#That she uses the lightning freely

[dudedidujust]

can't stop thinking about that joke about Jason having to ask for every bolt of lightning he uses, but what if- what if that was true.

just imagine Jupiter giving a restricted amount of bolts he can use in a set time and not renewing them until the time limit has passed. just imagine Jason in battle counting off every lightning strike and trying to save them for later. just imagine that the only way to get more is begging to a father who does not care to listen. sometimes the count varies and he's in the middle of a fight and suddenly the lightning he's summoning puffs into smoke in his hands and he's left scrambling even though he's sure he hasn't run out. Jason learns to manipulate the winds, to fly, to fight and win without lightning ever sparking between his fingertips because there's always a chance that he may need it later, that a greater emergency could occur. He's fighting Krios, furious and fast when there's suddenly smoke where there should be lightning and he grits his teeth, raises his sword, and keeps going. He wins.

[hazelfoureyes]

Ok I need a Lucifer x Reader fic based on Griftwood by ghost pretty please ( just listen if you haven’t heard it you’ll understand)

Listen, I went the opposite direction I think you wanted? Lol gonna work on brevity and get more snack sized smut out on weekdays and entrees on he weekends

[Warnings/Promises: snack sized, Lucifer x GN!AngelReader, lil smut smut, Fuck Sera, Luci corrupts absolutely, all hail dat dick, sacrilegious as fuck]

🫸🏼minors DNI🫷🏼

Lucifer avoided the heavenly embassy for obvious reasons. The vast halls, the empty and useless pews, it was, in a word, 

“Creepy,” He hissed. 

He was surprised to find the reception desk manned. Very rarely did heaven actually send anyone down to hell. Oh, wait.

You were stunned already to see Lucifer, so when he poked your nose you let out a tiny squeal.

“Oh shit! You’re real!” Lucifer took a step back, “Sorry about that! Not used to an … actual person.” He gave a little bow, “Forgive me?”

The fact is no one wanted to go to hell for desk duty, so the job was actually a punishment reserved for the most misbehaved. You had to intentionally set fire to Sera’s robes to get that severe of a scolding. She was reluctant, but it had been threatened (promised) to you last time you (intentionally) caused trouble. Rumors were abuzz about Lucifer, and you just had to see for yourself what the Great Big Boss of Hell was like.

Rosey cheeks, bright sharp smile. He didn’t look as scary as you had imagined. You expected a seven foot eight inch tall behemoth with fire pouring from his mouth and blood stained horns.

The devil, the real one, looked quite sweet.

A tiny existential crisis washed over you. Maybe there was a reason they didn’t want people down here. Why they made it sound oh-so-terrible.

“You still in there?” He leaned over the counter, tapping at your forehead. Your hands flew up, capturing his finger and bringing it down.

Warm. 

He froze, a little shocked you would touch him. Your smile went crooked, cheeks blushed. 

“Uhhh you good?” He pointed with his free hand to where you still gripped his finger. You nodded, a hum of confirmation. The blush rose up until you were fully red in the face.

The realization struck Lucifer like heavenly lightning, “Oooh, I see what’s going on here.” A wicked smirk taking you by surprise. “Did you want to meet me, little one?”

You broke out into a sweat, “Yes.”

Lie! Why didn’t you lie?!

He leaned over the counter, “Did you do something bad to get sent here?” Was there fire behind his eyes?

Uneven breaths, “… yes.”

Lucifer’s knee came up and over as he crawled onto the desk, “Should the King of Hell reward you for such bad deeds?” His eyes had gone red now, your hand still on his finger.

Your knees began to shake, “Y-yes.”

His face was inches from yours when your legs gave out, both of you falling to the floor.

Horns tall, yellow pupils dilated as he straddled you. “I think you’ll find I’m a generous ruler.”

It made sense. As Lucifer bent you over the reception desk and fucked you from behind, you could completely understand why they made this job posting sound horrid. Heaven would be empty if every winner could freely interact with Lucifer. You’d damn humanity too, if that was the cost. His hips snapped against your ass with divine determination, sweet praises on his forked tongue. 

The sounds of your gasps and his skin on yours echoed through the pristine white and gold halls. Like a pastor giving his sermon, he made the most delicious promises as you bent at the altar. 

Could heaven hear you? Your chants of “God, Oh God,” shifting to, “Lucifer! Luci—fer”, when one of his hands came down, fingers stroking your heat?

“What do you pray for, my curious Angel?” He growled, a flame you couldn’t see licking past his lips. “I’ll grant you anything”

Your cheek was sliding across the marble, small line of drool smearing on your face. Claws raked down your back, the stimulation making you shake.

Your fingers reached for his thighs, failing to take purchase. Lucifer took both of your wrists in one hand and held them at the small of your back for leverage. Your legs bent up, toes curling as you came around his sweetly punishing cock.

Taking a few deep breaths, you rolled your hips back against him, “More.”

Lucifer laughed and lifted one foot onto the desk to add more force behind his thrusts, “Say please.”

am I too horny? No. No, the cardiologist is wrong.

╭──────༺♡̶༻──────╮ Masterlist ╰──────༺♡̶༻──────╯

∰ Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult (general tag list): @cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , fizzled-phoenix , @tsunaki , @janchei , @wettiny-in-smutland , @moonmark98 , @hoebihoeshi , @fjorjestertealeaf , @pansexual-opera-house , @ive-no-idea-what-to-call-this , @roxxie-wolf , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain , @harley2223-blog , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima , @phobophobular , @ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby , @dontfuckbutimfab , @surusurusuru , @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12 , @star-kujo-platinum , @ivebeenthearchersstuffn, @rubyninja1 , @simphornies , @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 , @whateverlololo , @alleystore , @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @simplyonehellofanotaku , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog , @thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @xixflower , @i-am-nonbinary-bean-deal-with-it , @psipies , @howabouticallyou , @a-case-of-attachment , @multifandomfanatic02 , @watereddownmilk , @raynerrold , @crazii-saber-wolf , @valkyrie-expeditions , @bontensbabygirl , @sillyb0nez , @oo0lady-mad0oo , @jazzmasternot

[ickadori]

hihi again! i sent in the ask about how suku/ura would react to yorozu interacting with reader, and i just read your newest post, and oh myyyyyyy i think i fell more in love with the whole trio's dynamic ^^

anyway after i read the punishment fic something that stood out to me was the line about y/n's village being burnt down. i wonder if she thinks back to her times living in the village. in my mind, y/n kinda hated her life beforehand. she may have been treated badly in the village and now that she thinks back on it, she realizes just how much suku and ura have changed her life. like, she's actually grateful for their violence because now she's able to live her life (somewhat) freely.

just a little fluff moment for the trio that crossed my mind but i'd love to hear your take on soft moments like this with the trio :) if there any ig :p

cws for mentions of abuse from reader’s family.

You don’t often think about your life before Sukuna and Uraume - you try not to, at least, but sometimes you can’t help but remember your time in the village on nights like this: lightning lighting up the dark sky, thunder booming overhead, and wind violently whipping the trees back and forth as a storm rages outside.

You had come from a small village, one that wasn’t even big enough to make it on the map. All of the townspeople knew each other by name, and could list off everyone in your family two generations past. Everyone knew everyone, and everyone knew everything about each other, and you think that was the worst part of it all.

Your parents had died when you were young, too young to even remember their names, much less their faces, and your aunt had been the one to take you in. You used to wonder why she had done it, she had made it painfully obvious how much she detested you and your dead mother, but in a village as small of yours and a pride as great as hers, she would have rather died than have the village folk whisper about her behind her back.

Her other children, your cousins, had been no kinder towards you. They followed their mother’s lead and ostracized you, a few of the nastier ones even taking to bullying you when their day hadn’t gone how they wanted it to. You had been their anger outlet, occasionally their punching bag, all while you had to clean up their messes and cook their meals.

They were allowed to have academic lessons to teach them to read and write, while you had been to stand outside in the yard to keep from overheating anything. Your aunt enforced this rule no matter the weather conditions, and you found yourself shivering in the cold winter months, your coat tattered and no shoes on your feet (you weren’t permitted to leave the house, so what was your need for shoes, she always said) as you stood in the snow until your feet grew numb, or overheating in the hot, summer sun until you were drenched in sweat and severely dehydrated.

Sometimes it stormed —just as it is now, as you reside in Sukuna’s palace—, stormed so badly that the trees became uprooted from the ground and crashed down beside you. You cried and sobbed those days, because the thunder was loud enough to drown out your cries, and therefore you didn’t have to worry about your aunt growing angry about the noise.

The people of your village cast you glances, some filled with pity, others filled with indifference, but none of them offered a hand to help. They watched you stand for hours, some days the bruises marring your skin glaringly obvious, and pulled their shutters closed as they disappeared into their homes and erased you from their minds.

You hated them, every last single person in that village, and that’s why you hadn’t shed a single tear when it was tore down to the ground. You had stood there and watched, not frozen, as a single man killed all the people you had wished death upon countless times. You had thought he was some kind of demon coming to exact revenge on your behalf, so it was no surprise to you when you had thrown yourself at his feet and cried in joy, jumbled words of thanks and gratitude being thrown at him.

You had fully expected for him to kill you, too, and you hadn’t minded one bit - you had got to see their ends first, so you couldn’t complain too much now that yours was next, but here you were..

Standing near the open doors to the garden and watching as the flower petals were ripped free from the violent winds and whipped around in the air. A crack of thunder sounded, and a flash of lightning lit up the sky in the next second.

A strong gust of wind sends you teetering back on your heels, and a set of hands settle on your waist to steady you. You tilt your head back and look up to see Sukuna, a small smile gracing your features as you take him in.

“You said you disliked storms.”

“I do.”

“So you stand in open doors to watch them?” He looks down at you, hands moving to pull at your now wet night dress, and he lowly tsks. “You’ll catch a cold.” Uraume seems to appear out of thin-air as they push the doors closed, their attention also moving to your wet clothing.

“It’s just a bit of rain - I’ll be fine.”

“The bath is still hot, my Lord.”

“Cover yourself in the meantime.” Sukuna drapes his overcoat around your shoulders, his scent completely surrounding you. You’re hoisted into his arms a moment later.

“I’ll have one of the servants prepare some tea in advance—some soup, as well.”

They speak back and forth as they move through the halls to the bath room, and Uraume wastes no time in filling the still steaming bath with a few different herbs that you recognize as medicinal. Sukuna makes quick work of your clothing and even quicker work of his, and then he’s lowering the two of you down into the bath, one set of hands scooping up hot water and letting it run down your chilled arms, the other set kneading into the meat of your lower back.

Uraume is out of the room in the blink of an eye, and you release a breath as you relax into Sukuna’s chest, your hands moving to grab ahold of one of his. “Ryomen..”

A hot rag is pressed to your forehead as he hums in response, and you run your fingers over the bumps of his knuckles. “What is it?” He pushes, and you shake your head when a lump begins to build in your throat, instead choosing to twist around in his lap and press your cheek against his chest, his skin hot against yours.

You hear Uraume enter a few moments later, confirming that the soup and tea will be ready soon, and then their hands are joining in to move a hot rag against your skin, their voice low as the two of them speak back and forth about your apparent “lethargy”.

They make it painfully evident that without them, you would have likely died in that village never having known what it felt like to be cared about, and it makes your feelings for them ever stronger.

..thank you.

[rebornofstars]

SEPFEMBER 2024 PROMPTS LIST

HERE WE ARE! AT LONG LAST! THE MOMENT YOU'VE ALL BEEN (HOPEFULLY) WAITING FOR! GIRL MONTH!

I honestly can't believe this is actually happening. This event was a shower thought a few months ago.

Here's a recap of the event: to participate, make at least one fanwork of any variety during September that features a woman or women from the Zelda franchise as the main character/s. All Linksmeets are welcome in this challenge, as well as general LoZ fans!

Before I drop the prompts list for those who are looking for a little direction, I'd like to mention that I have made an AO3 COLLECTION FOR THIS EVENT. It's open and unmoderated so you can add your works to it freely. And if you post on tumblr, please tag #sepfember !! I'll be scrolling through the tag every day looking for things to reblog and gush about 👀

If you have any questions at all about this event, or you want to chat about it, my askbox is open! I will also respond to comments and reblogs of this post.

Now, onto the prompts. Disclaimer: you DON'T have to use all/any of these prompts, or only create things for certain characters on their featured day. This list is just a GUIDE for those who want it. If you have other plans, go with your heart!

At the end of the day, this is a celebration, and all that matters is that you have fun. I hope some of you will join me next month in giving our girls some time in the spotlight, but if you can't, that's okay! There's no pressure! This is just a passion project of mine, really, and I am overjoyed that people are interested 💛💛💛

(apologies in advance for the terrible quality of these pics and the equally terrible commentary. i thought it would be funny. also, i've never had to come up with a prompts list before and it shows.)

DAY 1: SKYWARD SWORD ZELDA + PURPOSE

(we start at the beginning of course 💛)

DAY 2: MARIN + WASH

(it was SO hard to find a screenshot of her that didn't have link in it. they're both cute but this ain't about him.)

DAY 3: MEDLI + GIFT

(i didn't know she played the harp until i saw this screenshot! i obviously have a lot to learn.)

DAY 4: TWILIGHT PRINCESS ZELDA + FREEZE

(how creepy does she look here?! so awesome)

DAY 5: HILDA + GHOST

(SUCH a good character for real. she has depth!!!! she has a thematic purpose!!!)

DAY 6: URBOSA + LOSE

(two words: LIGHTNING POWERS ⚡⚡⚡)

DAY 7: SPIRIT TRACKS ZELDA + MISTAKE

(babygirl you are 2 entire pixels.)

DAY 8: FI + ORDER

(oh she is everything to me)

DAY 9: MIDNA + SWORD

(she looks so soulful right now)

DAY 10: HYRULE WARRIORS ZELDA + SUMMON

(what a FIRE camera angle??? her armour is so impractically attached but SHE HAS A SWORD‼️)

DAY 11: GODDESSES OF HYRULE + EYES

(hylia, din, nayru, farore, the list goes on...)

DAY 12: ZORA PRINCESSES + TRUST

(mipha, ruto... poor suckers... it can't be fun, falling for link...)

DAY 13: OCARINA OF TIME ZELDA | SHEIK + FATE

(note: I personally hc this character as a trans man, but since this isn't explicitly confirmed in-game and might not be shared with everyone, I've given them a celebration day anyway. you are free to do what you wish.)

DAY 14: MALON + GUARD

(she is adorable. look at her)

DAY 15: IMPA + BOUND

(HOTTEST MOST SEXY MOST BADASS WOMAN IN THE FRANCHISE ‼️‼️‼️ I LOVE YOU IMPA YOU ARE PERFECT. SHUT UP I DEFINITELY DON'T PLAY FAVOURITES—)

DAY 16: FOUR SWORDS ADVENTURES ZELDA + PORTAL

(i loved her in the fsa manga. she's barely in it but STILL. go read it.)

DAY 17: FAIRIES + TIRED

(the great fairies, navi, ciela, tatl, proxi...)

DAY 18: TETRA + LEGACY

(isn't she KICKASS?!)

DAY 19: EPONA + BONE

(our lovely loyal girl 🥰)

DAY 20: A LINK BETWEEN WORLDS ZELDA + HOME

(SHE IS SUCH A GOOD PARALLEL TO HILDA PLEASSSSSE)

DAY 21: SARIA + WISH

(a classic character! isn't this picture so peaceful)

DAY 22: BOTW/AOC/TOTK ZELDA + PEACE

(SHE IS EVERYTHING TO ME. SCREAMING CLAWING CRYING. MY DARLING, YOUR FANARTISTS WERE THE ONES TO DRAW ME INTO THE ZELDA FANDOM. I HOPE I CAN RETURN THE FAVOUR ONE DAY)

DAY 23: CIA + LANA + STUDY

(technically, she's one person. between the two of them they certainly only wear enough clothes for one person... )

DAY 24: ARYLL + HUG

(sister to the hero! but what's her story?)

DAY 25: ECHOES OF WISDOM ZELDA + ARREST

(YEAHHHHHHHHH GIRL MONTH GIRL DAY GIRL GAME!!!)

DAY 26: CD-i ZELDA + HOLIDAY

(hehheehehehe. i bet you weren't expecting her. neither was i tbh)

DAY 27: PURAH + FIRE

(SHE'S CLEVER! I LOVE CLEVER WOMEN!)

DAY 28: ILIA + ERUNE + MEND

(listen. i know erune is a very niche character - she literally only exists in the four swords manga - but consider. i love her)

DAY 29: ALTTP/OOS/OOA/LA ZELDA + MISSING

(she has no canon personality. you know what that means. get the building equipment out fellas)

DAY 30: LINKLE + FAREWELL

(and here we are - LAST DAY!)

