#well both him and opal are

[razberrymilkshake]

Onyx boss fight is REAL.

raz, hyacinth, al and varka's honest reaction:

+ alt

[romantichopelessly]

not to be completely brain rotted but I am so unbelievably close to writing an Adansey AU inspired by Vicious by VE Schwab.

[0oolookitsme]

Piece of His Heart

Hii everyone, I'm back from my long hiatus!! Hope you missed me because boy did I miss YOU! <3 This one is a little emotional, a little sweet, and VERY Harry focused. Also, I was inspired to write this piece while listening to 'London's Song' by Matt Hartke, and trust me, it's a lovely song. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

Verse - Artist!Harry x Photographer!Y/n

Word Count - 1.0k

Warnings - Mentions of unplanned pregnancy, financial stress.

Harry and Y/n were students, and now, parents to a newborn babygirl as well. With all of the newfound emotions rushing through them, one thing he knew was that they were going to build this new little family slowly, and lovingly.

Harry looked up at the ceiling, at the overused fan moving slowly and creakily, with one of his arms under his head while the other one remained draped over his little baby's back. 

She was curled up on top of him, breathing softly, her little hands fisting his shirt. 

Daylight was pouring into the room through the gap between the two curtains, and Harry still couldn't believe that the little one sleeping away on his chest was finally here, after a worthwhile wait of a full nine months.

He still remembers the nickname he'd given her while she was still inside her mum's belly – 'Pumpkin' he had called her, and her little frame couldn't have agreed more with him. 

Full and round cheeks hung a little low on her face, her small mouth in a pout and eyes as circular as pearls, nothing if not the true meaning of grace.

Which is why he'd settled with the name 'Opal', grinning widely while Y/n had nodded furiously with tears in her eyes, saying how it was the perfect name ever.

His mornings suddenly became impossibly sweeter, something he hadn't expected since he had moved back in this childhood home with Y/n.

A few days ago, when he had laid his eyes on the bundle of sunshine for the very first time ever, a huge piece of his heart, if not his entire heart, had been taken right then and there. 

Sighing, Harry got up very carefully, wary of waking up the newborn and then, when he successfully hadn't, laid her on the two person size sofa – all that he could fit in the name of a seat inside his small art studio. 

He had just turned to get back to his awaiting Canvas, when Opal began mumbling. She was talking in her sleep, he realised with a smile growing on his face, making his dimples show up. 

Another piece of his heart was taken then. 

He wondered, each time that she slept, about just what she was dreaming up. On nights, he worried if she wasn't warm enough, wanted her to know that there was a blanket of stars above her – but he knew he could wait until she began talking to do that. 

Even though he couldn't afford the best, he was going to make this work. He was going to be the best father out there, give Opal all of his love, all with Y/n by his side.

Putting back down the paintbrush he had picked up because he couldn't stop thinking of her, Harry walked back over with his stool to sit and watch her. He crossed over the chair, his front against the chair's backrest as he rested his face on his arms, gazing down with a soft smile on his mouth. 

"I can't wait for you to grow up so that we can talk, you know? So, hopefully, you can tell me if this is where you'll always wanna be," he spoke, brushing away the unruly mop curls on her head. 

"And we can go to a place where you look at the light and it splinters," he sighed, moving to cover her up with a blanket. "Where there's plenty of gas in our car to last us the cold, cold winter," tears glazed over his sight, sniffling as he looked at her small figure lull to side as she slept – he almost let slip a chuckle. 

Right then, she took whatever pieces were left of his heart. 

Winter this year wasn't easy, but that wasn't to say that it wasn't the best one aside from the ones he had spent with Y/n. So much financial stress had come with the unplanned pregnancy, and now a baby. But he knew that the both of them could pull through the loans and make it out as a happy and healthy family, if they stuck together. 

Y/n’s dad, a single father, was a little bit bitter about the whole situation but had begrudgingly stepped forward to help out the two with handling the house, seeing as the both of them had to attend college as well as take care of the baby. He dropped off the groceries last weekend, along with the last minute new-born-baby stuff that Y/n had told him they needed. 

Even Anne stepped forward, letting the two of them borrow a room in her house for as long as they needed – likely until they could get back up on their own feet financially.

Currently, as Harry sat feeling overwhelmed with all of the love and other emotions rushing through him, he could hear Anne talking to Y/n down the hall. The walls weren’t the thickest and he could tell that Anne was sharing her own stories with Y/n, telling her about how she’d had Harry at a young age, and more. 

He’d heard it before, had even seen the two of them having this chat. So he knew that Anne, very likely, had Y/n’s head in her lap and brushing her hands through her hair, trying to console the woman high on hormones and the insurmountable number of emotions she must be feeling. 

Wiping away at his nose with the sleeve of his flannel, Harry blinked away the tears and pulled up a smile on his face again, trying to be courageous, for Y/n and their daughter. Because he knew that Y/n was doing the same for them. For the little family they were both going to build slowly and lovingly now.

"But I also want you to be this little forever, so that I can cherish you enough, yes?" He asked her, nodding his head when she mumbled something incoherent, something similar to ‘we’ll be fine, dada', Harry wanted to believe. 

And unable to help himself, he picked her up again, holding her flush against his exposed torso because he didn’t have the energy to button up his shirt and the skin to skin contact made breathing a little easier. 

"I'll love you tenderly," he whispered, pressing a kiss on her forehead. "I'll love you forever, and more, little pumpkin." 

[stalkerofthegods]

Lord Dionysus/Bacchus deep dive

Lord Dionysus is an eccentric god, He is an understanding god, I adore him as a researcher and as someone in the community with schizophrenia and mental illness, he is kind far beyond words, he is not only a wine god but also the god of freedom and ecstasy, may we all respect him and may his devotees and worshipers speak of his good deeds and yell in his honor of goodness.

Signs he's reaching out • smelling wine all of a sudden, craving wine, You feel a twinge of madness, dreams with his attributes with him, seeing references of him everywhere

Herbs •psalakanthos plant, Grapes and their vines, Figs, Bay laurel, Barley, Pine, Pomegranate, Fennel, apples, berries, weed, Silver Fir, Bindweed, poppy, wheat and hops leafs, wildflowers, pine cones, Apple seeds, Blazing star. I think he would like Cinnamon, mint, feverfew (happiness), Pepper, basil, chives, horseradish (courage), orange, lemongrass, marjoram (insight), vanilla, sorrel, cinnamon (love) 

Animals• Oxen and wild animals, asses, Leopards, Panther, Cheetah, serpents, rams,  dolphins, tigers, lynx, panthers, goats, bats, griffons, bulls , foxes, deers/fawns

Colors •purple, green, gold, Red, Black, White.

Patron of• fruit and intoxitation, Parties, Festivities, Banquets, Drinking, Bacchic Revelry, Madness, Bacchic Frenzy, Insanity, Hallucination, Homosexuality, Effeminacy, Cross-dressing, Forest Wilderness, Wild vegetation, Predatory big cats, Reincarnation, The path to Elysium, Comedy and Tragedy Plays, Playwrites, Actors, bartenders, the arts, non-binary people, divination, witchcraft, oracles

Curses• violence, and sickness, Destructive insanity, madness

Blessings• pleasure and fun, Religious frenzy (in the orgiastic cults), Ecstasy, Afterlife in Elysium (paradise), getting a bigger friend group, charismatic going up, getting a romantic partner.

Diety of• wine-making, orchards, fruit, vegetation, fertility, festivity, insanity, ritual madness, religious ecstasy, theatre, partying, Epiphany, weddings, death, sacrifice, sexuality, dancing, immortality, and reincarnation, uninhibited freedom, as well as the subversion of the powerful, ecstasy, and abandon, swamps and marshes.

Crystals• Amethyst, grape agate, Garnet, Ruby, deep red stones, tiger eye, serpentine, leopard jasper, amber, green opal or jade, carnelian, rose quartz (someone had it on their alter for him, so I added it here.), bloodstone, sugilite, purple fluorite, ametrine lepidolite

Mortal or immortal • immortal

Zodiac • Taruas 

Vows/omans• none 

Number• 7 

Morals• he is morally ambiguous

Married to• Ariadne 

Past lovers• Althaia, Ampelos, Aphrodite, Erigone, Kronois, Pallene, Physokoa, Polymnos.

What he favors in devotees• free-spirited, out-of-the-norm, wild lifestyle, gender fluid, transgender, nonbinary people. People are restricted wanting to become free. 

Personality• He brings joy, ecstasy, and merriment, but also delivers "brutal and blinding rage”, he's a very chill guy, many say he is sassy. I met him once, and he respects people's boundaries.

Home• Mount Olympus 

Equivalents/most resemblance • Osiris, Hades, Sabazios, Yahweh, Bacchus, Liber, Tammuz, Orotalt, Fufluns, Acan, Jesus.

Epithets• Acratophorus, Ἀκρατοφό.ρος “giver of unmixed wine at Phigaleia in arcadia, Acroreites at Sicyon Adoneus a Latinised form of Adonis and is also used as an epithet for Bacchus, AegobolusΑἰγοβόλος "goat-shooter" at Potniae in Boeoria, Aesymnetes Αἰσυμνήτης “ruler" or "lord" at Aroë and Patrae in Achaea, Agrios Ἄγριος "wild", in Macedonia, Androgynos Ἀνδρόγυνος ”Androgynous” specifically in intercourse referring to the god taking both an active male and a passive female role, Anthroporraistes, Ἀνθρωπορραίστης “man-destroyer" a title of Dionysus at Tenedos, Bassareus, Βασσαρεύς "fox-skin", which item was worn by his cultists in their mysteries. Bougenes, Βουγενής or Βοηγενής “borne by a cow", in the Mysteries of Lerna,

Braetes, Βραίτης "related to beer" at Thrace, Briseus Βρῑσεύς "he who prevails" in Smyrna, Bromios Βρόμιος "roaring” and "roar of thunder" refering to the wind amd primarily relating to the central death/resurrection element of his myths and also the god's transformations into lion and bull and  of those who drink alcohol and refers to Dionysus' father, Zeus "the thunderer", Choiropsalasχοιροψάλας “pig-plucker" Greek χοῖρος = "pig"(which was  used as a slang term for the female genitalia as A reference to Dionysus's role as a fertility deity), Chthonios Χθόνιος “the subterranean”, Cistophorus Κιστοφόρος "basket-bearer and ivy-bearer" because baskets are sacred to the Dionysus,Dimetor Διμήτωρ "twice-born" which Refers to Dionysus's two births, Dendrites Δενδρίτης "he of the trees" as a fertility god, Dithyrambos Διθύραμβος used at his festivals referring to his premature birth, Eleutherios Ἐλευθέριος “the liberator" also a epithet shared with Eros, Endendros ("he in the tree"), Enorches "with balls" with reference to his fertility, or "in the testicles" in reference to Zeus' sewing the baby Dionysus "into his thigh" which means his testicles used in Samos and Lesbos, Eridromos"good-running" in Nonnus' Dionysiaca, Erikryptos Ἐρίκρυπτος "completely hidden" in Macedonia, Euaster Εὐαστήρ from the cry "euae",  Euius (Euios), from the cry "euae" in lyric passages, and in Euripides’ play “the bacche, Lacchus Lακχος a possible epithet which is associated with the Elusinian Mysteries, The name "Iacchus" may come from the Ιακχος (Iakchos) whicj is a hymn sung in honor of Dionysus.

Indoletes, Ἰνδολέτης, meaning slayer/killer of Indians Due to his campaign against the Indians, Isodaetes, Ισοδαίτης, meaning "he who distributes equal portions", cult epithet which is also shared with Helios, Kemilius, Κεμήλιος and kemas: "young deer, pricket",

Liknites "he of the winnowing fan", as a fertility god connected with mystery religions ( a winnowing fan was used to separate the chaff from the grain.)

Palazzo Massimo, Rome, Lenaius, Ληναῖος "god of the wine-press", Lyaeus, or Lyaios Λυαῖος, "deliverer” and "loosener") which refers to him as who releases from care and anxiety, 

Lysius, Λύσιος "delivering, releasing" At Thebes there was a temple of Dionysus Lysius, MelanaigisΜελάναιγις "of the black goatskin" at the Apaturia festival, 

Morychus Μόρυχος “smeared" in Sicily, because his icon was smeared with wine less at the vintage, Mystes Μύστης "of the mysteries" at Tegea in Arcadia, Nysian Nύσιος according to Philostatus he was called like this by the Ancient indians  Most probably, because according to legend he founded the city of Nysa, Oeneus, Οἰνεύς "wine-dark" as god of the wine press, Omadios “flesh-eater", Eusebius writes in Preparation for the gospel that Euelpis of Carystus states that in Chios and Tendos they did a human sacrifice to Dionysus Omadios, 

Phallen , (Φαλλήν) (probably "related to the phallus” at Lesbos, Phleus "related to the bloοm of a plant", Peudanor Ψευδάνωρ "false man" referring to his feminine qualities in Macedonia,

Pericionius, Περικιόνιος "climbing the column (ivy)" a name of Dionysus at Thebes, Semeleios or Semeleius or Semeleus an obscure epithet meaning 'He of the Earth' and 'son of Semele' Also “Son of Semele, Iakchus, wealth-giver”, 

Skyllitas, Σκυλλίτας “related to the vine-branch" at Kos, Sykites, Συκίτης "related to figs" at Laconia,Taurophagus, Ταυροφάγος “bull eating", Tauros Ταῦρος “a bull", Theoinus, Θέοινος wine-god of a festival in Attica, Τhyiοn, Θυίων "from the festival of Dionysus 'Thyia' (Θυῐα) at Elis", Thyllophorus, Θυλλοφόρος "bearing leaves" at Kos, Dionysus and Zeus absorbs the role of Sabazios (a Thracian/Phrygian deity)

Facts• Dionysus was the last god to enter Olympus, When Dionysus had grown up lady Hera made him into a state of madness so he wandered through many countries of the earth, He was a student of the famous centaur Chiron who taught him how to dance, The common names Dennis and Denise are said to be derived from Dionysus. he hated the sight of an owl

Roots• Ancient Greece, Greek mythology, Mount Pramnos on Ikaria

Offerings • Honey, Meat, Alcohol (especially wine), Fruit, Cakes, Poetry, Songs, Spices (ex- cinnamon), Blood or liquids resembling blood, He thinks those "wine mom" signs that you get in cheap gift shops are hilarious, Grape juice, Intoxicants, Grapes, Olive oil, Apples, Figs, Eggs, Goblets, Curved daggers, Bull horns, Snake skin, Leopard or tiger print objects, Purple candles, Theatre masks, Sexual toys, Percussion instruments, Wine bottles, Fake/toy grapes, Leaves or curls from grapevines, Pine needles, Pinecones, Apple seeds, Bindweed, Wildflowers, Toys photos or art of any big cats, snakes, Hymns, Songs you’ve written, Any art that you create, Any stories that you create, Art, pictures of the comedy, Wine corks, Wine labels, Toy or miniature drums, milk, water from the sea (he has a strong connection with the sea), Decorative beads, party beads, flashy jewelry, Wine glasses, Shot glasses, Corkscrews, Sparkling cider, Grape flavored things, Cheese, hallucinogens, Nips (small alcohol bottles), Bottle opener, Beer/soda tabs, Alcohol bottles with cool labels, Costumes, NatureFig/fig newtonsBull imagery, Donkey imagery, Bones, Antlers, Dead/preserved animals, Hiking gear, Seeds, Concert/festival tickets, Locks of hair, Shaven beard hair, Pride swag, ravagant clothes/clothes that make you feel good, soup (you know , you know.)

