#i love her she needed to be present for this

[tremendum]

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Me and the Devil; i

(not my gif) .·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·..·: Paul Atreides x fem!reader prelude next

word count: 5.3k

summary:  Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn. 

warnings: blood/violence, family deaath, v brief allusions to smut/dubcon, reader is traumatized. pls lmk if i missed anything. not edited.

notes: thanks for all the love so far!!! here's the first chapter of the story - if you want to stay updated, i post on AO3 first :) just a quick first chapter to lay the scene before we jump into the engaging parts of the story. feedback is very motivating and highly valued, thank u all <33

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Penitent Crimes of Retaliation

In accordance with the legal doctrine of the 'Reprisal Accord', as sanctioned by the High Court of the Landsraad, houses are granted the right to retaliate against proven offenses committed upon them. This action shall such be labelled as "Penitent Crimes of Retaliation". Under this mandate, should sufficient evidence be presented, the aggrieved house may initiate a retaliatory strike and engage in warfare against the offending party. While reparations for damages incurred during the conflict are mandated, perpetrators shall be exempt from criminal sentences, ensuring a balanced recourse within the framework of inter-house disputes."

- From the Reprisal Accord, Office of the Padishah Emperor. Imperium, 10041. 

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There was once a time when green was your favorite color. 

You'd enjoyed a childhood of it; Peridot, Jades, the velvet green of winter dresses, the tall, mighty green the sacred Pine. The woven banner of your house, waving in the snow-whipped wind; A snarling green wolf upon the grey armor your parents wore to train you. 

When the men of one other Houses Major arrived to retrieve your older sister, she'd been shroud in that very same pine-colored satin, an elegant dress, as she waved good-bye to you for the last time. When the ice would melt off the lower glaciers for those three months every year, the lakes would thaw to a deep emerald green, and your brother, sisters and you would play in it; servants and soldiers alike yelling and pulling you out, shivering to your bones. 

Even at your sister's funeral. The green of the casket, laid to rest in the ground of a foreign planet by a man who'd never truly loved her. The women of your House, wearing a veil of mourning in that sacred pine satin as you said good-bye to her. Killed by the birth of her first; a son. Your parents had been proud - You became the oldest of your siblings that day.

You can barely stand to look at green anymore. No, instead, you mostly see black.

Black, white, and red. 

They'd sent you away to make for your house a Fortune; a son, they'd wished, for your sake - and, by whispers of your Lady Mother, a daughter - but this place... it crawls with shadows and monsters and deadly smiles; most in the form of your betrothed.

Your na-Baron. 

If Feyd-Rautha ever had a semblance of hesitancy, it was when you first met four years ago. You were at the end of your seventeenth year; he, freshly eighteen. He had been as cordial as you'd ever seen him, escorting you with an arm held out, eyes malicious but mouth less than offensive. He'd even called you Lady Bourbon those first few months on Giedi Prime. And, in fact, you can consider yourself lucky; perhaps for your bloodline, or for you yourself, Feyd-Rautha took special care of you. Maybe he did care for you -in the ways that he could. 

After that, he taught you all you needed to know about the rest of the world. In these final days together, he has admitted furiously that he waited too long to claim you as his wife - four years was much too long for you to wait, even if your purity was claimed by him long before then. 

The accusations had come from his uncle, the Baron; House Bourbon was stealing their precious refinery codes, committing treason against the trading accords along their exportation route. Perhaps, he thought, you were the one to plot it against your beloved future family.

But Feyd-Rautha knew better - knew that you'd never dare betray him. He was the one to demand a public execution of your family - but also the one to redirect your sentencing to a mere prisoner. As if you weren't one already. 

Don't look away. See what we do to scum, my pet? 

After all the sparring, each time you drew that precious blood from him, and you still haven't been able to kill him. If you'd had a blade, you would have, right there in the stands. 

You were, in some ways, relieved when their bodies had hit the sand fast; You'd never seen your brother's skin so reflective as you did this morning. The black sun couldn't hide the blood that had seeped from him, nor from your mother's throat. You'd swallowed thickly, wishing you could look away, gasp - cry; but you had to hide your pain. Your na-Baron would've loved it too much.

Why don't you leave me with them, then? You'd hissed through your teeth.

Though he was wild and psychotic, growling with hunger at the bloodsport in front of him, he heard you for what you'd said. Feyd's fingers pulled your hair hard; forcing your chin to stare up at him. A sickly glint in the black sun, his teeth shone with hunger. 

You'd have me throw you to your Wolves, and lose my prize? He'd tutted, kissing your forehead with a sickening sweetness; enough so that the servants had turned away their spider-black gazes. They didn't care much for the acts of affection you'd occasionally show one another - in a world marred by ugliness, any glimpse of beauty becomes a hauntingly grotesque show of power.

He'd snarled, slapping your cheek hard enough for you to groan. His breath hit your face, you're mine to keep - there's plenty of life left for you to serve.  

He'd held your eyes open as they'd slit your father's throat; then both of your sisters, and your brother's. Your mother had fought as much as she could in her drugged state - the Harkonnens are rutheless, and Feyd-Rautha had sat calmly behind you, your head in his hands, caressing your shaking cheek - but the neckline of her gown was too high, and too thickly inlaid with encrusted heirlooms. 

Bless their voided souls.

The emeralds that tore from her gown as she'd spilled her blood to the sand sent a ripple of pain out of your throat. Feyd had buried his face in your neck, teeth sharp as he sucked a mark just behind your ear, watching as you clenched your palms so hard, your own ruby blood beaded out, blackened in the sun's light.

If anybody would have bothered to look before burning the bodies, you know they'd find all the family diamonds sewn into the fabric of their clothing - centuries of your House, melted away.

Feyd-Rautha had drank up your agony with his lips, smiling as his hand wrapped around your throat. 

Now, alone and away from the thick industrial air, your chambers are cold and suffocating.

There are screams coming from the hall - not the kind that you've grown to associate with your na-Baron testing his new blades, but the kind that comes with danger. With change. 

As it turns out, you are not Feyd-Rautha's to keep any longer.

A loud noise outside of your quarters jolts you from your bed, whispering to yourself. They're coming for you. Pulling the sheets closer to your body, your hand finds the blade gifted to you on your nameday three years ago by your husband-to-be, still tainted with the ghost of your own blood.

Your whispers reverberate in the empty room. "I must not fear. fear is the mind-killer. fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me."

Your voice shakes. Few things remain from your early days of training, before you were sent off to become a Harkonnen; This is one is a relic.

There is a loud noise just outside; blades. 

For a moment, you imagine there is a hand on your arm. It is strong, ghost-white, and possessive. His voice rumbles in your head. Don't look so sad, my pet. I will never let them keep what is mine. I will find you again. 

You almost wish he will. 

When you look down to the weight on your arm, you do not find the hand of your once-betrothed, but the remainder of his ownership, a handprint of a bruise that will not fade even as the soldiers in Atreides armor deliver you to the next planet.

You rise from your bed, preparing your sore body for a fight that will surely end before it even starts. You don't stop your old prayer, in fact, you hardly notice that you're saying it at all. Even as the doors give in. 

"-and when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing - only I will remain-" There are soldiers that burst through.

The way one of them fights strikes a faint memory from a lost childhood, and it fills you with rage. 

Why did you wait so long to rescue me?

You lunge, snarling like the wild beast you've become in your captivity. You will fight, because that is the only thing you know how to do. It is the only thing you have left. 

Your blade falls within minutes.

You're taken by the man from your past not a minute after. 

You're on a ship, watching the black Opiuchi B disappear, in an hour. 

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"My Lady."

You don't realize the worker addresses you until you snap out of it, flushing behind your veil as you step out of the aircraft.

The dress you wear, salvaged from your family's old castle, is dusty. 

It clings to your skin, drowns you, as the rain falls. A staff of House Atreides holds an umbrella above you, shielding your elaborate dress from the water as you walk up towards where the members of the House await you. You stare down at the dress - green velvet. A texture you have not felt in years; your skin looks different not wrapped completely in black.

Your eyes strain to take in the grand entrance to the castle from the hangar which Duncan Idaho had escorted you, ignoring him as he turns to glance back at you momentarily. You can't bear the look of unfamiliarity that flickers over him when he looks at you, now.  

He looks the same - maybe less tall, but that has more to do with it having been six years since you last saw the man. You, however, are not the same girl you were when he knew you on Sabberon. Fear, panic, and wrath rage within you while your gaze smolders daggers at the back of his head. 

He walks just slightly in front of you and despite yourself, you slide just a bit closer - the only semblance of comfort you can allow yourself to feel as you take in the largess of the castle. The air is thicker here than you've ever felt; salty, windy, like you can taste the sea in the rain... it clings to your skin, but it feels clean. You'd been changing into your robes when you entered atmo - you've heard many things about the ocean, about Caladan. 

Something within you yearns to witness it yourself. Subtly, you crane your neck outwards to catch a glimpse; nothing in the near distance but the walls of the castle and high cliffs. 

You nearly trip as Duncan Idaho stops just a few paces from where the members stand at attention to greet you and your retinue.

Duke Leto Atreides, regal and composed, stands at the center of the room, his presence commanding your attention. Beside him, a woman wearing a deep cerulean gown - Lady Jessica. Easily, from behind your own veil, her gaze penetrates you; A cool sensation down your spine as you seem to feel her words in the back of your head as she watches the Reverend Mother who'd travelled with you per High Court orders.

 Hello, sister.

You purse your lips, looking on - there, next to his mother; Standing tall with an aura of quiet intensity, his eyes on you, is Paul Atreides.

The son to whom you're now destined.

Even from your obstructed vision, you can see that he's handsome - lithe, hair curled and combed back to show his eyes. They are wide, penetrating like his mother's, but Maker, they are so green. 

There is no hunger in his eyes, nor hatred, nor anything but a mild curiosity; it strikes a chord of fear in your gut, wishing briefly to return to the na-Baron's sight. It was easy to go unseen with the Harkonnens; They always made their intentions clear, and the na-Baron never wanted many to see you besides himself. You always knew what he wanted, and you could give it to him enough to control him. 

But Paul. His stare betrays no emotion but duty. If not for the boyish pout of his pink lips and his freshly-shaven jaw, you could have mistaken him for his father. A Duke. 

Your name, boomed from the voice of Leto Atreides, pulls you back to the surface of Caladan. "Welcome." Duke Leto's voice resonates through the hall with authority as he addresses you, his tone measured yet warm. Your stomach twists and turns as the man nods courteously to you. Coaxing your body to move, you bow to him.

"We are honored by your presence." His voice is surprisingly humane, exceedingly polite towards you; someone who was just come from the protection (a laughable phrase) of their sworn enemy. 

Your throat tightens at this. There is no honor to your presence, not anymore. 

Though you feel the prickling behind your eyes, you force your head to tilt in acknowledgment, schooling your expression to respectful - perhaps they can't quite make out your face, but Lady Jessica watches closely. She sees.

You take a sharp breath, swallowing away the lump of emotion in your throat. 

"Thank you, Duke Leto, my lord." Your voice carries steel beneath its polite, quiet veneer, though you try to calm your heart. You turn to Lady Jessica to greet her.

"My Lady, it is a pleasure." You say, equally even. Lady Jessica offers a tight smile, something akin to understanding swimming among her irises. It's been quite some time since you were permitted to talk to a woman; Your servants on Giedi Prime were, of course, tongue-less, as na-Baron wished. "Thank you for welcoming me to your home." 

"We understand that these are trying times for you." She says softly, her words a gesture of solidarity as your legs stagger. You feel dizzy and tired, but you force yourself to nod, bowing again. Your chained headdress overlaying your veil chimes slightly with the movement, swaying with the rain.

For such an acclaimed House, you're surprised by the gentleness of their welcome. Perhaps, they'd thought that the groaning and echoing hallways of Giedi Prime might break you, that they'd be taking in some injured little dove, wings clipped by the ferocious boy who'd gifted her with a knife plunged between her ribs on her nameday. 

The scar that lies just below your breast on your right side serves not as a reminder, but as fuel. It did not quell your spark. It ignited it, with a bloodthirsty rage for revenge.

Months of being thrown into a pit under the glaring black sun; Not the arena that assassinated your family, no - this pit was smaller, with one large seat for the na-Baron himself, and drugged concubines and servants with blades to service his na-Baroness. A place to watch his pets play. 

Destruction: the only thing you and Feyd-Rautha may have ever had in common. 

Unfortunately, you endured. You learned how to live with the Harkonnens, to be one of them- and with a clip of fear, you worry you may never be able to unlearn. 

Lady Jessica is correct, these are trying times for you. You swallow as you straighten your back. Despite everything, there's a minor comfort in the Atreides' insistence of providing you with the necessities for you to perform your traditional customary mourning traditions. Your family may be gone, but you can still have this part of them; as a way of saying good-bye. It's what they would have wanted. 

You turn to the young man who stands next to Lady Jessica.

The Harkonnens had tried to show you the dangers of house Atreides; The poison of appearance, of trust. You are not foolish enough to have believed the Baron Vladimir and his webs of deception, but you are sharp enough to know that in times like these, nobody can be trusted. 

Your betrothed watches you, as if trying to see through your mourning veil. The green of his eyes sends a warmth through your stomach as you avert your eyes. "My Lord," you bow to him, your heart thumping in your chest, remembering how you might be rewarded for looking your formerly betrothed in the eyes during ceremony. Trying not to flinch, you wait to see what Paul's hands may do. But they do not strike you, nor grasp your jaw sharply. He barely moves. 

"My Lady." His voice is softer than you expected, and it strikes your heart with a cool unease. Distrust slithers around you like a daunting snake. He bows back to you. 

It's silent for a thick moment before Duncan Idaho - the man from a distant past - speaks from beside you. "We have much to discuss." 

Cutting to the chase, as always. Your eyes fall to the Duke, who nods. "Do you need to see treatment?" He asks the Swordsman, eyes assessing the soldier. 

Duncan laughs at this, gesturing to his arm, where beads of blood still slowly peeks through his the tunic he'd slipped on after changing out of his armor.

"Harkonnen blades are sharp. So are Lady Bourbon's nails."

The prickling of four pairs of eyes strike you as he continues, turning this time to address you full-on. "Your fighting is much different than I remember, Little Bourbon." 

What he doesn't say is clear to you: Much more savage than he remembers. Something between shame and pride licks at your cheeks and you avert your eyes; It had been a force of habit - rabid hounds don't tuck tail when cornered, do they?

You clench your hand, your nails digging into your palms; you learned early on that sharper claws could keep Feyd tame for longer. 

The force of Duncan's old nickname for you, when you'd been young - it nearly knocks the air out of your chest. It's been over half a decade since you'd seen the man; too much has happened since then. Nonetheless, you smile toothless behind the veil, trying not to think of the life you'd just left behind. Of what cold life lies ahead. 

When you respond, your voice is frigid. 

"Sometimes adaptation is survival, Duncan Idaho. Threats demand evolution." 

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The rain is gone by the next day.

In the morning room, forks scrape over blue-plated China. There must be a clock somewhere near, as the seconds pass in quiet, insistent ticks. A cleared throat, a swallow of water. 

Your eyes burn from exhaustion.

Your arrival last night held no such time for small talk - you were whisked away by the service staff to make sure your quarters were comfortable; Your old clothing and that of your sisters and mother - the few things the Atreides soldiers had salvaged from the ransacked Castle at Sabberon - had been washed thrice of rubble and smoke and were hanging, waiting for you, in the wardrobes. 

Barely awake, late in the evening, you'd attended a meeting in a small conference hall. There, sat across from Lord Paul, Masters of War and Swords and Strategy, a Mentat, and the Lady Jessica, the Duke had asked you questions, ensuring you were not harmed - more importantly, trying to ensure there was no malicious intent to your presence. Your eyes could not ignore the Lady Jessica, who stood behind the Duke, her fingers twitching to the others when you responded to a question asked of you. They had some kind of language, you'd realized, as they responded in their own subtle hand gestures. 

You'd only been there for ten minutes before you were escorted by a handmaid back to your chambers, where you sat without rest through the night. 

Truthfully, you're breaking fast with Lady Jessica and Lord Paul out of courtesy; You were up far before the sun had found the horizon this morning, staring emotionless at the ghost who stood in the corner of your new chambers.

You'd sat watching, cradling your chest with wide eyes, as the ghost slid onto his knees. How he'd crawled, smirking at the foot of your mattress, whispering to you with sharp teeth and beckoning fingers. The sweet promise in his eyes laid with blood and pain, coaxing you forward despite yourself - until something in the corner of your vision moved, and you'd screamed. 

