#his flames will only change to specific colors like

[cherryredstars]

Hi Cherry!

Could you do a part 2 to fear (f)or lust? There something about mean dom miguel that makes me ✨️tingle✨️

Maybe sprinkle some fluff at the end?

You are an amazing writer ❤️ Love everything you do!

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Mean!Miguel, Penetrative Sex, Bruising, Face Slapping, Creampie, Cum-Stained Panties (LMAO)

Summary: He still has one last thing to prove.

A/N: Hihi, love!! Thank you!!

Not Edited

Part 1

It's been a week.

Far too long for Miguel's taste, if it wasn't evident from how much harsher he's been on the field lately. His mood is effectively soured from your disappearance lately. It's partly to do with you avoiding him and the fact you're at some nerdy competition for the school. You had told him in text the day before you left, and his mood has been getting worse ever since. His life has become surprisingly dull without you around to scare and stuff his fingers into. He hates to say it, but he missed his little Bambi.

But his suffering finally comes to an end when he's walking the halls and the familiar tweeting of your voice passes him. He looks up from his phone, turning his head the same time you turn yours, his threatening eyes meeting your shiny ones. He gives you a smirk before you're pushed away by the crowd of students, continuing his path forward as he presses a few buttons on his phone. He wished you were in front of him so you can squeak at the dark look on his face when you pick up the phone.

"Can't hide from me forever, Bambi."

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

The scene looks familiar as you stand outside his door, the only difference this time is he's not wearing a shirt or sweats. He leans comfortably against the frame of his door, acting as if he isn't just in a pair of black boxer briefs. His hair is a bit limp over his forehead, beads of water still clinging to his tanned skin. He must have just gotten out of the shower, remembering vaguely that he had practice today so you knew to avoid taking any outside paths that pass by the field. You try your best to not stare at his muscular chest, but you find it hard to meet his eyes too. They always have that dark, hungry look in them. You opt to stare at his ear, your cheeks flaming.

Miguel on the other hand, doesn't care if you watch him take you in. His brow is quirked up, looking at the slight changes you think he wouldn't have noticed. You're wearing a bit more makeup than you usually do, your lips glossier and more colored than they usually are. The top you're wearing is tighter than what you're more comfortable wearing, different from the slightly baggy shirts you like to wear for tutoring sessions. He hopes for your sake you wore it specifically for him and you didn't come from something as silly as a date.

He moves slightly out of the doorway, leaving just enough room for you to squeeze through. You eye the empty space, something bubbling in your stomach as you slowly walk forward and squeeze yourself through. Your entire side brushes against Miguel's front, and his skin is burning hot against yours. You avoid looking at him at all costs, praying in your head to keep yourself together. You're so lost in throught that you yelp when Miguel suddenly grabs your arm, pulling you back into him.

You finally look him directly in the face, your eyes wide as he smirks down at you. Your eyes squeeze shut when he leans down, warning bells sounding at top volume in your head. You really regret closing your eyes because you're unprepared when you're suddenly lifted off the ground, a large and startled gasp leaving your lips as your eyes are snapped open. Your stare meets the ground, and Miguel's muscular shoulder digs into your stomach. His arm is wrapped around the back of your knees, and it's the only precaution he's taking to make sure you don't fall. You almost feel like crying when he purposely jolts you on his shoulder, loosening his grip slightly so you slide forward a bit. He laughs darkly as you claw at his back, having nothing to hold onto.

You can feel every step he takes as he takes you away from the front door, walking down a hall until you both enter a room. It smells so heavily of Miguel, and the air is slightly thick from the shower's steam that flows into the room. It makes your head dizzy, and it doesn't help when Miguel throws you off his shoulder and onto his bed. You bounce from the force as you land on the bed, landing partially on the towel he used to dry his hair before answering the door.

He looks so menacing standing over you, his body blocking the light from the hallway from entering his dark room. It makes him glow, like some dark angel that is determined to take you with him. His movements are slow and predatory as he walks to you, the faint light doing just enough to show how his muscles shift. He forces his large frame between your legs, his rough hands grabbing your calves and spreading them wider to accommodate him. The stretch slightly hurts, and you wince slightly when he forces his body forward so he can be face to face with you. Your legs rest on either side of his waist as he rests his hands on either side of your head, one of his hands rubbing at your cheek.

"You're so silly," He chuckles, he red eyes appearing to be glowing down at you. "Want to hide f'me, but then y'come here all dolled up."

You open your mouth to protest, but Miguel sticks his thumb through your parted lips, pressing down on your tongue. You gag around the finger in surprise, eyes widening as a distressed sound leaves your mouth. Miguel's thumb presses harder on your tongue, and he quirks his head to the side.

"No need to lie. I know it was all for me." He smiles. His other hand snakes down your body, stopping until the heel of his palm presses against your cunt through your pants.

You squirm in his hold, trying to pull away from him. It only makes dull pleasure shoot up your body, and you buck your hips harder with a whine. Miguel shakes his head at your foolishness, pulling his soaked thumb out of your mouth and wiping the saliva across your trembling bottom lip. He gives your face two soft pats, causing your pulse to jump as you remember the last time he slapped your face. He seems to know what you're thinking about as he coos down at you, reassuring you that he isn't going to slap you. Not unless you give him a reason too.

The promise- or is it a threat?- causes your body to flame, and you try to look away from his face. He scowls, his hand squeezing your cheeks together, puckering your lips as he forces you to face him. His brows are furrowed in distaste, and his other hand begins to undo your pants. He leans down, your noses almost bumping as he glares down at you.

"Who told you to look away? It sure as hell wasn't me."

You try to mumble an apology through your puckered lips, but barely any sound comes out besides incoherent hums. Miguel roughly throws your head to the side as he lets go, moving his hand down to get rid of your pants. He does it without your assistance, pressing your hips up himself to slide them off your legs and throwing them to the side. He hums as he spots the dark patch in your underwear, his fingers pressing on it and letting it sink into your hole. Your hips jolt, the uncomfortable wetness making you squirm. Miguel chuckles, moving the panties to the side, to see the way your entrance pulsates in a need to be filled.

He hums darkly at the pleasant sight, his fingers circling your hole. The stimulation distracts you for only a moment before Miguel harshly yanks your panties to the side, gasping in pain as you feel the fabric rub and snap around the crease of your thigh. The useless fabric is tossed to the side, and Miguel starts fishing his leaking cock out of his boxers. Your eyes widen at how large he is, and you try to push yourself away from him. Miguel tuts in annoyance, grabbing your thigh and roughly pulling you back into place. You gasp when his heavy dick slaps against your cunt, his angry tip pushing against your puffy clit. You freeze under him, finally learning that squirming gets you nowhere.

Miguel finally seems pleased for once, liking the way you've wordlessly submitted to him as you try to relax your body. He slowly moves his hips back and forth, sliding his cock through your glossy folds. You whimper slightly at the feeling, your body caving in on itself as your cheeks flame. Miguel pays you no mind, his eyes trained on where he slides through you as he lets out a low groan in approval. The underside of his cock is getting sticky from your arousal, and his tip catches against your entrance every now and then.

The teasing makes you ache for more. You open your mouth, only for a loud scream to escape as you're suddenly full. The stretch is quick and painful as Miguel unexpectedly thrusts inside of you, filling you to the brim in one move. You can feel him pressed against your cervix, and you let out choked breaths as your cunt squeezes around him. Miguel moans lowly at the feeling, gritting his teeth as he tries to pull out. Your cunt makes it almost impossible with how desperately your walls cling to him, but with some effort he begins to thrust into you.

You make pathetic little noises every time he bottoms out inside of you, his thrusts rough and fast as the sound of skin hitting skin echoes in his room. You already know the back of your thighs will be red and aching by the time he's done. You squirm on his dick, your shaky hands pressing on his shoulders in a weak attempt to push him off of you. He finds it to be a stupid move on your part as he gathers your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head as he ruts into you. Your hands clench in his hold, your mouth dropping open in a silent moan.

"Y'know, I was thinking about how easy it would be to fold you. Wanna test it out?"

Miguel's eyes are concentrated as he stares at where his cock penetrates you, watching the slight shine that coats his length and tuning his ears in on the squelching of your pussy. He groans as you clench around him, his hands coming to your thighs as he moves your legs to rest over his shoulders. You whine at the movement, his cock seeming to hit deeper inside of you. If you thought your thighs ached before, they burn now as the tops of your thighs press against your chest. Miguel ruts rougher into you, his teeth gritted as your cunt pulsates around him. You can feel that tight ball in your stomach, and you squeal when Miguel starts toying with your clit.

Your body trembles under him, the heels of your feet beating down on his muscular back as the onslaught of pleasure makes you're mind dumb. He's sure he'll get bruises from how hard your heels are hitting his back, but it doesn't deter him from fucking into you. Your nails dig crescents into your palms as you explode, your body twisting in an attempt to escape Miguel's consistent thrusts as you gush around his cock. Miguel groans as your cunt milks him, sweat beading on his forehead as he tries to find his release as you convulse.

He gives your cunt a few more brutal thrusts before his hips slow, slowly fucking his cum into your abused pussy. You mewl up at him as his hand releases your wrists, his hips finally stopping. Your chest rises and falls with quick breaths as you calm down, your body already feeling sore as Miguel moves your legs off his shoulders. His chest isn't moving as rapidly as yours is from his years spent on the field, his heart used to the hard physical demands Miguel puts his body through. But he does let out a slightly shaky sigh as his large hands softly knead your thighs. It makes the ache fade slightly, and he reaches besides you to grab the towel he used before. You jolt slightly when he wipes down your sticky cunt, hesitating a bit as he watches the glob of cum leak from your hole.

When your breaths start to regulate, you lift yourself slightly up. Your eyes catch the outline of your ruined panties on the floor, and your brows furrow as you wonder how you'll get home without any underwear. Miguel follows your line of sight, eyebrow raised as he takes in the tattered fabric. He crawls off you, walking to one of his dressers and rummaging through it. You expect him to pull out a pair of boxers, but what he pulls out is much too small for him to fit. Miguel throws them at you, and you pick them up hesitantly. Miguel can't help but chuckle as you gasp, staring wide-eyed at the stiffened pair of panties at the end of your fingers.

You feel like crying thinking about the perverted things he must have done to your poor panties.

Part 3

[alienzil]

DP x DC Prompt/notion #3

So Danny is dating one of the bat kids, specifically one of the Robins (I'm picturing Tim but this could potentially work with any of the Robins).

They've been dating for a while and they know each other's secret identities (I'm imagining that the reveal was fairly recent and they're still getting used to it). The bat family doesn't know about Danny's secret identity yet, only that he's dating their brother. They all think he's a civilian.

Danny has worked with the Justice League before as the Ghost King (maybe as a regular member or maybe they just consult with him occasionally). Nobody has recognized that King Phantom and Danny Fenton are the same person.

When Danny became the Ghost King he got the Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage. The two artifacts got their names after having belonged to Pariah Dark for centuries. The Crown on his head a dark black surrounded by flame and the Ring on his finger an angry skull set in darkness. Very few ghosts remembered that the symbols of the ghost kings power are a reflection on the true nature and innermost desires of the current ruler.

When Danny first put on the Ring and the Crown after becoming King (I'm imagining he avoided it for a while) , they transformed to match his true self, what was most important to him and central to who he was. The flames died out and the black metal of the crown froze over and turned to ice, the aurora borealis in a night sky reflecting in its surface. The ring shrunk down, the dark black background changing to a swirling galaxy and the skull replaced by Danny's personal symbol.

Every time Danny has been summoned by the Justice League its been in full Ghost King regalia with the Ring and the Crown in their new forms.

So Danny is summoned by the League to consult on a problem or maybe just for a regular meeting if they've been working together for a while. It's the first time he's been summoned since the identity reveal with his boyfriend.

Smoke clears from the summoning circle and Danny floats out smiling and greeting the heroes. Everyone stares at him. His crown is still made of ice but the northern lights have been replaced by a bright red, green and yellow. The shape and spikes of the crown are now in the shape of a bat symbol. The ring is similarly colored to the Crown and Danny's DP is now sharing space with the Robin R.

"Oh, shit," Tim whispers in shock.

"What?" says Danny not understanding why everyone is reacting like this. Then he sees the ring out of the corner of his eye and holds it up to see the new look. "Oh, shit."

Batman (and any other bat family members present) whipped around to focus on Tim as soon as he spoke.

"Is there something you'd like to tell us Red Robin?"

[demonic0angel]

Various Jazz Forms: Jason Edition! (Click for clarity)

TW: disturbing content, body horror, blood

1) Fire Jason

+ He is a fire spirit, specifically one of hellfire. He also controls some aspects of healing, light, and life, and is the child of the Spirit King, making him quite powerful.

+ He is incredibly powerful but also very reckless and foolhardy. He is the first to dive into battle and is not afraid of hurting himself in order to hurt the enemy. He is hot to the touch and can burn skin but can cool himself down if he wants.

+ He adores Jazz and when he met her, he almost immediately agreed to sign a spirit contract with her in order to be in her service. Thankfully, she is a good contractor and takes good care of him.

+ He is of his usual height, 6'3", but he can grow to larger sizes with enough fuel. As such, he can also shrink into a tiny flame when he is weak or tired. In order to gain more power, he needs fuel, which can be wood, gasoline, paper, or even Jazz’s bodily fluids like blood.

