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#and I'm sure it will only get exponentially worse from here
bosbas · 4 months
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Chapter 13: it's never too late to come back to my side
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pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.2k words
Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, mutual pining, some swearing
Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.
A/N: ahhhh we're getting close to the end i'm so emotional i love them so dearly
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August 15, 1814 - It has come to this author's attention that Mr Benedict Bridgerton will be in attendance at Aubrey Hall this year in time for his family's country house party. This comes after almost two months away in the countryside. Will Mr Bridgerton be shocked to find out that his best friend and his older brother have been courting while he was away? Or has he been kept up to date on the ton's happenings, perhaps by this very column? The lucky guests at Aubrey Hall will find out for themselves in a few days, and the remaining members of the ton in London will surely find out through Lady Whistledown's society papers in the coming week.
"Benedict it's been three days. You have to come downstairs at some point," groaned Hyacinth. She was tired of watching her older brother mope around aimlessly, refusing to participate in any Bridgerton-Beaumont activities.
Knowing bits and pieces of what had happened between you and Benedict, Hyacinth was inclined to leave him to rot in his room forever, completely unsympathetic to his low mood. However, she couldn't help but notice your eyes searching every room you entered, looking for your best friend, only to visibly slump your shoulders when you realized that Benedict had once again failed to show up. So, after three days of watching your disappointment grow exponentially, Hyacinth had taken matters into her own hands. Except for the fact that Benedict was not particularly enthusiastic about Hyacinth's efforts, lying on his bed with a half-open book on his abdomen as he rolled his eyes at his sister.
"Go away. I'm not going to play Pall Mall, just leave me alone," he responded, laying an arm over his eyes.
Hyacinth scoffed in response. "I'm not here to ask if you want to play Pall Mall, brother. If I were, you wouldn't have a choice. Not that you have much choice now, anyway."
Then, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him as hard as her eleven-year-old strength allowed, she tried to make him see sense. "Y/N is even more miserable than you are because you won't even come down for dinner. I don't care that you're the one who upset her in the first place, she wants to see you!"
Seeing Benedict move his arm away from his eyes and give her a questioning look, Hyacinth sighed, exasperated. "Yes, I know about that. Which is how I know you're making it worse by staying cooped up in your room while she's downstairs with no one to talk to."
"She can just talk to Anthony," shot back Benedict, knowing it was a weak argument even before the words came out of his mouth.
Hyacinth did all she could to hold back from screaming at her brother, who was being exceedingly petulant. "You are such an idiot that it's hard to imagine how you lead a semi-normal life," she settled for saying, knowing she would get a lecture if she used any stronger language.
Benedict rolled his eyes, but his gaze shot over to his bedroom door when he heard hushed voices just outside whispering fiercely.
"Yes?" he snapped, loud enough that the voices ceased talking. The door creaked open and a very sheepish-looking Theo and Bastian popped their heads in, stumbling into the room unceremoniously.
After slapping Bastian on the shoulder, only a tad aggressively, Theo cleared his throat. "Ah, excuse our entrance."
"We're here to talk to you about Y/N, obviously, but it seems Hyacinth has beat us to it," finished Bastian, scratching the back of his head.
Benedict grumbled some expletives that were most definitely not appropriate for Hyacinth's ears at the prospect of two of your brothers, and the most athletic ones at that, giving him grief for the way things had played out between the two of you. He was already nursing a piercing heartache and the insurmountable guilt of having ruined his chances at being with you by an ill-timed attempt at a kiss, and he most certainly did not need half of your siblings making him feel worse about it. Having Hyacinth in your corner, and therefore against him, was difficult enough.
"Well, go on then," Ben relented, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible so he could go back to wallowing in his sorrows. Perhaps his intense heartbreak would lead to some magnificent inspiration for his next piece, and he could find comfort in the fact that his art would be massively successful, even if he couldn't have you. A poor consolation prize, but a consolation prize nonetheless.
Bastian looked at Hyacinth pensively, assessing how crude he was going to be with such a young girl present to hear what he was saying. He knew she had probably heard it all before, given that she grew up with four older brothers nearby, but Bastian was hesitant to be the direct cause of any colorful language the youngest Bridgerton might employ. Deciding the benefits of being as direct as possible outweighed the possible lecture he would receive, Bastian spoke quickly, "We just think you're being a fucking idiot."
"Sebastian!" exclaimed Theo, hitting him on the shoulder again and ignoring that Hyacinth was currently dissolving into a fit of giggles. "What he means to say is that we think you're being rather foolish. Though the strength of Bastian's words do communicate how we feel about this, foul as they were."
"Why, thank you. I was sick with worry wondering what your opinion on my relationship with my best friend was," retorted Benedict, not able to help his sarcastic tone even though he knew your brothers were not the best people to provoke right at this minute.
"Don't forget your best friend is our younger sister, so I do imagine we're allowed an opinion," replied Bastian, wanting to keep Benedict in place.
Theo, the more level-headed of the twins, looked at Ben with what could have been construed as a look of sympathy if it weren't also laced with unimaginable anger. "We're quite serious, Benedict. We know what happened a few days ago in your studio. Why can't you just talk to her?"
Benedict sat up and put his head in his hands, rather sick of having everyone know his business. "How on earth does everyone know what happened?"
Theo and Bastian exchanged a glance, unsure whether they should reveal their source. But Hyacinth saved them from an explanation. Quite matter-of-factly, she explained, "Eloise overheard your argument pretty much in its entirety. And, of course, she told everyone. Though I'm sure the twins have heard some bits and pieces from Y/N herself, and perhaps Anthony, too."
Seeing Benedict look from Hyacinth to Bastian to Theo in disbelief, loathing that it was nearly impossible to keep a secret from his family, Bastian commented, "Perhaps if Francesca had been the one to overhear we wouldn't have known so much. But all the better for us that Eloise, quite inexplicably, knows absolutely everything about everyone."
Shaking his head, Benedict accepted the current predicament he was in. "Right, then. I'll have to remember to thank Eloise for allowing me to have this wonderful conversation the next time I see her. Regardless, this makes it easier to tell you that I can't 'just talk to her,' Theo. I can't act like nothing happened."
Bastian immediately rolled his eyes upon hearing Benedict's excuse. "It's truly a wonder your friendship with her has lasted so long. Of course she wants to hear from you! She always wants to hear from you. Even when she's upset with you."
"It's all she ever talks about, usually. How long until she can see you and talk to you about whatever trivial matter she wishes to spend hours talking about," added Theo, hoping to remind Benedict that you needed him. Twenty years of being best friends meant that you needed Ben even when the two of you were fighting. Especially when you were fighting, actually, since Benedict was the only person who knew how to properly console you when you were upset.
"They're not trivial matters," said Benedict defensively. He loved hearing you talk on and on about whatever plot hole was plaguing you, and he found it rather interesting, too, but now was not the time to get into that particular point. "Anyway, that doesn't resolve the issue. It doesn't matter if I talk to her or not, she still doesn't love me back. And I have been doing a splendid job so far of trying to get over her before she marries my brother, so if you could very kindly allow me to continue to do so, I would greatly appreciate it," he finished curtly.
Hyacinth scoffed, in disbelief at her brother's blindness. "She doesn't 'not love you back,' you big baby! I'm eleven years old, I shouldn't be the one telling you to grow up!"
"Hyacinth, stop it. That's unusually cruel, even for you," protested Benedict, feeling an almost physical pain at the impossible possibility that you might love him back after what happened in his studio. He had considered the possibility incessantly in his mind the past few days, of course. But to hear someone else say it, to hear the words spoken so clearly by someone else rather than hearing it in his internal monologue or seeing it written down in his sloppy handwriting in letters he had never sent, was enough to make him feel nauseous.
Up until fairly recently, his love for you had been quite manageable. Even unnoticeable, at least to him, for the first few years. However, now he was quite pointedly aware that every time his heartbeat faltered it was undoubtedly due to you, whether you had laughed in a particularly adorable way or worn a gown that made your figure look quite irresistible. And he had lost any chance he had with you because he was too overcome by his desire to be by your side in a more-than-friendly way and had had awful timing in attempting to kiss you. So, yes, Hyacinth was being quite cruel in his eyes. Even if the cruelty was warranted, seeing how you looked as distraught as he felt.
"I do believe Hyacinth is right," Theo spoke, causing the youngest Bridgerton to beam, radiant, beside him, contrasting Ben's positively ghastly expression. "Y/N has loved you for years. It's been painfully obvious to the rest of us, but apparently, you're too thick to notice."
Bastian piped in to agree with his brother. "Precisely. So we're spelling it out for you. She does love you back, you just decided to confess your love for her at an inopportune moment. If Eloise's memory serves her correctly," which earned him a snicker from Hyacinth, "Y/N never said she didn't love you back."
Theo nodded, "She just said nothing had been resolved. Which it hadn't. So resolve it."
As if trying to romance the woman Ben had been helplessly and irrevocably in love with for the better part of a decade was as easy as taking a stroll, Bastian shrugged and added, "It's simple, really."
Benedict swallowed thickly, hearing a loud ringing in his ears. He found he couldn't focus his eyesight on anything, vision growing blurry as his eyes aimlessly scanned the room. He had taken your abrupt exit from his studio as a complete rejection, a sign that he had ruined any chance of moving beyond the boundaries of the friendship you two had built so lovingly. But apparently, the rejection had not been because you did not love him back, but rather because Benedict had behaved quite like an ass.
The absolute bliss he should have felt was overshadowed by a tightness in his chest that he could easily attribute to fear. There was so much more to lose now. He was scared out of his wits that he'd mess up again and lose you in any way that mattered, friendship and all.
"But what if it's too far gone? What if I don't fix it?" asked Ben, voicing his fears shakily.
Bastian laughed dryly and Benedict felt it more than he would a physical blow. "That's not really an option, is it? That's our sister you're talking about."
Theo growled lowly, not opposed to resorting to violence when the matter concerned the possible heartbreak of his younger sister. "Fix it or we fix you."
And the two walked out, Hyacinth skipping happily in front of them, without acknowledging the garbled groan that came from Ben's throat. He would have to make it count, then. One last chance to make you his. To make a reality the only way he could truly be happy. But it wasn't an impossible task. He knew you better than you knew yourself, after all.
---
You were making your way upstairs to your bedroom after another torturous dinner without Ben when Anthony touched your arm and asked if he could walk you back. It took less than five seconds for you to burst into tears and nod sorrowfully as he led you out of the sitting room where the rest of your families had migrated and were now settling into cozy conversation. Thankfully, no one else noticed, or at least didn't think to call you out on your sudden burst of emotion.
"It's going to be alright, one way or another," Anthony whispered as he led you down the hallway. And though he felt it was appropriate given the circumstance, he refrained from calling you darling or really any other pet name, knowing Benedict was usually the only one to refer to you as such, and thus it might cause you more undue stress.
"I know," you responded tearfully. "I just miss him."
You hiccuped and leaned your head onto Anthony's shoulder. As much as you enjoyed Anthony's company, you secretly wished that it was Benedict's strong shoulder you were feeling. But it didn't do to dwell on such matters now.
"Well, he did tell you he loved you," offered Anthony as the two of you climbed the stairs. "I think you're crazy to not immediately go after him." Perhaps he had been too worried about the fact that Benedict was an idiot to realize that you, too, were an idiot when it came to matters pertaining to your best friend and your very obvious love for him.
You shook your head decidedly. "He did tell me that, yes, but look at what's happened now," you said, flailing your arms in frustration. "He's ignored me for three days. You can't just say you're in love with someone and then not speak with them for three days!"
Anthony laughed softly when you sniffed sulkily, but you kept speaking. "It's too easy for Ben to swoop in after I've done so much work to get over him and found someone I want to marry," you gave the man beside you a pointed stare. "I don't just want to be with him when it's convenient for him. I need Benedict to actually want me and to prove that he wants me. Which he is doing a very poor job of at the minute because I haven't seen him since he confessed he was in love with me," you finished with a huff.
But Anthony was saved from having to respond, as Alex was waiting for you by your bedroom door, hands behind his back.
"Ah, Y/N. Just the person I wanted to see. Do you fancy a chat?"
Seeing that you didn't have much of a choice, you nodded and thanked Anthony, sending him on his way as you turned to face your older brother. "Very well," you relented.
The two of you went inside your bedroom and Alex, ever the unwavering presence in your life, closed the door firmly and crossed his arms as he stared at you. You were a tad nervous, not quite sure of what he was going to say. Ever since you had started courting Anthony, he had steered clear of the two of you, not exactly disapproving of the courtship, but not particularly supportive of it either. Needless to say, you were fairly surprised that he was being so direct with you now, asking to talk to you and staring you down in your room.
"Y/N," he started. "I mean this will all the love that I have in my heart for you, which is quite a lot, but you are being so, so stupid. It's almost painful to watch."
You were completely taken aback. "Excuse me?" you sputtered, not quite believing that your brother would speak to you like this. Although it was nice to hear him speak to you in any way at all, since you knew he had probably been holding back from saying this every time you spoke with him for the duration of your courtship with Anthony.
With a determined look on his face, a slightly furrowed brow, and downturned lips, Alexander pressed on. "You are so obviously in love with Benedict," and before you could protest, he continued speaking. "And he is so obviously in love with you, that I just don't understand the problem. He told you he was in love with you, from what Eloise has said, so I don't particularly see an issue now."
A flicker of confusion passed over your face. "He– What? What are you getting at?" you asked, knowing there was something else that Alex wanted to say.
It was imperative to him that you grasped what he was saying instead of focusing on how he said it. So he sighed a tad impatiently but spoke steadily enough that you wouldn't be put off by his tone of voice. "At the beginning of the season, I wasn't absolutely bricking it over my little sister debuting in society because I didn't think I would have to worry about you actually courting anyone. I just assumed that you and Ben would end up married, much like the rest of our families. In fact, I assumed you would be married already. It's mid-August now, and I thought you would have at the very latest married in June. Again, I mean this with a lot of love, but you're being a massive idiot. Every single person in our family can see that you're in love. So go be with the man you love!"
You were stunned. Alex had never made any indication that he thought that you and Ben would marry. But then again, perhaps you and Benedict loving each other came so naturally that he didn't need to.
Nevertheless, you shook your head adamantly. "I don't care what you thought, or what the rest of the family thought, or even what I thought! Benedict left me when I needed him, and Anthony was there for me–"
"So, you're marrying Anthony, then? You've decided you still want to be with him after all this?" asked Alex, on the brink of losing his seemingly endless temper.
"I don't know! Maybe? I haven't entirely decided, yet," you argued. "But it's either that or no marriage since Benedict hasn't exactly provided an alternative solution, and I would rather die than marry a man of the ton."
"But do you love Anthony?" asked your brother, voice clear as it cut through your rambling.
"Does it matter?"
"To you, it does," he responded firmly, but not unkindly.
And he was right. To you, it did matter. Perhaps not to Anthony, and perhaps not to Alexander, either. But to you, it did. Or it had, at least. And shouldn't it still matter? Even if you hadn't had the most linear season, and you hadn't found exactly what you were looking for. Shouldn't you still hope for love? And shouldn't you still fight for it, despite your best friend's terrible timing?
