#desna imagine

[feral-jackdaw]

ATLA and LOK did an excellent job with the goths and emos actually

[fl3shm4id3n]

I kinda want to do an arranged marriage fic with Desna from Legends of Korra

[hadesisqueer]

Redeemed Azula (the vision Aaron Ehasz had of it) had the potential to be the funniest character in the whole franchise lmao.

Imagine her as an old lady in LOK and everyone meeting her. Her scary musical motif plays when people realize who she is and then she's just chilling like 'yeah, it's me. Want some tea?' and ends up chatting with Bolin for a while. She goes with Zuko, Eska, Desna and Tonraq to stop the Red Lotus and the elevator scene between Dad of the Avatar + People who tried to kill the Avatar somehow becomes even more awkward with her in it. They all hear about the death of the Earth Queen and wonder how they got inside Ba Sing Se and the palace so easily and Azula just goes 'I did it when I was 14, it's not hard', and then immediately say 'sorry, not the time'. She hears about what the Red Lotus plans to do —killing Korra in the Avatar State—, and she starts saying that that is bad strategy if you do it upfront and should be more of a quick sneak attack like when she did it because otherwise the Avatar would fight back, and then immediately shuts up when everyone is staring at her and says 'sorry, this is bad.'

Like, potentially the funniest character in the franchise.

[wilcze-kudly]

any hcs for those nwt royal twins??

Hmmm... I need to rewatch B2 because I do like Eska and Desna they deserve more screentime. But I rarely focus on them since I find B2 to be a pretty boring season. It's not that I don't like it it's that it's just kinda dry. But I do have a few headcanons.

One of them is trans. Like objectively when there's a pair of identical twins that are two different genders someone is transing their gender. My money personally is on Desna but the idea of Eska being a trans woman is nice bcs it elevates boleska from a 4/10 to a 7/10 for me. Himbos should worship trans women actually.

For some reason I imagine that Desna met the Red Lotus as a kid (since they used to work with Unalaq) and seeing Ghazan cracked his egg lol. Idk I just think baby Desna would think he's cool. (Also.. trans elder ghazan 👀)

Desna totally idolises his dad, despite Unalaq being a loser, while Eska is a tiny bit more of a rebel and even sneaks out of the palace sometimes.

Desna really likes fashion but only Eska knows of this interest. He wishes he could wear more modern fashionable clothing but Unalaq insists on them wearing traditional clothing.

Eska is actually pretty spiritually gifted herself but Unalaq never really nurtured her talent like he did with Korra

Unalaq was always a pretty detached father and the twins' mother also didn't really care that much so they grew up pretty isolated with only each other. They were definitely raised with that "be seen and not heard" mantra.

[dujour13]

OC Kiss Week - day 6

A kiss for darling Lariel, who belongs to my friend @the-raging-tempest and exists in many incarnations across the multiverse 💜

Lariel’s skin prickles. It’s getting cold out here on the deck of the Bloodstone Rose and the salt spray has gradually soaked through her mourning dress, which will be even more uncomfortably stiff and edged with white when—or if—it dries. All the more reason to get rid of it, she decides, and the mental image of wadding it up and tossing it overboard gives her a small degree of satisfaction to distract from the stinging wind. Another itchy, constraining part of her old life to throw to the waves.

She’s reluctant to return to the cabin despite the chill, and despite that she’s all too aware she’s obstructing the sailors’ work and they don’t dare ask the weather witch to move aside. Inside it’s stuffy with beer and sweat and she feels even more of a nuisance in the narrow spaces, and besides, Zrise is more sullen than usual today. She wishes she had someone else to talk to. She wishes the sailors would dare speak to her, but they’re as aware of her social status as of her ability to bend the wind to her will and they just dip their heads and say “Miss” and hurry off whenever she opens her mouth. It only occurs to her this moment that Zrise may have done something to intimidate them, zealously protective as he’s been since they left the city.

She wanted to be happy out here on the open sea, but she feels just as trapped and useless and isolated as ever.

When a violent shiver runs through her frame she reluctantly turns to go inside, but catches sight of another passenger, the colorfully dressed bard, and is suddenly frozen in the grip of her loneliness.

Of course he won’t notice me, she thinks, a small, dark, shivering ghost in her ruined charcoal gown and mourning scarf.

But he does notice her. He grins and beckons. “Watch this.”

He tosses something into the wind and a gull stoops for it, and another gull sweeps in from below and steals it from the first’s beak, and the sky is full of their plaintive cries and frenzied flapping.

Then he hands her something and she reaches for it without thinking. It’s a slimy day-old shrimp.

“Go on,” he encourages her.

Lariel has no intention of tossing this shrimp feebly over the gunwale. She takes a step back, draws back her arm and whips it out as hard as she can. The shrimp arcs up into the gray sky. There is another angry, shrieking explosion of feathers. She and the bard laugh together and she forgets about the chill for a moment.

He nods toward the dark clouds on the horizon. “One of yours?”

“No,” she says. “A regular storm.”

“Oh no. Regular storms make me sick. You know what’s funny though? Yours don’t.”

“They don’t?”

“It’s weird. The ship pitches, but somehow knowing we’re in good hands and we’re headed somewhere makes me feel like it’s going to be all right.” He touches the pendant at his throat. “Kind of like Desna. Tymora, you call her here.”

“I wish I could tell you we were headed somewhere,” she murmurs, almost too quietly to be heard over the wind.

“You’re running from something.” As if it’s a joke he says this with mock gravity, although not without sympathy. “Let me try to guess. I’m an expert palm reader. May I?”

Lariel can only imagine Zrise’s reaction to this person prying into their affairs—but Zrise isn’t here, is he? She offers her small, cold hand.

