#and for some reason it was leaning more slavic

[rowanhoney]

names will always hold so much importance and I love that

[exoticbabe69]

Triangle of Love

1899 fanfic

Lucien x reader, Olek x reader

Darkness. Darkness surrounded you as you looked around the gigantic ship’s deck, not a soul in sight except for the bright stars shining from above and the moon glowing it’s mysterious night beam. It was an ominous night but for some reason you felt no fear. Standing at the ship’s edge listening to the waves crash against the bottom edges you found peace within.

“Bonjour mademoiselle” a deep French voice greeted you from behind. Looking over your shoulder you’re met with a devilishly handsome man. He had curly brown hair and a well groomed mustache, that was difficult not to notice, it suited him quite well nevertheless. He was wearing a white button up shirt, brown colored vest, matching pants and a coat; a very elegant look to him. You felt butterflies in your stomach as his gaze met yours. “Hello” you say back. The gentleman spoke very little English but was able to ask for your name. “I’m y/n, y/n y/l/n.” “Quel joli nom,” he responds. “My name est Lucien.” Luckily you had taken French during your undergrad program so you understood it well. You spoke many languages in fact Russian, French, Kazakh, and Spanish. You had also started learning Japanese.

After looking into each other’s eyes for a full five minutes, he asks you if you’d like to go for a walk on top of the ship. He smiles when you say yes. Walking side by side you two begin talking about your lives and why you boarded the ship. You wanted to get away from your past, it haunted you, so setting off to America seemed like the perfect plan. Lucien looks down and chuckles lightly “yeah I think we’re all trying to get away from something.”

As it’s still dark outside you could barely see the figure walking towards you. It was a young man, a handsome man with a very Slavic looking face. He was wearing what looked like working clothes and you could see his chiseled muscles under the moonlight. He accidentally bumps into you, flustered, he apologizes in broken English. He stops and stares at you, enchanted by your looks. He was so infatuated he didn’t notice Lucien clear his throat and insist that you two continue on your walk. Snapping out of his trance he asks you what your name is in Polish. Since you spoke fluent Russian you could understand him. “My name is “y/n” he places his hands on his chest “I’m Olek.” You smile politely and continue to walk with Lucien. Looking back as you walk away Olek is still standing there staring at you.

The same butterflies you felt for Lucien graced your stomach once more when meeting Olek. Lucien could sense this but tries to make it seem like jealousy wasn’t overpowering his soul by diverting the conversation away from his intense glare and tense body. “Do you have a husband or man in your life” he asks nonchalantly. “No I actually don’t.” “How about you?” Lucien wasn’t sure how to explain his current situation to you. How could he possibly convince the girl he’s now obsessed with that he is in a loveless marriage? “I am going through a divorce” he says. You nodded your head and placed your hand on his shoulder “I’m sorry, that must be tough.” Lucien places his hand on top of yours and smiles “now that I’ve met you, nothing is tough.” Taking your hand in his Lucien kisses it gently. “I should get back to my cabin now” you tell him, so he walks you back.

Standing in front of your door you notice how blue Lucien’s eyes are and how much they twinkle when he looks at you. You were so deep in thought, but Lucien stepped closer to you and boldly put his right hand on your waist. Slowly he leaned in and inched closer to you until his lips met yours. At first you were taken aback but then lust overcame you as a tingling fiery sensation spread through your body like wildfire. You placed both arms on his shoulders as he leaned into you even more pushing your back against the door. Before you could break away to breathe Lucien picked up both of your legs as they wrapped around his waist. Passionately kissing him and feeling his warm body against yours felt so good, so damn good. But you knew you didn’t feel right going any further, so you broke away from his lips and let out a nervous laugh. He understood your response and let you back down. “I’m so sorry” he apologizes. “Don’t be, I just need to be going to bed now,” waving goodbye you walk into your room and lock the door. Lucien stands there not quite comprehending how someone could have this effect on him so fast, he felt as if he was falling in love with you, but how could this be? He thought.

“Aaaahhh” you let out a hearty sigh and plop down on your bed. Thoughts of both Lucien and Olek filled your mind, you were smitten. Suddenly you hear the light sound of pitter patter coming from below, sitting up you look down to see a neon blueish green colored bug walking around the wooden floor. Typically you were afraid of bugs or at least weren’t too fond of them. But a weird feeling inside you didn’t mind this bug at all, on the contrary it intrigued you. You mindlessly stared at the bug until it crawled under the bed. Before deciding to finally go to sleep, you wanted to get some water from the dining hall. Even though it was very late you left your room and walked down the hallway. The ship started swaying from side to side aggressively “we must be in a storm” you thought. When you were about to turn the corner the ship swayed so hard you fell onto a stranger that was turning the same corner from the other hallway. As the stranger held you in their arms you looked up and see Olek smiling down at you.

“Olek! I’m sorry, I lost balance,” you tell him in Russian. “It’s quite alright,” he responds. Olek asks you why you’re out so late and you tell him you wanted to get water so he offers to accompany you. “Was that your husband I saw you with earlier?” he asks while you were walking to the dining hall. “No” you laugh, “I just met him, I’m single.” You could see Olek’s eyes light up at your response. After retrieving some water, you now notice that the ship seemed to calm down. “Well I should get back to my cabin.” “I know it’s late but would you like to go star gaze” Olek asks. “Yes that would be nice,” you smile wildly.

“If I may ask, what brings you on this trip?” Olek inquires. “I just wanted to get away, start fresh, see new places. How about you?” Olek looks down “I also wanted to get away, leave the past behind me.” It felt like dejavu. There was something familiar about Olek, something warm and innocent to his presence. As you two walk onto the top deck the first thing you notice is how bright the sky is now from the glistening stars, much brighter than earlier. Olek takes your hand in his and you both sit down on a structure that was fairly comfortable. “These stars are so beautiful” you say. “Yes, but even these beautiful stars don’t compare to the woman sitting beside me” he charmingly responds. Blushing, you gently place your head on his shoulder as the bliss of being alone under the night sky encapsulates the both of you.

[thepastisalreadywritten]

It’s been a year since Russia invaded Ukraine, and the battle continues.

Military and civilian deaths and injuries on both sides have been estimated in the hundreds of thousands, and millions more Ukrainians have been displaced.

What set the stage for today’s conflict? Here’s a look back at the long, intertwined history of the contentious neighbors.

The two countries’ shared heritage goes back more than a thousand years to a time when Kyiv, now Ukraine’s capital, was at the center of the first Slavic state, Kyivan Rus, the birthplace of both Ukraine and Russia.

In A.D. 988, Volodymyr the Great, the pagan prince of Novgorod and grand prince of Kyiv, accepted the Orthodox Christian faith and was baptized in the Crimean city of Chersonesus.

From that moment on, Russian leader Vladimir Putin recently declared, “Russians and Ukrainians are one people, a single whole.”

Yet, over the past ten centuries, Ukraine has repeatedly been carved up by competing powers.

Mongol warriors from the east conquered Kyivan Rus in the 13th century.

In the 16th century, Polish and Lithuanian armies invaded from the west.

In the 17th century, war between the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth and the Tsardom of Russia brought lands to the east of the Dnieper River under Russian imperial control.

The east became known as "Left Bank" Ukraine; lands to the west of the Dnieper, or "Right Bank," were ruled by Poland.

More than a century later, in 1793, right bank (western) Ukraine was annexed by the Russian Empire.

Over the years that followed, a policy known as Russification banned the use and study of the Ukrainian language, and people were pressured to convert to the Russian Orthodox faith.

Ukraine suffered some of its greatest traumas during the 20th century.

After the communist revolution of 1917, Ukraine was one of the many countries to fight a brutal civil war before being fully absorbed into the Soviet Union in 1922.

In the early 1930s, to force peasants to join collective farms, Soviet leader Joseph Stalin orchestrated a famine that resulted in the starvation and death of millions of Ukrainians.

Afterward, Stalin imported large numbers of Russians and other Soviet citizens—many with no ability to speak Ukrainian and with few ties to the region—to help repopulate the east.

These legacies of history created lasting fault lines. Because Eastern Ukraine came under Russian rule much earlier than western Ukraine, people in the east have stronger ties to Russia and have been more likely to support Russian-leaning leaders.

Western Ukraine, by contrast, spent centuries under the shifting control of European powers such as Poland and the Austro-Hungarian Empire — one reason Ukrainians in the west have tended to support more Western-leaning politicians.

The eastern population tends to be more Russian-speaking and Orthodox, while parts of the west are more Ukrainian-speaking and Catholic.

With the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991, Ukraine became an independent nation. But uniting the country proved a difficult task.

For one, “the sense of Ukrainian nationalism is not as deep in the east as it is in west,” says former ambassador to Ukraine Steven Pifer.

The transition to democracy and capitalism was painful and chaotic. Many Ukrainians, especially in the east, longed for the relative stability of earlier eras.

"The biggest divide after all these factors is between those who view the Russian imperial and Soviet rule more sympathetically versus those who see them as a tragedy," says Adrian Karatnycky, a Ukraine expert and former fellow at the Atlantic Council of the United States.

These fissures were laid bare during the 2004 Orange Revolution in which thousands of Ukrainians marched to support greater integration with Europe.

On ecological maps, you can even see the divide between the southern and eastern parts of Ukraine—known as the steppes—with their fertile farming soil and the northern and western regions, which are more forested, says Serhii Plokhii, a history professor at Harvard and director of its Ukrainian Research Institute.

He says a map depicting the demarcations between the steppe and the forest, a diagonal line between east and west, bears a "striking resemblance" to political maps of Ukrainian presidential elections in 2004 and 2010.

Crimea was occupied and annexed by Russia in 2014, followed shortly after by a separatist uprising in the eastern Ukrainian region of Donbas that resulted in the declaration of the Russian-backed People’s Republics of Luhansk and Donetsk.

Today, the two countries find themselves in conflict yet again, fault lines that reflect the region's tumultuous history.

Portions of this article were originally published during the 2014 Crimean crisis. It has been updated to reflect current events.

