#it just hands you a bow or a shield and you're on your own

[daegall]

☆ macrocosm

➷ in which Luke would send you the sun and every asteroid, and you'd send him the moon and the stars.

pairing: Luke Castellan x daughter of Apollo!reader

genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slight angst, established relationship!AU

warnings: one tiny injury, some cheesiness, and um issues with parents? also reader is implied to be female!!

word count: 1.2k words

a/n: hi all!!! my first time (and probably last LOL) time writing anything pjo :000 unless my brainrot gets bigger, i think this is the only thing i will only release, I hope you all enjoy and I'm sorry if I made any mistakes!! dont hesitate to tell me if i did or if i forgot to add a warning ^^ have a great day and merry late christmas!!!

Luke Castellan is a great source of your happiness.

Whether it be bringing you a small snack while you work endlessly in the infirmary, or sitting there with you, waiting for you to finally be free of work to finally have a chat with you, with the biggest smile on his lips.

Or it could be from how he always strives to protect you, jumping right in the middle of an attack during capture the flag.

"I can handle myself, Luke." You'd tell him.

He believes you. Every bit of his being believes you. You're amazing with a sword, even more with a bow. Yet something in him pushes him to shield you from any form of danger.

Even when you feel the need to be annoyed at him, in the slightest. His sheepish, almost apologetic smile he gives you pulls at your heartstrings, like a magnet. To be honest, you'd surrender your entire being for him, you'd send him the moon and the stars if he asked you to. You just love him too much.

However, Luke Castellan is also sometimes (never) a pain in your ass.

Such as now, as he once again, shoots you a sheepish smile as he shows up at the entrance of the infirmary.

"What are you doing here?" You question him instantly. Although you have a rough scrunch in your eyebrows, and your arms are crossed, Luke knows you like the back of his hand.

The way your fingers fiddle lightly with the loose string of your orange T-shirt shows how you're genuinely worried, and there's just the slightest curl at your lips that he catches.

Luke pouts at you. You ought to punch him at how cute he looks.

"What? Am I not allowed to visit my favorite girl?"

You scoff, but don't distance yourself from him when he walks forward to wrap his arms around your waist. "Not when I'm pretty sure you have counselor duties,"

Warmth spreads through you, a familiar, nostalgic one. Such as a warm home, or a campfire, it ripples through your soul and body, as Luke's fingertips caress you gently.

"I got hurt," He replies simply.

As expected, his words cause you to pull away almost immediately, your hands cupping around his cheeks softly, as you tilt his head to check every surface of his skin.

Although Luke hates making you worry, he adores the way you care for him.

With a sly smirk, Luke raises his index finger slowly, watching as your eyes trail from his own, to his hand, and finally, the small cut on his finger.

In an instant, you push Luke away playfully, huffing in relief. "You idiot! I thought you were hurt!"

"But you don't understand," He sighs dramatically. Your lips curl up from his overexaggerated sad expression, holding a hand to his heart. "how much my heart hurts when I'm away from you,"

With a roll of your eyes, you step away from your boyfriend, walking to the other side of the infirmary to grab a bandaid. Luke follows you, as if a magnet, watching and admiring your every move.

He watches as you unwrap the bandaid, adores you as you wrap it around his finger carefully, and if he could, he would praise you as you place a small kiss on top of it. Praise you more than he's ever praised to his father, or any other god.

"Better?"

And when he looks in your eyes, he sees his whole universe. Doesn't matter if he's a human, or half god, or if the whole mystical world existed in the universe. As long as it had you, he knew he'd yearn for it for eternity.

And suddenly, there's a flicker. Luke doesn't know how he notices it, not when it's there for only the slightest moment, but he doesn't care.

You're sad.

Another great thing about your great boyfriend, he loves to comfort you.

His fingers caress lightly at the skin of your cheek, frowning worriedly. "Are you okay?"

You're surprised at his attention to the smallest details, confusion evident on your face. "How did you—"

"—I just know, baby," He chuckles. "now tell me, are you okay?"

You can't explain it. But you try, for Luke. You'd do anything for him.

"My dad," You start. This time, it's Luke's heartstrings that are pulled dangerously at. He knows how complicated your relationship with your dad is—hell, everyone at camp has a complicated relationship with their God parent!

Luke's thumb strokes your cheek dearly, urging you to continue.

"He... visited my sibling? I guess? I mean, not directly but, yeah,"

You are a person who's strong, who's always put together, even more so when you have to take care of people every day. Seeing you so... hurt, so vulnerable and weak, Luke wants to curse at Apollo himself, but knows better. He's not worth it. You, however, Luke will stay and wait forever for.

"He visited my brother in a dream. They had a whole conversation, caught up, and I'm happy for him, I am! I just—" You can't keep your lip from wobbling, your heart shaking just at the thought of what your brother had told the whole cabin just this morning.

They were all happy, so were you, asking him countless questions and eager to know how their father is doing, but you can't help but feel jealous.

Luke nods in understanding as you tell him this.

"I mean, he visits my brother, has a whole conversation with him all night in his dream... and he can barely spare a single word for me? What, not even a sign the he cares, that he's here?"

And when tears cascade down your cheek, Luke wants to destroy Olympus with his own bare hands. Maybe for another day, for now, he'll coo and bring you into his embrace, stroking at your back affectionately.

"It's okay baby, it's just me. Let it all out,"

Pent up stress from the week, added with your jealousy and confusion results in a full sob into your lover's shoulder, as he mumbles sweet nothings into your ear.

"I've got you, and I'm not going anywhere."

Your soul cleanses from the hatred and envy, replaced with the love and care that Luke provides, feeling safety and solace in his embrace alone.

"I'm sorry for burdening you like this,"

Luke's heart nearly physically cracks at your words, even more at your defeated eyes peering up at him.

He shakes his head, pressing a sweet kiss to your temple. "Don't be sorry, baby," He mumbles, before pressing another kiss to your cheeks, pecking away your tears. "you could never burden me."

Finally, immense joy and love resonates through you, as it radiates off Luke and onto you, like the sun shines its rays onto earth, you feel complete with him.

"Thank you," You breathe out, staring into Luke's eyes with the most gratitude and love. And once again, he sees those eyes. The eyes that hold his universe, the eyes he'd yearn for forever. And when he leans down to connect your lips in a soft, loving kiss, he knows he will yearn them forever.

You'd send the moon and all the stars his way.

Luke would go to hell and back for you, he'd destroy Olympus for you. He'd be your sun and every asteroid, and you his moon and stars. Together, you'd have your own little universe, just for the two of you. Doesn't matter if you're human, or demigod, as long as he has you, and you have him, it'll forever be complete.

[laurorne]

Hi, can u write Daemon Targaryen x reader where she’s daemon second wife. He married her on the Valyrian way so Viserys had to acknowledge their marriage. Rhea Royce came to the capital because even hating daemon he’s her husband and humiliated her. A meeting between daemon and his wives ahahah

༊*·˚ WITH EACH LOVE YOU CUT LOOSE | daemon targaryen x niece!reader

summary: beheading is the only punishment fit for uncouth behaviour directed at the wife of daemon targaryen.

content: targaryen typical incest (uncle x niece), blood, mutual infliction of wounds, cheating on daemon's behalf, fluff, daemon is a softy, reader is catty towards rhea but feels sorry, possibly innacurate valyrian wedding?, murder!! no beta i'm so sorry

word count: 3.1k

a/n: tadaaa! sorry it took so long hun, i've been flat out with exams but i honestly loved this concept. i wasn't sure about the relationship dynamic you wanted so i assumed you meant for reader to be viserys' daughter, i hope you enjoy tho!!

The cold steel meets your lip in kind, Daemon's pointer and thumb pinching your chin in place so you don't slip from his grasp as he drags it across the soft flesh. Your nose scrunches for not even a second before you're pushing the pain back down. Your eyes meeting those of the man before you as he stares so lovingly at you, your heart hurts in its cage. Your pulse is wild and skittering as you take a deep breath.

His brow pinches slightly as a smile plays on his lips, something akin to hope and possibly admiration settling in those lilac iris'. Oh, ever-sweet Daemon, back from war and he's already offering his mind, body and soul to you in their entirety. It seems being back home, after the Stepstones had lifted a weight that'd been on his shoulders since he was sent away by his brother, your father.

His hair is fluttering along with the night breeze that cocoons Dragonstone on its spring eves. The scent of the lit candles invades your nose as you allow the wind to pull the curtain of your hair along its path.

A droplet of blood begins beading on the curve of your lip, Daemon traces his rough fingers down the edges of it, coaxing more blood to rush from the slit as he blows air onto it, perhaps comforting or enjoying the way your lashes flutter as he does so.

He seems to think the blood enough, as he swipes the pad of his thumb over the beads of blood that bloomed from the cut and he marks the Valyrian rune -fire- upon your forehead. The hand with the knife of dragon-glass upon your outstretched palm, willing you with the dip of his head to do the same he had just done.

Your hand isn't as steady as you bring it to grace upon his lip -you're far too flustered, after all these years of praying to whatever higher power would listen for him to come back to you safely. Utter infatuation and eagerness on your behalf made your cut slightly off but the dragon-glass was sharp and ensured a clean cut that allowed hot blood to pool on the bow of his lower lip nearly immediately.

Another breeze seems to coax you forward as you brush your own thumb along the trail of blood that began oozing its way towards his chin. He tilts himself forward so you can reach him with ease, his hair gathering around his face as it shields you both from the onlooking eyes of the maester and your witnesses. His eyes ever delicate as they trace the way a ringlet of hair dances along your cheek. You catch the droplet of red before it can begin its descent and mark his forehead with 'blood'.

A lingering emotion rolls over his face as your heart skitters to keep up with what's happening, not even a moon ago had he sent a letter pleading for you to greet him on Dragonstone before he returned and here you were, willing to wed this man without so much as a thought about the consequences or the rage your father would berate you with upon your return to Kings Landing. A part of your mind whispering that it was worth it, that you deserved to be loved by a man who didn't only want you for a birth claim of dragons or those pale Valyrian features of snow white hair.

Daemon's hand clasps over your smaller one as he brings the dark edge to the open planes of his palm, pushing down onto it as he guides you through the ceremony with little care of the proper way to do this.

He's waited far too long for this, and he cannot bear another second of not being able to have you as his. His flame, his soon to be wife.

He eases the blade from your fingers as he brings it down upon your own palm, it makes your breath come in shallow bursts at how oh-sp close you are to kissing him. To having him by your side, on the plush bed in the royal apartments of Dragonstone, as your husband and twin soul. Blood of the dragon mingling, like how it was supposed too.

Your tongue rolls over your top lip, licking away the coppery liquid that begins smearing across the entirety of your mouth as part your lips and watch him so delicately hold your wrist and split the warm skin in the cradle of your hand. His thumb brushes across the pulse point of your wrist as he presses your bloody, weeping hands together.

Not even the maester speaking can pull your eyes away from the deep lilac of Daemon's gaze, his pupils are dilated, round and dark as he stares into your own. You can nearly see the way he thinks, can feel what he does with the way he tightens his grasp on your hand.

"Hen lantoti ānogar." Blood of two.

The maesters cold hands brush across both of yours as he begins wrapping the reddened silk around the only point you and Daemon are touching as thick blood mixes and drips to the cup he holds beneath.

"Va sȳndroti vāedroma," Joined as one.

Your shoulders rise and fall as you breath in the salty brine of the ocean, but you cannot escape the man you love dearly as you catch a huff of him. Heady and warm and everything you crave.

"Mēro perzot gīhoti." Ghostly flame

He pushes the cup into your hand and your stomach churns as you bring it to your lips, the intricate headpiece you wear making your neck tilt as you stare deeply into his eyes over the rim as you drain half the cup, licking your lips as the rich blood smothers out anything else you could possibly feel.

Elēdroma iārza sīr. And song of shadows.

He looks down so proudly as you lick the crimson away from your teeth, tongue peeking out for a split second as you capture a stray droplet at the corner of your lip. He had preached when you were but a young girl, that dragons weren't afraid of blood, and you'd be damned by the gods now if you didn't live up to that.

Izulī ampā perzī. Two hearts as embers.

You bring the goblet away from the seam of your lips as you offer it to him between your bodies.

Pūmī lanti sēteksi. Forged in fourteen fires.

He glances down at it with a straight face before looking back up to you, hand wrapping around yours as he moves to take the cup. Warmth spreads from the contact as your lids flutter.

Hen jenȳ māzīlarion. A future promised in glass.

Daemon drags the cup to his lips with a look that burns you down to the core like one of the wicks that struggle against the winds, he lights a fire in the pit of your stomach that you're sure won't be extinguished for years to come. He stares you down, the cup idly held between you as you grasp his hand just the bit harder, eager. He downs what you couldn't in a mouthful, holding eye contact as his adams apple bobs with the swallow.

Qēlossa ozūndesi. The stars stand witness.

He shoves the cup in the maester direction, and the old frail man takes the cup with a trembling hand.

Sȳndroro ōñō jēdo. The vows spoken through time.

Rȳ kīvia mazvestraksi. Of darkness and light.

He cards a hand through the strands of loose hair, tucking it behind your ear as his eyes skate across every feature and dip and slope of your face. Years apart had not changed the way he watched you, the way he took in everything about you without so much as a thought about what he would gain from marrying you, aside from your presence as his wife.

Your heart beats wildly against the cage of your ribs as you place a hand on his cheek, stroking the skin there as you lean up to him, lashes fluttering in anticipation.

His hand cradles your neck as he drags you the rest of the way in, eyes closed as his lips press against yours. Blood is smeared between you both, the cuts weeping anew with the ferocity and want that he kisses you with. Your breath is stolen from you as he bites at your lip, breathing your air as he all but devours you.

Your arrival to Kings Landing after three months of hiding upon Dragonstone with your insatiable, newly wed husband had been rather... quiet. There had not been an entourage of royal maids or knights or even the High Council. It was simply Otto Hightower, accompanied by your fiery younger sister in her riding gear who looked less than pleased as you dismounted your darling dragon alongside Daemon and Caraxes. The Hand to the King had simply said that your grandsire was waiting patiently in Maegors Holdfast, and that, should you say anything, ensure it is an apology.

It was eerily silent as Viserys sat across from you in his chambers, deep within his cups as he regarded you with what you could only consider contempt. Your sister had been no less the same, you had married the man she was pining after, afterall. But you had no qualms about the dissatisfaction of your father or sister, it was your choice, and your life. You'd left your grandsire's chambers in a flurry of fabric as he had regarded you as a child throwing a tantrum, and that you would soon realize that you would come to regret this.

Afterall, Daemon was still married to the lady Rhea Royce in Runestone and that he wouldn't be willing to annul the marriage.

You think that perhaps Daemon had spoken to your father -his brother- because no less than a moon later King Viserys had sent out letters to invite the lords to a tournament in the honour of his eldest daughters marriage. 'To officially announce this bountiful marriage', as Viserys had put it.