That had woken one of the servants.

She came in with her head tilted down, holding a pitcher of water, and you'd asked her to stay.

Her name is Hestia; she must barely be twenty. You insisted on sharing a pot of tea with her, sitting in the silence but sipping shortly on your teacups. You didn't talk much, but instead breathed and felt the safety and of a woman's company, even if she is a few years younger than you. 

It wasn't until she'd brought you breakfast a few minutes later that you realized the staff must have been informed of your courting customs before your arrival - she said nothing as you ate silently, staring out towards the coast of rocky cliffs and rolling moors you could just barely make out from your chamber windows. 

And now you sit similarly - in the morning dining room, your hands perched in your lap, unsure what to do with yourself.

Your future husband, no older than yourself, sits across the table from you now, pushing his omelet around on his fork. The table shakes just slightly, jilting your glass full of water - he must have a restless knee. He chews at his lip, avoiding your stare, sharing slight conversation with his Lady mother. Her attempts to bring you into the conversation are met with polite answers and more silence, your voice shaky and cold. 

After a while, a woman enters, whispers something to the Lady at the end of the table. Nodding, Lady Jessica takes her leave with a pointed look at Paul, suggesting he might escort you around the castle to settle you in.

Though your stomach coils, you nod, "-if you have time, my Lord, I'd appreciate it."

His eyes find yours from behind the veil and you clear your throat. He's quiet but chivalrous; A nod, a glance sent back to his mother as she leaves. A short gust of air through the room and suddenly you can smell him. His hair, clean and glossy - healthy - glints as he faces a window, exposing the early morning sun to his bright eyes.

It's silent for a few moments as only the two of you remain; Your food untouched and his half-eaten. 

"Are you one of them?" 

Them?

You stare at him from behind the thin pine veil that covers you. It occurs to you that Paul may assume you are just as bald and sick as each Harkonnen; years of adapting, surviving off of instinct and placation, are over. With a jolt, you realize you are not a Harkonnen. And you will not be wed to one.

You shake your head, thankful for the lack of chains upon the crown of your head today, ignoring the melancholy feeling in your gut. 

"I have hair." You state simply, looking down at the skin of your arm; The skin that boasts arm hair, none of the sickly pale skin that knew of no clean air nor healthy sunlight - your skin, glowing with real melanin like the House of Bourbon.

You'd never spoken this freely on Giedi Prime besides in the sole company of Feyd-Rautha - stars, you'd never have spoken this freely at home on Sabberon, either - but there is no home anymore. And if you've learned one thing in your years since coming of age, its that the Great and Noble Houses of the Landsraad are crawling with perjurers, fabricators. 

Paul is likely the same. 

If the Atreides boy must be wed to you, you cannot help that, just as you couldn't help with Feyd-Rautha. They can dress you, insist in your traditional customs - but you will not go down easy. No matter how cold the home, you can be colder. You are more than the bones which hold you up; Meaner than the demons that kept you in their ghostly-grip for four years. 

His cheeks flush a peculiar pink, bottom lip captured between pearly teeth. "No," he starts again, eyes searching - trying to find you, beneath the layers of green that wrap around you. "Not Harkonnen-" he quiets after he says the name, as if worried to offend you. "I meant-" his eyes swim, "Bene Gesserit." 

Your stomach chills as you meet his eyes. 

After some hesitation, you shake your head. "No, my Lord."

When he blinks at your words, you feel compelled to continue. "I suppose I was..." you move your hand to pull on the sleeve of your robes.

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"or, I was supposed to be." your unemotional tone rings through the room. Paul doesn't say anything to that, biting back the suspicion that climbs up his throat.

He stands when you rise from your seat; Your mourning dress, unlike anything he'd ever seen before, flows like the leaves of a weeping willow as you push your chair in behind you. When he offers a stiff arm to escort you out of the room, you hesitate before looping yourself loosely to him. 

She is telling the truth. 

His mother had indicated, with flicks of her hand, during the meeting the evening before; you, sat before the Atreides' council, unaware that his mother was reading your honesty. 

But that could be a trick; you've admitted to being partially trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit, perhaps you found a way to deceive his mother. As much as he trusts Duncan and his father, he can't shake the suspicion that you're a mere pawn in the Harkonnens' game.

But his father's words burn sharply into his mind. 

Duty often requires us to navigate paths we may not have chosen for ourselves, Paul. You may not always like her, but you will treat her with the respect and care befitting of a future spouse. Love may come in other ways - but you will marry her, and together you will sire an heir when the time comes.

By decree, it was ordered you be wed to Paul, but he can't find it within himself to lose the feeling of distrust. He has spent hours learning about the Harkonnens - how they think, their strategy; and yet, from Duncan's account, the Baron and his nephew just let you go. It makes no sense to him. 

"I was supposed to be a lot of things." 

Your voice is undeniably beautiful; strong, much more resolute than he'd expected. But you are extremely cold, and evidently unwilling. Polite, yes - it seems you've been trained just as he and every other young noble of the Great Houses have - but you are calculating, aggressive.

He saw the claw marks you'd left upon Duncan; a man you've known since you were a young girl.

You walk with your chest out, back straight like a soldier; your words are cordial yet laced with steel and indifference - it only serves to deepen his unease. He guides you through the castle, murmuring quietly as he shows you along, introducing you to various members of staff who stop and bow in recognition. 

You don't say much until he escorts you to a path that winds down out of your sights; Below the castle, between jagged rocks, Paul finds himself concerned to no longer be surrounded by castle walls. Beside him, you take a deep breath, your footsteps faltering as you slow to stare at moss that sprawls across the cobblestone. 

Curiously, Paul slows to a stop beside you.

For a moment, you stare down at the dirt and fallen tree limbs, the grassy fields and rocks. Soon, as though an invisible string pulls you upwards, you snap your head, voice sheepish behind your veil. "Apologies, my Lord." You start to turn away. "I've read of plants like this, but never seen them before in person." 

Paul is suddenly struck by the realization that you may not have seen much of any flora nor fauna on Caladan. He knows what Giedi Prime is like; and your homeworld, from what he'd read last night before bed, was mostly full of Glaciers, forests, and high altitudes. Perhaps you are interested in such things; the idea surprises him. 

So instead of moving along, he finds himself bending to pull off a bit of the moss from a fallen trunk. The earthy dirt spreads between his nimble fingers, the green bright against his skin. You watch him silently.

"It absorbs up to twenty times its dry weight in water." He says it quietly, repeating what he'd learned in an ecological lesson, pushing on the spongy material with his thumb. "Banks of it grow just around the brackish tidepools outside the castle." 

Your interest, piqued, causes your head to crane slightly from your short height - he can tell, even without seeing any part of your face, that you are fascinated. "Am I allowed to see?" You ask stiffly, your arms by your sides.

An initial wave of protectiveness over his home washes over him; remembering his father's words, he forces his shoulders to relax. He lets the moss fall back to the stump, brows furrowing. 

"You are to be Lady Atreides, one day." He tries to school his voice evenly, avoiding any hint of resistance to this fact. "You do not have to ask permission to see your own land." 

The wind from the sea whips around you; his stray curls fly in his vision. There are no words from you for several very long breaths, in which you clear your throat. 

"I do not feel well, my Lord." You say moments later, voice cordial but thick with the desire to be alone, "I believe I am sick from travel. Please, if you would excuse me." 

He is unsure if he had made you uncomfortable or if you are truly feeling sick; nonetheless, Paul escorts you to your chambers silently, calling one of the handmaids - Hestia, her name is - to check on you. He insists she bring you some bread and cheese, to draw you a bath if you please. 

His jaw clenches; he's to train with his mother soon, but he needs release. His muscles clench in repressed frustration and so Paul lets his feet carry him swiftly to the training quarters.

His fingers itch for a blade; his mind itches to forget about the last day, about the cold life that lies ahead of him. 

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[icyg4l]

PAC: May 2024 Predictions

Hello beautiful people! Later on this week, I will have a Five Dollar Friday Sale where any topic can be talked about. Please refer to my guidelines if you are interested in booking with me! Today, I will be giving you all some predictions about the upcoming month. I hope that those who resonate will continue to support me. For those of you who have been supporting me, I thank you. Without further ado, please select the quote that resonates with you.

Left-to-Right: (1-3)

Pile One: I am getting Taurus energy from this pile. I feel like you are going to be walking away from a situation that no longer serves you in May. It's going to hurt. But on the bright side, at least you are done with that chapter in your life. I feel like you are inviting new energy into your life though. It feels lively. I think that you need to be careful though if you go out to a hookah bar, or just go out into the nightlife in general. I am seeing that you will be going to a cookout. I am seeing the image of a thermometer's heat rising. I feel like you may have tension with someone that's super thick, lol. All in all, I feel that this month for you will determine the theme of this summer for you all. You got your wings, you've been promoted! It may be hard to focus on the positives because of your circumstances but you will survive. This month will feel weird because it’s like your on two ends of the spectrum. One part is good and the other is gone to shit, but all will work in your favor boo! See the good in life.

Cards Used: Page of Cups, Queen of Discs, Ace of Cups, 5 of Discs, The World, 10 of Swords, Justice.

extras: arrogance. cheap labor. pennyslvania. slabs. coney island. sweet! livelihood. perfume. body shapewear. antisocial club.

Pile Two: Idk why but your energy reminds me of Natalie Nunn lol. Not the messy parts but the part about her where she's unintentionally funny and fun to be around. Your energy feels very much party girl, I could easily get in this section if I wanted to type of vibe. Anyway, I think that you are going to be strengthening some platonic connections that you already have. But I also think that you're going to cut someone loose --- someone who has been around for a while. The name Harold comes to mind. Have you eaten Harold's Chicken as of recently, lol? I think that you're going to have sharper instincts as a result. You're going to see people for who they are. I am seeing the image of a butterfly flying on someone's nose. You will be growing up in the month of May. There is an emphasis on meditation. You're being called to devoting your time to staying in the present. You're being asked to go within and get more introspective. Also, cut back on the refined sugars. I think you'll be listening to Amaraae and Solange more often this month as well.

Cards Used: King of Cups, 3 of Cups, Strength, Death, King of Swords, The Hermit, Prince of Discs, 2 of Swords, The Lovers.

extras: big eyes. blonde hair. shapely. wiz khalifa. stunna shades. "i ain't going nowhere." "get comfy." gloomy. rainbow tips.

Pile Three: Someone in this pile is going to be reuniting with their family at a prom sendoff, at a graduation, a party. Either way, it will be a celebration. This pile will also be very grateful in the month of May. You are also going to have many opportunities to make quick money with the people that you love (not necessarily family but anyone that makes you feel safe). A love opportunity will be coming through for you as well. I don't see this as something you should take serious. I think you want to be independent right now, that person understands and they will give you your space for the time being. If you're trying to curate an event, don't worry too much about what people will think because it's going to be a big turnout regardless. I think some of you will be going to a wedding or will be getting married. So, congratulations to that! I also think that some of you will be meeting your future spouses in this pile (you won't know it yet though). Overall, I feel that this month is a great month for you to focus on community building.

Cards Used: The Emperor, The Hierophant, 9 of Swords, King of Wands, Justice, 3 of Discs, 8 of Wands, 4 of Wands, Ace of Cups.

extras: entrepreneurial spirit. aquamarine. blue butterflies. single father. "something cute, something for the summertime."

#occult #hoodoo #tarotreading #tarot #astro notes #pick a pile #divination #metaphysical #pick a card #pick a reading #divination readings #channeled message #tarot reader #dailytarot #witchblr #witch community #oracle deck #tarot deck #free tarot #spirituality #spiritual #intuitive readings #tarotblr #paid readings #tarot reading #manifesting #law of assumption #neville goddard #daily tarot #tarot cards

[damatically]

As someone who read all of the three boys' myth including the new myth of Rafayel... (myth spoilers)

I thoroughly believe MC deserves to have a villain arc if it weren't for her kind personality.

Miss girl gets in trouble bc of her heart and she doesn't even want it. She's born as the chosen one but not in a good context 😭

In Xavier's myth it was heavily implied that she's the bait to keep Philos alive.

In Rafayel's myth her heart needs to be carved out of her in order to fulfill the prophecy and it was implied that this keeps happening every god of sea prophecy. If it weren't for Rafayel stubbornly wanting to change the prophecy it wouldn't end. I mean looking at present timeline in game the sea certainly came back.

In Zayne's myth MC occasionally suffers bc of her heart painfully freezing her. And whenever she tries to reach out for the creatio protocore it would mean for Zayne to suffer on her behalf. And Zayne suffers bc of him loving her. wHICH ISNT EVEN WHAT SHE WANTED TO HAPPEN AT SHE JUST WANTS TO LIVE BUT ASTRA IS BEING A BITCH, AND ALSO FOR ZAYNE NOT TO SUFFER. Then like the other two this is on repeat too (the Jasmine fields.....)

Like she totally deserves the villain arc. Do you see the pattern here??? 😭 Xavier even mentioned that she lives for the people but not for herself and not even having a choice for herself. Princess! MC in Rafayel's myth is hyper aware that the people of her kingdom put her in the pedestal mainly bc of her heart. It was dehumanizing.

(Tbh i could be wrong with some information bc the myths is also written with "show don't tell" writibg in some parts like that's kinda horrible bc the myths are like 8 parts that's too short and leaving me to put them together is kinda disaster bc i sometimes cant read between the lines)

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace zayne #lnd zayne #lads zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #love and deepspace xavier #lads rafayel #lads xavier #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace

[sunkissed-zegras]

nika muhl hcs of her love languages?

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐒 ─ NK¹⁰

─ word count | 329

─ warnings | nothing but fluff!

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @uraesthete @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @paigeszn @ekisokau @plushkhiii and here's a link to my taglist if anyone would like to join!!

─ ev's notes | i tried a new style! of course i'm still gonna do normal headcanons but this style felt a little better, i hope yall enjoy!!

QUALITY TIME

Nika loves spending her free time with the people she genuinely loves. If she doesn't really care for you, she will never ever spend more than a moment with you if she doesn't care about you. In her eyes, her time is incredibly valuable so she only spends time with people she cares about (or at least, likes)

Any time she isn't at practice or games, she's with you. She's in your dorm, just relishing in your company. She doesn't even necessarily even have to be talking with you ─ you both could be doing your own things, it's just being around you that she likes. It helps her destress, knowing that she can spend time with you without putting too much energy into it. Your energy recharges hers, it's her favorite thing in the world.

ACTS OF SERVICE

Anytime you need anything, and I truly mean anything ─ she will do it for you. Whether it's as simple as washing the dishes or having to drive an hour to pick you up. She will do it.

Again, she thinks her time is incredibly valuable so when she does these things for you, she does it out of the love she has for you. Nika also loves the feeling of being needed, it makes her just feel all warm and full because like... yes! You need her for something!

GIFT-GIVING

Oh my god, she loves to spoil you! And she does it with incredibly expensive things because she is a very bougie girl so she wants her baby to be just as (if not more) bougie as her!

It fulfills her in a way that's like the anticipation leading up to the moment when you unwrap the carefully chosen present awaiting your reaction. This love language is a tangible expression of her love for you. It's her way of showing how much you mean to her and how grateful she is to have you in her life.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#nika muhl x reader #nika muhl imagine #nika mühl #nika muhl #uconn #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #ncaaw #ncaa tournament #ncaa #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #uconn wcbb #wcbb x reader #wcbb

[jgracie]

I CAN FIX HIM (NO REALLY I CAN)

masterlist | rules

❝ Can you please writhe a one shot with Jason and daughter of Psyche reader based on the song “I can fix him(no really i can)” by Taylor?Like imagine some time later when Jason is finally free from his demigod duties and goes to college with his friends,here he meets reader.Since she is a daughter of Psyche (the goddess of the human soul)she understands him immediately and she help him understand himself,discovering what he likes and to heal from his past and of course they fall in love. ❞ — anon

in which they shook their heads saying “god help her,” when you tell ‘em he’s your man

pairing jason grace x psyche!reader

warnings feelings of self loathing, slight bullying

on the radio . . . i can fix him (no really i can) (taylor swift)

an they r in new rome uni in this !! i feel like jason is a tad ooc but also its 11:30pm as im posting this and im tired

Everything you heard about Jason Grace screamed ‘red flag’. Son of Jupiter, ex-praetor, raised by wolves then sent to camp at the mere age of three or four - what was there not to be afraid of? To add to that, the way he carried himself exuded power in a way that would make anyone cower in fear. His face was inscrutable, crystal blue eyes unreadable in the same way the storms his father made were

However, you weren’t anyone. Your mother was Psyche, goddess of the soul. And as a daughter of Psyche, you could see right through just about everyone, including Jason Grace. Whenever you tapped into his energy, you couldn’t help but feel he was the complete opposite of what he presented himself as. While Jason seemed content with solitude to everyone around him, you knew that deep down, he was just seriously misunderstood and in desperate need for some loving

You were right. Jason’s life had been hell, especially the past couple years. His memory had been taken away from him, making him lose ties with all his friends and a potential lover, Reyna. Then, he’d gotten a new girlfriend and new friends, only for his girlfriend to dump him and his friends to all be too busy to spend a single second with him. Still, Jason had persevered. He applied and got accepted to New Rome University, he attended all his lectures, he got perfect grades, he tried his best to socialise. 

