#but it’s interesting to discover it for the first time | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

darnell-la · 2 days

Text

𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥

pairing: the wolverine x assassin!reader

warning: Wolverine struggling to regenerate, stabbing, brutal killing, manhandling, pinning, trapped, cutting clothes off, breaking skin, rough sex, begged, hard orgasm, etc.

request: After Logan gets taken back to Japan for his old friend buddy's last goodbye, idk if you've seen that movie but you know how their interaction goes, and then the old friend dies. Basically, people start going after his granddaughter uh sorry anyway after the old friend's funeral Logan gets away with the granddaughter and heads to the safe house. Once there Logan gets to relax for a few days till more bad guys show up and try taking the granddaughter. It makes Logan angry and as he ends up fighting one of the bad guys he discovers it's a female and that's when female y/n comes in place. Maybe Logan is just too tired and overall angry he takes it out on y/n in a very aggressive nsfw fashion of course

note: this story is a bit all over the place because of how angry the Wolverine is in here. He isn’t as nice as usual. He takes what he wants, and of course, y/n’s going to take it all.

Please comment, like, reblog, request, and follow us!

———

How do you guys feel about a x men story with reader? Logan being rude Logan at first, then slowly shows small affection towards the reader. Jealousy and things of that sort. They soon hit it off, and after Logan starts acting rude again, because he’s scared of the love he grew for her. It’ll be a long story, but something to read at night. ALL ON WATTPAD! Comment below, please!

———

“Mariko?” Logan growled as he woke up on the couch he chose to take so the princess could take the bed. “Hey — Mariko!” Logan groans, sleeping from the well-needed nap after all he’s been through for the past few days.

“Hey?” Logan heard Mariko speak as she opened the front door. Logan quickly leaned up from the couch, remembering that there were people after her.

“Shit,” the man groaned under his breath as he got up, falling at first, but got back up and ran to the front door. She was speaking to someone who he couldn’t see.

“Alright, talk time over,” Logan said as he pulled Mariko from the door. He went to shut it until he saw who stood in front of him. A woman.

“Hi, I was just wondering if you were interested in some fruits?” The woman asked, making him look down at the covered basket she had in hand.

“Come on, Logan — We haven’t eaten a good meal in a while,” the princess spoke behind Logan. He had jumped at her voice, almost forgetting she was there. He was too focused on the woman standing before him in a white wavey dress.

“Uh- Sure, sure — Two for the lady and one for me,” Logan said as he dug into his pockets, looking down to see if he had changed on him.

As Logan locked for chained, he saw the woman open the basket. He saw the fruit, but under the few was a knife. A sharp snide that looked like it was made out of carbonadium. Something that can kill him.

“Shit- Princess, safe room-“ before he could finish as he turned around, the woman kicked open the door, making the man fall to the ground.

Mariko screamed as y/n ripped her dress off, showing her in a suit. The wavey skirt and the tight shirt that was swordproof, made Mariko’s heart pound. She knew this was the doing of her father.

Y/n jumped onto the man’s back as several other men came into the house from different angles.

Y/n quickly stuck the man in his upper shoulder, causing him to yell out in pain. She twisted in carbonadium knife, smirking at the pain he finally could feel. “You won’t be healing soon,” she said before getting off of the man to go after Mariko.

“No, no!” The man tried grabbing after the woman, but he couldn’t. The pain that went through his shoulder only angered him. This whole fucking situation angered him.

Logan growled as he struggled to get up onto his knees. It took him a while, but he finally got to his feet, almost tipping over, but he held himself together.

The man reached behind his back, struggling to find the knife until he did. The man gripped it hard before pulling it out with an animalistic yell.

“Hurry! He’s coming back!” Y/n, the woman yelled at her men as they tried breaking done the steal door Mariko was hiding behind. She was quick to run, giving Logan time to get up and active.

“Who sent you?” Logan asked, slightly knowing who it could be, but he needed to know for sure. “He’s back! Fight!” Y/n yelled, making her men turn around and attack Logan.

Y/n stayed behind, trying to cut the wires to the key, but it would take a while. She needed to cut the right ones.

The noises Logan made as he fought the men with carbonadium swords, slightly scared y/n. She told Mariko’s grandfather that she was ready, but she knew nothing about Logan.

He was an animal. An animal that has been holding anger for years, and these past few days have been bottling up inside of him.

The carbonadium wasn’t working on the man. Yes, it cut through his skin, making it sting worse than usual, but he still slightly healed. The adrenaline in his body was the danger.

“Retreat! Retreat!” One of her men said, making her turn around to see Logan rip apart the last few remaining. She jumped at the way his claws sliced one’s neck.

Logan was on one knee, in a superhero landing position as he breathed heavily, claws out and to the side as he tightened his fists.

“Shit,” y/n took off and ran towards the back door that was open after Logan looked up at her. His eyes were dark, his fangs showed, his mouth quivered and his growls were deep. She was the last one left. She needed to get out.

Y/n almost made it to the front door, hoping she could make it to the van they all came in, but she was caught and thrown back in the house.

Y/n whined as she grabbed her side, feeling pain in an instant. She was no mutant. She was a human. She’s trained almost her whole life, but she would never stand a chance against someone like the Wolverine.

“I’ll give you a chance like I gave you men. Who sent you!?” Logan asked, walking over to her as she slowly crawled backward on the floor.

“Please, spare me,” the young lady said as he held a hand out, still not willing to give up her senpai’s name. “Who the fuck sent you woman!” Logan yelled as he hovered over her.

“Logan! The fight is done, just let her go! This is not her fault!” Mariko yelled from inside the safe room. As Logan heard her pushing the codes, he ran over to the door and roped out the outside keypad, making the inside malfunction.

“Logan? Logan! Logan!” Mariko yelled, feeling his anger from inside the room. “Stay there, princess. I’ve got some business to take care of,” Logan said as he looked back at y/n.

Y/n quickly got up in pain and ran. She yelled, hoping someone would maybe hear and help her, but even if they could hear her, who would want to go against the Wolverine.

“You ain’t gettin’ out of here,” Logan lunged after the young lady until he got her, picking her up and slamming onto the hardwood table in the dining room.

Y/n yelped, trying to move and get rid of the pain, but Logan picked her up and slammed her back onto the table.

“Ow!” She cried out as he stared down at her in anger. One hand retracted his claws as he pushed her shoulder down and the other stayed out, hovering over her face.

“Don’t make me hurt you if I don’t have to, Bub. Who sent you?” The man asked as his blades slightly stuck at her neck to scare her.

Usually, he would’ve killed her but now, the way she looked at him in fear and struggled with his one hand on her shoulder, made his breathing slow down. She wasn’t alarming. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him.

“You were badass just a second ago. Climbing in my back and stabbing me with that carbonadium or adamantium shit,”

“Please, just- Just let me go,” y/n begged as the blades broke the skin, making tears slip from her eyes. “Why can’t you just tell me, kid. You’re risking your life for someone who doesn’t care for yours,” Logan said, feeling a bit sad for the young lady, but he couldn’t show that. At least not at this time.

“I will never give his name. I serve him with all my life,” y/n said, eyes so glossy, she could barely see Logan. “That’s a shame, princess,” Logan traced his blades down the girl's neck, making viable scratches.

The man watched the woman’s mouth part, trying to keep in the pain, but she was human. It stung like hell.

“You’ll do anything for your master? Anything?” He asked as his blade stopped in the middle of her shirt, at the top of the collar. “Anything,” she tried seeming tough, but that soon faded as the made ripped at her suit.

Y/n’s tits flashed the man, making him groan low. “No bra on a mission? What did you expect when you got here?” Logan said, making it seem like she dressed this way for him.

“W-Wolverine, please,” y/n sobbed low as his eyes trailed down the rest of her body. “Pretty girls shouldn’t be out on missions. Especially for me. Do you know what I do to those girls?” Logan asked as he slowly lifted her skirt.

Mariko had no idea what was going on from front the outside. He had destroyed the speaker on the keypad. He can tell himself he didn’t plan this, but distorting the speaker could argue against that.

“P-Please — Take her, and I’ll leave. I won’t follow,” y/n said, feeling her heart rate speed up. “But I haven’t told you what I do to pretty girls like you,” Logan said as his blade trailed down her stomach until it cut her panties.

Y/n whined as she bucked her hips, trying to get from under him, but there was no use. The man chuckles as he rips the rest of her panties off.

“I teach them a real lesson,” Logan said as he began tugging on his belt. “W-Wolverine, stop this. Spare me, I swear I won’t follow,” Y/n said as her eyes kept switching from his eyes to his crotch.

“After I’m done with you, you’ll be coming with us. You’ve fucked yourself over,” Logan said. “N-No — No, I can’t,” y/n finally began pushing at his arm and pushed her shoulder down.

Logan retracted his last claws before he reached into his jeans and pulled himself out. Y/n had stopped moving for a second, eyes widening as she scanned his length.

The man was painfully hard, cock red and slightly blue as pre cum slipped past the slit of his tip. “N-No,” y/n stuttered as she slowly began to fight again, kicking and clawing at him, but nothing was working.

“You said you’d do anything for your master. Let’s see how much you’ll do,” he said as he moved up in between her legs, making her legs part wide.

“N-No, sir!” Y/n pushed at his lower stomach as he pushed at her entrance. “C’mon, princess. Let me in,” Logan growled, hands coming to her waist to grip and pull her into him.

“S-Sir,” y/n stuttered with a whine as she threw her head back. The young lady's back arched as her hands grabbed his wrist, trying to grab onto something to help the pain she felt in her lower stomach.

He was huge, and he knew that. He was just too angry to care about it. He needed to take it out somehow, and this random assassin that was sent to kill him and take Mariko was perfect. She was perfect.

“Should’ve quit, baby. Should’ve said no to this mission,” the man began moving at a fast hard pace, watching her body jolt at his strokes.

“P-Please, stop!” Y/n cried out, feeling her orgasm near. She was going to cum by the Wolverine pounding into her. How could she? How could she do this to her people?

“You sure, Bub? You’re about to cum — I can feel it,” Logan growled as he snapped his hips faster, watching her grip his worst tightened and shake her head.

It was getting hard to hold in her moans. He used her so well, and she couldn’t lie and say she hated it. Her body said the complete opposite. She was going to gush around him, and he was going to shoot it.

“Names Logan, by the way, Bub, and I’m gonna use all my anger out on you,”

Logan pulled back and picked the girl up, throwing her over his shoulders, and made his way into the spare room he let Mariko have last night.

“L-Logan,” y/n said the man’s name, not actually knowing why. The man threw y/n on the bed, instantly hovered over her, and turned her onto her stomach.

“Please, spare-“ y/n went to beg again, embarrassed that she wanted to explode, but he ignored her as he forced his way back through her slit, stretching her at a different angle.

Y/n cried into the pillow as her hands flew back, trying to slow his thrust by placing her hands on his lower stomach.

The man was shirtless when he opened the door, and at first, y/n was thankful for that because she could stab him better, but now, she was glad that she could feel him.

She was a struggling mess, giving him a hard time, but she knew deep down she loved this. She loved being taken just like this by him. By the Wolverine.

“C’mon, baby — Take it,” Logan grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them on her back before pushing down and snapping his hips.

Y/m felt like her back was going to break. Her vision had already gone blurry and her legs had started trembling.

With no words, only moans, y/n came around Logan’s cock, soaking him and the bed. “Ah huh, ah huh,” the man groaned as one of his hands gripped her hair and pulled her head back to hear her.

“Don’t fuckin’ hide it, kid. Cry on my cock proudly. Keep sickin’ me in for your master,” Logan said with a smirk, knowing she’d feel embarrassed if he knew what she was up to.

“Assassin my ass — Look at you. Fuckin’ weak. So fuckin’ weak, you can barely talk,” Logan teased before pushing her head into the pillow she was just crying in.

“Take it, take it! Fuckin’ take me, baby,”

197 notes · View notes

gabrielleragusi · 11 hours

Text

For Artists: My Experience with Commission Platforms and Illustration Agencies

Hi there! I’ve been wanting to compile a list of commission platforms that I’ve personally used for the longest time, and I finally did it! I’ve highlighted the still-active commission platforms in bold and struck those that don't exist anymore so you can jump to the sections that interest you without needing to read my entire story.

Let me start by briefly introducing myself.

I’m Gabrielle, a fantasy illustrator. Since 2014, I’ve been working on book covers and illustrations for publishers, authors, and book subscription boxes. Early on, work wasn’t as frequent as it is now. I had to search for opportunities myself, and even small private commissions were important for building my portfolio and earning some money, which I’d spend on materials, books, and online courses. Like many other artists, I started out by trying my luck with the biggest art community available at the time.

DeviantArt

2009-2018

Once upon a time, there was a virtual haven called DeviantArt. To my teenage self, it was a magical place. I signed up in 2009 and thought I’d never leave!

At first, I created an account just to share my work and learn. I didn’t even think about commissions for four or five years. But when that first inquiry finally landed in my inbox, things took off! My mum swears she remembers my excitement when I got my first commission, but for some reason, I’ve completely forgotten about it. I can't remember what it was or how much it paid. It might have been a portrait of a fantasy character.

Commissions on DeviantArt were fairly frequent, especially considering my cheap prices at the time. I used to offer discounts and post my rates in my DeviantArt journal, or in Commission groups that featured artists either monthly or weekly. After checking out my profile, a client could simply send me a private message and from there, we’d discuss payment, deadlines, and other details, and the platform didn’t take any fees, much like how ArtStation works today. Everything happened through private messages or email, with direct contact between artist and client.

The downside of this process was that there was no dispute resolution system on the platform. I had to handle all issues myself, and unfortunately, problems did arise sometimes: there were clients changing their minds about commissions, asking for refunds after work was delivered, refusing to pay, or just ghosting me. These issues didn’t happen because clients were evil, but rather because I was inexperienced and allowed some to take advantage of my naivety.

However, all that frustration helped me develop my commission process through trial and error (mostly error). And despite the challenges, I can say with satisfaction that most of the commissions I received through my DeviantArt profile were positive experiences.

DeviantArt eventually introduced a commission feature for Core (Premium) users, which came with a platform fee, but I didn’t use it much, and I’m not sure if it still exists.

The real beauty of dA, though, was the connections I made. I was able to meet people, both artists and clients, that I’m still in contact with today, and some of whom I still collaborate with.

I closed my account in 2018 or 2019, but by that time, I hadn’t really used it for a couple of years. The new user interface was a bit of a turn-off for me. I had always loved the geeky, and dare I say cozy, look of the old green and grey aesthetic, with its customisable panels that you could move around and personalise with HTML code... But I digress.

