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[sapphicmsmarvel]

feysand: getting together

feyre and rhysand discover the beauty of triad-bonds. no smut, all fluff, a sprinkle of angst.

buckle in we got a long ride (3K but hey this is long for me)

- It was interesting how you three got together. 

- Of course Rhysand initially thought that he and Feyre got together first out of the three of you.  

- No. You and Feyre lost your virginities together, and had your first kisses together. 

- She calls you her first love, always has. 

-Rhysand has always found you interesting, you were an angel compared to Nesta and Elain. When Feyre had come back to the mortal lands, you were the only one to look at her with relief. He could practically taste it as you brought her into your arms and cried into her hair. 

“Oh, my love. Whose ass am I kicking?” 

He didn’t miss the nickname, nor the way Feyre glowed after you called her that. Or how you never left her side. 

It was the first time he had heard Feyre giggle. 

So he knew right then and there he was going to protect you no matter what. That opinion was solidified when you welcomed them in with open arms, no questions. Then, you snapped at Nesta on their behalf. 

He remembers when he asked you why you let them in so easily. You had shrugged and said, “Feyre trusts you. I trust you.”

It was…interesting to say the least. If he wasn’t so smitten with Feyre he’ll admit that he could fall for you. 

-One night, after the war, after Cassian and Nestas' mating ceremony and baby Nyx’s birth; the two of them laid in bed with the babe cuddled into Feyre’s chest. He asked the question he had been dying to ask. “Were you and Y/N ever….?” 

She looked at him as if she was nervous, “yes.” She whispered, her voice small. “Is that a problem?”

“No!” Rhysand whispered fervently. Quietly enough to not wake Nyx, but loud enough that it showed how much he meant it. “I’ve always had a feeling.” 

She sighed, tears brimming her eyes, “gods these stupid hormones.” 

He wiped her tears. “I’m not mad.” 

“I know. But…” she shook her head. “It’s really scary.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“No, I want to. But I also want to show memories, so you can….understand why I don’t ever want her to leave my life.” 

“I mean, I don’t know her nearly as well, yet I don’t want her to leave my life either. She’s….” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, and if Feyre didn’t feel the exact same way, she might’ve nailed his dick to the wall.  

“Yeah.” She sighed. “She has a way of captivating people.” 

He felt her brush against his shields, and he opened up to her. 

“We met when we were five years old. Around age six, I declared I was going to marry her. Everyone laughed at me, but when I told her that she just smiled and said, ‘I want to marry you too’. Of course, we were six years old, we didn’t know any better. All throughout our childhood we shared a bond, I thought my entire life she was my soulmate.” 

As Feyre spoke, Rhysand saw her weave the tale of you two. 

“Then, I fell for Tamlin, and then you. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone. But she’s always stayed in my heart. When we went back to the village to see my sisters, I was more nervous to see her. Nesta and Elain rejected me my entire life, she was the one person that never did. I don't know what I would’ve done if she looked at me like that. Like I was a monster.”  

He then felt the happiness that Feyre felt that day when you took her into your arms. He could feel the tears that hit Feyres neck as you cried. Your perfume seemed to have a mind of its own and weave around her. He was in Feyre’s head, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to leave this embrace. 

As the night went on, she shared more memories of the two of you. He could feel his heart glowing as he saw you two laugh and grow together. 

- When Feyre was gone, you had found him in the backyard of the townhouse. He was drinking a glass of fae wine. You sat down next to him. 

“You know Feyre would call me a sap for being worried about her.” You started. 

He could almost laugh at that. It fits. “She’d also probably hit you.” 

“Oh yeah, maybe with her shoe?” He whipped his head to you. 

“She tells me everything, Rhysand.” You quirked an eyebrow. “Everything. Which is why I’m not storming into the spring court. I know what she needs to do.” 

“What?” 

“She told me about it. When it was happening.” You said. “When that bastard brought us in, she spoke in my head. Told me about it and that I needed to trust you guys. So I did.” “I’m sorry, that you three got brought into this.” 

You shrugged, “you would’ve seen me around anyway. Fey and I can’t stay away from each other. At least this way our friendship will last longer.” 

He huffed a laugh, amazed at your positivity. “I’m surprised you’re this positive about it.” 

You shrugged, “I just got her back, I’m not losing her again.” 

“Yeah. I can relate to that.” He said quietly. 

- After that night, he looked after you more. You helped out in the kitchen, you cleaned too even though you were requested not to. You can’t just sit around. You even talked to Rhysand about getting a job. 

- You two also hung out together, you either talked or just sat quietly. He found that you were one of those people that made it extremely easy to talk to you about anything. He felt safe with you immediately, which should’ve rang off more warning bells than it did. 

- You were accepting this life, because rejecting it would just result in a big spiral that you refused to go down. You’ve been down a depression rut before, you know when the signs are coming so you made yourself useful around the townhouse. 

- After Feyre came back from the Spring Court; you welcomed her again with open arms. Held her while her own sisters turned her away. 

Nesta had shoved you away because to her it seemed you were taking Feyre’s side. You weren’t. You loved all of them so much, you just wanted a bit of normalcy even though you knew it would never be normal again.

Him, Feyre and the entire Inner Circle heard that screaming match between you and Nesta. 

“And you’re acting like everything’s fine!”

“If I do not act, I will fall apart. This is our lives now. It sucks, the change fucking sucks but you know what could suck more? Feyre being dead. I know you like to act all cold and heartless because it’s some fucking defense mechanism-“

“Do not psychoanalyze me Y/N.” 

“My defense mechanism is trying to make the most out of things! I’m sorry I'm not like you Nesta; I always wish I would be. It would be a lot less painful than feeling every-fucking-thing.” 

Nesta was silent and you continued. “I love you, I would do anything to protect you, to help you. But I cannot be pulled between the three of you.”

“So you’re choosing Feyre? Acting like this is normal?”

“I am choosing me.” You said. “I am choosing to deal with things. This is my life now and I will be damned if I waste one more second on hating myself ever again.” 

Nesta had left the room, storming past the inner circle and walking out. Feyre quickly ran upstairs, her mate hot on her trail. Everyone else remained downstairs in case you didn’t want an audience. Hell, Cassian tried to pull Rhysand away from checking on you. But Rhysand had shrugged him off. 

You’d grown on Rhys quite a bit. 

When they got upstairs, Feyre crept in, “Sometimes.” You breathed, “I want to punch that bitch in the face.” 

“Y/N-” Feyre started. 

“I love her, so much, Fey. But my Gods-” You choked out. “I am just trying to keep it all together.” 

“I know.” Feyre nodded, “that’s what you do. You make sure we’re all okay, but you don’t prioritize yourself. That’s what you’ve always done, but please do not put us before you this time.” Feyre’s voice was wobbly as she turned you into her shoulder. 

That’s where you broke down, and Rhysand made himself scarce. But not before seeing that look in his mates eyes. The same look she had when she found him during his nightmare. 

The face of someone watching the love of their life break down. 

-Eventually things between you and Nesta got better, “they always do” you had reassured Rhysand when he was talking to you about it. Feyre even agreed, “things always work out with Y/N. She doesn’t let stuff be unsaid.” 

- That’s why when he started fumbling around you like a schoolgirl, he realized pretty quickly what was going on. He knew that if you got a whiff about it, it would be endless misery. Not only would he lose Feyre, his entire family would turn on him. He knew what he was feeling too. It was the same thing he felt about Feyre when he first met her, intrigue. And then, it became so much more. 

The mating bond was beginning to snap. But a trio bond? Cause he still very much was bonded to Feyre. He had never heard of a trio bond in his particular area of the world. He knew couples took on consorts or occasional thirds. He even joked about that with Fey. 

Hell, this entire inner turmoil he’s had to keep from shouting down the bond. He wants to talk to her because she’s his best friend but how do you tell your wife you think you’re also fated to be with her best friend? 

So he began countless research methods. Just wondering if it was a thing at all. Or if they were about to rewrite history. However, he found that while it wasn’t common, it did happen. So, he began a folder compiling research, putting things together to show Feyre everything he’s found. 

- Pretty soon he was able to grow a pair and tell her. He walked into their home, first he checked on his beloved son to see him sleeping in his crib. Then found Feyre in their bedroom. He walked up to Feyre too, ready to confess, when she looked at him extremely nervous. “I wanna try something.” She started. “I…I love you. So fucking much Rhys. But….I was wondering if we could add Y/N to the mix. I’ve felt this pull and I can’t explain it. And it’s really scaring me right now.” 

He felt like he was going to collapse. He then realized he didn’t say anything when Feyre started crying, “please say something.” 

“I…I’ve felt the pull too.” He held out the folder, “that’s actually what I want to talk to you about.” 

So they stayed up quite late, going over the logistics, how they still felt about each other (spoiler: disgustingly in love still), and how they would feel adding you. 

- They wanted you more than anything. 

- So, despite Feyre telling Rhysand “no my love, she’s not going to like subtle ways here. She needs direct.” He still went subtle. 

- She just let him do whatever. Even though she knew damn well you don’t like gray areas, you need point blank black and white. 

- She knew not intervening sooner would bite her in the ass, especially when you stormed into the art studio fuming. But she did enjoy the beautiful blush on your cheeks. She also found your angry eyes disgustingly attractive like she always has. 

You threw your bag over in a chair. “You need to tell your husband to stop flirting with me.” You hissed to her. 

Feyre raised a brow, “tell him yourself.” 

You looked shocked. Feyre quickly realized that this wasn’t the time for a blunt best friend role. Especially when she knew her husband had feelings for her best friend. “Fey! You can’t be okay with this!” 

She sighed, “can you just stay here, please? I’m going to get him here and we’re going to get this figured out.” 

You sighed and waited. When Rhysand came strolling in all breezy, he froze like he was terrified. “Uh, hello my two favorite beautiful ladies-”

“See!” You yelled. “He doesn’t stop.” 

“And he’s not going to.” Feyre sighed, “we have something to talk to you about.” 

She was glad she could read your face so well after all these years still. Let’s just hope there were more years of friendship, and possibly more. 

She also didn't know how to be around the bush with you. “You know the mating bond?” 

You nodded, so she continued. “Since a few months ago, both Rhys and I-” she looked at her husband. “We’ve felt…a pull to you.” 

You just stared. Rhysand continued. “The pull is the beginning of the mating bond.” Then he noticed that you weren’t reacting. 

“Why aren’t you surprised?” Rhysand asked. 

“She already knows.” Feyre said. 

You said nothing, and Feyre continued. “You knew and didn’t say anything?” 

“You didn’t say anything for a few months.” You said weakly. “When did you know?” 

“The second I came out of that cauldron. I felt it then.” 

Rhysand felt his own heart shatter, Feyre could feel her own shatter then as well. You waited years. Rhysand didn’t even wait that long knowing that it was Feyre. He waited a good six months but not years. Feyre didn’t wait at all, she jumped his bones. 

Feyre jumped back, shocked. “You knew for years? Why didn’t you-”

“What could I have said, Fey?!” You yelled. “That I’m 90 percent sure that I’m meant to be with you and your husband? Doesn’t help the fact that-” You cut yourself off, you were bordering on hysterics. 

“The fact that what?” Rhysand said softly. “You two make it horrifically easy to fall in love with you.” You said, your tears finally cresting over your waterline and flowing down your cheeks. “I tried. I tried not to. Because I didn’t know if the cauldron was just cruel and gave me two mates I could never have. I knew it was possible for people to reject their mates so I accepted I was destined for that.” 

You sniffed, “my gods, why don’t you just put me out of my misery and reject it right now. I’ll leave Velaris, I’ll leave you alone.”

Feyre was crying. “You don’t deserve to be rejected.” “Well, you wouldn't think that if you knew the thoughts I had about your literal husband but okay Fey.” 

