#i still need to actually figure out what Mala looks like

[razzberrydazz]

OC Meme - get to know Rana

Got tagged by @mynthara to do this oc info meme, tagging uhhh anyone else who wants to do this if ya want (@larissel I choose you if ya wanna blab about Nashira :3)

I put a readmore for possible game spoilers ahead for BG3, and for potential content warnings (mentions of Dark Urge antics, kink dynamics, and brief mentions of SA), cuz Rana's life pre-tadpole was Not a happy one. Enjoy all the pics of Rana I stuffed into this!

BASICS

Full Name (pre-tadpole): Rana the Gray, ie the Bladedancer, ie The Dark Urge, ie The Red-Eyed Dagger

(Rana loosely translates to Lesser End/Minor Destruction in Drow)

Full Name (post-tadpole): Rana'rox La'Rouge, ie Rana, ie Durge

Gender: Nonbinary/Agender

Sexuality: Pan

Pronouns: They/It (They/Them for Rana, it/its for their Urge)

Age: Mid 40s? Rana doesn't quite remember how old they are.

OTHER

Family: Bhaal (progenitor), Orin the Red (Half-Sister, Bhaalspawn Bloodkin), Mala (Rana's daughter - a product of SA and incest - that they had smuggled away as soon as she was weaned, in order to protect her from the Bhaalist cult and from their Dark Urge; Mala ended up adopted by Jaheira and her family. Mala loosely translates to Secret Breaker in Drow)

Other family: Adopted drow (seldarine) mother called Rox La'Rouge (deceased, killed by the Dark Urge), a pet Displacer Beast called Chewy (deceased), a human man called Rook Haven (deceased, killed by the Dark Urge) who was the ringleader for a traveling circus called the Raucous Rooks (all members killed by the Dark Urge when the Urge first fully manifested in Rana), and several unnamed children both deceased and surviving as Bhaalists (Rana doesn't remember them, the Brain Trauma is Strong).

Birthplace: Spawned in the Cloakwood forest near Baldur's Gate, then found and raised by Rox La'Rouge and the Raucous Rooks circus shortly after.

Job: Originally a bard and acrobat in the Raucous Rooks circus, then became a Bhaalist assassin, then the leader of the Bhaalist cult in Baldur's Gate, then during the events of BG3 acts as an altruistic adventurer. Rana hopes to one day join a new carnival or circus as a clown or daredevil acrobat.

Phobias: Succumbing to the Urge, Pregnancy (Ironically has a breeding kink), The color Red (specifically when it's the Urge), loss of control, succumbing to insanity.

Hobbies: Rana works to teach themself Drow (they never learned to speak it fluently as a kid, and are trying to catch up in adulthood), and other languages in their free time, and write in their journal extensively. They enjoy collecting and sharpening daggers, sword swallowing, juggling, reading, dancing, singing, and playing instruments such as the lyre and lute. They also like trying new clothes and learning new rope-tying techniques.

MORALS

Alignment: Chaotic Good - Rana will go out of their way to do what they believe is good, laws and consequences be damned, if only to counteract their Urges. Sometimes that involves killing someone doing a great wrong, or breaking into buildings to steal food to feed the hungry, or intimidating guards into turning a blind eye to someone just trying to survive, or purposely isolating themselves from others so as to not hurt anyone.

Sins: Wrath (the Urge), Lust, Envy

Virtues: Patience, Courage, Kindness

Introvert / Extrovert / Ambivert

Organized / Disorganized (memory problems)

Close-minded / Open-minded

Calm / Anxious / Restless

Disagreeable / Agreeable / In between

Cautious / Reckless / In between (save yourself I'll hold them back)

Patient / Impatient / In between

Outspoken / Reserved / In between

Leader / Follower / Flexible

Empathetic / Unempathetic / In between

Optimist / Pessimist / Realist

Traditional / Modern / In between

Hard-working / Lazy

OTP: Shadowheart, Minthara, and Lae'Zel (Rana is polyamorous and kinky, and wants to share and be shared with their partners. In an ideal situation, they act as service top and Submissive in a D/S dynamic with Minthara, Shadowheart, and Lae'Zel; Minthara also acts as the Domme of Shadowheart, Lae'Zel, and Karlach. Minthara only agrees to this dynamic if it's a Hierarchical relationship with her at the top.)

Acceptable Ships: Karlach, Halsin, Astarion, Dame Aylin and Isobel, and Abdirak (If Shadowheart and/or Minthara give Rana permission, they'll happily be with other people)

OT3: In a polycule with the entire party (Rana wants to get passed around like a blunt)

Brotp: Karlach, Wyll, Minsc, Astarion, Gale

Notps: Jaheira (sees Jaheira as a mother/grandmother/mentor figure, but is entirely willing to platonically help Jaheira with her kids, considering they find out Jaheira's the one who adopted Mala ie Rana's daughter),

Gortash (Rana's ex-boyfriend from before the tadpole amnesia, whom enabled their Urges and vices. Rana wishes things could have gone differently, they saw potential in Gortash, and mourn what could have been had he not turned to tyranny and extortion. They resent him for what he did to Karlach, but can't bring themself to hate him, because in his own ways he managed to help them by crafting a prosthetic eye specially made for them, and they at one point held some strange distorted love for each other),

Orin (not only did Orin give Rana the brain trauma and tadpole that resulted in their amnesia, but Orin also SA'd Rana during the time before they became head of the Bhaalist cult, which resulted in Rana going into hiding for a year and a half to have their daughter Mala and smuggle her away to a family that would protect her. Rana feared what would've happened if they raised a child within the cult, knowing the traumatic hell of Orin's own incestuous conception and cult upbringing. There was a high likelihood they would have killed the child due to the Urge, if they kept Mala within the cult. Even so, the good still in Rana wanted to find a way to forgive Orin, and drag her out of the cult kicking and screaming. If they could have found a way to renounce Bhaal without being forced to kill Orin, they would. Alas, they couldn't find a way to save their bloodkin from the lash of Bhaal.)

Raphael (Rana already felt like their soul was forfeit by virtue of being a Bhaalspawn, they're loathe to chain themself to a manipulative devil as well, even though they find his honeyed words alluring and the idea of being a devil's plaything is...not entirely unappealing for someone who enjoys being a service submissive like Rana.)

Link to the lil dagger dividers I used for this post

[aihoshiino]

chapter 155 thoughts

Thanks for your patience! I had some stuff crop up IRL this week that kept getting in the way of my chapter review but we're so oshi no back

Chapters Since The 143 Kiss Happened And Went Entirely Unacknowledged And Unaddressed Count: 12

Aqua Hoshigan Status: White

i can't believe toxic yuri was the real core theme of this manga all along

With the long road to revenge seemingly conquered, Oshi no Ko eases us into a bit of a false high before the real finale comes barrelling in. As with 152, it feels like we're tying off a number of arcs that have lasted through the series, with certain characters getting what is clearly supposed to be their big emotional resolutions… and unfortunately, as with 153-4, while a lot of these beats are satisfying on paper, they suffer a lack of buildup that makes them ring a bit hollow. OnK's clumsy handling of certain characters during the Movie Arc has really come back to bite it during the finale, leaving me feeling like a lot of the emotional payoffs for them are undercut and the character work they're doing doesn't have the groundwork it needs to properly resonate. I defo didn't hate this chapter like some folks seemed to, but it has some pretty substantial issues in terms of micro and macro storytelling I am compelled to talk about. This is one of those chapter reviews I think comes across way more negative than it necessarily is lol but man did this one give me a headache…

To start things off, the thing that initially delayed this review: page fucking one!!! By total coincidence, this was the first chapter in basically forever where I didn't get a chance to look at the JP raws until like two days after it dropped and as such I was ripping my hair out trying to figure out who the narrator was on page one - the use of 'Mama' made me wonder if it was Ruby, but the visual flow of the page is much more biased in favor of Aqua and I probably don't need to tell you how fucking huge it would be for Aqua to have called Ai that for the first time!!! However, based on the speech patterns of the speaker in Japanese and the way subsequent pages flow from this intro, I'm pretty settled on it being Ruby - this chapter is a sort of closing of the book on her involvement in the revenge play or as my friend Mala put it, it's Ruby's homecoming so to speak. And like… honestly, thank god lol.

I get a lot of Ruby fans have wanted her to be more involved in this side of the story for a good while but I think the Black Hoshigan Ruby arc playing out like it did made it pretty clear that Ruby as a character is not super well suited to playing a role in the revenge half of OnK in the way that Akasaka wants it to be written. Not just that, but her actual post-BH characterization in relation to this arc has been such a wet fart that I really think it has taken away a lot more than it has added to her arc.

Not only that but… most of it didn't even happen onscreen lol! Not only did we get that absolutely baffling speech in 147 where she literally looked into the camera and Explained With Her Words the character arc she was supposedly having this whole time (just offscreen and nowhere the reader could see) but we now get Aqua going "well ruby decided to forgive him so it is what it is i guess". It feels so limp as a reason for him to have flipped on a dime like he did, especially when we still haven't fucking seen this supposedly lifechanging performance of Ruby's!!!! SO many characters have the resolutions to their Ai-adjacent arcs connected to how Ruby chose to play Ai in the movie but we're not actually seeing it. We're just sort of talking around it and having it exposited to us. I want to assume this is setup for us eventually seeing it ourselves but like… at this point, IS there any point to us revisiting the movie's content? Everything we might have learned from it has already been addressed by characters Telling Us To Our Faces How It Made Them Feel And Gave Them Therapy so it would ultimately be superfluous.

God. I hate still bitching about the Movie Arc now we're out of it, but it really is the albatross around the neck of this finale. So many of the issues littered through these last ten or so chapters are the result of the Movie Arc's fumbling and misuse of the cast and its failure to establish the emotional throughlines that should have been tied off by these chapters. I keep feeling like I'm repeating myself when I talk about XYZ Narrative Beat not being bad on paper but being less effective than it should do because of lacking underlying foundation but it really is the one central thing plaguing this arc right now.

i get what you guys are going for but. seeing aqua just let kamiki walk away when he has definitely killed people is really funny.

The twins' return to Miyako is another moment that I like in theory but honestly just feels frustrating. It's been over 25 chapters - a week short of an entire year since 125 came out where Miyako lamented her inability to reach the twins like a 'real' mother would and this thread was immediately dropped like a rock. She had zero involvement in the Movie Arc even during parts it was straight up absurd that she was not at least reacting to the events going on, didn't have any reaction to the movie or like… anything going on that could have more organically lead to this development.

I also have to say. The twins returning to Miyako performing this Snapshot of Aesthetic Motherhood (as u/DeliSoupItExplodes on the OnK sub put it) felt kind of. Weird and even a little icky to me in a way I've been struggling to articulate. Just that it felt extremely on the nose and kind of. eeeh.

that said. i won't pretend i'm not 4x critically weak to an 'okaeri' / 'tadaima' exchange at the end of a long quest or journey…

For all my complaints about the surrounding context, this scene in isolation is pretty much the one part of this chapter that just uncritically works. It's hard not to read it as a parallel to Miyako offering to adopt the kids in chapter 10 - except there, Aqua refuses to step into his new family. Here, Miyako pulls him into the embrace and the two of them finally engage not as peers but as a mother and son, as they've needed to do all this time. Her words here are so lovely and so, so sincere that it's really no wonder Aqua breaks down in tears. As much as I've bitched about the lacking work in his arc across the last major chunk of chapters, it's nevertheless been incredibly cathartic to see Aqua finally start letting down his walls, believing in his future and letting people love him. I just wish it had the buildup to really land.

also the twins just… still have not had a real conversation or interaction about literally anything lol.

Ichigo's back…! I already aired my major complaint about this scene vis-a-vis Ruby but I imagine this is the last time we're going to get a real Moment with Ichigo so I might as well get this off my chest now: it was and continues to be utterly bonkers to me that of the characters we saw having Feelings about the 15 Year Lie cast screening, Ichigo was not one of them. And it's even more bonkers that we got this whole bit waxing poetic about fucking Kaburagi and how he feels soooo bad about Ai when like… I'm sorry, but Kaburagi's feelings about Ai are so low on my list of priorities as to be functionally irrelevant. Quite frankly, he does not matter and it's INSANE that the story gave this misty-eyed moment to him and not Ichigo - you know, the agent of the industry that went on to exploit and kill her, her literal, actual dad whose guilt over what happened to her made him ghost his family for nearly twenty years? Can you imagine what an insanely powerful moment of resolution it would've been for that moment of Kaburagi addressing Ai through the 15YL poster to have gone to Ichigo instead?

I also have to note this weird ongoing thread of 'the Dome' being framed as Ai's dream that Ruby is inheriting when it, uh, patently was not! I'm sure she felt some pride in her success but all she herself said on the matter back when it came up was that she didn't get what a big deal it was but that since everyone else was happy, she'd be happy too. I initially took this to be laying the groundwork to disprove this idea and make the characters work out what Ai really wanted in her heart of hearts but now the narrative seems to just be uncritically treating this as a value neutral fact. So… who even knows lol.

Short hair Akane returns…! I don't imagine it was planned, but it's a cute coincidence that she cut her hair in the manga right around the time anime Akane grew hers out for season 2. I've always liked short hair Akane best so this was a nice surprise…

I have to say it was uh, really funny to see so many people get so shocked and mad when Akane talked about 'imitating Hoshino Ai' and screaming that this was a retcon or ruining Akane's character when like… was this really news to you guys??? Even before she grew her hair out, she flipped her bangs to go in the same direction as Ai's as soon as she started acting as her and she was popping hoshigans all over the place when she was getting her career off the ground… like, seriously, was this really a shock to people???

Anyway uh. Vindication for me from this scene!!! I've been pointing out for over a year now that we should be very cautious about taking it at face value that Hikaru killed Gorou and Yura because the story has been very delicately implying that to be the case while avoiding confirming it outright in a way that reeked of a red herring to me. That combined with his failure to even mention these two victims while 'fessing up to Aqua really raised some additional red flags for me and finally, we see Aqua confirming that no, Hikaru was not the one person behind everything, Light Yagami style and the final boss of the series seems set to be B-Komachi's former Queen of Smiles. Fuyuko Niino.

And Iiiiiiiii… feel very uneasy about this twist!

First of all; I have to acknowledge that nope, we have no fuckin clue how either Aqua or Akane figured this out but we'll probably get the exposition in that regard over and done with next chapter. Also something a lot of people caught is that Ryosuke is referred to with a different name here - Sugano vs Kaihara, which was used during the Movie Arc. I've heard this called out as a mistake/retcon and it could be, but tbh I'm inclined to think it's just that Ryosuke's name was changed for the movie, since a point is made about needing everyone's permission to include them in the movie and they, uh… can't exactly ask Ryosuke!

But… back to the real point here.