THE END! YAY! I CAN'T WAIT FOR SEPTEMBER - CAN YOU?

[bangchansgirlsblog]

Broken Headsets PT 2

-Chan

Warning: A lot of Angst.

Pairing: BangChan x reader.

Summary: where he snaps at you while working.

!Not proofread!

**

“Baby I’m so sorry, please open up the door.” Chan’s voice echoes through the door and into the bathroom.

My knees against my chest as I was calming down from a panic attack. The sleeves on my sweater now dump from all the tears it was sucking up.

“G-go away” I cry louder. My body shaking and my salty tears freely running down my hot face.

“I don’t…I don’t want to talk to you right now!”

“Babe I’m sorry okay? I didn’t mean to snap like that. Just let me talk to you. Let me hold you. I’m worried. Your going to have another panic attack”

“BangChan leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you.” I throw whatever was in my reach at the wooden door. Making him jump on the other side of the door. Now HE couldn’t hold back his tears. He wanted to be able to sort it out because he genuinely didn’t mean to snap Or cause anyone pain.

“Okay I’ll give you some time my love, please don’t be angry with me. I’m sorry.” His voice now low and quiet. I had no response because I was so angry and so hurt by him.

I wasn’t being dramatic right?

The sound of his footsteps disappear down the hall making me quickly but softly wipe my tears away and get up to wash my face. The cold water making my body shiver. I stare at myself. Hair up in a bun, eyes red and eye bags deep from all the lack of sleep. A fucking mess.

The front door slamming was what made me jump getting me out of the trance I was in. Had he left? I pick up the container that was on the ground due to the fact I threw it and open the bathroom door.

I find Berry sat in-front of it as if waiting for me. I give her a soft smile and pick her up.

Walking through the house looking for any sign of Chan but there was none.

I glance at the clock and it read 12:45. Anger rises up my chest once again because how dare he leave the house at this hour knowing how much anxiety I have when his out late? Such a selfish bastard!

Get home.

I send him a text and switch off my phone to look around. A mess the house was.

“Shall we clean up Berry?” I look at the dog in my hands who didn’t even seem to be bothered by anything. “I swear I talk to you more than I talk to Chan” a chuckle leaves my lips when she starts licking my face.

“Now come on let’s get started.” I place her down and pick up things and put them away. My body needing the distraction but my mind and thoughts running at a speed of lightning.

Emotions running through “my mind and soul”. Cringe lol.

2:30 am.

The sound of the clock ticking was starting to irritate me and craw under my skin.

Worry slowly crawling up my chest. Where was he? Was he safe? Was he okay? Where could he be?

I hated myself for putting my self through this because after the little stunt he pulled causing me to sit in the bathroom crying my heart out for 2 hours begging for someone to come save me. I was still sat in our living at 2:30 am waiting and wondering where he had gone too.

Did he leave me? Surely he hadn’t cause all his stuff was still here.

My feet slowly taps the floor, something I do when I’m nervous. I tag on my sweater which is now stretched out due to the constant pulling. The material laying between my fingers feeling very satisfying.

“Why do you have to do this to me Chan?” I say softly, talking to myself.

The house was quiet once again like I’m used too.

The lights were off except for his studio room led lights that were on and passing through the glass window.

Berry was now sat on my lap cuddling me because I knew she sensed the stress my body was going through. She always just knew and she always tried to cuddle of just play around whenever Chan or I where going through something.

A sigh leaves my lips. I was tired. I needed sleep but I needed to know if he was safe.

I check my phone to see if he had responded but nothing came through and when I was about to set down the phone it stars to buzz making me jolt up. Han’s name pops up with a picture of me and him when we were at an adventure park in Japan.

I quickly pick up the phone hoping that somehow Chan was with him and they were doing some project.

“Hello?” My voice rough but still soft from all the crying.

“Hey baby.” He says softly from the other end of the phone.

“Hey..”

“Are you doing okay?” He asks, I could hear the nervous tone in his voice.

“Mhm” a hum in response.

“Channie Hyung is with us in the dorms okay? He showed up here really upset so we told him to just stay over until everything is calm,”

I feel my heart break into pieces. Was he really that upset that he didn’t want to stay in the same home as me? He knew how I hated when he didn’t sleep at home.

“Oh, okay that’s alright. Thank you for letting me know,” I tell him. A weigh being lifted off my shoulder because now that I knew he was safe I could sleep or so I thought.

After hanging up the phone. I slowly put Berry aside and cleanup the cold plate that’s till say on the table and decide to finish up the dishes.

The scent of soap filling my nostrils and a warm liquid running down my face. Tears.

Who would have thought that I would be here at the age of 25 doing dishes at 2 am while crying.

My vision was blurry and my legs were weak. My heart beating fast as I could hear it in my ears.

My face was hot and my body trembled from the heart aching sobs that left it.

I couldn’t be under this much stress.

It wasn’t good for the baby.

**

Pt 1 ⬇️

[biggestsimponhere]

“don’t touch them” with obi wan x reader please!! a little angst/comfort with obi wan getting protective ☺️

Protective - Obi-wan kenobi x reader

Warnings - Mentions of torture, blood, sharp objects

A/N: sorry this is so late omg 😭

A mission went wrong, this isn’t unusual in most cases except the way it went wrong. You and Obi-wan Kenobi had been sent on a mission on the outer rim. You’d gotten the supplies to the town and all was going well until you both began to make your way out of the town. You had both been too exhausted to sense someone sneaking up on you. Which effectively led to where the two of you are now. Chained up on Dooku’s ship with Obi-wan chained up next to you.

As you began to stir awake you could hear Obi-wan grunting in pain next to you. You reach out with your force to Obi-wan as you slowly wake up. “Well look who decided to join us” Dooku said turning his attention to you. “Don’t touch them, you’ll have much bigger problems than the order if you do” Obi-wan said glaring at Dooku. “Oh? So you do have a soft spot, here I was thinking it would take much more to crack you” He said looking back at Obi-wan. Obi-wan continued to glare at the man, while subtly trying to make sure you were alright. Dooku moved over to the table to pick up what appeared to be a very sharp knife.

You stared as you watched him move over to Obi-wan with it. He crouched in front of him moving the knife to Obi-wans face and running it down his cheek, nicking his face. Obi-wan grunted in pain as blood ran down his cheek. “Stop, d-don’t hurt him, hurt me” You said firmly. “I mean if that’s what you want” Dooku said before shocking you with his force lightning. “Stop! Stop please” Obi-wan yelled. Your face had begun to pale and obi could see you sweating. “Just stop” He said defeated. “Tell me what I want to know and i’ll let you both go freely” Dooku said stopping the lightning.

Before Obi-wan could say anything an alarm went off on the ship. Obi-wan smiled lightly as he felt Anakins force signature enter the ship. Dooku fled from the room quickly. “Y/n, hey, wake up please” Obi-wan said trying to nudge your force with his. He received no response verbally or otherwise. Then Anakin bust into the room. “Master” He shouted as he ran and undid Obi-wan’s cuffs. Obi-wan quickly moved over to you. You were still breathing but very lightly. “What happened?” Anakin asked almost on the verge of tears. You had raised him almost ad much as Obi-wan had. “Dooku happened” Obi-wan said before calling for medical.

Everything blurs as you’re rushed out of the room. Obi-wan watches as your taken away. To medical. Not away. He follows behind them slowly. Feeling awful, like he should be the one on the stretcher and not you. He distantly hears his name. He doesn’t respond. He can’t. “Obi-wan?” Anakin says again. Stepping in front of him. “Yes?” He says but it’s like he can’t even hear himself talk. “You need to get checked out” Anakin says laying his hand on Obi-wan’s arm. “I can’t, not until she’s okay” Obi-wan says. “She’ll be fine, but if she’s gonna be fine you have to be too” Anakin said before dragging obi-wan over to medical.

“Please Anakin, check on her” Obi-wan says as he sits on the bed. Anakin nods and heads out of the room. Obi-wan profusely refuses treatment until he knows your state. Eventually Anakin comes back into the room. Obi-wan looks up immediately. “H-how is she?” He said quietly. “She’s going to be alright master,” Anakin responded softly “You need to be treated” Obi-wan nodded and let the droids finally work on him. As soon as he was treated he rushed out of the room to find you. Once he was in your room he sat by your bedside quietly. If the other Jedi saw him shed a few tears they pretended not to notice.

He grabbed a hold of your hand and laid his head to rest at your side. A few hours later you woke up, reaching to move your hand you noticed a weight on it. You looked down and noticed obi-wan. You smiled lovingly before waking him up with a soft call of his name. He immediately perked up upon hearing your voice. “You’re awake” He smiled. “Thank you” You say quietly. “For what?” he replied immediately. “Keeping me safe” you say, reaching out to cup his cheek. Understanding that he doesn’t believe he did you sigh lightly. He turns his head to place a kiss on your palm before interlacing your fingers. You nod to the space next to you and he climbs into the bed. The two of you drift off into a peaceful sleep. Safe in each other’s arms.

[thisblogisaboutabook]

hi! i saw that you were writing acotar fics inspired by taylor’s songs (which i both love so this is amazing), do you think you can write a fic based on “ivy” ? it always makes me think about the acotar world for some reason. maybe with azriel if you’re okay with that ?

Am I okay with that?? I’m more than okay with that! Perhaps even elated! Azriel is my fav and I had the pleasure of seeing Taylor and Aaron perform Ivy together at the Eras Tour. Thank you so much for the incredible ask!

Ivy (covered in you)

An ACOTAR oneshot inspired by Taylor Swift

Azriel x Reader

Update: Find the bonus chapter here: Solstice Tree Farm (Christmas Tree Farm)

warnings: attempted SA, dub-con, suggestive, language

Warm lips pressed against my forehead as calloused fingertips deftly pushed aside the stray hairs that had slipped over my face.

We’d been wrapped up here for hours. An incandescent glow emanating from us that had nothing to do with the warm fire shrouding us in its flickering light. A plush blanket draped over our naked forms as my hands roamed freely underneath. His skin was warm, heavenly, every sacred inch of it bringing solace to my frigid heart. His own heart responsible for melting away the frost that covered it most of the time.

I leaned up to look at him, this male whom I loved with every ounce of my being. Looked into those golden-flecked hazel eyes that bore straight into my soul, seeing all of me, every cursed inch.

“You’re mine.” I whispered, pulling a large scarred hand over my breast, letting him feel the heart that beat so effortlessly in his presence. “Always mine, right in here.”

His hand lingered there, eyes filled with reverence as he absorbed each beat of my heart, every thought that filled my head, the entirety of my soul that was consumed with him - screamed that it loved him, desired him, belonged to him. Minutes passed like that. My fingers tracing soothing lines around those beautiful scars, scars derived from the ugliest of places. He was my reminder, my hope, that beauty could grow from the ugliest places. He survived the unspeakable horrors of his childhood and became this wonderful male before me. A beacon of hope rooted so deeply into my soul, filling it with rays of love that flooded out the darkness within me. The darkness that-

A hideous laugh cracked through the memory, like lightning jolting my thoughts back to this waste of a reality. My husband sharing some crass tale that he’d recycled with the audiences of various court functions over the years.

I threw back the glass of wine in my hand just in time to catch the attention of an attendant strolling by, placing the empty glass on his tray and snagging two more glasses off of it. I’d need them both to get through his pompous storytelling.

I resented the male with every fiber of my being. I wanted to hate him but told myself he wasn’t that bad. He didn’t hit or threaten violence against me. I had every physical item I could ask for. I even had blissful breaks from his presence, free to roam where I chose in his absence - so long as I didn’t leave Vallahan and maintained a modest, ladylike presence.

He didn’t have the brain to challenge any of the bigoted views instilled in him growing up: belief in the separation of “lesser-fae” and “high fae”, a wife’s place was to sit obediently by his side and look pretty, females didn’t have a place in court politics. I would have never married him, given the choice. But what is choice in a place like Vallahan? I wished Mor were here to suffer through the evening with me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

My life changed the night I met Morrigan - an emissary from Prythian. We instantly hit it off. My husband dismissing her presence as she was merely a female, waving me off to “entertain” her. I led her to my library where we spoke for hours. I could not remember the last time I laughed like I did that night, had I ever?

From the start, I informed her that spending time with me was a futile effort. I had no sway in the court or even with my husband. I once had hope that he’d come around, see me as an equal who was worthy of his consideration. But that was a long time ago and I’d since given up - biding my time with wine, books, and spending his money.

I made a difference in the ways I could without getting cut off from the liberties of leaving the estate. I spent his money in less affluent areas of our city where I knew that it would make a difference. I tipped any server well and even tipped the shopkeepers and clerks, donated gifts my husband had given me that he’d since forgotten about, “accidentally” dropped gold marks as I walked past buskers and beggars in the street. Vallahan was incredibly wealthy. There was no excuse for the poverty that its royalty allowed to befall its “lesser” denizens.

Mor had simply waived off my efforts in sending her back out to network with the nobility and spent the duration of that event with me. We swapped tales of our lands, risqué jokes, of our families. Her family had been much worse than mine but elements were quite relatable. My family saw me as nothing more than a bargaining chip, marrying me off to the highest bidder, having nothing to do with me unless they needed an invitation to an event that could advance their social standing. I couldn’t relate, however, to her chosen family. I had nobody. She smiled, mentioning of a friend in her chosen family that I would love. She claimed we both held silent, observant statures in public settings, and let our true light shine when we were alone with friends. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that this was the first time in a century I’d truly let the light break through.

We began seeking eachother out at the functions she attended as emissary. Using my silent presence, I would garner information that could aid Mor in her peace treaty efforts. She never once asked such a thing of me. It was my choice to offer the information, a chance to make a difference. My idiot husband never once considering that her and I could be talking about anything other than classic literature and the latest fashions.

It was months later that I sat in our manor’s great room, quietly reading a book whilst sipping on a blend of spiced tea Mor had gifted me from Prythian. The sun shone through the windows, keeping the room illuminated enough while leaving shadowed corners perfect for going unnoticed and unbothered in.

Hushed voices interrupted my reading as my husband and a stern looking red-headed male entered the opposite end of the room, seating themselves in front of the fireplace - their chairs facing away from me. Without noticing my presence, they began speaking of communications between his court and the mortal queens. My ears perked at the mention of Koschei and something about an alliance. The males were interrupted by a house attendant informing them that their private lunch was prepared and awaiting them in the dining room.

The next time I spoke with Mor, her brows furrowed at the mention of the conversation, asking me to describe the male as best I could. I gave her the best description I could including his red hair, cold expression and baritone voice. Her jaw slackened, mouth forming an “Oh” before she muttered, “Fucking Beron.”

My eyes widened at the name. Beron Vanserra, the High Lord of Prythian’s Autumn Court.

From there, Mor asked if I remembered the friend she’d mentioned before, the observant one with quiet wit. As I nodded, she placed a gentle hand on my leg, quietly stating, “I need your help.”

We made a plan to meet up with her friend the following week as my husband traveled to Rask for meetings. I met Mor at the quarters she stayed at while on the continent. The room smelled of her and an intoxicating aroma of chilled mist and cedar. Mor hugged me before saying, “Y/N, meet Azriel. Spymaster of the Night Court.”

Any expectations I had of the “friend” Mor mentioned flew out the window. I never thought to question whether her friend was male or female, if they were high-fae, what they looked like… maybe I should have. I had to look like a fool as I gaped at the gorgeous male stepping out of the shadows and into the room’s light. Gold-flecked hazel eyes met mine as I marveled at the towering male before me. Raven-black hair, tan skin with tattoos peaking over the top of his black tunic, and the wings, oh they were incredible. The sun highlighting the subtle hues of red undertones throughout their massive form. An Illyrian. I’d read of the Illyrian warriors of Prythian in texts but I’d never seen one in person.

His jaw dropped for a moment as he looked to my feet where shadows were swirling. He apologized profusely as they ignored his command to return to him, stating that they had never done this before. I gave him a puzzled look before he continued, telling me that he was a Shadowsinger.

A Shadowsinger. I thought they were myths but here he was. This gorgeous, living, breathing male before me. As real as the palpitations I felt in my heart under his gaze.

Quickly I regained my composure as the three of us sat to discuss the information I’d gleaned from Beron and my husband. And from there, we worked together. The more information regarding a potential alliance we had, the more efficiently plans could be made to prevent it. Both Mor and Azriel respectfully ensured that I was comfortable with an increased spy presence as I worked with them. The risks of infiltrating were numerous but the risk of a potential alliance with Koschei outweighed any risk on our ends.

Azriel would sneak into court functions with Mor as she attended her standard emissary business - his shadows shrouding him from view, and I would meet with either Azriel or Mor anytime my husband was traveling on business to discuss the latest information from around the manor.