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blue--ingenue · 5 months
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soft!sebastian headcannons - part 8
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Author's Note: holy hiatus. i'm sorry for the long absence, loves. classes have been hitting hard this semester :( in honor of finals week, here are a few hc about how Seb would cope with exam season. this is also an excuse for me to romanticize academia to keep up my motivation :)
he acts nonchalant in public, but behind closed doors he’s using every spare second he’s not with you to study
his favorite spot to study is in the library. there’s a window box with a plush velvet seat next to one of the fireplaces. he likes that he can look out over the quidditch pitch to watch you soar through the stadium during practices
he’ll switch spots every few hours, usually picking a choice table or nook when he comes back from dinner. he knows all the prime study spots and most of Ravenclaw house is annoyed that he’s stolen the best ones
absolute caffeine menace. tea doesn’t do it for him, pepperup potion gives him the jitters, but coffee hits the spot. he drinks it black, only adding cream to cool down a piping-hot cup so he can chug it and get back to work
(Ominis had gagged at the smell the first time he’d done it. since then he’s made sure to cover his nose each time he hears Sebastian reach for one of the coffee pots lining the Slytherin table)
his curls become even more unruly when he’s stressed and pulled a few all-nighters. a few times he’s dragged himself into class, tie askew, shirt rumpled, and reading glasses pushed up into his curls. he’d been grumpy, insisting that he’s never looked so disheveled before. to your annoyance every witch, and many wizards, couldn’t keep their eyes off him for the rest of the day
all of Ominis’ attempts to convince him to sleep have fallen on deaf ears. however, when you tuck into his side and run your fingers through his hair, he reluctantly leans into your touch before falling blissfully asleep
his snores become exponentially worse when he’s really exhausted. Ominis has taken to casting a silencing spell around Sebastian’s curtains every night. he finds out on a random day while asking Ominis about a question on their Arithmancy study guide. no matter how loud he shouted, the Gaunt boy wouldn’t acknowledge him. he finally got up and shouted. Ominis cussed so filthily that Sebastian was momentarily stunned into silence. to this day they still bicker about who is to blame
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Taglist:@mlktea13, @mrsbrookesallow, @ithinkweallsing, @snickette, @crispywiz
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ephemeral--dreams · 1 year
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Alhaitham, Cyno, Kokomi; when you get injured.
☆ ☾ ☆ ──────────────────
Alhaitham
He had anticipated an average day. Showing up to work, finishing whatever he needed to, and then spending his time reading for the remainder of the afternoon.
In other words, he hadn't thought he'd be wrestling answers out of a pair of scholars after hearing your name in passing.
"Do you want to tell me why I had to find out you were injured through gossip?" Is the first thing Alhaitham asks as he enters the room, tone fairly neutral despite the accusatory nature of his words. You blink at him from where you sit, covered in bandages, but awake and aware, at least. Not as bad as he'd worried it would be.
If he was more prone to outbursts of emotion, he might've burst in here and scolded you. He might've felt panic when he'd found out you were hurt. He might've been relieved when he found you seemed to be relatively okay.
…Alhaitham tells himself he felt none of that.
"…I didn't want to bother you. You get annoyed when you get interrupted unnecessarily, right?"
He falls silent. So that was it. You weren't wrong, exactly, but… He'd hardly call it an interruption, when it was about your health and safety. He knew he didn't make his emotions obvious, but he'd thought you had enough sense to realize he cared about you. He wouldn't have put up with you being around for so long if he didn't.
"You're an idiot," is all he says, preoccupying himself with making sure you've been taken care of properly, hands brushing surprisingly gently over you. Archons know that the Akademiya is filled with stupid people, even the healers can't be trusted with you… "If you're bothering me, you know I wouldn't hold back on telling you. Don't make needless assumptions."
"Maybe I am. Sorry," you sit patiently as he examines you, his concern unspoken as always, but obvious in his actions. As harsh as he could be at times, it was moments like this in which you were reminded that he could be softer... Occasionally. "I'm okay, really. You don't need to worry."
Alhaitham doesn't quite believe you - the way he watches over you more closely for the next few weeks makes it abundantly clear. But you can't exactly complain about having his attention, even if you had to get hurt for it to happen…
Cyno
Cyno is… Well aware that injuries are something that happen. He faces dangerous situations on a regular basis. Often, he himself is the danger.
This isn't the same, however. As much as he hates anyone else getting injured under his watch, when it's you, it feels exponentially worse. It should never, ever happen. If he could protect criminals from getting hurt in their own stupidity as they ran from him, couldn't he protect you even better?
…Apparently not, considering the pained sounds you let out under your breath and he carried you to get medical attention. This was what he got for getting distracted with work while you were together, wasn't it? Target apprehended, but not without you getting caught up in it all.
"It's only a broken leg, Cyno. You don't need to look so guilty."
"It happened because of me," his voice is tense, just as tense as his arms around you feel.
You don't get the chance to reply, commotion beginning the moment the two of you arrive. Then it's Tighnari fussing over you, Collei's worried face in the background, and no sign of Cyno.
It's not until a few hours later when he shows up, moonlight glinting off his silent form. If you were any less used to his presence, you'd have been startled by how he appeared so suddenly. As it is, you take it in stride.
"I don't blame you, you know, but when you disappear like that I end up being the one who's worried…"
All he can think is - you're far too forgiving. Though perhaps that was why he was drawn to you in the first place. A pure soul, one not infected by a greed for knowledge or money or power, as many around him were. You are too good for him, but here the two of you are, regardless.
You huff at his lack of reply, reaching to take his hand, tugging him closer. "I'm fine, see? Stop brooding and come sit with me. You can even tell me some of your jokes if it'll make you feel better."
You were the one supposed to be getting reassured here… But if it was what you wanted, he'd acquiesce. "…Fine. I will."
Kokomi
Kokomi feels her heart nearly stop in her chest at the sight of you bloodied and unconscious. Yet she keeps her calm until she's taken you to a quieter place, away from the sight of the shrine maidens.
During the rebellion, one of the worst parts of it all had been watching people get injured under her command. Injuries happened during war. It was inevitable. But it still brought a terrible feeling of helplessness.
Which is exactly what she's feeling now. It was worse because it was someone so dear to her who was hurt, this time. It was a harsh reminder of both your fragility, and of the fact that even during times of peace, harm could still befall you and everyone else.
Being the one to watch over watatsumi is a burdensome responsibility.
But if nothing else, she'd been blessed with the ability to heal. So that's what she does, the blue light of hydro washing over all your wounds until they slowly fade.
It doesn't quite feel good enough. Regardless of them being gone, she will remember they were there. You will remember the pain. But it is what it is, and acceptance is more productive than reminiscence.
Kokomi remains next to you, watching the way your breaths rise and fall like the waves hitting and retreating from the shore.
She's still there when you wake.
"Do you feel better? It was concerning when you returned in that state."
Your smile is far too bright for the situation. "Much better."
"You need to be more careful. If I wasn't around…" Kokomi hesitates, the sort of sight only you are allowed. Hesitation had no place in the demeanor of the divine priestess, but if it was just you…
"I knew you would take care of me," you reach out to press a kiss to her lips, and she allows the reassurance - that you are still here with her.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Aaaaaaahhh your recent post with the vampire!s/o was so good omg!!! Bc I’m a whore for vampires, could I perchance request it but opposite, with us as the human and them as the vampire? No worries if not, thank you for the content you provide us with and I hope your day is going well!!!
I'm a whore for vampires too! They are so damn sexy, why can't they be real?
Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, x Reader
Tags: fluff, blood drinking, vampire au, biting kink, hickyes, possessive behavior
A/N: I'm normally a little squeamish around blood but in this context I think it's sexy.
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Jinx has gad bad cravings before but since she got injected with Shimmer they increased exponentially. She's also become less in control of herself when she's feeling thirsty.
She used to feel on people randomly to satisfy herself but none of their blood could fill and soothe her like yours could. You became her favorite snack very quickly. Tries to be less feral on you when she feeds but at the same time she craves your blood so much she can't help but drink from multiple spots on your body.
"This is gonna be a lot for ya sugar. Are ya sure you wanna do this? Have you eaten yet? I don't want ya passing out on me like last time. Ya scared the hell out of me, I thought I actually killed ya. Ya promised to say with me so ya better not go dying before I've had the chance to love ya like ya deserve."
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Vi was very starved of blood when she was in prison. Even when she did get fed it was never sweet human blood. It always tasted very bitter on her tongue.
When she got her first taste of you she was afraid she could never get enough. She was scared of hurting you with how hard she was biting, or worse killing you if she was to lose control. However if you press your wrist up to her lips she won't resist it, and will always kiss the spot she bit. If she does go overboard you have permission to punch her.
"I call you sweet stuff all the time cause that's what you are. Really you're the sweetest thing I've ever tasted in my life. I could eat you all the time, and I don't just mean drinking your blood. Your blood tastes even sweeter when you're flustered. Can I have a sip?"
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Caitlyn may have had the highest quality blood available to her as a member of the Kiramman Clan but she never actually feed on someone before.
She had no idea anything could feel so damn good. The adrenaline of it nearly sent her into a feeding frenzy. Lucky for you she has excellent self control over her urges. Pampers you when she's done drinking your blood, she has to make sure you're happy with her, that you have everything you need.
"Are you comfortable darling? Does it hurt anywhere? No? Ah good, good. Why don't you relax and I'll go prepare a bath for you, order us some food. Maybe my dad will make your favorite. Or we could go out to eat if you're feeling up to it."
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Ekko rarely feeds on you if he can help it. There's more then enough blood to go around from the supplies they steal. Of course it doesn't taste as good as your blood but he'd rather not risk it.
The only time when he will drink from you is when you're hurt and already bleeding. Not only will get a little sip of you but he will also help close up the injury. It's a win-win situation as far as he's concirned.
"That looks pretty bad Firefly, what's you do to get nasty cut? Alright, no need to panic. Come here, take a seat next to me, let me have a lick- er... look... uhm... sorry. You know what your blood does to me. I'll only drink a little and have you fixed up in no time."
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Silco has many people available to suck blood from and even so you're by far his favorite. He gets territorial over you in a way he never gets with anyone else.
There are times he's happy to share with Sevika but not share you, never you. Your neck is for him only. He will leave you marked with bites as you leave his office. If you're too tired to leave you can sleep on his couch, he'll make sure you're not disturbed at all.
"You smell more divine than usual my darling. Is that for me? You know I'm always happy to bite that pretty little neck no matter what. Although it would be a lot easier if you stopped your squirming. I know how my bites have an effect on you but please do try to stay still, I would hate to hurt you."
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Sevika loves more then she lives any other of her vices. You're better than of her other vices, more tasty, more fun, and so damn cute when you bare her neck to her.
Where she really likes drinking from you though is your thighs. She can switch from eating your blood to eating you in a whole other manor in seconds. She can blur the line of pleasure and pain for you so much that you crave her as much as she craves you.
"Haven't you learned by now sugar lips, I want your legs spread for me when I ask you to. I know you get pretty tired when I drink from you so that's all I'm gonna do for today. Wouldn't want you to get sick or too weak. Tell you what, you let me have a bite, and then we'll go out and have a bite together."
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Viktor gets a lot of energy when he feeds on you. He's well aware of that fact and has actually kept that hidden from you because he knew you would just offer yourself whenever he's looking very pale.
Your relationship is so much more than him feeding on you. You taste great don't get him wrong, he just hates the idea of you thinking that all he loves you for is your blood. When he's at work he never eats so he can be pretty hungry so that's the only time he really indulges.
"Darling I'm sorry to ask you this again but could I have another drink of you? I know you tell me I don't need to ask but nonetheless I will. When you're feeling fatigued let me know and I'll stop. Your neck looks so pretty with my teeth marks on it, I love staring at it when we're walking around the city."
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Jayce really loves to suck your blood yet is often to shy to ask for it. He'd just stare sheepishly at you until you chuckled and bared your neck for his hungry mouth.
He loves to press you close to him, sharing body heat, what little he has with you while you sigh and relax into his fangs, scratching at his scalp and pulling him closer. Sometimes it's hard to tell who's enjoy thing this more, you or Jayce?
"Sorry about that babe, didn't mean to keep staring at you like that. I am a little hungry but I can wait until- oh, woah, alright then, right into my lap hm? What am I gonna do with you? You're as excited as I am aren't you? Well then don't mind if I do."
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tgrailwar-zero · 4 months
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Look, Rider, I have been listening, I just feel guilty about summoning someone only to drive them out. Yes, we shouldn't have summoned her in the first place, but we did.
Also, I am starting to feel worse every time she acts like a kid if I am honest...
Are we really doing the right thing by killing her? I mean it's probably in part because she looks like a little kid that I am having such trouble. It's hard when it's directly in front of you.
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CONSTANTINE: "…Right. The Beast has bewitched you with it's appearance, and you deign to pity it. I understand. Heroic Spirits cannot be children. Nor is the Whore of Babylon a mere child. That thing does not deserve 'guilt', we must…"
He stopped, before crossing his arms with a sigh.
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CONSTANTINE: "…Nevermind. Continue your talks with the Beast."
A moment of long, dejected silence hung before PRETENDER sidled up to him, watching as the Emperor gave another attempt to tug his blade free from the sheath to run through DRACO, only to be met with the resistance of the Command Spell.
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PRETENDER: "Oho. With that sigh, I'm sure that means you've heard a lot of apologies and not much agreement. Now, I get that we're technically enemies- as you're the Rider of Red..."
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PRETENDER: "...Though you're not much of a 'Rider of Red' anymore, are you? Your allies are now your enemies, and everything you say gets brushed off by your current allies. You want to be a hero, but you're tasked with a different part. I mean, if I were you, I'd be furious. I mean, if my enemy openly wished to behead me, I'd want my Masters to do everything to support me- and yet here they are now, with nothing but excuses..."
CONSTANTINE: "There's no reason to be furious. Besides..."
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PRETENDER: "Ooh. Want to mark that ego blow, or should I? I'm sure you expected your Masters to rally behind you against evil, not saddle you with performance art and baby the demon, right?"
With an airy laugh, PRETENDER leaned in closer.
PRETENDER: "Listen, you seem like a stand-up guy. But that still doesn't change the fact that your Masters are giving more courtesy to a Beast than to you. Maybe they're already enthralled by it. The power, the opportunity… I can understand you're the type to 'turn the other cheek', but sometimes you need to just do the right thing. You know… like slaying a dragon."
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The PRETENDER-Class snapped his fingers, as CONSTANTINE felt a surge of magical energy rush through his body. Compounding his innate magical ability, the resistance to magic blessed upon him increasing exponentially.
He drew his sword. Smoothly, simply, easily. His eyes widened, as he turned back to look at the PRETENDER- who returned the Emperor's surprise with a coy smile and a wink. CONSTANTINE turned to look at the Beast.
Slay a dragon. Like the great Saint Georgios.