[soir-rouges-esprit]

xxvi.h: Son of Salem, No that’s NOT TRUE ... “YES … Yes it is true … and gods did I arrive at the perfect time! HeheHAAAAAA … Feeling Helpless are we??” Shut your FUCKING MOUTH!!!! “OH HO!!! THERE HE IS!!!! … The PASION!!!” He walks around me … menacingly. “THATS!! What I like to see … more of that and maybe you would have secured your spot wi … oh no … wait no, I guess that happened because you said a little too much now didn’t you?” I start to wheeze some more, breath heavy and quick. “You can’t fear ME!!! We are the same! We are one! … I’m not the by-product of those other two FUCKS! HA.” He leaned in close and grabbed my chin. “I’m the by-product of You!” I whip my head away and look at him with anger, although I know he only sees the fear in my eyes. “I wanna ask you a few questions” Go Fuck Yourself! “Gladly! … probably after my questions honestly.” he giggled. “Do you think there is even a lasting thought of you in their head? … think you’ve managed to carve something out in there? News flash! … that head was rotten.” He giggled again. “Think about how easy it must have been … to just … drop you … flick of a switch I imagine.” He giggled again all while walking back and forth in front of me. “maybe how much you put in, and how little you get out … some people would have, oh I don’t know … realized what was happening a bit sooner? You know … would have left and caught the next train ride out before shit hit the fan.” stop it … “We’ve always trusted our gut … It’s the only reason we’ve made it as far as we have … it’s all we got … “friend” … ” … “But you … you decided, for some reason, that the gut was untrustworthy … man has that backfired huh? Guess that’s what you get for going against yourself right? That’s what you say all the time Right!? If you’re not being you then what are you doing? and whom for? That masks are all just LIES … put on to shroud people's opinions of you … that it’s cowardice and self-destructive to mask … because the only person you’re fooling is who again?” shut the fuck … up “ooooh right … only fooling yourself.” I aggressively splash water in his direction, which … doesn't even make it to him. “Don’t act like this doesn't hurt me to … think I wanna see you of all people down here with me? Think I asked for this? DO YOU!” He jolts towards me, scrunching his face in anger, showing his teeth and eyes burning brighter than before. “No” he backs away … eyes dim slightly and he adjusts his collar. “No I don’t wish to see you hear of all places at all … I actually want to see you surrounded by white marble, gilded in gold … sitting on a throne with a Stupid Fucking! *sigh* … crown on your head.” He leans down to a Slavic-like crouch and faces me. If you’re here to end me on behalf of Wrath and his Deformities … just do so already, Just … end it already … even you can see my pain now … what my decisions and trust has gotten me … please … please don’t make my suffering greater than it already is … If I’ve lost … so be it, congratulations you’ve won I give up, that what you wanna hear? “Wrath?” … He makes a puzzled face. “Oh … you think … ha … Haha … HAHAHA … You think I work for WRATH!!! You think I’m a lackey here to do his DAMN BITTING?” … I stare confused and in pain. “I’m not here on behalf of him … or anyone else for that matter.” what? Then … why? “Like I said … don’t wanna see you here … never again.” huh? “So … “friend” … I’ve come to offer you a deal” No … no not gonna happen. “Seeing as you’ve really no choice … I fail to see how you won’t accept … unless of course … you really have been that damaged in your slumber like all the talk I hear, just as Wrath preaches … in that case maybe it is best you die.” … “I wanna offer you” He grins devilishly and is enshrouded in darkness. “ …  my help … ” He giggles again. “My allegiance MY power, the one you’ve been missing this entire time … the one you crave the most … I will join you … and help you remove that Parasitic tick Wrath from The City and win this shitty little civil war” … why? ... [To Be Continued]

[sebastianshaw]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍

———  BASICS! ♡

(PEN)NAME:  90smun, 90s, RodentFanatic, RF, Rodent, Ratty, Ratmun, Ms. Rat, Shawmun

PRONOUNS: She/Her

ZODIAC SIGN: Libra Sun, Capricorn Moon, Virgo Rising

TAKEN OR SINGLE: Single

———  THREE  FACTS! ♡

1 -  I’m a quarter Ukrainian via my maternal grandmother. She was first generation, and like many children of immigrants, she wanted to be as “American” as possible. To this end, she absolutely never allowed her children to learn Ukrainian, practice the culture, etc. Since her death several years ago, my mother and I both have been trying to get in touch with this side of our heritage. Each of us does it in our own way according to our areas of interest My mother is mainly concerned with things like our specific family history and family tree, while I’m more focused on the history of Ukraine, as well as general East Slavic folklore, charms, pantheons, etc. 

2 - I’m one of those “cis plus” people who did examine their gender identity to see if they were trans, but concluded I was not. It was when I was 16, and I had read up everything I could about trans people and being trans and gender identity and gender dysphoria and so on in order to do proper research for a transgender character. And I thought, I should probably consider this. So I sat down with myself in the bathtub and thought...and it was just a resounding “nah”. I don’t even think I can say I “questioned” my gender identity at all, because there was no question, the answer was right there loud and plain. I checked back in now and then after, but haven’t in years because I’m pretty sure I’m solidly cis ^_^

3 -  I really want a dog some day and I’ve worked out that a Great Dane is probably the best pick, and many dog people agree. I absolutely LOVE big breed dogs, especially gentle giants that still LOOK intimidating, but I also don’t have the energy to exercise and stimulate most large breeds. But, Great Danes are actually great apartment dogs!

———  EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED: Tumblr, RP boards, and Discord servers (I am NOT taking more run)

PLOTTING / WINGING IT / MEMES: I love memes and asks galore at random as ONE-TIME interactions, NOT as thread starters. For actual threads I strongly prefer pre-plotted 

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER: I prefer to write as female muses with female muses, but I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m not exclusive about that. But I have my leanings, clearly. 

LEAST FAVORITE FACECLAIM(S): I will NOT write with E.lizabeth O/lsen or M.ichael F.assbender or J.ohnny D.epp FCs. I tend to be pretty lenient about problematic FCs because it’s not like we’re paying the actor or whatever, and they’ve all done or said SOMETHING, but those are my hard limits. There are also some who there’s nothing WRONG with as people I just roll my eyes at them for whatever reason, but I think it would be mean to list them. 

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡    

FLUFF: Not...really. Shaw’s not well suited to it. Another character like Haven, I’ll happily do it for asks, or talk about it OOC with folks and we understand it’s happening offscreen, but I just don’t dig whole threads of it.

ANGST: I’m not really into angst either. I’m fine with dark things happening in threads, but angst for angst sake just pisses me off. 

SMUT: Nope. Nada. None. Never. I absolutely will do everything leading up to sex itself if it makes sense for the direction of the thread, and I’ll do innuendo and fade to black and so on, but writing the actual act is a total no-go. I don’t even want to write kissing tbh. 

tagged by: @southern-belle-outcasts

tagging:  go for it!

[ashiemochi]

pussidon - ACT I | i

✠ Pussidon ↳ sounds like trouble ↳↳ can we eat it?

➶ pairing: OC x Leon S(exy) Kennedy. ➶ genre: fluff, angst, gore, smut/suggestive themes ➶ word count: no

NOTE: ✠ = time skip ✠✠ = switching povs/characters

✠ -> next

February 25th, 2011.   Eastern Slavic Republic, Holigrad.

Civil wars were never fun – let’s get that out of the way. Not to mention, bioweapons were involved in this specific one – specifically, Lickers. You’d guess they’d stop getting elements from the demise of Raccoon City, but no. 

Raccoon City was just the start. 

Needing the best of the best in this objective, FOS operator – Ingrid Hunnigan – watched over the DSO agent – Leon Kennedy – through her screen map as he made his way through the roughed-up alleyway. Just outside of it were the military, soldiers and tanks passing on by. From what she can see, they were shooting the rebels just as the rebels were shooting back. 

You know, like it’s some civil war – which it was.

Problem was – the U.S government was pulling out to discuss some new policy in regards to the civil war – which meant even Leon was supposed to be on his flight back by now. 

Hunnigan rang his device, deeply hoping he’d cooperate but knowing his inclination to help others and his understandable loathing towards bioweapons, she knew he’d put up a fight. 

“Moving into position.”

Not even a hi or anything – gotcha.

“Copy.” Hunnigan responded as she zoomed in on his figure from above, “I’ve got a clear view of you from the sky.”

She could see him looking up as if right at her.

“Great.” Leon praised nonchalantly but sarcastically, “Maybe you can help me find a clear route to the CIA drop-off.”

Before Hunnigan could open her mouth, her eyes widened behind her specs when her screen brightened up from some explosion. The call hadn’t dropped off, meaning Leon was still more than okay at a safe distance. 

Hunnigan was in charge of being his support on his mission – as usual – and she had the responsibility to keep him safe for both himself and the government. 

Oh, and his girlfriend back home – that’s one of the main reasons why she needed him to return. 

Leon peeked at the aftermath of the rocket from the tank and then back at Hunnigan, “Looks like they’re doing some serious renovations down here.”

Here goes nothing.

“Listen to me carefully, Leon. Your mission has been aborted,” Hunnigan started, voice firm as she informed him, “The U.S is going to pull out of the country.”

“What? I just got here.” Leon’s brows furrowed in shock, frustration oozing through his tone, “After taking me off furlough and sending me to this god-forsaken place? What the hell?!”

Hunnigan sighed through her nose, closing her eyes for a moment before she continued, “Washington and the government there have decided to go their separate ways so everyone has to leave – not just the embassy staff. All American citizens have been ordered to evacuate the country.”

I think I worded it perfectly – there’s no way he’d refus–

“I don’t give a damn about the politics.” Leon snapped, crushing that small proud voice in her head. 

Why am I not surprised?

“We’ve got confirmation that BOWs are being used in this war. If we don’t stop them now, the same shit will happen everywhere else –” Then he narrowed down his eyes at her, challenging, “Do you really wanna see that?”

“This is a war and things are different.” Hunnigan countered, “No one can do anything without backup from the American government. Not even you.”

Leon's sharp eyes widened for a split moment before the corner of his lip irked up, a glint appearing in his blues, “Well then, I guess my only option is to lose my American citizenship for a while.”

Hunnigan shot forward, “Leon!”

Then the call was dropped, leaving a popup on her screen showing just how long the call had lasted; a minute and twenty-five seconds. Hunnigan stared in surprise at being hung up on then leaned back against her seat with a huff. 

“Unbelievable…” Hunnigan muttered, shaking her head as she glanced at the wall adorned with clocks of all the different timezones. 

It was to keep some sort of respect for all the other agents from numerous countries and not end up calling them in the middle of the night – yet that never seemed to stop the government. Given it was currently close to nighttime in Washington, most agents were out considering it was Friday.

Hunnigan removed her glasses to rub the sore spot on the upper part of her nose bridge, I’m missing out on my show for a man with a brick wall for a brain.

“He didn’t listen?” One of her coworkers came in with two cups of coffee, setting the foam cup on her desk.

“What gave it away?” Hunnigan mumbled, taking the offered hot drink into her hand as she slipped off her headset to set it on the table.

The woman laughed, patting the operator’s back, “That’s Kennedy for ya’. I feel bad for whoever’s going to end up with that stud.”

Hunnigan forced a chuckle, watching as the woman turned around the corner back to her desk. She looked back at her screen as a thought weaselled its way into her head and she opened the lid for the sweet vanilla aroma to take over her senses. A pleased sigh was released from her lips, glancing down at the ground cinnamon on top of the creamy foam.

Cinnamon Dolce Latte.

The idea made itself clear in her head and Hunnigan perked up. If she couldn’t get him back, then she knew someone who would. 

Setting the cup aside after closing the lid back on, Hunnigan put the headset on and scrolled through the contacts on her screen. Finding the soldier she needed, she pressed ‘call’ and heard it ring.

“I hope she isn’t doing something too important.”

✠✠

February 25th, 2011.   Kennedy’s Residence, Washington DC.

