#over her again .. but now she has to learn how to give it away freely … without being scared … bites my hand …!!!!

[swordmaid]

for me… FOR ME..!!! and for shri’iia specifically the lock in for astarion’s romance is his graveyard scene in act 3.

i think it is too quick for shri’iia to be moving on to another relationship considering her previous one was with her mistress who essentially groomed and isolated her for like … more than hundred years. learning to chase her own desires and not moulding herself to what anyone wants her to be is something so new to her…!!! and something that she’s still learning how to be comfortable with….

and what I like abt romancing astarion with her is that I usually go for the dialogue path in his act 2 confession scene where you can ask him:

- what do YOU want to do?

and he goes like honestly idk what we’re doing but /this/ is nice. it just feels like two people exploring the option to love for the first time and taking things in their own pace rather than jumping straight into the relationship. they’re going at a snails pace… they don’t know what they’re doing but they like this feeling and the vibe and they want to more of it but they’re not ready to commit to anything yet and it’s fine for them …!! and they’re only committing by the end in the graveyard scene where significant time has passed and they’ve learnt a little more about themselves and they’re both more confident about their own desires and also how they want to be loved.

like it is so fitting I think… and sweet… not to mention astarion being a high elf & a vampire and shri’iia being a drow, they have all the time of the world for themselves so I def think they would want to take their time. except if shri’iia turns into a mindflayer or drider by the end then that plan is out the window lol

[druidfolk]

shadowzel AU — medusa and her blind lover

'What was it that stayed my hand then?

With dagger held unsheathed, blade pointing in its side'

Upon learning of Lae'zel, the terrible local Gorgon that occupied crumbled ancient ruins somewhere out in the country, Shadowheart had been set on killing her and turning in her head for the reward. She was blind, after all, and likely would be unaffected by the monster's terrible curse.

But when Shadowheart becomes prey herself, hunted by a band of brigands crueler and greedier than her and after the same prize, she is fated to a brutal mauling. Unknowingly she flees straight into the Gorgon's den, and when Lae'zel locks eyes with the criminals they seize, turning to stone within seconds, allowing Shadowheart the chance to slip away and hide. With Lae'zel distracted, she has the perfect opportunity to ambush the monster; what she does not expect is the sound of the tall, rippling form of Lae'zel slithering around the corner of a ruined column to confront her.

Shadowheart can hear its raspy breathing, can feel the coolness from the way its shadow blocks the sun as it towers above, only feet from her; she grips the pitiful knife in her sweaty palm and prepares to strike as close to the neck as she can get. All she needs to do is cut off its head, and then she was rich.

Her grip on the dagger tightens and her blood runs icy when the creature cornering her utters a single phrase in its gritty, underused voice.

"Are you injured?" it croaks coldly.

Shadowheart hesitates. Turns out her theory was correct; though she can feel the Gorgon's molten gold eyes bearing into her own, her body remains soft, alive. She tests her lungs, and fresh air flows in through her nose. She is alive.

'I'd been set upon by a predator

It was just looking for a meal, I saw ribs and fearful eyes'

Lae'zel is not stupid; she's been hunted day and night for years now, but nobody has ever gotten close enough to harm her.

Until Shadowheart.

She cannot immediately deduce Shadowheart's original intentions, for all she appeared to be was a helpless blind girl pursued by rapists and murderers. However, her disability proved itself a threat to Lae'zel; she can get close, too close. Close enough to land a deadly blow if Lae'zel is caught unawares.

So she decides to kill her. Eliminate such a threat once and for all, and Lae'zel can go back to her cold, isolated life in the ruins.

It had not been long since Lae'zel sent her away, letting her leave freely if she promised not to try anything stupid. That was her first mistake: showing her mercy. Shadowheart took this opportunity and fled, battered and exhausted. She'd be slow, easy prey.

She finds the girl in the evening, struggling through a waist-high grassy field. She must have lost the path at some point and failed to find it again. The tall foliage made the perfect cover for a creature like Lae'zel, who could easily weave her way through the blades and take her prey by surprise. As she draws nearer, the scent of copper fills the air. Peeking over the grass she can see that Shadowheart is struggling for a multitude of reasons; the thick grasses slow her down, yes, but she is more slowed by the deep gash in her side, blood bubbling out between her fingers as she attempts and fails to staunch the flow.

Lae'zel may be a monster, but she is more honorable than kicking a creature while it's down. She watched the ailing girl for a few moments longer, gauging how far she might make it. She only gets a few dozen more steps in before she crashes to the ground, uttering a pained groan before going still and quiet. Lae'zel quickly scans the area for any other life. Satisfied by the silence, Lae'zel darts forward and peers down at Shadowheart tangled in the grass, covered in smears of dirt and dried blood. She seems much less threatening in this state, and the Gorgon cannot help but give in to her piqued curiosity; she scoops the white-haired woman up and roughly tosses her over her shoulder, sliding effortlessly through the field once she finds a useable path that leads toward her temple.

Shadowheart is all but dumped on the dusty floor to wait there until she regains consciousness. Then, she will be Lae'zel's to do with whatever she pleases.

'What is it that stays my hand now?

With so much misery that I could mercifully put ends to

For that animal I let slink off into the undergrowth, unscathed

Do I not fear death, but just pretend to?'

Shadowheart is not a prisoner, Lae'zel insists. She is a merely a guest who is not allowed to leave until she recovers. This leaves her with plenty of time to plot and scheme, to plan the slaughter of this demon and be done with it. But night after night, she lies awake sleepless, unable to bring herself to action. She cannot bring herself to kill the creature who likely saved her life, who continues to let her stay in its home and asks nothing in return.

Maybe she plans to wait until Shadowheart is healthy again to kill and eat her. She doesn't know. Instead of worrying over it, she talks.

She mostly talks to herself for the first few days. When Lae'zel is around—usually only to check that Shadowheart had not tried escaping for the third time—she says little to nothing; her vocabulary seems to consist primarily of grunts and sighs and hissing. A lot of hissing, especially when Shadowheart accidentally shifts too close.

She comments on the Gorgon's collection of swords one night as she is slithering away into the darkness. It's a desperate grab at any kind of communication, and Shadowheart knows she's struck gold when she hears Lae'zel halt, then turn a fraction in the dirt.

"You wish to know of my swords?" she whispers, her tone suspicious with the barest hint of surprise.

Shadowheart nods all too eagerly, and she spends the rest of the night listening to Lae'zel tell the stories of nearly each and every one. Some she left out; whether they were too painful a memory or an insignificant one, Shadowheart did not know. But she listened.

And then the person behind the monster began to show through. Shadowheart would garner little bits and pieces of her history throughout the stories. She pointed to the jagged scar running down her right shoulder blade and told the tale of a clever thief who used mirrors to try and outsmart her. He'd managed to sneak up behind her and land a brutal slash down her back, but it wasn't enough to kill her. She puffed with pride as she regaled how she twisted and snapped him up by the throat with her injured arm, and grinned wickedly as his face froze in terror, the expression forever carved into stone.

She also tells stories of recent onslaughts of attacks, some by targeted monster hunters and others who happened to wander into her domain and wanted what she had for themselves, and what she had admittedly wasn't much. Shadowheart learns, through glimpses into Lae'zel's past, what a tortured life she's lived. She almost wonders if killing her would be a mercy, but shakes the thought away as Lae'zel dives into another tale centered around a bejeweled dagger. Then another, this time a hunter's bow.

By the time she is telling the story of the ogre and his crystalline club, Shadowheart is drifting into sleep.

'For it was starving, it was hungry

But had eyes too close to let me'

For a very long time, Lae'zel killed anyone that walked into her temple, whether she meant to or not. Innocent, curious children and poor lost elders were not even spared, and over time her heart grew cold and hardened from it. She learned to accept that she would be alone until her final day, and made surprisingly easy peace with that fact.

But then Shadowheart came into the picture; an equally as lonely annoying little farm girl with an overambitious sense of adventure, given her particular limitations. She intrigued and infuriated Lae'zel to no end. Why did she keep her up into the late hours of the night, when her time could be better spent curled into some cold corner, fighting for any scrap of rest? Why did she return day after day, sometimes staying away for as long as a week at a time, yet always comes back? It distressed Lae'zel greatly how empty and chilled the temple felt without Shadowheart's presence when only a month ago it would not have bothered her. She may have even preferred it. But now the wind whistles too loudly as it tears through the columns, the echoes of crumbling structures startle her when she is too deep in her head. It is driving her mad.

She watches the sun during the day and the moon during her sleepless nights, both in an endless rotation but never touching. How she longs for them to touch. The thought disgusts her, but she dimly wonders when Shadowheart will come back anyway.

'If you were easy to kill, I would have done it already'

Some days, when thoughts of Shadowheart torment Lae'zel to no end, she once more considers killing the girl. Out of sight, out of mind. But the image of Shadowheart bleeding, choking, dying by her hand tortures her far worse than even the tenderest of desires.

'Plagued by phantom noises

That that skeletal beast was haunting all my steps'

During the first few nights of Shadowheart's recovery, when she was delirious with pain and sweating with fever, she thought she could hear the heavy drag of a serpentine body around every wall and column. Her heart would race with panic while her body remained sluggish and weak, trapping her in place. If she were to be Lae'zel's prey, there was nothing she could have done to stop it.

Even after some flimsy semblance of trust had been established, both women slept with daggers under their bedding for some time.

'Questioning all my choices

With that dagger held unsheathed, I felt sick at my contempt'

Even after her body recovered, Shadowheart suffered. She struggled with the guilt of her choices; she could have killed Lae'zel as she intended to and save hundreds of travelers from a stony demise. But as she comes to learn, it is not Lae'zel who is the monster. It is instead those who seek to harm her.

For as long as Lae'zel has existed in her current form, she's been hunted. A target was planted firmly on her back the moment this terrible curse was inflicted upon her. She refuses to share her origin story, how she came to be this way, and Shadowheart does not press. Instead, a thick, sickening lump of empathy, remorse and fury lodges itself in her throat and sticks fast.

Every time she sees Lae'zel, with every new bit of information she learns, the lump grows and it chokes her further.

'For you were lonely, you were like me

Like some outside force had sent me

If I was easy to kill, you would have done it already'

Lae'zel's loneliness is not as apparent as Shadowheart's. She hides hers well, whereas Shadowheart's desperation for connection shows more plainly, and that scared Lae'zel. She kept her distance, only checking on the girl once a day at first, but over time Shadowheart's tendency to chatter away in that clipped, sarcastic tone of hers wore down Lae'zel's walls. The way she asked questions drew her in. Unbeknownst to Shadowheart, the monster's heart ached in very much the same way as her human one did.

Shadowheart gave up on killing Lae'zel a long while ago. She kept their visits a tightly bound secret; it wasn't as if anyone would notice she was missing anyway. Even without her eyesight, by now her feet carried her to the temple through memory alone.

'You are at my feet, we're by the fire

You're a gentle beast and I'm alive

You are at my feet, we're by the fire

You're a gentle, purring beast and I'm alive

You are at my feet, we're by the fire

You're a healthy, gentle, purring beast and I'm alive'

As Shadowheart slowly peels back Lae'zel's layers, she finds something she doesn't expect: a highly intelligent, fiercely loyal and passionate companion. She became somewhat protective over Shadowheart in the weeks they grew closer, threatening to hunt down and slay anyone who even mildly inconvenienced her. Underneath Lae'zel's pointed scales, sharp teeth and head full of writhing snakes is a women starved of loved yet too prideful to admit it.

One night, as Shadowheart reclined by the fire with Lae'zel curled next to her, she studied the beastly woman she harbored a thinly-veiled affection for. The serpents sprouting from the Gorgon's scalp formed a languid pile of warm bodies in Shadowheart's lap while her head rested atop a pillowy thigh. She found it interesting and endearing how the snakes mirrored Lae'zel's condition. When she slept, they slept. When she was ill or injured, so were they. They showed excitement and thrill in their own way when Lae'zel discussed a topic she was passionate about. They even seemed to like Shadowheart.

Past her broad shoulders, the wiry expanse of her body was cradled comfortably by her serpent half, and Shadowheart wondered with some shame whether she could fit in there next to her. She stroked a finger along the length of a dozing snake's head and smiled to herself when its strange reptilian eyelids fluttered. Lae'zel twitched and muttered in her sleep, and Shadowheart's heart clenched painfully at the implications of this kind of trust. She couldn't hope for something more than this.