While my husband was completely oblivious, his family was dangerous. An elite family of nobility who dealt in bloodshed and blackmail. I was truly fortunate to not have been married off to one of his brothers - my husband being the least terrible of them all.

That night as I lay in bed, I found my heart racing. Not from fear but from…. Excitement. Azriel’s presence made me feel hopeful, giddy. He continued bringing up his concern for my safety during our meeting to which I insisted that I could handle myself. His persistence enough that by the end, I allowed him to send a shadow to accompany me for the time being.

I came to find the little shadow comforting. I knew from my studies that they were to be feared, yet I couldn’t help but enjoy its company. I began talking to it when nobody was around going as far as reading to the thing. Gods, had I really become so lonely that a shadow brought me joy?

The first time I met with Azriel alone, he gave me a mischevious grin. When asked what it was for, he just shook his head with a little blush rising to his cheeks. I shared my newest information while his eyes held a playful glint the entire time he listened. I finally elbowed him and insisted he tell me what he found so amusing.

Finally he spoke, “I enjoyed the smut you read to my shadow”

“WHAT!?” I asked, embarrassment rising to my face in an unflattering shade of red.

“My shadows… they tell me everything.” He quipped.

I looked at the shadow now cowering behind my ankles, “You traitorous little shit. I thought we were friends!”

Azriel laughed as the shadow wound up my body and nuzzled my face, a plea for forgiveness. I laughed knowing I should have expected it to relay the information to him.

I smirked, “I forgive you.”

The shadow danced joyfully in response.

Azriel leaned closer, “You seem to have made quite the friend out of that one.”

I nodded in agreement. Blushing at the closeness between our faces.

He smiled. “I’d like to be your friend too.”

Before I could give it a second thought, I closed the distance between us. I had just met this male, barely knew him, but something inside me tugged. Pulled me toward him. I couldn’t hold myself back. It was instinct. My lips needed to be on his, belonged there.

For a moment, he pulled back and looked at me. His eyes searching deep within mine, second guessing, searching for any doubt, seeking permission though I was the one to initiate the kiss.

It was wrong. I knew it was so wrong. I didn’t care. I never had a choice in my marriage but this, it was something I was choosing for myself. So long as Azriel wanted it too.

“Please” I whispered.

It was all he needed to hear before his lips were crashing into mine again.

That was the night the bond snapped into place and my soul became his entirely. Every fiber of my being belonged to him regardless of wherever my physical presence may be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

As days and weeks flew by, I snuck out to him anytime I could, and when I wasn’t with him - a shadow always kept me company.

Azriel purchased a small cottage in the forest with a stone foundation, just large enough for the two of us. Ivy wound up the sides of the dated building and it’s shutters hung loosely. Most would look upon the home and turn their nose up to the state of it. But to me - to me it was everything.

We made love day and night, any time the coast was clear I sought him out. We shared our deepest secrets, held each other as we shared the heartbreaking traumas of our past. Mor met with me less and less, certainly Azriel’s own doing. Though she always sent her regards. I missed her but couldn’t resist the relief I felt at the increased opportunities to meet with Azriel.

This home felt so inviting. I never wanted to leave the cozy embrace of it, or Azriel. The places I had lived in my life were grand by any standards but they were not home, only large shells of loneliness with the sole purpose of containing bodies and furniture for those bodies.

But this, this small cottage, it was home. Azriel was home. Love and warmth encompassed me as soon as I’d walk through the doors and into his strong arms. Our scents intermingled, bodies intertwined, his love rooting itself like Ivy deeper and deeper within the cracks of my stone encompassed soul, tethering us together until I didn’t know where I ended and he began.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks turned to months and my resentment towards my husband only grew. I began sneaking off to my home even when my husband wasn’t traveling. The fact that he didn’t notice my frequent absence was both a relief and infuriating. He thought so little of me that he’d never once considered what I could be doing behind his back.

I hated the nights he sought me out. Azriel and I both knew it was inevitable and in order to prevent any suspicion I complied. The entire time I’d close my eyes and picture the corded muscles of Azriel’s arms pressing on either side of my head, warm breath heating my neck as he peppered kisses and nipped down it and across my collarbone, wings cocooning us until we were the only two people in the world.

The times my husband would reach for my hand were rare as it was and now his touch just felt invasive, wrong. I longed for the feeling of Azriel’s freezing hands holding mine as we walked in from the snowy wood, the way he’d place a hand on my cheek allowing me to rest my weary head as I cried over our circumstances. I wanted nothing more than to flee with him but if we were caught….. a gods damned blaze would ensue.

Bond or no bond, my husband’s father would never forgive such an injustice toward his son, deeming it an insult to his entire family. He had enough pull with Vallahan’s Leaders that peace treaty talks had the potential to fall apart under his guidance. I was just one female and not one that a war would be started over, however, it could be the final straw leading to an alliance between the mortal queens, Koschei, Vallahan, and Beron’s people. The alliance being what started a war.

This fire we started together, the fire he started when he came into my life, the one that I fueled with a single kiss, it could burn so much more than just us.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I once again was brought from reflecting by my husband’s nails-on-a-chalkboard voice. Gods, I was tired. Tired in every sense. Azriel and I had argued the previous night. He had insisted that he would not sneak into tonight’s event, sensing an increased possibility of us being caught. I knew he was right but it was one of those nights where I selfishly wanted nothing more than to run away with him.

My husband’s family traveled to our estate for the weekend, his mother had passed long ago, so it was just his father and miserable brothers visiting. Their attendance escalating risks but also offering the potential of pertinent information being exchanged.

I longed to feel his presence but no sign of his scent filled the air, no sign of his shadows grazing the nape of my neck in greeting aside from my one constant companion. As the evening’s festivities died down I bid the remainder of the party goodnight. I joined my husband’s side to let him know that I was retiring to my chambers, pressing a hand to my forehead, citing a headache. He scoffed in return.

“You are drinking too much. It is a poor reflection on my status as head of this household if you cannot control your alcohol consumption.” I rolled my eyes, turning to retreat as he grabbed my arm firmly, yanking me back to him, “You are lucky we have an audience right now. You would be wise to show me respect.” He was always like this when his family was present. Another mark on the long list of qualities I despised about him.

I said nothing more and wound through the corridors toward my chambers when hushed tones caught my ear. The gravelly voices of my father and brothers-in-law carrying to me. I halted my steps, silently padding closer to the room they occupied.

His father spoke first, “We will approach the King when we return home, regarding the pressing nature of the alliance. Between that whore emissary nosing around and the overgrown bat, we can certainly allude to the benefits of an alliance with Koschei and the queens. Prythian nosing around in the affairs of our kingdom will only work to our advantage.”

The eldest brother chimed in, “Do you think Koschei will hold to his end of the bargain - that we will each receive a territory to overrule in Prythian once it’s been conquered?”

“Considering we have the key to freeing him from the lake he’s confined to, he’ll do anything for us, and when we capture the bat - it will only enhance the deal. Think of what could be achieved with the Shadowsinger under his control.” His father replied.

Shit

I needed to get to Azriel now. How did they even think they could capture him? The fools were so sure of themselves, fueled by pure male arrogance. Quietly I turned around taking a few silent steps away before quickening my pace. I left Azriel’s single shadow that still kept an eye on me to spy on the rest of the conversation.

Rounding a corner toward the cloakroom I crashed into a body. I looked up to find my husband staring at me. “Where are you going?” He murmured. Clearly drunk.

“I needed fresh air, my stomach is hurting.” I lied.

“That can wait. You’re coming with me.” He stated flatly. Lust clouding his eyes.

Shit!

I couldn’t turn him down without raising suspicion. Finding Azriel would have to wait until he was asleep.

I turned to stride down the hall alongside him. Silence filling the air, his scent gagging me.

We entered his chamber and he locked the door behind him before pushing me back toward the bed. Once the backs of my knees met the mattress he shoved me back onto it, not even bothering to remove my dress. He simply raised my skirts, fumbling with the laces of his own pants.

I felt sick. I hated contact with him, the resentment I felt burning like a living flame inside of me - forging itself into pure, solid hate.

“Look your husband in the eyes, wife. Is it not enough that I clothe you, feed you, give you a home only outdone by a castle?”

My brows furrowed as he continued, still fumbling with those laces.

And I was the one who couldn’t control my alcohol consumption

“You seek the company of a lesser fae? Allowing yourself be sullied by that beast?”

“What are you talking about?” I asked innocently. It was then that he backhanded me and spat “Don’t play dumb now, whore.” I cried out at the surprise of the lashing. “Since you’re going to act like a whore I’ll treat you like one.”

“It’s a shame that you couldn’t control yourself. You almost got away with it until you were spotted with that thing yesterday - spotted by my own brother.” Sneering, he continued, “Oh but they have plans for that brute and you are the key.”

With that he pulled out a knife, holding it just above my throat, his hand slightly shaking. Panic started to fill me as the realization sunk in that he was going to use me as a lure to capture Azriel. I swallowed that rising panic praying he hadn’t felt it through the bond.

I had to act now. Turning my head, nearly nicking the flesh of my neck on the blade, I gasped as if I saw something - someone - enter the room. The drunken idiot fell for the rouse. I grabbed his wrist, shoving the knife back and kneed him with all the force I could muster right in the balls.

He rolled off of me and I swiped the knife from his hand. Before he could call for help, I took the opportunity to press it to his neck. Azriel’s shadow returning to me just in time to bind his arms together.

”You thought you could assault me? You couldn’t even handle the laces of your pants, let alone a dagger.”

He looked at me, eyes wide, that lust in his eyes taken over by fear.

“I thought you to be better than your father and brothers but I see your true colors now.”

He opened his mouth to cry for help but I sliced the dagger across his neck before he could make a sound.

“Fool.” I muttered and walked away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The manor burned in flames behind me. My body clothed in spare garb kept in the staff supply room as to not attract any suspicious eyes in the streets. The staff had all returned to their own homes for the night with our essential staff returning to their on-ground quarters, separate from the manor. I stashed as many jewels and gold marks as I could into my clothing. I would find a way to distribute the wealth to displaced staff once I found a safe way to do so.

But now all I could think of was the path ahead. My husband was gone. His awful father and brothers too. Gone before they could ever share their suspicions of Az and Mor with the king. Gone before they could further influence the forming of an alliance. Their remaining ashes would be nothing but dust in the king’s ear by the time the fire burned out. Prying eyes would assume I had died in the blaze as well.

The realization hit me as I made my way through the streets: I was free. For the first time in my life, I had the choice to follow my own path and I knew exactly who that chosen path led to.