He began to walk forward, slowly. The Beast wasn't paying him any mind. Arrogance, made manifest. He felt a myriad of things- guilt, anger, frustration… mostly towards himself. He was given an order, and he was disobeying. Even if it was the right thing, he made an agreement. This was treachery, but…
He began quietly praying to himself.
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CONSTANTINE: "Remit, pardon and forgive, O God, our sins committed voluntarily and involuntarily…"
This was the right thing. He could ask forgiveness later, if needed. He shook his head- why feel shame for enacting justice?
By Saint Mary. Saint Martha. Saint Peter. Saint Paul. Saint Michael, who had boldly fought the Dragon in order to bring peace to the world, as prophesied by Saint John. This Beast must be laid low. Destroyed, completely and utterly.
He continued quietly praying to himself as he marched silently onward.
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CONSTANTINE: "…By word and deed, knowingly and in ignorance, by thought and purpose, by day and night…"
Closer. Closer. Step by step. Moment by moment.
He raised his blade.
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CONSTANTINE: "…forgive all these... for You are gracious and love mankind."
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tisthedamngreenbriar · 8 months
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windows boarded up after the storm, he built a fire just to keep me warm.
guys i'm so embarassed. so. i wrote this for the @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers Sprint Fic Challenge, BUT THE JULY ONE. and as you may notice it is september already.
in my defense, i kinda started this one and then completely abandoned it on my drafts and never once looked back. but now is here! kinda! this is my first time ever writing a challenge, and also my first time posting my writing in here!! for the sprint challenge july 2023, I chose the social media prompt + one of the prompts from previous challenges (hope that was allowed??)
this is neither polished or revised, just fresh out the notes app so you guys will have to forgive me for errors. i fully intend to develop this aswell, but we'll see.
enjoy!
***
It was supposed to be small. A simple get together for their group, with cake and booze to celebrate Rose's birthday. But, now they were in a mansion one hour out of town and Marinette was pretty sure she could smell something burning.
But, first things first: lets not get ahead of ourselves.
***
Moving everything was a pain in the ass. They'd to be quick and through so no food or garnment was neither damaged nor left behind - also watch out for the worst case scenario, harming sound equipament -, and the threat of the storm was making Marinette mimic the thunders, rumbling with anxiety. With everything already packed in the cars, they went on their merry way, with Adrien leading the path out of the city. 
The blonde boy really was an angel. Offering to take the party to his country house when the weather became Marinette's worse enemy was so kind that the bluenette's heart fluttered a bit, reminding her why she used to have that stupid and exponentially big crush on him all those years ago. Not that that meant anything: her romantic organ also gave a little jump seeing him help Kagami, his long term girlfriend, into the car. Affection just made her goofy.
Getting to the estate was easy, since the rain wasn't really pouring yet and the traffic was on their side, for a change. Obviously, it was huge, because the Agrestes never failed in that department, and everyone immeadiately? started setting everything up on the patio behind the main house and in front of the guest one, so they could use it for bathroom breaks and personal items since no one was willying to wander in the Agreste's mansion and risk scarring his perfectly put everything. The rain didnt seem to follow them so atleast it was safe to be outside.
And then there was Luka. Going around helping out everyone, smilling and whistling to himself. Luka who was just as oblivious to her as Adrien had been, cause apparently that was just her luck. 
"Girl, stop staring, Jesus" Alya's voice broke off any coherent line of thought that Marinette could have formed, startling the smaller one. "You're gonna burn holes on that poor boys back"
"Am I that bad, or is it possible that you are just a drama queen hoping to live uncomfortable situations vicariously through me since you are on a happy and commited relationship?" Marinette arched her brown and left out a breath after going through that phrase fast so that her best friend couldn't interrupt.
"I thought you were a double  major on fashion and business, not psychoanalysis, babes" Alya's eyes closed in on her behind the glasses, the tilt of the redhead's head adding to the menacing look.
"And I thought you were on margarita duty. Where are my drinks, Césaire?"
"Here," the sound came from behind Marinette and this time the jump almost made her drop the firmly held karaoke machine. Before she could register the movement, a arm came foward to take it out of her hands, caging her in. "Where do you want these?" The voice was now in her ear, speaking so softly it could only belong to Luka. This time, the surprise made her actually jerk foward and the man stepped back to allow the reaction.
With the added space, Marinette turned to face him, carrying a pint of she supposed were margaritas on one hand and the box who she was just strugglig with on the other like it was nothing. Looking absolutely delicious doing both, not to mention it.
"Sorry for the scare, Mari," he smiled at her apologetic and she believed she could have died right there on the spot, hearing the nickname and seeing the dimples "'I was just trying to help."
"No, no, its okay! Im just... jumpy. So much to do and whatnot" she tried her best to smile back but the proximity made it wobly. she probably looked so silly that just thinking about it made her wanna scream. But Luka didnt seem fazed.
"At your service" Marinette felt like passing out. "I'm gonna find a place to put these down and then come back to help, okay?"
Not trusting herself to speak, the French-Chinese simply nodded, and at that he walked out. Alya's eyes were on her the whole time, fighting back the smirk.
"Not a word" Marinette sushed her, and the journalist cackled into the sky.
***
The party was a success, as far as last minute ones go. It made Rose so happy she teared up a little over the cake, plus she was so delighted at Marinettes dedication to making the whole arrangement work -- and fighting for the party to go on on the first place -- that the petit blond decided to gift her with the first slice of cake.
Now, it was late and they were all a little too buzzed to drive back. The lights and decorations were all still up, so they sat on a messy circle made out of lawn chairs and pillows, chating about nothing in particular.
Somehow, Marinette ended up on Luka's chair, their bodies pressed together in the small space. Looking for the perfect position, luka grabbed her legs so that they were in his lap and trew one of his arms over her shoulders, causing the girl to shiver with the contact.
"You cold?" He asked her while drawing patterns on her knee hith the hand that rested there. She took a minute to answer positively, barely registering that it was a question, concentrating too much on the way his fingers found the spot that got all her hairs standing and saluding the man that was Luka Couffaine. The second shudder was welcomed by him, who took the softly whispered "yes" and the trembling as results of her freezing and not Marinette being turned on. Thank God for small mercies.
With that, Luka got up and sprinted away after drapping his jacket all around her. She didnt quite understand what was going on until he had already organized all the firewood on the middle of the patio and was trying to light it.
He wasnt. No way.
But apparently the thought of setting stuff on fire appealed more to Luka than simply holding her. Awesome.
"Do you ever just forget they're Couffaines? But then they do something like like this." She could hear the laugh in Rose's voice before turning to meet her eye. "In the beggining of our relationship Juleka would pull the most ridiculous stunts and go the hardest lenghts to prove herself to me. It was so silly. I felt like a damsel in distress on a bad mute movie. But don't worry too much about it. Luka is far more vocal than Jules, and even if he weren't they are fast learners, the Couffaines."
...What?
Maybe the confusion was obvious in Marinettes face, or she had said it out loud cause Rose continued.
"What? Did I say something wrong? Did I meddled? Is just that you guys have been on this will they, won't the thing for so long, and neither of you would just come out and say it! It feels good to be finally able to say it, that's it." Marinettes eyes widened even more than she thought it was possible. What the hell Rose thinks is going on?
It was only when all the bluenette could do was look terrified with her mouth basically hanging open, that the blonde one realized she made a mistake.
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bltzgore · 9 months
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im obsessed with waterboarding torture whump but i canNOT find much on it here on tumblr so i was wondering if i can have your twisted brilliant mind’s take on it……. /pos
Oh, YES! (and thank you 😈) this is gonna be a long one. I have some IDEAS.
Tw: waterboarding, panic, mentions of gasoline
Let's hit the ground running!
Waterboarding is fun, but it is so much better (in my opinion) when you go after someone who is especially susceptible to it. Someone who's afraid of the water, or has incompatible physical traits or powers.
Starting with water boarding the old fashioned way (we'll call it traditional) with the build up. The getting tied, or even better held, down on whumpee's back. I'm gonna lean into held down for how much more they can struggle. I think the amount of fear expressed can double if whumpee actually manages to get an arm free before it's grabbed back and pinned twice as rough.
You need to show that whumpee is desperate. They are convinced this is going to kill them. They are screaming, or growling, or maybe they snap (does your whumpee bite?). This just makes the whumpers laugh. "Damn, we got a live one."
Then the cloth goes over their face and and they feel like they're going to have a heart attack, whumpee is actually crying at this point, hyperventilating (which will only make it worse when the water arrives). The terror is so strong it hurts.
Let us recall that covering whumpee's eyes can make things exponentially worse. They can no longer predict and brace for whatever it is. It can come at any time and that kind of terror can do half the whumper's work for them. So keep things unpredictable.
From there it's a simple process for whumper. Half drown whumpee, demand information they cannot give, put the cloth back, rinse and repeat.
Whumpee feels like they are drowning and dying and being dragged back again. This is their own personal hell, and there is no escape. I like to wonder how much energy they'd have, and if eventually they'd fall limp. Whumpee no longer has the strength to fight back and now they're sobbing and just waiting to die.
I love when it's a fierce character who's breaking to this as well. They started out cursing everyone out and trying to claw at their captors and they've been reduced to begging and incoherent runs of "No no no no no no! Not again!! STOP! STOP-"
So I said before this was the traditional method, let's branch out a bit:
- I once read a very inspired whump post about using gasoline to waterboard someone, and holy shit I wanna write about that! (I was unfortunately unable to find the original post.) Just imagine how much more it burns. Choking on gas. Then whumper gets to threaten them by holding up a match.
- there's also holding someone under water. I don't prefer this necessarily, but it's a fun option if you don't have the means of restraining whumpee on their back. You could do this anywhere, and if you press their head down just right you can make sure they can still hear whumper as they make their demands.
- I could go on and on about water based whump, but for now I'll cut it here! Happy whumping!!!
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izzyspussy · 21 hours
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there's a meta post going around that i disagree with heavily and i wanna say why but i don't wanna be argumentative in op's notes so i'm making a vaguepost instead
a) i don't really remember anything in canon that would provide evidence to say ted is untruthful or inaccurate by saying jamie is "getting good minutes" at city. the one (1) game we see him play for them he IS a starter, and not only that he plays for the entire game (and is also shown to be behaving well, encouraging his teammates, and playing cooperatively). jamie mentioning that he doesn't start every time or play the full 90 every game and is on the bench sometimes really doesn't indicate that he's unfavored as a player, due simply to the fact that Manchester City is a huge, well funded team with more talent to cycle through than it could ever manage to use all of consistently. we also have to keep in mind that TL is not the real world, and while 24 is not a young player anymore here on covid-19's Earth, it is said that jamie is at the beginning of his career several times in canon. it may be unrealistic, but it's not an unreliable narrative - some suspension of disbelief is necessary. jamie is still a junior player in the world if TL so it's not a snub to him or evidence that he's not doing well if he's not a permanent fixture on the starting lineup with more established players on a large and star studded team.
b) and honestly more importantly: abuse makes you crazy. it makes you irrational and/or emotionally unstable. it truly does not matter at all if the rest of your circumstances are "the dream" or not. it does not matter if you might even personally think that bad is worth putting up with for the sake of keeping the good. sometimes people do make that call I won't say that doesn't happen, but it is really unlikely to be a logical cost-benefit analysis of a decision. so like... even if james never treated jamie any worse than exactly what we saw in canon (which i would also say is already quite a bit worse than just "sucking"), there it is not even the slightest leap to think he'd "throw away the dream" to get away, whether he could ideally tough it out or not. sometimes you make choices that are the wrong choices! sometimes you do something irrational and based on emotional impulse! that's true even if your life is relatively easy and low stress and you have a strong support network and no mental illness or trauma responses to manage! and every new factor that contributes to stress makes it exponentially more likely.
say you have a high pressure job, and it's also very physically taxing, and also you have a restricted diet, and also you just made yourself vulnerable and were rejected with no explanation, and also you recently got dumped, and also your mom is disappointed in you, and also you don't have any close friends, and also your abuser can show up any time he wants even at your workplace and push you around and scare you and humiliate you and relentlessly insult you and make sure you never feel any sense of accomplishment or enjoyment from the activity that you love and spend the vast majority of your daily life working hard at and the entirety of your life maintaining your ability to perform. and yeah, you've got your dream job. objectively you're doing very well. but boy i tell you what with all that shit you can fucking bet you're crazy too! and when you're crazy you make decisions that are also crazy!! and btw self sabotage is one of the most common maladaptive behaviors of all time!!!
anyway in conclusion: sometimes coming up with a well reasoned explanation is not necessary (and may even make less sense) when the explanation of bad reasoning has already been provided for you
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twopoppies · 2 years
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Gina, forgive me if I’m being optimistic but I’m not seeing these signs Larries speak of about Harry going further into the closet for his Hollywood career. I follow other musicians who went into the closet for their Hollywood careers and they had all their connections to the lgbtq+ community wiped from existence before they got started, where it is most important to make a good impression, and they went straight for the het roles and put their all into bearding relationships. But here we have Harry playing a closeted gay man when there is already speculation about his sexuality. A deeply closeted person wouldn’t do this at the beginning of their career, no matter how much the movie means to them. They will be so concerned with looking straight that they’ll avoid anything that doesn’t. Doing that role has created more speculation, and Harry would have known that. I’m not talking about the trolls, but the gp who were on the fence before, are often discussing his sexuality. I’m also seeing him be equally as flamboyant as ever and waving rainbow flags like always but on a larger scale, to a 90k+ audience. I’m seeing more articles, celebrities, the media suggest he isn’t straight. I’m seeing his team and family talk about the lgbtq+ community more than ever. I’m seeing him book his Australian tour during pride month. None of this would be happening. And he has spent 12 years inching his way out the closet and now he looks happier and more confident than ever. He has also said a million times that acting is a side gig for him, not a priority. I’m not saying that the bearding will stop, but things might just stay the same.
Hi sugar. Yeah, I lean more towards how you see things. I think what's been very hard for people is Holivia. This bearding relationship has been exponentially worse than any other he's had before –– especially in terms of visibility and length and how much he's participated. And a lot of people were disappointed because they thought things (in terms of being out) were moving in one direction and then seemed to go backwards.
But if you take a step back and really look at, as you say, the inching forward he's done over the last 5 years, he's in a monumentally better place than he was in 2015. Would I like Olivia to be gone? Hell yes. But there have been so many small changes we never could have imagined seeing even just a few years ago:
he's offering pretty substantial comments about his sexuality in magazines (particularly the latest in Better Homes and Gardens)
he's wearing some pretty outrageous clothes and not just on stage
he's fantastically flamboyant on stage in the way he dances, the things he says, the songs he covers etc
he's talked about the fluidity of fashion and has often worn "women's" clothing/accessories
He was on the cover of Vogue in a dress (and inside the magazine in skirts)
He openly wore make up in Beauty Papers (he probably wears make up often, but that was one time it was acknowledged)
he's playing a closeted gay man (and will have gay sex scenes) in his first starring movie role
he's still waving pride flags at literally every. single. concert.