So here you were, four moons after your marriage to Daemon, being regarded by your husband as you sat at the vanity in nothing but a shift.

"I feel that today won't be held together well." You allow your eyes to drift from the task of brushing your hair, Daemon is sat against the bed in his attire for today. Dark fabrics that fit him well, staying in Kings Landing for the past month had perhaps tamed him. Or maybe he was laying in wait for the moment he could prove his brother right about his marriage.

"Perhaps. Though I trust you will remain civil." You all but say back, fingers weaving through loose strands as you pull it into a long plait.

"If any lords are to look at you with so much as a lewd face, I may have to pull Dark Sister from their chests."

You hum, hand drifting to your swollen stomach automatically as one of your handmaids steps in to tie the braid off, her fingers not as gentle on your snow white hair as Daemon's were.

"Oh how you make me swoon, husband."

He huffs a breath as he stands from the softness of your bed, hand sitting upon the pommel of his sword. He wanders toward your seated form as he presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, hand smoothing over your bare shoulder as it moves past your breast and to your bump. Thumb stroking circles on the fabric above it as he presses a final kiss to your temple.

"I'll let your maids dress you today, send for me when you're ready to join the festivities."

You lean up to plant a final kiss to the corner of his lips before you allow his hand to fall away. His scent stays with you for a moment and so does his warmth, before he pulls away fully. Leaving the room in careful strides as the maids swarm you nearly immediately.

Being apart of the Royal family meant that you had the responsibility of greeting every longwinded lord who walked into the Great Hall, with a gentle smile and a soft greeting and a monotonous non-heartfelt 'thank you for making the journey for today'.

It's as if the King knew that you hated such things, that you loathed the frequent meetings of the High Council and the repetitive greetings. The only thing that got you through such affairs was the soothing presence of Daemon at your side, his occasional mocking words and dubious glances when a lord with eyes to big for his cock made a compliment to close to inappropriate.

Dinner had been served long ago, the rich oily meats sat across the tables made your stomach churn and the berry juices in your cup seem less than appetizing. So you opted for something savory, the lemon cakes and loaves of bread and soup.

Midway through a bite of a warm lemoncake, there was a voice you hadn't heard tonight, someone that had Daemon leaning further back in his chair as he took a deep swill of his goblet, a taunting look on his face as he glared the woman who stepped towards the table that sat before the Iron Throne with the entire Royal family.

"Thank you for inviting me to the events, my King." Her short brown curls were tied back as best as could be managed, she was dressed up in bronzy fabrics that rippled in the light of the braziers that lined the walls. She was... beautiful. Roynish in her appearance and the hardness of her features, a Northern Beauty for lack of better words.

Your Grandsire grinned widely as he greeted her back, "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to make it Lady Royce, I trust you found your travel to Kings Landing well?"

Oh. So this was the Rhea Royce? The... Bronze Bitch? As Daemon had so lightly put it in all his letters.

"It was a long ride, your grace. But worth it to join the festivities. And to see... my husband after so long apart."

The glare that's thrown towards your left is surely meant for Daemon. This situation was becoming more hilarious the longer you waited for her to greet him, and you by proxy. Oh, you had to greet her first.

"Lady Royce." You smile saccharinely, lips pulling back as you rise to greet her from across the table, hand evidently on your growing bump as you bow your head. "I've heard much of your conquests in the Vale. Tell me, how did you deal with those savages from the forests?"

You can see the tick in her jaw as she bows towards you, forced too by your position on the hierarchy and the keen eyes of the other guests here tonight.

"With a steady hand and decisive mind, princess."

You laugh, a true sort of thing as you look back to your husband, he huffs out a breath at that. He knows what you're doing, and he's keen on helping play this falsity of niceties.

"Husband," Rhea says suddenly, it's harsh and possessive as she watches you hold your husbands hand. "It has been a long few years, has it not? I missed your letters so."

She looks like a scorned wife -she is, but she cannot act upon it in the presence of her King, your father. Your smile falters as your fingers tighten around Daemon's scarred ones.

"Husband? You're not married anymore." You withhold any of the ill will you feel for her as her lip curls.

"Oh, my princess. But we are. The King hasn't annulled Prince Daemon and I's marriage. He is rightfully wed to me."

The hand you had on Daemon is swiftly pulled from his grasp, the hand you had on your stomach is twitching as you glare her down, you stand taller than her both figuratively and literally.

"Lady Royce, I would be mindful of your tone. Speaking to the Crown Princess with such speech could find your lands without a Lord." You all but laugh, you can feel the mirth that Daemon holds for her and it only doubles your hatred for this insolent petulant woman.

"I only speak the truth, princess."

"Was there not a rumour that your marriage was not consummated?"

Your grandsire snaps into action at that, a bit off call of your name as you bristle at his intrusion on your conversation. "Father. It's true is it not? There was never proof that Daemon bedded her, her womb is barren and I find that mine is not the same. Would you call me a liar and fraud when she couldn't even produce an heir?"

"You have embarrassed me! I've been dishonoured and cast aside after how many years or marriage? My own husband will not speak while his mistress dares to speak on his behalf. What have you to say, husband?"

You stand with a hand over your stomach and a lip curled up in disgust at the woman stood before you with a flushed face. If this is how your father thought he would turn you against Daemon, he was deftly wrong as he often is.

"You dishonour my wife by simply being here, Rhea." Oh and how the brown haired woman seems to crumble at that. Daemon had always been a man of few words, but he made each one count all the same.

“I dishonour your wife? She is nothing but a platinum haired husband stealing whore!”

The Bronze Bitch all but snarls and picks up a plate of tarts to throw in your direction but Daemon is swift in his movements. Standing before you and taking the metal dish to his chest without thought.

The plate clatters onto the stone floor with such a loud reverberation that Rhea seems to snap out of her rage as she realises that she had indeed just insulted a royal family member, and that she may not leave this Great Hall with her life.

There's a telltale sign as a sword is unsheathed and the whoosh of a blade through air. And then deathly silence as the entire hall settles into silence, as the body of the woman steps once backwards before it crumples and her neck hinges, a spray of blood decorating the table before you as Rhea Royce becomes but a corpse for the Silent Sisters to prepare for burial.

Grandsire stands from his chair in a swift move, shouting at Daemon for such insolence and killing a guest of the King.

Daemon ignores his brother in favour of wiping the blood from Dark Sister and stares out at the full hall. "Insult to the Crown Princess is punishable by death, you will all do well to remember it as such."

Rhaenyra is tensed in her seat and your father yells at him, something pertaining to another banishment and you are left to stand in awe of the gruesome acts your uncle is willing to commit in your honour.

[aeliuss]

warnings!: angst, mentions of self hate. hurt comfort.

on days when he cannot discern between his body and his shadow, chan tries to keep away from you for as long as possible.

it's not that he doesn't love you--the opposite actually. sometimes he thinks the dead thing in his chest beats only for you. beats and beats and beats, pumps blood into veins he feels he is unworthy of because how then would he be able to hold you? to kiss you?

but on days like this, he is ashamed.

his knees buckle under the weight of his own existence. how could he hold you, kiss you, when he felt like a mere shell of the man he once was? how could he offer you anything when he struggled to find value in his own existence?

it's crippling. this feeling. this weight. this him.

so when you find him sitting on the edge of the bed in the dark, he winces. turns away. the dark circles stretch under his eyes like black holes and he's in the same shirt he'd pulled on four days ago and the light that comes in through the crack in the door you just opened is blinding him and he's ashamed.

"what're you doin' here?" it comes out as a croak. he cringes at the sound of it.

but all that comes out of your lips is a small, "baby.."

you say it with so much love but all it does is repulse him. how could you still have love for a rotting carcass? it's the reason he's opted to stay in the dorms rather than your apartment these past few days. he's almost certain the boys had something to do with your presence here now.

"m' fine," he says, turning on the bed, away from the light, from you. he can't really tell the difference.

you close the door behind you, bathing the room in darkness once more. you take a step closer, the floor creaking beneath your weight. chan flinches, his shoulders tensing as if bracing for impact. he wants to disappear into the shadows, to fade away until he no longer exists in your world. to shield you from the festering ugliness inside of him

but when you step forward, towards him, his body reacts, legs opening so you can stand between them.

your hand hesitantly reaches out, fingers brushing against his tense shoulder. he catches it, pushing it away.

"i haven't showered," he mutters, head bowed, unable to meet your eyes.

"chris."

"you should probably leave. this happens all the time, i'm fine." he's telling you to leave but his fingers are clenching around the hem of your t-shirt so tightly his knuckles turn white. "i'm fine."

"chris," you say softly, your voice a tender caress in the dimness of the room. "look at me, baby, please."

he doesn't. can't bare to, so you have to nudge him gently with the palm of your hand, cupping his cheek. his eyes are dark, haunted, and they flick away as soon as they meet your gaze.

"you're not okay," you say, heart aching.

"i'm trying," his voice cracks. "i'm trying to be."

your finger grazes his jaw. "i love you."

and then he's clutching your hips, drawing you close to him, and the tears come like tidal waves. his face is smushed against your stomach, and you hold him, you feel the tremors coursing through his body, the weight of his anguish pressing against you. you don't flinch, don't pull away. instead, you hold him tighter, letting him know that you're there, that you're not going anywhere.

"i love you," you whisper again, your words a soothing melody in the darkness. "i'm here, chris. i'm not ever leaving you."

he clings to you desperately, as if you're the only anchor in a stormy sea. his sobs echo in the quiet room, mingling with the hushed sounds of your reassurances.

on days when he cannot discern between his body and his shadow, chan tries to keep away from you for as long as possible. he doesn't want you to see the ugly he knows is inside of him. but you do anyway. you see the ugly, the part of him he tries so desperatly to hide. you don't flinch. you don't turn away.

in your love, he discovers his own resilience, his capacity to rise from the depths of despair and embrace the light once more. and though the journey may be fraught with obstacles, uncertainties, and moments of darkness, he knows that as long as you're there, holding his hand, he'll never have to face it alone.

[felassan]

New today on DA:TV from Game Informer, 'Breaking Down Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s Classes And Factions':

"Breaking Down Dragon Age: The Veilguard’s Classes And Factions by Wesley LeBlanc on Jun 25, 2024 at 02:00 PM "As part of the character creation process for Dragon Age: The Veilguard, players will have to select both a class for their player-controlled Rook and a faction. After customizing much of your Rook's body, including things like a Qunari's horn type and material, for example, with the hundreds of options available in Veilguard, it will be time to pick said class.  [embedded link to DA:TV reveal trailer] There are three classes to choose from: Rogue, Mage, and Warrior. As the names suggest, each features a unique combat system and plays differently as a result. Though you’ll be performing things like light and heavy attacks using the same buttons, what those attacks do varies based on your class. For example, a sword-and-shield Warrior can hip-fire or aim their shield to throw it like Captain America, whereas a Mage can use that same button to throw out magical ranged attacks – read more about the combat of Veilguard in Game Informer's exclusive feature here. Plus, as you spec out these classes and unlock their individual specializations, the differences will only grow even more stark.  - The Rogue has access to three specializations. The Duelist is the fastest of the three, with two blades for rapid strikes; the Saboteur uses tricks and traps; and the Veil Ranger is purely range, sniping enemies from afar with a bow. - The Mage can utilize necromancy with the Death Caller specialization; Evokers wield fire, ice, and lightning; and the Spellblade uses magic-infused melee attacks. - The Warrior can become a Reaper, which uses night blades to steal life and risk death to gain unnatural abilities; a Slayer, a simple but strong two-handed weapons expert; or the Champion, a tactical defense fighter. While these specializations don't matter upfront – you class into them via the skill trees you progress through the game – it's nice to see the potential of each class before you choose it."

"For the penultimate step of the character creator, at least during the demo BioWare shows me, players select a faction. The Grey Wardens return, joined by other returning favorites and new additions like the Antivan Crows, the Mourn Watch, the Shadow Dragons, the pirate-themed Lords of Fortune, which is what I chose in my demo for the current Game Informer cover story, and the Veil Jumpers. Each faction has unique casual wear, which is worn in specific cutscenes when the character isn't donning armor, and three unique traits. The Lords of Fortune, for example, gain additional reputation with this particular faction, have increased damage versus mercenaries, and perform takedowns on enemies with slightly less effort. Veilguard game director Corinne Busche says this faction selection, which ties into your character's backstory, determines who your Rook was before, how they met Varric, why they travel with Varric instead of their faction, and more. "The message of The Veilguard is you're not saving the world on your own – you need your companions, but you also need these factions, these other groups in the world," creative director John Epler tells me. "You help them, they help you now.""

"He says BioWare wanted to avoid the trope of needing to gather 200 random resources or objects before helping you save the world. Instead, the team aimed to create factions that want to help you but have realistic challenges and problems in front of them so that narratively, it makes sense why you help them in return for their help when the time comes.  "Gameplay-wise – each of our classes has a specialization, and each of them is tied to a faction," Epler continues. "But beyond that, each faction has a [companion] as well as [people we're calling agents, ancillarily] who exist as the faces of these factions. We didn't want to just say, 'Here's the Grey Wardens, go deal with them.' We wanted characters within that faction who are sympathetic, who you can see and become the face of the faction, so that even if there are moments where the faction as a whole may be on the outs with you, these characters are still with you; they've still got your back."  [old version of this paragraph] If you find yourself unhappy with your lineage or your class, you can change them using the Mirror of Transformation, found in the main Veilguard hub, The Lighthouse. You can also change your Rook's visual appearance there, too." [new version of this paragraph] If you want to make changes to your character's physical appearance, you can do that with the Mirror of Transformation, found in the main Veilguard hub, The Lighthouse. However, class, lineage, and identity are locked in and cannot be changed after you select them in the game's character creator. [Editor's Note: This article previously stated players can change their physical appearance, class, lineage, and identity using the Mirror of Transformation. That is incorrect as class, lineage, and identity are locked after you first select those. The article has been updated to reflect that, and Game Informer apologizes for any confusion this mistake may have caused.] For more about the game, including exclusive details, interviews, video features, and more, click the Dragon Age: The Veilguard hub button below."

[source]

[lookinghalfacorpse]

long overdue cdream seizure drabble for @icecreamvi. dream is finally healthy enough to fight again, but seizures still hit at inopportune times.

/dsmp /rp

It was good to see Dream fighting again.

In all fairness, this fight in particular was a bit annoying. Technoblade and Dream were on their way back home after some errands when they were ambushed in the forest. Techno learned over the years that people who got lost in that enchanted forest, designed by the Goddess of Death to disorient and confuse, grew desperate quickly. They were little more than petty thieves, but even stray dogs are dangerous when they're hungry.

And their archer was infuriating.