She brushed her fingers along Lae'zel's long bony ones where they rested palm down against her thigh, and froze when she shifted. Groaning softly, Lae'zel's clawed fingers unconsciously wrapped themselves around Shadowheart's smaller, chubbier ones, gentle with her even in sleep.

Shadowheart's breath staggered and caught in her chest, and considered letting herself hope after all.

[fakenooodles]

In an “everybody lives” au I think Sammie should start to see and hear the spirits the more he uses his power. At first it’s just flashes when he’s singing but then he starts to see them in his daily life.

The twins figure out that their own dad must have been a griot because they saw him flinch and talk to things no one else could see the same way, but he was driven to madness and drank it away. Sammie luckily has Annie to guide him through it and learns which spirits are benign and how to ward away the malevolent ones.

If Remmick is dead, then Sammie gets to see him come to dance, finally at peace with his own people.

If Remmick is alive and playing nice outside the juke joint (drooling over the idea of being near Sammie), then the spirits seriously spook Sammie, giving him vague messages of danger and doom to come.

Sammie finally corners one spirit and focuses all his power on it to get answers. The spirit tells him that Remmick still has plans to kill and turn them all, but there is a way to bind him.

He and Annie use the spirit’s instructions to inlay a silver chain in a leather collar and a rope hanging from it with 13 knots. (And Annie is SO pumped to be learning ancient magicks from her African ancestors, she’s geeking out but being really cool about it)

So now they need to get the collar on Remmick. Annie already tried to get magic bags on him but he wouldn’t allow it. Sammie of course knows that Remmick would bend over backwards to do what he asks, so he gets him alone, he kind of blurts out “I’ve never been with a man before” which of course Remmick JUMPS on, one thing leads to another and they’re making out nasty style. Sammie forgets his whole plan until Remmick starts sucking on his neck and then he can act all offended until Remmick is begging to be trusted. Sammie tells him he had a plan already and that the spirits helped him make a magic collar that would temporarily neutralize his bite. Remmick is so blue balled after only like 5 minutes of kissing that he agrees to put it on and doesn’t even look at it first.

When the collar goes on it LOCKS. Remmick can feel the silver and he starts to panic and angrily reaches out to attack Sammie. He’s stopped by the appearance of spirits with masks surrounding him (think Princess and the Frog) and telling him that he is now bound to Sammie, forced to follow his every command and unable to harm him or allow harm to come to him.

However, there is a way out. Each of the 13 knots on the rope is imbued with magic that Remmick can use to fulfill a wish, all a person has to do is blow on one to unknot it and release the power. (Did anyone read Fablehaven as a kid? That’s where this idea is from)

So now Remmick is basically Sammie’s slave and neither of them are exactly happy about it, but Remmick is at least going to enjoy himself as much as he can. He is, however, constantly obsessed with trying to unknot the rope with his hands and teeth until he bleeds so he’s extra gross and creepy now.

So the gang gets together and swears not to release any knots but Remmick makes some great offers. Sammie you’re already the world’s greatest blues singer but wouldn’t you like to go anywhere freely? Get any gig you want? Mr. and Mrs. Chow, your daughter has so much potential, I could get her any of the finest schools. Ms. Pearline don’t you want your husband to love you again? Ms. Mary and Mr. Stack I could make every eye that looks at you raceblind, no one would see a problem with your relationship again. And Mr. Smoke I could get you all the money you could ever desire…or…maybe I could bring your daughter back……

Remmick gets an immediate punch to the nose and isn’t allowed to talk after that.

The gang walks away set on not undoing ANY knots because they know if they do, his first victim will be Sammie……..however…..

Things go awry much in the same order as the movie:

Remmick finds a white couple and fulfills their wish for a baby.

Mary breaks first in the group and wishes for people to be raceblind to her.

Then Stack gets shot (by the klan maybe?) and while he’s dying Smoke wishes to save his life.

Cornbread wasn’t made aware of the issue and gets tricked into undoing a knot.

They try to keep a closer eye on Remmick after that, but a random drunk undoes a knot.

Then Bo

Then Grace

Then Annie

Then Slim

Then Pearline

Then Stack

Then Sammie

One knot left….covered in blood and drool from Remmicks’s incessant chewing…………

And that’s all I got goodnight folks!!!!! Feel free to take anything you’d like for yourself, I’m incapable of writing my own fics so this idea is free use

[h8aaz]

— facts about angelblade!reader .ᐟ

♱ she's got a huge problem with angels, she was made to kill them after all. because of that, she's always mean mugging cas and scaring him with her constant death stares, only stopping when dean, calmly, gets onto her about it. he constantly has to reiterate that cas is a good angel, their angel, and despite the amount of times castiel has proven that to be true, she'll always be skeptical of him deep down.

♱ she never picked a name, even when dean asked her to. though he'd try to explain why she pretty much needed one, but she'd refuse, always.

"i am a blade. an angel blade. i do not need a name." she insisted.

"yeah, i know you are, but it'd really make things easier for us." dean sighed, "please. let's just research some more names-"

"no! i do not want to! now go away, you've made me frustrated." she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away, pouting.

due to the fact she always reminded everyone of her past form, the boys eventually deemed blade as her name. although dean will forever call her feisty as a nickname because of her nature in how she acts and speaks.

♱ she refuses to wear a bra. she says they're uncomfortable and restricting. which dean doesn't need a reason from her, he's more than happy with her choices.

♱ she slapped dean when they first kissed. she said she didn't expect it even though she said yes when he asked if he could kiss her. but now she kisses him freely and shamelessly every chance she gets, even if they're on a case.

♱ she secretly has bad separation anxiety, especially with dean. she can't be more than a few steps away from him at all times. he's also the only one allowed to touch her. she once nearly killed sam for accidentally brushing against her when walking by.

♱ she has sharp, pointed nails that are always in a dark hue of blue. she scratched cas once and his grace began to glow from the open wound like it would when sliced by her blade form. she now uses her nails as a method against bad angels—both torturous and fatal.

♱ blade has a worse sailor's mouth than dean after he taught her multiple swears—which is definitely his biggest flex. he loves hearing her chew out anyone who dares to step up to her, monster or not. truthfully, he gets aroused when he hears them fly from her plush lips.

♱ she rants. she argues. she's the biggest headache the winchesters have ever had. but beyond the attitude, she's one of the sweetest girls they've ever met. she's so incredibly caring and loving, despite hating every aspect of humanity. just don't get on her bad side and you'll learn how giving she is; lord—and dean—knows how much she can be.

♱ she hates learning but she's quite literally forced to as she's never been human before. things frustrate her easily, simply because she doesn't know how they work and she hates being confused and not knowing/understanding things immediately. but the whole 'experiencing life for the first time' aspect allows dean to show her all of his favorite things. and he knows that she'd find it all fascinating rather than being like sam and making fun of him, or like cas and not getting why he likes them at all.

GABS YAPS .ᐟ . . . once again, handprints idea is from my twin @sunsbaby !! lmk what other facts y'all think would fit her! likes, comments, + reblogs are very appreciated!!

special tags: @sunsbaby @starzify @soldiersgirl @bejeweledinterludes @littlesoulshine @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @daylighted @bluemerakis @j2archives @legalmente-loca @immodestly-marina

blade's masterlist

dividers were made by me!!

[t-u-i-t-c]

Something that has always been clear is that Rikuo is kind. He prioritizes protecting people over fighting with warriors for rings. He wants to make people smile with his music. He wants Hoeru to be able to live the way he chooses to. Rikuo has always been kind, and he's also been empathetic. When he hears that Hoeru may be hiding his need for help he pauses, when he learns that Kuon wishes to control Hoeru he stands up for Hoeru, and when he sees Gaia kneel for his death he can't ignore it. Rikuo can hear Gaia's pain and he cannot ignore it, that's not the type of person he is.

Hearing about Luna being dead hits Rikuo, you can see his eyes start to tear up and he attempts to reign it in but you can see he's affected. When Gaia leaves, after stating that he cannot give up even after it's clear that Luna's dead, Rikuo can be seen again contemplating. He can hear Gaia's pain and he cannot ignore it.

Rikuo goes to Gaia after he leaves the cafe and lets him speak about Luna freely, he doesn't pry nor does he cast judgement on Gaia's choice to die, he just is there for Gaia. He lets Gaia express his pain about feeling responsible for Luna's death, probably for the first time. At that point, Rikuo does look away for a brief moment, and I am not sure if this may be of significance but I wanted to note it. Right after Gaia claims responsibility Rikuo looks away, as if he is all too familiar with the feeling, and so I do wonder if it may have something to do with his background. He also notes that Luna's song is lonesome somehow but filled with kindness, as if he is familiar with these feelings as well.

He allows Gaia to see his plan through as that's his wish, but this changes when he hears Luna's song. He finds out that Gaia does not have all the information and if he wants to help Luna then Rikuo needs to help him. He sings to tame the Oni and to let Gaia know that Luna does not hate him and in fact she is waiting for him. She is waiting to say goodbye. It's Rikuo who is able to make Gaia get back up and it's Rikuo who helps him tame the Oni so that Gaia can speak with Luna one last time and find her true wish, for Gaia to continue living. Rikuo doesn't do this to get the ring, for all he knew Gaia could have decided to continue to be a warrior but his wish was fulfilled and so he doesn't need the ring anymore.

In Gaia's eyes Rikuo earned the ring through helping not only him but Luna. Gaia wasn't able to hear Luna's song but Rikuo was and he was the one who saved them both, so Rikuo has earned the ring and could be the No. 1 Beast Tamer. It's not about control or power, it's about kindness and empathy and being willing to listen and act. In a final act of kindness, Rikuo accepts the ring and Gaia's request that he use it well, while also being sure to ask Gaia what he'll do now. He does this teary-eyed recognizing how difficult this all was while also being grateful for being able to save Gaia and be entrusted with the ring. Upon hearing that Gaia will continue on for himself and Luna, it brings a smile to Rikuo's face bc this wasn't just about the ring, it never is.

[yunholuvrr]

closed doors pt.2

summary: you all engage in some,, roommate bonding.

pairing: yunho x fem!reader x yeosang

word count: 1.5k

warnings: cheating (question mark?), cuckolding, threesome, rough sex, unprotected sex, petnames, ummmm lmk if there's anything else i should tag idk what I was cooking with this one

read part 1 here

"Yeosang what the fuck are you saying?" Yunho responds first, dropping his hands from your body as if that makes the scene look any better.

"If you told me," he repeats to his friend this time, taking his cap off and walking further inside, "that you wanted to fuck my girlfriend, I would've said yes."

"What baby?" Your brain finally catches up and it's your turn to shoot him a confused look.

"Well, I would've said yes provided you were okay with it, love. Which you clearly are." He's reached the end of the bed now, head tilted in curiosity. You've never seen Yeosang mad, and even though this seems like an apt time, he's anything but.

Yunho seems to read your mind. "Are you not mad at us?"

"I probably should be," Yeosang chuckles, "but I saw this coming from a mile away." He scans the room and shuffles over to Yunho's desk chair, swivelling it to face you two. "Continue."

You and Yunho gasp in unison, and in any other situation your synchrony would've been funny. The only way to describe Yeosang's tone is dominant. It's the voice he uses when you're alone, and one glance at his crotch confirms his intentions. But Yunho doesn't know that (at least you don't think he does) and the whiplash from being caught freezes you both in place.

"Sangie-"

"I said continue," his hand smooths down his shirt and rests comfortably at the waistband of his sweats, "if you want me to forgive you, you need to put on a show."

Your gaze meets Yunho's, and when you see just how turned on being caught got him you know you have no choice. He completely relaxes beneath you, lifting his arms to rest behind his head, giving you free reign. But you still can't move.

"Princess," Yeosang brings your attention back to him, "show him what he's been missing."

The order sends a new rush of arousal through your body, rolling your hips without warning. Yunho groans under you, encouraging you to finally continue. You sit up straight, taking off your shirt and putting your body on full display for both men. The sight makes a satisfied sigh leave Yeosang's lips.

"Do you know what she likes?" He asks from the chair, palming himself over his pants.

"I don't," Yunho responds breathlessly, eyes glued to your chest as you continue to roll your hips. Some part of him in the back of his mind finds it absurd that he's about to take orders from his roommate and friend, but then again this whole situation is absurd. And he loves every single second of it.

"Her nipples are very sensitive. Not enough to make her come, but enough to hear her pretty, pretty voice," the way he talks about you as if you aren't in the room turns you on impossibly more, speeding up and biting your lip at the sensation.