Artists and Clients

2013-2016

While taking small commissions on DeviantArt, I discovered Artists & Clients. It was a nice platform for clients to get things like their D&D characters or groups illustrated for relatively cheap. I think my highest price was $50 for a single character portrait, with the platform taking a 15% cut. I used it for about two or three years before the platform started to change.

As more artists with hentai art styles flooded in, the homepage shifted, and so did the clientele. There’s nothing wrong with drawing naked anime girls, of course, but you can understand that if a client is looking for a fantasy, semi-realistic painting of their female orc character, or a realistic portrait of their spouse, it's more than likely that they won't bother sifting through a sea of anime girls to find the style they want, imagining it isn't here. Let's just say that, at the time, the website took a definite direction that wasn't in line with my genre, but this direction didn't make the different, more realistic art styles stand out either.

Soon, commissions slowed down for me, so I closed my account, but by then I was already working elsewhere.

That said, this platform could still be a useful tool if you’re looking to take on smaller commissions.

DreamUp

2014-2015

DreamUp wasn’t an AI generator back then. It was actually a subsidiary of DeviantArt, where clients could post projects and artists could apply. It was a competitive platform that offered well-paid work–very well-paid. I remember seeing jobs posted that ranged from $300 to $1,200. DreamUp was a very professional platform for clients with a mid to high budget.

I believe I landed my very first book cover commission through this website when I was in my last year of high school. I remember getting the job and going to school the next morning, excited to share the news with my classmates. Everyone was super thrilled for me (we were a really close-knit class!), and I felt like I was walking on air.

Unfortunately, as far as I know, that book was never released, but it didn’t matter because I was moving forward, and fast.

I’m not sure when DreamUp was shut down, but I do know that DeviantArt held onto the copyrighted name, assigning it to something so anti-old DreamUp that it still boggles my mind.

ArtCorgi

Now Artistree

2014-2019

When I received an invitation to join ArtCorgi from its founder, I already had a somewhat consistent portfolio. I was painting portraits and fantasy illustrations, and the clients on this platform were looking for both–your typical wedding and pet portraits, as well as book covers, which were what really interested me. To get to the latter, I had to do the former. Over the years, I’ve painted so many realistic portraits that now I have a strict rule for my own sanity not to do them any more. I have great respect for portrait artists, but it’s just not me.

When I first submitted my prices to the person I was in contact with, she kindly suggested that I raise them... a lot. That was a major step forward in my professional career. I went from charging $50 to $100/$200 overnight. And to my surprise, people actually wanted to commission me at those prices!

From 2014 to 2019, I took nearly every commission that came my way. I never spoke directly with the clients; all instructions and feedback went through my point of contact, which helped maintain a level of professionalism, although now that I’m used to working directly with clients, I’m not sure I’d want to go back to having an intermediary.

Sadly, as with all good things, this chapter came to an end. My point of contact eventually left communication in the hands of someone else, and shortly after, the commission fee changed to, I believe, 30%.

Simply put, 30% is an unrealistic cut for a website like this. For an agent that gets you all kinds of big work in the publishing industry, sure, but since this was not the case I had to stop taking commissions. Despite that, my overall experience with ArtCorgi was very positive.

Today, ArtCorgi joined another platform, Artistree. As far as I can tell, Artistree doesn’t take any fees from artists, with clients covering a small cost instead.

Sketchmob (?)

2016-2020

This was probably the platform I used the most. I’ve lost count of how many commissions I received through Sketchmob. Many. Enough to generate a steady income at the time. With reasonable fees and a variety of art styles available, clients contacted me almost daily. Communication was direct between artists and clients, and payments could be split. The review system also worked very well… for a while.

Once I raised my prices, requests became fewer and farther apart. But by then, I was already working with my own clients.

Is this platform still active? Who knows. The website is still up and the chat feature works, but I’ve seen users complain that money available for withdrawal never arrived via PayPal (the only payment method the platform accepted, if I remember correctly). Personally, I wouldn’t risk completing a job through Sketchmob right now, at least not until they release an update.

If you’ve used the platform recently and successfully received payment within the last six months, please let me know, and I’d be happy to update this section!

Upwork

2017-2019

In 2017, I was determined to break into the book publishing industry. After trying out Fiverr and Freelancer.com with no success (the competition was too fierce for someone just starting out), I decided to give Upwork a shot. The platform looked very professional, and while the process sounded a bit complicated, I wanted to land the interesting projects I saw featured in my category. I really wanted to work with a big client… but big clients didn’t seem to want me, despite having the Rising Talent badge.

In two years of bidding for jobs and submitting proposals, I only landed two projects: a small commission from a private client who actually reached out to me, and another project that I bid on.

Don’t get me wrong, I was ecstatic at the time and truly appreciated every opportunity that came my way. But looking back, I can see why Upwork didn’t work out for me. The platform just wasn’t the right fit for my style and niche, which is fantasy illustration. Graphic design, however, was (and still is) in much higher demand.

The commission process on Upwork wasn’t as simple as on other platforms. For instance, at the time, costs were calculated hourly, which was a challenge for someone like me who prefers working with flat fees (having already calculated my average hours spent on an illustration). From what I’ve seen, this has since changed.

One positive aspect of Upwork is its current 10% cut on what artists earn. I don’t recall if this has changed over the years, but 10% is quite reasonable in my experience. Of course, 0% would be even better, but for a platform as large as Upwork, 10% is fair.

Illustration Agency

2019-2021

By 2019, I had built a solid, consistent portfolio thanks to my personal work and commissions. I had a simple website in place, my Instagram following was growing… I was steadily working toward my goal of illustrating covers for big publishers (which didn't happen until two years ago).

So, when an illustration agency reached out to me one day, I was over the moon. I had always heard that artists were the ones who had to approach agencies, not the other way around.

Well, that should have been my first red flag.

I won’t name this agency because, unfortunately, I have nothing positive to say about it. In fact, the word “nothing” perfectly describes my involvement with them. Nothing came of this barely there experience.

The agency invited me to sign up, not on an exclusive basis, but they assured me they’d get me work. That work never came. Once in a while, I’d receive messages saying they were trying to pitch my portfolio to a French publisher or another client, but... nothing.

Please understand that meanwhile I was already working directly with shops and authors, so I don’t believe my portfolio was the problem. The real issue was something I didn’t realise at the time: some agencies do this. They feature talented artists in their catalogue without having actual clients lined up, just to appear more professional and credible to potential clients. Did this strategy work for them? Maybe. I’ll never know.

In 2021, I politely asked them to remove my portfolio from their website, and that was the end of it.

After that, I never actively sought out an agent again. By the time my portfolio was strong enough to approach a serious agency, I just didn’t need representation anymore.

Hireillo

2019-2022

My experience with Hire an Illustrator, or Hireillo, is mixed. At the time, Hireillo was a platform that hosted artists' portfolios, featured artist-submitted news, provided useful articles, resources, and directories of artists and agents. I joined the site hoping to catch the eye of publishers, but I was mostly contacted by authors and one fellow artist for a graphic novel.

Unfortunately, most inquiries didn’t go beyond the first couple of messages due to budget constraints. I did, however, have fun sharing news about my painting process and projects I landed on my own, which were often featured by the website. Additionally, if I had questions about 'complicated' things like copyright, or just needed advice, I could ask the website’s owner and that was incredibly helpful.

Despite these benefits, I didn’t see any real results, which was a little disappointing. The subscription fee was also... odd, for lack of a better word. $5 per week. In the end I just couldn’t justify the cost, so I stopped using the website altogether.

Reedsy

2019-2022

Finally, we come to the turning point.

I remember stumbling upon Reedsy randomly. It wasn’t very well known at the time, and I think it still isn’t. I was nervous when I submitted my portfolio because their catalogue features the best of the best: designers who’ve created covers for bestsellers, THE bestsellers, people who’ve worked on Stephen King covers, or George R.R. Martin's. Designers, editors, and marketers who are veterans. I didn’t have high hopes for my application. So, I was in shock when it got accepted.

I had an introductory Skype call with a representative from Reedsy, who explained how everything worked. Before the call ended, I remember asking if there was a good chance I’d get work through the platform. The rep laughed and said, “Yes.”

A few weeks in, I understood that laugh.

Reedsy has an overwhelming demand for book covers and commercial projects. For every designer there are many more clients. In peak seasons, I was getting requests almost every day. I’m not exaggerating.

Reedsy transformed my portfolio and my pricing structure. Thanks to the income I earned through the platform, I was finally able not to take everything that came my way but be selective and choose only the projects that really interested me.

The commission process is simple: artists pretty much decide how to split payments, what to include in agreements, and the best part, the most beautiful and helpful feature of all, they can request and adjust deadlines. For someone like me who's terrible with deadlines, this feature was a lifesaver. The admins are also very kind and responsive, available via email or chat.

Unfortunately (this is my last 'unfortunately', I promise), my time on Reedsy came to an end for personal reasons. I’ll explain since it’s no secret.

All my images on Reedsy were watermarked with my signature (my full name), which apparently violated the platform’s rules. Why? Because if a client saw my last name, they could contact me directly and bypass Reedsy, which meant the platform lost potential fees. I’ll admit this did happen a few times, but I had the good sense to redirect the client back to Reedsy.

After three years, an admin finally noticed and asked me to remove my full name from the watermark and any text on my profile. It was a simple and reasonable request, but here’s where the problem started. Profiles on Reedsy are public, and images appear in search engines like Google Images, meaning anyone could download my work and use it without permission. Sure, watermarks can be removed, but uploading my work without one in the first place felt like a bad idea. Btw, not only do I use watermarks, but I also use Glaze to protect my illustrations before sharing them online.

Anyway, for this reason, and also because I couldn’t get over the fact that full names were public at the time, something I won’t get into because, believe me, I tried over email, and my reasons went into the void (now, last names are just initialised, like Gabrielle R. Okay. Sure.), I had to close my account–they would have done it anyway because it was already 'flagged'.

Overall, if you’re willing to overlook the last name conundrum, I can’t recommend Reedsy enough. If you have a killer, solid portfolio and a love for books and editorial projects, go for it!

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

I hope you'll find this useful! If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask (: Oh, and here's an old article I wrote in 2020, titled:

Tips to freelance illustrators to avoid being screwed over

Who knows, maybe I'll write another 'article' post in four years!

Instagram - ArtStation - Website - Inprnt - Etsy - TikTok

#art #artists on tumblr #Article #For Artists: My Experience with Commission Platforms and Illustration Agencies #Commissions #Illustration #Design #freelancer #gabrielle ragusi

107 notes · View notes

mercurymessiah · 2 days

Text

I feel like no one talks enough about how in Deadpool & Wolverine, Magneto and Quicksilver were mentioned by Gambit to be apart of the resistance group (before perishing in the fight against Cassandra). To my knowledge, it’s not confirmed that they’re the exact same versions from the Fox films, but it did spark some interest in me. The writers of the film could have chosen any other X-men characters to name drop in that scene, but ironically it’s the dadneto + quickson duo. What are the chances?

Erik and Pietro were fighting alongside each other, on the same team. For the first time, they’re forced in close proximity and have to work together, meaning companionship is inevitable. But all at a cost, unfortunately.

Were they sent to the Void together, or are they from seperate universes? Did either of them ever discover their relations to one another? What became of that relationship before their untimely end? I have so many questions that i’ll know go unanswered so I would love to write this scenario into a fic, even if the ending is inevitably sad for both of them.

It’s far from ideal circumstances, but I like to think that they found solace in one another before Cassandra killed them. It makes for a super angsty story, but not without merit.

#peter maximoff #pietro maximoff #quicksilver #erik lehnsherr #magneto #xmen #x men movies #deadpool and wolverine #dadneto #quickson

78 notes · View notes

fakeboycorrection · 1 day

Text

Fakeboy story time! This one's a long one, so I'm sure some of you dumber, hornier fakeboys will have to read it in multiple sittings.

Kai had always known that they were nonbinary, ever since they were young. People had always tried putting them in dresses, or getting them into makeup, but it had never felt right. Though, to be fair, typical masculine things had never felt right either. They just didn't feel like they were drawn towards either of those. And though they didn't have a word for it for the longest time, when they first heard about enby people, they knew that's where they belonged.

Going off to college was great for them. Kai had become part of a community of plenty of other trans people, learning about the culture and understanding that gender wasn't some binary thing based on genitals, but something on a spectrum that couldn't be encapsulated with just the simple terms that they had learned growing up. As Kai educated themselves, they grew more and more into a leadership role. Eventually, they even became the president of a group on campus dedicated to spreading the trans rights movement, focused on educating people and allowing themselves to liberate themselves from the restrictions of their genders, just like Kai had been, years ago. They spoke at events, handed out pamphlets, and spent long nights staying up with their trans friends, being a shoulder to cry on as they would start their journey into transitioning.

Of course, Kai also got up to some fun activities on their own, outside of these movements. As a young, sexually liberated enby, they were always looking for some ways to have fun with others and in private. Though they considered themselves a lesbian, and had plenty nice encounters with girls on campus, they had a lot more fun spending some late nights in their dorm room, masturbating to porn online. Some of it was more tame, some of it was more kinky, but it was always uplifting to women and enbies, showing the ways that their bodies could be used to empower themselves, sharing pleasure with the world. Kai loved it, getting deeper and deeper down these rabbit holes, until one day discovering a forum of people that used remotely controlled toys to connect with others around the world, allowing them to control vibrators and choose when to give pleasure out. Kai rushed off to the store, getting one, and logging back into the forum for some fun. They had a lot of fun with girls around the world, even some from different countries, until one day having an interesting encounter with an anonymous account from the site.

"Hey, you interested in some fun?" Was the message they'd received. Kai looked at the account it came from, but it was mostly blank, just saying that it was from a man who was about their age.

"Hi, sorry, I'm usually only into girls and enbies. Hope you have fun with someone else!" They replied, trying to let him down easy. They were about to set their phone down when they got another message.

"Haha, really? I mean, it all happens through a vibrator, and my account doesn't even have a face on it. You could pretend I'm anyone." Kai considered it for a moment. They were really horny after all, and they hadn't gotten any other requests. They decided to indulge, sticking their vibrator into their pants until it was positioned snuggly on their clit.

"Fine, let's get this going, oh mystery man." They smirked slightly, knowing that it would be fun regardless.

"See, there's a good toy." He replied. Kai felt the vibrator turn on, feeling like it was at max strength, causing an involuntary gasp to come out of their mouth. After taking a moment to collect themselves, they replied.

"Wow, going full force off the bat? Don't you know how to properly tease an enby?"

"Oh I know how to. Just giving you a taste of it, so you'll know what you're missing when I do this." And suddenly, the vibrations disappeared completely.