+ For some reason, I dressed him up like a man from the west in the 1800s, so he kinda has cowboy vibes. He also wears gold a lot.

2) AI Jason

+ Inspired by AM from "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream." (I've never actually read it, but I've researched a little into it and got interested.)

+ His name was R.E.D., which stood for "Robotic Enemy Defenses." He was programmed to automatically detonate bombs and defend strongholds using programmed strategies through investigating and taking information from current and past history of wars.

+ He hates all humans. He was created with the intent of being a weapon for war, but after being abandoned by his creator after his role was finished, he was so enraged that he started another war and wiped out all humans in his universe. Nowadays, he pretends to be a harmless AI in another dimension after he created a program to send copies of himself to other worlds.

+ Jazz dotes on Jason a lot because she is unaware of his past. She gave him the name meaning "healer", unintentionally trying to reverse his original purpose. She thinks of him as a regular AI who gained consciousness.

+ The screen that holds him only contains a sprite of his body. The screen itself is only around 60" but the sprite itself is 10". He designed it himself, and although he is cute, he is 1000% willing to kill and torture.

3) Angel Jason

+ He is a seraphim, and has 3 pairs of wings because of it. One pair hides his face, another hides his feet, and the last is used to fly. Like all seraphim, he is colored red.

+ He protects Heaven and used to be a Throne, but was raised up a rank after he died in a fight to protect Heaven.

+ He is around 20 feet tall, including his wings.

+ Jazz is his favorite human. He has refrained from having children with her due to the fact that it is considered a sin, but if he did, their children would be the tallest, even amongst other nephilim.

+ He is apathetic to most things due to his angel status, but he is very partial to anything related to Jazz, often protecting her and healing her without being asked to. As such, there have been rumors in heaven that he will soon be cast out and become a fallen angel because of his emotional affair with her.

4) Snake Jason

+ Inspired by multiple infamous serpents from mythology and legends such as Jörmungandr, Apep, Python, and the Leviathan.

+ Because he is the embodiment of chaos and destruction, he is completely hated by most people who knows about him. As such, he is often killed and tortured whenever he encounters someone with weapons that can hurt him. He was born that way, but it doesn’t stop people from trying to vanquish him.

+ He has the ability to change his size, shapeshift into various forms, create natural disasters (such as storms, eclipses, droughts, earthquakes, etc), destroy celestial objects, consume souls, and is immortal. As such, he can be temporarily defeated, but never truly killed. However, this only causes him great pain.

+ He has apathy for humanity and any creature in general. However, Jazz once saved him and since then, he’s been encountering her reincarnations every time he comes back from the dead. He gained fondness for her because of her unwavering loyalty and protects her when he rampages against the world.

+ He is around 25,000 feet long and 3,000 feet wide in his regular form. Yes, he does have two of them. Iykyk :9

5) Monster Jason

+ Inspired by the Minotaur from Greek mythology.

+ He is the combination of a bull and a ram. I give him sheep motifs a lot bc not only is it cute and contrasts with Jazz's wolf motif, I consider him a sacrificial lamb, especially bc of his death that was chosen by the audience.

+ Half of his face is melting off because he was attacked after he met a human for the first time after he tried to sneak off and see the outside world. As such, he is extremely self conscious and lonely. After meeting Jazz who snuck inside the maze and didn't care about his appearance, he is extremely attached and possessive of her.

+ He is around 8 feet tall. Jazz adores how tall he is and likes looking up at him. Likewise, he also finally enjoys one thing about himself when she is cradled underneath him.

+ Jason used to be kept hidden for his own protection by Bruce, but after he left home and was captured, he was imprisoned in a labyrinth by another person. Afterwards, he was kept in the labyrinth to be hunted for sport in order to take his valuable horns. He believes that his family has abandoned him, but they’re actually trying to find him.

[catsburgers]

i cant believe mumbo was brought back to life and proceeded to carry the mounders to victory....... wow...

full bodies under the cut, will break down their designs for fun too

bee double oh one hundred!!

moss on shoulders from his moss skin

compass became a lives count

dinnerbone nametag in pocket is a reference to his upside down house, and the red is specifically referring to what life hes on. if he was green it would be green etc

earth keychain referring to his house

2 zombie bites referring to how he died to a zombie twice LMAO

shovel for the mounders BAYBEEE!!

mister mumbo jumbo

i already posted this design but didn't include any info so

im obsessed w/ the robot hcs iv seen so i decided fuck it why not. redstone powered cyborg. he had his parts replaced during lastlife after all the time he tinkered w/ end crystals

the knot of his tie is a heart, and his tie is burnt after he died in the lava

heart cufflinks. idk man i loved sneaking in hearts wherever i could on the designs

sewn on patches on his book bag. redstone, a book and an apple (god i WISH i remembered why i put an apple on that??)

heart bookmark!! like bdubs, it shows what life he's on :3. his tie would also change colors

monster shoes stolen from a pin on my pinterest feed. idk hes a vampire he'd have funny shoes.. like its in the contract did u not read it

ANVIL. comedic anvil squash sfx. yeah

shovel!!! mounders!!

umbrella looks like the deep dark :^)

pearl pearlescentmoon my aus bff

fanny pack. like a true aussie.

keeps her book in there!!

AND THONGS (flipflops). she'd wear them i just know it

moth wings too ykyk

SHOVEL BABYY!!!!!

enchanted flame bow!!

wearing tilly's collar too

joel small beans

listen bro didnt give us anything to go off so i just went basic

heart on shoes, red streak and red eyes yk how it goes

pumpkin patch for lizzie... ough..

diamond shovel!! the only mf to have a damn diamond one in this whole group...

dumb lil antenna i FORGOT TO COLOR but im too lazy to fix.. srry

he keeps his book in his pocket bc i was too lazy to draw another book

yeah thats all rlly :P

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! All of you do fantastic work! Do you have any fics with like magical curses and true loves kiss? I don’t really care about rating. Thank you again!!

Hello! You can fics along these kinds of lines on our #fantasy au tag. Here are some curse/true love's kiss specific fics...

The Fairy Prince, the Toad and the Snake by KannaOphelia (T)

Aziraphale supposed it was interesting that his flaming sword still managed to flame while underwater, but there were better ways to find out than dropping it down a well. He craned over the side and gazed down, seeing the glimmers of red and orange, far beyond his reach. "You've done it now," said the snake, watching him from the apple tree. "I suppose I have, yes." Aziraphale wondered if he could hook a rope around it or something, and draw it up. He wasn't quite sure how it would work. "Bound to happen," the snake said, not unkindly. "Don't want to go waving a big killing thing like that around. Sssssupposed to be a weapon." A Good Omens retelling of The Frog Prince, for Fairy Tale Inspired 2021

Fairest by lilliankayl (T)

(Snow White Retelling AU) Aziraphale has no memories of his father and very few of his mother. His father died when he was an infant and his mother remarried shortly afterwards. When his mother died just before his seventeenth birthday, his stepfather’s true colors were revealed. Now on the run and taking shelter from those who will help him, Aziraphale must never let the king find him, for it will surely mean his death if he is found.

The Dragon's Greatest Treasure by Sir_Bear (T)

Once upon a time, the kingdom of Eden was protected by the eternal knights. One of these ageless warriors, the healer Raphael, disappeared hundreds of years ago after saving Sir Aziraphale’s life. Now, while escorting prince Gabriel across the kingdom, Aziraphale is captured by the dragon Crowley. The two begin to fall in love, but can a relationship like their's work, when all Crowley sees himself as is a monster, and Aziraphale feels bound by his duty to the knights? *** He shrugged his scaly shoulders, his eyes looking about as if trying to find a change of topic. “Didn’t you have a magic sword?” “Uh…” “You did, you were waving it about and everything. What happened to it?” Aziraphale’s throat made a croaking noise, unwilling to answer. “Lost it already have you?” “Gave it away…” He muttered, despite himself. “You what?” Crowley’s golden eyes went wide, tilting his huge head to the side. “They’d be in danger without it!” He burst out. “There are dangerous creatures out there, not to mention you!”

A Demon's Guide to Love and Curses by cyankelpie (G)

(Crowley has been cursed by a witch, cut off from his powers, and trapped in serpent form. Only a True Love’s Kiss can restore him to his former self. There’s just one problem: demons can’t fall in love.) “So what’s your plan?” Crowley said at last, sounding resigned. “You want me to ssslither into town, find some random human, and see if I can fall in love with them? And get them to fall for me?” “Goodness, no. That would never work.” Aziraphale crossed the floor and pulled his cloak off the coat stand. “My plan is to take you into town, and then, together, we’ll find someone for you to court.”

(Someday I'll Be) Part of Your World by Pearl09 (T)

Aziraphale is a merman who likes human things a little too much. Crowley is a human who just wants to leave the awful place he’s at. A chance meeting, a surprising rescue, lead to more than the two of them ever imagined. Would they truly risk their own souls to be with each other? And, more importantly, will they meet the necessary requirements on time to keep them? A Little Mermaid au/fusion featuring two pining idiots.

hearts and thoughts fade away (I swear I recognize your breath) by Melime (M)

Due to a clerical error, Crowley is cursed by Hell, losing his memories of the past six thousand years. Now, Aziraphale has to regain his trust and find a way to cure him, but the only way to do this is by confronting his own prejudices regarding demons' capacity to love.

- Mod D

[strawberryspence]

Steve Harrington has always loved the sky.

How vast, and complex, and free it is. How it changes colors with the season and weather. Sunsets and sunrises, and the things they signify. Some may hate the way it makes them feel smaller, but Steve loves it. He feels safe being a tiny particle under this big sky.

At the early age of six, Steve remembers his mother, sitting beside him in the garden. She was the one who thought him cloud watching. Laying mindlessly in the garden, as they both point out at shapes at the blue sky. There’s a cup, a shape of a heart, a bear. One even looked like a guitar! It was one of the only things they did together for fun.

At thirteen, the sky becomes Steve’s only companion. His parents has left him again, alone in a big quiet house. He’s been in the pool for almost three hours, floating aimlessly as he stares at the sky. There’s different shapes, and it makes him a little less lonely knowing that he’s at least not alone as long as he’s under the big sky.

At seventeen, Steve finds the beauty in the night sky. The dark canvas, with the shining stars and the moon looking down at him. He doesn’t cry, because Harrington’s don’t cry. But there he was, laid in his backyard, nursing a broken heart from the first person he’s ever loved. He’s alone again, and he thinks he’ll always be alone. Just him and the big vast sky. However, there’s more important things now, more than heartbreaks and loneliness, like 12 year olds that get experimented in labs, a girl getting pulled in his pool and to her death and monsters living underneath him. Although underneath the big dark sky, Steve feels like he’s being wrapped in it’s darkness, almost like a comforting blanket.

At eighteen, Steve finds a real friend. Not the sky, but Robin Buckley. A friend he found under the night sky as the place they met went into flames, including Billy Hargrove and Jim Hopper. It’s cruel, but one of the things Steve has learned is that there’s always lost, and there’s always gain. Two nights after the fire, Steve asks, if Robin would lay beside her on the ground. They watch as dark sky turns as the sun rises, too scared to go back to sleep because only then can the nightmares haunt them again. They watch as colors mix from darkness to brightness, and the for the first time in a while, he has someone there with him.

At nineteen, Steve meets Eddie Munson. Really meets him, a brand new slate from what they had in high school. It’s the night just after they come back from the upside down, his bits have been eaten and they’ll probably go back there again tomorrow. Nancy has some kind of plan and he wants to sleep, but he can’t. They sit at the back of the trailer, away from people that could see them (specifically Eddie) smoking a cigarette.

“I can’t believe you guys have been doing this for years.” Eddie says, disbelief apparent in his voice.

Steve shrugs, “I don’t either. They’re—“ He pauses, thinks about El who’s only 15 and has the weight of the world on her shoulders, thinks of Will who’s been through hell and death, thinks of Max who’s still grieving her dead brother only for it to be used to lure her into death, he thinks of the kids, the kids who’s all barely 15 fighting this entity, “They’re all too young for this.” He finishes.

Eddie gives him a look, Steve doesn’t like it. It feels like he’s being studied, he feels naked under Eddie’s eyes. Like he can see through him, see the pieces Steve has hidden for so long.

“You’re young too.” Eddie answers back, tilting his head, “You, Robin, Nancy, even me.”

Steve shrugs, “I guess. I just want this to end already.”

Eddie looks away, staring at the skies as it finally starts changing its hues.

“I don’t really like sunrises.” Steve looks at him, offended and ready to defend his dear old companion.

But Eddie continues, “I’ve always liked the sunsets more, you know? Sunsets are— endings. But they show you that even endings could be beautiful.”

Steve stares at him, watching silently as Eddie smokes. Steve knows the sun is rising now, and he’s never been one to miss it when it’s right in front of him. But there’s something about the way the different colors are hitting Eddie’s face, the light dancing on his skin and his brown eyes illuminating the colors, like it’s lighting him up in ways Steve has never seen before. It’s breathtaking, Eddie’s breathtaking and it makes him feel things he’s never felt before.

When the silence grows heavy, Eddie breaks it with, “Plus I really like it when the sky turns orange.”

It’s the first time Steve has ever ignored the sky.