The latter never worked out though. People either saw him as Jason the traitor, the guy who’d chosen to leave with the Greeks instead of fighting for his camp (Jason would stifle a laugh at the phrase ‘his camp’ - if this were really his camp, they wouldn’t have easily found a guy who’s the epitome of everything un-Roman to replace him. They weren’t any better), or as Jason the soldier, the man who’d toppled Kronos’ throne and won in a fight against the titan Krios, absolutely untouchable and worshipped in a way that would make his father seethe with jealousy

Eventually, he gave up. If that’s how they wanted him to be, so be it. He shut himself off from the world, focusing solely on his studies and his plans for shrines for every God and Goddess. Little did he know, a certain someone was formulating the perfect plan to become his friend

Your plan backfired. You’d spent weeks keeping note of all the classes you had with Jason, even occasionally following him to see where he’d go after class (his dorm, immediately), and yet you couldn’t seem to get a single conversation out of him. The closest you’d gotten was when you sat next to him in one of your lectures and dropped your pen - he’d simply handed it to you without a word. For the split-second your fingers brushed, you took on all his pain and felt it pull you apart. How could he cope with all of this baggage? 

Luckily for you, the fates work in mysterious ways that in this case, happened to be in your favour

“Oh, I’ll leave. Sorry.” Someone mumbled from behind you. You had been having a hard time sleeping as it was exam season, meaning everyone’s late night stress as they did last minute cram sessions piled onto you, so you decided to go to the one place you knew would be quiet. It was a small garden you’d discovered as a freshman and dubbed as ‘your spot’, and you’d often come when you were feeling extra overwhelmed

Turning your head, your eyes widened as you saw none other than Jason Grace, who was about to go back to his dorm

“No, wait! You can stay, I don’t mind,” this was a first for Jason. Usually, people would go the other way at the sight of him, not offer to let him sit with them. He felt a gut-wrenching, yearning feeling in his stomach, and you felt it too. Softly, you patted the spot on the bench next to you. It was quiet between you, but with that simple gesture, you had made an everlasting mark in Jason’s mind

After that night, instead of leaving his bag on the seat next to him, Jason would put it on the floor in hopes that you’d see the empty seat and choose to sit there. You, ever the empath, did. The more you sat with Jason, the more words were said between you. You started the conversations, of course, asking him about his day and telling him about whatever minor inconvenience you had that morning

“I ran out of toothpaste,” Jason had said to you one day as you took your laptop out of your bag. This was his first time initiating a conversation. He wasn't sure why he did it, and cringed internally the moment those words came out of his mouth - toothpaste, Jason, really? - but you’d smiled and asked if he wanted to come with you to the shops after class, since you also needed to stock up on some supplies

That was the day Jason’s walls began crumbling down. Suddenly, he seemed to loosen up. His posture slackened and he smiled more often, told more jokes and even engaged in your banter. People gave the two of you weird looks as you walked around New Rome in fits of laughter, but neither of you cared 

Well, not until one fateful day. Jason had been making his way to class with two coffees in hand, one for you and one for himself, when he’d overheard two people deep in conversation. He’d never been one to eavesdrop, but when he heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t help himself

“That poor girl, she has absolutely no idea what she’s getting herself into,” one of them said. The other hummed in agreement, pity laced in his voice 

“She thinks she’s doing a good thing, being friends with him and all, but he’s just going to break her heart like he did Reyna’s. Jason Grace is no good.”

He nearly dropped his coffees. Suddenly, all the confidence he’d built came crumbling down, being quickly replaced with those walls he knew all too well, the only things he could trust other than you. Since he loved you so dearly, this was for the best. You’d find some other guy to befriend eventually. If all of Camp Jupiter could replace him after years of service, who’s to say you couldn’t after a couple months of being friends?

Coincidentally, you happened to be looking for Jason when you saw him standing there, a blank look on his face - the same one people had warned you about in your first year at NRU. This time, however, they didn’t have a fighting chance in fooling you. Even without your powers from being Psyche’s daughter, you knew Jason was a sweet guy with the kindest heart

“Jason, are you alright?” You asked, reaching to place a tender hand on his shoulder. He pulled away and your face dropped as you tuned into his feelings and realised the old Jason was making a comeback. It’s not like he’d ever been gone, no one ever gets rid of lifelong trauma and horrible experiences that quickly, but Jason’s aura hadn’t felt that self-loathing in a very long time

Looking behind you, you saw a couple give you a pitying look and the pieces clicked immediately. Scowling at them, you took Jason by the arm and dragged him to that garden where you first spoke. The garden that was no longer just your spot

“Whatever they said, I don’t care,” you told him, “they’re wrong, Jason. You can’t listen to them. From the moment I met you I knew they were wrong. Don’t let them win.” His eyes stared into yours, completely emotionless. His guard was up, and you didn’t know why (slight btd ref!!). Didn’t he trust you? 

His voice monotone, Jason replied, “this isn’t just about them, Y/N. You have no idea what I’ve been through. You don’t deserve to have to deal with that, it could affect you too. You could be making so many friends right now and yet you haven’t, because you chose to stick with me.”

The tension rose between you and you knew there was only one thing you could do: succumb to the pull he had on you once and for all. Grabbing him by the collar, you pulled Jason closer to you and kissed him fiercely

When you pulled away, you took a second to take in Jason’s dishevelled look before replying, “I don’t care. I’ll choose to stick with you in every lifetime.”

#jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace #jason grace x fem reader #pjo #pjo x reader #jason grace fanfic #jason grace drabble #percy jackson x reader #jason grace x psyche reader #daughter of psyche #psyche pjo #cynwrites

[featherwurm]

At some point between Moonrise and Baulder's Gate - the crew stops to clean up a bit, and I have an excessive amount of thoughts about social bathing as it applies to the tadfools:

Baulder’s Gate features several bathhouses (including the landmark location Hissing Stones) and they seem geared to a wide variety of clientele; pragmatic (bathing), personal (social and solicitous), and political (a place of meeting) – it can be assumed that group bathing is a norm in the city at all social strata, although wealthier private residences also undoubtedly feature private bathing arrangements. Gender divides do not seem common in Baulder’s Gate on a whole*, and co-ed bathing could likely be a norm as well.

Individual headcanons below the cut - your mileage may vary, this is pulled roughly out of D&D lore, a few character interactions, thoughts about Roman baths, and my ass;

Tav – From the lower middle class of Baulder’s Gate, she grew up with normal family outings to the bathhouse to clean and socialize. In the monastery, cohabiting with a variety of people, group bathing was also a norm (also just… hanging out on a hot day with your buddies or whatever.) Her order views the body kindly, though not worshipfully, and does not view it as a vehicle of shame. It should be cared for with attention and thought to best use it, and while pleasure is inherent (and unshameful) to human nature it is not fundamentally a part of just being naked. She finds nothing out of the ordinary to toss off your clothes and jump in the river with your buddies.

Karlach – Also from Baulder’s Gate’s lower social strata, she too grew up using bathhouses as a place to get clean, have some fun, and be extremely bored while your parents caught up on the gossip. Similarly, working for Gortash meant the occasional political meeting at the Hissing Stones or other locations (a place you CERTAINLY want to take your bodyguard – although she wouldn’t get to enjoy the bathhouse while working). Living in Avernus for a decade in a militaristic setting has also thrown off her sense of normalcy – if you ever get a chance to clean up there (extremely rarely) you take it whatever the circumstance may be. She’s happy to get naked, get in the water, and get clean whoever the company is. (As little children, both Tav and Karlach had to be actively removed from fountains, the river, and suitably large puddles when they presented the opportunity to be in the water – which both of them love.)

Shadowheart – Sharans and the enclave she is from seem to have some issues with pleasures of the flesh and see them as negative and to be shunned. Life is misery and pain and you better get used to it through daily practice. Given her lack of memory of any childhood normalcy, any time spent around other people in a casual way is long gone. She does not seem to have come out of it with bodily shame herself, but undoubtedly finds the idea of just being comfortable with nudity in a platonic way to be alien. Given that she can’t swim, it adds another layer of discomfort being in the water. It takes her some time to warm up to jumping in the river with the others, but she does come round, although she sticks to the shallows until she learns to swim.

Lae’zel – Githyanki don’t seem to have any shame about bodies, at least given their various styling of armor and clothing. Given their almost eusocial social structure and militaristic culture, it’s unlikely there’s much stigma over the body or that of others. She’s certainly with a peculiar group here, but whatever, you need to get the blood out of your hair eventually – the others are sort of strange-looking to her eye for a while though (Shadowheart, Gale, and Astarion seeming like the frail offspring of some small animal with their soft pinkness, Karlach, Tav, and Wyll resembling more of carapaced insects with their ridges and horns.)

Gale – While Waterdeep has it’s spas, these seem more places of relaxation and retreat rather than practical bathing establishments (he does like a nice relaxing treatment – in a robe of course.) Gale has spent so long cooped up in his tower having a weird relationship with the goddess of magic that the idea of just… casually being naked with other mortal people is probably completely off his radar. It is not culturally or personally familiar to him, and feels a little uncouth. He’s going to find a reason to go cook and then clean up by himself later.

Astarion – Speaking of any sense of normalcy having been long gone, his only real use of Baulder’s Gate’s bathhouses has been picking up victims for the last couple centuries (almost always in a sexual context.) Approaching casual bathing with others as any kind of normal is something that will take a reserved approach and a lot of patience as with most things with him. He’s snarky and weird about the whole thing, but it’s to be expected. He later more politely refuses as he works on boundaries and sorts himself out – there’s not enough time in game to sort this shit out. Plus he smells a bit of death no matter what he does – apart from physically getting stuff off his body he’s more reliant on perfume than bathing to feel clean.

Wyll – From Baulder’s Gate and used to playing around wherever he feels like it, it’s not foreign to him to enjoy a bathhouse or river romp (especially in light of various political bargaining happening in the baths) but being from the upper class of Baulder’s Gate he’s not the most casual about it. In his time away from Baulder’s Gate, and being as young as he was, he’s become a little sensitive about it, given his gentlemanly approach developed through his time in the wilds. Still though, it wouldn’t put him off, prior to Mizora’s transformation of him, at which point he’s got body image issues to work through before he’s comfortable again. The tieflings (Karlach and Tav) try to be re-assuring but they come on a little strong about it (hard not to – what he’s viewing as demonic punishment they view as normal for their own bodies – horns and ridges and all.)

Halsin – Look we all know the man likes to be naked and “one with nature”. Bodies are normal and being naked is natural. He’s not caught up on anything, although he might be literally a bear about it if he’s comfortable.

Jahira – Another Baulder’s Gate native who’s used to the city’s amenities. She is much too old and much too traveled to be fussed about who’s around at the evening wash up. She might pretend to be offended or ruffled (or too casual) if she thinks it’s funny – otherwise she’s too busy soaking her joints to care.

Minsc – Minsc is just happy to be here. Are we bonding by bathing together? Ok! But be careful of Boo – he is a delicate creature and gets very angry if he gets soap in his eyes.

Minthara… wasn’t in my playthough, sorry. But I’m certain she’d have the opinion that it’s normal for the ladies to socialize and such while washing but involving the men is bizarre and tasteless.

*Given the normalcy of non-binary, trans, and intersex bodies and identities in BG3, which I personally love.

#BG3 #baulders gate 3 #headcanon #art #personal #sketch

[mrsparrasblog]

The selection pt.1

Unable to feel emotions, a deadly weapon, unable to empathize with the enemy, a calculated killer. It was as if you were listening to a presentation about yourself. So this was your new place now, musty, dirty, and you needed to work with men. Unbelievable. You were so much better alone, so why send you with a team? But order is order.

Your new boss was like every other boss you had in the past fourteen years: white, old, and unable to protect himself. He relied on you, didn’t trust his allies, closest friends, and sometimes not even himself. But it was easy to trust a mindless creation, someone who shouldn’t be able to feel or think—at least that's what he says. Did he really think you hadn’t got a voice in your head? You had it—it wasn’t always there, but it was sometimes. You weren’t dumb.

"Welcome to the Team," Price said, extending his hand to you. Shepard introduced you to him and his team of barbaric monkeys. You didn’t bother to shake his hand; you hated fake niceties. Was he your boss too? You hoped not. There were already enough useless men in charge of you.

"Shake your superior's hand," he grunted out, not amused by your behavior. Superior—only more men in power. How usual. You ignored him, only rolling your eyes and looking at Shepard, your real boss. If he said shake this man's hand, you do; if not, you don’t.

"John, she doesn’t work with ranks," Shepard tried to explain. I’m an assassin, not a soldier, you thought. Soldiers weren’t something you were particularly fond of, nor were your teachers. Well, if you don’t count him, but that’s not important right now anyway.

"Well, bad for her. I don’t need someone on my team who can't show me a tad of respect," he snorted, glaring at you like he wanted to kill you—sweet, you thought, how naive he was. He really didn’t know what you were capable of.

"There is no discussion. She is on the team as long as I need her, understood?"

"Understood, General."

The boss left, telling you to try to listen to John but always listen to him first. Reasonable. You’d heard weirder requests.

"So, we're stuck with her now," the boy called Gaz, what a stupid name, asked.

"Yes."

"At least you aren’t hard on the eyes, lass," Soap joked. The man with the stupid name and the worst haircut chuckled while his hand touched your shoulder in an attempt to tease you and soften the tension between you and the new team.

By instinct, your hand grabbed his, putting it in a position where it would be so easy to break his hand. "Прикоснись ко мне снова, и я убью тебя!" you hissed, and the men only looked stupidly at you.

"Ah, she just doesn’t understand English, poor lass."

"I understand English perfectly fine. I said if you touch me again, I’m going to kill you!" The monotonous look in your eyes sent shivers down Soap's spine. He knew you weren’t playing; crazy, that’s what you were to him, and you didn’t mind, as long as he didn’t touch you again.

"Okay, why don’t we all calm down?"

"Great, Cap."

"Tell us your callsign or something about you," the older man said, and you asked yourself what would happen if you just stood up and left. But the mission was more important than your ego or annoyance for all of them. Well, except the ridiculous masked man; at least he knew how to keep his mouth shut.

"Love, 19," was all you said. The truth was, you didn’t remember your name anymore. It was all gone, buried deep between all the sessions you needed to endure until the final selection. You knew that you were called 0694 most of your life, until the accident which made them call you Love.

"You don’t seem like someone with the callsign 'Love,' more like Medusa."

"Gaz, stop!" the old man scolded. You could see the wrinkles on his face. He was at least 40, you thought. Was he more like Shepard, or Durinov? Well, he wasn’t a good guy, that's what you knew about him. But who is a good guy after all?

"Okay, Love, the Lieutenant will show you your room."

"Хорошо" You bark at him, getting ready to follow the Ghost masked guy to your new room.

"Speak English, Love."

"Fine, Captain," you scoffed at him. You were sure you wouldn’t like it here. Why couldn’t a better boss get you someone who just gave you orders? You were good at following orders: Kill him—done, torture him—done, make him pay—easy. Just this American sitcom family situation was too nauseating for you. Your thoughts went away to the prospect of skinning some of them alive, but not allowed.

You walked with Ghost to your new place. He was taller than you and bulkier, but that didn’t mean he was stronger. You fought a lot against guys like him—brutes—and they always lost. Strength isn’t enough without a brain, but he seemed smarter than the other ones; he didn’t talk, and you could appreciate that.

"This is it," he gestured to a single room with white walls and a twin-sized bed in the middle. It was one of the better places you’d slept in, if you forget Budapest, Moscow, and Prague. Stupid girl, you thought to yourself. Don’t dwell on your memories; they're gone, gone, gone.

"Okay."

"You don’t talk much," he observed.

You only nodded firmly, not bothering to use your lips to form words.

"Good," he said before walking away.