Devotional • learn about sacred sex, shamanic journeying, responsible entheogen use, and alcohol as a sacrament, read “The Secret History” book, Make a playlist for Him, Dance and sing to your favorite songs or songs you’d think He would like, Throw a feast in His honor, Remembering to take your medication and taking care of your mental health, Support/donate to your local theatre in His name, Be a part of the theatre, Stand up for those that are marginalized, Write stories/plays for Him, Invite Him to watch plays or movies with you (especially comedies or tragedies), Throw parties or attend them, Attend festivals, Attend a wine tasting, Go on wine tours, Attend parades, Masturbate or partake in sexual acts for Him (if you’re comfortable doing so And over 18), Drink alcohol or grape juice, Smoke po, Learn about winemaking, Support local vineyards, Wear wreaths made from ivy, Wear faux leopard or tiger print, Wear the color purple, Pray to Him for things while intoxicated/high, Visit your local winery and participate in a grape-stomp, do some Homebrewing in his honor, Grow a garden in his honor, Make your own ritual tools in his honor, Collect art, do Glamourbombs in his honor, Pretend to be somebody else in his honor, go out to a club in his honor, listen to music in his honor, read in his his mythos, write things for a ritual and write a prayer for him, eat some grapes or have some grape juice or sparkling grape juice (or wine if able and of age), listen to party music, read plays, watch musicals or plays (ex- high school musical, Hamilton), listen to musical soundtracks, learn about the history of theatre, learn about viticulture and vineyards, do things that bring you pleasure, listen to party soundscapes, watch documentaries about any of his sacred animals, Trip intentionally/spiritually, Learn about substance abuse/recovery, Destigamtize drug users, Learn about harm reduction, Make home videos, Write poetry, Act, Dress up, Go to the woods, Dance/sing in the woods, Meditate in the woods, Learn wilderness safety and first aid, Learn what to do when encountering a wild animal, Go off the beaten path, Explore new areas, Pick up litter, Forage, Recycle bottles, Grow fruit, Try new fruits, Have sex (let the partner know beforehand it's in Diyonisus honor, 18+), Masturbate (18+), Have threesomes/swing (ask him before and make sure the other participants know it's in Dionysus's honor, 18+.), Finally, give into that one kink you’ve been ignoring (you know the one, 18+), Learn about consent with partners, Learn how to preserve dead animals, Learn about different life cycles (ex-plants, animals), Learn about immigration in your area, Learn about different cultures, Try foreign foods, Learn a new language, Learn about your ancestry, Help immigrants in your area, Grow your hair out, Keep a Manifest/Keep a manifestation journal, Use Sexual/creative energy to manifest, Shed your old self, Do Self-reflection/self-exploration, Identify areas where you overindulge (ex- food, substances, spending).

Symbols• Grapevine, ivy, phallus, Thyrsus, theatrical masks, Leopard Skin, Panther, Cheetah, the animal called asses, cymbals, swords, or serpents, rams, laurel, asphodel,  dolphins, tiger, lynx, panther, horns, goats, his chariot pulled by 2 leopards, masks in general. 

Siblings• Ares, Athena, Apollo, Artemis, Aphrodite, Hebe, Hermes, Heracles, Helen of Troy, Hephaestus, Perseus, Minos, the Muses, the Graces.

His friends/gets along with• Maenads and Bacchantes and Satyrs and Sileni and Pan and Priapus

Attendees• Seilenos (God of Drunkenness), Pan (God of Shepherds & Pastures) the Satyroi and Seilenoi (spirits of Fertility & the Wild) The Bakkhantes and Mainades (Nymphe and Women revellers) Komos Satyriskos (cup-bearer)

Appearance in astral or gen• Dionysus often took on a bestial shape and was associated with various animals, often wearing an Ivy wreath, the thyrsus, and the kantharos (a large two-handled goblet) In early Greek art he has represented as a mature male, bearded and robed holding a fennel staff tipped with a pine-cone, but later on he was portrayed as youthful sensuous, naked or semi-naked androgynous youth and effeminate with brown hair and pale features, often holding grapes and drinking wine.

Parentage•  Zeus and Semele, some sources also say Zeus and Demeter, some say Zeus and Persephone, but he always sends up with Persephone as a foster mother or as a biological mother, but before his reincarnation, his parents were Ammon and Amalthea.

Pet• leopards

Children • Priapus, Hymen, Thaos, Staphylus, Ononpion, Cumus, Phthonus, the Graces and Deianira, Seilenos, Pan, Satyroi & Seilenoi, Bakkhantes & Mainades, Komodo’s

season and festivles• Diyonosus festivals were bacchanalia, Dionysia, Anthesteria, Dionysian, Lenaia, Panathenaia,  his season was spring and March and April

Day• 11th to the 13th of the month of Anthesterion, around the time of the January or February full moon.

Sacred places• Boitia in Greece, naxos Greek, island Edina in western Thrake, his holiest shrine was Mt kithairon (Nysa) in Boiotia Greece, he also declared war on India. A sacred place is the theatre.

Status• Greek god in the major theoi, and an agriculture Demi God. 

Pet peeves• Uderestemating him, he probably won't like it if you ignore him

Music• Disco, show tunes, psychedelic rock, acid folk, Greek folk music, EDM, classical, new wave, art pop, vaporwave, just anything you can dance and sing to.

Tarot• Temperance, fool card, three of cups, the tower, 9 of cups (based off of how people see him through their tarot cards) 

Scents/Inscene • Pine incense,  frankensince, patchouli and vanilla, nutmeg, mulled wine, storax, and Benzoin.

Prayers•

Regular prayer

Dionysos, god whose arrival is swift and certain, enduring friend of women and men whose welcome is warm, bringer of light, we see you in shadows. Dionysos, granter of great blessings, your presence is a heady wine. Kind-hearted god, to each you give as is fitting, each vessel you fill only as we can bear, and yet with even a sip, we are drunk upon you, and our faith is affirmed. Awesome god, by our own will we drink deeply, with you we become lost, we wander, we are found.

Litany to Dionysos

Dionysos of the vine, rich-tressed god of wine, potent and lusty, unmixed, undiluted, with full force you come to us, vital and robust, rich and strong and surprisingly sweet. Dionysos, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Ivy-bearing Dionysos, god of the green, of the power of root on stone, the force of life that will make its own way in spite of all who labor to hold it back, no will or work can bind your might. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Dionysos of the deep earth, of the dark world, of the unknown expanse beneath the black soil, beneath solid stone, of mysteries you know much, of death and of what lies beyond. God of secrets, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Dionysos the inspiring, granter of words of prose or poesy, words heard best by the drunken and the mad, words forgotten with the passing of night and delight. Bacchus, granter of rare transport, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Dionysos Soter, holder of the hearts of men, you free us from the cares of the world, each brilliant frenzied moment a shining jewel, each glimpse of the sacred more precious than gold. I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings. Kindly Dionysos, granter of good to men and women, giver of gifts to all who seek your blessing. Gracious Dionysos, accepter of offerings great and small, friend of mankind, I praise and honor you, I thank you for your blessings.

Regular Prayer to Dionysos

Dionysos, deep-hearted one who knows the souls of men and women, whose hand is ever open, ever within reach. Dionysos, god who runs in the dark, who sees with eyes shut tight, who dances to the heart’s strong beat, ever are you yourself, ever constant, ever changing god of those who are trapped, those who seek your truth and their own, those who seek vision beyond seeing, those who seek wisdom beyond knowledge, those who seek the self, pure and sweet, those who seek clarity beyond definition, who seek to embrace the uncertain, to hold, but loosely, to what is true beyond trust.

Regular prayer to Dionysos

I praise Dionysos, lord of the vine, lord of the far reaches of the mind; in the thick of the woods, along darkened paths, in the shadows of dusk and of dawn, you roam the world, the satyrs and the pretty nymphs dancing in your wake. Son of Zeus and fair-haired Semele, bold-hearted Semele, who dared to look into the face of glory, beautiful Semele who you carried into life again, Semele reborn who men called Thyone; beloved of clever Ariadne, quick-witted one, so dear to your heart, your bright-eyed bride and consort; Dionysos, friend of women, friend of the blissful, wild-eyed maenads, pilgrims and pioneers, those who seek, your cheer and inspiration, those who seek your release, from sorrow and despair, those who are lost in joy, and those who have found themselves in you. Dionysos, god of the darkest dark and the deepest deep, boundless one, endless one, fathomless one, in you we see the edges of ourselves, in you, we find our life’s journey, in you we find our home.

To Dionysos

I call to Dionysos, great god of the vine, son of thundering Zeus and headstrong Semele, loving husband of warm-hearted Ariadne. From the east you came, old before the ancients, throughout the elder world were you beloved; in Naxos and Boitia were you celebrated, in temples and in the savage wilderness, the fleet-footed maenads running in your wake. The sweetest, strongest wine is ever your drink; the mind’s release, the body’s loosening, your gift. O Dionysos; thyrsus-shaker, ivy-crowned god, we see you in the shadows, we see you on the edges, we see you in the haze of ecstasy, where we know the truth of passion, where we find the essence of our being. Bacchus, I call to you!

| Sources & websites in comments. |

I use resources, I do not own the info, and most deep dives have UPG (that I use in my work.) And I only take some information from sources. I am 14, this is my hobby, I am learning but I spent many hours and days on this, and I am always open to criticism. I have been doing worship for 5 years. Please know you can use the info, I do not sue, but I will take action if this work is used without permission and not put as a resource if used in any work. without permisson and not put as a resource if used in any work, for the public.

[om-nom-snom]

do you do rival hcs/drabbles/what have you? would love some Hop, Bede, & Marnie ones plz!! (also if specified gender is alright could it be fem, masc, fem? ty if you do or np if you dont!)

[Dating Headcanons]

Adult!Hop x reader, Adult!Bede x reader, Adult!Marnie x reader

Hop <3

Dating Hop sure is an adventure at times

Our loveable Pokémon professor in training is just as excitable about dating as he is about... Well, just about everything

Right from the first date you have him hook, line, and sinker

As soon as you're comfortable he's introducing you to his family, he's particularly keen to have you meet Leon

Don't worry, Leon loves you

Hop isn't scared of PDA, including in front of his family, and he's happy to follow your lead on it

Expect plenty of very entertaining family barbecues with Hop always keeping an arm around you

He loves when you visit him at work too

It's so easy for him to get wrapped up in all his work and research that sometimes you need to drag him away for a break

Often the promise of kisses and a fresh cup of tea is all the convincing he needs

Hop brings you on fieldwork too, he likes getting to combine two of his favourite things

I feel like he confessed his feelings originally after being away on fieldwork, he came back and gave you an applin as a confession

Dating Hop is definitely exciting, but he's also a very devoted and affectionate partner

Bede <3

The fact Bede managed to get a boyfriend is a literal miracle

Hop thought you both were kidding at first

Bede was super sweet when asking you out though, all embarrassed and blushing while asking if you were free for dinner

He's usually not the most open with his affections in public, generally he prefers to keep things private

That is, unless he's jealous

Then all bets are off and you have a new appendage with an amazing pink jacket

In private Bede is fond of small shows of affection, caressing your cheeks and kissing your hands are some of his favourites

He takes you out on plenty of dates too

Cute cafes in Ballonlea, nice restaurants in Wyndon, nature walks through the wild area

He's surprisingly doting and makes sure to protect you from any potential league drama you might be exposed to as the partner of Ballonleas gym leader

Speaking of him as gym leader, he keeps a private box at his stadium for you and Opal so the two of you can spectate his matches in comfort

Opal spends most of the time gossiping with you, and sharing the odd embarrassing story involving Bede

He always goes bright red when either of you mention anything but he's secretly glad you two get on so well

Marnie <3

Okay, so I feel like Piers and Team Yell would be so preoccupied keeping boys away from Marnie that they wouldn't think twice about female friends of hers

After a couple years of knowing her and being close friends you two start officially dating

Though she definitely kissed you before ever taking you on a date

You're the first person she's ever actually dated so she takes a little while to feel things out

Piers is the first to know and that's after well over half a year of you two dating

Marnie would definitely be happy if you had something in common with Piers that the two of you could bond over

She wants the two most important people in her life to like each other

Despite her reserved nature she can be quite forward in her affections

Expect her to take charge in turning you to face her for kisses or even pulling you into her lap in private

She loves physical contact, feeling you against her in any way is just so comforting

Marnie also loves to hold your hand, even in public, and she'll tell off anyone that comments negatively on it

Expect to be treated like absolute royalty by the new Spikemuth gym leader, including your own mini protection squad

Thank you for the request Anon! I hope you don't mind me aging up the characters a little, I love these guys and their canon careers post game so much that I couldn't help myself :)

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (15) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n tantalisingly close yet still a bit too far (first oscar podium of the season!!!) also btw this is gonna be my last post for a little bit, i'm in my exam season, i just wanted to let you guys know!

masterlist | last part | part 15 | next part

YOUTUBE

comments

omg proof of life

3:28 the subtle comedy of her being so close to the f1 world while being scared of going fast 😭

we need more interviews of her! she's an absolute delight to listen to

don't be shy, release the uncut version

choosing your bf over your literal blood-related cousin is lowkey wild ↳ i mean if you think about it like this: would you rather be driven at high speeds by your cousin who would mess with you or your boyfriend who worships the ground you walk on?

MESSAGES

from the phone of oscar piastri

INSTAGRAM

selinabui 🎵 Florence + The Machine · Cosmic Love | Florence, Italy

liked by oscarpiastri and 492,384 others

selinabui i took the stars from my eyes and then i made a map tagged: cameliazzz

oliviarodrigo obsessed with you 💜 ↳ selinabui @.oliviarodrigo liv, baby, we did not plan these tours well, were we aiming for missing each other by two days?