All that remained was to run away to him. I sent a gentle tug on our bond but a certain shadow had already went out ahead of me. And out of the dark cover of night, he emerged. His shadows shrouding us like the Ivy on our cottage. Home. He was my home.

~~~~~~~

EPILOGUE

The dining room filled with laughter. Mor sipped her glass of the expensive wine that she insisted she were entitled to after all of the chaos her family -our family- subjected her to. Azriel’s arm rested on the chair behind me as he sat in contented silence, those ever observant eyes taking in his family seated all together. It had been ten years today since we fled Vallahan. Nine years eleven months and thirty days since we’d accepted the bond, and the rest had been bliss. Of course there was always some challenge to arise but nothing that Azriel and I couldn’t take on as a team, as equals.

In the time that had passed, Beron’s son Eris took over his throne after the High Lord died from a mysterious illness with symptoms very similar to the effects of bloodbane.

After I left the room that fateful night in Vallahan, my favorite little shadow picked up very important information regarding the key to freeing Koschei that had been alluded to. It was now safely hidden away under extensive wards in the Night Court, far away from Koschei or the Mortal Queens.

For now, we were safe. We were free. We could conquer anything with this Court of Dreams.

“Where’d you go?” Az whispered, his beautiful voice bringing chills of the best kind to me as his lips brushed across my forehead. I gave him a smile sending waves of contentment and joy through the bond.

“Hey!” Mor said. “Where’s your wine? Az! How could you forget to pour a glass for your lady.” She threw a playful wink in my direction. “I swear, I’m going to steal her from you if you keep this up.”

I said nothing as I looked to Mor, resting a hand gently across the light swelling of my abdomen.

Azriel’s eyes sparkled and he quipped, “I’m taking a break from wine duty, Mor.”

“Chocolate duty would be great though.” I said, looking back to Az. He gave a nod and I dropped the shield that masked my scent from our family.

Cheers of happiness and laughter erupted around the room. Mor let out a high-pitched squeal like I’d never heard as she embraced me. I smiled, absorbing all of the love that filled the room.

This love. This life. It was home. Not a magnificent curse but the ivy roots of my dreamland covering me in love, in him.

[dovithedarklord]

Stucked - Part 3

You're trapped in a game and a new threat is lurking.

..............................................

Pairing: John "Soap" MacTavish x reader, Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader

Tags: Mentions of death, Mentions of blood and gore, Blood and Violence, Sexual Scenes, Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Not Beta Read, AFAB Reader

Trigger Warning: Contains mentions of violence. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

......................................................

Author's Note

I watched too much Netflix on the weekend, so here is the next part! Everything gets even more complicated.

Have fun! :D

Part 1, Part 2

........................................................

"Simon, it's been so long since we met!" Pam squeals, turning to the new man with such enthusiasm as if she really knew him for years, even though you're pretty sure that this strange figure has never paid his respects in the game until now. And the fact that your partner freely allows herself to be pulled into an overly intimate hug makes your stomach turn. Because you get that visceral feeling of a wolf hugging a deer before sinking its teeth into its flesh and tearing it to shreds.

Because you're not so naive as not to know that the newcomer didn't appear here to help you. And all you have to do is look at Johnny and see that cheerful light in his sky-blue eyes, which are too sincere for the stranger to be just a simple side character. No, this man exudes a different kind of menace, and you've died just enough and been in enough pain to recognize the dark cruelty in those warm brown eyes when they look at you.

You take careful steps closer to the porch, and your grip on the strap of your bag tightens almost painfully, as if the poor fabric could save you, whatever might be lurking to pounce on you. Everything has gone through an unsettling change, as if the game has turned into a fleeting mirage, approaching which, instead of the apparent calm, more horrors would await. And you're sure that whatever this goddamn place is up to, it's trying to discourage you from getting out in increasingly evil ways. Why throw in more and more unusual twists otherwise?

And as soon as you step onto the veranda, the wooden planks creak under your shoes, as if the small voice would want to warn you to be on your guard. Although all your senses are sharpened by the stress, and all your muscles are filled with energy ready to flee, you're still unprepared as Johnny hugs you, even though this is the only certain point since the restart, which takes place in the same way as before. But when he pulls you to his broad chest, and his strong arms wrap around you, your heart skips a beat because like a lightning strike, the memories of last night come back to you. His hot breath caresses your neck, and as the sensitive skin begins to tingle wildly, your stomach shrinks to an impossibly small size, because the burning reminder of his touch smolders in each and every pore of yours. As if every inch he touched in the suffocating darkness of the kitchen would be covered in aching flames at the same time, so that you know where he marked you for himself.

And your body acts almost on its own, because as you feel the hardness slowly coming to life in his groin pressing to your stomach, visceral fear rushes through you, and you want nothing more than to run away. Your hands come to life on their own, and you push the man away from you so forcefully that even he himself is surprised. And as you step back and fix your frightened gaze on him, you see the grim glint in his eyes, with which he stares at you for a moment. And the little voice in your head that tells you, that your rejection brought a much harsher distaste to the handsome face than any pain you caused him yesterday…

But what worries you much more than this is how, from this small movement, reality suddenly freezes around you, and all eyes are settled on you with such tense disbelief that it makes the little hairs on your back stand up. An inexpressible tension spreads over the faces of your two companions, their delicate features for a fleeting moment resembling more closely to the plastic mannequins standing lifelessly in store windows. You see a small muscle twitch on Rebecca's face, as her wide, glassy eyes stare at you, the gentle innocence replaced by something quite terrifying. Her fingers are clenched into fists with such force that her knuckles slowly turn white, and small drops of blood emerge from her closed fingers as her nails dig into her palm. You immediately understand that you made a mistake. Because this game won't tolerate you openly defying it. It doesn't like it when you stop the sick charade prematurely, because you spoil the fun. Fuck.

"I'm just… a little tired, sorry." You stammer, immediately letting the first words, which form in your panic-stricken brain, fall to your mouth, and as the force that painfully squeezes Pam's jaw eases a little, you know that you’ll have to be more careful. "I'm going to rest a little." You pull a weak smile on your face and hate how pathetically thin the voice that comes out of you is.

The ominous shadow that had sits there suddenly disappears from Johnny's face, and as if the game had calmed down at the first signs of your desperation, the tense moment dissipates, and the stomach-churning peacefulness, that weaves through this cursed fever dream like a disgusting illness, takes its place again.

"Come on, Bunny, don't worry about it." Johnny reassures you, and although his tone is perfectly relaxed, you still discover the hard promise behind the harmless words. This small opposition will have serious consequences, and you don't even dare to imagine how this stupid mistake of yours will affect the course of the already unusual events. "Go unpack. Ye'll need yer strength for the party." He says lightheartedly, and the smile that escapes to his full lips makes your stomach jump uncomfortably, because even though the mask of innocence is now resting on his face, you can already read his every little twitch all too well. And from the way, despite the cheerfully upward curve of his mouth, the same sparkle that you discovered in the reflection of the window, when you were trapped by him in that blasted kitchen, moves into his eyes, and fear grips your insides in an icy fist almost immediately. Because there's nothing sweet or charming about the way your every nerve admits that you've been thrust into the spotlight of a predator's undivided attention.

Without a word, you head inside, almost sprinting from the stress that is awakening in your body, like a scared little mouse that is about to flee from the cat. The stranger, Simon, lets you storm over the threshold, and if your mind didn't cling to every last crumb of your sanity so bitterly, you might wonder why he's cooperating so willingly. Everything has a price and nothing happens without a reason. Every drop of peace, every grain of kindness is a deceptive trap. But you want to escape too quickly.

Your pulse is pounding in your ears as you run up the stairs, and you automatically make your way to your room, because even if someone would wake you up from a dream, you'd find it, you've wandered through this horrible house so many times. You almost tear open the door as you rush in, and you slam it behind you with such speed that even you get startled by the impact. But nothing happens, no one comes after you, and when you finally calm down and sure that you were able to hide from the prying eyes, you stumble through the friendly little room panting, just to fall on your bed with trembling legs.

Burying your face in your hands, you try to hold back the start of the scream slowly rising in your throat, and between the wooden paneled walls only the gentle rustling of your breathing echoes, as you try to swallow the air in heavy gulps from panic, to see if your lungs will be filled with peace along with the fine particles of dust. And it takes what seems like a thousand years before the frantic beating of your heart finally eases, and you dance back from the panic attack that the last few hours you experienced so enthusiastically drove you towards. Goddamnit.

Everything went so awfully well, you finally started to understand the rules, you navigated yourself through the maze of clues, you really made progress, but now everything seems to be collapsing like a damn house of cards. You've already died twice without having a chance to progress, and if that wasn't horrible enough, Johnny's strange behavior, his increasingly dirty tactics, and the arrival of the newcomer shake this hellish vision-like torture chamber to its foundations. And now you're not even sure how to move forward, because you feel that every single step you take forward is followed by an even more cruel pushback, and with every minute, every hour, every night you spend here, you drift further away from the way out. Although, you want nothing more. For real air caress your skin, the ringing of the laughter of real people in your ears, and to finally not suffer and hurt, again, and again, and again... Enough!

You run your hands through your hair with a frustrated sigh, and you'd like to pull out the strands in clumps, but you know that it won't make the situation any easier or any less complicated. You have to find a solution because whoever or whatever created this game is meant to keep you here. It occurs to you that maybe this damn place feeds on your pain and fear, and if that's the case, then it makes sense that it’ll do everything it can to drag you into even deeper and more complicated problems, where it can watch you writhe in its clutches. But you are stronger than that. The instinct to survive and the desire for freedom is much stronger in you than to let yourself be trampled. You won't let those killers in sheep's clothing, nor the thousands of dangers lurking around you, deter you from your goal.

And when you feel that enough confidence has returned to your limbs, and your legs can safely support you, then although the trembling of terror is still there in your muscles, the fog of alarm has lifted from your brain enough so that you can focus on planning. You can't do anything else but wait to see how the story develops with the new character, and watch in the background to observe what else changes. You need to gather information, because you're almost certain that Simon is another killer who will try to hunt you down. And thus three possible attackers will be panting in your heels. You have to be careful, and you have to move forward now, because you can't waste another night on distractions. Today you have to get behind the locked door. No matter what it takes.

And that suddenly reminds you that maybe it's time to check the key you got. But as your fingers reach into your pocket, they feel nothing but emptiness, and this makes you rummage through all the hidden corners of your jeans, but the miserable little object still doesn't appear. It wouldn't be the first time that some clues don't pop up again where you previously hid them, which is why, even though you have a bad suspicion in the back of your head, you keep your composure and turn towards your bag carelessly thrown on your bed. But no matter how deep you dig among the many clothes and small trinkets, you can’t seem to find what you’re looking for. And then the dreadful feeling claws into your stomach with an iron fist, and like a deadly poison, fear snakes its way into your cells, paralyzing every single nerve.

You grab your bag with hasty movements, and you turn it upside down so hurriedly to violently shake every hidden knick-knack out of it, that the thousand and one personal belongings hidden inside land with a dull thud on the floor. And no matter how you try to scan through the chaos with your eyes, no matter how you search among your clothes scattered on the ground with your hands, there's no sign of the key, as if it had been swallowed by earth. And your mind immediately tries to produce a series of solutions to somewhat alleviate the bitter taste of despair bubbling up in your throat, but each answer that seems likely pushes you further and further towards hysteria. It's possible that the key has returned to its original location and you have to go get it again, but this is a more solvable problem. But if the key has completely disappeared, it means that the game has rearranged the clues and you can start the pursuit all over again, because you have no idea what the path you need to take can be... meanwhile, one more danger is out to get you. This damn, trashy, vile game!

You feel the weight of realization sinking deeper and deeper into you, and with each passing minute, the situation you have fallen into seems increasingly hopeless. And it makes no sense for everything to turn upside down so suddenly, but no matter how hard you try to put together the puzzle that could help you decipher what caused the tiny little moment that started the whole upheaval like an avalanche, you can't figure out what you could have messed up. But you're sure it has something to do with Johnny. His lustful adventure was the catalyst for the whole unimaginable complication, and since then nothing has been the same. And if everything took a dark turn because of him, then it will be worth keeping an eye on him, because he can only bring more trouble to your head.

But as you look around the room with the confusion of a chased animal, your senses, dulled by stress, still find something utterly alien in the false calm of the neat little room. Because you're pretty sure that until now none of the books resting on the bookshelf had an intelligible title, but only a random sequence of letters on them, which always looked more like a gibberish language that appeared in a dream than any real one. But now you're definitely reading meaningful words on the spines of books, and that makes your body charge towards the bookshelf in a minute.

And when you get closer and read the message that appears on them, you're already quite sure that this miserable game wants to contact you. Because even though none of them would make sense individually, as you turn your head and read the titles outlined on the shabby covers one by one, you quickly understand the message:

Let me help you a little, Bunny :) Open me!

This is the first time that the system has given you such an obvious sign, so even though a thousand alarm bells are ringing in your head, your curiosity is much stronger. And you have a fleeting feeling that you’re not in a position to say no.

You reach carefully for the last book, which encourages you to dig in with a hypocritical kindness, as if something terrible could happen at any moment. And you already know this miserable place too well to know, that behind every seemingly innocent thing, something quite horrible can be hidden, like a demon waiting to break your neck when you are unwary.

But, when you pull out the volume, not a single monster jumps out from a secret corner to take your life, and although this eases the gnawing worry in your stomach, it doesn't completely put your suspicion to sleep. But when you open it, you're greeted with blank pages, and you flip through the wretched book in confusion, until finally a short message becomes visible. And although there are only a few short lines, it's enough to plant the seeds of terror in your mind.

I won't bite, don't be afraid,

I just want a playmate,

And if your blood is shed once more by my kin,

Whose mark has already bloomed on your skin,

Then you'll fall into the abyss deeper,

And you'll stay here with me forever :)

And you don't have to be particularly smart to understand what the game is trying to tell you. Because your trembling hand finds the strange mark on your stomach through your clothes, which starts to burn your skin with almost boiling heat. The lines stare mockingly at you, and you can almost feel how this devilish place laughs at you, as despair takes over you. You can't die by the same hand again, because if you do… you'll never get out. And that's enough to push your already worn-out body to the brink of fainting.

The first searing agony of a migraine-like pain rips into your head, because the hundreds of thoughts echoing in your mind strain uncomfortably against your skull. As if the world would start spinning with you, and you weakly let the damned book fall out of your hands. You unconsciously stumble over the traces of disorder lying on the floor, and drag yourself to the bathroom to freshen up a bit. There are too many new stimuli, everything is happening too fast, and you must not fall apart now. Because this new rule has put a rope around your neck, and it only takes one wrong move to strangle yourself. You can't let this happen.

You need all your strength, as Johnny so aptly remarked earlier. Because you feel in your bones, how the sour disappointment settles into them, that from now on everything will be much more difficult, and you'll have to overcome even more obstacles. Like rolling a large rock to the top of a mountain, which at a careless moment can bring you down with it. But you don't give up. You never give up.

In the small bathroom, you stagger to the sink and, still lost in your thoughts, you open the faucet, so as the frosty fingers caress your skin, the chaos raging in your brain begins to ease a little. Collecting a little water with your palms, you sprinkle your face, and as soon as the cold droplets bite into your skin like small needles, then despite the unpleasant feeling, you repeat your movement, as if this could be the solution to how to escape from the corner where the game is slowly driving you.

And although it doesn't completely remove the stress that is slowly turning into exhaustion from your limbs, the cold sobers you up just enough, that when you reach for the towel and bury your face in the soft cotton, the aching tension that settles on you dulls a bit. You need a plan. Because if that's true, then your hours are numbered. The masked killer can't kill you more than once, because that means you're stuck here. At best, you have two more chances to die with impunity, and then you're racing against time and the game's nefarious moves. But how do you stay alive in a horror game long enough? Anything can cause you to lose, and in light of new developments, you can no longer be sure that the same steps will raise death flags as they did until now. What will happen if you survive the night? The next day dawns, and? What's next? A completely unknown storyline will unfold in front of you and the chances of you surviving it are very small.

With a tired huff, you throw the towel back on its holder, and your mind is too busy with your racing doubts to notice in time that you’re not alone. You only break out of your thoughts when you return to the room and are greeted by someone, who appeared there like a ghost. Silently and uninvited.

You knew at first sight that Simon is not an ordinary character, and as he stands in the middle of a room bathed in the light of the setting sun, and the golden rays wrap his tall figure in a warm embrace, you realize that your intuition wasn't wrong. If you hadn't already seen enough horror hidden behind angelic faces thanks to Johnny, you'd let him lull your suspicions. But you see how menacingly the muscles are bulging under his sweater, and you can immediately imagine that those strong hands, which are now calmly lifting a bra from the hurried mess left behind, could snap your neck in an instant. You're not fooled by the nonchalance with which he raises the black-laced underwear in front of him, because you can see the merciless hunger in those dark eyes, that you encounter in his friend's as well. This man is as dangerous as anything else in this nightmare. And despite all the attractive features that peek out from under the black mask, you know that behind the beauty lies a bloodthirsty intention.