You threw your bag into the corner. You didn’t have much besides your uniform, weapons, and that washed-out picture of him, which you should have thrown out a long time ago. But it's like a warning for you, you thought. Maybe it was indeed sentiment, which you wouldn’t admit—not after that day.

In search of the training room, you walked past the meeting room where the men still sat as if time stood still.

"Shouldn’t the TF 141 have just four of us, Cap?" the man with the cap asked. If you remembered right, he was called Gaz or something like that.

"Shepard only approved of this task force if she would join, so it's off the table."

"She is crazy," Mohawk guy stated.

"Maybe so, but she's great in the field."

"How do you know, Ghost?"

"Met her in Lisbon four years ago, but as an enemy."

"Four years ago, she was 15."

"Indeed."

"This can't be true."

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

Lisbon, March 2018

The storm howled through the gloomy streets of Lisbon. It was one of your first solo missions: just kill the target and finish. Nothing special, but lying on the rooftop with your sniper gun was more uncomfortable than you had originally imagined. Of course, you were used to discomfort, but the missions were always your safe space. Sleeping outside was easy—safer than there.

But now you were soaked through to your underwear, and the damn target was taking his sweet time. You were trained to lie here on the rooftop for several days, and you won't mess up your first mission; it all factors into the evaluation. And you already messed up that hard. You needed to improve before the grand selection.

Footsteps echoed behind you. You had the choice to turn around and fight off the intruder or to keep focusing on your mission. If he caught you turning around, you would fail, and you really didn’t need this. You decided to foolishly turn around, aiming your gun at him. He was tall, bulky, with blonde hair and several scars on his face—a soldier. Probably, your survival rate was around 75%.

Of course, he pointed his gun at you too, making this even more annoying than it already was. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?” He had a British accent, probably SAS, judging by his uniform.

“I’m a NATO soldier just keeping watch. No one shoots the governor,” you tried hard to speak with an American accent, maybe he was a brute and not a brain. The uniform you wore didn’t have any flags, atypical for NATO.

“Don’t bullshit me, tell me the truth before I put a hole through your head,” he barked at you, at least only half an idiot, you guessed.

“Bold of you to assume that I won’t put a hole through your head first.”

“As if you were able, little girl.” Before you could form a cocky remark, you already had a bullet in your shoulder. He thought you would leave your position because of the bullet, but you stayed put; you needed to finish the mission. He hunched over to you, turning you around while drawing his knife out.

“Блядь, неужели ты не можешь просто позволить мне быть,” you cursed under your breath, drawing your knife too, standing up without a hint of pain in your eyes, making him wonder how this was possible.

“NATO, huh?”

He tried to bring you down with his pure brute strength, but as always, he forgot that strength isn’t everything. “You shouldn’t have such a bad stance,” you smirked before he could defend his technique; you already put a knife inside his hip.

The big, incapable soldier winced on the ground as if a knife wound hurt that bad. Before he could reach for something, you were already on your way to your rope, grabbing it to jump from the rooftop.

“By the way, never disturb my work again, сука,” and with that, you shot him in the shoulder, eye for an eye, and jumped from the rooftop.

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

"That's how the governor died?" Price asked, and Ghost only nodded. It wasn't one of his proudest moments; he would have won if he hadn’t been so unfocused. Since then, his missions were always about constant focus and never underestimating an enemy.

“She is a terrorist, we don’t work with terrorists,”

“Have fun fighting me, you lose, short man—all of you will lose,” you said, showing yourself from the corner where you had been hiding. They needed to tolerate you for their silly little task force.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #captain john price #ghost cod #ghost #ghost headcanons #ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfic #ghost call of duty

[comradekatara]

You have thoughs regarding Kanna & Katara's relationship?

SO MANY <- please do click on that link bc i think it’s actually one of the best posts i’ve ever made, but also my whole kanna&katara tag slaps bc it’s secretly one of my favorite relationships in the entire show. like there’s just something so fascinating to me about the way that kanna is established to have been exactly like katara when she was a kid, and yet now she embodies the repressive paradigm that forces katara to do gendered domestic labor and limits where she can go and what she can do. and also that dynamic is pretty subtle, because our last scene with kanna (in the present) is her giving katara her blessing and telling her that she gave her hope after all these years. like it’s not that she wants to be this overbearing nag who forces katara to tire herself out with chores all day, but she also knows exactly how katara thinks because she once was her, so she’s like “if she goes outside she will get IDEAS and RUN AWAY to the NORTH POLE.” and then she does. chiasmus moments!!!! clapping and cheering for chiasmus!!!!!

kanna is SUCH an important presence in katara’s life, and I think before katara learns about what kanna did and how she grew up (from yagoda, from pakku, and from hama) she kind of just takes her for granted because again, she’s just her overbearing nagging grandma who always takes sokka’s side and clearly thinks she should also act like a miserable boring adult. but what’s crazy about that is that katara is also so obviously her favorite?? like sokka is the golden child (not that katara is the scapegoat, to be clear, sokka is just The Good One to katara’s untamable rebellious spirit) but katara is still her favorite. specifically because she loves katara’s passion and drive and desire for adventure and revolution.

kanna is struggling between her desire to indulge katara in her wild fantasies and her need to keep her safe at all costs. she’s the one who tells katara the stories of the avatar in the first place. she is the one who first forms that inexorable spark within her. katara is the spitting image of kanna, in every way. she has her drive, her sense of adventure, her conviction and determination, her love, her hope, her sense of justice, her penchant for telling stories. katara gets it all from her, including her necklace. and there’s something just so undeniably lovely and poignant about that, the strength of the bond between women across multiple generations who have lost so much and struggled due to imperialist violence, but have also resisted, and fought, and passed down stories they told themselves to survive, and given each other hope.

#ariadnesweb #asks #kanna&katara #katara #kanna #analysis #ish #kanna I love you kanna you are my grandma. kanna #I will never not be irrevocably moved by the bond between grandmother and granddaughter #like. listening to your grandmothers harrowing ass stories about being a refugee genocide survivor etc etc is literally the most important #rite of passage there is.. #and kanna just wants to keep her safe. she’s becoming what she fundamentally disagrees with in the interest of keeping her safe #but also she trusts sokka to keep her safe which like. wahhh… that’s a post for another time #being the favorite grandchild (and also the only girl) is such a tremendous honor it rly is #(I guess for me being the only girl is more important bc all my siblings and cousins are boys . but like) #UGHHH……. grandmothers……

[thekeeperof-thefandoms]

Headcanons of Lucifer watching his s/o and Charlie getting along and maybe even having a little musical note together I just know he'd be getting all teary eyed and shit seeing his baby girl having some form of mother figure or someone she can really look to for advice currently present in her life ❤️ Thanks sm hope u have a good day/night!

Absolutely!

I think at first the relationship between Charlie and anyone her dad dates is awkward because she's so nice and trying to be supportive and Lucifer's new s/o would be trying too hard to create that bond. But steadily, you two would find real things you have in common and begin spending time together.

I'm going to use myself for reference here, but I personally really like arts and crafts kind of stuff and am willing to listen to pretty much all genres of music as long as I like the beat/rhythm. So I imagine most of your bonding is done making posters for the hotel, doing crafts with the guests, and just in general vibing to music together.

Like, one suggested activity for the group is coloring because it's a good outlet and it becomes so popular you guys just have a permanent stack of coloring pages and books available with marker, pens, colored pencils, and you, Charlie, Lucifer, and Vaggie are all just coloring and talking, Lucifer's telling embarrassing stories about baby Charlie for you and Vaggie, and you share a few embarrassing stories of yourself to make Charlie feel better and the absolute relief on her face is palpable.

Charlie is nervous because some sinners critiqued her hotel, her appearance, how her dad had to bail her out in the fight against heaven and it's all just making her upset. And of course her dad and her girlfriend are gonna say stuff about how she's beautiful, the hotel is a wonderful idea, and she was so brave in that fight. And like, yeah you're dating her dad and you've been super nice so far, but when you sit down next to her and ask quietly, "Can I offer you some advice?"

"Please? I feel like I don't know what I'm doing."

You laugh, patting her shoulder. "You're young, Charlie, you're not supposed to have it all figured out. But one thing you can do, is decide not to let judgemental pricks get to you. Take every criticism with a grain of salt. Improve, adapt, and filter out bullshit. You can't make everyone happy, and you'll exhaust yourself if you try. So as long as you're happy and at the end of the day you can say you're proud of what you've done, that you tried....well, that should be enough, right?"

Charlie thinks about it and nods. There's a visible shift in her attitude. "Thanks, I needed to hear that....Do you think you could help me read through some of the reviews and stuff? I want to improve if there's any genuine issue that I can address and Dad and Vaggie are....a lot. They just keep trying to tell me everything is perfect."

"They're just trying to hype you up. They love you a lot, so naturally they want you to feel successful and excited. Come on, let's go make some big bowls of ice cream and read through those reviews using silly AI voices. It'll be hilarious."

You and Charlie head off to do just that, talkin and laughing, and neither one of you notices Lucifer absolutely melting into the floor from a few floors up, as he clings to the railing he was leaning against to ease drop. He's gonna need a few minutes to recover. He's crying happy tears. His little girl is grown up and getting along with his partner and they're spending time together and enjoying things together. You're giving her advice and offering her comfort and meeting Charlienat her level and he's just more convinced you're perfect.

He may or may not be ring shopping in the near future. Probably with Ozzie and Bee. They've always had good taste and will probably be thrilled to help him. And if Ozzie is also casually looking for a ring while they're out, well, Lucifer won't say anything.

#fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer x reader

[joshlmbrt]

YOU ARE ON THE LINE WITH … STEVE HARRINGTON! | ‘let my love open the door’.

CW; if you DON’T enjoy children - this whole theme has children in it, steve being absolutely dumb starstruck by you, a sad birthday for little emory :(, few mentions of pronouns - but i try not to use much (if it makes you uncomfortable, you can always change it to what ever pronoun you’d like! always try to make it inclusive to everyone), r is mentioned to have long hair.

‘You may now ask Mr.Harrington a question.’ It’s a robotic voice of a woman - though she sounds kind.

“Where did you guys meet?” 

It’s Steve’s turn to receive a call, fingers scratching at the stubble that had grown out these past couple of weeks - his brown eyes lift and watch as you giggle with Emory, her brown curls bouncing as she jumps back and forth. 

“Well…”

It’s 1996 and it's Emory’s 4th birthday. She had insisted (cried and begged Steve really) for a birthday at the Hawkin’s local skating rink. 

She was always mesmerized by the flashing sign outside and the posters that were hung up outside the stores with cute colors and shapes. 

Who was he to say no to his little girl? 

Erica Sinclair and Robin Buckley had come through with helping with decorating the small corner the rink had provided when he rented a full day of skating, eating sugary sweets, and cool music. 

Nancy and Jonathan make it in time, little Henry tugging at Jonathan’s hair, blue slobber shines over his mouth and some on his chubby cheeks. Jonathan winces, hand coming up and pulling his hand from his hair, nom nom noming jokingly, causing the boy to cackle. 

“I brought the much needed goody bags.” Nancy grins, shaking the box with the tiny plastic bags that were filled with things that the other parents are going to have to worry about. 

“Oh, the parents are gonna hate me.” 

Nancy grins. “That’s their problem to deal with.” 

Erica stands back and nods at Robin who was trying to attempt a straight face as she stands on the step ladder, but her hands and knees shake with nervousness. She’s quick to make her way down. 

“Where’s Emory?” Nancy asks. Jonathan lets out a yelp when Henry latches onto his hair again. Nancy shakes her head, reaching for the hair snatcher. 

Steve smirks a bit, shaking his head. “She insisted on getting ready at Max’s. So, Max is going to bring her when she’s ready to make an entrance.” 

“Live music and entertainment is here!” Eddie Munson is next to step in, arms lifting over his head as he makes his way towards the corner where the group had gathered now. 

“You are not playing here.” Steve is quick to shut down the idea. 

Eddie frowns, arms dropping by his side. “Why not?” 

“Some of the parents won’t like that type of music in front of their little ones.” Robin points out, walking over and grabbing the box of goodies Nancy had made. 

“But Steve doesn’t mind.” He points towards Steve. 

“That’s because he doesn’t really mind-”

“Unless I have to quickly correct him on words.” Steve calls from over his shoulder, checking the pizzas. 

“He’s your friend. The others are not.” 

“Ouch, Buckley,” Eddie dramatically places a ringed hand over his heart. “You wound me.” 

She grins and closes one eye, mimicking a bow and arrow, fingers spreading when she ‘lets go’. He drops to the ground. 

“Ew, get up,” Erica crosses over his legs. “The floors are disgusting.” 

Eddie chuckles, lifting from the ground. There’s a tiny gasp that is heard from the door before little Mary-Jane covered feet are running their way over. 

“It’s perfect! Perfect! Perfect! Perfect!” She jumps, arms lifting towards Eddie, who, with no hesitation, lifts her up from the ground - glitter from her tutu sticking to his black shirt as he walks around. 

Her eyes are wide as she listens to Eddie speak, little fingers that are painted pink with a coat of glitter over them press into her chubby cheeks when she sees the present table. 

“Can I have one, Daddy?” She’s quick to look at Steve with wide eyes, lips poked out into a pout. 

“After cake, okay?” He promises, looking at her. He grins, taking in her appearance now. She had insisted on wearing fairy wings too. He wasn’t about to say no on her special day - all except for the present. 

She huffs, arms crossing over her chest as she looks at the bags. “Sorry, princess. But I promise, after cake, we can open.” 

“Can we eat cake first?” She peeks over at him. 

“Yeah, can we?” Eddie wonders aloud. Steve narrows his eyes at him with no malice. 

“No,” He says pointedly towards Eddie, who lifts his shoulders and one of his hands in a defensive manner. “We have to have something before that, okay?” 

She sighs, pressing an elbow to Eddie’s shoulder, cheek pressing into her palm. “Ooooo….kay.” 

“Oh, I think I see the birthday girl!” There’s a cheery, unfamiliar voice who catches Steve’s attention - his eyes widen when they land on you, in a stupid uniform you hated - khakis and a tucked in polo shirt. 

But you got to wear skates on the floor - a rule for the workers only. 

You maneuver gracefully, almost like you’re floating, but on wheels. OBVIOUSLY, STEVE!!! 

Robin makes him stumble from her elbow knocking into his bicep, blinking dumbly as he looks over at the short haired girl. “She asked you a question.” Robin strains the words through a toothy smile. 

He blinks again, lips parting as he slowly turns and looks at you, realizing that you’re suddenly in front of him. How long did he black out for? Why is he acting like a total idiot? 

You laugh softly and he thinks the sound would be enough to melt an ice pop like it melts his insides and turns all sticky and mushy. “I was wondering if you need any help?” 

He looks back at the table, the you, and back at the table again, scratching at his temple. You smile to yourself when you notice the brown and caramel locks and how some curl inward by his temple. 

He’s handsome, anyone could tell when they immediately look at the male. Perfect hair. A good sense of style. Pretty eyes with pretty eyelashes. Freckles. 

“I-I think we got it,” He looks back at you and you notice the way he gulps. “I…We are waiting for her friends and some more family to show up.” 

“Sounds like fun! Let me know if any of you need anything,” You let him know your name before rolling away, hair following behind you. 

“Dude,” Dustin startles him - he never realized that Dustin and Lucas had showed up. “You totally bombed.” 

“I did not,” Steve scoffs. He then tries to backtrack, hands landing on his hips. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.” 

Steve honestly wasn’t for sure why he, in Dustin’s words, bombed. He used to be so sure of himself when speaking to women he thought were attractive. But then you rolled in (literally) making his brain short circuit. 

It’s weird to him. 

“Sure you don’t.” Dustin walks over and places a unicorn bag by the other presents. Steve rolls his eyes when he notices how large the bag is. Uncle Duties, he had calmed before when he kept buying her small, random gifts that Emory keeps in the window sill and around her room. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s stepped on a sharp D20 - whatever that is. 

“Where’s Emory and Eddie?” 

“She wanted to go wait outside for her friends,” Lucas says. “They’re both sitting outside on the bench.” 

Steve nods, checks over everything once more, before walking past everyone and up the one step that leads towards the door. He pushes it open, stepping outside. “Whatcha doin’, lil Em?” 

She swings her feet slowly, looking at the parking lot that was almost empty - save for the cars everyone showed up in for Emory’s big day and the workers inside. 

“Waitin’ on everyone.” She fiddles with her fingers in her lap, eyes slowly blinking, lashes fluttering across her freckled cheek. Eddie is all aware of this situation, eyes quickly darting to Steve who looks over the parking lot. 