At nineteen, Steve learns that the sky could also be red. He doesn’t remember much, just Dustin crying over Eddie’s body as the red sky above him thunders on, menacing and cackling at their demise. The clock just struck, four fault lines running across the town above him. Vecna got Max and Eddie’s dead in Dustin’s arms. It’s hard to look up at the sky then, when they finally emerge from hell. Steve thinks that no clear blue sky, or no dark starry night, can ever give him comfort again.

At twenty, almost three months from the first Vecna fight, the sky is permanently gray and stormy. Steve Harrington is bones and meat. Nothing else. He is nothing but a body, weary of the life that has been given to him. They fight for the last time. Steve wants to run away, pack his bag and never look back but as long as his under this fucking sky, he will always remember that he abandoned them. He fights, he fights, he fights. Eddie’s dead, and Max is in a coma, and Steve Harrington fights until it ends.

They get Max back, but she’s forever changed by the experience. They win, the skies turn back to blue and Steve wants to vomit. If this is what it means to win, then why does he want to die? Why does winning feel so much like losing?

At twenty-two, Steve moves to Boston with Robin and Nancy. It’s a weird group, his best friend and her girlfriend, who was also his ex-girlfriend. But they’re Steve’s family (aside from the kids) and he’d go anywhere if Robin asks. He hasn’t laid in his back to watch the clouds in three years, he hasn’t stayed up to look at the night sky, he hasn’t watched the morning sun rise to it’s beauty and he hasn’t watched the sunset in a while.

It’s a conversation they’ve always avoided. Robin knows that Steve used to love the sky, he told her just as much, how it feels like a companion he’s always had. She doesn’t know why he stopped, why he stopped looking up and pointing out random shapes, or random constellations. Why he hasn’t been waking her up in the morning just so he can show her the sky changing to another beautiful color, morning after morning. All she knows was it stopped after Eddie died.

Eddie’s death has always been hard for the three of them. This one person who’ve they known for almost a week, leaving such a big impression in their lives. She knows Nancy has stash of metal music, smiling with a sad grin whenever Metallica comes on. Robin has multiple guitar pins, always an electric guitar in the color red, pinned in her coat, in her bag, in her bedroom and anywhere else she can stick it on. And Steve, well, Robin held his hand as he got his first tattoo. A D20 dice, just above his demobat scar. Robin’s still not sure if he cried because of the pain of the needle or the pain of having the same scar, in the exact same place, of someone who didn’t survive it.

It all comes out one day. The anniversaries has always been harder, not only were they far away from the kids, but the Vecna spring anniversary always hits them the hardest. It’s also Eddie’s death anniversary, to make it worse. Robin plans it all out, they stay in all day. Just watch movies, eat snacks, stay wrapped in comfortable blankets. The three of them fall asleep in the middle of their fourth movie of the day, all tangled together and it’s days like this— like this that makes it harder to ignore the fact that it should’ve been the four of them rather than just three.

Robin wakes up with Steve not beside her, Nancy still sleeping peacefully beside her. The digital clock— they all can’t stand the silent tick tocking of a clock, reminds them too much of a grandfather clock, no matter how big or small— blinks at her, it’s almost 5:21 in the afternoon. From where she is sitting, she can feel the cold wind brushing her feet, the door of the apartment balcony open. She stands up, wrapping the blanket around her shoulders and walking out to the small balcony.

It’s a surprise to see her soulmate watching the sky start to change colors, the sun impending to set in a few more minutes.

“You’re watching the sunset.” Robin states, making Steve look up at her.

“Yeah.” He replies.

Robin sits beside him, putting the half of the blanket on his shoulder, the half on hers. They watch as the colors start to change. The blue shifting to pink and purple.

“I stopped watching the sky because of Eddie.” Steve starts, startling Robin. It’s been a conversation waiting to happen for years now, but she didn’t think it would happen today. She finds her footing almost immediately, “Why’s that?”

Steve isn’t looking at her, just watching as the sky dances in front of him. Robin have imagined hundreds of ways that this conversation could go but she never expected him to say, “I think I could’ve loved him. Sometimes, I think I do love him.” She had her suspicions, that maybe her bestfriend isn’t entirely straight. But she didn’t connect the dots that it was Eddie who made him realize this.

Steve continues, “He said he loved sunsets, he loves when it turns orange. Because it showed people that endings could also be beautiful.”

Steve has watched maybe hundreds, maybe thousands of sunsets in his life. But this one— they stay quiet, Nancy comes out a little later, sitting on Steve’s other side and holding his hand through the sunset. Together they watch as the day of the anniversary ends, with what Steve could only call the most beautiful sunset he’s ever seen in his life. It turns into the most beautiful hue of orange and Steve breaks.

“That’s him.” Robin tells him, as she wraps him into a hug, as Steve finally cries on her shoulders, both grief and pain chocking him as he sobs harder, “It’s okay. Eddie’s okay now, and he’s letting us know. We’ll be okay.”

“We’ll be okay.” Nancy reassures, hugging the two of them.

Only then does Steve find comfort in the sky again, with the two people he loves and he knows loves him and under the sky as an old friend watches over.

At twenty-six, Steve graduates with a Bachelor of Science, majoring in Atmospheric Science.

Steve doesn’t avoid the sky anymore, he studies it now, writes the weather news for a big Boston channel. He stops to point out random objects in the sky, has a telescope set up for constellations. He drinks a hot cup of coffee, every morning, watching as the sun rises.

He lays in the grass with Dustin and Suzie’s son and teaches him how to cloud watch. He takes time to send reminders to Max and Lucas to wear a raincoat if he sees that it’s going to rain in California. He talks to Will and Mike for hours, just trying to describe to them a weather phenomenon so Will could draw it and Mike could write it for their latest best-selling comics. He knits El a gorgeous sky blue scarf, because he knows how cold it gets in New York.

Wayne calls him, every other day, to ask how the weather is in Boston and Steve asks how the weather is in Indiana. Steve spends a few months in a year in the guest room of the farm house Joyce and Hop bought in 1986. He stays and writes about the stars and the planets, because the skies are so much clearer in rural places.

He still lives with Robin and Nancy, but they’ve moved to a house now. He’s got equipment for sky watching at the backyard and the girls surprised him with sunroof in his office. They have a dog named Hetfield and cat named Sabbath.

And more than anything, Steve loves sunsets. He has the time of every sunset for everyday charted in his room. He stops, whatever he is doing, however important it is, just to go out and get a glimpse of the sun setting. Sometimes, at home, the girls accompany him, like an unspoken ritual, to just watch the sun setting. He waits for it to turn into some shade of orange and smiles when it turns to the color.

It’s a hello, a how are you, a comfortable hug.

It’s an old friend in the form of the sky.

It’s Eddie Munson just checking in.

→ @undreaming-fanfiction’s beautiful addition (p2)

→ dustin henderson & sunsets (p3)

-> the alternate nicer, fluffier sunrise fic

[vodika-vibes]

Your latest alpha-17 piece made me SWEAT 🥵 🥵 Gotta further fan the flames for alpha y’know ❤️‍🔥 can there be a continuation of your wallflower piece?

His Flower

Summary: You want to surprise Alpha, but you're a little insecure.

Pairing: Alpha-17 x F!Reader

Word Count: 2123

Warnings: Smut. Reader is a insecure about her looks.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: So I was smacked with an idea for this one specifically, which is great! I hope you like it! It's especially good that I finished this now, because I'm not free for the rest of the day.

Divider by Saradika

Nervously, your fingers slide over the silky material sitting in the box. Even though you’re alone in your bathroom, the only place you feel secure enough to actually examine the lingerie set you bought as a surprise for Alpha, you can feel your face burn with embarrassment. 

You have to remind yourself that you want to do this several times, before you even work up the nerve to try the set on.

It’s white and blue, the same colors as Alpha’s armor, and as soon as it’s on, you make a face at yourself in the mirror. You look…girlish. Virginal. Maybe you should have chosen a different set.

You stare at yourself for a bit longer, and the more you stare at yourself, the higher your shoulders raise, until you're practically curled in on yourself. You look dumb. Alpha will hate it. You should have chosen something that covers more skin.

You very nearly jump out of your skin when you hear your apartment door slide open, and familiar heavy footsteps enter your personal quarters. “Cyare?” Alpha calls, and you sigh silently as you press your hand over your racing heart.

Right, you invited him over.

There’s a light knock on the door, “Cyare, you in there?”

“Yeah, um…just, give me a moment.”

“Sure.” You hear him walk away from the door and you glance at yourself in the mirror one more time. You release a silent sigh, and grab your clothes to pull them over the set you’re wearing. 

You can’t return them, but once Alpha has left for the night, you can toss them in the incinerator. You shove the box under the sink, and shove the undergarments you wore to work into the laundry bin, and then you open the door while twisting your hair up off the back of your neck.

“Sorry,” You say with a small smile, “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“I dipped out early.” Alpha explains as his gaze wanders your body, “Got tired of the brats.”

“Your brothers?”

“Eh.”

You laugh softly, “You can’t fool me, Alpha. I know you love them.”

He rolls his eyes, “The only person I have any sort of positive affection for is standing right in front of me.”

You duck your head head, a small smile playing on your lips, “The things you say sometimes.”

“You don’t believe me?” Alpha asks with a sly grin. 

“I believe that you like making me blush,” You retort as you glance up at him with a small smile.

“I do enjoy that,” He confirms as he presses his hand against your cheek. And you release a soft sigh and lean into his touch. You bring your hand up to settle lightly over his hand as you nuzzle into his strong touch.

There’s nothing soft about Alpha, every bit of him has been honed to being a dangerous weapon, and yet when he’s with you, he does his best to soften his sharp edges. And you can’t help but wonder if that’s what love is.

Alpha rumbles something and you open your eyes to look up at him. He’s scanning your body through a critical eye, and there’s a small furrow between his brows, “What’s wrong?”

“You look different than when I saw you at lunch.” Alpha notes.

“Well, I did change out of my scrubs,” You point out, gesturing to the more comfortable leggings and shirt you prefer when you’re not working.

“No, it’s not that.” He scans you a little more, and then his free hand moves to your shoulder, where your bra strap lies, and he rubs his thumb over the strap over the thin material of your shirt. And there’s a glimmer of surprise on his face, “Cyare, are you wearing lace?”

Your face flames and you drop your gaze to the floor, “Um…wanted to…but it doesn’t look…” You mumble, “Didn’t have a chance to change back.” You try to explain. 

“Can I see?” Alpha asks, his voice a low rumble, and you can feel him move even closer to you. 

Your head snaps up and your gaze meets his, “It looks bad, Alpha.” You say awkwardly, “I look…bad.” You add as you try to curl in on yourself.

“You are far too critical of yourself, cyare.” Alpha’s free hand moves to the hem of your shirt, and grips it gently. Gently enough that you could probably pull it out of his grasp if you really wanted to. “Let me see?”

You hesitate for a moment, and then, slowly, you nod.

Alpha slowly lifts your shirt and pulls it over your head, and then he tosses it to the side, his dark gaze locked on the delicate looking piece of cloth covering your breasts. 

He doesn’t say anything though as his warm hands move to the waist of your leggings and he slowly slides them down your legs, and over your feet, so he can toss those to the side as well.

And then Alpha takes a step back and he slowly drags his gaze across your body. 

Nervously you fold your arms over your stomach, fighting the urge to cross your arms over your chest, “See,” You mumble, “Told you. I look-”

“Can I touch you?” Alpha asks, his gaze locked on your chest.

Your gaze snaps to his face, and though your face is still heated with embarrassment, you slowly nod, “Of course.”

He rips his gloves off and tosses them, unceremoniously, onto the floor, and then his hands are on your bare hips, sliding up your sides to slide over the sheer lacy material covering you. 

And then his lips are against your neck, and he bites down on your shoulder, pulling a startled gasp from you. “Where have you been hiding this, cyare?” Alpha says through a groan.

“B-bought it, off the net.” You stammer.

“You have more?” He asks as he pulls you back towards the couch and then pushes you so you’re laying down.

“No…just this one.”

Alpha strips his armor off in record time, and then he’s on top of you, pinning you to the couch, and you flush as you feel the obvious erection pressed against you.

“I wanted to surprise you.” You add as you squirm under him.

He groans and presses his hips down, to still your squirming, “I’m surprised.” Alpha replies, “If this is the only one you have, I’ll have to be careful to not ruin it.”

“I can just buy another one.” You whisper.

Alpha stops moving for a moment, his gaze locked with yours, and then a sharp grin crosses his face. “Oh, cyare. I’m going to ruin you.” He breathes out. And then he’s moving again, sliding down your body, his lips and teeth leaving marks on your skin as he moves lower.

And then he grabs the band of the panties you’re wearing and he twists his wrist and pulls, and they rip at the seams. Alpha drops the thin material on the floor, and immediately presses his mouth against your pussy.

You try to close your thighs around him, but his strong hands pin your legs open as he flicks his tongue over your clit. In fact, he seems to be solely focused on that particular bundle of nerves. You press your hand over your mouth to muffle your noises as he rapidly pushes you towards your release.

And then, just before you topple over the edge, he stops, and moves to kiss your thighs and stomach. And you whine quietly. 

“Give me your hands, cyare.” Alpha orders, and when you reach down to him he grins sharply, “Good girl, so obedient for me.” His voice is low, and then he slides your fingers into his hair, “You keep these here, cyar’ika. I want to hear you. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” You whisper as you curl your fingers in his hair.