An Animal Crossing tune rang from a phone on the art table, instantly catching the artist’s attention. A small pout settled on her plum lips, hating that her art session was interrupted. She tried to ignore it but the call only continued. Sighing out exasperatedly, the hand on her hip slumped down in defeat. The brush clinked lightly when she set it into its cup and made her way to the art desk behind her. 

It was a video call. 

Anxiously, the girl fixed her appearance up through the window walls. She wasn’t wearing anything extravagant; her usual chaotically painted short-sleeved beige shirt and a pair of shorts. She had thin white fancy gloves on specifically made for painting to protect her skin from the powerful chemicals. Her hair was up messily, letting her bangs and sneaky strands fall down to frame her face. 

It’s just Hunnigan – relax.

Finally picking up the call, she smiled as she pushed her glasses up higher, “Hi, Innie – I thought you were out.”

“I should be but Leon’s being Leon.” Hunnigan exhaled tiredly, flashing her a smile, “What are you up to this weekend?”

“Oh, you know, the usual.” The Han girl shrugged, flipping the camera to show her the piece she was working on, “Enjoying the last few days of my week off – the BSAA’s ruthless.”

Hunnigan hummed, impressed with the use of colours, “That looks lovely.”

So Ah blinked at the trailing tone, furrowing her brows as she twisted her phone back to her and she gave her a suspicious look, “Why do I feel like this call isn’t just you checking up on me?”

Hunnigan pressed her lips into a thin line, “Okay, I hate to cut your vacation short but I need you to call Leon and convince him to abort the mission. It’s too dangerous.”

“He’s a big man, Hunnigan. I’m sure he can handle it.” So Ah gave her a knowing look, setting the phone perched up against the brush’s cup before taking out her previous brush and then she stilled, looking back at the woman on the phone. 

“... How dangerous are we talking about?”

✠✠

You know how you’re supposed to run away from a ravaging and destructive creature?

Leon was chasing the licker. 

It can’t be that dangerous, right?

It wasn’t like the agent was going to get knocked out and kidnapped.

… RIGHT?

✠✠

“So Ah, you don’t understand – we were asked to retreat. The US government is pulling out.” Hunnigan pressed on, knowing it wasn’t too hard to convince her.

“And you assumed Leon would listen?” So Ah asked, resuming her brush strokes on the canvas with a subtle in-love smile. 

Hunnigan tilted her head to the side in silent agreement, “Okay – I believe he told you about the BOWs' involvement, right?”

“Mhm.” So Ah hummed, pointing the end of the brush at her phone briefly before dipping the brush into the oil paint, “Which explains why he’s stubborn to leave the mission unfinished.”

Keyboard tapping sounds came from Hunnigan’s end followed by a chime coming from her laptop. So Ah glanced behind her then at Hunnigan with a puzzled look. 

“I just sent you a footage of the bioweapon that was sighted in the capital of the Eastern Slav Republic.”

Begrudgingly, the brush clinked when it was set down and she took her phone with her on the way to her art desk once again. Tapping the file, she clicked on the video she had received. It was taking a while and she frowned at the sight of destroyed buildings and people being crushed beneath them. 

Then a muscley creature skittered on by, raising tiny hairs down her spine. The horror straightened her up as she stared speechlessly as even more of those bioweapons ran past the screen, some leaping with their massive sharp claws. 

“What… The hell is that?” So Ah whispered in shock.

Hunnigan frowned deeply, “They’re called lickers – they’re a bioweapon made to hunt. They’re completely blind but have a heightened sense of hearing and –”

“Can you prepare a flight for me?” So Ah interrupted, closing her laptop and started closing all her paint bottles, setting them in their designated spots. She turned off the lights in her art room and started making her way down the hallway. 

“Right away. It should be good to go by the time you’re here.” Hunnigan looked so utterly relieved, writing in for one of their pilots, “I’m sorry about this.”

“Don’t worry about it.” So Ah gave her a small smile, “Leon’s just being Leon – right?”

Hunnigan actually laughed a little, “Yeah.”

✠

“Leon should be in the capital’s market street. The orders are strict to abort the mission completely, even for us FOS operators – so I might not be able to keep in contact as much.”

Holigrad was in ruins. The stores were crashed, windows and glasses shattered and scattered all over the streets similar to the giant boulders of debris. Chills ran down her spine, the cold air usually smelled fresh this late – but the scent of bullets and ashes only made her nostrils sting. 

“It looks so bad, Innie…” So Ah whispered to her device, looking down at Hunnigan worryingly. She was growing antsy. 

“I know. Try to avoid the military as much as you can. Stay safe, So Ah.”

The call ended, leaving the soldier alone with her anxious thoughts. Another shiver ran down her spine and she internally cussed, wishing she brought a jacket along with her. 

A long-sleeved black fitted shirt wasn’t doing much, despite being a turtleneck. It was tucked into her olive-coloured circle skirt with the tactical belt keeping everything tugged in. She also sported her usual thigh highs and combat boots. The weapons she was provided with by the DSO were a powerful handgun and a semi-auto sniper rifle as that was what she was most comfortable with. 

Her birthday was yesterday, having entered her early thirties – thirty-one to be specific. She fully expected it would be filled with hard work and positivity despite her new line of work. It was all to clear her family’s name. The need to meet someone who doesn’t know jack shit about the Hans was immense – at least she won’t be judged by her family status. 

Leon was able to spend the entire day and night with her, spoiling her with anything she had ever wanted. Even though she tried to convince him that she just wants some time with him, Leon still took her around the city. Guess that was why she was a thousand miles away from home – she was going to try and convince him again. 

His gift to her was quality time, brand new paint, and a handcrafted tactical combat dagger. The handle was black with the texture being easier to hold and not slip. Along the side of it was a line of a beautiful deep green marble engraved into the handle, not to mention Han So Ah etched into it.

The blade was professionally made and she truly wondered just how much it cost him to get it done. 

Oh, yeah, and mindblowing sex when they got home.

Said dagger stayed hidden in its cover under her skirt, tucked into the belt around her thigh. 

“EVERYONE, EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY. THE OPERATION BEGINS AT 2000 HOURS.”

With haste feet, So Ah made her way down the road with her pistol in hand. The sound of heavy footsteps followed by a low rumble of a military tank urged her to dip down the road leading to a somewhat of an underground parking lot. It seemed like a better idea to go through the city underground. 

“Too dark…” She whispered to herself, taking out her flashlight and keeping it up under her pistol as she observed the parking garage from her position. 

She wasn’t going to lie – it looked fucking terrifying. 

“You got this, Soo…”

In her mother tongue, the little pep talk seemed to calm her down a bit but hushed commotion echoed inside. Instantly, the image of those lickers appeared in her head, making her freeze on her spot again.

Nope, I’m gonna die tonight.

Yeah, she did try calling Leon, thinking he’d pick up when it’s her but his device was shut off. Hunnigan was currently no help because of her orders. So Ah whined a bit, hating the anxiety rushing through her veins. 

Her missions were team-based, meaning she was recruited with other trained soldiers. She never had a solo mission before. Not like Leon. 

“What are you doing here?”

Wait, was that –

“If they attack the capital, it’ll make my job a lot easier. That’s all.”

Hold your fucking horses, there’s no way that’s –

Without even thinking about it, So Ah ran towards the source of the familiar voices. She halted when she saw her loving – stubborn as shit – boyfriend of four years and the mercenary in red. They were aiming at one another but there was clearly no intention in actually pulling the trigger.

“Leon!” So Ah uttered, lowering her aim when they looked at her and Leon’s eyes widened when he saw her. 

“So Ah?” Leon asked, dropping his aim and he furrowed his brows at her, “What are you doing here?”

Her breathings were on the heavy side from the relief and she glanced at Ada, finding her coy smile widening. 

“Well, well, wherever Leon goes, a Han is always nearby, hm?” Ada commented, earning a side look from the agent.

It clicked in Leon’s head when he picked up on his girlfriend’s subtle lost but relieved look. He shook his head in disbelief, eyes lowering in expected disappointment. 

“She really contacted you to get me to fall back, huh?” Leon scoffed, raising a brow at his lover. 

So Ah pressed her lips in a thin line momentarily, “... Maybe.”

A faint laugh came from Ada, arm dropping in amusement as she gave Leon a knowing look, “That’s all the proof you need to put a ring on that finger.”

“Huh?” So Ah hummed, confused as hell as Leon only looked as if he was caught red-handed, “What does that mean?”

“Oh, you’re always the naive one, aren’t you?” Ada teased, flashing her a quick wink, “Suits you.”

Then she raised her Hookshot up high, pulling the trigger and the hook flew through the massive opening above. The hook clung onto one of the broken pipes and she released the trigger, allowing her body to be pulled up. 

“Quick word of warning, this town will be purged soon!”

That was a quick word of warning. 

Slowly, So Ah made her way towards Leon and stood next to him as she kept her eyes up to where the mercenary had just left. Not wanting to jump to conclusions and embarrass herself, she chose not to mention the ring.

“She’s one confusing woman.” So Ah commented instead, earning a huff from Leon. 

“Uhuh.”

She watched him as he rechecked his rifle, feeling like she did something wrong. 

Leon had grown so much in the past six years – the “job” sucking the life out of him with each mission yet he never seemed to stop. He still accepted any mission that included BOWs, having vowed to scrub the virus off the face of the Earth. 

She somehow knew there was no need to convince him otherwise. 

“So,” Leon broke the silence once he was done, turning to face her with an expected look, “Are you really going to be trying to take me back?”

“If I said yeah, would you?” So Ah returned the question.

“Not really.” Leon shook his head with a huff, a thin smile on his lips before it dropped as he held her arm gently. 

His voice dropped to a murmur, trying to convince her and his hand trailed down to hers, “Buttercup, you’ve seen the files – you know how bad this is.”

Like Hunnigan had mentioned, So Ah doesn’t really need much convincing when it came to Leon. She clearly should’ve thought this through and not sent his own lover to pick him up. Despite his hand being gloved completely, she could still feel the tickling surges of love emitting through them. 

Hunnigan was going to resent her for this. 

Defeatedly, she released a sigh, unknowingly receiving a glad glint from her man. 

“... At least let me come with you.”

[tactikink]

«────── « HEADCANON » ──────»

Been thinking about Bell lately thanks to my almost monthly CW replay, so fuck it. Here's some headcanons I've been holding onto for this closeted loser (affectionate).

Bell in the bedroom is almost a 180 to Bell outside of it. Where he's usually quiet and considered a "man of few words", he's very vocal during sex.

And his vocalizations vary between breathy moans, coarse whines, desperate grunts, etc etc. If things get intense, he will absolutely end up with a bit of a sore throat after the fact.

Also along this line, Bell is a sub-leaning switch. He doesn't have a major preference, but he does enjoy following someone else's lead for a variety of reasons.

He's also versatile, and has absolutely no preference for giving versus receiving.

Bell's a virgin, and a lot of that stems from his environment and his work. He hasn't really even experimented with toys, either, because part of him is paranoid about his colleagues (or the enemy) finding out and blackmailing him.

Ironically, despite this, he's never tried to force himself to sleep with a woman/women. He simply plays it off as being a "very private man".