"Hey hey hey! I didn't mean take it away completely!" Kai sent quickly, wanting the pleasure back immediately.

"Then I guess you shouldn't have been so bratty. Apologize, and you can have it back." Kai rolled his eyes and sent a message back.

"Ugh, fine. I'm sorry." Kai waited for a second, but nothing happened. They checked their phone.

"Now, is that any way to apologize to the guy controlling your cunt? Have some manners." They read. Kai wanted to roll their eyes again, but actually felt something stirring inside them at reading that. They decided to take it seriously.

"Okay, I'm really sorry sir. It won't happen again." They replied. Immediately, the vibrator flipped back on, but only to about half strength. It wasn't perfect, but Kai wasn't going to risk losing it again by talking back.

"There we go, that's better. You look so cute in your profile pic. You shouldn't put such a bratty scowl on it." Kai shuddered with a bit more pleasure. They'd forgotten they'd posted a pic of themselves on there. Whoever this man was, he could see exactly what the toy he was playing with looked like.

"Oh come on, you get to see me, but I don't get to see you?" Kai responded, relishing the small amount of pleasure in their pussy. After a few moments a new message popped up, not text, but a picture of the mystery man's cock.

"You like what you see? I might not post my face on here, but I'd argue this is better." Kai stared at the pic for a moment in shock. It was a sizable cock, bigger than any of the toys they'd used in the past. Right after he sent the pic, the man turned the vibrator up, sending more pleasure into Kai's hole.

"Hey! That's not fair, asking if I like something, then turning the vibe up. Now I basically have to say yes..." Kai moaned slightly again. Though they'd only ever been fucked with straps before, they had to admit, the cock did look enticing.

"The only part of that message I choose to acknowledge is the "Yes". But I think we both already knew that was the answer, didn't we? :)" Kai chuckled to themselves. This guy was smug, but he wasn't wrong. This was already the most turned on they'd been while using this site, and the night had barely started.

"Yeah, you're right, okay... sir? Please, give me some more pleasure. I'll even say more nice things for you, like "sir". Kai responded, partially doing it to get more pleasure, but partially because it felt so good to be submissive. They hadn't talked to someone with this level of dominance in quite a while.

"Mmm, I do like hearing the title, but I think there's some other things you can say to earn more vibrations. Some more fun things... Some things you might not want to say..." Kai looked at their phone with a hint of apprehension, but upon feeling the vibrations drop once more, they responded.

"Like what, sir?" They replied quickly, hoping to get the vibrator turned back up as soon as possible.

"Admit that I turn you on more than any girl ever has." He replied.

Kai stared at their phone for a moment. This guy wasn't serious, right? They responded.

"Oh come on. That's not even true, I've been with plenty of girls. You're good, but you're not better than literally all of them." After sending this, the vibrations in Kai's hole disappeared completely. They frantically messaged again.

"Wait wait wait, turn it back up!"

"Not until I hear what I want to hear." He responded. Kai looked down at their leaking, needy hole, then looked back at their keyboard before typing out the next message.

"Alright, fine. You're... better than any girl I've been with... I'll say it, even if I don't believe it." Kai immediately felt the vibrator turn back up to full power, sending another involuntary moan out of their mouth.

"There we go, that wasn't so hard, now was it? And don't worry, by the end of this, that statement will be true. Trust me." Kai was starting to get annoyed at this guy's smug attitude, but had to admit. It felt a little good to say such dirty things. They'd always been attracted to people with vaginas, so saying that a man was better than them felt like something of a taboo. A good taboo. After a minute or so of relishing in the pleasure, Kai felt the vibrator slowly starting to decrease in power. They messaged back once more.

"Wait! Why are you turning it down??"

"You earned a minute for saying that. You earn more if you say more. That seems fair, doesn't it." Kai didn't feel like holding back anymore.

"Very fair, yes sir! Just give me more..."

"There we go, much better. I'll tell you what. I'll give you five minutes if you admit that you feel like more of a girl than a man."

Kai looked at this message, confused. They replied quickly, trying to get through this before the vibrator turned off completely.

"What do you mean? I'm an enby. I'm not a man or a girl."

"Yeah, but if you had to pick one, you'd say you're closer to a girl, wouldn't you?" Kai stared at this, thinking about it for a moment. Though they were an enby, they had to admit, they were more feminine than anything. This was just an admittance of that, more than anything.

"Fine, I admit. I'm closer to a girl than a man." Kai responded, feeling another wave of pleasure hit them as the vibrator turned back on. For some reason, this wave felt even more intense than the last.

"See, you're so easy to convince. And you have to say, it feels good to admit that you're a girl, doesn't it?" He replied.

"Hey, I didn't say that. I said I'm closer to a girl than a man. I'm still nonbinary." Kai replied. Though, reading "You're a girl" did send a strange twinge down their body.

"Sure, sure. I'm sure you're not thinking about how you're secretly just a slutty girl. I'm sure it doesn't turn you on to think about admitting that to me, a man, someone you're not even supposed to be turned on by in the first place." Reading that, Kai moaned again. They didn't even fully understand their own feelings at this point, yet it seemed like this man was speaking their thoughts before they could even think them.

"Fuck, how did you know what I was thinking? Also, still not fair! I'm only turned on by that stuff because you're pleasuring my hole when I was thinking about it." Kai responded, denying the allegations as best as possible.

"Maybe, but why were you thinking those things in the first place? Maybe those thoughts are more true than you realize..." Kai read this, getting even more turned on, feeling like they were getting closer and closer to an orgasm. At this point, they didn't care if it was true or not, they just needed to get pushed over that edge.

"Fine, maybe you're right, just please make me cum sir! I'll be a good little enby, or a good girl, just for tonight if you let me!" They responded, knowing that they were closing in on the end of their five minutes.

"Mmm, I don't know about that..." He responded. Kai felt a wave of despair as the pleasure started to fade from their pussy. "But I'll tell you what. If you can think of the most vile, humiliating, pathetic thing that you can admit to me, and promise me that you'll consider actually believing it, I'll let you cum..."

Kai was desperate at this point, so they gave in almost immediately. "I'm a girl. I'm a girl for you and I want to serve your wishes, sir!"

"That's not nearly enough..." He responded. Kai felt the pleasure disappearing even more. They continued, getting more desperate as the orgasm started to seem unreachable.

"Okay, um... I'll never be a man, or an enby! I'll always be a girl! A straight girl a cis girl, who thinks men like you are superior!" Kai held out hope, but the pleasure continued to disappear.

"Not quite enough... I need even more than that, pretty girl..." Kai was on the verge of tears at this point, desperate to cum. So desperate, that she decided to give in, and let out her deepest, darkest, most real thoughts and fears.

"I'll never be an enby because it's all bullshit! None of us are nonbinary, we're all just attention seeking sluts that need men like you to fuck us! Please sir, I'm just a desperate, slutty girl that needs your cock in me to fix me. Please please cum in me so I can cum, knowing that I'm serving my true purpose as girl, please a cis, straight man's cock! That's all that any of us trans whores want!" Right as she sent it, Kai felt a warm wave of pleasure flow into her cunt. Strangely enough, the pleasure hit her before the vibrator even turned on, though it did turn back on in the end, launching her over the edge and giving her the best orgasm of her life. She came, moaning like a girl, barely able to see as the next message came into her phone. She sat there for minutes, trying to get over the massive shocks of pleasure that kept flowing through her body. Eventually, she managed to regain her composure, panting with her tongue out, and picked up her phone. The next message she read made her heart skip a beat, and the needy, aching feeling in her cunt return.

"Good girl, cumming for me. Your moans sounded beautiful, but you're being a bit loud. I'm in the room above you. Come on up and see how a real man treats a girl, little Miss. "Trans Rights Club" President.

She'd never felt fear like she did at that moment. And she had never felt as horny as she did, walking to the stairs, and heading up into his room.

#detrans kink #ftm detrans kink #ftm girl #ftm misgendering #detrans female #forced detrans #forced detransition #fake boy #fakeboy

69 notes · View notes

skylark325 · 2 days

Text

so you know how kimcom have an ‘experience’ in hyunsung’s time in the military and help him get over his trauma? i kinda want to see yjh do that in dokja’s childhood.

both of them going to school together and yjh witnessing 18!dokja shirk into the shadows and keep away from people only for his eyes to come to life when he’s reading three ways. i want yjh to see those bullies going after dokja for reading his life story and beat the daylights out of them for it. he’ll see first hand just how his story saved dokja and try to act all tsundere about it only to feel his heart twist inside.

i want him to become dokja’s first friend and maybe get him into gaming and they can discover those story+fighting games so they both have something they’re interested in and he can make murim dumplings for dokja on his birthday cuz dokja prob spent his birthdays alone and dokja can try to get yjh into three ways so there’s one other person in the fandom only for dokja to realise yjh already knows the story and dokja won’t be alone in his love for the web novel anymore fgshdjdjfmfk

dokja excitedly turning to yjh after the latest update going “omg did you read the latest chapter? joonghyuk is so cool, i can’t believe he won against someone so powerful. as expected of our protagonist.” with a proud smile on his face and yjh watches him with a conflicted expression as his heart twinges because of all the things he wants to say but can’t.

edit: I just realized, watching bby kdj read and go through the story will help yjh come to appreciate and value himself more (one can dream) and understand himself through a different perspective by seeing himself through the eyes of someone who truly loves him.

#might write it after logic of love is done #idk my inner child needs to see kdj heal from his childhood trauma #fic ideas #joongdok fic #omniscient reader's viewpoint #kim dokja #orv kdj #joongdok #yoo joonghyuk #yoo junghyuk #orv spoilers

64 notes · View notes

thedovesaredying · 17 hours

Text

Fire Meet Flesh | Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader | Dragon AU | Part 1

(GoT Screenshot)

Ghost is the last remaining dragon. He, alongside his human rider, Johnny, patrol their kingdom's border and protect its people from those who would do them harm. Just the threat of a fully grown dragon is enough to deter enemy kingdoms from striking, but this leaves Ghost rather lonely. That is until he discovers you.

He's determined to win you over, but even with no competition, can a dragon who has no idea what he's doing earn your heart?

A/N: Fun little AU fic where Ghost and Reader are both dragons! Body-wise the dragons are more like wyverns, with a set of wings and one pair of legs.

Words: 1,430

Warnings: Unedited.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

“The hell has gotten into you, Ghost?” Soap groans for the umpteenth time that morning, yanking on the reigns attached to the dragon’s chest only to sigh in exasperation when Ghost simply continues on regardless. Nothing the Scotsman can say will sway the dragon from the task at hand, they’re on a mission of the greatest importance, even if Soap doesn’t know it yet.

At another round of expletives from the brunette, Ghost shakes his head with a snarl, refusing all attempts at getting him to turn around. They’re deeper into the mountain woodland than they’ve ever travelled before, completely uncharted territory. While most dragons are trained from a mere few days of age to obey their riders, Ghost never had such an education, the only remaining member of the now extinct wild dragons.

He was captured as a fledgling and locked away as part of the spoils of war. While the rest of his species were slaughtered, and the handful of domestic dragons battled against one another, Ghost was left to rot in a dungeon far too small to contain his rapidly growing body. Brothers turned on brothers, sisters on sisters, and parents were made to kill their own hatchlings in the name of their human kings. His once golden scales faded to a sickly white after years of living in darkness, and his throat, snout and legs were permanently scarred from the chaffing of iron chains. Humans had done nothing but bring pain and suffering to him and his fellow dragons, used their loyalty to their riders against them to bring about the ruin of their species.

Soap was originally brought before him as another prisoner, someone he was supposed to burn and then consume – the first meal he’d seen in several weeks at that point – but the strange human had been smart enough to convince him they could work together to escape. He only bonded with his Johnny with the intention of leaving him the moment they were free, but it would seem the connection between a dragon and their chosen rider goes much deeper than Ghost had realised at the time.

Even if he wanted to, Ghost couldn’t get rid of the damn human, they were bound together for life and Ghost wouldn’t be able to have another rider until Soap’s death. If he survived the pain of a lost partner, that is. Begrudging as he was to admit it, he really couldn’t see himself bonding with another, they would either perish together or Ghost would return to the wilds, the last of his kind.

At least, that was what Ghost had thought, what the silly little humans and their so-called scholars had thought. But Ghost knew the scent of dragon, could pick it up from miles and miles away, and somewhere on this mountainside? There was another dragon.

For hours he’s forced Soap to circle the same patch of land, breathing in lungful after lungful of the delightful smell. It sends tingles down the entire length of his spine every time he catches it, but he’s not entirely certain why. That isn’t what he’s focusing on, however, rather he is more interested in trying to pinpoint where the smell is coming from. It’s difficult with how dense the trees are, but eventually, he spots a clearing large enough for them to safely land.

He twists about in the air, drifting just above the tops of the pine trees, before he lowers his legs and drops down onto the grass below, none too gently if Soap’s pained grunt is anything to go by. He tries to send something akin to an apology down their shared bond, but it’s no doubt overshadowed by the rapidly climbing excitement building within him.

Johnny just huffs at him, swinging his leg over his saddle, before clambering down Ghost’s back to the ground. “Now, what’s got ye so full o’ beans?” the human grumbles, petting at the side of Ghost’s face when he offers it. Unable to verbally explain, he merely whines and starts stepping from foot to foot, entirely restless. The display, unfortunately, just gets Soap to laugh at his enthusiasm.

Deciding to ignore his rider’s cruel mockery of his eagerness, Ghost is quick to put his snout to the ground and begin sniffing. If he were a dog, his tail would have been wagging at a mile an hour, but he’s a dragon, and dragons compose themselves with much more dignity, and so, Ghost will deny any claims Johnny makes about him practically wriggling with excitement when he catches a trail he can actually follow.

The scent takes him away from the open grass and further up the mountain, through some of the sparsely growing trees, before he finally sees physical evidence of his target. Where the trees have begun to cluster closer together, several of them have been knocked clean over, torn up roots and all, covered in deep claw-shaped gouges.

The destruction doesn’t go unnoticed by Soap, who starts trying to deter him from his search, but Ghost has a clear path to follow now, and instead picks up speed. He’s not exactly subtle as he crashes through the short bushes and branches at get in his way, and Johnny certainly isn’t helping the matter with his panicked yelling. Fortunately, he’s not so distracted that he misses the massive, gaping hole in the side of the mountain, screeching to a halt when he realises that’s where the scent is freshest.

Ancient trees form a thick canopy above the cave’s entrance, hiding it entirely from the air while still creating a space large enough for a dragon to easily enter and exit. It’s the perfect spot for a lair, far superior to the dragon stables Ghost is currently forced to live in, miserably lonely wooden structures that no longer even smell like the dragons they once housed.

