#blisters in the pit of my heart

[crushmeeren]

Bakugou/Fem Reader/Kirishima

☠ Master List Link

Warnings; some mild descriptions of fighting/being in pain, brief mentions of blood, cursing, praise/reader is called a good girl, oral sex, mating press

☠ Everyone involved is 18+/aged up

It’s boiling.

Fucking sweltering.

Your eyes snap open, the stifling heat stirring you into a reluctant form of consciousness.

You glance down, only to be met with a face full of damp red hair that could only belong to your boyfriend Eijirou.

Who apparently has taken it upon himself to use your shoulder as a pillow.

The man is a goddamn furnace.

Of course, you’re privy as to why he’s so feverish. It’s the same burning itch that lurks just below the surface of your own skin.

This past week you’ve been counting down the days until the full moon — and there’s only one left.

Plus, it’s only Eijirou’s third time dealing with his shift — so his control over his body is shaky at best.

Katsuki being the pack leader, has much more experience and insight dealing with the shift than you do.

Hence the reason you’ve all made sure he’ll be home tomorrow night to ensure it goes smoothly.

Groaning, you unstick yourself from the entirely too sweaty body clinging to you. Your nose scrunches in discomfort as you unwind the hefty weight of Eijirou’s arm from your waist and untangle your legs.

You shove at Eijirou’s shoulder, mumbling for him to get his heavy ass off.

Said man doesn’t stir, softly sighing and turning over to face the wall.

Limbs sluggish with sleep you push up onto your elbows, then up until you’re sitting on your butt.

You kick off the suffocating covers and lean backwards onto the headboard in hopes for better airflow to cool off.

It would be unbelievably helpful to have Todoroki’s quirk right now.

You decide to study the room to distract yourself, admiring the way the moonlight has bled in. Illuminating certain shapes as you bask in the peaceful stillness of the night.

It’s not as if the darkness hinders you either way. Seeing as your eyesight is just as sharp in the night.

What with your…..condition.

Using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off of your forehead your thoughts trail to Katsuki. Curious as to how his patrol is fairing.

You lean over and tap the screen of your phone where it rests on your side table.

The light from the screen is on the edge of blinding, making you wince and partially shield your eyes.

Why the fuck do I keep it so bright?

You fumble to put it in dark mode, reading the last vague and aggressive message Katsuki sent.

Katsuki 🧡

“I’d rather chew off my own motherfucking arm than be on patrol with icy hot right now.”

A startled bark of laughter pushes past your lips.

Eijirou shifts restlessly behind you, but you pay him no mind. He tosses and turns frequently in his sleep this close to shifting.

You read over the text again. You know Katsuki doesn’t mean that. He and Todoroki are fairly decent friends these days.

You reply swiftly.

After setting your phone down and scooting underneath the blankets, you promptly flop onto your back in an attempt to get comfortable.

You debate whether or not to cuddle up to Eijirou, but decide against it. Waking up drenched in sweat does not appeal to you.

As you start to drift off, the rhythmic lull of crickets outside your window helps your mind quiet once again. Lids drooping as your breathing begins to even out.

Crack.

You blink a few times in rapid succession, instantly on guard. You cautiously stay still, ears twitching and listening for the familiar sound.

Crack.

A blistering chill rushes through your blood as you recognize the unwanted tell tale sound of bones breaking.

Crack. Snap!

Your pulse jackrabbits so violently your heart may bruise your rib cage.

Please for the love of God don’t let this be what I think it is. The full moon isn’t until tomorrow night!

Eijirou suddenly cries out. A keening, wounded noise that’s wrenched from the pits of his chest.

Before you can register it, you’re sitting up straight. Spine stiffening as you turn and watch Eijirou with mounting horror.

It’s not unlike witnessing twin snakes slithering, shifting urgently as Eijirou’s own spine breaks and rearranges for a body that’s far less human.

“Ei,” you whisper frantically, by his side in an instant. Your chest squeezes, adrenaline forcing the hair on your arms to stand on end. You shake his shoulder roughly, brushing the hair that’s sticking to his forehead away with your free hand. “Eijirou.”

He whines a jumbled version of your name before going stock still. You freeze alongside him, hyper aware of your shuddering exhales.

Dread settles over you, stomach dropping as you listen to Eijirou’s newly forming claws rip and shred the sheet next to him.

A low rumble starts up in his chest, slowly clawing its way up to emanate from his throat.

Your stomach knots up realizing it’s too late for you to help him keep even a sliver of coherence through this.

Your fingers unwillingly twitch where they’re tangled in Eijirou’s hair. His growl intensifies, a stiff warning embedded in it.

Hands shaking, you carefully shift your gaze down to his side profile, catching the untamed fury twisting his features.

It’s abhorrent and unnatural the way it replaces his normal cheerfulness.

The sudden fierce instinctive urge to fight Eijirou knocks around inside your mind so roughly you get lightheaded.

Eijirou’s already side eyeing you menacingly. His iris glows a pale yellow rather than the cherry red it usually is.

There’s a few seconds of silence, tension suffocating as you weigh your only two options.

Fight or flight?

With no hesitation, you lunge towards the side table closest to you. Barely managing to grab your phone as you start launching to your feet to get away.

Eijirou’s claws sink in brutally, taking a decent chunk from your outer thigh as you skirt out of his deadly range.

The explosive searing sensation of your flesh ripping wrenches all the air from your lungs.

Crimson sprays the otherwise pristine sheets as you stagger upright to your feet.

You whip around with a snarl that bounces off your bedroom walls. Anger making your entire body flash white hot.

The instinctual pulse to return the favor and give Eijirou a nasty scar is all consuming and you know your own eyes are flashing yellow.

Eijirou leaps towards you without missing a beat and you all but sprint through the door. Slamming it shut and twisting the lock right as the redhead rams into it.

It locks from the outside for a reason.

You stumble forward, struggling to ignore the borderline unbearable pain lancing through your leg and place a hand on the couch to steady yourself.

Your mind races, warm liquid trailing from your wound down your leg and pooling between your toes. You want to gag.

You can’t fucking think straight.

You squeeze your eyes shut. Taking a singular fortifying breath as you clench your phone in a fist.

The sides start to give and it reminds you not to obliterate the thing, as well as why you snagged it in the first place — to text Katsuki so you have a chance in hell of coming out this night alive.

With trembling hands you text the blonde a short yet urgent message.

Eijirou is shifting. 911. Hurry.

A deafening bang makes you jump a foot into the air, nails automatically sharpening into points.

You chance a peak at the door. Fear prickles at the base of your skull as the behemoth on the other side splinters it down the middle.

You briefly recall when Eijirou turned 21, shifting for the first time.

It was only a mere three months ago. He was the last one out of the three of you to do so, but he wasn’t as violent as he is now.

It was messy and there were a lot of tears, but you’d trade this scenario for that one in a heartbeat.

Shifting is always erratic in the beginning, but you were sure Eijirou would be the more laid back type.

Apparently not.

You shake your head to clear the unhelpful memories when Eijirou’s frustrated howl cuts through them.

You glance at the front door with a scowl. You can’t very well go outside and take a half shifted, out of control werewolf into the neighborhood.

You’re not even wearing any damn pants.

You veto the forest as an option as well. Mainly because Katsuki will inevitably find you and Eijirou torn to pieces before the sun rises.

Steeling your resolve, you submit to the fact that you’ll have to put up as much of a fight against Eijirou as you’re able to until Katsuki saves you.

The deep gashes in your thigh scream in protest when you shuffle behind the coffee table, placing the couch and it between you and the door.

You preemptively mourn the loss of your phone and toss it aside, bracing yourself in a defensive stance.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

Any second now.

The door is on its last legs.

One more heave and it splits entirely, debris flying in all directions. Eijirou forces his body through the opening, face distorted, half shifted with claws and fangs to match.

He snarls furiously when his gaze lands on your defensive form. You return the sentiment, making him aware you’re challenging him.

The icy sensation of fear continues to rush through your limbs, mixing dangerously with a barely suppressed fury that you’re unable to ignore.

You curse any and everything known to mankind and pray you’re able to keep him contained until Katsuki arrives.

Biting the bullet you take a running start towards Eijirou, sidestepping the coffee table. You’re hell bent on getting the first punch in.

His reflexes mirror yours. Using the backrest of the couch to jump and propel himself at you like a shot.

The collision is excruciating. One of your ribs has cracked from the force — you’re sure of it.

Eijirou’s got enough weight on you that the impact sends you both careening backwards, slamming onto the coffee table before rolling off with a thump as you connect with the ground.

Eijirou crushes you when you land and you shove a palm into his cheek and wrench his head to the side.

You desperately sink your teeth into the muscle where Eijirou’s neck meets his shoulder, hoping the pain will allow him to snap out of it.

He wails, the sound distorted from mutating vocal chords. He thrashes in your grip. Tearing away and ripping his flesh in the process.

The metallic scent chokes you. Blood is splattered everywhere, and your brain is starting to get fuzzy a long the edges as you lose yourself to the wolf.

Somehow, you’re able to tuck your feet under Eijirou’s stomach. Pressing into the firm muscle there and sending him flying.

You scramble to your feet, crouching low. Your upper lip raises to bare your teeth, aiming a violent snarl at Eijirou. The red head is on his hands and knees in an instant.

You’re royally pissed — and simultaneously terrified.

You don’t want to endure this atrocious situation any longer than absolutely necessary.

Sucking air back into your lungs your chest heaves, eyes fluttering shut before refocusing on Eijirou with intensity.

Like a mantra, you repeat to yourself just survive until Katsuki is here. Just survive until Katsuki is here.

You and Eijirou once again morph into a mess of blood and punches and viscious bites, hanging onto your consciousness by a thread.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

Your head pounds. Wickedly throbbing in time with your heartbeat. Your brain seems to stick to the insides of your skull.

The wind whistles softly around you, tickling your skin and you realize you’re outside. Naked.

Peeling your eyes open, the cloudless blue sky burns as it peaks through the tree tops. You blink a few times to clear your blurry vision, shifting slightly on your back.

You’re positive you must’ve been run over by a truck. The all over bone deep ache is proof by itself.

Sighing, you concede to the soreness that begs you to keep lounging on the ground. Joints creaking when you bend your elbow, you brush over the close to healed claw marks on your thigh.

The wound smarts, a searing heat flaring down your leg.

Fuck Eijirou, you really did a number on me.

You go limp, melting into the soft grass and damp top layer of soil for a bit longer.

Bits and pieces of your memory spring to the forefront as you contemplate the utter bullshit you had to deal with the night before.

Katsuki appearing like a bat out of hell when he burst through the door and rescued you from certain doom.

Eijirou completing his shift and settling into the form of a beautiful russet colored wolf.

Katsuki’s carmine eyes aglow as he and Eijirou duked it out — until he was able to corral the other down into the basement.

Katsuki had locked the door with finality, and you knew you wouldn’t see either of them for hours.

You remember shivering with rage, bloody and damn near beaten to a pulp. Pulling splinters from way too many sensitive areas.

You had taken off into the woods right after, bearing the excruciating shift and running for miles as the wolf.

Now, here you are.

Naked and internally debating with yourself to get the hell up and make the horrendous trek back to your home.

Honestly, you don’t want to see either of them right now. Eijirou will be distraught with guilt and it’s just —

You’re still irate about the entire ordeal.

You curse aloud, pushing to your feet at a snails pace. Gently stretching and taking note of the new bruises you’re sporting.

There’s a lot of dried blood.

A lot.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

Once you make it back into your living room, you’re not at all shocked to see the mess from the night before had miraculously disappeared.

The pathetic remains of the bedroom door have been taken away. All the blood has been cleaned.

At least your coffee table survived the battle.

You sigh in relief. Thank God for Katsuki, he would never dream of leaving a crime scene behind.

Sniffing the air, the familiar scents of your partners have gone stale. They must not have wanted to linger, opting to give you some space.

You’re grateful. As it allows you time to shower and sleep.

You scrub your skin under the spray of hot water. Collecting your thoughts as you comb the birds nest that has become your hair. Wincing each time you press too hard on a bruise or soap stings your wounds.

Hopefully you’ll be mostly healed by the time you wake up.

A soft warmth blooms in your chest when you reach your bed.

Eijirou has left you one of his T-shirts to wear and Katsuki’s favorite blanket is tangled in with the others.

And one of them had found your missing phone, placing it on the charger and letting it rest on the side table.

You’re a zombie slipping into Eijirou’s too large shirt. The thinning, worn, and soft material brushes your thighs.

When you lay down, you bring the collar of Eijirou’s shirt to your nose, inhaling deeply and letting the scent of fresh rainfall wash over you.

You pull Katsuki’s blanket up over your shoulders. The sweet smell of orange and cinnamon fills your senses, relaxing you entirely.

You’re out like a light before you know it.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

They come home late into the afternoon. Obnoxiously loud and cheerful — at least on Eijirou’s part.

Your stomach clenches as their voices grow closer.

You’ve been resting as much as possible, cuddled up and barely paying attention to the movie flickering across the screen.

You’d taken the past few hours to reflect. As you cooled off you knew it wasn’t really Eijirou’s fault, that he was just as petrified as you had been.

It’s not as if you’d never gone off the deep end in the beginning, and Eijirou was there for you. With no hesitation.

You made up your mind that reconciling with Eijirou was your first priority when they returned.

Eijirou passes through the makeshift curtain door first. His eyes get comically large, footsteps halting when he spots you.

The short silence is unpleasant, and Eijirou shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot. Unsure of what he should do next.

You offer him an awkward, tight lipped smile, along with a small wave and his tense composure disintegrates.

Within the second he’s making haste to crawl up on the bed and get to you.

All the built up frustration bubbles to the surface, stinging the backs of your eyes as you fist the blanket.

“Baby,” Eijirou breathes, voice cracking as you sit up and slip your arms around his neck when he reaches you.

He tugs you close, clinging to your waist with one arm and cradling the base of your skull with his free hand to keep you in place.

You swallow a lump, inhaling against the skin of his throat deeply as he manages to make you feel safe and relieved.

“I’m so sorry baby, I’m so fucking sorry,” he croaks. You’re concerned he may start crying.

You nod jerkily, gripping him tighter. You hate the way his voice shakes as he apologizes.

This wasn’t his fault and you’re determined to make sure he knows that.

“It’s okay Ei. I know baby, I know. This isn’t on you, okay?” You reassure him, voice watery with emotion.

Eijirou chokes out an acknowledgement, sniffling.

Katsuki then takes a seat on the bed behind you, rubbing a warm palm back and forth between your shoulder blades in comfort. He places a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

The three of you sit there and hash out the night before. Spending a good half hour at least, talking through everything. Brainstorming ways to prevent this from occurring again.

The conversation eventually trails off into a comfortable silence before Katsuki opens his mouth.

“You take off into the woods last night?” Katsuki asks somberly.

“Yeah.”

Your response gets muffled by Eijirou’s shirt. Katsuki snorts.

“Well, you sure as hell look like it,” he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. It works.

You whip your head around to glare daggers at Katsuki but he’s giving you a teasing smile, nudging you playfully.

You punch his stomach halfheartedly, unable to stop your lips from turning upwards.

“Whatever, dickpunch.”