There’s a small glimmer of hope when she notices a car pulling into the parking lot, sitting straighter as she smiles widely. Once it’s parked, she is slightly dejected when she realizes it’s Hopper and Joyce with El and Mike clambering out of the backseat and following behind with a couple of bags in hand. 

“There’s the birthday girl!” Joyce clasps her hands together, making her way over and squatting down in front of her, pressing her finger towards her stomach, a small giggle escaping her mouth as she covers her tummy. “I love your fairy wings.” 

“Thank you, Auntie Joy.” She turns slightly to show them off more. Eddie stands and maneuvers away from the group, nudging his chin so Steve can follow. 

Steve glances at Hopper who waves his hand, motioning him to go on. He turns and follows Eddie behind the building - he’s being considerate of the others, pulling out a pack of Marlboro Reds. He offers one to Steve. 

Steve glances around nervously before caving in and pulling a stick from the pack. He’s been stressed and this might do a little something to tide that stress over. Eddie lights him up first before passing it over. 

“I don’t think anyone’s coming.” Steve blows out the smoke to the side, scratching at his forehead. 

Eddie hums around the cartilage, before pulling it from his mouth. Smoke bellows through his nose. “I know that feeling - it sucks. But we can make it work,” He nods. “She already has a bunch of people here.” 

“She was looking forward to spending some time with her friends outside of school,” He leaned against the wall, foot pressing flat against the brick. He shifts a bit from the uncomfortable feeling against his shirt. “Some of them even called and said that they would come.” 

Eddie’s lips pull into a frown, nodding as he scratches at his cheek with his right ring finger and pinkie, opening his mouth to speak. There’s a squeak that cuts him off, both of their heads quickly turning and looking at who just came out of the back door. 

It was you again - this time in run down black and white Chuck Taylors and a pack of Virginia Slims in hand. Steve’s eyes dart towards your hand before back at you. You quickly look at your hand as well, before bringing it around to your back, giving a nervous laugh. 

Eddie smirks. “Didn't take you for a smoker.” 

“I…I’m just…” You sigh. “I’ve been stressed. I just smoke half and always spray down and wash my hands before going back out.” 

Steve chuckles a bit. “It’s fine,” He watches as you take a hesitant step forward with a small smile. You pull one out, slipping it between your lips and quickly lighting it. “I have a question.” 

He doesn’t know what makes him blurt it out or what he’s even going to ask. 

Your eyes flicker towards him, a small smile pulling at your lips when you pull the stick from your lips. He notices a small print of your lipstick around the white cartilage. “Yeah?” 

Eddie glances between the two of you, eyebrow quirking in Steve’s direction when he seems to go dumb for a moment, stumbling over his words. Shaking his head, curls bouncing, he pats Steve’s chest, stubbing the cigarette against the brick and walking past the two of you. 

Steve watches him past with a helpless look, lips parted as he huffs. You tilt your head. 

“You seem like a nervous individual.” 

“Huh?” You open your mouth to repeat but he catches on to what you say, wincing when he cuts you off - because he’d much rather hear your voice instead of his own. “Oh, wait. No, nevermind. No, I-I’m not a nervous individual,” His cheeks feel hot. Unless it comes to very pretty individuals. 

“Thank you.” He blinks, staring at you. 

“Did I say that out loud?” 

You laugh softly, nodding. “You did.” He can’t help but notice how much prettier - if that’s even possible -  you are when there’s a pink flush over your own cheeks. 

“Sorry… I thought…I thought I kept that in my inner monologue.” He taps at his temple. You laugh loud now. It still melts his insides just like your small giggle he heard earlier and he finds himself smiling. 

“So…” You have finally reduced to small giggles now. “You had a question for me, Steve?” 

“You know my name?” 

“I do. Your family inside was asking about you.” He curses under his breath because he legitimately forgot he was at the back of a roller skating building with a cigarette that singes his fingers. He quickly drops it to the ground, hissing and shaking out his hand. 

“You okay?” You’re quick to step closer, dropping your own cigarette to the ground and taking his hand, inspecting the area. It wasn't a bad burn - not one where you take his hand in yours and pull it towards you anyway. 

He stares at you, nodding quickly. “Yeah…Yeah, I'm okay.” Your eyes look up at him, noticing just how close you’ve gotten to this stranger. You drop his hand, backing away an inch. 

You both stare at one another quietly before he’s quickly shaking his head and scratching the back of his neck that had turned warm. 

“I was…I was wondering if you’d like to maybe…help? If not, that’s completely fi-”

“I’d love to help,” You smile softly. You have a small inkling of why he’s asking. “I can teach her how to skate.” 

He smiles softly and nods. “She’d like that…yeah.” 

“I’ll meet you inside then.” You wink, bending down and grabbing the cigarette that you’d dropped and burned out. 

“See you inside.” He waves. He lets out a small huff when he hears the door shut, walking away. 

“You didn’t bomb this time.” He yelps and jumps back as he looks over. 

“Dustin. You’ve got to stop spying on me.” 

Dustin grins. “You love it.” 

🛼

Emory is passed out on the booth that has a crack down the middle. Eddie had gone out to his van and grabbed the flannel that he had in the front seat to cover Emory as everyone worked together to clean up. 

Nancy and Jonathan had already left with Henry, Mike, and El. Hopper and Joyce had left because they turn in earlier than what they usually do, due to an early morning the next day. 

All that remained was Robin, Erica, Dustin, Lucas, Max, Eddie, Steve. 

And you. 

You had stayed to help clean up, fairy wings that Emory had insisted for you to wear. You’d changed into your Chuck Taylor’s once again so your feet weren’t totally killing you tomorrow when you woke up. 

“Alright, I gotta head back home. I have some homework to catch up on.” Dustin throws one last paper plate into the trash. 

“Alright. Be careful.” Steve gives him a grateful smile, waving. He had a bit of blue icing on his finger. 

“He’s my ride,” Erica points at him. Lucas and Max nod in agreement, yawning at the same time. “I call shotgun.” 

“Was gonna let you take it anyway.” Lucas grumbles after her. 

Dustin waves at Steve, following the group out. Eddie peeks over at you who sweeps up a small area. He nudges Steve’s shoulder with his, tilting his head slightly towards your way. 

Steve glances at him before looking at you, then back at Eddie again. Eddie leans closer. “Get her number, or I will.” He whispers, walking off towards the booth where Emory lies, still snoozing away. 

Steve could not let that happen, because when Eddie puts on a charm, it actually works. 

He clears his throat, running a hand through his messy hair and walks over. “Hi.” He watches as you jump and spin around quickly. 

“Hi.” You smile softly once you realize who it is. 

“I…I have another silly question.” 

Your interest is piqued and brows lift as you tilt your head. “What’s your silly question?” 

“Could I - and please, feel free to completely laugh in my face and tell me to go - could…could I get your number, maybe?” 

“Maybe?” 

He thinks about that and shakes his head. “No…no, maybe. Just… could I get your number, please? I could take you out for dinner one night - as a thanks.” 

You smile. “I’ll be back.” You walk past him, leaving him to quickly spin and watch you as you walk towards the counter, grabbing a pen and a post-it note. He smiles wide, watching as you walk back and hand it over. 

“Call me tomorrow because I’ll be passed out as soon as I get home. Emory knows how to party.” 

Steve laughs almost too loud, covering his mouth. It was a silly joke and he didn’t know why he laughed that hard. 

“You like Enzo’s, right?” 

You smile. “I love Enzo’s.” 

“Alright. You… Me… Friiiii-” He pauses when you shake your head slowly at the mention of Friday. He squints his eyes. “Sattttturday night?” He finishes when he sees you nod your head in conformation at the mentioned day. “6:30?” 

“Enzo’s. You and I. Saturday night. 6:30. Sounds like a date.” You smile at him softly. 

“Sounds like a date.” He echos with a smile of his own. 

“That sounds like an absolute movie.” 

“It was. Definitely was,” He says. “This is also a cliche, but when we kissed, I swore I could feel the sparks between us.” 

“Was it hard being a single dad?” 

“Yeah. It was hard, you know. But having special people… finding someone special who will stay with you for a long time, I think I’m a pretty lucky guy.” 

‘Your time with Steve Harrington is about up!’

“Well, thank you, Mr.Harrington. I hope you have a wonderful day.” 

“Thank you.” Steve says, dropping the phone onto the receiver, standing from the chair and walking into the kitchen. He grins and leans against the doorframe. 

When you notice him looking at you, you send him a wink and a kiss. 

He does the same. 

— @joshlmbrt 2024

🛼 thanks for reading. reblogs, comments, feedback, & requests are welcomed & deeply appreciated!

#call 1800799dads! #cherry writes ✿ #dad!steve harrington x fem!reader #dad!steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #joe keery x reader

[dinogoofymutated]

Hey!!! Thank you again for Remy's one shot, it was amazing!!

I saw that you would like ideas for Cable and Warren, and I may have a few...

Especially for Warren....

I'd love to see Warren and mutant! Reader that "hate" each other, and reader thinks she has no chance with him, so she goes on a date. Warren is jealous and watches over her, and swoops in once the date goes sideways.

Words are said, feeling we shown, and Warren giver the fairytale kiss. (Could end with them going at it on a rooftop...)

Could be sfw or nsfw, either way I'll enjoy it immensely!!! I can't wait to see more of your work ❤️

Sfw! Warren/Fem!reader

OMGGGG UGG I LOVE THIS SM!!! I have a slight obsession with prompts like this- soooo yeah lololol. Oh! Also, I feel like I should mention this is more based off of comic and show warren, and not the version of him from the apocalypse movie. Hope this isnt too OOC!

Tws: Bad date, Warren is kind of an asshole but we love him. Kissing in the rain.

Warren Worthington is a dick. He's always teasing you, snatching your books, and pencils, and really everything you meed and holding it out of reach. He'll thwak you with a wing on purpose, always saying some stupid excuse like "Oh I didn't see you there." When you know damn well he did.

And he's not even like this to anyone else! It's incredibly frustrating, especially with how often he'll just up and completely ignore you to go flirt with Jean- who's still with Scott, might I add! Ugh!

It shouldn't matter to you whether or not he flirts with other people- the guy was clearly uninterested in you. But you just... can't help it. You really liked Warren, more so before this whole event started, when you didn't know him that well but couldn't help but blush at some of the things he did. You knew he could be kind, and he had a sweet side to him despite the cocky persona he's always pushing. (Because is it really a persona at that point?) But he just seemed so out of your league. Around the time you started pulling away from him was when the teasing started up, and to be honest, it had just confirmed your thoughts that Warren didn't like you.

Whatever, though. You'd get over it. You wanted to get over it. And the opportunity was presented to you to do just that. You had been out shopping one day with Jean when a man had approached you- not Jean, but you. It was really surprising, as most men would completely skip over you to talk to your beautiful best friend. You didn't hold any resentment towards her, it's not like she can help it. But when a rather attractive man approaches you, asking you on a date? You couldn't help but be flattered.

    You were excited! Really, really excited for this date. You had put on a cute outfit, even throwing on a little makeup, dresses to impress you know? Plus, your date was really attractive, and for some reason, you felt like you needed to spruce yourself up a little bit to impress him. It had taken you forever to be happy with your look, with Jean reassuring you over and over that you looked perfect and that everything would be fine!

    Eventually, his car pulled up in front of the mansion to pick you up for your date. You only had to glance at the window before you were running down the stairs excitedly. Of course, leaving couldn’t be all that easy, could it?

    “What are you all dressed up for?” You hold in your groan at the sound of Warren’s voice. He’s leaning against the foyer wall, cocking an eyebrow at you with a smirk that makes your heart do something funny. Didn’t change the fact that you kinda wanted to punch him. 

    “If you have to know, I’m going on a date.” You say, rolling your eyes. His smirk drops immediately, but you don't really notice as you put your shoes on. 

    “A date? With who?” Warren Pushes himself off the wall to approach you, grabbing hold of your arm to keep you from running off just yet. You make a face at him, confused and a little annoyed at his attention. 

    “A guy. He asked me out while Jean and I were at the mall, not that you really need to know.” You snark. Warren scoffs at that, looking a little frustrated. He begins to talk again, but he’s cut off by the sound of a horn honking from outside. Your face falls, and your stomach drops at the sound. Your date must be impatient. You don’t like the implications of that. Warren looks angry, letting go of you as he takes a step back.

    “You’re really going to leave with a guy who doesn’t bother to ring the doorbell?” He asks. You can’t find any words to say, feeling a little hurt. You turn away from him, quickly opening the door to leave. Warren can see your face light up a little as you wave at your date, closing the door behind you. Warren’s wings sag a little, left in the foyer looking like a lost puppy without you. 

    “You know, if you were nicer to her you probably would’ve had a chance.” Warren sighs dramatically at the sound of Bobby’s voice, turning to see that he had been watching the whole time, eagerly munching on a bowl of cereal.

    “Can it, dude”

    The fact that you're going on a date doesn't sit well with Warren. There's a pit in his stomach that he can't seem to shake, and when he tried to talk about it, Bobby and Scott just waved him off, telling him he was just jealous- and well, he was. But that wasn't the point! He didn't like that you were going on a date with someone random, or anyone besides him, really. He just had a bad feeling about it all.

    He knows he doesn't really have the right to be as jealous as he was. The two of you weren't together- but at some point, he thought you would be. He liked you. More than friends should. He had for a while, but you started to pull away from him- so he started to do anything he could to get your attention. Sure, he wasn't exactly being nice, but he wasn't being mean. He wasn't trying to bully you or put you down, he was just… teasing. 

     Warren had been couped up in the library as the evening went on, staring out the window with a sigh as it had started to pour. He had been thinking a lot about what Bobby had said earlier, dwelling over it constantly. Normally when he was so caught up in thoughts like this he would fly around the mansion to clear his head, but with the storm outside that definitely wasn't going to happen. He sighs, resting his head against the window while his eyes begin to drift close, but a movement in the corner of his eye catches his attention.  He sits up a little bit, squinting at first to see whatever it is through the rain. When he finally realizes, it is like he was hit over the head with disbelief. 

...

     The rain was cold. You were shivering as you walked along the asphalt driveway up to the mansion doors, sniffling the whole time. You knew you looked like a mess, mascara running down your cheeks in inky black streams, soaked to the bone without a jacket to keep you warm. The date was a bust. You should have known better. Been smarter. Hell, you should have asked someone else to drive you so that you wouldn’t be stuck in this situation in the first place. Or at least brought your wallet so that you could’ve used the payphone to call someone to come get you. But here you are. You were sad, wet, and despairing over the long walk up the driveway, but at least you were back at the mansion. 

    It’s hard for you to see through the heavy rain, so you keep your head down towards the ground to keep the rain out of your eyes. You don’t even realize that someone had run out to get you until you hear footsteps splash through the puddled driveway. You try your best to wipe the tears from your eyes, praying that they won’t be able to tell with the rain, but it is hard to hide the puffy red face the tears left behind. 

    You don’t really want look look up when you feel the rain stop, already knowing who it is by the sound of his gait. Warren holds the umbrella out to you, and you take it. He has his trench coat over his arm, and he uses the extra hand to wrap it around your shoulders. It’s awfully big on you, but it’s warm and dry, and you're thankful. You wipe at your eyes again when Warren takes the umbrella back, trying hard not to start crying.

    “What happened?” Warren asks. You finally look at him, and the concerned look on his face just makes you feel worse. Your face scrunches as you tear up again, and you look up at the umbrella as you try to avoid the embarrassment. You don’t really know what to say. You don’t really want to say anything right now. But you do.

    “He didn’t know I was a mutant.” You say, voice shaking a little. Although, you can’t help but let out a pitiful laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “He thought that the school was just some place for rich kids. I mentioned it offhand because I assumed he knew- and he didn’t. He wouldn’t drive me home so…” You make a vague motion at your soaking clothes. Warren looks angry. Angrier than you’ve ever seen him before. He opens his mouth to say something and decides better of it. Instead, He wraps an arm around you and begins to guide you back to the mansion. You blush a little at the action, but realize he probably just has to stay close to keep the both of you under the umbrella- not that his wings even fit, by the way.

    “You’re gonna be soaked.” You say, pointing towards his wings. Warren glances back, flexing the limbs just slightly, and shrugs. 

    “I’ll get over it. Wouldn’t be much of a hero if I let a pretty girl walk in the rain, would I?” Warren flirts, sending you a wink. You send him an incredulous look, before bursting out in laughter. Warren gasps, putting a hand over his “wounded” heart. 

     “Seriously? That was a good one, and you’re just laughing?” Warren complains, which only makes you laugh a bit harder. 