This dark cavern, surrounded by only the sounds of nature – the wind, the birds, the bubbling stream nearby – and smelling strongly of a lair is perhaps the most enticing place Ghost has ever encountered. He could easily see himself choosing to roost here, hunting the grasslands at the base of the mountain and indulging in a long nap or two beside the cool stream in the midday heat.

Poor Johnny had only just caught up with him, reaching out to rest a hand on his hind leg, only for Ghost to start moving again, much to the man’s disapproval. He pokes his head into the cave, noting that it’s much deeper than he had anticipated, with tall ceilings and even a small pool of water at its centre. It’s dark inside, so much so he almost entirely misses the large form settled at the back of the cave, mistaking it for a large pile of stone.

He realises perhaps too late that the rocks are moving and is more than a little stunned to find a pair of bright green eyes blinking back at him. As his eyes rapidly adjust to the darkness, he sees the large, powerful form of the dragon who had been resting moments earlier. Your scales are completely black, blending in seamlessly with the shadows, and a large frill juts all the way from your neck to the tip of your tail. Your horns are long and sharp, pointed like the tips of deadly spears, and a deep emerald green is glowing from between your bared teeth, evidence of the flames you’re more than ready to unleash on this unknown dragon.

It hits him like a bludgeon to the face when he takes in another breath of your scent – you're not just a dragon, you’re a she-dragon. He’s not only found himself a fellow dragon, but perhaps the very last female of his species. He’s so enamoured by this discovery that he completely overlooked the fact that the two of you aren’t alone. A gasp from Johnny is all it takes for your attention to immediately shift to the human currently gaping at you from your own doorway.

It’s rather embarrassing having to later listen to Soap gripe and groan to Price and Gaz about almost being toasted by you when Ghost had to rather quickly snatch him out of the literal line of fire.

The two of you might have got off on the wrong wing, but Ghost is certain he can win you over. He’s not exactly sure how his species usually try to court one another, but he’s seen how humans attempt to woo their mates, so surely it can’t be too difficult, right?

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #fanfic #john soap mactavish #dragon au #dragons #fantasy

55 notes · View notes

soscarlett1twas · 1 day

Text

Been thinking about Andrew and Luca.

There’s something so special to me about these two men — outwardly, very different people, but they’re just so alike internally: both having a pretty isolated upbringing with little to no friends, then being thrust into college life and discovering love… and that’s where we see a rift. The outcome of that relationship diverts the course of their emotional journeys. That is, until they meet eachother.

Luca found success where Andrew did not. Luca’s college relationship landed him a fiancé, while Andrew’s was the first in a long chain of loneliness. Isaac left him, then his brother did, and all Andrew had was the choice to either drown in his feelings, or drown in work. He chose work. And that pivoted them to meet, as without Andrew’s drive, he never would have become the young professor Luca TA’d for. He built himself wax wings to soar; but we all know the end of that myth.

Luca, meanwhile, was with the love of his life. Someone who supported him relentlessly for simply being him. It’s pretty clear they have a set-in-stone happily ever after, for as much as even I don’t believe in them. But what’s interesting about this is that Luca is the abandoner. He left his family back in the US. He is happy without them, but he is also not the person who stayed. And we know he was going to — he admits to having planned returning to the States after uni. But he didn’t, because he found love. Love he figured was worth (physically) leaving his family and life for.

Sound familiar? Takes a similar bent to a certain twin’s, doesn’t it.

So it’s those choices which force them to meet. Andrew’s delve into work and Luca’s “running away.” Luca is initially terrified of Andrew while Andrew just sees Luca as his new TA. Both completely fair POVs.

That works for like a week, then Andrew and Darling’s scandal breaks. (An affair which I will say only happened because of Andrew’s crippling loneliness. Andrew wouldn’t have broken his morals so deeply if it weren’t for that fact he literally had nobody else, so desperate for some form of love that he turned to a damn student.) Darling, in the heat of their argument, pins some blame on Luca, accusing Andrew of having a fling with Luca. It’s ludicrous, and I doubt even Darling actually believed that, but it strikes a nerve with Andrew.

Something similar happens with Luca and Babe later. While it’s not as severe an accusation, Babe is jealous of the blooming friendship between our dear Marston and Pearce. Luca assures them that there is nothing going on because literally nothing is, except for the fact that both of their listeners have only observed these two lacking in something, which can be described in a lump sum as friendship.

It’s a rare moment of almost… misunderstanding? For the listeners? Luca and Andrew are both made better by their listeners. ‘Better’ in little, esoteric ways — parallel to the nature of love itself, because is love if not for the little things? — but better nonetheless. So I think to see that little spark of fulfillment in your partner fueled by another person was a moment of yes, misunderstanding.

Because they do begin to fulfill eachother.

Luca calls Andrew more of a ‘big brother’ than anything else. Andrew is the family Luca left behind. And Luca is Andrew’s friend, a role once taken by the people who left him, and it is not a job that can be taken up by a partner — romantic and platonic love are not the same, after all.

This all comes to a head when Andrew and Luca have their talk. The details are a little obscure, but from what I’ve picked up, it seems they spoke about engagement. Luca’s proposal to Babe, specifically.

This is the climax of two things: first, the building of a friendship between two people who spent their lives pretty devoid of that and two, their crossroads. Luca wants to have his family again, only this time, with the person he loves more than anything. Andrew is going steady with Darling and is in the position to have a heart-to-heart with someone who is coming to him as a friend, as a brother, even if Luca never fully expressed that to Andrew.

And it works out. Even if hidden in the vibrant hues of an Icarian crash and burn from Andrew (him losing his job), there are still strokes of bliss. Babe says yes. Luca and Andrew’s friendship grows. Darling and Andrew living peacefully, above all else, together.

Luca and Andrew aren’t even amazing friends, but still, they’re parallels and foils all at once.

They are eachothers closure and openings to a new life. They are brief moments, those passing friends who you see only so often, but still the shifting in a current. Because you don’t need some big, romantic love affair to be changed — you don’t even need a really good friend, you just need a friend.

Somebody.

And I think that’s neat.

#sakuverse #zsakuva #scarlett’s ramblings #andrew marston #zsakuva andrew #zsakuva luca #luca pearce

64 notes · View notes

scintillyyy · 2 days

Text

actually it is interesting how dixon has tim discover his feelings for steph over the course of and in contrast to what was ultimately his failing relationship with ari & like. listen i'm not here ti cast judgment on either tim or steph here, but it was very much written by dixon as like. steph knowingly was very pushy about wanting to be in a relationship with tim even knowing he was actively in a relationship and fundamentally did not care about tim's girlfriend as a human being because steph saw tim being in a relationship already as basically minor inconvience because she wanted tim & tim clearly seemed to want her so he should just be with her instead. and like tim's hands clearly aren't entirely clean here either, because he did kind of ultimately just going with the flow and letting things happen. (but!! i am on the side of both of them are messy teens in their first relationships & neither deserves lifelong castigation for 14-15 year old messiness, let's be clear). but the circumstances around this messiness even being able to happen is because ariana is fundamentally unable to truly know what's going on as she's never privy to the secret. she had no way of knowing what tim is doing or who he's meeting--sure she gets jealous when she sees tim notice steph, but she never knows that there's another girl in tim's life exists & can't know. meanwhile the whole time steph is flirting with tim she is well aware that ariana, or "tim's girlfriend" exists. tim & steph exist because at the time of his relationship with ari, tim was allowed to actively and consistently interact with another girl while actively in a relationship with another one & steph was well aware and a participant in that.

and that's kind of by design--dixon, i do think dixon fairly early on decided that he was more interested in tim&steph over tim&ari, but i do think it's important to note that when dixon created ari he's on the record of conceiving of her as a lois lane type romance interest for tim, she was clearly originally intended to have long term sticking power for him. but then--*readers* didn't vibe with her. there's letters in old issues basically asking--"hey, is steph going to come back, hey is steph going to date tim, hey love steph when are they getting together". so while dixon got fully on board with tim & steph i think it's safe to say he was also. probably very cognizant of readers deciding they like a different love interest better.

so there's an interesting pivot in dixon once tim & steph are firmly on the "getting together" train and it's that tim is not allowed to exist of breathe near other female characters without being chaperoned by steph or it involving steph somehow in deference to steph's jealousy issues. with steph's entrance into tim's life, tim is moved away from the mixed more sex friend group (that existed with callie & ariana) of gotham heights high to 1) homeschooling in keystone 2) all male boarding school brentwood. the only female friendship he gains is star, and that's used in a story for steph to misunderstand and start stalking star and her brother in an attempt to find tim & catch him in the act. tim is no longer allowed to team up with girls his age or a little older without stephanie there. he's not even allowed to be concerned about random adult woman dana (his stepmom) without steph breathing down his neck despite the fact that once they start dating tim is doggedly pretty loyal to steph as far as girls were, far more than he ever was with ariana. & like. in universe this is an interesting character beat for steph considering the start of their relationship being that steph pushed tim while he was in a relationship & is paranoid of all other women, that they'll act like she did. but from an out of universe perspective you can tell dixon was absolutely shutting down any other relationship possibility for tim other than steph. he knew the pain of creating a love interest that got subsumed in interest by another and was under no circumstances going to let anyone else in that that could become a threat to his girl. hence, every time he teams up with a girl after steph has to be there, monitoring & chaperoning. which is very interesting. considering their beginnings and steph's own willingness to hang out with a guy known to be taken without his girlfriend there & her eventual disallowment of tim to do anything with girls who aren't her.

#sorry the tim & cass post got some mkre traction and i'm thinking again #how once dixon had tim get together with steph that was a major shift of. tim's not allowed to be friends with girls

59 notes · View notes

lavender-phoenix-flames · 2 days

Text

(Idk why I can't reblog that post directly so I am writing it here) @jianglemy

First of all, do you know how crazy and bigoted you sound calling a yuan/shizhui, a child, an "ugly wen"?? This sentence says all I need to know about you. Jiang cheng's family and sect was slaughtered by wens yes BUT his life was infact saved by a wen, the zidian he wears on his finger was brought back to him by a wen, the reason he has a golden core is cuz of a wen and the reason he could possibly give his parents a proper funeral is also because of a wen, If all wens are evil how come jc is still alive and well?? Yet he chooses to slaughter the said prople who saved him.

Also lsz's family got nothing to do with the slaughter of the jiangs do you read the book with your eyes closed??

Secondly, if you read with your eyes open he strikes jin ling to the ground several time, jl saying his uncle didn't hit him was disproved by canon itself.

If you need more then refer to this post by @chai-chahiye-yr

#canon jiang cheng #canon jc #jc stans clowning as always #mdzs #tw discourse #mo dao zu shi #mxtx #mo xiang tong xiu #wen ning #wen remnants #wen qing #lan shizui #a yuan

45 notes · View notes

girlwtdragontattoo · 3 days

Note

Yeah uhh can you make yandere fae and yn female nsfw??

hiii! :) i wasn't too sure what you meant by "fae", but i just made him an elf with wings haha.

Warning: 18+, nsfw, non-con, touching in sleep, obsessive behavior

-----

You were wandering through the forest as a sunset slowly formed. The orange rays enveloped the trees with a sense of wonder, the small specks of dust and flower seeds snowing in the light.

You loved coming here at this time of day, sometimes you got lucky and met fascinating creatures. More often than you’d like to admit, you were unlucky and had to run like a maniac back home to avoid the clutching fangs of an angry predator.

Not knowing what today’s excursion would bring, you trailed through your usual route, foraging some mushrooms and fruits you found along the way. It was fun to experiment with new ingredients you discovered here. Although you had regretted finding that green looking one a while back. It had made you convulse and hallucinate all night long.

Sliding down by the roots of the big tree you visited often, you examined your findings. What a lucky harvest this was: so many precious berries and meaty shrooms. You couldn’t wait to test them out. Listening to the gentle whistle of the wind through the large trees, you felt your body yearn for a brief respite. You had been hiking for hours today and with more vigor than your previous visits. You had barely slept the night before, so your body was exhausted. A short nap would help you get back home safely. Surely this area was safe enough.

Burying yourself in your coat and leaning back against the mossy trunk, you felt yourself slowly drift away into the kind embrace of sleep. The air in this forest was odd, as if weaved with sprites of calm or surrounding by a strange bubble that made everything feel so breezy. The soft wind bristled across your face, providing the comfort of coldness.

You didn’t know it, but you were always followed when you entered the woods. Not just by predators or curious little animals, but by something you only believed existed in old tales. He had been watching you behind a nearby tree, blushing excessively when you bent over to pick up any items you were collecting.

He had discovered you a while back, while he was attending to a group of withered trees that cried for attention. His ears had picked up on something stumbling. As he turned, he saw you had plopped over a large root, the interior of your little basket had spilled on the ground and you were carefully picking your findings back up. His keen fae eyes could see quite a long way, but even from the distance he was completely enamored with you. He had tolerated humans walking around this forest for eons: he loved scaring them when they were being disrespectful. But you…the way your face lit up when you found something that sparked your interest. You were the first visitor to make his nascent wings jitter.

You were asleep. This hadn’t happened before. He was normally so distraught when he saw you make your way home, not being able to follow you further. He needed to stay in his realm and couldn’t enter yours.

He felt his body move closer towards you. He needed to look at you up close, a chance he may never get again. The fae had never interacted with a human before, unless it was to taunt them out of his home. Your bodies were much different from his kinds, it was truly a marvel to him.

Your face was tilted slightly to the side, breathing deeply in and out, your arms hanging loosely in your lap. He crouched down and stared at you, examining your features. How glorious your face was, so different from his. The glittering lips seemed to call him forward. He hadn’t seen a human like you before. Normally, they disgusted him. You made him feel dizzy.

With a shaky hand, he stretched his arm towards you, gently brushing your cheek. Your skin was so soft and chilled due to the evening air. You were completely still, the rest direly needed, except the gently lifting of your chest as you breathed in and out. His eyes wandered down to your neck, rippling down to your slow-moving breasts that created little mountains in your coat.

Without thinking, the hand on your cheek drifted down your neck and glided over the peaks on your chest. Noticing you didn’t seem to feel his touch in your slumber, he dared to squeeze slightly. His body felt hot, how soft they were. His other hand joined and cupped your other breast, pushing them together. He clasped them a bit harder, letting out involuntary raspy moans at how amazing this felt. He wanted to see what they felt like without your garment, but he was too afraid you’d wake and run if he attempted to remove it. You let out a soft, breathy, moan at his touch, but remained still. His body was shaking, wanting to relieve himself all over you.