Nino has been one of my favourite OnK characters since I first read 45510 and every subsequent expansion on her character and her relationship with Ai has only made me more invested in her. But the story setting her up as the final villain here is… it leaves me feeling a little cold and very uncertain about how it'll go.

First off, the framing of Nino on these last two pages is just so overwrought that it's a little ridiculous lol. The image of her squatting in her filthy room, listening to old B-Komachi tracks and staring at a poster of the old group with all the other members but her and Ai aggressively scribbled out… it feels downright parodic to an extent that I think honestly makes Nino that much less nuanced and human by its inclusion alone.

Like… a big part of what I loved about Nino's inclusion in the story and how her relationship with Ai was framed was that it was messy and honest in a way that felt like it wasn't judging Nino herself or making her out to be a villain. Her and Ai's relationship breakdown was a two-sided failure of communication spurred on in large part by Ai's own avoidance and inability to have frank, sincere discussions with the people who cared about her. Nino's tangled up feelings of admiration and desire, envy and resentment, love and hate were not flattering but they felt so real and so human. She was a young girl put into an impossible situation and without the power to change the invisible dynamics of the systems around her, she lashed out at the person in front of her that she could see. The impression I always got was that part of what so deeply fucked up her feelings about Ai was her lack of closure - that she had never gotten to say sorry or patch things up. That she had screamed I wish you'd die at someone she loved and then she fucking died. No wonder she was a mess.

All this though… maybe I'm overreacting when we're just a page and a half into this reveal but again, the framing here really does feel so exaggerated and shallow. It feels like it's falling into the trap OnK previously fell into with the GRSR relationship where it attempts to amp up the drama by massively overexagerrating the emotions at play, blowing them up to their hugest possible extreme and letting all nuance and subtlety get lost in the noise. Ultimately, this will all come down to execution and while it's possible for AkaMengo to get us back on track with the Nino I already liked… idk. Like I said. I'm uneasy.

I also can't let it go unsaid - accidentally or otherwise, the framing of Nino here leans extremely hard into the stereotype of the 'psycho'/predatory lesbian and I don't think I need to explain why that sucks donkey nuts, especially in the midst of a manga that is so insufferably hetero at all other times.

at least she has good taste in b-komachi tracks.

[mariaofdoranelle]

Hiiiii for your drabelfest can i have a jealous ex chaol???

Lost the Breakup

Written for my Drabblefest

Nonnie, you absolutely can. I’m addicted to Maisie Peters’ new album, so I took some inspiration from it if you don’t mind heheheh

Also, I wasn’t clear in the post but the Drabblefest legislator (me) is adamant about writing for every single ask I receive!! with very few exceptions that involve creepy illegal stuff. but i’m okay with writing fun illegal stuff like drugs or murder. allegedly. don’t look at me, fbi agent.

Warnings: language, this fic isn’t Chaol-friendly

1k words

⨯ ⁺ ✦ ･ ｡ﾟ⨯ ﾟ♡ ✧* ･｡* ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

If anyone asked Aelin why she was sitting at a bar tonight, she wouldn’t know how to explain it. At least not without telling that last month she got the news that she’s not exciting and her boyfriend—now ex—isn’t in love anymore.

What she did know is that she must look pathetic having a drink by herself—which was definitely not the plan when Fenrys said he’d find someone to make her ex jealous. She sighed and texted her friend.

Aelin: where the hell is your himbo

Fen: on his way

Fen: just so you know

Fen: i picked him for his height and hotness

Fen: not his personality

Aelin: you’ll owe me one if he’s boring

Fen: i’m literally saving your ass

“Hey,” a highly familiar voice said when Aelin was texting a snarky response. “it’s been forever.”

“Hi,” Aelin gave him a taut smile. “what a coincidence.”

And by that, she meant what a coincidence that after stalking every college bar you go to on Instagram, checking which posts with daily plans you and your friends liked, and narrowing it down to two options, we ended up in the same place at the same time.

“So…” Chaol cleared his throat. “you wanna get a drink? Like, together.”

When Aelin opened her mouth to say no, a guy she recognized from the football team—Ronan? Roman?—put his arm around her shoulder and looked down at Chaol.

“Babe.” He cocked his head, looking down at Chaol. “Is he bothering you?”

Still sitting on her stool, Aelin leaned her head against Ronan’s torso, sent Chaol a fake apologetic look and said, “I’m kinda busy, but thanks.”

“Sure.” Chaol gave them a stiff nod. His jaw was tight, his movements unnaturally smooth as he walked away with clenched hands on his sides.

Dear Mala, it looked a lot like Aelin was about to win the breakup.

Ronan’s eyes were squinted at Chaol as her ex walked out. “The way Fenrys begged me to come here to make him jealous made me think he’d at least be hot.”

Aelin opened her mouth with a retort ready, but closed it again when something clicked “What do you mean Fenrys begged you to come?”

“I only came when he made it clear he was asking for a favor, not playing matchmaker.”

Aelin sipped her Moscow Mule, trying to figure Ronan out. “You won’t have a date with a girl unless it’s to make her ex jealous?”

He snorted. “Not a date Fenrys finds me, no.”

After brief introductions and a round of drinks, Aelin found out his name was actually Rowan, not her other guesses. She was so close, but the roll her tongue did while pronouncing his actual name made it much sexier.

Also, she made a mental note to thank Fenrys later. She asked for a usual hot guy, and her friend sent her the gods’ favorite soldier, built like an ancient warrior.

“Tell me how this short man broke your heart.”

Aelin wrinkled her nose. What a way to burst her horny bubble.

“He told me a month ago that he was bored in our relationship, and—“

“And?” Rowan’s tone was surprised, his eyebrows raised. “He insulted your charity work, and there’s more?”

Aelin groaned with her head in her hands, then focused back on Rowan. “We decided to take a break, and two days later Chaol’s ex told me he’d been hitting on her for a week.”

“Guilty of attempted cheating. He’s a piece of shit.” Rowan leaned closer to her. “And if you want, I can, you know…” he sneaked a look at Chaol's way and cracked his knuckles.

“No need, but thanks.” Aelin squeezed his forearm, a laugh almost bursting out of her. “I’m flattered, though.”

Rowan’s eyes widened. “I wasn’t being serious.”

“I doubt that.” She gave him a mischievous smile. “But you can be serious about dancing with me.”

Rowan’s face was starting to twist into a grimace when he stopped and looked at where her hand touched his skin. When he looked back up, something in his eyes had shifted.

He turned his palm up, held her wrist, pulled her close and whispered to her ear, “His friends are watching us, wanna give them something to look at?”

“We should make out.” Aelin licked her lips, taking his ravenous eyes in. “In the name of torturing exes, that is.”

Before she knew it, Rowan took her mouth as if he owned it.

He held her face and neck with both hands, and their languorous kiss turned into something much more fervent when he got up and pressed her against the bar counter.

She burned from the inside out with every flick of his tongue, Rowan luring her into a passionate haze where there was nothing but restless hands, his pine-scented cologne and broad shoulders blocking her from the outside world.

Someone cleared their throat behind Aelin, making them break their kiss. On the other side of the counter, the bartender was watching them with a bored look.

“Do you mind moving over to another place? This area is for ordering drinks.”

They gave him a quick apology and Rowan led her to another part of the bar.

“I can’t see your ex anymore,” he said, looking around while they explored the place. “but his friends are still here.”

Aelin smiled. She hoped she’d pissed Chaol off enough to leave.

“You know what’ll make him go berserk?” Rowan asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

She wiggled her eyebrows. “I’ll do it.”

“If we get out of here together,” he whispered in her ear.

“Fuck, yeah.” Aelin said in a husky tone, her breath heavy as she wrapped her arms around him. “And we should go to my place. My front-door neighbor’s girlfriend’s best friend babysits his little brother.”

Rowan’s parted lips slowly morphed into a smirk. “We can’t lose that opportunity, right?”

“Absolutely not.” Aelin ran her fingers through his hair. “And I think we could do that some other time too. Just for reinforcement.”

Aelin would say she won the breakup, but she barely remembered it as Rowan pulled her face to his again.

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[didalexiabreakupwitholgayet]

I have to admit that I find the collective head loss over low scoring games funny. As an American, I did the exact same thing under Vlatko when our score lines went from 5-0 to 1-0 (if we managed to win). I definitely feel the stress and frustration during the match but I highly recommend everyone go rewatch the match a few hours/days later. The stress comes from the unknown and it makes everything feel 10x worse.

I can definitely see improvement over the first three games. In the moment, I was shocked by how bad Barça was playing in the first game. I rewatched it and it really isn’t that bad, it’s just a true first match of the season. A new coach is going to make it tougher and the team does look different with injuries, arrivals, and departures. Their finishing could definitely use some polishing but a lot of today was the Sevilla keeper having an excellent game and the ball just not falling the right way. Honestly, every time I watch a low scoring match with one keeper being absolutely phenomenal, I get flashbacks of USWNT v Sweden at the World Cup and it does stress me out. An opposing keeper having a good day is one of the most annoying things to experience.

There really haven’t been too many changes to the starting XI but, for some reason, I feel like it changes drastically. I’m hoping Pere can lock in a semi-preferred XI and do more tinkering with the subs. They still need to reintegrate Salma and Irene and figure out their roles. I’m hoping we can see a blowout scoreline (always) whenever Ellie gets cleared because I think subbing into a match would be easiest for her. Kika seems to be settling in to the group well so I’m hoping those connections will help her on the field, though I do see her as more of a sub for this season.

yes, i think this is a fair analysis, anon. in the moment, things always look more dire than they are! 😅

i particularly do not enjoying watching low blocks but it's important to be able to unlock them and it's a skill that will get better and better as the season progresses. aitana has said as much too:

but yes, on rewatch you actually can see some of the problem solving, what combinations are working, what is not working, without the worry of the final result in your mind. and then you can actually see things are not so grim but are more so a work in progress! 🙏

i would not take these criticisms too harshly, anon. yesterday, i saw everything online from pere needs to be sacked to mapi is slow now that she's almost 30 😂

our fandom is extremely critical and we are never satisfied. yes i even saw people wanting us to have beaten lyon by more goals in the champions final. 😵‍💫 it's important to be able to pair criticism with reality vs. perspective. our players will not be at 100% all the time, but that doesn't mean they are bad or cause for concern.

tampoco no he visto nada mala de ella. ona tiene mucho nivel y va a seguir mejorando. y lo del palo? uff! 🙏 pero también necesita descanso todavía la verdad…

[nochi-quinn]

legend of vox machina season 2 episode 8: echo tree OR more like incel tree amirite

sam is the "nice melons" npc bc of course he is

imagine the twins using their old tricks to duck the guards and it doesn't work bc that was over a decade ago

hello Elf Guard Matt

"we're his children" (derogatory)

"I've known many people with money and titles. They are definitely not worth you."

VELORA

the twins are not immune to velora and neither am I

"your father will be pleased to see you" I doubt that

"if you'd notified me you'd be gracing us with your presence" has this man never heard of an emergency

"if you've come for my money - or my goats - I don't have any!" wilhand

"real vestments!" I don't know why that's so adorable to me but here we are

"did you forget to eat??" eating is one of the three things grog actually knows how to do

"hi, pop-pop. I fucked up" me every time I call my parents

"what can syngorn do for you?" directed very specifically at percy, fuck everybody else

oh I just realized he's probably shitty about keyleth too, since she's also a half-elf

a second-generation half-elf, at that

my partner: does he not realize vax is wearing deathwalker's ward me: he doesn't care, that's human shit

"do you have any idea the burden your sudden arrival has caused my family?" I regret to inform you that this is in fact also your family

and now we know what role vex played in this emotional abuse hellpit

"you might just wanna avert your eyes" she literally confirmed that grog's dick didn't get acided off for him

if that's how scanlan 'works both ends' I am terribly sorry for any of his partners

it took me three watches to realize he's whistling Pull My Beads Of Love

percy spending that whole meeting trying desperately to figure out which House he could give to Vex without Cass shanking him

"what does 'fuck you' mean?" little pitchers have big ears

(didn't they on-purpose teach her the word 'shit' in the campaign)

if we get byroden flashbacks are they gonna be exu-compliant

"somehow I feel like it hurt me more" relationships! with! abusive! parents! are! complicated!

ew, tree gunk

he finally called her stubby, I can die happy

I knew where they were going as soon as he said "stimulation"

big "not a good enough reason to use the word 'penetrate'" energy

I enjoy Transition Frog

garmelie: don't submit to his voice vex, already extremely emotionally compromised: ✔✔

look, I don't claim to be a perfect parent, but I don't think I could look at something a child made for me with their own two tiny little hands and just casually break it in front of them

not even just my child. any child.

yeah, come to think of it, even vax doesn't Get It, bc he never wanted syldor's approval, or at least got over the want very quickly.

(fun fact, every time I type or say "syldor" I have to force myself not to say "isildur"

look at this. this is insane. I'm obsessed with this shot.

the feywild is using all of percy's black powder, he better hope victor survived.

I'm glad we got the "if I could pull the blood of him from my veins" line but it was so, so good when she was yelling it at her dad

vax now is not the time to ask keyleth to touch your butt

"dear broken vex'ahlia" if the word 'broken' is literally in your proposal there might be something fucked up about it mb

vex: my heart is someone else's percy: oh? do I know them?

incel tree saundor

"how do you fight a tree?" with a druid

I reluctantly admit him making the arrows out of his palm is pretty cool

I also love a good upside-down arrow shot

vex Jungle Sliding for her life

god I love keyleth so much

the way it springs open inside the stab wound is A+

mala: of course it survived, bc percy 100% expected her to stab a man with it

"he is who he's always been" "I know. and so am I." I am foaming at the mouth over this, at vex knowing she needs to work on parts of herself before she can actually confront her dad

there is SO MUCH nuance and middle ground between "still being actively abused" and "full no-contact" but it's more viscerally satisfying to show the Salt The Earth Behind You fight instead of the long, slow, painful work of attempting reconciliation

tl;dr reconciliation is a thing and I wish more stories used it even though it's complicated and subjective

"I usually hate the theater"

"how did that appear? how did tvs just appear? and really old tvs, based on the make and the year?"

this motherfucker

"he killed me with them" grog backstory GROG BACKSTORY

westruun is my favorite arc okay, I apologize for nothing

[malapropisms-and-nonsequiturs]

EXIT (No. 1)

DISCLAIMER:

This is my first attempt at freewriting after many years of inactivity. A friend provided me with a prompt, and I just let it develop. I edited so it is easy to read, but it's mostly whatever unfiltered crap came out of my head in the moment. So feedback and criticism is more than welcome. Please tear me a new one.

PROMPT: Crimson sky, gun, person sitting by a brown leaved tree.

