#[ sing o muse! the story of... ]

[kingsbride-a]

Dance of Our Nature (1/2)

Summary: Theseus, former King of Athens, brings Asterius to the blessed fields. While there, he meets someone very dear to the king. Notes: Originally a fic about Theseus n Asterius I scrapped due to it feeling too aimless </3 I took my favourite chapter and reworked it so I could put Dianthus in it too :~) I didn't do any major edits cuz I'm kind of tired of working on this so be nice.... There's some background info established in the sort of "prequel" fic to this, but I'm not sure if I want to link it here... but it shouldn't too hard to understand without that context. ~2878 words. Contains Theseus fishing for compliments and being generally so cringe and fail, awkward first interactions, fruit eating, and Asterius trying to remember that he's just as much as a man as he is a bull. No particular warnings as far as I can think, but Theseus and Asterius do have a little bit of an unbalanced dynamic so early on into their relationship. They'll work on it as time goes on, of course! 🎵: Cicada | Here We Are!

Theseus was not what the Minotaur would have expected a king to be like. Some of the traits he remembered from his short time spent on the surface were there: Theseus was imposing when he wanted to be, his voice could fill a room, and despite his small height the way he presented himself made him seem almost god-like in stature. He was the king who unified Athens, famed for being fair and honorable even to those who too had been cursed by gods. Such nobility could only be afforded to one such as himself, who was scholar, leader, and warrior alike. 

Despite all this, Asterius realized that Theseus was still only human. And because he was only human, Theseus was also clumsy, teetering on the side of accident prone: several times now he had managed to fall over nothing, or nearly trip (again!)  into one of the underworld’s many river branches, or even get distracted by his own dramatic speeches and end up walking face first into a pillar. (Theseus attempted with great gusto to pretend that he intentionally smashed his face in, so that the bull may watch as he seductively wiped away the blood from his injury.  Unfortunately for the king he was wincing in pain all the while, and instead looked more silly than anything else.) Asterius also noticed how Theseus struggled to focus on anything other than what interested him at the moment. What interested him right now was Asterius himself, and seemingly only that, for each time the bull spoke in an attempt to direct Theseus’ attention elsewhere it took the king some time to even realize that something had been said, and even then his reply would be short and distracted.  Immediately after he finished talking he would return to simply gazing at Asterius’ face with some unidentifiable emotion, or stroking his large biceps with a curious hand. When he did wish to talk, however, Theseus could easily hold entire conversations by himself. It was charming in its own way, and only slightly grating. “...And that is why I despise my cousin Menetheus!” Theseus finished his story with a grand gesture, exasperation clear in his voice. Asterius paid close attention, half out of genuine curiosity, and half out of having nothing better to do. “Such an insufferable cur was undeserving of the title of king! Don’t you agree, Dear Asterius?”

Asterius nodded in response. He'd not spoken much during the duration of this journey— he wasn't quite sure what to say in this strange situation he'd somehow ended up in, and the king already spoke so much on his own. It felt almost unnecessary to make any further additions…

Still, Theseus gave him an almost expectant look just now, as if he were waiting for input. 

"You were… much better suited for the role than he." said Asterius with uncertainty. He did not have much experience with complimenting people, and that was clearly what Theseus’ sought.  “You were Athens’ greatest king, certainly.”

Despite his stunted words, Theseus still beamed brightly with a smile, and gave Asterius’ hand a tight squeeze. “How kind of you to say, my friend! And I must say I agree! There is none other than myself who is more suited for the role of— ah, hold a moment. I believe we have reached our destination! And here I’d been expecting more of a challenge in reaching our shared goal! Bah!” “Yes,” Asterius agreed, neglecting to bring up how the many ways Theseus accidentally hurt himself during their journey together were certainly a challenge in their own right. Together they stood before a large gate, its metal slightly browned with age. Asterius could swear there was something massive swimming beneath the water nearby, but Theseus seemed not to be concerned by it, and so Asterius would choose to ignore it as well. When met with Theseus’ touch, the gate lifted with a groan, allowing them both to enter a small rest area. Asterius took a moment to brush ash out of his fur; how strange that, despite Asphodel being a land of clear waters and ordinary scruffy grass, embers floated in the air. Once he’d finished, he found Theseus waiting at the other end of the corridor, waiting patiently to be rejoined by his companion. (Or rather, as patiently as he was capable of. While he made no push to rush Asterius, his casually leaning against the door did not make the tapping of his foot go unnoticed.) “Are you ready, Asterius? Here is where your new life shall begin! You shall finally have a chance to live as a prince should! Aha, such a thing must be nerve-wracking for you. But fear not, my friend! I shall support you every step of the way!” Asterius snorted in response; he was beginning to realize Theseus had a habit of announcing his own emotions, but would never attribute them to himself. The king was surely nervous, but it was much easier to say that Asterius was the nervous one. But the bull saw no reason to complain about such a thing, and thus did not mention it. He wouldn’t have had time to regardless, not with Theseus opening the final gate, and the blessed fields being within reach.

"Here we are!” To Asterius’ surprise, the gate opened to a small copse of trees.  Theseus stepped out first, fallen leaves crunching beneath his feet. “There is someone here expecting us! Let us not keep her waiting for longer than we already have, yes?”

Asterius in turn poked his head out… The breeze was the first thing he noticed, cool and refreshing, gentle against his fur. Then, the scent… fresh and green, but also slightly sweet, like fruit being carried on the wind. He felt nearly enticed to follow the direction of it. 

He stepped out behind Theseus, and was nearly startled at the sound of twigs and dried leaves being crushed beneath his weight. The sound was foreign to him… could he be blamed if he wanted to kick his legs against the ground, and see what other interesting noises could be made?

Soon, Asterius allowed the strange king to gently guide him forward. It took both of Theseus' hands to be able to fully wrap around one of the bull's wrists… it was strange realizing that the man who stood so large within his memory was so small in reality. It was strange to be continuing on in silence, but Asterius was certain that even if Theseus had spoken, he would not have heard him. The new sights and sounds around him were too much of a distraction, nearly to the point of making him dizzy. “Now, where could she be… ah!” Across the distant fields, Asterius could just barely make out a woman decked out in bright pink, sitting upon a marble bench beneath a flower-covered trellis. She seemed to notice them first, and stood. Upon seeing this, Theseus released Asterius’ hand, and bounded down to meet with her. “Ah, my lady! How I’ve missed you!” (At this distance it should have been difficult to make out the king’s words. But Asterius’ hearing was very good, and Theseus himself was very, very loud.) “I told you I would return, did I not? Let this be a lesson to you, my lady, that I am a man of my words!” Asterius watched as Theseus lifted the girl into his arms with ease, and she erupted into warm laughter in response. He kissed against her jaw once, then again, then against her cheek, and soon the girl’s laughter turned to squealing. Asterius’ chest felt tight at their affection— he didn’t know why. “Asterius, dear bull!” Though reluctant, he returned the girl to her feet, but not before giving her a final kiss upon her forehead.  “I would like you to meet Lady Dianthus of Oenoe, my… erm. Ahem. A-anyways! It was with her help that I was able to bring you here to the blessed fields. You must be curious as to how that happened, hmm? Allow me to start from the beginning! Some great many years ago, I…” “Theseus, I don’t imagine your bull-friend would want to hear about that right now! He’s probably tired, and you should be too! Besides, I didn’t do anything that impressive…” the girl waved her hand dismissively, causing Theseus to gasp rather dramatically. “Ah, my lady is far too modest! To reason with the gods themselves is impressive indeed.” Theseus squeezed the girl's hand. For a moment, his typical cocky expression faded into something warm and soft. He brought her hand up to his lips, for a kiss. “And you have done both Asterius, and myself, a great kindness.” The girl pouted in an almost childish fashion, though her cheeks did darken at Theseus’ gesture. Instead of trying to further combat the king’s words, she turned her attention elsewhere. “It is… nice to meet you, Asterius.” Her voice was soft, but did not hold the nervousness Asterius would have expected from one who was laying eyes upon The Minotaur for the first time. Asterius nodded. 

"Now, let us celebrate this victory! Asterius, my dear friend, stay here a moment with the lady. I shall return quicker than any bolt of Zeus!" Theseus rushed off before either could ask just what it was he intended to do, though Asterius had an inkling it would be something indulgent, as the king seemed to value pleasure above all else. He turned his attention to the girl before him. She was small, Asterius noted, but not much smaller than the king himself. Her long hair was covered in a variety of spring flowers and green vines, connecting to a halo of fresh fruit. He watched closely as the small bud of a flower bloomed open, just as another near it took its final breath, and fell to the ground below. He supposed she was like his mother in that regard; a nymph, but only in part. “Asterius…?” The bull nearly jolted, suddenly hearing his name. He had been starring, he now realized, though he hadn’t intended to. “You seem awfully meek for someone of your reputation, you know. Ah, but that’s not what I wanted to say… what I mean is, you don’t need to be just standing there. Come sit next to me- if you'd like to, that is.”

Her voice became quieter with every word, as if she was concerned she might've said something offensive. Not that Asterius would have particularly cared either way. “I will take you up on your offer," Asterius replied, "thank you."

Here was a nook buried deeply within a section of trees, their branches bent over a trellis so they'd form an arch. It was shady, but Asterius could still easily see the world beyond. He gazed first outwards, observing the sounds and sights of Elysium’s nature; the rush of a waterfall, the songs of birds. Then, again to Dianthus. With her fine clothing and jewelry Asterius might have thought of her as a noblewoman, but her poise was at odds with what he remembered of the few court women he saw in life, with her legs open and her shoulders casually rolled back. “So, what do you think?” she asked, “Is Elysium everything you assumed it would be?” Asterius titled his head. “A shade once told me the trees here grow fruit of gold. A ridiculous story.” “It is ridiculous. If the trees here really bore gold instead of fruit, us shades would have no fresh produce to eat! Or at the very least, no fruit.” she hummed, clearly amused at the story. “The shades here value their ability to indulge in whatever treats they desire! Even Theseus is no exception.” Asterius thought of his time in Erebus, and how a determined Theseus once braved the very depths of the underworld with the sole goal of sharing a basket of fresh bread from one of Elysium’s bakeries. “True,” he sighed. The girl, he noted, did not use Theseus’ title when talking about him. A sign of disrespect coming from others, but the way she spoke implied she’d known him for quite some time, and therefore was simply used to referring to him casually. Still, Asterius struggled to trust his own instincts, and so he asked: “Are you very close to the king?” “Oh! Well, that is… complicated. It isn’t a very interesting story, either.” Uncertainty into her voice, or maybe, she was just shy. Asterius did not want to push her, and yet… “I would be interested,” he admitted. Not knowing how to reassure her, Asterius copied what he saw Theseus do earlier, and took one of her small hands within his own as gently as he could manage. Unlike the king, whose hands were calloused after centuries of battle, hers with soft to the touch. “It’s not very interesting,” she repeated, her voice now softer, “and it is very long. You’d probably get bored listening to me ramble!” I’m interested in listening. I’m interested in you, he wanted to say, but he could not help but feel as if such words would be unwelcome. And so he fell silent, the lady’s hand still held within his own, peacefully watching out over the wide expanse of nature before him. So focused on the peacefulness of the nature before him, he nearly did not hear Theseus calling out “Bull of Minos! My dear maiden! I have returned t— oof!!” Asterius and Dianthus watched as an over excited King Theseus tripped and fell face first on Elysium’s soft grass. Before either could react, he was quick to stand back up, brush off his chiton, and grumble a curse under his breath. Slowly, he continued his way towards them. “Asterius, Dianthus,” he said, out of breath, “I have brought with me a gift!” Theseus lifted the pack he’d brought with himself into Erebus, and slowly loosened the drawstring. When Asterius peered over, he saw that its contents had now been entirely replaced with freshly plucked fruit. “Theseus! If you wanted to pick fruit, you could have asked me to bring a basket.” “Pshaw! Such a thing is unnecessary for one such as myself! And besides, this gift is, eh… rather spur of the moment?” Theseus replied with a huff, “Here, Noble Asterius! This is for you.”

Theseus pressed a fruit into Asterius' hand, some small red-and-purple berry with a unique texture. He did not eat straight away. Instead he stared at Theseus’ finger tips, dyed purple by the berries. He watched as Theseus, noticing the excess syrup, brought his hand to his mouth to clean. (“Oh, nasty! Go wash your hands in the Lethe or somethin'.” Dianthus huffed, before doing much the same after grabbing a berry of her own.)

The bull eyed the fruit with curiosity-  the same sweet scent that had carried on the wind earlier again filled his senses, but much more intensely this time.

Curious, he first brushed his tongue against the fruit. To his surprise, it was just as tart as it was sweet. The taste reminded him of the way the forest smelled, thick and woody and warmed by the light of Ixion. 

"Do you like it? Mulberries were my mother's favourite fruit! A large tree of them stood sturdy by my childhood home, so I've become an expert at identifying when they are at their ripest and most delicious!" 

"It's good..." 

"They're rich in antioxidants, you know." Dianthus added between handfuls of berries, “Good for your health!” 

“What the hell is an antioxidant," Asterius replied.

When Dianthus pouted, Theseus tensed for a moment… then erupted into howling laughter, nearly falling over yet again in the process.

"What's funny?"

"I apologize, my companion! I was merely surprised to hear you speak in such a way!!"

The king stifled his laughter, covering his mouth with a hand.  “Now, scoot over, my friend!" "Hmm?" Asterius shifted to the side, but was surprised when Theseus settled between himself and Lady Dianthus, so close that their shoulders were together (or as together as they could be- even while sitting, Asterius was much taller than them both).

Theseus held his berry-filled pack in his lap, their vibrant colours dying the fabric in an array of deep purple-red hues. Each berry was plump and ripe and looked utterly delicious- Asterius couldn't help but to gather a number of them in his hand, despite the way that they made his fur sticky.

There was something deeply pleasant about this togetherness, Asterius found. He did not have much experience with companionship, and yet he found the warmth of it enchanting. Dianthus continued to scold Theseus for his impulsiveness, but at the very same time plucking fresh fruit from where he held it in his lap, which in turn makes Theseus laugh unflatteringly. It was a strange feeling. He was used to being out of place in the world. He never thought it would be possible for another to look at him as anything other than a monster. But here he’d been shown kindness… He didn’t know if things would be able to last this way, but for now…

He was more than happy to indulge in the new pleasures Elysium had already given him.