Eijirou laughs, causing Katsuki to roll his eyes and chuckle at your childish insult.

You study Eijirou rubbing his cheek as you recline into Katsuki’s chest, his soothing warmth seeping through both your shirts.

“So are you really okay?” Eijirou prods, scratching the side of his nose and looking away with a frown.

“I’m fine Ei,” you murmur tenderly. You stretch your leg out, showing him the side of your thigh where the marks have mostly faded. “See? It’s just a scar now, which will go away soon.” You poke his ribs with your toes.

Eijirou’s expression spells relief as he brushes the pads of his fingertips feather light over the raised pinkish skin.

You shiver from the ticklish sensation, a flash of arousal burning your lower belly.

Eijirou’s eyes are warm when they meet yours, lids drooping a bit when he notices your shiver.

The blonde must have picked up on the new charge in the atmosphere, because Katsuki leans in close to whisper something sultry in your ear, making you jolt.

“What do you think baby?” Katsuki hums, securing an arm around your waist. “Eijirou’s been so fucking bad, we should punish him. Don’t you think?” He suggests enticingly, acting as the devil on your shoulder.

You glance back at the redhead, who’s gone slack jawed, cheeks flushing bubblegum pink. Your eyebrow twitches as you pretend to mull it over.

Trailing your eyes up and down Eijirou’s figure lazily, he fidgets in place, fingers curling into the hem of his shorts.

You think it’s the perfect way to get things back to normal.

You tilt your head, making heated eye contact with Katsuki. A coy grin lights up your face.

“What did you have in mind?”

The mischievous glint in Katsuki’s eye is answer enough.

✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃ ✃

“Fuck! Katsuki, oh god,” you gasp, breath hitching in your throat.

Katsuki’s eagerly pushing his thick cock into your pussy, spitting out a few curses as he does so.

The stretch is delicious, and you squeeze his forearms mercilessly. Nails creating indentations as he teasingly pulls back until just the head remains, rolling his hips and filling you to the brim with one fluid motion.

Your spine arches, skull digging into the mattress below as Katsuki starts thrusting at a leisurely pace, thumb coming up to work slow circles into your clit.

At this angle, you have an upside down view of Eijirou sitting behind you, reclining halfway up against the headboard.

Katsuki took it upon himself to spread you out flat on your back between the redhead’s thighs.

He taunted Eijirou with an arrogant smirk. Meanly instructing him he isn’t allowed to cum until you and Katsuki do.

Katsuki demands Eijirou only touch you if you initiate it first. And you agreed.

So for now, Eijirou’s pouting. Settling on wrapping one hand around the base of his cock, stroking slowly as he leers at the scene in front of him. Trying to avoid splitting his lip with razor sharp teeth.

You’re able to meet his hungry gaze briefly, before fingers are gripping your chin and yanking you from the gorgeous view.

“Don’t fucking look at Ei. He’s in trouble, remember?” Katsuki huffs, a bead of sweat trailing from his temple down to his jaw. “Keep those eyes on me.” Katsuki says firmly, voice raspy and low.

You nod stiffly, whimpering when he releases you and pats your cheek just this side of too rough.

“You follow orders so well, what a good girl,” Katsuki praises, leaning back and sitting on his calves.

His sweet words have your head filled with cotton.

You lick your chapped bottom lip as you’re blessed with the view of Katsuki’s lower stomach flexing and his hips tensing.

The blonde shoots Eijirou a nasty grin, making absolutely sure Eijirou can watch everything.

Like the way the inner lips of your pussy stretch with Katsuki’s cock every time he thrusts backwards.

Or the way you can tell his cock is shiny with your slick each time he pulls out.

Katsuki grips the bottoms of your thighs, effortlessly pushing them towards your chest, bending you in half.

You cry out, eyes going wide when Katsuki suddenly nails your sweet spot. The pleasure blisters through your limbs, goosebumps littering your arms.

Blindly, you reach backwards, searching for Eijirou’s hands.

The redhead lets out a breathy moan, quickly lacing your fingers together and resting your conjoined hands on his thighs.

“You can only fucking touch her hands Ei. Don’t push it.” Katsuki warns with a surprisingly steady, yet strained voice. Considering he’s fucking you like he’s trying to make you scream yourself hoarse.

“Yes Katsuki,” Eijirou replies obediently, throat clicking audibly when he swallows.

Katsuki presses closer, pupils dilated and jaw hanging open as he brings you closer to that addictive high. His eyebrows pinch together as he focuses on you.

Shocks of pleasure race up your spine each time he pushes his cock back inside you, the sound of your skin smacking together burning your ears.

A coil starts to wind up behind your belly button impossibly tight, pussy clenching around him rhythmically.

You hold Eijirou’s hands in a death grip.

“Kat, I — fuck! I’m gonna cum,” you manage to spit out between gritted teeth, back threatening to lift off the mattress.

“Yeah?” Katsuki coos teasingly. “Fucking cum for me then.”

And you do. Muscles going taught, tension snapping as warmth gushes through you, toes curling.

You can’t make out what Eijirou’s mumbling behind you, focused on the way Katsuki’s gasping your name.

The blonde lets out a breathy moan, pulling out and stroking his cock twice before he cums, covering your stomach in sticky white ribbons.

You go lax, unmoving as your legs hit the mattress. Trying desperately to catch your breath as Eijirou let’s go of your hands.

“Fuck, please let me cum Katsuki! This isn’t fair!” Eijirou whines, one of his knees knocking you in the shoulder as he shifts his weight around.

You can’t see him but you know he’s pouting.

“Alright Eijirou, you can cum,” Katsuki says nonchalantly. He sits back on his calves, flushed chest heaving.

You flip over onto your belly just as Eijirou takes a hold of himself. He strokes his cock a few times, squirming with relief and you make the choice to help him out.

Eijirou’s close to peaking when you close the distance between you.

You duck your head, wrapping your lips around one of his balls and suck it softly into your mouth, flicking it with your tongue. You roll the other one between your fingers.

Eijirou yelps, thighs jumping as he cums instantly, making a mess of his stomach as his breath stutters in his chest. He tilts his head back with a high pitched moan.

Katsuki makes an approving sound from somewhere behind you as you keep mouthing at Eijirou, only backing off when the redhead pushes at your forehead when he gets too sensitive.

Eijirou sinks down the headboard, blushing brightly and panting. You pillow your cheek on his thigh, eyes fluttering shut with a sigh.

Eventually, Katsuki kicks both your asses into gear. Getting you off the bed and shuffled into the shower to clean yourselves off.

You change the sheets because they’re fucking gross — as Katsuki puts it.

As you’re getting dressed again, Eijirou comes up behind you. Slipping his arms around your waist in a sweet hug.

“Everything fucking sorted now?” Katsuki asks with a roll of his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans his hip on the doorframe. He eyes the embrace you’re locked in and raises an eyebrow.

“Course! Everything’s peachy,” Eijirou replies happily, nuzzling the back of your head as a low rumble starts up in his chest.

You snicker, patting one of the arms holding you.

“Good, because I don’t feel like getting my ass handed to me again,” you say playfully.

Eijirou laughs brightly and Katsuki snorts.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m locking his dumbass in the basement tonight.”

[philistiniphagottini]

To the Anon that came into my inbox the other day and suggested that Boothill had vibrating fingers. I couldn't stop thinking about it. This one's for you baby cakes <3

cw. smut, fingering (fem receiving), boothill's vibrating fingers, squirting, smidge of oral at the end, female reader, MDNI

"Holy fudge" Boothill drawled.

His words were followed by a soft whistle as he cooed your name, the soft metallic whir in his voice causing a pleasant tingle to ripple down your spine. You shivered beneath him, blood simmering hotly beneath the cold press of his metal body as he hovered over you, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes as he watched your pussy swallow two of his fingers with rapt attention.

The tips of your ears burned red hot at the way your drooling cunt slobbered filthy around his vibrating fingers, warmth curling in the pit of your stomach as he buried his fingers all the way to the knuckle inside of you. A salacious moan bubbled up your throat as your long lashes fluttered over your burning cheeks, eyes hooded by Boothill’s favoured hat as it was pulled low over your eyes. Your thighs trembled as long wisps of his hair tickled your bare skin, goosebumps erupting along your arms despite the searing heat of your flesh. The sweat soaked bedsheets clung to your clammy skin as you pulled the material taut between your fingers, nails threatening to rip holes as the knot in your stomach twisted tighter. Your toes curled into the soles of your feet as Boothill massaged his fingers against your soused walls, your plush insides fluttering and pulsing as a third finger teased your sopping hole.

"Good girl" Boothill praised as he soothed his free hand along your hip, fingers digging into the soft pudge of your stomach as he watched your pussy struggle to take another one of his pulsing fingers. "Taking me so well, darl."

You could almost hear the neurons in his brain firing as the circuits in his inorganic body thrummed with energy, the pulsing of his fingers slowly intensifying as he poked and prodded your velvety walls until he found the blistering, gummy patch inside of you that made stars swirl in your vision. You shrieked loudly as a third finger pushed inside of you, a pleasant burn aching between your thighs as more slick dribbled from your pussy, translucent pearls staining the insides of your soft thighs as the beads of your arousal drizzled from your centre. You struggled to peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth long enough to form a coherent sentence, your head feeling dizzy as you tried to keep your eyes uncrossed and prevent them from rolling into the back of your head from the sheer bliss. You swallowed the budding saliva in your mouth, tasting the desire in the back of your throat as your bruised lips parted around his name.

"Boothill…please" you softly begged.

Your poor, neglected clit twitched and ached for attention, the heat simmering in your belly stoked into fiercer flames as Boothill pumped his thick fingers inside of you, your slippery pussy making the slide so much easier as he abused your soft spots with the tips of his fingers. A grin pulled at his lips as he flashed his pointed teeth at you, his tongue peeking out between the seam of his lips as your voice graced his ears like a chime from a shimmering bell.

"Please what, darl? Come on, use your words, pretty girl."

You almost choked on your words as the vibration of his fingers were knocked a notch higher yet again. Your heart droned in your ears like the loud beat of a drum, your pussy squelching noisily as you threw your head back with a piercing cry, your back curved into a beautiful arch as your lungs pinched in your chest. Boothill couldn’t wipe the smirk off his face as he watched your chest heave with exertion, soft tits bouncing and nipples pebbling from overstimulation. He was well aware he was being just a tad bit mean to you. But he couldn’t help it that you made the cutest little noises when you were being teased. A constellation of tears clung to the edges of your lashes as you gazed up at him with pleading eyes, teeth chewing on your lips as another wave of pleasure threatened to steal the air from your lungs.

Boothill leaned forward, fingers still plunging inside of you at an unrelenting pace as his face drew closer to yours. He flicked the rim of his hat up with his free hand, cold, robotic fingers curling around your chin and holding your face steady before your head could lull back once more. He hushed you as a small whimper crawled out of your throat, long strands of his hair spilling over your shoulders in a curtain of black and white as he pressed his lips to your cheek.

"Shh, pretty girl. I’m right here. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you."

A soft noise stirred in your chest as your hands weakly clawed at his arm, nails scratching uselessly at his steel body as you tried to hold onto the fraying edges of your sanity. The heat in your stomach was almost unbearable and you didn’t know how much more you could take as pressure built in your belly, the feeling both foreign and familiar as you twisted beneath Boothill.

"Boot…hill…I wanna- want to cum" you rasped with a breathless whimper. "Aeons above please touch my clit."

"Ohh~" Boothill cooed before he clicked his tongue. "So that’s what my girl wanted."

Whatever retort was rolling around in your mouth was immediately swallowed when Boothill pressed his thumb against the slick pearl of your clit, pressing down on the tightly packed bundle of nerves as it flushed to life. Your thighs tensed as your moans echoed around your stuffy bedroom, the tips of your fingers turning numb as the heat in your stomach started to boil. Boothill swirled his thumb around the swollen nub of your clit, rubbing it in time to the frantic pump of his fingers. The sensations of his vibrating fingers were amplified by how sensitive and wet you were, his thumb bullying your clit with unrelenting attention as your pussy squeezed around his fingers. Your shaking hips rolled into his touch as the sweltering knot inside of you frayed, Boothill’s voice tickling your ear as his tongue swiped at the perspiration clinging to your skin.

"That’s it, good girl…son of a nice lady you’re gripping me so tight. It’s okay pretty baby, I’ve got you. Just let go."

His words were the last push you needed. The burning coil in your stomach shattered into a million tiny fragments, your veins flooded with white hot euphoria that made your hips lock into place as your pussy spasmed around his fingers. You squirted on his fingers as they continued to vibrate against your pulsing walls, thin strands of translucent fluid spilling from your core. The intimate press of his thumb against your clit felt heavenly as you rode out the waves of your pleasure high, voice scratching your throat as you moaned and wailed. But the prolonged buzzing against your wet and throbbing sex was quick to overwhelm you, the vibrations amplifying your pleasure to an almost torturous degree as another wave of arousal stole the breath from your lungs. You thrashed in Boothill’s hold as your legs wound around his hips, feet kicking his sturdy back as you squawked.

"Too much!"

The vibrations ceased and a sigh of relief whistled through your teeth. Boothill removed his thumb, fingers still stuffed into the hilt inside of you as he swooped down between your thighs and replaced his thumb with his warm mouth. You sighed and mewled with bliss as his lips pressed soothing kisses to the overstimulated bud of your clit, your fingers delving through his hair as you gently pulled on the long strands. His tongue teased the hood of your clit, scooping up your slick before swallowing thickly. A pleased purr tickled his throat.

"Good girl" he praised before pressing an open mouth kiss to your messy pussy. "Damn, I could stay here all night if you’d let me."

[mostlyghostie]

I redrew my favourite books! This time I added my favourite albums too.

Books:

Paul Auster - 4321

Phillip Pullman - Northern Lights

AS Byatt - The Children’s Book

Charles Dickens - David Copperfield

William Goldman - The Princess Bride

George Saunders - Lincoln in the Bardo

RC Sherriff - The Fortnight in September

Kazuo Ishiguro - An Artist of the Floating World

Jon McGregor - Reservoir 13

David Mitchell - The Thousand Autumns of Jacob de Zoet

Elizabeth Strout - Olive Kitteridge

Alice Munro - Hateship, Loveship, Courtship, Friendship, Marriage

Marilynne Robinson - Home

John Williams - Stoner

Albums:

Love - Forever Changes

Lou Reed - Transformer

Violent Femmes - Violent Femmes

Neutral Milk Hotel - In the Aeroplane Over the Sea

Sam Cooke - Live at the Harlem Square Club

Martha - Blisters in the Pit of My Heart

Big Thief - Masterpiece

The Stone Roses - The Stone Roses

Joanna Newsom - Divers

Richard Dawson - 2020

George Harrison - All Things Must Pass

The Beatles - Abbey Road

(I’ve added a new listing to my shop where you can request a big custom print like this of your own favourite stuff to display on your wall!)

Shop / Instagram

[sefinaa]

❝𝐏𝐀𝐂: 𝐋𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥; 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐠𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞, 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐝.❞

What do you need to let go? (II)

x-x-x Masterlist Subliminal Channel Tips

x-x-x 18+ Readings Paid Readings Tarot Services

Pac summary!

x What do you have to let go?

x What can help you let go?

x Oracle cards

Moodboard | Divider

Pile I

Reversed 7 of cups, reversed king of pentacles, king of swords, and king of wands.