WARNINGS: Mental health/mentions of suicide/ interaction with psychiatrist/hospitalization/guns/anxiety/medication

Word count: 3.5k

Rating: 18+

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

End of day, finally. The wind blows and it’s drying my lips. I chew them relentlessly like my thoughts chew away at my mind. I come to a stop, finally. Something inside allows me to rest. 

“You walked enough,” echoes in my head, “you’ve managed enough.”, “Enough.”, “Enough.” 

I groan out loud in an effort to shut the loop up before it induces another attack. I sometimes get stuck in these thought loops, they’re like TV commercials, loud and on repeat, and they never sell me what I need.  

I stop by a tree, and I am so stuck in my head that I don’t even realize the color of the leaves. I slide down the trunk, onto my bottom, collecting a considerable number of bugs on my back in the process. The ground is soft, and I don’t feel the cold or damp yet. 

The loop stops as I start looking around, finally. Trees, ground, mushrooms, moss, one, two, three, trees. Good.  

As I’m calming down, I rummage through my backpack and find I brought food. I take a sandwich out of my bag and take my time unpacking it. My teeth sink slowly in the bread. “I make good sandwiches.” I think. I chew less than I should, faster than I should, all patience out the window, and I start feeling it in my chest when I swallow a few superficially masticated mouthfuls. I try to eat slower. 

My head leans back on the trunk. I glance up and I notice with a smile that the leaves of the tree are brown. “Odd.” I look around but everything else is green. I look around, then back up. Brown. The sky creeps between thick, full branches, specks of crimson, alive and playful, seem to be dancing among the leaves. 

My eyes shift perspective and now only the branches and leaves are moving, the sky becoming a static, yet colorful background “I liked it better before.” 

I try to recreate the moment and I succeed briefly before my mind fixates back on my sandwich. “It’s an OK sandwich. Actually, ‘could have been better.” 

I don’t notice right away how pathetic my train of thoughts becomes. I should have continued to stare at the tree and so my food would have continued to taste delicious. Alas, I finish. I am pleased but tormented, nonetheless. Why must I suffer? 

The crimson of the sky darkens, I start to feel ants on my neck. Tiny feet marching on my sweaty scruff. It’s my cue to start walking again. I shake off the bugs, pat at the dampness on my butt and leave. My steps are heavier, but I keep a steady pace. At this point you may wonder who I am and where I am going. “It’s getting late”. I shouldn’t be out, right? 

Right.  

While on my way, I pick some mushrooms and stash them in my backpack.  

The way ahead is darker but quiet still. I slip back into my head where I find you. You’re still there hanging around, curious. The rhythm of my steps, the constant shuffle of the leaves, provides a good immersive environment. Not that I need it anymore, my daydreaming is pathological at this point. “Maladaptive, maladaptive, maladaptive., mala-…" 

We engage in conversation; you take the form of whatever human figure I need in that moment. You’re a friend, or a familiar presence, or so I think.  

I trip and stumble on a patch of raised ground. It’s pitch black, hours must have passed. What did we talk about again? 

I have a flashlight and so I use it. I can finally see where I am going. I become wary and my focus shifts to my surroundings. I tread carefully to not wake whatever’s hiding in the darkness. Like a fox or a bear, I don’t believe in monsters. 

It’s getting colder but I must go on. I must keep moving for now, as dark as it may get. Nothing can make me stop now. I move my flashlight around to peer at what's in my path. Trees, but these are slightly bent at the trunk, they lean into one another, they’re hunched back, like old people.  

My boots keep me warm into the night, my feet thankful in them, snuggled up in two pairs of socks, and covered in Band-Aids. There is no end in sight, no indication of change ahead, and if I met a brown-leaved tree before, now all of them are black, beside the line of sight lit by my flashlight that serves as a ray of emerald hope. 

- 

“So, tell me about yourself.”  

It starts to rain, heavy drops hit my shoulders and the top of my head. I pretend not to notice yet as if that makes me waterproof. 

“I’m not an interesting person.” I respond to the curious character in my head: you. 

“I'm just walking around, looking for the exit.” I tell you nonchalantly, you pretend to care or... I make you seem like you pretend to care.  

“Exit?” you ask bemusedly, as if you did not know already, but you do. How could you not? 

“Well, yes, I’ve been stuck here for a while, and I would like to go back.” 

You pause.  

- 

Have I finally had enough? I realize I am soaked, and the rain is still falling. I swipe a warm hand on my face, brushing off the wetness. Maybe a little bit more. 

Although it’s much colder in the woods at night, it’s still summer, therefore I can endure this slight discomfort for a little bit longer. Moments like these make me wonder if I am relentless at the wrong time.  

“What’s back?” You ask suddenly. “Where is back?” 

I shift in front of you, as if hesitant to answer. Even in my head I have trouble formulating a sincere answer.  

“Well, back. Back is before...” I start but falter and fail to continue, to finish. 

Is the rain dying down? 

“So, back is still here only back in time?” You’re a prick.  

“No, no, I meant, back is where I was before.” 

I swear I hear you scoff at me. It makes me snarl and I become self-conscious. 

The air smells deliciously of wet moss, dirt, and mountain flowers. I inhale deeply and feel fixed for a moment. Not enough. But it does smell pretty in comparison to me. I reek of wet dog, which is ODD because I am human? 

“Before what?” I start to dislike you, but I cannot bring myself to tell you. Maybe I really am ridiculous.  

“Before...” I begin with confidence, but my thoughts freeze in my synapses. “I am not sure.”  

The rain stopped. 

I entertain this entire dialogue as if it’s not completely insane and continue walking through the pitch-black forest that could kill me very easily, yet here I am not acknowledging the possibility.   

“Before I started feeling like this, I guess. Before you.” A confession. I sigh out loud and stop again. I stop because my anxiety tells me to stop, because it makes me physically react. I cup my face in my own hands and groan, the pads of my fingers dip into my skin, my jaw is clenched. I stop for good by a tall tree.  

I am done. I decide to wait out the night. I sit down, knees to my chest, arms around them. My forehead rests against my legs and I try to wait it out. 

I try to wait it out, because, unlike the rain, anxiety feels like death, like walking around with rot in your chest and brain. The rain weighs down its wetness on you like a blanket, but the fear, the dread, seeps into your blood and circulates inside you round and round and round and ...round and round. 

I don’t sleep when your voice finds me again, pinned to the tree. I’ve lit a small fire and I’m toasting my fingers and feet over the flames.  

“You stopped.” 

“I did.” 

“Why?” 

“I got scared.” I feel shame pool in my stomach. It’s a different kind of rot, shame. 

“Of animals?” You so innocently ask, making me chuckle. I think about the nature of my fear, and it is indeed irrational.  

“No, I don’t know why. I just feel scared.” My fingers reach closer to the fire, welcoming a pleasant burn. 

“Are you lost?” 

“I most certainly am. Forwards and backwards don’t mean anything anymore.” 

“I know where the exit is.”  

My forehead leans against my knees again. I pretend not to hear what you just said because I cannot entertain this madness further without spraining my brain.  

- 

Hours pass probably, morning breaks over the endless rows of trees. Birds, insects, rustling, hums, sploshes, the fire dying at my feet.  

Deep into the woods the sun doesn’t reach so easily in the morning. It feels colder than last night. 

I raise my head, feeling nauseous. I glance up and my heart stops, then I hear you looping in the background of my mind. 

“I know where the exit is.” 

Above me, brown. At my feet heavy, black, a gun. Did I even move? Did I ever start walking? 

“Please tell me where I am” I plead gutturally. I stoop so low into my own melon and start negotiating with my imagination. My thoughts convey a rapid response. 

“At your feet, at your feet, pick it up and pack it in.” 

I gawk at the gun. Filthy, phallic object. I often dreamed of it, kissed it, warm mouth on cold steel one and then fireworks, celebration, followed by pitch black sky. I feel sick to my stomach. I refuse. I will not reduce myself to spilled guts.  

“I will not.” I protest. 

“It’s not for you. Christ, you’re pathetic. I did not just bend the very fabric of your mind to materialize a gun at your feet so you can off yourself.” 

And for the first time, you don’t sound like me anymore. Your voice is no longer my imagination, imitating the feel of sound, your voice is sound, genuine vibration, prickling the hairs in my ears and traveling up my spine into my head. And it’s the most you’ve said since we’ve started talking.  

I think I can see you even, you look farther away than you sound. But no, it's not you, no. I swallow the dryness in my throat. I am losing it.  

The gun sits by my ankle, real as me and the trees around. I know you said not to, but what if? What if I would? And this feeling, I learn now, is not new. This feeling does not surprise me, the more I let it play in my mind. It’s familiar, like I’ve thought it a million times before. 

Oh. 

“Stop, just pick up the gun and do what I say.” 

“Is it true?” 

“Do what I say.” 

“But is it?” 

Radio silence. I feel bad, it seems like you know more than me. What happened? I pick the gun up to weigh it in my palm. I abandon any attempt at communicating with you, as it seems you only like to give orders. I’m mad at you. I’m mad. 

Sudden jolt of pain in my temple, sudden ringing in my ears, sudden metal taste on my tongue. I stand up and start running, still holding the gun. I run in frequent strides.  

I stop, the ringing is still there but distant. I look at the hand holding the gun, my finger pressed on the trigger. I gag. My retching echoes through the woods. I start yelling. 

“Where are you?” I search around. 

“Just say something, please. Say anything.” 

I look up, I curse myself for the nth time. Crimson sky again. I toss the gun away. It’s impossible, it was morning just a moment ago.  

There is deep hunger in my gut, sharp pain in my legs, I look unkept, like I’ve been in the woods for days. My palm cramps when I try to straighten my hand, like I’ve clutched the gun for hours. 

The sky bleeds over me, bringing forth cold air and uneasiness. I am yet to find out what happened, who died if not me? I haven’t found a corpse yet. I’ve swept the area several times. I even looked for freshly dug dirt in case I buried whatever poor creature I ended. Maybe I did not shoot anyone, maybe the gun just went off by itself and startled me into a state of confusion. Am I even capable of such an act? I don’t remember many things about myself. Or rather, I don’t know if I don’t remember or there is nothing to remember. Maybe there is no edge to my existence that’s worth forming memories of.  

Maybe I’ve been surviving, entered auto pilot and remained stuck in it until right now when the system failed or realized I am not supposed to be here and kicked me out like a virus.  

Am I out? 

There were no feelings before, but now I ache in and out. Is this what it means to be present? I don’t even know if I’m supposed to be here, it’s been 5 minutes and I’ve already shot someone. 

I remember you asking about me and I gave you a flavorless response, and then you tried to be polite and entertain the nonsense. Then... 

I must be mad because I start looking for a faceless, voiceless bundle of electrical and chemical signals that once passed through my piss poor excuse of a brain. You could be anything from the worm in the dirt, to the leaf on the tree, to the crimson of the sky, and I wouldn’t know because there is no way I can recognize you, there is no familiarity to you. 

I frown when I look for the gun and fail to locate it. I dropped it behind me and now it’s air. 

That damned gun, something ripped when it appeared, when you... 

“…bend the fabric... to materialize”, “I know the exit.”, “...the exit.” 

Exit. 

Something ripped open. The pain, the ringing in my ears. I pat at my ache but find nothing. 

I see the brown leaved tree again and I go sit under it. This I remember, I assume the same position as last night, however now my body feels no tension, and there are no bugs on my back. There probably weren’t any insects to begin with.  

I still don’t remember anything else, but as I stare ahead, I feel my gut warm up in anticipation of remembering every single detail from this point on.  

Stupid. It feels stupid and cheesy.  

What if I fall into the other extreme? I don’t want to remember everything.  

I shut my eyes; I try to forget that I ever wished for something like this. I chase back the darkness, the absence, but I am present, forced to change, too settled in this newfound reality, something is different. 

My fingers comb through the dirt under me, my hand gets covered in mud and worms. It’s cold but comforting, soft almost. I play with it but suddenly it’s thick, hard, no longer malleable and friendly. My fingers meet resistance. My back sinks into softness, the trunk of the tree morphing into plush.  

“So, tell me about yourself.” 

I look down and find my fingers dug into leather cushion armrests. I stare ahead and I am met by a scrutinizing stare. I shift in and out of focus, re-entering the space at different times during the conversation. Some words stick to me like smoke. 

“Catatonia”, “psychosis”, “epilepsy”.  

“Who are you?” I interrupt.  

“Your doctor.” A crooked finger points towards a pretentious name tag. Right. But then I see, on the white lab coat, under the tag, a silhouette embroidered in shiny brown thread: a tree. On the wall, behind the doctor, painted on texturized surface, a brown tree. On the file, sat on the desk, printed brown on white, a tree. 

Found you. 

“You’ve got epilepsy. But you’ll live.” 

“I remember you.” 

“I highly doubt it.” Yeah, it’s you. Prick.  

“You were mute, nonresponsive, stuck. Until we medicated you.” 

“You kept telling me about the exit.” Your ears perk up, eyes slightly widen. 

A beat. 

You smile genuinely. “Guess you found it, then, huh?” 

“What was it?” 

You chuckle. “Intravenous antipsychotics and electroconvulsive therapy.” 

“Explains the gun and the rain.” I note. You note...in writing.  

“So, tell me about that.” 

...

[benefits1986]

Peace Tea

Is peace the absence of chaos or is it choosing to be still amidst the seemingly unending mess?

The past weeks of another new year has been really curious. First stop, my the closest brother of my dad is now undergoing radiation as his cancer reached his brain. He's currently practicing how to move around with his wheelchair and will be back soon from Singapore. My tita who we grew up with in one house is seeing progress in her battle with liver cancer but even when they can be considered affluent, expenses just keep piling up. A few days ago, my brother updated me that he now has two cysts in his kidney. Dad is not coping well since nerbiyoso talaga siya. I can feel his center of gravity is being tested. Nabasag pa niya kanina 'yung prized Beatles glass ko na pang-taho ko or pang-iced matcha. He messaged me and told me: Nabasag, natural sad. I've been egging him to go out of the house more kasi staying in might just make him "spiral" more. He's been asking me why things are happening that way.

With less sarcasm and an ounce or two of lambing, I tell him that good things and bad things happen to good and bad people. Ganun talaga. While being on the preventive side, if cancer is in your family tree, 'wag ka ng kabahan. Even when you try to have a healthy lifestyle, it can only take you so far. It may well just be part of the whole circle of life. You get things you deserve, in the same manner that you gets things you do not deserve. I told dad: 'Di tayo puwedeng magkasakit or mag-buckle because our family needs us at our best, whatever that means. LOL. I also aligned my doggo babes na bawal munang magkasakit kasi magja-Japan pa ako. Kaya bahala sila diyan. Choz. Buti na lang talaga may Japan trip akong parating kasi 'yun na lang talaga ang glimmer ko for now. ;) Baliw na kung baliw, but that's how I egg roll.