That said, Bell has had his fair share of fantasies and begun a small collection of smuggled films. Legally filmed stuff, naturally, but stuff he would either be ashamed to buy from a physical store, or try to procure himself.

The types of adult films Bell watches are very much indie and range between "typical 80s gay porno" and "typical Slavic gay porno". If that makes any sense (and there is very much a clear distinction between the two; iykyk).

He also, with a bit of persuasion, landed on some classic longer-form adult content, such as Passing Strangers (1974) and Un Chant D’Amour (1950).

Bell's only dared to jack off at work once, and it was because a higher up had boxed him in to ask him a question without anybody else hearing. He tried to ignore the reaction he had to it, but Bell knew he would not be able to focus on decrypting intel after that. So he took a little extra "private time" in his office.

One of Bell's biggest fantasies is to be of service to multiple men. It's definitely a projection thing (given his canonical role both beneath Perseus and Adler), where it's like. It's a role he's already in during his day-to-day life, but he has more agency over it. More expectation to what is going to happen.

Bell's fairly average in terms of cock size, but he's also on the thicker side. Uncut, with a few prominent veins along the underside of his shaft.

He's also the type who cums a lot, and he's quite the shooter. If he's not really paying much attention while jacking off, and especially if he's laying back in bed, he will coat his own chest with nice thick ropes. It's part of why he usually saves his sessions for the shower, but sometimes he just. Needs relief.

Bell's the most sensitive when it comes to his chest. He's not sure why that is, but like. If his partner(s) want(s) to rile him up quick, go for the chest. Grope him. Pinch his nipples. Leave hickeys on the fatty parts of his pectorals. He will go insane for it all.

[ignyxdaughter]

𝐗 - 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐃

MASTELIST

READ ON WATTPAD

summary: Kirigan finds himself curious about the mysterious handmaiden again. Agatha remembers how she got her scar. Katherine's shadow does a little mischief with her and The Darkling.

word count: 2195

warnings: panic attack, memory of a wound and blood(?)

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"Petrov is here, moi soverenyi", Ivan's voice makes The Darkling look up from the soldiers' reports.

"He shall enter."

The Heartrender nods before leading his colleague inside the General's office. Kage now stands in front of Kirigan's desk and wait until Ivan leaves to talk. "She's nuts."

The Darkling has to suppress himself to not raise both eyebrows in surprise. "What?"

Kage clears his throat, million thoughts racing on his mind in an attempt to find the best way to explain the situation to his General. "I've been following her as you ordered, moi soverenyi, which made me conclude some things."

"Which are?"

"First of all, it's clear she doesn't enjoy our Sun Summoner's company. She hides well, moi soverenyi, but not enough for me, and although she spends all day and night on Ms. Starkov and Genya's heels, I still don't know her opinion about Genya."

"Do you know her reasons for such behavior?"

"Not yet, but I'm sure of something: she knows too much. I heard her talk with Genya one morning and she knows." He puts a hand on the back of his head, clearly nervous. "Ms. Anya De Montreal knows that Genya is a spy and is betraying Alina."

Kirigan stands up so fast that his leather chair is almost thrown on the floor. "How?"

"I don't know. She doesn't talk to any Grishas or guards. It must be a theory from her head—"

"No theory is that specific, Mr. Petrov."

"Indeed, moi soverenyi, but if you watch her attentively, you'll notice she talks to herself. There're sudden moments that she even smirk or laugh. That woman doesn't have friends besides a blonde handmaiden named Mischa Ivanova. She doesn't leave the palace nor do anything alike conspiracies. I truly believe she's lunatic."

"She doesn't seem lunatic."

"It's, for now, the only explanation for her to know such things."

"Then find another explanation. You shall now leave, Kage."

Later that day, The Darkling caught himself observing the servant when walking to his chambers. Ms. Anya was at a corner admiring that old tree —the hanging tree — again, not aware of the man doing the same to her.

He had to shake his head to go back to reality and enter his rooms. For Saints sake, he's more interested on her than on Alina! His attention gets more dragged on a mere otkazat'sya than on the Sun Summoner. Why is that happening?

Throwing his kefta on a chair, Kirigan runs a hand on his black hair and go to pick up his notebook, the same one he caught her reading one day. However, his focus is all dragged away by two books on his desk, books he didn't remember getting on the library nor ordering someone to. Moreover, they're written in latin instead of ravkan.

He can count on his hands how many times he's picked some of those latin books.

The General frowns at the titles, both of them with unusual subjects for him to read. "Introduction to Slavic Magic" and "The Grisha World".

The second book is all about his own species, probably with old Ravkan tales. However, what does the first one mean? He has never heard of magic before, though he can't say he isn't now intrigued to find out, especially when it seems to refer to the Slavic people, his nationality.

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

The sound of branches breaking echoed on the forest as Agatha ran as fast as she could, legs beginning to ache and breath almost panting. Her heart pounded in her chest as a drum, exhaling fear.

She was so scared.

After a long time, the girl finally let herself rest, leaning on a tree to catch her breath. It all happened so quickly: one minute she was on the village, enjoying another cold night with her family, and the other, her mother Keelin said for everyone to hide.

The entire family separated then. She only could hear what others did at the moment, completely guided by instinct. Aunt Hayley giving her hand to Hope and starting running, uncle Elijah hugging Katherine and telling her to hide them in a shadow, aunts Rebekah and Davina going inside a basement with Michelle and Levi on their feet... She had followed uncle Marcel with Nick to the woods; her mothers left behind with uncles Klaus and Kol to fight whatever was the threat.

But then she heard. The grotesque howl and heavy steps of a creature. Although it sounded like a wolf, she didn't have to see it to know it wasn't. This was a monster dangerous enough to scare the most powerful family of all time.

The proximity of its grunt was the reason why Marcel told the twins to run and don't look back. He was obeyed, though not as he expected, since the two kids were so busy fearing the creature that went different ways through the forest.

Panting, Agatha reminded herself to not scream. This would just attract the monster. So she sat on the floor, curled like a ball on a dark corner, praying for every Ancestor to protect her and all Mikaelsons.

It took almost half an hour for heavy steps approach. The only thing the girl had seen was a huge wolf before her scream echoed on the woods and everything went black.

Agatha woke up with a startle, sweat running down her forehead. Her breath is shaky, eyes wet of tears and skin shievering from the nightmare she's just had. She feels her chest wet of her own blood, running through her ripped skin like a red river. The monster had quickly dug its clays on her young chest, maddened by the thirst to kill.

The little girl was then left alone on the woods, fighting for her life on the freezing snow. Soon, she'd die from blood loss.

"This isn't my time." She thought. "I'm not ready. I wanna live, please!"

Agatha is so terrified and distracted by the memory that didn't notice the knock on the door nor a voice calling her name. For her, Gelya appearead out of nowhere, conjured with a snap of fingers to calm her down.

"Breathe in", the Healer slowly take a deep breath in an attempt to Agatha mirror her movements "and out."

The hybrid tries to follow the grisha, fighting for air on her lungs through the sobs.

"Now shake your hands with me. Yes, like this. You're doing great."

In and out.

In and out.

In and out.

It takes long minutes for Agatha's breathing and heartbeat come back to normal, and even more for her body stop shievering. Angelina wipes the dry tears from her cheeks and draws circles on her back. A simple gesture that says she's there for Agatha.

"I'm sorry", the hybrid sniffs after a moment of silence.

The Healer gives her a sad smile. "There's nothing to be sorry for."

"I just— It was a memory." She doesn't notice Gelya's widened eyes as she stands up and take off her shirt in front of the mirror. The white lines from the wolf's claws contrast with the brown skin. This is exactly the same scar that man at the tavern has on his throat; the same size and color and number of lines.

"You'll be alright, honey", Keelin said as Davina healed the girl's wounds. "You and Nick will be fine."

Another tear falls from Agatha's eyes, finally remembering some things from her past. Flashbacks of being in bed rest with her twin come in her mind, followed by all her family by their side.

Freya, Keelin, Nick and her. Klaus, Hayley and Hope. Elijah and Katherine. Rebekah, Marcel and Michelle. Kol, Davina and Levi.

She remembers each one of them. Maybe not every memory, but now she knows their names, faces and personalities.

"Always and forever."

"What?" Angelina's voice startles her, remembering that another person was in the room.

She looks at the Healer's hazel eyes. "Family."

"You remembered your family?" She nods. "Agatha, that's wonderful!"

"I need them, Gelya. Only them will know what the hell is happening to me, who I am." The hybrid gasps at reminding of the redhead that led her to the tavern, to the man that is probably Agatha's brother. "Do you know where that new Inferni is staying? Veronika."

Angelina smirks. "No, but I can arrange that."

────────── ★ ★ ★ ──────────

Late at night, Katherine enters her chambers after another day as a human servant. She didn't have time to talk to any of her cousins today, which means she'll have to wake up early in the morning to do that. However, the few hours of sleep won't affect the shadow singer's routine, since she's been pulling an all-nighter by reading books in an attempt to find a spell for Agatha.

Tonight won't be any different.

At least that's what she thought.

Katherine frowns at the tidy and empty bed, the opposite of what she'd expected. "Cheshire?"

What? The tall shadow appeared in front of the witch.

"Where are the books I asked you to get for me?"

Oh, I don't know.

The woman narrows her eyes at the now visible darkness, suspecting his behavior. Cheshire always knows what's happening, especially when Katherine is the one who wants him to find out. However, she doesn't have any evidence that the poor shadow is indeed lying to her. After all, he's never done that. So why starting now?

"Can you try to pick them for me?"

Yes.

The witch rolls her light green eyes when Cheshire leaves the room through the wall. That have never happened to her; her shadows have never failed on following a wish of hers. They're too clever to mistake a simple order of leaving some books on her bed.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the Little Palace, Cheshire quietly enters The Darkling's war room, his sharp mouth going wide in a smile at the view of Katherine's books on the General's desk. They're exactly where he'd left them on the morning, which means the man hasn't seen today's surprise yet. He'll let them there again and lie to the witch, saying he didn't find them on the library. She might not believe him at first, but she'll accept it the moment she sees that the place indeed doesn't have the wanted books.

However, Chesire still has to take something for her.

The shadow looks at The Darkling's desk for a minute, analyzing all the material on it, when his gaze stops at a small red book. He picks it up with his short arms, sharp teeth exposed as his smile grew.

Oh, how wonderful tonight will be!

When heavy steps approach the room, Cheshire hides in the darkness to observe the General's reaction to another pile of weird books in his chambers. That's been the shadow's entertainment in Ravka: to mess with Kirigan and Katherine until they talk properly to each other. That will happen soon though, if the two follow his plan.

He just knows they will get along well, and maybe — just maybe — fall in love.

He can't wait for that to happen!

Kirigan enters the war room as always: tired, yet still confident of his power. He pours himself a glass of vodka before looking at his messy desk — an organized mess, according to him. As expected by Cheshire, he notices the unusual pile of books and quickly makes his way to it.

