#our starling darling

[kai-atlantis]

Artemis on May 4th ✨️

& Artemis today, May 18th 🥹

[crypt-keepers-den]

I need more of Astarion and his little spawns- You don't understand how much I fucking loved that fic, PLEASE WE NEED MORE DADDY STARION 😭😭😭

I DIED BUT NOW IM BACK ENJOY!

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬 (𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐧)

Astarion never claimed he'd be a good father, but as soon as your little ones arrived into the world he sure was the proudest. When Lyra, your oldest had been born he fainted (can vampires faint idk), and when you announced your pregnancy with your youngest, Caspian, he was elated and told anyone who'd listen that his darling was blessing him with a second child.

when your oldest was born he was too frightened to hold her, in fear that he'd hurt her, but after a long talk from you (and a stern talking from halsin who'd offered to help you deliver naturally) he did hold her, frozen in place however as he did so. "she's perfect my darling" soft silvery tears cascading down his pale cheeks as the new-born yawns, when your youngest was born, he was prepared this time, holding your hand with confidence as you brought a new life into the world, bringing your 1yr old daughter into the bedroom to meet her baby brother, the elf had a grin etched on his face.

becoming a parent is one thing, but a parent to a dhampir baby is another, when lyra started teething you found out the harsh way. One evening you had lifted the infant to breastfeed her, settling back down on the couch with the infant nestled to your chest as she contently latched, your adoring husband sitting next to you a book in hand, his free hand stroking the top of his daughter's head. "star, read that page again i was too focused on lyra" he nods starting again until he heard a sudden yelp from you, "my love whatever's wrong?" he watches you exam the giggling baby's mouth "holy Avernus, star she's got fangs!" his eyes widened at your discovering as he leans over to see what your talking about, your holding the drooling baby's mouth open to allow him to see the two little white points that had pierced through lyra's gum. His eyes widen now understanding what had happened causing him to laugh, earning him a rough slap to the shoulder and a stern glare. safe to say you switched from breastfeeding to bottle and continued to do so with your second born (not that it helped but it saved your poor breasts from being gummed on by your children atleast).

Astarion prided himself in his inability to say 'no' to his children, "papa can i has?" caspian stares up at his father with the same puppy dog eyes you use on him, "caspian no treats before dinner!" you'd call out, the little boy would then pout before looking back up at his daddy, "papa a'peas", oh dear your son has him in the palm of his chubby little hands, astarion cant remember his childhood anymore, nothing but faint smells of what he assumes is his mother's perfume, but he does remember having nothing when he was under cazadors control. And he had made a promise at each child's birth, they'd never suffer like he had and they'd want for nothing. in this scenario its astarion sneaking your son a cookie before dinner, the pair hiding under the kitchen table laughing "our little secret little starling" , "you two know i can see you right?" "quick run!". with choas ensueing as you chastise the pair for ruining their appetite for dinner.

"lyra please stopping scaring your brother with your bat form!", the first time your daughter had found out she could shift scared you shitless, toddler lyra suddenly poofing into a bat mid hiccup causing you and astarion to jump out of your skin, not knowing how to get lyra to turn back until she hiccups again poofing back and landing in a panicked astarion's arms while giggling at her parents panicked faces. Since then astarion had taught her how to use it properly, however she had a terrible habit of scaring her little brother with it, startling the tot causing him to wail and run to the nearest parent crying "a bwat!, a mama! a papa! noo!" earning lyra a scolding, you and astarion made her promise to not use her abilities in the cottage and not infront of her brother, not until he was a little older anyway.

(hey! im back with some dadstarion stuff! how are we all liking this? i could go on forever about dadstarion scenarios, what would you like to see?)

[kararisa]

darling, starling

— 16. wine-stained lips — ✦ (wc: 0.9k)

Dandelion wine is a delicacy in the heart of Mondstadt, renowned as not only the best-seller of the region’s finest Dawn Winery but also as Venti’s favorite wine. The golden-colored drink has a flavor similar to mead, adorned with a subtle undertone of honeyed sweetness. While you’ve had the pleasure of sharing a glass or two with friends, you’ve never downed a full bottle.

Though that notion certainly changed today.

It’s a scene you're familiar with: dimmed lights, faint music, you and Scaramouche on the couch, sipping on glass after glass of wine. You were talking to him about... something. Was it the wine or the concert? It was something stupid, you know that much, because Scaramouche simply sneered at your comment and drank more of his wine.

The first night Scaramouche graced Inazuma with his presence after years away was spent here in this very living room. You and your friends had downed glass after glass, catching up after an eventful dinner.

Now, nine months have passed since he came back. It’s just you and him here. All alone.

Not that it’s a bad thing, at least in your book. The conversation isn’t boring, being able to flow much more smoothly with the help of the wine. And the skinship isn’t half-bad either. His hand has been resting on your knee for a bit, and your side has been pressed close to his for however long the two of you have been seated on this sofa.

It’s just the two of you here. There isn’t a need to keep up appearances.

"So, Scaramouche," you make your hand into a fist like you're holding a microphone. "How does it feel to be dating the Zenith?" 

"No comment."

You pout, "The crowd's not gonna like that; you're not giving them anything to latch on to." 

"Then I say that it's none of their business."

After a moment, you shrug, "Better than nothing I guess."

The two of you were bound to be hounded by reporters eventually, so you've taken to shooting him question after question in the guise of a journalist looking for some juicy gossip. 

His answers could use some work, you could say that much. 

"Our sources say you were at Windborne's concert tonight. What can you say about their music?" you hold out your invisible mic.

"It was alright."

You're getting annoyed at his clipped responses. "Don't lie, you enjoyed their concert," you swirl your glass before taking a sip. "I saw you smiling when I was on stage." 

"Again, I was only there because of you," he retorts. "You perform really well when you're in front of a crowd. Like you belong there." 

You likely would have blushed even more if the wine hadn't run its course, "Stop trying to butter me up. You're already dating me."

“We’re not even dating. And I’m only telling the truth — you were born for the stage,” he murmurs the next part so softly that you almost miss it. ”I like seeing you perform.”

You choose not to acknowledge the fact that you heard that last sentence, opting instead to drain the remnants of your glass. Its nectarine sweetness gives you comfort, a fleeting refuge from the tension in the air. With your glass now empty, you slowly swiveled to face Scaramouche, your heart racing, and your senses on high alert.

He was already looking right at you, seemingly closer than he was just a moment ago. HIs usually neat hair was now disheveled, a subtle blush graced his cheeks, and gods were his eyes always this pretty?

You lean closer to him, purely to take a closer look at his pretty face and most definitely not for any other reasons. The red eyeliner he usually wears is smudged at the wing, his hand that was once on your knee is now resting on your arm. You're still holding your empty wine glass, spinning it in your fingers while Scaramouche inches impossibly closer. Is the warmth spreading across your body coming from where he's touching you or have you had just one glass too many?

Honesty, you can't bring yourself to care with the way he looks at you. Maybe that's the real source of the heat.

“It’s just you and me here,” you drag your fingertips across his collarbone, a teasing trail that lingers on his shoulder. “No need to get so close.”

“Give it a rest,” he mumbles, voice slurring slightly. “Like you said, it’s just us. So shut up.”

“Make me.”

He leans in closer, ever closer, and presses his wine-stained lips onto yours. Time still as your hand, which was once wrapped around your wine glass, lets it slip from your fingers. You hear a soft thud as it finds its place on your carpet, but your attention is somewhere else entirely.

His hands, soft and warm, find their way to your waist and pull you closer. The taste of wine and the scent of his cologne threaten to intoxicate you further.

You tilt your head, deepening the kiss. A soft, breathless sigh escapes you, and you feel one of his hands moving to the small of your back, sending shivers down your spine. You grip his shoulder tighter in an attempt to anchor yourself while the rapid beating of your own heart echoes in your ears.