28kaslina24 the florence and the machine lyric caption >>>> WELCOME BACK QUEEN!!!

oscarpiastri Who'd you have dinner with looking that pretty? ↳ selinabui @.oscarpiastri just this f1 driver, i think he drives for mclaren ↳ landonorris @.selinabui yeah i had a blast at dinner 👍

tina_kim not 100% sold that this is actually her posting... why are they playing mind games with us ↳ pastry81 @tina_kim oscar commented so i remain cautiously optimistic

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h oscar piastri trending on twitter for two reasons: getting adopted by charles leclerc and that video of him very unsubtly checking out his girlfriend ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h i felt like i was intruding but also he was very very attractive in a way that is concerning

jackpot ☆ @slayridgo · 3h lina's reply to olivia's comment made me realise that taylor, olivia and empty bottles are just... bouncing around europe at the same time and that thought was so funny i just had to share it ↳ jackpot ☆ @slayridgo · 3h i have all three tour calendars open and they're narrowly missing each other by like a couple days- selivia are both in the same venue in paris in the SAME WEEK but EB is performing june 10-12 and olivia is june 14-15 but by june 15, EB are in amsterdam all while taylor is in the UK and after taylor's UK leg finishes, she's going to amsterdam which is the same time EB's UK round begins and while olivia's on break ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 49m the music girlies are having a blast

june @linafesting · 2h wait not me just realising that EB's break almost perfectly coincides with the F1 summer break... ↳ june @linafesting · 2h where's that reddit theory that EB planned the tour around the F1 calendar, how long does it take to plan a tour???

INSTAGRAM

oscarpiastri Circuit de Monaco

liked by charles_leclerc and 277,486 others

oscarpiastri Feeling the Monégasque love this weekend 💛 tagged: mclaren, charles_leclerc, sennabrazil and institutoayrtonsenna

ninisf1diary Oscar Piastri-Leclerc 😭😭😭

piastri_lina pls don't fall victim to the monaco curse pls pls pls

TWITTER

opal @pxastrixxx · 7h SHE isn't even attending the monaco gp like figures... ↳ 🕯️manifesting EB3 🕯️@.linabelles · 4h fyi she can't go bc she's performing two sold-out shows milan on race weekend, you would know this if you used your brain

Kas 🎸 @EB_KAS · 3h got put in time out bc i laughed at lina when she walked into a doorframe, someone avenge me ↳ Lando Norris @.LandoNorris · 2h Did she happen to be on the phone with my teammate? ↳ Kas 🎸 @EB_KAS · 14m embarrassingly, yes

president linami @.linaminami · 7m i'm like crying wdym lina was so distracted on the phone with oscar she WALKED INTO A DOORFRAME ↳ president linami @.linaminami · 6m GIRLIE THIS IS SLIGHTLY PATHETIC GET OFF THE GROUND 😭

kayla @luna_apocolypse · 1h somewhere in milan selina bui is screaming bc jenson button is commentating the monaco grand prix ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 1h context??? ↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 47m omg sorry i forget that a lot more f1 fans follow me now 😭 lina had a massive childhood crush on jenson button, there's a photo of her like two inches from the tv staring at him

jess @OPIXSTRI · 21m why do lina and i have the same taste in men :) surely there has to be a jenson button to oscar piastri pipeline out there

INSTAGRAM

selinabui

liked by lukaszhang and 332,185 others

selinabui but it's the monaco grand prix! i never miss the grand prix!

emptybottlesbar All tuned in right before Milan Night 1 🙈

oscarpiastri How's your head? ↳ selinabui @.oscarpiastri i think u know from experience :) ↳ cameliazzz @.selinabui there are CHILDREN on this app

moonbeamlina got catfished by the selfie bc why was the rest just f1

TWITTER

TMD Tour News @EB-TMDTour · 2h A fan close to the stage interrupts the welcome speech to tell the band about the results of Formula 1 qualifying. I realise how crazy this sounds as I'm typing it up, but I'm being dead serious; congrats to Oscar for a P2 position! #TMDWorldTour ↳ lukas 🔛🔝 @lukiepookie28 · 2h i'm dying they just paused the show for the results, we're only one song into the show, lina's barely gotten thru introductions and then you just hear: "OSCAR P2!" like DAMN way to get her attention

EB Updates @emptybottles_news · 2h Fan: Oscar qualified P2! Lina: Huh? I heard Oscar, what's happening? Oh my god, is qualifying over, how'd it end up? Fan: Piastri P2! Leclerc on pole! Zhou P20! Lina: Oscar P2? *pause* There isn't anything being investigated is there? ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h "there isn't anything being investigated is there" LMAO SHE'S TRAUMATISED FROM IMOLA 😭😭😭 ↳ kay ♡ @ blackcatluna · 1h zhou p20 hurt a little actually, she was so unfazed ↳ jules 🌿 @juliiaapxp · 53m i mean she clearly watched the practice sessions, she knows that the saubers have been dreadful this weekend, she probably expected that result

lina bui x2 grammy winner @urdaisea · 12m why was she so darn hot tonight... is this that famed oscar piastri effect?

president linami @ linaminami · 1h i need her biblically ngl why did that smirk make me blush so hard tonight, i've watched basically every show on these grainy ass live streams but tonight's one got me kicking my legs in the middle of the night

EB Bar @theemptybottlesbar · 23m hey... hey... how y'all doing? ↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 18m i've been tense since fp3 and now i'm being seduced by selina bui so i'm probably not doing very well mentally ↳ kay ♡ @ blackcatluna · 1h with all the love in my heart, tell them to stop being so hot

piaa⁸¹ @.papayaeightyone · 21m oscar is gonna open up this app with hundreds of thousands of EB fans down so bad for his girlfriend and he's gonna get it

INSTAGRAM

lukaszhang Milan, Italy

liked by liam_zhang and 300,496 others

lukaszhang post-show shenanigans tagged: eb_jonno, aidan_ebass, selinabui and cameliazzz

aidan_ebass some of us, i don't wanna name names, are becoming alcohol-dependent ↳ selinabui @aidan_ebass i'm not playing with u, it's jonny ↳ eb_jonno @.selinabui i can't be offended by something that i wholeheartedly agree with

cameliazzz for the record, i don't recall any of this

emptybottlesbar you can be drunk but never camilina ijbol drunk ↳ selinabui @emptybottlesbar you were born in the year 1993, this is embarrassing for everyone ↳ linasgirl4 @.selinabui SHE'S BACK TERRORISING HER MANAGEMENT ACCOUNTS I'VE NEVER BEEN HAPPIER

TWITTER

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h thoughts and prayers to lina bui bc she decided to have a concert in the middle of the monaco gp where her boyfriend starts from the front row ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 1h technically... the show starts at 5pm and the grand prix should end by like 4:45pm... she could very much so watch it ↳ camilina gfs fr @ drummergf · 1h unfortunately i think they run a soundcheck plus hair and makeup in the lead-up to the show, that's also the reason why she couldn't watch quali! it all takes a bit and cami has said that they eat lunch then start preparing for the show then have a quick dinner then often grab supper after the show ends

Formula 1 @.F1 · 5m 🔴 RED FLAG 🔴 Sainz runs off in Casino Square and there are three cars behind which have made contact #F1 #MonacoGP ↳ emme @flowersforcami · 2m lmao yeah no lina aint watching shit...

MESSAGES

from the phone of selina bui

TWITTER

TMD Tour News @EB-TMDTour · 1h Lina addresses Oscar Piastri's podium finish at the Monaco Grand Prix! "Guys, I know, you don't have to yell it up to me today, he texted me backstage during intermission." #TMDWorldTour ↳ lukas 🔛🔝 @lukiepookie28 · 1h LMAO I WAS LITERALLY WONDERING WHY INTERMISSION FELT SO LONG TONIGHT

opal @pxastrixxx · 1h oscar got his first podium of the season and does she even care? ↳ opal @pxastrixxx · 1h the whole race when it was cutting to the ferrari wags and absolutely nothing from the papaya garage... the silence was loud ngl ↳ piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 28m can you stop bringing her up if you clearly don't like her? she's in the middle of a world tour, she physically couldn't attend bc she's performing to 17000 people in milan, and fyi, she did care, she congratulated him in private, not everything about their relationship is a spectacle, get a fucking life :)

liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 17m her comedic timing 😭 she's baiting us all, i swear... she started the encore with the most melodramatic sigh and the sweetest voice with the acoustic guitar, and then she pulled the rug out from under us all ↳ liv is SEEING EB LIVE!! @olivielina · 15m she said: oscar, if you're still watching... *a couple seconds of guitar strumming with an angelic smile, you think she's about to give the most lovely speech of how proud she is of him* stop 🥰 NOW IF I WERE OSCAR PIASTRI--

↳ kayla @luna_apocolypse · 2m he's so goofy sometimes it's so endearing like no wonder she's so down bad

emptybottles_official Italy

liked by emptybottlesbar and 310,182 others

emptybottles_official Florence and Milan, you guys were absolute DREAMS! This past week in Italy has been nothing short of magical, and we hope we lived up to the love you've shown us since our debut. These shows have been a long time coming for you guys! 🔜 Zürich, Switzerland 🇨🇭

emptybottlesbar ABSOLUTELY PHENOMENAL NIGHTS!!!

marie_h.sb the milan shows were a new kinda crazy

tina_kim italy has always loved them so much, my heart🥺

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee @urfavsgf @eiaaasamantha @sp1rl @destinyg237 @iloveyou3000morgan

[thesassypadawan]

Santa Tell Me (A.J. x Button!Reader)

Summary:  It’s Christmas Eve and you except your boyfriend of year to pop the question…again.  However, before he can…you surprise him with a special gift of your own.

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there’s sooo much of the fluff with a bit of the smut. Fun from behind (giddy up), misuse of a jolly old elf’s hat, size diff, ho ho hoe lingerie, and… A.J.’s big, fat dick.

Notes:  Happy Holidays, lovelies!  Welcome to track seven of my special holiday mix, Santa Tell Me! ❤️💚

(Merry Christmas, @everydaydreamer! And thank you for making the perfect pic for this! 🎅)

- ‘Santa, tell me if you're really there…  Don't make me fall in love again if he won't be here next year…’

- One big hand comes to settle on your hip, squeezing gently.  The other taking your smaller one, lazily lacing and intertwining your fingers together.  Swaying you both slowly back and forth to the familiar, festive music.  Blue eyes locked with yours in the mirror’s reflection; gaze warm, affectionate…loving.

- “Look absolutely flawless, doll,” he mutters.  Voice low and gravelly, rumbling deep in his chest…through your petite frame.  Goosebumps forming on your skin…and not from the nonexistent chill in the air.  “Gorgeous like always, ‘cept it’s missin’ one thing.”

- You knew all too well where the conversation was going.  In the short year you two have been an item, you’ve heard it at least a dozen or so times.  The same sweet, endearing request; accompanied by the same little, velvet box.  That he seems to make appear out of nowhere, just like…

- “Oh, baby,” you sigh, hint of sadness in your words.  Watching A.J. pull it out from his vest pocket, fiddle and roll it with his long digits.  “I know you want to marry me bad, but…”

- Words fall short when he pops the lid open.  Revealing not a ring.  Instead what was easily the most beautiful, breathtaking opal necklace you’ve ever seen.

- “I know, I know…‘we’ll see’,” he chuckles.  Repeating your usual response, while helping you put it on.  Calloused fingertips brushing, lingering for an extra moment or two on the nape of your neck.  “Someday though, it’s gonna be…‘yes’.”

- Slight smile pulling at the corners of your pink tinted lips.  As you admire the way it sparkles in the twinkling light, the fact he remembered the significance of this stone.  At the amount of faith, patience he has in and when it comes to you.  Plus a few other things.  “Yeah…we’ll see.”

- Shrugging, leaning down he places a tender kiss on your cheek…the top of your head.  “Come on, we better get goin’.”  Before straightening up once more, giving a quick tap to your perfect bottom.  “Don’t wanna be too late to the party.”

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

- All evening long, you’re very much an inseparable pair.  Never one without the other, practically glued together at the hip. 

- With you holding onto, pressing into his side.  Peppermint swirled nails occasionally trailing up his spine, gently scratching a certain spot between his shoulder blades.  That has him grunting softly in appreciation…those lean muscles contorting, relaxing beneath your welcomed touch.

- As for him, well…  Hardly a minute passes when he doesn't have an arm wrapped around your waist or a palm resting on the small of your back.  Fingers rubbing, massaging.  Sometimes traveling a bit lower, under the hem of your cocktail dress when he thinks no one is looking…drawing out a tiny, muffled squeak from you each time.

- But on the rare instance when you weren’t attached to your better half.  You could be spotted with the rest of the ladies.  Mingling, being asked, more like grilled, on whether you finally caved…finally gave him the answer he wants to hear and officially join their patchwork family. 

- “We’ll see,” you would reply simply and politely.  Smiling coyly over the rim of your glass, at his turned back from across the room.  Watching as he folded another hand in the guys’ silly card game.  Listening to him echo your own words, undoubtedly given the same question.

- All in all, he whole night went by in what feels like a blur.  Of hearty laughs, variety of decadent treats, one too many cups of good cheer…a few stolen kisses below the mistletoe.  And, soon enough, you find yourself tugging on A.J.’s hand.  Bring him level, whispering in his ear for you to be whisked home.  Where the real party could begin, the best part yet to come…his last gift.

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

- Crashing through the front door, nearly chipping the paint and knocking a picture off the wall.  Tongues tangled, lips meshed together in perfect harmony.  With your digits unabashedly pulling at his belt, fumbling for his fly.  And his slipping beneath the folds of your skirt; seeking out that string of mysterious, elusive lace felt during his earlier escapades.

- “Don’t be stingy, sweetheart,” he murmurs between heated kisses.  Hand inching ever higher, palm cupping and kneading a sweet cheek.  “It’s already after midnight.”  Thumb nonchalantly hooking, fiddling with the delicate fabric teasingly…letting it snap.  “Wanna open my present.”

- Jumping slightly, a squeal mixed with an excited giggle bubble up from your throat.  “Mmmh, all right.”   All the while rubbing, massaging that delectable bulge; enticing it to grow, strain the front of his trousers.  “Since you’ve been such a good boy this year.”  Giving it one last gentle squeeze, earning one more grunt.  Before…

- Gone for only a hot minute or two, you return to find him lounging naked on the couch.  Arms draped over the back lazily, long legs spread casually.  Santa hat perched perfectly, barely covering his candy cane and sack of goodies.  “That’s certainly a look, J.”

- Smirking, rising to his feet.  He keeps the jolly old elf’s cap securely in place as he saunters over, comes to meet you in front of the panoramic window.  Fingertips tangling, playing with the ribbon wound and tied perfectly around…  “Says the woman wearin’ paper like a dress.”

- Anticipating the inevitable sassy quip that would undoubtedly come, he acts quickly and smoothly.  “Not that I’m complain’.”  Bending, burying his face into the crook of your neck.  Lavishing your sugar cookie scented skin in love bites and nips.  “Or grateful.”