Dream raised his shield a bit above his head, stopping an arrow before it landed in Techno's shoulderblade. With his shield occupied, Dream held his opponent at bay while blocking with his axe. "You couldn't afford to watch your back a bit more?" He joked.

"Eh," Techno replied. He was more interested in tossing one of the swordsmen into a tree. Humans are too easy to throw around.

Dream wasn't anywhere close to his former strength, but he could hold his own in battle, and he still overpowered most opponents. It was impressive to watch. He was quick and clever, and he knew how to use his bodyweight as a source of power, even after all the weight he lost. He was quick to disarm the swordsman that opposed him, and while the poor soul scrambled back to his feet and scanned around him for options, Dream stepped forward and smoothly raised his axe above his head--

--when suddenly his shoulder shuddered, and the axe dropped to the snow.

Dream gasped as air was forced out of his lungs, a hand raising to his chest in panic. Techno was familiar with the warning signs of a seizure. He's helped Dream endure countless seizures, both in the Vault and outside of it. He heard the creak of the archer's bow and bolted over to Dream just in time to guard him from an arrow. Instead of landing in Dream's skull, it sunk deep into Techno's mid-back.

Techno tried not to react to the sting. "Hey, Dream--"

Dream made a pained sound as the seizure took hold, his knees giving out and his shoulders spasming. His right shoulder twisted backwards while the left trembled uncontrollably. He fell fully into Techno's arms, his moans giving way to silence as he ran out of breath.

A second arrow hit Techno's shoulder. A third near the base of his neck. The swordsman, seeing his opening, lunged towards his blade.

They needed to run.

Techno gathered Dream's body in his arms and sprinted for the forest. With any luck, its disorienting effects could lend them an advantage. Dream's hands clawed into the fabric of his shirt, pulling it at odd, uncomfortable angles. Techno had to keep adjusting his grip as the young man squirmed and seized, desperate not to hold him too tightly and risk hurting him.

As soon as he couldn't hear arrows fly anymore, Techno ducked behind a large tree and set Dream on the ground, hunching his body protectively over him. If that damn archer found them again, he'd see nothing but piglin.

"Breathe through it," Techno instructed, his own breath heavy from the exertion.

Dream met his eyes. Sometimes he seemed lucid throughout the seizure while other times he seemed more unconscious. This time, his gaze was watery and heartbroken, but intelligent. "Te-- Tech-- Tech--"

"I said breathe, not talk, nerd." Techno placed a hand on Dream's shoulder, rubbing along the fabric of his jacket slowly. "Relax."

Fully encompassed by Technoblade's body, half-buried in snow, and surrendering to a seizure, Dream looked so small.

"You're--bleeding--" Dream coughed, his voice strained as his jaw tightened.

"And you're seizin'. I'd say we're both doin' pretty great."

"I'm--"

"Dream. Hush."

"I'm--sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorr--"

Techno bowed his head until their foreheads touched, letting his eyes fall closed. They'd ride this out together, like they always did.

"--sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

[ph4ngz]

I’m so obsessed with your lust quirk fics they’re so good 😮‍💨 could you do one w todoroki?

It's purring. (This came straight out of my pussy I won't even sugarcoat it, literally one of the horniest experiences of my life)

Lust quirk w/ Shoto!

↑ Contains; ProHero!Shoto x fem!reader, aphrodisiac themes, begging, choking (hardly), no condom, no prep, reader is a terrible neighbour, shamelessly desperate Shoto :D

4.5k+

/-/-/-/

An oddly patterned series of knocks upon your apartment's front door disturbs you from your nightly routine and you sigh, irritated due to the timing, the fact that you were halfway through changing into your sleepwear, and finally due to the fact that you'd just made sure every light was out only to now turn them back on again.

"Oh, what the hell..."

There's no way you can answer the door right now! You look down at your bare legs. Hell no, even if you weren't clad in only panties and a shirt, you still didn't have any makeup on. Before you can shrug it off and continue changing, pretend you're not home and snuggle up in your fresh sheets, another string of knocks sound. Somehow, they seem a little more desperate than before?

"Ugh, hold on, jeez." you complain to yourself whilst flinging your pyjama bottoms to the floor agitatedly, then push your oversized T-shirt down to cover your exposed lower half and expertly navigate your way through the dark, too stubborn to flick any switches and help yourself. Hopefully this is just a package being delivered?

The moment you unlock and pull back the door, concern draws itself upon your features.

"Todoroki?"

The slumped figure before you, partially blocking the yellowish lighting from out in the hallway, straightens almost immediately at the sound of his name being called as if he hadn't knocked in the first place, eyes shaded by a hooded, lustful gaze directed your way. Something's wrong, obviously. Your friend and coworker is usually so calm and composed.

Your worried stare slowly travels downward and holy shit he’s unbuttoning his shirt. You can see his abs. His defined, beautiful abs. The ones that prove the strength he worked so hard to obtain during his hero training. Wait, he’s not injured is he…?

"A-Are you hurt?" You blurt out, training your eyes anywhere else but his body. Man, this feels illegal.

Is he HURT? Why would he come to you and not the hospital anyway!?

"Y/n-" the hero begins, pausing once he clocks your current attire. Todoroki's eyebrows bow all of a sudden and he practically collapses against the door frame, an arm coming up to shield his forehead as his cheeks puff out with a long, uncontrolled exhale.

Your mouth opens, but you doubt you'd be able to correctly respond to the second bout of hurried words currently falling from his own, so you keep it closed tightly.

"Oh, you look so fucking hot okay—" He breathes out, closing his bicolour eyes. The unexpected statement, although a dizzying compliment to yourself, seems as though it's a problem for him. You don’t miss the way his other hand starts to wave his shirt back and forth from his chest, using it as a makeshift fan.

Also, you'd been ready for bed not even five minutes ago, bare faced and tired as all hell, in what world would your appearance be considered as 'hot'!? Alright, this is seriously confusing. And you're stood here in your underwear! ... In front of... Hah, oh.

Blushing harder than a drunken man, you take it upon yourself to grab a flustered Todoroki's wrist and drag him into your dark apartment, shutting the front door so that the both of your forms are visible in the moonlight filtering through a large window only, it's pearly glow illuminating each and every one of your features.

Of course, he didn't let that happen without a "fuck, don't- don't grab me like that I-", but that doesn't mean anything serious, right?

Whipping your head around to face the poor guy, you raise your voice a little as you ask: "Okay, calm down. Stop stuttering for a sec, can you take your time and tell me what's wrong?"

Only a frustrated groan can be heard in return.

Then, out of nowhere, his mouth is forced onto your own and the mix between a pleased moan and a confused yelp that escapes you is something to be embarrassed about. Your face feels as if it's melting, the way his tall frame bends to reach you slightly and his newfound grip on your waist overheating you. You don't have time to decide whether or not you should kiss back as Todoroki soon separates himself and cuts your next hurried words off.

"Should we be doing thi—"

"I need you, I need you, it's so,"

His pleading stops to then continue into the crook of your neck, which you definitely did not give him access to. The tingling sensation his heavy hands leave behind as they're rubbing up and down over your hips sends you to heaven and back.

"So frustrating... I know we're friends and I really hate myself for ruining us, I swear, I'll never speak to you again Y/n, just please touch me. Anywhere you want." Todoroki's hushed, whiney voice alone is enough to make you moan, in fact it does. The hero's thick fingers slide beneath the handles of your panties, rolling them down on both sides with the movement for easy removal if you let him.

"You're moaning now oh fuck, nngh, I can't take this much longer. It hurts."

The words vibrate over your neck and he soon begins to leave openmouthed kisses on the heated skin, breathing heavier than ever. God, it feels so good to hear him beg for you, to experience everything you've ever wanted. But should you be feeling this right now? You've heard rumours of a certain "Lust Villain" around your agency enough times, and there's no denying their existence after what's just happened.

You begin to interrogate the derailed hero, removing him from you when you speak.

“Have you fought any villains today?”

Your fingers are suddenly in Todoroki’s two-tone hair, making it messier than it was before. He hums a low mmph and tries his best to give you an answer.

“I was- I have. They shot me with something,”

You can’t imagine how surprised you look as his eager hands find your asscheeks, ashamed of the slutty moans that flow straight from your chest.

“You said, hah, that you were in pain yeah?”

He squeezes, harshly. Gritting your teeth in order to control your voice, you force yourself to focus on his instead. It’s not until the texture of his jeans and the cold metal zip tickles your palm do you notice that he hasn’t spoken until now.

Holy shit, when did he take your hand?

“Right here, you can feel how hard I am, right?” Todoroki presses his forehead to yours, his body heat immediately making itself apparent on your skin.

He’s pushing your hand harder against his crotch, eyes closed whilst his other free hand is still cupping the soft flesh right underneath your ass. You can make out the distinct outline of his cock even through the thick denim covering, restricting it.

It’s instant relief when you dare to give an experimental rub with the heel of your palm, and the hero makes it very clear.

“Ah~” He whines deeply, feeling every drop of precum soak and stain his underwear.

The debauched sound causes your walls to clench straight away, and you give not even a second thought about helping him out. Wow, your resolve totally just threw itself out of the window.

Todoroki lets you drag him by the arm once again, this time with your bedroom in mind, although he doesn’t wait to cage your smaller form between himself and the kitchen counter. His hips are already nudging into your ass before you know it, and all you can do is lean forward over the solid marble and hide your flushed face. Then, he snakes his muscular arms around your waist, holding you closer with every thrust.

This is getting you so wet, pussy slicked up by your arousal and it hasn’t even been touched yet. His restrained dick is rock hard against you, twitching and jolting under his clothes.

The heat of your cheeks must be making your eyes water, because it’s getting increasingly difficult to see through the gaps of your fingers each time he occasionally grabs your hips to slam them back into his.

“Shiiiiit,”

Your glossy eyes widen a fraction at the aggressive growl emitting from behind you. He’s trying to hold back, you can tell.

Soft ah’s and oh’s disrupt the midnight silence, both of you unable to contain them. Until—

“Ohhhhh God… M' so sorry, I can’t wait any longer, you’re on the pill right?”

You respond with a cute, pathetic sniffle and a nod, still covering your face. The curve of your back arching even more once he stops moving, the lack of friction making you feel empty.

Without a single word, Todoroki swiftly tugs your panties down halfway and you cross your arms over the counter to nestle your head even lower. It’s awfully silent other than his laboured breathing and the jingle of his belt being unbuckled. The suspense is fucking killing you.

Faster and faster, he’s fucking his large hand to his current view: you, legs shaking and back arched, covered tits smushed into the cold marble. His brainwashed mind travels from ‘how far can her legs spread’ to ‘sliding along the counter must’ve been making her nipples so hard’. A slight glint of moonlight reflecting off of your leaking cunt catches his attention.

“Uhhhhh…” Drawing out his delicious moan caused by the sight, his upper body almost collapses atop of yours, but luckily he catches himself on the counter.

You jump when his middle finger unexpectedly parts your lower lips by dragging a quick line between them, halfheartedly checking in case you’re not lubricated enough as if you aren’t already drenched. Your clit pulses due to the fleeting stimulation, your little hole practically dripping and his quivering mouth opens with a silent moan.

“How- How are you this wet?” Todoroki’s in disbelief as he studies the thick coating of your slick around his finger, but seemingly insatiable desire quickly overpowers it.

The desperate hero sucks off every trace of your juices and doesn’t even bother to engage in further foreplay, he wouldn’t be able to cope much longer. He knows he probably should’ve gone about this in a way that’s more comfortable for you, but thinking straight is something completely foreign in this moment. Anyways, he knows you’re wetter than ever for his twitching cock. You’ll take him just fine. Right?

With serious haste, Todoroki forces his aching cock past your pussy lips and the sudden sensation paralyses you. Shock, pain and ultimate pleasure contort your facial features in ways that you’ve never seen, nor anybody else until now.

“Sh-Shoto—” you muffle loudly into the back of your forearm, inwardly panicking about your legs not being able to stay up for much longer. Todoroki’s hand frantically searches for your neck whilst he continues to push his throbbing dick inside of you. And when he finally can grab ahold of your throat, he lifts up your head to cover your mouth with his other hand.

From beside your head, he’s observing the debauched expressions that play out on your cute little face, tempting him to fuck you senseless like he currently has a choice. His palms are oddly completely different temperatures against your damp skin, definitely a side effect of his quirk. The hold around your neck is colder but isn’t uncomfortable at all, you find that the lack of air reaching your lungs is numbing the pain rippling from your core.

“So, tight, o-oh my god,” the hero groans between rapid breaths, pausing his sentence whenever your warm pussy squeezes around his pink tip too much. The further he manages to reach within your fucking guts with his long cock, the more frequent and harder his tiny thrusts are getting.

The tearing pain is starting to subside for now, your walls finally getting acquainted with his size. That is until his length enters areas totally unknown to even yourself. Your watery eyes clench shut immediately. Todoroki releases your throat as a would-be strained, guttural moan simultaneously rips from your chest, the lack of restriction from his grip causing the noise to increase in volume and heartiness.

“nnnnNGHAH!” The echoing sound is hardly muted by his palm, even when he tightens it against your plump lips halfway through. He may be completely under the influence of a lust quirk, but that doesn’t mean Todoroki’s forgotten what time of night it is. Nor about the group of people he can hear in the next apartment over.

Suddenly, he’s completely stilled behind your weak, shivering form. It takes a few seconds for you to notice that he’s stilled your body too. His previous grasp on your neck seems to have situated itself within your tangled hair, big clenched fist having yanked on a handful to steady your movements. Typical late night city ambiance and laboured, heavy inhales and exhales through your noses are the only things audible to you.

You feel the hard throbbing and twitching of his dick everywhere in your lower half during this bout of silence, the heavy pressure of it leaning into your clenching walls almost unbearable. The way he’s keeping his hips pressed to your bare asscheeks with so much strength. And how his chin is nearly resting on your shoulder, shaky fingers gripping the furthest edge of the counter just proving his intimidating size. You need him to move. Surely he must be dying to, no? He said it was painful… so why isn’t he movi-

Your feeble attempts to wiggle around within the cage of Todoroki’s muscular arms instantly make every inch of his body coil impossibly tight around your own.

“Stop, gah! moving... Listen.” his usually soft, calming voice is rough and breathy next to your heated ear. A demand.

Trying your hardest to focus, you open your tired eyes and almost zone out whilst your ears are searching for whatever he wants them to hear. There’s nothing?! You’re about to speak up, about to beg him furiously just to fucking moveeeee when you finally catch on.

Only faint, yet still noticeable if you aren’t miles away in La La Fuck Me Land. Excited teenage chatter… clinking glass bottles and… oh great. Your new neighbour. You’d previously ran into her a few times on your way home, a quick wave and a smile and whatnot. Both of you were on good terms, but the thought of being known as that type of neighbour is scaring you. What if her friends already heard your embarrassing sex noises— what if they’re all laughing at you right now, not just some random joke or celebratory cheers?