Scaramouche breaks away from the kiss for a moment to catch his breath. And you see nothing but want and need and desire in his eyes. He kisses you over and over again, each one more desperate than the last.

It’s just the two of you here — you let the world fall away as you start to run your fingers through his hair, a soft groan escaping him as you do this. Nothing else could matter in this moment.

And you’d kiss him all night if he’d let you.

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: nothing more than a mistake made in the heat of the moment. that's all it is, and that's how it should be. but perhaps there's more than meets the eye

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[lgbtqreads]

Hi, I recently read Alison Rumfitt's book Tell me I'm Worthless and I loved it so I requested her other book brainwyrms from my local library. But i was wondering if there are any other trans or lesbian horror books.

Sure are! If you like her stuff, check out Gretchen Felker-Martin's as well - Manhunt and Cuckoo, and there's also The Woods All Black by Lee Mandelo - trans horror but with a male protag (and historical). A little further away, Hell Followed With Us by Andrew Joseph White and Old Wounds by Logan Kisner are YA trans horror. And in lesbian, check out My Darling Dreadful Thing by Johanna Van Veen, The Wicked and the Willing by Lianyu Tan, We Ate the Dark by Mallory Pearson, Yellow Jessamine by Caitlin Starling, and Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield.

[rotting-ink]

Soooo, which of our lovely LIs have a breeding kink? And who woupd be happy with having a kid with you later down the line, either biological or adopted?

L. Rawlins- They have a huge breeding kink, regardless if you can even get pregnant or can impregnate them. They do want more kids, so adopt or fuck away.

S Della Rovere- They're unable to have kids but they're down to adopt. Especially since they know they're going to be the fun parent no matter what.

Z Chambers- Nope nope nope. They're dead, even if you adopt, they don't feel great about the parameters about being able to see an undead. Nope.

V De Winters- They seem a bit squeamish about it. Don't think that they'll be a good parent at all. Would have to persuade them a lot but would end up being a kind parent. But jesus christ, it would also fuck them up a bit and they'd have to get therapy.

Seir- Please please please please please please its time for demon spawn in you, they can impregnate or get pregnant, no matter either of you two's gender. Please, please, let them have little spawnlings around, my GOD.

Saleos- Does muse that they would need some sort of heir. Then a spare. Then a pair. Then many more to bear :> Same deal as Seir, regardless of your or their gender, they're able to get you or themselves pregnant.

Starling Knight- Drops everything when you bring it up. Mentions that they would be too busy at all to help. That's a lie. Best parent on the list probably. Also, free doctor trips. They might not like kids, but they'll like their own.

A Lancaster-Would eagerly agree, but only when time with the Hunters wind down. Easily best parent right after Starling. Active, happy, dependable but also stern.

E Rawlins- They'd be doubtful. They enjoy the act of making kids, but unsure about how they'd deal with it, sharing you with someone else, even if it's their own kid. Hit them with a rolled up newspaper. They're a good parent, even if reckless and uncaring about things like... Making your kid be a nice person. They always say to bite your problems.

Quincy Beaumont- .... Yeah, probably not. They don't really like kids, and they get hung up on the thought of parenting a toddler even if you point out that part doesn't last forever. Also, darling, they're a star! They wouldn't want to give up touring and singing in the opera! Would need to be a long, hard discussion.

D Woolf- Has a melt down. Firmly doesn't believe that they'll be able to be a good parent at all. Please hold them. Would need a long talk about it and many affirmations but would be a gentle parent.

[mosneakers]

Hey darlings! Since I don't have any more Halloween treats planned this year, I just want to take you with me for a moment, as we reflect on probably one of my most ambitious projects to date; the Rocky Horror Picture Show homage the characters of My Darling 4 put on 🥺💖 It was well over 30 renders consisting of both stills,animations, gifs and videos. And of course the last finale post, which came an entire year later, the Rose Tint My World scene, which felt like making a whole new movie all on it's own. I definitely caused myself some burn-out but I think the end result was well worth it! During this time I got to connect with some lovely souls who reached out, sharing their experiences with me about RHPS and living in the era where annual RHPS showings were a common tradition, and just stories I probably wouldn't have heard had I not taken this on. I got to geek out with fellow simmers who shared our passion for the movie (for example, @whyhellosims who SLAYED her take on it with her OC Felix!) It was so fun and exciting to put the MD4 characters in situations they'd normally never be in (Coni and Brick? I'm sorry??? Tycho and Morgyn in bed sharing a steamy kiss? I'm SORRY? STARLING WORKING A MINIMUM WAGE JOB? SHUT. UP.) I look back on this project so fondly, I feel like each of the characters matched RHPS so well, it just felt like fate ❤ Thank you all who showed so much love during that time, it definitely kept me fueled!

Check out the whole series here 💋

[sebsxphia]

Seb my love, have you seen water rises or the starling girl? Ik you're UK too and as a lew fan I'm STRUGGLING

yes! our darling @lewmagoo has a post containing all of lew’s filmography with links here! this is how i watched them both 🥹 enjoy, my love and i hope it works for you too! 💗🫶🏻

[sotiog]

✨ghost light✨

looking out through the crowd

front row seat in the pit

a swirling skirt twirls about

flesh flashes to the bit

-it’s mine.

darkened, like your eyes

my darling,

curtains drawn and a light

pierces the dust, a starling

-it’s us.

coquette, the bodies:

a hurricane of pirouettes-

the contrast that buries

these blurry silhouettes.

-it’s you.

the light stabs one

and everything stops.

can’t look away: it’s done;

skipped a beat and drops

-our hearts.

no applause, ‘just the two to stand

in a theatre full of echo

the two listens hand in hand

that bird song to bellow

to the end.

[roughribo]

Your Storm

you are tempest

but timid,

puddling

on my chest.

don't shy away little bird

and duck your head.

you're going to feel for me—

[relax my little starling]

going to feel a little bit of pressure

and you're going to fluster faster

and suffer slower.

[did I stutter]

now eye the shoreline:

my beard meeting jawline

brushing past mid-thigh kisses

[exhale, but don't forget

to breathe this moment back in]

become lower torso

kisses headed towards

tightly held wrists

because

I am the storm

across your skin

helping you bend

to my every whim.

I am the primal

rumble of thunder

on the back of

your neck.

I am the lightning

crack of the whip

fiercely searing

near my strike.

I am the forces

of nature overwhelming

your senses

cupping your essence

keeping you off-balance

and on the precipice

I hold you

[steady now girl,

this is where you start to lose yourself]

and mold you;

sculpting

your chaos into calm

is my purpose.

[you're so pretty because

you're my prey]

flood your

cerebellum, serotonin

is ruthless when

it's my resolve edging you

unmoored.

when I'm in pursuit of

occupying your

every. hitched.

breath.

raspy fury,

gasps operatic

like

monteverdi madrigals.

[let the waves wash over you darling]

I impose denial

on you,

indulge myself in selfish

euphoria,

let

these relentless endorphins

endorse this

passion engulfing your

attention

claw at me—

[I warned you

you'd lose yourself

to me]

I pry apart the cracks

in the beached logs,

—flushed flesh—

between your thoughts,

your thighs,

[you're going to feel

a prick of pleasure]

split the driftwood wide, make

you buoyant, gaped,

adrift awake

—dilated, oxygenated—

drift agape,

wrought iron-chained,

among the

flotsam

and tarnished ball

and chain and heavy

sensations of

powerlessness and entropy

will rot ire and

shame.

vanquished,

bawl and change deities.

—hooked, reeled in—

fingertip by fingertip

I loosen,

tease...

your grip on

your storm

your insecurities

our reality.

[tremble for me]

—everything rhymes

so sensational

feels pinpricks even

the taste of you like

pop rocks and static shock

rations are rational at

again this chaos is calming too

the pressure gives me life

with nothing makes sense

because it doesn't need to—

[hush]

stop. rise.