Still squishing your breasts intensely in his hands, he rocked himself forward. His face was now so close to yours and he inhaled your unique scent. You smelled so amazing; it made him want to taste you. He felt your calm breath on his ethereal skin, it made his wings flutter in anticipation. Did you have body parts for pleasure? Was that something he could even do with you?

He was so close; his breath was intermingling with yours. One more short movement and he would taste you.

His lips grazed yours. He felt his lower half explode with excitement.

Your eyes were fluttering and panic joined in with his pleasure. You stirred. Your eyes barely opened and you saw a divine visage before you, bright and starry eyes peering into yours. Before you could fully open them and decide if this was still a dream or reality, the fae had fled. Flying frantically through the dense foliage, he settled on a high branch obscured by the fading light and dark branches, still able to see you from afar. Did you see him? Did he scare you?

You rubbed your eyes and looked around you. There was no sign of anyone. You let out a big yawn and decided that you probably hadn’t finished dreaming yet, seeing that beautiful face before you.

Standing up and brushing the dirt off your backside, you picked up your basket and satchel to make your way home.

The fae’s breath halted seeing you leave. He wanted you to stay. He had been so close to tasting you, he would never get that chance again.

He looked around frantically. What could he do to prevent you from leaving?

You were walking swiftly. The sun was almost completely gone and you didn’t want to be in the woods at night. Folk warned that the faeries would get you, perhaps an old wives’ tale, but you never knew. Plus, there were predators here anyway.

Suddenly, you heard a crash and a whimper. Turning to the noise, you thought you saw large, translucent wings, flapping weakly behind a bush. The sounds seemed pitiful. Hurt.

You approached carefully and pushed the branches aside.

Before you, lay a creature you had only seen illustrated in fantasy novels.

He looked up at you, unable to stop his face from blushing again, pretending to have hurt himself from a fall.

This plan had to work.

#yandere x reader #yandere fae #male yandere x reader #fae x reader #yandere fae x reader #fae smut

44 notes · View notes

thevirginwitch · 3 days

Text

DON'T CALL ME MABON

WHY MABON IS AN INAPPROPRIATE NAME FOR THE AUTUMN EQUINOX

by Anna Franklin

The name ‘Mabon’ as a term for the neopagan festival of the autumn equinox (along with the Saxon term ‘Litha’ for the summer solstice) was introduced in 1973 by the American witch and writer Aiden Kelly (b. 1940). His blog for 21st September 2012 explains:

“Back in 1973, I was putting together a “Pagan-Craft” calendar—the first of its kind, as far as I know—listing the holidays, astrological aspects, and other stuff of interest to Pagans. It offended my aesthetic sensibilities that there seemed to be no Pagan names for the summer solstice or the fall equinox equivalent to Ostara or Beltane—so I decided to supply them… I began wondering if there had been a myth similar to that of Kore in a Celtic culture. There was nothing very similar in the Gaelic literature, but there was in the Welsh, in the Mabinogion collection, the story of Mabon ap Modron (which translates as “Son of the Mother,” just as Kore simply meant “girl”), whom Gwydion rescues from the underworld, much as Theseus rescued Helen. That’s why I picked “Mabon” as a name for the holiday…” bd

Curiously, his own tradition, the New Reformed Orthodox Order of the Golden Dawn, did not follow him in this and instead called the autumn equinox ‘Rites of Eleusis’. However, the term took off and was used in many American books, and by extension, the readers of those books in the UK and elsewhere.

The association of the god Mabon with the festival is certainly not an ancient or traditional despite the claims in various books and websites where you might read ‘the Celts celebrated the god Mabon on this date’.

In order to see why the name of Mabon for the autumn equinox is an inappropriate one we need to examine the tales of Mabon.

The Celtic God Maponius

There is certainly a Celtic god whose title was Latinized as Maponus, which is not an actual name but means something like ‘divine son’. He is known from a number of inscriptions in northern Britain and Gaul in which he is addressed as ‘Apollo Maponus’ identifying him with the Graeco-Roman sun-god Apollo. Like Apollo, all the evidence suggests that he was a god of the sun, music and hunting – significantly, he was not a god of the harvest or of the corn.

It is not known whether he was widely worshipped before the coming of the Romans, but with them his cult spread along Hadrian’s Wall amongst the Roman soldiers stationed there. Several stone heads found at the Wall are identified as representing Maponus.

He was also known in Gaul where he was invoked with a Latin inscription at Bourbonne-les-Bains, and on a lead cursing tablet discovered at Chamalières, Puy-de-Dôme where he is invoked along with Lugus (Lugh) to quicken underworld spirits to right a wrong.

It is possible that there are some place names associated with him, such as Ruabon in Denbighshire, which may or may not be a corruption of Rhiw Fabon, meaning ‘Hillside of Mabon’. be During the seventh century an unknown monk at the Monastery at Ravenna in Italy compiled what came to be called The Ravenna Cosmography, which was a list of all the towns and road-stations throughout the Roman Empire. It lists a Locus Maponi (‘place of Maponus’) which has been tentatively identified with the Lochmaben stone site.

It is possible that Mabon’s Irish equivalent is the god Aengus, also known as the Mac Óg (‘young son’).

Literary Sources

A character called Mabon is found as a minor character in the Mabinogion, a collection of eleven – sometimes twelve – Welsh prose tales from the Middle Ages. He is called Mabon ap Modron, meaning ‘son of the mother’, which has led to speculation that his mother Modron (‘mother’) may be cognate with the Gaulish mother goddess Matrona. There are no inscriptions dedicated to her from ancient times, so this cannot be verified. Whether or not the Mabinogion tale of the hero Mabon stems from a thousand year old story of the god Maponus is uncertain, but since the stories contain the names of other known Celtic gods (transliterated into heroes) it is certainly possible.

The Mabinogion is a collection of medieval Welsh stories which would have been recorded by Christian monks. They don’t seem to have been very widely known until they were translated into English in 1849 by Lady Charlotte Guest, who invented the title Mabinogion since each of the four branches ends with the words “so ends this Branch of the Mabinogi”. In Welsh, mab means ‘son’ or ‘boy’ or ‘youth’, so she concluded that mabinogi meant ‘a story for children’ and (erroneously) that mabinogion was its plural. Another possibility is that it comes from the proposed Welsh mabinog meaning something like ‘bardic student’.

The stories now included in the Mabinogion are found in two manuscripts, the older White Book of Rhydderch (c.1300–1325) and the later Red Book of Hergest (c.1375–1425) and Lady Charlotte Guest used only the latter as her source, though later translations have drawn on both books.

The first four tales, called The Four Branches of the Mabinogi, are divided into Pwyll, Branwen, Manawydan and Math and each of these includes the character Pryderi. The Mabinogion scholar W.G.Gruffydd suggested that the four branches of the collection represent the birth, exploits, imprisonment and death of Pryderi.

Mabon is mentioned in the Mabinogion story of The Dream of Rhonabwy in which he is described as one of the King’s chief advisors and fights alongside him at the Battle of Badon. His biggest role comes in the story of Culhwch and Olwen (originally from White Book of Rhydderch). In it is the only known reference to Olwen, and Mabon is still a very minor character in the story. One task of the heroes is to search for Mabon ap Modron, who was imprisoned in a watery Gloucester dungeon. Arthur’s cousin Mabon had been taken from his mother Modron when he was only three nights old, and no one knew whether he was alive or dead. After asking the oldest animals, they were finally directed to the oldest creature of all: the great Salmon of Llyn Llyw. The salmon recalled hearing of Mabon, and told them that as he swam daily by the wall of Caer Loyw, he heard a constant lamentation. The salmon took Cei and Gwrhyr upon his back to the castle, and they heard Mabon’s cries bewailing his fate. Mabon could not be ransomed, so seeing that force was the only answer, the knights fetched Arthur and his war band to attack the castle. Riding on the salmon’s back, Cai broke through the wall and collected Mabon, both fleeing on the back of the salmon.

Let us suppose for a moment that the god Maponus and the literary hero Mabon are one and the same. We must remember that all the evidence points to Maponus being the young sun god, his youth meaning that he would represent the morning sun or the sun newly reborn after the winter solstice. His theft from his mother after three days would make sense in this light – the three days being the three days the sun stands still at the winter solstice. The imprisonment of the young god underground equates to the sun in the underworld before he is ‘released’ to begin his reign as the new sun. In Culhwch and Olwen, Mabon is said to be imprisoned inside a tower in Gloucester, from which he is freed by Cei and Bedwyr. The ‘missing sun’ or ‘imprisoned sun’ is a premise found in the solar myths of many cultures to explain the night or the shorter days of winter, especially those around the three days of the winter solstice. Such tales often include themes of captivity or the theft of the sun (i.e. the god or object that represents it) and its rescue by a band of heroes, such as Jason and the Argonauts rescuing the Golden Fleece (the sun) from the dragon or the Lithuanian sun goddess Saule, was held in a tower by powerful king, rescued by the zodiac using a giant sledgehammer, or the Japanese sun goddess Amaterasu hiding in a cave.

An earlier source that mentions Mabon is the tenth century poem Pa Gur, in which Arthur recounts the great deeds of his knights in order to gain entrance to a fortress guarded by Glewlwyd Gafaelfawr. In this, Arthur describes Mabon fab Madron as one of his men and says that Mabon is a servant of Uther Pendragon. A second Mabon is mentioned, Mabon fab Mellt (‘Mabon Son of Lightning’) and this is interesting, since the sky/storm god is often the father of the sun god in myth, as Zeus is the father of Apollo.

Mabon defeats the monstrous boar, and in myth the boar is often a symbol of winter and the underworld, just as the sun after the winter solstice defeats winter. Mabon then is the divine sun-child born at the winter solstice and this is his festival – he is not the aged god of the harvest or the seed in the ground as Kore is in Greek myth. As Sorita d’Este says:

“Honour Mabon as a Wizard, a Merlin type figure, as the oldest of men and beasts, honour him as the Son of the Mother, and a hero – don’t take that away from him by ignorantly using his name as if it is a different word for Autumn Equinox. If you really believe that the Old Gods of these lands still live, that they should be honoured and respected, then do that. Don’t join the generations who tried to belittle the Gods in an effort to diminish their power.”[1]

#thevirginwitch #witchcraft #witch #witchblr #witchy #witches of tumblr #pagan #baby witch #beginner witch #wheel of the year #mabon #fall equinox #autumnal equinox #autumn equinox

52 notes · View notes

infiniteko · 2 days

Text

The Infinite Radiant Energy spontaneously and automatically moves so fast that even the concept of "speed" does not apply.

by Being_is_IT / Twitter

Question: It seems that I have experienced several interesting experiences recently. When I have been noticing, unexpected people suddenly appear in an empty house. I will first notice the appearance of *their* experience, and then noticed that my body seemed to be frightened and was vibrating automatically, I feel that the Mind's explanation seems to be lagging behind the real event, and the physical effects are also lagging behind. I don't know why I am scared. It seems that the Mind always try to make interpretation for whatever that's happening so fast, and the the Mind seems to be incomprehensible for what's going on.

Answer: Yes, your own Infinite Radiant Energy is unimaginably fast. The Mind's interpretation is completely incapable of capturing such crazy speed. The Mind seems to be playing a slow downed movie while the actual energy flows through faster than speed of light, actually faster than that can be described using the concept of "speed".

Therefore, what the rational Mind sees is not the actual situation, but abstract assumptions. The miracle is right now, but the Mind cannot see it. The emergence of energetic patterns (or forms) and the emergence of physical reactions are the same pulsation of Infinite Radiant Energy itself, there is no such thing as lagging behind. It only seems like that the Mind's interpretation is lagging behind. The "lagging behind" is a seeming projected by the Mind, not indicting an actual lagging behind.

The Mind seems to impose a chain of causality that make events appear as if they occur continuously in time and in discrete order. Actually, all patterns, forms, or events are pulsation of Infinite Radiant Energy. They appear instantaneously without any continuity and without causality and without time. Even the idea of naming pattern as "pattern" and naming event as "event" is a conclusion projected by the Mind. What appears like "events" or "patterns" are not actually events or patterns. What appears as cause and effect is not actually cause and effect. What appears as time is not actually time.

They are only seemed like that to the perspective of the Mind. What's going on? No way to describe! For example, it just seems like "you made a mistake and didn't pay attention and let the car hit the curb..." This is the interpretation of the Mind. Actually, the entire energetic pattern does not have an "I" that is"paying attention" or "not paying attention", nor is it actually a case of "I am driving", nor is it actually a case of "the car hit something". Infinite Radiant Energy moves at an unimaginable speed.

The speed is spontaneous and automatic, so fast that it is impossible for the Mind to make interpretation. However, the Mind's interpretation seems to be happening anyway, and the conclusions of "lagging behind" seem to be reached by the Mind's interpretation. So, as far as the Mind can see, there seems to be lagging behind. Therefore, although it seems that a "you" have the responsibility for whatever is happening, in fact there is no such thing as "you" and no such thing as "your responsibility". What seems accidental is actually inevitable.

What may seem like "your mistake" is actually Infinite Radiant Energy pulsating spontaneously and automatically, without cause or responsibility. "mistakes", "corrections of mistakes", and "successes" are all just appearances or seeming. There is no right or wrong in the spontaneous and automatic pulsation of Infinite Radiant Energy. Whatever seems like causal, is actually inevitable. It's very good that you are able to notice that the Mind is incapable of capturing the actual movement of Infinite Radiant Energy.

The more you discover the Mind's incapability, the less you take the interpretation of the Mind seriously, the more you let go of the conclusions reached by the Mind. Infinite Radiant Energy moves so fast that even the concept of "speed" does not apply, which means that "time" is an illusion and "continuity" is also an illusion. "Continuation" is just another expression for the same illusion as "time". When you think of events in terms of "speed" or "fast" or "slow", it's not exaggerating to say that you have already taken the illusion of "time" seriously.

Although it seems that I am talking about "speed", actually, I am pointing out that "time" and "continuation" are illusory assumptions assumed by the Mind only, I am just using a different way to point to the same SELF. More profoundly, don't think of cause-and-effect as a different property from that of time. Causal relationship is the same illusion as time! The Mind seems to cook up many different concepts to try to interpret what's going on. But it reflects the same illusion projected by the Mind. You don't need to analyze the speed.

You don't need to train yourself to be fast. No, not at all. Because there is no such thing as "speed" and "fast and slow". You can directly know your SELF without indulging in any of these concepts. Although it seems like everything in your dream moving slowly, does it take any "time" for the entire dream plot to pop? No, not at all. Although it seems like everything in your waking experience moving slowly, does it take any "time" for the entire waking experience to appear? No, not at all.