    “Oh please, that one was so cheesy!” You manage to say through the laughs. Warren is smiling, and it’s different than the smile he wears when he’s being an annoying jerk. His hair is wet, and his clothes are damp, but to be honest, you really start to understand why they call him Angel. You look away when you realize you’re blushing, but you can’t seem to wipe the smile off of your face. 

    “That guy was an idiot, by the way,” Warren says after a moment. Your smile falls a bit at the reminder of the start of the evening. “He really has no clue what he’s missing out on.” You snort at that, unable to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.

    “You sure have a lot to say for a guy who doesn’t like me all that much.” The words come out before you can really think about it, and you’re caught off guard when Warren stops walking. He doesn’t remove his arm from around your shoulders, but he moves so that he can look at you better.

    “What do you mean by that?” Warren asks, His face twisted in an expression you can’t quite figure out. The question and the seriousness in his tone surprise you, and you don’t quite know how to respond at first.

    “I- Huh?”

    “You don’t seriously think I dislike you, do you?” Warren asks again, worry bleeding through his tone. You furrow your brow in confusion.

    “What?? Warren, you’re not exactly subtle about it.” You mention, and Warren’s recoil is unexpected.

    “Oh my god, you do.” Warren holds his face in his hands for a quick moment, wondering how he had done so wrong. “Why would I dislike you? I literally spend every waking moment trying to get your attention!” You can’t help but let out a noise of confusion, mind working overtime to get the gears working in your head.

    “By tormenting me, you mean.” You say, and Warren vehemently shakes his head.

    “No! That’s not what I…” He begins, but he trails off. He’s trying to figure out something to say. Some way to let you know about how he feels, and his thoughts, but he just can't seem to find the words.

    “Okay then, Prove it.” You eventually say, crossing your arms defensively underneath his coat. Warren frowns at you.

    “What?” He asks.

    “Prove it. Prove that you don’t actually hate me.” You repeat again. You’re not exactly sure what you are expecting him to do or say. To be honest, you half expected him to give up altogether, but you were wrong about a lot of things.

    “I- you seriously want me to show you. Right now.” Warren asks again. You shrug your shoulders in response.

    “Yup.” Warren seems to take a moment for the confirmation to process, and then he smiles just slightly. Like he’s in disbelief about what he’s about to do. Before you know it, warren has dropped the umbrella, cupped your face with both hands, and pulled you into a kiss. 

    You’re wide-eyed for a moment, simply letting him kiss you in your disbelief as the rain pours down on you once again. Your mind still hasn’t quite caught up yet. Warren is kissing you so deeply, so lovingly, that you almost feel like you’re dreaming. He separates from you for a quick moment before kissing you again, this one a little less intense, and finally you find yourself catching up to the situation. You kiss him back, heart thundering in your chest. You can feel Warren physically relax, his wings fluttering just slightly behind him as you fully lean into the kiss, hands latching onto his shirt as you move closer. You feel him sigh into the kiss, and despite the cold rain, all you can feel is warmth. 

    When the two of you finally separate, Warren rests his forehead against yours. His pretty eyes look at you with fondness, and you find yourself wondering how you’d never seen it before. All he really wanted was your attention, didn’t he?

    “...We are so gonna get sick after this.” You mumble, brain still stalling a little bit. Warren lets out a laugh, pulling away to pick up the umbrella again. He pulls you a little closer than before as the two of you finally make it to the front steps.

    “Yeah, Probably.”

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[kirbybecomesastarwarrior]

Lady Celestine: Navigator of the Constellations:

The Forgotten Hero of Yore

The Merlyn of the KBASW (AU) & the love of Arthur's life.

Just to be clear Merlyn & Celestine are the same person it's just her disguise when she goes out.

For: @kirbyoctournament

Character Overview/Personality: She's the combination of Merlin from Disney's Sword & the Stone, Queen Eclipsa from SVTFW, Willy Wonka from (Wonka 2023 ), and Merlin from (the 2008 TV series).

She's an optimist... many of her peers mistake it for being naivety but in reality she's well aware of the darkness in the world... she sees it every day with her powers. Since seeing so many terrible things in the future she treasures the present and is always grateful for the things she enjoys in the now. (Also there's another reason for this....)

And finds the joy in the darkest of times...

She likes to be overly prepared... And tend to keep (*hoard) things they might need... Often tends to hold things she doesn't really need. With Arthus side eying her "You really need to keep that."

"Don't look at me like that Wart... WE MAY NEED THIS HARPOON ONE DAY WHO KNOWS & YOU'LL THANK ME LATER !" *proceeds to carry bloody harpoon home... with Arthur facepalming himself*

They actually did end up using that harpoon 3 months later & Celestine rubbed it in Arthur's face for an entire week. This constant hoarding led her to the first iteration of the Dimensional Cape, which started as a dimensional bag to store all her stuff. (LMAO).

This brings me to Celestine's wisdom & sass: similar to Merlin (the series & Disney) is filled with cleverness & comebacks. When she's doing her diplomatic work and out and about she knows how to do it "gracefully."But when she transforms into Merlyn, she lets loose exactly how Merlin is when he becomes Dragoon. Has no filter and becomes a chaotic old man throwing shade left & right

She hates' cursing so as resulting in hilarious, nonsensical words to place them: Fiddle sticks, biscuits, sweet butter crumpets, etc ~

Her future sight has made her a very empathic person... knowing the suffering of others in her visions. Creating a very kind, caring individual who wants the best for everyone, for them to be happy.

Keep reading for extra content & lore: (Which include spoilers for KBASW so tread carefully!) Other than that please continue...

Lore related content: (If you just want a short read)

In Denial (Oldest lore)

What Kind of King's in My Blood (Background info)

Celestine is Merlyn: (Most Current lore)

And fair warning I low-key wrote a novel... but there's a special prize at the end if you read all of it. (Extended Lore)

Lady Celestine serves as a catalyst for the anime Kirby series...

Now Celestine can't predict the exact future... only show potential paths. But her powers can guide people to the outcome they want and the path that constantly changing.

Absolom made Celestine focus solely on her future vision and trained her personally... He tried to paint himself as this kind saintly father figure towards her... but in reality, wanted to monopolize her ability.

He tremendous amount of pressure on the poor girl...(Mother Gothel Style "Mother knows best) Believing the only thing that made her valuable was her future sight. And one more thing about Celestine... SHE HATED HER FUTURE VISION! She didn't just see the future... she experienced it! Feeling all the raw emotions of the scene.

However, Absolum would guilt-trip her: "Oh you don't want to let everyone down... you're the only one who can do this... you're so special... you can't disappoint everyone..:

Causing her to grit her teeth and bear with it... Absolum was like a father to her she couldn't say "No." Plus it's not like she could let them down... One day she had a terrible vision foreshadowing the demise of Shiver Star...

The people of Shiver Star were infected by Dark Matter's essence... Nightmare & his demons robbed them and stole all the planet's resources... while the people were possessed and had their life sources absorbed by Dark Matter.

Celestine immediately ran to the other Heroes of Yore & Absolum.... for this and assured the worried child they'd take care of this... "don't worry we'll use this information and take care of it."

And they didn't just take care of it... THEY MADE IT WORSE! Seeing an even more terrible vision appeared before her.

~

Celestine: Wait I thought you said you'd-

Absolum: Oh but my child we did you said that planet was a goner anyway... they were already possessed.... it would be so wasteful if all those resources would fall to Nightmare...

Sir Uther: We cleared out the planet before Nightmare did. And killed all of those who were going to be infected & spread it throughout the galaxy... we prevented the problem before it even happened...*gives a wicked smile*

Absolum: Yes we couldn't have done it without you *gives a wicked smile*

Celestine couldn't help but blame herself for the downfall of Shiver Star... A few hours later Celestine's warpstar cracked-

"No problem... I think," Absolum

To remedy the situation, Absolum tried to fame concern for her but in reality was keeping her in the temple to hide that she was "broken." She could still tell fortunes just at random, they just had to keep her near the temple and store them whenever they came to her.

Absolum was still reeling at how could this happen... he didn't want to expose his little mistake. (In truth he knew he was working too hard and put her to work earlier than most, because of her ability... CHILD LABOR AM I RIGHT?!.) It was still too valuable, they can't risk having her break some more...

Thus, Celestine became a caged bird.

Uther felt that she was a failure unbecoming of a Hero of Yore and not deserving of her title. She can no longer do the ability properly and with her body always hurting how was she going to fight on the battlefield!

Along with that thought she be too emotional anyway... always trying to steer them to the future... the least amount of damage... HE WANTED PROGRESS! Often opting for the method that would get him results not caring about the collateral damage!

Icarus shares in Uther's sentiments, with the added notion that she got away with lazying around doing nothing. Just got to sit there waiting for the next prediction to come around. He & Uther were doing all the heavy lifting and she was still being treasured by Absolum... (he wasn't jealous of the attention or anything...)

Thus resulting in Icarus having the brilliant idea of sticking Celestine with all the political fairs (the paperwork). Which seemed like a good idea at the time (a decision they would all come to regret).

Unbeknownst to them... they had given Celestine all the diplomatic power in the galactic court. Managing to win over the galactic council with her charm and grace. Uther had always used his power to intimidate his ideals.

However, Celestine had a softer approach and was seen as far more likable in the... (this was before the council was corrupt and this was due to Celestine's influence...) Often resulting in the members to come to her for their problems. Uther couldn't beat her in this arena... being reminded all too well this was a political battle as well.

For Icarus, you see there was a... certain deal he wanted to part take in... a deal with Halacandra. Where did the GSA partner up with and believe that he could easily impress with his inventions... with their queen?! ( Minerva Mim - Magolor's great aunt)

What happened... the king was supposed to be here whys he spent an entire month sucking up to him who was this queen...

The queen was not impressed & ended up showing technology far greater than his... for the first time, Icarus was forced to eat humble pie... "How could this have, surely this is some sort of mistake shouldn't the king be here-"

"Oh he's dead... and unlike him, I'm not to be won over by pretty words and flattery now you offend me... why would I ever want to do business with a lowlife with you!"

Madam made sure to inform the GSA they would not be doing business with them & Absolum desperately wanted to get that deal. Then Celestine volunteered to remedy the situation & suggested inviting her here.

Absolum agrees seeing there is nothing to lose, Uther believes this was just a desperate attempt to try to be useful while Icarus is excitedly waiting for her to fail.

Meeting arrives Celestine takes care of everything personally and at the end of the day. Queen Minerva is all smiles and arrives with a contract, "Alright I've changed my mind, and I'll do the deal as long as I'm working with her."

Minerva wasn't interested in Icarus' inventions but Celestine's alchemic formulas were revolutionary. And just had to have her on their team.

Absolum was shocked and relieved... (maybe this girl had more than one use after all...) and was constantly praising her. And because of her connections with Minerva... she'll need a bodyguard now when she leaves the GSA base but what the why it was worth it.

And Icarus oh how badly he wanted to be part of the mixing pot, but he had to go through Celestine. Who was more than happy to reject his proposal and experiments. (Icarus never forgave her for this.)

She was becoming too influential now ... This resulted in Icarus scheming with Uther... to get rid of her.

Thus beginning the creations of the Ancients & the Halcandrans, with Celestine & Minerva leading the helm. Alongside Dairus Drosselmeyer (Minerva's right-hand man & Daroach's great uncle)... they created many of the legendary treasures... that were now scattered about the galaxy.

(These were kept secret from the GSA... Minerva knew the truth of the situation... for you see during the meeting she had hidden away Kirby's prediction not of him just defeating Nightmare, but the reawakening of Void Termina & Doomsday... and showed it to the Queen and she understood... that's the other reason why she said yes to her)

Minerva helps Celestine create the Kabu's across the galaxy and presents them as "safe houses for star warriors" but in reality, they were all preset guides to Kirby's prophecy.

And helped her create Triple Star... Thus the creating the vigilante Merlyn.... Her work as Merlyn didn't go unnoticed and the people of the galaxy started to recognize the hypocrisy of the GSA. Which made the Ancients & the other's blood boil.

This resulted in having Uther send in his send three of his best soldiers: Sir Nonsurat, Dame Morgan, and last but not least (you guessed it WART... I mean Sir Arthur.)

Kirby's prophecy spoke of "a match" to start the spark that would flame of a new era of peace...

Arthur- Match/ Meta Knight - Spark/Kirby - Flame

At the time she didn't know who it was; the prophecy was incredibly vague with which one it was. But she wasn't going to pass her knowledge to any of them without being sure. (She didn't want another Shiver Star incident to happen... not again...)

But know would she determine which one it would be... they all seemed the most unlikely candidates as "the match." How could she weed out which one... A TRAIL, A TEST, A GAME!

So like in tales of old, Celestine did these little tests of character... and would secretly tag along during missions. Giving them all a chance to see which one it would participate in... Giving them little riddles of the monster Nightmare would do. But she always gave them a choice... (bread crumbing) can't face anyone to change.

However, three of them all seem annoyed at this except for... Sir Arthur was the only one captivated and interested. It takes a while for Arthur to accept Merlyn's but only after the events of:

What Kind of King is in My Blood:

That makes him actively ask for Merlyn (Celestine to help him change) and pretty much becomes Celestine's partner in crime. And as to become a willing student... merely wishing not to become like his master (Sir Uther).

However, their little sparring match still happening, with the condition that he should win... Merlyn's not allowed to be called him Wart... (Needless to say she fought him twice as hard.)

(This post-Celestine is Merlyn:) It goes into more detail about their relationship here but... I added a few things.

Romantic feelings only start after that...

Basically, before they knew they were head-over-heals for each other their love could never be in reality. Not just because of their positions but something else...

After her warpstar broke... she received a terrible vision of her body eventually breaking and her disappearing into star dust. Foreseeing her early death...

She had initially accepted but after all the friends she made (and falling in love with Arthur) she did everything she could to stay longer for them... Celestine tried to keep herself together as long as she could, and managed to keep herself alive a little longer (than she was supposed to) but now she could feel it... she was running out of time.

How was she supposed to tell her everyone... Minerva would be devastated, who was going to help Darius (& Minerva) with his creations, who would protect her followers, and stop Uther & Icarus from making the galaxy into a wasteland...

And worst of all she'd leave Arthur all alone & heartbroken. Who's supposed to tease him now, make sure he doesn't do anything reckless, keep that ego in check, make sure he isn't a prat, to remind him to smile and enjoy life... to laugh... oh her poor little Wart...

No there must be another way...she couldn't tell any of her friends... she wasn't giving up yet... However, little did she know that was the least of her worries...

Celestine was always careful with hiding her connections with her alter-ego... and Arthur, but there was one person who did figure this out. Sir Nonsurat; after Arthur had saved "Merlyn" from his grasp he started to see a pattern.

Arthur had been an accomplice to Merlyn's along... "HOW DARE ARTHUR, I KNEW YOU NEVER DESERVED YOUR POSITION AND WITH THIS YOU WILL BE RUINED FOR SURE."

Thus, Celestine received numerous horrible visions (she got them all at once)... of Arthur being found guilty in a trial. And at the end of each, Arthur had refused to sell her out, remaining loyal to her, confessing his love for her, and dying. And then she saw her demise as well... her body finally breaking right after... poofing into stardust.

Being completely overwhelmed, she burst into tears. Desperately searching for a future where they could both live... (a future where she could be happy with him.) However, it was either that she & Arthur had escaped and her body would explode and Arthur would be captured (by the GSA) and executed right after for his desertion).

Celestine couldn't help but believe that she had destroyed Arthur's future all because she had gotten involved... (it was Shiver Star all over again.) Just like in the other futures... what could she possibly do...

Perhaps...she could solve one problem with another...

So, before the day Nonsurat was going to turn in his report of evidence... Celestine had stolen it away. And with the help of Darius, they manipulated the information to frame someone else...

Nonsurat was infuriated once he found his evidence to be stolen... But he didn't want to cause an uproar, so he demanded a completed search of every squadron. Under the pretext "there is a traitor among us, and they've stolen my documents..."

A complete search required every general to be accounted for. Nonsurat observed Arthur carefully only to find him especially giddy!?

Arthur: I do hope the search is finished soon... The sooner we finish here the sooner I can give Celestine this-

Kit Cosmo: Code red! Everyone needs to come to the Courtyard immediately! Were under attack!

Arthur: By who?!

Kit Cosmo: By... Lady Celestine...

~

(She had already known Icarus was trying to take her down... so using her Nonsurat's evidence, she had successfully framed herself... handing it in in the guise of one of Icarus' informants.)