“Hm,” he peers closely at her palm and pokes at the creases as if teasing out their secrets. “Aha. Here it is. Escaping an arranged marriage.”

Her eyes widen. She looks at her own hand. “Where do you see that?”

But when she glances up she realizes he’s laughing at her gently. “Your brother told me.”

“Oh.” She reddens but his teasing seems so friendly she can only laugh. “Wait—my brother told you that?”

“We talked,” he shrugs, as if it’s normal that Zrise would confide anything to anyone.

She frowns at him sidelong.

He misunderstands. “Don’t worry, this is not a bid to besmirch your honor. I’m not much for besmirching ladies.”

She remembers Zrise’s tirade about her naiveté with Venan and decides to stay on her guard, but it’s so nice to just talk to someone. “I suppose you’re running away from something too.”

“I like to think of it more as running towards something,” he says, looking hopefully out to the horizon.

“Towards what?”

“I’ll know when I get there.”

Lariel laughs with delight. “That sounds wonderful,” she says, but she’s unable to hide a hint of wistfulness in her voice.

“No reason you shouldn’t look at it that way too.”

He’s right, she realizes. Her mind has been so mired in that prison of a family manor and escaping from it that she still feels its drag on her every thought, the oppressive hands of the past pulling her under so she’s hardly had a moment with her head above water just to breathe. Unconsciously her hand goes to her throat.

Before she can answer, the cabin door slams open with a splintering crack and her brother Zrise stomps out, dragging something that turns out to be the scruff of the young redheaded sailor’s neck—the only sailor who dared speak to her once. He hauls the whimpering man like a dog toward the gunwale, and for a moment Lariel thinks he’s going to throw him to the gulls like a shrimp, but then Zrise notices her standing there with the bard and his face slackens from rage to an awkward, forced smile.

“Can’t take a joke, can you?” he snaps at the young sailor, dropping him to the deck like a rag. “I wasn’t really going to…”

Lariel expects Zrise to storm up and “escort” her back into the cabin but he’s gone an odd shade of his usual pale and seems… embarrassed? He’s wearing his stupid boots like he’s trying to impress someone. To her surprise he slinks back into the cabin without another word.

She and the bard rush to the aid of the sailor but as soon as he’s on his feet he’s away, and neither of them says a word about it as they go back to contemplating the horizon together.

When at last the chill starts getting under their skin they head into the cabin. The sailors are watching an approaching ship on intercept course and muttering about pirates.

“Looks like things are about to get even more interesting,” says Lariel, trying to feel optimistic.

“I’m not worried. You have a damn good arm,” says Siavash. He kisses her on the cheek and she feels her optimism float up and crystallize. “It’ll be fine.”

[bladesmitten]

ooooohhh ummm . kissing your lover in a moment of sheer joy for tane & lann .......... AND/OR (<- ignoring you sorry) ... biting your lover's lip amidst a kiss. for jae & isolde ? <3

it's tane/lann time <3 (lanne? tann? lantan?) (kiss prompts)

---

Tane used to think home is wherever she is, for a self-proclaimed hunter who never stayed in one place, never settled, always ready to run far, far away.

And then Irmangaleth takes her away into the depths of the arena, the Nahyndrian collar sapping away the last vestiges of her energy. Alone and isolated, just like she wanted ever since she stepped foot in the Abyss. The Nexus had provided no such opportunity with its cramped space and the Herald looming over her, disallowing damage (self-inflicted or not), and she misliked the way everyone fussed over her like she was some fragile little thing. Alone, in the bowels of Battlebliss, the collar feels like freedom.

She grits her teeth, staunchly refusing Zeklex’s offer of help. The seeds of freedom planted in the Fleshmarkets reminds her she has untapped strength, sourced from chaos and rage, from resentment that has taken root the moment she accepted the Knight Commander’s mantle on her shoulders. It wasn’t easy, facing off the reigning champion in the arena, and alone, she barely emerges victorious, not unscathed, yet secretly thankful for her sparring sessions with him aboveground. She misses it, truth be told.

In the few hours apart—six hours, twelve minutes, and thirty seconds, but who’s counting?—she misses a lot of things, she realises. Seelah’s forced guffaw at a sardonic joke, Daeran’s withering sneer in response (oh, but she knows of the warmth underneath), Woljif joining in with his ever-comedic timing, Arueshalae’s soft giggle (she genuinely thinks it’s funny), and, and, and,

Lann’s steady hand, his sharp wit, his dexterous and nimble arms—arms she runs towards like a loosed arrow, arms now wrapped around her, lifting her up as she collapses into him, her muscles bruised and fatigued. Later she might blame it on her adrenaline, that post-battle euphoria, heart hammering against ribs, but for now, she kisses him, unthinking and clumsy and probably ill-mannered (oh, Desna, everyone is staring at them, aren’t they?), melting into the steadfast bulwark of his body.

Nothing like she ever imagined: the way he kisses her back, breathing her in, the taste of reptilian scales and human skin, claws grasping at her nape, fingers digging in his biceps: a lifetime’s worth of yearning decanted from lungs to lungs. She emerges with a short gasp and buries herself in the crook of his neck. Maybe she’ll regret this later, the stray thought wanders, and the desire to flee rises, prickling beneath her skin, but she shrugs it off.

For the first time in a long time, she’s certain she won’t run away.

[dragonologist-phd]

Piper & Companions - First Impressions vs Final Opinion

Tag game: Give your KC’s first impression and final opinion of each of their companions!

tagged by @dujour13! thank you!

i've already lost track of who's done this, so if you want to do it (or do it again), i'm tagging you! yes, you!

First Impressions

Seelah: “Wonderful- on top of everything else I have to deal with, there’s also a Paladin. At least this one seems to have a better spirit about it than most.”