#awareness #consciousness #nothingness #atman #nonduality #nondualism #advaita vedanta #brahman #beingness #advaitavedanta #no concept #nothing #non dual #non dualism #non duality #not two

37 notes · View notes

moonlitstoriess · 13 hours

Text

The Hidden Legacy- A Ruhn Danaan x Rhysands sister series

Chapter 5: Fate’s Silent Whisper

Summary: Rhysand’s sister, Seraphis, long thought dead, was taken by the Asteri/Valgs, her memories erased and turned into a ruthless killer loyal to their cause. After Bryce kills the Asteri, Seraphis seeks vengeance on her and everyone else involved. As she hunts them down, Rhysand and the Inner Circle discover the shocking truth: she’s alive, and now their enemy.

See masterlist

Catalyst: a person or thing that precipates an event or change

"You know where to find me"

The stranger's words from Seraphis' first day in Lunathion were ringing inside her head. She had dismissed them before, but now, she saw the opportunity in their offer. If they could provide her with the means to accelerate her plans, then perhaps it was time to make use of them.

Seraphis clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. The vision wasn’t a warning; it was a promise. Her promise to the Asteri, to herself. Lunathion would fall, Bryce Quinlan would pay, and everyone who had dared defy the Asteri would be swept away like dust in a storm.

But she needed to be smart about this. Calculated. Charging in blindly would only lead to failure, and failure wasn’t an option. She needed information, leverage, anything that would give her an edge.

With a cold, resolute breath, she grabbed her cloak and left the motel, the cool night air biting against her skin. The streets were nearly empty, save for a few lingering souls who paid her no mind. Her steps were quick, purposeful, as she retraced her path back to the alley where she had encountered the stranger.

This time, there was no hesitation as she stepped into the shadows. “Show yourself,” she called softly, her voice cutting through the silence.

For a moment, there was nothing. Then, like before, the figure emerged from the darkness, their movements smooth and unhurried. “Seraphis,” they greeted, their tone calm and composed. “I had a feeling you’d be back.”

“I don’t have time for pleasantries,” Seraphis snapped, her gaze cold. “You said you could help me. Prove it.”

The figure tilted their head, as if amused by her bluntness. “Still so determined, I see. Very well.” They took a step closer, their voice lowering conspiratorially. “I know what you want, Seraphis. You want to see Lunathion burn. You want Bryce Quinlan and all her allies destroyed. But it won’t be easy. They have defenses, secrets—things that even you don’t know.”

Seraphis’s jaw tightened. “Then tell me. Give me something I can use.”

The figure’s eyes gleamed beneath their hood. “The wolf, Danika Fendyr. She died hiding something. A secret that could tear Lunathion apart from the inside out.”

Seraphis’s interest piqued despite herself. She knew of Danika’s death, of course, but she hadn’t cared to delve into the details. The wolf was nothing to her—just another casualty. But if there was more to it, if it could serve her purposes…

“What secret?” she demanded, her voice a low growl.

The figure stepped closer still, their gaze piercing. “Danika was investigating something. Something big. Something that could have changed everything. But she died before she could reveal it. And Bryce… Bryce knows what it is.”

Seraphis’s heart beat faster, not with fear but with the thrill of opportunity. “And you know what it is?”

The figure’s lips curved into a faint smile. “I know enough to get you started. I can show you where to look, what to dig into. With the right pressure, the right leverage, you could unravel everything Bryce is trying to protect. You could turn her own city against her.”

Seraphis’s eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering in their depths. “And why would you help me?”

The figure’s smile widened, a dangerous glint in their eye. “Let’s just say I have my own reasons for wanting to see Lunathion fall. We may have different motives, but our goals align. I have information, and you have power. Together, we can bring this city to its knees.”

Seraphis studied them, her mind racing. She didn’t trust this stranger, but they knew things. Things she needed. If she could use them, manipulate them, then perhaps she could turn this to her advantage.

“All right,” she said finally, her voice firm. “Show me.”

The figure nodded, satisfaction gleaming in their eyes. “Follow me, then. There’s much to discuss, and not much time. If you want to destroy Lunathion, Seraphis, you’ll need to be ready for what comes next.”

She followed them, her heart steady, her resolve unshaken. She didn’t care about the consequences, about the cost. She had one goal, and nothing would stand in her way. Lunathion would fall, and she would be the one to bring it down.

Seraphis followed the cloaked figure through the labyrinth of darkened alleys, her steps silent as death itself. The air crackled with tension, each step taking them deeper into the shadowy depths of Lunathion. She was done playing games. Whoever this person was, they were about to find out just how lethal she could be.

The figure finally stopped at the entrance of a decrepit building, a place forgotten by the city above. They turned, slowly, and pushed back their hood, revealing a striking woman with raven-black hair and piercing green eyes that seemed to see right through her. There was a knowing, almost mocking smile on her lips.

Seraphis’s grip tightened on her blade, her instincts screaming at her to strike first. But she held back, if only barely. “Enough of this nonsense. Who are you?”

The woman’s smile widened, her voice low and smooth. “Names are such trivial things, don’t you think? But if you must call me something, let it be Miraya”

Seraphis narrowed her eyes. Miraya. It meant nothing to her, but the way this woman moved, the confidence in her stance—it set Seraphis on edge. She didn’t like not knowing who or what she was dealing with.

“You’re wasting my time,” Seraphis growled, her patience fraying. “I’m not here for games.”

“Neither am I.” Miraya’s voice was soft, but there was steel beneath it. She reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out a small, shimmering crystal. It caught the faint light, casting eerie patterns across the walls. “I’m here because I can give you what you want.”

Seraphis took a step closer, her gaze locked on the crystal. There was something… off about it. A sense of immense power coiled within, dark and potent. “And what, exactly, is that?”

“An edge,” Miraya said, her eyes gleaming. “Something that will make your mission not just possible, but inevitable.”

Seraphis’s heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her expression neutral. “And what’s in it for you?”

Miraya tilted her head, studying her with an intensity that made Seraphis’s skin prickle. “Let’s just say I have my own reasons for wanting to see Lunathion in flames. Bryce Quinlan and her little band of heroes… they’ve upset the balance. It’s time for things to be set right.”

Seraphis clenched her jaw. It was tempting, so very tempting, but she didn’t trust easily. And she certainly didn’t trust strangers who appeared out of nowhere with promises of power. “Why should I believe anything you say?”

Miraya’s smile was pure ice. “You don’t have to believe me. But I know you, Seraphis. I know what you’ve been through, what you’ve lost. You think you can do this on your own, but you can’t. They’re too strong, too entrenched in this world. You need something more.”

She took another step forward, holding the crystal out. “This is a key. There’s a place beneath Lunathion, a vault hidden so deep even the Fae don’t know it exists. It holds something the Asteri left behind—a weapon capable of breaking even the strongest defenses. Find it, and you’ll have the power to bring this city to its knees.”

Seraphis stared at the crystal, her mind racing. A weapon left by the Asteri? It sounded too good to be true, and yet… There was a glimmer of truth in Miraya’s words. If such a thing existed, it could tip the scales in her favor.

She reached out, her fingers brushing against the crystal. A surge of energy jolted through her, dark and potent, whispering of untapped potential.

“Why would you give this to me?” Seraphis asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Miraya’s smile turned cold, almost predatory. “Because I want to see you succeed. I want to see them fall. And because I know you’re the only one who can do it.”

Seraphis hesitated, but only for a moment. Then she closed her hand around the crystal, its cold surface sending another shiver through her.

“You’ll find the entrance in the ruins beneath the old temple district,” Miraya said, stepping back. “Once you’re inside, you’ll know what to do.”

Seraphis didn’t respond. She turned on her heel, the crystal clutched tightly in her hand. She had a mission, and this—this could be the weapon she needed to see it through.

As she walked away, Miraya’s voice echoed softly behind her. “Remember, Seraphis… trust no one. Not even yourself.”

Seraphis didn’t look back. She had no intention of trusting anyone. All that mattered was the mission, the revenge that burned like fire in her veins.

And she would see it through to the bitter end.

Seraphis moved silently through the darkened alley, the sounds of the city muted around her. Every step was calculated, every glance over her shoulder deliberate. After her encounter with the cloaked woman, she’d doubled her precautions, her senses on high alert for any sign of pursuit.

But she had felt it—eyes on her. More than once.

She tightened her grip on the object she’d been given, its weight a solid reminder of the task she was here to complete. Failure wasn’t an option, not when the Asteri were depending on her. Not when revenge burned so fiercely in her veins.

She needed to get to the underground passage. It would take her to the place the woman had spoken of, to whatever weapon lay hidden beneath the city. She was almost there, just a few more turns through the labyrinth of alleys, and she—

Danika Fendyr.

The thought came unbidden, unwelcome. The woman had said Danika had been searching for the same information, that Bryce knew about it. But why? Why would Danika—a supposed hero, a loyal friend—have been looking for something like this? A weapon capable of untold destruction? Seraphis’s brow furrowed as she rounded another corner, her thoughts tangled.

Was Danika not as good as she’d appeared to be? Or had she been deceiving everyone, playing the role of the perfect friend while secretly hunting for power? The notion almost made her laugh. What did that little wolf think she could have done with a weapon like this?

And why hadn’t the Asteri told her about Danika’s involvement? She was their weapon, their prized creation. She was meant to know everything, to be one step ahead of everyone else. But this… this was a secret that had been kept from her, a piece of the puzzle she hadn’t even known was missing.

She gritted her teeth, her pace quickening. It burned, this not knowing. Danika’s shadow loomed over this mission, and it gnawed at her that a long-dead wolf—someone so inconsequential—had been privy to something that even she had been denied.

Had Rigelus kept this from her on purpose? But why? She had proven herself time and time again. Hadn’t she? Or had the Asteri doubted her all along?

She shook her head, trying to dispel the unsettling thoughts. It didn’t matter now. Danika was dead. Whatever she had known was irrelevant. Seraphis was here now, and she would succeed where that wolf had failed.

Another turn, deeper into the labyrinth of alleys. She could feel the undercurrent of magic beneath the city, the pulse of something powerful, something waiting. She was close now.

A flicker of movement caught her eye. She froze, every muscle coiled. But it was just a cat, slinking through the shadows. She exhaled slowly, forcing her heart to steady. This paranoia, this unease—it was unlike her. She was trained to be better than this, to remain calm no matter the situation.

A low murmur in her earpiece. Seraphis tensed, her hand flying to the device embedded in her cloak. She hadn’t activated it. How—

“Ithan, she’s moving towards the old market,” a voice crackled through, a woman’s voice. Bryce.

Seraphis’s eyes narrowed. They were tracking her. But how? She’d taken every precaution. Then she caught it—a faint shimmer on the hem of her cloak, almost imperceptible. Some kind of tracking spell. Clever.

Without hesitation, she ripped off the cloak and flung it aside, her lips curling into a sneer. Let them track that. She slipped into the deeper shadows, moving faster now. If they were here, it meant they knew who she was, or at least suspected. The cloak could buy her a few seconds, but she needed to—

A sharp sting in her side. She stumbled, her hand going to the small, feathered dart lodged in her ribs. Pain flared, followed by a wave of dizziness. Damn it. Her vision blurred as she yanked the dart free, but it was too late. Whatever they’d used was already coursing through her veins, muddying her thoughts, slowing her movements.

She had seconds, maybe less. A growl rumbled behind her, low and menacing. She turned just as a massive wolf lunged out of the darkness, knocking her to the ground. Her head slammed against the concrete, stars exploding in her vision.

“Got you,” a rough voice snarled above her. The wolf shifted, fur giving way to skin, claws retracting into hands as Ithan loomed over her, his eyes glowing golden in the dim light.

Seraphis thrashed, trying to summon her power, to freeze time and reverse the last few moments. But the sedative—whatever it was—scrambled her abilities. She could feel time slipping, slipping through her fingers like sand.

“Stay down,” Ithan growled, his hands pinning her wrists to the ground. His strength was immense, crushing. “You’re not going anywhere.”

She hissed, struggling beneath him, her vision fading in and out. “Get off me,” she spat, fury sparking even through the haze. “You don’t know what you’re dealing with.”

“Maybe not,” he said, his voice a low rumble, “but we’re about to find out.”

Footsteps echoed in the alley, and then Bryce was there, her face hard as she looked down at Seraphis. “Nice catch, Ithan,” she said, her eyes narrowing. “So, you’re the one causing all this trouble.”

Seraphis tried to speak, but her tongue felt thick, her body heavy. She could barely keep her eyes open as the sedative pulled her deeper under.

“We’ll take her to the facility,” Bryce said, her voice distant now, like she was speaking from underwater. “Get her somewhere secure before she wakes up.”

Ithan nodded, his grip unrelenting as he hauled Seraphis to her feet. She swayed, her legs buckling, but he held her steady, half-carrying, half-dragging her towards the end of the alley.

“Big mistake,” she mumbled, barely coherent. “All of you.”

Ithan glanced down at her, his jaw tight. “We’ll see.”

As darkness claimed her, Seraphis’s last thought was of the Asteri. Of the promise she’d made. She wouldn’t fail them. Not now. Not ever.

And Lunathion would burn before she was through.

Seraphis blinked awake, the light overhead harsh and unrelenting. Her head pounded with every throb of her heart, and her wrists and ankles felt like they were on fire from the tight restraints. The room was stark and uninviting, concrete walls and a single blinding light the only features. As her vision cleared, she saw Bryce, Hunt, and Ithan standing before her, their expressions a mix of expectation and authority.

“Well, isn’t this a charming little setup,” Seraphis muttered, her voice hoarse but laced with sarcasm. “Did you redecorate just for me?”

Bryce’s gaze was steely as she stepped forward. “We’re glad you’re awake. We need to have a little chat about your plans and your connections.”

Seraphis’s lips curled into a smirk. “Oh, do you? How flattering. But I’m not really in the mood for a friendly conversation.”

Hunt, standing slightly behind Bryce, watched her with a detached interest. His presence was imposing, but he remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Ithan, closer to Seraphis, frowned slightly. “We’ve been patient. It would be in your best interest to cooperate.”

Seraphis looked Ithan up and down, her expression one of condescension. “Patient? How sweet. You know, for someone with your… formidable stature, you don’t really exude a lot of menace.”

Bryce stepped in, clearly trying to maintain control. “We don’t have time for games. You’re here because we want to understand your intentions. The sooner you talk, the sooner this can all be over.”

Seraphis chuckled softly, the sound cold and devoid of warmth. “You’re adorable, really. Do you think a bit of intimidation is going to make me spill my secrets?”