"Yeah? Does your princess want my hands on her?" Yunho smirks, eyes unmoving. It's clear they're both gonna have their fun with you, whether you like it or not (you love it).

Your whimpers clearly aren't enough as Yeosang mumbles "answer him baby" before finally wandering under his sweats. You can just barely see him out of the corner of your eye, but the familiar snap of his waistband tells you he's freely stroking himself now, enjoying the show.

"Please?" Yunho's eyes finally flick up to yours at your plea, dark yet friendly. He's always had nice eyes, ones you didn't mind looking into. Has he always looked at you like this, though? Could Yeosang always tell?

Your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp pinch on your left nipple, followed by light pressure on both as Yunho works you up. His hands are big but soft, firm but gentle as he learns every dip and curve of you. Almost too gentle, and your ever observant boyfriend gets to it before you can.

"No need to treat her nicely," he huffs out. You wish it was a lie. You wish you could be offended by anything they're subjecting you to, but you can't. Yunho only hums in agreement before pulling you down by the nape of your neck, attaching his soft lips to a nipple before you can even register what happened.

"Oh my god," you and your boyfriend nearly say in unison, albeit his much quieter, as you pant above Yunho. The sensation is so overwhelming your hips come to a stop, but he quickly replaces it with deep thrusts, skin slapping skin the only noise rivaling your endless moaning.

When he's satisfied with sucking, he repositions you again to kiss you, nothing but spit and swollen lips. His hips slow almost completely, palming the flesh of your ass as he bounces you on his dick. You exchange whimpers of pleasure as he explores your mouth, swallowing his deep groan as he buries his dick in you fully, holding your hips still.

"Does my baby wanna lay down?" He whispers into your mouth, sitting up and pushing you into the opposite side of the bed before you can say yes. You let out a sigh of relief, massaging your slightly sore thighs.

"Head back doll," Yeosang orders, voice moving towards you. If you were being honest you nearly forgot he was there, but Yunho nudges you up with his own legs until your head rests just off the edge of his mattress. Your boyfriend (can you still call him that when Yunho just called you his baby?) finally appears in your line of sight, kneeling to cup your cheek.

"Tap twice if you need air," he smiles, and doesn't wait for you to respond before maneuvering his tip to your lips. You part them, letting the familiar weight of his dick slide through with ease. Yunho groans at the sight, running his own tip between your folds before thrusting into you again. The sudden movement pushes Yeosang into your throat and you nearly choke, but they give you time to control your breathing. One inhale, one exhale, and then Yunho pulls back and fills you again. He's slow at first, letting his roommate relish in the sensation of your warm mouth, rocking you gently between both men.

"Yun, look," Yeosang sighs above you, placing a light hand near your throat. He thrusts deep enough for a bulge to appear and Yunho's grip on your hips tighten so much it might leave bruises. You only have a few seconds to keep your breathing steady before the taller boy's slamming into you, knocking Yeosang even further into your throat and eliciting a groan from all three of you.

The pace Yunho sets is brutal for everyone involved, your moans completely muffled by Yeosang and the vibrations making him embarrassingly close to coming already. He only eggs you on, hand sliding down your chest to play with a nipple. You think you can hear Yunho groaning "fuck" over and over, but nothing's louder in your ears than your own cries buried deep in your throat.

Someone's hand - probably Yunho's - makes contact with your clit, rubbing in time with his strokes. It's all too overwhelming, the spit running down your face, blood rushing to your head, slick smeared on your thighs, both your friend and boyfriend buried deep inside you. The bubbling heat inside you explodes suddenly and forcefully, legs clenching around Yunho, begging him to stop. He slows only a little, still chasing his own high, pressing soothing circles into your hips as you get hit with waves of pleasure.

Before you can compose yourself you feel Yeosang twitch inside you, hot strings sliding down your throat smoothly. You swallow around him, making him whimper above you before finally pulling out. He leaves a chaste kiss on your lips as if he didn't just fuck your throat raw, holding your head in his hands as support.

"So perfect for me," you hear Yunho grunt, thrusts getting sloppy, "take us both so well, don't you pretty?" When you finally blink enough tears away to see clearly, the vision before you is godly. He pulls out completely to release on your stomach, one hand pumping himself clean, head thrown back in ecstasy as he moans your name. It's like music to your ears, and you swear you hear Yeosang sigh pleasantly along with you.

"How are you feeling baby?" He wipes a trail of spit from your cheek as Yunho pulls you fully back onto the bed, collapsing next to you.

"'m great," you mumble, one hand tangled in his hair as another reaches for Yunho's touch. You all stay like that for a while, Yeosang stroking your hair and Yunho playing with your fingers as you catch your breath. The calm finally brings you back to your senses.

"Do you forgive me?" You look up at your boyfriend with nervous eyes, still unable to read his expression.

"If you answer this one question for me," he leans down to your ear, lips grazing your lobe.

"Yes, baby?"

"Who fucked you better?"

[22ayla21]

Hello! Can I make a request to Kartein? The man has very few fics, something like he and the reader had a relationship in the past but she had to leave for her home country (Korea), she is part of Jiwoo and Kayden's circle, so when Kartein comes to take care of Jiwoo they meet and start living together again at Jiwoo's house, where Kartein realizes that she and Kayden have become close friends, so he confronts her about it and about her not coming back to him, thank you in advance and sorry for the inconvenience.

The sun was slowly sinking towards the horizon, painting the city in soft shades of sunset. The warm light reflected in the windows of the high-rises, creating an illusion of golden glow. He hadn't come here of his own will – Kayden had started his game again.

"You can't do it, Kartein. It's beyond your capabilities," Kayden had said mockingly that morning, teasing him.

Kartein just snorted in response, not about to give him the satisfaction of open irritation. Of course, he could. Of course, he would do it. Just because he was Kartein, the greatest healer among the awakened. And now he stood at the door of the ward where Kayden and Jiwoo were.

When he entered, the first thing he smelled was a familiar scent. Light, unobtrusive, but he remembered it too well to mistake it for anything else. His heart clenched, but his expression remained unchanged – cold and confident, as always.

Her.

Kartein hadn't seen her for years. Since she left for Korea, without even giving him a chance to say a last word. Back then, he hadn't looked for her, hadn't tried to find out the reasons. Pride had kept him from doing foolish things. He wasn't used to rejections, and so he preferred to pretend that her departure meant nothing to him.

And now she was sitting here, next to Jiwoo, talking to him as if it were perfectly natural. Her voice sounded soft, familiar, but now there was something new in it – something alien to him.

Kartein entered the room as calmly as ever, but his gaze was sharp, attentive. He saw how she had changed – in the small things, in how she carried herself, in how easily and freely she laughed with Jiwoo. But what particularly irritated him was how she exchanged glances with Kayden.

He couldn't explain why it annoyed him, but the fact remained – seeing her in the circle of these people, in this house, and not with him, was unbearable.

When evening came, they left the ward, and she was left alone with Kartein. The silence between them wasn't awkward – rather tense, as if both understood that sooner or later one of them would speak.

"You're back," he finally said, without changing his posture. She didn't answer immediately, but Kartein noticed how nervous she was.

"Yes," she simply said. He waited. Waited for explanations, excuses, but nothing followed. Didn't she think it was necessary to talk about it? Or did she think he didn't care?

"Why didn't you come back to me?" his voice was even, but there was a barely noticeable note of bitterness in it. She looked at him, her eyes shimmering in the dim light of the room.

"I couldn't," she said.

"Couldn't?" he repeated with a hint of sarcasm. "But you could come back here. You could spend time with Jiwoo, with Kayden."

He pronounced Kayden's name with a slight contempt that he didn't even try to hide. She sighed.

"Kartein…"

"Don't," he interrupted her. "You left without saying a word. And now you're sitting here as if nothing happened."

He felt like a fool. Shouldn't he not care? He had long learned not to get attached to people. He wasn't one to suffer over lost relationships. And yet…

She didn't answer, just looked at him with that expression that always baffled him – soft, understanding, but with a hint of determination.

Kartein clicked his tongue in annoyance.

"If you think I'm still angry, you're wrong," he said. She smirked.

"You're angry."

He snorted and turned away.

This woman… She always knew how to see through him, no matter how impenetrable he tried to seem.

A minute passed, then another. Kartein didn't move, but he felt her nearby. He couldn't admit it, but her return had disrupted his usual order of things. He didn't want this. He didn't want to let her back into his life. But did he have a choice? She was here again. And he knew it would change everything.

[whateverisbeautiful]

Hi there

What do you think happened to Rick's ring that Michonne wore around her neck? Do you think Michonne eventually started wearing it again? What do you think Rick's thoughts were when he saw his ring around her neck?

Hi @tinuvielstrider9 💕 Thank you for these questions! They definitely made me think about some things and I wrote my thoughts on it right here. ⬇️😊

#1: What happened to Rick’s ring that Michonne wore around her neck?

I believe the last time we saw Michonne wearing the M necklace with Rick's ring was when the CRM helicopter was coming to pick her and Rick up in ep 2. So I think what might’ve happened is Michonne hid it away before being vetted by the Civic Republic panel. She especially would have to hide the ring since the background story she fed them was that she was previously with her boyfriend, not her husband, and a wedding ring could raise suspicion.

And I like to think wherever Michonne kept that M necklace and ring tucked away in her consignee room, she was able to relocate it and get it back once they defeated the CRM and could roam more freely.

#2: Do I think Michonne eventually started wearing Rick’s ring again?

No, I don’t think she does. I think that ring stays in a dish now. Michonne had been wearing his ring as a symbol of their husband-and-wife union, and she doesn’t have to wear that one anymore because now Rick has given her a ring of her own that symbolizes exactly that. 🙌🏽

I also envision that now that they’re back home, Michonne will find a new wedding band to give to Rick as well. One that’s completely between the two of them, rather than from his past. And even if he doesn’t have a traditional ring finger anymore, I think he’d still be happy to wear the ring Michonne gives him on the hand he does have. 😊

#3: What do I think Rick’s thoughts were when he saw his ring around Michonne's neck?

This question. 🥲 This question made me think about how, in the apocalypse especially, being apart for over 8 years would have technically given Michonne enough time to have potentially met a new man, married him, lost him, mourned his death, and then wear his wedding ring in remembrance. So when Rick saw the wedding ring dangling on Michonne’s necklace, he could have had a split second of being curious about where it came from because, considering he remembers every single detail about Michonne, he’d know it definitely wasn’t something attached to her necklace the last time he saw her.

But I personally think he didn't even need a split second to wonder about the ring’s origins or if Michonne had moved on because one; when Richonne reunited in the woods, they really did seem to have this intrinsic knowing that they'd remained loyal and in love with each other all these years. And two; I like to think that Rick would pretty much immediately realize it was his ring she was wearing.

And upon realizing that, and later having more time to mentally acknowledge it, I'd say Rick felt extremely moved to see Michonne was wearing his ring. Especially seeing his ring attached to her signature M necklace that means so much to her. He'd know she'd been wearing his ring with her everywhere. 🥹

There could be sadness there too because the ring could be a reminder for Rick that he was working on getting Michonne a wedding ring and marrying her before he was taken, and now he sees she's had to make do with wearing his old ring since they were separated before he had the chance to go through with the wedding plans.

But I think Rick also would be encouraged to see that just like he was in Philly declaring Michonne his wife, Michonne was clearly back home finding ways to declare him her husband as well. Rick knows the way Michonne values the things that remind her of her loved ones (through clothing, jewelry, gazebos, etc.) and so he'd probably feel touched that this ring was a way for her to still stay close and devoted to him.

And on top of all this, I think most of all Rick’s thought when he learned Michonne had been wearing his ring was “I’m going to make sure I give my wife a ring of her own like she deserves and like I’ve longed for so long to give her.”

And like a true Get Things Done Grimes, Rick made it happen. 😇💍

I always enjoy these questions so thank you again for asking and wanting to hear my thoughts! 💗

[kaylatoonz]

Movie Amy Rose casino night singer🎵🎙️

Context:

What if at some point after the third or fourth Amy rose is introduced as a performer at casino night zone.

So after the adventures of third film (please don��t make me wait that long for Amy🥲) sonic and co explore more off world to gain more allies (if they were to encounter new threats). Knuckles suggest returning to casino night (from the pre-quill comic), recalling that they may have powerful warriors there. While there they get a bit sidetracked (mostly sonic) but a Forming crowd catches the team's attention. They catch word that a popular singer is performing their last song in the casino tonight. The singer also happened to be a hedgehog sparking Sonic’s curiosity.