“Tch- Tchodoroki, thatsh my new neighbour.” His hold on your mouth is so strong now that your words are close to being a string of incomprehensible hums.

“Look, I wanna move so, fucking, badly. It’s literally killing me to be inside you like this, when—”

You furrow your brows in confusion when the hero pauses out of nowhere, but they soon bow pathetically once you realise his prominent abs are tensing up against your back. Your heart flutters as Todoroki hurries to rid of his pesky shirt and throws it to the tiled floor. He then practically tries to rip your own shirt off before it reaches your head, urging to grant it the same fate strewn across the floor.

The tiny movements of his cock are gonna drive you nuts, you think.

“When I can feel you dripping down my thighs and you’re making me feel so fucking hot, I, just… If I move, Y/n, you’ve gotta promise me you’ll be quiet. I can’t risk being seen exiting your home after so much noise, promise me.”

Anything.

“Promisch.”

That’s all the hero needs you to say before driving his pelvis to thump against your asscheeks, his leaking cock hardly leaving your cunt just to be rammed back inside. You manage to suck in a panicked gasp through Todoroki’s thick fingers. He’s barely started and he’s already reaching places nobody else ever has. Just how big is he?

You’re almost embarrassed by the saliva that escapes your lips and wets his palm, but if anything, he’s fucking loving it. It’s only an incentive to fuck you so much faster, harder than before, just to keep you drooling for his dick like a thirsty slut.

The pace of his thrusts increases as well as the ear ringing slapping they bring with them. You can hear everything, everything him. Only Todoroki. Every obscene squelch coming from between your legs, every ragged, shaky breath he breathes, every word that just comes tumbling out of his mouth without warning.

“Ah, you’re so slutty for me— Mmmm, god I love it so much.”

For a second there you might’ve forgotten who’s cock you’re being pounded by if you didn’t have his voice memorised. You’ve never once heard the man say such dirty words, but damn if it isn’t the best thing you’ve ever listened to.

He’s practically jackhammering into your sloppy pussy now, set on achieving only one goal: to cum. He’s been trying to keep his aching pain on a low for too long, he needs to reach his high or else he might go insane.

If Todoroki wasn’t under the influence, you’d definitely have something to say about the lack of stimulation he’s providing you. But even then, with the way he’s repeatedly bullying your cervix to no avail, you’d hardly be able to form the right words to say. It’s something about the way he’s desperately pulling on the counter with all his strength just to fuck into you, you can’t think straight enough to worry about it chipping beneath his grip.

“Lower, lower,” the hero orders and bites the shell of your ear, and you’re trying to string a coherent sentence in your foggy mind to ask him what he means before the hand tangled in your hair manoeuvres your head so that your fucked out face is smushed into the cold marble. Your back arches as far as it can, making Todoroki comb a clammy hand through his usually neat fringe whilst forcing your back down with his elbow.

Somehow, this position allows his length to brush up and down the perfect spot inside, and you don’t think you can hold another noise in with the euphoric, tingling sensation crawling all the way along your spine.

Well, that “promisch” didn’t take much to break, did it?

“Fu-u-uck!” The sudden change of volume in the room startles him and even yourself, you had no idea that you could be so vocal. You gain the courage to make worried, guilty eye contact with the hero. Let’s just say, you can’t regret your choice.

Looking at him with his back straightened, alarmed and wide eyed like a deer in headlights, fluffy two-tone locks astray and messy, a sheen of sweat glazing his forehead and threatening to drip… pastel irises almost swallowed by his dilated pupils. Pretty… so fucking pretty. The sight alone causes your already constricting walls to clench even harder around Todoroki’s jolting cock, and he wonders how the fuck you haven’t pushed all of him out yet. He can’t move with your pussy gripping him like this, but it doesn’t seem like he has to try when you say:

“Todoro-ki, I wanna cum too, p-please don’t,”

You take a deep breath of air like his dick had been taking it away from you all the is time and continue.

“Tease me… like this…”

The newer tears forming in your eyes, paired with the words you say don’t give the man any time to gather self restraint, as he’s already began to cum.

His seed paints your insides icy white, the temperature of it driving you crazy. The expression he’s wearing whilst his hot cum fills you up is something you’ll never forget. Eyebrows dipping, nose slightly scrunched, eyes clamped shut and gorgeous lips trying and failing to conceal the moan behind them.

“Nngh~haha—” a breathless, overwhelmed laugh follows the unholy sound, the intensity of his orgasm being anything but funny.

You can’t see it, but you can feel all of it. There is already so much of him coating your sensitive core. You swear it’s starting to trickle down your thigh more and more each time Todoroki's hips continue to make contact with your lower half. Warm cum being pushed in and out of your tight hole, some of it being splattered upon your kitchen tiles by the strength of his thrusts. Even with hardly any room given between you both he's still managing to fuck into you so hard, with so much power. Hunger and desire.

His legs are trembling, as are yours. You can't imagine how exhausted he must feel after enduring the symptoms of that quirk he fell victim to, draining the last of his energy to chase the insane discomfort away. You almost forgot about his situation purely because he's making you feel so damn good. You know he's using your body as an outlet, you would be a fool for thinking there's more to these circumstances than there actually is.

“Nngh, you...okay?” you ask sweetly, trying to whisper, and Todoroki dons an adoring, appreciative smirk at your attempt to look out for him even whilst being fucked stupid.

Oh, he's fine.

If he's being completely honest he doesn't know whether or not he should be thankful for today's events or if he should be pissed off fucking rotten.

“Yeah, yeah.” He sighs with his tiny smile morphing into a pleasured grimace, still slightly amused by your concern despite his current state.

Of course he's okay, you could say he's having the time of his life right now. The hero may be under the control of an aphrodisiac of some sort, and he may not be able to think straight, but he's got one thing down for sure: He wanted this— you, sober or otherwise.

You'd clearly been on his brain the moment he got attacked, and maybe the moment before that one, and the moment before that moment, even. But that doesn't mean it was that quirk urging him to fuck you, oh no. Todoroki had that part planned way before, all this is just a minor adjustment to his schedule.

“Shhhhhoto, you're so lou.......”

Are you talking to him? Anyways—

Yes, that orgasm was the most intense 15 seconds he's ever experienced, but he feels guilty for it. What if you think he's using you? Actually, that's true, but USING using you? This is what's pissing him off. He could've been jackhammering you, stone cold sober right now without a worry. You would know that he's serious about you.

But then again, he could've just gone back to his place and fucked his fist until the effects wore off. Yet he's here, fucking you to no avail. God, he wants to see how your perfect face looks when you cum so hard on his dick. Needs to rough you up and make you want him 24/7. He must. Now.

Todoroki, line of vision lowering in a lusty, irritated daze, is dragged under by a series of utterly euphoric waves as soon as his trance is shattered by the sight of your little cunt barely able to take the entirety of his fat cock even with him pressed so hard against your quivering body.

The view is making him so weak, so grateful for you. Letting his head hang for a few seconds, he forces his eyes shut in case he rushes to earn another orgasm again. He won't let himself cum unless it's with you. The pain is nothing more than a challenge to him, just a means to see how long he can last until he can't take anymore—

“Fuck! Ple-hease, please!” you're literally sobbing now, too tired to face the hero.

Shit! Why're you being so loud!?

...It seems that you're not the only one who's suddenly increased the volume, either.

“Grr! Mmph, oh my fucking god,” Todoroki has been getting louder this entire time, had you tried to tell him just then? His own growling and groaning through gritted teeth is causing his ears to ring after zoning out for so long.

Honestly, fuck the neighbours, either of you could give less of a shit at this point, you're too lost in the feeling.

On impulse, he snakes an unsteady hand around your hips to immediately rub soft, weak circles on your puffy clit. His fingers are burning hot to the touch which is only increasing the sensitivity of the bud. Not to mention the perfect amount of pressure he's rubbing you with just increases the pleasure tenfold.

The tears rolling down your face and gathering on the marble beneath eventually soak into your hair, but you can't control yourself with him pounding your poor pussy this fast and—

“HUH! Shit, shit, shit!”

You bite down the urge to scream in pleasure when Todoroki quickly leans over to busy his other hand with one of your tits, rolling and flicking your nipple, simultaneously keeping you steady by forcefully pulling your body flat against his broad, sticky chest.

Yeah that’s right, atta girl, he thinks to himself.

Now that he's stimulating two of the most vulnerable parts of you, you begin to lose it. You're pleading, begging the man to “keep going, keep going, don't stop!”, and you're convinced that if he does stop, takes away your detrimental release, you might even die.

“Cum with me,” the feral hero demands with that irresistible voice into the crook of your lolling neck, “cum with me, baby.”

Jesus, fuck! This is so intense! So close, so close, so close-

!!

“Cumming—!”

All you can manage is a tiny, strained pathetic cry before crashing down in his hold, shivering body nearly paralysed with overstimulation as you squirt, helplessly tensing up with Todoroki's fingers still toying with you.

He’s rubbing you through your orgasm just as his own hits him like a brick.

“Hmph, hmph, huh, Y/n!”

The man can hardly fucking breathe as the high courses through his veins, and he has to squeeze you hard due to the sheer amount of pleasure from watching you squirt all over his fingers, and relief from that damn aching pain swiftly fading away.

.

.

.

“…I wanna take you out for dinner tomorrow.” (Sober.)

“No, no it’s okay Shoto. You.. you don’t have to make it up to me.”

“Make it up to you? It’s not like I was using you, I could’ve chosen anybody else. Notice how I’m not apologising for that specifically.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You’re even more shocked to the core to see a few tears sliding down Todoroki’s cheeks when you crane your head around in disbelief.

“Um! Are you okay, still?”

The serious grasp on your torso lightens, and you can feel a messy head of hair pressed into the side of your face. He grins and blesses you with an uncharacteristic wheezy chuckle, absolutely fucked out for the night.

Neither of you have to say a word after that as you help each other clean up, even though you’re both desperate to get the hell into bed and pass out.

A comfortable, happy silence.

/-/-/-/

“I’ll pick you up at five, that sound good?” Todoroki says as he’s on his way out of your apartment.

You shout excitedly from the bathroom, soaking in the bubble bath he so adorably prepared for you before you woke up, “Yup!”

Your agreement paints yet another relieved smile on the hero’s face whilst he end the conversation with an “alright”. He feels like a total loser grinning like this, he admits to himself, making sure your front door is shut properly before spinning on his heel.

Oh, but that smile doesn’t linger for too long.

He’s met with your next door neighbour, face to face. She’s holding her keys, in the position she was in before she spotted his recognisable face, about to unlock her door to put down her grocery bags.

Todoroki’s expressions falls instantly, morphing into a terrified grimace.

“I will literally pay you—”

“I won’t say a word, take my details if you don’t believe me.” She offers him a soft, trustworthy look.

‘Phew’ may as well have been written on the man’s forehead. But wait!

“Don’t… Don’t say anything to her, okay?” He gestures to your door, knowing full well that you’re at peace with the situation after forgetting about your audience, relaxed in your little bubble bath without a worry in the world.

“Understood.” She nods politely.

“Have a nice day.”

/-/-/-/

[iwaasfairy]

HEAR ME OUT HEAR ME OUT

bachira nii who is just the best and sweetest big bro!!! he's always so attentive and so clingy to you! there's not a single moment that you go without having him touch your tits or kiss/lick your neck, he might even just feel up your pussy to make sure you're wet!!

he loves his lil sis so much, he cant help but fuck you as if you're his personal fleshlight. expect him to breed u like a bunny and dont stop until you're overflowing with cum ♡♡♡ oh and dont worry about holding back your moans! he loves to hear them and he loves when you cry out his name! mommy yuu wont mind that her two children r keeping it in the family :)

i heARD AND I RAN okay i spent the wHOLE DAY thinking about this yesterday hhhhgftdsguyfdisgi

tw incest, dubcon, codependency

He likes the shape of your mouth. He likes it so much. Enjoys kissing it, watching it, puffy lips and raw, likes hearing the little sounds that come from you when he claims that mouth. He even likes the way you say his name, his name that’s been called a thousand different times in a thousand different ways. But you say it differently still, cherish it on the tip of your tongue as he pulls your face closer in the evening glow and stares. “Meguru nii,” you say it all pouty and knowing, chest puffed with it. You say it like you know what comes next— and it only feeds the thirst that trickles down his muscles and aching heart.

When he doesn’t answer it, and he doesn’t, can’t, you grow restless and fidgety, and he gets to hear his name in a wholly different way, one reserved for only you. It pushes your lips to the brim with how cute and pouty they can be, without being kissed to shreds by him. “Ru nii~” you beg.

And he answers it by pushing you down onto his bed and pulling the covers a little further over you, until the world is almost completely shut out from the both of you. He lies down on top of you this way, caging your body under him— how he likes it. How the monster says it’s meant to be. And the heat that plays over your cheeks is nothing but further encouragement, because you look so damn pretty when the lowest light catches the glittering of your teary eyes.

“I’m supposed to be in bed. I’ve got an early cl-mhm!”

He kisses you square on the mouth, or teeth, no matter, because when his hands slide along your sides and start fondling your soft tits, tugging at sweet, puffy nipples— it’s all too easy to get you to play along. “I just wanna play with my little sister a little,” he breathes into your mouth, and you hum. You always hum so softly, like his word is truth, or gospel. “Just a little bit more, m’kay? Then you can go to bed.” The assurance calls for another drag of his name, that filthy mockery of the word ‘niichan’ that you have long mastered. It draws all the blood from his conscious thought to his hard cock as he grinds it against your pussy.

Picking at the bow of your panties, at your tits through your shirt- you curl under him and under his tongue, his hands, his twitching, leaking cock and balls like his own personal little toy. No, play-date. You always used to be his play-date growing up, and though the word has taken on -slightly more insidious- interpretations, it still fits you so well. Peeling your panties halfway down your legs to push the head of his cock into that dripping little slit is all too easy when you’re going “Ru nii, Meguru nii~” over and over so obliviously, unapologetically needy.

“You love your big brother?” He asks, and you nod, and it sends a spike of heat through his heart and makes him bottom out inside his own little sister with a groan. “I definitely love you. The most, love you- t-the most.” The covers won’t drown out the way you’re whining as he uses all his weight to fuck deep into you, your knees pressed to your ears and your tongue wrapped around his fingers. It doesn’t shield the squeaking of the bed and the rhythmic ‘pap, pap, pap’ of his balls hitting your ass each time he bottoms out. It doesn’t even cover the way he breathes your name back like he should, like he knows will get you there again and again.

But it’s not a lie when he leans down for a few seconds to pull your mouth back to his, tangle wet tongues and take what he needs from that pretty mouth of yours, and says, “You’re fine, just cum. Just cum on niichan's cock, you'll feel good. It’s okay. Mom wants her two babies to get along.”