-As he tears away, takes his time. Savoring, slowly and carefully unwrapping.  “Musta been real good.”  Revealing the sexy, little ho-ho-hoe number that lay beneath.  “To deserve somethin’ this sweet…”

- Skillfully and in a single, fluid motion.  A.J. whirls, twirls you to the music that plays softly in the background.  “…exquisite…”  Pushing you against the cool glass.  Pinning and holding, encompassing you completely with his larger frame. Stocking hat left forgotten on the floor, laying amongst the shreds of discarded paper.  “…wonderful like ya.”

- Eyes hungrily sweep and take in your red, tulle clad form.  Meeting, locking with yours in the reflective surface.  “Now, on them tip-toes, baby doll…”  Palm smoothing down your semi- clothed back, following the intricate details and patterns of the bustier.  Settling on your hip, tugging on it a bit too roughly.  “…lemme try out my new toy.”

- Eagerly you ease, precariously balance on them.  Sparks of anticipation bursting, bemused smile crossing your face.  Watching him still have to slouch, crouch slightly.  To align himself with your aching entrance.  “Sure you’re not too big for this one?”

- Laying tender, adoring kisses along your spine.  His free hand finds, gropes a pert breast.  “Nah, not too big.”  Thumb swirls, fingertips rolls and pinches your pebbled bud.  Fat tip prods, teases at your soaked folds core.  “Always liked my playthings to be a little on the small…”  Surging forward, steadily stretching.  Forcing your tight cunny to open with his thick cock.  “Fuck…side.”

- Moaning, whimpering…nails scramble, scratch lightly.  Palms flatten, brace against the steamed-up glass.  While he thrusts, pounds into you unbridled and wild.  Toned chest pressed to, resting his full weight onto you.  A.J. looms above, grunting and groaning in your ear each time he bottoms out.  Increasing his pace with every powerful drive.

- “So…shit…”  Bullying and hitting, bruising your cervix over and over.  “Lemme get…”  The heat rises, pools in the pit of your stomach.  “Lemme get this straight…”  Peak approaching swiftly, gummy walls fluttering and burning.  “You’ll become the Clause Man’s wife before m-mine?”

- Body tenses, goes ridged.  Starts to shake from all the overwhelming pleasure that courses through.  “Who…who said that wasn’t you…”  You can feel him twitching and throbbing.  Shuddering as he draws closer to his own release, mind-numbing orgasm.  “That you’re not San-San…”

- Slamming hard, you both cry out in bliss.  You clamping and clenching, gushing all over him.  While he paints your insides a sticky, snowy white; stuffing your little stocking nice and full.

- Panting, knees shaking.  He helps you back down onto your feet.  Immediately wrapping, swallowing up your unsteady form in his strong arms.  Laughing happily and joyfully.  Peppering the top of your crown in frantic, loving kisses.  All because you finally agreed.  Said the one thing he’s been waiting to hear since he first presented you with that little, velvet box.  “Then I guess ya better call me Santa… Mrs. Clause.”

- Bursting out into a fit of giggles, sporting an elated grin.  You tilt your head back, teasing playfully…finally getting in a smart remark.  “So, Santa…tell me what else you want?”

- “Yeah, actually.”  Mirroring your smile, he starts to lazily rock…buck and rut again.  “I could think of one thing or two.  Maybe even three.” 

- Santa, tell me if he really cares…  'Cause I can't give it all away if he won't be here next year…’

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @lotte08, @rafeswifeyy2, @exsamlockwood-kate, @sythethecarrot, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker, @everydaydreamer, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @erosmutt, @xhunnybeeex, @vaderswifey, @anakinstwinklebunny

@hearts4sammonroe, @pitas-star, @sythethecarrot, @naberriess, @steven-grants-world, @valyna27, @elcaballerodragon, @yayyy5678, @anakinsrilgirlfriend, @padme-urlove,  @brattyyybbg, @mrschr1stensen, @rosie-chan92, @beresfordsgirl, @darthdaddi, @icosmiclou, @whoisgiinaa, @kentaviax, @arcj

[luckyartdrawer]

(Bitter) Sweet! Art & Drabble

For @divinit3a Café Lunch Rush prompt list! There's still plenty of time before the first prompt is due (Jan 12th), and there's 2 other prompts as well for the month! Definitely check it out lovelies! <3

Drabble name: Instability Of The Heart Contents: Sun x reader, Heavy Pinning, Bitter Sweetness Chosen Words: Clouds, Opals, Celebration, Star-crossed, Letting Go, Hope, Candle Word Count: 1,625

(Close Ups are also at the bottom <3)

It’s been a whole year…

Unsure how to approach the festivities now, Sun decided to find a quiet spot instead, spending all morning setting things up to participate in his own way. He couldn't not join in, but it just wouldn't be right to go back into the thick of it either.

The not-too-far-off town square, only a mile below his expanse of cloud, is alive in the lieu of celebration. The live orchestra plays the same casual songs, their passion dying the expanse of clouds they rest upon pink with their infectious energy, and the music drifts up clear as day to his ears despite the distance. The community brightens at each strum of a chord, chatter so lively that they create lyrics to their own song. They all are so alight that even once the sun sets, not even a single candle will be necessary to keep the festival bathed in a warm glow.

Sun sighed as he looked towards his namesake, feeling both relief and dread seeing it only moved a little since he last checked, located slightly past the center of the sky above him. Any moment now the square should clear its center and engage in its Hearthwarming Dance.

A spark crackles in his chest, sending longing pangs to his heart and head. It swirls through the burning magma and dips through every ligament, the tips of his fingers and toes buzzing with the itch to do something.

He turns to his partner, waiting for the first note of the new song to swell before grabbing their soft hand and whispering,

“May I have this dance?”

Without his usual banter, Sun embraces them and sways to the familiar beat without hesitation.

Upon closing his eyes, he is suddenly not dancing on a patchy field of clouds, but rather upon a lively opal plaza shimmering in the warm sunlight; the polished stone reflecting all those lovely pink clouds to create a mosaic, speckled with a rainbow of beautiful color.

Yet, the way you shined changed everything. It had completely ruined his view of beauty.

Your smile glistened through the sheer cloud of stardust that orbits around your form. Your eyes were as hypnotic as the ring of light you absorb, blindingly white before turning into a pitch black that's impossible for him to comprehend. He could barely even remember what you wore that day, too busy memorizing your face.

You were a star that had gone supernova, a rarity unseen for the last 3 centuries, let alone for a star of your kind.

Even the thought of your imagery causes him to inhale sharply. He clutches at his partner tightly, mindless of the give as he steps around in a traditional dance.

You were so scared when the change happened all those months ago...

Sun had found you holed up in your dark room, begging him to not look at you. He had initially come over to barge down your door for being an hour late to meet him, only to find your home was unlocked. It wasn't too unusual, so he welcomed himself inside, used to doing so after years of friendship.

His bitterness over how you kept him waiting for so long evaporated at finding your tearful state, almost unrecognizable if it weren't for your usual wear and voice.

He's still ashamed to say that he was enraptured by you despite the state you were in.

You were a glimmering dwarf star before, enchanting enough as is, and yet somehow you turned into something even more bewitching, compounding his years of desire into something even stronger. It felt right. Not to see you sad, but to see you in that form. Everything about it felt like you. The pull was indescribable in every step he took, the very essence of you invading his senses.

As soon as he recounts reassuring you, drying your tears, and pulling you into a hug; he snaps back to having you in his arms in the light of day, grasping his right hand and prancing with ease across the square, expertly avoiding other participants.

The magnetic pull is intense, the need to somehow get closer and closer was nearly impossible to ignore. He wanted to run away from such a force, yet he only clutched your hand tighter as he spun you, pulling your back into his chest and locking you there for a beat too long.

He was so afraid that you could read his every move, regardless of knowing your sheer obliviousness to his desires.

You always playfully indulged his yearly insistence of being your dance partner, yet nothing had come of it from either side. But this time, his gaze was constantly locked with yours, unable to break contact. His possessive grip had ensnared you, barely leaving even an inch between you. He couldn't help but pause, disregarding the mass of bodies moving around him, wanting to hold you forever.

How could it not be obvious?

Regardless, he knew it was inevitable he'd spill out his soul to you soon, barely able to restrain his lips from colliding into yours at that very moment.

He hoped, he prayed, he begged like a mantra to the celestial mother that you'd feel the same. That this magnetism isn't so one sided. That restraint would one day be unnecessary and he'd finally be able to drink in the flavor of your kiss.

Only mere seconds had passed when he released you from his hold, continuing the dance as if nothing happened. Perhaps to you, nothing did happen.

Would that explain what had happened?

He spent that whole day with you, following you to vendors with traditional carbon foods and indulging in your proximity as you'd graze hands and bump shoulders on occasion, finally left comfortably alone as the town's people were accustomed to your new appearance by then.

He was more than happy to scoop you up the moment you said you were getting tired and overwhelmed. You insisted that you didn't want the fun to end, but he could tell by the sound of your voice that you at least needed a change of pace.

The sun was setting when he leapt up stray puffs of clouds to the field above the plaza. He pranced in circles, leaping gaps to the dying beats of music, and teasing about dropping you through them when you didn't believe he could cross. Your rivers of laughter only fueled his audacity, as he never wanted to hear them end. Inevitably, his foot barely slipped off the edge of one of his more daring jumps, causing the two of you to fall forward and collide with the cloud beneath you.

Despite the grunt the two of you made at the impact, you were quick to laugh at Sun’s failure, teasing him about his cockiness biting him in the behind.

But Sun couldn't ignore the press of his body on top of yours, the echoing melody of your voice ensnaring his throat, refusing to allow him to even draw breath, let alone words. His mind fogged over, the only reprieve to his pinning troubles all pointed towards you, and he desperately needed that relief.

Your lips were more delicious than he could have ever dreamed of, your endearing expression was wide eyed and glowing.

Glowing so much that he actually had to close his eyes for a moment to recuperate, despite how much he wanted to savor your appearance.

And then with a fluttering blink, he's back in the present, kneeling down in the same position over some sad facimally of you. The cloud he molded this morning was mangled already from his delusions, but due to his fall it had melded into the cloud below it, its pink color feeling more taunting than sweet.

Sun looked down at his hand to find a tiny piece of said cloud still in it, a tear welling up in his eye.

It was too fitting.

In that original moment, it was as if you dissolved right in his arms after that kiss, but he refuses to believe anything bad happened. He searched your home, your favorite places, and even contacted your friends and family. No one knew where you were.

Some believed you to be dead after he finally admitted what happened between the two of you.

He vehemently denied that possibility, despite the plausibility. You were barely older than he was, still spry with centuries of life ahead of you. You couldn't just die from a kiss…

The only spark of hope he was given was when he questioned one of the elder Neutron stars, one of whom recalled personally knowing a singular supernova; one who had been taken suddenly to a world beyond the sky to contain their unstable make up. They had returned only once to explain their departure, before saying goodbye for their next one shortly after.

Sun brought the small puff of cloud to his lips – it should have been your hand.

He couldn't repress the tear that escaped him.

It's been a year since your disappearance. He still hasn't given up on his star-crossed lover, if he may even call you that. Your sudden departure left him wanting, stagnant, unsure of so many things.

If you reciprocated, wouldn't you have come back to him by now..?

Overtime, many have caught onto his depressed demeanor and advised him that it's best to learn to let go.

Preaching that waiting is fruitless.

Denouncing the Neutron’s tall tale of some magical plain snatching you away.

Scolding Sun for ruining his life over some runaway star.

However, he cannot help it; you own all the hope he has left. As he is unfortunately, completely, woefully in love with you.

Close Ups!

[futurefamousdeadmusician]

Escape to the Eden Club - Sister! reader x Shelby Brothers

Summary; Emily Shelby wants to spend the night away from the confines of Small Heath and decides to head out to the famed Eden Club of London. All was well until a certain trio arrived and reigned havoc.

Author's Note; I took some liberties with the plot/ location of the Eden Club itself. That being said, this is still meant to be aligned closely with the fight scene from season 2. As always, let me know what you think.

Eager to escape into the cool evening air, Emily wrapped her shawl loosely around her shoulders and took stock of her purse. A small roll of bills, lipstick, a dainty opal hairbrush, and a shining Colt Pocket Hammerless Arthur had given her some time ago. With one last glance to the mirror, she smoothed out her dress and went for her bedroom door, shutting it softly behind her. Seeing as Polly would still be at the church for sometime, she decided it would be best to inform her brother on her intentions. Emily approached Thomas’ office and peered in to see the stout man sitting behind his modest desk. She rapped lightly on the door frame and was beckoned inside by just a flick of her brother’s eyes instead of a word. After only taking one step into the room she spoke in the most clear, confident tone she could muster.

“I’m going out with Ada this evening. I’ll be back by midnight.” Hoping the conversation would end there she turned to leave only to be stopped by her brothers words. Still not looking up from the papers spread across the wood before him he cleared his throat and said,

“Going out with Ada, eh? Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?” Emily rolled her eyes, hoping her brother didn’t see, and replied,

“Because I didn’t think there would be any issue.” Emily didn’t like lying, a quality instilled in her by her Aunt Polly since her youth. Though, as a Shelby, it came naturally. Exhausting Emily further, Thomas continued in his questioning. 

“Where about are you two going?” Calmer this time, as to not arouse suspicion, the girl replied, 

“Just to dinner, in Digbeth.” 

“The name of the establishment?” With more attitude, she replied, 

“The Carriage.” The man sat for a moment, only sparing her one more glance as he searched her face for deceit. He apparently found none. 

“Be back by 11.” Emily offered a small smile and made her way out of the home on Watery Lane, calling over her shoulder, 

“I’ll see you at 11:30, Tom.” 

The night was still young and the chance for her to walk the streets of Birmingham alone and untethered was an excitement of a life time. She wouldn’t just be walking the streets of her hometown tonight, though. After meeting her friend Scarlett by the cut they hailed a cab and set out for London. 

The passage was just under 2 hours before they arrived to the Eden Club just outside of the city. After tipping the cabman and exiting out into the brisk night they set for the front doors of the avant-garde establishment. Scarlet giggled with excitement as they approached the doorman who knew better than to question two striking young women trying to enter the club. The main hall filled was filled with the smell of smoke and sex and the band played on to ring in the young night. It wasn’t often that Emily got to leave the holdings of Small Health, let alone the claws of her brothers. After Ada’s departure, Thomas was more worried than ever about loosing his youngest sister. This fear often manifested into the overarching control of Emily’s every move. He felt it was both an act of love and an act of necessity. Emily knew she was deeply loved by her brother and cared for him in the same way. Yet, at the end of the day, if Tom could have his thumb on the pulse of every member of the family, only then could he ensure their safety, or so he believed. 