With the information he had put together and received, Sir Icarus concocted a false trail that Celestine was leaking information and was secretly in cahoots... with Merlyn.

Since it was a trial that involved someone as high-ranking as her... she knew the trial would exclude a select few. And since she knew Nonsurat would warrant a search... she knew it would be the perfect thing to keep Arthur out of the trail.

Celestine: Well, if I am going to get locked away... I might as well make it worth the sentencing.

It was at this moment that Celestine unleashed her demonic owl (she had hidden away) and bit off his head Absolum; killing him instantly. (Madoka Magica style). Icarus tried to stop her but failed Celestine resulting in his wings being ripped off. And officially went on a rampage letting out all those years of unbridled rage & sorrow she had kept in.

Then she remembered quickly about Kirby's prediction... quickly she created her own army of Hydro Clones... to leave them all at bay.

She went into her lab and quarters and destroyed every piece of magical research and Alchemic formula. She wasn't going to let them benefit & use her research any longer and most importantly to keep Kirby's predictions... but one person who managed to get through the army... it was none other than Uther.

Uther: I always knew you were a little witch~

Celestine: That was a sham trial & you know it ... You forced my hand

Uther: You should; 've stayed in your place, someone weak as you, you are not worthy of your spot as a Hero of Yore-

Celestine: Well you are not worthy of your spot as leader! You never were and one day you'll fall you'll see *at that moment Celestine received another vision-*

At that moment Uther thought this was the perfect chance to lung at her but this backfired... he accidentally ended up seeing Celestine's vision too... And it visibly shook him to his core.

Being overwhelmed by the very visions that plague Celestine, (claiming before she was emotionally weak, was causing him to be paralyzed by fear...) It was a vision of his throne crumbling down& everything he built and it was being led by one astral... he couldn't make out the face... was... was it pink...

Celestine tried to pull away so he couldn't see the rest of the vision... and ended up striking his right eye to stop him... Uther was left frozen while Celestine could feel her body about to break and desperately made her escape... But as she stormed out...

Uther: Will make sure you're vision will not come to pass I will find that pink warrior if it's the last thing I do... And I'll- you'll die by my blade gah- *Still paralyzed because of the vision & couldn't get up

Celestine: Sorry Uther... but I'm afraid that honor won't go to you...*runs out to find Arthur* I've already selected my champion...

In the commotion, Arthur manages to find her, desperate he reaches, Celestine:

Arthur: We have to... you need to run-

Celestine: Graduation time Wart *sees a cast of other soldiers & on-looker watching* - Let's see what you're made of! Just treat it as one of our sparring matches and we'll be fine-

After all the losses in their sparing matches, Arthur finally manages to beat Celestine... "Well done, Arthur- you've finally done it, you've w-" * Visibly starts to break... and falls- and Arthur catches her

(Celestine pulls up a smokescreen so no one can see them... however, three people manage to sneak in)

Arthur: Celestine, what's happening to you-

Celestine: I've come to the end of my time- due to my condition my body was bound to break... I didn't mean to hide it... I really thought I could beat the odds... I'm sorry War- Oh I guess I can't call you Wart-

Arthur: NO! If that's the case you weren't in the best condition- *starts crying* I didn't really win-, you have to stay *sobs profusely* You have to stay and call me Wa-Wart!

Celestine: Figures *chuckles...* it takes you this long to finally admit you like the nickname ... Thank you Arthur you made my life short all the worthwhile... I hope you can forgive me

Arthur: There's nothing to forgive Cel- Celty, *cries* I love you, please there is always something... There's always, you told me that... You're the greatest mage in the galaxy... there's got to be...

Celestine: I surely hope that light of you doesn't get snuffed out *smiles warmly* it's going to be hard Wart but remember this...

Keep your eyes open and beware of the bad in the world... but also hold on to the good as well... you don't have to look, just know that it's there... it'll keep you from falling...

(the quote that Meta Knight said to Kirby originally came from Sir Arthur... that was told to me from Celestine...)

And even should you lose your way I know you'll find it again... you'll always be a worthy king to me. I love you too Arthur... and I always will.... (*they share one passionate kiss*)

It was an Arthur had so longed for, but it was lace with so much sorrow and joy all at the same time....

Arthur: I don't wanna let you go-* Gets knocked out by Minerva...

She had informed Minerva before the trial (and of course was devastated but was willing to fulfill her last request). And who stood behind her were Darius & Kit the only three witnesses to what really happened. Kit realizes that Celestine is Merlyn... She then handed off and knocked out Arthur to Darius & Kit Cosmo.

And made sure they promised to paint Arthur as the hero who defeated her. And fled the scene and Minerva went to her best friend and hugged her one last time... and fled with the others.

When they had all left to safety... she lifted the smoke screen only to see a hoard of Ancients led by Uther try to arrest her. She flew into the air Celestine had her Gravity wicked moment... as her body finally was about to shatter into pieces.

Celestine: I curse you all, *putting one final spell cursing the Ancients* (basically she's the reason why they all disappeared)

As her body started to implode they mistook it to be a suicide bombing and she was planning to take them all down with her... thinking quick the Ancients Crystalized to prevent the explosion...

But in that moment she has one final vision of Arthur taking the seat as leader of the GSA. She smiles and says "I always you could do it Wart *starts cry* It's just too bad I'll never be able to see it in person".

Arthur woke up in the hospital wing hearing... Darius & Kit recount the story of the incident. With the way Kit & Darius spun it was Arthur who saved the day... (Arthur realized this was all part of Celestine's plan: to give him a title that would protect him even when she was gone...) Arthur * began to weep* with Kit trying to comfort him the best he could...

Making Arthur (to the Ancients) irreplaceable... being able to take down a Hero of Yore when they (Icarus & Uther) could not. Being extremely grateful (and needing a new holy figure), gave him the title of "Holy Knight," and said they owed him one favor...

(So basically he got credit for defeating the love of his life & took her place as the GSA's holy figure...)

So in summary:

Before being detained, she managed to rip off Icarus' wings, blind Uther in his right eye, and kill about 500 Ancients. She was trying to escape only to be stopped by Sir Arthur, who defeated her in battle. But tried to escape only to be cornered by the remaining soldiers... and seeing she had nowhere else to run...

Despite the efforts of the Ancients to paint her as wicked, people could not believe in the shame of a trial. Especially Minerva, when she heard this false slander on her best friend (she had enough of it)... she declared Halcandra's formal separation from the GSA. Cutting them from Halcandra's advanced technology caused an even bigger scandal. And had put her down to silence her as well... removing her...

(What happened to Darius... well that's a story for later)

Ruining their reputation even further... destroying the pristine image they had built up until now. And those who were at the trail were split in the middle... On one hand, it seemed like she had gone on a rampage because of her unfair judgment and merely reacted because she was pushed into the corner. On the other hand, she had always been hiding away her true nature & hatred for all of them, and once she had been found out... she unleashed all of it.

Were both true...

As a result, the Ancients tried to erase her from existence... from the galaxy, with only the remaining Ancients & the Heroes of Yore remembering her... Celestine had become forgotten.` Basically, she was described as (by the Ancients) the unspeakable third who tried to destroy them all & maliciously take them down with her. And she had to be erased...

However, this did not remedy the situation... Uther was still haunted by Celestine's vision he must hunt down the pink warrior... he will not have his reign end. Icarus was all too happy to take over the Halcandra projects... however, was always constantly reminded of being reduced to flightless astral and still hates her to this day.

While everyone had forgotten Celestine: they all remembered Merlyn. But even though, "Merlyn" had become a legend, many doubted the actual existence... of this supernatural being.

However, there was one person who managed to remember her... and that's where her story ends...

Or maybe not...

Her crystallization saved her preventing her from exploding... So she was still alive in there. They tried to hide her crystal in a cave and seal it off so no one would find her... Little did they know that the cave held one of the dark portals of Morpho accidentally ending up in the underworld...

And guess who ends up accidentally winds up there.

BTW they got married in the Underworld

I actually planned this out to be a tragedy, but I ended up making them have a happy ending... (that I can't reveal just yet how it happens in the story)

BUT BEST BELIEVE OUR GIRL GETS EVERYTHING SHE DESERVES AND SITS ON THE THRONE WITH HER KING WHERE SHE BELONGS!

And if you read this long thank you for reading! <3

#kirby #kbasw #lady celestine #kirby oc tournament #sir arthur kirby #kirby oc #kirbyoctournament #sorry for taking so long #home I'm not too late #celarthur #merthur

[correctproseka]

random but i need to tell someone:

in Ans gekokujou card im pretty sure thats nagi behind him i was simping really hard yesterday and noticed that the designs dont mirror like i had originally thought. i thought the picture was An standing with his back to the younger version of himself, like the version who was still unhurt by this (like its such a huge betrayal of trust and ive heard other players mention how before this event An treated everyone on vivid street like family calling everyone by some sort of familial term but after this event that stops) as the current version of An pushes forward, wounded yes but with her head held high. but having the person behind him actually be nagi is so much more heartbreaking and meaningful because An has to literally put the memory of someone who meant so much to him and inspired him so much to rest, nagi will always be a fixture of Ans past she cant come into the present with him she can no longer guide An towards his future and his dreams, at least not in the same way

Yeah that is Nagi!! If you look closely, the outfit kind of resembles a hospital gown.

The Machi/City event shows how much An appreciates Nagi and the street for being family.

Then we have Gekokujou, where An learns the truth, she's hurt and angry at everyone, including at people who have always been with her, for not telling her before.

Even if An knows Nagi was right, she would've given up on music if she knew about it before Kohane.

After that bombshell, what we have related to that is:

On the fes, where An is singing alongside a Nagi figure, An gave up in trying to run after Nagi, An could never reach her after all, she's not there. But at least they could sing together, so An could smile.

And then its this event, where An yells this:

I truly love her arc over the city and Nagi, she has reached acceptance. Maybe a part of her wont ever truly forgive her dad and the city, or even Nagi, but she has decided to forget about that, they did all they could, and now it's up to her to make sure she follows what Nagi has trained her to do.

#AN MAKES ME SICK #sorry anon i tried to not use pronouns but thej changed to she/her #to make everyone understand the ramble better #project sekai #ask #anon #an shiraishi

[aziraphales-library]

Hello beautiful librarians! Thank you for keeping me sorted with fic to fill the long gap between now and series three. (As I'm writing this S3 hasn't been commissioned yet but who knows, maybe by the time you post it will be?!)

Anyway, I'm looking for some recs for spicy fic, Aziraphale/Crowley pairing, where one of them is wearing lingerie / stockings and the other is taking their time to appreciate it fully before ravishing them. Any gender presentation, any "downstairs effort", as part of a larger fic or just a smaller delicious scene. Anything is welcome! I just saw some lingerie type fanart and I need moooore! Big thanks in advance!

Hi! We have a #lingerie tag. Here are some more fics to add...

The Way That You Hold Me by AngieWords (E)

"Have you ever had any thoughts about my other...forms?" Crowley is interested to find out how Aziraphale will react to exploring a different corporation together. Aziraphale is very interested indeed. Or: Crowley gets nostalgic for his femme-presenting days

Underdrawing by spunknbite (E)

Lace. Just a hint of it: white, peeping out from under the waistband of Aziraphale’s trousers. A finely woven pattern of sprigs of roses and briony linked together with intricate diamond thread work. There was something vaguely Victorian about it, suggesting a handcrafted wedding veil or perhaps the contents of a hope chest. The lattice clung tightly to the pale skin beneath it, pearly lace on pearly skin, creating an almost tattoo-like appearance as if the design was threaded onto his very flesh in only a shade lighter than his own tone. Well, fuck.

Pin An Angel Up by Dibs_Drabbles (E)

Aziraphale was a lingerie model for a newlyweds' magazine, under the guise of Miss Azra Fell. Despite her short-term career, Miss Fell was granted her own special edition magazine, featuring her and only her. The angel had kept it hidden in plain view, quite oblivious to the chance of a certain demon stumbling upon it. And that certain demon was very much thrilled with what he found. - Aziraphale modelled for a lingerie magazine back in 1950, Crowley finds them and thus uncovers a whole arsenal of kinks to explore for the two of them.

Spread Your Wings by foolishlovers (E)

In the glamorous world of high fashion, Crowley shines as a household name. Unfortunately, so does supermodel Aziraphale, who repeatedly lands bookings for the same jobs. When a photoshoot mishap traps them in a studio overnight, their simmering animosity escalates to its peak. Literally.

Tryst at the Ritz by almaasi (E)

Aziraphale nodded, and said, sweetly, “After dinner, Crowley, you and I, we’re going up to a private, luxury suite, and we’re going to make love.” Crowley blasted red wine across the table in a fine spray. (A fic in which Crowley and Aziraphale get a wiggle on, in the Biblical sense.)

Dangerous like Spun Sugar by Nejinee (E)

Crowley really wasn't prepared for any of this. She was a demon of hell, a fallen angel, and also - evidently - a fucking idiot. -- Or, how Crowley had never cared about the inherent sexiness of lingerie until Aziraphale started talking about her own lingerie.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #ineffable partners #adult omens #lingerie #mod d

[climbthemountain2020]

Solstice Gifts

Baby's first Feysand! | Ao3

[Feyre loves buying Solstice gifts for her family, but this year she might have been outdone.]

Eternal thank yous and forehead kisses to @tunaababee @cauldronblssd and @witch-and-her-witcher for just being the most wonderful humans and beta reading and encouraging me to post this.

Solstice in Velaris was the most lovely time of year, and no matter how much time Feyre spent here, she doubted she’d ever grow tired of it.

The snowy streets were covered in faelights, all twisted into beautiful shapes and hanging from the signs and light posts. There were long strings of them criss-crossing over The Rainbow and casting all the snow and shops in an ethereal glow. Complex smells of cinnamon, clove, freshly baked breads, rosemary, and mulled ciders cascaded from the storefronts, their windows decked in boughs of holly and fir and their doors hung with mistletoe.

Feyre was hurrying back to the River House, late as usual, with the last of her gifts.

She’d been mostly organized this year, but Nesta’s gift had ended up taking longer than expected, and of course today was the first time she’d been able to sneak off to grab the little Illyrian leathers with space for wings that would fit an almost-four year old.

She’d gone a little overboard on gifts this year, but it was hard to not spoil those she loved now that she had the means. Old habits die hard, and she too-vividly remembered the years that she and her sisters had stoically ignored the Solstice happening at all, not even a candle lit in the windows to be spared. So now, when things had changed so vastly in the last seven years, she would fully use every bit of means at her disposal to shower everyone with gifts they would love.

Nyx was six now, somehow, the years flying by in a rush that she tried and failed to stop like grabbing whitewater in her hands. Rhysand reassured her constantly, a laugh on his lips, that though time was flying, they still had centuries together, and there was no need to beg for more. Another thing she had trouble letting go of in her immortality–the idea that things were good now, and there was no time limit on it. Things could be happy and productive and peaceful like this for centuries more. But Feyre still had trouble allowing hope for good things to bloom in her heart, despite feeling beyond blessed in all ways.

She shuffled the bags in her arms–she’d had to stop for some last-minute pastries, too. What good was a solstice birthday if she couldn’t eat whatever she wanted? The smells on the way to the leather-smith had been too good to resist, and she was crazed for the pistachio croissants with the bergamot filling that the bakery beside Rita’s had this time of year.

She quietly snuck the front door open, hoping to slip in quietly and unnoticed by her houseguests. Mor, draped in her normal gorgeous finery, strode through the foyer, lifting a brow that surely must be genetic, and before tipping her head back to laugh at Feyre.

“You’re just as bad as Rhys, you know? I saw him coming back not twenty minutes ago.”

Rhys, that weasel.

Feyre wondered what he’d been off plundering after amusedly lecturing her this morning about sneaking out last minute for more presents. She ran the bags upstairs, ditched her coat, and wrapped the leathers quickly in the celebratory packaging she’d picked up last month in their guest bedroom before scurrying back down the stairs. She’d arrived just in time, everyone present in the sitting room as Nuala and Cerridwen announced the dinner was ready. Luckily, she’d had the foresight to prepare before going to grab the gifts, her long midnight-blue dress swaying luxuriously around her feet, the gossamer sleeves like a soft embrace along her arms. She’d definitely gotten used to wearing pretty clothes in the time she’d spent in Velaris, though most days, she still dressed for comfort. She’d left her hair down and lightly curled, compulsively tucking a strand behind her ear as she entered the dining room. Elain had helped prepare the Solstice meal and cake, as she insisted she do every year, and Feyre had to admit it all looked mouthwatering, as always.