"I see you unpacked." He notes without any hint of unease, and his deep voice hits you completely unexpectedly. It's interwoven with a strong accent, which could even make the words that roll off his tongue deceptively attractive, and the pleasant hoarseness makes your stomach flutters in confusion. Not because you are naive enough to allow yourself to be seduced, but because he speaks to you with such an intimate tone that belies your very recent acquaintance. Although as the story stands, you’re not a stranger to him, but he very much is to you.

And at other times, maybe you wouldn't attach any importance to it, and you wouldn't mind him looking through your personal belongings, because nothing is yours. Not the clothes, not the shoes, not the shampoo, not the shower gel. Nothing. Only objects generated by the game, with no emotion attached to them. Now, however, as he stands there among the clothes scattered on the floor and slowly holds the bra to his face, and despite the mask, he inhales its scent with a deep breath, you feel an uncomfortable tension wash over you. Because he doesn't know that you've never worn that little black piece of clothing before, and probably never will, and that's what makes the situation so bizarre... The whole movement, as he closes his eyes and buries his nose in the fine material, creates something quite obscene, which makes the lump that you just managed to remove cling to your throat with renewed force. What the hell is he doing?

"I was just looking for something." You break the silent moment, hoping that whatever he's doing you'll disturb him enough with your little comment so that he finishes it. But as his eyelids open lazily and he glances down at you from under his blond eyelashes, you regret that you drew his attention to you. The darkness that settles in those brown eyes is unmistakable and makes goosebumps prickle instinctively through your body. Because his gaze makes you feel like he's flaying you alive with it, so that he can get to your desperately pounding heart by the shortest route. And you're pretty sure that he can clearly hear your pulse racing between your ribs, because there's no other way to explain why amused wrinkles gather around his eyes.

"Did you find it?" He continues to inquire unperturbed, throwing the underwear back on the ground. And when his gaze almost immediately falls on the book resting on the floor, the snow-white pages of which shine with bleak emptiness between the walls of the room that are slowly enveloped into semi-darkness, then you know that he didn't discover this little thing just now. Because he studies the barren pages as if he knew the secret it revealed to you.

"I think." You reply carefully, and you follow every change in his face with wary eyes, because at this point, every little twitch can be a sign for you. You need to get to know the new source of danger as soon as possible, because from here on there is no room for mistakes, unless you want to be trapped in this temporary hell forever. And you rather force yourself and defy the instinct of flight that awakens in your muscles, because you cannot run away.

But when he leaves his place and advances towards you with comfortable steps, you have to try with every fiber of your being to stay on your feet, because his slow walk may seem harmless to anyone, but you recognize the unspoken threat lurking in his movements.

"You know, I showed Johnny this house." He suddenly changes the subject, and it takes a few seconds for you to realize what he told you. And as the conversation that you have already listened to dozens of times at the dinner table pops up in your mind, shock appears on your face much sooner than your brain can prevent it. "At first he didn't see the potential in it, but he soon understood that we needed it." He explains, as though he just wants to reveal to you a long-cherished secret. And the meaning behind his words tightens your throat, as if his long fingers were already locked around your neck. And from the dryness that settles in your esophagus, it's like you're sending blades into your stomach with every swallow.

"It's a really nice place." You mumble weakly, because it becomes all too clear, as he stops a few narrow steps in front of you, how huge this man is. He looms menacingly over you, and as you raise your head, craning your neck at an uncomfortable angle, to direct your alarmed gaze at him, it becomes painfully obvious that you won't survive the new threat once it tracks you down. Terrible power flows from each sturdy muscle, and the little voice in the back of your mind immediately tells you that whatever he plans to do with you, you would have no chance of resisting. And this powerless feeling seems all too familiar, as if you've stood in the shadow of this horrifying force before.

"It will be." He agrees with your statement, and your heart skips a beat in fright, as one of his huge hands reaches to your face and gently caresses your skin damp from fear, as if he were afraid that you would be crushed by even a stray touch. And your consciousness drifting to the edge of blacking out is close to breaking... But you don't dare to lose sight of him. "Somethin' was missin' from it until now." He continues, and there is something sickly private about the way his thumb finds your quivering lips and strokes them with a feather-light touch. "But we have already found out what the mistake could’ve been." He adds, and his gaze sinks into yours with such a significant weight that you understand what he means without him saying it out loud. But the realization only causes even more chaos in your mind, because you don't like what he's trying to imply with it one bit. And no matter how much you try to calm yourself down by saying that only the story reveals the secret motivations of your attackers to you, but the doubt is restlessly scratching in your brain, which screams that this isn't what it's about... Because as his palm slowly travels to the nape of your neck and pulls you to his strong body without much resistance, as the thick arms wrap around you and the bitter smell of tobacco creeps into your nose with the vileness of a poison, then every part of you becomes paralyzed. A fictional character can't suggest that they've been waiting for you until now, right?

And as his free hand wanders to your waist and begins to draw small circles there with mocking tenderness, then the foreboding takes over you with an impossible force. Because there is nothing comforting in the way he buries his face in your hair, and the way the burning heat of his body crawls through the disgusting legs of a deadly disease into your cells icy with terror. And everyone else could think of this quiet moment as intimate, even romantic, but you know the dirty tricks of this fucking game better than that. You know a wolf hugged you to himself. And you just meekly let him decide when he sinks his teeth into you.

"Don't spoil the game because I don't want to punish you." He grumbles, and although his voice is barely louder than a whisper, your ears can hear the warning perfectly. And you don't like what he’s suggesting with his words. Because you know exactly what kind of pain he promises you if you spoil the fun. But… isn't that too early yet? Shouldn't he be playing the innocent character? After all, monsters only wake up with the appearance of night... "Now you've found your way home." He states simply, with a conviction that is impossible to ignore. And that one sentence is enough to make the air painfully stuck in your lungs, and a metallic taste escape on your tongue, as your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, before a desperate scream can break out of your throat. Because now you are quite sure that Simon is not a simple character. He knows what's going on here. He knows you don't belong here. And when, with condescending kindness, he smooths a kiss on the trembling line of your lips through his mask, you already know that he has no intention of letting you get out of here.

"Dinner will be ready soon. Don't be late."  He walks away as quickly as he appeared, and as he strolls out of the room, you're left alone with the suffocating pressure trapped between the cozy walls, which slowly drags your overburdened body under its weight. 

What do you do now?

[utilitycaster]

Level 10!

You may or may not know the drill:

Corrections about actually wrong items or major omissions are welcome. "Um, actually"-ing because I did not list every single spell or feat available or speculate the exact same things you did is not.

Because the cast usually does a brief video shortly before the episode for level-ups now (as they did today!), rather than announcing it at the end of an episode, this includes speculation and a bit of editorializing on my thoughts for the next few levels. This isn't necessarily meant to be accurate to what the cast will do, so don't quote me on it - it's just my thoughts on what I think might make sense or will be interesting. Those thoughts may very well change significantly as the story continues.

Anyway, level 10: it's a subclass-centric level for most of the players.

Chetney: His rogue level means he's blood hunter 9, which means Grim Psychometry, the coolest ability, which grants advantage on knowledge checks surrounding tragic or dark histories, with the potential for the DM to grant visions. Looking forward: assuming Chet keeps moving forward with blood hunter, L10 is a big one for him, as his speed increases by 5 feet, he gets another blood curse, and he gains a +3 (INT modifier) to all physical saves.

Laudna: She took a level in sorcerer, so she gets another sorcery point and another spell, this time up to 4th level; I drafted this post a while back and forgot to check the spell list for sorcerer so you're invited go nuts on your spell thoughts in the notes! Looking forward: Look. I've covered my mechanical concerns about this multiclass. Personally, had I been playing a character with this build from level 3 in a party with another sorcerer, I'd have stopped at 3 sorcerer levels and leveled exclusively in warlock. However, she's now 7 levels into sorcerer and so stopping that to go warlock will probably hamstring her mechanically, especially since the 6th level Undead feature is not terribly impressive. I think one last warlock level might be good for the ASI and the known spell, since warlocks have a more interesting spell list, and it makes narrative sense at this point now that Delilah is reawakened, but then I'd probably continue to take the rest in sorcerer. I AM very interested in how Laudna will deal with Delilah since I don't see her getting another undead patron to replace her, but that's so speculative that I'll hold off until something changes.

FCG: FCG gets a new cantrip, a new 5th level spell slot, and the ability to roll for divine intervention, which promises to be a fucking trip (complimentary). Looking forward: 6th level cleric spells, which he'll get at level 11, have a lot of bangers, but I am personally most invested in FCG's Heroes' Feast.

Fearne: with a 9th level in druid she gets access to 5th level spells, and her circle spells are Mass Cure Wounds and Flame Strike, both of which are excellent. As always for druid levels, Little Mister's HP goes up by 5. Looking forward: I'm assuming Fearne's continuing with druid levels, and if so, the level 10 feature of Cauterizing Flames allows her to use the death of a creature (enemy, ally, or bystander) to create a spectral flame that can either heal or harm others who enter that space. This is amazing and I'm excited.

Imogen: At level 10, she gains another cantrip and another metamagic option. I personally think subtle spell is the best one (and given the Vanguard's tendency to collar mages they dislike, could be huge if they come into conflict), but quickened, which Laudna has, can also be clutch. Looking forward: Chain Lightning does seem like an apt spell for her to take, but personally I'd love True Seeing as more interesting and higher utility while still thematic.

Orym: At level 10, he learns two more maneuvers, and his superiority dice become d10s. There are a ton of maneuvers and I will freely admit I don't know them all, but I do like the idea of Commander's Strike (let Ashton and Chet do more damage), Distracting Strike, or Maneuvering attack. Looking forward: Level 11 grants Orym three attacks per turn, which is really the most fun fighter feature.

Ashton: Level 10 is a path feature level, and we don't know the details of their subclass, so it's up in the air! I'm excited to see what it is. Looking forward: level 11 grants relentless rage; if he drops to 0 HP while raging (for the record Ashton has only gone out 3 times; two were during the Otohan fight and one in the Ratanish fight) he can make a con save to remain conscious.

[volklana]

Love's The Death of Peace of Mind

Title Comes From This Song:

Cannot recommend enough listening to this song as you read it set the whole tome for me writing.

Request: Please I'm on my knees a modern Sihtric x reader where they hate each other. But somehow end up fucking and then become obsessed with each other. I've seen with your Bucky fics that you sometimes use songs so could I suggest The Death of Peace of Mind by bad Omens? I'm already drooling...

Modern!Sihtric x Reader

Warnings: Hints of slight alcohol abuse. If that isn't for you, please don't read, protect your peace and you can catch me next time xx

I don't know why but I hyperfixated on Sihtric's hair in this one??

You felt stupid, walking up the steps to the club with the small gift bag in hand, the loud music already blaring before you even made it inside.

Your eyes scanned the room for the one person you knew in the city, slightly regretting that you had agreed to come out to celebrate his birthday but he had assured you his friends would love you, and when he got down on his knees at work amidst the pile of band shirts you were attempting to fold and begged you to come, you just couldn’t refuse him.

You finally spotted him laughing easily with a group of friends and shyly made your way over.

“You came!” he shouted, placing his drink down on the table and running to meet you, picking you up and spinning you around as you laughed freely, despite your nerves, “You got me a gift?” he exclaimed when he finally placed you down.

“It’s only something small,” you laughed at his childlike excitement.

You had left an incredibly shitty relationship and moved to London, a few months ago, but it wasn’t until you started working at a backstreet record store that you had met Osferth, and surprised yourself at how quickly you two had become friends. 

He didn’t exactly give you a choice.

Soon another pair of strong arms pulled you in for a hug and he introduced himself as Finan, winking at you and you felt your cheeks flush.

Osferth brought you over to the table they had been sitting at and introduced you to a couple who were seated.

“Uhtred. Gisela, this is y/n!” Osferth shouted over the music and Gisela was rising out of her seat like lightning “Finally!” she exclaimed coming to give you a hug, “We’ve heard so much about you! It’ll be nice to finally have another girl to keep these guys in check!” you giggled and squished her back in appreciation, throwing a smile towards Uhtred who was patiently waiting his turn to give you a hug. 

“I’m not sure where Sihtric is but you’ll meet him tonight too,” Osferth grinned and Gisela leaned in closer to your ear, “Don’t be offended if he doesn’t react too warmly. He’s shy.”  You nodded, thanking her for the heads up.

“I’m going to get a drink,” you shouted over the music and Osferth rose too, “I’ll come with you,” he offered and you shook your head, “Stay and enjoy yourself, I’ll be right back!” you countered and he smiled happily taking his seat again.

You pushed your way through the sweaty bodies on the dancefloor, making your way across to the bar and tried to settle the nerves in your stomach. You were so out of your comfort zone, that you’d already decided you would have two or three drinks and dip out early and leave Osferth in the very capable hands of his friends.

You ordered your usual drink and then for good measure, ordered a shot for some liquid confidence. It was then you spotted what you thought was the most gorgeous man you had ever laid eyes on, leaning with his back against the bar, eyes watching the dancefloor with a drink in hand, His black skinny jeans were tucked into a pair of doc martens and he was wearing a grey and black plaid shirt over a black tee, his hair was pulled into a bun at the nape of his neck. He must have sensed your gaze because suddenly his eyes were on yours and his face hardened, eyeing you with uncertainty. You quickly downed your shot and made your way back to Osferth’s table. 

You chatted easily with Gisela, already making plans to meet her for coffee and swapping numbers. Finan was laying the flirting on thick but you quickly realised it was his way of teasing and he almost lit up when you began giving it back just as good.

When you finished your drink, you were relieved when he offered to grab you a fresh one as he went to order himself another pint.

“Sihtric!” Osferth shouted “Finally, come here I want you to meet y/n”

Your stomach dropped when you realised it was the guy from the bar. He simply nodded your way in acknowledgement, and it was only under these lights that you realised that he had two different coloured eyes, and his face twitched in amusement.

“Your friend has a staring problem Osferth,” he teased and you felt your cheeks heat up and wanted the ground to swallow you whole, “I’m Sihtric,” he nodded your way.

 “Nice to meet you, you managed a small shy smile his way and Gisela, squeezed your leg with a knowing smile. 

After a couple of drinks you made your excuses, reminding Osferth that you had taken the opening shift so that he could sleep off his hangover in the morning. Sihtric was once again nowhere to be found, so you said goodbye to the rest of the group, promising you would come out again soon. 

You pulled your leather jacket tighter around your body as you took your phone out to book an uber.

“Leaving so soon?” a cocky voice called over your shoulder and you turned around to see Sihtric propped up against the wall, exhaling cigarette smoke, as he flicked the ash from the top of his lit cigarette.

“Yeah,” you sighed “I’ve got work in the morning.” 

“Thought you’d be heading back with Osferth, giving him his proper present,” he smirked, taking another pull of his cigarette and you glared his way.

“It’s not like that. We’re just friends.”

Sihtric threw his cigarette away and moved towards you, “So you’ve no interest in letting him take you home and having his way with you?.” 

“None,” you shot back indignantly. “Maybe, you can’t keep friends without fucking them, but I’m not like that.”

“Hmm,” he considered, moving into your space, “But we’re not friends, and I’ve seen you looking at me all night. Maybe you’d like me to take you home and show you a good time.” 

You wanted to tell him to back off, to tell him he was reading you wrong. But truth be told it had been months since anyone had ignited this kind of spark in and you had been lonely in this city.

You swallowed thickly as his two mismatched eyes bore down into yours.

“They- they told me you were shy,” was the only thing you could muster and he chuckled, deep and seductively he dipped down to whisper in your ear, hand snaking up to wrap in your hair “Quiet and shy are not the same thing, lady.” 

You could barely keep your hands off each other in the cab back to his apartment. He nipped and sucked the skin on your neck, and you were sure you would have to wear a turtleneck to work tomorrow to hide the evidence.

Sihtric pushed you up against the wall of the elevator and you were almost dizzy when he pulled away, spilling out into the corridor and through the door of his apartment.

He was rough and needy, barely allowing you space to breathe, pulling the sleeves of your dress down your arms and watching as it slipped to the floor, he made quick work of his own clothes too before he flung you on the bed.

He was a commanding lover, marking your body and fucking you hard and fast until you were a screaming mess, which seamed to only spur him further. 

“Say my name. Say my name love, I’m so close.”

You looked up at him through your lashes and it was like his name left your lips of its own accord and he collapsed a panting weight on top of you.

He snaked his hands around you, pressing you closer to him, “Such a feisty little thing,” he chuckled and you wrapped your fingers through his soft hair, pulling the band from his hair and letting his loose curls free, “So pretty,” you couldn’t help but muse, as his curls fell down around his face, but his gaze hardened and it was like the spell was broken.

He rolled off you, and slipped his underwear back on and began rummaging through his jeans until he found his box of cigarettes, he made his way towards the balcony before he threw a glance your way, “Do you want me to call you a cab?”

You whipped your head in his direction but he was keeping his gaze solely on the door to the balcony and you couldn’t help the shame pitting in your stomach. He wanted you to leave.

“Um, no I can get an uber,” you tried to answer nonchalantly, trying to disguise the hurt you felt at being used and the sudden change in pace. 

“Okay,” was all he answered before pulling the sliding door open and stepping out into the night air, as you watched the flame of his lighter ignite the cigarette.

You quickly pulled your discarded clothes back on and fumbled with your phone until you had successfully booked an uber through the app. 

You waited for Sihtric to come back inside, but he never turned to look at you again, feeling your stomach churn when he simply lit another cigarette.