He's helped numerous people come out at his shows which often gets written about in magazines
he's written songs that seem to be about gender (She, Fine Line), and songs that have been seen as pride anthems (Lights Up, TPWK), and a song that's widely accepted as a queer song (Medicine)
he not only paints his nails most days, he now has his own line of nail polish
There are surely other things, but that's all off the top of my head. I'm not saying it's leading to something specific, but from the way he's spoken lately and from the sound of his music, he seems in a good place. And from watching Louis on stage these last few months, I think we can say the same for him. I really look forward to seeing what the future brings.
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incarnateirony · 2 months
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God it's so unfortunate it's had to go like this.
You know when this started, we could have reached, "Oh, it's octopus jibberish? You know maybe I shouldn't steal your old stories and stuff, I'm obviously doing it wrong. Wait, I'm on the wrong path, maybe I should turn around." like day one I pointed it out but no. No we had to go off the honkai star rail and she had to make an utter fucking specimen of herself to a point where her hole is so exponentially deep I can't even see the way out for her, especially as long as the people around her enable this.
In another lifetime, where she had people who actually paid attention, supported, and had best interests rather than old grudges at heart, we might have been able to have a good laugh about the lemonade snowglobe sportsdome and video game cartoon physics real, but no, now we're here, in her dying a decade ago in some timelines and trying to process reality around her in all the rest--to no success, while wanting it to fit a written narrative, rather than reality. But no you had to encourage her to keep shaking the dragon graveyard.
Shame on y'all.
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There used to be a day and time that elder practitioners summarily warned young students to not fuck with things they did not understand, and people generally understood there were reasons for that and accepted that. The last month has been witness of a probationer spinning in circles, pleaing her right to know nothing after a lifetime and charge for students to follow the circle.
What part of, you are literally disturbing the infinite dead at this point is not hitting. well. dead is relative. the infinite. that sounds like i'm god. but you know i am that i am a man and all that. but you know. hermetics. it's a thing. you should look it up some time. but yeah sure be mad i get spicy when you refuse to stop jerking off shadows
the sign was always for you.
And thus? Worse? It's all things you already felt somewhere, and we both know it.
I just shoved The Big Game up its ass. In honor of my tremendous bicycle you love to ride. You do love your games.
What? Music and Tricks and Messages are already claimed, I had to have a little bit of my own thing. That's what having your own Identity is. Games is adjacent enough we can co-op great, sis! I refuse to be the mangod of giving Jackles Destiel Brainrot. And you know, Shadow Sonic was born in a great era to just karate chop a portal into the internet.
hey guys you wanna know how to pop a lid off? third secret trick. There's a jar in a box in a hole in a nuclear reactor at the bottom of the sea o/~ There's a jar in a box in a hole in a nuclear reactor at the bottom of the sea o/~ Yo why is there two of everybody. As hermes' great grandma said, if you've got to throw a box into the sun, you've got to do it yourself. It's in the bag, so burn my dread.
youtube
I already burned my flower.
Your turn.
You can get off San Bernadino boy's Cucumber Latch road, now. Funny story, only road like it in town. The Twilight Shard Cat Distribution system is functioning, but the internet keeps breaking and screaming something about things in the room with you that sound real familiar to one specific person that won't listen. Mister choccy milk Unknown is giving you lemonade, live, from Vegas, there's a new casino sportsball music field snowglobe at Tropicana Park. Plankton is attacking the Superbowl, squidward downsmash tartarus shrimp krabs real. Archetype Lemonada is doing great. We moved Bikini Bottom somewhere else.
Those are my Air Jordans.
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theblogtini · 1 year
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I'm not the anon who asked but reading your explanation about the baby formula thing I'm just horrified. In my country women get 4 months of paid maternity leave in the private sector, 6 months if she is a public servant. And it's very much not the choice of the company, it's in the labor laws. On top of that we get a month of paid vacation every year. Some people divide that to two weeks at a time so you don't take all at once. Some people even "sell" their vacation, meaning they get a deal with their employer and keep working during the obligatory vacation month they should have taken, and in that month they receive double salary. We are in Latin America BTW, I will never understand how people in US do not uproar with how things are.
The problem with the US is that for a very long time, we practiced isolationism. We were just over here chillin' in our own bubble, building our country and being like "hey, let's figure out how to rule without a monarch."
We built up a massive military but never really used it - it was all for show.
Then with WWI and WWII we started getting heavily involved in international conflicts and politics. We became the "world's police," and because we had so much money, military might, and influence over industries here and in other countries, we kind of ran the show.
But we've still kept this same isolated, nationalist ideal where people are conditioned to think we are the greatest, strongest, best country in the world. "The birthplace of democracy!"
But in reality nearly every industrialized country in the world has better quality of life than we do. We might have a higher GDP and a bigger army, but we don't provide our people with the healthcare, education, housing, or support they need. We have the most money of any country in the world but we spend it on bailing out corporations that are fucking people over or imprisoning our own people, rather than HELPING our own people.
And that's why right now, our country is so politically divided.
About half the country realizes that things are VERY BAD and that we could be doing A LOT better and that we deny people the very basic rights that people in other country receive (healthcare, education, etc.).
And half the country thinks things are fine but would get better if only white, Evangelical males were in charge and if we adhered to a strict policy of "family values," discrimination, and nationalism. 🙃 People in the US literally believe that universal healthcare is impossible and bad and would basically be the downfall of society, not realizing that 136 countries are all making universal healthcare work. Sure there may be hiccups, and the systems aren't perfect, but at least in those countries people aren't terrified of getting sick because they can't afford the medical bills or insurance.
Also, the US has been VERY slow to modernize. In some industries we have (we adopt technology really quickly, industries innovate and iterate multiple times per year, etc) but culturally we're pretty reserved and prudish. Women didn't enter the workforce en masse until the 50's and 60's, and so the issue of maternity leave was never really that important... and when it became important because being able to live on a single family income became impossible, we never made any changes.
And now we just let people suffer and tell them they're LUCKY to be in this country b/c either they don't know any better or because the place they came from was exponentially worse. But it does not mean things here are good, at all. They aren't HORRIFIC... but that doesn't mean they're good.
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b9horpet · 7 months
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#codetober 2023. 10. 15.
Replaced a heuristics with another one. The results were too funny not to monkey around for a while tweaking it and laughing at the outcome.
The little white dot on the screen represents a light source, namely the sun. It is only for getting visual feedback on the angle (not the position) of the incoming rays. I replaced the dumb (and now literally incorrect) computation that resulted how much energy the plant (or cell? not really sure at this stage) is absorbed.
Now the rays are cast into the world from that dot and actual energy density based on r^-2 method is used. Which is becoming infinite if the light source goes inside the plant. Which happened. That resulted in infinite energy which resulted in exponential growth.
The quick and dirty fix was making too much incoming energy insta kill the plant. This did not solve anything but was a fun experiment.
How's the challenge going so far?
Not bad, had it worse. To be honest I didn't think I would be this consistent but here I am.
I'm not entirely satisfied with the pace I can keep and the procrastination is real, but it's progress nonetheless so i'm not complaining.
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ladyluscinia · 2 years
Note
Oh God, I saw the take about Izzy supposed ly maliciously going after Ed was healing, and I agree it's ridiculous. For one, a clever, manipulative Izzy would have been holding the weeping Ed in his arms, saying it's all right, it's okay, Izzy will always be here for him. And without Stede we'll be back to normal and everything will be right again. Just leave it all to Izzy. But Izzy has the emotional intelligence of a tomato and the manipulative skill of a cucumber so all he can do is try to keep Ed comfortable and the crew out of the loop. He doesn't try to hurt Ed when he was healing out of cruelty! If anything, striking while Ed was at his weakest would be cruelty. First Izzy prioritizes getting through Ed's crisis unscathed. And he lashes out after it becomes clear, even recovered, Ed is considering giving up on being a pirate completely. Does no one realize saying 'let's not be pirates' in front of your first mate, proffesional pirate who did not sign up for this shit, is immensely insensitive to how this massive lifestyle change will impact him?
I think I've seen at least 3 egregiously bad versions of it. I guess the really anti-Izzy people are having trouble reconciling that Edward is alone with Izzy multiple times before Lucius is sent in, and he seems relatively unbothered???
Yes, absolutely, Izzy is in crisis mode during the blanket fort era, but that's at least a recognizable Edward crisis. Something he knows Edward will get through if he just makes sure they have time. But I really cannot emphasize enough that Izzy does not see Edward on that deck as "healing" and he's not wrong. Edward is just trying out a new kind of self-destructive behavior (destroying his identity, good and bad) instead of his previous (depression) or outwardly-destructive option (anger). But it's a kind that Izzy doesn't know how to mitigate.
I don't know if Izzy believes Edward is serious about giving up piracy, but I don't think it matters. They both have historically run on the "never let them see you weak" system, and you can't put that genie back in a bottle. He wants to do a talent show tomorrow. After that, everyone on the ship will be people who have seen Blackbeard host a talent show. If he goes back to "normal" in a week or a month... it still happened. In Izzy's mind, fear-tinged respect is the ONLY thing keeping them successful, and in reality it is certainly helping. Whether Edward changes his mind later or not is irrelevant if he gets in enough public displays of "the new Ed" to destroy that foundation.
My read when I first watched Izzy lash out in the cabin was that he was resigning again. Basically: "You are acting like someone I don't recognize right now, making decisions that will ruin any chance for either of us to recover from this, and I'm not interested in watching it happen!" He waited for Edward to get better like usual and everything just got exponentially worse instead. And then Edward, of course, snaps and reveals that the mask is a mask, and Izzy has to recalibrate.
Not that he gets much of a chance to before Edward does his own reflecting and decides this identity isn't making things better either, so he's going to go hard in the opposite, angrier direction.
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marveliciousloki · 2 years
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Wanda & Loki | Character Arc Parallels
I've seen people's compare Wanda and Loki a lot lately, and... Actually yeah they're basically the same arc but changing the order a little.
Rough childhood / Origin Story
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Okay, I couldn't find a gif of lil' Wanda being... Scarred for life, but you get my point, both had a really sad beginning. Wanda had an arguably happy childhood despite growing up in a war zone, that is until whatever warlord threw a missile in a civil area.
Despite Loki having no memory of his sad origin, his is debatably worse, since it's only thanks to Odin that he did not perish due to abandonment. And in the Asgardian household he was loved, sure, but he grew up in the shadow of the real heir to the throne.
Gone Apeshit because of grief
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Here I include Pietro, because it's because of their shared trauma both submit to the experiments that gave them their powers to fuck shit up, resulting in the death of a lot of people.
For Loki, it took him a lot more to become a hero, given he was a villain for his first two appearances (Thor 2011 and The Avengers 2012) he is absolutely almost destroying Jotunheim and killing about a 100 people under Thanos' command.
Wanda then goes back and forth between villain, hero, fugitive and full on villain, while Loki went from hero, to villain, to anti-hero to full on hero.
Bonus points because both use mind stone derived abilities (the scepter and Wanda's power) to create chaos by infuriating poor Hulk.
Hit rock bottom when exposed to a very powerful but mind controlling item
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I've mentioned this before, it was confirmed the mind stone had brainwashed Loki by feeding himself resentments exponentially, kinda like the Darkhold corrupted Wanda. Like, yeah, they're mildly aware of their actions, but they get blind with rage and while that doesn't justify their actions, it means they're not bad down their core.
Lost the Relative they were closest to, which triggered them to become full-on heroes
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Loki killed his birth father, who knows what happened to the mother, lost Frigga which I'm pretty sure he blames himself for it (which is why Mobius says "like you killed your mother" he was playing with that guilt), and then lost Odin, and he probably blames himself for it if he "hadn't cast that spell on him, he'd be alive". But back to Frigga a little bit, it's thanks to her sacrifice that Loki gets that push he needed to become an antihero
And damn, Wanda lost... everyone, her parents to a warlord using Stark tech (and taught it had been the latter), Pietro to Ultron which I'm still guilty about, Vision at least 3 times so far and twice at her own hands, the twins sort of twice two... but despite loosing her family she always knows when she makes a mistake and is willing to make sacrifices.
Use powers to escape reality
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This is the first main difference between their arcs stands, thanks to the nature of their own powers Loki's maladaptive daydream is harmless being purely illusory, while Wanda has reality warping powers that she was just realizing she had (prior to this her powers were limited to prestidigitation, energy beams and minor mind manipulation).
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heffrondriving · 2 years
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how about this big brain idea : kendall has two hands? so jo on the right and carlos to the left.
they are dating one another. sorry i don't make the rules around here. just kendall with both his girlfriend and boyfriend.
that's it. that's all i have. (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*.✧
okay why was i momentarily concerned when i first read the phrase "kendall has two hands" gjfjfjk i need to throw my rotted brain in the garbage disposal i think (눈_눈)
OMG YES FR BC I HONESTLY THOUGHT OF THAT TOO!!!!! the only thing that held me back from fully selling myself into it is that i'm not really sure i could see carlos and jo together romantically??? yes even with my foolish penchant for the rarest of pairs ever to rarepair in this dangt fandom *cries over the four i'm singlehandedly carrying rn* idk but they are just like. sibling-vibes Besties to me or smth. is that a hot take or ;/ but alternatively if you mean another ot3 scenario where kendall is a shared boyfriend between jo and carlos then yo that'd be pretty sick actually THE ULTIMATE KENDALL KNIGHT BISEXUAL EXPERIENCE SIGN ME TF UP!!! 💗💜💙 IMAGINE HOW CHAOTIC THAT IS.....THE INSANE POTENTIAL.…..I'M THINKING BIG TIME CRUSH OR BIG TIME RESCUE BUT EVEN WORSE BC THE SINGLE FUNCTIONAL BRAINCELL IS ALSO SHARED BETWEEN THE TRIO AJAJAJAJ
and now presenting a Dumb Thing i slammed out in five minutes smack dab in the middle of office hours entitled...
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̥۪͙۪˚┊ ❛ SHARING IS CARING ❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
Jo: Hey, it's my turn with Kendall now!
Carlos: What?! Unfairrr you already had him for like fifteen minutes longer yesterday!
Jo: Well duh, we were watching a movie, Los. What do you want us to do, not finish the ending?
Carlos: Hmph, I guess not...but you never even thought to invite me to your supertastic sleepover or whatever...
Jo: It was Stephanie's new Gore Galore of the Graveyard Ghoul movie, which means you'd get awful nightmares if you watched it aaand probably use that as an excuse to solo-cuddle Kendall and hog him for the rest of the night, which would actually be unfair.
Carlos: What??? N-noooo pssshh I haha, I wouldn't...do...such an evil scheme...*nervously slaps at helmet*
Jo: Anyway, we're even because you totally snuck in way more kisses anyway—and I would know because Kendall's breath smelled like corndogs all day.
Carlos: You don't hear me complaining when Ken-ken's breath has an oniony stink to it!