“Isn’t this amazing!” Scarlett squealed in Emily’s ear. Scarlett was one of the few friends that Thomas approved of. She came from a respectable, working-class family who raised horses and often did work with the Shelby family. 

“I know.” Emily said back, raising her voice to soar over the loud music. The pair approached the bar and beckoned the attendant for a drink. Soon after, two men approached the women introducing themselves as Paul, a tall man with short black hair in a pressed grey suit, and David, a slightly stout man with dusty blonde hair and rosy cheeks who’s slim black suit made him look taller than he was. Paul explained that Emily had caught his eye from the moment she had walked in and it would be a crime to let a woman like herself buy her own drinks. It was only out of the confines of Birmingham that handsome men would approach her, unafraid of people she was related to. She could speak freely and finally feel a sense of control she was never afforded at home. 

“Would you care to dance?” Paul asked the young woman and carefully took her hand in his. They left their drinks at the table where David and Scarlett sat completely enthralled with one another. He led her to the dance floor just as a new song started over at the bands stage. Spinning around the floor Emily couldn’t help but laugh at the happiness she felt in Paul’s arms. He leaned in close to her face and breathed, 

“You are absolutely stunning.” His breath smelled of bourbon and lust. This was Emily’s dream; to be young and free. Finally she was living it. 

She only noticed the violent outburst taking place across the large room once she heard the crashing noise of a wooden table full of glassware hit the ground. The band cut to a halt and gasps filled the audience. Out of instinct, Paul shoved Emily behind him as he assessed the situation. When it became clear that the men dressed in black meant to do harm he ushered his date back to their table to collect their friends and make a run for the door. Through the crowd, Emily peered over the bobbing heads of patrons ducking and running at the chaos she noticed a familiar jacket fly up as one of the unknown assailants struck another man across the face. As he turned to face another man she saw the face of her brother adorned with a busted lip and small drops of another mans blood. 

“Fuck.” She whispered and made a run for her table. Scarlett and her companion had already gathered their things and stood to meet the other couple. The four of them hid behind the large sofa they had once sat on while they waited for a path to clear to the main exit of the building. Emily grabbed her friend by the arm and swung the girl around to meet her scared face. The two men were conversing anxiously at the best plan of escape while the women spoke in hushed words. 

“It my fucking brother!” 

“What?” Scarlett gasped “Are you sure?” The two women peered over the couch to see the men still going at it near the center of the room. This time, Arthur’s face came into view through the madness. 

“Fuck it’s the lot of them. We need to go. Now!” Emily shoved the other girl forward and the men followed suit. A gunshot rang out through the building and they all dropped to the floor covering their heads. Paul grabbed Emily’s shoulders hovered his body over hers to protect her. When the men quit fighting and stood to see where the shot had come from all became quiet. The four took this opportunity to head straight for the exit. Emily only heard the indistinct echo of Tommy’s voice before clearing the doorway. 

Pouring into the street patrons ran every conceivable direction to vacate the path of anymore possible bullets. After reaching the end of the block Paul spoke, out of breath. 

“Is everyone ok?” Each took their turn affirming that they were not hurt, just a bit shaken. Emily turned to her friend communicating with just their eyes that they all needed to get leave before her brothers had a chance to exit the building. “Alright, I need to get you home.” Paul said and took Emily’s shoulder and David followed suit with Scarlett. 

“No!” Emily said too forcefully, “I - We will get home, I promise. You need to get on your way,” she explained gently. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to go anywhere with Paul, that handsome, caring gentleman. He stood firm on his words and said again,

“Emily, really, I need to make sure you get home. I don’t know who the fuck those bastards were.” Scarlett let out a worried laugh at the irony of the situation and still couldn’t take her eyes off the doorway expecting any moment that the men would emerge and see them. Emily took her arm from him though it pained her to do so. 

“Please, Paul, really. You need to get going.” She said urgently. He took a step back and dropped his eyes to the ground, looking hurt. Defeated, he touched David on the shoulder, prompting him to let go of Scarlett’s arm. 

“It was lovely meeting you,” was all he spoke before turning and walking off into the dark alley way. Emily rifled around in her purse and pulled out some small bills shoving them into Scarlett’s hand. 

“Go. Now!” She said before beginning to turn away. 

“What? I’m not leaving you!” Her friend yelled back, grabbing onto her wrist, stopping her movement.

“Scarlett, go! Please. Before they come out.” She pleaded. Even her friend knew that there would be hell to pay if her family found out that she had been running around, getting into trouble with the Shelby girl. With eyes darting between the front door of the Eden Club and Emily’s worried expression Scarlett forced herself to embrace her friend. 

“Please be safe.” Emily nodded in response and they both took off into opposite directions. After quickly crossing in front of the building, the younger Shelby tried her best to hail a cab as many former club goers tried to do the same. Every few seconds she found herself looking over her shoulder praying that she wouldn’t turn to find her brother’s red face looking back at her. After a few failed attempts she saw a empty taxi just across the way parked right next to the entrance of the club. If she hurried, she might just be able to make it before her brothers emerged. With a quick decision she bolted as fast as her heels would carry her across the street and made it just steps the the cab door before she felt the shoulder of a much larger man connect with her own. As she was shoved back onto the hood of the cab she couldn’t help but shout,

“watch where yer’ fucking goin!” Just as any other Shelby would. She watched in anger as that very man climbed into the cab himself and the car began to drive away forcing her to move back onto the side walk. Collecting herself and still cursing the man under her breath she only made it a few steps from her place in front of the club before she heard her name called from behind her. 

It was John. The word pierced her soul like a knife. Without thinking, she swung around to see him standing only about 10 feet behind her as Thomas and Arthur filed out of the door. Without a second to reconsider, she ran. Though slowed down by her shoes and the lingering effects of alcohol, she carried herself briskly down the street. 

“Emily Lenora Shelby!” She heard Arthur roar from behind her. Continuing down the sidewalk shoving between the still clearing crowd she did not stop. Just before she reached the nearest intersection a strong hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around causing her to stumble. She was caught by her oldest brother’s hands of either shoulder lightly shaking her to emphasize each word as they came from his red, blood splattered face. 

“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you bloody mental?” She squinted to shield herself from the yelling as she put her hands to his chest to push him away. He wasn’t planning on letting her go lest she run again until he felt the hand of Tom guide him away from the younger girl. She almost preferred the outright rage of Arthur over the chilling coldness of Thomas, at least with the former, his true intentions were always clear. John soon arrived behind the men and took to consoling Arthur while Thomas pushed the girl to side of the road. Unwilling, she attempted to hold her ground against the man though a stronger grip on her upper arm and a stern look from his piercing eyes encouraged her to comply. She kept her head low has he was still catching his breath from the conflict and subsequent jog to catch his fleeing sister. Finally, in a low, gruff voice, he spoke. 

“In the club, ye?” She nodded her head but still wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Instead, she peered past him to see John and Arthur leaned in close to one another talking. Arthur waving his hands around like a lunatic while John tries to calm him down. Out of all her brothers, her and John butted heads the most. Maybe it was the age difference, sitting at just enough years to give them not much in common but enough to argue about. Though, when it was all said and done, she knew John would have her back just as much, if not more, than anyone else. She met his eyes in a quick glance before turning back to Tom’s shoes. Now, the more pragmatic Shelby took in a deep breath to gather his thoughts before continuing the conversation with his sister. 

“Why? Eh?” He said quieter this time. She couldn’t tell if his low voice was an attempt to deescalate the situation or to intimidate her into telling the truth. Well, the truth as it may be, wasn’t that interesting. Emily shrugged and only spared him a small glance up. She went to the Eden club that evening for the same reason as any other girl of her year would; to have fun. 

“You have no business being at those clubs. Getting yourself fucking killed, right?” He said lowering himself to her level, even closer to her face. Her jaw tensed as she thought of a thousand words she could say back to him.

“Everything was fine until you bastards shot up the place.”

“Weren’t you just at the same club, Tom?”

“It’s none of your business what I do.”

Using her better judgment though, she held her tongue. The irony of the situation was not lost on Tommy. He knew that the standard he held for his sister was much different than he held for the men of the family, though he held it steadfast. At the end of the day, he knew Emily was a good girl. Smart, calculated, quick, and usually honest. When the silence hung in the air for too long, he took a gentle hand and guided her face to meet his eyes. 

“Don’t scare me like that again.” He said pointedly with his finger pointed at her face. Emily pursed her lips and gave a curt nod before he pulled her in for a quick but firm hug and placed one kiss on the top of her head. Trying to break away from the clutches are her brother once more she took a step away from Thomas and said, 

“I’ll see you at home,” before attempting to leave in the opposite direction. He let out a sigh once again and wrapped a strong, possessive hand around her arm once more. His lips parted and he eyebrow went up in astonishment, almost as if he was testing her to defy him once again. She looked in his eyes a moment longer, unwavering, before following him back to the other men. Thomas cleared his throat and released the grasp on the girl before speaking, 

“Let’s just go home, shall we.” The four walked in uncomfortable silence back to the car, just over a block away from the fateful scene. As they walked, her oldest brother moved closer to her eventually putting a hand on her upper back and bending down to her level.

“You knows I just want to protect you, right, love?” He offered in a nicer tone than before. Emily knew and nodded a reply. 

“I know.” 

“It’s just you can’t go running around like that.” Before he could get another sentence out, Thomas called out from the front of the group. 

“She knows, brother.”  They eventually made it to the Bentley and it was John that opened the door for his sister to enter the back seat. As she took the less-than-sober step up into the vehicle her brother gently pushed her, just to see how unstable she was.

“Acting like a fuckin’ harlot,” John laughed quietly to chastise the younger girl. Quickly, Emily turned to face him hunched over in the car and raised her purse as if she was going to hit him. 

“Oi, you fuckin’ bastard!” She seethed. Before the two could go at it Thomas darted a look at them in the rear view mirror and raised his voice in a menacing shout. 

“Enough!” Was all it took for the pair to quiet down and sit silently for the rest of the ride home. 

[essektheylyss]

Honestly, the implication with the Sendings that there is something wrong with the leylines and the weave of magic in Exandria is so funny to me. There is a non-zero chance, not even a low chance, that Ludinus is pissed because he got tossed to some random point in Exandria, and now he has to walk places. And maybe get on a ship. God forbid.*

But this also has a lot of other implications. The leylines tend to be associated with both intra- and interdimensional travel, as well as things like Scrying, Sending of course, and possibly other methods of divination.

It is also possible that, given what we know about dunamis, that dunamancy is also tied to the leylines or the weave in some way.

We know that divine magic is at least working—but we only know this to be true of divine magic granted by a god of the Pantheon.

So, with all of that in mind, a HIGHLY incomplete sample of things that may or may not be happening across Exandria while the Hells A-Team is traveling to Uthodurn:

Yussa is torn between gratitude for being free from the menace of Caleb Widogast teleporting into his house and Jester Lavorre sending him messages at all hours, and irritation that he can't get any of his work done because it all has to do with planar magic.

Any gratitude wears off when Fjord and Jester come banging on his door because Jester cannot send any messages nor contact Artagan, who is bound by the rules of the planes and by extension the leylines (since he can, unlike the gods, pass mostly freely from plane to plane).

Fjord's magic is completely fine because he is operating on sheer force of will and obeys no laws known to mortals, physics, or nature. Essek, who was holed up in the Lavorres' spare room for the week, is absolutely pissed because half of his magic is broken (and also he has no idea where his partner is).

Caleb and Beau take like seven hours to get the collar off before discovering that they are stuck somewhere in the Issylran tundra. (They would probably get fined by the Slayer's Take for the number of bounties they take out their rage on, if the Slayer's Take had ANY idea who the fuck they were.)

Caduceus is cheerfully gardening and has no idea this has happened. Melora decides not to bother him. Let him live in bliss, unlike the rest of Exandria.

Dorian has been having a meltdown into his Sending stone while Opal and Dariax run rampant and Cyrus looks very pretty but does absolutely nothing. It has no effect.

Keyleth is sitting in a daze somewhere next to a tree that will not open wondering if the last thirty-six hours were a fever dream.

The city of Syngorn saw the moon nonsense, panicked, tried to hop to the Feywild, then panicked harder. Fortunately, they could not contact anyone, and Allura Vysoren did not have to hear about it.

Ludinus has murdered several people. It has gotten him no closer to leaving whatever random part of the Tal'dorei countryside he is menacing.

Somewhere, there is a bird. That bird saw this beam, looked down into a very old, very precious orb, and said, "Not this fucking shit again."

All in all, very funny couple of days Exandria is happening. I'm sure things will not get any worse.

*I know he traveled by ship to the peace talks, okay, but that was for appearances. He didn't have shit to be doing at the time.

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 5: Honorable Intentions

“So how does Spite feel about Illario?”  “SPINELESS. WHINY-” “About how he feels about most people.” “And that is…?” Taking his coffee from the counter, he sipped it slowly before responding.  “Impatient.” “Even me?” She batted her lashes. “Do you ever think he’ll just get fed up and-” “Why don’t we talk about something else, mm?”

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???

Summary: With both Spite and Rook keeping him on edge, Lucanis looks for distraction in meal prep...

Word Count: 2.6k

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! warnings: I use the word cock ONCE. (sorry) Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Aunt Viama stood barefoot on the couch, peeking through the window nervously. 

“Viago, take Fiamma to her room!” She hissed, “Dante, what is she doing here?”

“Relax, she doesn’t bite. It’s probably a contract,” said Fiamma’s father, as the two children snuck to their favorite eavesdropping spot in the hall and exchanged a look.

“Are you kidding me? My sister’s been in the ground one week! You’re grieving! We’re grieving!”

He motioned her aside and opened the door, ignoring her objections.

“Caterina, to what do I owe the honor?” He beckoned her inside with a polite gesture.

Calm and collected, the First Talon entered the den, her cane tapping against the wooden floor. A boy, roughly Fiamma’s age, clung to her coattails as she walked. Lucanis trailed behind them, his head bowed. 

“I’m sorry to trouble you during such a painful time, Dante,” she kissed him on each cheek in greeting, “but my grandson has gifted your daughter something that was not his to give away.” 

“What did you do, Fiammetta?” Viago demanded, pinching her arm.

“It wasn’t me. It was Lucanis!” she whispered, slapping his hand away and running to her bedroom. Throwing herself under her bed, she retrieved one of her mother’s old hat boxes and pried off the lid, sifting through her trinkets in search of the opal. The sound of Caterina’s muffled voice carried through the wall from the next room.

“I encourage my grandson to steal whatever his heart desires, if he can get away with it, presuming he’d go after sweets or knives. Instead, he takes books and gems.” She huffed. 

“The makings of a good Crow,” Dante said. “An eye for knowledge and beauty.” 