"Again?" The Darkling picks up one to see what it's about, however, for his misfortune, it's written in Norse runes, a language he doesn't know at all. "It's the fourth day in a roll!" He huffs in anger, already thinking of all the things he'll do to the funny one who's architected that mischief. How dare someone mess with him?!

The dark figure smiles and leaves through the wall, well aware that the man will return the books to the library tomorrow morning. He's certain it'll be the first thing The Darkling will do — surely alone, to not show anyone someone has enough power and boldness to mess with him —, and the shock he'll have of finding another person at the same room and time as him will be unforgetable.

Actually, the shock of the two shadow people will be unforgetable.

Cheshire makes his way to Katherine, entering the chamber as if nothing have happened, and gently places the red book on her lap.

"What the—" The witch frowns. "This isn't mine."

Yes, it is for you. I picked it myself! He smiles with proud.

"Istorii Sankt'ya." She reads the golden title outloud. "You gave me a bloody bible, Cheshire?!"

You have to know the culture of this country! Nobody knows how long we're staying here.

She looks at the shadow with an unsatisfied face. "May I know where are the books I asked?"

I don't know. They weren't at the library.

"So you chose this instead of a grimoire?" He nods.

Katherine's frustrated grunt could be heard by anyone near the room. "I have more to do than learn about The Lives of Saints."

Really? You don't have any other book here and I'm not happy with the idea of going to the library again. So you can sleep or be content with this one.

There's a moment of silence between the shadow and the witch, the latter furious for not being attended correctly. However, Katherine breaks the tense silent by opening the red book and leaning on her bed's pillow. "Fine."

Cheshire's smile reached his eyes, sharp teeth completely on display. Yes, tomorrow will be an epic day.

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A/N: English is not my first language. I’m gonna mix the books and the tv show to make the story line clearer (I read soc, the grisha trilogy and its tales). I don’t own Shadow and Bone and TO/Legacies characters; they’re, respectively, Leigh Bardugo, L. J. Smith and Julie Plec. Also, this is how I think the Darkling is,and some of the events will be changed due to the story's course!

[mishkakagehishka]

about the "They're (shumika) so canonically eastern european" post, you know they're japanese,, right? i'm not trying to accuse you of anything but i've been in some fandom spaces with people heavily insisting japanese characters are british/otherwise white without caring about whitewashing and i just want to be sure you're,,, not doing that

Please never again equate eastern-euro-ness with being British again, you'll give me a heart attack /j

Mm. I don't know how to answer this in a proper way tho. Or rather in a way that won't come across badly(?) bc I do recognise EE/Slavs/myself at the end of the day as white (like, don't worry about it, I unironically clutch my pearls whenever I see people insisting we're not white) so I understand what you mean by whitewashing (and it's something I worried about myself when saying this - "oh, this anime boy is so ee to me", I've always worried it would come across as whitewashing which is obviously not my goal)

It's more like. Half spite and half cultural. Like, you don't have to be white to be eastern european, and you especially don't have to be white to be culturally eastern european, so as far as I'm concerned, characters I've "adopted" into my culture are equally as Japanese as they are eastern european (to me). And the spite is, and this is why I'm a bit miffed at you equating my headcanoning to headcanoning them as British/white in general (and AGAIN bc i don't want people to misunderstand, we are white, i do recognise the problem you're bringing up, i'm not in any way denying this or the fact that we have white privilege), is because uhhhh idk if you've noticed, but eastern europeans don't really get much representation in media, and when we do get it, it's absolutely awful. I made a bingo card once, even, but like, try to remember all the Slavic and eastern euro in general fictional characters you know, and now try to remember one that wasn't either an offensive stereotype for the sake of comedic relief or a villain (or, bonus for female characters, a gold-digger or otherwise ridiculously sexualised but still morally bad or leaning on negative stereotypes). It's not like I care about that stuff anymore, instead I just go "okay, this wasn't made with me (ee viewers) in mind, so i shouldn't bother getting angry", but like. Between that and the fact that eastern europeans are still considered "below" in a lot of western Europe (and... i mean, you know a big reason for why Brexit happened was that they didn't want any more EE (specif. Polish) immigrants? I'm sorry for hyperfocusing on you equating it to British hcs bsabbsjdjs but😭) I just grew kinda. Annoyed. And started going "alright, well, fuck it, your fave is a Slav now".

But, idk, the "they're Japanese" and "they're EE" coexists to me. I don't see why Japanese people wouldn't be able to participate in ee culture, and as far as I'm concerned, anyone can be culturally eastern european. I just like to think about my blorbos participating in my culture, it's not That Deep, and i'll apologise if it came across that badly to make you want to compare it to Br*itsh hcs. Sorry, had to squeeze in one last scandalised gasp at that. I just want to see names like mine, accents like my family and friends' and cultural practises like ours not be villainised or caricatured for once.

Like, the goal isn't "they're white now", my goal is "I'll make my own good rep from already beloved characters", it's not about changing their skin colour, but about projecting my culture onto them, which isn't dependant on skin colour.

I hope this all came across well enough, it's. 6:20, i've slept for a good 4h and english is still only my second language, but lmk if you need anything else clarified

[spurgie-cousin]

What are your notes on 1883? I have just started and for some reason i don't like it like Yellowstone, maybe i just need to watch it in the right mood

I haven't watched Yellowstone yet so I can't compare, but everyone keeps telling me to watch it and mentions that they think I'd like the prequels better, so I'm starting there.

I'm a huuuge sucker for a good western (which is prob why everyone thinks I'd like this one more lol) and 1883 was super entertaining in that area. My main beef with it was how little they focused on the stories of the German/Slavic immigrants and the Native Americans, both of those plotlines were super one-dimensional and stereotypical, which was a huge disservice to the story. I would've really liked more development and nuance in those characters, bc telling a story about American Western expansion without them isn't telling the whole story ya know? It could've really elevated the show.

I was expecting a lot worse though, it was pretty addictive. Good binge show for sure. If you like westerns I think 1883 is probably more the vibe, whereas my guess is Yellowstone is more a family drama and people who lean towards that will like that more.

[psykulor]

The Dangers of Compassion

You are walking along the path homeward when you see an old lady dressed in rags, her bone-thin legs and lean toothless face betraying days without food. She doesn't beg, but you offer your help anyway; a bowl of soup, a warm bed until the morning. It's the least you could do.

In the morning, your plants are withered, your cow is sick, and your erstwhile guest is long gone.

Or perhaps you're a newlywed, left alone for the first time in your wife's home. You start poking around in the basement - when you see, to your horror, an emaciated man wrapped in chains. You knew your wife was a warrior, but you didn't know she took prisoners, let alone such pitiable ones as this. While you're wrestling with this, the man croaks out, begging not for freedom or clemency but water, just water, he's so thirsty. So you pour him some. And when he drinks it, you pour some more. He drains twelve buckets.

And then he breaks his chains with a single word, and flies off to settle the score.

Slavic myth is not a monolith, but there are threads running through the stories of the peoples, and one I've noticed is the danger of compassion. The hero, sometimes a knight or prince but just as often a simple plowman, is confronted with a need and feels compelled to help. But unlike in, say, a Greek or Celtic myth, the supernatural consequences of this compulsion are negative. The need is false, or the needy person is untrustworthy. This isn't universal, nor is it often so clear-cut (the ur-example in the second scenario is from The Death of Koschei the Deathless, where the imprisoned man is the titular Koschei).

Is this thread of story a warning against interfering with the natural order? An admonition against unreasoned charity in a land where winter can last longer than the growing season? Probably nothing so clear-cut. But it reflects a bare fact that flies in the face of more fanciful myths: sometimes you are punished for doing good.

(remembers this is supposed to be a blog about tabletop gaming)

Players - at least players in the spaces I recruit from - tend to be do-gooders. Mercenary or altruistic, they are keyed into these opportunities to help the less fortunate. This is partially driven by metagaming, since modules and gamemasters alike tend to start their stories by presenting the players with a need for help. There's nothing wrong with this. But where an expectation exists, it can be subverted. My players have already taken the first step. Confronted by a scene of highway robbery, they took pity on an old alchemist woman with a suspiciously large mortar and pestle in her cart, and helped to drive the robbers off. Their prizes were three powerful potions: a potion of vitality, a potion of invisibility, and a potion of fire breath. But of course the woman is not who she appears to be, and neither are the potions. To survive in the lands of Slavic myth, my players must learn the dangers of compassion - and, in this case, of drinking a mysterious substance given to you by someone you don't know.

It's wise not to lean on this subversion too heavily. The trope of moral dessert for an act of compassion exists for good reason. But to push against that narrative flow, just once or twice, will help the players to reflect on the inconstancy of the world in which their characters live, instead of assuming it has the reassuring quest structures of a more limited game.

[somnambulants]

make me your future

summary: set during black widow. Yelena walks into a bar. A bar you happen to work in.  word count: 1.6K

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

Groaning internally, you roll your eyes at the line, not even bothering to look up at the person who’d said it.

Who even uses pickup lines anymore? Seriously?

“Not in the slightest.”

You continue to clean glasses behind the bar. Lining them up neatly one by one. Whoever it is, they can wait.

You’ve been working at this bar for about a year and a half since you’d moved to the city. It’s a decent job. Not what you’d pick if you had a choice, but you don’t hate it.

You have your favorite customers, too. Some of the regulars. The old man who shows you photos of his grandkids while nursing a beer. The woman with the fixed business-like expression who gives you an exorbitantly large tip every-time you bring her a glass of the already crazy expensive red wine she drinks.

Perks of working in a moderately upscale establishment known for it’s discretion for under the table, not strictly legal activities means you’re fortunate that the majority of your customers are nice and quiet and stay to themselves.

Well, usually anyway.

Clearly not everyone had gotten the memo.

“Weird,” the person doesn’t seem to sense the hostility in your voice, sliding onto the bar stool in front of you. You can detect a faint accent as they continue, more flirtatiously: “Me neither. Well...not until I saw you, at least.”

Raising an eyebrow at their boldness, you finally look up, ready to give them a piece of your mind and promptly lose the words that were forming on the tip of your tongue.

The woman in front of you is your type; so your type that your type doesn’t even describe how much of your type she is.

“Does that ever work on anyone?” You finally force out. You don’t know why you’re saying it; clearly it works. It’s working on you right now.

The woman shrugs. “I wouldn’t know,” she says, propping her elbows onto the table to rest her chin in her hands and looking at you intently. “Never tried it before. Is it working?”

Heat flushes up your neck under her gaze as you scramble for something to say. “Can I -- Can i get you anything?”

Her voice turns playful: “Your number?”

Twisting your lips to hide your smile at that, you also duck your head a little. “I meant anything to drink?”

“Oh,” she frowns a little, thinking. She doesn’t look offended by your clear diversion. “Water, I guess?”

“You’re not from around here, are you?” You can’t help yourself from asking as you slide a glass of water across the bar to her.

Her accent is puzzling to say the least. You’d say slavic of some kind for sure but she has hints of almost American inflections every now and then on some of her words.

It’s intriguing.