I am your storm

showing you the path to pleasure

is paved in vulnerability.

our world can swim, swirl,

whirl around us in uncertainty;

the quaking of earth

can be so thunderous

under us;

the drizzle can seem

like a deluge and clouds a prelude

to a downpour

out there;

but in here

I'm going

to set your body on fire.

leave my mark.

and you

are going to heel for me.

cleave to your heart.

look directly in my gaze.

I am the eye of your hurricane

and this is what it feels like to be safe,

sheltered by your storm.

[there, that wasn't so bad

now was it]

[enfyswanders]

Angelsey Island, Wales: July 26-28, 2024

After an initial misadventure getting to my hotel, I had an absolute blast in Angelsey, thanks to my fantastic friend and fellow Llewellyn author Kristoffer Hughes and his darling husband Ian, who coordinated a phenomenal experience.

What happened trying to get to the hotel, you ask? Well, here's the thing. The hotel website said it was "close to Holyhead Station." I checked the map and it said it was .9 miles away. Not too bad. Walkable if necessary, right? But I have heavy luggage and would really rather get a ride, so I planned to get a cab from the station.

Except...Holyhead is an Uber dead zone, as I discovered, with no cabs waiting at the station because it's so small, and the cab company a station employee told me to call had no availability to pick me up when I arrived. So I had to hoof it. And the walk took me about 45 minutes, because though it's .9 miles to drive, walking is a bit more circuitous.

And all that would've been okay, except that I discovered very early in the journey that my 45 pound suitcase wasn't rolling quite right. A quick inspection revealed why:

So, fuck. And another one of the wheels wasn't working well, either.

I tried flipping the suitcase around and dragging it on the better wheels, which was do-able but very awkward. I did eventually make it to the hotel, though, where I checked in, showered, then promptly went back out to walk 15 minutes back the direction I came from to buy another suitcase from a very weird department store that was just a bunch of kiosks in front of a warehouse. Wild.

After that adventure, I was picked up by Kristoffer and Ian, who took me out to dinner at the Sea Shanty Cafe with fellow Llewellyn authors Tiffany Lazic and Jhenah Telyndru and Tiffany's husband George. Both Tiffany and Jhenah were slated to present at the Goddess Conference, where I also presented the following week, so I got some good intel on the conference during dinner. The conversation flowed easily and I had some delicious seafood tagliatelle with steamed vegetables, and lemon crunch ice cream for dessert.

After dinner, Kristoffer and Ian took me to a 5500 year old stone burial mound across the street from my hotel. Neat! (Sorry, I did not get a photo.)

The next day was absolutely bombastic. Kristoffer and Ian picked me up again, and we did a grand tour of various holy ruins around Angelsey Island with fellow authors Mhara Starling, Moss Matthey, Brett Angelsey, and Lyndon and Clint, the hosts of the magickal postcast Shove It Up Your Awen.

The tour began at this unassuming pond across from an Air Force base, which has an interesting history you can read about on the signs below.

Another highlight was this amazing religious site, where the Angelsey Druid Order conducts rituals.

And, as a bonus, we visited Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch, the longest town name in Europe.

Our final site visited was this life-size D&D map village ruin with lots of fun places to explore.

We went to a fish & chip shop for dinner, where I found out they were appropriating Minnesota culture, how DARE.

I came away from the experience grateful for new and deepened friendships with these fine folks, as well as a deep envy of the Angelsey Druid Order for getting to practice their tradition at so many phenomenal ancient holy spaces.

[grey-rambles]

Of First Loves and Second Chances

Chapter Four

Words: ~6.9k

Warnings: Discussions of kidnapping and murder/blood, mentions of anarchy, swearing, a creepy dude hits on Starling at one point (very mild), and one scene that involves kissing

Notes: Finally, the chapter at least one person has been waiting for! This chapter features the @lyssys cameo during the Ball scene (it starts when the italics end if anyone is skipping straight to it) as Wilbur’s date. Special thanks to Carrie @pebblebrainlovejoy for her reassurances and feedback at my literally constant anxiety about the quality of my writing. Love you, Carrie, you’re the real MVP. If you enjoy this, please consider reblogging! It helps much more than a like.

Masterlist | Requests

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Seven years ago....

Things had been pretty quiet in your life since the... incident, three months prior.

Other than the odd condolence from folks in the street, people had left you and your family alone, for the most part.

You had been spending a lot of time by yourself recently, which wasn’t entirely coincidental. It wasn’t like you had had a particularly large friend base outside of Techno anyways, and you couldn’t bear the pitying stares of the others in town whenever you attended an event by yourself, so you had simply... stopped going.

You weren’t really sure why everyone was always so morose with you, anyways. Techno had told you he would come back to you, so that was that. There was no sense in grieving or anything of the sort, because he was coming back for you, simple as that. He had to be.

You didn’t like to think about what it would mean if he didn’t.

Besides, it had only been three months! That wasn’t very long at all in the grand scheme of things. Nothing to worry about, not at all.

Sighing to yourself, you head down to the kitchen for lunch, already planning a trip to the bookstore afterwards. You had grown increasingly close with Techno’s parents after everything, and typically spent at least a couple of afternoons a week with them, helping out around the bookstore. It was a nice way to still feel close to your beloved, even when he was so far away from you.

Upon walking past the study, you’re surprised to see your parents both seated at the desk, pouring over some papers. Knocking gently at the door, your father waves you in idly, eyes still scanning across the page he was reading.

“What are the two of you working on here?” you ask, trying to peek at the papers scattered across the desk’s surface.

“Nothing you need to worry about, darling,” your mother says, pulling papers towards her and away from the edge of the table. Suddenly suspicious, you quickly snatch up one of the pages from the desk and begin scanning your eyes over it to figure out what’s going on here.

You’re not happy with what you find.

“Are these... betrothal bids?” you say in disbelief. Your mother winces at your tone, but your father’s face is set in steely determination.

“It’s important that we find you an appropriate match, before everyone of our standing has already paired off. I won’t see you married to some lowlife who can’t give you the life that you deserve.”

“I understand that, Father, but you’re forgetting that I’m already betrothed.” You bring your left hand up to your chest, where your ruby ring still sits prominently.

It’s your mother who speaks up this time. “Darling....”

“No!” You cut her off. “You made an agreement with Techno’s family that we were to be married, and you’re already backing out of it? At least give him a chance to come home first, it hasn’t been that long!!”

Your father’s tone is cold. “The boy is gone, child. The sooner you accept that, the easier this will be, for all of us.”

You feel tears begin to well up in your eyes, and internally curse you weepy disposition. Fighting to keep your voice steady, you manage to force out, “He told me he would come back for me.”

Standing up and reaching for you, your mother says, “Oh, my baby...” You shrug her hands off and continue on through your increasingly heavy tears.

“He said he would come back! He promised! You can’t do this, because Techno is going to come back! He has to.” Pausing to take a shuddering breath in, you continue on a little bit more quietly, “What would become of me if he doesn’t?”

The room is silent for a moment, as you stare your father down. He breaks eye contact first, looking back down to the papers on the desk; you can’t find it in you to be happy at the small victory.

“I will be choosing a new partner for you from this pile of applications,” your father says to you, “and there’s nothing you can say that will change that.”

The world stops spinning around you. You feel a sudden wave of calm wash over you—your tears stop, and your voice comes out stronger than before when you speak again.

“I will not marry another. You can accept as many bids as you’d like, but I will marry no one but Technoblade. I’ll walk out of the church before the ceremony if I have to.”

The tears start to well up again as you finally admit aloud the thing you’ve known in your heart all along. “I love him. I always will, and no betrothal bid in the world could change that.”