Jo: *gasps scandalously*
Carlos: Yeah, like that. Wait—what are you—
Jo: *smiles sweetly as she grabs Carlos's arm and easily judo-slams him onto the carpet*
Kendall: h e l p
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SJKDSJK THIS IS PURE CRACK IDFK WHAT I'M WRITING ANYMORE I'M SO SORRY EVERYONE HAD TO WITNESS THIS UTTER DEGENERACY 💀 though srs if i end up writing this ot3 fic i'm entirely blaming it on you maddy hehe (๏็ટૄ◟๏็ ) but i have to actually write first in order to accomplish that miracle,,, more at eleven folks *sobs shakes screams at exponential piles of unfinished wip drafts i'm miserably drowning under*
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jmbringitonworld · 2 years
Text
Unexpected Benefits of Becoming a Swamp Witch (2)
AO3 link for those who prefer to read fics there
Chapter 1
Finally, here's the promised fluff!
At over 12k words, this is, by quite a bit, my longest ever chapter. If I wasn't so determined to have this be the final chapter, I definitely would've spilt it up, because this was a chore to get through. It feels like I've been writing this forever, and I've honestly gotten just a little bit sick of it by this point. I also think this chapter might've driven me just the tiniest bit insane, but that's fine. I'm just SO glad to have finally finished it!
I've got a cold right now, and my head hurts, so I'm not sure exactly how I feel about this chapter. But I'm pretty sure that if my head were clearer, I'd be incredibly proud of what I've managed to get out. This was a lot of hard work, and, personally, I feel like it's paid of. Of course, you, the reader, are perfectly entitled to feel differently. I'll leave it up to you to decide, but I hope that this chapter was worth the wait, and that you enjoy it.
Skull and Forest God Au belong to @llamagoddessofficial
__________________________________________
Chapter 2: Living with the Consequences
I was wrong. Very wrong.
His interest in me did not, in fact, diminish in the following days, months, or even years. Quite the contrary – his feelings for me only grew, exponentially, over time.
And slowly, subtly, surprisingly... so did mine.
~~~
It was getting late, and my two familiars had left to go hunting, so I decided to put off all thoughts of the infatuated Wetland God, and what I would do about him, ‘til the next day. The tree hollow wasn’t the most luxurious of bedrooms, but it was cushioned on all sides by an abundance of pillows and blankets, so I would at least be comfortable and warm throughout the night. Besides, I’d slept in rougher spots than this during my travels, and I had honestly been expecting far worse for my first few weeks here, until I could build my own witch’s cottage.
Trying to ignore Skull’s besotted expression, I turned my back to him and dug through my satchel, searching for some rations I’d packed for my dinner. My hands fell upon a large, wrapped package, still warm and smelling strongly of honey. I gave a start, as I recalled the honey cake I’d baked, as an offering to the Wetland God. With all the excitement and confusion of the day, I’d completely forgotten to give it to him.
Daring a peek over my shoulder, I caught a glimpse of Skull’s red eyelight, shining brightly in the growing gloom of the evening, its pupil still heart-shaped. His mouth was stretched in a wide smile, soft and sappy, in spite of the wickedly-sharp teeth lining his jaws.
I looked back at the cake, feeling that crimson gaze continuing to burn a hole in my back. If I gave Skull the cake now, he might take it as a sign of my ‘affections’. My brows furrowed, indecision gripping my mind. It wouldn’t do to encourage the deity’s attention, flattering though it may be. But still...
I chanced another glance at him. He was still staring at me, adoration written all across his skull and radiating from his magic. His face brightened when he noticed my gaze, his magic buzzing excitedly in the air. I hastily looked away.
He’d definitely be happy to receive my offering. I pursed my lips, as I imagined the joyful expression he’d likely make, how much more electrified his magic would become. Given the horror stories I’d been told by the townsfolk, I was certain that Skull hadn’t received an offering in years, if not centuries. He really would be happy if I were to give him one now.
I sighed heavily, my shoulders falling, before I drew myself back up, my face set with determination. Skull had shown me nothing but kindness since I arrived in his domain. The very least I could do, was to show him a bit of kindness in return, and give him the cake that I’d already baked for him. Firming my resolve, I grabbed the honey cake with both hands and marched straight toward him.
Skull shifted from foot to foot as I approached him, looking for all the world like a gigantic, skeletal puppy, eager for his owner’s attention. I cleared my throat and held out the cake, uncovering it to show him what I’d brought him.
“I baked this for you, Skull, as an offering. It’s a honey cake. I hope it pleases you.” I offered him a polite smile, showing none of the doubts plaguing my thoughts, and braced myself for what I assumed would be an overzealous reaction, given how he’d acted so far.
But I received no such reaction. In fact, I hardly received any reaction at all.
Skull stared at my cake with a strangely blank look, the widening of his eyelight being the only indication of the shock he seemed to be experiencing. His mouth opened, but after a few seconds without a word being said, it closed again, only to reopen several heartbeats later.
After a minute of watching Skull’s muted gawking at my cake, I could stand the awkward silence no longer. “What’s wrong? Do-... do you not like the cake?”
That finally got a reaction, as Skull’s head snapped toward me. “NO!... no... i... i... i love it... so much... it... thank you... i... thank... you...”
Then, to my utter horror, large tears started gathering along the corners of Skull’s eye sockets, eventually tipping over and dripping down his skull. Panic clawed at my chest, as the God of the Wetland continued to cry, a low, keening whine filling the air.
I shifted the cake to one arm, and used the other to stroke Skull’s wet muzzle. “There, there...” I murmured to him, as comfortingly as I could, with only the slightest edge of panic to my voice. “Oh dear, please don’t cry, sweetheart...! It’s all right, there’s no need for tears. Please, Skull, eat this cake. I baked it especially for you!”
I held the cake out once more, a pleading smile on my face. Skull’s tears finally seemed to slow down, although they didn’t stop completely. He sniffed loudly, then nudged me, very gently, with the tip of his snout.
“i can’t... eat this... it’s a... gift... from you... it’s too... precious... to eat... i will... cherish it... forever...” he insisted, voice as wobbly as his red eyelight.
I huffed a sigh. “It’s a cake. It’s meant to be eaten! That’s why I baked it.” I barely held back an eyeroll, exasperation leaking into my voice.
However, Skull refused to budge. The tears still steadily falling down his skull didn’t seem like they’d stop any time soon, so out of desperation, I finally told him, “Fine! I’ll bake you more cakes! If you eat this one and cheer up, then I will definitely bake you all the honey cakes you want in the future. Okay? Please?”
That seemed to give him pause. Skull stood in silence for a few seconds, contemplating my offer, before he finally nodded his head. “all... right... if that’s what... you want... and if you’ll... give me... more... you will... give me more... right...?”
I instantly nodded to him. “Absolutely! Lots more cake, just for you! And anything else you want me to cook for you!”
In hindsight, that was probably a reckless vow to make, one that could easily be taken advantage of. Still, Skull seemed satisfied, and his weeping finally ceased. He opened his mouth wide and looked at me expectantly. Getting the message, I tossed the entire cake into Skull’s gaping maw, and watched it snap shut. I neither saw nor heard any chewing, but the Wetland God made several appreciative sounds, which soon devolved into more purring.
Crisis averted, I sighed, my shoulders sagging. I’d come dangerously close to making a promise I wasn’t fully certain I’d be able to keep, and I’d probably only reinforced Skull’s troublesome expectations of me and our relationship. I was really beginning to regret offering that stupid cake to him.
And yet... as Skull continued to purr, his magic humming in contentment, I couldn’t deny the warmth blooming in my chest. An involuntary smile curled onto my face, at the deity’s blissful expression. As I’d expected, he definitely was happy to receive my offering.
~~~
The next morning, I awoke to the beautiful singing of songbirds. Snuggled in warm blankets and soft pillows, I yawned, languidly stretching out my body. Feeling refreshed and well rested, I opened my eyes, ready to greet the new day.
And was greeted, instead, by Skull’s massive head, staring at me from the hollow’s entrance, his single ruby eyelight fixed unblinkingly on my face.
I suppressed a flinch, as memories of the previous day came flooding back to me. Right. I had yet another admirer to deal with. One I couldn’t dismiss as easily as I could all of the previous ones. Forcing away the urge to bury my head beneath my blanket and go right back to sleep, I dragged myself out of my cosy nest and got up.
Skull perked up, leaning his head toward me to nuzzle me, with a gentleness belying his tremendous size. The glow of his red eyelight softened, beginning to shimmer, the pupil once again becoming heart-shaped.
Reflexively, I reached out to pet his muzzle, receiving a purr in return. I probably shouldn’t have been indulging the Wetland God like this, but something about his earnest desire for my affection was too endearing for me to resist. Skull let out several cute little chirps, in between his constant purring, and unable to help myself, I leaned forward to wrap my arms around his wide snout as best as I could. The purring only intensified at the hug.
“Good morning, Skull,” I mumbled against his bones. I didn’t ask him whether he’d been stood there, staring at me all night, just silently watching me sleep. I was afraid of the answer.
“yes... it is!... such a... very... very good... morning... with you... here with me...” he rumbled back, his deep, gravelly voice managing to sound incredibly tender, and full of joy. “i’ve been... all alone... for so... so long... but not... anymore... not now that... i have you...” He beamed at me, his eyelight practically sparkling in its socket. “i’m so... happy... i love you... so much... my wife... my mate... my love...”
He sounded so sincere, so genuine, as he spoke of his ‘love’ for me, that I couldn’t prevent heat from spreading across my cheeks. I pressed my face to Skull’s, trying to hide the flush in my cheeks, feeling more embarrassed than I had in a very long time. I’d never blushed before, like some shy, simpering girl-child. It was undignified. Mortifying. And utterly unbecoming of a powerful sorceress.
Stepping away from Skull, I turned my back to him and cast my eyes all around me for something to focus on, beside the sad, pitiful whine of a lovesick Forest God. However, there was nothing to see in the tree hollow, except for the piles of blankets and pillows, and the various little human trinkets strewn about the place. This simple den was also unbefitting of a powerful sorceress.
Mind made up, I faced Skull again, and announced my intentions. “Skull, while your nest is very, uh, charming, it’s too small and basic for a witch like me to live and work in. I need a proper home. Would you happen to know of a spot where I may construct for myself a witch’s cottage?”
The Wetland God didn’t look too happy with my request. He fidgeted, pawing lightly at the thick tree roots, eyelight dimming, and let out an anxious-sounding whine. “but... nest is... for mate... you can’t go... somewhere else... mate must... stay in... our nest...!”
His fidgeting got worse, and a few of the flowers on his legs and horns wilted. I bit my lip, unsure how to convince him to let me leave, without him getting too upset. Forest Gods were creatures of instinct, first and foremost, and the last thing I wanted was to trigger Skull’s more possessive instincts. Suddenly, he lifted his head, his eyelight shining brightly with hope.
“i can... make nest... better...for you...!” he eagerly proposed. “i can... make it bigger... can change it... for you...!”
I hesitated, feeling sceptical about his idea, uncertain whether his magic was stable enough for such complicated alterations to the giant tree, but his pleading expression was hard to deny. With a resigned sigh, I nodded my head.
“Very well, I accept your offer,” I conceded, to which he beamed at me, his eyelight almost glittering within his eye socket. “I’ll assist you with my own magic, of course. Together, we should hopefully be able to fashion a suitable house out of this tree.”
 I tried to inject as much confidence into my voice as I could, if only to dispel my own doubts. Skull looked excited and relieved, shifting his considerable weight from foot to foot, his large head swaying slightly.
“yes...! together...!” he agreed, very enthusiastically.
Then, tossing his head back, Skull let out an ear-splittingly loud bellow, shaking the ground and the trees with the force of his roar, and causing the water to ripple outwards. I covered my ears, shrinking back and away from him.
The Wetland God’s magical aura spread out from him, filling the air, and coating the surrounding area, concentrating on the giant tree in particular. As the ancient and powerful Nature Magic seeped into the tree, it started growing, its branches lengthening and its trunk thickening, the hollow expanding along with it.
I retreated to Skull’s side, to observe the transformation. It wasn’t... exactly what I was hoping for... But it was a start. Filled with determination, I sent out my own magic, entwining it very carefully with Skull’s, and guided his wild magic to where I needed it to go. Skull’s magic responded eagerly, if clumsily, to my direction, and together, we slowly shaped the tree into a form more suitable for my needs.
I smiled to myself. Yes, Skull and I would be able to make this tree into a home. Together.
And over the next several days, we set about doing just that.
It took a lot of time, work, and dedication, but the two of us devoted ourselves completely to the lengthy and arduous task of transforming the giant tree into a treehouse (or rather, a tree-cottage). At the end of the day, I was often magically drained, both from having to guide Skull’s chaotic and untamed magic, and from having to cast various spells for the more delicate and finicky adjustments, as well as physically exhausted, from the manual jobs that magic could not accomplish. But I was also incredibly proud of our achievement.
We were making steady progress, and I knew that soon, much sooner than I had anticipated, I would have my forever home.
~~~
A cottage was not all that I required, however. At my request, Skull raised a sizeable chunk of land above the water, beside the den, to serve as my garden. The soil there was fertile and saturated in potent Nature Magic, so anything that was planted in it was sure to thrive. On top of the usual fruits and vegetables, I’d also planted various flowers and herbs for potion-making.
Additionally, Skull kept encouraging moths, bees, and other pollinators to visit my garden. The bees, in particular, gave me an idea of how I could express my gratitude to the Wetland God, for all of his invaluable help. It took me most of an afternoon, but I managed to craft a large, wooden apiary. Then, I used an insect charm to lure a queen honey bee into settling inside it.
After a few of days, and many enchantments, I had a rapidly growing colony of bees, to help pollinate my garden, and to produce honey, which I then used to bake cakes and other sweet treats for Skull. I had told him that I would bake him more honey cakes, after all. Thankfully, his reactions to my offerings weren’t as alarming as his first one, even if he was no less delighted, each time I gave him one. Moreover, I also discovered that the Wetland God was especially fond of warm, freshly-baked bread, soaked in honey.
Occasionally, though, I’d come across a flower in my garden which I was certain I hadn’t planted myself. They were always vibrantly colourful, but were otherwise completely useless to me and had no beneficial properties whatsoever. It seemed obvious to me that Skull had grown them, likely as an attempt to please me. While I did appreciate his thoughtfulness, I didn’t want useless flowers taking up room in my garden, so I removed them each time I spotted one.
Nevertheless, I didn’t have the heart to just toss away Skull’s gifts. I could only too easily picture the look of heartbreak he’d give me, and it made my chest ache, for reasons I couldn’t explain. It was frustrating, and almost made me want to throw away the flowers, just to spite the feeling. However, I merely put Skull’s flowers in one of my taller chalices, one made out of clear crystal. I placed the makeshift flower vase by one of the windows I’d recently installed in the side of the tree, and it made for an aesthetically pleasing sight, if nothing else.
It didn’t take long for me to run out of space for the flowers, though, and I had to get a little creative about where to stuff anymore I kept finding. I was sorely tempted to ask Skull to stop growing flowers I didn’t want in my garden, but the thought of his disappointed expression made me hold my tongue. It was just a minor inconvenience, anyhow, and certainly not worth complaining to an Old God about, especially not one as emotional as Skull.
One day, however, one of Skull’s flowers did manage to catch my eye. It was a rare blossom, and toxic if consumed, but its pollen was used in many regenerative potions, so I decided to let it stay in my garden. I even gathered some of its seeds, to grow more of this valuable specimen. Skull had evidently noticed my interest in this particular flower, as the next morning, I found more of them growing in my garden.