Camellia: "There's a rich girl if I've ever seen one. She sure does remind me of someone..."

Lann: "Odd fellow. I can't decide if he's smart or an idiot. Either way, he thinks far too highly of me. But I think I like him."

Wenduag: "Someone who looks like that has a lot of nerve bad-mouthing tieflings. Unfortunately, she seems useful right now."

Woljif: "Him, I understand. And I just might take him up on that offer to leave before things get too messy. Thieves and outcasts gotta stick together, yeah?"

Ember: "What is she doing here? Why does she insist on sticking around? Someone needs to be responsible for her, and I really don't think I'm the right person for that."

Daeran: "Ugh. All I wanted to do was steal some silverware, now I'm stuck with the most obnoxious person in Mendev."

Nenio: "She certainly has her own set of priorities. And if nothing else, she knows how to provide a good distraction."

Ulbrig: "Is he really as old as he says he is? Or is he just as crazy as he seems? It's getting harder and harder to tell the difference these days."

Galfrey: "She's a tough one to read. But I must have convinced her I know what I'm doing if she's trusting me- me!- with the Crusade. I hope she never realizes how much of this I'm making up as I go."

Sosiel: "An absolute dear! I could talk about art with him all day long. I can't imagine what possessed him to go to war, of all things, but I'm glad he's here. That's probably selfish of me, but there you go."

Regill: "Huh. I thought he'd be gargoyle food by now. Pity."

Trever: "Nobody should have to go through this. I'm going to get him out of here, and then I'm going to burn this place to the ground."

Arueshalae: "I know this voice...I just never imagined it belonged to a succubus. Maybe I'm the fool for getting close to her, but she helped us- and more than that, Desna vouched for her. That's enough for me."

Greybor: "He's shrewd; people underestimate the value of that. That's why I don't trust him beyond what I pay him. He can say what he wants, but contracts are broken every day."

Aivu: "I have no idea what's happening anymore but yes of course we're best friends!"

Final Opinion

Seelah: “She’s pretty amazing. I’d have died many times over if not for her, but it's more than that- nothing keeps her down, and she’s the most loyal friend I’ve ever had. I trust her, and coming from me? That's a big deal.”

Camellia: "I should have stopped her sooner, I know. I could justify my choices, but really...I was afraid of having to fight her. I ended up having to do that, anyway. I do wish it could have been different."

Lann: "Definitely an idiot. I thought we were friends, but- I don't know. I still like him enough to hope he stops trying to throw his life away, at least."

Wenduag: "I did give her a chance. I suppose I always knew what would happen, but- well, you can't blame me for hoping."

Woljif: "He's my best friend and my brother and still the only person who I think totally gets me. I'm proud of how far he's come- how far we've come."

Ember: "I guess she could take care of herself pretty well, in the end. She takes care of others, too. I still wish she didn't have to, but at least she's happy."

Daeran: "I still think he's the most obnoxious person in Mendev, but...he's grown on me. If nothing else, he's the perfect partner for wine and gossip."

Nenio: "It's funny- I've gone by a lot of names in my lifetime, and that's never bothered me. But I'm really glad she remembers this one."

Ulbrig: "An actual god, huh? I couldn't have made up a story this fantastical. It's going to make a great song."

Galfrey: "I wish her the best, but...things just aren't the same. Whatever friendship we might have had at one point, I don't think it can be recovered. I suppose I'm mature enough now to forgive, but still not enough to forget."

Sosiel: "Still an absolute dear. And I'm still glad to know him. He has a strength few people see; I feel lucky, to be able to see it."

Regill: "Maybe I was harsh on him at first. Not that he doesn't deserve it, but...he stuck by me, even when I really thought he wouldn't. I guess that counts for something."

Trever: "He's still a good man, and he deserves a good life. I don't know if he believes that yet, but he's getting there."

Arueshalae: "My sunshine, my miracle, my happy ending. I could write a ballad in her honor every day for the rest of my life, and it would never be enough to say how much I love her. She says I've made her a better person, but we all know it's really the other way around."

Greybor: "I don't care if he's the most feared assassin in the demon realms, I know the truth- he's a big old softie."

Aivu: "Still best friends. Still the best part about being an Azata!"

[reticent-writer]

Good time of day. I want to request a job on the Legend of Korra fandom. How would Desna, Esca and Korra treat a reader who belongs to a harsh clan of assassins with a bad reputation. He is quiet and reserved, but only because people treat him and the clan with aggression. He wears hidden blades in his sleeves, reflexively substituting the blade to the throat of a person who approached unnoticed (fearing a sudden attack). Let's imagine that the reader's parents came there to conclude a contract or something like that. Gender neutral reader. Thank you in advance.

◡̈⋆ʜᴇʟʟᴏ(●’◡’●)ﾉ sorry for the wait

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

Desna

On the outside it looks like you both are just acquaintances but when the both of you are alone you are the cutest couple

Both of you being reserved adds to that

You don't say much in regards to your clan. If someone wants to talk you let them but it someone wants to hit you for it you fight back.

No mercy

Desna stands off to the side cheering for you

being an assassin you still have a job to do when your family calls

You hide most of anything that is associated with your clan not because your ashamed but because it makes your job difficult

"Are you really from the L/n clan. That low class group of assassins killed my cousin for nothing." they pushed you.

"Was it you?" they pushed you again.

Desna was about to step in if you didn't wave him off.

"It was you wasn't it. Can't even look me in the eye."

In the blink of an eye you had them pushed against the nearest wall with a knife at their throat.

Out like a light.

Esca

whoever hurts you will not live to see another day

We all know how aggressive she can get and when she sees how you've been treated

what she doesn't know is that under your calm personality is a monster

you strike with precision and elegance. whoever goes against you will either be humiliated or not live to see another day

Just because your clan is shunned doesn't you just gonna sit back and take it.