I've been getting lines like, you seem to look blooming. UHM. Now, I try my best to say thank you na lang kahit parang baliw lang 'yung mga ganitong comment. Speaking of which, tawang-tawa ako kasi may isang curious question na binato sa akin. You seem like you're doing thirst traps because you have this Jap OOTD vibe. Syempre, I breathed muna before my pakawalang sagot: I don't do thirst traps. They do not apply to me. I dress depending on my depression, my mood and my laundry. I don't really give a shit about what people say so as long as they don't fuck my core. I also had a comeback, a curious one: So, na-thirst trap ka ba since ikaw naman nag-bring up niyan? Sinagot naman na: I appreciate your look. Hindi siya cringe. Me: So, it's safe to say, it's a yes, then? Tumawa then tumahimik na.

Muntik ko na actually sabihin na practice Jap OOTD kasi 'yun pero sinabi ko na lang which is true naman din talaga na ultra femme era ko ngayon. Kaya case closed.

Side Note: May mala-tito akong taga-OOTD check kasi trip niya ring mag-comment as a tito vibe 1000000. Kaya, mas lalo akong unbothered since medyo maarte 'tong mala-tito na 'to na akala mo walang pake, pero, meron, meron, meron. Side Note 2: Daming time ng mga taong mag-comment noh? Hahahaha. 'Yung dating favorite line ko, balik ko lang: Wala akong pake kung naabala ka kasi ikaw 'yan. More importantly, 'di kita inaabala. Ikaw nangaabala sa sarili mo. Basta, don't get in my way lang. Thank u, next.

LOL. Peace tea. Peace, teh.

Peace is choosing to breath better and deeper even when things are firing up and are over ice na mala-North Pole galing. Peace is finding a sanctuary that comes from within. Peace is not the absence of chaos; it's about making sense of the mess, the fuck ups, the shitballs, the mental and figurative blue balls, too. Peace is when you laugh at ugh and icky circumstances from poor choices and poorest choices, too. Peace is forgiving yourself and the universe, too. Peace is your surrender after the end of your fight or flight chapter. Peace is enjoying small talks and believing that things will come around, eventually. Kung baga: Relak lang, as V says. Relak. Peace is also the aura glow in spite getting really bad news that spell life and death. Peace is smiling at life and death, too.

Since we're on that topic na... let me share... If noon, I prayed na 'wag muna akong mamatay kasi sobrang lungkot ko, ngayon andun na ako sa point na, I may not achieved a lot, but, I have made decent strides sa chapter ng life ko na 'di na ako super duper sad. I guess this is really my overdue moving forward sa mom issues ko. 'Di naman ako super happy, pero if I die today or tomorrow, I think I'd be able to say that I fought a good fight even when getting a one-way flight is better. This is not a suicide note ha. It's actually a milestone.

Life is indeed super short and usually, it's not well lived. So, while we have time, let's make things happen, unti-unti. Let's also let things go and flow, because, whatever's meant for you will find its way to you and be with you through it all. Tiwala lungs.

Nagababalik po. It's really Ariana > Taylor.

[elentiyawhitethorn]

When Passion Rules the Game | Part One

CW: NSFW, language

AN: Prompt from this ask

Part Two//Masterlist//2751 words

There was a man watching Aelin.

Actually, there were quite a few men watching Aelin, but there was only one who caught her eye. He was tall, muscled, tattooed, silver-haired, and he looked like he wanted to eat her alive. He was the kind of guy that Aelin would end up begging for.

He knew she was eyeing him back, and he looked quite content to stay where he was, leaning against the wall near the bar. Aelin figured if she wanted him, she would have to go get him, and from the smirk on his face, he knew she was going to. Hell, there was no way she wasn’t going to.

Swaying her hips as she strutted across the crowded bar, heels clicking, she sauntered up to him. “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before.”

He smirked. “I’m new in town.”

Aelin placed a hand on her hip and said, “Well, I wouldn’t want to leave a new addition to the community feeling unwelcome.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “I would hope not. That would be awfully rude.”

Aelin laughed. “And what can I do to extend my hospitality?” She leaned closer, holding back a shiver at the man’s feral grin.

And so Aelin ended up being groped in the bathroom.

The door was locked, and Aelin couldn’t help but thank the gods for that as the man twisted a nipple through the fabric of her thin dress as she perched on the edge of the counter. She exhaled, trying not to moan, and spread her legs farther, inviting the man in. He gladly moved between her legs and kissed her dominantly. One of his hands remained on her breast, pulling it free from the dress.

He slid his tongue into Aelin’s mouth, squeezing her breast all the while, and she couldn’t stop herself from letting out a muffled groan into his mouth.

Aelin wanted more, but before she could ask for it, two fingers pushed aside her underwear and plunged in her entrance. She cried out into the man’s mouth, not expecting it, unaware his hand had been moving at all. He just kissed her harder and started pumping his fingers in her pussy, already dripping with arousal.

Aelin bucked her hips as best as she could on the counter, writhing in his grasp. He kept kissing her, taking what he wanted with his tongue, his teeth. The man finally let Aelin break the kiss and bury her head in his shoulder, overwhelmed by all the sensations.

He curled his fingers just so, and rubbed circles around her clit. A whimper left Aelin’s mouth.

“That’s it, baby. You’re doing so good for me.” His rough murmurs sent Aelin over the edge with a moan. She shook as he didn’t stop finger-fucking her.

Finally, the man let up. He pulled his fingers from Aelin’s entrance with a smirk, raising them to his lips. The satisfaction Aelin felt instantly transformed into lust once more as he inserted his fingers into his mouth and sucked her juices off of them. Holy Mala.

“What do you want me to do, sweetheart?” His voice was rough and hot as hell.

“Fuck me,” Aelin demanded breathlessly.

“What’s the magic word?” The smirk didn’t disappear from his face as he pinched her nipple.

Aelin bit her lip. “Please.”

“What was that?”

Fuck him. “Please,” Aelin begged, louder this time. “Please fuck me.”

He chuckled. Then he put his hands up the bottom of her dress, hooking his fingers around the waistband of her panties. Aelin put her palms flat on the counter to hold her weight as she helped him slide them down her legs.

She thought he would just discard them somewhere, but he said, “Open your mouth.”

Eyes widening, Aelin obeyed. He stuffed her panties in her mouth, and Aelin groaned as she tasted herself on the fabric.

Effectively gagged, Aelin watched as the man unbuckled his belt. He withdrew his length, and she groaned around her panties at the size of him.

His eyes darkened and he grabbed hold of Aelin’s thighs. Then he inserted his tip inside her entrance, and she bucked her hips, trying to get more of him inside her.

“Stop moving,” he commanded, and Aelin stilled obediently. She wanted to beg him to fill her up, but she couldn’t speak around the underwear stuffed in her mouth. It did nothing to muffle her moans, however; the man was teasing her and she was incredibly turned on. Aelin didn’t think either of them cared that they were in a public bathroom anymore.

He slid in slowly, only a couple inches. Then he pulled back out. Aelin whined pathetically, and he laughed at her. “Be patient, love.”

He repeated the teasing movements a few more times, leaving Aelin wet and wanting. Then, in one sudden and unexpected motion, he thrust inside Aelin all the way. She cried out and clenched her hands in his shirt, clutching at the material desperately.

He started moving slowly, allowing Aelin the luxury of feeling herself full before he pulled out and slammed back in. Then he really started fucking her.

Aelin held on to him tighter with every thrust. All sorts of noises from the back of her throat were falling from Aelin’s mouth, and she felt so fucking dirty thinking about how she was letting a stranger gag and fuck her.

It wasn’t long before he started panting, his thrusts becoming erratic. Aelin let go of him and moved her hand to her clit, rubbing furiously. Her other hand went to the neglected breast, pulling it free from her dress to knead it and play with her own nipple.

“Look at you, you little slut,” the man muttered, and Aelin groaned.

“You want to come, baby?” he asked.

Aelin nodded furiously.

He tightened his grip on Aelin’s thighs, sliding her right to the edge of the counter. Then he started moving once more. Every thrust was an earthquake, shaking Aelin’s world. It was all she could do to grab his shirt once more and cling to it and pray.

She knew she shouldn’t be doing this—it was only Monday, and there was work tomorrow. In fact, a new employee would be entering the office, and as a female boss, she would need to assert herself immediately, rather than wander around all day sipping multiple cups of coffee, exhausted as she surely would be after this. But Aelin couldn’t bring herself to care; not as the man fucked her harder than anyone had before, hitting that one spot in her that men seemed to have difficulty finding.

Aelin cried out around the makeshift gag and tried to spread her legs wider, craving another orgasm, desperate for the feeling of this man filling her up with his own come. He was still whispering dirty nothings to her, making it hard to remember her own name. With one final thrust, he buried himself inside of Aelin.

She came as he slid a hand over to her clit, pinching it far too hard for her to handle. Aelin felt a tear slide down her cheek as she tensed, her inner muscles clenching around his cock. The man hissed, holding her tight enough to leave a bruise as she came on his cock.

He pulled out with a wince, and Aelin was immediately stuck by how empty she felt without him inside of her.

“Such a good whore for me,” the man praised her, and Aelin whined. She could only imagine what she looked like: her scanty dress around her middle, with her breasts free and her dripping pussy on display. Her panties in her mouth. Gods, Aelin had a lunch date with her cousin tomorrow. How would she be able to look him in the eye after this? Aelin would have laughed at the thought if she could’ve.

He reached his hand up and tugged her panties free from Aelin’s mouth, drawing a gasp out of her mouth. Instead of giving them to her, he just inserted them in his pocket with a smirk.

Aelin closed her legs and slid off of the counter. Her legs were shaky enough that she would have fallen forward if the man didn’t catch her with a chuckle. “Careful, sweetheart.”

Aelin wanted to growl, but it was all she could do to stand up straight, still clutching his arm for support. She pulled the top of the dress over her breasts and did the same with the bottom, trying to find some modicum of modesty as he was fully dressed, his cock back in his pants.

Aelin glanced at the mirror, then decided she would be going straight home after this. There was no way anyone wouldn’t be able to tell what she had been up to, and she needed as much rest as she could get if she intended to be fresh for tomorrow.

She straightened her hair as best as she could, then let go of the man, flashing him a smirk. She started toward the bathroom door.

“Who said I was done with you?” a gravelly voice asked, dark with unabated desire. Apparently he wasn’t satisfied yet. Aelin froze.

“Why don’t you come back to my place, baby.” Not really a request.

Aelin wanted to, she sure as hell did, but work tomorrow. And yet… he was so hot and most certainly a good fuck. Aelin could only imagine what kind of experience being in his bed would turn into.

“Well?”

Aelin faced him once more. “Lead the way.”

—

He lived in an apartment, medium-sized and a bit bland. There were boxes on the floor and all the walls were bare; Aelin supposed he hadn’t finished unpacking yet.

He pulled Aelin roughly inside, and she started to wonder just what she had gotten into. Once the man locked the door, all the distance they had maintained on the way here vanished. One moment, the pair gazed darkly at each other, the next, they were making out furiously.

The man—damn it, Aelin needed to get his name—slid his hands down the her thighs, and Aelin took the hint, wrapping her legs around his waist as he lifted her up. He carried Aelin down the hall and into a bedroom. Then he set her gently on the bed, a vast contrast to his previous touches, before he flipped on a lamp and turned to her.

“Strip.”

Aelin shivered. Still, she couldn’t help but say, “I’ll strip if you strip,” sass evident in her tone.

He frowned. “What did I just tell you, darling?”

Aelin restrained herself from obeying him. “What did I just say to you?” She was playing a dangerous game, but she couldn’t help but want to know what getting on this man’s bad side felt like.

“You’re just begging me to punish you, aren’t you?” He crossed his arms amusedly.

“What if I am?” Aelin sprawled back on his bed, kicking her heels onto the floor.

A dangerous smirk was all Aelin got in warning before he lunged at her, flipping her onto her stomach and bringing his hand down on her ass. Aelin groaned in pleasure, the sweet pain of the motion making her wet once more.

He pulled her dress up enough to expose her ass, giving himself better access. He still had her underwear, so now her ass was bare to him.

The man brought him hand down once more, and Aelin cried out. She clenched her fingers in the sheets.

“Do you enjoy that? Do you like being spanked like the bad girl you are?”

Aelin moaned. “Please.”

“Please what?” He brought spanked her again, harder. Much harder.

“Please,” Aelin repeated, not even sure what she was begging for.

She could feel the cruel smile on his face as she slapped her again, drawing a noise from the back of her throat. “Spread your legs.”

Aelin complied, spreading them as much as she could face-down, clinging to the sheets.

She found out what he wanted to do when he slapped her now-exposed pussy. She whimpered. The sting on such a sensitive area was exquisite.

He repeated the motion, and Aelin screamed. His fingers had slapped against her clit, leaving her a shaking mess on the bed.

“Turn back over,” he instructed.

Aelin could barely move, but she didn’t dare disobey. She maneuvered around onto her back once more, rolling awkwardly.

“Now fucking strip, you little bitch.”

With shaky hands, all of the fight drained from her body—or spanked from her body more like—Aelin pulled her dress over her body. This wasn’t a sexy striptease; it was a desperate, messy need to obey.

“Good girl. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Maybe I should let you come again, since you’re being so good for me.”

Aelin nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.”

He chuckled. “Get closer to the headboard.”

Trembling with lust and absolutely remorseless about the fact that she would be napping during work tomorrow, Aelin moved farther up the bed. He didn’t join her immediately, instead opting to grab something off of his dresser. Rope. Looks like he’d had time to unpack the essentials, at least. Aelin would have snorted if she wasn’t so turned on.

The man moved around the bed and Aelin put her hands above her head. With another praise, he fastened them to the headboard. An experimental tug had Aelin groaning with the knowledge that she couldn’t get out, completely at his mercy.

Then he climbed onto the bed. He spread Aelin’s legs, holding each one down with his calloused hands. Aelin knew what was coming, but she couldn’t stop the feral groan that tore from her lips as he licked a stripe up her sex. He repeated the motion, brutally licking the length of her, getting faster as he moved over and over again.

Aelin was writhing, thrashing under his grip, struggling against the binds. But it was all to no avail; she couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything except let him devour her. He lapped up her juices, tasting every drop of her.

Broken moan after hoarse cry left Aelin’s mouth, the desperation of the sounds heightening as he inserted his tongue in Aelin’s entrance. She bucked her hips uselessly as he worked her. When the man turned his attention to her clit, Aelin knew she was done for.

He made eye contact with her as he teasingly traced a circle around the delicate bud with his tongue. Aelin whimpered, and the noise had him smirking once again. Slowly, he placed his lips over Aelin’s clit—and then he sucked. Aelin yelled as her orgasm crested, dragging her into the land of hazy pleasure.