From then on, each time I showed any interest in a specific flower, by the following day, more of them would have appeared. This then extended to any herbs or fungi I found in the swamp, and brought home with me. Furthermore, whenever I caught an insect or other small critter for my potions, or collected ingredients from the local wildlife, such as those alligator teeth I’d been eyeing that first day, I’d come across even more of them afterwards, as I explored the swamp.
Skull was clearly always paying attention to me, and his attentiveness warmed my heart more than I cared to admit. And he was never overt or demonstrative with these gifts, either. While he was very open about his feelings for me, and never hesitated to declare his love for me or to nuzzle me, calling me his “wife” and “mate”, his gifts to me were always subtle, and he never drew attention to them, as if he were shy about giving them to me directly.
And I never thanked him openly, either. Despite appreciating his gifts more than I ever had anyone else’s, the thought of expressing my gratitude to him so plainly, so sincerely, left me feeling a little too... vulnerable. So instead, I baked him more cakes. And biscuits. And pies. And whatever else I thought he might enjoy.
And each time I would give them to him, he’d have the most heartfelt look of joy and wonder on his face, in spite of his lack of facial muscles, and his magic would thrum so happily, so excitedly, that it felt like an even greater gift than all of the flowers in my garden.
~~~
The plants and other potions ingredients weren’t the only present Skull would leave for me, however.
The Wetland God kept coaxing pretty insects and colourful birds to the area around my home. While Artemis enjoyed playing with the insects, especially the dragonflies, much to their distress, Hermes didn’t take kindly to the other birds showing off on what he now considered his territory, and never failed to chase them all away the moment he spotted one.
Skull seemed more than a little downhearted about that. But he never complained, or tried to stop my familiars, and instead, kept attracting more visually appealing wildlife to my home, in the hopes that I would appreciate them. Well, I appreciated the effort, at least. For being such a fearsome and often violent Forest God, who had killed countless humans in the past several centuries, he could be surprisingly sweet.
Besides his other, natural gifts, Skull also started leaving me shiny trinkets and glittering jewellery. I was initially baffled as to where he could’ve possibly gotten these man-made objects from, before discovering the answer from one such present.
One of the rings was especially ornate, with a large, glimmering gemstone in the centre, surrounded by smaller, clear jewels, which I presumed to be diamonds. More interestingly, though, I noticed that it bore an inscription on the inside, which read “To R, with everlasting love, C”. I realised, then, that Skull had taken all of these items off of the intruders he’d drowned in the bog.
I shrugged, and tied a string to the ring, hanging it up from a nearby branch, where it caught the sunlight and sparkled magnificently. Waste not, want not, after all. Besides, it wasn’t like these items’ original owners would need their things anymore.
Skull looked pleased, when he noticed that I’d made use of his gift. I found more jewellery the next day. It took a while to wash off the mud and tar still stuck to them, but they made very beautiful decorations for my new home.
~~~
One thing I couldn’t help but notice, regarding Skull, was that throughout my time in the swamp, I’d often spot him conversing with alligators, or various marsh birds. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, obviously, and it left me intrigued.
Hermes was the one to enlighten me, when I voiced my curiosity. He’s asking them for advice. On how to woo you.
Well that was a surprise.
And also... rather adorable.
Sitting on the lip of wood at the entrance to my home, I glanced over at Skull. He seemed to be watching very intently, as a heron cawed loudly at him, spreading its wings and extending its neck, displaying its plumage, and snapping its bill rather aggressively. I stifled a laugh as Skull proceeded to rip a branch off of a nearby tree, and presented it to the heron, who then nodded at him, apparently deeming the Wetland God’s efforts satisfactory.
I shook my head, unable to keep the smile off of my face, as fondness settled itself in my heart. He really was adorable, sometimes.
Still smiling, I turned to my familiars. “Has Skull ever come to you two for help, or advice on how to, heh, win my heart?” I asked them, although internally, I suspected I already knew the answer. As well as exactly how much help Skull would’ve received from them.
Hermes bristled his feathers. He has. I refused. I would never betray Mistress’s secrets.
Artemis didn’t even bother to look up, as she groomed herself meticulously. He did... I ignored him...
I snorted, my smile turning wry. Just as I thought. No help whatsoever.
But then I paused, as a curious thought came to me. What would it take to win my heart? Countless people had tried, for most of my life, all without success. Not a single person had come even close to earning my affections. I knew, then, what didn’t work. But I’d never given a thought as to what would.
My brows furrowed, as it suddenly hit me that I had no idea what would make me fall in love with someone, no idea what would be able to finally melt the walls of ice I’d erected around my heart.
A shadow suddenly fell over me and I looked up.
Skull was standing in front of me, just outside the entrance (thankfully, without the tree branch, stars knew what I would do with it). I was getting much better at reading his expressions, and I could tell that he looked troubled. His magical aura was tinged with want and frustration and worry.
I reached up to pet his snout, dragging my nails gently along hard bone, and he calmed down immediately, his magic settling into a pleasant hum. “What’s wrong, Skull?”
The giant creature let out a low, unhappy sound, and pressed his nose into my touch. “want to hold you... want to hug you... want to cuddle... soft wife... but can’t... like this... too big... might hurt you...”
I wanted to coo at him, because that was so cute, and so like him, but I managed to restrain myself. Instead, I gave him a commiserating smile and pet him harder. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You are just a bit too big for cuddles, I’m afraid.”
His face fell and, unable to resist the urge, I leaned forward to place a kiss to the end of his snout.
His red eyelight lit up like a bonfire and his magic buzzed. The tension in his gaze intensified considerably, and he seemed to be focusing very hard on something. I could sense his magic condensing, his vast, powerful aura compressing and compacting in on itself. I gave a start, as Skull’s form shimmered, and then gradually began to shrink and mutate.
When everything had settled, Skull stood before me, not as a gigantic, monstrous Wetland God, but as something a lot smaller, and lot more... humanoid.
I gazed in awe at Skull’s new form.
His magic was too unstable for him to assume a fully human form, so instead, he appeared to be a huge, hulking, humanoid skeleton. His bones sported many chips and cracks, including a particularly big, jagged hole on top of his skull, a testament to his damaged psyche, but he was still altogether whole, and in one single, solid piece. The clothes he wore were ripped and ragged, their colour faded, but looked very soft, and even a little fluffy.
Skull’s expression was strained, his stance awkward, but the smile he gave me was tentatively hopeful. “it’s... hard... for me to... contain... my magic... in such a... small body... but now i can... hug you... please?... wife??”
There was nothing I could say to such an earnest request, besides, “Of course you can, dear.”
His expression brightened immensely, his entire body practically lighting up with joy, and I spread my arms invitingly. “Come here, Skull.”
Without wasting a single second, he stumbled towards me and wrapped his big arms around me, drawing me close to his broad chest and nuzzling the top of my head. Despite being much smaller than before, he still easily dwarfed me, and I was almost smothered by his hug. Still, I couldn’t find it in me to complain, or pull away.
His embrace was tight, and so very new and unfamiliar to me, but it was surprisingly gentle, and warm, and soft. Pressed up against him like this, I felt small, and delicate, but so, so precious.
With his magic brushing against me, radiating tenderness and affection, his rumbling purrs vibrating through me, and his strong, solid body all around me, I felt myself relax, leaning back into his hold. I practically melted in Skull’s arms, a delicious warmth seeping into my heart.
I felt so cherished, so loved. It was a wonderful feeling. One I never wanted to let go off.
~~~
Eventually, all of mine and Skull’s hard work paid off, and my tree-cottage was finally completed.
The original hollow had been expanded into a spacious, circular living room, complete with a fully-functional kitchen and dining area. Some stairs along the wall led to a second floor, which I’d designated as my study, and my potion-brewing space. The walls were all fully lined with shelves, completely taken up by either potion ingredients, magical instruments, or ancient tomes, as were the many desks and tables spread out wherever possible. A massive cauldron took pride of place in the centre. Another set of stairs was squeezed in amongst all of the magical paraphernalia, leading up to my bedroom, which also served as my observatory.
All in all, I was extremely satisfied with what the both of us had managed to accomplish, in such a short amount of time.
To celebrate, I baked another honey cake. Skull enjoyed the cake, while I enjoyed having a proper home, at long last. Even my familiars were pleased with our new living quarters.
It finally felt like the beginning of a promising, peaceful new life, the kind I’d always been longing for. And, for the first time since I’d stepped foot in the wetlands, I could finally say with complete confidence that I’d made the right choice, all along.
I was... hopeful. And... happy. Skull was happy, too.
The future was looking bright.
~~~
Now that I’d fully settled into life in the swamp, and completed construction on my tree-cottage, I decided it was time I got myself officially registered with the local Mage’s Guild, so that I could begin accepting clients and contracts again. A witch needed to earn a living after all, and I was getting bored and restless, without anything pressing to do.
Skull was predictably upset about my leaving, but I’d managed to convince him that it was important to me, and, after many, many reassurances that no, I wasn’t leaving him forever, and yes, I would definitely return to him, the clingy deity finally relented and allowed me to leave.
He still kept begging me to reconsider, though. I hadn’t thought a dog skull could look that sad and pitiful, but Skull always managed to surprise me, in the most unexpected ways. Truthfully, it was almost enough to make me give in to his pleas, but I firmed my resolve and pushed on.
The Old God escorted me out of his wetland, moping the entire way, and howled miserably when I finally stepped outside of his territory, and flew off into the horizon on my broom. His mournful wails followed me for a long time.
~~~
The headquarters of the Mage’s Guild were, naturally, within an ancient and massive castle, centred around a tall and imposing Sorcerer’s Tower. The accumulated, residual magic of generations upon generations of sorcerers saturated the entire area, sinking into the ground, and seeping into the rune-covered stone walls of the castle. You could practically taste the magic in the air.
It was a heady feeling, being in such a remarkable place.
Given what an eminent witch my mother had been, I was instantly welcomed into the Guild, and directed to go present myself officially to the Guild’s Master, while my familiars were taken to be registered in the Magical Menagerie.
The Guildmaster was a mage of very few words, and shrouded in mystery. They were widely regarded as being a sorcerer of considerable skill and power, second only to my late mother, and had quickly risen to the top of the Guild within only a handful of years. While their achievements were universally acclaimed, precious little was known about them personally, beyond the fact that they’d forsaken much in their pursuit of arcane and esoteric knowledge.
Even their own name.
They were also the only human, in the entire world, whom I respected, and even admired.
~~~
My registration was completed swiftly and efficiently, as was expected of someone as competent as the Guildmaster. They spoke coolly, and without inflection in their voice, as they questioned me on my magical abilities and specific talents. That, coupled with their calm, impassive demeanour, gave very little away regarding their thoughts.
It was honestly a bit intimidating, being in their presence.
But also, incredibly fascinating.
When the interview came to an end, I stared pensively at them, as they gathered all of their materials, with precise, economical movements.
“Have you ever been in love?” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them.
I bit my lip, shocked at myself. What had possessed me to ask the Guildmaster such a personal question? And why on the subject of love, of all things?
The slight widening of their eyes, and the stuttering of their movements, were the only indications that the Guildmaster had heard me. They carried on with their task, as before, putting away all of their things in various trunks and desk drawers. As always, their inscrutable countenance, and deep, impenetrable eyes, gave nothing away.
The silence stretched on, until it got very uncomfortable, and just as I was about to open my mouth to apologise and change the subject, the Guildmaster finally gave me an answer. And it wasn’t the one I’d been expecting.
“Once. Briefly. Years ago,” they revealed, their voice as emotionless as ever, despite the subject matter. “But we had... differing priorities. So we parted ways.”
To say that that came as a surprise to me would be an understatement. The Guildmaster was well-known as an individual singularly focused on the pursuit of knowledge, who cared very little for anything not relating to their magical studies. They’d discarded all earthly attachments, and had immersed themself so fully in their research and their craft, that it was rumoured that they were now more magical spirit, than flesh-and-blood human.
Moreover, mages were solitary people by nature, generally choosing to remain isolated from the mundane for our own safety, and only coming together with fellow sorcerers to conduct trade, or to exchange knowledge we deemed important enough to share with the wider world. We otherwise kept mostly to ourselves, passing on our craft and family magics from mother to daughter, or from father to son.
I would never have guessed that one of the most mysterious and reclusive sorcerers in the world, would have ever sought companionship, let alone love. I honestly thought they were beyond such needs, or desires. Although, it seemed that, in the end, they were.
“Do you... ever regret it?... Any of it?” I couldn’t help but ask the Guildmaster, my voice quiet and unusually hesitant.
For a split second, I could’ve sworn I saw a brief flash of emotion flit across their face, but it was gone before I could be sure. I dismissed the thought. It was probably nothing more than a figment of my imagination.
“Regrets are pointless,” they affirmed, voice even as ever. “To dwell on the past, is to squander the present, and to sacrifice the future.”
They fell silent, and I thought our discussion over. But suddenly, they turned to me and fixed me with an oddly serious, and meaningful stare. “Which is why, no matter what you do, no matter what you choose, above all else, make sure that you do not regret your decisions.”
Unable to do anything else, I nodded. Seemingly satisfied with my response, they turned away, and the conversation ended there.
~~~
With all of my business with the Guild concluded, I prepared to take my leave, anxious to return home again. New witch’s licence in hand, I went to collect my two familiars from the Menagerie, and then retrieved my broom. Just before departing, however, the Guildmaster themself came to see me off.
“I am glad for the chance to have met you,” they told me, catching me off guard. I truly hadn’t thought that they would care about my presence here, one way or another. I still didn’t have quite the same reputation my mother had, after all. “You look well. And you seem happy. Good. It is what your mother would have wanted.”
And with those final, perplexing words, the Guildmaster disappeared back into the central Tower. I stared after them for a while, unsure what to think about our bizarre interaction, before I shook my head, banishing the encounter from my mind, and sat myself on my broomstick. Once Artemis was snuggled safely in my bag, and Hermes was securely perched on my hat, I then rushed us home, as fast as my broom could carry us.
I had a lonely husband to return to.
When I finally reached the Wetland, I kept flying, eager to get back to my home as quickly as possible. As I soared over the wetlands, though, I saw that most of the greenery had withered, and much of the landscape had been taken over by bog once more. Not a single flower remained. My heart squeezed painfully in my chest, at seeing how much my presence had clearly been missed.
Skull was there to greet me, before I had even made it to our tree-cottage nest. He called out to me, a sharp, high keen, his magic filled with excitement and overwhelming relief. I descended at once, and hoped off my broom, landing right on top of his massive head. Without pause, I immediately crouched down and threw my arms around him, pressing my lips to his skull in a firm kiss.
The air crackled and sparked with his magic, like electricity, sending tingles down my spine. Tiny flowers bloomed across Skull’s antlers, along his legs, and on the trees all around us.
“never... leave me... again...” he begged me, his voice trembling with emotion. “please... please don’t... ever leave me... alone... please... promise me that... you won’t... please...”
There were a million things I could say to that. But, for the first time in my life, I listened to my heart. “I won’t, Skull. I promise.”