She gives you another smile, leaning in closer. “Visiting family,” she confirms. “My sister and her partner just moved here with their kids. She’s a science teacher.”

“That’s sweet of you to visit,” you say. “You must be close.”

She shrugs, taping her brightly painted nails along the rim of her glass. “We were as kids. Now not so much but we just reconnected recently.”

As she takes another sip of her water, you let your eyes linger on her face.

There’d been something about her words as she’d said them. Something that makes you think that her story isn’t as truthful as she’s making it out to be. Or maybe not at all.

Just a hunch of yours.

A lot of the patrons had stories like this they’d recount for you when you’d asked about anything even slightly personal - before you’d learned not to ask; stories that sounded like they could be true but more than likely weren’t.

Or weren’t the whole truth, anyway.

This bar was well known amongst those who needed to know that this was the place to go if you wanted to lay low. Or pretend to be someone else.

“And thankfully for me I came to visit,” she adds after downing the water, getting that playful glint in her eyes again as they snap back to your own. “Because here you are.”

You can’t help but laugh this time. She’s just so effervescently charming without even trying. “Yep. Here I am.”

You continue talking for what feels like only minutes but must be much longer; just about random stuff. The woman is surprisingly easy to talk to and adept at steering conversations to the point that you end up on the most obscure topics more than once.

When you look at the clock at some point, you’re almost blown away to see half your shift has gone by just talking to this woman whose name you don’t even know.

As if sensing where your thoughts have gone, she introduces herself. “I’m Yelena.”

“Y/N.”

The woman -- Yelena -- chuckles. Not unkindly. More like she thinks what you’ve said is amusing for some reason. “I know,” she says and you frown a little until you see her eyes on your name tag, which is pinned to the front of your shirt. 

 “Oh,” you say, a little embarrassed. “Right.”

As you turn your head, trying to hide the flush you’re assuming is creeping up your neck, you also notice the line of people in front of you that must have accumulated as you’d become distracted by her.

You groan. “Ill be right back.”

You serve faster than you’ve ever served. Practically throwing the drinks at all the patrons in your haste to get back to her in worry that she’ll get bored and leave eventually.

When you finally make your way through all of them and turn around, you find her seat still occupied and her in the same spot as before. Your heart does a backflip in relief.

“Sorry,” you say breathlessly as soon as you’re back in front of her, not really sure why you’re saying it, only sure that you are really sorry you’d had to leave her side. 

Yelena waves a hand, unbothered as she tilts her head towards you. “It’s fine. You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know?”

You freeze, not knowing how to react. “I  --”

This time, she outright laughs at your reaction, which leaves you no doubt looking even more flustered than before. Her eyes glowing with almost-childlike glee as she grins at you teasingly. “See? Cute.”

“Oh yes,” a voice drawls. You turn, only to find the voice belongs to a weirdly familiar looking red head, who is eyeing you up and down with an unreadable look on her face. “Just... adorable.”

“This is Natasha,” Yelena says, looking between you both. “My... sister. The...science teacher.”

Oh. 

So the sister is in fact real. And the sister is also looking at you with a knowing look in her eyes. 

She most definitely doesn’t look like a science teacher. You’re sure science teachers probably don’t walk around clad all in leather. Or look like they could snap you in half. At least none of the ones you’d ever had.

You’re also pretty sure that science teachers don’t also double up as members of the avengers, but you don’t say anything to that fact.

You do however recognise the black widow as soon as you see her. She’s pretty unmistakable, after all. 

“Oh,” you say. “Can I get you a drink?”

As you ask, you pretend you don’t see the tail ends of the way Natasha is mouthing the words: science teacher? to her with clear quizzicality. Or Yelena’s clearly unbothered shrug in response.

Natasha inclines her head at your words. “No. Thank you. I think we better get going, actually. Yelena?”

Yelena’s lips form into a pout. “Already?”

Heart sinking down to the soles of your feet, you pretend to fiddle around behind the bar as they seem to have a silent argument with their eyes in front of you.

It ends with Yelena rolling her eyes with a little huff. Reaching into her pocket to grab a couple of bills and stuff them into your tip jar, she gives you one last smile. Her smile is so infectious that you’re helpless to do anything but smile back, trapped under her spell. 

You don’t know how she managed to do it but in the tiny amount of time you’d spent around her, she’d had you almost convinced that love at first sight was a thing. 

And that you were it’s next victim. 

And because of that, you’d never forgive yourself for what happens next. You’re distracted for a brief moment, pulled away to serve another customer as they both continue to converse silently and then when you turn back around, they’re both gone.

No sign of Yelena. Or her sister. It’s like they’d vanished into thin air.

You scan the room multiple times but come up empty.

She’s gone.

--

(You lose hope pretty quickly that she’s ever going to come back. A week goes by. Then another. And another.

Nothing.

Months pass by with nothing and slowly, you start to forget you ever met her. Well, not quite; you never get out of the habit of looking at the door at work every now and then hopefully but you stop expecting anything after a while.  

Until one day it changes.

You’re in the middle of serving someone and just as you hand them their drink, you hear a voice you’d assumed you’d never hear again come from behind you.  

“So...do you believe in love at first sight yet?”

You turn around so fast you’re surprised you don’t get whiplash.

There she is.

It’s definitely her. She looks a little different, her hair a little longer. But it’s definitely her. That smile is hers.

You grin back at her.

“Go out and come back in and i’ll tell you.”)

[elysiadjarin]

Day 9: Edging/Orgasm Control

Well I know this one is a little late, but I posted and that’s what counts, right? Please accept a bit of a lengthier one as an apology… I did have fun exploring this concept! I really did try a different perspective this time. Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ content ONLY. PinV unprotected sex, nonhuman character, sub/dom themes, femdom, edging, orgasm control, some aspects of hypnosis? (more like supernatural voice control), exophilia

Tags: supernatural!creature x Male!Reader, Rusalka x Male!Reader, exophilia, terato

The Edge of the Unknown

“Oi Sci-fi, you ready?” The Captain of the research ship hollered, swinging up to his post.

You looked up from your equipment, holding up a thumbs-up. “Ready when you are!” you called back, attempting to keep your sea legs. You’d already gotten all of your things set up on deck, held down securely. The only thing you held at the moment was your marine camera.

The project had gone well so far, to your excitement and relief. You’d actually managed to document and catch on film a Rusalka that had long been rumored to have drifted from the cold waters of Russia to the warmer depths of the waters surrounding England.

The rumor had spread far and wide in the marine biologist community, but you’d waited until the hype had died down before going on your own expedition. And now you’d finally found some proof. The idea of being able to talk to a Rusalka, to maybe ask about the species and why she’d moved, was one you longed to accomplish.

The Captain made it out many kilometers from the shore, until land was far out of sight and nothing but water stretched as far as the eye could see. The readings from your equipment were staying steady, not really sensing anything notable. It would be a waiting game from here. You kept patiently monitoring the readings for any change.

You’d already made a first-contact of sorts, offering the Rusalka an ornamental hair comb as a gift of good-will. The Rusalka had made off with it after glancing into the cameras, so you’d taken it as a good sign so far. Still, you had to wonder how long before you might find yourself in considerable danger. The Rusalka’s singing was legendary for a reason, after all, as well as the magical power imbued in their words. Still… the curiosity could not be quenched.

“Ai lad, tha’ looks a bit odd, eh?” The Captain called, nodding towards the starboard side. You leaned over the side and noticed that the water in one patch had darkened, and bubbles were rising and popping to the surface as though it were boiling down below. And yet, when you glanced back, none of your equipment had made any indications of anything abnormal. You tilted your head, eyebrows furrowing.

Just then, you heard something that made your entire body freeze. The haunting melody came from everywhere and nowhere, and physically seemed to seize you so that you couldn’t move, staring straight ahead. You didn’t hear anything from the Captain either, and guessed that he might be frozen as well. But your heart leaped.

Surely… surely this was—

Sleep. The whisper curled around you. Darkness seemed to catch you as you spiraled into it.

A moment later, you found yourself staring up at a face. A woman’s face, pale with angular features hauntingly beautiful. Her long hair fell around your face, and a sharp smile broke across her face. She moved away, and your body suddenly felt free to move. You sat up, blinking, and saw the Rusalka, perched on the railing of the ship. The comb sat nestled in her long tresses. She tilted her head at you, her smile expectant.

For a moment, you almost hesitated to break the silence. You wanted to say so much, and yet… in this moment, you were tongue-tied. Finally, you sucked in a breath.

“H-hello,” you rasped.

The Rusalka let out a tiny, musical giggle. Her fingers wriggled at you. “Hello,” she greeted, her voice almost hypnotic, tinged with the Slavic accent. Long eyelashes swept over her dark eyes.

Your breath hitched. “I… I’m glad you— you like the comb.”

Her head tilted the opposite direction. “You were looking for me,” she said instead, though nothing but curiosity saturated her tone.

You nodded, swallowing. “Yes. I mean— I wanted to know,” you blurted. “Wanted to ask… ask about you and— I’m a marine biologist,” you stammered. “I just… I just want to understand more about you. About Rusalka.”

Her smile widened. “Cute,” she giggled, fingers coming up to her lips. “Maybe I’ll answer for that face.” She leaned forwards a little. “Come closer.”

Your feet moved on their own, her words of power seizing you. Your heart thumped against your ribs as you got closer, almost within reach of her arms. “Thank you,” you said breathlessly as you finally stopped. Your face flushed at her words, and you desperately tried to ignore the fact that her thin shift-like dress plastered against her skin, hiding next to nothing.

“You wish to know things?” she murmured, eyes still fixed on your face with a startling intensity.

You nodded eagerly, hair falling a little over your eyes in your vehemence. “Yes! I mean… only if you don’t mind,” you amended, eager to stay on her good side.

“Ask,” she said simply.

“Why did you decide to come here?” you immediately blurted. It was the most pressing question you’d had. What had driven her from her native waters to come to English waters?

Her smile faded a little, and a sort of sadness washed through her eyes for a moment. “Ah.” She sighed, eyes wandering over your shoulder, past you. “Rusalka change,” she said, her voice wistful. “I am older, very few of us old ones left now,” she reflected. “New Rusalka— they care about revenge, not land.” Her eyes focused on you again. “I move. Find a better place for myself.”

You nodded. “I guess I can understand that,” you admitted, feeling bad for her. “It must have been difficult. To move away from your home.”

The smile returned to her face. “Silly human,” she giggled. “Home is the water, not land! Only different water, now.”

You flushed a little. “Oh… that would make sense,” you admitted with a rueful smile.

“Now you.” She crossed her ankles. “You are from?”

You chatted back and forth for a while, the exchange of information equal but civil. At some point, you managed to grab a notebook and pen to jot down notes, earning another giggle from the Rusalka. You’d given her your name, and she’d repeated it back to you, stumbling a little with her accent.

Finally, though, she glanced up at the sky. “Human need to go. Storm soon,” she remarked.

“W-wait— can I come back?” you asked uncertainly. “I… I want to know more about you.”