“Bernard,” your mother is speaking quietly, as though she thinks you will not hear her if she does, “I told you it was too soon, we should have waited--”

“You can wait as long as you like, my answer will remain the same. I will not marry another. Techno will come back to me, and we will get married and live happily for the rest of our days.”

Your father stands abruptly, eyes blazing. “Go to your room.”

“Fine,” you reply, “but if I find out that you’ve accepted any of those bids, you’ll never see me again, and that is a promise.”

His hands slam on the desk, making you jump. “GO TO YOUR ROOM!” He repeats, much more harshly this time. You exit the study without speaking again.

Your mother follows you out into the hallway. Placing a gentle hand on your arm, she speaks quietly to you. “Darling, you know your father means well, and he just wants what’s best for you. Please, just think about it, alright?”

Turning to face her, you reply, “Techno is coming back to me. He promised he would, and so he will. I have to believe it, because the alternative is that he is dead, and I refuse to accept that.”

Removing your arm from your mother’s grip gently, you leave her standing in the hallway speechless, as you continue upstairs to your room.

You just barely manage to close the door behind you before you collapse to the ground, and the tears begin to flow freely once again.

‘What if he isn’t coming back?’ a small, traitorous voice in the back of your head whispers, ‘And you’re alone for the rest of your life?’

You shake your head sharply to dispel this line of thinking.

Techno was coming back to you. He had to be.

With these words on repeat in your head, you take a deep breath and move to continue on with your day, the ever persistent ache in your heart your only steadfast companion.

The castle has been alive with energy these past few days.

There was a ball coming up, you had learned, to celebrate the Empire’s recent military victories, as well as the Emperor’s upcoming birthday.

The Emperor himself was less than pleased about this whole thing, you had also learned.

“This whole thing was Wilbur’s idea,” Techno had explained to you one night when you were getting ready to fall asleep, head pillowed on his chest, with a paperback novel abandoned beside you on the bed, “and I’m fairly certain he did it just to spite me.”

“You still don’t like parties much, huh?” had been your sleepy reply. Techno hummed in agreement to that statement.

“I’ve never been to a ball before,” you had sighed out, “it sounds like it could be fun...”

Just as you were dozing off, you heard Techno gruffly speak into the silence.

“Maybe it won’t be so bad. As long as you’re there.”

Which led you to today, the day of the celebration.

You’d spent the past couple of weeks in various fittings for an outfit befitting of a Royal’s partner, all silk and lace, with a shiny new circlet and other jewellery to match. The clothing wasn’t as uncomfortable as you had feared it might be, and the blue and white of the Empire’s colours suited you well, thankfully.

You were currently waiting in the wings behind the largest platform of the Grand Hall to be introduced alongside your betrothed. Phil was also there, next to a beautiful woman you had never seen before wearing a gorgeous black gown and a veil over her face; Wilbur was standing nearby as well, accompanied by a young lady in a silvery-blue dress. He was nearly bent at the waist in order to be able to whisper something into her ear, which she was giggling at—it was sweet.

Trumpets sounded just outside of the curtains: it was time to enter the celebration. One by one, your names were called out by the steward (“Lord Phillip Craft, accompanied by the Lady Kristin”, “Lord Wilbur Soot, accompanied by the Lady Lyss”), until it was just you and Techno remaining behind the curtains.

He offered you his arm, which you took hold of gratefully, hand shaking slightly with nerves. “You ready?” he asks you gently.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, giving him a nervous smile.

“They’ll love you,” he’s quick to reassure, “and if they don’t I’ll have them executed.”

You laugh, but he doesn’t look like he’s joking.

Before you have a chance to try and unpack that any further, your names are being called, and Techno is leading you out into the bright lights of the Grand Hall. People are applauding, but you can barely hear it over the roaring in your ears.

Techno leads you down the stairs to the centre of the dance floor. It seems this must have been some sort of cue, because once the two of you are settled into place, other couples begin swarming the area as well. You end up between Wilbur and his partner (who gives you a little smile and a wave), and an older couple dressed in ostentatious outfits covered in feathers.

The music begins, and you scramble desperately to remember your childhood dance lessons. Techno had been your partner back then, too, you remember suddenly, and a wave of nostalgia washes over you so strongly that you almost stumble. If it weren’t for Techno’s grip on you, you would have.

Techno’s arm around your waist tightens. “You okay there, Starling?”

“Yeah, I’m all good,” you smile up at him, “just remembering when we first learned how to dance.”

He chuckles and replies, “Oh yeah, I forgot about that. Feels like a lifetime ago at this point.”

“You’re much better at it now than you were back then.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice other than to learn.”

A brief pause falls over the pair of you, before Techno speaks up again, tone a little hesitant and awkward, “You look breathtaking tonight.”

You feel your cheeks blaze into a blush, butterflies erupting in your stomach. “Thank you,” you reply, “It’s a good thing that Empire blue suits my colouring.”

He hums. “I think you’d look even better in red.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”

You once again lapse into a comfortable silence. Techno’s hand is warm on your waist as the two of you continue to make your way around the dance floor. His hair is pulled back in an elegant updo, and his many interconnected earrings flash in the flickering light of the ballroom. Your heart flutters, and you feel like a teenager all over again.

As the music begins to draw to a close, his eyes, glowing redder than usual in this lighting, flicker down to your mouth. The flutter in your heart picks up into a consistent pounding, and the butterflies turn into a storm.

Techno’s arm pulls you ever so slightly closer to him as the music fades away, and it feels like you’re the only people in the room.

You’re very abruptly reminded that this is not the case, when the pair of you are absolutely swarmed by well wishers the instant that the last notes of the violin have finished ringing out through the Grand Hall.

Techno does his best to keep a grip on your hand, but despite his best efforts, you’re swept away by the mob. You shoot him a smile and a wave from near the back of the crowd, and begin making your way over to the refreshment tables on the far side of the room. As you’re walking away, you can hear Techno’s voice rise above the noise of the Hall, sounding distinctly uncomfortable, and your heart squeezes that you can’t be with him to help.

After a brief stop to peruse the food and beverages on offer, you grab yourself a flute of champagne and a small chocolate tart, and continue making your way around the perimeter of the room, looking for a less crowded place to stand and eat your treat.

Nobody pays you much mind as you make your way through the crowd. You spot Phil and his mysterious companion on the far side of the ballroom, and wave briefly to Tommy where he stands with the rest of the servants near the main castle doorway. 

You eventually settle in a relatively isolated corner of the room, body mostly hidden in the shadow of a grand tapestry. 

As you take the first bite of your tart, the ensemble begins warming up their instruments for the next dance. You scan the crowd for Techno, and find him still surrounded, looking, at least to your eyes, like he would rather be anywhere else. 

You sigh. Looks like no more dancing for you for the foreseeable future. 

As the music returns full force, you idly watch the passing couples as they twirl passed. Wilbur and his partner glide by you, her pale blue skirt flashing silver where the material catches the light as he spins her around. You can't help but smile at the joy on their faces, even as your chest pangs slightly in jealousy.

Your silent contemplation is suddenly interrupted by a shadow looming over you to the left. You turn, startled, to see an unfamiliar face leering at you.

"May I have this dance?" he holds out a hand, cocky smirk still affixed on his face, as though he can't even fathom the idea that you would say no. 

"No thank you, I'm not interested."

The man scoffs, leaning further into your space, and your shoulders hike up instinctively. "Oh, c'mon honey, don't be like that…." You can smell the alcohol on his breath as it wafts over you.

"Thank you for the offer, but I'm really not interested." Sensing that this won't be enough to make him back down, you tack on, "I don't think that my betrothed would be very happy to hear you pressuring me to dance with you."

The man opens his mouth to reply, but before he can get a word out, a throat clears behind him.

“Is everything alright over here?”

You’ve never been more relieved to see Techno in your life. 

“Nothing you need to be concerned about, Majesty,” the man says with a sneer. Techno eyes him up and down, expression stony.