“If you were a random woman, that’s when I’d care. But you’re you-”

“And your best friend. It’s a cliche ass trope.” You wiped your face. 

“And you are my mate!” She shouted. “You are destined to be mine, to be Rhysand’s, to be ours!” 

You looked at Rhysand, “you’ve been silent. What are you thinking?” 

“How lucky I am to have two beautiful women be mine. If you’ll have me.” He said, his voice was quiet and hoarse, as if he was terrified that if he spoke too loud, he’d spook you and you’d run. 

You let out a broken sob, Feyre and Rhysand ran to hold you. 

“We would be honored if you became our mate.” Feyre said, her forehead pressed against your temple. 

“When I first met you,” Rhys began, his chin resting on your head. His hands clasped around Feyre’s back on your left side, he was on your right. “I saw how happy you made Feyre. But then when she was gone, you kept me from losing it on…well everyone.” He admitted. 

“We had only had a few conversations.” You said. 

“Shhh, I’m confessing.” He teased, then he heard you snort a laugh. “When Feyre and you first reunited. I saw how happy she was, how she felt so safe. I vowed right then that I would protect you to keep that smile on her face. But once I got to know you, I realized I would protect you in general. You made me feel so at ease. I felt the peace that I knew Feyre must feel when she talks to you. You are strong, you are sweet, you are the most welcoming person I have met in my lifetime. You had every right to react poorly to us, instead, you took us in simply because we were with Feyre. You never looked at us like you were superior, or that we were your superior. Just equals sharing a space.” He held you two tighter. 

“You could’ve ignored us completely, or been rude. But instead, you unabashedly asked Azriel and Cassian to help you cook because if we were going to stay we had to do work.” His shoulders shook with restrained laughter. He heard Feyre giggling and even you let out a wet laugh. “I realized you were a gem too many times to count. Especially when I fell asleep on the couch and not only did I have my guard up, but you covered me with a blanket so I wouldn’t get cold. Most would’ve ignored me. Then at the meeting with the other High Lords, you snapped at Tamlin and told him to ‘shut the fuck up’ and to ‘fuck off and die’. It was a magnificent thing to witness. You didn't care that he could’ve killed you with a single strike. Which, not going to lie, kind of worries me for your health in the future.” 

All three of you laughed at that. 

“You say we are easy to fall in love with, but you have no idea how magnetic you are.” He said. “I always wanted you and Feyre closest to me, at first I thought it was because you were her best friend, and you were becoming mine. But then…then I started to fall for you. Before I felt the tug. I fell for you because of this kindness, this bravery, the strength. It’s everything to me and if you give me the chance I will spend the rest of our lives proving how I am worthy of you and Feyre. The mating bond was just a bonus.” 

You sniffled again, but he felt your arms pull from where they were wrapped around your own waist. And spoke. 

“I have a condition.”

“Name it.” Feyre whispered . 

“I get to have sex with you both at separate times and together. Basically, we fuck alone and together. I’m not doing this territorial fae bullshit if one of you is actually not okay with it. We are all equal and we can solo fuck each other.” 

Rhysand let out a loud, boisterous laugh, “that’s not what I was expecting, but absolutely.” All of you laughed again.

“I want dates too.” 

“Always.” Feyre said. 

“And gifts.” You said jokingly.

“Duh.” Rhysand said seriously. 

 But then you untangled yourself from the huddle and went to your bag that you had thrown down when you stormed into Feyre’s art studio. 

Rhysand couldn’t help the pout and Feyre whined at the loss of contact. 

You said nothing, but pulled out an orange and began peeling it. “Seriously? You’re snacking after that?” Rhysand exclaimed. 

“Rhys, wait.” Feyre said, tears in her eyes. Her hand on his arm. 

You offered it to them, “I don’t have time to prepare something right now, and frankly I’m not patient enough.”

They just stared at your open palms. “I accept.” 

- Thus the frenzy began.

[theseshipsshallsail]

For those in need of a distraction. Stay safe ❤️

PROVOCATEUR

Elio moans - much too loud for the paper-thin walls of their Morningside walk-up - and a running mantra of mine, mine, mine, echoes in Oliver’s head at the uneven gasps and hiccups that flow unchecked from his kiss-swollen lips.

“Sì, that’s it… dammi di più!” he demands, pupils blown wide as Oliver fingers his spit-slick hole. “Another, per favore! Stretch me… fill me…”

Clutching his knees, Elio opens himself further. And Oliver? He’s no stranger to following orders. Accustomed, as he is, to the impudent heathen beneath him. Truth be told, he revels in it. The bold, uninhibited way Elio rambles his inner-thoughts. How he’ll provide a ribald commentary of precisely what he wants Oliver to do, and later, precisely how good it feels whilst he actually does it. 

But he’s a force of nature, is Elio - chestnut curls strewn across the messy pillows - and a lightning-bolt thrill of excitement darts up Oliver’s spine as he slips his digits free with an obscenely wet pop. “Ready?” 

Elio grunts; a cherry-red flush extending from his hairline right down to his delightfully bare chest. “Yes, yes… put your cock in me… fuck me -”

“Christ, I love you…” Oliver groans, bringing his ruddy glans to Elio's greedy rim: craving the sublime tightness as he carefully nudges within. 

Slender legs wrap around his waist.

The kick of impatient heels saps his self-restraint. 

“Don’t stop,” Elio keens, reeling him in by the nape. 

“Never…” Oliver swears, dropping his brow to Elio’s freckled shoulder as he inches forward, claiming his fever-hot body in one, fluid glide.

Before Elio, he didn’t tend to be vocal in bed: before, that is, the myriad frustrations of a long-distance relationship funneled their filthiest desires into a steady stream of illicit phone calls. Expensive? Absolutely. But needs must when the devil drives, and after thirteen months of little alternative - not to mention the occasionallypornographic letters stowed safely in his bottom drawer - neither of them are particularly shy in holding back. 

“Look at you,” Oliver rumbles, far beyond the realms of mere arousal. “Skin like silk: mouth like sin…”

And, yes, alright, it isn't the most concise dirty talk on the planet, but wild horses couldn’t still his poetic tongue whilst buried balls-deep in Elio Perlman’s ridiculously perfect ass. It’s intoxicating - the way they fit together like Plato’s other halves - and circling his hips he licks the salty tang from his boyfriend’s sweaty clavicle; butterfly kisses soothing the residual stubble rash he’d left just earlier that morning.

“Won’t last…”

“Then don’t,”Elio pants succinctly; hands locked at the shallow dip of Oliver’s tailbone. “I want you to come,” he says, taking a pebbled nipple between his teeth. “For me… inside me… make me yours…”

Breathless, his voice grows increasingly disjointed. Hitching and stumbling over each jagged syllable. It’s enough to send him soaring - the subsequent waves of pleasure that massage his jolting length - and with a choked-off cry Oliver’s seeing stars: his entire focus narrowing to this very moment and the wondrous man in his arms; the only things that matter in this brave, new world.

“Say it,” he hears through the blood rushing in his ears. “Say it, my Elio…”

“You’re mine,” Oliver affirms, inveigling a palm between them, but from the sopping state of Elio’s belly it soon becomes apparent he’s already reached his peak.

“Pas nécessaire,” he hums; eyes closed in apparent exhaustion as he melts into the mattress, and brimming with smug satisfaction, Oliver sprawls over him in turn; lapping a stray streak of semen from his slowly bobbing Adam’s apple. 

“My beautiful boy,” he murmurs, muscles weak and twitchy. “How could there ever be anyone else but you, huh?”

Of course, the only time Elio’s not barking commands is if they’re basking in the afterglow, so rolling sideways Oliver rearranges their tangled limbs into some semblance of normality, bussing his dewy temple when all he receives is a snuffling snore in response.

[ghcstao3]

Ghost isn’t a particularly angry person, despite what some may think with the whole persona and reputation. His anger is quiet when it comes, and dispelled with reflection and time alone to decompress, so no—he’s never really angry.

But sometimes, he is. Sometimes he has no choice but to express ire, because sometimes it’s only natural for emotion to spill outward, rather than be kept inward.

And this is one of those times. One of those days where every bad thing just keeps building and building before he has time to just pause. His eventual break, he thinks he’ll come to regret at some later time, but now he can’t stop himself.

Can’t stop himself from getting angry, when Soap pulls something stupid and reckless that almost gets him killed even when it saves the most important part of a mission that had already gone to shit in every other way. Can’t stop himself when Soap is grinning as they’re finally returned to base even when he’s barely escaped death just hours before, even when he’d put himself in such danger when everyone was advising him to do anything but.

Ghost isn’t able to keep himself from grabbing Soap’s face with a gloved hand, seething, teeth grit and jaw clenched beneath his mask. Isn’t able to keep himself from clutching Soap tight as he chews him out, glaring into blue eyes that are only determined, defiant, proud. That understand what had been done wrong, but won’t admit to it, won’t believe it.

Soap just lets Ghost lecture him. Lets Ghost grip his face tighter as he gets closer, dark gaze brimming with rage and poorly concealed concern for the sergeant.

When Ghost eventually calms down, once he’s sapped of all his anger, he quickly releases Soap and steps back, apologizes quietly before doing his best to get as far away from the sergeant as possible.

Ghost berates himself internally, too in his own head to hear footsteps behind him, barely registers being coaxed to turn around by a cautious, but firm hand.

It’s Soap, of course. It couldn’t be anyone else.

Ghost opens his mouth to tell Soap to bugger off, but isn’t allowed the chance before the sergeant is engulfing him in a tight hug, away in their own secluded corner. He mumbles a muffled apology into Ghost’s shoulder—not for what he’d done, but for making Ghost worry.

And Ghost melts into him. Sags in relief in Soap’s arms, wishing to make Soap promise never to pull something like what he had again, but never speaking it aloud, knowing it’s a promise that could never be kept.

He’s not angry, no. Never has been, never truly will be. He’s just concerned—just wishes things didn’t have to be so complicated.

Thankfully, it seems now, that he has Soap to help him with that, even if the man is the cause for much of his worry.

[scuddle-bubble101]

Tell me about anyone???

(Yaaay -Bouncing up and down. its time for a random wheel spin heehee!! And random wheeeeel landed oooon~)

Wicker Basket!

Wicks is an upstanding, raised pretty old-fashioned kind of guy. Not really caring for modern tech or the latter. Middle-youngest out of four siblings; Chipper(Oldest), Basket(Second oldest) and Saps(youngest).

Wicker can be pretty short-tempered and prone to arguing lightly with his oldest brother, Chipper. He's pretty forward and solid on his opinions and well if you don't like it, well your just gonna have to get over yourself. He thinks old but he is nowhere near as old as he thinks. Don't test him on this, he will kick you and, it'll hurt. Jack rabbits do pack an awful kick. That or he'll hog-tie you and well, you might just die of shame then and there.

Shortly after arriving to Midroads either young or as a teen (Hard to say, but he claims it was when he was a little older) Wicker's passion has always been wood-carving. His brother just doesn't see it as a proper hobby and being from a mid-west plateau-like area before entering a city, he expected his brother to repeat the family ranching business through the move from Wilds to City, and got pretty disappointed when he didn't. Course, the long year of aggravation subsided and simply simmered thanks to Wick's overall bullheadedness but- You should always expect the brothers to butt heads despite it.

Solid few years of this and somehow gaining a friendship with Evris, led to an unfortunate meeting that landed him in the interest of a noot. Mayhaps a marshmallow one at that. It was request, a commission if you will that led the unlikely pair to bond but hey, no one knows who their gonna end up liking in the end. This little dance wasn't entirely easy though, and Wicker got into some decent hot water with it, bastard's lucky he loves him though.

Additional notes...