She looked at you, and her ever-present smile softened at the edges. Reaching forward, her fingers brushed gently over your cheek, so soft you could barely feel it. “I follow you to land so you safe. Come to water tomorrow. You hear my song.” With the parting promise, she leapt off the side of the ship.

The Captain woke up not a moment later, blinking owlishly as he stirred. “Oh, I fell asleep did I?” Standing, he yawned. “Get anything, lad?”

You finished jotting down some notes. “Hmm. Oh, I think we should head back Captain, the weather seems rather threateningly.”

He glanced up and cursed. “Right. Let’s go.”

The rest of the day seemed to pass by almost in a blur. You kept replaying the conversation in your mind, even as you fell into bed, exhausted. Reliving every moment. The way she’d called you ‘cute,’ her expressions lively as she spoke. The promise she’d made, her voice soft. Her fingers, trailing fire across your cheek.

You fell asleep, mind still whirring.

~

It was probably stupid of you, but you’d only brought your phone, notebook, and pencil with you to the beach, early the next morning. You’d shivered in the breeze, then sat down on the shore with your thermos of hot coffee and stared over the water.

You watched the sun rise, enjoying the sound of the waves lapping against shore and the way the colors of dawn stained the horizon. You’d gotten so engrossed in it that you almost didn’t hear it at first. The soft, haunting melody that floated across the sand.

Scrambling to your feet, you grabbed your stuff and started to follow the sound of the song. It beckoned, drawing you ever closer, until you finally made it to the far end of the beach. A rocky sort of cliff wall stretched upward, but you noticed a small hole in the wall that seemed to lead somewhere. Not even glancing back once, you scrambled through the hole and popped out on the other side to find a tiny little beach area that seemed untouched by other humans.

The Rusalka sat on the sand, her eyes closed as she sang. The song came to an end, and she turned to see you approach. When you sat close by on the sand, she reached up and pulled the comb out of her hair, beginning to brush out her long locks. The motions captured you in their domestic simplicity.

“Hi,” you breathed.

“You wake early,” she said with an amused smile.

You could feel the color stain your cheeks. “I like watching the sunrise,” you said, not wanting to admit that you’d been eager to see her. Still, the knowing tinge to her smile didn’t escape you.

“You want to ask more questions?” She nodded to your notebook.

You lit up. “Yeah—“

It was lunchtime when you finally tore yourself away to eat, with the promise to return the next morning.

And that was how you spent the next week, meeting with her every morning. At some point, you forgot your notebook and pencil. It never went with you again, sitting on your desk, forgotten. And yet she kept coming, and you kept going.

And you kept pushing away the question of when exactly you’d fallen in love with the ancient Rusalka.

~

After a week, you noticed that she had seemed increasingly distracted by something.

Finally, she turned to you in the lull of conversation. “I show you something. You come with me?” She held out her hand.

You took it, not even hesitating or questioning yourself. Still, you noticed the brilliant smile that crossed her face. She stood, the comb glittering in her hair as always, and started to pull you towards the other side of the tiny stretch of beach. You followed, and both of you squeezed through a hole in the rock. This time, it was your turn to be surprised as your eyes adjusted to the dark of the cave you’d entered. A staircase wound up the inside of the rock.

She glanced back at you and tugged you forward, leading you up the staircase.

“Wh-where are we going?” you asked, trying to find your footing in the dark.

She didn’t answer, and you kept ascending until you finally reached the top of the stairs. Your eyes finally fully adjusted, and your eyes widened as you looked around. She’d pulled you through a veil of strung beads that had been hung in a doorway of sorts, into a cavern that seemed to be a room.

In one corner stood a whole bed, to your shock. The whole room seemed to have been made by a human, though the decorations in the room looked newer. A desk stood in the opposite corner, and there was even a sturdy-looking wooden chair. A few shelves and a closet had been carved out of the far end of the wall. The only light was from a sort of skylight that had been carved into the ceiling of the room.

“I found this, long ago. Made by other humans,” she explained, letting go of your hand and turning to you. “I thought you like?” She tilted your head. “You move here?”

You glanced around, genuinely surprised. “Wow, this is… amazing,” you marveled, wondering if it had been carved out painstakingly by hand. Clearly it had been long deserted; the chair alone looked as though it had come from the 1800s. Then you registered her question. “Oh— well, I don’t think I could live in it as it is now,” you laughed. “But I do think I’d like to fix it up and make it a second house of sorts.”

Her face lit up. “You like!” She clapped her hands. “Then you accept? Good house?”

You grinned back. “Yeah, yeah! It’s a good place, just needs a bit of fixing.”

The Rusalka seemed to be more delighted than you’d ever seen her, doing a little happy dance. Then she tilted her head at you. “I am good mate! Find place that make you happy,” she all but cooed, the satisfaction slicking through her voice.

You froze. I am a good mate. The words kept replaying like a broken record through your mind.

“W-wait. What?”

She paused, tilting her head at you. “I find good place for you,” she said, matter-of-fact. “You accept. It means I am good mate, yes?”

Your mouth dried. “W-wait, h-hold on. Are you— are you saying that I’m your… your mate?”

For a moment she observed you. Then she slowly walked up to you. “Ahh, I see. You do not know.” Still, she smiled almost fondly at you as she took your hand. “You give me pretty gift, yes? Means to Rusalka that you interested in mate. I accept. But Rusalka have to prove that I am good mate, can protect you, give you good house. If you like, then becoming Mates, yes?” she explained.

Your head spun. Then as it soaked in, you gasped. “So all this time, you— the comb…” You groaned, burying your burning face in your hands.

But she giggled, pulling your hands away from your face. She cupped your face in her hands instead, smiling at you. “Think you are cute,” she cooed. “Want you as mate. You want me?”

You didn’t really have to think twice about it. “Yes,” you whispered. You wanted it. You wanted… her.

She smiled. Then leaning up, she pulled your face closer to her. The first touch of her lips was cold. Then the salt of seawater gave way to the warmth of her breath, like a wood fire in the Russian winter; searing, life-giving, breathtaking. She tilted her head and deepened the kiss, and you drowned.

By the time you actually found your wits, you noticed her face somehow hovering above you like the first time you’d met. You lay across the bed, while she climbed on top of you, hair tumbling around your face in dark waves. That smile crossed her lips, sharp and soft all at the same time, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“Mate call mate by name, now,” she said sweetly, fingers brushing across your cheek. “Darya.”

You repeated it, breathless. “Darya.”

Her smile widened, and the fire crept into her eyes. She tilted her head, then leaned forward. Her fingers swept under your shirt, feeling across your skin as you gasped into her mouth, arching into her cool fingers. They felt so good, soft and cool against your heated skin. She hummed into the kiss, then tugged at your shirt in a wordless request.

You shrugged it over your head, somehow self-conscious around the beautiful Rusalka. Despite the great danger she posed, despite everything… you trusted her. You loved her. You wanted her to be happy, though you’d never thought that you’d be part of what she wanted. What would give her that happiness.

Darya giggled again, brushing hair behind her ear. “Cute,” she cooed, clearly pleased as she ran her hands down your chest.

You felt your face burn with the embarrassment. But before you could think too much, she had shifted forwards and pressed up close against your body, rendering you speechless. You’d just tried to open your mouth when her name died on your lips in a gasp. Her mouth pressed against your neck, insistent, hungry— searching as her hands wandered further down.

She hummed, her lilting voice pleased. Her hands kept exploring your body, coaxing soft gasps and moans from your lips as your head rolled back and your fingers came up to clench at her hips in desperation for some sort of grounding. Anything to keep you from completely floating away.

“Okay?” Darya checked, her voice surprisingly tender as she pulled back to look at you.

You nodded. “M-more than okay,” you rasped.

She smiled again, and her fingers tugged playfully at the hem of your pants. You flushed, but you lifted your hips for her to slide them off. Reaching up, you pressed the back of your hand against your mouth in self-consciousness, knowing that you’d gotten hard from her attentions. The way her dress absolutely clung to her curves and the way she pressed against you hadn’t gone unnoticed.

But she only hummed, as though pleased with what she saw. Tugging at your hand, she pressed another fond kiss to your lips. Then her hand reached down between you. The moment her hand slid down your cock, a gasp wrenched from your throat. Your head spun, sparks flying through your body as you swallowed thickly and gasped.

“So cute,” Darya murmured against your lips, indulgently. “You like this?”

You whimpered but nodded, unable to deny how good her hand felt, stroking you, her fingers playing over your tip. Your body shuddered underneath her, unraveling under her touch and her lips trailing across your skin. She kept ringing circles around your tip, her other hand stroking you until you ached and throbbed in her grip. The entire time, she gazed at you with a soft sort of adoration, the heat of her smile contrasting with the softness of her touch.

You tumbled quickly to the brink, your entire body shuddering. Her name fell from your lips in a desperate gasp as you hunched forward a little, fingers convulsing around her waist. But just as you were nearly there, your body trembling in anticipation, she let go.

“Wait,” she murmured, the command almost physically washing over you. You whimpered, almost strangled as your body hovered at the edge. Just barely there. Not enough—

“So close,” you whimpered, your voice a hoarse plea. “Please, Darya—“

She giggled, her lips pecking a kiss to yours. “Make mate feel good, promise,” she said coyly, then slid down. Your body had just eased back from the edge when she sank her mouth over you. You choked, eyes squeezing shut as you gasped.

The heat and softness of her mouth engulfing you felt like nothing you’d ever experienced. It consumed you, her soft lips sinking over your cock, everything in you seeming to throb and ache and yearn for more. For release. You shuddered, drool pooling in your mouth as your eyes peeled open.

Her tongue slid against the vein on your cock, making you throb in her mouth. She swallowed around you, the wet sounds lewd as it echoed through the stone chamber. And yet when her eyes looked up at you, tinged with that smoldering mischief, you could only lie there and let out a broken, helpless moan. The build up was slower. Still somehow fast and yet not fast enough, making you shake your head as you drew agonizingly closer to that promised brink.

And yet somehow she knew. Pulling her mouth off, she teasingly poked your aching cock and giggled. “Wait.”She practically sang.

A sob spilled from your lips, desperate and pleading. “Darya,” you begged, voice trembling as your body flushed with heat almost painfully. You wanted it, so badly. Wanted release. Wanted the end. And yet… you almost didn’t. You could almost want to stay here, like this, under her spell for as long as she wanted. Torn, you whined and gazed up at her through blurred eyes.

She cooed, gently stroking your cheek as she hovered over you. “Ohh, it’s okay. Take good care of Mate, hmm?” She purred your name, promising and sweet.

The desperation and the despair at being denied had fuzzed your mind to the point that you almost lost track of everything else. But you instantly snapped to the moment you felt her press down against your cock. Her dress slid up her hips and waist, her core pressed against you as she tilted her head down at you. Before you had time to say a word, she’d sank down on top of you.

For a moment, your breath froze. You stared unseeingly up at the ceiling, nothing but the pure pleasure of her filling your senses. The moment she moved, another sob tore from your lips. The pure pleasure rushing through your body almost hurt after the denial. The way she kept pushing against you, kept teasing your body with hers until you writhed under her. You didn’t know if you wanted her to stop or keep going. Didn’t know if you wanted relief or more.