Caterina made a noise of disapproval. “Any other would have been inconsequential, but this one…has history. I was having a new setting made for this one and he swiped it before I could get it to my jeweler…”

With a pounding heart, Fiamma carefully took out the gem and cradled it in her palm one last time, before she closed her fist around it, stashed the box back under her bed, and shuffled into the den.

“Miss Caterina.” She straightened her posture, extending her hand. “Please don’t be mad. Lucanis just wanted to make me feel better.”

Dante’s mouth fell open in surprise as Caterina bent down and plucked the opal from his daughter’s hands. His eyes widened as she held it in the light, examining it. “Is that…”

“Yes.” Caterina retrieved her coin purse from inside her coat and slipped it inside. “You are a very honorable girl, Fiammetta. My grandsons could learn a great deal from you.” 

Behind her, Lucanis raised his head, his brown eyes heavy with embarrassment. “I’m sorry for getting you in trouble, Fiammetta.”

“Nonsense, Lucanis. She isn’t in trouble for your oversight.” Caterina snapped.

Fiamma’s father crouched beside him. “It was a kind gesture, Lucanis.” He said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure you meant well.”

Caterina nodded. “I apologize for the intrusion, Dante. My deepest condolences…but if you don’t mind lending me just a bit more of your time, there’s some Crow business I’d like to discuss.” She glanced around. “Is there somewhere we can chat?”

Dante rose to his feet. “Of course. I’ll have Viama put some coffee on.” He turned to Fiamma and kissed the top of her head. 

“Why don’t you take Lucanis and Illario to play with Viago? I’m sure he’s not far...” her father murmured, frowning with gentle disapproval as his gaze drifted toward the shadow in the hallway. 

As the adults departed, Viago emerged from the hall, nudging Lucanis with his elbow and gesturing towards the front door with a subtle tilt of his head. With a shameful look, Lucanis tore his eyes away from Fiamma’s and followed her cousin outside. 

Charging forward, the youngest Dellamorte seized her hand, shaking it a little too hard.

“I’m Illario.” He said earnestly. “Can I see the rest of your house? I bet it’s not as big as my Nonna’s!”

Fiamma blinked, her gaze moving past him to the door as it shut behind the older boys. Forbidden from leaving the house without her father’s escort, she had no choice but to stay behind.

“Um…sure.” She said, trying to hide the disappointment in her tone. “Do you like art? My papa has lots of paintings in his office.”

Illario grinned, giving a charming bow, as if reenacting something he’d seen an adult do. 

“I like whatever you like.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

Not even a dragon attack could close the Treviso markets. The following day, they opened as usual, with a nervous undercurrent of chatter among the merchants. Lucanis browsed the stalls, taking the opportunity to shop while Rook slept in. Viago and Teia had already left to handle Crow matters at the casino, and he needed some time to clear his head.

Spite’s unpredictable nature gave him an aversion to sleep these days, and thanks to Rook, he wouldn’t have slept last night even if he wanted to. Lying on Viago’s couch, he stared at the ceiling, struggling to dismiss the images her words had evoked as his cock strained uncomfortably against the front of his trousers. Worse, Spite took a maddening amount of delight in Lucanis’ discomfort, and even more so at Rook’s mischievousness. It worried him - how would Spite react to Rook the next time he took control? He couldn’t risk sleeping, couldn’t risk Spite climbing into bed with her when she was inebriated, vulnerable, alone…

“MAYBE ROOK WANTS YOU IN HER BED. SPITE IS JUST HELPING.”

He shuddered and deposited a few gold coins in a merchant’s palm, wrapping up his purchase and heading back to Viago’s apartment. If he was lucky, Rook would wake with a nasty hangover and have forgotten the entire evening.

Upon his return, the house was still quiet. Lucanis deposited his groceries on the counter and lit the stove, setting a kettle of water atop it, before venturing down the hall to knock softly on Rook’s door. He cracked it open, knowing if he let her sleep any longer, she’d be furious at him for not waking her. 

Through the gap, he watched her lift her head, brushing her tousled hair from her face to look over her bare shoulders at him. Her white sheets slid down, settling just below the curve of her waist, and he shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. Holding them over her breasts, she squinted at him and rolled onto her back. 

“Lucanis?” She muttered, shielding her eyes from the light pouring in through her windows, “What time is it?”

He averted his gaze, preferring to stare at the sun than endure this any longer. 

“Midday.”

She jerked forward. “Why did you let me sleep so late?” 

“I thought you might need it.” He said, turning back to the hall, “Get dressed and come get some coffee. I’ll make breakfast.”

Lucanis moved with measured steps, his eyes glued to the floor until he reached the kitchen. He prepped Viago’s glass coffee maker, admiring the craftsmanship, and pulled out a cutting board, peeling and mincing several cloves of garlic. 

Rook wandered in soon after, hair freshly brushed and clearly having capitalized on the availability of her old wardrobe. She wore a lace-necked blouse, a crow brooch pinned at the base of her throat, and a pair of loose, black trousers. Around her shoulders, she had draped a velvet purple cloak that fell just above the soles of her leather boots. 

He glanced up with a raised eyebrow, then returned his focus to the tomato he was coring.  

“I made coffee.” He said stiffly. 

“Of course you did.” As she went to pour herself a cup, her hip brushed against his. 

“SMELLS LIKE LAVENDER AND CITRUS BLOSSOM.”

He cleared his throat, picking up another tomato. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Morning hangover aside?” she sat down across the counter from him and took a sip from her mug. “I appreciate you trying to relieve me of some of my guilt yesterday, but let’s keep the vintage away until after we’ve killed a few gods, hmm?” 

He smiled, letting a huff of air escape from his nose. “Of course.”

“How did you sleep?” 

“Fine.” He lied, dicing a bell pepper while admiring Viago’s kitchen knives. They were sharp enough to make a clean kill if they needed to. Maybe that was the point.

“Can I help?” She nodded towards the stove. Did she remember a single thing she said last night? Was she toying with him? Or too embarrassed to bring it up? 

“YOU BRING IT UP!”

“The pan should be warm enough. You can oil it.”

She stood and rummaged through Viago’s cabinets, retrieving a bottle and uncapping it. “So how does Spite feel about Illario?” 

“SPINELESS. WHINY-”

“About how he feels about most people.” Lucanis scraped garlic and onion into the sizzling oil, adding an assortment of spices. 

“And that is…?”

He incorporated the tomatoes and a dash of cream, stirring as he tried to ignore her curious gaze over his shoulder. Taking his coffee from the counter, he sipped it slowly before responding. 

“Impatient.”

“Even with me?” She batted her lashes. “Do you ever think he’ll just get fed up and-”

“Why don’t we talk about something else, mm?” Lucanis suggested, pulling out one of his market bags and retrieving a few eggs. He steered Rook aside, placing his hands on her shoulders so he could reach the stove.

“THE COUNTER. SHE’D LIKE TO BE BENT OVER-”

“Oh. Sure.” She returned to her seat. “Thanks for making me breakfast.”

“It’s not entirely unselfish. Viago has a nicer kitchen than the Lighthouse does.” He said, breaking the eggs into the stewed tomatoes.

Rook rested her chin on her hands. “True.”

“Is it nice being back?” Lucanis asked, removing the pan from the stovetop and dividing its contents across two plates. He gave her one, then took out a baguette and sliced off a few pieces for them to share. 

“In some ways. When I was on Viago’s bad side, it wasn’t always so nice.”

Lucanis settled beside her, mopping at his eggs with his bread, letting the yoke bleed into the tomatoes. 

“I might still be on his Viago’s bad side. Who knows?” Fiamma said and took a bite of her food. She uttered a soft moan of pleasure, and Lucanis dropped his silverware. Rook remained oblivious and continued eating. 

They finished breakfast in silence, the hallmark of a well-prepared meal, and Lucanis rose, picking up her plate and mug and taking them to the washbasin. They needed to get out of here, for more reasons than one. 

“I told you, Viago is used to picking up after me,” Rook said with a grin. 

So she did remember last night. 

“If he has a good side, I’d like to stay on it.” Lucanis said, scrubbing the dishes clean. Rook joined him near the sink, grabbing a towel and holding her hand out. He passed her a plate, and she dried it carefully. 

“Are we…good?” She asked, pushing the plate aside to take the next one. 

“We’re good.” Lucanis said, shaking water from his hands and wiping them on his pants. “Let’s get back to work.”

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

The days that followed dragged on. Devastated by Neve’s absence, Bellara became determined to find a dragon hunter and a Veil Expert, furiously taking notes and charging ahead with renewed vigor. And find them she did. After excursions to Rivain and the Necropolis, Emmrich Volkarin, a Mortalitasi, and Taash, a Qunari with a talent for fire-breathing, joined their team. Emmrich arrived with an animated skeleton assistant, Manfred, who was quickly becoming Rook’s favorite recruit. More odd, but enjoyable personalities, to add to their collective. 

“So Lucanis, you’re an Antivan Crow?” Taash asked, their feet kicked up on the dinner table as Lucanis prepared dinner.

“Yes. Like Rook.” He replied from the stove. Rook could feel his disappointment from across the room - he undoubtedly missed the accommodations of Viago’s kitchen. 

“Do all Antivan Crows have demons?”

“What? No!” He spun around. “Spite was put into me by the Venatori.”

Since their arrival, their new companion had bombarded Lucanis and Rook with endless, bizarre questions about Crow customs. Varric would have relished the chance to spin his wild tales for Taash. Unfortunately, he took most of his meals in his chambers and wasn’t keen on visitors other than Rook.  

“Demons typically infect mages through manipulation, but Lucanis’ situation is…rather unique.” Emmrich explained. 

“Oh. That’s messed up.” Taash removed their feet from the table and leaned forward. “What’s Spite like?”

“Angry. Impulsive. Annoying.” Lucanis said, taking the soup he was making off the fire. 

“If he’s so unhappy, why doesn’t he just leave?”

“It would likely kill me.”

“No offense, but why would he care?”

Lucanis hesitated. 

“Because we have a deal.”

Rook’s head snapped up as she set Emmrich’s bowl down in front of him. “You made a deal with a demon? ”

Manfred let out a hiss of discontent, stomping his feet in a panic. 

“Oh, Lucanis…” Emmrich lamented, shaking his head. “That was a very foolish thing to do…”

“Zara was waiting for Spite to break out of my body like a moth in a cocoon. I convinced him we wanted the same thing and promised I’d give it to him.”

“And that was that?” Asked Taash. 

“Her. Dead.” Lucanis said, bringing the soup to the table and ladling it into the bowls Rook had set out. The large doors to the kitchen swung open, and Davrin entered, Assan playfully nipping at his heels. He took the furthest seat from Lucanis at the head of the table. The two hadn’t gotten on particularly well ever since Davrin found out about Spite. 

“Play nice,” Rook warned in a low voice, handing the Grey Warden a goblet and filling it with port. She took a seat beside Lucanis, whose end of the table always filled up slowly, everyone wary of his demonic passenger. 

As she blew on her spoonful of soup, Rook caught sight of Bellara entering with Harding and, to her astonishment, Neve. The three appeared to be mid conversation, putting her slightly on edge.

“Are they really gods, though?” Harding asked, looking up at the detective.

“They’re gods. Or the closest thing to them.” 

“Neve!” Rook breathed, setting down her silverware and bracing her hands on the table. “You’re back.”

“Yeah.” she said, not sparing her so much as a glance as she took her seat next to Davrin. “I am.”

The cold shoulder stung, and Rook lowered her head, taking a measured inhale. Neve’s feelings were her own, and she had the right to be disappointed.

“A couple of new people have joined our team since you left,” Harding, seeking to ease the tension, chimed in. “This is Professor Emmrich Volkarin, he’s our fade expert. That’s his assistant beside him, Manfred. And there’s Taash, our dragon hunter.”

“Hey.” Taash said.

Emmrich gave an elegant wave. “Charmed.” 

“A dragon hunter?” Neve asked Taash, “Minrathous could have used you.” 

Rook stiffened as something grazed her knee beneath the table. Startled, her eyes flicked to Lucanis, who offered a tight smile and reassuringly squeezed her knee.

Mierda. This was trouble. 

“So what’s going on?” Rook asked Neve, tearing her gaze from Lucanis. He withdrew his hand and glanced down awkwardly, returning to his dinner.  

“Back home? What isn’t?” Neve sighed, mustering all the civility she could. “Look, you made an impossible call without enough information. I get it. It’s the corner the gods put us in. It just…might take time to shake off.”

Rook dipped her chin. “Of course.” 

“You are back, though, right?” Bellara asked. 

Neve lifted her wineglass and took a deep drink. 

“Yeah, Bel. I’m back.”

[quitealotofsodapop]

Just read through the MKEgged tag, and where's Redson? I want to see the roller-coaster he goes on of "A baby!? Wait, who's the father If it can't be me? Oh, okay, no other parent. I'll step in and help, what do you mean the pregnancy has a high mortality rate!?"

Just this guy trying to figure out what he's feeling and how to handle things with this baby, because yay baby, but also No you're not allowed to die!"

Prev.

haha yes! XD

Red Son's bull-brain tells him "Whomst is the father!?" immediately, even if him and MK aren't in a fully romantic relationship yet. His infatuation tells him that only *he* can father Noodle Boy's progeny!

The fact that the pregnancy was magical in nature calms him down only a little bit... until he learns that MK's true species have a high maternal mortality rate due to this unique form of reproduction.

Red Son, busting on into MK's prenatal appointment: "Noodle Boy!! Who said that you're allowed to die!? I strictly forbid it!"

Red Son goes out of his way to investigate what knowledge is available on Stone Monkeys so he can devise a way to help MK survive and recover. He knocks on the door of every soul he can think of who would hold some idea of what to do; Lao Tzu, The Gold Star of Venus, and even Guanyin herself.

The alchemist and planet god both only had second-hand accounts of how Stone Monkeys lived, but provided copies of their literature all the same.

Approaching her old master was a little awkward, but the Bodhisattva Guanyin is a patron god of safe childbirth, and Red Son wanted to have their input on the matter. To her surprise, Guanyin was equally concerned for MK's well-being - and had already offered to attend the birth to ensure that they could monitor MK and the baby. Red Son learns from Guanyin that Sun Wukong himself had such questions many centuries ago, but curiously dropped the matter sometime after the Journey. Former master and disciple share a warm goodbye, finally reunited by their worry over a noodle monkey-boy.

Xiwangmu was still mourning the loss of her husband, so Red Son thought it improper to bother her on such a matter - but clearly Lao Tzu or Gold Star blabbed. The very next time Red Son stepped into the Celestial Realm, he found himself swept into a suffocating hug by the Queen Mother of the West.

Xiwangmu, weeping: "Oh, my little fire opal. You are so proactive! Scouring the Heavens and Earth to find a way to save your mate and child!" Red Son, confused: "EHH!?!?"