.Similar to his brother, Wicker hates being reminded of his full name. He finds it utterly ridiculous and outta have a feeling to slap someone unless they are his partner. Al will get a glare, but that's thankfully it.

.He's not big on farm like hobbies anymore... Leave that to Chipper, but he never did drop his brimmed hat, and cow whip. He use to ride horses back when he was young. His horse was a white mare by the name of; White Lills. She was a stubborn thing.

.Thick southern-mid-western accent, nothing he can do about or would even dare change on it. Everyone who teases him as like their elder will hang on a post by their toes for it.

.Despite being a chunky lad (He does love him some food) Wick's eats just fine and healthy. He's not big on junk food and still will chew at cabbage with slight twitches of his nose. (Its a rabbit thing) He likes sweets, surprisingly and to his dismay, its always marshmallowy flavoring or like fillings. A good home-made sticky bun with elder-dandelion flower honey is a good sweet spot though!

.Yes he repairs Mid-roads bridges, specifically the Docks. Yes, it always breaks and he's bound to repair it again. He's not been allowed to as of right now, Chipper AND, Alabaster would have his head.

.He's extremely family orientated, blame his familial roots. But, if you asked him would he like a big family like most rabbit families tend to lean towards, He'd call you nuts.

[moonlight-tmd]

In regards to BlitzBee in the Part-Insecticon!Bumblebee AU- (Plus some stand-alone Bee ideas)

Blitz would totally eat the honey Bee retched up. This mf eats mechs raw- he will even eat an electric cable if given a chance, of course he's gonna savor the tasty honey Bee made. And no one else is eating it so it's all for him!

If he's craving something sweet he will come begging Bee to make him some honey- sometimes when they make out Bee's intake starts leaking with nectar, which makes the kisses even more sweet and delectable.

He'd totally be the one to make bee and honey puns and watch Bee giggle and the others have this semi-uncomfortable look on their faces.

Another thing i thought about- Bee has a 2nd tank to store honey in, he gets more fat the more honey he has stored in it. Although, it's not very visible cuz of how much fluff he has.

(spoilering this part just in case- CW: spitting, kind of vomit but it's honey? feeding kink i guess??)

Ya know how some people wanna get someone to spit in their mouths? Well, Blitz is this kind of person- He loves the honey and Bee likes to provide the sweetness to his beloved.

Sometimes they lock themselves in their room and get all cozy in berth, exchanging slow and passionate kisses until Bee's other tank starts working and produces the sweet honey he can give. Blitz will sit there holding Bee close, sapping the sweet goo that's slowly coming out of Bee's intake into his.

Sometimes Bee will be playful and make Blitz lay down and kiss him gently while feeding the honey to him from the top.

Blitz could sit there for hours just enoying the meal and having his own tank filled to the brim and more, but alas, those little sessions only last for 10-20 minutes or so- Bee can only produce so much honey a day...

One time Bee has denied him honey for over a week- only for Blitz to be lost in total bliss when his sweet hummel made him sit back and gave him so much honey his tank swelled.

The honey itself is very filling and full of nutriens, it almost replaces refueling by oil- Blitz didn't have to refuel for 3 days after this glorious feast.

Anyway, i can't believe i just wrote that. I will go sit in the corner and contemplate my life choices now.

[that-one-i-think]

My MCD OC Nyx's canon backstory

He was a small baby deer in the twilight forest who was separated from his herd and parents. Starving, he went to eat and came upon a small cottage with a few berry bushes outside, so he decided to go eat.

Little did he know that Pavana, an enchantress,in that cottage, and he was exactly what she was looking for. Pavana, a woman with a love for peacocks, was trans and with no amulets or others to have a child with, and she desperately wanted one. So here comes an orphaned baby deer, and suddenly, SHE HAS A CHILD!

She took little Nyx in and using a few spells and careful use of some of her fae blood, a bit of ent sap, some lich dust, and a careful bit of minotaur tears SHE TURNED HIM HUMAN.... Sorta. Well, her grandfather's fae blood definitely gave him her family's pink eyes but everything else... not so much.

Whose to say toddlers are even human? So she raised him as her child, and Nyx was really happy! Sure, gaining sentience beyond what any of your species could ever comprehend was new, but that's just kind of how toddlers are. He got a new mom and Pavana got a little boy!

His mom then started teaching him all about magic, and with the magic coursing through his veins, it came naturally. He became an amazing sorcerer. Unfortunately, he didn't have his mothers trick for illusions, so he wasn't able to be an enchanter like her, but it still worked out. They even managed to find away to make the spell that turned him human non reversible unless concented so he was able to shift from deer to human with ease.

Unfortunately, one day while he was experimenting he got spooked by a skeleton mid transformation and got stuck as a deer centaur for a week and ripped all of his clothes. Pavana couldn't stop laughing and refused to help him turn back until he ran into a minoshroom who wouldn't stop hitting on him.

When he was 19, he used his magic to try and stop the spread of Liches and the reign of monsters in the Twilight Forest. He managed to keep them in check for years before what felt like an explosion of magical force ran through the world, caused by what could have only been someone ripping a dimension open. Then what he thought he had undercontrol suddenly became unmanageable, and Ur-Ghasts and Hydra and every other monster were popping up left and right. Liches, older and more powerful than what Nyx had ever dealt with came to life, bringing with them not the normal zombies but red husks of people. Shadow Knight corpses.

Worst of all, some of the Liches escaped the forest and Nyx knew that he had to follow. While magic is strong in the Twilight Forest, it is unstoppable against normal people. On the hunt of a Lich, he runs into a village brimming with magical folk, Phoenix Drop. Deciding to rest for a few days, he gets to a tavern where he gets caught turning bronze coins gold by one blue haired guard.

Small adage: When Nyx is 19 Pavana tells him to find his own wizard tower and goes "Finally! You are grown and I can live in peace!" Even though she chose to have him. They both know she is joking and he visits when he can and so does she. Pavana will never die.

Nyx does end up converting a massive magical redwood tree into his home. He hollows out the inside and uses the wood to create all of the furniture. He does make sure that the tree will continue living with the help of a few nymphs and dryads that use his house as shelter on the occasion.

[hanayori89]

🪶🪶🪶Lesson: 16 Music and Memories🪶🪶🪶

"Strip."

Surprise! On the contrary, this wasn't a dream but reality, as Link called out to you, his head bobbing above the water's surface, blue eyes brimming with mischief.

It was a scene that reminded you of a bygone memory, one of you and Link as rambunctious children on Skyloft.

Except floating before you wasn't a boy but a full-grown man.

First came off the tunic and then came his pants. Soon he was standing in front of you in nothing more than boxer briefs, oblivious to the current of embarrassment coursing through you faster than the lake's own current.

"Y/N? Why are you behaving so oddly? You're acting like you did when you saw Fi pop out of my sword."

You didn't have it in you to tell Link it was easier to stomach a phantom girl living inside of his sword than the morsel of a man he had become.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. He was Link. Your childhood friend and eventual rival of the knighthood. Zelda's crush. And perhaps, she his. Old Y/N would lie and say this didn't bother her, that she didn't care.

But with the sunlight piercing through the groves of leaves, filtering his frosted blonde hair that was damp against his flesh and contouring every muscle with a hint of bronze, you did care.

How you yearned for the days when you disliked him.

Because whatever this feeling was, it was something way more frightening than envy or ire; no, it was something you thought might be love and that could lay ruin to a human heart faster than any other emotion you could name.

Now Link bobbed with the lapping water, waiting for you to disrobe and join him.

You and your muscled abs that dropped down to the slightest pouch of fat because you enjoyed eating a little more than you cared to admit.

Zelda was dainty. Fragile. A woman built to be protected. A dandelion that people loved to look at as they passed by, always careful that their actions weren't a breath that could blow her away.

But you were built to protect. With arms stronger than the bamboo in Eagus's dojo, meant to strike and be stricken.

You turned around, attempting to be demure as you slid your tunic off over your head. But it was hard to be discreet when you felt a pair of eyes burning into your back.

You barked from over your shoulder. "Pervert. Stop watching me."

"Y/N, we grew up together; you're being ridiculous."

Something about his insouciance provoked you into a grumbling reaction. Did he not realize you were a woman? You weren't Zelda; you would never be. But your body and feelings shouldn't have been dismissed any less than the goddess herself. With strong hands on your hips, you turned around and defended. "Yes, Link, we grew. I am a woman now! In case you haven't noticed!"

But one look at Link, and it appeared he did notice. A little too closely, in fact. Like a bird stuck in some tree sap, his eyes were glued to the flimsy nude-colored bra housing the generous protruding buds coming from your chest.

"Link!" You bellowed.

With an overheated face, he dunked his head underwater and erupted upward, cooling himself off. "Ummm, uhhh... sorry. I'll just be floating behind the tree when you're ready." Once he was out of sight, you pulled down your trousers and added it to the pile of discarded clothing.

Why am I doing this? I should just tell him about what Gaepora said. What does it matter now when I'm clearly never going to be able to return home? And then there's Ghirahim...

You shivered at the thought of his name. Wondering if somewhere, even right in front of you, he was watching you and Link. Waiting for the right time to strike. And what better time than when you were both indecently clad?

You paddled your way over to the other side of the tree to see Link drifting with his eyes closed.

A conveniently fallen pinecone floated by your side, coaxing you to hurl it at him and laugh as it ricocheted off his forehead.

"OW!" Link splashed upright, rubbing the spot where it had walloped him.

"Are you ready to start?" He snarled.

"Am I ready to win, you mean?" You dipped your wide grin beneath the water so that Link couldn't see it sprawled over your face.

"Awfully smug, aren't we?"

"Well, you want to talk about how we grew up together, but you always fail to mention who taught you to swim. To fight. To not get caught napping during class."

Link swam toward you. "Just because I don't mention those things doesn't mean I don't remember them, Y/N. I think of them often. Especially now."

He shook his head, as if shaking away a memory. "Anyway, here are the rules. The tadpoles come in different colors. Your goal is to herd them into their appropriate chorus. Whoever herds them first wins."

"How will we know who does it first? And will they stay together within their chorus?"

"When they come together as a chorus, they make music. Hence their group etymology."

"Music? How is that possible? The surface sure is a strange place." You questioned in astonishment.

Link suppressed a small chuckle. "And you've only seen maybe 2% of it. The tadpoles are able to oxidize bubbles beneath the lake's surface. This process causes a sort of "chiming" sound that mimics an instrument. When they all do this together, it forms something of a song."

You still didn't understand what Link was saying. You may have had a hard time accepting him as the better swordsman, but you gladly would accept him as the better scientist.

"Now then, on the count of three..." Link held up his hand, "1...2..."

But, as per your normal modus operandi, you dove beneath the surface of the lake, ignoring him.

"Y/N!" He huffed as he dove after you.

If you thought the surface was a mystifying place, it was nothing compared to the world beneath it. Beguiling, hard-shelled spiders scurried among the sandy lake's floor; you watched as it disappeared beneath a murky cloud hovering above shiny green floss strands that mimicked grass. Beside you passed a school of fish.

Now you at least knew what fish were thanks to your textbook about the surface and its habitat, but you weren't very based on the surface's general ecology, let alone its marine biology.

There were so many kinds of fish. Hundreds. Some with rainbow scales that glittered, and others with scales of dull metal that blended in with the muddy subterranean you and Link now glided through.

You felt a gentle tap on your shoulder; you turned to see Link, his finger pointing at what you assumed was a tadpole, its long tail flowing behind it as you also noticed two webbed feet projecting it forward. The tadpole shimmered gold, much like Sava's feathers, and you knew this was Link telling you that this was your "assigned" color.

He twirled past you, going toward another tadpole, splashed with patches of crimson.

Ah, clever Link. You smiled to yourself.