Right now, you are feeling overwhelmed, and you are worried about the progress that you have made. You feel stressed out and are nitpicking at the smallest details. People are saying things to you, and you feel like they are mocking or criticizing you. You feel as if everyone is out to get you, and they want to kill you or are trying to steal something from you. Despite all of these emotions you are feeling, you are trying to stay rational, but the overwhelming thoughts are eating you alive. And so you decided to try meditation, but your mind is foggy and crowded, and that is simply not working out for you. You are confused because you are following others' advice but ultimately forgetting what works best for you. You have a lot of paranoia surrounding you and a lot of stress is surrounding your energy. I see an alien-like leech sucking onto my skin, causing blisters and red bumps, and you feel the same way. You feel as if something is truly leeching on you, and intuition says that there are people who are. You have people who are leeching on your knowledge and skills, but the people that are.. You have mistaken them for good people, and those that are trying to help, you have become paranoid. Intuition also tells me that you need to take a huge step back from everything, I mean every single thing you can think of especially work (if you can), and your hobbies and completely allow your emotions to come forth. Forget meditation, the advice given to you by others, from a majority of piles, and such.. And just sit with your emotions and your thoughts and allow them to be heard. You have been ignoring them, pushing them down into a meat grinder, and allowing them to overwhelm you.

The problem is that you are very stubborn with your beliefs and your dreams. Which is totally okay, yet these dreams aren’t even what you want. It’s what your family wants, and you are falling into what someone wants and not what you want. Your heart is screaming at you to follow your dreams, but your anxiety and logical mind say otherwise. ‘’Follow the family, and everything will come into piece,’’ is something your mind says, whereas your heart screams, ‘’this isn’t what I want. I want that dream...’’ if you keep following what your family wants, you will only fall into a never-ending bottomless pit. Think of those who constantly lie and dig themselves a deeper hole. That is exactly what you are doing, but with yourself. I know a majority of you love your family, and that’s great, but do not forget yourself in the process. How can you expect love from others or people to come into your life if you are not following your heart and what you want? Do you honestly think you will be happy throughout the process? Life is a journey, and you are following someone else's path. I hear, ‘’yeah, but my father was just like me, and he learned to love it, so what?’’ Perhaps he did, or perhaps he was just like you and forced himself to do the same. Perhaps that is why you both are so similar and understand one another despite the circumstances. Perhaps that is why you fight for the same reasons in your own way. Perhaps that is why you think about your father and miss him whenever you do this, because you both were on the same boat. It is up to you to decide, but ultimately, you will be miserable if you keep going with this journey and do not follow your love for arts. 

It’s interesting that you have three kings because you have all of this stress surrounding you as you follow family tradition, yet you crave freedom, and when you do decide to follow your dreams, so much success will come your way. The king of wands is about the ability to inspire others and motivate them, and you want the same. Some of you crave to be a motivational speaker, following along the lines of helping trans people, helping Palestine, helping those struggling with mental health, or breaking past family traditions and the cage you feel. Some of you crave to be painters and allow others to see your drawings and the love you put into them, the story you make through your drawings, through your art, that meaning, the passion, etc., and the rest of you want to surround yourself with history and music. You want to combine everything and show the world how history is repeating itself and how we can stop it, but all through music. Everyone here has so much talent, but all of your talents are going to waste; you have a chance to reach your highest potential, but everything is going in vain out of fear. How can you crave such success if you don’t fight for it? I know there will be hardships with everything, and pain comes with it, but sacrifice is necessary for your dreams. That is why some people ask, ‘’if you could have anything in the world, what would it be? Would you sacrifice anything for it?’’ and some people also say, ‘’i would do anything just to have it.’’

The real question is: what would you sacrifice to have that dream of yours come to fruition?

You got three kings in your pile, and that’s amazing since kings are always known to be rich and surrounded by everything they so desire. So don't you want to have that as well? Be your own king and have things filled with the things you desire. All you have to do is break the tradition of following your family and find your own path. And everything else that isn't in your control will follow along. But you have to take control of your life and become your own success. Because others should not be your miracles, you must be your own. 

Oracle cards.

Lake  Stillness. ‘’The tempo of life these days has sped up considerably, and there seems to be no end to the quickening pace.  No matter if the noise is from your environment or your seemingly nonstop thinking, it is critical for you to seek stillness.’’

River  Movement ‘’Fighting or blocking the flow of your Life Force can lead you to feeling spiritually void and disconnected from Source.  Surrender to the movement of Life, be grateful and you will see the signs along the shore and in the river itself that offer you clues about what direction your egoless Self is to be making.’’

Dawn New beginnings ‘’This is a time to say farewell to the old and honor the new by releasing any self-imposed constraints or resistance to the truth that you know.’’

Masterlist.

Pile II

Reversed the lovers, reversed seven of swords, and king of cups.

Your heart is sinking into a deeper hole, and every time you try to reach out to this person, everything goes down the drain. You keep seeking something that never existed. You keep chasing something that will not happen. You are chasing away the person who loves you. You know them already, but you seek out the one person who wants to harm you. You focus on those who harm you, thinking that it’s okay, and when they hurt you, you’re like ''wtf,'' I didn’t deserve this, but you did. You push those who wanted you happiness, those who wanted to help you, and those who loved you; you push away them for those who wanted your worst and wanted to ruin you. You did everything for them and had such expectations that it never came to be. So yes, you did deserve it, and you must change your mindset. Stop allowing yourself to attract people who do not value or care for you in your life. Go back to those who give a shit about you. Don’t you want that? Perhaps you don’t think your younger self, before all of this pain occurred, deserved that? I don't think so. Do you?

With the reversed 7 of cups, you have the opportunity to change and make your life into something you desire. But because you suffer from the need to hurt yourself—a self-sabotaging tendency you picked up from your mother—you cannot end the cycle. This cycle has affected you since you were a child, hence adding ''before the pain.'' Intuition tells me you need to be honest with the person who loves you and tell them straight up that you are madly in love with them, but you struggle with sabotaging yourself because ___ you can fill in the dots for yourself. Since every single one of you has your own personal reasons that cannot be read. Reversed 7 of cups is focused on you making your own positive change to happen in order to start fresh. Why be your own enemy when you can pick yourself back up and with time and effort, be with the person you love? Because they are waiting for you, but are you waiting for them? Are you going to take this positive opportunity and be with them, or are you going to go back into the same cycle as your mother and allow yourself to be with an abusive person because you think you deserve that? The same thing happened to your mother, and if not your mother, then your great-great grandmother. Why follow along with generational trauma when you can make a name for yourself, look back at yourself in the future, and thank yourself? Why do you allow yourself to move on from your past and bury your emotions? You cannot actually move on from the past because you have lied to yourself and buried your emotions. Where is the logic in that? It’s simply impossible for it to be done. If one doesn’t understand their emotions, then they cannot heal themselves. Do not and stop lying to others, ‘’oh! I am healed! Oh! I am a secure attachment!’’ No, you are not. You have an anxious attachment style and cling to people who do you harm because you are so used to causing yourself trauma. You don't even understand how beautiful your life could’ve been if you stopped, took control, and allowed yourself happiness. 

It’s funny how you do not even understand how this person cares for you.. How much they love you so much that they would die for you on the spot. They would do everything in their power to be with you, to soothe your pain, and to kiss your wounds. To live in your essence and be with you. You cannot even grasp the compassion and love that you have for them, and yet it’s all hidden from all the toxic energies around you and the negativity leeching onto you in your mind. The person you ignore for the other person who is toxic would be the most loving and devoting person you could ever have met. Such patience in someone—I have never channeled that before. They have such a heartwarming and beautiful soul, but you simply do not see through all your self-sabotaging tendencies. For once, look at them, focus on the smaller details, and see for yourself how much love and devotion they have for you. Notice the way they smile at your words or brush your hair behind your back. Notice their texting styles and how soft they become. Notice the subtle messages they give you because they love you so much and you haven’t even known one another for so long, yet you both fell for each other. You believe in soulmates; they do not and yet.. They question if it exists because of you. That is how important you are to them, but you do not seem to notice. The king of cups is such a beautiful card; they find you to be even more beautiful than this card. The card signifies (in love) someone who embodies empathy, such compassion, and is so very loyal to their said lover. But your said person finds you to be absolute perfection.. A constant chant of perfection is appearing in my mind; all they can say to others is how perfect you are. Will you seriously let that person disappear from your life for this toxic person just because of your tendencies to self-sabotage? Is that what you truly seek, or is that an illusion for yourself out of fear? Because I will tell you this.. dating this person will heal you more than you could ever know.. but do you have the courage to heal them too, or will you allow them to ruin themselves for you because you chase those that do not deserve you?

Oracle cards.

Love Compassion. ‘’All wounds stem from the illusion of separation from Source and all of Creation.  The route to healing this wound is through cultivating love and compassion for every being on this planet, including yourself.’’

Rainbow Blessings. ‘’The storm has passed and it is time to enjoy the refreshing beauty of this cycle, even though it has been difficult to appreciate any sense of purposefulness in what you have endured lately.  You can now, as they say, count your blessings.’’

Summer Solstice Radiance.  ‘’Let the radiance of the sun inspire your inner radiance to shine forth. Release concerns about what may happen in the future and focus on appreciating everything you have that is good and right.’’

Masterlist

Pile III

Three of swords, reversed two of pentacles, and reversed six of swords.

Your heart has been broken by a lover. You recently got out of a romantic long-term relationship, and you have been mourning them for too long. Your heart is aching, and your mind races back to the same person. You are stuck in the past, and every time you have time to rest, you do not know what to do with it. You distract yourself with music, podcasts, or any background noises in the background so your mind doesn’t have to overthink. Sometimes you will scroll on social media, wasting your time, so you do not have the urge to reach back to them. This long-term relationship was going to be your way out of your hellhole. A lot of you struggle with depression, and having them by your side makes your life easier. The problem with that is that you leeched onto their energy and made them lose themselves in the process, along with their interest in you. They were secure and resilient, but with you, they became anxious because you were anxious. Meaning, you made them start to worry about your well being when you could have taken care of yourself. You already knew how to, but you thought having someone else do the work for you and their love would heal you—when you, yourself, are the goal of healing. So you must let them go and stop with the what-ifs. You already made your decisions, and now you can use those mistakes as lessons to heal. 

You have been ignoring your goals lately because you have punished yourself with this. Your energy is dark and gloomy, and intuition tells me that you waste your time doing things that do not benefit you. With the two of pentacles reversed, you are struggling to figure out your priorities and what you want to do with your life. You planned your whole life ahead with the person, forgetting them in the process. In a way, you thought about them on a constant daily basis, became obsessed with them, and then became jealous if they didn’t listen to you, do what you wanted, and/or hang out with someone else instead of you. Your obsessive nature is another thing you must let go of since it doesn’t serve you, causes you stress, and overall isn’t what people are interested in. You need to understand that people cannot do everything that you want, and you must learn how to respect others boundaries and lose control over them. It’s okay to lose control; learn how to control yourself instead of others. The world doesn’t revolve around you and learn to let go of your ego. Your ego, insecurities, and fears were your downfall, and you are aware of this but ignore them because you cannot handle the truth. 

You need to understand that your ego and your constant obsession over this person and your past are making you stuck. You must move on with your life, find freedom, and release the past. You must heal, and you must truly heal. Actually take time and go slow with the process. Stop letting your fears take over, make excuses with them, and complain to others. No one wants that. Would you like to meet someone who dumps trauma on you or constantly complains? No, so do not do the same with other people. Take a break from everyone and focus on empathy and how to let go of the past. Then, once you have done that, focus on your shadow self and heal yourself. You can do meditation to release trauma or do shadow work prompts. This will help you understand the reason why you do this in the first place and how to heal from it. Stay consistent with it, and then when you are in the present moment and you have healed more than you could imagine. Look back to your past and appreciate the hard work that you put in to be right where you are. Do you understand? 

Oracle cards.

Tsunami  Wake up call. ‘’You are getting a wake-up call. It may be in the form of a significant loss or other dramatic event in your life, typically one you were unprepared for. However, know that it is time to draw back the curtain of avoidance and denial and face the truth.’’

Clouds Shapeshifting.  ‘’In both subtle and more dramatic ways, you can shapeshift by your choice of clothing, hairstyle, adornments and even mannerisms.  By adjusting these along with you internal attitude, you can actually display different personas.  Be like the clouds-try different forms by stretching yourself beyond your comfort zone.  You might discover something new about yourself!’’

Crystals Focus. ‘’It is time to bring your complete focus to the subject of your inquiry.  Eliminate all distractions, and give this your undivided attention.  This focus will align your flow with life force energy, making any task at hand one accomplished with a sense of relaxation.’’

Masterlist

[siderealscribblings]

Early access Games of Divinity Time: Timetheft Edition

The Chasm - Liyue

There were easier ways to break stone, but Zhongli found the rhythmic swing of a pick strangely therapeutic. The tinny tink-tink-tink of metal on rock mingled with the chatter from the other miners around him, all dressed in sweat-stained shirts and heavy work-boots the same as he was. Despite hauling and shattering entire mountains worth of rock, no one raised a complaint, even as the blistering sun began beating down on them. They were a good crew, even if they were unnerved by the soft-spoken young man that could splinter rocks the size of houses with a few well-placed strokes of his ax. 

Perhaps they smell the blood on me, Zhongli thought, taking a swig from the wineskin on his hip and wiping his brow. War gods without wars were irrelevant, and while the Qixing still relied on his wisdom (such as it was) Zhongli found himself with too much time on his hands. Time that would be spent brooding if he didn’t put his hands to work doing something useful. It would be a while before he needed to fake his death and vanish for a few decades so those in Liyue Harbor didn’t grow suspicious and if he was going to live as a man, he was going to work as one as well. 

“Hey, Z!” Zhongli craned his head up to see one of the other workers leaning over the edge of his pit some ten meters above him. “Chow-wagon is here; grab the Mora Meat before Lingyun runs off with the whole stack!” 

“Screw off!” Came Lingyun’s reply from somewhere above him. 

“Thank you; I’ll be up momentarily,” Zhongli sighed, waving his co-worker off. The sun was high in the sky; Cloud Retainer would no doubt be snacking on the finest food the Fontish could serve up while Zhongli was picking pebbles out of Mora Meat. It had been many years since he had been at another Archon’s banquet, but given that a rather prickly dragon shadowed the Hydro Archon, Zhongli thought better of attending in disguise. 

Has the morning gotten away from me already? Zhongli thought, leaning against the wall of his hole and closing his eyes for a moment of peace. He tugged one of his gloves off, pressing a bare, scaled palm against the stone and sending a pulse of Geo energy throughout the earth  beneath him. They were approaching a cave system with a rich vein of Cor Lapis; beneath that was remnants of the meteorite that had fallen ages ago. No good will come of that, Zhongli thought. Best to guide them away from the tunnels so they can-

Zhongli’s musing was interrupted by something brushing against his nose. He opened his eyes to see a large black and red butterfly flapping lazily on the tip of his nose, tiny feelers brushing against his forehead as he carefully pried it off his face. The smell of smoky, burning cherrywood hung in the air as it beat its wings, fluttering off Zhongli’s finger and landing on the handle of his pickaxe. 