When she returned somewhat to reality, Aelin became aware of her hands being free and someone tracing her body with their lips, leaving gentle kisses. She sighed and glanced over to see the man beside her, his arm encircling her body.

“You good, sweetheart?”

Aelin hummed. “Yeah. That was fun.” She had hardly had anything to drink at the bar, but pure pleasure and exhaustion had Aelin slurring her words.

The man grinned. “Maybe we could do that again sometime?”

Aelin was tempted, but—“Sorry. I don’t do more than one night stands. Gods forbid someone gets attached.”

This was a lie. The truth of the matter was that, being the CEO of a multi-million dollar company, Aelin didn’t want anyone who she had allowed to fuck her senseless recognizing her. It was usually easy to hide, as most of the men she went home with were either drunk or too busy staring at her boobs. Not to mention her public image was of a put-together, well-dressed, determined, strong young woman that was unlikely to be confused with the woman who wore slutty dresses and frequented bars, but she took no chances. Even though she almost couldn’t bear the thought of never seeing this man again.

He looked like he was debating whether or not to argue, but he seemed to respect her decision and kept his mouth shut.

“I need to go,” Aelin muttered, feeling drowsy.

“Stay here,” he said, holding her tighter. “You’re so warm.”

Aelin sighed and snuggled closer to him. Why had she wanted to leave again? Maybe she had something to do tomorrow? Nothing was coming to mind. It would probably be okay if Aelin fell asleep here, right?

She shifted into a more comfortable position and murmured her agreement. The she fell asleep.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@evolving-dreamer

@feysand-loml

@flora-shadowshine

@gracie-rosee

@infernoqueen19

@julemmaes

@lemonade-coolattas

@live-the-fangirl-life

@midsizewitch

@morganofthewildfire

@realbookloverproblems

@rhysandswingspan

@sexy-dumpster-fire

@sleeping-and-books

@story-scribbler

@swankii-art-teacher

@thenerdandfandoms

@yesdreamblog

[zozophoenixxx]

Serotonin Booster :D 🐉

How to train your dragon edition

Here are some things I had forgotten or little details I just noticed on my rewatch, maybe even Unpopular Opinions 🤭👀

✨Race to the Edge ✨

SEASON 5

Meatlug and Toothless messing around in ep1 when Hiccup and Fishlegs are trying to figure out how to stabilize the island 🥺

I remember when I first watched this I was actually in bio and hearing Ruff and Tuff talk about symbiosis was like " WOW IM LEARNING THAT" 😂😂😂

Symbiotic relationship - symbiosis is the interaction between organisms living in close physical association to the advantage of both

It can lead to -> parasitism - a non-mutual symbiotic relationship between species where the parasite benefits at the expense of the host

- Hookfang and Snotlout have a parasitic relationship JAHDHAHSHA

wait I like that instead of calling a relationship toxic now imma be like "this shii is parasitic peace out ✌🏼️"

HICCSTRID FOREHEAD KISSES OMG😭

I like how Barf and Belch are incredibly strong, I feel like it's a fact that's usually ignored about them

Astrid: *talking about Garf* that dragon has a lot of fight in him

Hiccup: *while placing his hand on her shoulder* he's not the only one

I can't ok I love them too much 🥺

WAIT I JUST NOTICED THE FORESHADOWING WHEN THE TWINS WERE REFERRING TO JOHAN AS A PARASITE OMG 😳

THE BETROTHAL NECKLACE 😭😭😭

Fishlegs licking Astrid's hand is hilariousss nonono it's just that scene in general when Fishlegs is trying to help Astrid find the betrothal gift for Hiccup and she judo-flips him and then sits on him like 🤔

Sandbuster - doesn't like the light. Lives underground.

Astrid riding Toothless to save Hiccup. Just badass.

Hiccup giving Astrid the betrothal necklace and telling her that it's ok that she didn't get him anything bc she's the best gift in the world 🥺

And their hug and the way he moved her out of harm's way whenever Snotlout threw the sword

Still sad abt Shattermaster being replaced by the Triple Stryke

I really liked ep3 whenever they were in Berserker island bc we got to see them actually fighting in battle without their dragons it was pretty cool

The beginning of ep4 is also hilarious I can't with Astrid and Snotlout fighting and then also Astrid beating him up JAHDHAHSHA

- I also always wanted to know what Snotlout said to her 😭😭😭 all of them were just extremely concerned and shocked and Snotlout even had to leave the Edge UGH AHZHZHAG

Atali and the Wingmaidens 👏🏼🤩

"Males would neither understand, nor would they be helpful." Atali is a queen

Vanaheim - the last resting place of all dragons

"Sadness is a matter of perspective. It is how you choose to view something that makes it happy, scary, intriguing, or sad"

Ok so is Stormfly a tracker-class dragon or a sharp-class dragon?

Sentinels - Know all the dragons so they know how to deal with each of their tactics. Run Vanaheim. Have never encountered night furies. Good trackers. Blind. They tend to the island

OMG I FORGOT THAT VANAHEIM IS THE SKELETON OF THE KING OF DRAGONS

HAND HOLDING AND KISSES UFFF THANK U

Hiccstrid kiss count: 3😘

It's the way it's so realistic too, the way he smiles at her, the way he holds her hand and looks at her, the way she puts her hand on his chest and he lightly touches it with his free hand I just can't they're too perfect

Snotlout's excitement to see that Fishlegs was Fishlegs again and not Thor Bonecrusher- I mean the dude went running towards him🥺

I love how Hiccup just knows when Astrid's thinking about something

SPARRING HICCSTRID UGHHH I LOVE THIS SCENE

The way he's just in such a good mood afterwards 🥺

The scene leading up to the moonlight flight in ep7. I love them so much.

Hiccstrid Scene: ep7 min 5:42 -> 7:24

Meatlug's shot was the first to free a Singetail from a dragon flyer

Just realized that Johan not being able to get Hiccup's oil was probably also part of a plan to get them away from the edge to attack

Ok but Snotlout actually taking the initiative to be the leader while Hiccup and Astrid were away

The edge 🥺and when he destroyed his own Hut 🥺 I can't 🥺

I love how Mala and Throk were both trying to put the gang in a better mood

Silicates makes Meatlug drool

Tuffnut's Spanish is amazing we love to see a bilingual king✋🏼👑

Just realized that Krogan's name is well... Krogan. I never actually paid attention to the dude.

OMG WE GET TO SEE DRAGO IN THIS SEASON THIS IS CRAZY

I really like the twins in the Wings of War Episodes, the way they attempt to speak Spanish and start pronouncing the Rrrrrrrrs

Spitelout too lmao the way he helped Hiccup 🤩

It was also Spitelout the one that figured out that the Singetails don't like the altitude

I really love how Hiccup actually found a way to fight the flyers without hurting the Singetails, OMG IT REMINDS ME OF AANG when everyone was telling him to just kill the FIRELORD he found the right way

Tuff has a feet fettish

Stormfly and Garff messing around is too funny I love them sm 😭

Snotlout can be so sad sometimes

The twins singing >>

And that hug between Stormfly and Garff, they're just adorable 🥺🤧

HAHDHSHAHA THE WAY ASTRID LOOKED AT FISHLEGS WHENEVER THE SLITHERWINGS SHOWED

Slitherwings - very poisonous dragons! Even their skin is coated in poison. Like snake appearance. Not much is known about its poison and how it works but there is an antidote -> combination of angel fern root, pine sap and Slitherwing venom. The skin coating protects them from Garff's amber

Stormfly is such a badass omg I love her sm the way she protected Garff

Garff is an excellent shot according to Fishlegs

Fishlegs telling Astrid to look at him is just adorable, the way he wanted her to feel better 😭

Have I mentioned how much I love lil Hiccstrid moments? They dont even have to be romantic but just them? Like he just lightly touched her shoulder and told her to be strong and be there for Stormfly 🥺

Snotlout actually being worried about Astrid 🤧

I will never get over Astrid and Stormfly's relationship and how close they are, they would do anything for each other and Astrid just proved that by going up to the Slitherwing and PUNCHING THE LIL SHIT just to get Stormfly the antidote. AND WHEN SHE STARTED CRYING!!! As Tuffnut said "no one has ever prepared us for something like this"

And the Ruffnut being there for her and protecting her 😭😭😭

Astrid can actually draw

Still pissed about the fact that Hiccup never knew Astrid got poisoned NOW I NEED TO READ A FANFIC ON IT

That scene in Snuffnut [ep11] where Throk arrives to take Ruffnut as his wife is too funny. The way Astrid is pissed since the beginning and both Hiccup and Fishlegs are like "umm nope" AND WHEN HICCUP TAKES ASTRID OUT OF THE SCENE AND ALL YOU CAN HEAR IS HIM SCREAMING AND THESE RANDOM NOISES 😩😩😩😂

It really bothered me that Astrid had to stay behind in Looking for Oswald... And Chicken [ep12] just to take care of the twins when we could've had some Hiccstrid 😩😭 but it makes sense because Astrid is the only one Hiccup can actually trust on to keep things under control because even though Fishlegs is kinda sane neither the twins nor Snotlout would listen to him and Snotlout would definitely join the twins or just make things worse somehow. I mean they've both proven themselves to be fully capable but well- yk... Astrid is just Astrid

Astrid and Stormfly's faces whenever the twins said they needes a dragon that loves tracking and chicken😭😂😩

Chicken covering her tracks and Snotlout as narrator 😂

Omg Dagur saw Oswald's dead body... He even had to bury him and wow-

Grim Gnashers - hunters that prey on the sick dragons in Vanaheim.

Chicklet🐥🐥🐥🐥

SNOTLOUT'S TAN LINE OMGGG

"Please let me hurt him. Please? Just-- just a little?"JAHSHAHAJAJ I LOVE AGGRESSIVE DAGUR

Fishlegs saying that "Snotlout can actually be pretty handy in an air battle" is so true. Like we mostly see Snotlout as this dumb, sarcastic, rebellious dude who doesn't care about anyone but himself and but that's actually not true he's actually caring and will fight for the ones he loves but he won't say that because he cares too much about what others think of him 😭

I really dislike Johan sm u guys don't understand like I used to like him and feel bad whenever ppl cut him short but ughhhhhhh it's the subtle things too like him telling Heather to give them the dragon eye, him screaming in Snotlout's ear, not extending his hand to grab Heather, and him putting his hand out to "grab" the lens but just causing Snotlout to drop it

The way Heather jumped to get Windshear and the way Windshear kept telling her to leave and save herself

Archipelago gold = The clouds of corn = pop corn

I can't believe I'm about to start season 6 this is actually so sad

[evalinashryver]

A Mysterious Stranger: thoughts on Gwyn’s unknown father

Gwyneth Berdara: our lovely cinnammon roll who could actually kill you who was introduced in ACOSF and who took the fandom by storm. She’s strong, brave, good and optimistic despite a dark past, a great friend that Nesta desperately needed. Her potential as a character is extraordinary, both because of the development and healing she needs to undergo, her connection with the Valkyries and Nesta and a very mysterious — and interesting! — family tree.

@yazthebookish​ did a great meta elaborating on Gwyn's maternal bloodline, connecting her with the Autumn Court and, more specifically, to Eris, which you can find and read (here). As you can guess by the title, we’ll not be diving into that side of the family, but rather about the mysterious stranger who so happens to be her father. 

Firstly, I want to clarify that we actually have almost no information on Gwyn's father except for this one line in ACOSF: I, we—my sister and I, I mean—were the result of that sacred union with a male stranger. If we apply Occam's Razor to try and figure out his identity, the solution that covers all available data and makes the fewest leaps of logic is that this mysterious male is just that: a mysterious male, irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. 

But let's be honest— we all know how unlikely that is in a fantasy and ficiton setting. How many books out there do we have where a character’s unknown father (because yes, it’s hardly ever the mothers) turns out to be of relevance? And SJM does love to give her character something extra, something more, that makes them stand out from those surrouding them.

 Look at ToG: how many of them either came from important bloodlines or were blessed by some kind of God? Aelin and Dorian are royals and a descendant of Mala herself; Yrene, introduced a novella and expanded upon Tower of Dawn, comes from an ancient line of healers dating centuries back; the key players are nearly all tied to some deity. 

 In ACoTaR itself, both Azriel and Cassian don't really come from special bloodlines (that we know of), but are extremely powerful to make up for it. The Archeron sisters? Their father was the Prince of Merchants, and there may be something else to their bloodline that we don’t yet know like, say, being descendants of the Fae who imprisoned Koschei. Feyre ended the curse and a silver of the High Lord’s magic, Nesta took from the Cauldron when she went down, and it loved Elain so much it voluntarily gave her more. 

So let's put in our tinfoil hats and ask: what if Gwyn's paternal side is more than what it appears to be?

We all know Sarah loves Mythology and folklore and is constantly lifting things directly from it, be it names or concepts. Sometimes she picks and chooses and blends them together to create her own thing, other times she doesn’t even bother as much. Nyx's own name, for instance, or the High King Fionn, from the Irish legend of Fionn mac Cumhaill. 

It’s fairly common in mythology and folklore for deities and supernatural beings to take different guises and seduce different women, then disappear and leaving them behind with a child, unbeknownst to them. Some already know from the start, but other times, the child grows up and only learns of their parentage when fate comes calling. 

There's one god I'd like to call attention to, though. One norse God who is known to wander through the nine worlds, with a nearly insatiable thirst for knowledge: Odin. Wait, Ella, why Odin, of all of them? Because the Valkyries are his daughters. It's true that ACoTaR's Valkyries more closely mirror the Amazons than the Norse Valkyries themselves, but the connection is still there. And who brought the Valkyries up first, questioned why they didn't use Valkyrie technics (even though Nesta suggested mixing it with th Illyrians), and perhaps most symbolic, she was the first to cut the ribbon.

Gwyn, first of the new Valkyries.

We know from Sarah's multiverse that there are ways to travel between worlds; in ACoTaR, the harp itself allows one to open any door; in ToG, we have the wyrdkeys and the gates. So what if Gwyn's father was one such worldwaker, who just so happened to be passing by then? This could potentially tie her in with the greater forces at work, the otherworldly beings which Koschei and the Bone Carver are a part of. A child of secret knowledge.

That's the first assumption/idea. The second one is the other reason why I selected Odin: in the Norse versions of the story, he's the leader of Wild Hunt. ACoSF introduces us to the concept in the verse, this is what we know of it: "The Wild Hunt was a way to keep all of us in line. They’d gather a host of their fiercest, most merciless warriors and grant them free rein to kill as they pleased."

What's even funnier is that Odin, despite our current image of him, was far more related to the more berserker warriors and the frenzy of the combat. The Valkyries, the choosers of the slain, picked the most valiant and fiercest of warriors, half of whom became einherjar— and here I'd like to point out that they stemmed or were influenced probably from a common source, as the Wild Hunt is a ghostly horde (that does not seem to be the case in ACOTAR, but the connection is there).