Your phone pinged to say your driver was outside and so you let yourself out of his apartment, and down to the lobby. As you opened the door to get into the back of your car, you risked a glance back up to his balcony, you could still make out his silhouette and the little flicker of a lit cigarette, but he didn’t acknowledge you, instead turning on his heel and making his way back inside, and you cried the whole way home in the back of the uber. 

You never told Osferth about what had happened after you left the club that night, and you gathered that Sihtric hadn’t either. You did however meet up for that coffee with Gisela, mainly because she wouldn’t give you the option not to. 

“You’ve been avoiding us,” she murmured softly.

“I’ve just been busy,” you lied, stirring your coffee more than you needed to, and she decided against arguing with you.

“Well this Saturday is Uhtred’s birthday, and before you say you can’t, I happen to know you have the weekend off. I already checked with Osferth,” you couldn’t help but laugh at her eagerness “Please, y/n. For me. For Osferth. Please come.”

And that was precisely how you’d found yourself sipping a drink on the sofa of Uhtred and Finan’s apartment, music blaring and deep in conversation with Finan.

You were relieved when you arrived that there was no sign of Sihtric, and so had settled into an easy conversation with the Irishman, who was trying to convince you to let him tattoo you, opening up his instagram to show you some of his work.

“Sorry I’m late,” a voice announced from the hallway, hauling in a crate of beer, “My last appointment ran a little over time.”

“Sure!” the Irishman taunted “More like you got carried away with that hot blonde I left you with.”

Sihtric smiled smugly, but his face dropped when he spotted you.

“Y/n,” he acknowledged.

“Sihtric,” you threw back and then turned your attention back to Finan urging him to continue showing you his work. 

You danced a bit with Gisela and Eadith, bumping hips and running your hands through your hair, you were tipsy and having more fun than you’d had in months, before you excused yourself to go grab a drink from the fridge. Sauntering past Sihtric without sparing him a glance.

You were about to close the fridge yourself, when someone reached over you from behind and slammed it shut.

“Were you just going to ignore me all night then?” Sihtric’s sultry voice whispered in your ear and you carefully twisted around, eyeing him cautiously.

“That was the plan.” 

“And why would you want to do that? You were screaming my name not so long ago.”

“I’m a good actress,” you spat and went to push past him, but he caught your arm.

“No, you’re not,” he laughed smugly and pushed you up against the fridge behind, “Bet I could have you screaming my name again right now if I wanted.”

You shoved him off you hard, “Go find someone else to hit and quit. I had my turn.”

Sihtric swallowed hard and looked like he wanted to say something else, but he simply let you push past.

“Are you and Finan a thing?” he asked suddenly, shocking even himself.

“Why would it matter to you if we were?” you shot back “You clearly don’t even like me, and I certainly don’t like you,” you spat before, Sihtric cut you off by crashing his lips to yours. You felt ashamed again when all your resolve melted and you allowed him to pull you upstairs into Finan’s room, taking you up against the wall, you dug your nails onto the skin of his back as you tried to stop yourself crying out when he came undone, panting as you came down from your own release.

“Come back to mine,” Sihtric pleaded and you were snapped back to your senses.

“What? No!” you shoved him off, pulling your panties back up, and watching as his mismatched eyes flashed with confusion. You were not going to give him the opportunity to make you feel like nothing again. You stepped out of the room, not sparing him a glance as you went and took your seat beside Finan, you didn’t see Sihtric again, until he slinked out of the apartment with a girl wrapped up in his arms and you had to hide the tears that were threatening to fall, telling Finan you were just tired.  

You stopped allowing Sihtric to be the reason you didn’t go out with your new found friends every weekend. Instead you both gave each other a wide berth, feigning politeness in front of the rest of the group but not speaking to each other at all aside from keeping the peace.

But why then did every night out end with your hands wrapped up in Sihtric’s hair and his lips on yours, begging you to come back to his place with him, but you always refused.

You tried to convince yourself it was simply sex, but the more it went on the harder it was to deny that you were developing feelings for him. That’s what made it so hard. 

And when Sihtric disappeared for a few weeks, Osferth told you he had gone on a retreat, you scoffed and Osferth looked confused. You just didn’t see Sihtric as the spiritual kind, but evidently you were wrong.

You joined a dating app and pushed yourself out of your comfort zone by agreeing to go on a date. Even if it was just to try to forget about Sihtric for an hour or so.

You spent hours on your makeup and settled on a black satin dress, a baggy denim jacket and boots. You felt confident for the first time since Sihtric had knocked it significantly.

But your confidence was quickly shattered, when half an hour turned into one hour. And one hour turned into two, and your date was a no show. You went to check your messages only to find that he had unmatched you and blocked your number, and that was that.

You had been ordering drinks as you waited and now you were drunk.

“Fuck it,” you sighed grabbing your jacket and decided on walking home.

You were drunk and it was possibly the stupidest thing you had ever done, but you were alone walking streets you didn’t quite recognise after dark and it happened like lightning.

Someone tried to pull your bag off your shoulders and you attempted to fight them off, you barely registered the punch to your pace until blood began to pump from your nose, the taste of metal filling your mouth as your attacker pushed you to the ground and made off with your bag.

As you gathered yourself off the ground you attempted to give chase but he was long gone and you weren’t even confident in what direction he had gone.

You walked in shock for a few minutes, holding your nose, tears spilling down your face and then you found yourself at a familiar junction.

The welcoming light of a lobby to an apartment building that you had been in once. You chanced a look up at his balcony and were surprised to find the lights in his apartment were on. Swallowing your pride you wrapped your jacket tighter around yourself and took the elevator up to his floor.

“Y/n,” he gasped, taking in your appearance “What the hell happened?” he rushed.

But you were frozen to the spot, shock beginning to set in, as you shook.

“I’m sorry to just turn up here. I didn’t- I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Fuck,come here,” he said softly ushering you inside. He was topless, in a pair of low rise black sweats, his curly hair hanging loose around his face, damp from just showering.

“What happened,” he asked again softly and you relayed the story as you trembled.

He looked you over, blood drying on your face, but thankfully your nose didn’t seem broken and you were very, obviously drunk.

“My phone, my purse, they’re all gone,” you were beginning to freak out and Sihtric could see it.

“Shh, it’s okay. It’s gonna be okay, we’re going to sort it all out. Come here,” he subconsciously pulled you to him, rubbing soothing patterns on your back, heart falling at the feel of you trembling in his arms.

“Were you on a date?” he eventually broke the thick silence, you nodded and he tutted “What asshole would let you walk home alone in the dark after you’d been drinking?” 

You laughed dryly and his eyes shot down to look at you like you were crazy “The kind of guy that leaves you waiting for hours, only to stand you up and block you on everything. Just my luck,” you sniffed “The only two guys I’ve been with since I left my emotionally abusive ex have been even bigger dickheads.” 

Sihtric stilled, all actions and you froze “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean that. I think maybe you should just call me a cab and I’ll go.”

Sihtric shook his head, pulling you into the bathroom and seating you on the tub, “At least let me get you cleaned up.”

He took a washcloth and gingerly wiped away the drying blood, you were surprised at how gentle he was capable of being. 

“We should block your phone so whoever has it won’t be able to use it,” you nodded, head spinning and he set about doing it all for you, he gave you his phone to call the bank so you could block your cards too. 

He went to make you tea and it was only when he was out of your space that you allowed the tears to fall, and you sat holding your head in your hands.

“What can I do?” he begged quietly as you sipped your tea, tears silently slipping down your cheeks.

“Can you take me home?” you sniffed “I feel stupid in these clothes. I think I need to sleep.” 

“You should sleep here, I’ll take you home in the morning, you’ll need to call your landlord for a set of new keys anyway.”

“I don’t want to stay here,” you suddenly panicked.

“I wouldn’t try anything tonight, not while you’re hurt,” Sihtric rushed, hurt etched across his features “I may not be a good man in your story but I can be..good,” he sighed in a small voice.

“That’s not- I know you wouldn’t-”

“-But you don’t want to stay?” 

“The last time I was here, you treated me like an asshole, Sihtric, how can I sleep wondering when you’re suddenly gonna decide to kick me out” 

“Y/n” he looked at you blinking frantically, like he was desperately trying to find the right thing to say.

“Please, just take me home,” you whispered and he was nodding furiously before he could change his mind. 

The ride back to your apartment was silent and you kept your eyes trained on the window, watching the London skyline fly by, your head spinning from the alcohol and events of the night. 

As soon as he pulled into your parking lot, you were pulling at the handle, before he had even put the car in park. 

“Y/n, wait…wait,” he grasped your hand, “I’m sorry I haven’t been the guy you want me to be. I fucking wish I could be.”

You pulled your hand out of his grasp and you couldn’t help the tears gathering in your eyes, “You know Sihtric. I could have loved you. But, you just wouldn’t let me,” you slammed the door and made your way up into your building before he could respond and before you lost all resolve completely. 

Weeks passed and you didn’t see Sihtric, nor did Osferth for that matter. He said Sihtric sometimes did this.

“It’s like he hits self destruct, he starts running around with his old friends. He goes on a bender and then he comes back when he’s worked through whatever it is he needed to get out of his system. It’s not the best way to deal with things, but hell if I’d been through the shit Sihtric has in his life I don’t even know if I’d be here anymore. It’s a shame because he is such a sweet and caring guy, he doesn’t deserve it”

You wanted to press Osferth on what he meant, but you didn’t want to seem so interested in Sihtric that it would raise suspicions. 

But it was evident that his friends were beginning to worry about him, you were worried sick but you didn’t even have his number to text him. Was it even your place to do so? 

A loud banging on your door woke you up with a start, and you began to panic, fearing someone was breaking into your apartment.

But then you heard it again, the distinct sound of knocking and someone calling your name, and you flung the door open to find Sihtric, slumped against the wall, very clearly intoxicated and upset. 

“Y/n,” he sighed, falling down at your feet, grasping your waist and leaning his full weight into you, “Please. I can’t stop thinking about you. The way you taste, the way you say my name. Please, I need you to just hear me out.”

“Sihtric,” you cried, raking your fingers through his soft curls, trying to sooth him “We’ve been  worried sick about you. I’ve been worried about you,” you decided to be honest.

“Please, y/n, I’m sick of pretending that I don’t care about you. I can’t do it. I can’t pretend that I’m not head over heels for you anymore,” the last statement slipped from his lips and he looked up at you wide eyed, fearing you would reject him.

“You’re drunk Sihtric, you don’t mean this,” you tried to sooth but hurt flashed across his face.

He suddenly rose up to his full height, cupping your face “You’re all I can think about. I thought by drinking I could forget about you. But I can’t stop thinking about you. You’ve been the death of me. The death of my peace of mind.”

“You don’t mean this,” you repeated, trying to reassure yourself more than him.

“Why do you keep doing this to me? You keep denying me. Keep dismissing me.” 

“You did it first!” you threw, and he had, Sihtric had rejected you first, forced you to build these walls to try to keep him at arm’s length. He looked at you sincerely, confusion written all over his face so you continued.

“That first time, Sihtric, you couldn’t get rid of me fast enough. After you’d gotten what you wanted. You’ve always just wanted the sex you don’t want me and I’m not going to have my heart broken again by another emotionally unavailable man.”

“Don’t you get it?” he spat “You have the power to completely destroy me. You already are. I thought I could stop myself from falling if I made you leave. I thought I could drink and fuck you out of my mind but I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to do it anymore. I need you.” 

He brought his forehead to rest against yours, breathing heavily, his eyes slipping closed as he held your face in his hands.

“You said you could love me if I let you. Did you mean that? Please tell me you meant it?” he begged and you nodded in his hands and he sighed in relief.

“I’m fucked up. I have so much baggage and I will probably fuck up a million times, but I want to try with you. I want to try for you.” 

“I always wanted you Sihtric,” you admitted “But this is a complete 360 and I don’t want to get burned again.” 

Sihtric didn’t know how else to convince you he was serious, so he pressed his lips against yours, Sihtric was not a man of words but he could show you with his actions.

You woke in the morning, encased in Sihtric’s arms, his grasp on you like a vice grip.

When you made to move, he refused to release his grip, snuggling further into you, but relenting when you told him you were going to make breakfast.

You watched him as he scoffed down his toast and took a big gulp of orange juice.

“Did you mean everything you said last night?” you eventually tested, breaking the silence.

“Every word,” he promised, looking right into your eyes sincerely, “I pushed you away because I was afraid to let myself fall in love with you, but all that did was hurt the two of us, and I can’t take back all the time we lost, but I promise I will try to make it up to you.” 

You considered him quietly for a moment, and he swallowed hard.

“I’m not sure how much Osferth told you about my past..but it’s not a happy one. It’s why I’m so fucked up, but it’s not a good enough excuse for the way I behaved with you. When we first met I was on a downward spiral, I had just come from the most traumatizing relationship of my life and you terrified the life out of me, all gentle and tender and looking at me like we could have been something more than just that night, and I panicked and I was cruel. ” 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered “I didn’t know,” you said softly.

“How could you love?” he sighed gently “I never even gave you a chance. But I have tried to be better for you. To be the man who deserved to be looked at the way you looked at me that night when you ran your fingers through my hair. That retreat I went on, I signed myself into a programme to try to get my drinking under control again, I had this whole plan to ask you out proper. To explain myself but when you turned up on my doorstep that night  I realised I was fucked, and the thought of you rejecting me, sent me into a spiral, and I hit the drink again.” He suddenly pulled his knee up to rest his chin on. “Fuck, I’m a lot right?” he suddenly chuckled, extending his hands out with a self deprecating shrug.

“Honestly, yes,” you laughed, examining his face, blushing when you found his eyes were already on yours. You still thought he was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen on the planet and your breath caught in your throat.

“So where do we go from here?” you tried gently.

“C’mere?” he mumbled and you crawled your way onto his lap and he placed feather light kisses to your face.

“Will you let me date you proper? Take you out, show you off, be my girl? No more sneaking around. I want to tell Osferth and Uhtred and Finan.” You nodded, smiling as your heart began to flutter.

“You know Osferth is going to kill me don’t you?” he laughed against your skin and you laughed out loud “And I know that you’re going to have to learn to trust me, I’m not expecting it to happen overnight.”

You nodded, playing with the soft curls around the nape of his neck, and he leaned heavily into your touch.

“I want to trust you and I want to love you.”

“But?” he hummed.

“Don’t hurt me Sihtric.”

“Never again,” he promised, pressing his lips to yours.

“I fucking knew it!” Finan exclaimed, slapping Sihtric on the back.

“No you did not!” Uhtred laughed,coming to clasp hands with his friend, “I am so happy for you both,” he said honestly and Gisela came to pull you into a hug, you released Sihtric’s hand so you could squeeze her properly.

Osferth, who had been strangely quiet stepped forward, a worried frown across his brow, “I don’t know who I’m supposed to warn about not hurting the other. You are both my friends.” 

Sihtric took your hand in his again, pressing his lips to your hand, “I’m never hurting this one. I love her.” your eyes fluttered and you couldn’t help the shaky laugh that left your body with relief.

Sihtric had once said that love was the death of peace of mind, and if that was so, you were out of your own damn mind in love with that boy.

Tagging: @canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @shamrockqueen @thenameswinter99 @foxyanon @acdassenza @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

[amazing-jason-grace]

the case of jason grace’s powers

i was recently reminded of the fact that thalia grace doesn’t actually have to ask for her powers. thalia is freely using her lighting in battle, nobody controlling her power but her. which makes it all the more tragic that jason has to ask.

jason is seen praying to jupiter for strength and for lightning. there was at least one time i can remember where he asked and jupiter sent him nothing. poor boy was left to himself.

percy doesn’t ask poseidon, per “the sea does not like to be restrained”. nico and hazel don’t ask hades. literally nobody else asks. occasionally they’ll pray for extra help, but no other character has to literally ask their parent for one of their main abilities.

you could argue that this restraint is only placed on jason because jupiter is only worried about him, but that wouldn’t entirely make sense because thalia’s nature is much more rebellious than jason’s. she would naturally seem like more of a threat if you were to compare the two. there is definitely a physical restraint put on him from jupiter himself, but this is why i honestly believe that a lot of it is mental.

jason was brought up to be this perfect leader for the legion. the golden child on this beautiful pedestal for everyone to admire. he was always told what to do, what he could and could not. he could not act out. he could not rebel. he had to be the face of the legion and the hero they wanted. after 12 years of conditioning, this is the reality he had lived in for basically his whole life. throughout all of the heroes of olympus books, jason is trying to break free of this leader mentality and learn the importance of working with others on his level. if this is all he ever knew, whos to say that jason’s lightning wasn’t actually entirely controlled by jupiter? thalia’s sure isn’t.

but that’s not to say that thalia doesn’t raise an interesting point in this discussion. it was never said to be controlled by jupiter, but we know that thalia can’t fly like her brother. thalia can’t fly because she’s too scared to. she’s too scared to try. she’s scared of heights. jason is scared of jupiter. if he’s believed it to be a system this whole time, just like pretty much all the other aspects of life in the legion, he may think that he just straight up cannot do something because his father said no. thalia can use her lightning whenever, so why is it only jason that jupiter is supposedly concerned about?

what if it was the legion that was truly responsible for his limits this whole time?

[jheselbraum]

It's 2024 and some of y'all are still whining about Katara being "mean" to Zuko after he joined the party like he didn't directly betray her trust and almost caused her to waste the spirit water on him instead of saving it for Aang which-- while definitely not intentional on Zuko's part since 1) Zuko didn't know that Azula was going to shoot Aang with lightning and 2) He didn't offer or expect the spirit water to be able to heal his scar-- from Katara's perspective the last time she trusted Zuko the Avatar cycle almost fucking ended. Of fucking course it's going to take her the longest to trust him again, she's right! She was the first person to trust him, and he burned that bridge!