��Tell me you’re not here for any of my co-workers,” Zhongli said, watching as the butterfly exploded in a snap of flames, leaving a young woman with flowing brown hair in its place. 

“Nah, I decided to come out and see how the God of Geo fares as a miner,” the adeptus said, brushing some ash off her coat. “But, you may want to let that guy stuffing eight Mora Meat in his mouth know that his life’s thread got a little bit shorter after the last one. I’m not a doctor—quite the opposite really—but he’s only like twenty five and dying that young from a heart-attack seems like a waste to me.” 

“Shall I tell him the Unbound Flame revealed herself to me and told me his days were numbered?” Zhongli chuckled, glancing up to make sure no one was listening in. The young woman was known to many as the 57th Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor (a title she conveniently inherited from a mortal relative when it suited her) but how she had appeared out of thin air was not a conversation Zhongli wanted to entertain. 

“Tell him to eat a vegetable every once and a while or he’s going to be fitted for a pine box before he’s forty,” the Unbound Flame sighed. “How’s the side-gig treating you?” 

“Alright…I enjoy doing physical labor more than I thought I would,” Zhongli shrugged. “I’ve had enough of splitting skulls so I thought I’d give splitting stone a try.” 

“Shame; you’re good at splitting skulls,” the Unbound Flame said, hopping off the pick-ax. “Your skills might be needed sooner rather than later, in fact.” 

“I should hope not,” Zhongli said. “...is there something I should know?” 

“Besides the fact that you need a bath?” The Unbound Flame chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “...that Miko lady was in town the other day.” 

“Ei’s girl?” Zhongli asked. “I imagine she’s heading up for Lady Furina’s birthday.” 

“She was…but she wanted to talk to someone in charge and since Cloudy and Xiao are in Fontaine and you’re playing in the mud, she had to talk to me,” the Unbound Flame sighed. “Barbados wants to talk.” 

“Yae Miko sent you to tell me that Barbados wants to talk?” Zhongli sniffed. “Why isn’t Barbados here to talk to me himself?” 

“He’s in Fontaine at the moment,” the Unbound Flame said. “And he wants you to join him.” 

“Of all the-” Zhongli shook his head. “That absurd little god needs to stay away from Fontaine; the last time I was there, I was run off by Focalors’ attack dragon.” 

“Like you couldn’t have dusted him if you wanted,” the Unbound Flame huffed, lightly jabbing Zhongli in the shoulder. “You might want to hear what he has to say first.” 

Zhongli’s brow furrowed as his companion fished a letter from her coat pocket and pressed it into Zhongli’s hands. Only one sentence was on the page, but Zhongli read it three times, his scowl deepening with each pass. 

“...how does he know?” Zhongli asked quietly. 

“I guess bards hear a lot of rumors,” the Unbound Flame said, her usual cheer muted as she watched him inspect the letter further. “Miko seems to think it’s legit.” 

“Does Neuvillette know about this?” Zhongli asked, rubbing his eyes as he tossed the paper aside. 

“If he did, the whole country would be up in arms,” the Unbound Flame said, folding her arms across her chest. “You know Barbados doesn’t pull his head out of a wine barrel unless things are serious.” 

“And Xiao and Cloud Retainer are in the middle of all this…nonsense,” Zhongli growled. “...there is a chance I may make this worse. Neuvillette will distrust me if I tell him the sky is blue by virtue of the fact that I’m an usurper.” 

“Well if he doesn’t trust at least one of us, he could have another dead Hydro Archon on his hands,” the Unbound Flame said. “And that’s not even the worst part; someone needs to go up there and swing his metaphorical spear around and since the Shogun isn’t up to the task-” 

“I suppose it falls to me,” Zhongli sighed, rubbing his eyes. “...we could start another war.” 

“Or prevent one,” the Unbound Flame reasoned. “Either way, should be a good time; I hear Fontish food is pretty good if you don’t mind snails and stinky cheese.” 

“Something tells me we’re not making it to the Archon’s dinner table this time,” Zhongli said. “You’ll come with me.” 

“Think you’ll need an undertaker?” 

“If we need to bury a goddess, I can think of no finer mortician than someone from the ‘Hu’ family,” Zhongli said, kicking a shovel at her and watching her catch it. The withered wooden handle crackled as flames danced across the woman’s fingertips, turning red as fire consumed it. In the hands of the Unbound Flame, any piece of wood could become her Staff and as the fire died down, the shovel was replaced by a long wooden stick capped with a pair of ornate wings and a crimson jewel. 

“I thought you were done being a war god,” the Unbound Flame teased, jabbing him in the side as Zhongli pulled his coat back on. 

“After this, I am done,” Zhongli said for what must have been the hundredth time as he turned to climb the rickety ladder out of the pit as the Unbound Flame rode her staff out to the surface. “Let me bathe and we’ll be off.” 

A distant boom followed by the sound of panicked screaming came from the far side of the chasm, a cloud of dust erupting from a nearby mine as men rushed out covered in dirt. 

“Take your time…I have some work to wrap up here,” the Unbound Flame sighed. “Tell your boss that she lost three…no, four men. I’ll see them off before we go.” 

Staff draped across her shoulders, she sauntered off, humming a cheerful funeral dirge to herself as she went to collect the souls of the fallen miners.

[pianokantzart]

All That Remains

One-shot based on @elitadream's Body Swap AU. It's set in the aftermath of Mario's eventual rescue, (it also comes with a few drawings because I was in a mood.) Please note that the Bowser I drew is, for the sake of consistency, based on elitadream's (fcking awesome) Bowser design, and is not my own take.

If you like this AU/concept, please check out the masterpost! There is soooo much good stuff on there.

________________________________

Inexperience and desperation fueled an inferno that turned the bright green fields on the outskirts of The Mushroom Kingdom as black as the heart of The Darklands. Kamek clung to his broom high above the mayhem, and through the smoke and roaring flames he caught glimpses of the two warring bodies, each utterly detached from their senses, unaware of either fatigue or pain as they grappled for dominance in a struggle far more explosive than anything he had witnessed before. Mario alone– equipped with Bowser’s body– seemed to have some sort of a goal beyond delivering as much damage as possible. As clumsy as he was with his giant claws and heavy form, he remained keenly aware of where Luigi and Princess Peach were, and always made sure he was positioned to shield them from the worst of the heat.

Though Luigi and Peach struggled to assist in whatever way they could, the raging inferno that encompassed the fight made even comprehending what was happening around them near impossible, and even Kamek, accustomed to the fire whirl and magma pits of home, felt overwhelmed. Yet, out of fear for his king, he ventured closer, weaving about the spires of flames upon his broomstick to get a better look.

Though Mario and Bowser alike were to blame for the surrounding destruction, he was surprised to find a majority of the fire was radiating from the body of the plumber. Bowser had wielded firebrand with reckless abandon, clearly unaware of such magic’s limitations, barely even noticing the redness and blisters forming upon his skin wherever patches of his gloves and sleeves had been burned away. Mario’s body was more resistant to heat than that of the average human, but it– unlike Bowser's original body– was not immune. Kamek’s concern grew into a subdued panic when, at length, the fire began to lose intensity. Bowser strained to refuel the inferno, staring with unfocused confusion at his all-too-human hands as he struggled to make sparks when he once constructed torrents of white hot flames. He didn’t know what was happening, but Kamek could tell that the abused body was finally failing him. As the heat died down, Luigi and Peach slowly made their approach, careful to avoid the patches of earth that boiled red-hot from the encounter. Seeing where the chips fell, Kamek knew what needed to be done. Thankfully, the spell that had switched Bowser and Mario’s bodies– though difficult to conduct– was childsplay to undo. With the wave of his wand and a whispered charm, both souls were returned to their original form. Luigi and Peach witnessed the flash of light, and the great change in both Mario’s and The Koopa King’s expression.

Immediately, Bowser felt it: the weight of being and the connection to his old flesh. Like waking from a heavy sleep he noted the tiredness in his arms and the ache in his chest, as well as the pain of the bruises and the burns he himself had inflicted in his scuffle with a borrowed body. His newfound sense of weakness triggered a rage. A low, familiar growl rumbled throughout his draconic form as he turned toward the magikoopa hovering nearby.

“Kamek!” he roared, “I did not order you to return me to my body!” Kamek’s broom came to a landing at Bowser’s side– now the true Bowser, through and through. Kamek had expected his lord to be displeased, and yet he couldn’t help flinching, clutching his wand to his chest at the severity of the voice. “I’m sorry sire, but I had no choice! Your old vessel, it… it could not carry on!” “What!?” Bowser blew a puff of smoke and looked to where Mario stood, although “stood” may have been too strong a term. The little plumber– himself, slowly growing aware of his own body– wobbled unsteadily in place. Outside of the injuries he’d undergone in the fight there were other markings; his cheeks sallow and his eyes sunken, his breath labored and his lips cracked and chapped. His knees began to buckle, and the princess and Luigi rushed together to catch him before he hit the ground. Bowser smirked, taking no small amount of satisfaction in the fear that flashed through Mario’s eyes as he steadily crumbled into the arms of his companions.

“See? Your efforts weren’t for naught.” Kamek continued cheerfully, “your hated enemy is defeated, worn thin through ‘his’ decimation of The Mushroom Kingdom’s defenses. We merely need to press forward with the invasion, and victory shall be yours!...”

Kamek was about to continue, when he was interrupted by a violent flash of blue light and the crack of thunder. Luigi had left his brother in the arms of the princess and leapt in front of them, electricity shooting from an outstretched hand, across the charred plane, into the body of the magician.

Kamek, blindsided, received the attack with full-force. He jittered and contorted, unable to emit so much as a shriek as electricity ricocheted through his elderly body, until at length he fell to the ground limp as a ragdoll.

All eyes shifted to Luigi. 

Anyone who had fought with The Mario Brothers, whether as their ally or opponent, knew firebrand had horizontal range and thunderhand had vertical range. Both were capable of incredible destructive power in close quarters, and when Mario and Luigi worked as a team, few had the opportunity to get near enough to feel the full force of their magic. By all accounts, Kamek should have been out of range. Even Luigi appeared utterly bewildered by what he just accomplished, breathing heavily as he looked at his own hands, shivering from adrenaline and sparking uncontrollably.

Bowser, equally confused, bent down at Kamek’s side, and examined him in a moment of what appeared to be genuine concern. With the enemy distracted, Luigi took a step back toward Princess Peach to deliver the harried bullet points of his plan. “You need to get him to The Mushroom Kingdom before the invasion. Get Mario help. Get everyone ready. I’ll keep him busy.” “Luigi!” The princess’ voice was pleading as she gathered Mario into her arms. Truthfully, she knew Luigi’s idea wasn't a bad one. Bowser’s body, despite being in better condition than Mario’s, had not emerged from the battle unscathed. Given the current circumstances, Luigi stood a chance of holding his own, and The Mushroom Kingdom desperately needed time to ready its defenses before Koopa Troops showed up in droves to carry out Bowser’s planned attack. Nonetheless, Peach detested the thought of abandoning him. He had suffered too much on his own already. Furthermore, he and Mario had just been reunited, and she preferred any other possible avenue over splitting them apart again.

Luigi glanced over his shoulder, and forced a reassuring smile that didn't quite fit his words: “I’m sorry! I was so scared I- I didn’t do anything right! I should’ve done more… protected everyone sooner." His voice cracked, those old familiar tears forming in the corner of his eyes. "Please, let me do things right this time.”

Mario, through his fight to maintain consciousness, heard every word, and hated them with every fiber of his being. He attempted to speak, to reach out for his brother, to do anything to console him… but his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth and his arms hung limply at his sides. All he could manage was a barely-audible murmur. Luigi had no right to feel this way. He wasn’t the one who had fallen for Bowser’s trap, who had allowed himself to be chained up in the underbelly of the world, who had given over to despair. Luigi, through no fault of his own, had been suddenly abandoned to the whims of a monster, and yet he had escaped and traveled all the way to The Darklands to save him. How could he feel guilt for this? How could he feel anything but proud of himself?

“Luigi…” Peach whispered, but before she could say anything more, there came a thudding of heavy steps. A giant clawed hand cast a shadow over them as Bowser, who realized by now that Kamek wouldn’t be roused any time soon, rushed forward to finish the fight. Luigi leapt over the attack on instinct while The Princess rolled out of the way, holding Mario close to her chest as Bowser’s heavy hand shattered the earth inches from her back. The King of The Koopas turned to Peach, poised to bring down another blow, when Luigi landed upon the back of his neck. One hand clung to his horn, while the other slammed down against the thick, scaly skin of his neck to deliver another pulse of electricity. This time, Bowser felt it, and the sound of his pained roar fueled Luigi’s determination. “Go your highness!” He shouted, struggling to maintain his grip as Bowser fought to shake him off, “I won’t be far behind!” Princess Peach hurried to her feet, hesitating for only a moment longer as she tightened her hold on Mario's body. She felt him grow limp, heard his labored breath slow, and felt the decision had all but been made for her. With a heavy heart she turned and ran toward The Mushroom Kingdom, pouring whatever magic she left into Mario's unconscious form. The burns could be fixed easily, but the effects of starvation, dehydration, and sleep deprivation were not so easily undone. Slow damage required slow remedies, and the worst of his condition had been over a week in the making.

She didn’t dare look back, keeping her eyes focused on the twinkle of the castle’s familiar stained glass window in the distance, shining like a beacon above clouds of ash and smoke as the world behind her echoed with the sound of monstrous roars and crackling thunder.

[skullwillow155]

Hi

Not much happens in this one. Just a bit of pining again moving on the chapter so I can get into the adventure, pining and maybe conflict between the 3. It may follow on from the arc or the adventure may change unsure yet. Wanted a bit of nice before I ended up writing angst etc.

If anyone maybe wants any requests or anything I could try while I try write this.

Also does anyone know where I can tag part 1 in part 2?

It is also on A03 if anyone wants to follow just incase you miss any

Chapter 2:

They had stood there for what felt like hours. In reality it wasn’t that long and they probably would have been longer but the air was getting chilly and she was shivering, becoming acutely aware of the change in temperature. Sanji had not let go even once but he was disturbed by Zoro telling him to move his ass. Zoro had been watching closely and could see Jeshika shivering and he couldn’t help but tell Sanji to move. Part of it was the cold and part of it was because he had enough of watching Sanji fawn all over her. He wouldn’t admit it but there was a feeling in the pit of his stomach and he wasn’t too sure what that was. He was just aware that he didn’t like it. He felt himself glaring at Sanji. “Move it stupid cook” Zoro shouted not seeing him move and inch, Sanji buried his head in Jeshika’s chest once more before pulling back and glaring at the swordsman. “Not got anything better to do than stare, Mosshead?” He snapped back almost wanting to smack the overbearing swordsman. “What did you say?” Zoro automatically snapped back and taking a long stride towards Sanji, getting right in his face. Sanji let go of Jeshika and started to argue back.