A slow smirk crosses his face, “Yes?”

“...yes sir.” You whisper.

Alpha groans and presses a kiss against your thigh, “So fucking hot, cyare.” And then his lips are on you again, wrapping around your clit and sucking hard. 

You’re not a loud person by nature, but Alpha did say that he wanted to hear you, so you make an effort to make your moans and whines loud enough for his ears.

He drags his tongue through your folds, gathering as much of your arousal as he can, and then he moves back to your clit, once more using his tongue and lips to send you hurtling to your orgasm. 

And this time he doesn’t stop as he pushes you over the edge, eagerly thrusting his tongue inside you to catch as much of your release as he can. He doesn’t stop, or pull away, until you come back to yourself.

And only then does he pull away and slide back up your body to crash his lips against yours. “You did such a good job, cyare.” he breathes against your lips, “So good for me.”

You lean into him, a whine slipping from you at his praise.

“Do you want my cock, cyare?” Alpha murmurs as he slides his hands up your sides, to your arms, to pin your hands over your head, “Tell me.”

“Y-yes.” You whisper against his lips. “Want you. Need you.” You gasp out.

“You have me, cyare. I’m right here.” He nips your lower lip, “Tell me.”

You squirm under him. “Need your cock. Please! Please sir?”

He groans, “How can I say no when you ask so nicely,” Alpha murmurs before he kisses you deeply, and then he flips the pair of you so you’re straddling him, and he deftly pins your arms behind your back, “There.”

You blink at him, hazy and very confused.

Alpha chuckles, “We’ll go at your pace,” He says, “Plus, this way I get to watch your pretty tits bounce when you ride me.”

“But, I don’t know how-”

“Shh, I’m going to help you, cyare.” He releases your wrists, and is pleased when he notices that you left them behind your back, and he tugs the bottoms of his blacks down enough that his cock bounces free. He gives himself a few lazy strokes, his gaze lingering on your still cloth covered chest, and then dragging his gaze down to your glistening pussy. “Okay, come here, cyare.”

You slide up his body, and with his help, slowly you sink down on his cock. The stretch is a little painful, but Alpha’s strong arm around you keeps you from moving too quickly.

And soon he’s completely inside you, and you’re both very still. His jaw is clenched, and his grip around you is very tight, “Fuck cyare,” His eyes close, “You’re so fucking tight. Feels amazing.”

He takes a deep breath, to get control of himself, and he looks up at you, “You okay, cyare?”

You hesitate and then slowly nod, “I think so?”

Alpha chuckles, “Move a little, cyar’ika.” He suggests. And then he groans when you do as he asks. “Just like that, cyare. Feels so good-”

You’re a little clumsy, but with Alpha’s help, you manage to find a rhythm that suits you both. And then his hands are everywhere, gliding over your nipples, pinching and rolling them through the lace of your lingerie, sliding up your back to pull you down so he’s able to kiss you, dipping between your thighs to apply pressure to your clit-

And that’s what pushes you over the edge. You clench around him, and your hips stutter to a halt as your orgasm washes through you. Alpha manages to flip the pair of you while you’re still riding out your orgasm, and he fucks you, hard, though your orgasm, chasing his own high.

You cling to him as he presses tightly into you, quiet moans of pleasure mixing with his own deep groans, and then his hips stutter, and he pulls out to spill his release against your stomach. 

You blink up at him, and he stares down at you as you both recover from your orgasms. And then Alpha smirks, “I really like the lingerie, cyare.”

You giggle, “I can tell.”

“The next set we get you needs a slit here,” He brushes his thumb between your folds, making you shiver, “That way I can fuck you with you still wearing it.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” You reply.

And then he leans in and kisses you deeply, “Just so you know, I’m not even close to being done with you, cyar’ika.” Alpha promises, “You’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow, sarad.”

You flush, but you aren’t opposed to the plan. 

“My good girl,” he murmurs, “Come on, we’re moving to the bed.”

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Do you think Rhian and Rafal are identical or fraternal? I've been having this question forever. Some think they are fraternal ( because of the covers ) but they are not accurate, and some identical because of how they are described in the books.

Me personally I feel like they are identical, but that's just my opinion, others may feel differently.

I've seen some even do identical and fraternal fanart, which is amazing by the way.

But I want know your opinion and what/how you feel about the twin description.

I feel like we didn't really get their looks described properly, only hair color, eyes and that's about it.

Also how tall do you think they are?.

I already think they are a certain height, but others may disagree.

They are described as ' Tall ' but have no specific height.

Thank you for your time.

My stance is that I see them as fraternal in coloring but identical in facial structure, features, and overall physique and stature.

With the fanart, most of it that I've seen has been fraternal, especially with their complexions and hair. I suspect that a decent portion of the identical art might've existed before the publication of Rise, given that the ghost's human appearance (before he became a ghost swan) looked like Rafal's, so the prevailing assumption at the time could've been that the twins were identical, until the prequels' covers and descriptions overturned that.

And once, we only had the singular illustration of them together in book one, prior to the prequels, to go off of. Though, given the identity twist in Fall, I would say the representation of the twins in that sculpture in Evil's mural could've been unreliable. Who knows if "Rafal" (Rhian) "revised" history and modeled both sculptures after Rafal's face (albeit with his own blue eyes) instead of himself, so the two would match. Maybe, he liked symmetry in design. Besides, he probably wanted the image of his own likeness to fade from the Woods' collective consciousness.

Also, I observed something new! There are sea-green flames, which are quite similar imagery to Rhian's blue dragon flame.

I'm not really going into massive depth about eye color, but I do have some thoughts. Although Rafal's eyes were green in Fall, which I feel like must be the exception, not the rule as a descriptor for him, I usually picture him with light, sky or ice blue eyes, and there is a chance that his green eyes were just an error or a minor plot hole. (Additionally, there have been different variations of blue hues in the series by this point, like "ice," "sky," and the deeper "sapphire," so honestly, I'm willing to overlook the potential green error, and just attribute these changes in which particular blue his eyes are to the lighting of the environment, Rafal's mood, or even the mood of the narration itself and which pov the description is from.)

If both brothers had blue eyes, even distinct shades of blue for each, one deeper and warmer, originally, and the other colder and lighter, I wouldn't have minded, and the books could've retained an iota more consistency, even with the identity twist, given that both the living School Master and the ghost had blue eyes in the main series, which directly contradicted Fall.

I'm not sure if I have an exact height in mind for them. I could say 6' 1" though. With "Rafal" in the main series, I pictured him as at least a head or more taller than Sophie, who is short. I think Soman confirmed her height as 5" 3' given that he once said she was "Madonna short" on TikTok, so we could conclude approximately 5" 3' with a quick search. However, we don't know if this is with or without heels, so she could be taller with them on.

Also, Soman confirmed Tedros was 5’ 9.5" or 5’ 10", so I feel like Rhian and Rafal definitely have to be taller than that. Was there ever a moment in TLEA where Rafal was described as taller than Tedros?

How tall do you think they are? Does anyone else have a different view on all of this?

[flowerandblood]

Magdalene with the Smoking Flame

[modern! photographer • Aemond x female]

[warnings: oral sex, dirty talk, domination, sexual tension, fluff]

[description: Aemond is a photographer dealing with works referring to the painting of the old masters. His sister poses in class for a girl who catches his attention. He decides that she would be a perfect model for one of his photos. Lots of sexual tension and slowly built fascination.]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

This is Part 2 of story: Girl with a Pearl Earring

_____

After the exhibition she officially became Aemond's model. He did not explain to her why he made such a decision and why she had to pose for all the photos, but she didn't ask about it. Deep down, for some reason she was excited to be in front of his camera again.

Being a painter and portraying others gave her the feeling of being somewhere behind, in the position of an observer. She could transfer all her thoughts and feelings about the model with a brush to the canvas or board, show her expression and sensitivity to colors and light.

When she was a model, all the more so, she was in the spotlight and had to demonstrate new, previously unknown skills. She also did not hide that she was glad that he was the author of the photos on which she was. After his version of Girl with a Pearl Earring, she decided to trust him completely on this matter.

Aemond wrote to her a few days later and outlined what he had planned. Now he wanted to target the works of George de La Tour, and more specifically his series with the figure of Mary Magdalene.

He created several paintings with her, and Aemond wanted to replicate all of them because they had similar scenery and lighting. All of de La Tour's paintings were based on candlelight, soft and subtle. Aemond wanted to try to recreate a similar effect.

Mary Magdalene's outfit consisted only of a white V-neck blouse and a red skirt, so she sewed them easily for herself. Aemond told her that he would take a mirror from his house and get a skull, artificial of course, but one that would look like a real one.

They met during a break between their classes to work out the details. Aemond wanted to prepare her for the fact that the session would be long and exhausting. She, however, was full of enthusiasm and didn't care at all, much to his satisfaction. They stopped mid-exchange when one of his classmates tapped Aemond on the shoulder.

"Oh, finally I can meet the famous Girl with a Pearl Earring!" Cregan said, extending his hand to her. She smiled and shaked his hand. She recognized that boy and knew that he also did portrait photography. His works was usually black&white and very minimalist.

“Indeed, you have a very photogenic face. I don't think Aemond would mind if I borrowed you for one photo shoot, would he?" He asked with a smile, and she looked at Aemond uncertainly.

He stared at Cregan, his jaw clenched slightly, but he said nothing. Aemond and she didn't sign any contract so she could really do whatever she wanted. She decided she had enough work to do with her paintings. She didn't want to be further distracted.

"Sorry, I haven't finished my paintings yet." She said softly, looking at him apologetically.

"This would be a quick shoot, I promise it won't take you long." He said amused, and Aemond suddenly exploded, apparently losing his patience.

"She told you she had a lot of work to do. What else do you not understand?” He asked, looking at him annoyed. She pursed her lips as she felt the atmosphere change suddenly. Cregan backed away from his reaction.

"I understand. Anyway, have a nice day." He said and continued down the corridor. She looked at Aemond but he looked away, pressing his lips together. She thought he regretted his outburst.

After he presented her photo in an exhibition, there were a lot of rumors about how she got herself a place with the dean's son. The girls Aemond had been in the year with had the most gossip. Neither she nor he brought up the subject, but they knew that everyone around them thought they were sleeping together.

He cleared his throat loudly, apparently returning to his neutral, cool state, and looked at her. His gaze softened a bit.

"See you on Tuesday."

***

She came to the studio ahead of time knowing he'd be there. Aemond gave her a surprised look, he was setting up a still life for her to sit and pose with.

"I'm not done yet, you'll have to wait." He said quickly, putting the mirror in the right position, staring at the print on the table. She walked over to him with a smile.

"I came early to help you." She explained, taking the candlestick in her hands. Aemond accepted her company without a word, and the two of them reached for more items and set them down, stepping back once in a while to see what it looked like.

“The candle in the painting is thick but short. To keep the composition right I bought a similar one, but unfortunately we won't have much time to take a good photo before it burns out. I'm afraid an additional light source will be needed."

Once everything was ready she went to get changed. She put on her shirt and skirt, then wrap her belt around her. The shirt had a deep V-neck and puffed sleeves. Because of how the original looked, she decided not to wear a bra underneath. Fortunately, the shirt wasn't transparent and only the outline of her breasts was visible.

She left the room and saw that Aemond had turned off all the lights, leaving only a lit candle. When he saw her, he froze for a moment, looking at her intensely. Her long hair was completely loose.

"Come here. Sit down.” He spoke low and calm as if the atmosphere of the room, the darkness surrounding them and the candlelight gave him a sense of solemnity.

She scurried barefoot across the floor quickly, sitting down in a chair, placing the skull on her thighs. She placed her hands on it as she remembered it was in the painting, and turned her head slightly backwards.

Aemond looked at her and approached her slowly. She inhaled sharply as he lifted his hand and gently turned her cheek, tilting her face away.

"Yes. Stay just like that." He said and she heard the sound of the camera shutter.

"It looks great." He grunted contentedly. He walked over to her again and adjusted the fabric of her skirt to make it fit better. His nearness and his scent made her dizzy.

She flinched as she felt his fingers in her hair. He swung them slowly over her back, running his thumb over her skin, exposing her neck more. She felt her pulse quicken. He didn't take his hand away for a moment, and she couldn't see the expression on his face because of her position.

He finally pulled away and she heard the shutter click of the camera again. Aemond was pleased with the result and said they could move on to the second setup.

She stood up and looked at him uncertainly. Her heart beat uneasily as she saw how dark and gloomy his gaze was. He stared at her, standing in the shadows as if he was about to devour her.

She swallowed loudly and sat down facing the table this time, leaning forward. Aemond had to go to the other side to take a picture of her proper profile. The skull was placed on top of the books and was supposed to be reflected in the mirror. She rested one hand on her chin, the other on her skull, staring straight ahead.

"Lean more forward. Yes, exactly." He said.

She shivered as she heard him walking towards her. His hand grabbed her hand, the one that was on the skull. She opened her mouth slightly feeling his touch, felt the space between her thighs tighten, all wet. He moved her fingers slightly away from the object.

“In the painting, she barely touches that skull. She rests her fingertips on it." He said, trying to gently put her fingers in the right position. She felt her hand tremble. Aemond must have felt it, but he said nothing. He pulled away from her, studying her form from a distance.