Not wanting to miss out meeting another hedgehog and a spectacular performance, sonic is quick to follow the crowd, dragging his brothers to witness the singer's final performance. Knuckles is the more reluctant of the brothers seeing that they were straying from their mission. Sonic counters that we can’t find powerful warriors if we stay in a near empty room, pointing out that nearly all the inhabitants of the building were heading to see the performance. Knuckles begrudgingly agrees but insists that they should at least look for Warriors among the crowd during or after the performance.

With some luck, and mostly their abilities, they get a front row view of the stage. When the show starts, the Bros can’t help but be awestruck, especially sonic. Sonic is absolutely in love with her voice, her moves and her spirit. He could just tell how adventurous she was based on her song, and how she danced so freely, he just had to meet her!

Surprising both Sonic and Tails, Knuckles didn’t need much convincing to go meet the pink hedgehog. Knuckles informed them that the performer may be a warrior in the making with how fiercely the singer danced. He vouches that she may be a great addition to the tribe and proceeds to lead the way sneaking backstage. Tails and Sonic don’t have the heart to correct him that it was just a performance. so they just opted to follow knuckles to keep him from getting into too much trouble for sneaking backstage.

Upon arrival the brothers catch an argument between Amy Rose and the big boss of casino night. They learn that the reason behind it being her last performance was due to her finally being able to pay off her debt To the boss. The boss insists that she stays regardless of her cleared debt because her final performance was their biggest score yet she can’t possibly leave now! Despite the heated argument, Amy, thanks the boss for the food, shelter, and the fun experience as a singer He has given her over the years. She turns him down one last time and wishes him luck in his business.

Not taking no for an answer, the boss called upon his goons to take her away to continue their “business discussion”. Sonic, not liking where this situation was going, nearly jumps in, but is stopped by Knuckles. Before sonic could argue Why his brother was stopping him from helping the hedgehog girl, one of goons is sent flying across the room, slamming into the wall away from their hiding spot. Both sonic and tails now wide eyed follow, knuckles’s approving look towards the corporate.

Their eyes landed on the pink hedgehog again only this time she was wielding a huge hammer, and she is extremely pissed. (If sonic didn’t have a crush on her before he definitely did now!)

Knuckles is impressed, while tails and sonic are completely shocked. The only one in the room that wasn’t surprised was the boss who seemed to be prepared. Playing dirty, he summons more goons to surround and apprehend the girl. Amy seems to be doing well for a bit, but as the fight draws on it proves to be too much for her. Realizing this knuckles gives the OK to aid the girl in battle, which Sonic didn’t need cause he was out there before the words left his elder brother’s mouth.

One fight (and flirting from Sonic’s part) later the bros introduce themselves and offer that she could join their tribe. Amy being charmed (mostly by sonic), and not having anywhere else to go, she happily accepts the offer.

Bonus context:

Left: Amy singing 🎵 could have been me

Top right: Amy falling even harder for sonic when she hears him sing (bad romance meme)

Bottom right: Sonic and Amy singing together 🎵tonight you belong to me

I think it would be cute if before Amy replaced her show dress anyone could tell if sonic was hanging out with her by checking for red glitter in his fur or quills. Tom and his brothers definitely would tease him about it.😭

[lazyneonrabbitt]

Daryl has never been so proud.

After managing to get her into a car, which presented itself to be quite the challenge they had driven out to her last living space and took all the pelts and items she had left behind.

It was clear as day she was terrified of the vehicle but she soldiered through, wrapping herself and her son into their retrieved pelts for some comfort on the way home.

She did it scared.

"Where ya wan' these?" Daryl stepped through the doorway with a stack of pelts in his arms, staring at her pointing up the stairs and walking to show him. He followed suit.

The room she had been using for the last few days was still relatively empty besides a bed and a cabinet, but she wanted the pelts there, and the bed gone aparently.

"So, bed out." Nod.

"Mattress too?" He got a look in return, not really sure what it meant so he kept it up against the wall for now. "So what's next? Wanna check the community stash fer somthin' ta wear?"

Another short moment of quiet before she nodded. She wasn't comfortable around the people yet, had tried to meet some but quickly hid when even one too many came up to her. "Ya got me witya, ain' no one botherin'ya."

And so their first official trip around the community was a fact. Olivia had given them space on Daryl's request and promised to watch her as she dug through the inventory of clothing and fabric items and after having picked out a bunch of stuff and having wrapped herself in a thick, soft flannel Daryl had called Olivia back to check on their selection and went back home again.

It wasn't strange they caught a bunch of stares from original residents, seeing the strange new woman walking around and barely knowing how to function as a human. Even after being explained the situation they still weren't happy with this feral person freely walking around.

Daryl watched her pull the flannel closer to her body, head ducked low as to hide and put an arm around her. "Ignore them. 'M happy yer here so it don' matter what they think." She pressed further into his side, as close as she could while she held her son and Daryl carried their haul.

Another little victory for her.

Back home she quickly went back upstairs again, trying to get help with putting everything away. "Yeah I suck at foldin' this. Ya gotta ask Carol."

He knew she didn't want to. While Carol had offered her things she was still wary. Which he found a little weird with how easily she seemed to have stepped up to the gate and interacted with Rick. Probably adrenaline and the dire need for help.

"I'll come witya, but yer doin' the askin'." A grumble was all he got as reply as she picked up the newborn again and handed him over.

So now the three of them were on their way to two houses over. Her up front with Daryl at the porch steps with his son in his arms, which Carol found an absolutely beautiful picture.

"What brings you here, sweetie?" Carol stared at the scared woman and paid attention to her motions and noises, trying to get at least some gist of what she needed.

"I gotta come with you?" Nod nod. Carol nudded in return and agreed to follow, giving Daryl a look in hopes he'd tell her more but he shook his head. "Ain't helpin' er. She's gotta learn." He only shrugged and continued to play with the little one in his arms.

"You're good at that." She commented on the way he was so calmly handling his child he didn't even know he had a week ago.

Back home upstairs Carol was led to the pile of clothes, watching as she grabbed a shirt, flopping it into a somewhat folded mess and held it out to Carol who now understood why she needed help. "Yeah okay I see. Daryl sucks at folding laundry so you asked me huh." A proud smile made its way into her face as she nodded. She was pleased to be understood by someone else than Daryl.

"Okay so I'll show you and you watch first, okay?" Nod nod.

And so Daryl was seated on top of the nest of pelts with his son, absentmindedly chatting and bonding while the women were working through laundry lessons. "Shirt. Easy." Carol's voice was soft and clear as she talked through the steps of folding different items and watched her steps being repeated in a well enough matter. "You got this! You learn quick." She smiled widely with her compliment. "Now, don't be afraid to come by for more help, okay? I'm a friend."

Daryl said that word a lot. Friend. She knew it was a good one, it held a good feeling from long ago before she lost it all.

"--anh yoo" it felt weird to use her voice, but she knew she had to eventually. But when Daryl shot up at the sound she spooked a little. "Didya just.. talk?" The energy coming off both humans was that of pride and happines. So much it warmed her on the inside. She gloated and happily nodded. "Anhcyoo" she repeated herself and it was clear that she meant 'thank you'.

"Look at ya sayin' yer words." He had a hard time containing his excitement at her progress, and Carol couldn't help but give him a knowing smile.

"'M' so proud o' ya, wolfie."

~~☆☆☆~~

A/N: After some time there's a new one!

[Pt.1] [Pt.2]

[fandomworld9728]

The Life of the Morningstars - Chapter 16:

"Alright. What do you want?"

"Have you been filling Emily's head with nonsense again? I thought we agreed that you wouldn't tell her anything about Lucifer."

See? This is what pisses him off. Expecting people to keep their promises to her yet she can't keep the ones she makes. "Yeah? And didn't you promise Luci that you would tell her about her other parent?"

"Don't call him that!" Taking a deep breath, Sera tried her best to calm down. How was Adam still so wrapped around the fallen angel's finger? "I said what was needed to make sure he didn't completely crumble apart. That would have hurt Emily."

"What hurt Emily was taking her away from her mother!"

"Don't raise your voice-"

"No! I'm tired of this shit, Sera. You broke the connection between an Omega mother and a pup only a couple months after birth. Not only that, but you didn't give her to me. You know? Her father? You kept her! She should have just gone with Lucifer. You see how little miss sunshine Morningstar is. Ems would have been fine." Taking his mask off, Adam headed for the door. "It's really sad that his own sister can't keep her promise. That's up to the shitty ex he screwed over."

Leaving the Seraphim speechless, the first man made his way back to his room. They had court soon and he needed time to think and decompress. Sometimes it felt like all Sera wanted was the quirky former angel out of the way and a child of her own. With how Adam tended to run his mouth as freely as he wanted, he seemed to be getting into more and more trouble lately. The latest had been him taking the fall for the Exterminations.

He had suggested it when he was experiencing one of his really low moments. The moments when he missed his omega. Where it physically hurt that he wasn't there with him. He didn't think Sera would take it seriously and actually agree to it. She almost seemed giddy about it. Not in the face though. It all showed in her eyes. And as guilty as he felt about the Exterminations... it was also a way to get out that feeling of rage and pain at the omega abandoning him for Lilith.

Though... things never seemed to add up in his head. Those final days together in the garden. Sera's behavior. None of it made sense. He needed to talk to the Princess of Hell. And soon. Without Lute. However, luck didn't seem to be on his side.

~

"This is so much fun! I wish we could hang out all the time."

"Me too! Too bad mom and dad aren't together. If they were we could see each other all the time."

"I've been meaning to ask... who is your mom?"

Confused, Emily stopped walking. "What do you mean? We have the same mom- oh! That's right. You grew up calling Lilith your mom. So, you wouldn't call our omega parent mom like me."

Did this mean that her older sister had two male parents like she did? Charlie was even more interested to learn about who Emily's other parent is now. Should she start calling her dad her mom instead? Wouldn't hurt to try and calling him dad had really truly felt right. At this point though, it was habit.

"My alpha parent is actually Adam."

"Wait what?! Adam?!"

"Yeah. And don't take anything that he says or does in front of the other angels personally. He has to keep up a certain persona in front of them to stay on Sera's good side. He still cares about mom so much. Sometimes he thinks about taking me and going to Hell to live with you two when it gets too painful for him to be separated. That pain also makes him do bad things..."

Like the Exterminations. It wasn't an excuse, but it certainly explained a lot about Adam. "Thank you for telling me that, Emily."

~

What was Lucifer thinking? He was too old for this. And too much of a recluse to handle all of these people, the flashing lights, and the loud music. Usually, he'd use alcohol to help dull his senses to make it all easier to handle, but this stuff wasn't as strong as what Bee has at her parties so his magic burns right through any effects it could have on him. He had half a mind to just buy a couple bottles and chug them just to feel a buzz.

"What's wrong, short king? Aren't ya havin' fun?"

"I guess this isn't really my scene anymore... maybe I should just go back to the hotel."

"Nonsense!" Slamming down a shot, Cherri turned to the two men with a large grin. "How about you grab someone and go into one those private rooms? Or you could just grab me for a fun time."

Nervously laughing, Lucifer tugged on the collar of his shirt to try and cool off. All the flirting Angel's friend has been doing paired with strong smell of sex was making him feel a little over heated. He would have left already if it wasn't for his gut screaming at him to stay put. "T-That's flattering but no thank you. As much as I like girls I'm more into men."

A shrug and another shot were all the punk girl needed before she was focused on something else, making Lucifer breathe a little easier. Luckily, Angel was too busy having fun and trailing after a drunk Niffty to try flirting with him too. Could also have something to do with Husk being there. He wasn't going to complain. The less attention on him the better.

However, that left him alone with Alastor, who seemed to be enjoying watching the chaos unfolding. What little bit this night had been going in the king's favor quickly flipped against him. He was going to need to do something about this odd attraction he had to the creepy demon sitting next to him at the bar area. Beel and Ozzie keep telling him to get himself back out in the dating scene, but it always felt like Alastor didn't like him for some reason.

Their interactions left him feeling as if the other man was being intentionally hostile towards him. Like, what the fuck did Lucifer do to the guy? Absolutely nothing! Well, besides that small little spat when they met. But he apologized for that! Though... Alastor had called his sour scent delicious. He didn't understand how someone could like a scent that left most people's stomachs churning. 

No. He couldn't get involved with the radio demon. No matter how effected he was by the man's scent, appearance, and words. Not to mention his show of power whenever he needs to prove a point... Nope! Not going down that road again! He did not need the club smelling the mess he makes of himself just thinking about some sinner he met not that long ago.