[jangmi-latte]

1:56 𝐀𝐌 — 「 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃!𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 」

flexible au. you can think if you're royalty, an influencer, a famous artist, etc. mostly...thirsts...

bodyguard!rook whose reflexes are fast enough to immediately shield you from any perpetrators or push/grab any person who'd dare come near you no matter how fast they approach you. a confident man when it comes to his physique and abilities to protect.

bodyguard!rook who'd easily and swiftly hide you from unwanted attention using his body and coat. pulling you close to him while he fast walks speedily enough for you to be able to follow him while he protectively keeps an eye out on all corners.

bodyguard!rook who's your close friend behind closed doors. someone who'd hold his palm out under some papers you're writing on when there's no table to flat platform closeby for you to write on. someone who'd hold the edge of a table, cabinet door, vehicle ceiling, etc. when you climb or stand up so you won't hit your head.

bodyguard!rook who removes his coat when you're feeling uncomfortable with your outfit or when it's too cold and wraps it around your body.

bodyguard!rook who's all smiles and warmth but immediately grows serious and focused when it comes to your sake. especially when he knows your safety is his number one priority at the moment.

bodyguard!rook who knows how to reroute areas where there's less people so you can easily walk and look around while he holds your stuff. he'd immediately take your shopping bags once the staff bags your items without you having to even touch the handle and hand it to him.

bodyguard!rook who always has either a gun to his body or his bow and arrow nearby just in case of emergencies. if you're afraid of the sound of guns or the sight of a fight, he'd make sure you're safely hidden away where you won't hear or see what's going on. coming back to you perfectly fine just like he always promised.

bodyguard!rook who's there to catch you during your clumsiest moments. whether you nearly run into a pole/wall, trip on the stairs or your own two feet, nearly drop something you're holding, etc. he's immediately there to avoid any more accidents and makes sure to double check everything. and would probably make sure you're paying double attention to what you're doing.

[the-whispers-of-death]

Reader is male & his hair is described to be long enough to reach his nape (long hair symbolizes a time of peace in his culture). I just made up kingdom names. Part One, Part Two

**

After a morning in council with your advisors, seeing to your subjects and their grievances, you were in desperate need of some stress relief. So you put on your armor and made your way to the training courtyard where veteran knights and trainees alike where training, your hands itching to have a sword in them.

"My king!" Several knights around the training courtyard cried out at the sight of you, bowing. But your eyes were trained on Ghost, who ha stopped the training match he was overseeing.

"Sir Ghost, I wish to spar with someone. And I figured you were the best knight of mine to spar with," you said, walking over to Ghost. You smiled at him, able to look him into the eyes easily since you were around the same height. "If you're up for it, of course. If not, I can spar with someone else."

Ghost shook his head. "No, I can spar with you, my king." He gestured for someone to bring you both training swords and shields. "It would be honor to help you keep your swordsmanship skill sharp."

You laughed at that, placing your hands in gloves before taking a training sword out of the two you were given and taking a shield in the other hand. "Are you keeping my swordsmanship skill sharp or am I keeping yours sharp?" you teased, waiting until he held a sword and shield before getting into position.

"How about both, my king? Neither of us can get rusty."

You nodded in response and those were the last words spoken between you two as Ghost strikes first, swinging his sword. You parried with your own and pushed him back, quickly striking back just as quick as he struck first.

Since they were training swords, they barely made dents into either of your armors. Still, the act of swinging and wielding the sword was enough for you, enough for you to love the thrill it gave you to spar with your knight.

Parry, block, strike.

The movements seemed so rhythmic, your sword and shield an extension of yourself. Even then, exhaustion was wearing on you both as you could feel it settle in your bones and see his balaclava and white mask start to get soaked with Ghost's sweat. Your movements were starting to slow down, but neither of you were giving up yet.

That was, until Ghost unarmed you. One second you were thinking of parrying his upcoming strike, the next he was sending your sword flying in the air and away from you. You heard it clang against the ground, signaling the end of the match.

"Well done, Sir Ghost," you said, panting. A small smirk made its way onto your face. "Though I'm quite glad that my knight is good enough to best me. Means I'm placing my life in the right hands."

Ghost straightened up from his hunched stance, nodding. "You gave me a run for my money, my king," he said, though that might've been to make you feel better about losing the match.

You chuckled and followed him to where his canteen of water was, watching him pull up his balaclava enough to reveal his mouth. You greedily watched him take a sip of water, a few drops dripping from his mouth and down his chin.

He must've seen you watching him because as soon as he finished drinking from the canteen, he didn't cap it again, instead he offered it to you. "Are you thirsty, my king?"

"Oh, I can't drink from your canteen, it's yours. I'll be fine," you replied, trying to refuse the canteen, but he wasn't having it.

"Nonsense, you must be thirsty after out sparring. Drink, I don't mind," he murmured, his gruff voice softening just softly.

Ghost didn't let you hold the canteen, instead tilting it himself so you could drink from it. Your eyes closed as the water hit your tongue. It was an intimate gesture, but everyone else in the courtyard was too busy training to watch you two.

You made sure not to drink too much of his canteen, pulling away when you were done. "Thank you."

You watched him cap his canteen again, nodding in response to your thanks. Silence washed over you two for a few seconds and you were about to excuse yourself when he spoke.

"You seem troubled, my king." Ghost turned to you once his canteen was set down on the bench again. "Come, sit with me please. Talk to me."

He sat down on the bench and you hesitated before sitting down. Your weary bones felt relief at sitting down. Sure, you best the morning sitting on your throne, but you hadn't relaxed since you woke up, not until now.

"My advisors are worried that I don't know how to rule this kingdom during a time of peace," you murmured, your voice soft so no one else heard word of your advisors basically thinking you were unfit to lead the kingdom during an era of peace.

It was true that when you took the throne from your father when you were twenty-four, Eridies had been in war with Loria for at least a year and the war lasted until six months ago which meant the kingdom had been at war for eight years. Your reign had started with war and a warrior king was what you had been for eight years. Just because you ushered peace to the kingdom, didn't mean that you knew how to keep peace.

Ghost huffed at that, clearly thinking differently. He hesitated for a few seconds before he rested his gloved hand on your knee.

"My king, you've been doing a wonderful job of ensuring the peace you've won stays. You might have been a warrior king for the past eight years, but you've had a kind heart and a heart of a peaceful king. You care about Eridies, its people," he said, rubbing his thumb against your knee. "I have no doubt you'll continue to keep the peace alive."

Your eyes flickered from his hand on your knee to his own eyes, holding eye-contact.

This man, a man you had never fully seen his face, was a steady presence by your side for the past eight years. You never went into battle without knowing he'd be covering your back, your own personal shadow. You knew him like you knew yourself, he was like a sword; an extension of yourself. You didn't know what you were like without him and you found, you didn't want to know what life was like without him by your side.

A smile graced your lips and you rested your hand on his, squeezing it gently. "You know, I think as long as I have you, I won't mind listening to the people's grievances over one farmer stealing the other's crops," you said, intending on lightening the mood.

Judging by the soft chuckle, a sound only you managed to get from him, your response had its intended effect. Ghost turned his hand over so your palms were facing each other and he could intertwine his fingers with yours.

He knew what he was doing was dangerous. He should be keeping his distance from you, but you pulled him in like no other. Every time he wanted to pull back, his heart drew closer to yours. It felt like your soul was intertwined with his, trying to come together to form a whole soul.

"I'll be by your side for as long as you need me to, my king. As long as you'll have me."

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

[wayfayrr]

I just remembered how sometimes I yell at Link when he does something that annoys me, like if I’m trying to walk across a really skinny plank but he accidentally walks off/falls off, or when I’m trying to run from an enemy but he starts climbing a tree instead. I’ll just be like “Link no! Get off the stupid tree omg ur gonna die!” Or “Link! Stop falling off the platform! I just wanna get to the top already!” Would he be mad at me for yelling at him? Sad? …..?

Then there’s an unrelated issue that isn’t his fault that my controller sometimes drifts, so he’s walked off cliffs before bc it was drifting slightly forward and I didn’t notice. The most annoying one on my controller is when the motion control stops working and I’m trying to aim my bow and arrow but it freezes so I have to quickly manually flick the analog stick so it works again but by then I might’ve already gotten hit. Is he mad at me for these problems?

Oooooooh! Then there’s the whole having to scroll thru the whole menu options when u wanna attach something to ur arrow. Ugh that takes forever! Like I wanted a bomb flower but now I want a keese eyeball and that’s all the way at the other end of the menu! Is he frustrated w that? (Ik technically it’s “paused” when I do that but let’s say he’s still conscious when I’m doing that it’s just everything around him is frozen in time. So like he’s just crouching there waiting for me to finally attach an eyeball lol).

Or what about the sages?? I love them all so much but trying to find them (and the right one when u have all of them) and activate their ability is sometimes annoying. I’ll want Sidon’s shield for a second but instead Tulin does his gust. Or when I’m just trying to pick something up he’ll blow it away lol. What does Tears think of that?

Sorry this got so long. I understand I had like 4 ideas in this ask, they all just came into my mind at once lol.

I think he'd get a bit upset over you yelling at him, he gets that you're worried that he'll get hurt but it's not always his fault? sometimes sure but it's just starting to hurt his feelings more than anything. when you're playing he's just a puppet in your hands and as much as he loves you he's still 'a person'. if you struggle to even put him anywhere near that position soon then well, it's not like you can yell at him again for it right? he doesn't want to upset you after all.

I don't think that he'd ever blame you for console defects like that, hell he could even be behind a good number of them, it's not your fault the game is buggy. The only time he could ever be bothered by it is is you close out of the game because its so buggy, if the game is getting to the point where it's bordering on unplayable he still can't blame you but it'll get under his skin so much more. is he not good enough for you? is his game not good enough for you to work through the glitches? don't be surprised if you can't exit the game or turn off your switch for a bit :3 surely nothing has gotten corrupted or broken beyond repair right? No he hasn't sabotaged it himself, how could he - why would he?

The menu is honestly pretty sucky at times for throwing items and sticking them to your arrows, besides from reshuffling it to get what you need to be closer to where you start scrolling from. I think tears is most likely to get irritated at the games own design for that, because it'd be so much easier for him to just grab what you needed from his pad to fuse it onto one of his arrows but he just can't, he's stuck having to abide by the rules of the game, watching you struggle with the admittedly awful UI Nintendo cursed him with. If he wasn't so stressed about you resetting him - or worse reporting your 'faulty' copy of the game. he'd take his own steps to make it better for you - maybe he'll even do it earlier if you carry on struggling like this. He just needs to get more confident about it <3

the sages probably mess with him so much, he wants you ALONE and now he's constantly got these guys running around him?? he's gotta interact with them to try and get his abilities (lwk this could make him more jealous of wild who gets to have you one on one all of the time) And most of the sages abilities are optional anyway so I mean, maybe you won't notice if he simply disables them right? he won't delete them outright so if you miss them you can use them but if you don't reactivate them? maybe he could.... so then it'll be just you and him, just link.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

oh!! Oh!!! Lamb with a reader who taught him how to use the red crown as a gun!! Reader is flexing their talent like "haha yeah I was shamuras best (and like only) shot >:)" and follower shamura (who is maybe readers s/o??) is just like "I vaguely remember a report coming of you shooting one of the windows of my temple...." but lamb and reader have that vibe thats like older cousin younger cousin that cause chaos at every gathering their both at

"What is this..?"

"My, you've done it! The power of a blunderbuss now belongs to you, dear Lamb."

"The blunder...wha..?" Tilting their head, Lamb stared at the rather odd weapon the Red Crown manifested itself into recently, before looking back at you.

You're a weapons expert from Silk Cradle, becoming an apprentice of Kudaai to better hone you combat capabilities while in service to Bishop Shamura. Although you were good with blades and arrows, the old bird allowed you to indulge into a different type of weaponry:

The blunderbuss. A powerful weapon that shot magic bullets, the damage dependent on how close your target was.

Its potential drew you towards it--like a moth to a flame--and you began studying it, utilizing it in any situation where you had to fight for your life. Even after winding up in Lamb's cult, they allowed you to keep the weapon so long as you didn't raise it against any of their followers.

You wouldn't dare to.

Not after seeing their incredible power gifted by the One Who Waits...who was now the cult's undertaker for the day, tending to the crypts and all the dearly departed who laid within them.

From the moment you heard Lamb had begun to harness their own blunderbuss, they seemed lost on how to use it, so they turned to you for an explanation.

You listened to their recounts of putting several holes through scamper heads, sniping flying beasts right out of the sky, and even making shield-bearing heretics recoil from the sheer force of the bullets.

"It's indeed a highly unconventional weapon," you told them. "Rarely known to anyone in the Old Faith except Shamura, Kudaai, and myself. But as you can tell...it beats the bow of a silly archer any day. They're dead before their arrow even made it out of the quiver."

"That is true," the sheep nodded, looking to their own weapon, the red eye staring back at them. "I notice that it refills on its own...but it took forever. I kept clicking the damn trigger, but nothing." With a small grumble, they glared at you. "I was in a tough spot, and had to use a curse to escape..otherwise I would've been dead--not that it matters..but it was annoying."

"I was going to mention that little tradeoff, Lamb." You chuckled softly. "With the blunderbuss, patience becomes your greatest virtue."

"Well..patience won't help when I'm surrounded by fanatics who are still making martyrs out of the Bishops, and I'm backed into a corner with little fervor, and I can't-"

"What of the Bishops?"

A raspy voice spoke, startling Lamb a little as you both saw a certain purple arachnid now standing over you two. Despite their menacing looks, their eyes were full of curiosity.

"A-Ah, Shamura."

"Shamura." You warmly greeted, patting the spot beside you. "Come sit. Lamb has an inquiry."

Wordlessly, they sat and glanced at the leader, waiting for whatever they had to say.

"Erm..what do you know about this?" They showed them the blunderbuss. "The people of Anchordeep and Silk Cradle supposedly have the most advanced weaponry..yet I haven't seen one person wield anything like this. Were these outlawed or something?"

Without speaking or blinking, Shamura took it into their hands, examining it thoroughly. They seemed rather focused...although it could have been due to the fact the Red Crown had taken form of it, which made Lamb a bit nervous.

Even though the Bishops couldn't do anything with it now, they still got fidgety whenever it left their side for too long...and even more nervous seeing it resting in the hands of another.

"I see...I remember something clearly." Shamura spoke after a long minute of silence.

"You do?"

"The broken window of my temple...was supposedly from one of the magic shells. Who informed me? Not a clue..but I knew the guilty party." All of their eyes suddenly shifted to you, narrowed with suspicion.

You looked around, pretending to play dumb, before you pointed to a random follower. "You mean him?"