“Thanks, but I wasn’t actually talking to you,” Techno replies coldly, before his garnet eyes meet your own, expression visibly softening. “Are you okay, Starling?”

He holds a hand out towards you, and you don’t hesitate to take it. You’re quickly tugged away from the other man and tucked tightly into Techno’s side. You push yourself as close to him as you can possibly get, body relaxing instinctively into his warmth.

The other man has the audacity to laugh. Techno’s grip on you tightens. “Oh, honey, really? This is your betrothed?”

He takes a stumbling step forwards, and Techno instinctively shifts so that your body is partially shielded behind his own. Across the Hall, you can see Phil beginning to make his way over to where you’re standing, and Wilbur appears to be making his way over slowly, as well, as the music again fades out.

“Are we going to have a problem?” Techno asks, voice low and dangerous, hand moving to rest on the pommel of his sword. You had thought it was there purely for decoration, but apparently not.

The other man’s eyes stray towards the weapon, and he clearly isn’t drunk enough to think that fighting the Emperor is a good idea, because he takes a step back, hands raised in an ‘I surrender’. “No, Sire,” he says the honorific as though it is a slur, “I was just surprised to hear that someone like you had managed to snag someone so lovely to be your partner.”

Techno goes very still beside you.

Before either of you can add anything to the conversation, the man continues on, his eyes locked onto yours this time. “Tell me honey, do you know about what your betrothed really is? Has he told you about all the people he’s killed? The cities he’s burned in the name of the Blood God?” The man lets out an almost deranged laugh, “Let’s face it Your Majesty, no matter how much you hide behind your military accolades, and your holier-than-thou front, everyone here knows that you’re nothing but a monster.”

Time feels like it freezes for a moment, as the small group of you standing there process the words that were just spoken.

Several things happen in rapid succession, then.

Tommy appears, seemingly out of nowhere, jumping onto the man’s back, screaming “YOU BITCH” at the top of his lungs, as the man flails trying to get him off. More people jump into the fray in an attempt to separate the pair, a few strangers, but also a few familiar faces, Techno among them. 

“Guards!” he yells out, and six members of his Royal Guard, including Captain Dream, come storming into the scene. You very quickly find yourself sidelined, standing near the mysterious Lady that was accompanying Phil this evening– she gives you a small smile from underneath her veil.

The man is very quickly subdued, what with six guards, the Emperor himself, and an irate teenager all attempting to bring him down (although that last one was more a hindrance than a help; Tommy himself needing to be restrained by a put-upon looking Sapnap to stop him from jumping the man all over again).

The man sneers up at Techno from where he’s being held, kneeling, by two guards. Technoblade’s face appears impassive as he looks down at the man. Backlit by one of the hanging lamps that line the walls, he looks like some sort of avenging angel, here to pass judgement on the man kneeling before him.

Techno regards the man for another moment. Silence reigns in the ballroom, the scuffle having drawn the attention of the other guests present, as all in witness wait in anticipation to hear what the Emperor will decide.

“Take him away,” Techno says, face remaining a stony mask. The guards begin moving towards the doorway, hauling the man between them, and Techno turns away from the sight. 

The man makes eye contact with you as he’s being dragged past. “I’d be careful if I was you, honey,” he spits, “getting too close to a monster like that thing can only end poorly for you.” 

You scoff at him, turning away, and he laughs derisively. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you!” are his parting words, as the guards finally reach the grand doors leading out of the Hall.

The silence continues for another couple of moments once the doors close behind them. Your eyes search for Techno in the crowd, and you find him quickly, still facing away from the crowd, shoulders visibly tensed. 

The crowd unfreezes after a moment, and you quickly find yourself swarmed by a crowd of nobles, all of whom you’ve never met before. 

“That must have been so scary,” a lady practically squeals in your ear, and you step away from her on instinct, only to bump into a gentleman just behind her, who immediately begins grilling you for information about what happened before everyone’s attention had been drawn in by the fight. 

After a minute, you manage to extract yourself from the situation, scanning the crowd wildly for Techno, but you can see no sign of him anywhere in the vicinity. Turning slowly in a circle, your eyes continue searching for your betrothed in the crowd. You spot Tommy, speaking angrily to Sapnap, while he stands there, looking exasperated at this turn of events. Phil is in the corner where you last remember seeing Techno, speaking very seriously to his mysterious companion. So many people, all in colourful party clothes swim past your eyes, but none of them the one you’re searching for. 

A tap on your shoulder jolts you out of your focused search, and you turn around, startled, to see Wilbur’s companion standing there, a sympathetic look in her eyes. 

“He went that way,” she says, pointing to the tapestry on the Northernmost wall of the Grand Hall. At your look of confusion, she clarifies, “There’s a secret passage behind there that leads up to some of the galleries on the next floor up. Not many people know about it, so it’s a pretty easy escape route.”

Expressing your gratitude quickly, you begin making your way towards the tapestry. Lady Lyss calls out “Good luck!” to your back, and you shoot her a final smile over your shoulder, before slipping behind the tapestry and into the secret passage.

It’s surprisingly clean and well lit for something that’s supposed to be a relatively well kept secret, but you quickly shake free of that train of thought, and follow the short hallway down to a spiraling staircase up to the next floor.

Carrie if you’re reading this I love you <3<3<3

Once you reach the top of the staircase, you take stock of your surroundings. You’re in a relatively unfamiliar and little used section of the castle, one that you had only walked through maybe twice before during your initial exploration of the grounds when you had first arrived. The hallway is sparsely lit, with only every third torch on the wall illuminated, and you can see alcoves with openings overlooking the Grand Hall periodically. 

Along the other side of the hallway are darkened rooms, that you remember as being mainly unused guest bedchambers and seldom frequented galleries. Walking slowly down the hallway, you peer into each room as you pass by, scanning the perimeter for a Techno-shaped shadow. 

The third room you look into, you find success.

Moonlight spills through the bay windows, silhouetting your betrothed in silver light where he stands, with his back to you, in front of the window.

You must make some sort of sound, because Techno turns abruptly to face you. The moon now backlighting him, he almost looks like he’s glowing, the light glinting off of his crown making the golden metal appear closer to a silvery halo. His eyes stand out, intense in their scarlet glow against the shadowed silhouette of the rest of his face.

The two of you maintain eye contact for a breathless moment before Techno turns to face the window again, still silent. You slowly begin approaching him, the sound of your footfalls against the stone floor echoing loudly in the otherwise silent room.

You reach Techno’s side a minute later, but he keeps his eyes cast forward out the window. Standing next to him, not touching, but close enough together that you can feel his body heat to your right, you also allow your gaze to wander over the view outside of the window. This section of the palace overlooks the cliffs on the far East of the castle grounds, which you can just make out the shape of in the moonlight. Beyond that, the ocean stretches, dark and cold, into the horizon; the moonlight glinting off of the surface of the water illuminates the occasional ice floe, stark white against the surrounding water. 

Beside you, Techno lets out a sigh. “Why are you here, Starling?” he asks, tone weary.

“I came to make sure you were okay,” you reply evenly, despite the anxiety crawling inside of your chest.

He scoffs. "Of course I'm okay. It's nothing that I haven't heard before."

"That doesn't make it okay though," you counter gently. 

He returns his gaze to the window, and silence reigns supreme over the two of you once again. 

“Aren’t you going to ask about it?” Techno says suddenly, quite abrupt in his delivery.

“Ask about what?”

“What he said back there. About me burning cities and slaughtering masses. Surely you’re curious about how true all of that was.”

“Techno,” you place your hand on his arm, and he finally looks you in the eye, “I won’t ask about it if you don’t want me to. I’ll wait as long as you need me to, until you’re ready to tell me about your past on your own terms.”

The two of you stare at each other for a minute, no words exchanged. Music starts up again in the ballroom and drifts, just barely audible, to your ears.