You made your way toward the sun, ready for a burst of some oxygen. On your way upward, you spotted a golden tadpole hiding beneath a lily pad. You lifted your head upward, taking a deep breath before submerging again and gently cupping the tadpole in your hand to bring it to the other one Link had pointed out.

As you kicked your way down a bit deeper, you spotted another one.

Some time passed, and you found yourself less pressed about winning and realized you were having fun.

That was until you looked over to see Link had already gathered 10.

You had 7.

Panic began to set in as you realized you needed to beat Link. You didn't want to tell him that you were in fact eavesdropping, because then it would lead to who he was talking about to his Loft wing.

And you didn't want to know who unless it was you.

No. You had to win.

You found a trench that went deeper toward the lake's bottom; you eagerly spun toward it.

Until you felt a hand grab your ankle. You turned to see Link holding it, keeping you away from the deep trough. You kicked his hand away, assuming it was merely a prank.

You continued toward the ditch, not bothering to turn around and see Link's widened eyes of terror.

You spotted a golden tail beneath a deep water log suspended in the trench. You felt your lungs begin to burn, urging you to act fast to take a breath again. Your leg and arm muscles began to throb from wrestling against the constant pressure of the water's strength.

You grabbed the log, hoping the water would aid in lifting it just enough to reach the tadpole. What you didn't realize is that you were actually aiding in releasing a powerful geyser that the log had plugged up.

Link returned; only this time he wrapped his arms around your waist and held you, as the log became just loose enough for the hydrothermal vent to release and propel you both out of the lake.

Your mouth shot open in protest, but Link's hand covered it as you both went flying and broke through the surface of the water.

Everything had happened so fast. You found Link lying on top of you on the grass. The sound of the log thudding on another piece of land not too far from where you both were.

You coughed, feeling some water trickle from your lips. Link must have blocked your mouth just in time before you inhaled any water.

Above you was Link; between strained coughs, he whispered, "Careful... there... are... geysers."

You reached your hand behind him, gently patting his back as he coughed. His forehead crashed against yours as he slowly found a peaceful breathing pace once again.

"I'm sorry, Link. I didn't know..."

He lifted his head, shaking it slightly as he met your eyes. His body is still on top of yours, caging it against the ground with his weight. "That's the thing. You don't know what it's like down here. No matter how strong you are, there's always danger lurking here. You always taught me knowledge is just as strong as power, and no matter how strong you are, you don't possess the knowledge of the surface and all of the perils that come with exploring it."

It was cemented in that moment that you could definitely not tell Link about Ghirahim.

"It's nice to know some of what I taught you stayed with you." You must have hit your head because all you could think about in that moment was how you wanted to reach your hand up to caress his cheek.

"Just because I'm a hero, Y/N, doesn't mean you ever stopped being mine." As if reading your thoughts, his hand jutted upward, and he stroked some of the wet strands of hair from your forehead. The texture of his fingers were slightly pruned from the long time you both spent in the water.

"Eagus always told me the mark of a good teacher, of a leader, is to teach those beneath them to surpass them. To be better. Instead of embodying that, I was threatened by you Link. I always saw your potential. I always knew you were destined for greatness I could never reach."

You laughed bitterly. "But we are the same age. We have always been peers. Why did you always venerate me? Why did you always look up to me? And now you're the one constantly saving my hide."

"I think you have it all mistaken Y/N. I don't think it was ever about being better than me, and more so about being with me..." Droplets of water fell from his face as it hovered above yours and you were certain if it hit your cheeks, it would create steam.

What is he saying? The hand that removed a rogue strand of your wet hair remained on your skin, and you remembered then that both of you were half naked.

Link. Was on top of you. And both of you were almost naked.

Thank God we aren't on Skyloft. I couldn't imagine if someone saw us...

Except there was someone who could still see you.

And it was in the form of a startled Groose standing over you both, his jaw grazing the soil as he exclaimed. "LINK?! Y/N?!"

Just as quick as shock set in, so did perversity.

"Just wait until everyone on Skyloft hears about this."

EDITED:2/18/25

[valentinablackhand]

So hey I finally finished that story, I hope people enjoy it. Be mindful that I am NOT a writer but I'm proud of this story. THIS CONTENT IS MATURE, CONTAINS GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, DEATH, CHILD LOSS, AND GORE

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙ ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　 ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Background information on the future reading material

Hello! This is going to be some background on why I’m writing this, what inspired me, and how this is going to be portrayed. For starters, this is going to be a sort of fan fiction/character origin story prior to the events of Baldur’s Gate 3, a game inspired by D&D with roleplaying aspects and turn-based fighting. The character I am writing about is Theresa “Onyx'' Blackhand. Onyx hails from the colder northern region, Icewind Dale. She lived in a small rural area called Aneira with her adoptive brother, Tanith, and her mother, Eulalie. The year is 1490, two years before the events of Baulder’s Gate 3, and it is set in the height of winter, a rather awful blizzard is running its course through the town and our adventurer is going to see the apex of nature's wrath. This story is going to be told in the eyes of our main character, of course.

Some background on me, the writer (who isn’t the best at writing). My name is Ava but I go by Valentina online and I am an artist and dungeon master! D&D has inspired a lot of what I do and the media/games I play, and in general, has changed my life for the betterment of my creativity. The Baldur’s Gate community has given me so many amazing artists, writers, and players to be inspired by, not to mention the writers and actors who are in the game itself. I wouldn’t be where I am today without the inspiration of others, friends, and partners who encouraged me to pursue my passions of the fantasy and D&D worlds I’ve created. This is a test and dedication to the many more worlds, characters, and friends I’ll make along the way through shared interests. I thank you, dear reader, for taking the time to read my rambling and indulge in one of my favorite characters I have come up with, background, gameplay, and story wise. 

Winter, 1490; A Warm Welcome

Howling, freezing wind cuts through me like a blade, cutting right through the layers of wool and hide I wear out in this tundra. My face is burning, hair covered in a thick coating of ice, sticking to my scalp and face like tree sap.

“Is this the clearing Tanith was talking about? This is awfully deep in these woods…” I said to myself, wondering how he could navigate through this storm. This winter has been worse than in seventy years, he shouldn’t be outside now anyways. Mother is getting worried sick about him. This is the third time this week I’ve had to dig him out of trouble, little wriggly worm he is. “Tanith? Tanith! Where are you? It’s too late to be outside, the storm gets worse at night!” I yelled out into the clearing, but my words were quickly snuffed out by the wind once again. Just as I was about to give up and find help, torch light shines through the clearing, Tanith standing there with that slimy grin on his face.

“I knew you would find me! Now c’mon, there’s something I want to show you!” he shouts as he darts off into the tundra again. I chase after him despite my skeleton shaking in this cold. Why is winter so brutal this year? Mother and Tanith have been acting strangely as of late. My heart is racing, where is he leading me? We finally stop running as we reach the top of a cliff, surprisingly high above the city below. The lights are mesmerizing, staring down into the flurry of snow and ice almost seems magical beneath the tons of houses and factories brimming with life. 

“You know, I’m glad you dragged me out here. This is a wonderful sight to see” saying as I grab him into a side hug, holding him tightly for warmth and security. 

“You really need to stop going out at odd hours of the night, Mother is getting worried sick about your habits as of late”

“I know she is but I’m restless! Being inside all day is no fun, and I can’t see friends through all of this snow! I can’t wait for winter to end” Tanith says in an unhappy huff, burying his face into my coat. There’s a certain unease in the air tonight when the wind stops blowing, it slowly wraps my heart in black tendrils and brings sweat to my brow. 

“I know, I can’t either. Say, how about we go back home now? There’s still some sweet rolls left over.”

“There are? You didn’t eat them all?” 

“Not yet!” I say, darting off in the direction we came, Tanith close behind. He passes me in just a few strides, the speedy bastard. He has always been fast, no matter if he’s carrying heavy wood or our mountain of a dog. We finally reach the back door of our cabin and burst in, letting out a sigh of relief as we feel the warmth of the fire seeping throughout the house. Mother is sitting by the fire, we startled her by bursting into the door unannounced.

“There you two are, I was getting worried sick! You look positively dreadful Theresa, sit by the fire.” Mother says, wrapping a wool shawl over my shoulders and gesturing towards the large wooden chair. Tanith joins me shortly, bringing a tray of sweet rolls with him. His eyes are glistening but something is missing, his usual spark of joy is no longer there. There’s something he isn’t telling me.

A dreadful proposal

We all retired for the night but I can’t sleep, my head is spinning and my heart is racing. Were the sweet rolls bad? Was I out in the cold too long? I can’t be sure, but time is at a standstill and I am tossing like mad. Minutes felt like hours but before I knew it, our front door swung open. Mother and Tanith weren’t awake, so it must have been the wind. I got up in a dizzying state and stumbled out of my room to close the door when I saw this man standing in the door frame, almost filling it out, the light from the fire making his features positively grim. His stature was sunken although he was built to the nines, his face looked like a husk of a man, his arms, big and dead, like a once mighty oak tree taken by rot and decay. Is this man undead?

He stood in pure silence as he took a step into my home, halfway to me already with his long stride, and stopped mere inches from me. I can see the whites of his eyes, or what would be white if they weren’t bloodshot and glassy. Finally seeing his face in the light, he was covered in blood. I tried to gain my composure quickly and grab something, anything, to hit him with, but he grabbed me by the shoulders and knocked me out cold. The next few hours I would fade in and out of consciousness, seeing snow pass underneath me, then cobble, finally back to snow. I have no idea where I’m going. I’m worried about my family. What has he done to them? Are they even alive? My head is pulsing with pain and heat, a roaring heat as if I were in the depths of Avernus. We were going uphill on rocky terrain, the dense wood of a carriage underneath me hits my bones with each bump like stone.

After almost a day had passed, I awoke in a chair, bound at my wrists and my ankles tied to each leg. Why am I receiving this punishment? Did I see something I wasn’t supposed to see looking over that cliff? I let the memory flood my mind and I couldn’t see anything but snow blowing across my vision and the twinkling of the lanterns below. Looking around the room, it’s more like a cell. A singular bed roll laid in a dark corner, a wash basin, and an old door, about to fall off its hinges if it took a single blow. The air is rather humid, thick with the smell of iron and wet stone. I look at my restraints and they seem simple to break out of, too simple, in fact. Just as I try to move towards a wall, someone walks into the cell. It’s the same man as before, but now I can see his face. Dirty brown hair, gray eyes that hold no glint of light in them, and a rather large nose, badly patched up after a break. His face screams a hard, tortured life. 

Before I know it, he strides over and unties my restraints, grabs my arm tightly, and makes me stand. I tried to land a blow with my other arm, but he grabbed my fist in an instant.

“Who are you?! What have you done with my family?” I shouted, looking over this shell of a man. His body ached and creaked like an old house, and I can see the outline of his muscle and bone on every part of exposed skin.

“Mustn't talk, the Lord is waiting” he said with a deep voice, almost vibrating the air around him. There was something otherworldly about him. Is this the work of a necromancer? “He needs to see you. Your family is waiting.” he leans in, and whispers ever so softly “I don’t want to have to hurt you again, the Lord is making me hunt others for his game of cat and mouse.” His eyes finally have life to them, wet pearls of sadness and regret. His breath smelled of rot, his hair was as stiff as straw. How many others did he bring to this “Lord” he spoke of? What is going to happen to me? 

With my arm still held by this undead husk, we walked a short distance to an audience hall. Decorated lavishly with gold and marble, red carpets, dark wooden chairs and tables, and statues of hardly clothed men and women, all eyeing a chair in the center of the room. I see them, my family, finally after what felt like an eternity. The stranger lets my arm free and I rush over to where they stand, clinging onto both my brother and mother so tight.