Maybe he did need to get laid. Who would be a good choice? Angel Dust? He was experienced and Lucifer hadn't had sex in a really long time. But the spider demon had sex with people all day at work and was working horrible hours. Sir Pentious might be a good choice. The poor guy kept striking out tonight. He could use a win. People also tended to want what they couldn't have. Cherri might be more interested in the snake demon after. So, a win win win. Pentious gets a win and confidence boost, Lucifer gets laid, and Cherri might get either jealous and/or interested in the other sinner after.

His thoughts came to a screeching halt at the scene he saw. It made his blood boil, and he was moving before he could stop himself.

< Previous

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[blackjackkent]

Karlach doesn't respond immediately when Hector calls her name. She's standing stock-still, staring out at the water, except for her shoulders which twitch as if with tears, or with some monstrous effort.

"We did it, soldier," she says softly. "The city's going to be all right." Her voice shakes, cracks painfully. "And so are you."

She turns towards him, meets his eyes steadily, her gaze full of equal parts love and pain. And he realizes what is happening only a millisecond before the flame bursts up around her.

She collapses to her knees with a cry of agony. The engine in her chest is making a terrible grinding whine, and winding tendrils of flame shoot around her body.

He remembers the night in camp so many months ago when the flames almost consumed her, how he struggled to calm her, how he felt the first moment of realization that he could lose her. But that was when they still had hope the engine could be fixed. There is no such hope now, only brutal implacable certainty. There are no words he can give her that will calm the inferno.

How much effort was it taking her, all day, just to ensure that she could hold on until the fight was done and they could say goodbye?

Gods, he thinks, and it is a prayer to which he expects no answer. No, no, no... no... please... I thought we might still have more time... The heavy weight of future grief that has sat with him for so many months becomes a lead ball in his chest.

Unthinking, he barrels towards her, falls on his knees in front of her. The heat is tremendous; sweat pours down his face, into his eyes, blinding him, mixing with the tears.

She forces her eyes open to meet his. "Engine's finally cooked," she whispers. "Held on just long enough."

She tries to smile-- in spite of everything she tries to smile, and gods, he loves her, he loves her so much and he feels like something clawed and monstrous is ripping at his heart. "So...?" she gets out shakily. "H- how'd I do?"

He feels choked with grief and love. He ignores the heat and the way it starts to blister his palms at once, and reaches out to cup her face in both hands, unwilling to spare even a moment's remaining touch. He is crying freely now, no sign of any of his control remaining. Before her he has no secrets left. "You were spectacular," he says, his voice thick. "In every way..."

She manages a strange, shaky laugh that catches and sticks in her throat. "For you..." she groans. She presses her hand against his cheek; he feels the heat sink into him and hisses a breath out between his teeth but doesn't pull away. "And for the city, and for myself, and blah, blah..." she says, and laughs again, just a tinge of hysteria in the sound. "But most of all, for you..."

For you... He clings unashamedly to her, struggling for any words that might articulate what he's feeling. It was always for you too... everything I learned, everything I became, every bit of bravery and hope and struggle, it was all for you, always, for how you made me see this city and this world and myself... gods, please, don't leave me...

Don't leave me alone...

There's another burst of heat around her; the shockwave intensity of it sends him back onto his heels. Her hand drops from his cheek and he feels the pain of the burn her palm left in his skin. "Careful," she chokes out. "Hot..."

She hunches over, her breath coming faster now, the animal panic struggling to overcome her remaining composure. "How'd I do?" she whispers, more to herself than to him. "Spectacular..." Another hoarse laugh. "It's the one thing I can't beat, isn't it. Same below as above..."

The surge eases; she tips her head towards his again, her eyes drifting closed. "I love... you..." she mutters fiercely.

Her eyes open again, fix on his; he sees the flame in her eyes and along her body start to take on the blue hue that rises when the emotion between them is particularly intense. "You. More than anything. I saw-- GODS!"

She screams, spasms with the rush of pain, and the agony on her face feels like a knife in his own chest.

She tries to lift her head again, and it takes more visible effort this time. The tears and sweat on her face rise in a burst of steam. "Goodbye, sun..." she whispers. "Goodbye, sea. Goodbye..."

He feels empty. Hollow. Unreal, as if he's watching the moment from a distance. He can't bear it; he wants to scream, to rage, to tear apart reality if it will keep her with him a little longer. But he can't move. He can only watch as the flame begins to consume her.

An unexpected voice breaks the moment from behind him.

"No. Stop. I won't allow this."

Wyll has moved up to Hector's side. His eyes are full of pain and sudden urgency. "Karlach," he says emphatically. "You're coming with me - back to Avernus." He turns his head, meeting Hector's eyes; Hector can barely see him through the haze of grief and tears. "We can't let her die," the Blade insists. "Not like this. Not now."

Hope stabs through him suddenly - hope, indomitable in spite of everything that stands against it. Hope he learned from her.

Karlach has always insisted that she cannot go back to the Hells, that it would be worse than death, and it has been so important to him that he honor that, so important that he hasn't even considered other options, not really. He would have been ready to go back to Avernus with her, if that was what she chose... he decided that before they even left the Shadowlands.

But it was never on the table, because she was convinced that Zariel would be on her in an instant, that she would be taken back into slavery in the devil's army, and she would rather die.

But the last time they talked about it was months ago. Surely... with how far he's come, and with Wyll going to the hells as well... surely between them they could see to it that Karlach remains free and lives...

And Wyll would not be alone in his new life as a hunter of devils, he would have friends at his side...

And perhaps one day Zariel would fall to their combined might, and Avernus be truly free of her cruelty...

Surely...

Surely death can't be better than that hope?

Karlach struggles to inhale a hoarse, sobbing breath. "You can't. You..."

He reaches out through the flame again, takes her hand, holds it tightly. "Enough, Karlach," he says softly. "The three of us will make a new life in Avernus... together..."

"So what do you say?" Wyll asks. "Die here, now, or live on with people who love you?" He crouches at Hector's side, reaches out a hand to her. "Zariel won't touch you. I swear it, Karlach."

Come with me, please... please... Hector thinks desperately. I will follow you into damnation if only you will lead me there. I will carry Selune's light into that burning place and be at peace. Just please... come with me...

If she denies it again, he will not fight it. He will stand here and watch while she lets the flames consume her. He will honor whatever she decides in this moment, however much it might kill him to do so.

But she doesn't fight it. Her eyes open-- and he sees his own hope reflected in her gaze. Maybe it is that she sees, as he does, that there are new possibilities now, with how powerful they have all grown and with the city once again safe behind them, or perhaps in this moment of truth she has simply realized that she is not ready to die.

But whatever it is... she agrees.

"All right. All right..." she gasps out hoarsely. "But we have to go. NOW. I can't hold on much longer."

If the grief and pain were tremendous, the relief that shoots through him now is so staggering that he feels dizzy. His heart clenches painfully and the tears do not stop, and he reaches out and takes her hand in both of his, pulling her to her feet.

"Thank the gods you've seen sense," Wyll says excitedly. Hector suspects he's almost as relieved to have friends coming at his side to Avernus as he is to see that Karlach will live - although Wyll is even more selfless than Hector himself, and Karlach's fate is the only thing top of mind for him at present. "Come! To Avernus we go. Our next adventure awaits."

Their goodbyes to the others are fumbled and hasty. They will find some other way to do it properly when Karlach is safe. There's only one thing on Hector's mind now - the portal in the Devil's Fee, the gold it will take to get Helsik to open a path... and the hope of calm on the other side.

He is no fool - what they are deciding to do in this moment is to abandon the hope of rest and celebration and go to a new war, almost at once. But he does not care. It is more than he ever dared to hope for.

He kisses her fiercely, ignoring the heat burning through her, and they all break into a run.

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Eleven (Loki x fem! Reader Crossover fic)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1885 in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him.

Chapter Summary: The Translation book is found. You learn about Robert's past in a luxurious High-Rise. But Loki has private torments of his own, it seems...

Word Count: 6K (to quote @muddyorbsblr prepare drinkies and snackies accordingly. I'm gonna write a short chapter and other lies I tell myself)

Content Warnings: Brief mention of suicide recalling the canon events of High-Rise. Mentions of cheating (not Loki, but Will Ransome's canon actions). Mentions of drinking and mental illness. Thirst but no actual smut. Nightmares and anxiety.

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69

You continued to sit on Loki’s lap as healers arrived to take Skurge away. They were scared and whispering. They stared at him in frightened awe. 

“Hmmm. Could we have some food? The mischief just done to him has made me quite hungry,” Loki crooned over to the Grandmaster.

He nodded, his eyes even brighter with the blue eyeliner. He snapped his fingers at a servant. Another scantily clad woman. You took note of how she moved her hips- so when you walked, you would move your hips that freely too.

“Some food? I have plenty of food. Oh and- what! A! convenience! - I’m hungry too! Give us some snacks and be a dear and be quick,” The Grandmaster said.

She nodded her head with a smile and vanished.

“Thank you. He deserved it,” you sent to Loki.  

He didn’t reply but gave you a smile, his hold on you safe and secure, but not tight.

The woman arrived with platters and set them down as gracefully as a ballerina. You took a sip of your abandoned drink- fizzy and fruity and light. The alcohol could barely be tasted from all the sweetness in its flavor. You took note to take slower sips of it- you didn’t want to test your personal limit of drunkenness now. The plate with slices of bread and meat along with cheeses and grapes. The Grandmaster rubbed his hands and immediately began stuffing his face. 

You gave Loki a smile again, tilting your head as you relaxed on his lap. Then you lifted a hand and traced his cheek lovingly. 

“Oh my poor, hungry god. Let me take care of you, hm?” you murmured.

“When do you not take care of me?” he replied.

You plucked off grapes from the plate and popped one into his mouth. He caught each one with a smile and chewed with a loud crunch. The Grandmaster meanwhile was just blabbering on to any passerby with chewed cheese still in his mouth. You decided to ignore the disgusting sight of spat-up, chewed food. You merely kept feeding Loki his grapes and even lifting his cup so he could have his drink. As you held up the latest grape to his mouth, he caught your hand- his lips barely over your fingers. Savoring that bit of taste of your own skin on him. Then he released it and chewed it like normal.

Fighting how tingly you felt between your legs from it, you scoured the crowd for the others. Hal, Thomas, and Robert were doing all well. Convincing everyone they were just here to socialize and drink and eat and party. Nothing amiss. Robert was tapping his foot to the music, though you could tell Hal and Thomas were inwardly cringing at it. 

Loki turned his head.

“My, my, Skurge never knew when to shut up!” The Grandmaster said, turning back to you two. “Oh well- he should know better than to mess with a god, Loki. Lesson learned! Not gonna lie, the shadows were impressive! You always go for the flashy displays of power.”

“If you weren’t here, the ruler over them, do you know what I’d like to do, Grandmaster? I’d like to make myself their ruler. I’d make every one of them kneel before me, demand it until they did,” Loki boasted.

“Oooo, one of your secrets? Should I take notes- hmmm, that sounds nice to me. A whole crowd of people on their knees before you! Well- I mean- you were a sight in my own bed, Loki.”

The Grandmaster gave another eyebrow wiggle. You saw a pink blush on Loki’s cheeks- embarrassment. But you merely laughed it off.

“Is that how you won his favor?” you thought to him.

“In short- yes. Please don’t ask more.”

“And what of you- YN? I bet…Loki knows the sight of you…kneeling, we shall say,  very well at this point,” The Grandmaster continued with that “shit-eating grin” as Robert would say.

You gave another smile with a slow shrug.

“Oh, of course, I love it!” you cooed.

You turned your head back to Loki as he causally took a sip of his drink and set it down.

“As if you could ever demand me to kneel!” you added on with another grin, your voice in laughter.

The god took his free hand that wasn’t wrapped around you and barely touched your forearm with his fingers. His smile never left, and his voice dropped lower. 

“If you’re a good girl for the rest of today, say the word tonight, my dear. And, I’ll kneel before you.”

A gasp escaped you. Your thighs clenched. You felt as if you could burst into a hundred bits at his words. And the feeling between your legs happened again. It was everything in you not to melt, burst, or react strongly. Only looking at him as he smiled saying those words. A slight surprised inhale took you through, cooling the heat rising inside

The Grandmaster wiped off his food with his sleeve, ignoring the cloth napkins.