Jeshika’s looked at both of them as she was almost pushed gently away. The last few years had been tough but this, this somehow made it worth it. Just to see them argue; though wasn’t funny; was nostalgic. She let it go on for a little bit longer before grabbing both of their arms to get them to stop. Sanji and Zoro’s head snapped at the touch, almost forgetting she was there. Sanji immediately apologised. “I’m sorry my love...” his eyes turning to hearts before glaring momentarily at Zoro. She rubbed circles in his arm with her thumb before feeling Zoro turn to look at her. She could never read his emotions and being away from him for two years had made that incredibly harder. His eye flicked with some kind of emotion she had never seen before unable to pin point what it was.

Zoro was looking as Jeshika intently as he felt her grab his arm. He small hands barely grabbing his arm but he felt the small warmth left from her touch. He we about to speak when Sanji grabbed Jeshika and whisked her off towards the cabin. All of a sudden that warmth being replaced by blistering cold. He stood there dumbfounded just watching as she was being whisked away. Sure he knew that Jeshika and Sanji had something going on before they got separated but ever since he laid eyes on her again, he had a gnawing feeling in his chest. He shook his head slightly not wanting to explore that any further. He just put it down to anger at seeing that crappy cook. He closed his eye and sighed in frustration before making his way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of Sake. At least that’s what he told himself.

Jeshika felt herself bring whisked towards the kitchen, her hands losing grip of both the men in front of her. In that moment she was grateful as her stomach rumbled reminding her she hadn’t eaten all day due to her waiting on the deck for the 3 men to turn up.

Sanji was gripping her tightly wanting to get her away from the idiot as soon as possible. If he didn’t then he would probably still be in argument now.

As he led Jeshika to the kitchen; unable to stop touching her and complimenting her. He felt a twinge of sadness at the two years they had missed together. He would never let her go again, Luffy or the world government be damned. She was gorgeous and perfect on every way and it ate him up inside that he couldn’t see her beauty. He wasn’t about to let her out of his sight. As he directed her to the kitchen he took in every detail of her. Drinking her in. The way her hips and chest had filled in a lot more made his face blush and his nose bleed ever so slightly. He appreciated her beauty before but this was more. He gripped on her tightly noticing a few scars that run up her back. He didn’t like to see her get hurt and it broke his heart to see her perfect skin tarnished. He swears under his breath wanting to find out what happened. He made a mental note to ask later when they were alone. How he hoped they’d be alone soon. He ran his thumb over the small of her back and lead her to sit down on the kitchen. He kissed her cheek before being pulled away by Luffy who was beginning to get hungry too.

He sighed, not really minding his Captain shouting meat constantly. He rolled his eyes lit up a cigarette and begrudgingly left her sat at the table with Nami, Chopper and Robin Going smoothly back into his role as though he hadn’t been gone two years. With one more glance to make sure Jeshika was OK. He wiped the blood from his nose, washed his hands and prepared them all a wonderful meal. In the corner of his eye he could see green hair walking into the kitchen and making a beeline for the alcohol. “Same old mosshead” he glared trying not to turn his head to look at him. Instead focusing on the task at hand. What he didn’t see was Zoro taking a seat next to Jeshika and offering her a glass of Sake.

Everyone else is enjoying being back together telling some stories of what happened all the while Jeshika was just taking in her surroundings. Looking everyone individually and seeing all the changes that had occurred. Her eyes constantly glittering before Zoro and Sanji. She happily took the Sake, and stayed uncharacteristically quiet. She was using this time to soak everything back up and get used to the feeling of not being alone and being with her crew. Her eyes lingered on Sanji as Zoro’s eye briefly lingered on her and she wondered what there relationship would be like now. Sanji seemed the same with her but she knew the time away was long.

She felt Zoro’s eye on her and raised an eyebrow. He looked away quickly but she could have sworn there was a pink tint to his cheeks. She brushed it off before drinking down her Sake and listening to everyone.

As the night wore on and she got increasingly more drunk and tired, her eyes grew weary. She was happy. She again could faintly hear laughter and arguing through her foggy mind. She drifted off to sleep feeling someone pick her up and carry her to bed.

[wellthebardsdead]

Falûne: I… want to be with Astarion, forever… he’s, he’s content being a vampire but-

Raphael: I’m not content with him bleeding you dry every night.

Astarion: understandable. But… if I’m cured of this, I won’t be immortal anymore… then you won’t approve of us…

Raphael: so just let my nephew turn you into a devil and be done with it.

Falûne: …Oh yeah I can do that.

Astarion: I?… I won’t- look any different will I? You can do it like Wyll? Just horns and a tail I won’t be something hideous like a pit fiend?

Falûne: make you ugly?… impossible~ *purrs and holds his face in his hands as blood pours from his palms and his eyes go dark* I love you.

Astarion: *being covered in his blood, consumed by it and changed* I love you too- *gasps as it covers his face, his lips meeting Falûnes through a river of crimson before it suddenly disappears. Leaving him as himself, just with horns and a tail as promised* hells- I… my heart- it’s… *looks at Falûne and smiles dreamily feeling warmth flood through his body* alive…

Falûne: *smiles and kisses him again* let’s enjoy living together then~

Raphael: *snapping his fingers staring at the puddle of blood left behind* gods damn it nephew on the rug?! Really?! Ugh, clean it up.

Gortash: *infernal engine blistering his skin and rattling in his chest as he begrudgingly walks in with a mop to clean up the mess, unable to even acknowledge the command otherwise with his tongue ripped out* hnnnn…

[lady-pug]

Warm Sand, Soft Hands

Summary: As you and Din try and help Mos Pelgo and the Tuskens against the Great Krayt Dragon, a split second decision from Din’s part might just change everything and leave you heartbroken. Heartbroken and furious.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Word count: 3,7k

Warnings: this one is quite angsty, plus a few descriptions of injuries (burns and blisters), but nothing further than that

Notes: okay, this is my first time ever posting on tumblr (other than a few reblogs, that is). I’ve only just gotten around to creating an account and I’m currently working on adding all of my already existing works on here. So I really hope you enjoy this! If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

This work is part of a series, but all of the parts can be read as standalone one-shots (they are posted in non-chronological order). Reader’s gender not specified.

Next part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Din couldn’t possibly discern what was wrong with you. You had been quiet for the entirety of the ride, your hands loosely wrapped around his waist. On more than one occasion he'd had to hold tightly onto your forearms while going over a dune, otherwise you certainly would have been thrown off the speeder. While he knew you weren’t particularly fond of Tatooine, too many bad memories tarnishing the planet for you, you had been fine when you first landed.

Once the speeder came to a stop near the entrance to the sarlacc pit you quickly hopped off, barely looking at him, and turned to move towards Vanth. But Din was faster and quickly grabbed your wrist before you could take a single step. Damn those bounty hunter reflexes. 

“Is everything alright?” he said, almost reverently “You seem tense.”

Shaking your head you tried to ease him, and yourself, with a strained smile.

“It’s nothing, Mando. No need to worry.”

“You know I always worry.” that seemed to make your smile shift to a more genuine one.

“I just-” you sighed “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“About what?”

“This!” you opened your arms and gestured around you in frustration “all of this! Slaying a krayt dragon is madness!” your voice dropped almost to a whisper “That thing could kill us all.”

His heart clenched at the look of pure fear in your eyes. Yes, it was madness, it would probably get messy really quickly but he had to do this. Too many lives were at risk if they didn’t kill this dragon now.

“You know I hate this as much as you do” now he was the one to sigh  “but we need to do this. The whole town and the Tuskens are depending on us.”

A sad smile appeared on your face.

“I know.”

You nodded at him and went to walk away but he held you in place with a hand to your upper arm.

“I won’t let anything happen to you” his voice was soft, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing up and down your arm “I promise.”

You chuckled halfheartedly.

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

His thumb came to a halt mid rub as his heart skipped a beat. 

“Be careful out there, Mando.”

He gave your upper arm a light squeeze.

“You too, Cyar’ika.”

“How is that thing not dead?!” the Weequay bartender shouted over the deafening roar of the krayt dragon. The giant beast had managed to somehow dodge the explosion and crawled its way up a cliff. Sickly green acidic goo was projectiled from the creature’s stomach, getting a much better range than before.

“Oh, for kriff’s sake!” 

You knew from the moment you accepted Din’s (back then known as Mando) offer to be his live-in mechanic/nanny for The Child that this wouldn’t be a normal job. You just knew you would have to fend off bounty hunters, just like you had with Calican, and occasionally patch The Mandalorian up after a job gone wrong. But this certainly wasn’t on the job description. 

“I’m so asking Mando for a raise.” (not that you needed it, having him and the baby in your life was already payment enough on its own).

Out of the corner of your eye you could see two figures fly up towards the dragon. Din and Vanth landed on a slope and started shooting but even that didn’t work, as the dragon went back underground.

Disorientated, you, Tuskens and townsfolk started frantically looking around trying to predict where the dragon would pop up next. Turns out that was a little bit too close to where you were currently standing. You tried to fire your blaster at it but nothing seemed to work as it kept coming closer to you. You heard your name being shouted somewhere behind you.

“Get out of there!” Din’s modulated voice barely registered over the thumping of your heart on your ears. Sprinting away as the dragon came in your direction, you stumbled over your feet a safe distance away.

Suddenly it changed its course. It started crawling towards Din, Cobb and… a bunch of explosives tied up to a bantha.

“Smart, Mando. Very smart.”  

But your inner celebration was short lived. Din hit Cobb’s jetpack, making him fly away. But Din didn’t move; he wasn’t moving even as the dragon got closer and closer. In the few moments it took for you to realize what was happening and will your legs to start working again it was too late. 

Your feet felt glued to the ground. Your breath hitched and you felt as if your heart had stopped beating. Din’s plan had worked: the krayt dragon had devoured the bantha and with it, your Mandalorian.

You faintly heard someone screaming as the beast, seemingly satisfied, retreated back under the sand. It took you a few moments and two pairs of robe clad arms holding you back for you to realize you were the one screaming. Soft sand came in contact with the fabric of your trousers as your knees buckled.

It hurt. Maker, everything hurt. Your chest was on fire and you couldn’t inhale without being acutely aware of every particle of sand mixed with air as you tried to fill your lungs with oxygen. But it kriffing hurt. Something warm was running down your cheeks, blurring your vision and rolling off your chin and onto the sand. Tears. You were crying, sobbing, having witnessed your Mandalorian die a second time. 

The blood rushing in your ears almost led you to miss the distinct rumble of the krayt dragon re-emerging. Not again you thought. That thing already took too much from you, how was it not dead yet?

But then you saw something: as the dragon shot upwards something flew out of its mouth through an electrical storm, followed by the thing exploding up in flames. No, not something, someone. You squinted your eyes to try and get rid of the blur of tears against the harsh sun and realized… it was Din! He was alive and safe and very much not dead. 

As he landed before the dead dragon both the people from Mos Pelgo and the Tuskens started to congratulate and cheer for him. In that moment, the relief you felt just seconds ago from seeing he was okay suddenly shifted to a strange sense of embarrassment and anger. Your face burned in humiliation as you scolded yourself. Your tears previously born out of sorrow turned to ones of anger. Maker, you felt pathetic. Crying over a man who didn’t seem to give two bantha fodders about his own safety, about who he’d leave behind if he died or about you for all it seemed.

Getting off the ground you decided to give your- (No, he wasn’t yours to begin with) -the Mandalorian a piece of your mind.

He did it. He slayed a kriffing krayt dragon, a giant one at that. As his feet touched the ground he felt a small twinge of pride as the villagers cheered him on, but it was quickly snuffed out and replaced by relief. He only delivered the final blow afterall, it took a lot of combined effort from everyone to kill this thing, the people from Mos Pelgo, the Tuskens, Vanth, you… Maker, you were great out there. Well, you were always great, at least in his eyes, always making sure the kid was safe and protected. Where were you by the way? 

As he turned around in search of you he finally spotted you. But something wasn’t… quite right. You didn’t look happy or relieved, like he thought you would be. You looked downright pissed.

“Cyar’ika-”

The last thing he expected to happen was for you to shove him away from you. But his armor was still covered in stomach acid from the dragon and the moment your hands came in contact with his breastplate you pulled them away with a wail of agony.

“Cyar’ika, what are you doing?! Here let me-” as he took a step towards you and went to grab your hands in order to check them over you stumbled away from him.

“No!” you tucked your injured hands close to your chest “Don’t call me that!”

That made him freeze. He always called you that, ever since that fateful day in Nevarro, you were his cyar’ika. You may not have known what it meant but he knew you could easily guess it was something affectionate. 

“Are you kriffing stupid?!” you shouted at him, to which he stayed silent. “Why would you do that?! What were you thinking?”

“I saw an opportunity and decided to take it.” he mumbled after a moment, still a little uncertain about this whole interaction. 

You scoffed. That’s such a Mando thing to say.

“You jumped in the mouth of a Great Krayt Dragon, Mando!” you were practically shaking, vibrating with rage “You clearly didn’t think this through, did you?! Didn’t think about who you were leaving behind?”

He was about to retort, commenting on how he didn’t jump into its mouth, he was only holding the bantha and just happened to be in the way of its jaws when he saw it. Just a quick glimpse, barely there, but he managed to see it, his heart clenching as he realized what he was seeing. Beneath all the anger, the rage, was fear. The same look of unadulterated fear he saw on your face right before the fight began was back, and a lot stronger. Maker, he was so stupid, how could he be so dense? Of course you were scared, you just watched him die, again. It was the second time you thought he was dead in a too short period of time.

“I-I’m sorry, Cyar’ika, I-” you shook your head, your eyes turning misty and clouded, and walked away before you broke down in front of him.

Din felt something warm, uncomfortable and almost suffocating grow on his chest, crawling up his throat: it was guilt. He felt so guilty, he was trying to protect everyone, protect you, but he ended up hurting you in the process, after you specifically told him to be careful because you were worried about him. But no, he had to go and get himself eaten alive. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how you were feeling, first having left him to die (upon his request) in Nevarro and now this. He wanted to run after you, fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness, even if he felt like he didn’t deserve it, he would spend the rest of his days groveling if it came to it. But he knew you needed space.  

His inner struggle was interrupted by a hand being clapped down on his shoulder.

“Trouble in paradise?” he could smack Vanth’s smirk right off his face.

After having harvested the dragon for its meat (and one lucky tusken finding an incredibly large pearl in its guts) it was time for you to leave and go back to Mos Pelgo where you would be staying until morning (“Only someone with a deathwish crosses the Dune Sea at night, Din.” you had told him). He approached you oh so slowly as if you were a scared wild animal that would flee the moment he spoke too loud or too fast.

“Are you ready to go?”

You barely looked at him, the only indication you even heard him was a slight tilt of your head. Was that how most people felt when talking to him?

When you didn’t answer, he sighed. Sensing the overall discomfort, Vanth chimed in from where he was tidying his speeder (if you could even call the engine of a podracer that).

“You could ride with me.” he said, taking a look at Mando, but quickly turned to address you again “If you want.”

That didn’t sit right with Din. He wanted you to ride with him, so he could know you were safe. So he could keep you safe. But when you nodded, he could only sigh as he watched you climb behind Vanth and speed off. A sad coo sounded from the rucksack strapped to the back of his speeder, as the baby’s ears sagged pitifully.