Everyone's field trips with Zuko make the most sense for both how they happen and when they happen. Toph trusts Zuko the quickest because she can literally tell when people are lying and is also good friends with Iroh, who's like, the number one "Zuko's not evil he's just in turmoil" guy. Aang trusts Zuko next because he's a fucking air nomad pacifist who is culturally predisposed to the virtue of forgiveness. Sokka trusts Zuko after an intense and prolonged mission to rescue some POWs because Sokka is a warrior at heart and while he like Toph sees the strategic value in Aang having a firebending teacher (eventually), he needs to know how Zuko behaves while on their side before he can trust him. Like-- the change in dynamic between the air temple, when Sokka and Zuko aren't on mission and Zuko is kind of the one "in charge," he has the information Sokka wants but Zuko is the one who hesitates to give it freely and Zuko is the one who dictates how Sokka leaves the temple for the boiling rock, to when they actually get there and Zuko follows Sokka's lead and Sokka is the one calling the shots and coming up with the plans really emphasizes how Zuko works in team setting when it counts.

And Katara's field trip with Zuko has to be her revenge quest, and how Zuko acts during that quest really tells us a lot about what Zuko wants personally from that field trip which is the same thing that he wanted from the others-- jack shit.

Zuko asks Sokka about his mother's death because he wants to better understand where Katara's coming from, and from where I'm standing it's pretty obvious that he only realizes "hey hang on my years at the Fire Nation School For Little Princes might come in handy actually" and tells Katara what he now knows about the raid and who did it.

And throughout the entire episode Zuko is 110% on board with whatever Katara wants to do with that information. If she'd said at the tent "Thanks but the only revenge I want is helping Aang defeat the firelord and ending the war" then he would've just been like "ok"

Zuko makes no judgement call on Katara's use of bloodbending and he makes no judgement call on Katara's decision to spare Yon Ra and every move he makes in that episode is Zuko saying "You're right, I fucked up, and I understand where you're coming from" every move he makes is in support of Katara, she is the one in control in the situation and I think that's why Zuko brushes off Aang's call to pacifism earlier in the episode, because pacifism isn't what Katara wants in that moment.

Like that whole sequence comes from such a genuine place of caring and support from Zuko for Katara and I think the interpretation that Katara is just being Mean to Zuko for No Good Reason really cheapens one of the best episodes in the series as well as the episodes leading up to it.

[fallingtowers]

on the planet of serpent cults, where heat lightning always flickers on the far horizon, the queen of swords roams.

a thief, a reaver, a slayer: she is all these things and more. she embraces danger like a lover, and makes a fool of fate. she knows the five secret ways into the cursed temple, where one false move means death. she does battle with skeleton warriors while the stormclouds gather and the rising wind whips the tresses of her hair, which is black as grief or bright as gold—whatever works best for you.

1929, 1932, 1939—the year of publication is irrelevant; the queen of swords is always in her prime, and never grows old or infirm. if she dies, she will die by the sword, and that will never happen as long as she has an audience, and on the planet of jungles and ziggurats the golden age of pulps never ends. she is often wounded, but there is always a hut with dried herbs hanging from the rafters and a kindhearted peasant daughter to nurse her back to health, until the wound is just another scar.

she has so many scars.

she wears a bikini of bronze scales, which is the expected outfit for a woman in her line of work, but she would have worn it even if it wasn't, because she enjoys showing off. her body is muscular and sword-marked. her girlbulge is considerable. her pupils are dilated and her teeth stained red from chewing a root she got in the silver city, where every building is a generations-old repurposed spacecraft, and all the inhabitants are telepathic, and drugs grow freely in every garden. the root improves her reflexes as well as having an aphrodisiac effect, which is a useful combination on the planet of tombs and warlords, where lascivious sorceresses lurk behind every corner.

(when she was just a boy, her entire village was put to the sword. now she scatters deathblows the way a sower scatters seeds, and plumes of blood sprout in her wake. there is nothing wrong or unhealthy about this. it's the natural order of things, on the planet of conquest and savagery.)

the queen of swords, who dances on the razor's edge, who flouts the laws of men and gods! the horse she rides is always rearing; she is always backlit by lightning; her cloak snaps in the boreal gale. vallejo, frazetta, norem—everyone who is anyone has painted her. her name is whispered in the city of knives, where thieves hide in every cellar and hounds of bone and black smoke stalk the roofs, and in the city of sails, and in the city of broken idols. they speak of her even in the city of jeweled thrones, the greatest of all the cities of men, where sleep martyrs take stimulants that keep them awake until it kills them, and sarong-clad princesses burn for her touch.

though she has visited a thousand cities, she has no home. though she has taken a thousand lovers, she has never married. she lies awake late into the night, turning her melancholies this way and that like puzzle boxes.

on the planet of dust storms and pterosaurs, where every swamp teems with lizard-men and eight-foot-tall arthropodal reavers from beyond the stars descend in dropships made of steel and crystallized honeydew, there is always another adventure. but afterwards, in the silence after the clash of steel, she leaves empty-handed. the jewels slip between her fingers, and when her latest woman asks her to stay, of course she cannot accept. there is always another adventure, another forgotten dungeon or distant beckoning city, and as long as she has an audience, the queen of swords must roam.

yes, hers is a lonely life, but look, look: as she trudges through the violet sands of the southern wastes, drops of rain begin to fall, fat and blood-warm, stirring the hot dust—and the desert blooms around her.

[alpydk]

Do you think that Mystra taught Gale how to use that practiced tongue, or is there another mortal out there that we should be thanking profusely?

Personally, I believe Mystra would have stifled his use of the practiced tongue, but that's another story for another day. When I think of Gale learning his skills like this, I think of pre-orb/pre Mystra Gale days when he was an academy student aged (early 20's) arrogant ball of sex and hormones. I think to one of my favourite fanfics Alchemy 410 by the very talented @the-real-housewives-of-waterdeep (who has been so gracious to lend me Illy for this little scene) - and how this drow elf would teach him to be the man we see and dream about today. So here is my full answer of how it all began:

Perurere

Word Count - 1069 (hehe) - Fluff

Gale was a natural to magic, the weave coming as freely to him as it would a sorcerer born to the art. The lightning crackled at his fingertips; the spell ready to be unleashed. “Perurer” A quick pop before the electricity fizzled into nothing, the amount of r’s required causing him to roll them as if he were Tara settling in front of the fireplace.

The Drow elf laughed at his feeble attempt to cast the simple spell; her own lightning bolt having already hit the target in the courtyard with ease. He patted down his robes, the tension of her observing him creating nerves he wasn’t quite used to. The two of them had studied together for some time at Blackstaff Academy, once glaring across the class at each other, now sharing in competitive banter, trying to push each other towards being the best they could be.

She’d struggled with alchemical potions, and he’d gloated arrogantly. “Not everyone is meant to be good at everything. Unless they’re me, of course, but I’m something of an anomaly,” he’d said with a smugness that he was now regretting entirely.

He lifted his fingers, the spell at the ready. “Puruerer” He knew as he said the first syllable that he had messed it up entirely and she was taking great joy in now finding exactly where his weaknesses lay. He’d always been good with literature, devouring books and knowledge. He’d, however, never been one for the more linguistic elements of reading. Who exactly corrects your pronunciation when you have so few people in your life? “My dear Illyth, your smirk does little to aid in my concentration.”

She brushed aside her thick white hair and stepped forth, ready to demonstrate the spell again to him. She held her head high, her shoulders back, this rare moment where she was the one who shone so brightly, giving her a deep sense of pride. “Well, when you pronounce the words as if your tongue were numbed by Deepwine, I’m going to smirk.”

“Mock not the man that mispronounces a word. It means that he learnt it by reading.” He watched as the lightning flickered so readily from her cool grey fingertips, her tongue curling around the verbal component with ease. He was a little jealous of her skills in this area, her practice with languages not only leaving her skilled in pronunciation but also quick with retorts.

“Mrimm lil faern ulu zhaun lueth ragar natha malla ogglin.” She muttered as she approached him.

“Ah, we mock me further in a less used tongue. How nice it must be to see me struggle for once.”

She bit her lower lip, her burgundy eyes glancing over at him fondly. Their relationship was always one of cat and mouse, the roles often reversing but neither willing to be caught. She approached him, placing her hands on his hips, and lining his body with hers so that they were directly facing one another. She gazed into his deep brown eyes, her mouth in a soft smile at the familiarity that had built up between them. When they had first met, an argument would have broken out over something as insignificant as this, both too proud to admit their faults in front of the other. Now though, they learnt, they grew and bettered each other. “Open your mouth like this.” She pursed her lips slightly, a soft p sound emerging in a whisper.

He sighed. “Illy, my issue is not with the movement of my lips. As we both know, I already have had plenty of practice in that area.”

“Then I guess you will never impress a woman, as lips are not the only element in play.” She ran her tongue delicately over the amethyst curve of her lower lip, a playful taunt to his ever-present ego.

He felt his heart skip a beat, the devious look of her eyes pulling his mind from the spell craft lesson that should have mattered more. He gave a mock huff and pulled the face she ordered of him, believing it ridiculous.

“Now say the spell. Perurere.” The word practically growled out of her as she spoke, her tongue flicking up lightly behind her teeth.

He listened to the music of her voice, watched the way the corners of her mouth subtly rose in an attempt to hide an all too pleased smile. He mimed the spell along with her, his attention not fully on his own attempts to improve, but more on the idea of his tongue entwined with hers; a longing dance they had only engaged in once before.

“Gale Dekarios, at this rate you’ll be summoning only magma mephit for all of eternity. Not to mention letting down many a potential love interest.”

He scoffed at her comment. “I’ll have you know that was only done once, and besides, I didn’t hear you complaining during our brief rendezvous.”

“Beginner’s luck.”

The slight darkened tinge of her cheeks let him know the effect the memories of that night were having, one of truth potions and nararoot tincture. “Hm, well, we certainly cannot be relying on that now, can we?” He leaned himself slightly towards her, his hands placed behind his back, his brown eyes focussed on hers and a devilish gaze passing quickly over them. “Perurere,” he spoke with ease, a charged energy passing between each syllable as his voice hummed.

She felt his warm breath as the spell was pronounced correctly, as his confidence grew seeing her satisfied smile. She reached her hand to his face, a reward for his hard work, and stroked his cheek lightly with the pad of her thumb. “Mrimm lil faern ulu zhaun lueth ragar natha malla ogglin.”

“Illy…” he let out as a barely a whisper, her touch enough to make him lose all composure, her native language another puzzle that he longed to solve about her. “Shall we make an arrangement, of sorts?”

She eyed him up curiously, the warmth of his skin under her palm causing her to wish they could move on to other extra-curricular activities. “And what do you have in mind?”

“I continue to aid you with alchemy.” He brought his own hand to her hip, tugging her towards him lightly, his hot breath mingling with hers, their lips grazing against one another’s. “And in return, you coach me on how to have a more practised tongue.”

_____________________________________

“Mrimm lil faern ulu zhaun lueth ragar natha malla ogglin.” = Guide the wizard to learn and find an honoured rival.

[angelaestheticbaby]

Late night talking

Summary: You long after him, he long after you. It's late night and he's lonely...What could happen?

Warnings: mention of Darklina, ooc Darkling, mutual pinning, sad Aleksander, confessions, smut (fingering, pussy eating, daddy kink, hair pulling), fluffy ending, no use of Y/N, lmk if I missed one

Minors do not read it. 18+ only

A/n: My first writing please be nice. I hope you like it. ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. SORRY FOR THE MISTAKES.

You stepped into his office. He turned from the desk and looked at you. He raised one of his brows waiting for you to explain why your there.

"Uhm..." you tried to start but his presence made you feel dizzy and nervous.

"Don't be nervous." He replies in a calm and soothing voice, "I'm not the monster they make me out to be you know" as he says this, he sets down the glass and pen before walking over.

You can't help but feel a spark of attraction, as you notice his powerful frame towering over you. He smiles, gesturing for you to sit down on the comfortable looking sofa.

You hesitantly sat on the sofa. "So...I-I...the reason I'm here..." you stuttered.

He leans back against the desk, crossing one leg over the other. "You can speak freely, there's no need for fear here" he says, before gesturing for you to continue.

His eyes flicker across to you, studying your features intently. You feel your face go warm as your heartbeat quickens slightly.

"I just wanted to ask...Is it mandatory to appear tomorrow at the party?" you didn't really wanted to see him and Alina flirting all night.

You watch as he leans forward, his eyes still on you as a faint smile forms. "No" he answers simply, raising his head to stroke his chin.

When he looks at you again, the intensity of his gaze makes your heart flutter. "You're not interested in the King are you?" he asks, a slight smirk curling at the corners of his mouth.

"No...I just..." you hesitated before continuing. "It's not my victory. It's yours and Alinas..." you explained.

He gives a sharp chuckle at your words, "You fought in the battle too, did you not? It was the victory of the whole army, including you" When he smiles at you again, you feel even more overwhelmed. "I'm glad that you think that, but the king is very much the focal point of the celebration. You can't just sit out on an event like that" he says in a teasing tone.

"But I want to. I'm not really a party person and I hate crowd" you said. You looked up at him, he's soo much taller than you.

His gaze falls to your lips, before he shakes his head and looks away. "The king is counting on you to be there" he says, trying to sound firm and stern. "And I need you to be there too" he adds in a serious voice. In any other situation, it would be easy to stand your ground, but when you look at him, you feel like you'd do anything for him.

He gives you an amused look, before speaking in a smooth voice once again. "I want you to be there with me, at my side, for the celebrations" he says, his eyes darting towards your lips again.

"You?" you asked confusedly. "But I....We...Aren't you going with Alina?" you felt so lost.

"Alina's a big girl, she doesn't need me looking after her. And I need you" he replies, stepping even closer now. As he speaks, your eyes are drawn to his lips and you feel your heart racing. "I need you to join me on the dance floor" he says in a whisper, leaning closer still and brushing his hand against yours.

"I...I don't..." you were cut off by his soft lips. His kiss felt so calming and exciting at the same time. For a moment, everything around you fades into the background. You're aware of nothing except the touch of his lips and his strong hands holding you. His mouth slowly parts, then his tongue strokes your lips. Then he pulls away slowly, leaving his lips lightly brushing against yours.

You catch your breath, feeling as though you had been hit by a lightning bolt. When your head clears, you look up to find him smiling back at you. He leans in again for another kiss, only for his lips to move to your neck.

"Ohh" you moaned out as his lips touched the sensitive skin of your neck. He slightly nibbed the skin and tried to find your sweet spot. Your body tingles all over as he lightly nibbles your neck, and it's as though your muscles stop working, leaving you helpless. His other hand gently pushes down onto the sofa, urging you to lean back. He softly whispers something in your ear, but you can't quite hear it over the sound of your own breathing becoming more ragged. "Oh...Kirigan" you moaned and threw your head back, giving him more access to your neck.

His lips move back towards you ear. "I've been waiting for this moment" he whispers, his lips touching your sensitive earlobes. His hand starts working its way beneath your shirt, his fingers caressing your skin. You feel yourself completely at his mercy, and this only increases your desire.

"Have...saints...have you?" you were breathless and felt the wetness pooling between your thighs. His hand under your shirt started to wander upwards.

"It's been so difficult not to touch you" he whispers into your ear, his fingers moving up the length of your torso, caressing your waist, your hips. "But I had to be patient."

His hand moves back under your shirt, this time firmly on your back, pushing you into an even more reclined position. His words come out as breaths in between soft kisses. "I want to make you feel like the only girl in the world" he says, before biting your earlobe again.

"You...ahh you already...do" you choked put between moans. He pulls your hair slightly, and whispers back to you, his voice low and husky.

"Good" he leans back in, his fingers exploring every inch of your figure under your shirt. You feel everything building and building, like you're about to explode. As he speaks, you feel his hands move towards your chest. "But I want to make you feel it even more" he says, his voice still in a whisper as his hands reach their destination.

"Ohhh Kirigan" you cried out. You wanted to know his real name to moan it...

As if he could read your mind he said; "Aleksander" he whispers, his voice sounding incredibly soft and soothing as he says his own name. As soon as you hear it, it feels like his name is branded into your mind. As he says his name, his soft lips move down to kiss your chest, and you feel his hands squeezing and caressing you. He lifts his head, and you see a light of desire in his eyes. He looks at you deeply and then leans in again for a passionate kiss.

"Aleksander" it felt so right to say it. "Beautiful" you whispered to him.

"My love" he whispers in reply, his lips still brushed against your ear. His hand shifts, and you can feel him rubbing his thumb along the sensitive skin of your breast. He leans in closer again to whisper in your ear.

"I want you to feel how beautiful you are" his words sound like a love song, his voice being so low and husky.

"Aleksander"

As soon as you finish saying his name, his lips press against yours with a great deal of passion, his grip on you only tightening. His other hand slides back under your shirt and starts exploring the curves and swells of your breasts in a teasing manner.

You moaned as he pressed you into the sofas soft mattress. His whole body fitted to your small one like it was meant to be this way. His hands continue to explore you gently and teasingly. You feel the pace increasing, but are caught in a state of euphoria. You press yourself even harder into the soft seat, your body feeling as though it's lost all function.

He looks down at you, his dark hair lightly falling across his face. Your eyes drift to his full lips, just barely parted as he looks down at you.

"You look...so..gorgeous Aleksander" you brushed the dark curls from his eyes.

"Not as beautiful as you" he replies in a low and husky voice, as his hands make their way down to your chest once again.

"So soft and sensitive" he says softly, caressing you gently before leaning down in for another kiss. As you look up at his face, you notice his pupils have dilated, and his breath comes in rapid and sharp gasps. His lips and tongue gently explore the sensitive spots on your chest. His other hand has shifted up your neck to your hair again, which he gently pulls to force you back into the seat.

"Please" you whined. You desparetly wanted his lips on you.

"My love" he breathes out slowly, his hand stroking your face. He shifts closer to you as his mouth moves further south until his lips touch your soft thigh. He gently pinched your hard nipples and sucked one into his mouth. You arched your back and pulled on his hair. The way pleasure travelled through you made you shiver.

"My god..." you groaned.

His fingers run along your thigh, drawing out sensations and anticipation. Even the smallest touch sends shivers down your spine, as he speaks in a low voice.

"Beg for it" he says, his eyes watching you and that slight smirk still in place on his lips.

"Please...Aleksander...please I need it..so bad" you cried impatiently. He hears your words, as well as his name, and it sends a sharp thrill through his body, only increasing the intensity of your connection. His lips touch you again, but it's light and teasing. He pulls away slightly, his eyes looking down at you.