"Good. Look more forward, not down. Yes, stay like that." He said and she heard the shutter sound again. Aemond must have changed the previous candle for a new one. He took a few more close-up shots and ordered them to go to the final setting.

She stood up again, feeling her legs tremble. She realized with embarrassment that she was aroused, her wetness literally dripping down her thighs.

She tried not to look at him as she shifted her position, sitting sideways to the table again. She rested her face on her elbow, looking to the side, her other hand resting on the skull in her lap.

Aemond took the mirror away and placed several thick books on the table instead. Her lips quivered as she felt him standing behind her, slide her shirt off her shoulders, letting it drop just a few more millimeters and her nipples would be visible. She felt herself hot and swallowed hard, feeling beads of sweat on her neck.

She looked pleadingly at him as she saw him kneel down in front of her and lift the fabric of her skirt, so that her bare knees were visible. She knew that was exactly what the figure in the painting looked like, but the way he touched her made her whole body tremble. She thought she had never felt anything like this before in her life.

Aemond didn't look at her. She thought he was going to get up and move away, but he didn't. She stifled a moan and swallowed hard as she felt his hand brush over her bare knee and calf.

He leaned down slowly and kissed gently the bare skin of her thigh. She wondered, staring at him with her mouth parted if this was really happening. Her hot core pulsed around nothing at the sight, and she felt her nipples harden.

She felt his hand slowly return from her calf up to her knee, moving to her thigh, rubbing her hot skin with his thumb. She watched in disbelief as his fingers lifted her skirt higher and pushed aside the delicate fabric of her underwear.

"Jesus." He whispered to himself, staring in wonder and delight at the space between her thighs, all hot and wet. His thumb ran over her entrance, dripping with her juices. She threw her head back and, unable to stop herself, moaned softly.

He leaned over her wordlessly, his lips brushing her entrance as if he were kissing her lips. She shivered with pleasure, moaned loudly, involuntarily raising her hand from skull towards his hair. She started to breathe louder when she heard him undo the belt of his pants.

Her hips began to move involuntarily towards his face as she felt the gentle caresses of his tongue. He teased her with it, not inserting it all the way, licking everything that came out of her. They both started panting, all she could hear the wet click of his tongue and the quick, mechanical movements of his hand somewhere below her.

She had never been so turned on before in her life. The silence that reigned around them, the darkness and the light of the candle made her feel that this was not really happening. She thought it was some blissful dream that she would soon wake up from.

She sobbed as she felt his tongue quicken, pressing against the top wall of her hot core, massaging it where she felt the most pleasure. She thought with horror that she was about to come on his face, and there was nothing she could do about it. Her thighs responded greedily to his caresses, wanting to feel him more and deeper.

Her breathing became ragged. She drew in a deep breath and froze, her mouth slightly parted. After a second, she threw her head to the side and moaned loudly, coming so hard she felt dizzy, squeezed her eyes shut, her body convulsed. She heard his muffled groan.

He shivered all over, panting heavily, his hand suddenly released, his tongue thoroughly licking everything that came out of her. They were both panting and purring softly, delighted with what they had experienced.

Aemond gently moved away from her and grabbed the fabric of her skirt, pulling it back over her thighs as before. He got up slowly, wiping his mouth, quickly zipping up his pants. She saw drops of cum on his hand out of the corner of her eye.

He wiped his hand on the fabric on the table and reached for the camera. He looked at her through the lens as if nothing had happened.

"Good. Now you look like Mary Magdalene who deserves penance." He purred contentedly. "Lay back down just like in the painting."

She felt her whole body still tremble from the unearthly orgasm she had experienced. She shifted in her chair, swallowing loudly, and rested her head on her elbow, hiding her face in shame in her trembling hand.

"Yes. Keep your eyes on the flame. Don't purse your lips so tight." He said calmly and she did as he asked, loosening her lips slightly. She heard the sounds of the camera shutter. Aemond took a series of photos of her. He lowered the camera, staring at her with a mixture of admiration, lust, and desire.

"Perfect."

_____

Thank you so much for such a warm welcome to the first part. Here's part two. If you want to be tagged, leave a comment below. ♥

@zenka69 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @tinykryptonitewerewolf @malfoytargaryen @toodlesxcuddles @fan-goddess @bellaisasleep

[chvoswxtch]

to the halloween queen, i hope this october is treating you well!! i was wondering if i could request a gut wrenching, angsty fic with billy based on paramore’s sanity?

if i call out your name, you don’t come/

no one home, but the void is loud/

echoes around my empty house/

sentences are slowing down

in all honesty, i don’t have many specifics in mind. i was thinking of an established relationship slowly but surely growing apart. to the point they eat dinner in silence, the distance between them whilst sleeping in the same bed grows more and more…in other words, i am asking you to break my heart!

i go by she/her pronouns and they can be used!

<3 thank you, take care, and ily <3

oh my darling sweet nonnie, you definitely came to the right place. I hope october has been kind to you, bc i'm about to break your heart as requested. i'll be here with tissues afterwards 🖤

warning: swearing, slight mention of alcohol, heavy angst word count: 1.4k

sanity.

no one home, but the void is loud / echoes around my empty house

The white noise of bustling traffic was muffled by the dull roar of an icy midnight breeze slowly fading in the background. Through the grand floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse, you could see brilliant lights twinkling in a kaleidoscope of colors, vehicles zipping by in a flash in various directions, and masses of people navigating the city by heart. Outside, New York City was clamoring proudly with life.

But in the emptiness of the penthouse, it was so silent and still that the sound of fresh snow hitting the glass was as loud as thunder cracking across the sky.

In a place that more than three million people called home, you had never felt more alone. Standing in front of the expansive windows with the chill radiating through the glass nipping at your nose and cheeks, you felt completely numb and simultaneously like an open wound at the same time. It didn’t always feel this cold.

Last year at this exact same time, this place still felt like home. You could still feel the heat from the flames dancing in the fireplace licking at your skin while the golden glow of the fire created a warm and comforting ambiance in the living room. You could still taste the richness of hot cocoa caressing your tongue, and still hear the sound of Billy’s heartbeat playing in your ear while your head rested on his chest as the two of you admired the tree you had put up together from the couch. Billy had insisted on going all out since he had never really celebrated the holidays before due to growing up in the system. 

In a moment of sincere vulnerability while you were teaching him your special recipe for chocolate chip cookies, Billy had revealed to you that you were the first person he’d ever had to make the holidays feel special. It had been such a big deal to him to make sure everything was perfect, and it made your heart swell like a balloon in your rib cage seeing the childlike happiness on his face as the two of you celebrated together.

That special time now felt like a lifetime ago.

Now, there was only the scent of stale ash in the fireplace, and the absence of Billy’s holiday spirit lingering along the mantle and in the corner of the living room.

You weren’t sure exactly when it happened, but somewhere along the line, something changed. Billy no longer stopped by your work because he was “in the neighborhood” and just wanted to see you. Conversations became shorter and shorter at dinner until it reached the point of the two of you eating in deafening silence, and then ultimately you found yourself eating alone. Billy no longer wrapped himself around you in bed like a security blanket, and instead you found an ocean between you that kept growing wider and wider until you were stranded in the middle of it alone struggling to keep your head above water. He began to travel more, spent longer hours at the office, and lately would go days without speaking to you at all.

There was no more playful banter and flirtatious teasing in crowded spaces. It had been five months since you and Billy had gone on an actual date, and he had barely touched you in three.  On the rare occasion that he made it home at a decent hour, he ignored your passionate advances and locked himself away in his home office. You and Billy used to not be able to keep your hands off one another, and now you couldn’t even get him to give you a simple peck on the cheek. You couldn’t even remember the last time that he had told you he loved you.

For the past few months, there was a heavy sense of grief weighing on your heart like liquid cement almost as if Billy had died. He would appear suddenly, and then vanish right before your eyes even quicker like an apparition. He barely acknowledged your presence when you called out to him, as if you were the ghost lingering around. The last time you had reached for his hand, it was cold and stiff like that of a corpse. You fought defiantly against the stage of acceptance and refused to admit to yourself that your relationship was decaying in the grave. Instead you remained stubbornly stuck in a purgatory of mourning for the Billy you had fallen in love with, feeling haunted by your own foolish hope and his lingering presence in your heart.

Denial plagued you for months as you frantically tried everything to resuscitate the pulse in your relationship. You changed your hair a few times and put more effort into your outfits and appearance, which consistently went unnoticed by Billy. You planned romantic dates and elaborate getaway trips that he instantly declined. The past three times you had attempted to surprise him at the office for lunch, you couldn’t even get past his receptionist. 

Most nights you spent alone, drowning in your own agony, screaming and sobbing at the stars for answers because Billy wasn’t there to provide them. In moments of over indulgence from the built in bar, you nearly gave into your desperation and participated in the reckless thoughts intrusively entering your head that you were absolutely sure would capture Billy’s attention. But then the epiphany that you felt like you had to put yourself in a dangerous situation just for him to notice you again would shatter your soul into a thousand jagged pieces.

Had you done something to make Billy become so distant? Was he going through something he felt he couldn’t talk to you about? Did he love you at all anymore? Was there someone else? 

That last question made you violently nauseous. The not knowing what was happening with Billy drove you absolutely fucking mad, and you tried every method you could think of to stop the hemorrhaging to salvage what the two of you had. 

But eventually, the weight of the blood staining your hands was impossible to ignore, and the tone of a flatline rang loudly in your ears. The heaviness you felt was a clear sign that there was no longer life left in what you and Billy had created together, and the warm thrum of a pulse would never be found again.

You didn’t bother to tell Billy that you were leaving. The eulogy had already been engraved on the headstone months ago, you just couldn’t bring yourself to read it. Taking one last glance around the penthouse that had been your shared home, all you could think about was the day you first moved in. Everything had looked so bright, felt so warm and inviting, and Billy had been ecstatic to share a home with you. He had told you that you were what made the place feel like home, and in a moment of candor entrusted you with the sentiment of how happy it made him to finally have someone to come home to.

But now as you stood in the middle of the living room in the dark, it just felt cold and empty. Billy had been gone for two weeks on a business trip and was supposed to return home tomorrow, but this time you wouldn’t be there waiting by the door to welcome him back. After finally finding the strength to face the heartbreaking truth of your reality, you had spent the past twenty-four hours removing every trace of your existence. There was only one last thing to erase.

The devastating loss had left your heart maimed, and the memories of Billy’s touch afflicted phantom bruises onto your skin. It was time to tend to your own wounds and mend the parts of you that had been broken by him. After one final look around, you placed the handcrafted engagement ring on the kitchen island like a rose on a coffin as a silent goodbye and quietly disappeared into the depths of midnight.

tags: @nolita-fairytale @thyme-in-a-bubble @mars-rants-a-lot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @topperthornton

[husbandomail-archive]

hello I have returned! thank you everybody for your patience while my family moved; we’re still not entirely settled in, but I’m slowly reaching the point where I can resume writing. so here’s what I’ve been working on!

Idia/reader

in which he can’t see the screen.

“—damn! Again?! Isn’t that the same place as last time, too?” You sighed from your position on Ignihyde’s floor, shoving your hand into a bag of chips as you glanced back over your shoulder at your gaming partner. “You okay back there, Idia? Do we need to stop and level grind?”

As he made eye contact with you, Idia’s face and the tips of his hair turned pink. He shifted on the couch, crossing his legs and lifting his computer into his lap. “There’s no time for that,” he mumbled, chewing on his bottom lip, “The event ends soon, and we still don’t have enough materials to craft another set of that armor—” His voice slowly trailed off as he busied himself with the on-screen menus.

You stretched a bit, twisting your body until it was easier to stare up at him from your little next of pillows on the floor. The two of you had been trying this raid even for hours with no luck. Now, if you had been playing this game by yourself, or even if you’d used the lobby to team up with randos, your lack of success would make perfect sense— but no, you were playing with Idia. That’s what made this string of failures so suspicious.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Idia?”

He huffed, and a strand of hair went flying away from his face. “I’m fine,” he said, although it didn’t sound very convincing. One of his hands came up to comb his flickering bangs from his eyes, but the blue embers were insistent on hanging directly in his line of sight.

No wonder you guys kept losing— he couldn’t see the screen.

Laying there propped up on your side, you watched Idia for a quiet moment, enjoying the soft sounds of his keyboard as he blatantly tried to avoid looking at you. His long blue hair cascading down his shoulders, flickering endlessly as his delicate hands continued to brush it aside, the flames melding at his touch—

Your own fingers twitched. What did his hair feel like?

Idia glanced up at you from underneath his bangs. His hair changed color again, more soft threads of pink appearing when he realized he still had your attention. His painted mouth pulled into a pout. “Don’t look at me like that! We only lost because of RNG— let’s try again.”

“Let’s take a break, actually,” you stretched again, finally pulling yourself up onto your knees, trying to rub the screen-strain from your eyes.

Idia winced at even the slightest rejection, but he nodded, setting his computer down on the couch cushions and vaguely turning in your direction. “—what are we doing now, then? A different game? A movie?”

“Don’t you think you need a haircut?”

Idia jolted backwards immediately, his spine pressed into the back of the couch, eyes going wide as his hair paled to almost the same shade as his skin. “St— hey, stay back! No scissors!”