“Tanith… Aneira, I never thought I would see you again, where are we?” I glance above Mother’s head and see the snow building up through an unreasonably large window. The day is bright, almost blinding against the snow. I’m in familiar territory, thankfully.

“Theresa I hadn’t a clue where you were! I awoke to such an awful sound when those men came in and grabbed Tanith and I. My heart felt like it was leaping out of my chest. At least we have you now, my love.” she said, tears welling up in her eyes. Just as this sweet moment couldn’t get any better, the double doors at the end of the audience room open, creaking and moaning with every movement. 

“Ahh, these are our most esteemed guests then, hm? I was expecting more… hardened looking people for being a family of lumberjacks, afterall. My name is Lord Ransley, it is a pleasure to meet you." The man spoke, confident, dominant, and radiant. He was eyeing me curiously, looking for something within my appearance that I hadn’t a clue what he wanted to see. He carried a tome on his hip, lined in gold and the cover had a yawning mouth with a purple gem shoved into the center. This has to be the necromancer of the house, and apparently the Lord as well. Looking around again, the unseen halves of the statues were all bone and muscle remnants, real muscle and bone. The room stunk of decay and humid bodies. “You are rather extraordinary, you know? A half-elf with such muscle definition, tall stature, and eyes that hold the world within them…” Ransley says again, walking around me like a curious dog, grazing his hand over my biceps and back. I shift away from his touch, feeling a rush of cold go down my spine. He grabs a lock of my hair and shudders, as if he’s enjoying himself, pleasuring himself to my physique. 

“What exactly are you looking for in me, your lordship,” I said harshly “and why knock out and kidnap my family, bring them to an unknown house, and gawk at them? Is this for your own sick pleasure?” I spat, locking eyes with this short statured freak.

“Ohh, feisty are we? Fret not, my large friend, I will answer your questions after you answer one of mine. Then you and your family will be able to go back home and live your lives as they were.”

He paces around me, studying my figure until he gets right in front of me and asks “Your father had something of mine that he stole, and gave it to you. That large steel amulet you wear, it belongs to me. I know what power it contains, and I know that you can’t live without it. How does having cold lungs feel, little love? If you give me back that necklace, I may just help you with your affliction, but if not… Well, your family is not going anywhere.” Little Love. The nickname dad gave to me. Hearing the words was like a sharp puncture in my diaphragm. 

How does he know about my lungs? I’ve had this affliction ever since I was young, I caught a cold and since then I have had an icy cold breath that can freeze anything it touches. This amulet is the one thing that keeps me able to keep breathing without freezing the world around me. I can’t risk letting this go, even if it is Ransley’s. I have to figure out a way out of this house with my family. Ransley slips a hand to my neck and pulls the necklace out from under my collar, eyeing it lovingly. His breath is hot on my skin as he puts his lips to my ear and whispers “We can accomplish so much together, little love.”

“You want me to give up the thing that makes me able to breathe normally? Do you want your house to be in icy ruin?” I say, my anger rising with each touch and word he says.

“No, my dear, it would be a shame to see my lovely home go down. Are you really not going to give me back my possessions?” he says, taking a stride towards my family “Pity… I thought you would be smarter than this.” He walks up to Tanith, who is as white as snow, and puts a hand under his chin, studying his features.

“If you have a quarrel with me, then keep me here. My family doesn’t need to be a part of this. They never were in the first place.”

Aneira and Tanith are humans, they have lived only a fraction of the life I have lived. They deserve to live their lives to the fullest, I fear that Ransley is planning something drastic.

“Fine, if you will not give me that amulet, I will take it off of your corpse. You will make a fine addition to the many beautiful faces I have in my war room” he says, as he turns away to grab a sword displayed on a plaque behind a large chair. He touches the blade, running his fingers along the edge in ecstacy, as if he’s going to enjoy hurting me. Looking around the room, there are two guards. Easy targets, they aren’t as strong as me and they can barely hold the hammers they’re equipped with I think to myself. How are Aneira and Tanith going to escape? The double doors Ransley had previously pranced through is the only way out. I give each of them a shove. “Aneira, Tanith, run!!” I shout at them, darting for the hammer a guard is equipped with, knocking him on the floor with one shoulder charge. He falls to the floor, the flesh under his armor breaks off in chunks and his bones shatter once they hit the ground. More undead. Turning to face Ransley, he is running towards me, sword pointed towards me. I thrust my hammer and knock his sword off its course, and take a swing at him. I hear bones crack, it hits, by the Gods it hits. 

After he gets his footing again, he steadies his gaze towards me, preparing for a swing. I brace and block his first blow, his arm going limp at his side. From his other sleeve, he pulls out a dagger and slices across my shoulder, a deep cut that would take a while to heal. I wince out in pain and his eyes light up like a fire. What a sick, twisted freak. With a one armed swing, I knock the dagger out of his hand and strike another blow quickly with my hammer. Something is welling up in my chest. It’s warm and radiant, I feel strength ebbing out of me.

“Listen to me, Lord, I have no clue why my father stole this amulet from you, but you aren’t getting it back. You threatened my family and my life, you have no right to hurt my family. I will end you swiftly and painfully, for you have no say in my fate!” I say, and as the words roll off my tongue, the hammer I wield is basked in a radiant light. Power. I feel power flowing through me, a divine power. Who granted me this power matters not, at this moment I have my opponent under my grip. Ransley’s arm is limp at his side, he still wields his sword in the other. He lunges at me, swinging his sword from above, I block with the handle of my hammer. Even with one arm, he is still rather strong. Taking a good look at his physique, he himself is partially undead, he has great strength but each blow he takes, he weakens. I fling him off with a side swipe and take a swing at his back, hitting his tailbone and knocking him on the floor. With one hand, I sit him forward and drop my hammer. Taking swings at him, my fists get coated in crimson. His breathing is shallow and slow, I drop him back on the floor with a loud thud and pick up the hammer. My breaths are short and icy, the coldness in my lungs is unbearable. Looking down at Ransley, I broke his nose and jaw pretty good. He won’t be standing up any time soon. His breathing is gargled and mashed, his windpipe must be broken. I need to let him suffer a slow death, choking on his blood and bile until his last breath exits his lips. 

After leaving the audience hall and taking a look around, I find Lord Ransley’s room. In my search, I found his personal journal which reads “Barnes stole the Amulet of Curse Binding from me and gave it to his sick, weak daughter. Pathetic. If she is too weak to shake an illness, she is too weak to live. I will find him one way or another, our deal isn’t finished.” Deal? What deal had my father made? Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter now. I don’t suspect that Ransley will recover from a crushed windpipe. Flipping through the journal, another entry catches my attention. “I don’t know how much longer I can stand, my bones are brittle and weak. My flesh is starting to fall off of me. Myrkul needs to hear his servant, to provide his blessing unto me.”I shudder at the thought of being an undead, having no control of the decay of your physical form while you remain conscious sounds like the ninth circle of Avernus. As I put the journal in my pack, that blinding light illuminates my vision again. A woman in white robes, with even whiter hair, stands before me. 

“Child of light, I am the spirit Evangeline. You show great power in judgment and vengeance. I have imbued you with the divine power I once had. I propose an oath to you, an Oath of Vengeance, avenge those who have fallen to dark powers and dark people, cast out evil from this world in my name and spirit, oh divine vessel. Your hammer is your oath, and your divine being is my spirit. This is my word.” 

She disappeared as soon as the last word was uttered from her mouth. Was this my purpose now? To purge the blights of evil from this world? I bolted out of the room and my head started spinning. I was too enthralled in a fight and forgot where my family had gone. Rushing through the seemingly endless halls of this house, I found more guards and the mysterious man who kidnapped us all waiting for me at the exit, my family lying on the floor. They peered up at me with glossy eyes, pleading for me to go and leave them to the guards. The mystery man tilted his head up and gave me a nod and after, he whips a sword out of his coat and stabs the guard on his left until he collapses to the ground. I take a stride and aim at the next guard rushing towards me, striking true to his jaw. It snaps in an awful, bone chilling sound and he kneels, screaming in blood coated words. With one hand, I take Tanith and the man takes Aneira.

We rush through the doors and the wind chill strikes all of us, a familiar and welcome feeling to that of the house of Ransley. Outside was still bone chilling, but it wasn’t the uneasy feeling inside that overly decorated audience hall. 

“Onyx, what happened? Why does he want your amulet? What deal was that man talking about?” Tanith said, giving me a scared look. Something about his gaze is telling, like he knows what’s about to happen.

“I don’t know, but you remember why I wear it, right?”

“Yes, it keeps the cold away from you” he said, his face easing into a soft smile, but his eyes lack any reflection. What in the hells had they done to him in the time I wasn’t there to protect him? To protect Aneira?

I take a look at Aneira and she is as white as a sheet, her eyes fixated on me. I can’t see her breath in the air, is she breathing? I let go of Tanith and grabbed her, shaking her. “Aneira? Aneira! Listen to me! Are you alright, can you hear me?”I screamed, shaking her shoulders. Her eyes are still fixated where I was standing, she’s as cold as a corpse. I look at the undead man, and he looks just the same. Snapping back at Tanith, he is starting to freeze. “Tanith! Please, no! What is happening to everyone?!” I scream, looking back at the door to see a blood stained and cripled Ransley, holding a staff covered in arctic shards. Rage is overflowing again, seeing my family frozen to the ground, my second chance at raising a child has flown out the window. I won’t let him get away with killing what I love.

“You see, Onyx, this is what happens when you don’t give me what I’m rightfully owed!” he screams, waving the staff in a circular motion with his one good arm, bringing in more snow and cold. He is surrounded in an undead green light, the work of the God of Death. I should have broken both arms. I dart out of the blast radius before he unleashes a winter like I’ve never seen. One look back where my family stood and they were gone, frozen to the land they stood on. Aneira, Tanith, and this man who helped me without even knowing who I was. Gone. A rage like no other fills my senses as I take a look at the scrawny man in the doorway, ready to cast another spell. Hammer in hand, I run over screaming and jump, hammer overhead and ready to strike down on his head. As the hit lands, divine light shines and I see the whites of his eyes gleam one last time before his skull is split in two, mashed beyond recognition. I keep whaling on him, beating his skull in until it’s a mashed pile of bone, flesh, and blood.

I fall to the ground, crying so hard that I can’t see. My tears cling to my face as they freeze in this awful weather. How did this all happen so fast? How can I go home now, with so many memories of raising Tanith and aiding Aneira through her remaining years? The remaining hope I had for a family is now gone, frozen, and it hurts like no other pain I’ve felt before. I stare at Ransley’s corpse, wondering how he found me in the first place. The staff he wields even in death, it’s cold to the touch but brimming with the Weave. It’s a very powerful item, and I’m taking it as a reminder. A heirloom of a necromancer, the undead prick who stole my life in one day.

I’m coming home

I stayed at the Ransley estate for two days after the incident, seeking and searching for who he was and why he wanted this Amulet. I found out that Evangeline was his wife, who he murdered for his own sick and twisted pleasure. He logged his thoughts after he pleasured himself to her corpse, but he never turned her into one of his thralls. She was only, what seemed to be, in her early twenties from the pictures I found that weren’t torn to shreds. In the basement of this house was where she was kept, and still remains. Her hair as white as snow and she was dressed in white robes, as I saw her in my divine vision. The ground outside is too hard to dig for a grave, so I fashioned a small circle out of wood and carved a prayer into it. Wrapping her in a burlap cloth and laying her on her back, I placed the prayer on her and took a moment of silence. I did this for those outside as well, since I can’t give them a proper burial yet. These last two days have been rather gruesome and depressing, but I need to press on. I need to go home and set out on the quest Evangeline gave me to purge the world of evil. 