She loves watching you fight. It's like watching a different person

You didn't care about what anyone said about you but when they bring up your clan it's over.

You made Quick work of them and went back to Esca.

"Shall we continue, my dear." You offered your arm out to her.

"We shall, my turtle duck."

Korra

being the type of person you are everyone was quite surprised to see you and her together

it's like the popular girl dating the quite kid

You sit back and watch as Korra reams anyone who dares talk about you

sometimes you ever have to pull her away

"It's fine Korra. It's not that serious." You tried to get out of the situation

"No it's not how could you let someone talk about you like that."

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

[yunessa]

15 lines of dialogue

Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

tagged by @dujour13

1.) "If you said it was safe safe to walk off this cliff I'd believe you. Why the face? It's a sign of how much I trust you that I'm willing to even consider such a thing."

2.) "Everyone wants us on their side, working for their own ends. Have you noticed that? They all want us as a pawn, not an equal or a leader. Not truly."

3.) "Don't push your human morality onto me."

4.) "I like this field of purple wildflowers. If I could ever have a home, I'd like to to border a place like this- old forests, the sea, fields of tall grasses and wildflowers. It soothes something in my elven heart that I have forgotten."

5.) "You talk like you're evil Trever. But six hundred times you have made the same choice- to be better. It is easier to be cruel and greedy. It's never easy to be a better man and each day you wake up and make that choice you're better than the man you were yesterday."

6.) "A... birthday? I've never thought about it for myself. Let's put it on a day the people need a holiday in Drezen. I- wait. Why are you looking at me like that?"

7.) "Out of all the things I've ever claimed to be 'good' was not one of them. I've seen the person I am on the inside and they're a terrible creature."

8.) "I tried not to be you enemy. I never failed to work for your interests. You want me to be your enemy? Then so be it. Let Calistra bear witness to your decision today."

9.) "In a hundred lives I would die for you. And I will do the same a hundred lives more."

10.) "I do hate you. You're a demon and not once have you shown yourself to be apologetic for your actions. But... you're more honest than she is. It says a lot about this crusade when the demons are more trustworthy than the ones that are supposed to be good and pure."

11.) "Sometimes I think I can't wait for this crusade to be over but other times... other times I find it difficult to imagine a normal life. How could I live without looking over my shoulder for demons and keeping watch for traps?"

12.) "I've been told I'm not longer allowed to hold my lyre when we sit down and talk serious. Apparently plucking at the lute to add dramatic effect is 'a disturbance to the meeting'."

13.) "No quill and no paper but you still drew my attention."

14.) "Desna placed the stars in the sky, so the priest's say. But they failed to mention the stars she placed in your eyes."

15.) "Listen Sosiel- no, no hold on- listen. You said the bleeding was internal, right? Well blood is supposed to be inside the body so you need to stop fussing about me being up and walking. No! Wait a moment Sosiel-gah!"

tagging: @shiawasekai and whoever would like to do this. Following the chain it seems like all of my mutuals were tagged. :)

[ustalav]

i like to do things god doesn't approve of if she saw us

fandom: pathfinder: wrath of the righteous pairing: arueshalae/camellia rating: pg-13 words: 1k summary: Camellia persuades Arueshalae to share some of her past.

READ ON AO3

“It’s unfortunate you’ve cut your hair so short, you would look so beautiful with long hair.” Camellia runs her fingers through Arueshalae’s short tresses, her touch sends tingles down the succubus’s neck.

Arueshalae sits on the ground below Camellia sitting primly on a stump she has purposed into a chair. The fire before them flickers with warmth as Camellia brushes Arueshalae’s hair.

“As you’ve said before,” She replies, voice quiet. “But I am fine not looking beautiful. I do not wish to enhance my appearance… I-I do not want to hurt anyone.”

Camellia’s nails scrape against the nape of her neck, a slight scratch of pain that Arueshalae is sure is unintentional as she continues to play with the strands, combing her fingers through tangles.

She begins to run a soft bristled brush gently through her hair. It’s such a soft, careful gentleness that Arueshalae has never come to expect and she is still not sure how to respond. If the goosebumps that raise on her skin are acceptable or a betrayal of the urges she tries so hard to harness within.

“I do so love our talks, Arueshalae. I see you as a confidante. I was never allowed to go out and befriend the other girls, it,” her voice turns sorrowful. “It was so lonely at times, I am glad we are friends.”

She had never had any friends, either. At least not true ones… none like this. There had been… despicable displays of girlishness. Traps to lure in and pile on degeneracy. But nothing true and pure, nothing resembling real friendship.

“Tell me about your childhood, what did you do to keep yourself entertained all that time?”

Camellia continues her steady brushing. She had told Arueshalae that the more strokes with the brush, the shinier and softer her hair would be. Each run of the bristles and soft caress of Camellia’s fingertips sends shivers through her, warmth spreading through her chest in a way that makes her want to flee. But she must remain strong. Have faith in Desna that it is possible for her to have an innocent friendship such as this.

“I had all that I could ask for, I had the sweetest puppy and I used to sneak it milk and morsels from the table,” she answers. “It would lick all the crumbs from my fingers. I imagine your own childhood was much different, demons don’t truly have them, do they? It must have been so terrible. You can tell me about it, I’m sure it’s such a burden to keep it all inside.”

She shifts, the ground suddenly much less comfortable than before, the fire less welcoming. Camellia’s fingers brush her neck again and something deep within her threatens to poke through, images of herself with her tongue on a mortal woman’s neck, pressed so close against her as she sucked away her life force, reveling in the pain and the pleasure, awaiting the desolation of her victim.