“I know, kid.” he addressed the kid, who was confusedly staring at him “I kriffed up.”

Holding onto Vanth during the ride back proved to be nearly impossible. Ugly blisters had started forming on the angry red skin of your palms, making them really sensitive to the touch. The only solution you found was locking your wrists onto one another circled around Cobb’s waist, resulting in him having to ride very slowly so you wouldn’t get catapulted off the speeder.

The slower pace was quite a nice change from the usual deafening engine roar as you could actually hear yourself think for once. After riding for a few miles Vanth’s voice broke you out of your trance.

“I get that you care about him.”

You knew exactly who he was talking about.

“I do.” you sighed “What are you getting at, Vanth?”

A beat of silence followed before he spoke up again.

“He cares about you too, you know?”

You blinked once, twice before his words finally registered and you looked down at your lap. Only a couple of moments later you found the strength to answer.

“I know.” a bitter laugh escaped past your lips before you could stop it “That’s the whole problem, isn’t it?.”

“Come again?”

A sharp warm sting burned in your eyes but you refused to let the tears brimming in them spill over.

“He cares about me and the kid. A lot. But he doesn’t seem to care about himself in the slightest!” you protested frustrated “What does he think would happen to us if he’s gone? I would get stranded on this Maker forsaken planet, with no credits and a green magic baby to take care of!” 

He stayed silent for a second before speaking up softly.

“I don’t think those are the real reasons you are so upset over this.”

You swallowed your tears some more.

“How does he think it would feel if he… how I would feel if he did…”

You couldn’t say it. Die your brain filled in for you. Din’s had multiple close calls, more than any person should have to go through in their entire lifetime. You understood that his job came with its fair share of dangerous situations, and had even been there to witness some of them. But he didn’t need to jump headfirst into it like he did today. He didn’t get out of the way, even when the dragon was charging right at him. There would certainly be another shot at killing the beast, there would be another option, but he didn’t get out of the way. He was ready to die. And it wasn’t the first time. Back in Nevarro he was ready to sacrifice himself so the lot of you could escape through the tunnels. That had absolutely broken your heart, even if you hadn’t known him for long. You had never wanted to feel like that again. 

How could he possibly think you would be okay if he was gone? You finally had something good, the closest thing to a little family after so long on your own-

And then it hit you. Din wasn’t being reckless just for the sake of it; when he was originally traveling alone he would just do whatever it took to finish the job as quickly as possible to just get it over with and be done with it. He was so used to traveling on his own, to being alone, that he often forgot that there were people who cared about him now. Maker, you felt so stupid; while you originally meant it as an angry insult, you quickly realized that he indeed did not think how you would feel if he died.

A deep feeling of shame started crawling up your chest and constricting your throat. Feeling childish for your outburst and angry at yourself for not seeing it sooner, while still feeling upset over thinking he was gone for good this time. You overreacted, you told yourself, and guilt was threatening to consume you whole. How were you going to face Din again? He probably thought you were just a pathetic, whining child, exactly how you felt right now. The pain on your hands didn’t feel so bad now with the way your heart was clenching painfully tight on your chest.

So absorbed in your own spiraling guilt you didn’t realize Cobb had already parked the speeder in front of the cantina back in town. Swinging a leg over the side of the vehicle, he hopped off but before walking away he gently grabbed your wrists, wary of your injured hands.

“He just did what he did to protect us. To protect you.”

And that was the nail on the coffing of your shame and guilt. The tears you were so desperately trying to hold back started cascading down your cheeks, a sob lodged in your lungs. Getting out of the speeder as fast as you could without toppling over in the sand you quickly ran inside the cantina and up the stairs towards the small room you were sharing with Din. In your haste to get to your room and under the covers you didn't even notice the black visor of a helmet staring your way from the bar.  

Finally in the safety of your shared room you leaned heavily back against the door at last acknowledging the turmoil of emotions swimming in your head and in your heart. While finally letting yourself cry freely, you couldn’t give in completely to the sobs that wanted so desperately to fly up your throat as anyone could hear it from downstairs. Instead, you felt yourself slide against the door and onto the ground, shoulders shaking and head tucked between your bent knees. 

After what felt like hours you heard a hesitant, almost silent knock on the door you're still slumped against. Your head was pounding from holding back sobs and you didn’t feel like speaking to anyone but that would be just downright rude. Getting up and swiping across your cheeks to get rid of the evidence of your despair, even though your tears had already dried, you opened the door, instantly regretting it.

Mando’s helmet was unreadable as he stared at you, his visor giving nothing away. Opening the door wider and stepping back into the room you allowed him in, but you kept your back to him. You heard the door close softly behind him and his boots coming further into the room, followed by a shuffling sound, as if he was going through his things. Or maybe he was going through your things. Oh, Maker, was he packing your stuff? Was he going to kick you out? Would he really-

“Let me look at your hands.” his stern yet soft voice cut through your inner rambling. Out of all the things he could have said, that was the last one you were expecting, prompting you to turn your body sideways and glance at him out of the corner of your eyes.

“What?”

“Let me take a look at your hands, Cyar’ika.” turning fully towards him you caught a glimpse of a medkit clutched in his hands and a wave of relief washed over you. Nodding, you sat at the edge of the bed and waited for him to start assessing your injuries. He knelt down in front of you, gingerly grabbing your hands, holding them in his own, palms facing up. A small hiss escaped from his modulator as he pulled out a bottle of bacta spray to apply over the blisters.

He was handling you with such care that it made you feel guilty all over again. You couldn’t look him in the visor, choosing instead to keep your gaze fixed on his gloved hands. The cooling sensation of the bacta was wonderful against your palms, but did nothing to soothe the ache in your heart. He was being so gentle, why was he being gentle?

Din kept working on your hands, hoping to start fixing some of his faults. A sudden whimper made his head snap up so quickly it almost gave him a whiplash. 

“I’m sorry.” you whispered. Although you wouldn’t look directly at him, he could see the trail of crystalline tears falling down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, Din, I’m so sorry!” he could hear the desperation in your voice.

“What for, Cyar’ika?” he asked in the gentlest voice he could muster, the one he often used when talking to the kid. 

“I-I was so rude to you a-and-'' your hiccups cut right through him, as he realized you blamed yourself for whatever your mind had conjured.

“No, Cyar’ika, no.” he shook his head and gently brought your hands close to his chest, almost tucked under his chin “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“B-but-”

“No buts. You didn’t do anything wrong.” oh how he wished he could kiss each and every one of your knuckles right now “If anything I should be the one apologizing, I was the one who made you worry.”

His words brought a small smile to your tired face. He stood up and brought your trembling frame into his arms, your face tucked safely into the beskar of his breastplate as you finally allowed yourself to fully cry.

“I just-” you sobbed before whispering the next sentence, which promptly broke his heart in a million tiny pieces “I don’t want to lose you.”

He shook his head. 

“You won’t” he whispered back “I promise. Ni ceta, Cyar’ika. Ni ceta.” he felt like he could cry as well.

Din laid his head on top of yours, gently whispering “I’m sorry.” over and over. 

As you slowly calmed down, you nuzzled further into his arms. Thinking with a clearer head made you realize that, while dangerous situations like the one you faced today would continue to happen, he would always come back to you, and you would always find a safe place in his arms at the end of the day. Now he had something worth coming home to.

Bonus: *gasp* “Where’s the kid?” “With Vanth at the bar.” *stare* *sigh* “Which thinking about it now doesn’t sound like a great idea at all.” *giggle*

[copiousloverofcopia]

🎄Hey there ghesties for some late Yuletide fun here is a little something!!! 🎄

We are back again for another story featuring the adorable Sister Saccharine and her beloved Copia! A little Yuletide story for my ghestie @sistersaccharine

Thank you so much for letting me continue creating Saccharine's story with you! I hope you and everyone else enjoys!!!!

Commissions are OPEN, please see pinned post for Carrd info!

The Dysfunctional Emeritus Christmas

Sister Saccharine takes a winter stroll when her fellow Sisters of Sin invite her to her first Yule celebration with the Emeritus family since her and Copia were wed. Shenanigans ensues when the family comes together in a way only an Emeritus dysfunctional Christmas could.

Also available HERE on AO3!

Read below!

The snow was glistening over the fields that once held flowers. Icicles firmly established along the branches of all the trees. And wicked chill took hold in the wind as Sister Saccharine walked along the path sitting along the edge of the grounds. The western woods, just beyond, like bare bones in the cold. Not a leaf to speak of as she heard the crows cawing in the air and noticed the family of little ruby-eyed rabbits. Their white fur barely visible as they huddled together beneath the root of a tree.

Saccharine bent down to greet them. Lifting the smallest one up in her soft mittens. Watching them warming their little body asked the yarn like a hug. Her own breath, visible in the blistering cold as she spoke.

“Oh, my little one. This must be your first winter here…poor thing. You must be so cold.” she cooed, holding him gently in her hands. Saccharine, taking a moment to think before being struck with a brilliant idea. “Here... hopefully this will help.” she told him, placing the bunny back with its family. Now covered by her sacrificed mittens, help to insulate the heat of their bodies from the bitter cold. 

It made her smile to see them warmed by her gift. Despite the winter solstice having taken hold, Saccharine didn’t mind the cold. Managing somewhere to be warmed from within. Her heart, so full and her pink-tinted nose, kissed by winter, nestled against the fabric of her favorite coat. Saccharine contentedly took in a deep inhale. Breathing in the scent of Copia’s cologne, still lingering there from their shopping trip from the day before, as she continued her walk. 

Nothing made her happier than to think of him. Her beloved husband, for only a few short months, but already a lifetime lived between them. Her thoughts were never far from him. The dear sister, unable to control the smile that reached her lips. His voice echoing sweet nothings in the forefront of her mind. 

She had often thought of him when she was alone. Even in the times when only moments had passed since they’d been together. Today was a bit different, with her thoughts occupied by the weight of Yule this year. It was to be her first Yuletide with Copia as husband and wife. Her first time as a true part of the Emeritus family, and the thought of it filled her with so much joy—and weary. 

She wanted to make a good impression on them. Hoping to consult with Ren, Secondo’s Prime Mover, and her friend for many years. She had been a great mentor to Saccharine since she first arrived at the Abbey. Surely, she would be able to empathize with her, guide Saccharine as to how she could settle the nervousness in the pit of her stomach. She knew that her friend would have the exact right thing to say to calm her. It wasn’t too long after that Saccharine swore she heard her name being called. Stopping a moment to shake off her confusion before hearing it once again. 

“What are you doing out here in the cold, we’ve been looking all over for you?” Prime Mover Ren called over to her. Saccharine turned to see her friends approaching her in the snow. The lot of them, bundled up in their winter best and carrying cups of hot chocolate in their hands. The rich smell, catching Saccharine’s attention as they drew closer. She instantly perked up. Ren, quick to hand her the extra cup she was carrying as Nova and Knell sipped away from their own.

“I am sorry, I must have lost track of time.” she laughed nervously, taking her first sip from her cup. The taste of the warm chocolate with a hint of cinnamon, glorious on her tongue as it filled her mouth. 

“I’m honestly shocked you’re not frozen solid.” remarked Sister Knell. “You…ah…not own a pair of gloves?” she continued, noticing Saccharine’s bare cold scorched hands. 

“Oh I do…well did.” she laughed.

“Never mind that Saccharine, come to Yule tonight with us!” Nova beamed, so excited to be the one to invite her. The ghoulette’s tail, swishing happily from side to side as she awaited her answer.

“You mean the ministry gathering? Isn’t that tomorrow night?” she asked her.

“What she means…” Ren continued shaking her head, “that you and Copia need to come to Secondo and I’s suite this evening for Yule celebrations. You’re an Emeritus now. This time is just for the family. Plenty of Ministry celebrations for later.” 

“Oh well of course, I am sure Copia would be thrilled.”

“Indeed, now let's get you back inside before you become a snowman.” Ren laughed, wrapping her arm around Saccharine as the four of them walked back to the Abbey. 

Saccharine spent the rest of the day getting ready. Outfits tossed to every inch of her and Copia’s bedroom as she searched for the perfect thing to wear. Settling on an adorable black dress with matching shawl, similar to her husband’s former cassock. Sheer tights and the most adorable black boots with matching bows. The focus of her outfit, a new blue sapphire encrusted necklace. Carefully draped over her decolletage—-a gift that Copia couldn't resist giving her early. 

He watched her from the doorway. A smile, pulling at the corners of his mouth as she turned back to face him. Holding out her arms and twisting around so he would get the idea of the flow of her dress.  

“What do you think?” 

“You look incredible dolcezza. Most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” he replied, his words sending a blush of pink over Saccharine’s cheeks. He quickly took her in his arms, hugging her close before planting a small kiss on her forehead. 

“Think they’ll like it?” she asked him, the worry unable to be fully hidden within the tone of her voice. Copia tilted her chin up to face him. 

“Saccharine, they are our best friends and family…they will love you even if you wore a potato sack to dinner.” he laughed, his wife giving him a playful tap to the chest. 

“I know, I know. I just want to make a good impression; you know what I mean?”

“I know. This is perfect…you are perfect. I promise.” he assured her. Saccharine, hugging him once again. Gripping him so tight, never truly wanting to let him go. This lovable, silly man who always knew the right thing to say. 

Finally, hours later, they had made it. The two of them standing in wait before the door of Secondo and Ren’s Papal suite after ringing the bell.  “Are you ready amore?” Copia asked her, feeling her uneasily squeezing his hand.

“Ready.” she told him, taking a deep breath. Her nerves, on edge for what may come next. When the door opened, Saccharine was awestruck. The suite was lavishly decorated. All of the Yuletide trimmings on full display. Garland lining every surface, with bright warm lights that twinkled a delicate glow. Ornate holly wreaths, hung carefully on the walls and a sprig of mistletoe in every doorway. The beautiful glow of candles, serving to fill the room with a warm ambiance which complemented the scent of poinsettias, cinnamon, and pine.  

It was clear to Saccharine that Prime Mover Ren had spared no expense when it came to Yule. After all, an Emeritus celebration was always a bit of a show, but somehow, she had managed to make it still feel cozy and quaint. The warmth and inviting nature of it, reminding Saccharine of the Christmases she had back at home. A bittersweet smile sweeping across her face just as Ren spoke.

“You know the party's ALL the way inside, right?” She laughed, catching Saccharine’s attention before Copia and her finally breached the threshold of the door. “Would you both be a dear and put these candies in the stockings for the children. I have been meaning too, but I am swamped in the kitchen with dinner. Primo has taken over and has been shooing everyone but me and Knell out all afternoon." Ren told them, handing over the sack of candies to Saccharine.

“Oh…why yes of course.” Saccharine smiled. The two of them took to the mantle located in the main parlor, placing little chocolates and peppermints in each of the little ones' stockings as they carried on.

“They are so small.” Copia remarked, sending a sweet glance her way. They were, and charming just as everything else and the look on her husband’s face made Saccharine wonder if their own mantle would be home to small stockings someday. It was a small moment between them that made her heart soar as she filled the stockings. When she went to open the last of them her eyes widened in surprise. There, all curled up together and sleeping peacefully in the bottom was little Gnocchi and Rigatoni. Copia took a look for himself, placing a finger over his lips, hushing the both of them before waking the mice.