I take what rations of food I can find, some clothing and furs as well, and set off back to the cabin. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too far away from this estate. I didn’t even need to make camp and I made it back by dusk. The door was still swung open from when the undead man opened it last, the common area full of snow. My mind still wanders, what was it that Tanith was hiding? Throughout the whole ordeal, he was a husk of his normal, happy self. I may never know now, now that Ransley and his guards took away that young boy who I almost considered my son. My son? He might as well have been, I was there from the moment he emerged into this world from his late mother, who I never learned of other than when she was in labor with him. Aneira, the lady of this cabin, a seamstress who took care of me when I had no place to go after father died, is a frozen corpse. She took me in and treated me like one of her own, even though her own had already gone and made lives for themselves. Oh gods, if I ever run into them, how can I tell them of her fate?

I shut the door, its hinges almost froze over in my absence. Heading to the upper portion of the cabin, I feel that grip in my chest that I felt before. This isn’t some bad dream where I’ll wake up and they will be downstairs, making a fire and telling stories. I peer into my old room, everything is just as I left it. The furs along my bed still shifted off, the small shelf filled with books and trinkets I collected out in the dense forest. I grab a few sentimental belongings, books, and more furs and stuff them into my pack. Was this the only reason I had come here? I walked my way over to Tanith’s room, his room is in pristine condition. He had always been very neat, so it’s no surprise to me. His clothes are in a neat pile on a dresser, so small. He was barely twelve years old. I searched his room, trying to keep things as they were when he left them. I found a note stashed away in a book on dreams and premonitions. When had he gotten this? He usually only read memoirs on nature and animals, he wasn’t spiritual. Well, at least I thought so. I unfold the note and it’s addressed to me. Me? How? I begin reading his sloppy handwriting, and I get my answer. He knew how he was going to end, Aneira, too. He knew I would have been given the gifts of a Paladin from Evangeline. He wrote an excerpt on how this amulet protects me from cold spells, curses of the winter, and the inability to slip on icy surfaces. “I don’t understand how, but the amulet that you wear is filled with magic from a lady with white hair who keeps me safe at night. She isn’t a goddess or a human, something in between? I think so. Well, Barnes had stolen the amulet from someone named Ransley when he found the lady with white hair stowed away in the basement. The amulet has some of her power stored in it and whoever wears it will have their sickness or weaknesses taken away. There was someone who took care of her, a tall man named Marcus. She doesn’t talk about him much, but he has gray eyes. If you’re worried about me, I’ll be with Evangeline, so I’ll still be around! I love you, Mom”

Mom. He called me mom. Fighting tears isn’t possible anymore, they stream down my face as I clutch the note in my hand. This amulet has been imbued with the power of a demigod, Evangeline. She was a demigod? Ransley had kidnapped her and made her his wife. The undead man finally has a name, Marcus. I wish I had known this sooner, or else I would have carved that into his prayer. Tanith had been visited by Evangeline many nights before we had been taken away, he told her about the events that unfolded two days ago, and that he wasn’t going to make it. No wonder he hadn’t been himself, he knew his time had come. Marcus had been a caretaker to Evangeline, and that’s why she was locked away until she perished. He had also stood up to Ransley and failed, he got turned into his own personal thrall. Ransley’s staff has the power to dominate minds in a simple flick of the wrist. I wish I had known sooner, I wish I had known what Tanith was told. I could have turned the tides in our favor, maybe even saved everyone and just killed Ransley. He was never deserving of the title of Lord anyhow, he had servants through mind control and a very strong essence of undead power through Myrkul. 

I fold the letter closed and clutch it to my chest, trying to stifle back more tears. Things could have been different if I had been awake earlier, if I had heard Aneira and Tanith walk downstairs to investigate the noises of Marcus breaking in. All of his life, I told him I was his sister. I never wanted to form an attachment like I did to my child, although she never lived long enough to see the light of day. It seems that him and I both grew that attachment towards each other, but reading “mom” at the end of that letter let's me know that I did my best for him.  What’s done is done now, I can no longer regret the past. I set down the book, and turn away from his room. Walking outside again after grabbing materials and rations, I take one last look at the cabin door, pressing my hand onto the jagged wood. As my fingertips leave the wood, I turn and make my way to Baldur’s Gate city. Neverwinter is closer, but there’s more promise for me in the great gate. This is it, this is my destiny. This is the thing I had been longing for my whole life. A purpose with true direction, no longer am I just riding the waves of fate.

Five months later

I’ve made it to Rivington, a small area just outside of the Lower City. I finally made it out of the cold and harsh winter I used to live in. The warmth of this area is unfamiliar, the many layers I wear are beginning to be too warm. I have to figure out a place to stay. 

After venturing a bit outside of Rivington, I found an abandoned shed. I set my pack down and make preparations for the night, which rolls in quickly. There’s a ladder propped up on the side of the shed and I climb up it. The stars shine bright tonight. Taking a look around, I spot the area of the cursed Shadow Lands, which fell to be that way over one hundred years ago. It gives me chills to even think of what lies in the depths of those lands. Turning away, I lay down on the roof of the shed and drift off to sleep. The city is just ahead, all I have to do is make my way there before I have no strength to do so. I can start anew, a new life and a new purpose. May my dreams take me to where I belong. 

Dawn is slow to come, the sunrise coats the land in a lush light. The green of the grass, the smell of fresh bread and fried fish is in the air already. I make my way to the pass into the Lower City and get a pass through the Flaming Fist guards, giant mechanical beings called Steel Watchers patrol the gate and surrounding streets. Everywhere is very heavily guarded, something I’m really not used to seeing. The loudness of people talking, merchants shouting, and businesses bustling with music and conversation alike was almost too overwhelming. Shifting through crowds and guards, I make my way into Wyrm’s Crossing’s tower. A man named Lord Enver Gortash resides in the upper levels apparently. The word “Lord” still doesn’t sit right with me. 

After many hours of talking and bartering with guards, I gained a pass into the Lower City where I am appointed as a body to the courthouse judges during trials. Court hearings vary in length, but by night I try to catch criminals and assassins who stalk the streets, waiting for someone unarmed to strike at. I interrogated one of the assassins I captured and found out he was an assassin of Bhaal before I sent him into a coma and threw him into the sewer. There’s a Bhaal cult around here? If so, I will do my best to inform the Flaming Fists and the city watch alike. Over the next few months, I was a personal bodyguard to the courthouse during the day, gaining my own personal set of armor and a hammer with the symbol I chose for Evangeline, whose presence I can still feel around me like a warm hug. I am adorned with silver and black plate armor, paired with chainmail underneath. During my time in the Lower City, my heartache to be in nature grew. I missed the vast lushness of trees, seeing a pair of white foxes chase each other in the snow and pounce at one another. Finding a remote spot in the forest in spring time and taking a short swim in a lake nearby the cabin, the warm breeze flowing through my hair. The city lacked any sort of bucolic surroundings, maybe a bush here and there. It felt like a cage, but with open air and no bars. After some time, I was able to afford my own place. A small apartment near the courthouse, where I raised plants and kept small creatures who would wander into my home. I may just like this life I have, even if I don’t have what I once cherished. Something inside of me is saying that this is only the beginning of a long journey ahead.

A year from now

Things were as good as ever, a decent week at court thankfully and I found a new cat to take care of, who I named Apricot since she was the same color as one. I was cooking her a fish when I heard citizens screaming, and the thunderous roar of something in the sky. I rushed out of my balcony door to see a giant ship with tentacles and a shell hovering over the city. What in the gods name is this? I thought to myself. I put Apricot in a safe space under my bed and threw on my armor. I gave her some pets goodbye and ran out of my apartment. I was directing citizens to a safe house when another one of those living ships appeared right above the street I was standing on. The tentacles rained down and anyone who had been touched by them evaporated into them. I had to get more out of here, I had to save more citizens from an untimely death.

 Just as the thought flew into my mind, I felt the slimy touch of the tentacle across my mouth. I blinked and I was on the ship. I had to be. So were so many Baldur’s Gate citizens. A strange looking woman with green skin was trying to break out of her binds when a large tentacled freak held up its hand and put her to sleep. Mind flayers. By the Gods, a mind flayer ship? I had only heard of them in books and tall tales, I had no idea they were actually real. The mind flayer levitated towards me and held out his hand, I had gone unconscious. In my dreams, I saw my old fireplace, crackling and filling the living room with warmth. Tanith and Aneira, sitting in their chairs, beckoning me to sit by the fire. I couldn’t move, I had no control over my body. As the sweet moment filled my senses, it quickly faded away. The room imploded and snow and ice shards swirled around the two people I adored. I tried to scream, but no sound came out of my aching lungs, only more ice and snow. I snapped my head upward to see Ransley’s face looming over me, his smug smile decaying like the rest of his features. His eyes pierced right through me, as if he was trying to intimidate my soul.

 As soon as I was put to sleep, I was awake. Days had passed. No, weeks? I couldn’t tell. My stomach ached, I needed to eat, I was in a cold sweat. I looked around with what little room I had, the strange woman was still asleep in her pod across from me. The same mind flayer from before was looming over a large, fleshy basin full of an acidic smelling liquid. He pulled a worm-like thing from the basin and levitated over to the strange woman, holding his hand out so she would stare directly at the worm. It latched onto her face and snuck right into her eyeball. Oh Gods, is he going to put one in me next? Just as the thought occurs, he is back to fishing out another worm. Or maybe they were tadpoles? He picks out another one and locks eyes with me, its eyes orange and radiating malice. As he is floating towards me, I try to turn my head away, only to have it snap into place with the flick of its wrist. The tadpole screeched with a psionic power that hurt the innermost parts of my mind, and secured itself into my orbital socket. I slip into unconsciousness again. My new life, taken from me once again. Who was going to take care of Apricot? Who is going to keep the streets safe at night? I need to figure out how to get off this ship and go back to Baldur’s Gate.

[phoenix-writez]

I deadass forgot about this tumblr account LMAOOO

HI YEAH YALL ON TUMBLR ARE WAAAAYYY BEHIND

SORRY I'LL FIX THAT

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

Entry #3

[CUBFAN]

I'm drenched in some weird black substance, and I can see eyes peering out of the walls.

I had just recently jumped down after revealing a hole in the ground, deciding that chaos truly was an answer that needed calling. Of course, I don't actually know where I'm headed.

But, man, who needs to figure that out? I have a sense that where I'm headed is full to the brim with anger. That just gets me going.

After walking through sludge and eye soup, I find a button. Normally, I wouldn't really press just any button out in the open. But this felt like it needed to happen.

So I pressed it. It opened a large door, kinda felt sci-fi. I slid to the wall, hiding behind the doorway that coincidentally hid me perfectly. I looked inside the room, there were two people chatting up a storm.

“You have no idea what's happening down here, do you?!”

The voice sounded like a woman, but I don't assume. The other voice sounded almost like a gremlin, but with a deep and intimidating voice. That I didn't actually care for, because I've heard worse from Tango.

“Oh, Shrub… you're naïve. Theatre of course is an act, but they all act like children.” The other one said.

Shrub, I guess, began shouting. “They are children! A bunch of teenagers trapped inside of this time capsule! Xornoth, for the gods' sakes, you're so aggravating!”

Xornoth snickered with a sinister hiss of breath as he leaned down towards the mushroom lady, “I am? Awh, a shame.” He pat her on the head, “I pity you. Stuck here with no idea on anything. There, there, little one. I'll be here to save you in your time of need.”

Shrub frowned, she glared at the ground. “No… you've controlled my life far too much already, Xornoth. I can't let you just save me just because I'm stuck in the basement of a maze.”

My eyes widened and I guess I forgot to be quiet, as I quickly gasped and slammed myself back onto the wall so I could be well hidden. Xornoth slammed his hand onto Shrub’s mouth. “Did you bring someone here?!”