“No. I could not burden a friend with such knowledge. The Abyss… it’s not a place for a Lady like you, Camellia. There is no place for friendship, not like this. Everything has… an ulterior motive.”

Camellia smooths a hand down her neck, it’s a calming motion. Arueshalae’s wicked thoughts warp it into something else. She imagines herself, standing and turning to straddle her friend’s lap, to place her hand somewhere else. She pictures diving into the secrets of her mind and finding her sweetest desires to become and consume.

It’s all too much. She grips the fabric of her tunic tight in a clenched fist. She is about to get up, put distance between them, when Camellia speaks again.

“You are so in your mind about it, Arueshalae, it can’t be good for you. Shall I tell you a wicked deed of my own? We can trade! You can trust me.” Her touch is still feather-light and calming, she leans forward to speak quietly. Arueshalae feels the brush of Camellia’s breasts against the back of her head and once again she imagines pressing her friend down to the ground beside her, making her eat her words, showing her exactly what wicked deeds she could commit. She could take the memory of that sweet puppy and corrupt it into something horrifying, something that would ruin Camellia.

Desna, guide me.

“I don’t believe you’ve ever done anything as wicked as the things I have subjected others to.”

Arueshalae doesn’t see the small smile on Camellia’s face when she replies. “All the more reason to tell me, I am so ill-equipped to handle the guiles of demons after being sheltered so long.”

Arueshalae is silent for a while and Camellia fills the gap with a whisper. “One time, I heard one of the servants spreading rumors about me, Father had her turned onto the street but as she was packing, I spilled mulberry wine on her only frock. I pretended it was an accident but I liked knowing she would be forced to wear it or scrub it threadbare.”

Arueshalae can hear Camellia’s heart quicken, if she could see her face she would see her blown pupils and her pink tongue swiping across her lower lip. It is only half the tale.

Her voice sounds heavy with regret in spite of her excited reminiscing behind the succubus’s back. “I know it was so terrible of me. I’m truly not sure what came over me that day.”

She touches Arueshalae’s neck again, fingertips lingering where the nape meets her shoulder and then returns to brushing.

“I-,” Arueshalae begins, “I… once promised a serving girl a life of riches and wonders, I presented myself as a wealthy benefactress and… when she came to seek my patronage, I showered her in more and more jewels. I waited until she looked so, so happy and then I sucked the life from her until she was merely a husk covered in diamonds and pearls.” She shudders, voice wavering. “I don’t know what Desna sees in me.”

A butterfly flits around Camellia’s face and she swats it away like an annoying gnat. She licks her lips again and responds, “I’m not sure, either.”

[aelyosos]

rules: shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people!

tagged by: @feykiller + @swanfey + @arrow90-art -- tysm loves ! tagging: @cetra + @faerunaways + @tenmillionbees + @aldcaldos + @piratebay + @devilbrakers + @duskwulfs + @desnas + @katsigian + @nwoexx + any1 else who'd like to do this !

uproar -- lil wayne, swizz beatz

daffodil -- florence + the machine

arson -- j-hope

dark in my imagination -- of verona

sweet juice -- purple kiss

supernatural -- barns courtney

animal farm -- bibi

pre roll -- qveen herby

trigger -- chinchilla

l.e.e.c.h.e.s -- zand

[the-raging-tempest]

Ahh thank you @arrow90-art @desnas @dujour13 @aelyosos @molochka-koshka💕💕🥺💕💕

Right back at you all! I didn’t want to spam because tumblr got mad last time a sent a bunch of asks for a tag game but if you’re reading this! Imagine I sent this to you as well.

[themournwatcher]

untitled document 1. So pithy and confident in its place at the top of the list.

“Not every story you hear on honeyed tongues is true, Count,” Mathias said, “especially when those stories are supplied by coin. Tristifer followed a friend of his to Kenabres without telling anyone he was leaving. I just need to know if anyone has seen him.” Or, he thought dreadfully, if he didn’t even make it here. “Why are you asking me his whereabouts and not his friend?” “Do you know how hard it is to find a Sarenite cleric in the middle of a city of crusaders?” Something gleamed in Daeran’s gaze, something wicked. “A Sarenite cleric? Strange company for a Taldan to keep. If you want my help, you’ll need to give me more details about this friend of his.” Mathias scowled. “Aron was a cleric that my family petitioned to come and stay at our estate and tend to Tris. He had a flareup a few years ago—” the memory made his throat thick, “and we were out of other options. Tristifer was close to him. When Aron left and made his way here to assist the Mendevian efforts…” He trailed off.  Daeran’s face, in all its gleaming malignancy, was inscrutable. Mathias could only imagine that he was concocting some cruel insult behind his eyes, waiting for Mathias to be caught vulnerable and off-guard and ready to deliver the killing blow. A battlefield, Mathias reminded himself as he shifted in place one more.  “I suppose a Taldan wouldn’t give as much thought to the stories about their goddess’s closeness with Desna and Saranrae,” Daeran taunted, “so I suppose, in all my magnanimity, I am the one now teaching a religious lesson. Go to the temple of Desna and speak with Ramien. Assuming your cleric friend hasn’t taken my place, he should be able to point you in the right direction.”

another little wip from my mathias longfic <3

[hadesisqueer]

Every time I remember that Korra canonically provoked a gay revolution in the Water Tribes by being openly bi because they started questioning the idea of “keeping it private” and started to come out, and that Eska and Desna legalized same-sex marriage in the Northern Water Tribe and even attend weddings to show support I laugh. Idk. Imagine you're just going to your brother's wedding and you see the chiefs just chilling there in front row.

[frostyyyroyalmilktea]

Morpheus x Reader High School AU

Summary:

A little High School AU where the reader gets stood at prom, but once her charmingly awkward classmate gets the wind of this, he decides that he just has to be the one to save her evening.