~ Authour's Notes Mulberries are featured in the myth of one of Asterius' siblings, his baby brother Glaucus… they're used to solve a riddle regarding something that changes from white to black to red. I have a fic with Glaucus as a character in the works as well :~)

For those who have never played Hades; Asphodel was once an ordinary grassy land, but the river Pheleghton flooded over and into it, turning it into a Lava World. I like to think Theseus came and got Asterius from Erebus before this happened! Also the hydra guards the gate exiting from Asphodel into Elysium (but didn’t bother Theseus because Theseus has “”Special Clearance”” aka the thang just didn't really see him as much of a threat)

[azsazz]

Midnight Muse (Epilogue)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,783

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16] [Part 17] [Part 18] [Part 19] [Part 20] [Part 21] [Part 22] [Part 23] [Part 24] [Part 25] [Masterlist]

Notes: The end of an era 😭😭 Holy smokes I'm so happy and also sad I cannot believe it's over.

_________________________________________

**Seven Months Later**

“Azriel,” you sing-song, bursting in through the open front door to their house. 

At the end of the spring semester Azriel’s father had bought 3rd Street apartments, and none of you had renewed your leases. His father hadn’t even tried to convince him to stay, but that didn’t matter to Azriel. The only thing that any of the five of you seemed to care about was that you’d no longer be living next to each other come summer.

Azriel, Rhysand, and Cassian had found a house to rent on the outskirts of campus. Of course, the place is gorgeous, a modern number that looks like it costs more than Rhysand is making it out to be. He’d been adamant about the three of them staying together, no matter what, and he’d tried to convince you and Feyre to move into another apartment nearby, but it wasn’t the right fit for either of you. 

You wanted something more homey than the new building, something walkable since you nor Feyre have cars. You already miss your old apartment dearly, saddened by what Azriel’s father is going to make it into. Sure, the elevator was a death trap that stuck, and sure, the walls were thinner than paper, but it was home, where you’d found love with your grumpy next door neighbor, though you’re sure in Azriel’s version of the story you were the grumpy one. 

The five of you had spent your last night at the building together, drinking and eating your heart content in waffles and ice cream from Rita’s. It was the perfect last night to end your time in the building, but also the semester. You passed your Drawing 101 final with flying colors, the half swan portrait you drew was something you’d never thought you’d be able to finish. Now, it’s one of your most treasured artworks. 

You’d chosen the swan because of their representation of the awakening of the power of self and self-esteem. When you’d started the semester you’d been unsure of your ability in the creative world, but after hearing the stories of so many around you, Azriel’s included, it awakened your inner artist, and your work only grows more confident by the day.

You’d also chosen to morph yourself with the swan because of their grace. Grace in dealing with others; Azriel’s gnarly attitude, Cassian’s cheekiness, Rhysand’s cockiness, Lucien’s snark, and Feyre’s hidden relationship, which didn’t last long, but still hurt your friendship.

You’ve come a long way since then, and are now in love with the neighbor that had been a thorn in your side for months. Azriel is as sweet as ever now, though he still distracts you from your work these days, but it’s no longer with rowdy music.

You turn towards the living room where you hear Azriel calling your name. You come to a screeching half at the sight of him and Cassian, chests bare as they carry a couch between them, moving further into the room. 

Your eyes zero in on Azriel, his tan chest glistening with effort. It’s move in day for them and they’ve been carrying boxes from 3rd Street apartments all morning. He looks godly in the light spilling in through the large glass windows overlooking the yard. The parties at this place are going to be insane this year, of that you know. It’s all Cassian has talked about since they’d signed the lease, commenting how their housewarming party is going to rival that of Project X. 

“Hey, princess,” Azriel winks at your wandering eyes and you can only beam. So what if he’s caught you admiring his chiseled torso? He’s all yours and you can stare if you please. Although, the sudden dampness between your legs has you shifting on your feet, Azriel’s smirk widening. 

“Can you two stop eye-fucking for one minute?” Cassian groans dramatically, acting like he’s struggling under the weight of the couch. You and Azriel both roll your eyes at the same time, which makes you burst into giggles. “This thing is fucking heavy.” 

“All right, let’s put it over here,” Azriel directs, guiding them a few more feet into the room. They place it in front of the giant TV Rhysand splurged one, and you know movie nights are going to be great in here. It’ll be just like you’re at a movie theater, without all of the extra bodies. 

You and Azriel still have yet to break in the couch, often choosing the privacy of his bedroom (as much as the thin walls give you) over the common rooms he shares with his roommates.

Speaking of, there’s a thump coming from upstairs and the sound of Feyre’s laughter drifting down the staircase. So maybe this new house isn’t that much more private than your old apartment.

As soon as he puts his end of the couch down you’re flinging yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. Azriel laughs and swings you around before planting your feet back on the ground and leaning over to kiss you silly. 

The flooding warmth throughout your body only intensifies as he steps closer, pressing his body into yours and rolling his hips a little, allowing you to feel his interested cock in his pants. 

“Hi,” you grin when you part.

Azriel’s gold eyes glitter with amusement. “Hi, princess. How is your morning?” 

Your hands snake down his chest, brushing over his nipples as you go. You don’t miss his reaction to your touch and it makes you giddy all over again. Hooking your fingers into the waistband of his pants, your smile turns sultry, watching his eyes darken. “Much better now.” 

“Is that so?” Azriel quirks an eyebrow. He looks like he’s two seconds away from dragging you upstairs to his new room and breaking it in. You wouldn’t mind that one bit. “Do I want to know why you’re this cheery this early in the morning?”

“You already know,” you beam, rolling onto the tips of your toes to kiss him on the nose. When you try to pull away Azriel growls, tightening his grip on you. 

“You can’t say that and not want me to fuck you, princess,” he says roughly, leaning down to whisper in your ear. His breath is hot across the shell and you shudder in his arms, eyelashes fluttering at his words. You have to swallow back the moan threatening to escape.

You startle at the sound of a loud crash, turning to see Cassian all but glaring at the two of you, having just dropped a box of books to the ground purposefully. 

“I thought we were supposed to be moving,” Cassian tosses over his shoulder and yells up the stairs, “I can’t have both roommates fucking already. There’s still so much shit to move!”

“I’m coming,” Rhysand yells back and you crinkle your nose.

“Ew.” 

It makes Cassian crack, a smile twitching at his lips. He has his hands on his hips and is still staring at you and Azriel in a false stern manner. “I knew I made a good decision to befriend you, (Y/N).”

“More like forced yourself into my life,” you grumble playfully, following him out to his Bronco, stuffed full with boxes.

“Just for that, I’m giving you a heavy box,” he teases right back, but he wasn’t kidding because your breath is nearly knocked from your chest when he hands you one. It’s falsely labeled ‘Az’s room’ on it because it feels like there’s a pile of bricks in it. 

Azriel glares at his roommate as he rids you of the heavy box. You give him a smile in thanks, sneakily sliding out a box labeled ‘couch pillows’ instead. It takes you back to the day that you and Feyre moved into your last apartment, how the living room box had been the last one you’d brought inside before your very first—and terrible—run in with Azriel.

The smile you wander inside with is a nostalgic one.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•

“Are you ready?” 

“Yes!”

“Then why are you acting like I’ve already put the needle to your skin?” Azriel argues, sitting back in his chair.

You’re laid up on the table, shirt pulled up to your neck, waiting for Azriel to put the tattoo gun to your skin. You keep squirming, not quite comfortable on the cold table top, but it’s the best he can do while he’s still waiting to hear back about his apprenticeship he interviewed for last week. It’s been a few long, grueling days, and you thought you’d distract him by finally allowing him to give you your first tattoo. It had taken you months to decide, and Azriel hadn’t pushed you once about the matter, no matter how badly he’d wanted to put ink on your skin.

Now, the sound of the gun is making you rethink your decision.

You sigh loudly and Azriel shuts the gun off, placing it on the table. He rips the gloves from his hands and helps you sit up, guiding your shirt back into place.

“Maybe we should wait,” he suggests softly, though you can see the hurt in his eyes.

It’s not that you don’t trust him. No, you trust Azriel with your life. It’s that you’re overthinking the design you’d thought you wanted so badly. 

“I want one,” you huff, sadly, “But I don’t think this is the one.”

Azriel soothes his hands up your thighs. “That’s okay, princess. There’s no rush. You don’t even have to get one, if you don’t want to.” 

“I do,” you whine in frustration. You had it planned for weeks, this idea, and now…you just can’t go through with it. It doesn’t feel right. 

You slide off of the table into Azriel’s lap, resting your head against his chest as he holds you tight. You let the soothing beat of his heart calm you down, the running of his hands up and down your back a relaxing gesture. It makes your heart swell, with the amount of love that you have for him. 

Azriel brushes some hair away from your face when you pull back. He’s studying you with those intense golden eyes you’ve come to adore. You can read everything in those eyes; his annoyance, his happiness, his anger, his lust, even his feelings for you, but right now, you’re not all too confident in what he’s thinking.

“I want to show you something,” he murmurs softly and you frown.

“Okay,” you answer tentatively, but his hand is sure in yours as he laces your fingers together after helping you off his lap. 

He guides you up the stairs and into his room.

“Azriel,” you tease, “I already know this room too well,” you say, alluding to his first night in the house where he fucked you over every surface in his room. It was pure bliss, one of the best nights you’ve shared.

Azriel puffs a breathy laugh and guides you to sit on the edge of his bed. You follow his instructions with obedience, covering your eyes when he tells you.

He waves a hand in front of your face to make sure you’re not looking. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Um,” your lips turn into the cutest pout when you think. “Two?”

He’s holding up none but he grumbles. “I was thinking two.” 

You bounce giddily on the edge of his bed and his cock twitches as he thinks of you bouncing on his cock just like that. 

“Easy, princess.” 

You stop your bouncing but not your grinning.

Azriel strides over to his closet, pulling out the canvas he’s been working on, when you aren’t around, of course. Well, he only dares pull it out around you when you’re fast asleep in his bed. It’s consumed him day and night, and finally, his masterpiece is finished.

“What is it?” you ask giddily, unable to rein in your excitement or the butterflies in your stomach.

You hear Azriel’s laughter as he moves closer. “If I told you, that would defeat the whole purpose of me asking you to close your eyes, princess,” he tuts and you swear you can hear him rolling his eyes. “But you can open them now, Miss Impatient.”

“That’s my middle name—” your words stick to your throat as you stare at the canvas he’s holding in front of you. 

You’re in awe, struck by the lines so confidently drawn. You’re transported back to the night of his exhibition, when he’d shown you the blackest parts of his soul, put on canvas. 

Similarly to the centerpiece of the show, the charcoal drawing he has in front of you are two hands intertwined. His, with his rough scars, clutching tightly to a flawless hand, a feminine hand. 

Your hand. 

Azriel shifts nervously on his feet. All you’re doing is staring, open-mouthed, and he’d normally take that as a good sign, but when tears well your eyes his heart pinches in his chest.

“It’s,” you choke, pressing a hand to your aching heart. “It’s so beautiful, Azriel.”

He breathes out a sigh of relief, only managing to move the canvas out of the way when you launch yourself into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He leans it against the edge of his bed and tucks you tightly into his arms, pressing soft kisses to your forehead. 

“Shhh, princess. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” 

“I’m crying because it’s perfect,” you pull away and he’s wiping softly at your cheeks. Your eyes are red-rimmed and he hates that but he loves the way it makes your eyes pop. He studies them for a little longer, committing it to memory, something to sketch for later. “You’re perfect. And I—I love you.” 

His attention snaps onto your words, holding onto them like they could slip away like a shadow. You haven’t said that before, neither have you. And he’s been wanting to say it for so long now, was going to so many times but it never felt like the right moment. 

And it’s now that he realizes that there was never going to be a better moment than any of the times his lips formed the words, only for nothing to come out. He should’ve said it when he felt it because he knows you don’t care about the moment being this perfect thing, for fucks sake you’re crying in his arms right now and you’re telling him that you love him for the first time. 

He is such an idiot sometimes.

“I love you too, princess,” he admits in a rasp, throat thick with the words. He’s never felt something this strongly for someone before. He wants to be around you all of the time, wants to hold you and touch you and taste you. You consume him, mind, body, and soul.

You’re there, tattooed on his fucking soul, inked in the love he hadn’t known he was missing until you met. The darkness that consumed him was a starless sky, a void waiting to be filled. You. You are the moon and the stars lighting him up, brightening his days.

He fucking loves you. So, so much.

“Yeah?” you ask, your soft crying turns to happy tears, ones he can’t help but to kiss as they roll down their cheeks. “You love me?” 

“I love you, (Y/N),” Azriel says, “I think maybe I always have.” 

“That’s so not true,” you laugh wetly, trying to swat at his chest. Azriel catches your hand in his and kisses your palm, golden eyes gleaming.

“Okay,” he concedes with a grin, “Maybe not always, but for a long time now.” 

You shake your head fondly. Your eyes dart away from him in your sudden nervousness. “Az?” 

“Yeah, princess?” 

You look at the picture once more, admiring it. It’s utterly perfect, just like him. 

Pointing at it, you say, “That. I want that as my first tattoo.”

Azriel stares, shocked. “Are you sure? You know I’ll give you any tattoo that you want, but I need you to be one hundred percent positive. I don’t want you to regret anything.”

“I won’t,” you shake your head in disagreement and the softness in his eyes makes your heart swell. He looks like he can’t believe you’re real and you’re his. You’ll make him believe it and more. Later, you want to hear him say those three magical words while he’s pinning you to his sheets. Now, you want a tattoo. “This has to be the tattoo, Az. It’s us. I want us.”

He kisses you firmly on the mouth. Desperate.

“I want us too.” 

“Then let’s do this thing, Az. I’m ready.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

MM Taglist Part 1: @justvibbinghere @nickishadow139 @going-through-shit @honeycries @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r @ssmay123 @haivenhoule @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @bloodicka @acourtofbatboydreams @hannzoaks @judig92 @ilikefictionalmen @harrystylesfan2686 @dr4g0ngirl @helensophie @isa1b2h3 @viatorem-maris

[irkimatsu]

Huskposting Masterlist

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

A masterlist of all of my interesting fics and headcanon posts, so you don't have to scroll through all the two-sentence bullshit gumming up the Huskposting tag! NSFW pieces are marked as such. Fics, headcanons, song assignments, and other assorted tidbits that I think are worth looking at more than five minutes after I posted them.

Full Fics:

"If You're Lucky" - After losing a bet with Overlord Husk, the demon asks to have his way with you as your part of the deal. Originally intended as a standalone, I intend to turn this into a collection with a story arc eventually. NSFW!

"Teasing A Beast" - Oneshot where reader stripteases for Husk and then they have rough sex. Short, sweet, to the point. Reader has breasts and vagina. NSFW!

Headcanons:

Husk and one-night-stands in life

Musing about Husk's death

NSFW Heacanons

couple assorted SFW headcanons

Husk as an absent father

Headcanons going through Husk's life, up to his death

Husk nuzzling you so you smell like him

Husk's coping mechanism! (it's not great)

does he hate the name Husker?

he's too drunk to perform

Husk and religion

hehehe claw sucking

a reason for Overlord Husk to be fat

a magic trick goes wrong

assorted Overlord Husk horniness (NSFW!)