Techno clearly hears it too; his eyes flick over to the doorway for a moment, then back to you. A conflicted expression briefly passes over his face, before it smooths back out into his typical impassive face.

Before you can even open your mouth to ask him what that was about, he’s moving to the center of the room and thrusting an open hand towards you. You stare at it for a moment, bewildered, before raising your eyeline to meet his.

With a faint blush on his cheeks, Techno abruptly says, “Dance with me.”

You blink. Then, slowly, you approach him and take his hand.

He immediately sweeps you into his arms, beginning a slow swaying to the faint chords of the violin drifting up from downstairs. The two of you fall into rhythm just as easily as you had at the start of the night, but with a few key differences this time around.

You’re standing much closer to him than propriety would typically allow now, and his hand is resting far lower on your back than it was when you started the night. The exposed skin there tingles where his fingers rest, hot like a brand, against your back. 

Tentatively, you bring your head down to rest against Technoblade’s shoulder, relaxing your body against him. His hand briefly tightens against your back, before he relaxes and shifts to accommodate more of your body weight. Your legs are brushing together each time you sway to either side, practically intertwined with how close together you are; you can hear Techno’s heartbeat underneath your ear, steady and strong, albeit a bit fast. 

“I have a scar,” Techno begins haltingly, a minute or so later, “in the center of my chest. I got it during the ritual that the cult did to summon the Blood God. I almost died– I did die, except the Blood God brought me back. He chose me as His champion. His Vassal.”

He pauses for a moment, taking a couple of deep, shuddering breaths. You can do nothing but burrow deeper into his chest, rubbing small, soothing circles on his back as best you can. 

Techno presses on after a minute, though it seems as though it takes him much more effort than usual to maintain his usual expressionless tone. “Time gets a little… weird for me, for the next little bit. It’s a pretty big adjustment, having a God inside your head all the time. I did a lot of stuff at that point, because the cult wanted me to. They were trying to build the Blood God’s strength back up, and to do that, they needed a lot of blood, and since I was his vassal, it had to be me that did it. I… I killed a lot of people.”

“Did you want to?” you can’t help but ask, internally wincing almost as soon as the words have left your mouth. Techno seems to take it in stride though.

Sighing deeply into your hair, he says, raw honesty evident in his voice, “I’m not certain. Our thoughts and desires were all… jumbled up during that time, Him and me. I have a hard time picking apart which were the things He wanted and the things I wanted. They’re really one and the same.”

“It got easier, to tell things apart as the Blood God grew stronger,” Techno continues on, almost as though he’s trying to reassure you, “and it got so that he and I could have actual conversations in my head as two separate entities shortly before Manifestation,” Techno laughs faintly here, but it isn’t a happy sound. “He uh… wasn’t too happy, both with how the cult were treating me, and with what He saw in my memories of how all this came to be. The last thing He did before Manifesting in His own separate, Godly form was commandeer my body to slaughter them all with Divine strength.”

He takes another shuddering breath, and you can’t help but interrupt. “You don’t have to tell me anything, Tech.” 

“No, I want to,” he counters, “You deserve to know.” 

When it becomes clear to him that you aren’t going to say anything more, he continues on, voice a little steadier now, “I wandered for a little while after the Manifestation and subsequent massacre. After Manifesting, the Blood God kinda just… left me to my own devices, although I still bear His mark, and I can channel His power in certain situations, if He deems it worthy. It’s come in handy a few times, although I shudder to think what may have happened if I had ever lost His favour.

“I tried to find my way home after everything, but I never was great with directions, and I wound up getting picked up by some nobel from the Kingdom of Hypixel, who brought me in to be a gladiator in the Capital. That’s actually where I met Phil.”

“What about Wilbur and Tommy?” you ask, and Techno chuckles. “They came along a little later on, after we had already started the Empire.”

“Oh yeah, how did that happen, anyways?”

“Ahaha….” he laughs awkwardly, “Uh, Phil and I…. kinda overthrew a government?”

You move to pull away slightly to look up at his face, eyebrows raised, though his hand tight on your back makes it hard to pull away more than a few inches. He smiles at the look on your face, and is quick to continue with his story, gently pulling your head back to his chest.

“Phil and I met in the Gladiator ring. Our quarters in the fighter’s wing were next to each other, so we became friends almost out of necessity. The fighters… weren’t treated super well, and we got to talking about how unfair it was, and next thing I knew we were recruiting the other gladiators to our cause and starting a rebellion throughout the Capital.”

“Okay, but that doesn’t explain how you ended up the Emperor of an Empire.”

You try to pull back to look into his eyes again, but his hand holds your head to his chest this time around. Still, he’s quick to elaborate in answer to your claim, so you allow yourself to relax back against him. 

“Turns out, the King and the rest of the upper crust weren’t just unkind to us fighters; they were unkind to pretty much all of the citizens that they viewed as lower class. So, the people were actually pretty happy to have somebody else take over. I became kind of… an icon? For the rebellion? Like, a rallying figure.”

Silence falls for a beat. The string quartet down in the ballroom hits a crescendo, but you and Techno never change the gentle speed of your swaying.

“I didn’t really want to be in charge once the dust settled. I mean, you know me, I hate people, and socializing, and that’s like, half of this job at the end of the day. But Phil talked me into staying, and now here I am.”

You giggle a bit at his tone at the end, asking, “What did he have to say to you to convince you of that?”

Techno chuckles into your hair for a moment, before letting out a sigh. “He convinced me that expanding the Empire and annexing towns with the resources we had would be a more effective way to look for you than me searching on my own.”

Your breath catches in your throat. “What?” you breathe out.

“Did you think there would be another reason? I never forgot the promise I made you. The only reason I ever kept going was the thought of seeing you and my parents again.”

“Did you ever find your parents?” you can’t help but ask. You hadn’t seen them in years at this point, not since your family had moved away about a year and a half after Techno’s disappearance. You hoped that they were well.

Techno’s grip tightens around you. “Yeah, we uh. We found them.” His voice doesn’t sound happy when he says this, and you feel your stomach drop.

“What happened?”

“We got there too late. The whole town was rubble by the time Phil and I arrived on scene. We had allied with another faction for this battle, and their commander had instructed them to burn everything to the ground.” 

There’s a shuddering exhale against your hair, but Techno’s voice is as steady as ever when he continues to speak. “I found my parents’ bodies in the ruins of the bookstore. I was just too late to save them.”

“Oh, Tech–” you begin, but he barrels right on, speaking over you for the first time that night. His grip on you is almost painful, it's so strong.

“I went to your house next, and there was nothing there but ruins. I was so convinced I had lost you–”

“Techno you’re hurting me.”

He lets go of you as though he’s been burned, quickly backing away and keeping his eyes on the floor. The music has stopped in the Grand Hall, leaving only the sound of your breathing in its wake.

You take a hesitant step towards him, and Techno flinches. 

“My family moved away,” you say softly, “a little over a year after I lost you.”

He nods his head, swallowing audibly, and adds, “I know. Alex- the guy my parents hired to help out in the bookstore?- survived, and I ran into him. He let me know that you weren’t living there anymore.”

You take another step forward, and reach out to cup his face in your hand. He keeps his eyes on the floor, breath still uneven. 

You place your other hand on his face, and gently force his head up until he meets your eyes. 

“Look at me,” you command, “I’m right here okay? I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Techno clutches at one of your hands like a lifeline. “Gods, Starling. When I thought I had lost you… I’ve never experienced anything worse in my life. Any and all suffering I had faced with the cult, in the fighting rings, all of it paled in comparison to how it felt to think that I would never see you again.”

He reaches out his other hand to cup your cheek, and you turn your face to press a kiss to the inside of his palm. In response, he hooks his hand on the back of your neck and draws you close once again, but in an inverse of your earlier position, with his head buried in the crook of your shoulder, hands now clutching at your back.  