"....take me naught for a fool, [y/n]." They hissed. "You were always trigger happy. We have barred use of this from the fighting pit. As an old saying goes, "never bring a blunderbuss to a knife fight".....who said it? I cannot say. But I knew who didn't like that rule."

"You have to admit, though, I was your best sharpshooter." You winked, smiling as they handed the blunderbuss back to you. "The archers were all jealous that I had better aim. I did offer to teach them."

"You were always trigger happy. We have barred use of this from the fighting pit.."

"Yes we have. I'm the one who got it banned in Silk Cradle." Feeling a little awkward, you laughed nervously. "But it's good to see that somebody else is able to learn the art of gunslinging."

"Now that Lamb has obtained knowledge of this tool..." Shamura hummed. "..what are you to do with it?"

Your leader was silent for a few moments, wondering if they should mention shooting freefalling spiders and stopping charger bugs dead in their tracks....when you interjected.

"They still have much to learn about it. So maybe we could borrow some training dummies from Kudaai, and I'll help them improve their marksmanship....if they wish to learn, of course." Nudging their shoulder, Lamb perked up and gazed at you for a few seconds, surprised by your offer.

Then they grinned, a twinkle in their eye as their crown returned to their head, back to normal. "You'd teach me how to master the blunderbuss?"

"Why not? You've mastered every other weapon." Laughing softly, you stood up, before extending your hand to them. "Perhaps we can have Ratau set up old worm corpses for us, and I can show you how to aim for the most vital organs."

"Wouldn't those be the brain and the heart?"

"See? You're already learning well. You'll be a natural in no time, Leader."

Lamb's smile widened as they took your hand, standing up before you two set off for the Lonely Shack.

Meanwhile, Shamura remained on the ground, sighing as they pondered over the mischief you two will bring to that old rat and his friends..

And Leshy had the misfortune of overhearing those last few bits of your conversation, as he unearthed himself from the soil just a few feet away from his sibling, spitting out dirt.

"As if my minions dying wasn't disgraceful enough...Lamb and your silly "sharpshooter" will spend today desecrateing their corpses for practice?!" He shuddered. "They think so...alike."

"Have you not used dissenters for the same purpose, brother?"

"..I used to be chaos, Shamura. That's different."

[xoxo-sarah]

Done This Before

↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

↝warning: angst, Leah, inaccurate/ not canon events for Daryl meeting Dog and Leah, death (reader), mention of death, set season 9 when Daryl leaves to look for Rick's body or whatever, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl Dixon, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 1.29.24

In the aftermath of yet another loss, Daryl Dixon found himself haunted by the echoes of his past. The weight of grief and guilt bore down on him with unyielding force. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was cursed, that anyone who dared to get close to him would meet a tragic end.

As he stood alone in the silence of the night, memories of those he had lost flooded his mind. The pain of each departure cut deeper, leaving wounds that seemed to never fully heal. His rugged exterior, once a shield against the world, now felt like a prison, trapping him in a cycle of despair.

Your body laid limp in his arms, the feeling all too familiar to Daryl.

"You're not doin' it right." Daryl hissed, watching your fingers fiddle with the bowstring. He didn't mean to come off as irritated. Today was one of those days where he was woke up frustrated with himself and decided to make it everyone's problem. He had so much built up frustration and no where to let it out. Searching for Rick's body was solemnly for closure. For the both of you. You weren't supposed to join him on one random day. But you did. And you stayed, not wanting him to be alone with his thoughts. It was a good call, and as much as Daryl hated to admit it, he was thankful. That didn't stop him from lashing out sometimes. You didn't seem to take it to heart.

There were times where he wasn't mean. Those were the moments where you got to really know each other, find some similarities, make a few jokes. As time passed, you two did more joking and less arguing.

"The string is old, Daryl." You analyzed the frayed string.

Daryl yanked it out of your hands, grumbling.

"'s fine." He knew the bow was old and in need of a new string, he didn't need you telling him jack shit.

You two sat in silence as Daryl examined the bow now. He really should get that fixed, he thought.

Everything happened to fast. One second, you were kicking leaves around, stopping at the feeling of being watched. The next, you heard a rustling and felt a burning sensation on your right side.

The gunshot rang through the woods, scaring any animal in the opposite direction.

You were both caught off guard. It wasn't until your knees have out that Daryl moved, falling beside you. His eyebrows were nearly touching from his face being scrunched in confusion. He violently looked around, catching a head of long, light brown hair as the person ran away as fast as she could.

Unknowingly, It was Leah, someone who Daryl would shortly grow close to, that accidentally pulled the trigger. She had snuck up on you two, watching your interactions, contemplating if you were dangerous or not. She had her gun cocked and ready, waiting. A sudden squirrel running across her foot had her finger squeezing the trigger. Leah panicked and fled the scene out of fear and guilt.

Daryl brought you into his arms, running as fast as he could in the environment. He mindlessly ran in the direction of the closes community he knew of. But it was pointless. It would take far too long to get to any place that could possibly help.

He staggered through branches and bushes, yelling out in desperation, or anyone. It was an all too familiar feeling.

He had done this before.

He stopped at a river, watching the water flow through rocks. You gargled blood, looking up at him, listening to the water and the silence of the woods.

He gently sat you down, kneeling beside you.

You two just looked at each other as the life drained out of your eyes.

Daryl had silently apologized over and over again, feeling his eyes start to sting when you were gone. Officially gone.

Daryl's heart ached as he replayed the moment when he had to watch yet another loved one slip away, much like Beth had. The anguish was a relentless storm, threatening to consume him whole. He couldn't help but wonder if he was the common thread in these tragedies, the dark cloud that hovered over those who dared to care for him.

The flickering flames of the campfire cast dancing shadows across his face, mirroring the turmoil within. His eyes, usually steely and resolute, now betrayed the turmoil of his soul. Each passing day seemed to deepen the chasm of his despair, leaving him adrift in a sea of unanswered questions.

In the depths of his anguish, Daryl struggled to find solace. The very act of opening his heart to another felt like tempting fate, a reckless gamble with the lives of those around him. The burden of his perceived curse weighed heavily on his shoulders, threatening to crush him under its unforgiving weight.

As the night wore on, Daryl's thoughts became a tempest of self-doubt and pain. He was a lone wolf, forever condemned to wander the desolate landscape of his own making. The echoes of his losses reverberated in the stillness, a haunting reminder of the price of his affections.

In the quiet embrace of the night, Daryl Dixon grappled with the ghosts of his past, each one a painful testament to the fragility of life. The stars above bore witness to his silent anguish, a solitary figure adrift in a world that seemed determined to tear apart the very fabric of his being.

A twig broke behind Daryl, causing him to swing around, crossbow-which has a new bowstring- in hand, ready to kill. The puppy barked, looking up at Daryl, head slightly tilted.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[in-search-of-a-fallen-star]

that magic touch; hajime umemiya/reader

content warnings: descriptions of fantasy violence, injury, and blood. nothing too graphic but read ahead with caution.

fantasy au, cleric!reader and fighter!umemiya, established relationship. probably ooc but i couldn't get the idea out of my head.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

The fight had erupted out of nowhere. One moment, your party was walking down a wooded path, the next, you were beset on all sides by a group of bandits.

When the bandits had first struck, Umemiya had unceremoniously shoved you behind a tree, with an order to stay safe and a serious look in his blue eyes before he had pulled his helmet on and charged into the fray.

Steel clashed, the ringing of swords on swords filling the once quiet clearing. You watched from your position, hidden just beyond the treeline, as your party engaged the bandits. You're outnumbered at least two to one, but your friends are holding their own; you see Sakura flying through the enemy, a whirlwind of kicks and punches. Hiragi stands tall, his shield a bulwark that the enemies break against like waves.

At the front, his armor shining silver in the light, you see Umemiya, sword held high as he rallies your party to him. You glance behind him to see a shadow lurking, knife held poised to stab into the gaps of Umemiya's armor.

You curse, leaping out of your cover with a spell sparking to life in your hand. You should have been watching his back; you know Umemiya is too trusting, he always leaves his flank open, trusting that one of his friends will cover it for him.

Most of the time, he's right, but in this circumstance the rest of your party is battling their own opponents and Umemiya is about to pay for it.

You charge out of the treeline and hurl a crackling ball of radiant flames at the assassin behind Umemiya. The spell is a bit weak and a little off target; offensive magic isn't your forte but it does its job. The assassin lets out a howl of pain and reels back, giving Umemiya time to whirl around and cut down the attacker with a flash of his sword.

Several of the bandits break off from the group and run towards you- you've made yourself a target. Bracing for the incoming attack, you go through the motions of a spell, fire flickering at your fingertips as you summon a wave of flames between you and the enemy.

One of them lashes out through the fire with his sword, the tip of it catching the sleeve of your robes and cutting into the flesh of your arm beneath. You can't hold back the yell of pain, and retaliate with another ball of radiant fire. Your attacker stumbles back, and you see Hiragi slam them to the ground with his shield.

Hiragi looks at you, his eyes following the blood dripping from your fingertips and the way your arm hangs limply at your side. You wave him off, the glow of healing magic already forming around your uninjured hand. He nods and heads back into the fray; you run your healing magic along your wound, breathing a sigh of relief as the comforting warmth knits your torn skin back together.

The fighting slowly comes to a stop, the enemy's plan thwarted when you stopped their assassination of your leader. The survivors are left kneeling on the ground, heads bowed and hands tied behind their backs while they await judgement.

You make your way to each of your party members, healing magic sparkling at your fingertips as you heal their injuries. You can't help the laugh that escapes you at the way Sakura blushes when you take his chin in your hand to heal a cut bisecting his cheek.

He swats your hands away as soon as the spell finishes, stomping over to the prisoners with a shout about figuring out why they attacked you.

You look around and notice one missing. Hiragi meets your eyes and points in the direction of the river. You thank him and stow your staff before heading towards the sound of running water.

You see Umemiya sitting on a rock, the dappled sunlight shining on his armor and his helmet resting on the forest loam at his side. He straightens up at your approach, wide blue eyes uncharacteristically serious.

"I told you to stay behind," he says, pulling you towards him with a gentle hand behind your knee.

"And I did," you retort, crossing your arms over your chest.

"You ran out from cover and got hurt in the process."

"It wasn't that bad. I healed it already." You roll up your sleeve, showing just a stripe of pink, newly healed skin across your arm.

Umemiya takes your hand and presses a kiss to the healed mark on the back of it. "Just because you can heal yourself doesn't mean you should be endangering yourself recklessly," he murmurs quietly, lips brushing against your skin.

"I'm no more reckless than the rest of you," you sniff, rolling down your sleeve. "You always tell us that you trust us to watch your back, so you can't get mad when I do what you ask me to do."

He laughs, placing your hand against the warm skin of his cheek. He nuzzles into your palm and places a kiss against your skin. "You have a point," he admits. "I'm lucky to have you watching my back, especially today."

"You are lucky to have me," you smile, cupping his face with your other hand and leaning down to kiss the furrow in his brow. He wraps his arms around the tops of your thighs and buries his face in your stomach. "You know I'd do anything for you, Hajime."

"I do, that's what worries me," he groans, voice muffled in your robes. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me."

"Well, I don't want to see you get hurt either, so you understand how I feel," you say, stroking his hair back from his brow. "But we both have jobs to do that come with a certain amount of risk. I trust that you'll protect me, and you'll have to trust that I'll look out for you. If I can keep you from getting hurt I will, but I'll also do what I can to make sure that I stay in one piece so that I can patch you up when you do get hurt."

"So wise," he laughs, pulling his face out of your robes. "I can't argue with that." He stands up, looking down at you with a fond smile. "Let's get back to camp. I'll make us a good meal, I'm sure everyone's hungry after that fight."

You stop him with a palm against his chest. He looks down at you questioningly, and you lean up to capture his lips in a kiss. He immediately pulls you close, careful not to get his gauntlets caught in your hair.

"I wanted to get at least one kiss before tonight," you say when you pull away. "I'm pretty sure Sakura would combust if he saw us do that in camp."

[ominoose]

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬

Pairing: Leto Areides x Afab!Reader Prompt: Power Imbalance & Alien Summary: You wake up in an alien ship, being experimented on. Their leader offers "sympathy" and a deal. Warnings: Smut, extremely dubious consent WC: 1.7K

Kinktober Masterlist

Cold metal was the first thing you were conscious of when you groggily came to life, blinking wildly at the blinding white light above you. Basic instinct made you attempt to bring your arm up as a shield, but when nothing happens, panic blossoms in your chest.

Finally taking stock of your surroundings, it immediately registers that you are nowhere familiar. In your gut, something screams danger. In the back of your mind, processes grind to a halt. The room is like no architecture you have seen before, all curves, odd shades of beige and shapes that don't make sense. 

Looking down you're completely bare, laid flat on a glowing slab. There are no bindings and yet trying to move feels like trying to tug a limb out of cement. The sudden sob that manages to escape you lets you know your mouth at the very least is still in your control, but the only answer to your cries for help are not ones you want.

The wall across from you slides open on its own, and a group clad in white uniforms enter with vacant, almost bored expressions. The aesthetic is once again foreign to you, some of them with strange markings tattooed into their face, but they look human. Your gut warns that they are not.

Whatever they are, they lack in the basic empathy and compassion you would associate with the average human. Without hesitation they're upon you, prodding you with metal instruments, shining lights across your limbs. A searing laser carves a small line across your chest and with trained hands someone takes swatches from the blood pooling around the hollows of your ribs. 

Not once did they bat an eye at your tear stained cheeks, your screams. You couldn't even thrash away from them, completely helpless to whatever their whims.

You don't notice the door opening through your panic, only realising someone had entered when the group of scientists turn and bow.

The man immediately strikes you as regal, commanding the attention of all those in the room. His uniform is militaristic, with gold trimmings and braided cords laid against his shoulder. A well groomed, peppered beard shadows the lower part of his face but doesn't hide the lips set in a stern line. 

"Please, please, make this stop, I'm begging you, make them stop." Your begging is barely coherent, still struggling to catch your breath, your lungs being the only part of you still functioning as normal under the circumstances.

Shocked expressions litter the faces of everyone around you, giving rise to a feeling of immediate regret and fear within you. Clearly you weren't expected to have spoken, but given your situation you weren't going to waste a chance. 

Only a single, thick eyebrow raises at your outburst, the man's eyes raking over your coldly before he steps forward with calculated steps.

When he reaches you he regards you seriously, raising a hand to brush away a stray tear with a curled finger.

"I apologise for my people's lack of hospitality, this must be very stressful for you."

You nod fervently, hope flooding through you when he shares understanding, a realistic outlook on such a situation.

"You're dismissed." His eyes never leave yours as his voice booms across the room. The reaction amongst the group is immediate, all of them dropping what they're doing and leaving through the door in a barely orderly manner. 

Only your sniffling breaks the silence as he quietly rounds you, assessing you, eyes softening ever so slightly. His silence isn't what you wanted, and in desperation you venture further.