No warnings apply

author's notes: in this au Morpheus and his siblings moved to the US with their dad after their parents got a divorce. I headcanon them to be around 17-18 for Morpheus and Death, and around 15-16 for Desire. I had to adapt their names for the modern world so Death is Desna in this AU and Desire is Desirée.

For now, it's just a little oneshot, but if I have any good ideas for this AU I might write another part in the future.

When I was writing this I headcanoned that reader has pink hair, but you can imagine any other eye-catching haircolor you prefer ;)

Title inspired by Steve Lacy's Bad Habit but the song is not particularly relevant to the story, I just liked the vibes

Hope you enjoy!

***

“Morpheus!!” Desna—once again—barges into his room without knocking. She is the only one of his siblings to be granted such a privilege. Desirée on the other hand has learned the hard way to always knock and to never enter Morpheus’ quarters without an explicitly extended invitation.

“Sister dearest,” Morpheus acknowledges flatly, without looking up from his book.

“Do you have a suit?” Desna asks with a somewhat manic edge to her voice.

“Indeed I do,” Morpheus replies absentmindedly, engrossed in his reading. “For funerals and such.”

“Great!” Desna claps her hands. “You always look nice at funerals.”

Morpheus sighs, places a bookmark on the page he was reading, and carefully closes the book. Once he looks up, he can immediately tell from the look on her face that Desna has her mind set on some sort of questionable scheme and that Morpheus will be dragged into it regardless of his opinion on the matter.

“You’ll need to buy a corsage too, and fast,” Desna mumbles to herself, pacing the room back and forth.

“Not this again,” Morpheus rolls his eyes with a sigh. “Desna, I have repeatedly informed you that I am not going to prom. I have been asked out on multiple occasions and I refused as I do not wish to attend.”

“That’s because you were asked by the wrong people,” Desna scoffs dismissively.

“The only person I would like to take already has a date,” Morpheus grunts.

His sister clicks her tongue, exuding some type of emotion Morpheus struggles to interpret. “Not anymore,” she says.

“I beg your pardon?” Morpheus asks, raising his brow skeptically. “There is,” he checks his watch, “less than three hours left till the start of the main event, so unless Trevor Birghin’s lifeless body is lying somewhere in a ditch, I can’t imagine a good enough reason for him to not show up.”

“Well,” Desna starts hesitantly, as if she's approaching a wild animal. “It’s not that he won’t show up exactly…”

“Desna,” Morpheus presses with a chilling edge to his tone.

“It’s just that I overheard Trevor and Danny yesterday, and they were talking about who’s taking who to prom and all that…” 

Desna takes a deep breath and proceeds to explain—in the most convoluted way imaginable no less—the trite and simple fact Morpheus was always all too well aware of: Trevor Birghin is a fucking asswipe.

“...and that’s when I remembered that at the start of the term,” Desna continues with her tortuous explanation, “Trevor said that he would love to take Christina to prom because, like, the whole quarterback/cheerleader thing, but she told him no because she wanted to ask someone else,” Desna gives Morpheus a pointed look, “but then she got rejected by that someone.”

“Are you implying any of this is my fault?” Morpheus asks, offended. “I have met oatmeal more capable of a riveting conversation than that girl. Can you blame me for not wanting to spend an entire evening in the company of her and her degenerate friends?”

“It’s not what I'm—” Desna starts. “I’m getting to the important bit, Morpheus, I promise. So Christina said no to Trevor, so he was forced—his words, not mine—to ask y/n because they kind of have a thing or whatever, I’m not entirely sure. But now that you rejected Christina, she decided to go with Trevor after all and so that leaves y/n dateless.”

Morpheus’ blood is boiling with righteous anger. He is not usually a violent person, but for someone like Birghin, he will be more than happy to make an exception.

“And I’m afraid that’s not the worst of it, love,” Desna adds quietly, almost apologetically.

“I’m struggling to come up with something that could possibly make this situation worse,” Morpheus grits.

“I’m like 99.9% confident that Trevor didn’t have the guts to actually tell y/n.”

Morpheus inhales sharply. “So, just to be clear, you’re saying that she is about to show up there without knowing that her date stood her up for another girl?”

“Mhm,” Desna hums, not meeting his eyes.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell her?!”

“And how exactly would that look, Morpheus?” Desna bites out. “I’m not even supposed to know about any of this. I don’t want to look like some nosy busybody.”

“While being one beyond any reasonable doubt,” Morpheus grumbles under his breath.

“Plus,” Desna adds, “I honestly think that y/n needs to clearly see the piece of trash that he is once and for all. She’s always trying to see the best in people, even when there isn’t anything decent there in the first place!”

Desna sounds genuinely distraught so just this once Morpheus decides against reminding her about maintaining personal boundaries of the people she barely knows. It’s not because he has a personal stake in all of this or anything like that, no.

“Why are you telling me this?” Morpheus asks, surrendering to the idea that there is no way he’s not going to involve himself now that he has all the facts.

Desna tsks, like she’s disappointed he even has to ask. “Morpheus, you know perfectly well why I'm telling you all this. You’ve been mooning over y/n since our first day at this school.”

“And she was evidently not interested,” Morpheus points out bitterly, “seeing how she went and got herself a thing, as you so eloquently put it.”

Desna flops down on the bed next to him, throwing her hand around his shoulders in a half-hug. “Morphey, darling,” she says softly, “that’s a load of absolute fucking bullshit. Anyone who had the misfortune to witness the two of you debate against each other in AP Lit felt like the biggest third wheel on this side of the Atlantic. This unresolved romantic tension makes people around you viscerally uncomfortable. Though I can’t exactly blame y/n for not asking you out. You did quite rudely reject—how many was it again, four or five—girls our first semester alone. I think you even made Mary Waylan cry.”