In response, you pet his hair as best you can with the updo it’s in, murmuring reassurances into his ear. 

After a minute, he pulls back, eyes shiny in the dim moonlight. “I love you,” he says, his gaze boring into you and leaving you breathless. 

“I love you too,” you manage to force out past the lump in your throat. Techno smiles, wider than you’ve seen since you were children, and you can’t help but let out a breathless giggle. 

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, and you can do nothing but nod, butterflies crawling up your throat as he leans down slowly to press his lips against yours.

Throwing away any sense of decorum you may have had remaining, you push yourself up onto your tiptoes and deepen the kiss, tangling your fingers into Techno’s hair with no regard for his updo any longer. 

He pulls away from you after a long moment, both of your chests heaving. 

“Again,” you say, already moving back towards his lips. He breathes the barest hint of a laugh against your lips before indulging you once again.

You lose some time here, pressing kiss after kiss against Techno’s lips, his cheeks, his neck, wherever you can reach. You must have moved at some point, though you don’t remember when, because you find yourself pressed up against the bay window, legs wrapped firmly around Techno’s waist, hands still in his hair, with his arms resting on either side of your head, caging you in. The glass is freezing against your back, but Techno’s body feels like fire every place he’s touching you.

He brings his head down into the crook of your neck, and his breath against the sensitive skin there makes you shiver, legs instinctively tightening around him.

“Gods, Starling,” Techno groans into your neck, before placing a soft kiss to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. When your hand tightens in his hair at the feeling, he does it again. And again, open-mouthed this time, before sucking some of the skin into his mouth and biting down. 

He’s going to leave a mark, you think somewhat dizzily through the haze of pleasure, and heat pools in the bottom of your stomach at the thought. Your eyes flutter closed around a whine, head tilting unconsciously further to the side to give him more room.

There’s a thud from near the entrance of the gallery.

Almost before you’ve registered what’s happening, Techno has pulled away from you and turned around, your body shielded behind him. He has his sword drawn and held steady in a defensive position, but when no threat immediately makes itself apparent, he relaxes minutely, sword lowering down next to him, though still cautiously on guard.

“Who’s there?” Technoblade calls out, voice echoing slightly, “Show yourself!”

Nothing. 

“As the Emperor of the Antarctic Empire, I demand that you show yourself now. If you have no malicious intentions, I promise that no harm will come to you.”

You hold your breath, but as a few long moments pass by with no ominous figures emerging from the shadows, you relax, draping your arms around Techno’s neck and pressing your body against his back to speak into his ear. “Looks like it was nothing.”

He hums at your words, but doesn’t turn around, eyes still scanning over the darkness of the room.

Pouting slightly at being ignored, you take Techno’s earlobe between your teeth, smirking when you hear his breath hitch.

“Starling…”

“What?” you say, trying to keep your grin out of your voice.

Techno sighs deeply, put upon, but he’s smiling when he rearranges your bodies so that you’re face to face. He still doesn’t turn his back to the door, you note, choosing to move you both so that your sides are to the door. 

He presses a kiss to your cheek. “I have to go check it out. I’ll be right back.”

“Do you have to?” you ask, winding your arms around his neck again, practically hanging off of him. 

He rolls his eyes, jostling you gently until you relent and let him go. “It’s probably nothing,” he replies, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand in a silent apology, “but I still need to make sure. For my peace of mind, if nothing else.”

“Fine,” you sigh dramatically, though your besotted expression betrays your true feelings.

“Stay right here, okay?” Techno tells you, “I’ll be right back.”

You lean your back against the window again, as Techno vanishes into the darkness. 

Thinking back over the past little while, you can’t help the swoop in your stomach as a giddy smile overtakes your face. 

Almost in a daze, you move to press against the mark you’re sure is forming on your neck, suppressing another shiver as the dull ache pulses pleasantly against the pressure.

Maybe you could convince Techno to head back to his bedroom once he got back. As attractive as it was that he could support your whole body weight standing up, you imagined that this would be even more fun laying down….

You’re broken from your reverie by the sound of shattering glass.

An unfamiliar pair of arms wraps around your body from behind. You struggle against them as hard as you can, letting out a single scream before a cloth is covering your mouth and nose. Instinctively, you inhale, smelling something cloyingly sweet.

Your vision begins to turn dark around the edges, head lolling as the stranger adjusts their hold on you into something more secure.

The last thing you see before your vision blacks out entirely is Techno's horror-stricken face in the gallery doorway.

Wind rushes through your hair, almost soothingly, as your assailant falls backwards out the window. You take what little comfort you can from the sensation, as you finally succumb to unconsciousness.

The reason that Lyss knows the passageway is there is because Wilbur and her snuck out through there at the last Ball. I couldn’t fit it in to the story, but I wanted everyone to know.

[adorastarling]

Across:

3. Student who went on second mission and identified the wrong wish at first.

5. 4-Down was replaced by another student, named _____.

7. Student who went on first mission and identified wrong Wisher at first.

9. Headmistress of Starling Academy. She came up with a secret plan to send twelve students to Wishworld to collect wish energy.

10. There were band tryouts, and a machine called the _____ chose the members. It also named the band the Star Darlings. That made 9-Across very upset, as it gave up our secret name.

Down:

1. This mean student wanted to be lead singer of the band, but she lost. I don’t think we’ve heard the end of it.

2. The head of admissions. She stutters when nervous and trips a lot. Everyone feels a little sorry for her.

4. It was determined that this student’s assignment as a Star Darling was a mistake, and she was replaced.

6. All the Star Darlings who have tasted this Wishworld drink love it.

8. Student who went on third mission. Her wish pendant was mysteriously ruined. She also did not collect any wish energy.

------

Found this while I was reading Vega's book, figured I'd remake it and share

Fun Fact: She made this and worded it, so it is canon and exists in universe

Feel free to download the image and solve it I'd be happy to help give out the answers to those who want them in my dms If you want to, comment what you think the answers are

[whisperthatruns]

viii.

One day, I come out onto a street in New York. A very old man is on the sidewalk selling antique maps. I smile. I walk up to him.

“Sir, do you have any of the Arctic?”

His eyes look into mine more deeply now. For one quick second, we make love, the way strangers who are not really strangers---they just have never met before---touch each other deep inside with their eyes.

“Of course I do, Darling,” he says in a thick and gorgeous Urdu accent. “But,” he hesitates, and holds up his index finger: “I have only one.”

We smile at each other. We are suddenly in love, and we understand our whole love affair---from beginning to end---will take place right here, between our words, for only these few moments.

I look at the map. On the small sheet of paper, there are two frames: the North Pole is on top, the South Pole on the bottom. All the water is white. The scattered lands are green. Besides the fine black print, these are the only colors. In large bold letters across the middle of both poles is the word UNEXPLORED.

Later I will think: How like this map I am. The top and bottom of me---both---so unknown. My most essential pivots: uncharted yet toggling in perfect geometry. My heart a country called Greenland, yet always covered in ice. My brain an Iceland, but greener than every sea. Prehistoric elephants embedded beneath my skin, along with carved ivory ornaments ten thousand years old that belonged to me when I was someone’s wife during the last ice age. Always something in me freezing harder, while another part insists on melting. And then this equator in the middle of my body---so hot, so lush---I can visit, but only for a day.

I buy the map. It is fifteen dollars. The man and I smile at each other. His face is a whole flock of starlings, which suddenly alights upon me---me, bare winter tree. In one minute, we have lived fifty years together. In one minute, we’ve had ten children. I’ve tended a goat and brought him a cup of its frothy milk. He’s covered my head with a white muslin scarf, then stood beside me while we cremated my father. We’ve grown gray together. I have loved his body and mind thoroughly. I say goodbye. I rub red ochre into the middle part of my hair. I throw garlands of marigolds into his casket before the moment closes the lid.