“Sweet Lucifer Secondo the sweater looks just fine, stop fussing about it already.” Ren said as she reappeared to check on them. Secondo huffed and crossed his arms as Ren went on, rolling her eyes as she tapped Copia’s shoulder. “Papa, do you think you can help us with reaching for something in the kitchen?”

“Oh course, I will be right back.” he told Saccharine as they headed into the kitchen. It made Saccharine a bit nervous to be left on her own, especially since Secondo. She never was quite sure how to approach him. It was moments like this Saccharine knew having Copia by her side always made everything seem more pleasant and comfortable. 

It was the first time she had been to any gathering as an official member of the Emeritus family. Trying her best to hide her anxiety behind a soft smile, she turned to face out into the belly of the room. Immediately taking note of Secondo sitting quietly in the middle of the sofa. The former Papa was serving as both a jungle gym and lion tamer for his many children as they chased each other around the room. 

All of them were brimming with excitement at the sight of their gifts, devastated that they would have to wait until after dinner to open them. It was then she noticed that Secondo and Ren wore matching sweaters, both black with sparkling holly wreaths and pentagrams. Saccharine immediately went to cover her mouth. Hiding her giggle at his grumpy, yet proud papa disposition. 

The two youngest of the children were playing with Nova on the floor beside the tree. The ghoulette tangled up in the tinsel like a kitten as little Lucian clapped away. Nova was always so good with the children. Her heart was so pure, one of the best friends Saccharine had ever had.

Maybe I can relax a bit after all, Saccharine thought to herself as she took a seat opposite the bunch. Secondo, sending her a knowing nod and a welcoming smile as they both watched Nova and the children play.  Suddenly from the corner of her eye, Saccharine caught sight of Sister Knell peering out from behind the door frame, leading from the kitchen. The sister’s eyes, shifting around as she snuck Nova and the children some cookies. 

It was amusing to see everyone together like this. The joy of the season, reminding Saccharine just how much she loved all her friends. When she felt she wouldn't be missed, she took her leave. Deciding to check on Copia as she politely dismissed herself. “I’m gonna go see how Copia is holding up.” she smiled as she headed to the kitchen.

Immediately as she walked inside, she saw Primo shooing Knell away from the counter. “Sorella go—go. I told you I can do it myself.” he respectfully snipped, stirring the gravy in the pot as Sister Ren began making the final touches to the pies. 

“Just trying to help out Peepaw…don’t get your panties in a bunch.” Knell winked. Saccharine smiled softly at her. Knell was quite the character and even though they had become fast friends, Saccharine was sometimes unsure of how to read her. Primo must have sensed this. He, better than anyone able to pick up on Saccharine’s mood. Caring for her, as her own father would have in his stead. 

“It’s alright piccola…you know she won’t bite. Well maybe?” Primo laughed as Knell shrugged, handing Nova another cookie, before the two of them disappeared into the dining room to help set up the table at Ren’s request.

“Agh…it's been like this all afternoon…” Ren began as she passed by Saccharine to grab the cinnamon, “...but at least Sec and her are no longer going at it.”

“We will celebrate small favors.” Primo laughed before taking a moment to pull the turkey from the oven. Filling the air with the most mouthwatering scent of thyme, rosemary, and sage.  

“I personally find it rather amusing myself—-ow!” Terzo howled, getting his hand swatted for swiping a bit of the gravy on his fingers. 

“Tieni le tue mani sporche fuori da quello stronzo, non è ancora finita.” Primo hissed, furrowing his brows and shaking his wooden spoon in his brother’s direction. 

“We are ready for the food!” Nova announced as she and Knell walked back into the room. Nova, taking Terzo’s hand to kiss the sore spot before he continued.

“Best part is the sweaters.” Terzo snickered under his breath, both him and Nova trying to contain their amusement. 

“Alright, alright that's enough…” Ren began, motioning for her and Primo to bring the rest of the food into the dinning room. “...I’m lucky I got him dressed at all this morning. I swear the man is determined to make his own Ministry little league.” she continued sending a playful wink to Saccharine. 

“Dinner children, fratello!” Primo called out as they all began making their way to the dining room. Saccharine watched as the family all filed in, each of them taking their seats. Happy faces and rumbling tummies ready for a delectable meal. As she watched them, she felt the familiar weight of arms around her waist. 

“While everything for dinner smells delicious…what I am most looking forward to is dessert.” Copia purred, his lips grazing the shell of her ear. Saccharine turned to face him, her cheeks flushed by his words. “Do you see what I see?” he asked her. His eyes, calling hers to follow as they both looked up above them in the archway to see the mistletoe hanging there.  

“Oh Copia, I love you so much.” She told him, waiting for him to make the first move. Her lips anticipating the sweet press of his against her. 

“Amore, there is no one I would rather kiss for the rest of my life than you. Sei la mia vita, mio mondo, mio tutto. ” he confessed, closing his eyes before kissing her passionately in the archway.

“Come on now you too, dinner is getting cold.” Laughed Terzo from across the room. Both Copia and Saccharine pulled apart, playfully smiling as they approached the table. Both of their hearts, pounding. Their hands still locked together as they took their seats.

The table was a sight to behold. Its length, filled with a delightful spread of savories and sweets. It was clear that Ren and Papa Primo had worked so very hard on it. Everything made their mouths water as they all began filling their plates with the bounty of food. Just as the last roll was passed and the rest of the turkey was carved, Primo began tapping at his glass of punch. Announcing a toast for the occasion. 

“May I have all your attention please.” He began, waiting for all eyes to be upon him. Even the children stopped their chatter to heed Primo’s request. Himself, more of a grandfather to them than Nihil ever could be. They loved him so very much and listened to his every word as if it were gospel. “I want to take this moment to thank our beloved Prime Mover…and Secondo, for hosting us this Yule. Such a fine spread and bountiful celebration we have here indeed.” 

“Oh It’s nothing.” Ren smiled coyly as the group all lifted their glasses of wine and punch in the air.

“I want you all to know that this year we have so much to be grateful for. Lucifer has bestowed upon us a multitude of dark blessings. It is at this time we remember that through him, we find what is truly the most important in life…and most of all this year he has blessed us with a new member to the Emeritus family—-Sister Saccharine.” Primo smiled, his eyes doing their best to conceal his tears, “We welcome you to this family with open arms and wish for you and Copia nothing but all the happiness the Morning Star can provide. Nema!”

“Nema!” Everyone cheered. Saccharine immediately felt the tears rolling down her cheeks. Copia, sending a squeeze of her hand before the two of them began staring into each other’s eyes. Saccharine, feeling so in love and loved by those around her. 

“Here, Here! Now let's eat.” Secondo called out. All of them holding their glasses out to cheers before taking a drink. Just as the swig entered his mouth, Primo immediately spit out the punch in a comical spray to his left. Nova and Terzo, erupting with laughter at the other end of the table. 

“Now that I think of it…maybe that second bottle was a bit too much.” Nova chuckled, knowing they had spiked the punch with a bit of Ghoulish rum. The whole of the room, even Primo, joined them in their amusement.

After dinner they had all gathered in the parlor. All of the children had unwrapped their presents so fast that the air filled with the sparkle of wrapping paper and ribbon. Terzo trying his best to assemble the dolls house he and Nova got little Marianna, only to have him snap the stairway while forcing the peg into the slot. 

“They don't make these things to last, you know?” he nervously laughed. 

“Well not when un pagliaccio such as yourself is in charge of building it.” Secondo barked, Terzo raising from the floor to meet his gaze. The two of them, quarreling like small children themselves while the real kids played, ignorant to their father and uncle’s antics, alongside them. 

The night had been filled with so much charm and love. Of course Nova had gotten everyone the best gifts. Something she had a talent for, even making Secondo get choked up by his pair of platinum and emerald cufflinks. Surprised that she had remembered he'd lost his old ones quite some time ago. 

After all the presents had been opened and everyone's stomachs settled, Prime Mover Ren and Sister Knell offered everyone a cup of hot chocolate. Ren, making sure she offered one to her husband, lest it find its way to his lap. Sister Saccharine had settled herself alongside Copia on the chaise. The two of them cuddled up as they listened to the crackling of the fire. The sound, just audible beyond the children's laughter.

Saccharine sighed. I don't believe I have ever had a Christmas as wonderful as this before, she thought. So excited that this would be the first of many wonderful Christmases spent at her husband's side. She sat quietly, her smile beginning to spread across her face without her realizing. 

Copia took note, watching her as she took in the scene before them. Now more than ever, feeling like a true part of the Emeritus family. With all its dysfunction and chaos, but also its love and compassion. Wondering to herself how she could have ever felt nervous before as they continued to watch the children gleefully playing with their gifts. Copia took her hand in his, inspiring her to glance up at him. Tears, filling her eyes once more as they desperately tried to balance themselves along her lashes.

“Is everything alright principessa?” he asked her. Saccharine smiled, nuzzling her face against his warm chest as they cuddled together on the sofa.

“Everything is perfect…just perfect.”

Notes:

Tieni le tue mani sporche fuori da quello stronzo, non è ancora finita.- You keep your filthy mitts out of it stronzo, it's not done yet.

Sei la mia vita, mio mondo, mio tutto.- You are my life, my world, my everything. 

un pagliaccio- clown

[agentrouka-blog]

Flying, she thought. I had wings, I was flying. But it was only a dream.

Yet when she slept that night, she dreamt the dragon dream again. Viserys was not in it this time. There was only her and the dragon. Its scales were black as night, wet and slick with blood. Her blood, Dany sensed. Its eyes were pools of molten magma, and when it opened its mouth, the flame came roaring out in a hot jet. She could hear it singing to her. She opened her arms to the fire, embraced it, let it swallow her whole, let it cleanse her and temper her and scour her clean. She could feel her flesh sear and blacken and slough away, could feel her blood boil and turn to steam, and yet there was no pain. She felt strong and new and fierce. (AGOT, Daenerys III)

I don't think Dany will be killed by any human being.

Drogon roared. The sound filled the pit. A furnace wind engulfed her. The dragon's long scaled neck stretched toward her. When his mouth opened, she could see bits of broken bone and charred flesh between his black teeth. His eyes were molten. I am looking into hell, but I dare not look away. She had never been so certain of anything. If I run from him, he will burn me and devour me. In Westeros the septons spoke of seven hells and seven heavens, but the Seven Kingdoms and their gods were far away. If she died here, Dany wondered, would the horse god of the Dothraki part the grass and claim her for his starry khalasar, so she might ride the nightlands beside her sun-and-stars? Or would the angry gods of Ghis send their harpies to seize her soul and drag her down to torment? Drogon roared full in her face, his breath hot enough to blister skin. [...] In the smoldering red pits of Drogon's eyes, Dany saw her own reflection. How small she looked, how weak and frail and scared. I cannot let him see my fear. She scrabbled in the sand, pushing against the pitmaster's corpse, and her fingers brushed against the handle of his whip. Touching it made her feel braver. The leather was warm, alive. Drogon roared again, the sound so loud that she almost dropped the whip. His teeth snapped at her. (ADWD, Daenerys IX)

I think she will seek refuge in the dragon, one way or the other, and seal her own fate. Choose her own fate, even, rejecting whatever alternatives there may exist for her that represent defeat.

There is no motive anyone can offer up for successfully killing her that would match the tragic poetry of self-destruction. The heart in conflict with itself is not about whether or not it's right to kill Dany in a vulnerable moment. It's about Dany's heart, about Dany's choice between life and power, and choosing self-destructive power.

[circadeacademia]

These days, I deliberately hold your hand and watch how your green veins spread like a bald tree struck by lightning twice. Once for damage, twice for salvation. The cushion of your palms are worn out like the sad sofa in my living room but at the end of the day, only the sofa keeps company with my insomnia.

My standards have hit the pits of hell lately as I water the bald tree twice a day and get blisters on my lips frequently. Your branches have successfully pierced my heart…. I'll uproot it next spring for you.

All this life I left in blood trails of years— could've been mosaics on a ballroom floor; could've been an enchanting spell in mysterious calligraphy; could've been mindless sandy scribbles being washed away in the last daylight. But it's night and the soil took my heart.

Can you tell, I am see-through under the moon with a giant gaping wound for ventilation? A wound the size of your palm and just enough to grow a life-sized tree.

I love when you call me goddess of wreckage and wildflower. This ostentatious power — from earth, on earth, to earth. Would you call me the same if I was a worm roaming earth, free from salvation?

— circadeacademia

[idiotwithanipad]

A part 2 to the Angst/Fluff cause I didn't want it to end sad tbh✿

(TW: Fist fights, blood, childbirth, Incestuous relationship mentioned (I'm so sorry but that's just the canon, I'm sorry🫥 confirmed in s2Xe4 and s3Xe5)

Shul crawled back into the dug out chalk pit beneath the cliff he and his younger brother, Rogh, had been taking shelter in. The new home for their far away tribe. The night had been long, sorrowful. Rogh hadn't slept even for a minute, his hours were spent stoking the fire, fiddling with the wolf fur at his wrist, shuffling back and forth against the wall where he sat. He stared for hours at the entrance to the cave, pondering. Wondering what had became of his mate after he bid her farewell to go on this long voyage.

Shul squated down by the fire and dropped some snow onto the flames to extinguish them. The sharp hissing shook Rogh from his own head and he glanced up at Shul who gripped his spear and flug his leather satchel over his shoulder. Shul faced Rogh and held out the other spear.

"We leave now, find tribe and bring back here. They be home then". Shul seemed to have gained some urgency after last night; Rogh's concerns for their sister had ignited a nagging fear deep within his own heart too.

Rogh nodded and got to his feet, taking the spear from Shul's hand and gripping it in his own.

"Me walk ahead, you step in my tracks behind, then we no be followed by rival tribe. They think there only one and not come searching for fight". There was a deep rumble under Rogh's grunts and growls as he and his brother communicated in their native way.

Shul agreed with a nod, and the two men climbed through the entrance one after the other and out onto the vast expanse of deep, white snow, undisturbed by any man or creature. Rogh scanned the white surroundings and sniffed the frosty air for a moment before looking back over his shoulder at his older brother.

"Okay. It clear, we go" Rogh growled, as he took one drawn out step forward, the snow and ice beneath his wolf skin boot crunched and grinded as Shul waited for the opportunity that Rogh's boot print was exposed, allowing Shul to start behind him.

Rogh's plan went accordingly; Shul silently tracked behind, literally following in his little brother's swift footsteps for a change. A deep rooted determination seemed to drag Rogh through the hills and valleys, back towards the place where they had to leave their tribe. His nostrils flaring and his cheeks hollowing with each breath he took, his eyes focused on an invisible target and his brow arched and heavy.

Shul, at multiple points in their long treck, almost thought of begging Rogh to slow down; his mammoth skin boots soaking in the snow and his feet feeling like they'd shatter like thin ice if he hit them against a hidden rock. Rogh didn't slow down, thick snow and blistering wind pelted the men, and it didn't slow him down. He reached up every ten seconds, or so, to wipe the fresh, swiftly gathering snowflakes from his lashes, but he stared straight ahead through the mountains and trees.