“As much as I love it when horndogs don't hide it around me- I want to turn things back to me. Can you believe it- I’m collecting books! I’m a Renaissance man after all! Planet creator, game host, and book collector. Ooo, I have a few new ones that, get this, translate languages. Yes! And I’m smart too! All these aliens and gods and you don’t know what they’re saying. Might as well catch up with all the new and old tongues! But these are the first edition copies of them! I mean- some of them are so expensive, Loki, I couldn’t even let you see them,” he chattered on.

Jonathan returned from a dark corner. His eyes caught Loki’s briefly. The Spy nodded his head in confirmation with a smirk. 

Loki and you exchanged a small look. To not increase suspicion, you stayed a few more minutes. Jonathan merely went to the corner of the party, hands in his pockets and feigning shyness. You fed him Loki a few more grapes. You listened to the Grandmaster's three more ridiculous boasts. 

Then Loki gestured for you to stand up. As he raised his hand, the rest of the circle turned their heads.

“Rethinking about Skurge- I might go to my oaf brother. See if I can persuade or trick him perhaps for your games. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Loki asked.

“Oh- hell yes! The God of Thunder!? Versus Korg! Of course!” replied the Grandmaster.

“Well then- I must hurry to him then. Please excuse us. Everyone! Time to hurry back!” he ordered to his circle.

Loki placed a hand on your back, touching the small middle of it. It felt so…warm, so nice…again the hot, wet, tingly feeling stayed in you. He waved at the other variants to follow behind him. 

As everyone got into the next room, Loki at once created a portal to Asgard. Everyone slipped through at once- hurriedly. You were getting quite used to hurrying through portals now! Immediately you were in your special meeting room in Asgard. All of you breathed a deep sigh of relief. The soft orange lights of the lit candles around the stone walls were welcome versus the garish Sakarr lights.

Jonathan pulled up the end of his shirt and revealed that there was a thin, hardcover book in bright red hidden beneath it. Everyone applauded and Robert patted Jonathan’s back.

“Got it,,” Jonathan said.

“Well now- seeing as also you are the one who’s fluent in a few languages, why don’t you help our Baronet translate it?” asked Loki.

Thomas nodded.

“Oh please, any and all help is much appreciated!” he replied. 

Jonathan nodded his head, “of course.”

“We’ll need to translate the spell, especially for Loki. The dagger itself won’t be too hard- I only need a welder for the blade.”

Thomas slumped his shoulders in his black jacket.

“It’s the tracking device I have trouble with,” he lamented.

“Tracking device?” Hal questioned, eyes forward to him in curiosity.

“A special device we can use to find where the cauldron is…it still isn’t functioning,” Thomas sighed. “It probably needs Loki’s magic…”

Loki folded his arms.

“I doubt my powers alone can…but there is magic in all the realms. We could find something. I will inspect it and ask.” 

The god turned over to you.

“And I think we should thank our gracious lady- looking quite ravishing, I dare say- in her performance in her role. The Grandmaster never suspected a thing with you- the rumored about…lady,” he said.

You gave a small curtsy out of habit, one hand over your cleavage now for the sake of modesty.

“It wasn’t…as bad as I thought. I honestly had a little fun!” you replied.

Loki turned to everyone.

“Now, Thomas and Jonathan have a bit of work ahead of them- but first let us all relax. Celebrate perhaps, if we’re up to it. We had two eventful journeys one after the other!”

You returned over to your room to change out of the dress into your normal clothes. You were still tingly. Ghosts of his touch, his skin over your back, arms, and legs. Still feeling his warmth, the contact…and remembering that you actually liked at. As you looked in the mirror in your room. Your thoughts swam, replaying it over and over…. 

 You may have pretended to be a whore. But the arousal you felt earlier was not pretending.

You put up a mental shield in case a certain god would make a snide comment.  

But…it was just…an emotion. Just a bodily function. Nothing more. It’s done now. Won’t happen again you told yourself.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That night you woke up with a start. you heard Loki’s thoughts. 

But it was different. Not with the smooth, confident, flirtatious tone he had in. He sounded troubled. And it was loud

Stones…Tesseract…Thor..Danger…in danger-Thanos-Help. Help! 

Though not every word made sense to you, you got up at once. Was he in danger!? Was something happening? You heard no sounds of a battle, of a fight anywhere near you. It all seemed like a normal, calm night. But that didn’t mean something wasn’t going on!

You ran out to the halls. Your senses stretched out, reaching out for where his room was. You located it in not too long a time- it turned out not to be too far from yours. Your feet making a sound against the stone floors. Only some torches on the walls of the palace lighting your way. The thoughts in your head, his scared, scared voice continuing to ring in a panicked murmur

Thanos- Thanos- Thanos.

Sure enough, there were guards right outside the prince’s room. 

“I think Loki’s in danger! Please! Check his room!” you begged them.

They gave a little look of disbelief from the calm stillness from outside. But without further question, they opened the doors. In the dark, from his open window was a sliver of moonlight. There was only a lump on the bed beneath green blankets. You searched around, the guards slowly brought out their spears. Your senses reached out, and you could feel the white-hot trickle on your hand threatening flames-

But no one was there. No one except the lump on the bed. Tossing, and then thrashing- you could make out the top of his dark, curly head.

“Thanos-Thanos-won’t work-his hand-can’t breathe-”

“There is no one here- only his grace sleeping,” one replied.

“I think he’s…he’s having a bad dream,” you replied.

Still, you hurried to him, his voice in your head, ringing in a panicked tone, his thrashing in sleep beneath the blankets continuing as his voice in your head raised-

“Can’t breathe-can’t breathe-can’t breathe- can’t-”

“Loki wake up!” you cried out loud. You shook at the lump violently. 

He emerged from it. His dark curls were all messy from sleep about his head. Free and beautiful. One needn’t guess his divinity. He woke with a start, sharply inhaling from his nose. And he was not wearing clothes- the blanket covering the lower half of his body.

Oh god, oh dammit you cursed silently at the sight of his pale, broad chest with black hair on it. Not to mention all the abdominal muscles. He smoothed it out of his face to see you with a muscled arm.

You forced yourself to focus on his face- after all, his eyes still looked scared. More genuinely scared than you ever saw him.

“Why are you here?” he asked.

“I heard part of your bad dream in my mind. The shield was down. I heard some of it…”

His face fell, wide eyes and a frown on his face. Vulnerable and scared. You lifted a hand to rub his arm in comfort.

 “But it’s just a dream- it’s not real-this is. Everything’s fine,” you soothed.

He wrapped his arms around him and hugged you. You hugged back tightly. You hadn’t hugged since the night you told him you would stay here.

“What was the…dream? What happened? What or who is Thanos?” you asked. 

The guards stayed positioned and silent. Whatever they thought of the scene, their faces didn’t show it. 

Loki released the hug, then clasped your hands, a stray curl falling over his face. 

“Thomas has things he is not ready to discuss. And I have things I’m not ready to discuss either…Only this- when I- when I went to the Prophet earlier, before Vanaheim, I learned a few more things. About myself, about things that might happen to me…but…”

“You don’t have to talk about them if you’re not ready,” you assured him.

He nodded his head.

“Thank you…”

“Do you need anything?” you asked, peeking over at the guards.

“I’m usually very good at falling back asleep, YN darling…I don’t need much. Never did. I’ll be fine…” he assured you.

He gave you a smile. But one that looked a twinge sad. With that, despite your curiosity, it was better to respect his refusal to talk about the dream further. You left his room with the guards. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next afternoon, You did not mention last night to Loki as he trained you with your magic. He was more into helping you control items.

“Now- spin those daggers!” he instructed.

With a lift of your hands, the daggers on the floor went into the air and spun like windmills.

Your fire and moving about of objects and sensing were fine. But as for the light- that could use a bit more work. You could adjust it when sunlight poured through- but that was it. Control it- like the stage lights of a theatre. But no more. You wished it was something that would be useful to fight Grendel with. But oh well- who knew what fates gave you these gifts? The others would be just useful.

“Very well- you’re quite the little sorceress!” he praised. “Now- I say we have had our fill of that!”

As the training for magic finished, you took a deep breath. Physical training was going to start soon- the ones with you and the men. You and Loki left to go through the halls. From one door to outside, you heard footsteps.

 There in the hall walked Jonathan with a small vase full of little white and yellow wildflowers in a  small grey, ceramic vase. 

Loki went up to him.

“And what are you doing not helping Thomas?” he asked.

“We needed a break. Translating it is hard and grueling. It’s going to take a while,” he explained. 

“Mr. Pine, I have another question! Why- did you get my mother’s or the gardener’s permission to rip out those plants?” Loki asked, hands on his hips. Studying the flowers. 

Jonathan’s eyes were larger and soft, like the soft gaze puppies would get. He held over the vase. 

“It’s a gift for Stella. To remind her of the time in the garden with Sif and me. She got the drabest of all the rooms here- I thought these might brighten it. Make her happy. The queen permitted it.”  

You gave him a smile, a hand flying over your heart.

“How sweet of you! Next time- here’s a hint I can say as her friend…”

You gestured for Jonathan to come closer. He did, and your voice became a stage whisper.

“Remember what the prophet said? Her favorite color is blue!” 

Jonathan smiled, beaming and relaxed. 

“It is mine as well,” he responded.

Loki plucked out a finger and twirled it mid-air. The flowers all turned to blue ones. The vase itself had a creamy white over it with little blue stars painted all over it. 

“Seems fitting- stars for the lady whose name means ‘star’. One shouldn’t miss out on presentation,” the god commented. 

Jonathan thanked him kindly. He seemed far from the serious spy capable of drowning men in pools. 

As he left, you both watched him. Then shared a quiet look with each other, you were biting down a grin. You crept up behind to watch Jonathan head towards Stella’s door, Loki behind you. A mouth covering your giggling.

You and Loki both stopped at a corner to peek over at it, to watch it unfold. 

Jonathan knocked on the door. Sif answered the door with a dagger in her hand, then relaxed recognizing him. 

Stella then went up after Sif. Her eyes went big at him and then to the flowers and vase. She made a small gasp, seeing the pattern.

“The stars-it’s a reference to your name,” you heard Jonathan explain.

“Hmm, at least admit it you got the line from me,” Loki complained under his breath.

Then she gave him a large, genuine smile. You heard her thanking him. Looking brightly into his eyes. She accepted the vase gently, their fingers brushing against each other. You could see some pink in her cheeks as they did.

 Then they said their goodbyes and she closed the door- almost hesitantly. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Training came and went to make the days faster. . Magic almost every day. Sparring with Sif every other day-though she still beat you most of the time. Stella was merely content to watch that one from a bench, applauding quietly for whoever won. Physical Training was still daily. But for the past two days…you noticed Robert never showed up. 

“He’s only repainting his walls. He gets invested in it…it calms him,” Loki confided in you. 

 It wasn’t usual to have him stay indoors and not out socializing with everyone. Bragging about the few times he beat Jonathan in sparring. Making little quips. Saying something to make Sif roll her eyes again. 

Once training was done, you sensed where his room was. You went to the doors of his quarters and knocked. He opened the door at once. He was just in his white shirt and grey tie- but the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Oh, hello!”

“I was just worried about you,” you said.

“I was…I’m just painting.”

“Can I see?” you asked.

He opened the door further and allowed you in. When you explored his room, everything was strictly neat. In order. Controlled The chests in their place. The chairs. A table with a few paintbrushes on them. Their bristles stiff with use. But then it showed there were blankets and plastic over them. The walls were once plain brown but now had a blueish-grey paint all over them. There were cans sitting still on the floor by them.

“How is all of it going?” you asked.

Robert folded his arms. 

“It’s well…I just learned I’m banned from Vanaheim. Forever. For destroying the palace,” he said.

“Oh, my- a whole realm!” you responded.

His eyes went down, his face sullen.

“That’s all I amount to, YN- a creature of destruction,” he said sadly.

“You aren’t!” 

He walked around. Then he sat down on the little couch. He patted the side next to you adn you sat down there.

“I am- I told you I went mad once. Let me explain how- it all started when my sister died.”

“Oh, Robert! How hard!” you commented. 

“We were close and it was hard. I grieved so hard, that I wanted to start over. So there was a luxury high-rise apartment complex set up. The talk of the town. I moved in there. Everything you could name was in it-pools, stores, schools, spas, and there were constant parties every night. It seemed like heaven.”

An apartment complex with all of those things? You could have never imagined! You kept your eyes on him, listening to more. You eyed the cans of paint still sitting in the corner. It seemed he already used half of them. The sting of the smell in your nostrils. 