Husk's fluctuating weight

speculation about Husk and Alastor

possible future chapters of "If You're Lucky" (NSFW!)

Husk, US history, and legal gambling and alcohol

This man cannot fucking cook

Dominant Husk headcanons

Music (song links go to Tumblr posts that may or may not provide context for why I picked that song):

Full playlist

"Fallen Down" by Assemblage 23

"Forever 2013" by Bruderschaft

"Complex" by Dreams Divide

"The Modern Leper" by Frightened Rabbit

"Drown" by Imperative Reaction

"I Don't Remember" by Northern Lite

"Casino" by Toby Ash

I keep picking songs about drowning...

Drabbles:

Husk gushing about his S/O (centered around my self-insert, this was for me, sorry)

dancing with Husk in his room

dancing with Husk at a hotel party

playing with Husk's wings (NSFW!)

Husk dialogue during sex (NSFW!)

riding Husk (NSFW!)

Husk taking the lead with you (NSFW!)

Alastor interrupts (NSFW!)

Husk and the word "love"

to be Overlord Husk's spoiled pet...

massaging Husk's chest

more about being Overlord Husk's pet

Yandere Overlord Husk

Husk with a childhood friend of Alastor's

rough sex, Husk catching feelings

Other:

WHICH ONE OF YOU WOULD FUCK THIS OLD MAN

some cool t-shirts I yoinked from the fan Wiki

me infodumping to an outsider with Wiki facts

that line from Finale that itches my brain so good

you fuck wrinkly ass cats stop fucking submitting it

official Valentine's Day card

"Sober" cover by Paranoid DJ (not on my playlist but still worth a look)

FOXY GRANDPA

the first appearance of the phrase "cat nipples". get used to it

Keith David singing "LOVE" by Nat King Cole

me making terrible daddy jokes

my excuse for everything that happens on this blog anymore

[luciuscaelus]

Our Story (Fanfic)

Chapter 1 Promises

“Now, sing O Muses, of that brave boy Odysseïdes, Sparta has he visit'd, Pylos twice, with Athena the wise queen…”

“Stop it,” Telemachus giggled. “You’re acting like your father.”

“No, I’m not,” said Peisistratus. “You’re acting like your father.”

“No, I’m not,” said Telemachus. “Unlike him, I don’t have many deeds to brag about.”

“Doesn’t sailing for the first time count?” Peisistratus insisted. “And if you don’t like this song I can always make a new one for you.”

“No thanks, Peisis,” Telemachus said. “At least, leave it till my birthday.”

“That I can arrange,” Peisistratus replied, seriously.

And they locked their gazes for a long time, until Telemachus finally burst out laughing. Soon Peisistratus joined him, and their laughter quickly flooded the entire palace. It died down eventually, as the two young men slowly calmed down. Then Peisistratus started:

“I’m so glad you’re here, Tele. Had it been another usual day, I’d be hunting with my brothers in the fields. Not that I don’t like hunting, it’s just that I’ve so many things to talk about and my brothers always find them either boring or childish. You might be the only one I could chat with. Ah, I wish you could visit Pylos more often.”

“Yeah,” Telemachus nodded. “It feels like such a long time since we last met…has it been two years already?”

“One whole year plus nine months, to be exact.”

“Right, I’m not gonna doubt you. After all, you’re better with this than I am.”

“That’s about the time since your father returned home, yep.”

“Before he set out again, you mean.”

“He set out again? About when?”

Telemachus sighed. “About one year and eight months ago. Said it was something concerning a prophecy someone named Teiresias told him—”

“Teiresias? The Teiresias? But isn’t he already dead?”

“Yep. My father had visited the Underworld, literally.”

Peisistratus gasped. “What—Oh my, that was some nostos your father had. Anyway has he met any great hero there? Like Theseus? Or Heracles? Or even my brother Antilochus?”

“He saw your brother there alright,” said Telemachus. “And Heracles, who even talked to him…”

“That’s so sick!” Peisistratus exclaimed. “I wonder if we’ll be having an adventure like this in the future, say, just you and me, maybe plus someone else, I don’t know.”

“You know what? It would be great!” Telemachus blinked his eyes excitedly. Why have I never thought about it before? Hanging out with my friends? It’s such a great idea! And father is going to be proud of us…

proud…

He’s going to be proud, isn’t he?

Telemachus wasn’t so sure. He remembered basically everything in that day, when his father again departed from Ithaca, this time to somewhere unknown even to himself. He remembered that it was a sunny day, that the chanting of birds was glorious, that the sweet scent of olives was mesmerizing, that the airy dance of cloud was elegant. These he remembered well, but most vividly he could recall that very scene, that very conversation—

“Father, I want to come along,” he had said. “I want to be with you wherever you go, so we can at least share some thrills and fun together.”

“No, Tele,” his father had answered, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, but I can’t bring you on board, not this time.”

“Why?” He had been so confused. “But I’ve always wanted to explore the worlds outside Ithaca, to see the giant oak in Dodona, the reputable land of Calydon, the seven gates of the famous Cadmea…I want to have an adventure, father. Just like you did.”

He remembered that look well. That look his father had gave him, those eyes with such agony, such sadness. Is it panic, panicking at the thought of his son following him down the miserable path that was meant for his own to take? Is it fear, fearing for the life and sanity of his son? Or is it sorrow, sorrowful over the naïve and innocent spirit of his 20-year-old son? Or is it pain, painful about the fact that he doesn’t even qualify as being a father, who never had the chance to see his son through the childhood, and hadn’t gotten to know this brave young man his son has become, before his fate was calling him to sail out again?

For a long time both of them didn’t speak, and the look was growing wearier and wearier and…it seemed as if another decade had passed inside his father’s mind, another decade filled with tribulations and torments. Telemachus couldn’t help but feel his regret. Regret that he ever said those words, regret that he wasn’t with his father when he needed him. The hands. He could feel his father’s hands gripping his shoulders tightly. But finally his father had lower the head, and sighed heavily. In a low voice, Odysseus had begun. “Tele, you have to understand. This cruel world is not as entertaining as it may seem, or sound in those tales. It’s dangerous out there, filled with monsters, storms, ruthless gods, and…and things that can go beyond your very imagination. Things that are so terrible, so overwhelming…”

He hadn’t finished the sentence, instead he was choked with sobs, and Telemachus had felt so guilty, and so helpless. But he had tried his best to withhold his tears, and had started to comfort his father. “Then I’ll face them bravely, father, like you would do. Like a true son of Odysseus would do.” Telemachus had put up with a smile. “As a true Odysseïdes.”

“Oh Tele…” Odysseus had moaned with tears. “Oh…for ten years I haven’t seen your face, in one month I haven’t gotten to know you better, but look, what an undaunted man you have become, when I’m away!” Finally, he had cracked into a smile. “Yes, that’s my boy!” He had said with sincere happiness, though the pain was still present in his voice. But at least, Odysseus had smiled.

And Telemachus had exhaled with relief.

“Father,” he had continued. “I wouldn’t insist if you really don’t want me along, but I need to know where you’re going, what you’re going to do, and how long I should wait for your return. Could you please tell me, just for mom’s sake and mine?”

And Odysseus had nodded. “Don’t worry about your mother, Telemachus. Penelope knows about this, and you have every right to know it as well.” He had stopped, and looked towards the western sky. As Telemachus followed his gaze, Odysseus continued. “Do you remember the story I’ve told you, about that prophet Teiresias in the Underworld? I had asked him about my fate, and he had answered:

‘…When someone else runs into you and says you've got a shovel used for winnowing on your broad shoulders, then fix that fine oar in the ground there, and make rich sacrifice to lord Poseidon with a ram, a bull, and a boar that breeds with sows. Then leave. Go home, and there make sacred offerings to the immortal gods…’

“So you see, Telemachus, I don’t know where I’ll go to, but I know what I’ll find. It may be a long voyage, or it may be short. Who knows? But I’m going anyway, because I am Laërtiades, son of the honorable Laërtes—one of the legendary Argonauts.”

“I see,” Telemachus had said. “The blood of dauntlessness runs deep in our family.”

“Precisely.” Odysseus had laughed proudly. “You, my son, will also share this honor, in the future perhaps, when you take on a journey of your own, and build your fame with your own feats. But today, the journey is mine to undertake, and with the blessing of the prophet, I’m very certain that I will make it home again.”

“Okay.” With a serious face, Telemachus had nodded. “Then I’ll try not to surpass you.”

They were both grinning when an owl started to whoop from the forest.

“Wait, dad,” Telemachus had suddenly called. “If not this time, then when?”

Odysseus had given him a slight smile. “When I return, son, I shall take you to Dodona, where the oaks are august; then we’ll visit Calydon, where twenty two heroes had once gathered to slay that giant boar; then we shall go to Thebes, where twice had the Argives waged war against, one of them being the father of a king whom I have befriended; and then,” Odysseus had patted Telemachus’s right shoulder. “Then I will bring you to Pylos again. And know that I won’t be gone for long. This is a promise.”

“Swear it on the river of Styx?”

“I swear it, on the river of Styx.”

Gradually, Telemachus had returned the smile. “Thank you, dad.” He had said, voice cracked with the bittersweet taste in his throat. “Thank you so much.”

He remembered the hug, the kiss, and the departure of his father clearly. He remembered how often he had doubted that whether his father would ever make it back again. He remembered that worried look of his mother, who had often stood by the shores of Ithaca, waiting, waiting. But he also remembered, that Odysseus had made a promise.

And here they were, in Pylos again, weren’t they?

And it only took him eight months, didn’t it?

So, there’s nothing to worry about. After all, there’s nothing that can waver the resolve of Odysseus’s homecoming. And thus he shall always return. Always.

All because of his love, and his promise.

Telemachus nodded to this fact. Love, and promise. That’s what my father was proud of. And if I have found the courage to love, to make a promise, then will Odysseus be proud of me, even with the knowledge that I may travel afar, likely into an ocean of danger, and a sea of trouble?

Then will we get to have our adventure, and get back safely? Will we get to tell our tales, and make our own story?

So to Peisistratus he said these words, with all his heart:

“And I’m sure we will. Of this I give you my promise.”

[six-eyed-samurai]

O IS FOR ONE

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This relationship should not be condoned and was only written for entertainment purposes. Dark content like murder, gaslighting, cutting up and cannibalism is in here, so don't read if it makes you uncomfortable. Minors, scat and shoo and scram!

Obviously, he's obsessing over his one and only!

I put a lil tracker on your phone, just to make sure you’re all alone - and I crept into your room, lying next to you, saying I love every part of you, blood and skin and bone.

Walking down the corridor casually and oh so ordinarily he pretends to trip and makes you fall down with him, slipping a tiny little tracker into your pocket, hidden amongst overbearing, obscure, obsequious apologies and a flash of that open smile for the cherry on top. Oblivious little you didn’t even feel the extra weight in your jacket, occupied with trying to hide your giggles.

Anyone who might try and catch your love, sweetheart, might not survive for long, because I've got a knife and a big crush on you, you, you!

He expresses concern over the ogling boys and so called friends who hadn't shown up to school while throwing away the offending bottle of poison he had dripped into their food, pleasing him with the appeased look on your face and twisting his heart at the same time - how dare your concern be given those odious others? Very well, soon the obstacles will have to obey his orders and leave you if they value their organs!

Lies, cheats, fools...how many of them could possible be at school? Backstabbed by friends who haven't read the rules on how to survive without incurring terrible consequences...well, sinners who stained your name had to repent, and repent they will.

Of course he’s heard those onerous, opprobrious snakes of gossip girls oppugn your very Olympian-god worthy self and ostracized you out of their friend groups, essentially abandoning you, so what sort of knight would he be if he didn’t slay the dragons for his princess? He stalked their social media, then sabotaged every project, homework, relationship, posts, family ties and things they've done in their oppugnant existence that he could lay his hands on. How dare they cause you such ordeals.

You're my muse in every poem that I write, every song that I sing, every romance story you star - it's all just to be with you, don't you see? Or rather, dream? 

He hopes nobody will ever check under his desk, because he’s got a whole outrageous file dedicated to papers upon papers of crossed out, failed love letters, poems that could barely do your open-hearted, optimistic presence and scribbled fantasies he's determined to have with you one day...even if you are going to have to be unconscious, so be it! You’re never going to remember it anyway in the end, and he’s not afraid to admit that’s the part that drives him mad. 

Aren't I your friend, show you anything you want and need once you get to know me? Are they your friends, wreck your life, make you cry, laugh behind your back?

But you know what drives him even more insane? Over everyone who can freely talk to you, have your obligation to touch and hold hands and hug, LOOK AT YOU AS IF THEY COULD EVER OWN YOU - aaaah, why can't he do that? WHY CAN'T HE BE THE ONLY ONE TO DO THAT? It's alright, it's fine, you can't talk without a tongue! Overzealous they may call him and overprotective he might be, but he’ll do anything for a love just as obsessive from you. 

Sure, I know it hurts honey but you've got to grin and bear it, just a little slice, 'cause when it's all done you and I can never leave.

Can you really blame him? He just desperately wants to hear you promise you'll be with him forever and ever and ever, and what better way to do that than to extract a blood oath? Oops, guess he cut off your hand! It's fine, now you'll have to depend on him even more - he swears he'll be good to you, oh so good! Anything you want and need will be offered!

I'm the better alter ego when I'm down on my knees for you, so I'll take a hammer to their heads, but to her I just reek of love, so if I go down it's only because it's over!

He’s known for being calm and cool and...alright, and a crazy killer too who has never been more triggered than when he sees you being the target of horny comments by his traitorous pals. They'll find out just how strong he really is soon enough! Funny way of answering their questions, huh?

Gore is what I carve up and what I'll serve in gourmet, and of course my gorgeous, you can join the soiree.

His friends constantly ask him what's in his secret meat soup recipe - pork? Chicken? Seafood? - as they talk about their missing friend at the same time...oh, idiots that they were. He slyly glances at you - ah, thank the stars for you too had no idea of where he was. His suggestion of “in a better place now” was widely accepted, although he doubted that being digested by stomach acid applied. 

The world says I'm depraved, but your love's just what I crave, and I know you feel it as well, so they can all go burn and rot and die in hell. 

He can't take it if anyone says otherwise about the both of your love or disagree with your compliments, no, no, no! Duct tape won't work, so he'll break their jaws! You're his one and only, only he can break and take and snap you, the same way only he can be affectionate and shower his only true love with worship!

Now tell me that you love me or everything blows, you have to reciprocate, you have to love me! I'll burn this fxxking house down and hide them all six feet underground, only for you, you know? It can't be all for nothing!

He threatens to jump off the balcony if you don't return his crazed affections, especially when you're pressed against the wall and strangled by his hands - he’s done all this for you and for the “us”, atrocious crimes and horrendous killing…but he honestly doesn’t want to force a confession out of you, so why won’t you be an obedient little darling?