Which brings me to another possibility: what if Gwyn's father is one the Daglan? We know they were cast down and hunted down, likely by Fionn (Rhys says that this one of the strains, but I'm going to go with it being true to Prythian), but just like there were Fae who fought with the humans in the Great War, were there not Daglan who sided with the Fae and Humans? We know that after they were cast down, the Fae hunt them down and imprisoned them, slowly, but how many managed to survive and live out there, in hiding? Even if they were not evil, the Daglan were demonized. Just like the Fae imprisoned Amren for thinking her one of their enemies, they could have turned against the Daglan who actually helped them.

The Daglan are, to me, inspired by the Fomorians who are described to be gods associated with the destructive powers of nature, being in direct opposition to the other race of gods, who are associated with more positive things. They also dwelled under the sea or under the earth. Cassian gives us Lubia as a seamonster. But under the Earth? We have the halls of the Prison, Under the Mountain, Hewn City... And yet unexplored Ramiel. With how the Hewn City designs were connected to the hounds of the hunt, these to me were important places of the Daglan of old. They might've even held the Dread Trove, once upon a time, and maybe Ramiel still does, or at least a clue towards it.

Gwyn being half-Daglan could neatly connect her to the overarching plot of the series, which seems to be going further into how the world was before the Fae took rulership. It would also tie her in with the otherworldly beings and plot that's emerging, and allow her to play a greater role. Would she be able to scry the fourth trove? No, but she and Azriel — because I firmly believe the next book is his — might be able to figure out and unveil the shadows surrounding the fourth trove.

This is very tinfoil-y and I'll readily admit that, but it's a thought that grabbed me and won't let go so I'm throwing it out there! Enjoy!

[irondadfics]

Hey! Any fics where Peter is insecure about his relationship/thinks Tony doesn’t want to be around him or is embarrassed of him?

INSECURE!PETER REC LIST

Been awhile since we did a rec list! In this list we feature fics where Peter questions his role in Tony’s life for various reasons. ENJOY LOVELIES!!

And if you need a friend, then please just say the word by frostysunflowers @frostysunflowers

“Three cracked ribs, a broken wrist and a heavy blow to the head, along with multiple cuts and bruises.Not so bad as Spider-Man injuries go.So why is he driving like an absolute maniac towards the tower (a hastily repurchased tower to stand in place of the decimated compound) with a roiling churn of something bitter and painful in his stomach.Because before, Peter would always call him. Always.This time though…The kid called Happy instead.”

Delicate by Bean_reads_fanfic @the-reverse-mermaid

It starts here: Peter, in his Spider-Man suit minus the mask, caught deer-in-the-headlights-style in front of a person he’s never met before in the kitchen of his and May’s apartment.“You’re, uh, what’s-his-name –” The guy coughs a bit, swallowing. He points at Peter, his voice getting higher as he goes: “P – uh – Peter, right? You’re – you’re Spider-man?!”…One unfortunate encounter starts a chain of frustrating events; in the process of which, Peter’s insecurities are examined. Including but not limited to: his worries that Tony cares about Spider-Man more than Peter Parker.

Alone by Lost_And_Longing

Alone. Yes, that’s the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn’t hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym.- Stephen KingAfter four months with no contact between him and Mr. Stark, Peter finally comes to a conclusion he should have come to much, much earlier.Basically, Peter has depression. And no, not the romanticized version.

Learned to lose you, can’t afford to. by ironspidereilish

Peter Parker’s biggest fear is that everyone he loves dies, so when one of Tony’s jokes hits a little too close to home, Peter tries to distance himself from his father-figure/mentor/hero. Unfortunately, a mission going wrong and landing him in the Tower’s med-bay means he has nowhere to hide when Tony asks him what’s wrong.————————————“Jesus, kid, you’re gonna send me to an early grave,” the billionaire joked, still massaging his temples with his eyes closed. Because of this, Tony never saw how quickly Peter’s face paled as he stumbled back a few steps in dreaded realisation. The older man never saw the absolute terror in the boy’s eyes- eyes that were suddenly glistening with tears- caused by his thoughtless words.—————-(now with a cute epilogue, too!)

Memories by radioactive_storm @mala-sadas

When Tony snapped his fingers and saved the universe, there were consequences. Instead of losing his life, he lost an arm…and his memories. And Peter Parker may be the only person who can help him get them back.

Porcelain by macabre

She constantly calls Tony a child of excess and Peter a child of absence. It makes Tony cringe every time. “He’s not used to having all of these things, and the things that he was offered in previous foster situations came at a price. You know this. Just be careful.”

Becoming Belonging by sahiya

Peter barely remembered the week after he came back, five years and two minutes after dying on Titan. But he did remember this: looking at Morgan Stark and feeling––to his immediate shame––wildly, insanely jealous that Morgan had had those five years with Tony and Peter hadn’t.

Sunlight by ArdenSkyeHolmes221 @ardenskyedarcy221b

“Stop pouting and ignoring me. You’re giving me a complex.”“I am— I’m not pouting,” he sputters, avoiding his father’s gaze.“Oooh, but you are ignoring me.”***Or the one where Peter struggles reintegrating in his own life after his dad lived five years without him.

What We Lose in the Fire We Gain in the Flood by xxx_cat_xxx @xxx-cat-xxx

The universe is saved, Thanos is defeated, the Vanished are returned, and Tony has survived (though with severe radiation burns and one less arm). Everything should be good now - except that it isn’t.While Tony embarks on a painful and frustrating recovery, he wrestles with the fear that he’s no longer capable of caring for his family. Meanwhile, Peter tries to find his place in a world that just doesn’t feel like his own anymore.

From now on by peterparkr @peterparkrr

Peter’s fixating on the tie.It’s red. Hot rod red, Tony said. It doesn’t look right. Maybe it’s too long. Tony said it looked fine in the store. It doesn’t look like it had that day anymore. Peter can’t stop fiddling with it.ORPeter's sure that Tony and Pepper's wedding will change everything

I wouldn’t drink that if I were you, kid by Lequia

In which Peter Parker feels abandoned, Tony Stark manages to screw things up even more, and DUM-E may or may not have found another fire extinguisher.

breathe by ciaconnaa @ciaconnaa

Morgan looks mortified. “What? No!” she exclaims, holding out her hand against Peter’s chest. “You can’t kill a spider.”Peter frowns, brow furrowed. He’s not spent a lot of time around kids, ever, but he’s never met one that actually likes spiders. Hell, he hasn’t met anyone who likes spiders. Peter himself doesn’t even like spiders, and a spider is the one that gave him a six pack. “Huh?”“They're good luck! Don't you know?”He's not sure he does.(canon-compliant, post endgame)

A Heart Grows (With More People To Love) by josywbu 

When there's a newborn Stark on the horizon Peter starts to question his place in the family he has come to view as his own.Good thing Tony has an abundance of parenting books at his disposal and knows exactly (kind of) what to do.

A Tremendous Thing by ExpectoPatronum

“Daddy's read this to me hundreds of times,” Morgan confesses around a yawn, snuggling closer until she can see the first illustration clearly, “but he accidentally ripped out the ending, so it doesn’t have any pictures.”Startled, Peter flips ahead to the last chapters of the book -- sure enough, the final two chapters are missing. “Are you sure you want to read this one?”By the time Tony checks in on the pair of them, Wilbur is beginning to feel lonely in his pen, Peter’s arm is full of pins-and-needles and Morgan is fast asleep.——Peter spends Father's Day at the lake house. He tries not to overthink it.

[snaamagica]

mala overthinks swimmura’s MGS

here is a link to the story if you haven’t seen it yet + there will be spoilers for arc 1 in relation to where magireco fits in with madomagi’s timeline in this post

okay so as absolutely wild swimmura’s MGS is, there’s actually some seriously fantastic and understated characterization going on here. like, holy shit. i have. so much to say. long post ahoy, jump under the cut to take a look

tl;dr talking points: 1. mitama’s hypnosis 2. oktavia’s behavior 3. homura’s reaction to oktavia 4. homura characterization wrt saving sayaka

1. mitama’s hypnosis

so, at first it’s very easy to assume that this is mitama fucking around with someone’s soul gem without permission a la swimkyoko (even if this was before she came out)

BUT hear me out: that’s not what happened at all. firstly, mitama actually did get permission, and she didnt actually skirt around it. secondly:

mitama didn’t mess with yachiyo’s soul gem at all

she used regular ass hypnotism

which, btw, has been scientifically proven to not work unless the person being hypnotized wants it to. you can’t make someone do something they wouldn’t be willing to do. this fact alone clears up the whole thing for me, and raises so many funny questions about yachiyo instead LMFAO like -- i don’t think yachiyo was fully cognizant of her surroundings, as proven by, y’know, what just happened. it was probably as if she was in a dream, from her perspective -- that kind of funky reality perception is what i think was going on

and i don’t know if the writers wrote this with that intention? buuut it makes everything both make more sense to me and less icky, so i’m rolling with it

besides which, there’s nothing saying mitama was GOING to mess with soul gems for it? her talking about “illusions” makes it sound like its magic-related, and maybe she did want to step up to that, but -- anyway i feel like that’s leading to definite overthinking so i’m gonna stop there since i still have so much to cover. the important takeaway is deep down, yachiyo definitely wanted to have fun in a fishing competition, apparently. LOL

2. oktavia’s behavior

it’s actually pretty cute that oktavia was delighted to be in the water -- in her element. she was very visibly having fun, if observers were able to figure out that just from seeing it

which, imo, reflects on how sayaka feels when she’s in HER element? very, very cute. even if the entire surrounding circumstance (sayaka almost witching out bc she was scared she was dying) is, uh, BAD

3. homura’s reaction to oktavia

friendly reminder that the magireco timeline replaces the one in madomagi where homura told them the truth about witches, sayaka having contracted was a part of their group and didnt believe her, culminating in sayaka witching in front of everyone and mami flipping her lid and at the end madoka asks homura to kill her so she doesnt turn into a witch

that didnt happen here

so homura has not ever seen oktavia previous to this

idk i just thought it was interesting to think about. the stark difference here, seeing oktavia in the sun and the water versus in the dark train terminal, underground

4. homura characterization wrt saving sayaka

this has multiple parts to it because like. god. GOD. THERE’S A LOT GOING ON HERE

4a. homura is actually in her element, too. she talks about needing to remember  yachiyo’s stance, which she would’ve seen for only a brief moment before chaos happened. mimicking something she saw another girl do once -- tapping into her very practiced learning skills -- this is another take on a battle with a witch, when you think about it. and she’s trying to save someone

4b. the situation is utterly fucking ridiculous but seriously comes down to saving someone. even if we know sayaka couldnt have actually died from it, she didnt know, and it still was painful and terrifying, and she definitely needed rescuing from it

4c. HOMURA SUCCESSFULLY SAVING SOMEONE OTHER THAN MADOKA, especially sayaka, who she never gets to save in madomagi, not even once, AND BEING ACKNOWLEDGED FOR IT. HOLY SHIT GUYS

4d. “i’ve never received a trophy this big before” more like she’s never won a trophy before, period. she’s never been able to do physical competitions like this before becoming a magical girl and she typically doesn’t get to anyway bc of their lifestyle. so not only is this acknowledgment but this is one of those “normal life” landmarks she never got to have before

4e. homura still being full of self-doubt and feeling undeserving of the acknowledgment and reward even once it was over. extremely realistic and also ow my heart

4f. “you’ll definitely figure out a way to save me” UGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHH DO I EVEN NEED TO SAY ANYTHING ELSE

4g. ending by circling around to swimmura’s doppel story is just fucking OWCH. and makes so much fucking sense. even after a single victory like that, it just reminds her of all the times she failed. especially recently, with kuro. especially after everything. and that doppel story really drives home how close coolmura was to becoming homulily all along, you know? she really was right there on the edge. and homulily talking the way she did just really drives home that akumura still has the mind of a witch... just. god, y’all, holy shit

4h. moemura refusing to go away. refusing to let herself be stifled and buried. UUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH

[highqueenofelfhame]

far away from sane - one

i’m going to preface this by saying that nobody has read this over so i don’t know if it’s good or if i just think it’s alright, who knows. only time will tell. I looked over this twice for grammar and editing and stuff but i’m sorry if i missed anything.  Thank you @starborn-faerie-queen  for your genius prayer to anneith. I owe you one. Not sure what the ‘one’ is but like certainly something let me know when you’d like to collect lmao.

TW: blood mostly. // 2435 words

Celaena had said it before, and she would likely say it again: the lying in wait before a job was the worst. Some people relished in it, seeing it as something religious almost. In fact, she knew a handful of assassins that worshipped their chosen deity in the moments before pouncing on their prey. Celaena wasn’t particularly religious herself. Too much had happened to her in her twenty four years to really believe that anyone up in the sky was looking out for anyone but themselves. Sometimes she felt like the sun was shining on her a little brighter than it did on other people. When she was a child, her mother had told her she was Mala blessed. She was not inclined to agree.

Still, when she slipped up the alley by the temple, she paused. A quick glance to her watch told her she still had an hour before she needed to be at the warehouse. An entire hour to kill, and what better way to spend her time than giving some old religious bastard a heart attack? She couldn’t think of anything, so she silently slipped through the front door of the small temple, splashed some holy water at the tapestry of the gods, and made her way toward the small confessional booth. 

Celaena settled inside on the uncomfortable, hideously upholstered bench and waited quietly. After seventy-two seconds, and just as she was about to leave and give up on spooking a foolish old man, the divider on the priest’s side of the partition slid open with a heinous screech that sent a shiver sprinting down her spine. Dim, warm light peppered over her lap through the grated holes of the window. Never too careful, Celaena adjusted her hood to be sure that ever defining feature about her was swallowed up in darkness. 

“Anneith, goddess of wisdom, we beseech you. Hear our prayer,” she recited, eyes looking to the little holes that separated her from the priest on the other side of the booth. A low, humming voice accompanied hers as she spoke and Celaena found herself slightly annoyed that he didn’t sound as ancient as she had hoped. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. It has been… gods. If I’m being honest, like sixteen years since my last confession. I… I don’t know where to start, actually.” 

Celaena tapped her finger against her watch and made a mental note of the time while she contemplated what she should confess, exactly. It wasn’t like she had a shortage of sins, but if she came on too strong straight out the gate, it would be hard to slip out of the church and into the night unnoticed. She sighed heavily and looked back up at the partition as she twisted her mouth in thought. The holes in this particular confessional were too small to see even a hint of the man that sat on the other side of the booth. Good. That meant he couldn’t see her, either. 