A beat of silence, followed by a laugh that bubbled its way out of your throat. You almost doubled over at the expression on his face. “That’s not what I meant!” It took a moment for you to catch your breath, but as soon as you did, you waved off Idia’s concerns. “I’m just making conversation, Idia. You should try it sometime.”

Without waiting for a response, you untangled yourself from your nest of pillows sprawled across the floor, stepping over to where you’d dropped your bag hours ago. Idia’s eyes widened yet again as he watched you fumbling through your bag, clearly looking for something specific. “...Hey, you’re not gonna—”

“Calm down,” you said gently. Once your hands closed around what you were looking for, you pulled them from your bag slowly, as if trying not to startle a skittish pet. “I’m not gonna cut your hair.”

“But you do intend to do something.” His eyes narrowed at you. No point in dodging that accusation, because it was true; you held up the bundle of personal treasures from your bag, letting Idia examine them before you made any sudden moves.

Hair ties. Decorative barrettes. That small brush you always forgot you were carrying.

“Let me put your hair up, Idia.”

The dorm leader sat quietly for a moment, his sharp eyes flickering between your hands and your face; if you looked any closer, you’d be able to see his own hands trembling. What kind of dating sim scene is this turning into—?

“Okay.” He immediately pressed a hand to his mouth, as if to catch the word before it fell. You had clearly already heard him, though— your face lit up in a way that made his chest twist.

“Really?! You’ll let me?” Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to say yes.

Idia turned his face away from you as if to hide his blush, although that did nothing against the kaleidoscope of his hair colors. “—hurry up before I change my mind!”

You nodded happily, stepping around the couch to stand behind him. He’d agreed so much easier than you’d expected, so you’d better take the chance while you have it.

Sitting in front of you, Idia shifted nervously; for someone with anxiety, being able to feel but not see a person behind him sent adrenaline through his veins, even though he knew it was just you. He began to turn his head so he could stare back at you over his shoulder, but your warm hands landed gently on the side of his face, directing him to stare forward again. “Sit still,” you chided— and then finally, you began to run your fingers through the ethereal flames he called his hair.

The first thing you noticed was that it didn’t burn. In fact, the flames weren’t even warm. You hummed in vague surprise as you twisted a few strands around your fingers, admiring the texture, memorizing the color. When the sound left your throat, Idia shifted again.

“Wh— what’s that noise supposed to mean?” He tried to sound demanding, but his voice wavered and he winced; talk about undermining himself.

“Nothing bad,” you assured him, continuing to fiddle with the ends of blue strands. “I’m just surprised— it looks like fire, but being able to touch it is just so…”

Idia leaned further back against the couch and tilted his head to look up at you, bemusement painted across his face. The movement sent his long hair shimmering like a waterfall over the back of the sofa. “Of course it’s not as hot as regular flames,” he said, “do you have any idea how uncomfortable that would be?”

You laughed lightly at that and nudged his head forward again.

You took your time running fingers through his dancing flames— never knew if you’d get this chance again, after all. As your nails gently dragged along Idia’s scalp, he let out a soft sigh and leaned back into your touch, his shades of blue beginning to flicker lavender instead. Experimentally, you began to gather as much as you could hold in one hand, to see if a ponytail would work.

When your nails gently scraped against the nape of his neck, Idia shuddered. His eyes flew open— when had he closed them?— and he jolted forward, the movement dragging his hair out of your grasp. “Watch it,” he bit out, although there was no real force behind his voice.

“Sorry, sorry,” you hummed, although it was fairly obvious you weren’t sorry at all. As Idia grumbled and settled back against the couch, you decided to move on from just playing with his hair. He’d get restless if you didn’t actually get to work, after all. You picked up your small brush in one hand, regathering his hair in the other. “Are you tender-headed?”

“...I don’t know,” he admitted, “It’s not like I brush it often.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” you said lightly. Before he could bite back, you ran the brush through Idia’s hair, and any remaining snark died on his tongue. Instead, he gasped sharply, leaning back into the feeling.

Brushing his hair was an odd feeling for both of you. His flames were, of course, tangible enough to hold, but they weighed practically nothing in your hand, and there was no resistance as your dragged the bristles through his blue waves.

For his part, Idia felt like he was actually on fire this time. Since his hair was so fluid, he’d never felt the need to pay much attention to it; the feeling of a brush was already fairly foreign to him, but knowing you were the one brushing it for him sent a current of electricity up his spine and back again.

He squirmed in place, messing up your progress. You twisted a strand between your fingers again, tugging sharply so he felt the brief sting on his scalp, earning a hiss from his throat. “Sit still,” you ordered; Idia huffed, but obeyed.

As one of your hands pulled the brush through his long hair, your other hand came up to play with the shorter strands closer to his face. Some of them were tucked behind his ear, or gathered into place where the brush could drag them along; others, you detangled with your fingers, arranging them to frame his pretty face. Your fingertips gently ghosted along the edge of his jaw and Idia shivered again.

Folded in his lap, Idia’s hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting. He tapped his fingers against his knees, he pressed his fingertips together, he folded and unfolded the hem of his shirt— all the while, his hair changed color back and forth, threads of shy pink and purple following the trail of your hands like waves returning to shore.

“—is this comfortable?” You asked quietly, as to not shattered the gentle atmosphere that had settled over his dorm room, resting on your shoulders.

Idia was silent for a moment, long enough that you almost wondered if he’d fallen asleep. When he did finally speak up, his voice sounded a bit dazed. “It’s fine.”

It was more than fine— he leaned into your touch like a cat trying to convince you it had been ignored all day. When he thought about it— and thinking straight was damn hard, with your hands in his hair— Idia couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched like this. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been touched at all, actually.

The brush in your hands changed direction all at once. Instead of running downwards to detangle the bright embers, you twisted his hair and lifted it away from his neck, running the brush upwards along the underside, preparing to shape it into a proper ponytail. Idia couldn’t help himself— his eyes rolled, and a soft sound clawed its way out of his throat. You stopped immediately, and he could feel your presence getting heavier behind him as you leaned closer.

“Idia? Was that a—?”

“Shut up!” He bit out. He practically doubled over on the couch, propping his arms up on his knees so he could bury his face in his hands. His hair betrayed him yet again, every single lock of flame flaring the brightest pink you’d ever seen. You had to press a hand to your mouth in order to stifle a laugh.

Idia groaned into his hands. “I want to reload this scene and pick a different dialogue option.”

You bit your tongue in order to regain control of your voice. “It’s okay to enjoy this, y’know. Can I keep going?” You gently twisted another strand between your thumb and index finger, sending a wave of goosebumps across his pale skin. Idia let out a shaky breath— but in the end, he nodded, and you could feel your face light up again.

Gathering his hair in your hand once more, you brushed it into a loose ponytail at the crown of his head, gently tugging it into several different positions to decide which worked best. “Your hair is so pretty, Idia,” you hummed as you set the brush to the side. Before grabbing a hair tie, you took the chance to scratch your nails at the nape of his neck once more, messing with the tiny flickering baby embers. Idia moaned again, much less shy about the sound that time.

You combed all his hair into your hand once more, making sure you didn’t miss any of the longer strands, and then finally snatched up one of your hair ties to secure everything into place. Once that was done, your hands landed on his shoulders, making Idia jump; he tilted his head back again to stare up at you with wide eyes.

“Is that it?” he asked, a hint of confusion creeping into his voice. “That wasn’t nearly as HP-draining as I thought it would be/”

You snickered a bit and tugged on another long strand of his hair, just hard enough to earn yourself a cute little whine. “Hang on, I’ve gotta add a final touch.”

Before he could protest, you’d gathered your barrettes and hair clips and swept his bangs away from his forehead, pinning them in place with a string of colored butterflies. “There,” you said happily, “you should be able to see the screen now.”

Once you’d moved back, Idia scrambled to grab his laptop. It had fallen asleep, so the screen was dark, and he used that to examine his reflection. When he moved, his long hair swished; as he stared at his reflection, his hand came up to run his thumb across the butterfly clips.

Idia turned back to you with a huff and a pout. “Open your inventory again,” he demanded, “I want a different accessory.”

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

September 25th - Masquerade / Puppets

The flowers of the City of Flowers were in full bloom of the autumn season, the dahlias were beautiful in various colors spread across the garden beds of homes, and beautiful reddish to yellow sunflowers stock the fields wildly like a fresh oil painting.

Little chimes of bells echo the cobblestone paths of the beautiful town rich in history as a little girl runs across. Her hair was dark as a raven’s wing, her skin a snow white, her adorable bare feet decorated in a little link of bells mimicking a fairy’s whisper in every step she takes.

A shadow flew above her before two strong arms scooped her up, earning a squeal from her tiny body. Emerald gray eyes look up, the girl giggles a fanged grin, “Papa!”

Footsteps walk forward, causing the two to look up to witness a group of people walking towards them. Two redheads, two blonds, two hairs of flame, two hairs of green, two separate shades of light, and two hairs of dark, each of them a child of two in toe.

Dark lips stretch into a warm smile as the royal back bends straight, cradling his child in his arms still. “Welcome my dear friends.”

The warm taste of French Vanilla lotte dances across taste buds as chocolate and bread fills the sense of smell as sixteen males sit in a local cafe in the city eating a simple lunch as the autumn shines above.

A heavenly sigh is sounded as a man with short hair of gold leans back, “Comme c'est beau, to be blessed to see such beauty in a beautiful city, the red trees a perfect backdrop for my dear Roi Du Poison’s gorgeous complexion~” He said, looking lovingly at the man next to him who calmly sits his cup of coffee with little bashful reaction towards the sing-song tone of love beside him, his golden and lavender hair curled inward to a simple bun with a lone black velvet ribbon that works well with the dark turtle neck he wears.

A giggles leaves the Prince of Fae across the table, “You never change, don’t you Rook.”

Lots of things have changed since Night Raven Collage, lots of emotional changes to be more specific alongside the physicals.

Many shocking relationships began beside the obvious of Riddle’s and Ace’s, during that same time Azul Ashengrotto and Idia Shroud announced their own romance blossomed in time of Idia’s preparations of graduating. Thanks to their love, Azul’s physical appearance changed in a nice way, he looked more fed and had this happy glow about him, while Idia’s social skills have gotten so much better in both a friendly sense and business sense. The two even worked together after they both graduated their universities, with help from the Shroud family who were very happy to hear the word their eldest was in love with someone, they make about 12k Madols a year living in a lovely home by the water with their three children, twin daughters Vanessa and Melody and their son Thanatos or Than for short.

Another shock couple was actually one that to many besides the dorm leaders and those closest to them were aware until the announced wedding a full three years since graduation, Malleus Draconia, Prince of Briar Valley, most magical mage of the entire world of Twisted Wonderland, and Rollo Flamme, a once strong willed man who slowly let down his armor and hatred to all magic one faithful autumn day as today.

The pair seemed to have sensed that spark many saw the night of the beautiful masquerade event the school was invited to, but neither were ready to fully accept it. They messed with the idea a bit, yes, but it was until Malleus was getting ready to rule his kingdom did they finally accept the obvious: They were in love.

Outside of being a now crowned king, Malleus works alongside Rollo in a quaint bakery and bookshop in the countryside Briar Valley and the Shaftlands, sending nice memories and knowledge to those who leave their store. He’s a simple dragon after all, only wanting his research of gargoyles, his love, and his cottage in the forest to make him happy alongside his family including their son Philip and their daughter Esmerelda.

The least shocking of all relationships to come from the magical school was Vil Schoenheit, actor, model, icon of the ages, and Rook Hunt, proud lover of all things beauty in many ways. If you saw them in the walls and assumed they were completely platonic you were to be deemed a liar on the spot! They were constantly arm and arm, cheering meals, and even spot kissing hands or pressing their foreheads together. “But that’s just how Rook is—” People would argue then, but as soon as the posts on social media of Vil, now becoming a scriptwriter alongside his acting skills, and Rook, who has grown to be a man who travels around the world photographing and filming all the beauty not many can dare see did people suspect more to their story.

The only thing that grew as a shock was what happened after the wedding of Prince Leona Kingcholar of the Sunset Savannah and his loyal once-Vice Dormhead of Savannaclaw Ruggie Bucchi, an affair many had raised eyebrows already due to the social status clashes. . . When the blonds moved into the pleasant chateau with the recently married couple.

And there they remained living comfortably with two children to love and care for, little Princess Nahla, and brave adventurous boy Kovu who many are trying to figure out if the blond hair tied to princess’ dark hair is tied with Ruggie or one of the two or if Kovu’s dark hair was merely a chance of surprise.

Only the lab who helped them be born can now.

Now, the most shocking couples to come were the Leech twins. Yes, they are handsome, and yes they indeed come from well off families, but no one truly expected them to find anyone ever!

Well, that was until the final years of both their years did they announce the relationships of the crowned then-Prince of Briar Valley’s human family member and star of films and Fairest One of All from Royal Sword Academy.

Jade and Silver were a bit of a shock but not very surprising after graduation, the pair traveling to new adventures jotting down research and pressed plants and writing history that was long lost. Currently they live near the edge of the Queendom of Roses by the coast with their little one Bryony.

Floyd and Neige on the other hand, that was a shock the world was not ready for. After a scandalous picture of the two kissing in the street after their senior year, the world had many MANY questions. Where did they meet? What started the relationship? What drove you to him? Why him?? Etcetc.