"You have to beg harder" he says with low husky voice, his eyes still on yours.

"I...please...I'll do anything..please Aleksander" you bucked your hips to his mouth.

His hand strokes your torso as his other hand comes up behind you, gently pushing you into the seat. "That's more like it" he says, the smirk still at the corners of his mouth. "But you still haven't begged hard enough. Tell me who you belong to" je says, his voice taking on a commanding tone.

"You...You Aleks. I belong to you" you said hoping he'll give you want you want.

His eyes look at you with a blazing fire, his hands quickly moving down your thighs and over your body. His dark eyes never leave yours, his breath getting deeper as he watches you.

"Good girl." He whispers, his voice hoarse and husky, as his lips come down to kiss you. You kissed him back. His tongue exploared your mouth and danced with yours.

"Hmm" you moaned happily.

"That's a good girl" he says in a breathless voice, his lips separating from yours for a moment. As they brush against each other again, your lips part to his exploration. You feel every inch of your body being touched and caressed, his hands making you shiver with every movement. He shifts his mouth to your throat, your legs beginning to weaken and buckle under the pleasure overload.

You were so desparet to have his lips on you. You felt how the wetness of your pussy began make a puddle on the mattress. His fingers brushed aganist your wet core and he looked up at you.

"Soo wet" he hissed.

"I want to taste you" he says, his expression turning savage and animalistic. His hand slides back down over your wet thighs, as he looks down at your core.

"Such a perfect pussy" he leaned down and licked over your folds.

"Aleks...saints so.." you cried out. He gently started to suck and nibble on your clit. He talented fingers caressed your slit and pushed carefully into you.

"Ohh my" you stared moving your hips, but he pushed them down. You grabbed his hair and moaned loudly. "Daddy.." it slipped out so easily, but you regret it immediatly.

He lifts his head at the sound of your words, looking down at you with a smirk on his face. "Oh, what did you just call me?" he asks in a low voice and it makes you shiver all over. His hands shift towards your hips once again, forcing you to stay in place.

"Say it again" he gritted out. The way you moaned it made his erection worse. He needed to be in you...But first you will moan it loudly.

"D-daddy" you hesitantly said. Your words have him closing his eyes, his face contorting into a feral expression, he growled lowly. He looked at you with such lust and soft loving at the same time.

A look of pure lust and desire is in his eyes as he stares back at you, his breath becoming sharp and shallow. "Again love" he says in a voice that sounds half wild and savage.

"Daddy" you said much more confident now. His fingers moved fast in you. He leans in and kisses you before slowly pulling away, speaking in a low voice that's just enough to drive you crazy. "Again.." he says, and there's that smirk again, his eyes full of desire.

"You...you like it?" you asked. He nods at you in a slow and seductive manner.

"Very much love" he says, his hand stroking along your jaw. The look he gives you makes you clench around his fingers.

So you said...more like moaned it again.

"Daddy" he gripped your hips in respond. He seems to enjoy the sound of that name a lot, his eyes closing for a moment before he looks back at you. The grip of his fingers gets firmer when he hears it again. He leans in and whispers deeply in your ear.

"Good girl..."

He curled his fingers in you, reaching your G-spot. It made you moan loud. You feel yourself being slowly pulled deep into the sea of euphoria that only he could give you.

"Cum" he commanded. And you did.

His long fingers pumped in you fast and hard, the white, hot pleasure blinded you and you threw your head back. When you came down from your high, you opened your eyes.

He leans in closer to you, kissing your neck. "You're so beautiful when you come love" he says in a quiet voice, still caressing you. "I want you to look at me every time you come"

"This was amazing" you panted as you cling to him. "Thank you Aleks" you kissed his lips gently. He kisses you back, his hands moving down your body.

"Anytime my love" he says in a low voice, his eyes darting around the room. You see the look in his eyes as they land on something that catches your eye too- a beautiful gold locket hanging from the necklace he was wearing. It has your two initials on the front, and for a moment he looks away when you look at it. He quickly looks back at you. "Come here" he says, in a voice that commands your attention.

You moved closer.

"Since when did you have had this?" you asked as you touched the necklace. He looks down at you, that hint of sadness still in his eyes. It's just a small flicker that lasts a split second, before it goes away. But you noticed it. He looks down at the locket.

"I suppose now's the best time to tell you" he says in a soft voice. He takes a deep breath before continuing.

"I had it custom-made. I've liked you for a very long time now. And I knew that one day...it will you that I would want to be with forever. And so I had it made..for the day I had the courage to finally tell you"

"Ohh Aleks. You've been wearing our inatials all this time?" you teared up as grabbed the necklace. You brushed your fingers over it.

He nods at you, his voice low and soft. "I was hoping, you know? That one day you might see it, or notice that it was important. And I was waiting, hoping for the day that you might actually say that you cared too."

The way he says it, it almost seems like he has a difficult time believing that you feel the same way as he does. "I never got the chance to give you the necklace, so I guess that was my way of keeping you close to me."

"That's....I love you" you let it slip out. His eyes light up as he hears those words come out of your mouth.

"You do?" he asks, still looking at the inital necklace in your hand. "You love me?" he asks, his voice sounding both excited and surprised. "Please, you'll have to say it again" he says, a small smile on his face in response to what you said. "So I can hear it for myself to be sure I'm not going crazy."

"I do, for the longest time my love. I love you" you happily wrapped yourself in his hold.

"I love you"

Those words seem so simple, yet they mean so much.

He pulls you in tighter, kissing you deeply. His kisses are filled with all of the love and adoration that he'd been wanting to share with you but never had the chance to. His hand goes back to stroking your cheek, and his lips leave yours for a moment to whisper another

"I love you"

[angelicsatin]

Nora Kaneʿ⬤ᱼ⬤ʾ| Novocaine✧˖°.

art & tempalte by the amazing @shizuwuarts / shizuarts on insta

Full Name: Nora Kane  Villian Alias: Novocaine  Age: 20 (S1) 21 (War Arc) Birthday: November 26 Zodiac: Sagittarius  Height: 4’11 or 150 cm Gender: Cis female Sexuality: Polyamorous Bisexual Blood Type: AB Status: Alive Affiliation(s): The League of Villians  Romantic Interest(s): Shigaraki Tomura, Dabi/Toya Todoroki, & Hawks  MBTI: INTJ Enneagram: 4w5

Quirk: Influence

By making eye contact with another person, the user of this quirk can influence or even ‘gaslight’ them into believing or feeling whatever the user wishes—speaking directly to them and telling them how they want to feel or remember. 

Drawbacks include retinal, hemorrhages/bleeding from the eyes, fatigue, dizziness, migraines, and it cannot be activated through photos or digital images. Additionally, her eyes are quite light-sensitive. 

Her ‘sunglasses’ are her support gear, provided by the doctor. Part of the lens acts like a rearview mirror, allowing her to ‘have eyes in the back of her head’ and protect her from sneak attacks. 

Random Facts ⁩*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Nora attended middle school alongside Hawks/Keigo 

She was raised being taught by her mother, who shared a similar quirk, that it was ‘evil’ and never to use it. 

Joined the League of Villains two months before the USJ attack

Does not participate in the USJ attack

AFO ordered Shigaraki and the league to seek her out to have her join due to her quirk

Shares a room with Shigaraki. 

Keeps her Hawks Pro Hero Figurine collection in her and Shigaraki’s messy room. 

Hawks is the only Hero Nora trusts.

Smokes with Dabi, and Hawks. (and Shigaraki sometimes)

Games with Shigaraki.

Sees Toga as a little sister.

She is considered a ‘burn-out’ by her parents.

Has an AU where she starts a band within the league.

Introverted and a recluse.

Causes drama and acts as a mediator – depending on the day.

She is not that strong, but she is agile and strategic.

Likes

The League of Villains 

Hand-held Video Games

Leisure Time

Pulling All Nighters

Smoking (Marijuana & Tobacco)

Watching Cartoons / Anything Animated

Collecting Anime / Idol / Pro Hero figurines (only Hawks figurines)

Not Paying for Anything <3

Horror Films / Manga 

Being Proven Right / Just Being Right

Heights 

Getting to use her Quirk Freely.

Rock & Pop Music

Drinking

Dislikes

Her Family

Quirk Discrimination 

Vegetables 

Rubber / Elastic Bands 

Breaking a Nail

Oranges

Having to be Social for Long Periods of Time

(Most) Jewelry 

Lightning 

Hot Temperatures 

People Who Disrespect Service Workers

Narrow-Minded People

Hero Society + Culture 

Bright Lights or Being in Direct Sunlight

Bad Customer Service

Personality ❣︎

Positive Traits: Persistent, Appreciative, Supportive, Analytical, Efficient, Observant, Sentimental, Affectionate, Creative, Passionate, Odd, Trusting, Considerate to her friends, Witty, Loyal, Persuasive, Resourceful, Introverted, Accepting and Tolerant, Flirtatious, Passionate, Easy-Going, ‘Nerdy’

Negative Traits: Sleepy, Chaotic, Morbid, Narcissistic, Bipolar, Stubborn, Self-Indulgent, Unethical, Volatile, Temperamental, Selfish, Cynical, Fanatical, Obsessive, Insecure, Undisciplined, Resentful, Rebellious, Compulsive, Irrational, Know-It-All, Disorganized, Messy, Shut-in, Pretentious, Possessive 

Backstory ⊹₊ ⋆

For as long as Nora can remember, her mother always lied about her quirk. Her mother claimed to be quirkless, so she could attempt a ‘normal life,’ as she put it. Watching her mother refer to herself in such a way, caused Nora to develop some deep-rooted self-image issues from before she even got her quirk. Her father was actually quirkless, a deliberate coincidence on her mother’s part – thinking if she married a quirkless man their child would be ‘lucky’ not to be born with such a misunderstood quirk. Unknowingly bringing Nora Kane, a child with a much more invasive version of her quirk, into this world. 

Quirk Manifestation

Around age 6, Nora’s quirk began to manifest and luckily for her, no one noticed at first. She used it more often than she meant to, in small doses. Examples include: Ordering her teacher to allow recess to run longer and ordering others to give her their ice cream at lunch, but slowly those around the child began to realize they had short lapses with memory loss. Eventually, the school called Nora’s parents and suggested that she be examined by a doctor for quirk development. The school staff had begun theorizing about her strength and potential, and they were afraid of what she could do. One hospital visit confirmed the suspicions and Nora had an officially registered quirk. Schoolmates and teachers nearly immediately started to treat her differently. The whispers, avoidance, and quirk discrimination had begun.

Her mother was not happy that her quirk had manifested, especially with how it fully functioned – and was a more persuasive version of her own. It scared her knowing her daughter was capable of making her do things or feel things without her consent. To try and restrict Nora’s usage of her quirk, and to drill into her mind how ‘horrible’ it was, she instructed her daughter to wear a rubber band around her wrist. Making the child pull it, and smack her skin anytime she accidentally used it. Her mother wanted her to associate pain with something she couldn’t help being born with. Fearing her mother and the discipline for her quirk usage, and existence, caused Nora to begin working heavily on controlling her quirk better. 

Despite the effort it took to never use her quirk, her classmates didn’t seem to take notice. At age 8, Nora would overhear her supposed friends talking about her. She had just been passing through the hallway at school on her way to lunch when she could hear them speaking about her in a classroom with a cracked door. She’d stop, hearing her name mentioned briefly, and begin eavesdropping when she heard the rest. “Nora’s quirk is scary!” “I know! She can make us do anything she wants, and we wouldn’t even realize it!” “I’m scared she’ll use it on me.” Nora’s heart dropped as the next kids added on. “It sounds like a villain quirk to me.” “I wonder what her villain name will be.” They went on and on. 

She felt nothing but anguish and hurt. Adrenaline flushed through her veins and small frame, as her heart thudded within her chest. Without stopping for a moment to think, Nora pushed the door open and rushed inside. Tears streamed down her cheeks as she met their eyes, fear was the only emotion she could sense from them. “Stop talking about me like that!” Nora screamed, her voice coming out as a shrill roar,, activating her quirk without really realizing it. “Stop thinking about me! Don’t talk about me! Keep my name out of your damn mouths!” She shouted out, her words laced with venom. Stomping her feet in succession to my orders as she kept her gaze shifting between theirs. “You don’t know me. You don’t even know me!” The young girl repeated over and over, crying out and keeping her quirk activated. When the teachers heard the shouting and commotion, they rushed in. Attempting to pull her out of the scene was proven difficult, as she looked at them, eyes meeting theirs before screaming out. “Go away! Leave me alone!” Once the words escaped her, she blacked out. What came next was a blur and something she’d never really be able to remember. When she finally came to and realized what was happening; the sun was setting through the windows. Nora was just huddled in the back corner of the classroom in the fetal position, while the students who she screamed at were sitting at their desks calmly. Slowly, she stood and began walking out of the classroom. As she passed them, one boy looked over at her. “Who are you?” They questioned as she stood at the exit. Nora would find out shortly after, she caused permanent memory damage to those students. They never remembered that moment, her or anything. But… other students informed them as rumors spread, and they were even more frightened.

Middle School to High School

Nora attempted to lay low during the rest of primary school, and once she made it to middle school, she was desperate to fit in. And yet the worst still occurred to her. After school one day, she began her walk home as normal. Taking back alleys and shortcuts to avoid bumping into anyone as she did every day. About two blocks from her home, Nora turned left down an alley as her route intended. Around that corner stood a group of students from her class. There was one girl she didn’t recognize at all, but afterward, she’d come to realize that she was from her elementary school. Nora passed them, pushing ahead and giving them a small smile and nod. This was her mistake. “That’s how she activates her quirk!” The elementary class-mate shouted, jumping back. One of the boys from her middle school had a feline-like tail as a part of his quirk, and before she could tell what was happening, he had already used it to wrap around her waist and drag her toward them. The grip he held around the adolescent pushed the air from her lungs as she gasped out. Harshly, he threw Nora against the wall behind her. Looking up with frantic eyes, she shivered as they all glared down at her with their varied quirks activated. One of which was the ability to form razor blades from their fingertips. She kept her eyes on him as she tried to scramble away, considering using her quirk but Nora knew that would make things worse over time. ”I think we should teach her a lesson.” One kid laughed at the others, using the tail quirk to keep her close and within their grasp. “You’re right, why don’t we make sure she never thinks to look at us with those eyes again-” 

”No!” Nora cried out, kicking her small feet as the boys deliberated. The kid with razor fingers began leaning down towards her, with his index finger extended. She squeezed her eyes shut tight, turning her face down as she pleaded to them. “I’m not using my quirk! I never do!” They laughed at her, rolling their eyes. “And we’ll make sure you never do.” One stated as the razor blade began to slice across her closed right eye. From below her eyebrow to the top of her high cheekbone. Nora winced, screaming out for help despite not expecting any. Suddenly, however, the wind blew from behind the bullies. Causing them to stand fully, turning their heads to view what caused this. When her view was clear, she spotted him through her one open eye. A blonde boy who looked a little older than her, with vibrant red wings sprouting from his back. His beautiful wings flapped harshly, pushing wind around and stirring.

“Leave her be. You all think you’re better than her? Why?” He demanded, feathers flying off his wings and towards the bullies. They flew to the collars of their shirts, pinning each of the bullies on the wall beside Nora as the blonde hero approached her with an extended hand. She stared up at him with wide eyes before averting her gaze from him. Concerned he’d be afraid of her quirk. “It’s okay. I’m here to help.” He reassured her, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. He picked Nora up, bridal style, and flew her up into the sky. This was the first time she’d ever felt what it was like to fly. He didn’t say anything more than asking her where she wanted to go and directions to her home. He landed outside of her home, sitting my feet carefully on the ground before flying off himself. Eventually, in school, Nora would find out he was in his third year while she was in my first year. 

After this day, Nora began to seek the boy out in school, learning his name was Keigo and that he was training to become a Hero one day. She’d end up seeking him out at school, even befriending him despite the fact he was a few grades above her and about to go to High School. She latched onto him, like a safety blanket, her best friend and the one hero she wanted to protect her. It broke her heart, even if she wouldn’t admit to it when he moved on and began to attend UA. The two grew apart, and she never thought she’d see him again – not in the way they used to. 

Graduating High School + Meeting / Joining the League Of Villains 

Nora had turned 18 a few months before she graduated from public high school. She took a shoddy job at a fast food location near her home, working to try and save up for her own money. Every penny she made though, her mother would take as ‘rent,’ for her being an adult and living with her. Struggling, and unsure of what to do, Nora just kept trying. And yet, her mother told her after her 20th birthday, it was time for her to go, insisting that her daughter find her own place. Honestly, without any heads up either, leaving the girl finding a temporary home in an alleyway. All of her belongings were thrown into suitcases, backpacks, and cardboard boxes she hid behind the dumpster outside of her parent’s apartment complex. Running out of options, and feeling as though the whole world set her up for failure, Nora finally did what her mother had feared. She used her quirk for nothing but her own benefit again. She strolled along a busy street, ‘accidentally’ bumping into an unknown man in a suit. She stopped, quickly bowing, and began to apologize profusely. He calmly apologized, and when the two raised to meet each other’s eyes, Nora smiled as she activated her quirk. Urging him to feel calm and content, she began. “You’re okay, it’s all good. You want to give me all the money in your wallet, though, don’t you?” She chuckled, pushing generosity through to the man’s brain waves. Carefully focusing her quirk on his emotions and hands. “Oh, right. You’re right, yes. I’m okay-” He paused as he smiled, pulling the wallet from his back pocket. “I’m so sorry for running into such a kind girl, I should be more careful. This is for you.” He stated calmly, a warm expression growing on his face as he extended a wad of cash from the said wallet and placed it in her palm. Winking, she thanked him before ordering him to continue his life and work like normal. Only to remember offering his money to charity and that he will feel proud of himself. Nora ensured to erase any memory of herself from him before saying goodbye. She continued this ploy for money over and over on passersby until I returned to the alley. 

Slumping down to sit on one of her boxes, Nora leaned her back against the dumpster as a sigh escaped her lips. Beginning to count the money, joy rising. She had successfully attained almost $2,000 in cash. Suddenly, a thud startled her out of her train of thought. She jumped up,  looking around frantically – She panicked, knowing she wasn’t the most talented with her quirk due to years of repressing it, but she was certain she shouldn’t have been followed. When she fully stood, turning to the source of the startling sound, she spotted a stranger. The man had a slumped, odd posture. Unable to see his face due to a.. hand? A hand on his face. He had hands all over his arms and head. His hair was silver blue and shaggy. 

This meeting would change her life, her first meeting with Shigaraki Tomura and learning that a villain named All For One had been watching her somehow and found her quirk impressive – offering, or insisting, she joins the League of Villains. However, it’s not quite that fact that drives her choice to agree, but rather the passion she sees in Shigaraki and their shared feelings of hate. Both of them felt as though the world owed them. 

CONT.