"Rogh! Stop, now! It big cold! Sky big angry! We walk for whole two day with no stop! We find shelter, Rogh, now!" Shul reached his icy hand forward and gripped Rogh's shoulder, a thin layer of crusty snow matted into the once pristine furs. Rogh disregarded Shul's grunts and barks and kept moving forward, yanking his shoulder out of Shul's grip. Shul let out a yowl of fury and grabbed Rogh's spear, yanking it from his younger brother's hand.

"AY! Give back!" Rogh barked, spinning around to find the spear. Shul disregarded Rogh's demand and sheathed the spear down the back of his freezing furs. Rogh's jaw protruded forward and he let out an angry puff of hot air from deep within his chest.

"We make walk longer before! We do again! Riva been waiting for new home too long! Rest of tribe could be with Moonah, we no know! Need KEEP walk!" Rogh's anger boiled and spilled over at Shul's utter disregard for their innocent tribe left to suffer in the cold.

"You just want get back to puddle water, that all you think 'bout!" Shul spat, he practically curled his lip at Rogh who now turned a blind eye to the 'step in my tracks' plan. The crazed and delirious brothers began circling each other like caged animals, daring each other to make a move.

"You stay here if want! Go back and wait in new cave! Me go on! Get Riva and tribe back safe! Riva and baby deserves safe! Riva-!" Rogh almost finished his sentence, when he heard something from Shul that he never wanted to hear, and something he never thought he WOULD hear.

"RIVA NOT JUST YOUR SISTER!"

Rogh lunged at Shul, gripping his throat and tackling him down into the deep snow. His hands, pumping with fury and adrenaline, gripped at whatever they could latch onto. Shul's hands came up to rip at Rogh's wrists, but he was too cold and slow to avoid each stinging blow, each bone crunching punch that connected his bearded jaw with Rogh's fists.

The wind swirled and howled around them like an eyewitness begging them to fight harder, to fight for longer. Rogh roared and screamed at Shul, pounding his fists down into his stomach and chest. Shul kicked and clawed, he'd managed to grip Rogh's furs and throw him down into the snow a few times and attack, but that only seemed to add more flames to Rogh's fire.

Rogh was back on top of Shul, his teeth threatening to bite off his brother's ear if he clamped his iron jaw down any harder. Shul, in a tornado of fury, reached down to his leg and retrieved what he should've used minutes ago. A knife, crudely fashioned out of a Smilodon's tooth. He let out a furious roar and slashed at Rogh with the speed of Moonah's light.

Rogh yelped and fell back away from Shul, pushing himself back through the deep snow till it practically spilled over his shoulders and down his heaving chest. Shul rose back to his feet, rubbing his bloodied ear with his free hand, panting and staring his little brother down, daring him to get back up. Only for his demeanor to drastically change once he'd realised what he'd just done.

Rogh felt no pain, no cut, no blood, save for his nose and brow. His eyes flicked down to his left arm, where his furs should've been. What was left of them where tatters, the torn fur and loose hanging skin from the wolf it came from. He lifted his arm to inspect the damage to his furs. The pieces hung limp and lifeless at his side, and a breath got caught in his throat as his Adam's apple bobbed up and down like an empty egg shell in the river.

No. Shul wouldn't do that, would he? He couldn't. That's not how they were raised. Their father taught them that if two brothers had a disagreement, they'd settle it with fists and teeth, not knife and spear.

Rogh's face, empty of the previous rage he felt, looked back up at Shul who inched his way closer, the knife loosely clutched in his blue, trembling hand.

"Rogh?... Me not mean- me not- not make think good-" Shul didn't have the words, nor the ability to explain how sincerely disgraced and disgusted he felt with himself.

"You not mean for knife?... "Rogh finished, wiping his bloodied nose against his fur cuff.

"Not mean for knife, Shul just angry and tired. And cold. And really want palm full of puddle water... " Shul huffed, shoving the knife back down into his boot.

He lent out a icy hand towards his little brother, gathered in the snow and getting wetter and colder by the second. Rogh took his hand and heaved himself up with a pained groan.

"We both have palm full of puddle water. Once tribe home safe... " Rogh didn't smile, nor did he pat Shul on the shoulder as usual after settling a disagreement. His eyes remained empty and his jaw set like a steel cage. He turned on his heel and continued on through the snow and wind, quickly disappearing into the distance.

The tribe were home now, at their new home. The children already surrounding the fire and sleeping beneath their blankets of furs. The elders giving praise to Shul and Rogh for such a find; this had been an upgrade from their old cave, this one had a smaller entrance so no lions or bears could enter and pick anyone off like before. Completely hidden from rival tribes and out of sight, it was the safest place to raise their children.

Rogh sat beside Riva, who's condition had worsened. She could barely hold her head up to look at him. Two elders in the tribe sat opposite them, partially hidden behind the 'adult' fire in the cave. Their sullen faces stared at the woman in concern and deep pity; to lose her life so young in such a way, it wasn't uncommon, but they'd prepared for the worst and hoped for the best.

Every now and then, she'd drop off into slumber, her head thumping against Rogh's arm as he searched for all the signs that she was still alive. His eyes set onto the flames, in a daze from the previous days events; the treck it took to find this place, the fear of not knowing if they'd see their tribe again, and never knowing if their sister had already had the baby, or if she survived the birth.

A long time passed. Almost everyone in the tribe had fallen asleep amongst each other. The fire had died down to a comfortable crackling ember mound, and Rogh could feel his eyelids grow heavier and his eyeballs get dryer, as though someone had just rubbed dirt into them. A scream echoed through their new cave. Men, women and children roused at the noise and huddled together for safety.

Rogh bolted back to reality and looked to his sister who writhed and squirmed against the earthy floor. Her hands gripped her stomach, which at this point, Rogh was surprised hadn't burst. Rogh began to go into a frenzy, alerting the elder woman of the tribe who had delivered many babies, even himself, and his parents.

The elder woman's wrinkled eyes widened and her slightly bristled chin dropped as she shuffled her way closer to the screaming woman. A patch of fresh liquid surrounded Riva, and the elder knew exactly what was going on. She turned to Rogh with an eerily calm expression.

"It time"

It was a drawn out time. Even the snow outside seemed to have fallen in slow motion. The other mothers in the tribe huddling their own children away from Riva and turned their heads away so that they wouldn't see. Rogh was given the task of holding up a blanket of mammoth pelt to use as a curtain, obscuring Riva and the older woman behind it so that they could have privacy. He looked over his shoulder at them every few second's to see if they had made any progress, expecting the worse but hoping for the best.

The birth took a shorter amount of time than Rogh would've thought, given how big his sister's stomach had gotten. Rogh grit his teeth and bolted his eyes shut when his sister's final blood freezing scream vibrated through the cave. Silence followed. A frightening silence; Rogh had actually feared he'd gone deaf. He risked a look over his shoulder, and once he did a double take and realised what he saw behind him, he absentmindedly let his arms drop down still holding the pelt.

The elder woman rose from her knees, it took her much effort but she managed just fine with the aid of her spear. Her stone face remained as solid as always, but a soft twinkle shone in her eyes as she approached Rogh.

"Girl is born. She breaths. She have two arm and two leg. She healthy. Keep her warm and she survive".

Rogh's eyes shifted from the elder woman to his still alive sister, her face red and soaked with sweat. She gazed down at a bundle of pelts in her arms, huffing softly and wiping gently at the pelt's contents. Her eyes lifted momentarily and her hand beckoned Rogh forward.

"Come meet daughter~"

[rattusrattus3]

the other day i rewatched one of your lookbook videos that had a song for each outfit and the single Wingnut Disherwashers' Union song got me into folk punk, and now a week later i am head over heels for the genre.

also, just out of curiosity, would you considering the song Blister in the Sun by the Violent Femmes a folkpunk song? i'm not sure, it's on my folk punk playlist called 'is this folkpunk?' so. yeah.

(i'm really liking the songs 'Nice Bongo . . . [f-slur]' by 37 Cents, Love Letters by Pigeon Pit, and I Listened by Apes of the State)

thanks for being the final push to get me into this genre that i have been teetering on the edge of for a while :)

HELL YEAH folk punk has such a special place in my heart !!! (My fav bands are ramshackle glory, Johnny hobo and the freight trains and ofc wingnut (pat the bunny also has some good stuff, and cud eastbound, though that might like a little more folk than punk sometimes )) (if you’re looking for recs ☺️)

To your question,

Tbh I don’t have tons of musical knowledge in terms of where certain genres begin and others end, but I can totally see elements of folk punk Blister in the sun (like the lyrics, certain vocals, the strummy guitars….) anyway imo as long as You like it and it fits into Your playlist , that’s all that matters ! (Or at least that’s how I tend to approach my own playlists I make!)

I’m so glad you’re finding more love for such an awesome genre !!!!

Hope you find even more bands to love 🥳🥳🥳

[lady-of-imladris]

Heyyy pls could u tell us more about the baking season? What do h guys bake?

hi babe! SO. Baking. In Austria. During December. A HUGE THING!!!

The gist of it: Get your grandma and be prepared to labour in the kitchen for DAYS. Always have softened butter on hand, and more nuts and chocolate than you think you'll ever need!

So basically the goal is to bake a TON of different tiny little treats, throw them all together into a box and it's called "Krapferl" or "Weihnachtskrapferl" (Weihnachten is Christmas in German). Krapferl are apparently also a wedding tradition? I did not know that!

(additional info: The Germans call it "Weihnachtsbäckerei". They. Are. Wrong)

Also the thing with Krapferl is they. Dont. Go. Bad. You have that stuff the WHOLE month as a little afternoon treat!

Lots of pics and descriptions under the cut!

So this is a generic picture of Krapferl, as you can see there is a lot of chocolate involved! Some classic ingredients are: chocolate, jam (usually apricot), coconut?, and NUTS. A LOT. of nuts. You might be wondering about the pink stuff. PUNSCHKRAPFERL!!

Let's get into some classics.

The first thing one usually thinks of when it comes to Krapferl is Vanillekipferl (Vanilla Crescents??)

They contain almonds and ...vanilla!! The trick with these is to make them in advance because they are crumbly as fuck when fresh!

Another classic: Linzeraugen (Auge is Eye and Linz is a city in Austria. Weird name)

The dough is basic and then you just put a cookie, top it with apricot jam and then for the "lid" you have another cookie except you have some holes (or only one hole, or a star or heart...) in the top.

Now the DOUGH. You can make a lot of different Krapferln with this dough by simply adding chocolate or nuts or something, but you might get called lazy by my grandmother because if you only have to make one dough IT DOESNT COUNT!!!

My personal favourite (and also what I made this week): Honigschnitten (Honig is honey and Schnitten is just the shape)

THESE are SO GOOD!!!!

It's layers of a dough that contains honey and layers of vanilla buttercream topped with chocolate and they are THE TASTIEST LITTLE FUCKERS!!!!! But really hard to make (I have blisters from rolling out the dough!!). Depending on what recipe has been passed down from GENERATIONS in your family, the dough might contain chocolate, the buttercream may contain chocolate. IDK but whatever old lady you ask, if you didn't use HER recipe, you did it wrong.

Punschkrapferl (Punsch is a type of alcohol?)

MUST be pink!! I think it's sponge cake?? filled with chocolate, jam and rum

While we're at the topic of rum... RUMKUGELN (Rum balls)

These are basically chocolate and rum, rolled in either coconut or chocolate sprinkles. They are a TRAP for children!! Because you see the chocolatey goodness and think it will taste good but theres SO MUCH ALCOHOL IN THEM!!! They may also contain a cherry (or a sour cherry?), be careful not to bite down on the pit!

I THINK those are the most basic ones? Pretty sure I could go on for another hour or so (I'm procrastinating on an assignment anyway)

[wonderpommey]

So here are my predictions that no one asked for about the end for Roman! Locked up in a cage, forever unable to confront anyone, let alone himself? Symbolic death in a murder suicide of doom or standing up for someone he loves?

Every season so far has pitted Logan v. Gerri/Sibs for dominance over his heart, it was crazy to imagine that this season, despite Logan’s death, would be any different, it just magnified both sides.

Roman’s arc this season is his desire, born out of misplaced guilt, to be everything he thought Logan wanted him to be in 4x02, but arguably since forever (See my S3 posts); a ruthless alpha toxic fuck who ‘kills’ women, starting with the one he loves.

But that’s just Roman’s paranoid interpretation of Logan’s wishes. It’s what you do when you can only project what you think dad wants and you think it’s most certainly the worst-case scenario, the one that hurts you the most. Logan as God directing Abraham to kill his beloved son Isaac. But preventing it at the last moment, because if God lets you kill that which you love, he’s just another monster. In lieu of an angel, Logan sends Tom (How many times has Roman asked if they should kill Tom this season btw), asking if it’s done already.

Is that what Logan truly wanted? Logan is disgusted by the idea that his son wants an older woman, respecting her competence above his nepo birth right, but he doesn’t really want Roman to fire Gerri to prove something to him. What he wants is for Roman to be able to turn away from ‘love’ and loyalty, if the business requires it. In fact, the pure distraught manic emotion Roman is unleashing, trying to be something he’s not, is the opposite of what Logan wanted.

What I hadn’t necassarily anticipated was that in doing so, Roman doesn’t just deny his true longings, he creates actual hurt and pain for the people he loves and the wider world. As Gerri turns away (and puts her shoes back on, covering the Achilles heel he was for her) as his sibs strike out on their own, his hurt - which he can’t acknowledge as his needs and wants are what he’s always been punished for, they can’t be expressed - grow and create anger. Which he misdirects at everyone but the one person who deserves it, Logan. Roman has only allowed himself one outburst of anger at Logan and has lived to regret it ever since.

The show has always been a blistering indictment of patriarchy and capitalism as it pertains to the essential human need for love (RIP reddit bros who thought this was fictional apprentice). The poison drips through… Repressed longing for love, connection, affection, trust & loyalty creates hurt, which creates anger, which creates evil. And men become so hurt by women’s rejection of them (which they do for their own survival!), that they start hating them.

And symbolically, we’ve had Roman as this murderous messenger to Gerri, but he actually ended up killing his dad, then murdering Gerri again only to pull out the blade because he’s him and he couldn’t actually do that. Then she grabbed his bloody hand and sank the knife back into her heart and brought her red painted nails to his throat (see this is how it’s done Roman, that’s how you kill. Here’s your last chance to learn and survive). As he loses what he intrinsically wants, he discovers that nothing matters and he sets the actual world on fire. If he wants to die now because the cognitive dissonance is too great, there’s no way he won’t want to die by Gerri’s hand, no way he won’t want her eyes on him as his humanity, his last hope for love, leaves his body…

Can Roman break the cycle of anger, serve Gerri’s (or even another woman’s) interest, identify and say something he feels, leave Waystar? I doubt the show will want to say anything so hopeful and will instead focus on Shiv’s pregnancy; minuscule hope, and very likely doomed repetition of the cycle.

And just your friendly reminder that Kieran and Jesse and Mark walked away for 20mn as Kieran had totally misread the meaning behind Roman’s last scene and that Kieran spins his own fanfic about how Roman ends up… so good luck!