Turns out, the Queen Mother had a gut-reaction to hearing that her grandson's beloved ("WHO TOLD!?" shrieks Red) Monkey Prince was pregnant. And that reaction was; "GREAT-GRANDCUBS?!?!"

Red Son barely has a second to object. The Queen Mother weeps how the Jade Emperor is to miss the birth of his first great-grandchild, but that the pregnancy is a light in a very dark time for her and the court. She orders her court secretary to give Red Son unlimited access to the celestial library so that he can continue his research.

After the whirlwind of discovering that apparently even Heaven itself blames him for MK's Egg, Red Son turns to only two known members of the Noodle Boy's species.

Sun Wukong and the Six Eared Macaque.

The Macaque was the most difficult to get information out of since he kept slipping into the shadows whenever Red brought up questions on his species. Luckily one attempt/battle (it got out of hand) lead to the appearance of Sun Wukong on the scene.

Wukong: "What's the issue, firecracker?" Red Son, holding thick notepad: "I need to understand your species so I can devise a way to prevent MK's stone egg from killing him!" Macaque, turns off powers: "Oh! Why didn't you say so? I thought you were trying to dissect me or something!" XD Wukong: "We know almost everything there is on our species, so fire away kiddo." Red Son: "Yes! Finally! Question 1; in the case of self-spawned eggs, is the child a genetic clone of the parent?" Wukong & Macaque: (*both shake their heads*) Wukong: "Oh no. Its not a clone. You see, the Egg absorbs Dao from it's surroundings - not just it's parent. So it steals bits of DNA from whatever troop happens to be around. You know like friends, family-" Macaque, slyly: "Former mates." Wukong: "Former ma- hey!" (*glares*) Red Son, thinking: "So an additional source of life energy could supplement MK's own depleted supply?" Wukong: "Yeah... but the healthiest option is usually a dear friend or life partner. Someone who can cling to them and supply the most juice. Also helpful if the pregnant person wants their kid to look like their fave person." Macaque, knowing smile: "Or... whoever they have a big crush on." Red Son: (*hair-flames briefly flicker pink in blush as he imagines a red-furred baby monkey with calf hooves*) Red Son: "Wait. How come you both know so much about this topic? I know Sun Wukong has access to the celestial library, but Macaque has been barred from the palace grounds since the rebellion! Why do you share the same knowledge?" Wukong & Macaque: (*both start spluttering and choking on air*) Wukong, trying to find words: "You see-! We uh...!" Macaque: (*fades into background at 50% opacity, hiding face in scarf*) Red Son, realising: "Ah. I see. Thank you for your input, gentlemen." Wukong: "Where are you going now?" Red Son: "I'm going over to Noodle Boy's place. I have been invited for company." (*Red Son leaves. Macaque phases back in*) Wukong: "Well. The Egg might not be her doing. But she certainly wishes it was." Macaque: "I'm just glad they didn't try getting more out of us." Wukong, cheeky grin: "Like what? How we both know so much about Stone Eggs because once upon a time we wanted some of our own?" Macaque: (*hides face in scarf again*) "Shut up, peaches."

As for the Demon Bull parents? Well..

PIF, calmly writing letters: "Even if the child was not made the traditional fashion, we will both adore them all the same. I expect any grandchildren of mine to be as beloved as a prince or princess ought to be." DBK, arms full of baby shower gifts: "Make sure to note the exact hour, day, month, and year of the child's birth! It's very important for divining the calf's fortune!" Red Son, flames twitching: "Are you two-!? ARE YOU PLANNING A ROYAL BIRTH ANNOUNCEMENT!?" PIF: "Do not shout dear. My mother visited shortly after you left. Seems that a certain child of mine has been asking around about celestial monkeys and safe magical birthing practices, and it's stirred the court's rumour mill. Me and the simians are planning a formal announcement once the child arrives." Red Son, blushing pink: "I would have gone through the same effort if I only considered them a mere ally." PIF: "I know you would. But a mere ally, does not donate so much life energy to the parent in hopes that the child becomes theirs." Red Son: (*blush grows even bigger, flames spit embers onto the surrounding furniture*) PIF, brushes embers off of desk: "Hopefully, Xiaotian doesn't experience the terrible heartburn I did whilst carrying you." Red Son: "Mother!" DBK, wincing with sympathy: "Only exacerbated by your cravings, my love! You had a great desire for charcoal and spiced meat on the bone."

MK texts Red Son a few hours later asking if he'd like to go out for some barbecue; "Just started craving it for some reason. Oh! And we should make sure to get cheese tea too! Acid reflux acting up rn and I need something to quench the flame."

Red is so down bad.

It's not all sunshine and baby monkeys though - there is genuine worry across the families about MK's condition. None more so than the men who raised him.

(*Red is leaving MK's place after a hang out session, when a certain pig-man in the kitchen speaks up*) Pigsy: "Hey... thanks for being there for him." Red Son, surprised: "Huh? Oh! No problem..." Pigsy: "I know you like him. Like, like-like him. I don't exactly approve but.... you've been going out of your way to find ways to help me. Make sure he..." Pigsy: (*trails off, eyes puffy*) Red Son: (*quietly approaches, awkwardly places a hand on Pigsy's shoulder*) Pigsy: "Promise me something." Red Son: "Ok." Pigsy: "If the worst happens... I want you to still be there. For them. Not just because you like him. But because you really care about him and his kid." Red Son, certain: "I do. I truly care for Xiaotian. And I wish to be there for him through it all. And if the unthinkable were to occur, I would still be there for them." Pigsy, wipes tears with sleeve: "Thanks, punk." Red Son: "Again, no problem." Pigsy, changing tone: "Now! What's with this letter I got saying MK and his baby are gonna be presented to the Heavenly and Infernal Court?" Red Son, remembers previous encounters: "oops."

Once he fully explains the misunderstanding in heaven, Pigsy whacks Red with a spatula.

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Katniss feeling insecure one random afternoon after seeing Peeta interact with some pretty girlies and asking him later that night all quiet if he thinks she’s pretty 🥺

I meant for this to be funny and then it turned out... not funny. Oh well. Enjoy some post-Mockingjay not fluff but not really angst??? No warning tags on this one.

“Having an eye for beauty isn’t the same thing as a weakness,” Peeta points out. “Except possibly when it comes to you.” - Catching Fire, Chapter 15 “You’re not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty?” - Mockingjay, Chapter 16

It takes me longer than usual to finish trading with the new butcher. She’s originally from Ten and came here after marrying a soldier from Thirteen. She refused to live underground any longer and he tried living in Ten, but felt too exposed and jumpy in the flat plains of that district. Twelve was their compromise. But I haven’t had the chance to build the kind of rapport with her that I had with Rooba.

Rooba. I make a mental note to ask Peeta to draw her for the memory book tonight. We’ll both have memories of her that need to be recorded.

When I finish with the butcher, mostly satisfied with the cuts of deer meat and the coin I walk away with, I make my way over to the bakery. Usually I’d help Peeta close for the day. I got lucky catching the deer so close to the fence, but it still took time for me to bring back enough help to drag it to the butcher.

Surprisingly, there are still a handful of customers in the bakery. Unusual, this late in the day. I hasten my steps, thinking Peeta might want some help getting rid of the chatty customers, and seeing me after a hunt usually does the trick.

As I reach the window, though, I slow my pace. It’s not just any customers. It’s the Lassiter girls. They moved here after the war with their father, who used to be the head foreman at a perfume factory in District One. Apparently someone thought his skills would translate well to running a medicine factory, because that’s what his job here is. And his five daughters -- Neroli, Dior, Ambrette, Clary, and Opal -- aged twenty-four to sixteen, spaced two years apart down the line, are each just as beautiful as the last. Gossip holds that they each have a different mother, and while there’s been no confirmation from their father on that point, they’re each so strikingly different in looks and coloring that it wouldn’t surprise me.

They’re currently clustered near the counter, a bouquet of undoubtedly sweet smelling flowers. Their dresses a rainbow of eye-catching hues in expensive looking fabrics. All I can do is snort as I think of how dull and dingy their clothes would’ve been if they’d lived here when there was still a coal mine. But their hair, although different shades, all gleams in glossy waves and curls and curtains of shimmering silk in the bright lights of the bakery.

I hear Peeta’s laughter then, followed shortly by the twittering chorus of the Lassiter girls’ giggling. Ugh. They cannot be serious. Not my Peeta.

None of them are married yet, and there’ve already been several District Twelve men turned away from their front door step with dazed looks in their eyes, like they couldn’t believe they’d actually dared to propose to one of the Lassiter girls. And while this group ambush of my Peeta gives me an idea of what sort of partner they might be looking for, it’s unacceptable.

I push through the bakery door and attempt a smile. Neroli sees me first. The oldest, and by far the smartest of this bunch, our eyes meet and her lips curl in a smile. She’s dressed in a dark, forest green dress. Her dark, almost black hair swept to one side, into a long, sleek ponytail. There’s no denying that she’s stunning. Long, sooty black lashes frame her pale eyes that I’ve never been able to decide if they’re blue or gray. Some part of me knows that if I were somehow more beautiful, I might look like her.

Neroli glances at Peeta, then back at me. She inclines her head slightly towards me, and I’m not certain what she means until she speaks.

“Father will be wondering what’s keeping us,” she announces to her sisters. “Come on. Get your purchases and let’s leave these two turtle doves alone.”

She still pauses to say something to Peeta before she and her sisters clear out, but the glance she throws my way before shutting the door behind her makes me think that maybe Neroli and I might’ve been friends under different circumstances. When I finally manage to look at Peeta, he’s head down in the cases, cleaning them out.

“Lock the door for me? How was your day in the woods?”

“Not bad,” I tell him as I throw the bolt. “I got a deer.”

“That’s great!”

“Put this in the cold storage while I sweep?” I hand him the package from the butchers and he hands me a broom across the counter. It’s one of my usual chores and it isn’t long after that we’re headed home. But all through dinner, I can’t get the image of the flock of Lassiter girls twittering around him out of my head. 

I distract myself after we clean up the kitchen with the memory book, telling Peeta about the deer today and how things went with the new butcher. We share a few memories of Rooba while he sketches her and I write them down in draft. We manage to finish her page and seal it into the book before it’s very late.

And while Peeta showers with me, and stands next to me while we brush our teeth and get ready for bed, he somehow feels distant. As I lay down and watch him as he carefully removes his prosthetic, I can’t help but think again about the Lassiter girls.

“Goodnight, my love,” he murmurs as he turns to me, slipping his legs under the covers and cupping my cheek in his palm before kissing my lips once, softly.

“Goodnight,” I respond and blink when he turns out the light and lays down.

But I can’t get comfortable. And behind my closed eyes, I see a still ravaged Peeta, the hijacking reversal barely even begun. His knuckles pale as he gripped the bedsheets beneath him and restraints holding him down, safely away from me.

“You’re not very big, are you? Or particularly pretty.”

I huff out a heavy breath and jam the heels of my palms into my closed eyes, trying to push the image out of my brain. He’s laying right here beside me. He kissed me and called me his love just minutes ago. What Peeta and I have puts the stars in the sky and the poets’ words on the page to shame with its depth and significance. That’s far better than some superficial beauty.

And yet the words still slip past my lips.

“Peeta,” I whisper, and he hums in response so that I’m not sure if he’s fully awake or not. “Do you think I’m pretty?”

There’s a few seconds of silence and then I hear the sound of the sheets rustling as Peeta turns over to face me.

“Are you serious?”

“It’s just a question,” I say and smack my hands down onto the bed, right at my sides. They’re still clenched into fists and I try to hold back the sudden, ridiculous tears welling up in my eyes. Because his hesitancy to answer tells me what I need to know. How stupid of me to ask.

“Katniss, honey,” he breathes and moves through the dark, pulling me into his arms. “You will always be as radiant as the sun to me,” he tells me and I snort, wishing I’d never told him that phrase or how I’d once used it. “No, I’m serious. Katniss, you take my breath away.”

“But I’m still not particularly pretty. At least not as pretty as Neroli Lassiter, am I?” I poke and I can feel his frame stiffening besides me.

“No. Oh no, no, you can’t believe what I said that day, Katniss.”

“But you were right. I’m not very big.”

“And we both looked like shit that day because we’d been through too much shit. That doesn’t mean I meant it, Katniss. You have to know I was… I was trying to hurt you that day. Hurt you the way I thought you’d hurt me. Because I thought you’d used me, chosen Gale and the rebels, and left me to die or worse in that arena.”

“I know,” I say and finally manage to turn over into his embrace, burying my face in his chest as he caresses my back and whispers a hundred apologies for his careless words. I inhale his scent and let his hands soothe me.

So when he slips his fingers beneath my chin, I let him lift my face to his. I close my eyes and savor the brush of his lips against mine.

“You once told me that I had a weakness for beautiful things,” he whispers. “Real or not real?”

“Real,” I answer without pause. I can smell the horses and feel the warmth of Cinna’s glowing ember costume. I can see Peeta in front of me, radiant and beautiful, and smiling in amusement at my assessment of him. “But you don’t have a weakness for beauty. Only an eye for it,” I remind him.

“So yes, Neroli Lassiter is a beautiful woman--”

“And her sisters?” I prod and I can feel Peeta smiling against my lips as he kisses me once.

“And her sisters are, too. But you’re the only beautiful person I have a weakness for. No one else has left a lasting impression the way you have.”

I can’t help but smile stupidly at the repetition of his words from the cave. The reminder that somewhere amongst the acting for the cameras, we always had at least a sliver, a taste, a fraction of or at least the roots of something real.

“I’m still a goner for you, Katniss Everdeen, real or not real?” he whispers, and I already know the answer. I know what he wants me to say, because it’s true.

“Real.”

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

hi there i'm a huge fan of the arranged marriage trope, and i'll be very happy for anything you have about that verse

"I still haven't a clue how she even got out of the house," Alfred said shaking his head.

"She's very good at getting around security," Bruce reminded, "and probably not thinking very clearly."

"Definitely not," Alfred said, watching the snow fall out the window, thinking back the how small and lost you sounded. "I have her doctors coming to assess her."

Bruce nodded and exhaled slowly. He shouldn't have taken you on that trip. Not so soon into your recovery. But you'd been doing well. Getting along fine. You probably would have been fine, if it hadn't been for getting caught in the rain with him and then being stuck in a freezing cold series of rooms- which caused a cold. And then pneumonia. And now your recovery and your illness... well.

"Mostly as a precaution," Alfred said quickly.

"Of course," Bruce said. "Her coughing is still horrible. And her ribs are never going to heal at this rate."

"Poor thing," Alfred tutted. "But I think Opal was happy to see her."