"P-Please let me go. I don't know what's going on but I won't tell the police. Please, I just want to go home."

Your words seem to confuse him for a moment before recognition sparks in his eyes and an amused smile plays at his lips.

"Oh, my dear, you're not on your planet anymore. You're aboard my ship. My name is Leto Atreides, I believe your people would class me as an alien."

Part of your brain clings to what your reality was, clings to the fact that aliens and abductions are science fiction. With white knuckles your mind desperately begs to be told the real truth, to turn and see a window that reveals a normal street. Another part of your brain seems to have already known this wasn't the case.

"I don't think now is the appropriate time for a history lesson. All you need to know is you were brought here a few months ago, in deep sleep, to be studied. Again, I apologise at how stressful this must be, I had hoped my scientists would have extended the hospitality House Atreides is known for but alas, I assumed wrong."

The more he attempts to clarify the situation, the more your mind is caught between shutting or breaking down. To you, only a few hours before had you went to sleep on a rainy October night, and yet in a defenseless state you'd been carted across galaxies without a clue. Never had you felt so small, and so desperate.

"H-How long will you keep me here? What are you going to do to me?"

As fresh tears stream down your face he frowns, brushing them away with his thumb.

"I'm truly sorry, but I cannot let you go so easily. I have many councils waiting on this research, as well as other Houses funding it. To simply let you leave would be not only dangerous for myself and my people, but for you."

He leans closer, eyebrows knitting together as he strokes your cheek. Through quiet sobs you lean into his hand as much as you can, relishing the small comfort.

"I cannot let you leave. However…"

Again, a spark of hope is ignited at his prodding, stoking you, stringing you along.

"I do pride myself on giving others choice and chance. What say we make a deal? Since you are giving your body to important research for my House, in return, I will give you my time and boons. It might not sound like much, but as Duke Atreides, I will hear you and in time will do my best to carve out a route for your freedom."

The husky voice lulls you into a sense of security, making sense to your trauma ridden brain. It continues to stoke the fires of hope within you. Powerless and naked in front of him, completely paralyzed, it's the only chance you have, dangled in front of you like a carrot.

"What do I need to do?"

It seemed like precisely the words he wanted to hear. With a satisfied smile he steps closer, his hand lazily stroking up and down the skin of your thigh.

"We should cement some trust for each other, primarily your own. You're completely alone here, worlds away from home. Allow yourself to trust me, let me be an ally."

The calloused hand strayed upwards, stilling over your abdomen. A warmth emanated over your skin, a sharp contrast to the cold prickling over the rest of your body, grounding you. Further you lowered your guard, allowing yourself to trust him.

When the hand strayed lower again, between your legs, you gasped. Unable to move, you had no way to jerk away from the rough finger that traced along the soft lips of your pussy. Instead, you could only stare as he looked down at you with an indescribable expression, drinking in every inch of you.

As soon as his finger prodded against your hooded bundle of nerves and your breath hitched, his eyes flew to your face. You recognised his steely expression now. He was observing you, just as those scientists had. 

You had little time to focus on the thought, the flame of hope only flickering out a little before he traced circles over your clit with his thumb. At the same time two fingers slowly entered you, curled and setting a steady pace. 

It surprised you to find yourself already wet, but you paid it no mind. With your eyes fluttering closed, still clinging onto the promises he made, you allow yourself to get lost in the familiar feeling building in your core. The heat was slow to spread over you, and without the ability to move you were forced to focus only on the growing pleasure.

Silently he slid a third finger in, increasing the pace more as his curled fingers hit the sweet spot deep within your walls. When your head jerked back ever so slightly as you whined and moaned, he was there to take it in, going harder, wet noises filling the air.

"That's it darling, give yourself to me. You can trust me." His voice reverberated within you, low and rumbling. 

Your defences were completely down now, walls clenching around his finger. Words wouldn't form in your throat and you were left a panting mess, straining to move yourself closer to him but frustratingly unable.

You were so close, and on his order you came apart.

"Cum for me."

His voice was a seething whisper and had such power over you, you wondered if you'd been injected with something. Your pussy became like a vice around his fingers as he let you ride out the orgasm, legs nearly cramping with the strain you tensed with. 

Wetness dribbled down the curves of your ass as he slowly pulled his fingers out. Staring curiously at the slick coating his fingers, Leto seemed struck by an impulsive thought. Bringing his fingers to his lips he sucked your wetness from his fingers, a tiny strand getting caught in the hair of his beard.

"Hm. You taste exactly like the women from Caladan." The musing seemed more for him than for you. Leto barely regarded you now, offering only a small smile and a pat on the leg before turning towards the door.

"I'll visit you again soon, my dear. Behave until then, and we'll see if I can't squeeze in some allowances for you."

Without a single glance back at you he left, leaving you alone in the alien room, wet slick drying between your legs.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

"Bonjour, dear Headmage!" Rook's voice resonates before the hunter appears out of seemingly nowhere, like usual. "Don't mind me, I just couldn't help but need to sate my curiosity. After all, for how long you've been here, not much is known about you. Where you're from, what's the extent of your powers, ce genre de choses (things like that). I'm not the only one curious, even: a little rose mentioned something along those lines during an impromptu visit of yours truly to his Alchemy class."

I believe the asker is referring to a voice line that Riddle has when Crowley drops into Alchemy for a Special Lesson. He wonders what kind of magic the headmaster must use--though knowledge of this line isn't necessary to enjoy this interaction.

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

It's odd, Rook had concluded, that he cannot discern anything meaningful about Crowley. It’s unlike the huntsman to be lacking in information, in details—but when it came to him, it became a jumbled mess. Unknown birthday, unknown home country, unknown past and powers. No records in any textbooks or formal documentation he could find.

All that was known was the name, occupation, height and weight. The bare basics. Hardly anything to work off of.

Rook regarded Crowley with curious eyes carved into emerald crescents. He provided his brightest smile, his warmest voice. He was a hunter laying out a nasty snare for his prey.

“By all means, I invite you to elucidate. I would personally love to learn more of our dearly beloved headmaster and his long and most illustrious career.”

“It seems as though my students have been gossiping about me once again… even my most studious boys!” Crowley mumbled to himself. (Rook’s hypersensitive ears had no issues picking up his words.) “Dear me, I’m too popular for my own good!!”

Then, addressing Rook in full, “I understand that you are all dying to know more about your dashing, intelligent, highly competent headmaster—however, prying into the personal matters of your teachers is not necessary to your pursuit of a magic education. I ask that you grant your instructors and myself our much-needed privacy.

“Adult matters are just that: adult matters! One day you will understand when you, too, get to be of that age.”

Rook's brows pinched ever so slightly. It's as though the briefest of clouds has passed by the sun, drowning out its light--but it returned, the momentary shift imperceptible to the naked eye.

“Je suis désolé,” he said, lowering into an apologetic bow. "I will mind my words when speaking to my superiors."

"Good, good! I shall be off, then. There are important snacks--" Crowley stopped and hurriedly corrected himself. "Erm, I mean important paperwork in my office which I must attend to. Enjoy the rest of your day, my student!"

The headmaster turned and started to make his way out of the courtyard. His back, exposed.

When the arrow came flying at his head, Crowley didn't flinch, didn't move--didn't have to. It froze midair, nowhere near its intended target, then dropped to the ground. A second later, a crystalline shield flickered into view, then vanished again.

Oh là là!

Rook's heart leapt with excitement. His interest, piqued.

Crowley craned his head back at him.

"Oops! Slip of the hand," the huntsman chuckled, not sounding so innocent with his excuse. He made no effort to hide the bow and a quiver he had somehow produced from his robes.

Bait left out to lure him in.

“Careful, Hunt-kun,” Crowley tuts, wagging a finger. “I may be a kind man, but even my kindness has its limits. I assure you, you do not wish to incur my wrath."

The headmaster--it was the same headmaster, harmless as ever, but... His shadow, it seemed to stretch along the path, taking on a new sinister shape. A monstrous raven, beak full of dagger-like teeth and blood-red eyes.

A chilling thrill bolted through Rook.

"That man seems so preoccupied with trivial matters," Riddle had once said. "It's difficult to believe he is a formidable mage."

Non, Roi des Roses. It appears that our headmaster is, in fact, quite the formidable mage indeed.

"... Bien sûr." Rook knelt, laying his bow and arrows on the ground. "You have my word. No more trickery or deception, fufu."

"Excellent! I'm glad we understand each other," Crowley chirped with the twirl of his cane. "Because I am so very generous, I shall overlook this transgression and allow you to be on your merry way."

He taped his lips together and whistled as he walked off. A cheery tune lifted up into the air like a bird taking flight.

Rook silently marveled at the beauty--and horror--of it.

[rocknroll7575]

Knight of Olympus: Titans Lullaby - Chapter 2: Hard Lessons

Forgot to post this here yesterday!!! Sorry! But please enjoy Chapter 2!

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The next day, as the campers were eating Jaune was informed about what his duties would be as the new Combat Instructor. He was to train them on how to fight and use their weapons properly, that part was more for the new arrivals, as well as helping them learn strategy, work together, and so forth.

Jaune was a little nervous but he calmed himself and he walked over to the armory, where he found his set of armor, as well as the rest of his clothes, so he put on his old shirt, and then the rest of his armor, and once he was fully dressed, he walked over to the weapons and he found a whole bunch of swords, spears, daggers, bows, and shields.

Jaune sorted through a bunch of swords till he found the right one, the weight of it was good and the balance was perfect. It was no Crocea Mors, but it would have to do. He strapped the sword to his side and then looked for a shield, fitting each one around his arms until he found the right one, and it too felt perfect, it was a little too round for his taste but a shield was a shield.

He looked at his schedule and that's when he saw that he had 5 cabins after breakfast ended.

He was going to have the Zeus, Posiden, Ares, Aphrodite, and Hephestus cabins, which seemed like a lot at first till he remembered that Chiron had told him Percy and Thalia were the only children in the Zeus and Posiden cabins.

As he waited, he had come up with a rather interesting way to test his own strength against the campers as well as get a feel for where they were in terms of Combat, and later he'd just have to do what Ms. Goodwitch did and pit them against each other in one and one combat at determine who needed help and who was rather good, but could still use improvement.

Finally, the campers arrived at the Armory and Jauje smiled at them as they gathered around him, he, of course, saw Percy as well as Thalia.

Once they all were in their respective cabins, Jaune decided it was time for introductions.

"Hello everyone, my name is Jaune Arc, and I will be your new combat instructor,"

Quickly a hand rose for a question.

Jaune looked at them, "Yes...?"

"Drew Tanaka," Drew replied, "I was wondering what God is your parent?"

Jaune smiled awkwardly, "Well, truthfully, I don't have a godly parent, I'm fully human!" Jaune said with a smile.

"But then how are you in camp? Mortals can't pass through the barrier," came the voice of Clarisse.

"Well that's because I'm not from your world," Jaune replied. "I'm a human from a completely different world, kind of like those superhero comics where some are from a different universe,"

Every Camper was shocked and that's when the uproar began, as they all scrambled to ask him a million questions.

Jaune smiled, "Alright! Alright! Settle down now, I'll answer all your questions on one condition..." Jaune began with a smirk, "The best fighters of each Cabin have to knock me off the amphitheater," Jaune said.

"Why there?" Percy asked.

Jaune looked at him with a smile, "Because there's more to today's lesson than just trying to get answers outta me," He said, "Now all of you get suited up and meet me there," Jaune said as he walked away.

As the kids were getting ready, Jaune walked over to the amphitheater, and as he did, he couldn't help but think about his new position now, he was going to be training kids now, who her half his age. Not to mention he would also be accompanying them on a few adventures, so not only was he training them, but he would be responsible for their safety as well.

Was he truly up for the task?

Jaune groaned slightly, "Ugh, is this how Ms. Goodwitch felt about us?" He asked himself.

After a brisk walk, he arrived at the amphitheater and not too long after he arrived, so too did the cabins. Jaune asked them all to sit at the seats and he watched as they all sat down and faced him.

"Good, now that you're all here, I think it's time to tell you what the first part of the training exercise will be," Jaune told them. "So as I've already said, each Cabin will choose their best fighter, said fighter along with the other fighters from the other cabins, will have to work together to push me off the theater or to make me yield,"

Clarisse chuckled, "Sounds easy enough," She said.

Jaune smirked, "But there are rules during this fight," He said. "One, no powers. Two, I'll let you all formulate a plan of attack before starting. Three, and this is important, if either one of you is knocked from the amphitheater, then you all lose and will be forced into my position while another set of fighters will attack you, understood?"

There was silence but the most nodded in agreement and understanding.

Jaune nodded, "Good, now of course, Percy and Thaila are already chosen, as for Ares, Aphrodite, and Hephestus, please choose your best fighters to come up,"

Thalia and Percy got up on stage with their respective weapons and were waiting for the other cabins, but in an instant, it seemed that Ares already had their pick.

"We choose Clarisse!" Said one of the boys from her cabin.

Clarisse got on stage with her spear and had a smug look on her face as she stood next to Thalia and Percy, which Jaine noticed didn't make Percy too happy.

A minute later, Hephestus had their pick.

"Charles Beckendorf will represent us!" Said a girl.

Charles stepped forward, dressed in his armor with a large Warhammer, but it wasn't as big as Nora's.

Jaune smiled at the young man as he walked onto the stage and gave Percy a high five.

Finally, after a good minute, Aphrodite had their pick, which turned out to be Drew, as she stepped forward, daggers in hand and wearing some light armor.

Jaune looked at the five with a smile, "Alright, you guys got 10 minutes to figure out a plan of attack starting... now!"

The five grouped up and Jaune watched them, and he saw that out of all of them, it seemed like Clarisse was the one arguing the most, dismissing a lot of Percy or Thalia's plans, and seemed to be the most stubborn and hit headed one of them all and seeing this, Jaune knew he could use it to his advantage.

The group broke apart and they all took a fighting stance while forming a half circle around Jaune, which made the blond smile, knowing the plan, but wondering who would strike first.

Acting quickly, both Thalia and Clarisse charged forward and trusted their spears at him from opposite ends of the half circle. Jaune quickly backed up from their attacks and smirked.

"Come on, can't the daughter of the God of War do better than that?" Jaune asked as he looked at Clarisse.

Jaune then saw Drew slide under their spears and quickly get up and run toward him. Jaune blocked one stroke with his shield and another with his sword, leaving her open to a kick to the gut from Jaune that sent her on her back.

Then, rushing at him were Percy and Charles, Percy was the first to get close and quickly tried to slash at Jaune but Jaune blocked with his shield and pushed Percy's sword away and then used the shield to strike the young boy in the chest.

Charles then rushed in and raised his Warhammer over his head and brought it down, but Jaune sidestepped the attack and the Warhammer struck the ground, causing a few cracks. Jaune then kicked out Charles's leg, causing the large boy to fall backward hard.