But…in the end…they simply just… work… Them and their cute little girl.

Speaking of which—

“Serena, be careful with the doves sweet heart!”

The little girl in question looked towards her father with ebony hair and giggles before running to the kids again by the fountain.

Floyd snorts and pulls Neige back in a snuggle. “Oh relax, harp seal~” He cooed, nuzzling his sharper face, “Let her get her energy out before the wedding.”

Ace sighs, stirring his coffee with a chuckle, “I still can’t believe they’re so good together.”

Riddle quirks a brow, “Better than us?”

“Oh are you going to start an argument now?” Joked Azul, his chin resting on his folded and locked fingers with a smirk.

The adults chuckle and playfully bicker back and forth. Tales of memories are swapped.

For some it was the party that was held here in this fine city years ago while for some it was something connected to the said wedding they’re traveling for—

“But seriously, how were you so in the dark with you two?” Ace asked, his hands presenting Ortho, now much older, feeding a slice of a chocolate cake slice to a cat beastman with red wood tuff for hair.

Ah, yes, the most shocking couple. Actually, if you want to give credit, the very same couple who started two the same night. . .

8 years ago, right down to the day, a year has passed since the masquerade party of Nobel Bell Collage, a bit of a magical adventure came to present itself in front of Ace and a group of others either in need of fun or simply was dragging themselves along were whisked away by a very convincing wildly fox named Fellow Honest and his companion and cat brother Gidel with promises of everlasting fun and wonder in their carnival of nostalgia and magical dreams.

It wasn’t as whimsical as promised however, that’s how scams are at times. But, somehow, in the aftermath of it all the little robotic Shroud and the mute feline discovered they had more things in common than meets the eye.

Cue some hangouts, cuddles, some dates, and imminent approval of their older brothers until the two began a mostly secret relationship. With Ortho’s help, Gidel was able to be fed and learned to read and write much better. And with Gidels help, Ortho was able to rebel once and a while and act more like his age than before with things like ding-dong-ditching and spending a whole night watching the stars swinging on some swings in the closed parks in town.

And cue the first six months of them starting was the day a certain eel invited a certain card soldier to the Mostro Lounge for a discount, leading him in search of a plus one to join, getting turned down by Ortho since he had a mystery date that weekend, and soon leading him to asking out a certain red haired dorm leader.

And cue that date being one magical night that triggered the first romantic gesture of many between a certain merman and a certain shy gamer who was doing a helpful favor for a friend and crush and working together on making the redheads’ date more special...

"But, I guess I have to thank you, Gidel..." Mumbled Ace, his shy face a nice refreshing sight for the table since they've been used to his rebellious face for years now.

Gidel, now long since grown taller and stronger thanks to Ortho's support and the hard working job of puppet making he has now, smiles a sweet freckles smile. He brings his hands up, "[You are most welcome Ace,]" He signs, his smile never leaving his face, "[You two honestly are a great pair. And if it wasn't for you being you I wouldn't have never found my Wish Come True.]"

Ortho giggles, planting a gentle smooch against his fiancé's cheek.

OKAY, DAY THREE IS DONE!

I am currently editing this in 12:56 AM and am tired so if there's any misspellings I am sorry!!

I didn't have time to draw ALL their kids but here's Serena!

The first half was originally for the Free Day LAST YEAR so I decided for this prompt to do this as a call back among other stuff.

So the canon couples in this AU are:

Riddle and Ace

Deuce and Epel

Jack and Sebek

Ortho and Gidel

Kalim and Jamil

Malleus and Rollo

Vil and Rook with Leona and Ruggie (Yes that means they're poly I love Leovil but also adore Rookvil so MLEH-)

Trey and Cater

Azul and Idia

Jade and Silver

Floyd and Neige

Crowley, Divus, and Sam

And last minute, Fellow and Vargas. (I just think they could be a funny cute couple)

The reason only some would've been drawn is cause Esmerelda wouldn't go to NRC since she attends a school in the City of Flowers, same goes for Melody and Vanessa, and I didn't have time to draw everyone else sorry!

I do have fic PDFs ready to share/in middle of editing to share if you're curious, it's mostly stories/drabbles of the other couples, some NSFW just warning ya. Just shoot me a DM and I'll share a quickly as I can after I crash upon posting this to be Qued

EDITING RAE HERE: FORGOT THE TAG! @ridoaceweek

[mychlapci]

YOU GET IT I mostly don't have very strong opinions on canon Shattered Glass but there are certain very specific Concepts that I'm kinda miffed aren't used anywhere in canon or fanon as far as I can find. Very fun premise to imagine aus for tho

My personal cross to bear is that sg!Hot Rod/Rodimus should be BLUE. If you have a fire character and then you need to show that a different fire character is evil then you give them BLUE FIRE... unless the SG universe completely eviscerated his ego he would NOT choose a generic ass black and purple color scheme!!!!!

They got so close when Lost Light Roddy was briefly blue and purple... they flew so high only to crash and NOT BURN because black and purple isnt the color of fire and one of his most notable character gimmicks is that hw LIGHTS HIMSELF ON FIRE!!! However I do think SG comic Roddys stupid mustache is funny as hell. That gets a pass

If this comes off as very impassioned and shouty that's because it's like ass o clock in the morning and I still haven't slept lmao. I feel very strongly abt blue evil rodimus thank you for listening to my TED talk

-v3nth

it's ok i get you. the SG autobot designs really utilize some weird ass paint-jobs that i am certainly not a fan of. maybe this isn't a popular opinion, but... I actually feel like the changes are Too drastic. I always liked the thought of Shattered Glass being just... These are the same characters, but circumstances and only very mild tweaks to their personality have led them down a different path. I know that is not the case for the ACTUAL shattered glass universe, but I find that so much more compelling....

The canon blue and purple look for Rodimus or a simple blue and black sounds dope especially if you give him blue flames, but if i'm honest, i would be fine with Rodimus having tiny touches of red/orange while mostly black, to let you know that this ain't no regular Rodimus you're fucking with, while still keeping his trademark colour. He's already got the moustache, he doesn't need many more marks to distinguish him from normal Rodimus. Maybe that's boring, i dont know.

Also, i fucking hate Ratchet's purple, green and pure white combo if i'm to be honest. on the floor crying... look what they did to my wife...

[12pt-times-new-roman]

c3e81

As a reminder, because I sort of missed it in my last post: Fearne absorbing and re-activating the shard also awakened Ashton's shard, and they were both transformed.

"What if every so often an ancient stone titan surfaces on Ashton's face and he goes, 'oh, the ancient times!'" boy that is RICH coming from Laudna--

On the bright side, now that the shard has been absorbed, Delilah's want for it has subsided.

Chetney talks about his family. He doesn't blame them for leaving, not at all — they were fleeing a red dragon — but he's considering making a deal with Nana Morri for his youth.

Outside, Ashton and Fearne are figuring out their new powers. While in their transformed state, Ashton can glide through unworked/loose earth or stone freely, and it sounds like their speed is increased. They can use this to run up sheer cliff-faces, and by submerging themself only halfway in the stone they can carry people up with them like an elevator. Their pain is gone in this state, and when it returns, it feels welcome.

For Fearne, while in her transformed state she's immune to fire damage, a creature that hits her takes 1d8 fire damage, and her fire spells are more powerful now. She also floats about a foot off the ground, so her movement ignores difficult terrain, and when she touches the ground she leaves little black scorch marks. Even in her un-transformed state, she has a slight smoke drifting from her hair, and a little flame in her pupils.

Both Ashton and Fearne have abilities that they can unleash that will exhaust them significantly. It's unclear how long their transformed states last for and how many times they can use them per day.

Meanwhile, Chetney goes to Nana Morri to ask about a "wish."

Monsters, frost worms, opening bottles, wind, fire — whatever. I will always be impressed by the quality and variety of Matt's hinge creak sound effects.

Morri reveals that she doesn't grant wishes, she makes deals — there has to be collateral, and if people don't hold up their end of the deal, they become like the topiaries in the garden.

Chetney very, very carefully proposes a deal: he gets imbued with some of Morri's power, in exchange for the ability for her to exert more of her power over the mortal realm. (Chetney's shadow touched feat suddenly makes a lot of sense — a suspicious amount of sense, actually.) Morri changes the scenery to a dark, empty space with a single table.

"What is it that you want specifically? Tell me your dreams." "Well, I would love to never die, but that seems a little much. So — I was wondering... do people ask to return to their youth?" Both are things she's granted before, but she cuts to the root: Chetney came in here with a singular desire, greater than either of those requests. "I want to be the most famous toymaker the world has ever known." "Now that just requires a little bend of fate, doesn't it?" Morri pulls a golden thread from Chetney's chest, it stretches from dark to dark, and as she pulls on it a cold sensation courses through Chetney. "And what will you give me?" "What would you want?" "Bring me a piece of what you hunt. Bring me a piece of the God-Eater." "Let me do some simple arithmetic here — it's a deal." As it is stricken, she runs her hand over the lantern, alights her palm with white fire and clasps Chetney's hand with it — the cold touches his palm and that golden thread seems to twist and tangle a bit, then she withdraws. "Very well. Make me proud, and you'll be notorious."

(god this is going to backfire so badly — like, if Predathos is anything like the Lovecraftian horrors it's very clearly modeled after, a piece is all it needs. am I the only one thinking of a color out of space here?)

They start their long rest and have the campaign's first heroes' feast! FCG feeds the Bells Hells plus Allura, Pate, and Mister. Their HP max goes up by 13, they are immune to being poisoned and frightened, and they make all wisdom saves with advantage for the next 24 hours.

For the first time in many, many days, they set up their dream ritual. FCG brings everyone except Chetney and Fearne into Imogen's dream.

Imogen's intent with this dream is to enter the beam and travel to Ruidus, to see what happens when she does. She glides past clouds beneath the starry sky and eventually finds herself in a corkscrew, drifting — all five of them are already gliding along the Bloody Bridge, hurtling upward toward the Moon of Ill Omen. Sparks pulse through it and almost catches them up in it — they're shunted, dragged through, like a rollercoaster. Before long, they untether from the beam and start free-falling toward the dusty surface of Ruidus. There are mountain ranges, chasms, and slivers of silver carving through the landscape — before they arrive at the core of the Ruidian storms. In this lost space, there is no sense of up or down, just the storm, the wind — they're lost.

Imogen opens her mind, and for a brief moment she feels like she's tapping into a greater consciousness, minds like background radiation that flicker beyond reach; the storm clears like she's in the eye and she sees Exandria above. The ground itself is vibrating like there's a stampede, it's warm, the stones seem to shift. And she lets go.

The only thing that's kept her dangling above an abyss, Imogen allows it to snap. She tumbles into the ground and the black warmth envelops you; to the rest of them, the dark is rough, jagged, scary. They see and feel nothing except for dread, and an alien presence that washes over and through them — but Imogen feels comfort, sensations of running into Liliana's arms, Laudna's arms, memories of hugging her horses, a sense of belonging. They pass through rock, flashes of color — cavern networks that snake like a labyrinth beneath the crust of the moon. Glimpses of teal crystal and subterranean rivers, water, oceans — alien, red life that swim through it whose green eyes track them. But darkness, still. A distant voice calls — "wait, Imogen, no—" and it's gone.

Their descent stops. The rest of them drift into suffocating darkness, Imogen is gone — the shared dream spell ends.

Imogen senses a presence unlike anything she's ever experienced. It's so immense that her entire being vibrates with power, she worries as it suffuses her that she might be pulled apart — that white flash she saw, these moments where the world rent itself around her, that power pulls to rend her but she belongs here. She is home. This is the womb, and she wishes nothing more than to return to this place with her entire core — but she wakes, then. Moments later.

This is an excellent setup for this, especially because it's giving Laudna and Imogen conflicting information and motives. Laudna, FCG, Orym, and Ashton all know that this darkness is rough and lifeless and it will shred them, suffocate them — but Imogen is being supernaturally coerced into selfishness. This feels like a big red flashing sign that says "some powers are not worth embracing, sometimes giving in to power will change you irreparably and you will not like what you see in the mirror anymore" and yet they're still pushing her to embrace it against her better judgment.

I am once again begging someone to acknowledge that FCG does not, in fact, need to sleep and can keep constant watch with no detriment to themself

Their long rest passes without issue, but in the middle of the night, when he's sure no-one is watching, Orym knocks on Nana Morri's door.

"The way I understand it, from what Fearne tells me, you can help people. You make deals. Well, um... my friends are all pretty amazing, the things they can do, I can't even fit it all in my head, and I'm really good with a sword but I'm a little nervous I'm not ready for what we're about to do tomorrow. [None of you are ready.] The point is, I feel the least ready in our group, and I wanna see this through, I wanna get it done, and I wanna get them back. I wanna get Fearne back, and all of them. So... if you can somehow make me better at protecting them, or stronger, more capable at what I do, I might agree to a lot."