“Wonderful insight,” Morpheus deadpans. “Still doesn’t mean y/n likes me back.”

“Morpheus,” Desna sighs. “She always sits next to you in classes you share. Even the ones Trevor is in too.”

“Well, he’s an idiot and we get a lot of group projects as homework,” Morpheus argues weakly.

Desna rolls her eyes more dramatically than usual. “She remembered your birthday after I mentioned it once in passing, she got you an old-ass Lovecraft anthology for the said birthday, which made you possibly the happiest I have ever seen you in my entire life. She brings you coffee every Monday when you have calc together first thing in the morning because she knows you never go to bed before two am. She remembers all your odd opinions on Shakespeare and can refer to them months later, just to make a point to you about some poncy literary concept. She always says hi to you in the hallway even though you never reply and most people just think you’re just a pretentious brat, but I’m pretty sure she cracked you like a week after she met you and she’s in on the secret that you’re just painfully awkward when it comes to human interaction—”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Morpheus stands up, throwing Desna’s hand off himself. 

“I’ll need to borrow your garment steamer later,” he grumbles, grabbing his wallet and car keys.

“I’ll see you at the venue, sweetie!” Morpheus hears his sister yell after him as he leaves the house and heads for the flower shop.

***

You stand in front of the entrance to a fancy-ass hotel, staring at your phone with a mix of incredulity and rage. This piece of human garbage only deigned to inform you that he can’t be your prom date mere fucking minutes before you arrived at the venue.

from: Trev🏈

hey quick change of plans

decided to go with the boys as a group

hope there’s no hard feelings, see ya at school😜

What the fuck is that even supposed to mean? All his friends from the team had dates last time you checked. 

You open Instagram and swipe through the stories of a few girls you know from his friend group. Just as you expected, they all are still very much going with Trevor’s teammates.

If you’re being completely honest with yourself, it’s not like you’re even all that heartbroken over Trevor’s general shittiness right now. He hurt your pride, obviously, but not really your feelings. Right from the start of your situationship with him, he was barely more than a poor substitute for the person you actually wanted. Going with Trevor felt like a safe bet at the time because the idea that the person you actually wanted to go with would say yes seemed like an absolute pipe dream.

But you didn’t even ask Morpheus, the treacherous voice inside your head reminds unhelpfully. You convinced yourself you were doing the smart thing here, avoiding guaranteed heartache and embarrassment of being one of the girls he rejected. Right now, though, it becomes harder and harder to ignore the fact that you might've just been a coward.

Morpheus is probably sitting in some high-end coffee shop right now, reading Kaffka, or something equally pretentious, being all dark and handsome and utterly unapproachable. Definitely not caring about your inner turmoil about a stupid high school prom.

Someone goes in at that moment and through the open door you hear a faint reverberation of the song playing in the main hall.

“Yeah, I am an idiot with a painted face indeed,” you say to no one in particular.

“Waiting for someone?” A calm deep voice behind you asks.

For a second you genuinely believe that thinking about Morpheus so much gave you some sort of hearing hallucination. You whip your head so fast, you hear a crack in your neck. 

It’s not a hallucination.

“What are you…? How…? You… I…” You ask very eloquently.

The corners of his lips crawl upward as he rather unsuccessfully tries to hold back a smile.

“My sister has informed me of the unpleasant predicament you have found yourself in this evening and I simply couldn’t stand to see a lady wronged in a manner so galling and distasteful.”

“Really?” You ask skeptically, raising an eyebrow at him. “Since when do you care about chivalry of random people's prom dates?”

“I care only about one,” Morpheus says quietly, looking down at his beat-up doc martens. Under the harsh neon lights of the hotel’s facade, you notice the faintest trace of blush on his sharp cheekbones. “About a girl with a hair color so aggravating, my eyes can’t help but be drawn to it the second she enters the room, the girl who can’t help but argue with me over every single stupid little thing, like a font for our biology presentation—”

“Hey! Comic Sans is dyslexia friendly!”

“The girl who completely overestimates the influence of Tolkien on English classical literature.”

“It’s impossible to overestimate!!” You shriek, mentally returning to the argument from two weeks ago that landed the both of you in detention, when Mr. Stevens accused you of purposefully disrupting his class and told the two of you to “get out of his classroom and go flirt in the principal's office”.

Morpheus looks up, meeting your eyes. You can tell he’s thinking about the same thing.

God, why does he need to be so beautiful?

“What I’m getting at here,” he continues, unperturbed, “is that you're not some random person in my life, and I would like nothing more than to be your date tonight. Would you be agreeable to that?”

He holds out his hand and you look down to see a beautiful black rose corsage. Very on-brand for him, you can’t help but smile.

“You’re so stupid, Morpheus,” you sniff, willing your eyes to dry before the tears ruin your makeup. “Of course I fucking want you to be my date, I've never even wanted anyone else to be my date except you in the first place.”

He seems taken aback by that but recovers quickly and starts carefully fastening the corsage onto your outstretched hand.

While he’s busy with it, you try to take a closer look at him. To be fair, even if he showed up in a Hello Kitty onesie, you would still think he is the most gorgeous bastard you’ve ever laid your eyes on, but he’s wearing a tailored black suit with a black turtleneck underneath and—oh god, his little pocket square is baby pink to match your dress!! This is literally the first time you see him wear something not black and he wore it for you. You just might explode from feelings™ right now.

When he’s done with the corsage, he doesn’t let go of your hand, but intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls the door open for you with his other hand. “After you, m’lady.”

This doesn’t fucking feel real. Maybe, you think frantically, you just inhaled too much hairspray while you were getting ready and this is all a delirious dream. Except the warmth of his hand in yours is very real and so are the double takes from your classmates milling around in the hotel lobby.