He smiled a little, "I'm sure. She's happy to see anyone but, we're not Y/N." Bruce winced internally. He should have taken you down himself. Of course he should have- You were going to miss Opal terribly. If you were feeling lonely you were going to look for comfort. And nothing was going to comfort you more than that. "I should probably-"

In the hall the sound of coughing made both of them turn towards the door and Bruce stood. You're barefoot and practically crumpled with the force of the cough, whimpering with pain between gasps for air and he stroked your back, kneeling next to you. "Why are you out of bed, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Can't sleep," you gasp. "Too cold. Now it hurts."

"Come sit with us," Bruce said gathering you up gently. If you were cold and lonely, maybe- maybe you'd sit with them. Sit with him. He'd shared a bed with you now. Held you while you cried in your sleep. "It's less drafty down here."

He sat with you on the couch, keeping you on his lap and taking a blanket from Alfred, carefully not looking up. Your skin was chilled and goosebumped. And he wrapped you up, keeping you against his chest. Warm was a start. If that would make you stay still and rest, so be it.

[tiredqueermushroom]

There's definitely a dichotomy when it comes to Orym and Dorian. Both have vastly different experiences with loss, grief, and trying to honour their dead. Orym lost his husband and father at the hands of Ludinus, Otohan, and the vanguard; and has been carrying that weight with him for 7 years. He intends to honour them by making sure the vanguard can't hurt anyone else. Otohan is dead, and Ludinus will die, orym gets to have a semblance of justice, as well as save the gods and spare Exandria from the unknown.

This is in stark contrast to Dorian. He lost his brother and his two surrogate sisters (Opal & Fy'rai) at the hands of a betrayer God, and when a prime was called upon; she did nothing as it benefited the greater cause Dorian can't even begin to fully grieve, so it puts it away, locks it up inside of him, despite how heavily the loss weighs on him. Dorian can't get revenge. Can't even have justice. He doesn't get to honour his brother. Dorian has to live with that deep unfairness because the fate of the world demands it of him. What is personal grief in the face of every life on Exandria?

Expect now with Arch-heart's proposal, Dorian can finally reconcile these two waring sides within himself. His desire to save as many people as possible and get to have justice for those who were wronged by the gods.

[saturnsorbits]

The Storm: A Saturnari Story

WC: 2.6k,

A/N: A little more lore for last nights post. Thank you to BTP, you asked the question and this was kind of cathartic to put together.

It’s a Friday and we’re at a bar. Usual stuff, y’know. Drinks, the gang, there’s laughter bouncing off the walls, blending with the music and bleeding into our veins. Everything is good… Until it isn’t. 

I’m at the bar? Or in the toilet? Kaminari can’t remember, but when Sero is dragged up by an excitable Mina for a dance, it’s only the two of them left alone in the booth. Jirou turns to him with apple red cheeks and rum on her lips and sighs. He tries to convince himself it’s a trick of the light when he catches it, his own lust reflected back at him through the opals of her eyes, but it’s not. The truth is, they just kind of missed each other back in school, back when she never took him seriously and he matured too slowly. The air is thick, the thrum of his heart loud. He can feel it. His being calls for her, reaches out wanting to touch, to taste, to feel: just once. 

Just to get her out of his system. 

He knows I worry about her. He knows I’ve seen the looks. The thoughts of another life that flicker through his mind, the life where it’s her on his arm and not me. 

The alcohol in his veins loosens his tongue, brings impulse to the surface of his skin and dares him to indulge it. Words stick behind his Adam’s apple and bob there, the whispers of ‘I think I could have loved you’ that swim in his mind when she raises her eyebrows at him… An unspoken question: a sin. 

It’s Bakugo who gets to him. It always is. The hand he has wrapped around Kaminari’s neck is too tight to be friendly, bordering on crushing and leaves him pinned like a bug. He’s smiling when I return to the booth, they both are. Bakugo shoves his catch towards me, says ‘Take him home’ in the same way he says ‘he careful’ and retreats, watching with predatory eyes as we slip through the crowd and head home. 

Kaminari glances over his shoulder, looks for Jirou in the crowd, frowning when he can’t find her. Across the room Bakugo scowls. He slips his hand into Kiri’s and squeezes, remembering just how lucky he is to have a love like he has at home. 

Still, despite the intervention,  it’s already begun. 

Neither of them remember who suggests it, but the details don’t really matter. It’s almost 8:45pm the following Sunday when Kaminari’s knuckles are rattling against her door and she’s opening it with only a old t-shirt hanging from her shoulders. 

He calls me on the way to her place. Just once. His hand shakes around his phone, his heart a humming bird that feeds on his own destruction. He whispers, voice cracking down the phone: ‘Just once, I promise. I just…’ 

He’s crying. I can hear it. Each hollow, hiccuping sob echos in the cavern of my skull, but I keep quiet, let him finish. 

‘I need this. I - fuck. I just need to get it out of my system. I -.’ He bites his tongue hard enough to bleed. There’s no way he can explain, expose the rotten center of him that knows this will break you, not when he’s only two minutes from her apartment. So he doesn’t. ‘Fuck. I’m so… I’m so sorry. I just - I know it’s fucked up. It’s fucked. It’s - I just… I love y-.’ 

The line goes dead after that. 

I’m not there when he gets home, but Kirishima is. He returns with a duffel bag and an offer of sanctuary - a place in his and Bakugo’s spare room so I can piece myself back together. The next week is… Odd. There’s the heartbreak, obviously, the rift that opens up within the friend group and a notable, angrier version of Kirishima that shows off an almost Bakugo-level colour in language, but on a whole it’s just the same. The sun still rises, the birds still sing outside of the window, Bakugo still cooks as well as he always has and work is the usual 9-5 drone. 

It’s enough, for a while, my new normal… That is until I see her again. 

There’s still a bruise on her neck when I see her. It’s small; a faded purple that seems to perfectly match her hair and it turns my stomach knowing that there are probably more that I can’t see; little reminders of him scattered all over her body. She pulls her collar up when she notices me staring and I don’t blame her. I’m not trying to hide it and her discomfort makes something proud and angry squirm in my chest. 

We’re in some coffee shop. It’s one I don’t frequent, one I don’t even like - just so I won’t have to spend the next few weeks dragging Bakugo and Kirishima out to re-write the memories of this conversation. 

She sips at the edge of a coffee I paid for and bites her cheek. ‘It’s always been you, hasn’t it?’ 

My eyebrows raise. ‘What?’ 

‘You know what I mean.’ 

I assure her that I absolutely fucking do not. 

‘He only thinks he wants me. It’s not… I don’t think he’s ever really…’ She swallows, hiccups a sob and burns his tongue. ‘He doesn’t love me, he never has. I - fuck…’ She rubs her eyes. ‘I used to wish I was you, y’know. When you first got together and he changed, stopped doing all that gear, being so… So.’ 

‘He got better, Jirou - You can’t begrudge him that.’ 

‘No… No, but it was all for you.’ 

You snort. ‘Obviously not.’ 

We sit in silence for a while after that. I look out of the window, watch couples pass by and try not to vomit. ‘He told me, y’know.’ 

Jirou’s head snaps up from the table, a small furrow between her eyebrows. 

I smile, shake my head, blow air out of my nose like that will stop the tears. It doesn’t. ‘He rang me before he went over, told me he had to get you out of his system. That he needed it. He needed you.’

She’s floundering as it dawns on her, but the moment my words slot together in her head, her eyes blow wide. ‘He told you?’ 

I nod. 

‘So I was just… He was…’ She can’t spit it out because that will make it true, so she locks it behind her teeth instead. 

‘He fucked both of us over.’ I offer. 

She counters. ‘I fucked you over too.’ 

I smile, look at the table. I’m already too tired to get into the semantic and with every passing second I’m running out of steam. ‘Yeah.’ My phone buzzes on the table - a text from Bakugo lighting up the screen when I flip it over to check. 

Katsuki: ‘Want me to come get you?’ 

I text back a quick ‘Yes, please’ knowing that he’s probably half-way here anyway and down the rest of my drink with two clean gulps. ‘For what it's worth i think he loves you… In his own way. You and him, it’s… It’s unfinished.’ 

Jirou smiles, catches herself and squashes it. ‘He loves you more.’ 

‘It’s not a competition. ‘I snap. ‘Have you spoken to him?’ 

She shakes her head. ‘He, he won’t.’ Tears spill over her cheeks, tiny diamonds that shatter when they hit her fingers. ‘And Kiri, Kiri told me it’s probably best if…’ 

‘I’m not going to stop you talking to him.’ The words shake when they come out of my mouth, but it’s stronger than I could have hoped. ‘I mean it. I won’t. I can’t.’ 

She’s about to say something more when Bakugo walks in, but it falls dead on her tongue at the sight of him. He buys a coffee to go and waits as I awkwardly trade goodbye’s with Jirou and we leave. 

Seeing him again is… Something. 

Kaminari looks like he hasn’t slept. Fuck. It looks like he hasn’t eaten or showered either, but the first thing he does is offer me a cup of tea. The kitchen is bare, like he hasn’t been shopping since I’ve been gone, but the box of tea he pulls out is new. It’s my favourite brand, the one he thinks tastes like dirt. 

We drift back into the living room and sit on the couch in an uneasy silence. My cup is half empty before he breaks it. 

‘I’m… Fuck, I’m so.’ 

I swallow my mouthful and cut him off before he can apologize. ‘I spoke to Jirou.’ 

His eyes blow wide, a trapped fox with no escape. 

But this time, there are no dogs to run from. Just me, a sheep in wolf’s clothing. ‘She’s been texting you.’

‘I - I haven’t responded, I -.’ 

‘I know.’ I take a breath.

This moment right here has plagued me for two weeks. It’s kept me awake. It’s burrowed so deeply inside of me that I’ve spent every waking moment picturing all the different ways this could go…

I’ve imagined screaming at him, calling him out and cursing him - tearing him to shreds and making him bleed in a poor attempt to pay him back for the hole he’s created in my chest.

I’ve imagined ghosting him, moving on and pretending he doesn’t exist; leaving me to limp alone into a future where another happy ending may never find me.

I’ve imagined taking him back.

Imagined him doing it again.

I’ve imagined him leaving me for her, properly this time - a forever conclusion to this transgression.

I’ve imagined all of it, played it out on the back of my eyelids in the early hours. 

Still… What I hadn’t equated for is the heat that bubbles under my skin when I see him. It’s painful. The force of the emotion crushes my lungs and pins down my tongue. It cages me, refuses to let me go even as I fight it; even as I beg it to and eventually… Eventually, I’m forced to admit it.

‘I still love you... But, I need time.’ There’s tears in my tea. I can see them. They dive from the tip of my chin and splash, sorrow filled raindrops that salt the brew. 

‘I - I can give you time. As much as you need, anything. I’ll give you anything, even…’ He swallows, chokes. ‘Even if you need me to go away.’ 

‘Do you want to?’ 

‘No.’ 

‘Okay.’

‘I understand… If, if you don’t want to see me again, I -.’ 

I bite the inside of my cheek. ‘I said okay, Denki.’

I want to tell him that I need to find myself again. That I need to piece back together the parts of me that ask ‘why her?’ and ‘why wasn’t I enough?’ when I lie awake at night, but I don’t… Those are my burdens to bare now. Instead, I tell him to get some sleep, to eat for gods sake and take a damn shower. 

‘Can I see you again?’ 

‘Not for a while.’ 

The light dulls in his eyes, but he nods. ‘I…’ Coughing the film from his voice, he offers a smile. ‘I’ve signed back onto the programme, Aizawa’s paired me up with another sponsor. Just a precaution, y’know, the self destruction is obviously back - don’t want the rest of it coming back too.’ 

‘I’m glad.’ 

‘And you’ll call?’ He’s hopeful, a little boy who’s been promised a puppy for Christmas if he’s good. ‘When… If… If you’re ready. I’ll wait. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll… I’ll always wait for you.’ 

I reach out and touch his cheek, fall back into him easily, just like I did for the first time all those years ago. I press a singular, soft kiss to his lips before I leave.

‘I love you.’ He whispers it, stuffing a million more words into it as he breathes them on my skin. 

I don’t say it back. 

As soon as the air outside hits me I all, but collapse into Bakugo. He’s solid and warm as I press my cheek against his chest, my fists balled in the flimsy material of his windbreaker as the material of the t-shirt underneath darkens with tears. I’m numb, stranded in an endless desert of heart shards… 

‘I didn’t want to feel like this again…’ A sob wrecks my chest as the well deepens, opening up to swallow me whole. It all comes flooding back. Heartbreart nestles back into my ribcage and burrows there, promising to make me it’s home. I choke on a sob. ‘I don’t want - I can’t. I can’t do this again.’

Bakugo feels it too. The prickle of my heartbreak infests him. It’s been a while since he last saw me like this, but it’s still far too soon for his liking.

I was supposed to be happy.

It makes him sick to the stomach, but it’s the memories that really do a number on him. It’s hard to forget the last time he’d seen me reduced to a shadow, struggling against the tide of numbness that threatens to engulf me. He remembers it all too well. He remembers because he was the cause of it. ‘I know.’ He coos, consoles himself with the thought that at least this time he can be here  - this time he can help. Kissing my crown, he holds me like he’s keeping me together, because he is. ‘I know sweetheart, I know.’

A month down and it’s Friday again. We’re at a bar. Usual stuff, y’know. Drinks, the gang, minus a few, there’s laughter bouncing off the walls, blending with the music and bleeding into our veins. Everything isn’t good… But, it’s better. 

I’m in a booth with Sero chattering about the latest hero numbers when he huffs out a laugh and leans in close. His pupils have blown, the brown of his iris vanquished. He’s more drunk than usual, but he’s just stopped seeing the latest in a long string off on/off again partners, so it’s to be expected. None of us chastise him for it. 

Still, he’s grinning and frowning all at once when he mumbles into my ear: ‘Wanna know a secret?’ 

‘Sure.’ 

‘Me and Denks used to fool around y’know… Way back, like college, way back.’ He swallows, then snarls and clenches his jaw: hard. ‘Thought it was going somewhere until I walked in on him and someone else… Said he didn’t think we where serious, but he fucking knew.’ He hiccups. ‘He knew I liked him.’ 

I wait, letting the alcohol slow the shock.

‘He’s got no fucking impulse control, and that was before… Before all that. It was nice to see it bite him in the ass.’ 

‘I didn’t…’ I frown, wrapping a hand around Sero’s wrist. ‘I didn’t know.’ 

He shrugs, signature grin back in place as he sips from his beer. ‘Doesn’t matter now. He fucked it with the best thing that ever happened to him, that’s enough karma for a lifetime.’ 

‘I -.’ It’s a lot of information to take in, but before I can catastrophize and think too deeply about Kaminari’s apparent pattern of behaviour, Sero is downing his drink and yanking on my hand. He flashes a sad, tired smile and I can see my own heartbreak reflected in his eyes. 

He flexes his palm. ‘Fuck him. Dance with me.’