[theexaltedbride]

Dead Island 2 Slayers X Reader Headcanons (Part Two!)

(Since so many people liked the first one, and some even asked me for more, I decided to let my muse run wild again. Having a great time with the game so far and I hope you all enjoy the little stories that have sprung up from my playthrough and can have a good time with your favorite slayer(s). If you feel I missed any characters or areas it’s because I haven’t heard or seen them yet and I’m writing based on what inspiration comes to me.)

Amy:

-Amy won’t immediately admit it, but sometimes she wonders if she made the right choice in giving up her seat to other people on a previous evacuation flight. It can be hard to keep up the morale, but then you remind her that it was thanks to that which let the two of you meet, and that since then Amy (and the others) have saved so many innocent lives. Not only did Amy make the right choice, you remind her that so many people owe everything to her because of it.

-Sometimes she forgets to work out the kinks in her muscles, and likes to say that she can handle it. But when you put your hands on her and begin working the knots out of her shoulders and back, she melts into your touch and allows herself to be vulnerable with you.

-Always appreciates when you can bring her some chewing gum, especially if it has some good flavor to it or has a nice scent, so she can use it to ignore the rotting stench in the air around the zombies.

-Whenever you start humming or singing or playing the Rocky montage music it just causes Amy to laugh uncontrollably. It gives her that little bit more spirit, and she returns the favor by sometimes acting like a sports announcer when you are training in gym back at Emma’s mansion.

-She always loves giving you a quick peck of a kiss after a successful fight. If you want more you’ve got to catch her (good luck, she can easily run circles around you).

-Once when you were alone, she admitted it was always her dream to win the gold at the Paralympics, but that she’d happily give it up to spend the rest of her life with you safe and away from all the fighting and killing. Sometimes when she thinks no one is looking, she has a little cross she will pull out and use to pray, and she prays for your health and safety, and that if anything happens to her, that you will survive and heal from the loss of her.

Bruno:

-Nearly got shocked to death trying to charge his phone from a Shocking Walker, but you managed to shove them away with a rubber tire, and saved Bruno’s life, this is how you both met, and he gave you directions back to Emma’s mansion where the others could help him, he’s been on you like glue since then.

-If you let him, he will go on and on about whatever internet based shows or media he’s into, and will give your stuff at least a three episode try before he makes a decision of if he’s into it or not.

-Sometimes can get too far into Gen-Z slang when talking about you, to the point you have no idea what he’s saying, but from the joy in his eyes you know he cares about you and is praising you.

-He has dozens of music playlists saved on his phone, three of them are specifically tailored to you, for you, or which remind him of you.

-Over at the Goat Pen mansion he acted like a DJ and got on the mike, announcing to all the zombies that could hear about how amazing you are and how the Zeds better run because the two of you were gonna make today special by going for a world record in zombie kills. 

-Once got super pissed off when some influencer survivor started insulting your fashion choices and he practically spoke in tongues from how he swapped languages in his anger and just couldn’t even focus on his words. No one talks bad about his lover, especially not some fake ass industry plant looking influencer who sold out to the big companies before they even hit it big. 

Carla:

-Carla is proud of her size and strength, never missing a chance to boast about it, especially if you show signs of being into it. When you cuddle or sleep together, you are absolutely the little spoon, and sometimes she likes to joke about crushing your head between her thighs, but if you act like you like it she will start blushing hard and have no idea what to say next.

-She likes to boost your confidence by sometimes letting you one up her during a sparring match at the Gym back in Emma’s house. Half of fighting is keeping the proper mindset, and the other half is a mix of skill and training.

-If you complain too much about how hard it is building up your muscles she will make a challenge. If you can build up your muscle mass to a certain level without enhancers or other methods of cheating, then she will start training naked with you. Is she joking? You have to get those gains to find out!

-Carla likes to be on point when fighting Zeds, trusting you to have her back while she handles the bigger enemies up ahead. She always tells you to stand back whenever you encounter Crushers.

-Genuinely hates the insect swarm walkers, or any other infected covered in insects. More than once you’ve had to brush them off of her or tell her there is nothing crawling in her hair. She’s a little embarrassed about it, but prefers not talking about it and just crushing more Zeds under her feet.

-When the two of you sit together, Cala’s always putting an arm around you and keeping you close to her, and if she’s very relaxed then she will lean her head over on your own.

Jacob:

-Won’t admit it, but he’s got a thing for cowboys and you once caught him wearing some scavenged red cowboy outfit, with a hat and boots and belt, etc. He got so embarrassed when you found him, but brightened up once you played along and reassured him there was nothing to be ashamed of. There’s no dress code for the apocalypse, and so long as he is happy, you are happy.

-Jacob is absolutely the kind of guy to roleplay in the bedroom with you (especially if it feeds into his love for old Westerns), and will play along with your own fantasies if you play along with his. 

-If you have a major issue with his smoking he will try (emphasis on try) to get it under control, but you’re gonna have to get him a lot of nicotine gum or patches. Though you could also distract him from needing to smoke by sharing a kiss with him each time the urge hits him.

-Once you had a night terror (sadly common for everyone these days) while sleeping next to him, and his normally devil-may-care, class clown, demeanor dropped. He was incredibly gentle with you, asking you if you were okay, and willing to stay up all night, just holding you until you drifted off to a more comfortable sleep again. 

-Would love to introduce you to his family, but is a little nervous as he sometimes feels that you are too good for him, and could do better than him. A fear you always remind him is untrue. You love him no matter what.

-It is slowly becoming a thing for the two of you to try and one up each other with jokes, and while it aggravates the others to hear the constant comedy routine between the both of you, its the happiest either of you have been in a while. 

Ryan:

-Absolutely has a ‘Fireman’ voice he slips into (both consciously and unconsciously) when he’s trying to impress you or put you at ease. Gets a blush if you bring it up to him when he’s doing it unconsciously. 

-Is always happy to share stories with you about his brother, but sometimes he will get sad and worry his brother might be hurt or dead...or infected. Whenever those fears come, you chase them away with a firm hug, kiss, or a promise that his brother is okay and will be the best man at your wedding.

-Is the best hypeman of the entire group when it comes to working out at the gym and always knows what to say to help you complete a set and build up your strength for battles to come.

-Whenever you feel bad about your body, Ryan will remind you of how perfect you really are. With just a gentle hold of his hand, and the shine in his eyes, its as if you are catching a second wind when you were at your lowest point.

-Ryan actually ran through fire (thanks to having real firefighter’s pants and boots) to pull you out of danger, and pulled off a good fireman’s carry to get you to safety when some oil caught fire during a fight with the undead.

-Ryan sometimes likes to get a tan when the group takes a day off, and likes to make sure he stretches or does poses when he thinks you’re watching. Sometimes it works, and other times hilarity ensues.

General group headcanons:

-If you can convince the others to try a tabletop RPG together, Luciana will instantly jump in as the GM, though she seems to hate D&D for reasons she will not explain. (Bruno has a bet going that its because Andrea fell for the Satanic panic nonsense). But for just about every RPG out there Luciana has a PDF of it ready to go, even super obscure ones almost no one plays. She’s a big nerd about the lore, theories, and stats about each game and will go on about it till she’s too exhausted to talk.

-Bruno makes movie references and got Carla laughing when he once compared her to the character Byron from Mars Attacks when he started punching out a bunch of Martians single handedly because Carla had been doing the same against a swarm of weaker Shamblers and 1 hit KO’d almost a dozen Shamblers.

-Whenever someone in the group wants to get intimate, everyone else runs interference for them so they aren’t interrupted or ruin the moment.

-Andrea has started to warm up to you the most out of all the Slayers and sometimes packs you a lunch if you’re going to be out with the group for the whole day. 

-If you can find a proper mixtape of Sam B’s songs (even beyond ‘Who do you voodoo bitch?’) he will be in a good mood at someone recognizing his songs beyond his one-hit-wonder song.

Back at Emma’s Mansion: 

-There is a general rule of ‘No Politics’ at the safehouses. Everyone has their own opinion and tensions can run hot after a difficult mission, the last thing anyone needs is fists being thrown over idiot politicians thousands of miles away. (Given some of the encounters and revelations about influencers around Hell-A, this rule is also starting to apply to them too).

-You, Sam-B, and Luciana are the ones actually making notes in the Zompedia based on encounters you’ve all had and what you’ve observed in the field. Luciana wants to turn it into a real zombie survival guide.

-Elizabeth has a near encyclopedic knowledge of random facts and data from all the different books she’s read.

-Curtis will teach you how to shoot his hunting rifle, but make the shots count, he doesn’t have infinite bullets. 

-Carlos helps you with fixing your equipment and learning to clean it without cutting yourself. 

-While Amy is the most mature of the group and tries her best to set a good example, Dani is effectively becoming team mom. She’s rough around the edges but will tell you what you need to hear even if its a tongue lashing for having messed up. 

Movie Night:

-Amy loves picking Forest Gump and will always swear that the original book is a piece of shit, and that the movie is so much better.

-Bruno picks action or heist movies, or wants to watch HBO miniseries.

-Carla’s favorite choices are the Keanu Reeves John Constantine movie, or the first Matrix movie.

-Dani is into musicals. Laugh and she will smack you on the mouth. 

-Jacob loves anything that has a Wester/Cowboy vibe to it.

-Ryan has watched that old Disney version of John Carter of Mars like four times now. 

-Carlos loves sports movies, especially from the Rocky or Creed series of movies. Though he also has a soft spot for Stand and Deliver (1988), he might be convinces to watch BSG (2003) because it also has James Edward Olmos.

-Amanda the influencer is no longer allowed to pick movies.

-Curtis loves picking his own movies and sharing behind the scenes stories about cast and crew.

-Emma never watches her own movies, while Sam B only ever wants to watch Emma’s movies.

-Elizabeth picks movie adaptations of her favorite books, and then comments the entire time about how close or different it is to the book.

-Luciana picks the nerdiest movies you can imagine, but lately has been picking the Evil Dead series, and will totally geek out if anyone quotes Ash while killing zombies.

-Andrea loves historic dramas.

-You know your own choices. The hard part is finding unbroken DVDs in Hell-A and bringing them back to the safehouse to watch. Surprisingly Patton had a couple of them.

In Patton’s Safehouse: 

-Patton really appreciated you taking a gentle tone with him, without talking down to him like a child, or getting jumpy like he was going to bite you. For this he gave you a key to his bunker.

-Has a hidden popcorn machine he uses for when anyone actually sits to watch movies with him and tends to shush people if they talk too much. 

-After the end of the game, you and the other slayers turn his safehouse into a shelter for other survivors and a home away form home for you all. 

-You are very particular about making sure Patton’s safehouse is not messy, in case he ever comes back.

[bracketsoffear]

Achilles (The Illiad) "“Wrath. Sing, O Muse, of Wrath.” So starts The Illiad, the first epic in Homer’s, then the West’s Epic Cycle. Although the story focuses on many characters, it’s framing narrative, and thus most famous character, is Achilles, known for his invulnerability (save his heel) and for his Wrath— ie, his slaughter and desecration of Hector and Hector’s corpse. Achilles’ invulnerability means that the amount of damage he does on the battlefield is intense, but it’s the grief-stricken desire for revenge against Hector which I think really earns him a place on this list— he’s so angry at Hector killing Patroclus that he immediately goes out and fights Hector, stabbing him through the neck with a spear, and then dragging his body around, tied to his chariot, as he goes to murder more people in his rage. While one might argue Hunt for him specifically chasing Hector, ultimately I’d choose slaughter because of the all encompassing bloodlust that follows his slaying of Hector, and all of his fighting in the Illiad in general."

Angron (Warhammer 40k) "He's the angriest fucker alive. He's the Blood God's primary champion, and he does literally nothing except murder people all day. In one of the recent books, he murdered so hard he created a system-wide Murder-Curse that made everyone go insane and start murdering each other. Literally too angry to stay dead for more than eight weeks. He's got cybernetic implants in his brain that cause him agonizing pain whenever he feels anything other than rage. His name is fucking ANGRON, for fucks sake."

[thatspookyagent]

Being Jaskier's S/O (Bard!Male!Reader) would include...

Warnings: None!

a/n: These headcanons are sadly shorter than most that I write up (probably because I’m not writing and describing a whole relationship from very first meet up to finish lmao) but I hope that y’all enjoy this nonetheless. I am open to writing up more headcanons that are Witcher based in the future. And since Jaskier is lacking in some departments (Male!Reader & Black!Reader wise), I’ve decided to start with him first. Anyways y’all know the drill, if ya liked what ya read, REBLOG IT!