Somehow, you were at the edge before you knew it. You barely had time to stammer her name, but she knew. She cupped your face in her hands and murmured your name, her body clenching around you. It proved to be too much.

You arched up into her, her name spilling from your lips in a litany as you came. Stars burst behind your eyelids, tears streaming from your eyes as she finally granted release. And yet nothing had ever felt so good in your life; the edge of pain just barely mixed with the pleasure, needling through your entire body.

By the time you came down, gasping, you weren’t even sure how long it had been. Only that you’d been stuck in the throes of pleasure, wholly lost in her. She sighed, and you realized as she fluttered around you that she’d cum as well. It relieved you in a sense, to know that you hadn’t been the only one to find pleasure.

She sighed your name, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips. “So good,” she murmured. “So cute. Love Mate.”

You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her into your chest as you leaned your head into the crook of her neck. “I love you, Darya,” you whispered. “So much. Thank you for choosing me as your Mate.”

She didn’t answer with words, but she didn’t need to. The kiss said more than enough; and you knew that you’d found home.

[hithelleth]

Shadow and Bone S1

Okay, FFS, I've been trying to meta for a week but my brain has been mush from the heat and everything.

I was spoiled (did it myself, intentionally) both about the show and the books and the author's opinions and I’m not sure whether I would have liked it better if I hadn’t spoiled myself or even less. I’m leaning towards the latter.

So I've been trying to clarify my mixed feelings and I think I’ve come to the conclusion that what I liked is fandom/fanon + some elements/parts of the show. But on the whole, it was so-so.

(BTW, the books were on my TBR, but I decided I’m not going to read them. I am not here for LB's BS.)

I need to give a shout-out to thank @electricbluebutterflies, who made me ship the ship before I even started watching the show for the second time (the first was bellarke. Oh, boy, do I (or should I say we) have a TypeTM.) There were other people who ‘helped’, but you were the first I saw posting about it on my dash. ;)

(Hmm, I should probably refrain from comparing bellarke and darklina, because that will end nowhere near well. (Or maybe I will in another post if I feel particularly masochistic.))

Anyway, I was bothered by stupid last names’ endings even before watching the show, because LB apparently didn’t take two minutes to google it, or maybe she decided to turn them around for a ‘twist’. Eh.

LB’s world-building also felt cheap and lazy; she basically just copied things from RL and camouflaged them with different names (and badly at that: I mean Ketterdam is obviously Amstedam, Fjerda Finland, and by her own confession Ravka Russia ) while leaving RL attitudes/issues (anti Asian racism being in particularly blatant) intact (with added ‘unique’ feature of prejudice against Grisha, who are basically just a spin on witches, so not so unique at all.)

Also, Slavic ‘representation’ left me lukewarm.

I suppose since nowadays it is distasteful (for white American authors in particularly) to use POC such as Black, Indigenous, and Latino people and their cultures for exoticism, us Slavs are fair game. Oh, well. I guess I should be happy we are no longer portrayed only as gangsters and prostitutes.

But, like I said, the visuals were pretty.

I love Darklina, but I think there’s been better meta than I could write already written about both Darklina and the Darkling, so I’m not even gonna try (though I did unload quite a bit in back and forth messaging with @vesperass-anuna) and rather reblog some.

I also really liked Helnik, except the end. It’s perfectly reasonable that Mathias came to the conclusion that Nina played him for revenge, but I did not like his back to ‘you evil witch’ reaction. I guess it’s also reasonable, but it is not the only possible reaction for him, it is what LB chose and that (as other things) says something about her writing.

Mathias is supposedly Fjerda’s best tracker, so he shouldn’t be dumb as a doornail (though it is canon that he’s very prejudiced and apparently he doesn’t grow out of it (so far.))

The other option for the ending would be that he figures she got her vengeance over him and be like, ‘fair enough, I deserved it.’ (Because he does.) It’s been done in other shows and came across much better than the self-righteous first option. And let’s not get into that if it was two men, LB would probably go for the first option, because when a man gives his enemy a taste of his own medicine, it’s lauded, but women are for some reason supposed to be above it, to be ‘better’. Fuck that.

I really liked the crows and would love more of them (but, like I said, I’ve been spoiled about the books, apparently the crows duology also ends badly so I’ll stay away from it.) And I also low-key ship Kaz and Inej (there wasn’t enough of them to do it high-key). Well, there wasn’t enough of the crows, period. They are really intriguing characters and I hope S2 explores them more.

That’s it, I think?

I’m going to stick with fandom/fanon.

[fekst-fucker]

My brain is just *creepy pastas and Percy Jackson* anyway. Habit, EJ, BEN, Masky, Hoddie, and maybe slender with an Demi-god S/O who’s really good with weapons and fighting- and he sees them just casually turning a monster into dust as if it’s a normal Monday-

I think we should all give lots of thought to who our godly parent would be. Like Hogwarts houses are nice and all but godparent.… the nuance

Habit

- This is heaven for him. He needs demons killed, you kill demons effortlessly, one less boring chore on his hands

- He never stops to consider that this also means that you can kill him. The thought has literally never crossed his mind that you could obliterate him. He’s too full of himself

- Until you make an off-handed “I could end you” comment and he kinda chuckles and is like “you wouldn’t do that”

- Cue you shrugging and checking your fingernails while leaning on a table with your legs crossed. Habit begins to sweat

- “.......right? You wouldn’t kill me, y/n.”

- Oh yes you would

Jack

- Poor EJ is just immediately worried as soon as he begins to think about you turning a monster to ash. He’s a monster. What if you turn him to ash?

- Ignoring the fact that you’re, like, dating

- You have to reassure him pretty often that you’re not going to kill him. He’s not even a Greek monster! He’s a Slavic monster!

- That didn’t make him feel any better

- However, you being good at fighting is a huge plus for him. Even if you’re nowhere near his strength, speed, and stamina, it’s good to have a skilled sparing partner

Ben

- There’s a surprising amount of Greco-Roman culture and mythos in video games, so Ben is… already really versed?? In everything??

- When you’re explaining your godly parent he’s already like “oh yeah sibling to this person and born of this monster and parent to these people. So you fight with a doru? Do you also carry a xiphos if it breaks? I usually prefer kopis even though you’re technically supposed to use them on horseback”

- This man has never even picked up a spear in his life or death. Shut tf up babe

- He’s also not phased by you tearing the fuck out of some monsters. He’s like “great form hottie!! Keep it up!”

Masky

- He’s so stoked to have a competent, strong, talented s/o, especially when it comes to fighting or sparring

- He loves to spar with you, even if your techniques are a little more rough or brusque. Training with younger people or teenagers especially, who are so much more energetic than Tim, really made you a vigorous fighter. He can barely keep up with you, but he does feel great after workouts

- He’s pretty impressed with your destruction of demons, but ofc he can’t be too eager about it. He just takes another long drag off his cigarette and say “hey could you do that to some of my coworkers”

- Cue the demon creeps beginning to sweat

Hoodie

- Hoodie isn’t a demon but he is one of the creeps that starts to sweat if threatened by you or Tim

- He knows you could kick his ass to next Tuesday. I mean that’s kinda fucking hot but he’s still gonna do what you ask and be very respectful lest you decide to beat him up

- You wouldn’t punch him for no reason. Both of you are generally really relaxed around each other and he never feels the need to be scared of you, period. He knows when to not piss you off, but it’s never crossed the point where he was scared of being around you

- He has a really bad habit of stealing cool weapons for you. You don’t even know how to use half of them but damned if you’re not gonna learn

Slender

- He’s also very taken aback that you would slay a monster right in front of him and then turn around and give him a casual “hey what’s up”, but he’s wiser than any of the other creeps in that he’s confident you wouldn’t hurt him

- He is super super nervous to meet any of your friends. Obviously, seeing as he’s a 12 foot tall faceless monster

- As impressed as he is with your weaponry, he strongly disapproves of you collecting and practicing weapon work around the mansion

- He’s uncomfortable deeming you his proxy for a few reasons, among you being his s/o and the fact that you’re, y’know, a DEMIgod, but he also shouldn’t really be dating you as a higher level demon. He hesitantly introduces you to people as “my dearest y/n” or “my dear y/n”. It can mean “I am dating this person!” or “we’re very close :)” so he’s in the clear

[trans-p03g]

When you say college guy do you mean straight up P03 is just some guy, some little punny human and Leshy is some forest entity or are they both human rivals?

YUP TO THE FIRST ONE

Leshy is an old Slavic deity, his forest once vast and wild now reduced to a small shred of what it once was, but he'd be damned if he didn't give it his all to protect what's left of his kingdom. Any sort of development that took place there would get immediately halted as trees fell on the machines, plants and mud would destroy them and workers went missing. Eventually, people refused to work there out of fear. The forest was eventually named a national park and Leshy was content with it. He had a symbiotic relationship with the park rangers, after all, they helped take care of his home. But Leshy still stayed strict when it came to his forest; he wouldn't murder a guy for throwing a paper on the ground obviously, he's reasonable, but people who litter would find themselves getting constantly scratched by plants, bit by insects and even walking into poisonous plants; if people strayed too far into his domain they'd go missing and turn up on the opposite end of the forest with no idea of how they got there.

Eventually, years later, a college campus is built nearby on the edge of the town near the national park and the college students would often come there.

Poe was an ordinary guy. Older than most students and have been studying for way longer than most of them; they often found themselves changing courses and dropping out. Truly, they didn't even want to go to college, if it was their choice they'd just take any job they can and live humbly, but their parents gave them no choice and Poe didn't know how to say no. They feel trapped and don't know what to do with their life, they honestly don't know what even is there for them in this life, the future just seems so bleak and they feel lost. And the weight of expectations from their family feels like it's crushing them.

That forest becomes one of the very few places Poe can relax, so they come by often. One day though, they strayed off the path and very quickly became lost. They've been walking for what felt like hours and the forest felt like it was changing around them. The clumsy idiot tripped and fell down the hill, breaking their leg in the process, crying out in pain. They couldn't go any further, so they resorted to calling out for help, though it felt pointless toom

But then, something they'd never expected happened. Out from the trees came a giant man, though he looked more like a beast than a man. Poe, obviously, tried to back away as far as they could, stricken with fear. Yet, Leshy had no ill intentions, he simply sighed in disappointment. "I've been trying to lead you out of my forest, and you had to go and break your leg?" he comes closer and leans over the small human. "Come." He easily picks Poe up, who's just frozen in shock and doesn't fight it. Leshy doesn't say anything else as he takes Poe to the main path and leans him down under a tree. "There are park rangers just around the corner, yell and they'll come help. And try not to get lost in my forest again." Was the last thing Leshy said to them before retreating back into the treeline.

Now, a normal human would probably never go back to that forest. Not Poe though! His immediate reaction is to go back the second his leg is better and try to find the mysterious forest man again. He just doesn't fuck off after that and becomes Leshy's constant annoyance.