His answering smile was all I needed, to know that this was one decision that I definitely would not regret.
~~~
There was one last, major decision left for me to make. A decision that would change my life more than any other I’d ever made. A decision that I could not afford to regret.
With a steaming cup of herbal tea in hand, I took a seat in front of the largest table in my study, and observed the ruby-red stone sat upon it with a critical eye. It was a rather innocuous-looking rock, about the size of my fist, transparent and glass-like, and coloured a deep, dark red. The average, non-magical human would probably assume it was nothing more than a hunk of coloured glass. But anyone with any magical ability whatsoever would be able to tell, at a glance, exactly what this stone was, and just how precious it truly was.
This was a Philosopher’s Stone.
A stone capable of transmuting base metals into gold, and which could produce the Elixir of Life, a mystical, miraculous potion able to cure any illness, heal any injury, and which could grant the drinker eternal life and youth.
It was, perhaps, my mother’s greatest achievement, or, at least, one of them, and was certainly her Magnum Opus as an alchemist. She’d dedicated years of her life to creating this legendary artefact, and when she’d finally succeeded, it had earned her untold fame within the magical community, since previously, only three other people had ever managed to create one. Mother had even gone on to share many of her findings with the scholars and researchers at the Mage’s Guild, in the hopes of furthering magekind’s understanding of alchemy, and its vast and innumerable possibilities.
She’d taken the Stone with her when she’d left the Guild, to go live a quiet life in an enchanted forest, after becoming pregnant with me, and I’d inherited it when she’d passed away. Neither of us had ever used it, though. We’d both been competent enough witches to accomplish all that we wanted to, without it. Mother hadn’t created the Philosopher’s Stone out of any great need or desire for its incredible properties. She’d simply done it to prove that she could.
But now, I did have a use for it.
A noise from outside drew my attention to one of the windows. With one last glance to the Stone, I tore my eyes away from it, and stood up. My feet carried me over to the window, and I looked outside, my lips automatically tilting up into a smile at the sight below.
Skull was returning from his patrol of the outer edges of his territory, and the swamp’s residents were welcoming him back. Hermes was hovering above him, having accompanied him on his patrol, but when my avian familiar spotted me, he gave a sharp cry to the Wetland God, before flying towards me. I hastily opened the window, just in time for Hermes to swoop in. He circled the room a few times, before finally landing atop one of the bookshelves.
Looking out the window again, I saw that Skull had noticed me as well. His happy expression was plain to see, even from this distance, so I waved to him. He called back to me, his deep, powerful voice making the water ripple, the leaves tremble, and my heart shudder in my chest. I gave him another wave, and a smile, before retreating, back to the Philosopher’s Stone.
I still had a decision to make.
Much had changed since I’d first stepped foot in the wetlands. I now had a home, a proper witch’s cottage to call my own, and I even got on fairly well with all of my new furry, feathery, and scaly neighbours, mostly thanks to Skull’s influence. All in all, I’d settled into life in the swamp far better than I’d ever dared hope for. This place was my home, and I never wanted to leave here.
Even my familiars had settled surprisingly well into their new life in the swamp. While Hermes still chased away any birds who dared venture too close to our home, he’d come to accept Skull as my mate, and even joined the Wetland God on his patrols. I’d often see the tan owl flying beside Skull, or perching himself on the deity’s huge horns.
Artemis, on the other hand, still hadn’t warmed up to Skull, and was content to simply ignore him most of the time. I’d assured a dejected Skull that it wasn’t anything personal, and that the black cat was just very independent, and preferred to keep to herself. Heck, she still wasn’t overly friendly with me, her master.
My feline familiar had finally grown to like the wetlands, however. When she was not curled up on a pillow at home, Missy was often out wandering the swamp, exploring her new territory, usually on the back of whatever poor alligator she’d somehow managed to bully into giving her a ride. While the humans were terrified of the God of the Black Wetland, it was my own black cat whom those actually living in the wetland had grown to fear.
But by far the most significant change, was my relationship with Skull.
I’d originally believed that Skull’s feelings for me were nothing more than a temporary infatuation, brought on solely by his crushing loneliness, and his desperate desire for companionship and love. The deity had been all alone, for centuries, after all. It was no wonder he’d gotten so attached to me, so quickly. But I’d assumed that once the novelty of my presence had worn off, his feelings for me would fade away and disappear.
But I had eventually realised how wrong I was.
The gigantic God of the Wetland had only grown more affectionate towards me over time, which was saying something, considering how obsessively he doted on me ever since we met. He was caring, attentive, thoughtful, and the most devoted creature imaginable. His love for me was evident in every action he took for me, every word he said to me, and every look he gave me. All of my doubts as to the sincerity of his feelings for me had long since vanished, in the face of his unwavering devotion to me. I was loved, and I knew it.
As for my own feelings towards him... they’d evolved, in ways I could not have anticipated. I’d grown to appreciate Skull, and all that he did for me, and cherished his fondness for me. I... cared for him... more than I ever thought possible. More than I ever thought I was even capable of, in all honesty. He made me feel things I never thought I could – warm things, gentle things, tender, soft things. Emotions both terrible and wonderful.
Without my realising, Skull had managed to sneak his way into my heart, and had made it his own.
Heavy footsteps from the floor below alerted me to my guest. I abandoned my musings, and made my way to the ground floor of my home, to go greet my husband.
Skull had once again taken his smaller, humanoid skeleton form, despite how difficult it was for him to maintain, so that he could enter my home safely. He was clearly here for more cuddles. And I was more than happy to oblige him.
As soon as Skull caught sight of me, his face lit up and he beamed at me. His movements awkward, and clumsy, in such an uncomfortable body, he stumbled towards me, arms wide open to receive me. I met him halfway, all but throwing myself into his embrace. Skull’s strong, thick arms encircled me, drawing my close, and pressing me tightly to his clothed rib cage. I wrapped my own arms around him, and smiled up at him.
“Welcome back, dear,” I greeted him, in a warm, tender voice I reserved just for him.
Skull’s already wide smile widened further, his single red eyelight shining brightly. He leaned his head down to nuzzle his face into my hair, low, rumbling purrs echoing from deep inside his chest.
“i... missed you... wife...” he mumbled into my hair, so close to my ear it sent pleasant shivers down my spine.
“I missed you too, husband,” I murmured back, removing one arm from around him, to raise it up to Skull’s face. I placed my hand on his cheekbone, my thumb rubbing gentle circles on his hard bones, and Skull eagerly leaned into my touch.
“you’re so... soft... and warm... and perfect... you smell... so nice... i love you...” he purred into my hand, the pupil of his eyelight becoming heart-shaped with adoration.
My smile softened, an impossibly tender feeling warming my heart, and spreading throughout my chest.
“I love you, too,” I whispered to him, and before he could react, I pulled his head down towards mine, leaning my own face up in tandem, and pressed my lips to his.
Skull froze, his entire body going still and rigid, before his arms tightened around me. Sharp phalanges dug into my skin, almost to the point of pain, but the skeletal deity managed to restrain himself just enough to avoid harming me. With a fierceness that took my breath away, Skull deepened our kiss, his mouth moving against mine with a passion I hadn’t known he was capable of. Small, colourful flowers bloomed all across his body, covering up every crack and every hole scarring his bones, and even filling up the large one on his skull.
As I closed my eyes, and surrendered myself to the emotions swelling within my chest, and the love in Skull’s kiss, I knew that I’d already made my decision. And that I wouldn’t regret it.
I had promised Skull that I would never leave him, after all.
~~~
Time passed, as it always did. But since it no longer affected me, I paid it no mind, and focused instead, on the joy of living.
My life now was peaceful, blissful; sometimes tranquil, sometimes exciting, but always satisfying. My days were full of love, and happiness, like I’d never known, nor dared to dream of.
I was happy. My mate, and husband, was happy. My familiars were happy. Even our wetland home was flourishing, thanks to Skull’s steadily improving mental health, and his overflowing positive emotions.
Everything was perfect, and it seemed like it always would be.
I truly believed that I was living my best life, and that there was nothing at all that could make it better.
... 
And then I became pregnant.
~~~
Discovering that we were going to be parents was more than a little overwhelming. For the both of us. Skull had been all alone, without anyone, for centuries, and I wasn’t much better in that regard, either. Neither of us were very confident that we would be up to the challenge of raising a child.
Those early days were tumultuous. Skull’s instincts went haywire, and he frenziedly tried to make our nest as safe and as comfortable as possible. He added even more pillows and blankets to the tree-cottage, until I could barely walk in my own home, and temporarily banished all of the alligators from the swamp. While Skull knew, on an intellectual level, that the poor reptiles would never hurt me, his protective instincts would not allow any large predators anywhere near me, his mate, while I was with child. The alligators were, understandably, very upset, but had begrudgingly obeyed.
Consequently, the marsh and bog had become even more dangerous for humans to traverse, even as both became more vibrant and alive, thanks to Skull’s huge increase of positive emotions.
Not that I was able to appreciate any of that, however. Given my delicate state, I wasn’t allowed to leave the heart of the swamp. I’d expected that, truthfully, but it was nonetheless mildly annoying. While I had rarely travelled far from the swamp to begin with, I still missed being able to collect potions ingredients, travelling the wetlands with my mate, either riding on his head, or with Skull trailing close behind me like a baby duckling. But a Forest God’s natural instincts could not be denied.
There was one major benefit to my pregnancy, though – Skull made a real effort to use his smaller, humanoid form more often, in spite of how uncomfortable it was for him. Our cuddles were becoming more and more frequent, which more than made up for everything. Being able to hold my husband close to my chest, and feel his arms around me, was worth any inconvenience I had to put up with.
My tree-cottage had also undergone some notable changes. Skull and I had constructed an extra room, attached to the main living area on the ground floor, which would serve as our child’s bedroom. It wasn’t very aesthetically pleasing, and made the giant tree look lopsided at the bottom, but I didn’t want our child to have to pass through the potentially dangerous study/potions area, just to reach their bedroom.
Skull had already started stuffing piles of blankets and pillows inside the new baby room, leaving barely any room for the child’s cot. I let him, reasoning that it was better that he do so there, than elsewhere in the cottage. I’d had to put my foot down, when my mate had tried to blanket my study.
Besides the living arrangements, preparing for our new arrival came with some rather... interesting challenges. All owing to the fact that neither of us knew what species our child would be.
This was because, while mages were considered humans, we were, technically, actually a sub-species of human. As such, we differed from ordinary, non-magical humans in a variety of ways, most notably our ability to use magic. Another difference was that, whether or not a child born to a mage was one themself, all depended on both the magical parent’s biological sex, as well as the child’s.
To be precise, a female child born to a witch would always be a witch, and a male child born to a wizard would always be a wizard (barring any future decision to change one’s sex). Otherwise, the child would be of the same species as their non-mage parent. In my case, that meant that I would either have a witch daughter, or a Forest God son. And neither of us would know until much later on in the pregnancy. For now, though, it was a mystery.
The prospect of my impending motherhood was both terrifying... and exciting.
Furthermore, as my pregnancy progressed, and the life within my womb kept growing, unknown emotions started taking root inside my heart. Feelings of love, both soft and tender, yet also powerful and all-consuming, swept over me with a ferocity which threw me off guard. I never thought that I would feel so completely and utterly devoted to, and protective of, a person who hadn’t even been born yet.
But as my belly swelled with new life, so too did my heart swell with emotion, as I fell more and more in love with this impossibly tiny, and precious creature I had yet to meet. And I wasn’t the only one caught in our baby’s spell.
Skull adored our child from the very moment he became aware of their existence. Despite how overwhelmed he was, and how out of our depths we both were, he was still beyond overjoyed to become a father. The Wetland God was completely obsessed with the tiny life growing inside me, and would frequently stare at my belly in wonder, as if not quite fully able to believe that there was a child in there, his child. It made him all the more endearing in my eyes.
Whenever he was in his humanoid form, Skull would place his hands so delicately, so hesitantly on my belly, and just leave them there, for as long as I would let him, desperately trying to feel his baby growing within me, and be as close to them as he could. And when the baby started to move, those touches became near constant. As inconvenient as it was, having Skull practically glued to my belly, seeing his face light up with pure joy and awe, each time our baby kicked, was more than worth it.
My husband also became even more attentive than ever, and did everything in his power to see that my needs were met. He kept making sure that I was comfortable, and happy, panicking whenever my “morning” (ha!) sickness acted up, and almost never left my side if he could help it. If there was something I wanted, he would try his best to get it for me, and had even learned to cook very simple meals, helping me around the house and the garden, whenever and however possible.
As for the things he couldn’t do, my familiars were more than capable of handling those. Both Missy and Hermes were frequently sent out to go fetch whatever food I was currently craving, with a note, a small bag, and some money clutched in their mouth or talons. Hermes was particularly adept at this, given how he was always the one who delivered the potions I brewed, to my clients.
Whenever my familiars weren’t out getting me supplies, they were either hovering protectively at my side, or were hanging out in the baby room, eagerly awaiting the little one’s arrival. Both had taken a keen interest in my child, even the normally aloof Artemis, and had appointed themselves my baby’s future protectors. A duty they both took very seriously. It was reassuring, knowing that I could always count on their support.
All in all, my pregnancy was progressing relatively smoothly, and all of us were greatly looking forward to welcoming the baby into our lives. We all already loved the child, so much, and yet we knew that our love for them would only grow stronger as time passed.
~~~
With all of these changes happening in my life, the one I least expected was how I’d begun to think about my mother again. I hadn’t thought about her much, if at all, ever since arriving in the wetlands, but now that I was about to become a mother myself, my mind would often turn to my own, late mother.
They weren’t even born yet, but I already loved my child with every fibre of my being. There was absolutely nothing that I wouldn’t do for their sake, and I was constantly thinking of ways I could ensure that they would live a healthy, happy life. I wanted only the best for my baby, and would do anything to achieve that.
All of a sudden, I could understand how my mother must’ve felt, when she was pregnant with me.
I could understand, only too well, just how desperate she must’ve been to make sure that I would not suffer the same fate as her. I could sympathise, only too keenly, with her fervent wish to see me loved and admired, by those who had hated and feared her. It was with startling clarity, that I could see exactly why she did what she did. A mother’s love was a powerful, and terrifying thing indeed.
And with that understanding, came a willingness to forgive.
The resentment I’d held in my heart, all these years, finally started to fade away.
I was finally ready to talk to my mother.
And so, on the night of the next new moon, at precisely midnight, I performed the ritual to summon Mother’s spirit from the afterlife, and bind it to her skull.
When it was done, I stepped back, and took a deep, fortifying breath, steeling myself for what was sure to be a very trying experience. It was never easy, talking to Mother, and I hadn’t done so in years. I was more nervous than I thought I would be.
When the hollow sockets of Mother’s skull lit up, those eyelights travelled around the room for a few tense seconds, before eventually settling on me.
“So, you’ve finally decided to talk to me, have you? Well, better late than never, I suppose.”