Her expression was wild, as she tried to shake her head in refute. She muffled an attempted shout and Xornoth grumbled under his breath, lifting his hand from her face. “NO!” Shrub yelled.

She took a deep breath and veered towards the doorway. “There's no one here. You probably heard wind, or maybe someone else is in this stupid maze trying to get out. Who knows?! There's so many people in this damned building!”

“Damned is not the word I would use.”

“Of course! You'd use perfection! This building is extravagant to you! The best thing that could ever even exist in your plane of life!” Shrub held herself, her fingers tightening on her arms as her face scrunched up with every shout she made.

Xornoth couldn't help but laugh, he began walking away. I heard it, the stomping of his boots against the wooden floorboards. It had been headed away from me, I finally let out my breath.

Arguing fuels me, my mother is the god of chaos and strife after all. But this argument felt oddly draining, like all of my energy was being sapped away as they spoke. I sat down and tried not to be seen.

Of course, that failed.

As the mushroom lady herself hung around the hallway, then marched towards the door. Towards me.

She leaned on the doorway, hands grasping the walls like she was depending on it to keep her steady so the wind didn't blow her away.

She was rather petite, I looked up at this mushroom lady and immediately was frightened. When I said mushroom lady, I didn't exactly mean she had fungus growing in her hair. I saw a mushroom cap on her head, but I assumed it was a funky little hat, and she even wore an outfit that fit her cottagecore yet definitely-lives-in-a-cave aesthetic.

“I almost didn't notice you here,” Shrub smiled nervously. “Nice, uh, glasses, I think? Is that how you talk to people?”

“Weren't you just talking to someone?” I tilted my head as she began laughing. Quickly, she sat next to me and spoke so gently, “That man I just spoke to is Xornoth, I have no idea where he'd come from, or what he's doing here. I'm sorry you heard all of that, or if you don't understand half of what we said.”

“Exactly what do you think I don't understand?”

“The… time stuff? About this place?”

The corner of my lips lifted, only one though. It's a smirk, I never realized I had to explain one before. I snickered and leaned back, “I came here to assist in breaking an important group out of this place. Unfortunately, only one made it through. I'm fully aware this place is one giant time and space continuum joke. I have no idea what's causing it.”

Shrub fidgeted around with her hands. I watched as grass grew from the floorboards, flowers even began to sprout from the wood. She smiled, “Will you call me crazy if I talked about gods?”

“Would you call me crazy if I said I was the son of one?”

Shrub’s eyes widened and her whole body whipped around towards me. I've never seen a smile so bright and innocent before, it made me feel a little guilty. After all, I'd just eavesdropped on an argument.

“NO WAY!” She shouted, “I'm the daughter of Ceres!”

I paused, “Ceres? Like…”

“Oh you know, some Roman god.” Shrub’s hand flapped and went limp, as if she were shoving her words away because they meant nothing. “What about you?!”

“Uh, Eris.”

—

I think I began losing track of time around thirty minutes within that maze. We walked around for so long, avoided Xornoth like the plague, and trapped ourselves in dead ends.

Shrub whined for a while, I guess the mushrooms in her body began to hurt. Because at one point, I glanced at her to figure out the issue and I found a fungus digging its way through her skin.

We made it to a hallway that was splattered in reds, greens, and blues. I scratched the back of my head and stifled a giggle. “Looks like some computer artwork failed here.”

“Computer…” Shrub thought for a moment, “Wait, Cub!” She grabbed me by the shoulder. I turned towards her, “Yeah?”

“Vulcan!”

“...Please speak in terms we can both understand.” My brows lower as I suck air through my teeth, “I can't exactly, y'know, translate Latin to Greek in three seconds.”

“Vulcan is literally Hephaestus! Don't be dumb!” Shrub groaned. “Oh, buddy, if you wanna see dumb, you should see my friends back at camp. Especially the Hermes cabin, good lords.” I look away, back at the RGB modern art on the walls.

“If we're gonna theorize Hephaestus, the best we can do is figure out what this was made for.” I waltzed around, taking samples of the paint and anything I could find.

Shrub shivered, “You think this was just sheer pettiness on his part?”

“Of course it was, everything he does is petty. Should've been the god of being petty, but all the gods are.” I tapped on the walls and felt a pressure change immediately. “Uh,”

“WE'RE FALLING!!” Shrub held onto the nearest thing. Unfortunately, that was me. And we fell faster, because I'm no parachute.

—

We woke up in a ditch, and there we saw him. Laying on his side, my eyes widened in fear and surprise. “Who is that?” Shrub whispered. “Are they dead?”

I got up and walked towards him, poking him. “Cub! What are you doing?!” Shrub stood up.

“...Impulse? I thought you left with the rest of them. What's going on? Why are you…” I looked to my right. A wrench, I picked it up quickly and stared at Impulse. “Your gift is here, buddy. What's going on?”

I pulled him to where he now laid on his back. His lips were covered in fuzz and blood, and his head was a mess. I looked back at the wrench and found blood sticking to it, “This is hours old. Probably days.” I dropped it.

“Cub, what's going on here?” Shrub walked towards me, the concern living on her face along with all the dread.

I sighed, “Remember how you brought up Vulcan?”

“Yeah…?”

“Impulse is his son. Not Vulcan’s, but Hephaestus’ son,” I turn to look at her. “He brought us here for a reason. He told us to find Impulse.”

Shrub got lost in thought, I watched as she peered down at the floor once again. The floor this time was concrete, dry and painful to even step on. She seemed to count the lost pebbles that mixed in with the concrete. Her eyes closed.

“The fate of machine will be washed away by hands that prey on the day.”

“...Hey, I heard that prophecy.” I frowned. “Just before I got here.”

“So did I.” Shrub sat down next to Impulse, “Prey on the day…?”

“Is there some type of Apollo kid here?” I looked around, “Don't see one.”

“I'm the closest we have to day. I'm the feast… the farm, the crops, the nature.” Shrub planted her face on her hands. I glared down at Impulse. “We'll find the answer soon enough, I think I know who's doing the preying.”

Impulse never moved from his spot.

I didn't know if he was ever gonna move again.

[southwestern-witchery]

Wandlore: Tamarix ramosissima, AKA: Tamarisk, or Salt Cedar.

The science:

The Tamarisk, also called the Salt Cedar, is a shrubby, red barked tree native to some parts of Eurasia and Northern Africa. Tamarisk is known for sapping salt up from any water source near it into the soil around it, as its one of the only plants capable of surviving and thriving under those conditions. In the spring, it blooms a magenta, almost lilac pink in many places.

The Tamarisk tree was introduced to the Colorado River Basin in the late 1800s in an effort to stop soil erosion and keep trails clean. Unfortunately, the Tamarisk tree is Rhizomous, which means it can spread underground as well as through seed, and cuttings or fallen limbs from the tree can also root themselves. Accompanied by its tendency to increase the PH of the soil it lands in, the Tamarisk tree became a rapid menace to the southwestern ecosystem.

Because of this, if you take a river raft down the Colorado you are more than likely going to see hundreds or thousands of these trees along the banks. Places where native Cottonwoods or Willows would normally be are filled to the brim with salty earth and red tamarisk trees.

Luckily, there is a small glimmer of hope. The tamarisk beetle, a small golden yellow weevil, no bigger than the head of a pin, eats exclusively tamarisk trees. Careful introduction of the tamarisk beetle to these trees has begun to curb their expanse. Unfortunately, there are still precious few plants that can survive the salty soil the trees leave in their wake, and the thousands of dead trees alongside the river feel an awful lot like walking through a Grove of ghosts.

Ethnobotany and Mythology:

The tamarisk tree has a vast and ancient set of mythological and religious symbolism behind it. In its native range, the tamarisk tree has long been connected to death and rebirth through the story of Osiris's death in Egyptian paganism. When Osiris is killed, his body is hidden inside the trunk of a massive tamarisk tree, for Isis to find and revive.

This connection to hidden things is also noteworthy, as in the Iliad, Odysseus and diomedes hide some of their spoils from the war inside a Tamarisk. In another Greek myth, a young woman or girl is turned into a Tamarisk tree, along with her siblings. However, it should be noted that many diffrent women, girls, nymphs and goddesses turn into trees, plants and shrubs in mythology, and they are often mixed with each other at one point or another.

In abrahamic religions, many characters are said to gain important knowlage under tamarisk trees ( such as the ever present abraham) or have been buried underneath them (Samuel)

In Islam, they take on a more spiteful turn, as Allah converts the gardens of the saba people to Tamarisk and bitter fruits as punishment.

In the southwest, where they have taken root, they symbolize that same sort of spite as well as a stubbornness for life.

In both their native and invasive ranges, the tamarisk tree is used for making sturdy and durable goods. Things like furniture, wagon wheels, and boxes. The wood itself is beautiful, if occasionally difficult to work with. Medicinally, the tree has been used in traditional practices to treat digestive issues, gut problems, diabetes and dental issues to varying degrees of success. It has also been used in soaking and purifying baths well into ancient times, as its mentioned that gilgamesh's mother took a bath in a Tamarisk soak before sending her son and his partner on their quest.

The magic

Taking all of these sources into account, it's safe to say that the tamarisk tree would have a very specific arcane niche to fill: stubbornness, secrets, and toxicity. The protective aspects of the tree are numerous of course, but often come in unexpected ways. Wands or other foci made with Tamarisk would likely do an average job with standard protective magics, but astonishingly well at protecting those who are already dead, or secrets that one would wish to hide for eternity. These Foci will aslo do an excellent job with purifying Charms and intense purification rituals, perhaps even exorcism if done correctly.

It should also be noted that the high salt content of the Tamarisk tree is two fold: it will aid in its protectiveness, of course, but it may also be a sign that the owner of the foci in question may drive others away in their personal lives. They will be steadfast and stubborn, and good at what they set themselves to task over, but God's forbid they form a true lasting relationship with anyone who isn't exactly like them. This may present itself as a mild sort of closed mindedness at best, or outright hatred of others at worst. They may be xenophobic, religious zealots, or even simply abrasive. This isn't to say every person who possesses a tamarisk foci is an asshole in this way, but it would be fair to say they are more likely to hold their own opinions in the highest regard before any other.

These will be the people who work very hard at what they do, but never really make any real connections. The people you meet who will gruffly get the job done, but demand solitude or like minded individuals in order to work at all.

Let it be known that these individuals, no matter how strong they appear to be, will have at least one glaring weakness to them, and they may be extremely suseptable to failure if they confront it. Due to their stubbornness, this could very well be their downfall if they refuse help.

These foci will pair best with others who have connections to Tamarisk, and will likely pair worst with those who have willow, cottonwood, fruit tree, or other stereotypically sweet or less hardy woods.

[grandphantomfury]

SAP FICO Training in Coimbatore - A Gateway to a Successful Career

Introduction to the SAP FICO Training in Coimbatore

SAP FICO is one of the most sought-after modules in the SAP ERP system. Organizations have relied on the module to manage their financial transactions and reporting. The demand for SAP FICO professionals is thus increasing with the increasing adoption of SAP across various industries. With a career in finance and accounting, SAP FICO training in Coimbatore offers one of the best opportunities to gain expertise in such fields.

SAP training in Coimbatore is made better with its good educational infrastructure and the rapidly growing IT sector. There are several reputed institutes throughout the city that offer in-depth SAP FICO training in Coimbatore; thus, students and working professionals will be able to gain the necessary skills and expertise to stand out in their respective careers.

Why Choose SAP FICO Training in Coimbatore?

There are numerous benefits due to which students should opt for SAP FICO training in Coimbatore. The city houses training centers poised to provide the best training, including practical experiences and industry-relevant course content. Training in Coimbatore is quite economical as compared to metropolitan cities while following high standards of education. Therefore, many training institutes offer placement assistance to facilitate candidates to draw a concise contract with leading IT and finance companies. The programs provide a project-based learning approach to real-time activities and the SAP ERP application. Trainers with good academic and industry backgrounds ensure students receive practical and theoretical training.