“I met people, more than just the neighbors on my floor. So many new people. I even had lovers. No strings. No real commitments. Just each other's beds and bodies. And then more parties- with so much drinking, and the drugs. There was one party I showed up to. Brought some wine as a gift for them- but when I got there, it was a costume party. And I wasn’t dressed. They laughed at me. Then this fellow named Munrow- he took my classes and lived there. He grabbed the wine from my hands. Dragged me out by the collar. Tossed me onto the elevator and pressed the button for it to close and descend…all while he laughed. All while they all laughed.”

“How cruel!” you cried.

“It angered me so much that I couldn’t think of anything else I wanted more than revenge. So one day I was given his brain scans. Everything looked healthy. So I went to him and told him he had a brain tumor. It was fatal. All lies, of course.”

He took out a cigarette from his pocket and lit it. He took one smoke and then puffed it out.

“He got drunk and killed himself almost right after I told him.”

Your jaw was on the floor. Then a realization came upon you.

“Robert, when you went to the cottage…Munrow was…was he…”

“That was what the Weaver looked like when I looked at her,” he replied.

“Then it all got worse. First, the garbage stopped working.  Then no electricity. Then no water. There was no food. But I didn’t want to leave. No one wanted to leave. The perfect place, the most convenient place. We were all dependent on the place that badly…we didn’t leave. The rich upper floors decided the poorer lower floors must be killed. People exchanged their wives for food. Then…there were murders…”

He took a shaky puff, letting out the air. His eyes were a little vacant, staring out the window onto the city of Asgard as he continued to speak. Still, you listened.

“I was scared- always scared. And angry. I beat someone. Hid myself. Took another lover- and she said…she called me the best amenity here. Then it struck me- at first I wanted a release, to drown in lust. It was fine at first. But now…no one held me. Talked to me. Asked me how my day was. They didn’t…they didn’t want to see me. Hold me. But I realized…they didn’t give a fuck about me. Just wanted my cock- and they hadn’t changed. With everything breaking down…I…I broke down too. I was so scared, so angry, so alone. I…I broke down.”

“What do you remember about it?” you asked.

“I was covered in paint. I kept muttering things. I remember at the time, my mind was racing- so many thoughts- too fast to catch. I was covered in paint all the time. Eating dog food- it was all we had. I was always scared. I would switch. Euphoria one minute. Terror the next. Fury the next. I couldn’t do anything. But listen to music and paint and drink scour for what little food there was and try not to get killed-”

He paused. Taking a look back at you.

“Robert…that sounds like a nightmare…” you remarked.

He took another puff of a cigarette. 

 “Then one day Loki found me. He appeared right out of thin air. I kept yelling at him to get away from me. He dragged me to Asgard, kicking and screaming. Literally. Forced me to see healers and gave me a bath and a shave. He forced me to clean up. He had me take all these potions, these things…with all sorts of what they have here. They gave me medicines to take daily. I did, even if they were bitter. He made sure I was fed, safe, and clean every day. Then…then I…I wasn’t as scared. My mind didn’t race. It was still. I felt at peace. Now, it didn’t all happen overnight- but it did happen.”

You folded your arms and sat next to him on his chair. He took another slow drag of a cigarette adn then smushed it away.

“I never want to go back to that High-Rise ever again. It’ll break me. Then I will refuse any offers to leave. Then I’ll just break others. And I doubt I’ll get out alive…”

You took in a deep breath. Then you spoke with a soothing tone. 

“It’s over…but it still haunts you- Munrow, the building, the violence- no wonder you broke down. Yet…the building became a trap for everyone. And Munrow…chose what he chose to do. Nothing with you.”

“I feel like his killer. And maybe in that state, I did kill someone, or something, and didn’t know it…it’s like destruction won’t leave me. What if it comes back again, that’s what keeps me awake at night…” he fretted.

“Munrow’s drunken choice was his drunken choice- not yours. And look at you now- learning how to fight! Sparring with soldiers. Surviving among gods. Solving riddles and collecting spellbooks. Offering to help for the greater good! You suffered from guilt and shame and your horrendous experience- and you survived! What would your sister think of you doing all this now? Robert, wallowing won’t help you move on- I know! I’m sure I’ve stopped crying my tears over my own recent pain!”

He looks at you.

“The pain never leaves you. And you can’t control the worries.”

He picked off a piece of invisible lint from his pants. You offered your hand and he took it. 

“But this time, if the…madness ever re-appears. We will be prepared. There are healers here. If I ever start to…you know, show some signs…just tell us.”

“I don’t want any of them to be afraid of me, including you…”

You shook your head.

“I won’t let being afraid interfere with getting you help. I will help you. Loki helped you. We will all help you, Robert!” you promised.

You felt his hand relax, the pulse slowing. You saw him soften. He even smiled a little.

“Thank you.” 

You looked about the room.

“With your new life here, and these walls with it’s new color- you’re not a creature of destruction, Robert. You’re one of creation!” you said. 

His smile increased, and the same old Robert sparkled back in his eyes. He then walked over to the paint cans. Then as he went over to you, he picked up an extra paintbrush that was lying on a little table. 

“Would you like to help a little? It needs a second coat,” he offered. 

“I would love to help,” you answered.

Dipping a brush into the can of paint, the gooey wet stuff dripped down. He pointed to a part of the wall and you began to paint a little of it. Who cared if a few little stains got on your dress? It felt good and you saw Robert indeed calmed down with each stroke. It wasn’t long before Loki arrived, knocking on the door. His voice with a forced calm to it.

“Why- Robert, what is YN doing in your room? She went to find you and was gone for a while!” he said. 

The doctor smirked and then laughed a little. 

“We were only talking and painting the room!” he insisted.

Going over to the table, you picked up another paintbrush. You offered it to Loki.

“Would you like to help us? Don’t use your magic, it’s far more satisfying to do it yourself!” you suggested.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your arms were a little sore by dinner, and not just from having to do pushups. Though as all of you sat around the table- You, Loki and the variants, Stella, and Sif. In walked Thor excitedly.

“Exciting news, dear brother and friends! This next month is the annual Starfall Ball here in Asgard!” he announced.

Loki and Sif only nodded. But the others looked among them. Thomas’s eyes went big.

“A Starfall Ball?” he asked.

Thor grinned, nodding his head.

“The night when the stars all begin to fall through the sky in one of the most beautiful displays in the nine realms. Father and Mother are hosting a ball beneath the stars to celebrate!” he announced.

You nearly jumped in your seat, your hands tingling. 

“Oh! How beautiful! I’ve been to dances but- a ball! A ball, Stella!” you cried, looking at her sitting next to you. 

Stella’s thick, pink lips parted slightly. Then it broke into a smile. 

“It sounds lovely! I must stay to go! Oh, but YN, I don’t think I have anything to wear! I doubt any of the clothes Loki brought from home are grand enough for a palace ball!”

“Oh, we’ll discuss it later! We will decide what to wear. Our own clothes or perhaps ask Loki to conjure something Or we’ll go shopping!”

Loki glanced towards you at his name being mentioned.

“The fashions of all the Asgardian ladies are fascinating…” Stella commented.

Hal smiled and then looked over the table. 

“Well then- it shall be a mirthful affair-Why, how fares our good sirs Pine and Sharpe?” he asked.

Thomas scrunched his face and then released it. Jonathan’s hands at the table merely turned to fists.

“It’s far harder than we think. It’s hard to translate. And hard to make…” Thomas answered.

“Perhaps you- all of you- could use a bit of levity with this ball,” Robert said. “And we better start to learn how they dance here in Asgard.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You had a dream that night.

In the dream, you were close to back home. The forest of Aldwinter.

First- you sensed a presence. A creature. He seemed at first like a tall gorilla, with a large red mouth full of sharp teeth. Standing like a human. Claws and ears like a devil. Grendel- sure enough. You knew it was him. Scary and with bright eyes. 

Then there was a glimmer of gold magic that glittered down him. The magic gave him a humanlike form. He had pale skin and dark hair with a full beard. Bright green eyes. A black suit. Smirking as he looked down from the trees onto the town.  Then with a strut, he began to walk towards the town.

Then it changed. You were back in the town. The dirt streets made muddy when it poured rain. The sight of rolling hills and the smell and sound of the ocean. Where every house was white.

You felt the urge to cough, and when you looked down at your fist there was blood. And you were wearing your engagement ring. You looked at your clothes- your old white nightgown. White like a bridal gown. White like death. 

Then you heard laughter. Music. You looked back up.

 The scene changed. 

It was night and you were inside. It was the wooden hall...the wooden hall for the dances. Candles were lit with their orange glow over the dark night sky from the windows. There was a crowd gathering. Some are in dark dresses, but all nice.

Why-yes a dance was happening! Dance like you and Stella and the other ladies would go to…a dance where once, a time ago, a vicar asked you to dance and you said-

You saw him. Not alone.

In the center dancing, there was Will. With Cora. He was in a tuxedo. She was in a grey dress. Her golden blonde hair- so bright it shone against everything, so garishly yellow it was blinding. A back hair fell down the nape of her neck to show how beautiful she was without trying, without controlling. As you always tried too hard to be beautiful. Smiling bright- tension between them. They kept dancing.

You felt sick. So sick- like you were going to retch. And your breaths were fast, hyperventilating. Hurt and fear and grief washing over you.

You tried to walk forward, but then a lady in a dark-colored dress stepped in front of you.

“Oh, how beautiful!”  she sighed.

You tried to step forward- to reach there. Charge in, stop him. But a member of the party always stepped in. Never able to get to them.

“No- you all don’t understand. He asked me to be his wife. I said yes. I fell in love with him, and he with me- we’re engaged! We’re about to be married! He promised himself to me.”

They kept waltzing. Looks of love and longing and tension between them.

It made you want to scream.

The crowd pushed you further behind. 

“Oh- it’s such a sweet love story!” said one lady.

You turned to her nudging her so she faced you.

“But he’s engaged to me! We’re about to be married!” you cried.

She snorted, shoving your hand away. Ignoring you as if you never existed. As if you didn’t matter. 

You kept trying forward, reaching the crowd. The never-ending waltz between them continued. The music getting louder. The audience even applauded. Reaching through and failing.

You tried to get through, tried to get through the crowd, to reach them- to grab Will, to stop the dance, but you kept getting shoved aside.

“Please! Take me there! I’m his fiancee! He’s going to be my husband soon!” you pleaded. 

And each person ignored you. You tried showing them the engagement ring, and they ignored you. 

You ran forward- but their arms grabbed you back. There were tears, and you began to beg your fiancee. He ignored you- entranced in his dance with the widow. 

“Will! Stop it now! Will, please! I don’t allow it! I don’t allow you to dance with her at all! Please stop it!” you cried out.

They kept dancing, the music getting louder and overwhelming with the applause. You kept calling out to him, your voice half a scream.

“Will- stop it! Stop dancing with her! I’m going to be your wife! You love me and I love you! We’re about to be married- please stop it! Stop dancing with her! Will! PLEASE! WILL”

Cora then grabbed his face and kissed him in front of everyone.

You awoke with a startle. Your heart racing fast. The lights of the dance hall were gone. Now the blackness of your room.

You weren’t in Aldwinter. You weren’t even in that realm! You were in Asgard in the chambers you lived in.

Yet the nightmare still had you by your neck. You were trembling. You thought this was done, that you were strong. Time had passed. There were whole days and weeks and now months you didn’t think about it- then it came crashing back.

No…you loved. Loved deeply. And you were still betrayed. You tried to think of any way you were flawed- any mistake- anything you said and did wrong. The wrong step, anything. 

Maybe that was why he did it- as punishment. So the second you slipped up, put a toe out of line from his internal wishes…another would be in his heart and bed. Snatching your place.

Yes, you had friendships here, old and new from all over…but not…not love. No, you were cursed. You had to be. How could you fall in love again after that? How could you ever hope for romance again? You knew what happened last time. The burn of tears in your chest, swelling up to your face.

“It’s better I stay alone. If I stay a spinster. I’ll never be enough for anyone…and if I let myself…if I let myself love like that again…I’ll just end up hurt. if I let myself…feel that for any man…he’s going meet someone better, as Will did, and it won’t matter if he’s sworn to me - I’m either too flawed or too boring. And he’ll leave me and…and…and…” you thought as you curled up in a ball.

The trembling continued, the overwhelm, the lump, the burning in the back of your eyes.

I’m not worthy of love…I never was. And I never will be.