Robin Coste Lewis, from “The Ark: Self-Portrait as Aphrodite Using Her Dress for a Sail,” To The Realization of Perfect Helplessness (Alfred A. Knopf, 2022)

[kararisa]

darling, starling

— 9. iridescence — ✦ (wc: 0.6k)

“Is this going to take any longer?” you ask.

It’s an interesting feeling, having Scaramouche in your lap while he does your makeup. The side of his palm gently rests against your cheek as he does your eyeliner, his brow furrowed in concentration while you rest against the cushions of your sofa. His indigo hair and indigo eyes are barely illuminated by the dimmed lights of your living room, an insistence of his even at your protest of the horrid lighting for makeup.

“It’ll only take a moment longer,” he responds.

“You said that ten minutes ago,” an over-exaggeration on your part, but you couldn’t see how a makeover could take so damn long.

Scaramoche grins, his voice dripping in mock innocence, “Perfection takes time. Or however that saying goes. I’m not used to putting makeup on another person so just cooperate with me, will you?”

You do your best to glare at Scaramouche as he finishes up your eyeliner. The two of you have been at this for a while now, bantering while he does your makeup. When he finishes, whenever that may be, the two of you will swap places so you can give him a makeover in return. Admittedly an interesting arrangement to re-enact for a scene in his book, but you have to admit it’s been alright so far. He isn’t terrible, he just takes too long for your liking.

“Part your lips a bit. I’m putting lipstick on you,” you oblige, and Scaramouche continues while he dabs color on your lips. “Our ruse has been quite effective so far. But people seem to think we’ve been in love for longer than we’ve been dating.”

Amusement colors your voice, “I mean, I like to think it makes our whole act more effective.”

He finally leans back to inspect his work after what seems like forever and declares that he’s done — time for you to switch places. He gets off you to take a seat by your side. You take the opportunity to reposition yourself and straddle him.

Only to get a proper look at him while you give him a makeover, of course.

A few minutes of silence pass when Scaramouche speaks up, “The whole point of me asking you to do this was for us to talk. So talk.”

“Like what, the groceries?”

“Doesn’t matter. Just talk.”

“Well,” you pause, twisting the makeup sponge in your hand before getting back to work. “I think we’re running out of eggs? And we only have a little bit of flour left.”

“Did you add it to the list on the fridge?”

“I already did, smartass. You were the one who told me to talk.” you laugh slightly when you see him glaring at you, and you move your other hand to rest on his shoulder. “Stop looking all grumpy like that. You’re gonna make me mess up.”

“I am not ‘looking all grumpy’.”

“Oh, you definitely are.” you chide, dabbing his cheek with your makeup sponge. “Ooooh is my grumpy face mad at me?”

“Shut up and just get this over with, will you?” Scaramouche averts his gaze. “Absolute terror.”

You move on to doing his eyeliner before you continue talking, “I could help you cook dinner tonight if you want.”

“Absolutely not,” he answers curtly. “You’re still banned from the kitchen.”

“The thing that happened with the air fryer wasn’t even that bad.” you protest.

“Do I need to remind you what happened? You quite literally –”

“Okay fine, maybe I should leave the cooking to you today. But one day you’ll lift my ban from my own fucking kitchen.”

“Not happening until you learn how to actually cook.”

“Gonna need a good teacher for that, so why don’t you teach me?” you jest

He gives you an incredulous look before responding, “Sure. Whatever. Are you done with my eyeliner yet?”

“Stop moving and I’ll get done quicker.”

✧— previous — masterlist — next —✧

summary: being the world-famous singer-songwriter "zenith", the limelight has been on you ever since the start of your career. however, the media becomes relentless when leaks of music you never meant to release begin to circulate. your friend scaramouche, meanwhile, seems to have gotten stuck while writing his second book. with a deadline fast approaching, he comes to you with a deal: act as if you're dating him so he can gather reference material and, in turn, he'll help keep the press' eyes off of your leaks until you release your next album. a win-win in your book, so why not help a friend out?

author's notes:

they're definitely not in love guys trust me

taglist — currently OPEN:

@aestherin @unsterblich-prinz @yourstrulykore @krnzysh @syriiina @yumiaur @featuredtofu @kodzusmiles @meigalaxy @fangygf @motherscrustytoenailclippings @samyayaya @hiimera @beriiov @e0nssadrift @dazaisboner @nillajhayne @chluuvr @nillajhayne @deffenferofjustice @romyoia @xiaomainlmao @hotgirlshit5 @potabletable @letthewindlead @esuz @toriiee @kclremin @angelkazusstuff @phoenix-eclipses @sakiimeo @mayuumine @ako-ang-mahal-ko @only-cherry-blossom @keiiqq @what-just-happened-huh @n3r0-1417 @haunts-gh0st @layla240 @mamafly @duckyyyx @certified-shrimp @kgogoma @xtobefreex @aeongiies @mechanicalbeat1 @meidnightrain @nordicbananas @feiherp @erzarq

[thecastingcircle]

 A few years ago Disney launched a doll line called “Star Darlings” with webisodes, books, and music.  It looked like it was poised to be the next big thing and then just as quickly it vanished.

Sage, Leona, Libby, Scarlet, Vega and seven other Starling Academy students discover that they are the chosen “Star-Charmed” Star Darlings. Will they have what it takes to save Starland from the negative energy that is threatening their world? 

 About Star Darlings: As far back as anyone can remember, Starlings have granted wishes for Earthlings. But when an evil force suddenly threatens Starland, twelve Star-Charmed girls are sent on the most magical adventures of their lives…as THE STAR DARLINGS!

Our Starlings believe in making wishes from the heart, dreaming big and embracing your inner star, because anything is possible! Wish upon your Star!

Now, it’s just be announced that Disney’s next animated feature film is going to be “Wish”.

When Jennifer Lee, Walt Disney Animation Studios chief creative officer, took the stage at D23 Expo to give fans a closer look at what’s coming to the big screen and Disney+ in the coming years, she invited “Wish” co-directors Chris Buck and Fawn Veerasunthorn to join her to share more about the film. Buck co-directed “Frozen” with Lee and Veerasunthorn worked on “Zootopia,” “Raya and the Last Dragon” and “Moana.”

“Wish” is expected to be released in November 2023 as part of the company’s year-long 100th anniversary celebration.

 The film’s heroine is named Asha, and will be voiced by Ariana DeBose, who recently won an Oscar for her work in Steven Spielberg’s “West Side Story” remake. The directors described Asha as a witty, driven, 17-year-old who cares deeply about her community, the Kingdom of Rosas — also known as the Kingdom of Wishes — which needs her help against a serious threat.

Buck said Asha’s journey will pit her against “one of the most formidable foes in Disney history. Asha sees a darkness in the kingdom that nobody else does and must find a way to help the people she loves.”

Asha makes a wish to the stars for guidance and the power of her wish brings down a star from the sky to help her — “Star,” a “cosmic force,” and a “little ball of boundless energy” that communicates through pantomime. The audience got a sneak peek and, from what we saw, Star is destined to be a fan-favorite character.

Giving Star a run for the cuteness prize will be Valentino (voiced by Alan Tudyk), a pajama-wearing goat who wishes for the ability to speak.

We can’t be the only ones to see the resemblance between the two properties.  Did Disney purposefully tank “Star Darlings” in favor of “Wish”?  I wonder what The Zappa family (creators of the property) thinks.

Starland

[batnbreakfast]

Hi everyone,

I know that I said I’d post a what-to-watch poll for our next Zoom, but my hay fever (originally autocorrected to: gay fever, and I wish that would be the case) has slowly been killing me during the last days and I have about zero energy right now.

So to keep things simple:

If you answer no, which is absolutely okay, you’ll have to comment with a (feasible) alternative. 😄