If you want to be tagged in any of my content, don’t be afraid to tell me via my ask box or through messages! Just remember to be clear about what specific kinds of content, characters, and fandoms you want me to tag you in or if you want to be put on my general tag list! I’m always looking to add more people and I’d be more than happy to add you (if you wish)! :3

Being a bard and Jaskier’s boyfriend means ultimately being both his muse and best friend

Would confide in you about his newest songs ideas and you’d always be the first to hear them whenever he performs a sample of it for you

You both first met in a bar, were you held an open challenge to see if anyone could out sing you or earn more applause than you while performing

Since you out played him significantly, he's been entranced by your skills ever since and decided to strike up a relationship with you, friends first but gradually lovers next

Takes your opinions personally and with utmost seriousness since you’re not only his partner but also a bard yourself

Gladly will always be there in order to lend you an ear or piece of advice as you would the same for him

Loves to discuss how different lutes sound and which ones look aesthetically the best with you because you can actually understand his excitement towards sexy lutes

Also you're the only one willing to make a ranking of best and worst materials to make lutes from with him

Speaking of lutes, he names the lute that he was carrying when he first met you after you

Will not let anyone but you use it or even touch it because it’s just that sentimental to him

If you name the lute that you were carrying when you first met Jaskier after him, he’ll probably have a good cry about that one later

And Jaskier will absolutely lose his mind (affectionately) if you carve his initials into your favorite lute

Enjoys talking and swapping stories with you while polishing each other's instruments around a campfire

A campfire is actually where you first confessed your affection for Jaskier, it was within a love song about two male bards just trying making their mark on the world through song alongside a white haired Witcher and his steed

From then on singing and laughing around campfires has been one of your top ways of bonding with the other male

Other ways you’ve expressed your love to Jaskier is by making and singing duets with him

Y’all are actually quite well known for singing together specifically ballads but also really romantic songs that touch just about everyone’s heart deepy

If Jaskier becomes your muse and you open up to him about this, he’ll also confess that you’re his muse as well

The two of you truly haven’t written and sung as many songs as y’all have now until you met one another

You’d also never been invited to perform at a ball before but since you and Jaskier became so popular, both of your voices have now had the honors of gracing many halls of kings and queens alike

It reflects with the amount of coin increasing in your pockets and fancy hand tailored matching outfits that both you and him adorn

If you’re not one for crowds particularly royal crowds, both you and your coin tossing boyfriend frequent many bars while traveling with Geralt, and are known on a more humble and local level than noble and global

The poor and hopeless citizens of many kingdoms, look to both you and Jaskier to entertain them, and distract them from their everyday worries

Either way, you’re both the ultimate bard power couple in any lands that y’all happen to be in

Now when it comes to specifically being a companion of Geralt’s, he enjoys having two bards at his side more than he likes to let on

While yes both and you Jaskier can be rather dramatic (and also noisy) as well as pretty much target practice when it comes to how useful the two of you are in battle, Geralt needs company beyond that of a horse from time to time whether he openly admits this or not

Not to mention you and the babbling brown haired nuisance named Jaskier, help to spread the word of Geralt and his deeds in a good light

Your penchants for being able to talk people’s ears off and distract them, can at times help the Witcher out whenever he’s in a pinch or when brute force isn’t really an option 

Also Geralt can use both of you to look after Roach in various ways especially whenever he’s not around or doesn’t have the time to

You and Jaskier like to run your songs in progress by Roach who always proves to be a tough customer in that regard similar to her Witcher owner

After long days of walking, wailing, and song writing, a much needed rest is in order with your brown haired accomplice

Ways in which you and Jaskier wind down include taking baths together or preparing a bath for the other

Since there’s never really a silent moment between the two of you, reflecting on how both of your days went to each other is a recurring topic of conversation

At times that can drift off into convos about music or musical instruments but moments like this are for you and the other male to check in with and dote on one another

Which means that there’s quite a bit of pampering and more gentle laughter being shared as well as forgetting about all the other people that there are in the world

As far as you and Jaskier are concerned, you’re the main characters, it’s your shared story, and everybody else are just background characters

[homomenhommes]

THIS DAY IN GAY HISTORY

based on: The White Crane Institute's 'Gay Wisdom', Gay Birthdays, Gay For Today, Famous GLBT, glbt-Gay Encylopedia, Today in Gay History, Wikipedia, and more … December 14

c.530 – Venantius Fortunatus (d.circa 600/609) was a Latin poet and hymnodist in the Merovingian Court, and a Bishop of the early Catholic Church. He was never canonised but was venerated as Saint Venantius Fortunatus during the Middle Ages.

Born in Treviso, near Ravenna in Italy, he spent his time as court poet to the Merovingians. After visiting the tomb of St. Martin of Tours at St. Hilary at Poitiers, he decided to enter a monastery.

He continued to write poetry, some of which have a permanent place in Catholic hymnody, for instance the Easter season hymns "Vexilla Regis" and the "Pange Lingua" (Sing, O my tongue, of the battle). Three or four years before he died he was made bishop of Poitiers. Although never canonized, he was venerated as a saint in the medieval church, and his feast day is still recognized on 14th December each year.

Like Paulinus of Nola, St Venantius's poetry also includes some decidedly secular verse of the romantic sort. That this celebrates male love is clear from its inclusion in the Penguin Book of Homosexual Verse.

"Written on an Island off the Breton Coast" You at God's altar stand, His minister And Paris lies about you and the Seine: Around this Breton isle the Ocean swells, Deep water and one love between us twain. Wild is the wind, but still thy name is spoken; Rough is the sea: it sweeps not o'er they face. Still runs my lover for shelter to its dwelling, Hither, O heart, to thine abiding place. Swift as the waves beneath an east wind breaking Dark as beneath a winter sky the sea, So to my heart crowd memories awaking, So dark, O love, my spirit without thee.

Fortunatus died in the early 600s. He was called a saint after his death, but was never formally canonized.

1791 – Today is the birthday of the Irish poet Charles Wolfe (d.1823). Born at Blackhall, County Kildare, Wolfe attended Trinity College, Dublin between 1809 and 1814 and was ordained as a Church of Ireland priest in 1817. He is remembered for his poem "The Burial of Sir John Moore after Corunna", written in 1816 and much collected in 19th and early 20th century anthologies.

Wolfe's sexuality is often disputed, many believe he was homosexual. He certainly had an extremely intense friendship with the Rev. Thomas Meredith for whom he wrote two gushing epithets. Wolfe died from tuberculosis caught from a cow at the age of 32. Yes. A cow. Even into the mid-20th century tuberculosis was commonly transferred via milk.

1901 – King Paul of Greece (d.1964) reigned as king of Greece from 1947 to 1964. He may have been bi-sexual.

Paul was born in Athens, the third son of King Constantine I of Greece and his wife, Princess Sophia of Prussia. He was trained as a naval officer. On 9 January 1938, Paul married Frederika of Hanover at Athens. They had three children.

Before his marriage he is alleged to have invited the homosexual literary muse, Denham Fouts, on a cruise of the Aegean Sea, perhaps because they were lovers. However, Fouts's friend John B. L. Goodwin said Fouts often made up stories about his life, and literary critic Katherine Bucknell thought many of the tales about him were myth.

During most of World War II, when Greece was under German occupation, he was with the Greek government-in-exile in London and Cairo. From Cairo, he broadcast messages to the Greek people.

Paul returned to Greece in 1946. He succeeded to the throne in 1947, on the death of his childless elder brother, King George II.

1951 – Today's the birthday of American actor and puppetteer Paul Zaloom. He's best known for his role as the character Beakman on the television show Beakman's World, based on the Universal Press Syndicate syndicated comic strip You Can With Beakman and Jax created by Jok Church.

Paul Zaloom was educated at The Choate School (now Choate Rosemary Hall) in Wallingford, Connecticut, and began his entertainment career at Goddard College with artists in residence the Bread and Puppet Theater, a troupe specializing in self-invented, home-made theater. One of their performance locations was Coney Island, where Zaloom is said to have given advice to the "unofficial Mayor of Coney Island", Dick Zigun, on how to bring in the crowds. In his solo work he utilizes found-object animation, in which he takes objects as varied as coffee pots and humidifiers and turns them into elements of political satire. His personal politics are liberal; he has referred to Elizabeth Dole and Margaret Thatcher as "right wing nut jobs." He has also been a fierce critic of U.S. foreign policy since the early 1980s, having helped to lead a disarmament march during the Cold War.

In 1992 Zaloom starred in the cable TV children's science program Beakman's World. The show moved to CBS in 1993 and aired for four seasons. Zaloom has also written, designed and performed eleven full length one-man shows, including Fruit of Zaloom, Sick But True, Mighty Nice, and The Mother of All Enemies, the latter a shadow-puppet show featuring traditional Middle-Eastern comic puppet character Karagoz. His latest effort tackles social issues such as privacy, the war on terrorism, and discrimination based on sexual orientation and ethnicity. Aside from shadow puppetry, Zaloom's idiosyncratic work utilizes techniques such as overhead projection, government document expose, cantastoria picture performance, toy theater, as well as hand, rod, found object, and dummy puppets.

Zaloom has described himself as "a Gay, Buddhist, agnostic, quaker, secular humanist knucklehead."

1955 – Hervé Guibert (d.1991) was a French writer and photographer. The author of numerous novels and autobiographical studies, he played a considerable role in changing French public attitudes to AIDS. He was a close friend and lover of Michel Foucault.

Guibert was born in Saint-Cloud, Hauts-de-Seine, to a middle-class family and spent his early years in Paris, moving to La Rochelle from 1970 to 1973. In his teens Hervé Guibert lied about his age to work at the magazine 20 ans eventually leading to a job with Le Monde. After working as a filmmaker and actor, he turned to photography and journalism. In 1978, he successfully applied for a job at France's prestigious evening paper Le Monde and published his second book, Les aventures singulières (published by Éditions de minuit). In 1984, Guibert shared a César Award for best screenplay with Patrice Chéreau for L'homme blessé. Guibert had met Chéreau in the 1970s during his theatrical years.

Guibert's writing style was inspired by the French writer Jean Genet. Three of his lovers occupied an important place in his life and work: Thierry Jouno, director of an institute for the blind whom he met in 1976, and which led to his novel Des aveugles; Michel Foucault, whom he met in 1977; and Vincent Marmousez, a teenager of fifteen who inspired his novel Fou de Vincent.

In January 1988 Guibert was diagnosed with AIDS. From then on, he worked at recording what was left of his life. In June the following year, he married Christine, the partner of the late Thierry Jouno, so that his royalty income would eventually pass to her and her two children. In 1990, Guibert publicly revealed his HIV status in his roman à clef "À l'ami qui ne m'a pas sauvé la vie" (published in English as To the Friend Who Did Not Save My Life). Guibert immediately found himself the focus of media attention, featured in newspapers and appearing on several television talk shows.

Two more books also detailing the progress of his illness followed: Le Protocole compassionnel (published in English as The Compassionate Protocol) and L'Homme au chapeau rouge (published in English as The Man In The Red Hat), which was released posthumously in January 1992, the same month French television screened La Pudeur ou l'impudeur, a home-made film by Guibert of his last year as he lost his battle against AIDS. Almost blind as a result of disease, he attempted to end his life just before his 36th birthday, and died two weeks later.

1960 – Bob Paris, American bodybuilder and Gay rights advocate, born; The former Mr. Universe, and International Federation of BodyBuilders professional bodybuilder, Bob Paris is a writer, public speaker and civil rights activist. He acknowledged his sexuality in the July 1989 issue of Ironman magazine and has graced the covers of scores of magazines worldwide. After Paris officially came out as a Gay man in the media, he and his then-partner, Rod Jackson, became involved in marriage equality advocacy, started successful non-profits, lectured on a wide variety of Gay civil rights issues, and made many television, radio, newspaper and magazine appearances. The two separated in 1995. Today, Paris lives with his spouse of eleven years, Brian, on an island near Vancouver, British Columbia. Bob and Brian were legally married after Canada equalized the marriage laws in 2003.

In addition to his writing career, Bob Paris remains a committed civil rights advocate as well as a motivational speaker, model and actor. In 1998, he made his New York stage debut, starring at Carnegie Hall opposite Bea Arthur, Sandy Duncan and Tyne Daly in the Broadway musical, Jubilee as the character Mowgli. He is one of the subject of photographer Herb Ritts' gorgeous book, Duo. His official website is: http://www.bobparis.com/

1968 – Yotam Ottolenghi is an Israeli-English chef, restaurateur, and food writer. He is the co-owner of six delis and restaurants in London, as well as the author of several bestselling cookbooks, including Ottolenghi (2008), Plenty (2010), Jerusalem (2012) and Ottolenghi Simple (2018).

Ottolenghi was conscripted into the Israeli Defense Forces in 1989, serving three years in IDF intelligence headquarters. He then studied at the Adi Lautman Interdisciplinary Program for Outstanding Students of Tel Aviv University, where in 1997, he completed a combined bachelor's and master's degree in comparative literature; his thesis being on the philosophy of the photographic image. While working on his thesis, Ottolenghi served as a night copy editor for Haaretz.

In 1997, Ottolenghi and his then-partner Noam Bar moved to Amsterdam, where he edited the Hebrew section of the Dutch-Jewish weekly NIW and considered getting his doctorate in comparative literature. Instead, he moved to London to study French cooking at Le Cordon Bleu.

Ottolenghi met his partner Karl Allen in 2000; they married in 2012 and live in Camden with their two sons, Max and Flynn. In 2013, Ottolenghi "came out as a gay father" in a Guardian essay that detailed the lengthy process of conceiving Max via gestational surrogacy, an option that he believes should be more widely available to those who cannot conceive naturally.

Ottolenghi served as a pastry chef at three London restaurants: the Michelin-starred Capital Restaurant, Kensington Place, and Launceston Place in Kensington New Town. In 1999, he became head pastry chef at the artisanal pastry shop Baker and Spice, where he met the Palestinian chef Sami Tamimi, who grew up in Jerusalem's Old City. Ottolenghi and Tamimi bonded over a shared language—Hebrew—and a joint "incomprehension of traditional English food".

His debut cookbook Ottolenghi was published in 2008 and has sold over 100,000 copies. Six volumes have followed: the all-vegetable cookbooks Plenty (2010) and Plenty More (2014); Jerusalem (2012); Nopi (2015); the dessert cookbook Sweet (2017); and Ottolenghi Simple (2018).

Ottolenghi's bestselling cookbooks have proven influential, with The New York Times noting that they are "widely knocked-off for their plain-spoken instructions, puffy covers, and photographs [that Ottolenghi] oversees himself, eschewing a food stylist". In 2014, the London Evening Standard remarked that Ottolenghi had "radically rewritten the way Londoners cook and eat", and Bon Appetit wrote that he had "made the world love vegetables".

1989 – Amini Fonua is a Tongan competitive swimmer.

Fonua was born and raised in Ponsonby, Auckland, New Zealand to Tongan lawyer Sione Fonua and British-born mother Julie. He holds dual Tongan and New Zealand citizenship. His family includes two other sisters.

Fonua's swimming career began at the Roskill Swimming Club based at Cameron Pool in Auckland, coached by Sandra Burrow from 1999–2007. He broke numerous Auckland and New Zealand Age Group Records under Burrow's tenure. He then moved to West Auckland Aquatics in 2007, and was coached by Donna Bouzaid. In the Fall of 2008, Fonua enrolled at Texas A&M on a swimming scholarship. While at Texas A&M he was a peer voted Team Captain, Big XII Conference Champion, NCAA All-American, and recipient of The Aggie Heart Award. He graduated with a Telecommunication and Multi-Media degree, with a Minor in Creative Writing in May 2013.

He was the first Tongan swimmer to win a gold medal in international competition, when he took gold in the 50 metre breaststroke at the 2010 Oceania Swimming Championships.

In preparation for the 2012 London Olympics Fonua was trained by New Zealander and designated head coach for Tonga, Jon Winter. He served as his nation's flag-bearer in the 2012 Summer Olympics Parade of Nations. As a swimmer at the 2012 Summer Olympics, he competed in the Men's 100 metre breaststroke, failing to reach the semifinals.

Fonua made an international comeback at the 2015 Pacific Games in Port Moresby, Papua New Guinea. He created history by becoming the first ever Tongan athlete to ever win 3 Gold medals at a Pacific Games by sweeping the Breaststroke events, setting 2 Games Records in the process (50 m and 100 m Breaststroke). He is the only Tongan athlete in history to ever hold dual Oceania and Pacific Games titles.

Fonua is openly gay and an advocate for LGBT rights.

[kingsbride-a]

Traumerei

Summary: Theseus, former king of Athens, and Asterius, the bull of Minos, decide to make an afterlife-changing decision.