Hunt finally spoke, his voice calm but carrying an edge. “This isn’t a game. You’re going to find out just how serious we are if you don’t start talking.”

Seraphis’s eyes glittered with defiance. “And what exactly are you planning to do? You think you can break me with a bit of pressure? I’ve faced far worse than this.”

Bryce’s jaw tightened, her patience wearing thin. “You’re making this difficult for yourself. We’re asking you to help us understand what you’re after. It’s a simple request.”

Seraphis raised an eyebrow. “Simple? If it were simple, you wouldn’t need to resort to this. I’m sure you have better things to do than question me.”

Ithan’s frustration was evident. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Either way, you’re going to give us something.”

Seraphis leaned back, her posture relaxed despite the restraints. “You know, I think you’ve mistaken me for someone who’s easily intimidated. I’m not your average prisoner.”

Hunt’s gaze remained steady. “Then prove it. Give us something to work with.”

Bryce’s voice was sharp, her tone leaving no room for misinterpretation. “We’re running out of time. Either you start cooperating, or things are going to get a lot more uncomfortable for you.”

Seraphis met Bryce’s gaze with an icy stare. “And if I don’t?”

Bryce didn’t flinch. “We’ll make sure you regret it.”

The silence that followed was heavy with unspoken tension. Seraphis remained impassive, her defiance unwavering despite the mounting pressure. The team exchanged looks of frustration but didn’t relent, waiting for her to crack.

As the minutes ticked by, Seraphis remained resolute, her mind already working on ways to use the situation to her advantage. Despite her predicament, she was far from beaten, and she was determined to make sure they knew it.

The silence was deafening. No one had left the room after Bryce’s declaration, the tension thick in the air. Seraphis sat in the center, her eyes cold and unyielding as she took in her surroundings. The room was fortified with magical wards, visible only as faint glows against the walls, meant to suppress any attempts at escape. The silence stretched, broken only by the occasional creak of the old wooden floor beneath them.

Bryce’s gaze was steady, her expression inscrutable. Ithan stood nearby, his arms crossed, a silent sentinel. Hunt, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watched the scene unfold with a mix of impatience and curiosity. Seraphis’s mind, though clouded by the effects of the drug, was still sharp. She assessed her situation with the analytical precision of a seasoned operative.

The quiet stretched on until Bryce finally broke it, her voice laced with frustration and a touch of impatience. “You know, this isn’t a game. We have ways of getting the information we need. I suggest you cooperate before we resort to more… persuasive methods.”

Seraphis’s lips curled into a sardonic smile. “And here I thought you were just going to ask nicely. I’m afraid I don’t respond well to threats. You’ll have to do better than that.”

Hunt pushed off from the wall, stepping forward with a menacing aura. “Bryce is right. You might think you’re untouchable, but we have ways to make you talk. This isn’t a place where you can hide from us.”

Bryce’s eyes narrowed, but she remained calm. “You might be confident now, but this place is heavily protected. You can’t just walk out. You’ll find that our methods are quite effective.”

Ithan shifted his weight, clearly uncomfortable with the prolonged standoff. He stepped forward, his voice carrying an edge of authority. “We don’t have all day. Tell us what we need to know, or things are going to get very uncomfortable for you.”

Seraphis’s gaze flickered between Bryce, Hunt, and Ithan, her resolve unwavering. “And if I refuse?”

Bryce leaned in slightly, her tone low but menacing. “Then we’ll make sure you regret it. We have the means to make you talk, whether you like it or not. You’re here, and we control the conditions. You might be able to resist for a while, but eventually, you’ll crack.”

Hunt stepped closer, his expression hardening. “We don’t want to hurt you, but we will if we have to. We’re here to get answers, and we’re not leaving until we do.”

The room fell silent again as Seraphis considered her options. The drug’s effects were dulling her senses, making it harder to think clearly, but her spirit remained unbroken.

As the minutes dragged on, Seraphis’s mind raced despite the drug-induced haze. She knew the facility’s magical barriers were formidable, but she had faced worse challenges before. The real threat was not the wards themselves but how they might use her vulnerabilities against her.

Bryce, Hunt, and Ethan exchanged a look, clearly contemplating their next move. The room’s oppressive silence seemed to grow heavier, but Seraphis refused to show any sign of weakness. She met their gazes with a steely determination, her resolve as sharp as ever.

Bryce finally spoke, her voice cutting through the silence. “We’ll leave you to think it over. When you’re ready to talk, we’ll be here. Until then, enjoy your stay.”

With that, Bryce, Hunt, and Ithan turned and walked out, the door closing behind them with a finality that echoed through the room. Seraphis was left alone, the silence now tinged with the faint hum of the magical wards.

As she sat in the dimly lit room, her mind continued to work despite the effects of the drug. She would find a way out, she vowed to herself. No matter how intricate the wards or how intense the interrogation, she would not let them break her spirit. She was determined to escape and continue her quest for revenge, no matter what it took.

******

Ruhn leaned against the wall of the darkened room, his gaze fixed on the blinking lights of the city outside. Flynn and Declan sat at the table, their expressions tense and thoughtful. The weight of recent events hung heavily between them, unspoken questions swirling in the air.

“She’s dangerous,” Flynn muttered, breaking the silence. “More than we realized.”

Ruhn’s jaw tightened. He knew it. They all did. But it was more than just danger that bothered him. He couldn’t shake the strange, inexplicable pull he felt when he thought about Seraphis. Something about her nagged at him, as if he should know who she was—what she was.

“I can’t get her out of my head,” Declan said quietly, his gaze distant. “It’s like she’s… I don’t know, like there’s something more we’re not seeing.”

“There is,” Ruhn replied, his voice tense. “And I don’t think she’s going to give it up easily.”

Flynn nodded slowly. “Bryce and Hunt are taking a big risk keeping her here.”

“I know,” Ruhn said, his voice clipped. He turned away, trying to shake the uneasy feeling settling in his gut. Something about this whole situation felt wrong, off-balance, like they were missing a crucial piece of the puzzle.

His phone buzzed, and he snatched it up, his heart skipping a beat when he saw Bryce’s name flash across the screen. He answered immediately.

“Bryce? What’s going on?”

“Ruhn, you need to get here now,” Bryce’s voice was strained, tight with urgency. “Something’s happening.”

His stomach dropped. “What do you mean? Is she—”

“Just get here, Ruhn.I don’t think we have much time.”

The line went dead, and Ruhn stared at the phone for a heartbeat, his mind racing. Then he turned to Flynn and Declan, his expression grim.

“Something’s up. Bryce needs us. Now.”

They didn’t waste time asking questions. Flynn and Declan were on their feet in an instant, following Ruhn as he strode out of the room, his thoughts a chaotic tangle of fear and determination.

What the hell are we dealing with?

They reached the building in record time, the air around them charged with tension. Bryce met them at the entrance, her expression a mix of relief and anxiety.

“She’s…changed,” Bryce said, her voice low. “I don’t know how to explain it, but something’s different.”

Ruhn frowned. “Different how?”

“I don’t know,” Bryce said, frustration evident in her tone. “But we need to be careful. She’s not just some prisoner. She’s…something else.”

They moved quickly, following Bryce down the hallway. The walls seemed to close in around them as if the building itself sensed the storm brewing within. Ruhn’s heart was pounding, a cold sweat breaking out on his skin. The sense of impending danger was almost suffocating.

When they reached the door of the interrogation room, Ruhn hesitated for a split second, his hand on the doorknob. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, then pushed it open.

And there she was.

The harsh lights above cast a stark glow over her, illuminating the delicate, angular lines of her face. Even under the circumstances, with chains binding her and an air of danger coiling around her like a living thing, this female was…breathtaking.

Ruhn’s heart stuttered, his gaze drinking her in despite himself. She was more striking than he remembered—no, not just striking. She was beautiful in a way that felt almost unreal, like a creature crafted from shadows and starlight. The soft illumination seemed to highlight every sharp, perfect angle of her face, the cold gleam in her eyes, the curve of her lips that spoke of secrets and danger.

She turned her head slightly, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that sent a jolt through him. For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, caught in the pull of that gaze. There was something there—something more than just the hostility, more than the cold indifference she’d shown before. It was as if she saw right through him, as if she could peel back the layers of his mind and lay them bare.

His breath hitched, and he had to force himself to look away, to break the spell she seemed to weave so effortlessly. But the image of her stayed with him, burned into his mind. He had faced beautiful women before, had faced beings of power and danger, but there was something about her that felt different, something that stirred a primal, almost visceral reaction deep within him.

It wasn’t attraction—alright, maybe it was but he would never admit it. But it was also something darker, more complicated. A fascination he couldn’t shake, a curiosity that bordered on obsession. Who was she, really? What had shaped her into this cold, lethal creature who now sat before them, her beauty a mask that barely concealed the deadly edge beneath?

His heart pounded in his ears as he took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. She watched him with that same unflinching stare, her lips curving into a slow, mocking smile that made something twist painfully in his chest.

“Back for more?” she drawled, her voice dripping with disdain. “Or are you finally ready to admit you’re out of your depth?”

The spell was broken, the cold, biting sarcasm snapping him out of whatever strange hold she had over him. He forced himself to meet her gaze head-on, to remember why they were here, what was at stake.

“We’re not playing games. Tell us what you’re after.”

Her smile widened, a flash of teeth that was more feral than amused. “You really think you can make me talk?”

Bryce stepped forward, her expression hard. “You’re not getting out of here. This place is sealed with wards and magic. It’s in the middle of nowhere. There’s no escape.”

Her eyes gleamed, something dangerously close to amusement dancing in their depths. “You think a few wards and some isolation are going to hold me?”

The silence that followed was thick, charged with tension. Ruhn’s heart was still racing, his mind a tangled mess of emotions and questions he couldn’t begin to unravel. He knew he should hate her, should see her as the threat she was—but instead, all he could think about was the way her eyes had looked, the way her voice had sounded, the way she seemed to twist everything inside him into knots.

He forced himself to speak, to keep his voice steady despite the turmoil churning within. “We’ll see about that.”

Seraphis’s smile didn’t falter. If anything, it grew sharper, more knowing. “Oh, I’m sure we will.”

The words hung between them, a challenge and a promise all at once. And Ruhn knew, in that moment, that whatever happened next, nothing would ever be the same.

The silence in the room thickened, stretching like a taut wire between the captors and their prisoner. Bryce exhaled sharply, her frustration palpable. “This is getting us nowhere,” she muttered, glancing at Hunt. He nodded, his wings twitching slightly in agitation.

Ruhn’s gaze lingered on the woman, still seated and chained, her expression cool and inscrutable. There was something about her—something that dug beneath his skin and refused to let go. He forced himself to turn away, following Bryce and Hunt as they moved toward the door.

“We’ll be back,” Bryce said over her shoulder to the others, her voice tight. “Make sure she doesn’t get too comfortable.”

Bryce’s grip tightened on Ruhn’s arm, a silent signal for him and Hunt to follow as she led them further down the corridor. Her footsteps echoed off the cold stone walls, each step measured, purposeful. She didn’t speak until they were out of earshot of the guards, out of sight of any prying eyes.

Finally, she stopped in front of a heavy door marked with sigils that glowed faintly in the dim light. Bryce glanced over her shoulder, her gaze flicking between Ruhn and Hunt. “Inside. Both of you.”

Ruhn and Hunt exchanged a look but followed her into the room without argument. It was smaller than the interrogation room, furnished only with a table and a few chairs. An array of magical devices cluttered the tabletop, shimmering faintly in the glow of the overhead lights. The door clicked shut behind them, and Bryce exhaled, running a hand through her hair.

“What’s this about, Bryce?” Hunt asked, his voice steady but wary.

Bryce took a deep breath, her expression serious as she turned to face them. “I need to try and reach Nesta. Now.”

Ruhn’s brows furrowed. “Here? But we’re supposed to—”

“I know what we’re supposed to do, Ruhn,” Bryce interrupted, her voice tight. “But if there’s even a chance that Nesta knows something—anything—that can help us understand what’s going on with our prisoner, then we can’t wait. We need answers, and we need them fast.”

Hunt crossed his arms, his wings rustling as he shifted. “And how exactly are you planning to reach her?”

Bryce moved to the table, picking up a small, intricately carved crystal and holding it up to the light. “This,” she said, her tone laced with determination. “I asked Hypaxia two days ago to create something that will be able to get me to open a portal. Apparently this is the best she could create in such a short notice. Astonishing really, how a medwitch can create something like this. But she was my only hope and this is the only way we have so I really don’t wanna fail this.”

Ruhn eyed the crystal warily. “Are you sure it’s safe?”

“No,” Bryce admitted, a faint smile curving her lips. “But when has that ever stopped us?”

Hunt’s jaw tightened. “We should have someone stand guard outside. In case anything goes wrong.”

Bryce nodded. “Good idea. I don’t know how long this will take, but if I can connect with her—if she’s seen anything related to those symbols or this female, then we’ll have a better chance of figuring out what we’re dealing with.”

Ruhn stepped closer, his expression softening. “Bryce, are you sure you’re ready for this? We don’t know what kind of effects this could have—on you, or on Nesta.”

“I have to try, Ruhn,” she said quietly, meeting his gaze. “We can’t just sit here and wait. Not when there’s so much at stake.”

Hunt nodded, his face set in a determined mask. “I’ll keep watch outside. If anyone tries to come in, I’ll handle it.”

Bryce’s eyes flickered with gratitude. “Thanks, Hunt.”

He gave her a quick, reassuring smile and a kiss before slipping out the door, leaving Ruhn and Bryce alone in the small room. Silence stretched between them, heavy and tense. Bryce set the crystal down on the table and began arranging a few other objects around it—candles, symbols drawn on parchment, small vials filled with what looked like sand or dust.

Ruhn watched her, his heart pounding in his chest. “Are you sure about this?”

Bryce paused, her hands hovering over the setup. “No,” she said softly. “But we need to know, Ruhn.”

Ruhn exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Alright. What do you need me to do?”

Bryce glanced up at him, a small, determined smile on her lips. “Just be here. In case things get… weird.”

He nodded, stepping closer to the table, his gaze fixed on the crystal. “I can do that.”

Taking a deep breath, Bryce lit the candles one by one, the flames flickering to life in the dim room. She closed her eyes, her hands hovering over the crystal as she began to murmur softly, her voice a low, melodic chant. The air around them seemed to thicken, a strange, tingling energy filling the space.

Ruhn held his breath, his heart pounding as he watched his sister work, the crystal beginning to glow faintly in response to her words. The light grew brighter, pulsing in time with her voice, until it filled the room with a warm, steady glow.