I reflexively hunched my shoulders at the chastising tone of her familiar voice, feeling like a young child once more, being scolded by her mother. I stood up straighter in defiance of that feeling, trying to dismiss it from my mind and my heart. I was an adult now, and soon to be a mother myself.
“It has, indeed, been a while, Mother.” I inclined my head to her, in acknowledgment. “I’ve been... busy, since last we spoke.”
Mother’s eyelights roved across my form, coming to a halt on my protruding abdomen. Her eye sockets widened.
“So I can see! It seems you’ve finally deigned to let someone touch you. Will wonders never cease?”
I pursed my lips, resisting the urge to rub my forehead, and soothe the ache I could feel building behind my brow. Instead, I raised my hand and gestured to Skull, who stood anxiously by the tree-cottage's entrance, his massive head peeking inside.
“Mother, I’d like to introduce you to my husband, the Forest God of these wetlands.”
Skull bowed his head in greeting, giving Mother a rather nervous-looking smile.
“hello... mate’s mother... nice to... meet you...”
Absolutely gigantic, monstrous-looking, shrouded in the darkness of a moonless night sky, and illuminated only by the glow of fireflies, and the crimson light of his eye, Skull made for quite the intimidating sight. But Mother only gave him a dismissive “hm” in response, her eyelights flitting across his features, before they returned to me.
“I’m not surprised, honestly,” she sniffed. I could practically see the shrug she was unable to give. “I always knew you’d never fall for an ordinary human.”
I had nothing to say to that, really.
Mother then turned her attention back to Skull.
“So then, what’s your name, big fella?” she asked him, her tone more casual than it had any right to be.
“Mother!” I hissed at her. “You can’t just ask that of a Forest God! It’s rude!”
The animated skull raised one of her brows, looking utterly unrepentant.
“So what?” she retorted, unabashedly. “What’s he going to do? Kill me harder? Is there another level of ‘dead’ I didn’t know about? If so, I’d like to see it. Should be an interesting experience.”
I sighed heavily, feeling my shoulders sag. This was going to be a long night. Turning to Skull, I gave my husband an apologetic look.
“Sorry about Mother. Please pay her no mind, love.”
I heard Mother harrumph behind me, but I ignored her, focusing only on my mate’s face, looking for any sign that my mother’s words had upset or angered him. But I found none. Instead, Skull was staring at Mother with what was unmistakably awe written all across his features.
“mate’s mother is... brave... and... spirited...” he remarked, sounding impressed. He then turned his head towards me. “just like... you...”
I wasn’t sure how to feel about such a comparison.
Mother gave Skull a broad, toothy grin.
“Yep. Girl’s always been headstrong and wilful, just like her mother,” she practically boasted.
I wasn’t sure how to feel about that, either.
Then Mother’s grin turned wry.
“It's a real wonder she’s never gotten herself into any serious trouble yet. As far as I’m aware of, at least.”
I was sure how to feel about that, however.
Affronted, I glared at Mother.
“Hey! I’ll have you know that not a single person I’ve met has ever had a bad word to say about me!”
Mother looked decidedly unimpressed.
“Of course not. They’re all too mesmerised by your beauty,” she rebutted. “A beauty I gave you, no less.”
The reminder of what had always been more of a curse to me, than a gift, stung. I shot her a baleful glare.
“I’m more than just a pretty face. So much more,” I insisted, tone carefully flat. Internally seething, I crossed my arms, my fingernails digging into my skin. “I’ve already made quite the name for myself, and the Mage’s Guild were most impressed with my talents.”
Mother snorted.
“Pah! The Mage’s Guild! That lot are nothing but a bunch of bootlickers and stuffy bookworms,” she sniffed, tone full of mocking condescension.
I bristled, offended on the Guild’s behalf, even though, secretly, I’d thought much the same about them myself.
“How dare you, Mother! The Guild is a prestigious institution!”
Mother rolled her eyelights. “Prestigious my arse.”
I gasped, utterly appalled at her foul language. “Watch your tongue, Mother!”
She shot me an incredulous look. “I haven’t got one, you daft child.”
At this point, I was about ready to hurl Mother’s skull out the window, and pray that it sank to the very bottom of the swamp, but I managed to restrain myself. Just.
Then, Mother’s eye sockets narrowed.
“Say, is that miserable old wanker still in charge?” she enquired, the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice.
My jaw dropped, as I gave her a scandalised look.
“Mother! You can’t talk about the Guildmaster that way!”
But she only scowled – an especially unnerving expression given that she was nothing but a skull.
“Bah! They’re nothing special,” she sneered, derision clear in her expression and her tone. “None of that lot are, in the Guild. In any Guild. I’ve been to many, all around the world, but they’re all the same, each one full of nothing but useless cretins. I was glad to be rid of them, when I left.”
Her shameless and irreverent behaviour was more than I could bear, especially not with a baby on the way, as well as with my sweet and soft-hearted husband having to play witness to it all. Abandoning my self-restraint and all pretence of decorum, I buried my head in my hands, letting out the biggest, long-suffering groan I could.
Skull nudged me, ever so gently, making soft, worried sounds, and I uncovered my head, to stroke his snout comfortingly, wanting to ease his concerns. His big, red eyelight gazed at me consideringly, assessing if I was truly all right, and I gave him my best reassuring smile, which seemed to satisfy him.
Meanwhile, my mother was giving me her own, scrutinising look. Her eye sockets narrowed in concentration, as her eyelights scanned me, something sharp and calculating in her gaze.
“I see you’ve managed to find a use for my old paperweight,” she remarked blandly.
I ran a hand over my face, massaging my temple in aggravation.
“Mother, the Philosopher’s Stone is a valuable artefact of unparalleled importance! It should not be used as a mere paperweight!”
But as usual, my protests fell on deaf ears. Mother was as impertinent as always.
“Well it’s not like that lousy rock was good for much else. Besides, it’s really bloody heavy! I could hardly lift the damn thing!”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, mentally counting to ten, as I took deep, calming breaths. From within my womb, my child gave a hard kick, successfully dragging my attention away from my infuriating mother, and towards my darling baby. I rubbed my belly, trying to soothe my child back to sleep, and felt them settle down once more.
Skull nudged me again, more insistently, concern shining in his face and emanating from his magic.
“are you... okay...? is baby... okay...? can i... help...?” he asked me softly.
My husband’s earnest concern and care for me never failed to warm my heart. I smiled back at him, running my hands along his muzzle in gentle caresses.
“I’m fine, thank you, Skull,” I assured him.
He leaned into my touch, as desperate for affection as ever, and I couldn’t help but indulge his adorable, needy side, with more pets and a kiss to the end of his snout.
Sadly, the tender moment was ruined, and my attention was ripped away from my sweet, loving mate, and pulled back to my irritating mother, when she spoke up once again.
“Oh, so that’s his name, is it? Skull? A little uninspired, but I suppose it’ll do.”
I was close to tearing my hair out in frustration and exasperation.
“Mother! Please! Skull is both my husband and a Forest God. Try to show him at least some respect!” I practically pleaded with her, for all the good I knew it’d do.
Mother raised a browbone at me, completely unaffected by either my words or my tone.
“The living show the dead respect, not the other way around, you silly child. Besides, Skull is my son-in-law, and I’ll not treat him any differently than I would any other family member.”
Skull’s eyelight lit up like a beacon, even as the edges got fuzzy. He appeared to be on the verge of tears, as he gave Mother the most heartfelt look of wonder and gratitude.
“mate’s mother... accepts... me...?” he mumbled, voice low, and thick with emotion. “i’m... so... happy... thank... you...”
I was a little stunned at how Skull had managed to only see the positive in what my mother had said, but more than anything, I was relieved. So long as my beloved was happy, I could overlook the rest.
Even Mother seemed a little taken aback. She blinked, her eye sockets slightly wide, before she collected herself.
“You’re welcome, dear,” she told him, voice uncharacteristically sincere. “I can tell that you make my daughter happy, and that’s all I could ask for.”
The hard edges of her skull seemed to soften, and she smiled at me, one of her very rare, genuine smiles.
“I’m glad that you have someone who loves you, especially during this difficult time. I’m glad that you aren’t alone, like I was.”
That left me truly speechless. I honestly had no idea how to respond to such heartfelt words, coming from my mother of all people.
“I- I-, um...uh... Thank you, Mother...” I eventually forced out, fiddling with my fingers, and shyly averting my eyes, unable to meet my mother’s gaze.
It was sobering, being reminded of how much hardship my mother had had to endure. As far as I could tell, she’d always been alone. When I was a child, I’d never once seen her be close with anyone, and there was never any sign of her having any friends or lovers, let alone a spouse. The only companionship she had, was myself and her familiars, a black cat, a sparrowhawk, and a viper.
As a child, I’d occasionally wondered about my father. But my mother’s stony expression, whenever he was mentioned, had stayed my tongue. It wasn’t worth dredging up unpleasant memories, just to sate my meagre curiosity. My father wasn’t around, and that was all that mattered, in the end.
But now that I was about to become a mother myself, I realised how fortunate I truly was. I was grateful that I would have Skull’s love and support to rely on. I was thankful that our child would have both parents to nurture, care for, and protect them. Words could not express how much I appreciated how blessed I was, to love and be loved in return.
As if to confirm my thoughts, Skull nuzzled me, purrs reverberating from deep within his massive chest.
“not alone... never alone... you have me... always...” he promised me, tone overflowing with adoration and devotion. “i love you... i love you so... so much... i will be... with you... forever... i will... never leave... you... my precious mate... never...”
Familiar warmth flooded my chest, my heart constricting with a love of unfathomable depth. I hugged my husband’s huge head as close to me as I could, and pressed several lingering kisses to his snout.
“I love you too, Skull,” I whispered against his face. “And I’ll never leave you either. We’ll always be together.”
The Wetland God let out a deep, guttural, grating sound.
“yes... together... forever...” he agreed, the pupil of his single eyelight transforming into a little heart, as he smiled lovingly at me.
Watching our affectionate display, Mother’s lipless mouth curled into a sly grin.
“Oh, so it’s that kind of relationship.”
Drawing back slightly from my husband, I frowned harshly at my mother.
“Whatever you’re thinking right now, Mother, stop it! This instant!” I bit out, through gritted teeth.
Mother chuckled, a teasing glint in her eyelights.
“Now, now, child, don’t fret, I won’t judge."
“Mother!!”
~~~
The sun was low in the sky, only just starting to dip below the horizon, dying everything a soft pinkish-orange hue. As our surroundings darkened, fireflies began making their appearance, their soft glow blending in with the will-o'-the-wisps shyly peeking out from behind the trees – an increasingly common sight, now that Skull was no longer the same violent, lonely Bog God he was before I arrived. The air was filled with the buzzing of insects, the distant croaking of frogs, and the gentle sloshing of water, as some aquatic creature broke though the surface.
It reminded me of when I first arrived in the swamp, hoping to make my home there.
The peaceful atmosphere filled me with the sweetest nostalgia, and I reclined back in Skull’s arms, sinking further into my husband’s embrace behind me. In response, the transformed deity’s arms tightened around me, his hands continuing to stroke my swollen belly, as he began purring once more. His magic practically sang, as it caressed me on all sides, echoing all of my mate’s love and happiness. Our baby also seemed to be relaxing, only giving the occasional kick to remind us of their presence.
Artemis was curled up on my lap, fast asleep, whereas Hermes was perched above us, on a nearby branch, keeping his usual vigil, regardless of how safe we were, in the very heart of Skull’s territory. Mother’s skull had been brought outside, and placed on the edge of the lip of wood at the entrance to my tree-cottage, where we were all resting. For once, Mother was blissfully silent, as she admired the beautiful scenery, and enjoyed the quiet tranquillity of the misty swamp at dusk.
My hands came up to settle atop Skull’s on my abdomen, lacing our fingers together. Skull gave my hands the very gentlest of squeezes, ever mindful of his great strength, and nuzzled his face into my hair. I could feel him take several deep breaths, likely inhaling my scent, and his purring got a little louder and deeper.
I wasn’t sure what the future would bring, or what challenges life would throw at us, but for this one moment in time, all was well. I was surrounded by my family – surrounded by all that I loved in this world. And I would hold this moment in my heart forever, and cherish it for the rest of my life.
...
~~~~~
...
Ten tiny fingers, ten tiny toes, and the cutest little button nose. My daughter was perfect.
I was exhausted. I was in pain. But I had never been happier.
After nine months of carrying her in my womb, and many hours spent bringing her into the world, I finally held my daughter in my arms.
I was utterly entranced, as I gazed down at her with all the love in my heart and soul, feeling indescribable warmth flood through my entire body. She was so perfect.
My daughter was, for all intents and purposes, a human – a witch, like me. But her Forest God blood would likely affect her magical core in unpredictable ways. She would almost certainly have powerful, if highly unstable magic, just like her father. It would be up to me to teach her the discipline and control necessary to harness that wild, chaotic magic.
She would definitely have a very difficult path ahead of her, if she wished to master her magic, as I, and my mother, had. But if becoming a great witch was something that she wanted, then she would always have my support, and I would do all in my power to help her, in any way I could. And even if she had no interest in developing her abilities to their full potential, she would still, always have my love and support.
As well as her father’s.
Skull was hovering by my bedside, very clearly wanting to come closer, but seemingly too afraid to do so. His magic was a turbulent tornado of emotions; fear, excitement, hope, joy, love, all warring together in his soul, as he gazed down at our baby. I knew he was too overwhelmed by his emotions, to be able to hold our daughter, and would need some time to calm himself down, so I just cradled our child close and made sure that Skull had a clear view of her.
The Wetland God was almost entirely covered in tiny, vibrantly colourful flowers. While his brilliantly glittering red eyelight was fully focused on the newborn baby in my arms, his other eye socket was bursting with little marsh flowers. Furthermore, there was a veritable bouquet sprouting out of the gaping hole in his skull, and, all in all, my mate was practically a living flower sculpture. He was adorable.
I looked back down at my daughter. They both were.
I was so lucky, so blessed, to have such a wonderful family.
My life hadn’t been easy, and the road to getting to this point had been long and winding, and fraught with many obstacles. But I wouldn’t have changed a thing. Every choice I’d made may not have been the best one, but they all, eventually, led me to here, to this moment, and I was glad for it. This moment was easily the happiest of my entire life, and was more than worth every single hardship I’d ever suffered. I had no regrets whatsoever, not anymore.
Choosing to become a swamp witch really had been the best decision of my entire life.
_______________________________________________
There's only the epilogue left, but it's mostly a just a fun little bonus chapter for those who've read and enjoyed "Good Girl Needs Kiss", so this fic is basically finished now.
I really wish my head were a little less fuzzy and achy, so that I could actually think clearly and give this fic the send-off I feel it deserves, but this cold has been dragging on for a bit, and I've been writing this for too long and am way too impatient to finally get it out. I've had a lot of fun writing this, but I'm happy to put it mostly behind me, and finally move onto something else. I'm not sure when the epilogue will be out, maybe soon if I'm really impatient, or maybe not if I want a break.
By either way, I'm taking it easy for a bit. Once the epilogue's done, though, I'm definitely going to be focusing on more Frans stuff, because I really miss writing it.
=> Epilogue
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