(or: a thesedia proposal fic)

Notes: This is a little headcanon heavy, so I’ll try to add notes about them at the end :~) also features some OCs I haven't drawn yet so imagine them however you'd like for now

I call this a “thesedia proposal fic” (because it is) but it also has a lot of other things. Like Theseus attending a lesbian wedding and Asterius having a sweet tooth. I’ll be writing one for Asterius too at a later date, since there’s no way I’d have both done in time for Vday 😭

~ 3821 words (sorry </3)

Warnings: some small scenes with alcohol, occasional suggestive / sexual humour, brief discussion of like misogynistic ancient greek traditions

🎵: Girlfriend (Acoustic Arrange) | Fullkawa Honpo ft. Riza

The constellations returned from the heavens to bathe within the waters of the Okeanos, and Ixion’s wheel soon joined them within the waters; it was nightfall within Elysium.

The pathway of Elysium’s main market center was lined with torches aflame, shining brightly within the darkness. A group of shades gathered near, dressed in their finest robes. Theseus himself was no exception, though he tried to keep his looks simple to avoid drawing too much attention. This event was not about himself, after all.

Soon a chariot appeared. Within it stood an Amazon from the distant land of Lydia, her muscular arms scarred from many difficult battles; Antiope, sister of Hippolyta, whom Theseus had befriended long ago . Besides her a shorter, meeker maiden wearing a veil; Anaxo, Theseus’ own childhood friend.

The couple stepped off the chariot, and towards the altar that had been prepared for them. Their eyes sparkled as they looked at one another, Antiope cupping Anaxo’s face within her palms.

“Traditional wedding vows don’t really work for a couple like us…” Anaxo eventually said, “So we both decided to create our own. My Antiope… I never expected to find love here, within the afterlife. You’ve shown me a number of new experiences, and I cherish every single one of them. ”

“Anaxo… You’re the most gorgeous fucking woman in the world” (a few chuckles arose from the crowd; Antiope was always very sincere… and very blunt) “ I feel extremely lucky we had a chance to meet, even if it had to be here in Elysium of all places. I wouldn’t trade it for the world!”

The two kissed to a round of cheers from their friends and family, and soon they all gathered elsewhere in order to share food, drink, and gifts for the brides.

"Theseus!! I'm so glad you could make it!" Anaxo barreled into Theseus with a hug, nearly knocking him over in the process.

"But of course! I would not miss this for the world." Theseus squeezed her in return, grinning all the while.

"Asterius couldn't come, hmm?"

"He feels uncomfortable at large gatherings such as this, but he did send along a gift! As did I! For you, dear Anaxo, may your days be evermore merry!"

Anaxo was quick to unwrap the gifts she’d been given; a bottle of vintage ambrosia from Theseus, and a miniature replica of Anitope’s signature poleaxe from Asterius.

Anaxo again gave Theseus a tight hug, before running off to show her gifts to her wife. It was then that a tall shadow suddenly loomed over Theseus; he turned, and was immediately met with bright red hair.

“Hippolyta?!” Theseus gawked.

“Theseus,” Hippolyta snorted, “What, did you not think I’d show up at my baby sister’s wedding?”

“Ah, no! Nothing of the sort! In fact, it’s so nice to see both you and your sister doing well! …Last I heard, you had found love with Lady Aegle! Is she here tonight?”

“She is. Last I saw, she was asking some Corinthians about the jewelry they wore. That girl loves some fashion…” Hippolyta sighed with a clear longing. Theseus’ eyes light up, seeing how obvious her affections were.

“I see! And may I ask… has tonight’s event made you think about proposing to Aegle? I’m sure she’d love an opportunity to design a dress—”

“Hey, hey. I’m the one who’s asking the questions here!” Hippolyta ruffled his hair, “Why worry about me an’ Aegle when you haven’t even popped the question to that nymph girl you’re seeing?”

At that, Theseus’ face flushed red. He had asked Dianthus to marry him, but that was so many years ago when they were both young. Nothing had come out of that promise; Theseus had returned to Oenoe far too late. But the idea did linger in his mind every now and again when he spent time with the lady in the present. Would his life be very different if he did manage to wed her back then? Or is their love made richer by the failures of the past?

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Hippolyta nudged him with her elbow, “I bet she’d say yes, if you asked.”

“Mistress Polyta, it is far too early to be thinking of such things!”

“Early?? You started treating that Minotaur like he’s your husband within days of him being within Elysium. Why not be bold with her too?”

Theseus started to squeak in defense, but he could finish his sentence Antiope began to call out to her older sister, holding a bottle of ambrosia in one hand and a massive goblet in the other.

“Haha! Looks like I should be going. Think about what I said, alright?? We’re all already dead, so why not have some fun with it?”

And Theseus did think; here within Elysium, he’d again discovered the Bull of Minos within the depths of the underworld, and with him forged a bond stronger than any steel. Asterius was his friend, his partner, and lover all at once.

Not only that, but he’d been able to rediscover a bond with the maiden of spring, Dianthus, who now worked within Elysium’s own library. To think he would find her again here, after their chance meeting upon the surface! And she was even more gorgeous, more worldly, more ravishing than she was in their shared past.

…Asterius and himself had already promised their bodies and souls to one another. Though he had times where his insecurities gripped him like a vice, he knew within the depths of his heart that Asterius would never leave his side. And he, in turn, would never leave Asterius.

Perhaps, once he returned to their home, he would discuss his thoughts with the bull.

“If that is your decision, then I support it.”

Within their shared home, Theseus had told his bullish lover what was now weighing on his mind. Dear Asterius was always so willing to listen, and yet so shy when it came to sharing his own perspective. Instinctively, Theseus reached upwards. Asterius always had such sweet reactions to having his ear scratched, his oversized head coming to rest in Theseus’ own hand.

“I do not want this to be merely my decision, Asterius! I want to know your thoughts as well! Surely you’ve dwelled on this topic, same as I. I’ve seen the way you stare at her while she tends to her garden. Or how your eyes glimmer like the heavenly stars when she leans down before you and you can peer directly at the very cute mole upon her-”

“King.”

“The point is… I would only do this if it would make you happy as well, my friend!”

Theseus watched as Asterius’ long eyelashes fluttered close. His body language may be unreadable to some, but Theseus knew it well. Here, Asterius was taking his words into consideration, and soon his ears would perk up to indicate he’d reached a conclusion.

When his eyes opened again, he gave his king a sheepish gaze.

“I do not have the same history with The Lady that you do, but she has been nothing but kind to me.” Asterius’ ears gave a slight twitch, then flapped up and down quite adorably; he was embarrassed. “...And she is very beautiful.”

“Then it is settled! Surely you’re aware, my friend, that this means you must talk to her as well!”

“I have no experience in this manner, king…”

“So you think! But you have plenty of experience with me, do you not?!” Theseus climbed into Asterius’ lap, and wrapped his arms around his broad shoulders. It only served to fluster the poor bull further, though these days he was used to how physical Theseus was. “And besides that, I will speak to her first! So by the time you have your chance, dear bull, she will already be akin to a fresh, ripe fruit, just waiting to be plucked!”

“...Hmm.”

“What is with that expression?! Ah! You took some dirty meaning from my words, didn’t you, Asterius. Didn’t you!!”

“I did not…” Asterius fussed, even as Theseus kissed his jaw.

Though the bull tried his hardest to deny it, the fact that he refused to meet his king’s gaze was proof enough. And Theseus could not help but to laugh. How rare it was for Asterius to express his desires, even if indirectly. Just another example of what a nymph’s love could do.

Theseus had long ago given Asterius a gift in honour of their union; golden bangles to wear around his horns, created in the shape of the sacred herbs his ancestor Helios used for protection against the sun’s heat. He did not wear this accessory within the arena, concerned he may damage them if he did, but when they two were together within Elysium’s marketplace, or otherwise lounging, Theseus would see them upon his horns and his heart would swell with pride. They would need something equally splendid to give to the lady, then.

Theseus asked the bull, “what type of gift would best suit Dianthus?”

Asterius replied, “You are better at choosing gifts than I.”

Such words made Theseus pout, and soon a parchment and pen was thrust into Asterius’ hands so he may draft out a concept for a ring. Theseus himself did much the same, and once they'd both finished he dragged the bull to one of Elysium’s smaller market places.

There was a shade who set up shop here who’d worked with gemstones during his life. Theseus had made his acquaintance more than once, notably after he’d retrieved Asterius from the depths of the underworld. The shade had wanted to know if the rumours were true, if the Cocytus which flowed through Erebus was truly filled with glimmering diamonds (it was).

“Greetings my good shade!” Despite being the only people there at the moment, Theseus still felt the need to make his presence known.

“King Theseus.” The shade was not yet one of the faceless masses of Elysium, but was a ghostly flicker to his form all the same. “You’ve forgotten my name again, haven’t you.”

“Of course not!” Theseus scoffed. “You are, erm. Ahem.”

“...Antheus,” Asterius supplied.

“Antheus! Yes, of course, I knew that!” Theseus nodded. “Asterius and I are in need of your aid, O Great and Noble Antheus! We seek a gift for a most beauteous and noble lady—”

“The librarian?”

“Um. Yes.” Theseus felt strangely deflated. “How did you know?”

Antheus shrugged. “Rumours travel fast here in Elysium. What exactly did you come here to request, anyways?”

Theseus pulled from his chiton a sheet of parchment, where he’d messily scribbled out a design concept. Asterius did much the same, his paper delicately rolled and tied closed with a pink ribbon. Though he tried to keep his usual cool persona, Antheus’ curiosity was obvious.

“...Theseus, I’m going to have to simplify your… very unique design. Asterius, yours is perfect as is. I’ll send message when I have these ready for you, though it may take awhile. In the meantime, go on and do whatever it is you usually do.”

(The defensive King Theseus was sure to combat the claim that his design was too complicated to complete as is, but Asterius had the sense to grab him by the shoulder and pull him out of the shop before he had a chance to.)

Life continued as usual:

The champions fought within the arena each and every time Zagreus reappeared (they had their first victory in a while; surely a good omen.)

They visited with dear friends and family, and stopped at Elysium’s many shopping booths (Asterius’ younger brother, Glaucus, took them to taste a honey from a distant land. Its richness still had yet to leave Asterius; mind even since; he’d have to go back for more sometime).

They sat with Lady Chloris within the expansive fields of Elysium, where all life around her was kept fresh and green. (Theseus informed her of what he and Asterius intended to ask of her daughter, and her eyes glittered with a joy unlike any Theseus had seen before. Somehow, it put his restless heart at ease).

And most of all, they spent time with Lady Dianthus herself. They would dwell within the expanse of her garden, enjoying the light of Ixion, or travel together through some unexplored glade of the underworld where mysteries awaited them.

And sometimes they would watch her as she worked within her kitchen, bustling to and fro and roughly chopping up various fruits.

As a special reward for her champion’s recent victory, she crafted a cake for them all to enjoy together.

(Though Dianthus loved to cook, her skill with decorating was lacking. It was Asterius, who was always so precise in his movements, who decorated instead. Theseus gave unhelpful recommendations all the while, suggesting things such as “elaborate gold leafing” and “imported fruits from lands unheard of.”)

Soon they were enjoying their bounty together, waiting as the light in Elysium’s sky dimmed. And what joy it was, to be together in this way, to feel the love that surrounded their every word or touch, even when Dianthus fussed at Asterius for taking another slice of cake (“You’ll make yourself sick!”), or when she and Asterius laughed when Theseus, ever clumsy, nearly tripped over himself while attempting to make some dramatic gesture.

And hearing the lady’s sweet laugh, he and Asterius gave one another knowing looks. A day would come where they’d be doing this all over again with the lady as their cherished bride. And how exciting the very idea was, to be able to love her in the way that she deserved!

A day came where Antheus called the king and the bull back to the shop. Theseus felt so nervous he was nearly paralyzed, but his anxiety melted away when Asterius gave his shoulder a firm squeeze. He wasn’t doing this alone.

The design for Theseus’ ring had been simplified from his original concept (though, now that he thought about it, it may have been inconvenient for the lady to have a massive diamond on her hand as she worked), but it was still gorgeous. A ring made to resemble a laurel, connected by flowering vines to a bracelet of gold leaf and morganite (it was her favourite gemstone). Asterius had opted for a simpler design, a budding rose with a ruby, the same colour as the horn paint he wore, pressed into the center.

“Thank you, Antheus. Your work is beautiful, as always.” Asterius seemed hesitant to hold the ring for longer than necessary, as if it would somehow be damaged in his large hands.

Theseus beamed, and hugged one of Asterius’ strong arms in excitement. “Truly, my good shade, this is your best work yet! I shall be sure to reward you handsomely!!”

“Just tell me how it goes with that nymph and we can call it even.”

“...Really?”

“No.” Antheus held out a hand. “Pay me money.”

“Ah. Yes. Of course.”

Theseus entered Elysium’s library (banishment be damned), and asked Dianthus if she would like to spend some time with him this day or night.

“Of course, Theseus. …But you really should leave before anyone spots you here!”

And yet, despite her words, the lady was more than willing to sneak away once she was alone. The library would survive without her, after all. Here in Elysium there was no need for her schedule to be set in stone as it may be upon the surface.

Theseus took her hand within his own, and led the way.

As if Elysium itself sensed his intentions, a gate opened up to somewhere they could be alone together. A small garden with a marble fountain bubbling with a rush of water, and several small waterfowl resting upon its gentle ripples. Dianthus sat at the fountain's edge, smoothing her skirt as she did so. Theseus sat beside her.

“My lady, I…” Theseus found himself growing nervous again. Why was this so difficult, when he’d done it many times before? What made Lady Dianthus so… different?

As he continued to be paralyzed, unable to speak, the nymph eyed him curiously. It was clear to him that she was beginning to grow concerned, which only made Theseus desperate for his usual ability to speak to return to him.

“Theseus, are you—”

“HOW. Um. H- how do you feel about marriage, Lady Dianthus?!” It was not the question he meant to ask, but he supposed it was an important one all the same. She’d spoken of it before, but never in deep terms.

He imagined she would be alarmed by his sudden question (and she was, if her expression was anything to go off of), but she soon calmed, her eyes twinkling with a smile.

"Hmm.. it's not something I've thought about for a very long time, I admit. When I was a young girl I used to dream of it. Myself, two small children, a strong and loving husband… I would never be able to picture my husband's face, though. I don't know why."

"I was proposed to in the past,” she continued, “By someone other than you, I mean, before I left Oenoe. A nobleman came from Marathon and asked my father for my hand. I was already well past marrying age, being nearly 25. It didn't take long at all for his proposal to be accepted, as I'm sure you can imagine. But I had no desire to marry him!"

Theseus nodded. "You abandoned Oenoe to avoid this union, and were thus taken in by the retinue of Dionysus!" Dianthus had told him this story before, of her time amongst the maenads. It was difficult to imagine the lady who stood before him now wearing a skin of leopard's fur and wildly thrashing about amongst satyrs and drunken spirits, but even Theseus himself had such a phase at one point. Abandoning Athens to go enjoy the splendors of Lydia's Amazons felt so childish now.