And then, with a sudden, almost imperceptible shift, the light changed—softening, dimming, until it seemed to fold in on itself, forming a small, shimmering portal in the air above the table.

Bryce’s eyes snapped open, her breath catching as she stared at the portal. “Nesta,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

For a moment, nothing happened. The portal shimmered and flickered, its edges wavering as if it might vanish at any second. And then, slowly, a figure began to take shape within it—a woman, her hair light and braided, her eyes fierce and unyielding.

Ruhn’s breath caught in his throat as Nesta Archeron’s face came into view, her expression tense and guarded. “Bryce?” she said, her voice echoing faintly through the portal.

Bryce’s grip on the table tightened, her knuckles white. “Nesta. I need your help.”

Nesta’s form solidified through the portal, her gaze cool and piercing as she took in the sight of Bryce and Ruhn. She crossed her arms, the faintest hint of irritation in her expression.

“This better be good,” she said sharply, her eyes flicking between the two of them. “Why did you call me?”

Bryce exhaled, gripping the pendant in her hand. “It’s about these symbols,” she said, holding up the engraved piece of jewelry for Nesta to see. “They’re the same ones we saw in those caves in your world, remember?”

Nesta’s gaze narrowed, her posture shifting slightly as she took a step closer. “I remember,” she said, her voice low. “The carvings on the walls. What does this have to do with you?”

“There’s a female we found,” Bryce explained. “She was wearing this. And she’s… dangerous, Nesta. I don’t know who or what she is, but I have a bad feeling about her. We need to figure out what these symbols mean and if there’s something in your world that could help us understand what’s going on.”

Nesta frowned, studying the pendant intently. “You think she’s connected to those carvings?”

Bryce nodded. “I don’t know how, but it’s too much of a coincidence. We can’t ignore it.”

Nesta’s expression remained guarded, but there was a flicker of something—concern, curiosity, maybe even a hint of fear. “And you think she’s a threat? To you, to Midgard?”

“Yes,” Bryce said softly. “I can feel it, Nesta. There’s something about her, something… wrong. Or maybe I am delusional but whatever the case is, she is not to be trusted and will cause unnecessary problems. Something we don’t need.”

Nesta’s lips pressed into a thin line. “And you think I can help?”

Bryce glanced at Ruhn, then back at Nesta. “You’ve dealt with a lot, Nesta. You’ve seen things most people can’t even imagine. If anyone can help us understand what’s going on, it’s you.”

Nesta’s eyes hardened, and for a moment, she seemed to be weighing something, some invisible scale tipping back and forth in her mind. Then she nodded slowly. “I’ll look into it,” she said, her voice steady. “But don’t get your hopes up. If these symbols are what I think they are… we might not like what we find.”

Bryce’s stomach tightened, but she nodded. “I just need to know what we’re up against. Anything you can find, anything at all, would be a start. Maybe even ask that uptight king of yours.”

“High lord. And I’ll do what I can,” Nesta said, a grim look in her eyes. She hesitated, glancing at Ruhn. “And you? Are you ready for whatever this might bring?”

Ruhn’s jaw clenched, but he nodded. “We’ll be ready.”

Nesta’s gaze lingered on him for a moment longer before she turned back to Bryce. “Just… be careful. If this female is as dangerous as you say, you’ll need to be prepared.”

Bryce nodded, a tight smile on her lips. “We will be.”

Nesta gave a curt nod, then turned back to the portal. She paused, looking over her shoulder one last time. “And Bryce… whatever you do, don’t go poking around too much. Some things are better left buried.”

With that, she stepped through the portal, disappearing into the swirling light.

Ruhn watched the portal close, the shimmering light fading until it was just him and Bryce left in the dim room. The female who’d stepped through was a stranger to him, her face fierce and determined, but it was clear from Bryce’s reaction that she wasn’t just anyone.

He turned to his sister, still trying to process what had just happened. “So… that was Nesta?”

Bryce nodded, her expression tight. “Yeah. One of the only ones I trust to help us figure this out. I mean, these carvings were in their caves, right? Her high lord has to know something.”

“She seems… intense,” he said, trying to piece together his impression of her. It was hard to gauge someone just from a brief encounter, but there had been something in her eyes—like she wasn’t easily rattled, no matter what she was facing.

“She is,” Bryce replied, her voice quiet. “But she’s also the best person to help us. If anyone can make sense of that pendant or those carvings, it’s her.”

Ruhn nodded slowly, still a little uncertain. He didn’t know Nesta, didn’t understand her, but if Bryce believed she could help, he’d go along with it. For now, at least. There were too many unknowns, too many dangers lurking in the shadows. And whoever that female was, the one they had locked up in the other room, she was at the center of it all.

“Do you think she’ll be able to get the answers we need?” he asked, glancing at Bryce.

“I hope so,” Bryce murmured, her gaze fixed on the door. “Because if not, I don’t know who else can.”

Ruhn swallowed, a chill settling over him. He didn’t like the uncertainty, the feeling of being out of his depth. But he’d follow Bryce’s lead, trust her judgment. Because right now, that was all they had.

******

1,2,3…….1,2,3….4,5,6,7,…8,9….

Seraphis sighed and leaned her head back against the cold wall. It has been two hours since the minions left. Captors, Seraphis chuckled. “Captors my ass.”

If they think that they are making any process with her, they are up for a big fucking surprise.

Her eyes roamed the small, barren room. She’d memorized every detail of it, every inch of the walls, the faint hum of magic lacing the air, the way the wards vibrated with power—everything they thought would keep her trapped. To anyone else, it might have seemed hopeless, but to her, it was just another puzzle to solve.

1, 2, 3… She counted again, the rhythm of it calming her thoughts as she traced the weak points in the wards. They weren’t glaring gaps, but subtle imperfections, places where the magic didn’t weave together perfectly. 4, 5, 6, 7… Almost there. She felt a grin tug at her lips.

A wisp of her magic slipped through the cracks, a tendril so fine it was almost undetectable. She fed it into the wards, feeling for their structure, testing the strength of their confinement. It wasn’t enough to break free—not yet—but it was enough to understand how they were constructed. It would only be a matter of time before she found the weak link.

8, 9… Seraphis’s eyes glinted as she completed the circuit. Her magic recoiled back to her, and she let out a slow breath. She could dismantle it—maybe not tonight, but soon.

She shifted, glancing at the door, imagining those self-satisfied faces of her so-called captors. Bryce Quinlan, with her fiery determination and endless questions. The way she’d tried to appear confident, in control. It was almost amusing.

“Sweetheart,” Seraphis murmured to the empty room, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “you have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

And Ruhn—his presence had surprised her. He was different from the others. He’d looked at her like he was trying to piece together some impossible puzzle. She almost felt sorry for him, almost. But whatever flicker of something she’d sensed between them, whatever unknown feelings she felt for him when she saw his dead body in the future, it didn’t matter. He was just another obstacle in her path.

The Asteri had taught her well. There was no room for sentimentality, no space for hesitation. Everything and everyone was a tool to be used, and once they’d served their purpose… well, she’d leave them behind like she always did.

She closed her eyes, her mind drifting back to her purpose, her mission. The Asteri, their commands, their goals. She was their weapon, honed and sharpened for centuries, and now, even in this pathetic excuse of a prison, she would not falter. The Asteri had made her strong. Made her untouchable.

This realm—Midgard, the Fae, the little humans playing at war and power—it was all so insignificant. She was here for a reason, and she would not be distracted by these petty games. They thought they were holding her, thought they were keeping her from what she needed to do. Fools.

“Tick tock,” she whispered, a vicious smile playing on her lips. “Time’s running out, darlings.”

She imagined the chaos she would unleash once she broke free, the terror that would spread through their ranks. She could almost taste their fear, the delicious scent of it filling her senses.

“Let’s see how long your precious wards hold.”

The door creaked open again. Seraphis didn’t bother to lift her head from where she leaned back against the wall, eyes closed, arms crossed over her chest. The scent of shadows and starlight clung to the air like smoke, a dead giveaway of who had entered.

Ruhn Danaan.

He shut the door behind him with a soft click, then stood there, the silence stretching as he observed her, probably trying to decide how to begin. She smirked inwardly. Amateurs.

“Back for more, Prince?” she drawled, still not opening her eyes. “Or did you forget something?”

“No,” Ruhn said evenly, his voice steady. “But I thought I’d give it another shot. See if you’re willing to talk.”

She cracked an eye open, lazily meeting his gaze. “You’re wasting your time.”

“Maybe.” He took a few steps closer, cautiously, like he was approaching a cornered animal. “But I’ve got time to waste.”

She huffed a laugh, low and derisive. “Charming. Let me guess, you’re here to ‘break me down’? To ‘win me over’ with that hero complex you all seem to have?”

Ruhn shrugged, his expression calm, almost thoughtful. “I’m here because I want to know who you are.”

“Good luck with that.” She straightened, fixing him with a cold stare. “I’m not interested in playing your little games.”

“I’m not playing games,” he countered. “I just want to know the truth.”

“Which is?” she taunted, arching an eyebrow. “That I’m some big, bad villain you all have to take down? That I’m the monster hiding under your beds?”

“I don’t know what you are,” Ruhn admitted, his gaze intense, unwavering. “But I know you’re not just some nameless, faceless enemy. There’s more to you than that.”

She snorted, shaking her head. “How profound. Did you come up with that all by yourself?”

“Actually, yeah,” he said, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Figured it out while staring at these walls for hours.”

“Impressive.” She made a show of slow-clapping, her smile mocking. “But you’re still barking up the wrong tree.”

“Maybe.” He leaned against the table, still keeping a careful distance between them. “Or maybe you just don’t want anyone to see what’s really there.”

“What’s really there?” she echoed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “A broken girl? A tragic backstory? Save it, Prince. I’m not some damsel in distress for you to fix.”

“I’m not trying to fix you,” he said quietly, his voice steady. “I’m just trying to understand.”

She scoffed, but there was something in his eyes, something that made her chest tighten, just a little. “Understand what, exactly?”

“Who you are,” Ruhn said, his gaze piercing. “What you’re doing here.”

“Maybe I’m just here to enjoy the scenery.” She gestured around the dull, bare room. “Isn’t it lovely?”

His lips twitched, a flicker of amusement that he quickly smothered. “So, what do I call you then? Or should I just keep referring to you as ‘the girl with the pendant’?”

“Call me whatever you like,” she said coolly. “It won’t change a thing.”

“Names have power,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “I guess you’d know that better than anyone.”

Seraphis stiffened, her eyes narrowing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that someone like you…” He trailed off, his gaze steady on hers. “I bet you know the weight a name can carry.”

“Nice try,” she said, her voice hard, unyielding. “But you’re not getting anything out of me.”

Ruhn tilted his head slightly, watching her with a careful, assessing look. “Not even your name?”

“No,” she snapped, the word cutting through the air like a knife. “Not even that.”

He didn’t back down, didn’t look away. “Why not?”

“Because it’s none of your damn business.” She could feel her pulse quickening, that tightness in her chest coiling tighter.

“You know, I get it,” Ruhn said, his voice almost gentle. “You don’t want to give anyone anything. Not a piece of yourself, not a name, nothing.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.” Her voice was icy, her walls firmly back in place.

“But here’s the thing,” Ruhn continued, his eyes locked on hers. “You’re not just anyone. And you’re not just here for nothing. I don’t need to know your whole story, but I think we can start with something small. Something that doesn’t mean anything.”

Seraphis clenched her jaw, every instinct screaming at her to shut him down, to throw him off. But there was something about the way he was looking at her, something that made her blood boil and her heart race. “You want a name?” she sneered, the words a razor-edged taunt. “Fine. You can call me Seraphis.”

Ruhn’s eyes widened, just a fraction, and then his expression smoothed into something more careful, more guarded. “Seraphis,” he repeated softly, like he was tasting the word, testing it. “It suits you.”

She rolled her eyes, feigning nonchalance even as her heart pounded in her chest. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur. “But thanks.”

The silence stretched between them, taut and crackling with something unspoken, something dangerous. Then Ruhn straightened, pushing off the table.

“Guess I’ll leave you to your… solitude.” He turned, heading for the door. “For now.”

“Don’t do me any favors, Prince,” she called after him, her voice sharp, cutting. “You’ll just be wasting your time.”

He paused at the door, glancing back at her with a small, almost knowing smile. “I don’t think I am.”

And then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

Seraphis let out a long, slow breath, her hands still clenched into fists. Stupid. So stupid. Letting that slip. Letting him get to her, even for a moment.

But it didn’t matter. It was just a name. A meaningless, stupid name.

She pushed off the wall, pacing the small room, her thoughts racing. This wasn’t going to work. She needed to get out of here, and fast. Before they found out anything more.

Before this place—and these people—started getting under her skin.

Seraphis leaned back against the cold wall, the silence settling around her like a heavy fog. Alone again, she let out a slow breath, her frustration simmering just below the surface.

“Idiots,” she muttered, glancing at the pendant resting on the small table. Its etchings glinted under the dim light, a reminder of the power it held—and the threat it posed.

She reached out, fingers brushing over its cool surface. As soon as she made contact, the pendant warmed in her grip, its glow intensifying. Seraphis frowned, lifting it closer to her eyes. “What now?” she whispered, sensing an unusual energy radiating from it.

The light pulsed rhythmically, almost alive, and she could feel it beckoning her. Panic flickered in her chest. The Asteri had warned her: if it glowed, someone was trying to track or summon her.

“Damn it,” she hissed, gripping the pendant tighter. She had a mission, a purpose, but this was an unwelcome complication.

“Focus,” she commanded herself, willing the pendant to stabilize. If this was an attempt to manipulate her, she wouldn’t allow it. She was in control. But who was it?

With a surge of determination, she concentrated on the pendant, trying to push back against the pull. The glow flickered, responding to her will, but the intensity remained.

“No,” she said, frustration bubbling over. “You’re not summoning me.”

With a final push, she commanded the pendant’s light to dim. The glow faded, leaving her in silence once more. She took a deep breath, the weight of the pendant now a grounding presence against her chest.

As calm settled in, she steeled herself. This pendant was connected to something important, but she wouldn’t let it dictate her actions. She had her own plans.

Seraphis’s resolve hardened. She would uncover the truth behind this glow and use it to her advantage. No one was going to pull her into their games.

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

Taglist:@annamariereads16 @tooexhaustedsstuff @a-frog-with-a-laptop @cassie-at-college-blog @itsinherited @anuttellaa @ydubbu

#acotar #fanfics #maasverse #rhythm heaven #rhysand acotar #ruhn danaan #ruhn crescent city #prince ruhn #bryce quinlan #crescent city #crescent city fanfiction

24 notes · View notes