Highlights of SAP FICO Training Curriculum

Well-facilitated SAP FICO training in Coimbatore has a strong focus on financial and controlling units of the SAP ERP system. Training is imparted regarding Financial Accounting (FI) modules, including General Ledger Accounting, Accounts Payable, Accounts Receivable, and Bank Accounting. The Controlling (CO) module includes training in Cost Center Accounting, Profit Center Accounting, Internal Orders, and Profitability Analysis. Also included in the syllabus would be taxation and compliance processes, SAP FICO integration with other modules, as well as case studies and projects in real-time.

Benefits of Taking Up SAP FICO Training in Coimbatore

Upon the completion of the SAP FICO training in Coimbatore, candidates are almost ensured a brimming career. Courses prepare candidates for certification exams and propel students toward more job prospects. Some opportunities are available for SAP FICO professionals in industries like banking, manufacturing, healthcare, and sell-er. Hands-on training gives reports so candidates may combine theoretical and practical knowledge situated-outside. The type of jobs available for these professionals includes SAP FICO consultants, financial analysts, ERP managers, and taxation experts. With more and more organizations adopting SAP, day by day, mechanical SAP FICO specialists shall be secured with stability and prospects.

Career Opportunities After SAP FICO Training

SAP FICO training in Coimbatore opens a treasure chest of innumerable opportunities once graduate. An SAP FICO Consultant implements and maintains SAP financial systems. Financial Analysts use SAP FICO for analyzing financial reports and business performance. ERP Managers will oversee the integration and optimization of SAP financial systems throughout the organization. Taxation Specialists will calculate SAP FICO taxes and manage compliance. Some countries are searching for talented SAP FICO professionals to benefit the local economy and employ SAP FICO expertise with good salary packages and promotions in their careers.

How to Choose the Best SAP FICO Training Institute in Coimbatore?

When selecting a training institute for SAP FICO training in Coimbatore, one must consider a few things. The institute must have very experienced and certified trainers who have industry-relevant hands-on experience. A well-written course structure covering both the theory and practical aspects is very vital. If an institute offers real-time access to the SAP system and project-based learning, it ensures good training. Placement support and tie-ups with big companies will guarantee jobs. It is always good to check student reviews and ratings for further evaluation of the institute's credibility.

Final Thoughts

With an increase in demand for SAP FICO professionals in the finance and IT sectors, getting SAP FICO training in Coimbatore has come to be a strategic move toward a successful career. With a good training setup, trained instructors, and industry links, Coimbatore, is the best place for SAP programs. Freshers looking for a career start or working professionals willing to upgrade skills have a route to big opportunities through SAP FICO Training.

So, fulfill your dream of becoming a successful professional with SAP FICO training in Coimbatore. Get enrolled today and get an edge in this world of enterprise financial management.

[richandrich-blog]

Shadow Sisters Part III: The Mission Unfolds

1. Luiiloviie stood on the rooftop, the vibrancy of the city beneath her a stark contrast to the darkness that had consumed her for centuries. The neon lights of the streets below flickered, casting an otherworldly glow on her sinister figure as she gazed out into the night. Her sharp eyes scanned the horizon, taking in the sights and sounds of the city she had vowed to protect. 2. As a member of The Mission, a secretive society, Luiiloviie was dedicated to maintaining the balance between their mssions and the supernatural realm, Luiiloviie had always prided herself on her skills. But tonight, she was uneasy. 

3. As the foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach grew stronger, Luiiloviie knew she had to act. She decided to set up at the  stakeout area. Hours turned into long, restless minutes as she blended with the shadows, her senses heightened as she waited for any sign of trouble. 

4. Then, as the clock struck midnight, it happened. A figure emerged from the shadows, her presence ghostly and ethereal. Luiiloviie's heart raced as she recognized the woman , from last night.  This was the catalyst, the moment that would set Luiiloviie on a collision course with the unknown, a threat that could unravel everything she held dear. How did she produce that door?

5. Luiiloviie thought she had the upper hand as she followed the the woman, the chill of the night air seeping into her bones. But just as she closed in on her target, the woman disappeared into thin air, leaving Luiiloviie alone and frustrated. The dead ends and false trails only heightened her desperation, pushing her to the brink of madness.

6.  In a moment of reckoning, The woman may be a necromancer, a cunning and powerful adversary, seemed to anticipate Luiiloviie's every move. She knew Luiiloviie was ther at every turn. The city itself seemed to turn against Luiiloviie, its once-familiar streets now brimming with malevolent energy that sapped Luiiloviie's strength and resolve.

7. The necromancer cornered Luiiloviie in a decrepit alley, her dark laughter echoing off the walls like a death knell. With a wave of her hand, she unleashed a wave of dark energy that sent Luiiloviie crashing to the ground.

8. As Luiiloviie lay on the ground bruised she said to the woman, I saw you last night,  at an assignment that I had, and you left all of that carnage. 

9. As Luiiloviie lay on the ground bruised she said to the woman, I saw you last night,  at an assignment that I had, and you left all of that carnage. 

10.  Luiiloviie was done with the shenanigans so she let her Vampiric nature speak for her and change her. She roared Why?

11. With a renewed sense of purpose, Luiiloviie squared her shoulders and stepped into the abyss, ready to face whatever horrors awaited her.

12. Luiiloviie and Conchita are standing in the same woods again, because each felt the woods would tell them more about each other without direct questioning.  

13. Luiiloviie and Conchita both ferocious women necromancer and vampire, were standing in the same woods again, because each felt the woods would tell them more about each other without direct questioning.  

14. Conchita  Amazonian heritage ethereal ghost answered and told Luiiloviie the vampireYes, I saw that you appeared to bewatching me deep in the woods with binoculars as you were laying in a prone position, are you with "The Mission?" 

15. A close-up of Luiiloviie's face. Her brow is furrowed in thought, eyes slightly narrowed, with a single sweat bead visible.

16.  Luiiloviie's vampiric full body. as she takes a step back with one foot, body tense with surprise, arms slightly extending to her sides, eyes widened. "How do you know about the"The Mission?" 

17. Luiiloviie's vampiric body language and agitation were enough confirmation for Conchita, and her Amazonian heritage caused her ethereal form to dissappear quickly through door she created with smoke.

18.  Conchita is sitting on the edge of a bed in a dimly lit room. She's hunched over, elbows on her knees, with a hand gripping her hair. Her eyes are wide and her brow is furrowed, showing worry. The room is sparsely furnished, suggesting a temporary or covert location.

19. The scene goes back to a wider shot of the dimly lit room, but this time Conchita ferocious Amazonian heritage is pacing back and forth, hands clasped behind her back. She looks agitated and restless. Through the window behind her, we see a sliver of the red blood moon. 

20.  Conchita has stopped pacing in the moonlit room and is now looking directly ahead. Her expression is one of focused, simmering anger, with a sharp glint in her eye. Her hands are now clenched into fists

21. A flashback panel, styled as a memory. It shows Conchita in the woods from the previous night, a blurred image of a figure hidden amongst the trees (the woman) in the background. Conchita is a darker, more shadowed silhouette in the foreground, with a weapon in her hand.

[small-business-payroll-greer6]

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[kassandras-one-braincell]

ugh when is it my turn to have an irl kassandra i would do anything for her .

anyways what kinds of clothing styles, jobs, or just general day-to-day life (like their houses) do you think modern!kassie/eivor/soma would have?

Pssh, it's not like I've given this any extensive thought in the past or anything... That would be weird... Who would do that haha

I would let's go

Kassandra dresses like a dad who lost his passport in Tenerife on holiday and has been stuck cycling between the same 4 hawaiian shirts since three Tuesdays ago, but owns a few casual suits for work.

She's a historian and museum curator. Specialises in the history of weaponry, occasionally giving guest lectures on ancient swords at universities. Mention any type of weapon and she will not be able to stop herself from rambling about its evolution over the centuries.

Has a pottery wheel. You know that scene from Ghost (1990)? Yeah. Very reliable with the ladies.

Ikaros is her pet eagle, do not ask her how she manages to get him pet insurance because she may have lied about his species.

She has a vegetable garden (her pride and joy, this might as well be her child with how well she takes care of it) and a briki to make coffee with. Kassie always starts her day off with freshly brewed coffee the traditional Greek way, some bread and some fruit, which she always plates too much of because Ikaros likes to steal it.

She's a great cook.

Dozens of books on old weapons are dotted about her home and some (so many. so fucking many holy shit) model replicas because she's a fucking nerd.

You cannot turn a corner inside her home without seeing at least three family photos. Family includes Myrrine, Alexios, Barnabas, Herodotos, Markos, Alkibiades and Phoibe. Nikolaos is in prison for trying to yeet his stepchildren off a cliff.

Phoibe is her goddaughter who calls her "auntie" and Auntie Kass absolutely gives her the world.

━━━( ͡ಠ ͜ʖ ͡ಠ)━━━

Eivor serves lumberjack realness. Flannels, cargo pants, work jeans, yes she has a tool belt, yes she looks a damn treat in it. All she's missing is the hard hat and the protective visor. The axe is in her workshop.

She wears glasses. This isn't up for debate.

Tattoo artist by trade and has a degree in literature. Her love for poetry knows no bounds. She specialises in black and grey realism and her pieces are breathtaking.

Speaking of poetry, her colleagues bully her mercilessly for being a "big old sap". She has fancy paper to write her poems up on, and a wax sealing kit for handwritten letters. She's old fashioned like that.

Technology is a demon she would rather not trifle with. 100% complains about the need for there to be an app for everything, but she does appreciate video calls so she can see her people.

As a hobby, she pursues woodworking and blacksmithing, sometimes selling her creations. She'd make the engagement ring she proposes to you with herself

Dwolfg (or Chewy, or Mouse) Nali and Dandelion Puff are all beloved members of her household. The neighbours' kids named them all; sometimes she babysits Knud and Sylvi, and of course Eira has to tag along.

Her fridge is full of boring meal prep (you better wife her up and cook for her) but her pantry? Brimming with baking supplies. Ma'am loves to bake. Sure, she eats a lot of grrr protein big strong macro gym buzzword meals, but she loves bread and cake. Big muscles but she likes to eat, so she isn't lean, I'm gonna stop before this gets unreasonably gay

━━━( ͡ಠ ͜ʖ ͡ಠ)━━━

Soma, look, this is gonna be specific, but there's foundations for this in game (her metric fuck ton of rugs in the longhouse). She evidently likes fancy things. Her modern!AU occupation: owner and ceo of a sustainable luxury jewellery brand. Recycled metals, gemstones that are sourced/synthesised sustainably, everything is ethically manufactured and her employees are paid well.

She's from humble beginnings, so she does loads for charity and really enjoys quiet domesticated tasks.

Waistcoats and tie when she's attending businessy things, simple t-shirt or jumper and joggers when working from home. Outside, she wears a few rings that she designed.

Not a particularly great cook, but she's a mean pastry chef. She has a massive sweet tooth. Loves to start her mornings with a homemade croissant and a cappuccino.

There is a post-it note above her desk to reminder her to straighten her posture because she tends to sit like a fucking goblin.

Her home is pretty eclectic, which takes people by surprise given her organised manner. Lots of blankets strewn over the couch, lots of knickknacks she collected over the years, some sentimental ones from Lif and some ruder ones from Birna. A few sketchbooks are scattered about with designs for work.

She has a record player and an ungodly collection of country vinyls. It's okay. Nobody's perfect. It's what makes her human.

Also needs to wear glasses, but wears contacts usually because she insists the specs make her look "old", oblivious to the distant sounds of feral lesbian screaming whenever she puts them on.