“I haven’t been in one of these things since I was a kid. My mother and father would take me to temple and I would fall asleep leaning against my father and wake up when he lifted me into his arms after it was all over. Church happens so early in the morning for young minds, you know. You should consider pushing back the time.” When the priest said nothing, she huffed an impatient sigh. “Anyway, I’m pretty sure the last time that I was in here it was for shoving my cousin down the four steps that lead up to our front door because he’d taken my ice cream. If you ask me, he should have been the one repenting. He stole -- and from a little girl no less. But I was the one in trouble.” She snorted, giving him a moment to say anything at all but the man was made of stone and said nothing. “I’m here now because I have a long, long list of sins, father. Longer than anyone else that has been in this crumbling building. Well, that isn’t true. There is one man, I think, that would top me. But I doubt he’s ever stepped a single toe into a church, much less tried to atone for the things he’s done.”

Celaena glanced down at her watch again, then settled back against the chair and dropped the bomb to end all bombs: “I’ve been killing for as long as I can remember. Well,” she shrugged to herself, “since I was eight.”

“Killing?” The priest finally asked, a trace amount of surprise laced in his tone. 

“Animals. People. Animals first, because that’s how they train you. The people come second once your technique isn’t so shoddy. And if I say so myself, and I do, my technique has been flawless for the last ten years. There’s a learning curve, but, well, that isn’t why I’m here. I’m not here to brag about my perfect skill or about the secrets that I’ve heard whispered in the dark. I bet you’ve heard your fair share of secrets, haven’t you, father?” Celaena glanced down one more time, already working the door open slow enough that it wouldn’t make any noise. The man didn’t say anything, likely at a loss. Or maybe he was already calling the police on his cell phone. “Anyway, what do you think my penance would be?”

“For killing people?” He finally answered. Celaena smiled to herself as she opened the door enough to slip through.

“Yes,” she said, and then disappeared through the small opening she’d made and disappeared into the shadows of the church, then the shadows of the street. She wasn’t a complete maniac, she didn’t begin cackling as soon as she was out the door. Though she did wish more than anything that she had been able to see the look on the man’s face when she revealed such dark truths. Wished he had been able to see the smile pulling at her lips while she spilled her secrets to him in the dark. 

Instead she weaved up and down the streets and alleys, climbed onto roofs and hopped from building to building when they were close enough. She didn’t stop moving until she reached the warehouse that she knew the stupid fucks were hiding in. She could see all three of them sitting around a shitty metal table, taking turns throwing down cards. Celaena was too far to hear anything that they said beyond a low murmur of voices, not that it mattered. They had all signed their deaths away to her when they’d had whatever part in killing Sam. It was made worse by the fact that they sat around a table now, playing games mere days afterward. She had hardly been able to eat since his blood had been splattered across her face, and they were playing stupid card games? They could beg and plead all they wanted under her knife, but it didn’t matter. Every single one of them would cease to breathe in the next eight minutes or less. 

It hadn’t been hard to figure out which of the safe houses they would be at that week. The men of the Assassins Guild had never been smart. Smart enough to get away with murder, yes, but not smart enough to beat Celaena. They could call her a bitch all they wanted, but growing up with the lot of them she was always Arobynn’s favorite, always the most skilled assassin of them all. Arobynn had crowned himself the king of assassins, but Celaena had earned her title as the assassin queen, had fought for it in violent shades of red over the years. The student had become the teacher, and tonight she would school all of these idiots for thinking they could take Sam from her and get away with it. 

After waiting another two minutes, Tern and Harding both stood from the table and began their laps around the property. Mullin stayed seated, idly shuffling his cards while Celaena snuck inside and up behind him. With a simple flick of her wrist, her favorite daggers had extended into her hands, and moments later a blade was at his throat. The assassin queen didn’t bother with pleasantries, didn’t inconvenience herself by trying to go easy on the rat beneath her fingertips. She pressed the blade into his skin and fought off a grin when a bead of blood dripped down his flesh. 

“Which one of you did it?” Her other hand twisted into his oily hair as she pressed the blade harder against his neck. “Normally I wouldn’t give you any credit, Mullin, because you could never out run me. But since I was in a little bit of shock, whichever one of you did it had a few minutes time to get away. You can tell me who it was and I’ll consider letting you live, or I can slit your throat right now and let you bleed out before your friends get back.”

“They were your friends once, too,” Mullin grit out, to which Celaena snorted.

“None of you were ever my friends. I could counter your shitty argument with the same one, he was your friend, too. He still lived with you, for gods’ sake. And you or one of your nitwit friends shot him in the head like he didn’t matter. So, I will give you one more chance, Mullin. Which one of you stupid fucks ki—”

She was violently cut off by someone yanking her head back by her ponytail. While part of her wasn’t surprised that someone had found her, she also knew they had found her a little too soon. Their fifteen minute patrol hadn’t been nearly long enough. Neither of the men should have been back yet, but here she was with one at her back and two at her front. Mullin now held her dagger in his hand, the one she’d had at his neck but dropped from the surprise attack. Harding stood beside him, which left Tern  keeping her hands in a vice-like grip behind her back, his knife pressing into the throbbing pulse in her neck. 

Stupid. She had been so rutting stupid.

Her eyes slid to Harding, who was kneeling to open and rifle through a wooden crate beside the table. When he stood he was unravelling an iron-tipped cat-o-nine tails. She refused to give any of these bastards the satisfaction of being afraid, so she kept her jaw locked and her eyes clear. Mullin approached her, pulling two pairs of handcuffs from his pocket that he used to lock her arms behind her back. Just as she poised herself to bring her knees up into his groin, her feet were knocked out from beneath her and she was helpless to catch her fall. Instead, she ate the concrete, teeth singing as her chin knocked into the ground and blood pooling in her mouth because she bit her tongue on contact. Celaena spit in the direction of Mullin and Tern, her blood splattering across the ground. It didn’t take long for her to feel the warm stickiness of blood dribbling down her chin while one of them unzipped her suit from neck down to her waist. 

And then they began whipping her. And whipping her. And whipping her.

Until black seeped into her vision and threatened to pull her under. A set up. It had been a set up. Killing Sam had likely been part of that set up. Arobynn had been mad at her for leaving the guild and had killed Sam to make her angry. He knew she would be reckless and a little stupid after losing the one person that meant absolutely everything to her and he had been right. And now she was going to die face down on the floor of a dirty warehouse in the slums of Rifthold, in a pool of her own blood. Poetic. 

“Just leave her,” she registered someone saying, but she couldn’t tell which voice it was. Everything sounded the same with the loud ringing in her ears. Someone was kneeling down beside her, looking at her face but she was seeing double and couldn’t figure out who was who. 

The man’s head snapped up as she heard a second set of ringing that sounded an awful lot like sirens. 

“What the fuck? The cops?” Vaguely, she registered blue and red lights flashing in the windows,  clearly getting closer as the vibrancy became hard to look at in her state of distress. Footsteps ran away from her followed by a lot of shouting. Gods, she wished they would shut up. Her head was hurting, her tongue hurt from biting it when she’d been kicked to the ground earlier. As footsteps ran toward her this time, she tried to focus on anything that wasn’t the mind-numbing pain. 

Tried and failed, until someone was crouching beside here and a set of bright, livid green eyes was in her line of vision. 

“I’ve got her! We need a medic!” The man yelled over his shoulder, leaning down a little closer to her. Celeana’s eyes moved down to where his pinky finger had dipped into the edge of her blood pool. A hard shiver made her body begin to tremor and she realized just how cold this room had become since she’d first entered it. The man rose up a bit, ripping his coat off and draping it over her body. She wanted to scream at the pain, at the raw sensation the jacket rubbed into her mangled skin, but she didn’t. “Can you hear me?”

She blinked once for yes, unsure if he would understand her code until he said, “Yes? One blink for yes?” She blinked again in silent confirmation. Once, she had known this man’s name. The man with the silver hair and bright green eyes that had been tracking her like a hawk. He had always been close, but too far. Celaena had always been a few steps ahead. Now, bleeding out onto the cement she couldn’t even remember what letter his name started with. “Stay with me, Celaena. Stay with me.”

She tried. She really did. 

But the darkness encroaching the edges of her vision was a lullaby and with one final blink at the man, it dragged her down and sang her to sleep.

@starseternalnighttriumphant @highladyofthesith @scarznstars @court-of-glass @tintinnabulary @musicmaam @awkward-avocado-s @aelin-queen-of-terrasen @clockworkgraystairs @shyvioletcat @westofmoon @the-regal-warrior @ame233 @empire-of-wildfire @thewayshedreamed @singme-t0sleep @royalsqueeze @stupendousslimepeanutcroissant @katelynchang @damebadwolf @wingsway @i-love-all-books @musicdreamer003 @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @mu-si-ca-l @3am-reading @stardustsroses @booknerdproblems @prettygalsread @angelofmusic81 @sleeping-and-books @cool-ish-nerd @noodlecatposts @meltalgel-ig @fancysludgeshoelamp @greenbriaars @wifeofchrishemsworth @ccrtana @cityofsuns @rowaelin-fireheart @sunsummoner @spyofthenightcourt @joyceortiz13 @brokenbutnotquiting @emilyrose111294 @feyresarrow @tangledraysofsunshine @silvermindwarrior @superspiritfestival @maastrash @ashleyfroberg @cursebreaker29 @moondancer-204 @jesstargaryenqueen @januarystears @vasudharaghavan @city-of-fae @firedoorcinemaclub @rowaelin-cressworth @annejulianneh111 @blackjacks-donuts @crackedship @runawayrowan @that-other-pineapple @mynewdreamwasyou @highlordswhores @abookishfreak  @tottenhamboys20   @empress-ofbloodshed @morganofthewildfire @starborn-faerie-queen @b00kworm @musicdreamer003 @bamchickawowow @ireallyshouldsleeprn @booksofthemoon @ashlynn231 @mariamuses @sanakapoor @harrymoncheri @ladywitchling  @smalltddygothgf @booksbqueen​

[ampleappleamble]

—

She closed her eyes to pray. Opened them. Closed them, tried to pray again. Stopped.

This isn't right, she thought.

It wasn't as though Axa had been expecting exactly the same sort of religious services as she'd grown up with in Ixamitl– especially not from followers of Wael– but sitting in a library and trying to pray felt akin to going to the clothier's to eat dinner, or having a bath in the bakery.

The Waelite priests back home tended to wander from town to town, either alone on foot or in small groups driving ramshackle wagons, setting out their begging bowls and preaching the mysteries of the Eyeless Face by day, taking drugs and sleeping in trees or on rooftops by night. Their services were subsequently quite sporadic, their sermons spontaneous and abstruse, sometimes downright nonsensical, sometimes shockingly revelatory. They'd had a knack for showing up when the community was in direst need of their unique guidance– and for absconding quickly and quietly after inevitably pressing their luck too far and pissing off the locals.

"Ah! The exhilarating, carefree life of the vagabond," Vaargys had stated one evening, regarding the other priests with reverence as they'd trundled off in their brightly-painted wagons. "I almost envy them." He'd wrapped his arm around her, then, and she'd leaned into him, smiling. Promising in her heart that he'd never have to live that kind of life again. 

She remembered the night she'd kicked him out, the light from her burning books illuminating his back as he'd vanished into the darkness.

"Watcher."

Pallegina's voice startled the orlan out of her reverie, and she looked up to see the paladin standing over her, shifting her weight from foot to foot. She had seemed... uncomfortable ever since they'd stepped foot into the Hall of Revealed Mysteries, although she hadn't said anything, and Axa was secretly relieved that she wasn't the only one feeling out of place.

"Pardon my intrusion, but I think, perhaps, it is time we started our work for the day." The woman's golden eyes darted to and fro, narrowing as they alighted on the huge painted Eye of Wael dominating the far wall. "As much as I appreciate a well-stocked library, I have always felt somewhat ill at ease in temples. And no amount of reading– or praying– will fulfill our tasks for us."

Axa cocked an eyebrow at the other woman, her lips twitching into a grin. "A Godlike who doesn't care much for temples? Sounds familiar."

"Is that so?" Pallegina cast the little woman a piercing glare, feathers ruffling. "In what way, exactly?"

The redhead looked down at her feet, swinging her legs back and forth, still smiling wryly. "My little brother Tico is a Godlike. Touched by Hylea, actually, same as you. He also didn't like temples much. 'Institutions of kith,' he called them, always trying to tell him what he was, who he was, what he was meant to do with his life. And our mother was little better." The smile had slowly tightened as she'd spoken, and now her mouth was a taut, straight line.

Pallegina blinked at her, a bit taken aback. This was not where she had been expecting this conversation to go. "I see," she murmured.

Axa could feel the other woman's discomfort, feel the mood getting awkward, but she couldn't seem to stop herself from continuing anyway. "Mama always wanted a large family, having never had one of her own at all growing up as a slave in Readceras, but after Tico's birth, the midwife told her she couldn't have any more. She never outwardly blamed him, but it wasn't difficult to tell that she was bitter about it, and she absolutely took it out on him. She used to guilt him into giving her his feathers so she could craft special religious totems, commissions for wealthy clients, to keep the family afloat after Papa disappeared. Tico felt so bad for her, he could never quite muster the strength to refuse. As far as I know, he's still letting her pluck him bald."

The straight line of her lips had morphed into a full-on scowl, now, her little hands balled into fists. "No matter where he went or what he did, he always seemed to be caught between being perceived as either an object of worship or an object of scorn... but always an object. Never a person."

"Ac. It is always that way, for us." Pallegina spoke softly, gravely, a faraway look in her keen eyes. "Being different in the way that we are means always second-guessing every kind gesture or word of praise, always looking over our shoulders and watching our own backs. No matter who we keep company with. Your brother and I have that in common, it seems. He has my sympathies."

Axa sighed, running a shaky hand through her thick hair. "Thank you. I– Sorry, I– I didn't mean to unload my family history on you. I guess I just had the past on my mind. I was actually thinking of Vaargys just before we started talking..."

The paladin cocked her head inquisitively. "Who?"

Axa remembered, suddenly, that she hadn't yet met Pallegina when she'd told the story of her tumultuous, doomed courtship, and she laughed at her own foolishness. "He's... a long story," she chuckled. "I'll tell you later, if Kana doesn't beat me to it. And after I've had a few drinks first, ideally."

An amused smirk popped up on Pallegina's face. "You may not be Godlike, Watcher, but you are certainly strange in your own way. Not that that is necessarily a bad thing, of course."

The orlan glanced at her out of the corner of her eye, fidgeting in her seat. "Speaking of strange things that are hard to talk about– I hope it isn't rude of me to ask, but I couldn't help but notice that you don't exactly... look like him. Like Tico, I mean." She peeked at the paladin's face again, saw more curiosity than hostility, pressed on. "I mean, beyond just the obvious differences. His feathers are a different color, which is to be expected as far as I'm aware, but the amount of feathers on his body, the shape of his nose and brow, even the skin on his hands and feet– he's quite a lot... birdier than you appear to be."