"Mhm. And that was an interesting part of my life, I admit. And now, well… it is not as if the idea of marriage has never crossed my mind. But it’s not something I ever see happening to me here within Elysium… I’ve never given it much thought.”

“My lady, I mean no offense- but that is absurd! Any shade would be fortunate to have you! A nymph who is gentle, bright, caring, and beautiful as well!”

It was with a sense of urgency that he took her hands within his own, squeezing them tightly. How he wished he would tell her the intensity of his desires! And yet, despite how his heart swelled with love, his nerves kept him from saying what he truly meant. But he would find a way- for his Lady Dianthus, he would be brave as he is within the arena.

“Erm… what I mean to say is… to have the opportunity to love you, and to do so in the way you deserve! It would be an honour. It is for this reason that I… that is, I would like to…”

It was rare for Theseus to become this quiet; usually such silence was reserved for times where Theseus felt either immense dread or immense contentment. This expression that was on his face now was not one Dianthus recognized of him; was it fear, or something else entirely?

“This is… hardly the proper way to go about this. But you, my lady, are hardly proper at all! I, um, mean that as a compliment. In fact, your improperness is why I feel able to do this, despite how much my head swims because of it!”

Theseus stood, then resettled in front of Dianthus. Her hand reached to smooth back an errant strand of blonde hair, and Theseus nearly shivered. He would not be a coward in the face of love, not when his lady had done so much for him up until this point.

“I often think of the great misfortune it was, that I could not make good on my promise to you while we were still alive. To find that kind of connection once by chance! And then even here in Elysium, to still feel it so intensely! And this time, I… I shall not allow such an opportunity to slip through my fingers! What I wanted to ask you, My Lady Dianthus is this… will you do me the great honour of becoming my bride?!”

“H-huh?! I— I mean— Oh, dear, I’m sorry, I just— I didn’t think that you’d— I mean… shouldn’t you be asking my father this, and not me?”

“Bah! Who cares what he thinks?! And besides, it is the bold, opinionated, and independent Lady Dianthus whom I desire!”

“Oh. Oh!”

Dianthus nearly melted off her spot on the fountain’s edge, joining Theseus in Elysium’s soft grass. Soon, she felt Theseus pulling her close, and found her chin resting within the crook of his shoulder. Despite his words of confidence, she could feel his hands trembling from where they rested against her body.

“It is only if you’ll have me, my lady. I… I would understand if my history makes you wary, it is true that I have been careless in the past. But I see now that my dedication to you has never once wavered, even while we were apart for those many long years. My love for you, for Asterius, for the joys Elysium has given me… it is what fills me with strength.”

Dianthus’ arms rose against him, clutching at the back of Theseus’ chiton. His shivering soon stopped as she held him secure in her soft arms.

“And you would truly take this stubborn old girl as your bride?” she whispered, soft as silk.

“Nothing would make me happier!”

“In that case… I accept.”

Dianthus didn’t think it would be possible for Theseus to hold her any tighter, and yet, as always, he found a way. His nose buried against the cockle shell of her ear, he kissed her first there, then her forehead, her cheek, before finally making his way to her lips, desperate and needy for her love, as always. When they both pulled away, he held her cheek against his hand, her gaze soft at him.

“It really is untraditional, you know. To ask a bride instead of her father.” she hummed.

“To hell with tradition!” Theseus grumbled in response, “And besides that, what fool would be opposed to his daughter being wed to a king?!”

“Former king.”

Theseus pouted in faux offense, even as Dianthus leaned forward to kiss him again. Even if Theseus was, by all technicality, no longer Athens’ king… he would still think of his lady as his lovely queen. And he would do right by her; despite the mistakes he may have made in the past, with Dianthus, he felt able to grow, and to move on. To be joyful for their future together.

A/N: The Okeanos is the star river which encircles the earth in Greek mythology. During the day, the constellations wade within the river, before their mist scatters to the sky at night. The Okeanos flows thru the underworld as well; I like to think that when the constellations are resting, it makes the underworld dark, and whenever they fly to the surface the underworld is light. Ixion is ah… a guy who got strapped to a flaming well as punishment for hitting on the goddess Hera. In addition to the thing with the constellations, his wheel dips into the Okeanos during Elysium’s “nights”

Hippolyta is Theseus first wife, an Amazon from Lydia, which is modern day Turkey

The cocytus is an underworld river. While the styx is the main river, there are several smaller ones which connect to it; the phlegethon in asphodel, the lethe in elysium, and the cocytus in erebus. Meanwhile the acheron connects the styx to the surface.

Also for clarity it was the father of the bride who gets asked about marriage and not the bride herself, thus Dia bringing it up </3

[witchthewriter]

What music do you think the knights of camelot and merlin would listen to? like if they had spotifys what would they be filled with? this is such a random thought I had omg im so sorry but id love to hear your thoughts!

I love this question!

・Merlin, Gwaine and Lancelot are diehard Whitney Houston fans

・Unholy by Sam Smith would definitely be in Arthur's and Gwaine's playlists

・They ALL love Ms Jackson by Outkast. It could probably be their group song - like when girls get excited in the club and all look at each other when their song comes on

𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧:

・He would LOVE Fleetwood Mac, especially Rhiannon and Dreams. He would turn that sh*t up and dance around the room with his eyes closed, absolutely vibing

・Kate Bush!!! Running Up That Hill!!!

・Also loves Greta Van Fleet, especially their song Heat Above

・His music taste is very indie, pop-rockesque

𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫:

・Kings of Leon, would blush when he first heard Sex on Fire but absolutely fall in love with their 'Come Around Sundown' album

・Loves House of the Rising Sun but the cover by Muse

・The Arctic Monkeys. He would have their album AM, 24/7. It drives Merlin insane

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧:

・Really likes Leonard Cohen, particularly

・One of his favourite songs is O' Children” by Nick Cave. Another is Hoist That Rag by Tom Waits

・Leon likes music that touches the part of him that he doesn't show. The deep part, the emotional part.

・LOVES MITSKI!!!! Even though Mitski talks about women's issues, Leon can feel her through the music. He feels the exact emotion that Mitski does

𝐆𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞:

・ABBA he would die anytime Dancing Queen came on. Like do this lil squeal and pull Merlin onto the dancefloor

・Loves Kylie Minogue's Spinning Around - would totally make up a dance for it

・Lana Del Rey! Oh my god he would so romanticise himself when he listens to her music

𝐋𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐭:

・This could be argued but I kinda feel like he'd love heavy metal. Like Black Sabbath, Metallica, Led Zepplin

・Would LOVE the band Idles, especially Never Fight A Man With A Perm

・Is strongly against the fact that Elvis stole a lot of songs from the black community. Elyan showed him Big Mama Thornton's original of Hound Dog and he nearly transcended when he listened to it

𝐄𝐥𝐲𝐚𝐧:

・Destiny Child - can sing Say My Name word for word. Literally has perfect timing.

・Loves loves loves soulful, passionate music that has a lot of history or a story behind it

・Young Hearts Run Free by Candi Stanton

・Labrinth; Yeah I Fcken Did It & All For Us

・Double Trouble by Otis Rush. I think Elyan would love the electric guitar, the saxophone, but I also think he'd be really good at playing an instrument?? I'm thinking the drums or maybe even piano. Like a headcanon that his father or mother made him learn it when he was young, and he hated it but later on in life it's useful

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥:

・He would love movie soundtracks/scores. Like Flying with Mother by John Powell (How to Train Your Dragon) and Dance of the Druids by Bear McCreary. He would have so much knowledge about movie scores that it shocks the other knights

・Tame Impala's One More Hour

・El Tango De Roxanne

[thewrathfulwitch]

Pyanepsia

Pyanepsia is a festival in honor to Apollo and Theseus (and perhaps Helios and the Horai). This festival was based around the panspermia, a mixture of beans and grains of many varieties, at the feast. It was in custom to tell myths and stories of Theseus.

The panspermia is founded by Theseus. He had just returned from slaying the Minotaur and wished to pay his respects to Apollo. They brought together what was left of the provisions and gave it to Apollo as an offering for his blessing for safe passage from Delos to Attica.

During Pyanepsia, boys would go around the cities chanting the eiresone song while carrying the eiresone (an olive or a laurel branch preferable, with any other fruit branch as a substition, winding the branch with unspun threads of white or purple wool and attaching pastry and fruits (especially figs) to it). There was a gift at each house they visited on this day, the eiresone being seen hung above door ways.

Hold a feast with panspermia present. Burn some for Apollo in offering, offering it to him. Avoid meat at this feast, sticking to rich bread and wine. Reading hymns to Apollo and stories of Theseus are in order as well.

Fumigation from Manna Blest Pæan, come, propitious to my pray'r,

illustrious pow'r, whom Memphian tribes revere,

Slayer of Tityus, and the God of health,

Lycorian Phœbus, fruitful source of wealth .

Spermatic, golden-lyr'd, the field from thee

receives it's constant, rich fertility.

Titanic, Grunian, Smynthian, thee I sing,

Python-destroying, hallow'd, Delphian king:

Rural, light-bearer, and the Muse's head,

noble and lovely, arm'd with arrows dread:

Far-darting, Bacchian, two-fold, and divine,

pow'r far diffused, and course oblique is thine.

O, Delian king, whose light-producing eye

views all within, and all beneath the sky:

Whose locks are gold, whose oracles are sure,

who, omens good reveal'st, and precepts pure:

Hear me entreating for the human kind,

hear, and be present with benignant mind;

For thou survey'st this boundless æther all,

and ev'ry part of this terrestrial ball

Abundant, blessed; and thy piercing sight,

extends beneath the gloomy, silent night;

Beyond the darkness, starry-ey'd, profound,

the stable roots, deep fix'd by thee are found.

The world's wide bounds, all-flourishing are thine,

thyself all the source and end divine:

'Tis thine all Nature's music to inspire,

with various-sounding, harmonising lyre;

Now the last string thou tun'ft to sweet accord,

divinely warbling now the highest chord;

Th' immortal golden lyre, now touch'd by thee,

responsive yields a Dorian melody

All Nature's tribes to thee their diff'rence owe,

and changing seasons from thy music flow

Hence, mix'd by thee in equal parts, advance

Summer and Winter in alternate dance;

This claims the highest, that the lowest string,

the Dorian measure tunes the lovely spring .

Hence by mankind, Pan-royal, two-horn'd nam'd,

emitting whistling winds thro' Syrinx fam'd;

Since to thy care, the figur'd seal's consign'd,

which stamps the world with forms of ev'ry kind.

Hear me, blest pow'r, and in these rites rejoice,

and save thy mystics with a suppliant voice.

Orphic Hymn 33 to Apollo, trans. Taylor

[searchingfor-affection]

Cherry Wine

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1080ish Soundtrack: Cherry Wine grantperez, Bog down in the Valley-O

NSFW mentions and insinuated smut

You slip your phone into your clutch, ignoring how it relentlessly buzzed with notifications. Carol stood beside you leaning against the elevator wall, a dazzling smile on her face. This was an impulsive decision, possibly a bad decision. Nonetheless, it was a decision you couldn’t bring yourself to regret as she leaned against the wall of the elevator oh so casually, hands in pockets, looking at you like you were the most gorgeous woman she had ever seen. You felt a mischievous smirk crawl across your face as you mused where this night might take you.

“So, where to Captain?” You lean against the wall opposing her. Her shoulders relax as she thinks for a second, eyeing the now empty champagne glass still in your hand, hoping you didn’t see her falter as Captain came out of your mouth. How delicious.

“Thirsty?” She questions standing and moving closer to you. Her arm gently slides over your hip. It’s your turn to falter and you wonder if she can see how you drown in desire. Warmth crawls across your cheeks, and you still feel buzzed.

"Yes, drown me."

You think for a moment, that the thought had remained just that, a thought. That is, till you hear stunned laughter, and before you can do or say anything else, you're over her shoulder. You can feel where your dress hugs your curves protesting at the sudden stretch against the material. Laughter rolls off you as you ask where she's taking you, what on earth does she think she's doing, so indecently carrying around Tony Starks niece, and oh, how your PR Team is going to have a field day if anyone catches this.

The more you say, the more you laugh. The more you laugh, the more Carol wants you. All of you, not just your body but your soul. How you could be her everything, she thinks to herself.

Before you know she's gently put you down, your back against a wall, her hands on your hips. Her lips whisper beside your ear, promises, sweet, sweet promises.

"Keep accusing me of indecency and I'll have to paint you, turn you into a true depiction of indecency."

Stunned, you feel light as a feather when she, without skipping a beat, leads you into the fluorescent light of a liquor store. Your head feels empty and your cheeks flushed as she grabs a cherry wine and pays for it. Almost as soon as you were inside the building you're out again and walking. Carol leads you first to a lush park, her hand warming yours. Thinking of it makes you shiver, did you truly only meet an hour ago.

As you go to take a seat beside her you feel her hands on your hips, guiding you to sit on her lap. Her arm is wrapped around your waist as she opens the wine, offering you the first swig. You happily oblige before throwing your arms around her.

For a while, you go back and forth. Trading stories and histories, funny and serious, the wine bottle empties as you find yourself recounting one of your favourite competitions with your uncle.

"It's an Irish drinking song and as they sing, it gets faster and faster and a line is added every verse. So what we do is, trade verses and sing the chorus together. If we fuck up the verse we have to take a shot but if we sing it perfectly the other person has to take two."

"What's the song called?" You think curiosity looks damn gorgeous on her. How the gods have blessed you this night.

"The Rattlin' Bog," You begin to sing it and find yourself misremembering lines quickly. With the bottle still in your grasp you jump up and pull her up with you, starting to sing and dance.

"Ho, ro, the rattlin' bog, The bog down in the valley-o. Real Bog, the rattlin' bog, The bog down in the valley-o.

on that tree there was a branch, A rare branch and a rattlin' branch, And the branch on the tree, And the tree in the hole, And the hole in the bog, And the bog down in the valley-o."

Laughing and giggling, you find yourself singing faster and faster, dancing faster and faster. With fingers intertwined, feet moving, breeze running through your hair, and such gorgeous eyes staring at you, you've never felt more alive.

"Where are you taking me," She laughs as you begin to jog, her hand in yours, towards an Irish pub you know is nearby and as if they knew you had entered the building they begin to play the song. Oh how you danced. Maybe not the most romantic, her hand wasn't in yours nor were they on your hips or hovering above the small of your back. Not a part of you was touching her, but her smile settled in your soul.

After dancing till the bar closed, Carol found herself being led again in a direction she didn't know to a destination she was unsure of but in your eyes, she could see, underneath that beautiful joy and elation, underneath the endorphins was that gnawing desire.

Drown me

Your sweet voice repeated in her mind as she pictured you undressing before her.

Drown me

She heard as she imagined how you would feel underneath her caress.

