“What? You’re too picky, that was a good meal,” You say with a pout.

“I’m not picky, I just have high standards,” Bakugo says as he feels a water droplet land on his cheek. He pulls a hand from where he had it shoved in his pocket, reaching out to feel more droplets hit his palms. He looks up to see gray storm clouds over your heads, so he reaches out to grab your hand and starts pulling you quickly to your apartment building. Just before you’re about to make it to the safety of an awning, the rain starts to pour and you both get soaked. 

After pushing inside your building, you ask Bakugo if he wants to dry off in your apartment. He nods, letting go of your hand and following you up the stairs. Inside your apartment, he finds himself lingering in your living room while you change into dry clothes and search for a towel for him. When you return, you’re dressed in sweats and a white t-shirt that does nothing to hide your hardened nipples from Bakugo’s gaze. You bring him a fluffy towel, pulling him down to your level and plopping it on his head, drying his hair yourself. 

He grunts at the action, unsure how to process the affection. When he looks at you from under the towel, he can see a smile on your face, but your eyes are dark and it’s like there is something else plaguing your mind. He watches as your eyes wander down his torso, taking in the way his dark, wet shirt clings to his muscles, and then finally lands on the space between his legs where he can feel himself hardening. You release a small gasp, but don’t pull away, instead simply bringing your eyes up to meet his for a few seconds before you lean in and place a short kiss on his lips.

Bakugo’s eyes widen when you press your lips to his, confused at first, and then closing them after he finally processes it all. You like him. You want him. And he wants you. When you pull away from him, he stands to his full height, dragging the towel off his head till it hits the floor, and then he’s grabbing you by the waist to pull you into a searing kiss. You gasp again and Bakugo takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, doing his best to make it clear how he feels, that he wants you, he needs you, and he doesn’t want to waste another moment without you. 

When you part from the kiss, Bakugo looks into your eyes, trying to gauge your reaction, and he finds you smiling with glossy eyes and bruised lips. He gives you a small smirk and you giggle at him, aware that he’s not the type to lay his heart on his sleeve, confess his love and tell you how he feels. But you know how he feels, he tells you in the way his grip tightens around your waist, in how he pulls you into his chest and tucks his head into your neck, in the way he breathes in your scent and hums against your skin. Bakugo has feelings for you, and now that he has you, he won’t let you go.

[gale-gentlepenguin]

So a while back i had the Last session of the first campaign i ever ran.

I can still remember it vividly.

The group thought they had bested the big bad, only to be betrayed by the man who had sent them on the quest to collect the 7 world hearts in the first place. Though his plan failed when he summoned a monster to kill the guardian of the hearts, because that monster crushed his skull like a balloon and proceeded to kill the guardian. The guardian gave the heroes all the magical power he could (healing them and restoring their spell slots)

Now with all of the hearts in his hand. He created a small dimension for them all to fight. The winner would gain the 7 world hearts, and the losers would die.

The heroes took a moment to prepare themselves and they went inside the portal.

There they saw the monster they had killed when it was much weaker, now at full power and on par with a literal god.

This was it.

And they fought.

It was an epic back and forth, many had fallen only to be brought back with just barely enough time.

Both sides were on the brink... healing spells wasted... spell slots drained.

Most of them on the brink of death.

The barbarian of the group, the one that had lopped off its head last... stood there, it was his turn.

The monster glaring at the nearly dead barbarian.

If he failed his attack... he was dead next turn. And this monster would likely kill the rest of his team in another round of attacks.

First attack hit

Second attack miss

The final attack.

Natural Twenty and a brutal critical.

I looked at the player and smiled

"How do you want to do this?"

The group screamed in victory.

And I remember the player's description perfectly.

'I tighten my grip on my AX, I look right at the monster's face.'

"Dont you ever come back"

'I jump in the air and bring down my Ax right on the monsters head As I slice him clean in half '

And with that the final battle ended.

The most powerful monster I had ever created.

A being that could make a tarrasque seem like a minor inconvenience.

CRUSHED by the heroes that I remember back from level one nearly died to goblins.

It was an epic tale that I will never forget