Pallegina scoffed, quickly jerking her head to one side to gaze at the temple's exit. "There is a reason for that," she muttered after a long pause. "And it is none of your business. However, you are not the first to notice the discrepancies between myself and other Avian Godlikes. Suffice it to say I had a certain... benefactor in my youth, a practitioner of animancy who assisted me through some difficult formative years." The soldier's face softened, suddenly, just for a moment, and then hardened as she fixed her gaze on Axa again, looking away from the main door as a new visitor gently pushed it open. "That is all I will say on the matter."

"An animancer, huh." Axa slid off of her pew, contemplating Pallegina's words as she stretched her back and rolled her shoulders. "...Think the ones at Brackenbury Sanitarium can help Aloth?"

The taller woman snorted derisively. "If he should ever gather the nerve to actually commit to going there and meeting with one, possibly, yes." The man who had just entered the temple seemed to be heading straight for her and the Watcher, so she kept her eye on him, but saw no need to acknowledge him just yet. "And if they happen to hail from the Republics, all the better."

"He'll come around," Axa sighed. "It's not always so easy to bare your soul to a stranger, literally or figuratively. Although, listening to me you'd think–"

"State your business, quickly." Axa snapped to attention at the sound of Pallegina's sharp, commanding voice, surprised to only now notice the messenger standing before them. Where did he come from?

"Erh– begging your pardon, Lady Knight, but I've a message for your cohort," the man stammered under her cool, confident presence. He regained some of his professional stature as he turned to face the orlan, wax-sealed missive in hand. "You are Axa Mala?"

"I am," she replied. Around the hall, scholars and priests looked up from their books or paused their whispered conversations, hoping to learn what they could of this new development. Aloth and Sagani alerted Edér and Kana, and quickly and quietly the little group gathered around Axa, ready to leave.

"A message for you, madam," the courier stated. "Chancellor Warrin requests your presence at the Ducal Palace this day, to discuss Erl Bademar's ruling on the rightful ownership of Caed Nua."

"I see," the little woman sighed. "I suppose it was about time I got to work today anyway."

—

[nochiquinn]

campaign 2 episode 140: I don’t even have a title for this, how do you title this

listen I'm lowkey theorizing that they get tpk'd and that's why this ending feels so abrupt; I think they only film one week ahead so I don't know how realistic that is

(note that I am not HOPING they get tpk'd, I'm merely noting the possibility)

critrole closet where do I obtain taliesin's shirt

ashley johnson ma'am stop I'm already gay

SHOW US THE MINI MATT

I take it back put the mini away

mala: remember when this guy had like egg on his dick

bf:I'm hearing matt doing that description and I'm just picturing him putting on costume pieces as he does

(mala: taking out the dm is a valid strategy)

summon WHAT NOW

oh he can cast meteor, that's fine

look at liam, he knows EXACTLY what he's about to get hit with

I HATE IT

MATT I HATE IT

leave essek ALONE

JESTER VS BIG SCARY MONSTER REDO

success!!

lkfgslk travis

LEAVE ESSEK ALONE

shared HP pool!!

I was joking aout the tpk, matt

oh god bless

I zoned out until caleb successfully made lucien throw a tantrum

(I know this is Big Important Combat but it is still combat and therefore I have no attention span)

I really appreciate how fair they are about reminding each other about shit that affects them negatively. tbf the internet would scream it at them after but I still appreciate it

these eyeballs is fuckin

matt: fury is mounting in lucien me, distracted: a furry is mounting lucien, got it

we get it you played kingdom hearts 2

"he threw another moon at me" is THAT what the fjord moon theory was

"EVERYBODY everybody?" homestar runner never leaves you

make those eyes work for you

fruit salad new ship name

wait did he say "they need you" or "I need you" bc either way I went momentarily slightly feral. I don't even ship it that hard (OR SO I THOUGHT)

"I press my forehead to his" nope there I go

I WAS F U C K I N G JOKING

who made the post earlier about there not being a true rez ritual this campaign, I blame them

the entirety of top table is killing me. travis and liam with the most intense faces and laura sitting in the middle just crying.

also liam and sam texting, what are you plotting

someone get ashley some tissues. brian I know you're offscreen, get ashley some tissues

hey artagan you wanna fuckin shOW UP NOW

THAT broke through, we love when the dice cooperate with the narrative

man jester and arty are gonna have a come to jesus meeting after this

MATTHEW

OKAY but that was a really cool thought

and he didn't say it WOULDN'T have worked

PUNCH U WITH UR PAST

how the FUCK

"THE COMPANY DESERVES TO SEE THIS"

LONG MAY HE REIGN

"was saving it for something" was it Wish

oh I hate how that sounds

oh thank god

my head hurts

okay I have to go boop the child nobody FUCKING DIE

I stood up and got actively dizzy, this episode is gonna kill me

they didn't give a "this episode is five fucking hours long" warning so I assume it'll end soonish but how or why I do not know

Please Save My Boy

Please Save My Boy(s)

MY GIRL

JESTER VS BIG SCARY MONSTER RECORD RESTORED

I am ashley

a BREAK? a fucking BREAK? IT IS ONE THIRTY AY EM

I figured that was the explaination, was the somnovum blocking artagan, but also

"insight check" fuck you don't make me laugh right now

don't think about how this is the second time they've seen molly's body dead on the ground

someone smack a healing into caleb please

yeah is it like a big flesh cocoon or a naga situation

ughhh if they rez him they risk it being lucien again and not molly

wizard HEAL THYSELF

if they res molly tonight I'm gonna puke

like just out of stress. that is the only recourse left to me.

YEAH

if liam cries I cry

the city knows what jester is capable of and gave up the bag bc It Knows Better

I actually don't know if I want this to work, I'm torn

it is a crime that they cannot irl hold hands right now

if he asks taliesin if molly wants to come back I will actually puke

what's the dc for this? isn't it like a 10 for the first death? does this count as his first death?????

hello 911 laura bailey is murdering me with acting

jester lavorre vs death

matt trying to finagle it in their favor

"you are frustrating and we miss you"

essek :(

fjord :(

although nobody knows it and no one knows our names, that doesn't make it cheaper it was worth it just the same

you know what, this I can accept. caduceus who saw fjord go down on the ship and just said "no". caduceus who stared down his friend's abuser and told him to go fuck himself (respectfully). caduceus who saw something extremely unfair and said "I'm fixing it". if this is what does it, I can accept this.

he's a BABY

he had fucking archetypes in his head for each of them and that's all he remembers

make taliesin talk to himself

I've been drinking ice water and that was A Mistake, I'm shivering terribly AND I have to pee

yesss

taliesin, res thyself

[faylor]

Faint

By @faylor for @peer-parker as part of the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!

Rating: G

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark / Iron Dad

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Prompt: Peter over-works himself. - AKA Peter is REAL tired.

One week. One more week and finals would be over and done with. Then Peter could get some actual sleep. Between the constant studying every day, patrols every night, and interning for Mr. Stark, admittedly he wasn’t exactly getting the recommended eight hours of sleep at night. He was tired. Really tired. But he would never admit to it, at least not to your face. And he was pretty good at hiding it for the most part.

That is, until he accidentally dozed off in class. He couldn’t really help it though. That day’s chemistry lesson wasn’t anything new or exciting to him, so what would it hurt if he didn’t pay as much attention just this once?

“Mr. Parker?”

Peter’s head jerked upward at the sound of Mr. Harrington’s voice, his eyes immediately widening as he realized what had happened.

“Uh- I-“ he sputtered as his eyes focused on the board in the front of the room.

“As I was saying,” his teacher continued with a raised brow, “would you care to explain the name of the formula?”

Thinking quickly, Peter scanned the writings on the board, his gaze landing on said formula. “Um, it’s iron oxide. Or rust.” His voice wavered slightly with embarrassment as he felt his cheeks heat up.

“Right,” Mr. Harrington said, clearing his throat. Peter quietly sighed in relief as his teacher continued with the lecture without another word to him.

Ugh, how could he be so stupid to let himself fall asleep in the middle of class? He’d never done it before, but god was he tired. Most of his classes this semester were more advanced, which hadn’t need an issue before, but trying to balance them with being Spider-Man had proven to be maybe just a bit too much on his plate at once.

“Hey,” Ned whispered from beside him, drawing his attention. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just... late night.” Peter shrugged. “I’ll explain later.”

And by that, he meant that he’d make up some story about patrolling super late and losing track of time, which wasn’t technically a lie. But he’d definitely leave out the part about it happening over the course of the past two weeks. Peter just didn’t like for people to worry about him. He was fine, really. Maybe he’d just have to sacrifice an hour or two a night on patrol until finals were over with. He could live with that. Maybe.

After school, Peter did his usual routine of homework and then studying, followed by dinner and more studying. By the time nine o’clock rolled around, he decided to retire his textbooks for the night and trade them in for his suit, which he slipped on before quietly escaping out his bedroom window.

It was only about an hour in on his patrol when his fatigue really started to hit him, but he figured all he needed was a short break. So he made his way to one of his favorite rooftops downtown and sat down on the ledge, letting his feet swing as he gazed out at the city. It was all in all a relaxing sight, which didn’t much help his state.

His head was all but spinning, and his limbs suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. His eyelids were fighting him to close, but he had to stay alert. He had to stay awake.

But sleep would be so nice, he thought. Maybe if he just took a short nap. He could have Karen wake him up and he’d be right back at it- No, he had to stay awake. He had to. But his eyes were beginning to betray him as they started to slip closed, and then he was out.

Something had suddenly jolted him awake, though - his senses practically screaming at him. His eyes flickered back and forth, widening as he saw the ledge he’d been sitting on getting further and further away. He was... falling?

“Shit!” Peter gasped. He had to think fast.

He quickly outstretched his arm, activating his web shooter toward the building. The relief of swinging away never came though. Instead, he felt himself hit the ground, hard. His back and head were immediately drowning in a wave of pain that made him groan with a strained voice, and that familiar feeling of heavy eyes quickly came back again. This time, he didn’t hesitate to give in to it.

The next thing Peter remembered was the feeling of floating. Was he still falling? No. He remembered hitting the ground. Or had he dreamt that? Was the whole thing a dream? Was he still just asleep on the rooftop? He really had hoped so. He hoped that he was fine. That he had just dozed off on the roof and he was just dreaming and that everything was okay.

That train of thought was entirely derailed as the faint yet distinct beeping of a heart monitor started to fill his ears. At about the same time, the back of his head began to ache, alongside practically the rest of his body. Okay, so he had definitely fallen, and he was definitely not dreaming. But where was he? And how the hell had he gotten there?

He fluttered his eyes open, his vision started to focus on his surroundings. He could tell he was in some sort of hospital room, but it definitely wasn’t a regular hospital. It was almost as if he knew, but his head was still spinning and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“And there he is,” an all too familiar voice sounded from his side. His head jerked toward the source as his brows furrowed.

“M-Mssr Stark?” Peter slurred, his eyes slightly widening.

“How’re you feeling, kiddo?” Mr. Stark asked, taking a small step toward him.

“I- My head...”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s gonna be sore for a bit, thanks to that lovely concussion you got from falling - what was it - ten stories?” His mentor raised a brow, his lips pressed into a fine line.

Peter’s face immediately shifted to a mixture of embarrassment, surprise, and guilt. He could tell Tony knew exactly what had happened last night. Wait, had it been last night? Or the day before. Peter could quite tell how long he’d been out. It honestly felt like days.

“Karen showed me everything, Pete.” He sighed, his expression turning to concern. “How much sleep are you getting at night?”

Peter opened his mouth to protest, but the words never made it out. Instead, they were replaced with a sigh and a slight head shake. “I’m sorry...” he mumbled.

“Kid, listen,” Mr. Stark started, making his way over to Peter’s bedside. “I know I agreed to not spy on you and look through your suit recordings, but I wanted to figure out what was going on.” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “Karen told me you’ve been out patrolling until two in the morning sometimes. Wanna tell me why?”

Peter hesitated, a sigh sipping past his lips. “I- It’s just that- Finals are coming up and I’ve been kinda struggling with a couple of classes and I just wanted to make sure I did really good on the finals, you know? So I’ve been trying to study a lot more, which means I don’t get to patrol until later so I-“

“Take a breath, Pete,” Mr. Stark cut him off, a half amused smile on his face. “At least now I know why you’ve seemed so spaced out in the lab recently.”

“I- I wasn’t spaced out. Just... not as, uh, focused.” He gave his mentor a sheepish smile.

Mr. Stark hummed, an eyebrow slightly raised. “You don’t need to be working yourself that hard.”

“I know, I know... It’s just- I mean I’ve been trying to make sure I can do everything that I need to, and I guess I haven’t really been keeping track of time and-“ he sighed, his head slightly dropping as his fingers toyed with one another in his lap. “And I’m just trying to keep up with my responsibilities. I can’t just not be Spider-Man.” His tone turned dismal.

Somewhere in the back of Peter’s mind, he knew that he probably should’ve cut his patrols short for the time being and catch up on sleep, but he also knew that his guilt would be eating him away at the thought of Spider-Man not being there for his neck of the woods every day.

On the other hand, he should’ve known better. Getting about three or four hours of sleep at most over the past couple of weeks had definitely not been treating him well, and it only kept getting worse and worse. And now he knew the repercussions of that.

Mr. Stark was quiet for a moment, looking at Peter with a mixture of worry, yet with understanding.

“Hey,” he placed a gentle hand on Peter’s shoulder, prompting his attention. “I know I’m not exactly the poster child for proper sleep schedules, or time management for that matter... But Pete, you gotta realize that being responsible is also remembering to take care of yourself sometimes, too. Your finals are important, yeah. And being Spider-Man is, too. I get that. But you can’t keep over-working yourself and sacrificing sleep just so you can cram everything into your life at once. You’ve gotta take time for yourself, you know.”

Peter’s gaze found its way to his mentor, his head nodding a bit. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, Pete.” He brushed a stray curl from Peter’s forehead. “And don’t feel like you can’t take a night off or two from being Spider-Baby if you need to.” A slight smirk formed on Mr. Stark’s features before it turned into a more genuine smile. “No more patrolling on nights you’re gonna be out past eleven, alright?”

Peter’s features formed a small smile of their own. “Fine.”

“Good.” Mr. Stark returned his smile. “Now you need to get some more actual rest, kiddo. You’ve got one nasty concussion to sleep off. Not to mention the cracked rib. And the major bruising-“

“I get it, I get it,” Peter laughed, playfully swatting a hand at him.

“I’ll be here when you wake up, kid.”

“Don’t wait up, Mr Stark.” He slightly smirked, his eyes already drifting closed. “I’ve got a lot of sleep to catch up on...”

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