Drown me

She heard as she wondered how you would move beneath her tongue.

She was pulled from her musing as you led her into the apartment you were staying in. Carol left behind her wonderings as you pulled her into you. One hand on her waist, one hand on her cheek, you pressed your soft lips against hers. You felt her hands on top of your ass, grabbing as much as she could, pulling you further into her.

As you kissed, your tongues danced, her hands kneading your ass cheeks as if you were dough, soft and tender.

That night she did indeed drown you in every pleasure you could have ever known and fulfilled every desire that had been hidden from you before.

You woke up in your bed wrapped in a sheet with Carol spooning you from behind. Her arms around you though one hand gently holding your breast. The sun filtered in the through your open blinds and without a thought of the day to come you simply closed your eyes and revelled in the touch of the woman behind you.

[ichayalovesyou]

This is my carefully curated playlist based on Tumblr's favorite Mafia movie, Goncharov! It is arranged into story order but you can enjoy it on shuffle as well! Normally I color code which songs are about who, but this time around I wanted to leave it up to interpretation, although I think you might be able to tell who my favorite character is lol!

Winter In Naples

“You Need The Fear of God Put Back Into You Goncharov”

Taikatalvi by Nightwish from Imaginaerum • Ruler of Everything by Tally Hall from Marvin’s Marvelous Mechanical Museum • Birds With Broken Wings by Ben Caplan from Birds With Broken Wings • Istanbul by They Might Be Giants from Flood • The Cat Came Back by The Laurie Berkner Band from Laurie Berkner’s Favorite Kid Songs • Clint Eastwood by Gorillaz from Gorillaz • Champagne Taste by Eartha Kitt from Totally Crazy • Amar y Vivir by Carlos Rivera from Mexicano • Crazy = Genius by Panic! At The Disco from Death of a Bachelor • Farewell Wanderlust by The Amazing Devil from The Horror and the Wild • Time is Running Out by Muse from Absolution • Aha! by Imogen Heap from Ellipse • Modern Day Cain by I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME from Modern Day Cain

The Ball

“Your Husband Is As Tasteless As His Counterfeit ‘Boots’, Dear Sister”

Vampire by People In Planes from Beyond the Horizon • Don’t Mess With Me by temposhark from The Invisible Line • There’s A Good Reason These Tables Are Numbered Honey, You Just Haven’t Thought of It Yet by Panic! At The Disco from A Fever You Can’t Sweat Out • Perhaps, Perhaps, Perhaps by Daniel Boaventura & Carlos Rivera from Your Song • Careless Whisper by George Michael from Ladies & Gentlemen The Best of George Michael • Real Men by Mitski from Lush • As The World Falls Down by David Bowie from Labyrinth • I’m A Funny Dame by Eartha Kitt from The Essential Eartha Kitt • Sin un Amor by Carlos Rivera from Mexicano • Bad Romance by Lady Gaga from The Fame Monster • Señor Amante by Kika Edgar from Señor Amante • Take Me To Church by Hozier from Hozier • Disarm by The Civil Wars from The Civil Wars • Femme Fatale by Coyote Kid from The Skeleton Man • Monkeys Uptown by Iron & Wine from Kiss Each Other Clean

Two Cigarettes, One Flame

“A Perfect Pearl Need Only Circumstance, No?”

Pretty Little Head by Eliza Rickman from O, You Sinners • Runs In The Family by Amanda Palmer from Who Killed Amanda Palmer? • 551 by Dessa from Castor the Twin • Wife by Mitski from Lush • The Bed Song by Amanda Palmer from Piano Is Evil • The Moon Will Sing by The Crane Wives from Coyote Stories • Evening On the Ground (Lilith’s Song) by Iron & Wine from Woman King • Better Love by Hozier from Better Love • Arms of A Thief by Iron & Wine from Around the Well • Where Evil Grows by The Poppy Family, Terry & Susan Jacks from A Good Thing Lost: 1968-1973 • Eric by Mitski from Lush • Angie by Bert Jansch from Bert Jansch • I Want To Be Evil by Eartha Kitt from That Bad Eartha • Don’t Get My Hopes Up by S.J. Tucker from Mischief • You Made Me the Thief of Your Heart by Sinéad O’Connor from So Far: The Best of Sinéad O’Conner • Dulce Mal by The Chamanas from Dulce Mal • Don’t You Dare Forget the Sun by Get Scared from Built For Blame, Laced With Shame

The Clock

“How Can Time Be Still, And Still Running Out?”

Blindness by Metric from Fantasies • Come Away To The Water by Maroon 5 & Rozzi from The Hunger Games: Songs of District 12 And Beyond • Era Escuro by Faun from Luna • Fly Me to The Moon by Melodicka Bros. from Fly Me to the Moon (Space Rock) • Glass Heart Hymn by Paper Route from The Peace of Wild Things • Where Butterflies Never Die by Broken Iris from The Eyes of Tomorrow • I Hope Your World Is Kind by Auri from Auri • Ballad of Jeremiah Peacekeeper by Poets of the Fall from Temple Of Thought • Broken Crown by Mumford & Sons from Babel • Dirt And Roses by Rise Against from Avengers Assemble • Marked Man by Mieka Pauley from The Science of Making Choices • If I Had A Heart by Fever Ray from Fever Ray • I Think I Smell A Rat by The White Stripes from White Blood Cells • Paranoid Android by Radiohead from OK Computer • Cool by Ansel Elgort & Mike Faist from West Side Story • That’s My Boy by Vast from Turquoise & Crimson

Ambrosia, The Blood of The Gods

“I’m Gonna Kill That Mario!”

Familia by Nicki Minaj, Angel AA & Bantu from Spider-Man: Into The Spiderverse • Onward & Upward by Tommee Profitt & Fleurie from Gloria Regali • The Horror and The Wild by The Amazing Devil from The Horror and the Wild • Breaking the Law by Judas Priest from British Steel • I’m Always Walking as Somebody Else from American Murder Song from Murder Ballads of 1816: The Year Without A Summer • The House Of The Dead by NADA5150 & Mr.Kitty from The House Of The Dead • Adore Me by StarKid Productions from Black Friday • Kill My Friends by gP. from Kill My Friends • 7 Rings by ChuggaBoom from 7 Rings • Heavy Rain by Youth Man from New Moons Vol.1 • Loki by The Mechanisms from The Bifrost Incident • Warflower by The Mayan Factor from In Lake Ch’ • Dead Butterflies by Architects from Meteor • Man or a Monster by Sam Tinnesz & Zayde Wolf from Man or a Monster • The Weeping Song by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds from The Good Son

The Bridge

“If We Really Were In Love You Wouldn’t Have Missed”

What Love Can Heartbreak Allow by Ben Caplan from Old Stock • The Wolf by PHILDEL from The Disappearance of the Girl • Animal Impulses by IAMX from The Unified Field • Don’t Make Me by MALINDA from Don’t Make Me • Shout by Tears for Fears from Songs From The Big Chair • Don’t Call Me Angel by Ariana Grander, Miley Cyrus & Lana Del Rey from Charlie’s Angels • Heaven Knows by The Pretty Reckless from Going to Hell • Castle by Halsey from BADLANDS • Mineshaft 2 by Dessa from Castor, the Twin • Die Anywhere Else by Julia Henderson & Lorenzo de Sequera from Dusk • A Death by an Unkindness from 4 Songs • Despedida by Antonio Pinto & Shakira from Love In The Time of Cholera • Daughter of the Sea by Sharm & Alison M. Sparrow from Daughter of The Sea • Jane Doe by Hail The Sun from Wake • Bag of Bones by Mitski from Lush • Girl Into Devil (I Belong to Me) by S.J. Tucker from Stolen Season

The Train

“We Could Burn It All Down”

Panacea For The Poison by Flobots from Survivor Story • Here Come the Ravens by Aviators from Dystopian Fiction • All Night Long by Peter Murphy from Love Hysteria • A Sadness Runs Through Him by The Hoosiers from The Trick To Life • The Deep by PHILDEL from Wave Your Flags • Irish Hour by Saint Sister from Where I Should End • There Is Still Time by Lorn from The Maze to Nowhere • Happy by Mitski from Puberty 2 • Burned Out by dodie from Human • Where To Begin by Adam Watts from When a Heart Wakes Up • Hungry Like the Wolf by Hidden Citizens & Tim Halperin from Reawakenings • Dark Matter by Les Friction from Dark Matter • I Found by Amber Run from 5AM • The Hearse (Stripped) by Matt Maeson from Bank On The Funeral • The Wolf in Your Darkest Room by Matthew Mayfield from Recoil • The Devil Wears A Suit by Kate Miller-Heidke from Nightflight • Sinking Ship by CAKE from Sinking Ship • Lessons by SOHN from Tremors • Black Sun by Death Cab for Cutie from Black Sun • Die Today by The Txlips Band & Guitar Gabby from Queens of A New Age • Blood Moon by Saint Sister from Madrid • Cinder and Smoke by Iron & Wine from Our Endless Numbered Days • Girl With One Eye by Florence + The Machine from Lungs

The Apple

“Tell Them I’m Sorry, For I Have No Sorrow Left to Give”

The Wanting Comes In Waves/Repaid by The Decemberists from Hazards of Love • Conversations at the End of the World by Kishi Bashi from String Quartet Live • My Way by Chase Holfelder from Major to Minor Vol.2 • We Are Your Nightmares by Cast of Nevermore from Nevermore: The Imaginary Life & Mysterious Death of Edgar Allan Poe • Oh Death by Noah Gunderson from Saints & Liars • The Coldest Goodbye by Mary Kate Wiles from Spies Are Forever • Cathedrals by Jump. Little Children from Magazine • Carry Me Out by Mitski from Bury Me At Makeout Creek • Ghosts With Heartbeats by Plastic Patina from Ghosts With Heartbeats • Blood by My Chemical Romance from The Black Parade

“The film is gone, the only proof thereof Upon a boot, a tag mark’d Goncharov...”

Quotes from the movie Goncharov (1973) provided through art by: @theshitpostcalligrapher @when-sanpape-arts @inthefallofasparrow @not-the-blue @cloudmancy

[moondal514]

Just Leave a Comment Fest 2024 4/20 Mini Edition

Final overall comment total for @justleaveacommentfest: 23

Here’s a multi-fandom fic rec list of a few of the fics I read , loved, and commented on that were on theme for each day of the fest:

Day 1: wips

Fandom: Tian Guan Ci Fu

JUN WU SOCIAL REINTEGRATION THERAPY ATTEMPT NUMBER ONE, FOR FUN (AND FOR PROFIT) by VampireFaun/ @vampirefaun (WIP)

Mei Nianqing INSISTS that Jun Wu can get better! All he needs is a comfortable hut, and a few calming medicinal herbs, and a job, and a bunch of group meetings where he talks to others about his problems, and a few fun outings, and Mei Nianqing to keep him out of trouble, and…the approval of the heavenly court, once he informs them of this arrangement…eventually…

Jun Wu wishes Mei Nianqing had just left him sealed under the mountain.

The Jun Wu redemption fic I didn’t know I needed

Fandom: Mysterious Lotus Casebook

The Spring Poplars of Summer by Aerlalaith, reasonablyaloof/ @aerlalaith, @themagicwhiskers

“Well?” Di Feisheng rumbled.

“Ah,” Li Lianhua said, now sounding short of breath. “Well, if Di-Mengzhu is recalling the sweet promises we made to one another after drinking the wedding wine then I guess—”

Fang Duobing froze. The what promises made to who after the what?

(Fang Duobing eavesdrops, comes to several incorrect conclusions, and can’t stop drinking vinegar about it. Or thinking about it. Or—)

Hilarious and perfect post-canon ot3 get-together fic

Day 2: modern au’s

Fandom: Mo Dao Zu Shi

a life in your shape by occultings/ @microcomets

Wei Ying confesses his feelings in the bathroom of a sushi restaurant. Not to who you might initially think, but he gets there in the end.

So cute, I had to use all my strength not to squeal in public while reading this

Fandom: BBC Merlin

The Fools Will Be Still Fools by horsecrazy/ @cbk1000

In which the gang goes on a luxury train holiday, and Merlin and Arthur share a cabin and a double bed, but not a single brain cell.

A hilarious and beautifully written idiots to lovers story that soothes the soul

Day 3: read a fic, send a fic

Fandom: Greek Mythology

books & boys (they bring me so much joy) by skazka

Sing, o Muse, of the wrath of a philosophy major upon realizing his roommate/boyfriend has borrowed his copy of Fear & Trembling and has no intention of giving it back. Scenes from one highly troubled semester.

I’m still dying over the idea of Achilles as a frat boy

Fandom: Good Omens

i love(d) you by extraordinarilyextreme/ @extraordinarilyextreme

This is everything they’ve poured into their Force-bond, every mission they’ve gone on together, every chat and meal and mediation and training session; they are two sides of the same blade. There is no Crowley without Aziraphale, no Aziraphale without Crowley.

(or, a Jedi Knight who has lost his faith in the Force and a Sith Lord who clings desperately to it.)

Never seen a fic so tailor-made for me to rec to one of my friends

[gabykatttt]

The one that got away

This song is for you Veneer Pamenilia said and started singing.

Pamenilia 🎶🎤

Summer after high school when we first met

We make out in your Mustang to Radiohead

And on my 18th birthday we got matching tattoos

Used to steal your parents' liquor and climb to the roof

Talk about our future like we had a clue

Never planned that one day, I'd be losing you

In another life

I would be your girl

We keep all our promises

Be us against the world

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say

You were the one that got away

The one that got away

I was June and you were my Johnny Cash

Never one without the other we made a pact

Sometimes when I miss you

I put those records on

Someone said you had your tattoo removed

Saw you downtown singing the blues

Its time to face the music

I'm no longer your muse

In another life

I would be your girl

We keep all our promises

Be us against the world

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say

You were the one that got away

The one that got away

The o-o-o-o-o-one

The o-o-o-o-o-one

The o-o-o-o-o-one

The one that got away

I'm falling for you like dominoes

From the top of the hundredth floor

Look out below Geronimo

Tryin' to get behind the closed doors to your soul

Why'd you have to end the show

We had such a beautiful plot

There was still more story to go

Now look, I'm not insinuating that

You're some type of fair weather player

But even if the whole world falls over

I wouldn't be aware of a glacier

I just wanna see you wake up

Doing your hair in the mirror with your makeup

Then, maybe in the next lifetime we could make up

In another life

I would be your girl

We keep all our promises

Be us against the world

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say

You were the one that got away

The one that got away

The o-o-o-o-o-one

The o-o-o-o-o-one

The o-o-o-o-o-one

In another life

I would make you stay

So I don't have to say

You were the one that got away

The one that got away.

Pamenilia finished recording and started crying in tears.

I love you Veneer Pamenilia said crying even more.