Rhys pulled her seat out for her as she walked up, pressing a quick kiss to the side of her head as he pushed her in.

“Last minute shopping go well?” He murmured against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine and goosebumps down her arms. He knew it, too, and she turned to scrunch her nose at him as he laughed.

“I hear you’re one to talk, hypocrite.” He held his hand to his chest feigning offense, then sent her an absolutely world-shattering smile as he moved to take his place.

A crash in the hall sent Feyre’s eyes to the doors, followed by Nesta’s bellowing.

“Hey! Wings closed indoors! You know the rules.” Giggles abound as Nyx and Aife came into the room, leaning into each other and cackling as they took their seats. They were only two years apart and thick as thieves. Though Nesta and Feyre would never admit it aloud, seeing their children close as they’d never had the opportunity to be as children had healed something between the two of them that had once felt depthless.

Nyx pushed midnight-black hair from his eyes as he looked to Feyre.

“Mom, can we go play with our presents after we open them tonight? I promise I’ll go straight to bed after.”

“I don’t see why not. Nesta, are you all staying the night tonight?” Nesta looked to Cassian and nodded.

“I think so. Aife and Nyx are going to be here all day tomorrow anyway during the snowball fight. We might as well.” She gave a pointed look to Cassian, who grinned wolfishly. Feyre could hear Aife whispering to Nyx.

“Who’s going to win this year?”

“Uncle Az. It’s always Uncle Az. He says our dads are old now.” They both giggled and Feyre cracked a smile, shooting the conversation down the bond to Rhys, whose eyebrows lifted as he shot her an amused smile as if to say we’ll see.

They tucked into the great feast, a large roast the centerpiece, surrounded by offerings of ham and turkey and too many sides to reasonably name. Feyre loaded her plate with the most buttery mashed potatoes she’d ever tasted, one of Elain’s specialities that Feyre always requested for special occasions, as well as a basil and tomato tart, baked to crisp perfection by Nuala.

She remembered a time when she’d hated her birthday, and while she still wasn’t entirely comfortable with all the attention, she surely would celebrate now if only for the delicious foods she got to have. She couldn’t beat the company either, her blood and chosen family all seated around the table, laughing and loving and enjoying themselves in her home. A decade ago, she would have laughed in the face of anyone who’d tried to describe this possibility, and it wasn’t lost on her how much luck and fate had stepped in to make things as they were.

++

Stuffed to the brim and with the gift exchange behind them, Feyre slumped onto the couch. The kids had been spoiled beyond reason, the piles of gifts higher than the chairs surrounding them.

Nyx and Aife had begged Az, Cass, and Lucien to bring them outside to practice with the new bow and arrow sets, courtesy of Elain and Lucien’s recent trip to the Day Court. As the official “Uncle Troupe”, as they’d so ridiculously named themselves, they felt it would have been in poor taste to decline. Feyre pulled her feet up onto the couch and laid her head back. It had been a busy few months, though things were finally, blessedly beginning to smooth out. They’d been able to delegate a bit more recently, and it certainly helped their workload.

Elain had gone back to the kitchens to help clean up and exchange gifts with the twins before they took off for the evening, leaving Feyre to relax for a bit while Nesta, Gwyn, Emerie, and Mor sat at the table with sweets and coffees chatting. Amren and Varian had skipped the party this year in favor of a trip to Summer, as they now alternated holidays between courts. While she’d never taunt Amren to her face about it, Feyre secretly loved how domesticated she’d become in the time she’d known her, settling down while still claiming that ancient power hummed through her veins.

She felt Rhys sit down by her feet, his presence always noted by her magic immediately twining with his. At any given time, she could feel where he was, the power soaring back and forth between them like a current. The depth of love between them was fathomless and deep, and she’d never quite get over the fact that she had him all to herself, hers and hers alone, for the rest of her life.

He picked her feet up in his hands, shuffling them over to his lap and giving them a squeeze.

“Tired, darling?” His voice was a low rumble as he leaned against the back of the couch, settling in.

“Exhausted. I love the holidays, but I would also love a solid two days of sleep.” He laughed, his smile lighting up the room as she lifted her head to peek at him. “Did you enjoy your Solstice gifts?”

She’d bought him a device she’d found at one of the shops in Day Court on a summer visit to Elain and Lucien months ago. Duty had them back and forth between courts now, and Feyre couldn’t deny the love she had for any excuse to get to the shimmering beaches of Day. She’d found it nestled in the back of a tinkerer’s store–a handheld device that rolled over clothes, enchanted to remain sticky, and pulled any lint or fuzz from them.

“It’s only my favorite thing I’ve ever owned,” Rhys quipped immediately. She laughed, closing her eyes again and poking him in the side with her toe. He gripped it in his hands and threatened to tickle her. “How about you, love? Get everything you wanted?” Feyre paused, but didn’t open her eyes. She should say yes. She should feel like she had everything she wanted, but there was just one thing missing, and unfortunately it was something she couldn’t have.

“Hey lovebirds, we’re heading out!” Mor called across the room, her arm around Emerie’s.

Feyre sat up to say goodbye. “So early?”

Mor chuckled and Emerie elbowed her in the ribs. “Solstice plans of our own,” Mor said, waggling her brows at Rhys and giggling as he rubbed his eyes and gave a long-suffering sigh.

“Alright, then.” He slapped his palms on his thighs, laughing and ending the conversation as Emerie blushed about ten shades of red, still not quite used to the way this family spoke so openly about things. Feyre stood to hug them both.

“We’re so glad you came. Feel free to drop in any time tomorrow. We’ll be here all day.”

Gwyn and Nesta had gone to join their mates and the children out on the illuminated training ring in the yard, leaving Feyre to slip back down onto the couch, this time scooting closer to Rhys and leaning her body against his. He was always so warm and solid, her touchstone in times both trying and lovely. He always smelled like oranges and the sea–the smell of Velaris, of home, tied intrinsically with his. She nuzzled closer, his arm finding its way around her waist as he settled too.

“Everything okay, darling?”

She hummed noncommittally. She hated that even with all this joy, all these gifts, all this family, she still couldn't shake the thought that something was missing, incomplete.

“Can you believe this is Nyx’s sixth Solstice?” She felt Rhys soften beneath her, realization creeping down the bond from his end, followed by a burst of soothing love and affection.

“He's incredible, isn't he? What are we going to do when he learns how to use that bow accurately?” She laughed.

“Truly, it's the inaccurate use I'm more worried about.” His breath ghosted her ear as he chuckled, sending those light shivers scurrying back along her spine.

Things got quiet, then. She knew it would take very little for Rhys to understand what she was thinking, if he didn't already intrinsically know. Even without the bond, even without the daemati powers, there was really a moment he wasn't able to read her like a wide open book.

“He's so big now…” she let her voice drift off, trying to hide the hurt in it and failing miserably. As always Rhys filled in the gaps.

“He’s wonderful. We made a really wonderful child, Feyre. He’s everything I never even dared to hope for for myself. I never thought such joy was possible for someone like me. You know that he’s the greatest gift you ever could have given me, right?” She felt the tears burning behind her eyes, and she took in a deep breath as she felt him press a kiss to her temple.

“I know.” Her voice was just a wobbly whisper, quiet in the room.

“And if he’s the only one we ever have, it’s more than enough for me. I need to know you know that, Feyre.” She nodded furiously, the big tears slipping down her cheeks now, burning hot tracks as they descended.

“I can’t even explain it. It just feels like someone else should be here.” He pulled her tightly against him, resting his chin on her shoulder and rubbing his hands up and down her arms.

“And maybe, someday, they will be. But if the three of us are all we ever have, it’s more than enough. It’s everything to me.” She couldn’t hold back the sobs then, turning to bury her face in his chest as she cried.

It had been two years since they’d decided things had evened out enough that another child was even an option for them. They’d been casual about it at first, enjoying themselves and giggling in the dark under covers as they talked about the possibilities of the future. She missed Nyx’s tufts of baby curls, that new infant smell that seemed to cling to him always then faded abruptly away after he hit one year. She missed the snuggles and the closeness, and her heart ached to watch how wonderful he was with his cousin without knowing if she’d ever be able to give him that gift as a big brother.

Realistically, she knew all the logic. It could take fae decades to have a child. It wasn’t always going to be as quick as it had been with Nyx. He’d come quickly, but the consequences, as everyone remembered, had been disastrous and near-fatal. She’d never even considered the possibility of it being a problem again when Nesta informed her she’d changed their anatomy, but she’d never considered that she might be the one having the problem. Part of her wondered if the absolute massacre of her body bringing Nyx into the world was responsible–her tissue mangled and her blood spilt and her spirit eking into the ether, only to be yanked back and mended together at the last possible second. Could it have damaged her irreparably, the anatomy be damned?

“Nothing is your fault, love. Not one bit of it.” He held her to his chest as her cries subsided. “And it’s okay to be upset about this. You don’t have to hold everything in all the time. There are no prizes for stoicism.” She snorted at him, and he huffed amusedly at her.

“Pot, meet kettle,” she shot back wetly. He smiled softly as she sat back to look at him, a little of the life returning to her as well.

“You’re a lovely mother, and our boy thinks you’ve hung the stars and moon above Velaris, even if he is getting old enough to wield a weapon. A little sibling won’t ever change that. Plus, I get the impression Aife isn’t going to be his only cousin.” She sighed, nodding, as he wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“It’s just hard not to feel like I’ve done something wrong. I know how badly you want another, how badly I do. It’s hard not to wonder.” He took his hands in hers.

“I meant it when I told you that you and Nyx, you are the gifts. Our family is absolutely lovely the way it is now. If we’re meant to grow it one day, we will, and if we aren’t, believe me when I tell you I am absolutely over the moon for the way things are now.” She couldn’t help but kiss him then, the stars reflecting in his violet eyes taking her breath away, as they always did. “Plus, I never mind practicing with you.” She smacked him across the chest as he grinned broadly and wickedly at her, hauling her into his lap in response as she yelped.

If anything, Rhys knew how to chase away her tears better than anyone else ever had or would.

Just then, the parlor doors opened and Elain stepped through.

“Oh, just the two I was looking for! I’ve got one last gift for you both, but I wanted to wait until the right moment.” She ducked back through the doors momentarily, reappearing with a small, neatly wrapped parcel as they stood. She flounced lightly up to them, setting the little bundle wrapped in delicate yellow paper in Rhys’s hands.

“Elain, you didn’t need to get us anything else. You already gave us such lovely gifts and you made dinner.” Elain blushed, still the demure lady after all this time.

“Consider it a double gift.” She whispered as she leaned in conspiratorially. Rhys pulled back the paper and pulled out the tiniest, knitted pink blanket.

One beat, two. The silence hung in the room as Elain smiled wide.

“I just saw last week, but I wanted to make you something to let you know in a way that was special.”

Feyre’s hands shot to her stomach, and Rhys began to cry, turning to her and holding her close while still looking at Elain.

“Now?” Feyre asked, incredulously.

“Probably only about a month along.” Elain smiled again. “I knew with the wings and everything last time, you’d want to get in to see Madja as early as possible.”

Feyre was sobbing into Rhys’s chest again, his tears dripping down into her hair. Feyre felt him reach out to Elain and pull her into the embrace.

“Thank you, Elain. Thank you so much.” She pulled back, laughing lightly again.

“I’ll leave you both to it then. I gotta get little lady’s cousin and uncle home safely.” She put a hand to her own stomach, winked, and went towards the back to grab Lucien before Feyre and Rhys could even register her news. He grabbed her face in his hands, pressing kisses to every inch of her face.

“I love you, more than anything.” Feyre laughed, the sound breathless and airy. She couldn’t take her hands off her stomach, the joy pulsing through her veins with every beat of her heart.

A daughter.

“I have one more gift for you, too, actually.” He reached into his back pocket to withdraw a small, navy velvet box, pressing it gently into her hands.

Her eyes shot to his. “You didn’t need to get me something else.”

“Open it.” His smile was wide open, his entire heart spelled across his face like stars across the night sky.

Feyre cracked open the box and couldn’t help the flood of tears that began anew. Nestled in the soft velvet was a silver necklace, a charm of a large crescent moon with two small stars dangling down off of it.

“You knew?”

“I suspected.” He smiled. “You’ve been getting those pistachio pastries all week that you liked so much last time. I figured it couldn’t hurt to be prepared with one more last minute gift.” She took it out, turning to let him put it on her. He let his hands graze across her neck as he dropped them while she turned in his arms.

“Beautiful.” He murmured, brushing her hair behind her ear.

“Thank you, Rhys. I love it. It’s been the best Solstice ever.” Her smile was broad and teary, but she felt the joy all the way down to the very fibers of her immortal heart.

“Thank you, Feyre. For all of it.”

And nothing in all of Velaris could hold a candle to the joy radiating back and forth down the bond between them in that moment as their lips met quietly again this Solstice.

#feysand #feysand fic #actoar #solstice gifts #rhys x feyre archeron #fever-induced writing #tooth rottingly sweet fluff

[flightfoot]

Any feligami fic recommendations?

Felix is Fine by SortaArtsy

Felix wakes up sick, but is determined to keep it under wraps. Kagami refuses to be fooled. Feligami fluff. Implied past trauma/ abuse, though nothing explicit. Set post S5 so there are SOME SPOILERS!

If you want a Felix sick fic, this story’s the fic for you! I like how Felix and Kagami actually talk about why Felix is so determined to keep the extent of his illness hidden, what caused him to feel like he needs to do that, and Kagami’s understanding about it. Colt sucks.

---

to assess the equation of you by ThisKwamiNeeds-aNap

“I’m not a wanted fugitive,” she said, dryly. “You could change that.” She wasn’t sure if he was joking. Wasn’t sure if she wanted him to be joking. She stared for a long second, as if she could read more into his intent in the pupils of his eyes. They stayed there for a long second, unblinking. OR: Félix and Kagami try to talk about that after credits scene in Pretension

---

the awful felix saga by chivalrousamour

It should be noted that Félix was not exactly the most normal of people. He was idolized by others and popular, yet never had many friends. His social skills mostly amounted to knowledge of how to smile and speak politely enough that people let their guard down around him. As a result of his tendency to ignore or hate most people, he only had the few loved ones, and he'd commit murder for them. Like literally commit murder for them. Several murders, even. He did not have good knowledge of boundaries or restraint. So it should really say something that Félix, of all people, looked at Adrien's phone, and immediately said "oh, what's wrong with this guy." Because, like, dude. Why did Adrien have so many pictures of a girl he wasn't even dating? Even Félix knew that cropping group pics to be just the two of them was a weird thing to do.

So this is part of a series. I put that series on my top ten completed fics of 2023 list. I think you can mostly understand what's going on here without reading the other fics in the series, but I highly recommend you do read them, because they're hilarious! But this fic should at least give a taste of the tone of the rest of the series and give an idea whether you'd like to read the rest.

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The Peacock and the Dragon by TheVioletThread

kagami reflects on love, past and present, lost and won. felix destroys everything he has ever loved.

This is a three-chapter story, with the chapters being mostly independent, rather than naturally leading into each other.

The first chapter is from Kagami's POV, delving into the mindset she's grown up with due to Tomoe's parenting.

The second chapter, on the other hand, is from Felix's POV and mostly follows his horrific backstory, the abuse he suffered at Colt's hands, and his mindset even after Colt died.

The third chapter goes over Amelie's life, how she thinks of being the one left behind to deal with her parents' expectations, how she does, in fact, abide by them, basically being sold away to the highest bidder, and the despair as she's unable to do what she was "purchased" to do: provide an heir to Colt.

There's some beautiful prose here and exploration for Felix, Kagami, and Amelie, I highly recommend giving it a look!

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one does not love breathing by @wackus-bonkus-maximus

All of Paris watched as Hawkmoth murdered Chat Noir, taking the Black Cat Miraculous for himself. Ladybug swears revenge, but her enemy—and every miraculous in his possession—disappear without a trace.

Six years later, a new team of villains launches an attack for the last remaining Miraculous: Volpina, armed with new powers; Queen Bee, with questionable loyalty; Argos, the new holder of the Peacock Miraculous; and Cat Walker, who Ladybug hates the most.

Takes place after S4 - Strike Back.

So this is mostly a Lovesquare fic, but there's lots of different perspectives here, including Felix's and Kagami's. They may not be the main couple, but they still have more focus and development here than you're likely to find in most other fics.

Which is especially impressive since Feligami was one of the major pairings in this fic even BEFORE the Miraculous season 5 bible got leaked. Wackus was clairvoyant on that front.

#ask #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic rec #felix fathom #kagami tsurugi #feligami