Jaune then saw Thalia and Clarisse charged in once more. Thalia was first and she thrust her spear forward, but Jaune managed to deflect the attack with his shield and then struck Thalia in the gut with the pommel of his sword, causing her to heeld over, and when Clarisse charged in and thrust her spear, aimed directly at his chest, but Jaune sidestepped the attack, turned the blade around and just like with Thalia, he used the pommel to strike her in the chest, causing her to grunt in pain and kneel on the ground.

Jaune stood over the Demigods with a smirk, "Is this what you Demigods are capable of? I Gotta say, kind of disappointed, I mean, I'm just a regular human, I expected more," Jaune told them. 'Rile them up, see if they can keep their cool, mostly Clairesse, see if they can salvage this and devise a better plan,' Jaune told himself.

They all slowly got back up and Drew looked at Percy and Thalia, "Any ideas?" She asked.

"We need to-"

Clarisse got up and glared at Jaune, picking up her spear, "What we need to is simple... rip him to shreds!" She cried as she ran ahead.

"Clarisse! Wait!" Percy cried.

Drew rolled her eyes in annoyance, "Gods damn it!"

Jaune dodged an attack aimed for his head, then ducked under it as she swung, and he backed up, Clarisse pulled her spear back and aimed for his right foot, but Jaune saw this and raised his foot as she stabbed the ground and Jaune quickly broke the head of the spear off.

"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?" Clarisse cried as she looked at her 2nd broken spear.

Now that she was distracted, Jaune knocked the rest of the spear out of her hand and put his blade right in front of her face. Clarisse froze up and her eyes widened, while at the same time, the others didn't move, as they realized the situation they were in.

However, acting quickly, Thalia used her foot to kick up her spear, grab it, and throw it at Jaune. Seeing the flying weapon, Jaune was forced to back away, giving Clarisse the chance to back away as well as allowing Percy to charge at Jaune with Drew behind him.

Jaune prepared himself and when Percy came in and swung at Jaune, he blocked it with his sword then saw Drew coming in, so he pushed Percy away and turned to Drew and swung at her, but she managed to block it with her daggers, but Jaune then used his shield to jab her in her rib, and then he kicked her away again, he quickly turned back to Percy and saw him coming swinging at him again, but Jaune blocked it, and Percy pulled back to swing again.

the two were now locked into a duel, with each one simply hitting the other's sword, Jaune looked around him and noticed that he was close to the edge of the amphitheater and realized Percy had pushed him in this direction on purpose, and that was when he saw Charles coming in with his Warhammer and quickly blocked it with his shield, and the blow rattled Jaune's arm but he pushed it away just in time to block another of Percy's swings and pushed him away. 

Thalia then appeared and she thrusted her spear right at Jaune's chest, hitting him, but when she looked at his face, he seemed unfazed, which confused her. Jaune then smiled at her and he decided to drop his shield and grab ahold of her spear, pulling her in when she was close, he grabbed her by the collar of her jacket, and with all his strength he threw her toward the edge, causing her to roll on the ground and fall off the stage.

Seeing Thaila fall off, the others knew that they had just lost.

Jaune smiled as he walked over to the edge and saw Thalia getting up and dusting herself off. "You alright?" Jaune asked.

Thalia looked at him with a smirk, "You mean besides my shattered pride? I'm fine," she said.

Jaune nodded, "That's the spirit," Jaune told her as he held out his hand for her to take and help her get back on stage.

"Where'd you learn to fight like that, Jaune?" Percy asked.

Jaune turned around and looked at the son of Posiden with a smile, "My home world," Jaune replied.  "Where I come from, we are taught to fight more than one enemy, because the creatures we fight sometimes hunt in packs,"

"That's pretty cool," Percy said with a smile.

Thalia nodded, "But what I wanna know is why you seemed unfazed by my attack, I hit you square in the chest with my spear man," she said.

Jaune smiled, "That's because of my Aura," Jaune said, "It's a representation of my soul and also a shield, it protects me from from any physical harm as long as it's not too damaged and breaks, but it also heals some small wounds,"

"That's amazing!" Drew said. "What else can it do?" She asked.

"Well it also helps boost my physical strength, speed, and stamina," Jaune said, "Then, there's my Semblance-"

"Wait, you have a 2nd power?" Charles asked.

Jaune nodded, "Yeah, it's called a semblance," Jaine replied. "We have to unlock it but each one is different, mine, for example, boosts my Aura to a far higher extent than anyone else in my world," Jaune said.

Hearing all this Clarisse stepped forward with a scowl, "Didn't you say no powers!? How is it fair you were using yours!?" She asked.

Jaune looked at her with a smile, "Well, you see, I wasn't using my Semblance at all, and Aura is kind of instinctive, like breathing, you don't think, you just do," Jaune replied. "So my Aura just immediately turned on when I saw Thalia's hit coming and it protected me, plus the reason I said no powers for you is because I wanted to see what you can do physically, I was told Percy and Thalia both have powers, but I didn't know about the rest of you, so I wasn't gonna take the chance,"

Charles nodded, "Makes sense, but just so you know in the future, I don't have any powers like Percy or Thalia, I'm simply resistant to extreme levels of heat," Charles told him.

"Kind of the same for me," Drew said. "The most I can do is see through Illisions, what with my mom being the Goddess of Beauty, she can tell when someone or something is fake," Drew told him.

"As for Clarisse-" Percy began with a smirk.

Hearing him begin to talk and mention her name, the daughter of the god of war turned to the son of Posiden with a glare, "Watch it Prissy! You don't know if I have powers or not!" She growled.

"Do?" Jaune asked with a raised brow.

"...No,"

Jaune nodded, "Noted, anyway, now can any of you tell me what you did wrong? And I'd also love to hear an answer from those seated if they have one," Jaune said.

Charles was the first to speak, "We underestimated you," He said, "We thought we had the advantage with our large numbers and we assumed you weren't as strong or as skilled as us in combat since you were a human," Charles said.

"Very good, Charles," Jaune said with a smirk,

Hearing his full name, Charles got a bit embarrassed, "Uh... just Charlie please, it's what my friends call me," Charles said

Jaune nodded, "Right," he said, looking back at the rest, "Anything else?" He asked.

"We had a chance to regroup and figure out a new plan after you wiped the floor with us in the first part of the training exercise," Percy said.

Jaune nodded, "You did, but you wanna tell me why you didn't have the chance?" He asked.

"Because someone let their anger get to them," Thalia said, eyeing Clarisse.

Clarisse growled as she glared at the daughter of Zeus.

Jaune nodded, "Correct," He said as he turned to Clarisse, "You need to learn to control your anger, it can be a tool, but don't let it control you," He told her.

Clarisse glared at him, "And what would you know about that?"

Jaune looked at her with a small glare, "I let anger get the best of me and it nearly cost me a friend's life," Jaune told her. He then sheathed his sword and walked up to her and he saw her move back a little before he was right in front of her, "I'm going to let you know this now because you are a good fighter, Clarisse, and you still have room to grow, but never, never, think you are better than anyone else, because the moment you think you are, you lose," Jaune told her before turning away.

With that, the day continued, as Jaune forced the losers to fight against five opponents, and he watched as Clarisse was able to win, it seemed like she took what he said to heart, trying to stay calm while fighting multiple opponents.

Jaune also watched them and made sure they were staying safe and not going overboard and as he watched them, he failed to notice bright orange eyes that burned like the coals of a fire, and then there was a whisper in his ear.

"Tonight... come... dear knight..."

Jaune turned around quickly but he saw no one, just the still-burning embers of a dead fire. There was no one there, not a soul, at least, that's what most would think, but that was untrue... there was always someone there.

After all, there had to be someone kindling the fire...

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Later that night, Jaune sat with Chiron and Mr. D, who were playing a game of poker, one which the Centaur was losing terribly, Jaune looked at both of their cards and smiled, knowing that Chiron was in danger of losing a lot of money.

Trying to distract the god, Chiron turned to Jaune with a brow, "So, Jaune, how were the kids today?" Chiron asked.

Jaune shrugged, "Good, they all seem to be doing good, but I'll be honest, there are a few that need improvement, emotionally and mentally," Jaune replied. "But they all seem to be doing well, and a few surprised me that you never seemed to mention,"

"Oh?" The god asked, "Who may I ask?"

"Drew Tanaka, Charlie Beckendorf, Will Solace, The Stoll brothers, Katie Gardner, and... I think that about it," Jaune said, "They are pretty good fighters and with different talents, I mean, Drew can see through illusions, Will has great healing capabilities, and the Stolls are so smart that if they put their pranks to battle they'd be unstoppable, and Katie can control plants if trained right, they could be just as good as Percy and the others, I even offered them more training later tonight," He told them.

Chiron smiled, "That is good to hear, but I also have to ask, how are you adjusting here at Camp?" Chiron asked.

Jaune smiled, "Pretty good, and Annabeth and Percy have been informing me about your world, which is great honestly, there are a few similarities between Earth and Remnant, well, except you guys don't have Faunus walking around,"

"Faunus?" Mr. D asked.

Jaune chuckled, "I'll tell you about them later, but anyway, I think I got a few students who want some late-night training," Jaune said with a smirk.

Chiron chuckled and nodded, and Mr. D simply stared at his cards, waiting for Chiron to make the move. Jaune left the cabin, but once he did and the door closed behind him, he felt something was off in the air, and he looked around and that's when he saw her.

She had bright auburn hair and eyes that glowed like burning coals, for a split second, he could've sworn he had seen Cinder and was about to attack, however, the woman gave off a more... loving presence.

She wore a red flaming cloak and a white toga-like shirt that exposed a bit of her stomach and had gold designs as well, however, she also wore a white tube dress with similar golden designs on her shirt, she wore no shoes, leaving her feet exposed to the elements.

"Hello, Jaune Arc, a pleasure to see you again," She said.

Jaune was a bit confused as to who she was, "I'm sorry... but I don't think we've met," Jaune told her.

The woman smiled softly, "We have, I'm simply easy to look past," She said.

"Then forgive me for forgetting you," Jaune said. "I just can't believe I never saw someone as... well as beautiful as you," he said with a slight blush.

The woman chuckled with a soft smile, "You are not the first to say that, Jaune Arc," She said. "I am Hestia, Goddess of the Hearth and I have come to you, to see the fire I saw for only mere moments,"

Jaune was confused as to what she meant, "Excuse me?" He asked, "Fire?"

Hestia nodded, "Yes, a fire," She said as she closed the distance between them.

Jaune wanted to step back, afraid she might try something, however, he couldn't, not because she had some power over him or something, but because he sensed nothing but warmth, kindness, and love, radiating off of Hesita.

She grabbed him by the face and pulled him close, her burning eyes stared into his deep blue ones and that's when she saw it, the fire she had seen in his very soul.

"Such a beautiful flame," She said. "In all my years not once had I thought I'd see another flame... so similar,"

Jaune's brow raised in confusion, "A similar flame?" Jaune asked.

Hestia nodded, "Indeed," She replied. "You have a flame only I have, a flame of a protector, a flame that carries the burden of others, yes, a strong flame indeed, but so many little flames dancing around it, glowing bright with each emotion... oh my... how cruel,"

"What?" Jaune asked.

"Penny," Hestia said

Hearing her name, Jaune recoiled and looked at Hestia with wide eyes. "H-How do you know-?"

"The flame of guilt burns bright in you," She replied. "Do not fret, Jaune Arc, It was her choice,"

Jaune looked down with sadness, "And I was the only person who could help her make that choice... she didn't deserve to die..."

Hestia smiled, "Who said she is dead?"

Jaune looked up at her quickly, with confusion and wide eyes. "What!?" He asked.

"I sense the flame of every living being, Jaune Arc, and when two new and powerful flames appear so suddenly in my world, I am the first to know," Hestia said

Jaune was shocked, he couldn't believe it, there was no way, no way that Penny was alive... and yet, he had to take the chance.

"Where is she!? Is she safe!? How'd she get here!?" Jaune asked as he stepped toward the Goddess.

Hestia giggled, "Please, calm down, Jaune Arc," She said. "I only know that she is safe," She said.

Jaune looked at her, "And are you sure it's Penny?" She asked.

"She has hair like the color of bronze and eyes as green as emeralds," Hestia said. 

Jaune slowly nodded, sounding like Penny to him, but he began to wonder how she was alive, how she survived... what he did, but then he began to wonder if he even had the right to find her. Did she even want him to be the one to find her? He had taken her life... to him, it didn't matter if it was her choice or not... he had done the unthinkable.

But he still had to try.

"Where is she, Lady Hestia?" Jaune asked.

Hestia smiled and pointed behind him, "It seems you may get your answer,"

Jaune turned around only to see a floating corpse behind him and his body froze in shock as the body floated toward him, if Jaune remembered correctly, she was the Oracle, and it seemed that she had a prophecy for him.

Green mist spawned out of her mouth and in the mist, a shape appeared, he recognized the shape as none other than Cinder Fall. Jaune was stunned to see her very image in the fog and nearly charged at the image before remembering that it was simply fake, why the fog decided to take her image was unknown, but the faux Cinder began to speak.

"To the Knight, who bears a broken heart and two bloody hands"

"Come and fight, and seek the place with the whitest sands"

"Travel southwest, and you shall find the banished mother"

"Like all the rest, face to face with the one who shall become another,"

"Find the blade, and Hades will make you a deal,"

"Accept the trade, and two fates you shall seal"

"Atop the oldest mount, you will beat the mad titan bloody"

"12 by your count, and a king's name you shall muddy"

Hearing such a long prophecy, Hestia smiled, knowing the very long journey ahead of him. "It seems you have been given a quest, Jaune Arc," she told him.

The mock Cinder Fall burst apart and green mist receded into the Oracle and her body floated back up in the attic, and watching the whole thing from the front door was Chiron and Mr. D in shock.

"Well..." Mr. D began, "That was something new, never thought she could leave the attic,"

Chiron looked to Jaune, "She has given you a prophecy?" He asked.

Jaune nodded.

Chiron nodded, "Very well then, come inside and we shall discuss what she said, and tomorrow, we shall gather the head of the cabins and send you forth on your quest," Chiron told him.

Jaune nodded and he turned himself to speak with Hestia, but when he looked to where she once stood, she was gone, but then he heard a faint whisper.

"Gifts will come soon... my champion,"

Jaune was a bit unnerved by her disembodied voice, but he knew that she meant him no harm.

He turned back and walked toward the cabin with Chiron and the two, along with Mr. D, discussed the prophecy the Oracle had given him, however, unknown to the three adults, three others had overheard the Prophecy that had been spoken that night.

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It seems Hestia has taken an interest in our hero and he has been given a quest so early!? Wonder what is going to happen on this Quest and who might join him?

Better yet, what do you think the prophecy means?