It then all broke on you, tears fell down like a storm. You began to cry. And then the cry became a sob. Sobbing hard as you sat up, curled up on the bed. Like you were at the tree in the woods that fateful morning. Sucking in a deep breath, another, big, loud, deep sob rung out of you.

The door flung open, and to your surprise, Loki was there, clothed in his normal Asgardian clothes. 

“YN! YN? Are you alright?” he asked, a bit more worried than his usual calm, controlled self.

“I had a dream of…of…” you blubbered out, crying hard, your knees curling up to your chest, feeling snot in your nose. 

“Your thoughts were quite loud- you’re not the only one who can hear each other’s nightmares. You don’t need to tell me what the dream was about, I heard it all clearly…here…”

He embraced you. You let him- what did it matter who hugged you? The notorious Trickster God- you needed an embrace, arms, and security. You embraced him. Smelling the sweet scent they washed his clothes with here and the cold smoothness of the cloth, the leathers.

There were footsteps. In hurried Stella with her blue shawl around her nightgown. Her blonde hair freed and down to her shoulders. Loki released the hug and offered a hand to help you out of bed. Stella at once ran to you, her small hands touching your arms.

“YN! YN! What is it?! What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What are you doing up?” you asked back.

“Loki woke me- said he could sense you were in trouble! I couldn’t just stand there! Has something happened, are you alright? Hurt?” she insisted.

You looked down. “I had a dream about Will…” you explained. “I saw him…with Mrs. Seaborne.”

“Oh, you poor dear!!” Loki released his arm as Stella went to hug you. She rocked you back and forth as you clung to her. You let out more tears.

“It’s alright…it’s just a dream, there there, it will be alright…” she consoled.

She turned to the god, watching with soft eyes on you both. 

“Water always makes one feel better after crying. Could you conjure some water, please, Prince Loki?” she asked.

He raised an eyebrow at the word “prince” and smiled. Then he conjured a glass of water and handed it to you. You gulped it all down, cold and sweet. You did feel how the water once in your body replenished you after all of your crying.

“Tell me all about it- don’t hide it in you,” Stella advised.

You told them what you dreamt of, omitting the first part about Grendel in front of Stella. Loki looked at you, listening intently to all of it. 

“It is still quite upsetting…do you need to speak any more about it?” he asked.

“I…I…I’d like to…to be distracted,” you replied.

Loki put his hands in his pockets.

‘I doubt the gardens that our dear friend Stella is so fond of is too dark- perhaps I’ll escort you ladies to the library- plenty of stories to distract you there. I have certain recommendations that should delight two beautiful, bookish ladies such as yourselves,” he crooned out.

Stella grinned at him in appreciation. She took you by the arm as Loki walked you down the hall. She turned to you, squeezing your hand. 

“We’re going to find something to read- separate or together. So we can have a little book club between us! And this morning, right after we eat, we’re both going to find ourselves new dresses for the Starfall Ball as you said. We’ll explore the city too! See what it is they wear and decide if we want to try them on! It’s going to be such good fun!” Stella encouraged.

You nodded at her.

“Yes, it is going to be,” you replied, feeling a smile return on your face. 

You glanced back at Loki as he walked you through the stone halls. You sent a thought out.

“Why is it you’re comforting me with my nightmare…but I can’t comfort you about yours…”

“I’m not the one who needs it,” was all he replied.

You wondered if the God of Mischief was lying. To you. To himself.

[nkn0va]

So for the first non illegal character x character ask on this page i'd like to request ragna x nu because i think they have a cute dynamic if you take out the ritualistic suicide sex to bring about the end of the world.

That's the plot twist, chief. The ritualistic suicide sex is their dynamic. I can...give this an attempt at the very least.

(Thank you to @uponawhitehorse13 for the custom banner)

-For the sake of this ask, the best I can really do is say this is post-Central Fiction where Ragna makes the decision to not erase himself and live in the new world with everyone else.

-When Nu finally recovers from her sickness and is able to move around freely again, her first instinct is naturally to find Ragna. Once she does she initially has the thought of becoming one with him in the form of the Black Beast.

-At least she does until she realizes that's no longer possible. The cauldrons have been destroyed and with the full power of the Azure, Ragna is for all intents and purposes a god. She couldn't beat him anymore even without the Azure last time so now there's basically no chance.

-Ragna doesn't really know what to do, even if he still wanted to save Nu from...well their thing they were forced to do together. He'd finally succeeded in doing that, so... maybe she deserved the chance she'd wanted for so long?

-It takes a while for the Grim Reaper to warm up to the idea, but seeing how Nu wanted him so badly now and she wasn't going to try to get him to destroy the world, he eventually figured why the hell not.

-An actual, real relationship is...awkward to say the least. Knowing their less than ideal history together along with the fact that Nu looks exactly like Saya due to being a clone of her really doesn't help. Is this even legal? Are there even any laws that go over clones of family members anywhere?

-Predictably, the Murakumo Unit's...intense feelings haven't changed, however she'll have to learn to express her affections in more normal, much less destructive ways. She'll cling to Ragna's arm at every chance she gets with no sense of shame whatsoever regardless of how he feels about it at any given time.

-To be honest, both of them are extremely inept at love, they're both learning as they go. Ragna just kind of sits there and lets Nu do what she wants most of the time, knowing she has to figure this out just as much as he does.

-However he has to be the one to stop her when her more violent tendencies start to emerge. If she catches him talking with any other woman who's not Noel or Lambda she'll probably be ready to throw hands right then and there, and that's not gonna end well for the poor girl on the receiving end if he doesn't.

-It's a long learning process, but Nu eventually learns to hold back the urge to attack any woman who even looks at Ragna kinda funny. She'll hold onto him tightly and shoot the woman the kind of look that very well could kill a person. As soon as said woman goes away she goes right back to her happy, child-like personality. The way her mood can swing like that so dramatically and so quickly will never get any less unsettling. At least she's pretty adorable when she doesn't have the urge to commit first degree murder.

[wortsandall]

snippet of fool's gold; (the next fic in the lies we tell ourselves au)

summary: intimacy was something marc was unused to. as hugs turned into careful distance, out of reach of swinging fists. as contact became associated with pain. until layla came, reminded him that it could be gentle. softness was rare, something marc had learned to never ask for , something he thought he no longer needed, but was now freely given.

or, marc and layla relearning each other in moments of intimacy.

He can feel her breathing, the soft exhales on his chest. Her hair that tickles his neck, unruly curls resting against his chin. The rhythm of his hand over her shoulder in time with her breaths as she sleeps soundlessly. Unaware while Marc stays tense and awake.

Sleep has been a distant memory rather than a reality over the past couple of months. Something that was never necessarily easy, but not usually this hard to fight for. He knows the pattern by now, knows exactly why some nights-no matter how long he lays there-he can’t find sleep.

He knows that it’s not him, but someone else. Inside. Someone who is trying not to affect him, but is doing so anyway.

No matter how many talks they’ve had, there is one issue that seems to never be resolved. As soon as there’s someone else in their bed, he cannot relax. And it’s never been an issue for Marc before. But then again, it’s not his issue.

He can’t be mad at whoever it is. He knows that there are many demons he doesn't remember that have made a home in his alters.

Marc wanted things to go back to their relative normal, their uneasy peace, but it's hard when you have to account for the wants and needs of five. Six, really, he amends looking down at Layla’s relaxed sleeping face.

He refuses to feel envious of her but he can feel the exhaustion weighing on him. He misses being able to fall alseep in her arms and have no issue. To wake up and not have to fight nausea and panic that’s not his.

It’s easier than it could be. Knowing that it’s not his makes it easier to push down and ignore. The only issue here is what to do next. If there's anything to be done. This could just be his new reality.

Layla isn’t as oblivious as she likes to act. Marc knows that she's aware of an issue. And if she hadn't guessed what it is yet, soon she will. Of course he’d told her about the new alters, but he hadn’t given any specifics. Her eyes were full of curiosity but still she hadn't asked for any more than he was willing to give.

It’s hard enough for him to wrap his head around it,l all, and a part of him is afraid that the more he dwells on it the flood gates will open. Those warnings that Hake gave play in his head constantly.

Jake had said he can’t control all the memories all of the time. People remember things even when Jake doesn’t want them to. He’s not as in charge as he’d like to be.

And Marc doesn’t want those memories. Whoever has them now can keep them. If they're locked away for none of them to see, relegated to feelings they can't explain, they can stay there. Marc is fine with the little he already knows. He doesn’t need more.

But Layla notices.

That daytime is easier than nighttime. They may live separately, but they spend time together often. As they build up what was harmed by Marc’s absence and his lies, there’s a barrier that neither of them want but don’t know how to move past.

“Is this okay?” She asks him. It startles him despite how soft and sleepy it is. His hand stills its movement on her shoulder, squeezing in an attempt to reassure her. But with her head on his chest, she can feel his rapid heart beat. One that beats too fast to be someone relaxed and content. Too fast to be someone asleep. He feels caught despite not having done anything wrong.

“It's fine-good." He says anyway, copying her tone. "We're okay."

[shimmerbeasts]

The issues with taking control of something like this for yourself, the endless deals that are there, and with this one, it was not so easily served with a blade to the throat, a slash and a cut, the removal of flesh and bones from one, as this one could not be so easily harmed at all, no not like her brother, who she enjoyed every single moment of what she had done to him, to ensure that he suffered as much as possible for think that he was the one, the one above all others, that his life was better than her own, holding more meaning, more purpose, more of everything when she had been right there the entire time, wanting for so much more, and learning that the world was not going to hand you anything, you had to take it for yourself.

“What do you want now?” As she paced back and forth within the tent, within another form, that she held, to freely move within the city, you would not believe, how many people, spill their secrets freely, to her and believe they can gain something from her, other than their lives, slipping from them with their final gasps. “The old man will be captured soon.” As she rolled her eyes, she was not involved in that, the other two, idiots she had to share power with, didn’t want her involved with it nor her followers,s he was too wild, too unstable, they could not control her and predict what she could do so they kept her within this city then, so be it, there was more than enough her, so much chaos and madness waiting, so much blood as well, rivers of blood, waiting to burst and wash away everyone and leaving her to bask within it and offer it up to the only god that matters, as her eyes narrow upon the devil. “Careful.” As she crossed the distance between them with the blade pressed into the flat of her stomach. “I am not afraid of you, don’t speak to me, in such a manner again, or you will be going back to the inferno you crawled out from, in pieces.”

"I would advise against this, my dear."

Mizora gingerly closed her fingers around Orin's wrist and pushed her hand down, forcing the shapeshifter to lower the ornate, bloodred and curved dagger, at which handle her nether stone flashed ominously.

The Cambion explained: "If you kill me, I will just reform in Avernus, but most of all, if you kill me, then Wyll dies and becomes a lemure in Hell. Ergo I have no reason to return to the surface world and continue helping you. If anything, I might become angry enough to help your brother, dearest. He might not recall our arrangement, but it seems my presence earlier did jog his memory if only a little."

"However, I do recognise that you probably do not care too much about what I think. So how about I tell you exactly what the ramifications for you are, Orin?" Mizora's smile turned wolfish and her wings opened and shut a bit. She leaned closer, voice nothing but a whisper: "You kill me, and you prove Gortasch and Kethric right in their assumptions about you all over again."

Circling around behind the shapeshifter, Mizora's tail curled around her ankle like an adder and she placed a flat hand on Orin's shoulder as she continued talking: "Killing me makes you yet again nothing more than a rapid, deranged, maniac-riddled dog. No wonder, your partners-in-crime chose to lock you up in a kennel, because that is what Baldur's Gate is. Make no mistake; it is your kennel! I am genuinely surprised neither Gortasch, nor Kethric has decided to put shackles on your hands, pull your fangs and file off your claws. After all, you are directionless. As far as they are concerned, you always have been and you always will be."

"And believe me, that attitude of yours is the reason, you will not get your father's love or approval", Mizora finished, plunging the metaphorical dagger deeper into Orin's heart, "Bhaal is the Father of Murder, and murder is many things but directionless killing. If Bhaal wanted that, he wouldn't need you. Just watching a pack of wolves devour a deer would give him the same result." Her hand once more wound around Orin's wrist, lifting up her dagger so they could reexamine the red stone.

"Think about it", Mizora murmured and there seemed to be a pitiful note in her voice, "You have more power than you could have ever dreamt of, and yet your life is as purposeless as it has ever been. You are still nothing in your father's eyes and nothing in the eyes of those, who allied with you. I know how maddening that feeling is. How rage-inducing. You have every right to show them all but can't if you keep running in a circle."

@fallesto cont. from here.