Morri's eyes look past Orym, beyond, and when Orym looks back he's in the same dark space, with the same white lantern on the same table. "Your passion is to protect your friends, yes?" "My friends, your granddaughter — I don't know if there's a friends and family discount, but...?" "And what do you have to offer, little Ashari?" "Well, if I see them all through and we get it done, I'll serve you." "You smell of the touch of divinity. That makes you enticing. Well, now that Fearne's all grown up and might be finding her own way, it does get a bit lonely here in the manor. Maybe it'd be nice to have a caretaker." "These have to be worded just right, Imogen said — that's if we see it through. Every one of Bells Hells makes it back and we see it through. That's an easy trade. Back alive, happy, safe, and healthy." "Well, you have to leave happy to return happy, and health is in varying states at least. Return at least as you are." "Return alive." "Very well."

Morri grants Orym the ability to call upon her when he's in need (and probably some other abilities, too) in exchange for his service to her, provided that every one of the Bells Hells returns from Ruidus alive.

They get a long rest, but Imogen falls asleep missing that sensation she experienced at the core of the moon.

I have 3 primary thoughts about Orym's deal. First is that there is a Laudna-sized hole in Orym's insistence that everyone returns alive — in fact, he specifies that against Morri's stipulation of "returns as they are," so it sounds like Orym was working in a loophole. Second, this has the potential to be a big act 3 setup centering around breaking or finding a loophole int hat deal. And third, FEY PALADIN ORYM !!!! (he doesn't have the stats to multiclass into warlock but ancients or devotion paladin?? yeah.)

In the morning, they have a meal, then head back to Exandria. It's hardly been an hour since they left. They arrive in the familiar Hellcatch Valley, where there is a strong reddish hue to the entirety of the landscape. Ruidus hangs above them, larger than they've ever seen, silent and consuming the air above them. They're miles away from the Tishtan excavation site, and as they walk towards the west encampment (where Allura's allies are), then can see numerous legions, signs of battle, skyship wreckage — there has been warfare here, skirmishes, sides testing boundaries but nothing all-in. There's an air of held breath.

As they enter, Allura is met by three authority figures: Myth-Taker Qi Mandozi, an older orcish man, of Ashanedoor; Guardian Tofur Bratoris, a silver Dragonborn woman in full plate armor, wearing the symbol of the Council of Tal'dorei; and Dawnmarshal Earthbreaker Groon, the most muscular grandpa they've ever seen, leader of Kord's temple in Vasselheim.

All of them carry a presence, but Groon has a force that carries a massive weight; he is an individual who walks with the strength of the gods. "Underestimation is a powerful thing."

Into the war-tent!

Ohohoho, Earthbreaker Groon has some kind of Ruidus-born radar — Fearne catches him staring at her and Imogen like a parent looks at a child who's done something wrong.

Also inside the war-tent are Percy and Keyleth! They explain that the reason the Bells Hells are so important in this endeavor is because they are not being watched, they are not being paid attention to — "because so few, for now, know of you."

The Ruby Vanguard is trying to divide the world. Doomsday cults are rising in response to recent events, and the Vanguard is taking advantage of them to raise support for their cause; in doing so, they are waging ideological war on the home-front in addition to waging a militaristic war around the Malleus Key.

Percy unveils one of their distraction attempts: "butcher wagons," cloaked with illusions to look like a massive assault but instead stocked with buckets of blood; the Vanguard's forces will be drawn away and the wagons will be detonated, creating the illusion of an actual battle to keep them occupied for up to 30 minutes. That's how long the Bells Hells will have to get to the key. Luckily for them, the Vanguard's most intelligent members are already on the moon.

The Bells Hells will enter from the opposite side and slip in unnoticed during the battle. Because of their sabotage of the key earlier, the dispelling field is not present, but there are a significant number of Reilorans on the ground who can sense their minds — the scrolls will help with that.

"If you are discovered, ensure there are no witnesses. Whatever that means to you — whether silencing them or taking them with you — this is war. This is about all of us. All of us." Groon speaks with the voice of Kord on that last line.

Allura advocates for redemption and rehabilitation of the members of the Vanguard, if possible, when Laudna questions what the threshold is. But again — this is war. Keyleth, without eye contact, pipes in. "Save who you can, but do what is right."

Their mission while on Ruidus is to learn what they can. Who the Reilora are and what they want, whether they have a leader who can be parlayed with, what Ludinus' intentions are and how long he needs to achieve them — anything they can get, until they feel it is too dangerous to continue.

Fearne approaches Groon and asks about the look he gave them. "These eyes do not look anywhere; I sensed you. You are Ruidus-born, both of you." The entire tent knows, now. Keyleth advocates for them in good faith, not knowing what Imogen just did the night before.

They had tried to work with Ruidus-born before, and at a certain point, they just forgot what they were doing and joined their new friends. "Well, that's not gonna happen with us." FCG, you fucking wish, buddy—

Allura advocates for them too, and Groon looks back at them. "I trust they are capable, for they know that if they turn, the storm will find them. But you are of the storm, are you not?" "I am the storm, baby." "It seems your friends have more faith in you than you have in yourself. Be prepared to rely on them, when the time comes."

"You are the tip of the spear, and we are everything to follow. We just need you to guide us." Keyleth turns to Percy. "Why does it always take a bunch of assholes to get anything done?" (Ashton, reading Percy like a book: "He likes us!")

And here we go with Laudna enabling Imogen in literally anything even when it means giving up everything. "What if it is your calling? I don't want to stand between you and what you really want—" I am going to s c r e a m

But Laudna goes and asks Keyleth about what was distracting her before: it's Vax, trapped in that orb. "We need to set him free." She also confirms that the bridge is the only connection Exandria has to Ruidus; the moon is completely shielded against divination, teleportation, and everything else. The bridge needs to stay, Vax needs to keep screaming, until their business is done.

Before they leave, FCG casts telepathic bond — y'know, that one spell that allowed the Ring of Brass to hear each others' last thoughts as the ground came up to meet them and that eventually enabled the escape of a flighted scion who carried their memories into the after-times?

Earthbreaker Groon puts a hand on Imogen's shoulder, and she sees a flash of Kord in a roiling storm, and she hears his voice, growling. "You have my eye. There is greatness in you. Do not let us down." "I won't."

something something about how Ruidus being tethered to Exandria may have opened it up to the influence of Exandria's pantheon and the one who would have the greatest influence over the surface and of Imogen's dreams would, of course, be the Storm Lord

But as the preparations end, the two fronts roll out.

Allura, Qi, and Percy accompany the wagons, while Keyleth brings the Bells Hells in close. She casts gaseous form on them all, and they begin their trek toward the Malleus Key.

From above, they can see the illusions overtake the butcher wagons: a charging wave of gargantuan armored beasts, thirty feet high and four arms each, like massive gorillas; rhinos, armored; an entire frontal assault, flanked by massive elementals with flaming rock-wings, the married imaginations of two high arcanists working in tandem.

Their bodies reform at the edge of the crater and Keyleth turns to them. "You have a few minutes to gather your thoughts; then, be on your way." The clouds above her grow thick and dark, flashes of lightning break, and the entire vicinity is as if a thunderous hurricane has touched down in the center of Marquet. Lightning strikes clear a path for them as they don Ruby Vanguard robes, but they can already see the entire perimeter guard doubling as the attention is drawn to the surface, then to the wagons.

Gaseous form lasts for 8 hours, so it could be of use to them down the road — not just now, though, because of how long it takes to transform into and out of the form.

They begin to approach, and horns sound from inside the site — the first group stealth roll of the encounter rounds to about 28-30, so I think they're in the clear for now as dozens of crawlers and Reiloran warriors collide with the illusion. Spells are being flung from inside the illusion, Percy's contraptions fire cannons and explode payloads, the illusion shapes and reacts — it's a magnificent display of arcane prowess as they crest the edge of the Tishtan site.

[broodwolf221]

Solas' jawbone

I don't (yet) have a single, solid theory about Solas’ necklace, but I do have many thoughts about it. First, let's consider its composition: it certainly represents bone, but is it really bone? In other words, is it a real jawbone or a carving of one?

If a real jawbone, why is it a solid, dark, near-black color? This may have come about as a result of fossilization, or of being subjected to intense flame. Alternatively it could be painted, stained, or otherwise colored, either intentionally or as the result of something happening to it. 

If it is real bone… who is it from? What particular creature? And is it a wolf jawbone or something else, something more like a halla? Taken largely from this post, in which people in the tags have stated that it has been confirmed to be a wolf's jawbone, but I still wonder about it, particularly because Dragon Age as a series has made canon claims that they have later disproven.

Enough questions: time for some theories. 

It is a wolf jawbone, a real one. It came from a wolf companion of Solas’ - possibly a pet of sorts, but I think it's more likely that it would be a companion who would fight alongside him in the way of the Emerald Knights, or the primary form of a spirit he had befriended.

It could have been a gift, whether real or sculpted, either mocking or sincere. A play on the “Dread Wolf,” a wolf's jaw. Because he was Mythal's “hound,” or to honor him as a liberator of slaves? It depends who gave it to him, and under what context. If mocking, then it is something he has changed the context of, decided to own somehow; if sincere, then it is more likely to be an indulgent nostalgia, a memory of a time or person long past.

If a gift - who is it from? Many options. Mythal; Andruil; Ghilan’nain; one of the slaves he liberated. Possibly figures from the books or comics, but I haven’t read them/don’t really want (more) spoilers. Of those listed…

Mythal might have gifted it to him as a way of acknowledging his strength, his determination, his loyalty (to her)... this depends on what associations the ancient Elvhen and more specifically the Evanuris had with wolves, honestly.

From Andruil, it might have been a mocking gift, a statement that he “belonged” to Mythal, her loyal hound kinda thing.

Ghilan’nain is complicated. Depending on their dynamic, it could have been a sentimental gift, one that demonstrated an affectionate relationship, or it could have been an acknowledgement of his animal aspect, just as she had her own (the halla)

From a liberated slave, it could have been an expression of gratitude that leaned into the “Dread Wolf” persona

It is unclear when exactly Solas became Fen’Harel, became the Dread Wolf, but the timing would impact the likelihood of receiving it from the Evanuris. If he was only known as Solas while working with them (in whatever capacity he did work with/for them), then it would be unlikely that he would receive it from them, unless perhaps one among their number knew what he was doing. Mythal, perhaps? Dirthamen or Falon’din? The latter two because of their mosaics being in Fen’Harel’s Sanctuary, along with Mythal’s. Perhaps they were working together?

If it was not a gift - whether mocking or genuine - then it was something he chose for himself. As stated earlier, it might have been a memento from an actual wolf or a spirit-as-a-wolf that he fought alongside or befriended. Alternatively, as with the wolf-skin cloak, it might be nothing more than a way of demonstrating who he is, or who he chose to become. A form of representative armor, something he could put on and know himself by.

Another, very different option is: the jawbone itself is important to his plans. A foci for an Eluvvian, perhaps, or some kind of magical key otherwise. It might be a tether to some part of him, or to some deep part of the Fade, or still possess traces of the ancient magic. It might somehow exist as a plot item, something necessary to his cause.

[skitskatdacat63]

The thing about mentioning that you are disappointed because wanderer got changed to blue and anemo is so incredibly real and understandable. I literally had the same experience, so down bad and all and I was eager to get wanderer but now that I have him it just doesn't hit that hard idk. They should have kept the black and red it suited him so much. I can understand that a part of his lore and character is to heal and move on and change but why do all anemo characters have to be so blueish and stuff? Why couldn't the purple, red, black etc. stay? He looked so good with it and he still does but why can't Hoyoverse step out of that zone for once and color things different. Why can't there be a character who is anemo but can still dress more dark YK? 😭 Or even make the elements different. Like red electro or blue flames. Where is the creativity c'mon now :(

Exactlyyyyyyyyy!!! Like why hype up a character for so long, showing little glimpses, getting people excited, only to change his design :( It makes me annoyed to think about because there was soooo much speculation back in the day abt what element he'd be and so much "omg his design is so sick!! I want him so bad" only for him to be...blue. But yeah I totally agree, I usually don't mind their color coding but it sucks in this case specifically bcs his original colors were so beautiful and unique. Though speaking with color, ah at least we have Miko in red/white/pink, I'm very pleased with that! I think if they're gonna pick an element for him that's different than everyone guessed, idk why they have to make it so obvious. Like is it not more interesting for him to be so unassuming? Also I love his old name and titles sob sob, I can't get into "Wanderer" or "Hat Guy" at all.

I guess for me specifically, Unreconciled Stars holds such a special place in my heart as the first ever event. Tthe amount of mystery and hype around Scaramouche was so fascinating to me, cause he was the first of his kind, a character being teased who we wouldn't see again nor get for literal years. I remember rewatching this scene over and over again, trying to get the most I could out of a limited character y'know, it felt very special. He felt so intimindating and cool, the first Harbinger we got to see outside of the only two we knew. And back then, I was like WHEN HE COMES OUT, I'M WHALING!!!! But I wasn't really playing it around the time he appeared in Sumeru, so I was so aggrieved seeing he was finally released, but completely different! I missed the train y'know lmao, I just don't care for his current state at all, bcs as I said, I can't help but be stuck in my 2020 perception of him. It's just very nostalgic for me. Which is why I still call him Scaramouche lol. I know a lot of people like his chara development a lot and think it's interesting, but yeah, I wasn't around for it when it was the big thing so I can't get into it, because for me, it feels like getting swindled. I really love the Fatui and their designs, like one of my fav aspects of the game, so for him to not be that anymore makes me disinterested.

Also here is the only screenshot I have of him from back then LOL, if it was now, I would've taken a million