“Do you want to take a photo before we go in?” Morpheus asks, nodding at the huge full-length mirrors along the wall.

You blink at him dazedly before the question registers. “Yeah! Sure, yeah, let me just—”

You start rummaging around your purse in search of a phone when you realize it’s literally in your hand.

Morpheus smiles, amused.

“You enjoying this then?” You want to sound irritated but it comes out more…petulant. “Me making an idiot out of myself entertains you?”

“I just like looking at you,” Morpheus says simply. “Is that such a crime? Your emotions are always so…scintillating. I find it impossible to look away.”

How can he just say shit like that and be 100% serious while doing it, you think, while desperately trying to will your face into not going red as a fucking firetruck.

What a beautiful, brilliant weirdo.

“Yeah, okay, Mr. Thesaurus, we get it, you like me,” you croak awkwardly, opening the camera app. “Let’s take some pictures, I’ll need them for the PowerPoint presentation my mom will expect on how I ended up going to prom with a completely different guy than I initially told her.”

“I hope there’s a word amelioration somewhere in the title of that presentation,” Morpheus teases as he stands behind, wrapping his arms around you to pose for the picture.

You snort at the implication, relaxing into his embrace.

***

The photos come out very nice. Though with a face like his, there’s hardly a chance Morpheus could look bad in them. You don’t always like taking photos of yourself, but surprisingly you like most of the ones you took together Morpheus. Some of them are silly, with the two of you making faces, some are very prom-ish looking, perfect for showing your parents, and then there’s…

“This one,” Morpheus catches your wrist before you can swipe to the next photo. “I like this one. Can you send it to me?”

In the photo, you’re looking past the camera, at Morpheus’ reflection as he holds you gently in his arms.

“I look silly in this one,” you pout. 

Bessoted would be a better word to describe your expression in the photo, but you’d rather lick chalk than admit it to him.

He doesn’t need you to, though. Morpheus looks at you knowingly, “No you don’t.”

You look down at your phone, feeling your cheeks going hot again. “How would I even send it to you?” You grumble just to be contrary. “With pigeon post? Gosh, who even has a phone with buttons anymore, aside from, like, grandpas? No, you know, scratch that. My grandpa actually has an iPhone 7.”

Morpheus just smiles at you indulgently. “Send it to my sister, she’ll print it out for me.”

Ridiculous. He’s absolutely ridiculous, you think as you type out the message to Desna.

to: Desna 🌸🔪

Local elderly citizen requires your assistance in procuring a photograph

attached file: ridiculousman.png

from: Desna 🌸🔪

you guys are so cuuuuuteeee!!!! 

٩(❀ •̀ᴗ•́ )۶~♡

Desna has a tendency to text as if it’s 2010 and her enthusiasm can be terrifying and a bit overwhelming sometimes but she’s one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met. You’re tempted to ask how the hell did she know Trevor was gonna bail on you tonight, but in the end, you decide that you don’t really give a shit. The only thing that matters is the outcome and looking at Morpheus fumbling with the tickets—he printed out the QR codes on an actual piece of paper because he’s a literal grandpa—you think that the outcome has literally exceeded all your expectations. Come to think of it, you should probably send Desna a fruit basket or something. 

***

author's note: I'm still not over the fact that Tom Sturridge has a phone with buttons and without access to the internet😂 Good for him though, I hope he's thriving

[dujour13]

12, 22, and 36!

-Yunessa

Thanks for the ask @yunessa! I was hesitating to do this ask game but these were really fun ones for Siavash. Anger and regret aren't his vibe and yet...

12. What are some of your character's pet peeves?

Siavash is really pretty chill, and as a diplomat and squishy bard he avoids conflict, but there are a few behaviors that put him off, such as petty cruelty and throwing wealth around (not looking at anyone specific Count, why do you ask?), as well as being pushed around and told what to do and how to do it (cough Regill cough).

It comes down to hating injustice, and having a personal struggle with feeling like a disappointing deadbeat most of his life when he’s just doing things his way.

22. What regrets do they have, if any? (From any part of the story, not just exposition.)

Surprisingly few for someone this impulsive, but Desna’s luck does seem to be on his side. His greatest regrets are always some variation on having let someone down: not having done enough for them, or not having shown them that he loved them, or just not living up to what would have made them happy.

He regrets not having been there for Kristov and not taking him seriously when he voiced his discontent. He regrets not having connected with Camellia or Wenduag enough to set them on a less destructive path. He regrets having blamed Galfrey. He regrets not living up to his dad’s expectations of him as a musician.

And yet he regrets nothing, because he always follows his heart. He couldn’t have lived tied down to Kristov. He couldn’t have made amends with people like Camellia and Wenduag if they didn’t meet him in the middle. He was right to blame Galfrey, she said it herself. He became a great bard in his own way without the classical musical training. There’s a contradiction - a tension in his mind about this, a sense of guilt for unapologetically being who he is. It doesn’t make sense but he feels it anyway.

36. What are the things that make your character enter a full rage/cold mode? (Depends on their character.)

This one takes the pet peeves a step further: injustice and authoritarianism, as well as treating people like objects.

Siavash in “full rage” is a contradiction in terms. Impossible to imagine. It’s not so much violent fury as being pushed into action: I will now have to fix this. You were looking for trouble, you found it.

Not to go into a whole list of the things that tilt him but take the Fleshmarket. He was so done with the Abyss at that point, having gone through Latverk, the Battlebliss, and Ygefeles, among other things, and then someone KIDNAPPED AIVU. He just lost it.

But the way in which he loses it is to get up in front of a whole city full of demons and threaten to dismantle their slave market. And then he does. If they get in his way, that’s on them.

(There’s um. a bit of this in West Wind.)